Taylor frowned. “Katie, just rest. The doctor said you didn’t need to hear—”
Katie forced her eyes open, staring up at him. “Tell me what happened.”
He took a deep breath, his heavily bandaged right hand closing over hers. “The bookstore…everything is destroyed.”
Her eyes widened. “N-not my apartment, too…my mother’s piano?”
Taylor winced at the pain in her scratchy voice. “Everything. I’m sorry….”
No! Katie bit down hard on her lower lip until she tasted blood. She had worked for five years to create that apartment. And her mother’s piano—the wonderful piano that brought back so many happy childhood memories—ashes. Everything was gone. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, and she felt Taylor brush them away.
“They caught him—the guy who did it,” Taylor told her, hoping to erase some of the suffering he saw etched in her face. “He was the first man on my suspect list, the one I saw this morning. After I questioned him, he must have gotten scared.” Taylor stroked her ebony hair. It still smelled heavily of smoke. “He’s under arrest now. And you’re safe.”
Maud nudged Taylor sharply, indicating that he should take Katie in his arms. Mouthing the words ‘Go on!’ the older woman slipped quietly from the room.
A sob tore from Katie’s throat as Taylor leaned over the bed, drawing her into his arms.
“Come here, princess. This is our pain, our loss,” he said thickly. “I’m responsible for all of this.”
“N-no.”
“Sshhh, just let me hold you and help you the best I know how. I can’t give you back your piano or your apartment, Katie. I know how much they meant to you.” Taylor kissed her damp temple, burying his face in her hair. “All you have left is a jaded big-city reporter in the clutches of a premature midlife crisis. But I’ll be here for you, Katie, if you’ll let me. I’ll help you rebuild, or do anything you want.”
She clung to him, needing his love and the unsteady words that tore from deep within him. “Y-you’re not jaded,” she managed. “And I don’t blame you for what happened.”
Taylor eased her back so that he could look into her tear-filled eyes that were little more than wounded holes of grief. “I love you, Katie. My love can’t replace what you lost, but maybe—if you want it to—it can give you the strength to carry on.”
Her heart mushroomed with such violent joy that Katie thought she might die. The euphoria flowed through her as she met his dark gray eyes, glittering dangerously with tears. “You love me? You really do?”
He managed a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Why are you looking at me so strangely? It’s not a joke, princess. And I’m not saying it out of guilt, either.” He cradled her face between his hands. “I almost lost you, Katie. I was beside myself when I couldn’t find you in the apartment.” He shut his eyes. “As I ran back down the stairs, I knew I couldn’t picture life without you. Without your laughter, your special way of looking at things. I stopped believing in God a long time ago, back when I was working the crime beat. At least I thought I did. When I was running around the back of the bookstore, trying to gain entrance, I prayed, Katie. I told God if he’d give me a second chance and let me find you alive, I’d try to straighten out my life, my priorities.” He opened stormy gray eyes to hold hers. “It’s not important at the moment whether you…love me or not. I’m older and more experienced. When you came crashing into my life, you changed everything.” He managed a smile. “I just didn’t want to admit it at first. But the fire, and almost losing you, changed everything.”
Katie reached up to touch his charcoal-smudged cheek. She wasn’t sure who smelled more of smoke, or looked more disheveled. “Can I go home with you, Taylor? Do I have to stay here tonight?”
He leaned down, tenderly caressing her lips. “You have to stay overnight for observation. How about if I come by tomorrow morning and pick you up? The doctor said you should be ready for release by then.”
So much was happening! Katie nodded, unable to separate her joy from her loss. She tilted her head, pressing her lips to his mouth, reveling in being alive, being loved.
Tomorrow would come soon enough. And with it, she would see the destruction that the fire had wrought….
