Divided Hearts

by Susan R. Hughes

  Creeping silently past the crib, Faye eased the door open and slipped out into the hallway, blinking against the light. Though it was only eight-thirty, the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding she’d consumed, along with two glasses of wine, had left her drowsy; sitting in a quiet, darkened room waiting for a toddler to succumb to sleep had only worsened the effect.

  The rest of the house was just as quiet now. When Faye had taken Hannah to bed a half-hour before, she’d left Simon and his mother washing up the supper dishes, and she wondered where they’d gone.

  Emerging into the living room, she first heard the pleasant crackle of a fire, then saw it glowing in the depths of the stone fireplace as she turned the corner.

  She stopped abruptly, catching sight of Simon settled into the chair by the fireplace, a newspaper draped over his lap and a glass of red wine in his hand. Faye’s first inclination was to turn and slip back into her room before he saw her; an early night didn’t seem like a bad idea after all. But before she could move, his gaze rose to meet hers. A smile played on his lips, forming an appealing crease across his cheek. Faye’s heart thumped heavily.

  He raised his glass in her direction. “Would you care to join me?”

  Chapter Four

  “Join you?” she asked slowly.

  His chin dipped in a curt nod. “Would you like some wine?”

  “We already polished off that bottle of Bordeaux with dinner,” Faye reminded him.

  “’When there is plenty of wine, sorrow and worry take wing’.” He tossed a glance at Faye as he headed to the kitchen, one eyebrow lifting roguishly. “That is, according to the Roman poet Ovid,” he added, fetching the open bottle of wine from the counter and a glass from the cupboard.

  She couldn’t help the smile the touched her lips, her anxiety easing. “If Ovid says so, I suppose one more glass won’t hurt.”

  “This is an Australian shiraz, very rich and plummy, with quite a fragrant nose. I think you’ll like it.” Holding the glass at an angle, Simon tipped the bottle deftly, filling the glass with the burgundy liquid.

  “Jenna didn’t mention you were a wine connoisseur,” she remarked.

  “Probably because she can’t stand the stuff.”

  “True. All the cheap wine we drank in high school spoiled it for her.” Faye chuckled at the memory, before a wave of sadness swept through her, thoughts of Jenna’s uncertain future weighing on her spirits. You should be here instead of me, Jenna. You should be the one dealing with your child’s father, as you ought to have done two years ago.

  She glanced around, expecting to find Mary tucked in a corner with a newspaper or book of her own. “Where’s your mother?”

  “She went to her room to watch TV before bed.” Simon handed Faye the filled glass, his gaze capturing hers. “Are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”

  “No,” she replied, the tenor of her voice making it clear that she wasn’t so certain.

  The corner of his mouth twitched, amusement glimmering in his deep-blue eyes. “Don’t be nervous. I’m not out to seduce you. I was only hoping we could talk.”

  “About what?” Feeling her face burn, she attempted to hide behind her glass, taking a long sip of the smooth, rich wine.

  Simon motioned for her to join him on the sofa. Settling next to him, she crossed her legs and tucked her elbows at her sides, keeping her knee several inches from his. It might not be his intention to seduce her, but all the same, she wasn’t taking any chances.

  “I know it’s difficult to discuss the future with Jenna’s condition being as it is,” he began. “But I want to make my intentions clear. As soon as it’s feasible I’d like to set up a more regular visitation arrangement with Hannah. I’ll have my lawyer draw up something, with your complete involvement, of course—”

  “You’ve made your intentions pretty clear already, Simon,” Faye interrupted. “But couldn’t we hold off on that for now? I’m perfectly willing to let you see Hannah whenever you want to. As for Jenna, I have no idea what her reaction will be. Despite her flawed judgment in how she’s handled this, she’s really not an unreasonable person.”

  Simon stared at the wine in his glass, considering her words. “I don’t mean to be insensitive to what’s happened to her. I do wish Jenna a speedy recovery. But I imagine she’ll need someone to look after Hannah for some time yet, and I assume you’ll be the one continuing to care for her.”

  “Definitely. I’ve always assured Jenna that if anything should happen to her, I’d raise Hannah myself. I intend to keep to that promise.” Faye spoke with a firm tone, her chin raised resolutely. If he was leading up to the suggestion of taking custody of Hannah himself if Jenna proved unable to care for her, he’d have a fight on his hands. But surely it wouldn’t come to that.

