by Kimberly van Meter - A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)
“You bet your sweet tail you will. Don’t even think about boarding that plane before giving me a chance to make you a home-cooked meal. I’m thinking of inviting everyone over for halibut and rice.”
“Sounds delicious, Mama. Can’t wait.” And then he practically sprinted for the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MORGAN WAS JUST packing up her office to leave for the day when Wade walked in. She wasn’t going to lie—her heartbeat sped up when she saw his face, and she couldn’t help the tremulous smile that followed.
“I see you two have a lot to talk about,” Remy said, closing the door behind him, leaving her and Wade alone.
She was deliriously happy to see him but her mouth hadn’t got the memo because she immediately blurted, “What are you doing here?” before she could stop it. She winced and tried to make amends, saying. “I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you. I’m just surprised after our last conversation. I didn’t think you’d want to see me after how things had ended.”
He walked toward her, and she backed up until her rear bumped the desk and she could go no farther. He invaded her space in a deliciously masculine way, and it was all she could do not to melt in a puddle of want and feminine goo. Was it because he was so damn handsome? Was this some kind of evolutionary process at work? She didn’t know. All she knew was that when she was within close proximity of Wade Sinclair, she became a riot of hormones.
“It occurred to me that you and I have a lot more to say and before I board my plane I’m going to say it.”
She licked her lips, curious and hopeful. “Oh? I mean, yes. I’m glad you came by because I have a few things I would like to say to you, too.” Morgan nodded, clearing her head so that she could actually make sense instead of babble. “I’m really sorry I came off as such a coldhearted bitch when you came to me and shared your situation. It was unbecoming of me and I’m so sorry. I think I panicked a little and ended up saying a few things that were actually untrue.”
“You don’t need to apologize. The news came as a shock to me, as well.”
“No, I do need to apologize. And I need to explain. Can we sit down for a minute?” Morgan gestured toward the small sofa in her office, and Wade reluctantly backed away. Her hands fluttered as she took a seat. “I could use a glass of wine to steady my nerves but as you can imagine, I don’t keep alcohol here.”
A wry smile twisted his mouth as he sat beside her. “Understandable,” he said. Wade saw the tremble in her hands and gently folded them into his own. “You really have nothing to apologize for, but I’m happy to listen to whatever you feel you need to say.”
She graced him with a grateful smile and then drew a deep breath before beginning, thankful for his willingness to listen, and then braced herself to share her biggest, darkest secret. “I don’t want to go into a very long story so I’m just going to say it. For many years I was in an abusive marriage and the consequence of that relationship was a miscarriage caused by my husband. He messed with my head for a really long time. And I didn’t realize how truly messed up I was until you came into my life. When you said that you would be having a baby in your life my knee-jerk reaction was to put as much distance as possible between me and that child. But when I stopped to think about it, I realized that wasn’t how I felt at all. A child is a blessing no matter how it is conceived and if you are ready to embrace fatherhood then you deserve someone who will embrace it with you. I didn’t think I deserved to be that person, and that’s why I said what I did.”
“Why would you blame yourself for something that someone else did? You didn’t ask to be abused. I would never blame you for something like that.”
“Remember when I told you that I was looking to put my house on the market? Well, I’m selling because my husband died in that house and I’m tired of running into his ghost every time I turn around. I’m ready to make a fresh start and I can’t wait to unload that giant monstrosity. I never liked it from the start. Everything about that house reflected David’s style, not mine.”
“Is that why we couldn’t make love in your bedroom?”
Heat flooded her cheeks, but she nodded. “Yes. David messed with my head in a million different ways and as much as I hate it, he’s still in there sometimes. But I think I’m ready to make a change. And with that change I can finally let David go.”
“How did David die? If I may ask.”
Morgan closed her eyes briefly as the scene flashed in her memory. How many times had she relived that night? Too many to count. The funny part was, as horrific as the night was, when she envisioned it she never wished for a different outcome. That was perhaps where the guilt came in. “David was very particular in the way he wanted his house to look. The bathrooms had to be scrubbed twice daily with fresh linens always available. He lived with some sort of phobia that people would judge him if his house wasn’t perfect. Which meant that it was my job to make sure that everything remained as pristine as possible. I had to ensure the right wines were always available at a moment’s notice and of course, the right food to accompany and complement the wine so that everyone always saw David and me as the consummate hosts. On the night that I miscarried, David had lost his temper over a tiny drop of soap that I’d somehow missed when I did my second cleaning for the day. He threw me down and kicked me in the stomach so hard that I miscarried.”
“What a rotten son of a bitch,” Wade growled, his fist actually tightening. “If he were alive I’d punch him in the face.”
Morgan smiled at Wade’s show of chivalry but she had to get through this before she lost her nerve. “The night he died I was trying to get away from him. He was going to beat me because I’d forgotten to pick up his dry cleaning. It’d been a terrible day at the office with a suicide attempt, and I’d been emotionally exhausted by the time I got home. But none of that mattered. He was enraged because it was his favorite suit and he’d planned to wear it the next day for a business meeting. He told me that I had purposefully set out to humiliate him and that he had to teach me a lesson. I ran but just as I reached the top of the stairs he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back. But something inside of me snapped. I started kicking and screaming and fighting back. He tried to drag me back into the bedroom but I wasn’t going to let him. Somehow he got turned around and the next thing I knew he lost his balance and he went tumbling down the stairs. I heard his neck snap and he died instantly.”