Taylor had brought a pair of his khakis and a light blue sport shirt for Katie to wear. Her face was pale as he walked her out of the hospital and to his car. The bright California sunshine streamed down, and Katie absorbed the rays like a starved winter flower. Right now, Taylor’s strength was her strength. After he had left last night, she had cried herself to sleep. But she woke up now and then, reliving the horror of the fire. The dark circles under her eyes looked permanent as she stared in the mirror this morning. She didn’t look like the vivacious Katie who flitted like a butterfly through life’s trials and crises….
She hugged her arms around herself. Taylor glanced her way as they drove from the hospital.
“Cold?”
“No. I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
Her mouth tilted painfully. “How old I feel. I don’t feel like myself, Taylor. It’s frightening.”
He placed his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. “It’s the shock. Nothing more.”
Katie rallied. “Are you sure? I feel so empty inside. As if I’m dead or something.”
“Trust me. I’ve seen plenty of victims traumatized by burglary, physical assault, rape and anything other crime you care to name, Katie. They all react the same way. They have that desolate, hollow feeling inside.”
“Does it go away?”
“Eventually,” Taylor promised. “Sooner for some, later for others.” Taylor shared a tender look with her. Katie looked fragile, and that scared him. He’d never seen her melancholy; he was used to her vibrant smile and those beautiful lapis eyes shining with the warmth of the sun. But didn’t everyone have vulnerable areas? His broken marriage had been his.
Katie’s loss of her source of income and her home was even more severe a blow. Taylor hated to talk business, but he knew they had to.
“Katie, was your bookstore insured?”
She looked away, staring blindly out the window. “I couldn’t afford to pay insurance premiums, Taylor. I barely made the mortgage payment every month. I knew I should have coverage, but I just didn’t have the money. I lost at least fifty thousand dollars’ worth of books in that fire. I owe another twenty thousand on “the building so I guess the bank will take the property and the building insurance.” Katie rubbed her forehead, willing away the tears that wanted to fall.
“How about your apartment? The piano?”
Pain ripped through her. “No,” she whispered rawly, “nothing was insured.”
“I see.” He wished he could shelter Katie from the shock of seeing the gutted building. Taylor felt helpless as he guided the growling Camry around the comer and down the street toward the spot where her bookstore had been. “There’s not much left to see, princess.” He braked and parked, glancing over at Katie. Her eyes were huge, and the remaining color had drained from her face. Dammit. He could do nothing to ease her anguish. He got out and opened her door, helping her out.
Katie was determined not to cry. Among the crowd on the street she recognized at least a dozen of her aging friends, people who had brought their pets to her in the past. Dr. Abrams and his red-haired wife, Toni, stood solemnly with them. They waited on her in a semicircle. Maud was with them, her face set and resolute. Behind them was a burned-out, brick shell that had once been Katie’s entire world. Now it was nothing more than a few charred timbers here and there, scattered like toothpicks by some unseen giant hand, and ashes almost a foot deep everywhere else. Even now, the debris smoldered, white wisps of smoke rising here and there from the ruins.
Taylor put his arm around Katie, drawing her close. He looked down at her, his eyes tender. “There are an awful lot of people who love you, Katie. They’ve been waiting most of the morning here for you.”
Katie
tried to smile as Taylor drew her to a halt. He released her and the small crowd enclosed her. Proud, thin Mrs. Beaumont, who lived off a meager fixed income that hugged the poverty level, was the first to embrace her.
“Now, you just dry those tears, Katie,” the old woman whispered fiercely, holding Katie with all the failing strength of her eighty-nine-year-old arms. “We got all the neighbors together last night after Mr. Grant told us you were going to be fine.” She smiled and stepped back, her green eyes watering. Digging into her crocheted handbag, she pulled out a check, waving it under Katie’s nose.
“I went around last night and told everyone about what had happened to you. All of us who had ever come to you for help donated money to help you build another bookstore, Katie.” Mrs. Beaumont pushed the check into Katie’s hand. “Here, you take this. It isn’t much, but it’s a start. As we’ve already told Maud, we’re all prepared to help. Why, I’m a whiz when it comes to painting. And Mrs. Talbot says she’ll hang wallpaper. And grumpy old Mr. Evans has promised to do some carpentry for you.”