  “It’s incredibly selfless of you, Faye, to help your friend raise her child like this,” he remarked. “Not only since the accident, but all along. Surely you’d like to settle down with someone, marry and start your own family.”

  “No prospects of that at the moment.” Faye hadn’t been in a serious relationship since before Hannah was born, and since then had been too busy to date much at all. “But if I do meet someone special, he’ll just have to deal with the fact that I’ve made a commitment to Hannah. Who knows, maybe Jenna will meet someone and get married herself. But I plan to be there for both of them as long as they need me.”

  “Even if you have children of your own?” Simon wondered.

  “Oh, I don’t plan on having kids.”

  His brows lifted abruptly. “You don’t?”

  “Why does that shock you? Does every woman necessarily have a burning desire to reproduce?” she asked tartly, resenting his apparent assumption that a thirty-two-year-old single woman must hear her biological clock as a deafening roar in her ears.

  “No, of course not. But you’re so devoted to Hannah. I assumed you had a maternal inclination.”

  “I do love kids,” Faye clarified. “That’s why I can’t stand the thought of putting them through what I went through growing up.”

  Simon eyed her curiously. “What’s that?”

  She paused, recognizing that the wine had loosened her tongue, chasing away her customary prudence with her words. “You don’t want to hear my sob story, do you?”

  “I’m interested, if you’d like to tell me.” He leaned closer, resting his elbow on the back of the sofa. The depths of his eyes shimmered with reflected firelight, warm and compelling as he held her gaze.

  Faye drew a deep breath before speaking. “My parents divorced when I was six. It was a very messy divorce, and I spend the rest of my childhood in the middle of a bitter custody battle. It was a nightmare I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

  Sipping his wine, he studied her over the rim of his glass. “Couldn’t they work out an arrangement?”

  Faye’s shoulders lifted and fell listlessly. “My dad had an affair. Mom just couldn’t forgive him, and she wanted to keep punishing him. Never mind that it was me who ended up suffering.” She turned to face Simon, her words carefully measured. “Promise me you won’t do that to Hannah, no matter how angry or hurt you may be. Don’t make her suffer for Jenna’s mistake.”

  As she finished speaking she felt his hand curl over hers, gently enfolding her fingers in the warmth of his grasp. Surprised, she let her gaze drop, and then flicker back up to meet his, her eyes silently questioning.

  “All I want is to share custody,” he assured her. “I won’t ever try to take Hannah away from her mother. Or you. I do promise you that.”

  “It’s going to be tough. You live a good distance away,” she said slowly, struggling to maintain her focus. She felt too warm, as though his touch had heated her blood, sending a surge of liquid fire through her veins.

  “I’ll move to Vancouver if it makes things easier,” he offered casually.

  Faye stared at him in surprise. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course. I love this place, and I’d love Ha
nnah to enjoy it as well. But if it makes it more difficult for me to spend time with her, I’m quite willing to let it go.”

  Faye felt her lips curl upward at the edges. “You’ve come to terms with being a father so quickly. In fact it seems you’ve embraced it.”

  Simon swallowed the last of his wine before replying. “When I was a boy, my father was never around. In fact I hardly knew him. One day he just never came home. He abandoned us, simply vanished. I thought he’d been killed on some dangerous assignment. But eventually we found out he was living in Copenhagen with another woman.” He squeezed Faye’s hand gently, his gaze intent. “I’ll never abandon my child, Faye. Hannah has a father for life.”

  Nodding her understanding, Faye drained the last of her wine in a long swallow, her body still alight with a smoldering heat more radiant than the flames wavering in the fireplace before them.

  At last releasing her hand, Simon observed her with interest. “Your cheeks are flushed. Perhaps you have had a bit too much wine.”

  “I think I have,” she said with a shaky laugh, glancing down at her empty glass. “Thank you, though. It was lovely.”

  Taking her glass, he offered a playful smile. “There’s an old French proverb that says: ‘In water one sees one's own face; but in wine, one beholds the heart of another.’”

