Rowan made a noise of denial, but her mother kept talking.
"You took charge and organized our lives. When I was ready, you helped me get back to work and learn to live with my grief."
"Mom, you would have pulled through on your own. You’re a strong woman."
"Perhaps. It was such a shock, I really couldn’t function for a long time after your father’s death. For you, not having Phillip to depend on made you stronger. I swear I don’t know how you did it, knowing how your heart was aching for him and your father."
Gently reaching out and squeezing her mother’s hand, Rowan thought back to those tumultuous years and sighed. "We made it together, all of us."
"We did because you chose a difficult path and against all odds, made it work. Now it’s time to think about yourself."
"All I do is think about myself, Mom." Rowan finished off her tea and set the mug down on the glass-topped patio table between them. "I think about how stupid I was to follow Charlie into that building in the middle of the night and how I should have known better."
"That’s not what I mean, and you know it."
Rowan saw the quick, darting shadows of Pipistrelle bats diving for insects attracted to the glow of their garage light. "I’m like those moths the bats are after. Drawn by my curiosity to a dangerous situation and then consumed for my folly."
"You did what you thought was right. Stop blaming yourself and work with Phillip to find the answer to this horrible puzzle. Stop fighting him."
Rowan sighed. "Phillip wants joint custody of Ian, Mom."
"I know. He told me today when I came to pick you up from the office."
Rowan’s laugh was self-reproving. "I shouldn’t be surprised that he was so generous with his terms. It’s just that I feel like he’s coming into my life and taking control of more than my legal problems. Everything is coming apart, and I don’t know which way to go from here."
"Feelings can do that to a person."
"I don’t have time for feelings now, Mom. The only thing I have time to worry about is what you and Ian will do if I get sent to Leavenworth for fifty years. I guess Ian won’t be a problem. Phillip will watch out for him. I’ll have to sell the house—unless Phillip’s wants it. No I’ll sell it. You’ll need a power of attorney. I hate to think of you all by yourself. My God, we don’t even have health insurance. I’ve depended on the military to provide—"
"Enough!" Her mother smacked her mug down onto the patio table with a sharp crack. Standing abruptly, she stared down at Rowan, hands braced on hips.
"There are things in life that you cannot plan. Love is one of them. Rowan, if you can’t seize each moment and live your life to the fullest, you will wake up one day and the only thing that you will have to hold on to will be regret."
With that, she walked stiffly back to her own house, leaving Rowan curled up in her chair, tracing the rim of her cold mug with one finger.
Rowan glanced up into the night. A shooting star blazed across the darkness followed by another.
Make a wish, quick! Even that childhood tradition failed to lift her spirits. Wishes were for dreamers and she’d quit dreaming years ago.
* * *
Phillip spent an hour pleading with Laura to drop him off in the desert, then hours more waiting for his prey to show up. It finally paid off. He watched the gray pickup truck roll to a stop on a side road not far from Rowan’s house. Whoever it was had a clear view of both Rowan’s and Emma’s houses, but hopefully not Phillip’s hiding place deep in the creosote bushes.
He drew the binoculars up for a closer look, but the darkness obscured the driver except for the telltale ember of a cigarette. Phillip inched forward, afraid to turn on his flashlight for fear of discovery. The Marine Corps had taught him outdoor survival, but skulking through nighttime desert underbrush was not part of his training. He only hoped there wasn’t a rattlesnake lurking in his vicinity.
A coyote yipped out a call, answered by the pack. The eerie howls set his pulse racing. Phillip forced himself to stay calm. It was only a coyote…a dog…right? A wild dog out at night looking for an easy meal. Probably hoping he’d find a man stupid enough to be crawling through the desert at midnight.
One step…two. Before he realized it, Phillip was within ten feet of the vehicle. He hunkered down onto his haunches and lifted the binoculars. Malcolm Collins.
Phillip smiled to himself. So the weasel was doing a little snooping on his own, but why?
