Gentleness vanished and heat took its place. Edging her mouth open, Paul felt the sweet sigh of her breath. The sweetness inflamed him, urging further exploration. There was an excitement in her touch that was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Even with Susan it had never been like this. Feelings, sharp and poignant, made him pause. Had all that anger been worth it?
Conflicted, Paul slowly drew back, seeing the questions in Katherine's eyes, the flush in her cheeks. He placed two fingers over the hollow of her throat, feeling the rapid pulse, which revealed more than words.
"Elliott?" she asked softly.
"It's me, not you," he responded, unable to transfer his pain to her. "Be patient with me."
Gently she took his hand. "I have the rest of our lives. I can wait." Then she reached into her pocket and withdrew a gold ring. She slipped it on his left hand, her gaze lifting to meet his. "I know how much your wedding band meant to you. It's not as good as having your memory back, but at least I can give you this part of your past."
Speechless, he could only gaze between the caring in her eyes and the ring she'd placed on his finger.
"It's an exact duplicate." Katherine smiled, her fingers easing over the warm burnished gold. "I don't think anyone other than the maker could tell them apart."
His throat closed. If she wasn't what he suspected, if Matthew hadn't survived, she was in for a world of pain. And his actions were multiplying that beyond comprehension. Beyond anything he had ever intended.
* * *
"Elly-ut!" Danny called, dragging his wagon across the yard toward the deck.
Paul glanced up, a grin creasing his face. The kid was something else. He'd become a virtual shadow. "Over here, champ."
The little wagon filled with boards rattled as Dustin approached. "I gots more lummer," he announced.
"We'll need quite a bit of lumber to finish the job," Paul told him, watching as Dustin earnestly unloaded the small pieces of wood Paul had already cut. He didn't want the kid handling any nails or real tools, and hauling the boards kept him happy.
"How comes there's a hole in the deck?" Dustin asked as he carefully stacked the wood.
"Your mom said a tree limb fell down in the last big storm."
Dustin's small lips pursed in a frown. "Oh, yeah. She wouldn't let me play out here till it was fixed."
"She was afraid you'd get hurt, champ. It's a pretty big hole, big enough to swallow you. We'll have to make sure it's shored up before you start playing on the deck again."
Dustin nodded, digging into his plastic toolbox. "I gots a hammer."
"Good. I can use all the help I can get."
Dustin grinned, a miniature imitation of his mother's sunshine smile. "We gonna fix that hole?"
"Yep."
"Mommy'll be surprised," Dustin told him as he unloaded more of his play tools. "She didn't think you was ever gonna fix it."
Pausing, Paul stared at him. Procrastination wasn't a good example to set for a child. "Well, I'm going to try to be better about not putting off things."
Dustin screwed his small face into a mask of concentration. "What if you don't like the stuff you have to do?"
"Even more reason to do it right away. It's easy to do the stuff you like, but it builds character to face what you don't like."
"What's char…?"
"Character is what makes a man really a man. It's the part of you that tells you to do the right thing, even if it's not what you want to do, and even if it's easier to do something wrong."
Dustin crunched his face in renewed concentration. "Like when Mommy says the good voice is always inside – you just gotta listen to it?"
Impressed, Paul nodded. "That's right."
Dustin scuffed his feet. "What if you don't listen to the voice?"
Paul studied the boy's face. "Depends. Want to tell me about it?"
Dustin continued to scuff his feet, but finally lifted troubled eyes to meet Paul's. "Brian's got all the Star Wars guys…"
"And?"
"I wanted one, but Brian wouldn't let me have it…"
"And?" Paul prompted again.
"I took it," Dustin admitted, his voice reduced to a mumble.
"Did you have fun with it?"
Slowly Dustin shook his head. "My tummy hurts when I play with it."
"Do you know why?"
Another shake of the head.
"Sometimes that little voice inside lives in your tummy. And it's trying to get you to listen. Do you know why?"
