In the Heart's Shadow

by T. L. Haddix

The smile was instinctive. “Emma is wonderful, precocious, smart as a whip. And she keeps my brother on his toes.”

  “Sounds like she’s got her uncle wrapped around her little finger to me,” she teased.

  “She does. No question about it. She actually looks more like me than she does Garrett, so I have to give him a hard time about that.”

  “So you’re close to your brother?”

  He squeezed her hand before letting go to downshift and go around a slow-moving truck. “We are now. We weren’t growing up, though. He’s ten years younger than me.”

  Stacy turned in her seat so that she was facing him more fully. “Ten years?”

  “Yeah.” He blew out a tense breath. “He was born after I went into foster care.”

  “What happened?”

  As much as he hated to revisit that time of his life, he knew Stacy had been wondering about it for a while. “You have to understand who my parents are. Don and Tess Gordon are very devout Christians.”

  “Aren’t you agnostic?” She sounded surprised.

  His smile held no humor or warmth. “I am. Which came as no surprise to my father, who thinks I’m the devil incarnate.” He glanced at her, seeing her disbelief. “No, really. He thinks I’m the true spawn of Satan. It’s the green eyes, you know. Devil eyes.”

  “Galen, no.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “That’s ludicrous. How could he believe that?”

  “His God told him to. See, my father is a preacher. A pious man of God, and Dad’s word is law. At least, that’s what I grew up believing.”

  “I thought you were an Army brat.”

  “I was,” he confirmed. “Dad was a tank guy. He was old-school Army, too. He liked to drink. Every weekend, he’d get loaded, and then he’d start in on me or Mom. Usually when she tried to protect me. He left my sister alone, and after a while, my mother learned to get out of his way when he was drunk.”

  Stacy’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “And left you to what, fend him off by yourself?”

  “Pretty much. When he wasn’t drinking, he basically ignored me. When he drank, he tried to beat the devil out of me. And when I was ten, I woke up sick one Saturday morning. I remember feeling this horrible pain in my side and puking my guts out. He was on the couch, and Mom kept trying to shush me, keep me quiet. She didn’t want to wake him up. But it hurt so bad, and I couldn’t stop crying. When he did wake up, she told him she needed to take me to the doctor, and he forbade it. Said I was faking, that it was Satan making me act out. He got his belt out and started wailing away.”

  Her voice was so faint that he had to strain to hear her. “And that’s what the scars are from?”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t the first time he’d used the belt, far from it. But I’d always been able to stay pretty quiet before. This time? I just hurt too much, and I started screaming. One of the neighbors heard and came over. She saw what was going on, and she called the cops. They took me to the hospital and him to jail. I had appendicitis, and it had ruptured. That’s what the pain was that hurt so much.”

  Stacy gestured at the sign to an upcoming rest area with her free hand. “Can you stop?”

  “Sure.”

  At the rest stop, Gordon barely had the car stopped before she was out, walking away fast. Cursing, he turned off the motor and locked the car, following her. He didn’t get too close, giving her the space she needed. When she reached the end of the sidewalk, she turned. The fury and hurt on her face sent a pang of guilt through him.

  “I’m okay, Stacy.”

  She shook her head, and a few tears trickled down her cheeks. She swiped at them angrily. “That’s not the point. What the hell was your mother thinking, letting him do that to you? You were just a baby.”

  “She was following the creed she thought a good wife should.” Gordon pulled her into his arms, and she returned the embrace, holding on so tightly that it was almost uncomfortable. Her hands ran over his back in a soothing motion, as though to heal the wounds from so long ago.

  “Are your parents still alive?”

  “Yes. I don’t ever see them or talk to them, though.”

  “Good. I don’t see how you keep from killing him.”

  As she pulled back, she scowled at a woman walking her dog nearby. The woman’s eyes widened, and she quickly turned and hurried the other direction.

  “You scared her.”

  She sighed. “I know. I guess we’d better get back in the car before she calls the police.”

  Once they were back on the interstate, Stacy asked him what had happened after the beating. “You were put in foster care?”

  “Immediately, as was my sister. Apparently, my mother didn’t even know she was pregnant with my brother at that point.”

  “I can’t imagine your dad’s actions went over very well with the Army.”

  “They didn’t. He was discharged and spent six months in jail. After that, they moved back to Clay County, which is where my mother was from, and he set up shop as a preacher. He quit drinking, but it didn’t really improve his disposition any.”

  “Did you get placed with a good family?”

  He smiled, thinking about the Nguyens. “I did. I got placed with a wonderful family. They’re probably the reason I’m not in prison right now, if you want the truth.” He told her about the warm, loving couple who’d opened their home and their hearts to a troubled young man. “They’re very humble people, but they’re so open-minded, so caring. I still see them a couple times a year, even though they’re in California. I think you’d love them.”

  “How long were you with them?”

  “Almost six years. My sister was able to go back home after a year, and my father proved to the state that he wasn’t a danger to her or to my brother. I didn’t get sent back until I was sixteen and some wise-ass social worker decided a travesty of justice had occurred by leaving me ‘orphaned’ for so long.”