What are you after, Malcolm? Better yet, what are you trying to hide?
The thought came so quickly it surprised Phillip. Of course, Collins could have something to hide. Why else would he have botched Kemp’s murder investigation so badly?
Great theory. Now where’s the proof?
Phillip decided not to instigate a confrontation. If they were able to gather evidence that somehow incriminated Malcolm Collins, it wouldn’t do to tip their hands too soon.
The last light in Rowan’s house blinked out. Seconds later, Collins cranked the motor to life and eased down the road, back in the direction of Twentynine Palms.
"Tomorrow," Phillip murmured, and straightened to his feet. The uneven layers of sand beneath him didn’t cooperate. He slid, teetered for balance, then toppled backwards into a large patch of cactus.
* * *
Rowan didn’t know which woke her first—Oscar’s bark or the knocking. She was on her feet and downstairs in time to hear Zach say, "Good God, Phillip, what happened? Have you been shot?"
Phillip’s response was puzzling.
"Shut up and help me."
She could barely see their forms in the dim light of the darkened doorway. In wide-eyed horror, Rowan watched Phillip slump belly first to the floor of the entryway. He could barely move. A thousand questions slammed through her. Who shot him? How badly was he hurt?
Zach flipped on the light. Her shock and fear melted away, and she burst into peals of laughter. Zach’s rich bellows soon joined hers. Clumps of cholla cactus spines dotted Phillip’s back and buttocks, piercing him through his dark cotton shorts and shirt.
"Will one of you please quit laughing and pull them out?" he snapped.
Still giggling, Rowan went into the kitchen and retrieved a paper sack and a pair of needle-nose pliers.
Zach sat on the floor and leaned against the wall to watch the de-needling. "What happened? Someone shoot you with a cactus-loaded shotgun?"
Rowan tried to stop grinning and failed. It was a novel experience to be able to assist Phillip for a change. She relished the moment.
"I fell," he grumbled.
Zach smothered a snort. "You sure did. What were you doing out in the desert in the middle of the night? You could have been hurt."
He jerked his head up indignantly. "I was hurt."
Pliers raised, Rowan pulled back, amusement tickling her from head to toe. "And the answer to the question is?"
Using his arms as a cushion, he laid his head down. "Where’s Mike? He’s supposed to be watching the house."
"He has to sit duty at the base tonight." Rowan started with the spines that were easiest to reach—those barely hanging on. Most were embedded in his shirt and shorts, pricking him with every movement. "The question? Don’t move, please, these are very difficult to pull out."
Phillip winced. "There’s been a truck hanging around here lately. I wanted to see who it was."
Zach tucked his legs under himself meditation-style. "And?"
"Malcolm Collins."
She paused, pliers open in mid-grab. "Why would he be snooping around here?"
"I don’t know. He left as soon as your house lights went out."
"Because he knew we were in for the night," Zach said thoughtfully.
"That’s what I’m thinking… Rowan, please…the cactus?"
"Sorry." She yanked out another clump. "It almost sounds like you’re saying he leaves once he’s sure we’re settled down for the night."
"That’s exactly what I’m sa
ying. Tomorrow night I’m going to follow him. I would have tonight if I’d had a car."
"What did you do, walk here from the base?" Rowan asked.
"I got Laura to drop me off."
How sweet. Rowan located a needle stuck deep in the firm flesh of Phillip’s buttock and yanked as hard as she could.
"Ow!" Phillip rolled around, reaching for the offended spot. Realizing that his movement served to embed more cholla needles deeper into his other flank, he yelped and resumed his original position. Wincing, he reached back to locate the worst of the offending spikes.
She smacked his hand away. "Be still or you’ll have it in your hand next." When he rolled back into place, she added, "I don’t know why you don’t let the authorities handle this."
"Like you did?" he shot back. "Besides, Collins is one of the authorities. How far do you think an inquiry will go with him around?"
