by Ruth Langan
Lizbeth wiped down the stove. “He should be. He’s been here for more than six weeks.”
“To a couple of army brats like us, six weeks can be a lifetime. I’m surprised he’s lasted this long. Usually after a month the walls start closing in and he has to hit the road again.”
Lizbeth moved to the counter, spraying, wiping, trying to ignore the jittery feeling Serena’s words were causing. “Colin told me about your childhood. It was much like mine.”
“You traveled a lot?”
Lizbeth nodded. “All over the world.”
“Oh. That explains it.”
Lizbeth arched a brow. “Explains what?”
“The reason that you and Colin…that in such a short time you became so…easy with each other.”
Feeling slightly uncomfortable Lizbeth tried to shift the conversation to something safer. “I was sorry to hear about your parents. It had to be hard, losing them both together, while you were still so young.”
“Yeah. My aunt Betty was a lifesaver. But her feelings were really hurt when I went away to college. She just didn’t get it.”
“Get what?”
Serena shrugged. “What people like you and I understand instinctively. I couldn’t stay there. It was this really neat old house in the heart of suburbia, with a big rolling lawn and all these big old trees. I was given my cousin’s room, because she was already married. And the walls were covered with pennants and movie posters. My aunt cooked these enormous, wonderful meals. And every Sunday, after church, she had a bunch of friends over for brunch. She belonged to a book club, a quilting club and the local theater group. Day after day, week after week, nothing ever changed. We never did anything new or different.”
It occurred to Lizbeth that Serena had just described her idea of heaven. It was, in fact, pretty much a description of her life in Stafford.
She was startled when Serena added softly, “I felt like I was suffocating. I had to get as far away as possible. And even when I started classes at Boston University, I had to keep moving. I spent a semester in Ireland, another in France. Poor Aunt Betty. She never understood.” She sighed. “I never thought I’d meet anyone who would understand my itch to travel. That’s why I’m so lucky I found Gary. We met in Dublin, during a student project. Two years later we ran into each other in Paris. We carried on most of our courtship through the mail and the Internet. We were married in England, and spent the next year in Germany. Now we’re off to Fiji, on the grandest adventure yet.”
“But where is home?” Lizbeth asked softly.
Serena shrugged. “Home is wherever we happen to be at the moment. I guess you can understand such things. Home just doesn’t have the same meaning for people like us. Like Colin and me, you’ve spent a lifetime on the move. A house and a yard and a picket fence might spell home to some, but to people like us…” She shivered in mock horror. “That spells prison.” She turned away. “Thanks for letting me work off some of your wonderful cooking, Lizbeth. Now I’d better get upstairs and make sure my backpack is properly stuffed.”
As she danced away, Lizbeth sank down onto a kitchen chair and stared at the back door. Was the sun still shining? She couldn’t tell. Were the birds still singing? If so, she couldn’t hear them. All she could see was Serena’s smile as she talked about her freedom to travel the world. And all she could hear were her words, echoing in her mind.
A house and a yard and a picket fence might spell home to some, but to people like us that spells prison.
People like us.
But she wasn’t like Colin and Serena. And never had been. She’d spent a lifetime traveling, and never feeling as though she belonged anywhere. Until here at Stafford Cottage.
She wanted to belong here. Wanted to sink down roots, and stay here until she was as old as Loretta. This had become her home, her haven. And she’d done it alone.
If a man should come along who was willing to fit his life to hers that would sweeten the dream even more. She’d thought, hoped, foolishly perhaps, that man would be Colin.
Apparently she’d made a miscalculation. But it wasn’t his fault; it was hers. Hadn’t he been totally honest with her right from the start? He was an architect who didn’t even own his own home. A man who slept in a loft in his office, so that he could be free to move on whenever he chose. And he’d be moving on soon, now that the Yardley project was completed.
He’d never said he loved her. Never suggested that they would have a future together. And certainly had made no false promises.
She couldn’t find fault with his behavior. He’d never led her on. All he’d wanted was the here and now, and whatever pleasure the two of them could bring to one another. Hadn’t she known as much? She’d walked into this situation with her eyes open.
Now it was time to face some painful facts.
There was no doubt that when he left Stafford her heart would be broken. But she’d learned that even with a heart shattered beyond repair, and dreams left in tatters, life goes on.
She stood and forced herself to finish her kitchen chores. She’d need to put a good face on things when she faced Colin and said her goodbyes to Serena.
Goodbye. It was the word she despised above all others.
With the package of home-baked muffins balanced carefully in her lap Serena sat back. “I had the best time.” She watched the small-town images move slowly past the truck window as Colin drove along Main Street. Toddlers on tricycles. Young mothers pushing strollers. Elderly couples strolling arm in arm. Business people exchanging pleasantries outside their shops. “And this has been a neat little place to see.”
“Yeah. Stafford’s a great place. I’m glad we had this visit.”
“Next year it’s your turn, big brother. I’ll expect you to fly up to Fiji and fill me in on what’s happening in your life. Promise?”
“You know I can’t promise that. But I’ll keep the option open.”