  Stacy ran a hand along his arm and captured his hand, bringing it to her lap. She played with his fingernails, and her laugh was bitter. “Why do I think that didn’t turn out so well?”

  “Because you’re very smart?”

  “Or because I’ve seen the system and how bad things can go. What happened?”

  “I rebelled. Big time. Fell in with the wrong crowd and ended up in juvie after I got caught stealing cars. Glen Nguyen appealed to the judge at my sentencing hearing and managed to convince the man that I was just reacting to a bad situation, that I wasn’t really the devil my father tried to portray me as.”

  “Obviously, he had some success.”

  “Some. I was given two choices: the Army or prison.” He saw the shocked look she sent him. “Did I mention that it was an interstate car-theft ring?”

  She winced. “Oh… Yeah, you left that out. How old were you?”

  “A couple months shy of eighteen. The Nguyens helped me get my GED, and into the Army I went. I was in for three years, then got out and started school. I attended classes during the day, worked at night, and didn’t have much time for anything else.”

  “I’d say not. When did you meet Mallory?”

  “My first year of law school. You heard how that all came about the other night.”

  She smiled. “Yes. How in the world did you juggle everything?”

  He shook his head as he remembered that period of time. “I don’t know. I was young and lucky, I guess. By the time I got into law school, I’d managed to pick up a couple of scholarships, but still… In those days, hamburgers were a treat. It didn’t help that Mallory came from money.”

  “Ouch. That’s a big obstacle.”

  “Yeah, you could say that,” he hedged. They’d reached the outskirts of Louisville, and Gordon took the proper exit. “The first couple of years we were married, we butted heads quite a bit over her money. She couldn’t understand why it bothered me so much when she’d offer to pay for things, and I couldn’t get her to understand why I needed to.”

  “How’d you solve t
hat?”

  “Her mother. Sandra sat us both down and spoke very plainly, put things in perspective. We could either learn to live with each other as we were or spend the rest of our lives tearing each other apart, because that’s where we were heading. She gave us a verbal ear-boxing, tore into Mallory as much as she did me, and left us alone. It worked.”

  As he turned onto the main road that led into the subdivision where his house was located, Stacy started looking around. They were entering one of the nicer neighborhoods in Louisville, where the houses set back a good distance from the street across lush, green lawns, and he could almost see her brain working.

  “So your house—we’re only driving through this part of town to get to the nice, modest neighborhood you live in, right? Because you could fit my entire house inside these garages.”

  Gordon cleared his throat. “Not exactly.”

  She studied him, lips pursed, then looked back outside. The lots were getting larger, the rolling countryside opening up from the suburban sprawl that they were quickly leaving behind. Before long, they reached the turnoff to the quiet cul-de-sac where his house sat, and when Gordon pulled the car into the driveway and stopped to check the mailbox, Stacy turned stunned eyes to him.

  “Just how wealthy was Mallory?”

  Gordon didn’t answer as he hit the button on the garage door opener. He looked at her, trying to gauge her mood.

  “Galen?”

  “She was a trust-fund baby. Her father died when she was fifteen, and he left her a good-sized trust.”

  “How much, exactly, are we talking about? And what happened to it?” Her voice was carefully controlled. Her face was unreadable.

  A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Gordon answered. “Five million. More or less.”

  “More or less.” She nodded. “Okay. It’s not any of my business, I know. But is that money now yours?”

  He shut off the car, and the silence in the vehicle was deafening. “It is your business. I didn’t want to take it. She forced my hand when she was sick.” When Stacy didn’t say anything, he continued.

  “I didn’t know about the money when I married Mallory, and it didn’t go well when I did find out. We battled off and on for two years, and that’s when Sandra sat us down. At that point, we agreed to keep our finances separate because it wasn’t fair to Mallory to give up what she was used to. It wasn’t fair to me to expect to be able to support her like she was used to. She stopped trying to buy me things, and I stopped holding her wealth against her. It was the only way to save the marriage.”

  “I can’t imagine you taking that very well,” she finally remarked, her voice soft.

  He snorted with derision. “I hated it. Absolutely hated it. But I loved Mallory, and once we agreed to disagree, we were able to put the money behind us, for the most part. She built this house, and I gave in. I couldn’t very well say, ‘No, you can’t build the house you want because I can’t afford it on my salary, just because I’m too proud to let you do it on your own.’”

  “But you were tempted to, I’ll bet.”

  “A little. But she enjoyed building the house so much, I finally came around. And it is a nice house.”

  Stacy got out of the car. Gordon followed her to the garage door, where she stood, arms crossed, looking out across the fields.

  “Not worth the cost of your pride.”

  Gordon had expected her anger—but not on his behalf. He reached out to touch her, but she took a few steps away. She turned to face him, moving her hands to her hips. “So what happened to the money?”

  “It provoked another big argument. As soon as she realized she wasn’t going to survive the cancer, she started setting up her estate. I told her I was going to give it away as soon as I could, to save her breath, to not even try to convince me otherwise. She wouldn’t hear of it. She asked me what would happen if I remarried and had a family and something happened to that family that I could have prevented if I had kept the money.”

  Stacy sent him an incredulous look.