Dustin's lips trembled. "'Cause taking something's wrong?"
"You got it, champ. Do you know what you have to do now?"
Dustin thought for a moment. "Give it back?"
"Yep. Know what else you have to do?"
Dustin shook his head, tears starting to well.
"You have to tell Brian you're sorry."
The tears began to fall.
Instinctively Paul picked up Dustin and put him on his lap. "Would you like me to help you do that, champ?"
Dustin's sniffles lessened. "Uh-huh." Still his lower lip wobbled.
Paul drew him close. "You made a mistake, Dustin. But that's how we learn to do the right things. We all make mistakes." Paul thought of Matthew. "I made some bloopers growing up."
Dustin hiccuped a remaining sob. "Like what?"
"Like the time I locked my brother in the gardener's shed because a girl we both liked was coming over. Even then he was a charmer, and the girls always liked him better." He and Matthew had been twelve at the time, and Paul hadn't thought about the incident in years.
"Did you get in trouble?"
"Sure did. But more importantly I learned it was something I shouldn't have done. And you know what?"
Dustin's head was nestled against Paul's chest in a trusting manner. "What?"
"My brother forgave me and we were still the best of friends."
"Like me and Brian?"
"Just like you and Brian. You two are as close as brothers."
"What's your brother's name?"
"People always called both of us Elliott," Paul replied gruffly.
Dustin thought about that for a minute. "And the other Elly-ut wasn't mad at you?"
"Some. And Brian may not be happy when you tell him at first, and that might make you feel bad. But that's how you learn, too."
Dustin's face scrunched up again. "Is that conskences?"
Paul studied him for a moment. "Consequences? Yes, that's exactly what they are." Katherine had taught him well.
"Stuff's hard, Elly-ut."
"It sure is, champ. But when you've done the right thing, it'll make you feel good all over. Your tummy won't hurt when you play with Brian, and that little voice inside will be saying happy things."
"I like happy things."
Paul met the boy's trusting unblinking gaze. "Me, too, Dustin. Me, too."
* * *
Jessica's house was a place of calm, a port for every emotional storm. A pineapple, the traditional symbol of Southern hospitality, was carved above the front door. Though small, the house had an illusion of spaciousness. Warm splashes of deep lavender and tropical red welcomed visitors into the comfortable sitting area. It was an open-floor plan, with bedrooms tucked off on a side wing.
One wall of the main living area was all windows. Jessica's drafting table stood in a prominent spot, drenched with the favorable light. Beside the table were neat carriers filled with rows and rows of paints, pencils and markers, creating a vivid palette all their own.
Because the children were equally fascinated with the art supplies, Jessica had set up an area just for them, with a miniature carrier generously stocked with appropriate children's markers and paints. There were two pint-size easels and stools, as well, one for Brian and one for Dustin.
Jessica walked in from the kitchen with a tray. "Iced tea and cookies," she said to Katherine. "I guess it should be something a little more grownup, but with kids in the house…" She shrugged eloquently. "At least I'm not
serving milk!"
"I get enough pastry," Katherine reminded her with a smile. "Give me an Oreo any day." She took one, immediately popping it open to taste the cream filling.
Jessica smiled as she picked up her cup of tea. "I guess we never really get that far from our roots."
Katherine frowned as she reached for another cookie. "You really think so?"
"I wasn't trying to be particularly deep or philosophical," Jessica replied. "Just that we all tend to fall into the ruts we're accustomed to."
"I hope not. I'd like to think I left my own cold roots far behind."
Jessica smiled gently. "As an impartial observer, let me say you most definitely have."
"Impartial? Ha!" Katherine's smile softened. "Glad you're not impartial, actually. But enough of me. How are things going with Rod?"
For the briefest of moments a line appeared between Jessica's brows. It disappeared so quickly Katherine almost wondered if she'd imagined it. "Okay, I guess."