She chuckled. “Do you know how long our family has been using that phrase? When we were kids, I remember hearing Dad say that to Mom. I’ll keep the option open. But you’re right. Who knows where either of us will be by this time next year? Gary and I will probably be somewhere in the South Seas, aboard our own boat. And you’ll probably be in Rome or Venice, studying more of those dusty old palaces you’ve always loved.”
“Could be. But where I’m hoping to be is right here in Stafford.”
Serena turned to him with a stunned expression. “Here? For heaven’s sake, why?”
“Hey.” He tugged on a lock of her hair. “What’s the matter with you? You’d have to be blind not to see the way I feel about Lizbeth.”
“Yeah. The two of you can’t keep your eyes off each other.” Or their hands, she’d noted. “So?”
“So, I want to be here. With Lizbeth.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, sure. For how long?”
“Oh, I figure a lifetime or two.”
“You’re—” she shot him a puzzled glance “—going to put down roots?”
“That’s what I’m planning.”
“Have you two talked it over?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to get this job done first. Then I was hoping to ease into something more…permanent.”
He turned off the highway into the small airport. As he pulled up to the terminal and parked, he saw the stunned look on his sister’s face. “Hey. I thought you liked Lizbeth.”
“I do. She’s the greatest. But…” She swallowed. “I think I may have hurt your chances a bit, big brother.”
His smile dissolved. “How?”
She shook her head. “After you left this morning I went on and on about how we were all alike. Never wanting to be in one place for very long.” She covered her face with her hands as another thought struck. “Oh no! I even compared a house and a picket fence to a prison. Oh, Colin. I’m sorry. I had no idea…”
Colin felt his heart take a sudden, hard, heavy bounce. He stepped out of the truck and cir
cled around to help his sister down, using that moment to compose his features.
As he gathered her close she threw her arms around his neck and muttered, “Me and my big mouth. Now I’ve spoiled everything.”
“No harm done, Serena.” He kissed her, then stepped back. “Give my best to Gary. And send me a picture of your yacht.”
“Yeah.” She studied him. “You’re sure you can patch things up with Lizbeth?”
“Don’t give it another thought.”
She turned away and hurried inside the terminal.
He waited until she’d gone through the security check. Then he climbed into his truck and drove like a madman. Wondering how in the world he could convince a tender soul like Lizbeth that a leopard could change its spots.
She wasn’t in the yard. Not a good sign, he thought. On a day like this, he’d expected to find her talking to her flowers. But then, hadn’t she agreed to go to the Yardley house when he returned? Maybe she was inside, waiting for him.
He strode through the kitchen and found it empty. The dining room, the library, the parlor, were just as empty.
“Lizbeth.” He called her name as he started up the stairs. There was no answering call.
He knocked on her bedroom door. Hearing no response he opened it and looked in. The bed was neatly made. Not a thing out of place. A bouquet of fresh flowers on the night table. And no sign of Lizbeth.
He moved to his room, which was empty. The guest room where Serena had stayed was already spotless, the bed linens changed, the fresh flowers removed. The other guest rooms were all equally tidy, and empty.
Ordinarily he wouldn’t have given this a second thought. After all, Lizbeth spent most days visiting neighbors, shopping in town, or running errands for Loretta. But knowing what Serena had told her, he felt a growing sense of unease. He had the distinct feeling that her absence had much more significance.
On an impulse he started toward Loretta Mayfair’s house. If anyone in Stafford knew what was going on in Lizbeth’s mind, it was that crafty old woman. And right now, he was desperate to find someone who could steer him on the right course toward winning her heart and hand.
Loretta looked up at the shadow falling over her doorway. Seeing Colin, she spooned the rest of the cat food into a dish.
“Well, Brandi.” She ran a hand over the old feline’s back before straightening. “Look who’s come to call.” She motioned Colin inside. “Are you here to ask me out again, young man?”
“I was hoping you’d know where Lizbeth went.”
“Oh, darn. And here I thought I’d have a dinner date.”
Despite his concern, he managed a smile. “We’ll definitely have a date, as long as you give me a rain check. Right now I have something more important on my mind. Have you seen Lizbeth?”
“Matter of fact I have.”
His sigh was audible. “Where is she?”
The old woman made a great show of turning toward the clock on the wall. “I’d say right about now she’s midway between here and her place.”
He shook his head. “I just came from there. Wouldn’t I have passed her on the way here?”
“Not unless you came through the back gardens.”
He turned toward the door. “Thanks, Loretta.”
“Just a minute, young man.”
At the sudden change in her tone he turned back.
She sank onto a kitchen chair and indicated the other one across the table. “Sit yourself down a minute. There are some things you ought to know.”
He sat and waited.
“Our Beth is a very special girl.”
He nodded. “I know.”
She looked at him a minute. Then she arched a brow. “Yes. I think you do.” She thought carefully before saying, “Are you planning on leaving, now that your job at the Yardleys is over?”
“That depends on Lizbeth.”
“You mean, if she asked you to stay, you would?”
He nodded. “In a heartbeat.”