  Gordon shrugged. “I think she meant to shock me into accepting. It didn’t work. It was one of the most offensive things I’d ever heard her say, especially given when she said it.”

  “What did you do?”

  “After I finished cursing? Stomped out of the house and chopped up enough firewood to last three years. And as much as I tried to convince her otherwise, she went right ahead. Set up a trust that I couldn’t break for at least ten years.” Stepping up next to her, he ran his hands through his hair. “The thing is, when Emma was born and had so many health problems, I was able to use some of the money almost exactly the way Mallory had predicted. Emma would have been okay without the money, but it certainly helped her get better access to better care faster.”

  “And your brother let you do that for her?”

  His smile was rueful. “That’s what set off the fight I told you about. I ended up using the same damned argument on him that Mallory had used on me. If Emma hadn’t needed so much, he never would have agreed. But it’s hard to argue when it’s your child whose suffering can be alleviated. There’s a time for pride, and there’s a time to give in gracefully. He was a lot more gracious than I was, let me tell you.”

  “I think allowances should be made if there’s a child involved,” Stacy conceded. She turned to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

  “Because I didn’t think you’d have anything to do with me if I did. Because I make my own way, and this…” He gestured to the house. “This is all incidental. If it all went away tomorrow, I’d still be me. I’d be fine without all this. And I wanted you too much to risk losing you.”

  She didn’t say anything for long, long minutes. When she did speak, her voice was low. “You lied to me about the bar exam. You didn’t tell me what all I said the morning I was drugged. Now this. I don’t like the pattern that’s developing here, Gordon.”

  Gordon swallowed, his heart pounding as he tried to find the words that would make things all right. Before he could, she continued.

  “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

  He hesitated, then answered. “One thing. But it’s not… It’s something I’ve not dealt with yet. I don’t know if I’m ready to or not. I don’t know if I can.”

  Stacy tilted her head to the side. “Something to do with Mallory?”

  His chest tight, Gordon nodded. A shuttered look came over her face, and he realized that she probably thought he still had feelings for Mallory. He knew then that if he wanted to have a future with Stacy, he’d have to come face-to-face with the grief he’d been avoiding for six years now. He held out his hand, not surprised to find it trembling. “It’s easier if I show you.”

  Stacy’s emotions were all jumbled up. She didn’t know whether to accept Gordon’s outstretched hand. Deciding that she hadn’t come as far as she had by being timid, she gave in. He led her into the house, closing the garage door behind them. The door from the garage opened up into a short hall, which then opened up into a large great room to Stacy’s right. To her left was a well-appointed kitchen, and behind her to the left was a formal dining room. The ceilings were high and vaulted, and the floors were rich, polished oak. It was a beautiful, elegant home, cozy for all its obvious wealth.

  “Bedrooms are down here,” He guided her past the kitchen and a closed door. “Basement’s here. Office to your left.” They started down the hall.

  Stacy glanced in the neat office, then across the hall to the next open door. “Master?”

  “Yes.”

  He tugged gently on her hand. “Guest bathroom here and the bedroom.” The doors, both open, were on her left. After letting her look inside, Gordon stood in front of a closed door. He laid his hand that wasn’t holding hers on its surface and closed his eyes.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she told him. He turned his head in her direction, but didn’t look at her.

  “I think I do. I’ve put this off
for six years. That’s long enough.”

  “Galen…” She stepped in front of him, suddenly afraid of what was behind the door. “Don’t let me force you into anything.”

  He kissed her fiercely, his embrace full of a pain and desperation she didn’t understand. The kiss wasn’t as sexual as it was intimate. He drew back slowly, resting his head against hers. Stacy held him, breathing in the scent and warmth of his body.

  After several minutes, he let out a shuddering breath and straightened, pulling her with him so that she was no longer resting against the door. Once her weight was off the panel, he twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.

  “Go ahead,” he told her when she didn’t move. “Please.”

  Turning, Stacy went in the room. She mad it only a few feet before she stopped and looked around, devastated. The room ran the width of the house, front to back, with windows on the front and side that created a light and airy atmosphere. In between two banks of windows, next to a dresser, sat a half-assembled crib.

  “Oh, no.” She reached out to him, but he moved past her, going to the window beside the crib. He stopped there, one hand curling around the end of the crib. His other hand came up to the top of the bottom windowpane, where a row of tiny carved animals sat.

  “We wanted kids. It took a while for Mallory to get pregnant once we started trying, but not long enough that we thought something was really wrong. When she finally peed on the stick and the damned thing turned blue, you’ve never seen two happier people. I know a lot of men have kids because their wives want them, but I wanted babies. It’s the ultimate result of love—creating a life with the person who means so much to you. So I was as happy as she was when we discovered she was pregnant.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “As you might have guessed, when Mallory wanted something, it was nearly impossible to talk her out of it. And she wanted to go ahead and set up the nursery, even though she wasn’t very far into the pregnancy. She’d designed this room as the nursery when we built the house, and she wouldn’t hear of waiting until the pregnancy was more advanced. I couldn’t say no. I was happy to go along with it.” He walked past the crib to the tall dresser, staring down at its surface.