  Faye felt her face flush more deeply. Was he able to see into her heart? It was battering so hard against her ribcage, surely he could somehow sense it. In her glowing cheeks, how could he help but perceive her muddled emotions, her fierce devotion to Hannah tangled up with a burgeoning desire for him that she couldn’t dismiss.

  “I’m tired,” she said abruptly. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Goodnight, then,” he said casually, as though nothing were amiss. ”See you in the morning.”

  Faye marched back to her room and undressed in the dark, careful not to wake Hannah. Her head reeling from the wine, she crawled gratefully between the bed sheets. Tucking her hand under her cheek, she felt the nerve endings in her fingers still tingling from Simon’s touch. Though fatigue swiftly stole over her, her mind couldn’t quite submit to sleep; she stared at the window by her bed, listening to Hannah’s rhythmic breathing from the other side of the room, and willing her heart to match its easy pace.

  Faye, get a grip, she admonished herself. So you’re attracted to Simon Blake. You can handle it. It’s not as though he’s irresistible. Besides, his only interest in you relates to your role as his daughter’s guardian. His concern lies solely with Hannah; that’s where yours should stay, too.

  Yes, the key was to focus on Hannah’s wellbeing. It was the only way to survive another day under the same roof with Simon … along with another night.

  * * *

  Facing the mirror opposite her bed, Faye smoothed out the fabric of her cardigan, letting the thick waves of her golden hair tumble over her shoulders. Though tired from lack of sleep, she didn’t look it, her jangled nerves causing a blush high in her cheeks. It was only Simon’s relatives arriving—Hannah’s relatives—but Faye was the outsider, the one to be scrutinized. She’d coloured her lips with a pale pink gloss, and under the cardigan she wore her favourite summer dress, a knee-length periwinkle garment with a gathered bodice that flattered her slender figure.

  She had dressed Hannah in a pale yellow dress, tights, and a tiny cable-knit cardigan of her own; at the moment the toddler was sitting on the floor, trying diligently to slide her feet into her black patent-leather shoes, but not quite having the coordination to manage it.

  “Let me get those for you,” Faye said, bending to slip the shoes onto Hannah’s tiny feet. “Come on, let’s go see if we can help Daddy and Nan with the food.”

  Hannah grabbed her stuffed dog, tucking it firmly under her arm as Faye opened the bedroom door. Taking the little girl by the hand, Faye led her out into the living room, before Hannah broke loose and dashed off toward the kitchen.

  Following, Faye heard a smooth male voice from the kitchen as the toddler disappeared around the corner. “Oh, hello. My, you look pretty. Did you come to help me?”

  Peering into the room, Faye saw Hannah grinning up at Simon, who stood by a pot of asparagus soup bubbling on the stove. Faye hung back for a moment, not wanting to distract Hannah from her father’s warm greeting. And Faye couldn’t help pausing to observe the man, looking charmingly domestic in his red tartan apron, wooden spoon in hand. At the same time, he exuded a potent masculinity that aroused a sweet flutter of excitement in Faye.

  Simon crouched next to Hannah, speaking to her in a soft, singsong voice. “Do you like asparagus?”

  “Ah-beh-beh-beh,” she replied.

  His brows arched as he feigned understanding. “You do? Me, too. It’s very good for you, you know, with vitamins and antioxidants to help you grow big and strong.”

  He tickled her belly and she ducked away, chuckling, and then scurried out of his reach, daring him to chase her. When he didn’t, she toddled back to him. Faye smiled to herself; she loved watching the two of them interact, as their comfort with one another grew. Recalling Simon’s story about his father deserting his family, she felt certain that he would never forsake Hannah.

  And she had to wonder again why Jenna had felt the need to keep her daughter from this man who so clearly wanted to take care of his little girl.

  “Do you know you’re going to meet your auntie and your cousin today?” Simon asked Hannah. “Yes, they can’t wait to see you. They’ll be so happy to see what a little sweetheart you are. And I think you’ll have a lot of fun with them.”

  Faye’s smile broadened; focused on Simon and Hannah’s burgeoning relationship, she hadn’t given much thought to the toddler gaining a whole new set of relatives, and the positive affect that would have on her future.