She sat back. A slow smile spread across her face. “Well, now. Isn’t this interesting?” She reached across the table and placed a hand over his. “I’m not sure Beth will find the courage to ask you to stay. She’s…been hurt.”
“I know.”
“You do, do you?” She studied his eyes, so blue they put the sky to shame. “How much do you know?”
“Not nearly enough. Enough to notice that she doesn’t trust anyone or anything. But that’s about all I know. She freezes up whenever I get too close. Can you tell me what happened?”
She shook her head. “I could. But I won’t. I have no right to betray her confidence. But I will tell you this. If you ask the right questions, you may get the answers you’re seeking.”
“And you’re not going to coach me on the right questions, are you?”
She chuckled. “A smart young man like you will figure it out all by yourself.”
He stood and started toward the door. Then he turned back and caught her by the shoulders, lifting her out of the chair before kissing her soundly.
She touched a hand to her mouth. “What was that for?”
“For being an incurable romantic.”
“It takes one to know one.”
She grinned at his retreating back. Then she hurried to the door and watched as he strode up the lane toward Stafford Cottage.
To her cat she muttered, “Our Beth may think she’s a timid mouse. But I have an idea that our young man is about to show her that she’s made of better stuff than she thinks.”
Chapter 15
Lizbeth caught sight of Colin’s truck and took a deep breath. She could get through this. All it would require was a smile as he drove her to the Yardley house and took her on a tour. In another day or two he’d be gone, and her life would return to normal. In no time she’d be caught up in the madness of tourist season, with no time to think of anything beyond the next meal, the next guest.
She squared her shoulders and stepped into the kitchen, expecting to find him waiting for her. Instead the room was empty.
She walked through the house, and was surprised to find no sign of him.
She was just climbing the stairs when she heard the sound of the kitchen door closing. She paused with her hand on the banister. Turned. And saw him standing at the foot of the stairs.
“Serena wanted me to be sure and thank you for making her feel so welcome.”
“It was easy to do. She’s sweet.”
“She talks too much.” He was watching her in that quiet, intense way that always made her uncomfortable. “She told me what she said about houses with picket fences.”
Her tone was pure ice, to cover the hurt. “I’m sure the two of you had a good laugh over it.”
“I didn’t find it funny. And when Serena realized what she’d done, she was sorry. I want you to know, Lizbeth, I don’t share my sister’s sentiments.”
“She said the two of you are alike. That you’ve never been able to stay in one place for more than a few weeks before having to move on. Are you saying your sister lied?”
“No. That was true once. My whole life has been spent on the run. I’ve never had the urge to stay put until now. But that all changed when I met you.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes. Her voice was cool, calm. “You don’t need to do this, Colin.”
“Do what?”
“Make pretty speeches for my sake.”
He couldn’t keep the anger from creeping into his tone. “You think I’m just saying this to salve my conscience because I slept with you?”
“No. Of course not. You’re a good man, Colin. But I suppose even the best of men are uncomfortable at the end of a pleasant affair.”
“A pleasant affair.” His eyes narrowed. “Is that all you think this was?”
“Of course it was. But don’t worry. I won’t hold you, or cling to you or lay any guilt on you by weeping. It’s simply not my style.”
“No. That wouldn’t be your style, Lizbe
th.” He climbed the first step, his eyes steady on hers. “You’ll just keep that pretty Mona Lisa smile in place, and keep all your deep dark secrets to yourself. You’ll be content to let me walk away without ever telling me what’s really going on inside your head.”
She refused to squirm. Instead she gave him a measured look. “I have no intention of talking about myself. I’m not the issue here.”
“No. The issue here is trust.” He took another step toward her. “Somewhere along the line, someone betrayed your trust. And you were so damaged, you promised yourself you’d never allow yourself to be hurt like that again.” His tone softened. “Don’t you see, Lizbeth? Until you tell me what happened, I have no way of breaking through that wall you’ve built around your heart.”
For almost a full minute there was no sound except the ticking of the clock on the landing. It seemed, for a moment, that Lizbeth was going to break down. Then she lifted her chin and gathered her dignity around her like a cloak.
“If you don’t mind…”
“I do mind.” He caught her by the arm. “Don’t turn away now, Lizbeth. We need to…”
The ringing of his cell phone interrupted. He groaned aloud as he snatched it from his pocket. “Yes?”
He listened, then sighed. “I’ll be right there.”
He jammed the phone into his pocket. “Bill Yardley says the crew is finished. He wants me to inspect the job before he pays them. Will you come with me?”
She shook her head. “I can’t. Not right now.”
As she started to turn away he lay a hand on her arm. “I’ll have to be gone several hours. But I hope we can talk when I come back.”
Because she was afraid to trust her voice, she merely gave a slight nod of her head.
She stood where she was, listening to the sound of his footsteps and the closing of the door. Minutes later she heard the sound of his truck. And then there was only silence. It was a sound she’d lived with for a very long time.
Lizbeth knelt in the garden, pruning, snipping, weeding. The sun, which had earlier vanished behind clouds, was now shining brightly.