"That doesn't sound like an overwhelming endorsement."
Jessica laughed deprecatingly. "I didn't mean it like that. I guess I was used to so much with Michael…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes brightened suspiciously.
Katherine rose from her chair to sit beside Jessica on the couch. "Has something happened to bring up the memories?"
Jessica's smile was bittersweet. "It doesn't take anything special. Those memories never go away."
"Oh, Jessica!"
"It's not all bad. The pain does fade with time. But remembering how it was then…" She glanced around the room. "It gets lonely, not having someone special to share everything with. You know, the worries—" her smile eclipsed her words "—the silly things. The love."
Katherine trod carefully. "And you don't think Rod could be that special man?"
Jessica's eyes clouded. "I wanted so much for him to be, but now I'm not sure."
"It's early in the relationship," Katherine offered, struggling to remain neutral, since she, too, wasn't certain that Rod was special enough for her friend.
"You're right." Jessica glanced out the oversize windows. "And maybe there's only one true love in a person's life. Perhaps the rest is just surface."
"That's not what you told me," Katherine reminded her gently, "when I met Matthew."
"But you don't think Dustin's father was really a true love, do you?" Jessica asked.
Katherine shrugged. "That's hard to say. I certainly didn't expect Taylor to be as rigid and demanding as my family was. You know that I tried to change to please him. And, of course, he was furious when he found out I was pregnant, even angrier when I refused to have an abortion. Yet, when our relationship began, I thought I loved him. Isn't that all we can go by? What we know at the time?"
Jessica nodded. "I suppose. Do you think I shouldn't compare Rod to Michael? Maybe no one will ever live up to Michael's memory. Maybe I should just accept Rod as he is.
"Maybe." Katherine wavered. It was becoming even more difficult to remain neutral. "I'm not sure a little comparison is wrong. After all, Michael did make you happy. Maybe someone with his same qualities will, too."
Jessica frowned again and chewed on her lower lip. "And you don't think Rod has those qualities?"
"I honestly don't know him well enough to say," Katherine replied truthfully.
"Maybe we need to spend more time together." Jessica's eyes lit up. "As couples, I mean. You and Elliott, Rod and me. But not when Rod's bartending at one of the events for you. That doesn't count. We need to be in an unstructured situation where you and Elliott can get to know him better."
"Sure, we'll set up something soon."
Jessica brightened further. "You told me you don't have anything booked tonight and I know Rod's free. Why don't we go dancing?" She waggled her brows. "You and Elliott can show Rod how happy married life can be."
Surprised, Katherine stared at her friend. Was she already thinking of Rod in those terms? She met Jessica's excited eyes and realized that was exactly what she was thinking. "I didn't know things had become that serious."
Jessica's brightness dimmed slightly. "It hasn't. But with your help…"
Briefly Katherine thought of her own experience with Taylor. Pushing aside the memory, she smiled. "Then I guess we're your matchmakers."
* * *
Chapter 10
«^»
Paul hadn't really thought much about the resurgence of big-band music. It had been a long time since he'd had the time or inclination to get anywhere near a dance floor. But the newly revitalized Stardust Ballroom was growing on him.
Despite the requisite glittering ball that dominated the high ceiling, the room had a wealth of dusky corners. And the music provided opportunity for contact. Lots of it.
Paul held Katherine in his arms as they whirled to the dreamy notes of the song. No wonder people considered the forties a romantic decade, he decided. Instead of a loud beat that ratcheted the senses, this was a gentler more pervasive intrusion.
Paul tightened his hold on Katherine's waist, but regrettably the song drew to a close. As they hesitantly stepped apart, Katherine's gaze caught his, an incredibly sweet smile curving her lips.
His breath quickened and he stepped toward her again. The pace of the music changed suddenly to a fast swing tune that had the crowd tapping their feet. Paul tried to get his breathing and senses back on track.
"I'm game if you are," he challenged, holding out one hand.