Tears blurred Katie’s vision as she looked down at the neatly typed cashier’s check from a local bank: $952.56. A sob caught in her aching throat. Most of her patients were elderly and lived on fixed incomes. They couldn’t afford to give this kind of money to anyone. More, how could she tell all these wonderful people that their generous gift was a mere drop in the bucket, compared to the thousands she now owed.
“Oh…Mrs. Beaumont—”
“Don’t you dare try to give that back, young lady!” Mrs. Beaumont warned archly, taking a step back, her chin held high.
“But—”
Taylor stepped to her side, realizing Katie wasn’t able to cope with the situation. He put an arm around her and smiled at Mrs. Beaumont.
“I just want all of you to know Claire Garvey of the Raintree Restaurant has invited anyone who donated to Katie’s new bookstore down for afternoon tea at four o’clock this afternoon. Can you all make it? Mrs. Beaumont, can you spread the word? I’ll arrange transportation for those who need it.”
Katie raised her head to give Taylor a blank look. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched the check in her hand.
With a pert nod, Mrs. Beaumont tapped her cane smartly on the sidewalk. “Wonderful, Mr. Grant! I’ll accept Mrs. Garvey’s kind invitation on behalf of everyone concerned.”
Confused, Katie hugged each and every individual, voicing her thanks. And when Dr. Abrams and his wife came over, giving Taylor a knowing grin, she was even more confused.
“We’ll see you this afternoon, Katie,” Dr. Abrams told her, patting her hand.
She and Taylor were left standing alone near the gutted building. Katie looked at it. There wasn’t a shred of evidence that her mother’s piano had ever existed. Nothing survived. She looked down at the check and then over at Taylor.
“I—I never expected this. Look at the amount. None of them can afford this, Taylor.”
He smiled, looking deeply into her beautiful eyes. “They gave from their hearts, Katie. Aren’t you the one who always said that gifts from the heart are the richest kind? That money pales in comparison? Well, that’s how they felt about helping you get back on your feet.” He took her arm, gently pulling her from the once-beautiful apartment and the crazy little bookstore. “Come on, princess, we’ve got to get you some new clothes. You can’t go to tea looking like a bedraggled puppy, now can you?”
The Raintree Restaurant was filled to capacity—more than one hundred fifty people were seated when Taylor and Katie arrived. She hung close to him, feeling emotional and out of balance from the whirlwind pace of the day. When she stepped through the revolving, glass-and-brass door, the entire restaurant crowd broke into welcoming applause. Claire Garvey came forward, a huge smile on her face as she pulled Katie to her side. Taylor remained discreetly in the background, hands in the pockets of his dark brown slacks, a tender smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“Katie, we just want you to know,” Claire began, her strong voice carrying over the assemblage, “we’re glad to have you with us.” She tucked her arm around Katie’s waist, drawing her toward the center of the restaurant. Katie recognized almost every business owner in Rio Conchos. More important, all her elderly friends were there, too, smiling broadly, their eyes shining. And down in front, with Suzie in her cage, sat little Brandon Prater and his parents, Scott and Jo Ann. Katie gave Claire a helpless look.
“Claire, what’s going on here?”
The crowd erupted into delighted laughter.
Claire grinned. “We’re glad you asked that, Katie. Now, you just stand here while I go through this speech I prepared especially of you. From all of us. There isn’t one person in this room who can remember a time when you didn’t give us a smile, a cheerful word, a quick hug, or, most important, your wonderful touch when we needed it. When word spread about how you’d been harassed by telephone for three terrible weeks and our police department did little to try to apprehend the caller, we all felt guilty, Katie. You always gave without asking for anything in return. And before you open your mouth, we all know how you feel on that subject!”
Laughter filled the room.
Claire smiled. “We know you believe in something called the “cosmos” and “karma.” You never charged a penny for your services, not to touch an ailing pet or to touch us when we had an aching shoulder, a severe headache, or worse. You wouldn’t let anyone pay you for gas to take people shopping or on errands.” Her smile disappeared. “Well, Katie, we know you lost everything. And we want you to stay in Rio Conchos and build us another bookstore, a place where we can bring our pets—and ourselves, too.”