  “Look at this, Faye.” The voice from behind startled her, and she spun around to find Simon’s mother holding up a small wicker basket. “I bought this for the girls to play with. Isn’t it sweet?” She lifted the lid to reveal a miniature ceramic tea set, its pot, cups and saucers adorned with characters from Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit. Mary looked at Faye expectantly, pleased by her find.

  “It’s precious. They’ll love it,” Faye said, hoping Mary hadn’t noticed her spying from the kitchen doorway.

  “How’s your soup coming?” Mary asked, walking around her into the kitchen.

  “Almost done,” Simon replied, his gaze capturing Faye’s, as a small smile curved his lips. “You look very nice, Faye.”

  “Thanks.” Feeling the blood rise in her face, she dipped her chin and reached for Hannah, who was busy sitting her stuffed dog in her high chair.

  “I think everything’s nearly ready.” Mary said, a moment before the doorbell rang. “And just in time.”

  Quelling a nervous flutter in her stomach, Faye took Hannah’s hand and followed Simon and his mother to the living room. Simon opened the door, ushering in a slender, dark-haired woman and a young girl. As the pair stepped inside, their gazes fastened instantly on Faye and Hannah; Faye smiled but slowed her steps, feeling at once unnervingly outnumbered.

  “Oh my, Simon, she’s as gorgeous as Mum said,” the young woman crooned, bending toward Hannah, whose arm was now wrapped tightly around Faye’s leg. After a moment the woman glanced up at Faye with a kind smile. “Hello, Faye, I’m Simon’s sister, Laurel.” In one hand she held a plate of hot cross buns; she offered the other hand to Faye, who grasped it briefly.

  “Very nice to meet you,” Faye said. “Those look delicious.”

  “I make these every year. Simon eats most of them himself.” Glancing down at the plate of buns, Laurel uttered a quick, nervous laugh, and it occurred to Faye that the unorthodox circumstances were just as uncomfortable for Simon’s family as for her. What struck Faye equally was Laurel’s resemblance to Hannah, in the shape of her eyes and mouth, as well as the curve of her smile.

  The little girl standing next to Laurel resembled Hannah less, but had th
e same curious round eyes, though brown instead of blue. She was dressed in a pink satin dress, accessorized with a necklace of chunky plastic beads, glittery pink high-heeled slippers and a tiara lavishly encrusted with plastic gems.

  “I’m Princess Sienna,” she announced. “I’m Hannah’s cousin.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Princess Sienna,” Faye said, bending forward. “Happy Easter.”

  “Happy Easter to you, too.” Sienna crouched down to Hannah’s eye level. “She’s so cute. She can be a princess, too. Want to try on my tiara?”

  Instantly enamored, Hannah beamed and gabbled happily as Sienna pulled the tiara off her own head and set it atop the toddler’s unruly dark mane.

  Faye glanced over at Simon, who was sporting his own broad grin as he unfastened his apron, clearly pleased by his family’s immediate fondness for his new-found daughter. Faye also saw relief suffuse his expression, and the tension in his shoulder muscles, which she hadn’t noticed before now, eased visibly.

  “Sienna, the Easter bunny came by last night,” he told his niece playfully. “I suspect he left some chocolate eggs out in the garden, knowing you’d be here this morning.”

  “Can Hannah help me look?” Sienna bounced on her heels as she looked up hopefully at Faye.

  “Of course,” Faye said. “It’s her first time. You can show her how it’s done.”

  Taking the plate of buns from Laurel, Mary ushered everyone toward the French doors that led to the back yard. “Go on, girls. Brunch will be ready soon. Simon, come and help me carry the food outside, will you?”

  “Come on, Hannah.” Grasping her little cousin’s hand, Sienna led her patiently toward the door, wobbling on her high shoes. “You can look for the easy ones, in the grass. I’ll show you the usual spots. Don’t worry, I’m sure the Easter Bunny left enough for both of us. He knew you’d be here, too.”

  * * *

  Seated at the picnic table, Faye watched the girls as they rambled around the yard, Hannah tottering after Sienna, chortling and waving her small arms as they zigzagged across the grass. Both of them had chocolate smears in the corners of their mouths, having indulged in their stash of treats immediately after finishing their brunch. Now and then dashing behind a gnarled arbutus tree at the edge of the lawn, Sienna would poke her head around the trunk and shout “Peek-a-boo!” to Hannah’s delight.