She accepted it with a grin. "You know I am." Along with the rest of the crowd, they swung, dipped and turned to the magnetic music. Laughing and nearly out of breath when the song ended, they wove a path back to their table.
"I thought the members of a swing band would be about a hundred years old," Katherine observed, glancing at the group whose oldest member couldn't have been more than twenty-three or twenty-four.
"Instead, we're the geezers," Paul responded dryly.
Katherine tapped his arm lightly in reproof. "Not that it shows, I hope!"
"On you, not a minute," he responded truthfully. She could have passed for nineteen, he thought, with her wild hair and youthful enthusiasm.
She smiled, her face dimpling prettily.
"You two act like honeymooners," Jessica observed, smiling as she looked at them.
Katherine blushed.
Jessica rolled her eyes. "Okay, I'm convinced." She glanced at her date. "Don't you think so, Rod?"
"Sure," he responded, his gaze flicking over the crowd as it had all evening. It was as if he was searching for something or someone.
Watching him, Katherine felt uncomfortable. When she'd been single, she'd hated it when a man was with her but still kept checking out the crowd.
Just then, Rod turned to Jessica as though he'd had his attention focused on her the entire time. He leaned forward, moving his fingers through her long blond hair, then kissing her intimately.
Katherine looked away. Luckily Rod chose that moment to ask Jessica to dance.
"Thank goodness," Katherine breathed when they were out of earshot.
Elliott looked at her with interest. "For what?"
"Let's just say I've had enough of Rod for a while."
He glanced toward the departing couple. "Still don't approve of the boyfriend?"
"Not really." Katherine lowered her glass. "Do you?"
Elliott shrugged. "Not my place to say." She blew out an exasperated breath. "We're not taking an indictment to the grand jury here, just an opinion."
"Okay. Rod doesn't really seem to be her type." Katherine turned so she could see Rod and Jessica better. "He's tall, muscular, blond." She ticked the items off on her fingers. "Admittedly he's good-looking…" Her voice trailed off as realization struck her.
"What?"
"Rod looks a little like Michael," she said. "Not the strength of character, but the basics. I wonder if in her mind's eye Jessica sees Michael's face when she looks at Rod."
"Is it that close a resemblance?"
Elliott angled his head. "Is that so?"
"You know what I mean. Jessica misses Michael terribly – she's never gotten over losing him. So when she looks at Rod, the edges get a little fuzzy. The whole picture blurs."
"You think someone can actually do that?" he asked soberly.
Katherine studied his expression to see if he was teasing, then she relaxed. "Yes. We all do it sometimes. Parents do it when they look at their not-very-well-behaved children and see little angels. Grown children do it when they look at their aging parents and still see them as they were when they were younger, refusing to see how frail they've become. Sometimes we're so desperate to hang on to the familiar that we can no longer see the present – what's real, what isn't. And sometimes we all need the fuzzy edges."
Paul unexpectedly took her hand. "We do, huh?"
Warmth flooded her cheeks. "I think so. I'm sure you've needed some fuzzy edges of your own lately."
He straightened in his chair. "Meaning?"
"The world's not always a pretty place, but when it's completely unfamiliar, I suppose it can be downright ugly."
"You're right. It has been difficult."
She nodded. "I thought so."
"And it's not easy pretending to know things I don't." He looked away, not meeting her glance, afraid she'd spot the pretense in his eyes. "Mostly I hate knowing I'm disappointing you by not recovering my memory any faster."
Katherine squeezed his hand. "That's not what you should be worrying about! All I care about is you getting well." She glanced down at their joined hands. "And I don't want to put pressure on you." Hesitantly she met his eyes. "When I talked with Jessica this afternoon, I realized how much she still misses Michael, and … how lucky I am." Her lashes drifted closed for a moment. "How very lucky. As long as you're safe, I don't care how long it takes for you to recover your memory."
THE WRONG BROTHER Page 8