He was right. If it hadn’t been for Phillip’s persistence in the first place, Kemp’s murder never would have garnered a second look beyond the shoddy evidence Collins provided.
"Just be careful snooping around," Zach told him. "I’m really not in the mood to bury you or defend you for murder. Is there anything you need me to do?"
Phillip propped himself on his elbows. "Yeah, see if you can get some scoop on Collins. Contact someone from our investigative office in Pendleton if you have to."
Rowan yanked the last dozen needles out of Phillip and tossed them into the sack. "That should do it, but you’re really going to feel it for a few days. Strip down and I’ll throw your clothes in the washer. A long soak in my tub ought to help reduce the stinging and swelling."
"Not if I have to use that flowery soap."
She laughed. "There’s a bar of Dial under the bathroom sink."
Phillip peeled off his shirt and took the stairs two at a time. Rowan’s stomach did flip-flops at the sight of him. Years of physical training had sculpted his chest and back to perfection. Her fingers itched to caress the angles.
"I’m going to bed," Zach said. "Rowan, you wanted him cornered. Looks to me like he’s not going anywhere."
"I don’t think now is the—"
He steered her toward the stairs. "Just get it over with. I doubt you’ll get another opportunity as good as this one. The only way he can avoid you now is to jump out the window."
Rowan waited until she thought she heard Phillip slip into the tub. She gathered his clothes from where he had dropped them outside the bathroom door, and moved them as far away as possible. After a deep breath to steel her nerves and her resolve, she walked into the bathroom.
Phillip snapped a washcloth over his lap. "What the hell are you doing in here?"
"We need to talk…I need to talk. And you’re going to listen."
He leaned back and closed his eyes with a sigh of resignation. "Fine. Talk. But don’t come any closer."
Rowan sank to the floor and braced herself against the wall opposite the tub. "This won’t be easy—"
"Just spit it out and get it over with."
Harsh. Well, what had she expected? It was about to get worse.
Fighting for the strength to continue, Rowan concentrated on the white scar blazed across his left bicep—the result of his attempt to make love to her in the close confines of a sleeping bag. The confinement panicked her so, she had rolled them both onto a tent stake. His first exposure to her intense claustrophobia. Even then, bleeding from the jagged wound, he wasn’t as angry as he was now.
"Could you put aside your anger for a little while?" she asked in a quiet voice.
Silence was his answer. It was better than nothing. She’d take it.
"Why did you file for custody of Ian?"
He was quiet for so long, Rowan was afraid he wouldn’t answer. Finally, she saw the tension drain from his shoulders.
"After I saw that truck here again last night, I got scared. I thought it would be a way to protect him if something happened. I wanted our son’s safety and security resolved now just in case."
"I’m not going to fight you on this, Phillip. I’ll tell the judge that myself tomorrow morning. Ian is your son. You have a right to be a part of his life. You should have always been a part of his life."
He snorted, shifting slightly in the steaming water. "Strange that you should choose now to remember that."
Rowan flexed her fingers, searching for the right words. She found only the truth.
"I discovered I was pregnant about two weeks after you left on your ‘vacation.’" She made quote marks in the air with her fingers. "I was a little surprised since we were always so careful about not getting pregnant—well, almost always. You don’t know how ecstatic I was. All I could think about was telling you. We were going to have a baby. But you wouldn’t tell me where you were going or why. You kept putting me off, saying you had some ‘things’ to do and you needed to get away for a while." She could feel herself getting flushed with emotion. "I did call you, Phillip."
He opened his eyes and looked at her. Disbelief shadowed his face.
"I called every day for a week. Your father answered the phone each time. He said he didn’t know where you were and to stop calling. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t believe it."
"He didn’t know where I was. I didn’t tell anyone," Phillip said softly. "But, Rowan, I didn’t stay gone forever."
"Then Daddy had the heart attack. I called again. Nothing from you. Then he died. I called again. Your father said he’d give you the message. I called the next day and the next to see when you’d arrive for the funeral."