Katie shot a glance at Taylor who was leaning casually against the wall, his eyes burning with a fierce tenderness. She swallowed painfully. “I—I don’t understand, Claire. You’ve already given me a check for a lot of money.”
Claire patted her hand in motherly fashion. “Just stand here and listen for the next fifteen minutes, Katie, and you’ll see.”
The mayor of Rio Conchos, Ben McCord, who was also president of the bank where Katie took out her loan and the owner of a huge lumberyard, stood up. He was a rotund man, and he straightened his loosely fitting sports coat.
“Katie, as a private citizen of Rio Conchos,” he began in his best political stumping voice, “it’s my honor to donate the lumber for your new bookshop. As a businessman and president of the bank, I’ve decided to let your loan float until your store is built.” His joviality dissolved. “And as mayor of this fine California community, I apologize on behalf of our police department. Changes are being made to ensure that every citizen is equally protected under the law.”
Dick Martin, owner of the hardware store, stood up next. “Katie, we’d be honored if you’d take whatever items you need to hang those boards together with.” A round of laughter erupted. “Don Mayer? You own a construction outfit. What have you donated to help Katie get back on her feet?”
Stunned by the outpouring of generosity, Katie could only stand, gripping Claire’s hand. This wasn’t a dream! Each person who donated goods or services was earnest and sincere. By the time they were done, Katie was dazed.
“Now, all these fine people have donated the materials for your new bookstore, Katie,” Claire said. “But one thing is missing. A building lot!”
Everyone laughed.
“Taylor Grant?” Claire called.
Katie looked toward him as he slowly walked to the spot where she and Claire stood. He was wearing that same odd smile, and her heart beat a little harder to underscore the intensity of her emotions. Katie swallowed her tears as Taylor came to her side. He smiled and then looked over the hushed, expectant audience, picking up Katie’s hands in his.
“Normally, I’m not one who likes being in the spotlight,” he began awkwardly. His voice grew stronger as he continued. “Most of you know by now of the blunder I made. I did a story on Katie that more or less called her a fake. It starte
d a messy chain of events that ended nearly taking her life.” Taylor looked down at her, his voice strained. “I’m the one who took away her bookstore and her world. I may never be able to replace what she lost, but I’d like to try to atone by donating the land for her next bookstore.” He cleared his throat. “How does a comer lot in the Rancho Santa Fe mall sounds to you, Katie?”
Surprise widened her eyes. “Rancho Santa Fe?” she squeaked. “But that’s the busiest mall in the county! And store space runs—”
“I just signed a two-year lease on behalf of the Unicorn Bookstore. The lot is located on the busiest comer in the mall.”
My God! Katie opened her mouth and then shut it. How could Taylor have gotten that kind of money? He wasn’t rich! And then a wave of anxiety hit her. Had the crazy, wonderful idiot sold his car and his house or gone into hock up to his elbows to get that lease? She was vaguely aware of the crowd coming to its feet and applause thundering through the restaurant. She stared blankly up at Taylor, the questions implicit in her gaze. A boyish smile crossed his mouth, and he leaned over, lips near her ear.
“I sold some blue-chip stocks I was saving for a rainy day. Now, stop worrying, Katie. I didn’t sell my soul to the devil to get that lease for you. Okay?”
The stars hung huge and close, like small crystals suspended by some unseen hand in the black velvet of the heavens. Katie sighed as she stood on the back porch of Taylor’s home, a pale pink shawl across her shoulders. She turned when she heard his footsteps.
“There you are.”
Katie smiled as he halted behind her and drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close. “I just can’t believe today, Taylor. It’s like a dream.”
“One that came true for a fairy-tale princess who believes in miracles.” He inhaled the lilac scent of her skin, finding the nape of her neck, kissing her gently.
A Chance Encounter Page 16