She paused and took a deep breath. "I needed you so badly. He said you weren’t coming. That you said whatever problems I had were mine to deal with. He said, ‘You should realize now, young woman, that you were nothing more than a college fling. Phillip is a Stuart. Stuarts don’t marry people like you. In fact, he hasn’t wasted any time finding an appropriate replacement for you. Shall I extend your congratulations on his engagement?’"
"He said what?" Phillip came out of the tub so fast, his cloth dropped.
Rowan looked away and motioned him back. "Stay where you are. Please." The pain was fresh again, ripping her heart and dreams in two.
"Rowan, I would never… How could you believe…?" He was paralyzed with shock and the beginnings of a terrible understanding.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I overheard the argument between you and your father the day before you left me. How he had lied to you all those years when he said he’d been paying your law school tuition. How he’d only been paying a small portion of the money, keeping the school from telling you about your mounting debts. And that another payment was due. I heard him tell you that if you didn’t go back and work for Big, Red, and Thor…"
He waved her poor attempt at old humor away like it was a pesky fly. "Biggs, Reed, and Moore."
"Whatever…that you were going to be stuck with that enormous tuition debt. I knew you didn’t have that kind of money. I certainly didn’t."
"You overheard us arguing?"
She nodded miserably. "I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but Claudia was waiting in the car for us, and she sent me inside to see what was taking you so long to find your keys. The door to the library was open a crack, and your voices were so loud, I couldn’t help but overhear."
"Why didn’t you tell me afterwards?" he demanded.
"I was afraid, Phillip. Afraid that what Donald said was true. That I was holding you back and that your long years of legal education would be wasted in some public school job." She pressed her head against her bent knees.
"So you think I’d bow to his pressure?" He grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it tightly around his waist. Then he sat on the edge of the tub, elbows braced on knees. "Rowan, what were the last words I said to you later that same day?"
"That you loved me."
"And I’d find a way to work things out in our lives. That I needed your understanding. I asked you to trust me and give me
some time to solve my problems."
"I didn’t know it was going to be nine years, Phillip."
"It wasn’t supposed to be nine years. It was eight weeks. I joined the Marine Corps. Thought I’d take your father’s example, I guess."
"Obviously. Why didn’t you tell me then? Didn’t you think I would support you?"
He gave a humorless chuckle. "I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to support you. It was a shot in the dark. I needed money…security for both of us. Yeah, I could have gotten by working for that law firm, but it would have meant that my father had won and that I was another easily-controlled piece in his game. I honestly didn’t know if I could make it through Officer Candidate School. I didn’t want to get your hopes up, only to fail you. I’m not good at failure, Rowan." He paused and shifted on the edge of the tub. "I called you the minute I knew I’d made it."
"And I refused your calls." A tear slipped down her cheek to the point of her chin.
"Why in the name of God did you do that?"
A sob tore from her chest. "I’d love to tell you that I was noble. That I loved you so much all I wanted was your happiness, even if that meant you wanted to be with someone else. But I’m not noble, Phillip. I hated you. I hated the very air you breathed. I hurt so bad for all those weeks you were gone, and all I wanted was for you to rot in hell with the bimbo you were engaged to. And then…"
It was too much. She buried her face in her hands and cried. Phillip was instantly by her side, wrapping her in that embrace that was so familiar, so comfortable, so right. Rowan gave in, holding tightly as she had longed to do all these years.
"I didn’t get to finish college. The pregnancy was hard on me. I was sick a lot. Daddy’s death tore me up. On top of all that I lost you. I honestly thought you had given in to Donald, married some rich socialite to pay off your debts, and joined in the family law practice."
She took a deep breath. "Mom was in such a state after Daddy died. I didn’t know what else to do, so after Ian was born, I joined the Marine Corps. It was such a familiar part of my childhood, and I knew from Daddy what to expect. One year became two, then three, then eight, then I re-enlisted for four more. It’s a good career."
Always Faithful Page 14