“Was there an investigation?” he asked.
She shook her head. “There was no reason to doubt my word. There were no marks on David that weren’t supported by a fall down the stairs. It was chalked up to a tragic accident. But ever since his death, I’ve had to wear this mask so that no one questioned what had seemed like a perfect life. My practice depended on everyone believing the lies that David and I had created. But I think it did more damage to me than I ever could’ve realized by keeping up the charade. I’d been keeping people at arm’s length for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to want more. And I definitely want more, Wade.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I want more with you.”
For a long moment Wade just held her gaze, and fear began to creep into her thoughts—did he think she was some kind of murderer? Was he second-guessing his feelings for her?—but she need not have worried. He clasped her hands more tightly and said, “I’m humbled that you would share such a painful chapter in your life with me. You don’t have to wear the mask anymore with me. I promise to keep your secrets for as long as you want me to. I can’t begin to understand why I feel the way I do with you. All I know is that when I’m with you, I feel complete and I never realized until I was with you that I was actually missing something. I’ve fallen deeply, irrevocably and utterly in love with you, Morgan O’Hare, and I want to know what we should do about it.”
Tears sparked in her eyes and for a moment she couldn’t speak. Her throat closed with the sweetest emo
tion that she’d ever known and all she could do was nod because she felt the same. Irrevocably and utterly. “Ditto,” she managed to whisper, and he gathered her in his arms to hold her tightly. “I’m ready to make a fresh start. I swear it. I’ll follow wherever you go.”
“Are you sure? Your practice is here. Your family is here.”
“I’m ready to make a new life elsewhere. There are too many people whom I have to pretend with here. I’m actually looking forward to going someplace where nobody ever knew me as David’s wife.”
Wade nodded in understanding and pressed a soft kiss to her lips as he said, “Then would you do me the honor of moving with me to California while we figure this stuff out? I live in a small cottage in a national forest. It has one bathroom and not nearly enough closet space but it has the most glorious view of every sunrise and sunset.”
Her voice broke as she nodded. “Sounds perfect. Yes...yes to everything. As long as I’m with you, everything else is just window dressing.”
And then he really kissed her, pouring all the love and emotion from his heart into a song without words. But no words were needed. They’d said what needed to be said, and they knew that they would always be stronger together rather than apart. She knew it wouldn’t be easy—she still had issues to work through, and he had baby-mama drama to figure out—but for the first time in a very long time she was excited for the future.
A future with Wade Sinclair—and whatever that may bring.
EPILOGUE
FOR THE FIRST time in eight years, the entire Sinclair clan was crowded into their parents’ home for a final dinner before Wade boarded a plane for California in the morning. On the menu, Wade’s favorite—his mama’s halibut and wild rice.
“This is exquisite, Mrs. Sinclair,” Morgan said, openly delighting in his mother’s cooking. “I’ve never been a huge fan of fish until now. This is amazing, truly.”
A welcoming smile wreathed Jennelle’s face as she said, “Situations have changed and it’s time that you call me Jennelle. No more Mrs. Sinclair. You’re no longer my doctor and if my son has his way, you’re going to be the next Mrs. Sinclair in this family. Am I right?” She sent a meaningful glance Wade’s way, and he nodded, causing Morgan to flush prettily. He hadn’t asked her yet but it was on his mind, and the only reason he hadn’t done so was because he didn’t want her to feel pressured. But there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted her for his wife.
“Uncle Wade, are you coming to my mom’s wedding?” Talen asked around a hot bite. “I’m going to be the best man.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, buddy,” he assured his nephew then looked to Jeremiah. “Are you ready to jump feetfirst into this crazy family?” he teased. “It’s kind of like being in a gang. Once you’re in, you’re in for life.”
“Sounds good to me. I can’t wait to marry Miranda,” he said with a warm smile, which his sister returned.
Wade turned to Trace and Delainey. “No regrets for not having a big wedding?”
“None at all,” Delainey assured Wade, actually shuddering at the idea of a lavish affair. “I don’t think I could handle everyone staring at me. Besides, I wasted too much time caring about all the wrong things, and I’m done with that.” She shared a sweet look with Trace and added, “Plus we’re too busy focusing on other things...right, babe?”
Trace answered with a mischievous smile that spoke volumes, and Wade was willing to put money on the possibility that Jennelle would have her pitter-patter of little Sinclair feet before too long.
Talk flowed easily around the table as the evening wore on, and Wade knew it was going to be hard to board that plane tomorrow morning, especially since Morgan was staying behind to close up her practice in Homer and prepare to make the move to California, but he knew this wasn’t the end. Things had changed. There was a palpable difference between his parents and his siblings and the air was no longer heavy with tension.
Zed was determined to carve again and thus resume a legitimate trade for his income, and Jennelle was committed to sticking with her therapy, even though, in her words, her new therapist had a funny smile and his eyes were too close together, and she was fairly certain he was squinting at her in an odd fashion. However, as part of Jennelle’s therapy, she was also committing to sessions to help heal her relationship with Miranda, and Wade thought that was an excellent idea.
They’d all managed to finally let Simone go and rest in peace. They didn’t have the answers—they might never know why Simone had died or who had taken her life that fateful night—but the questions no longer held them hostage. They were ready to move forward—all of them.
Rest in peace, Simone. Life in the Sinclair household had been on hold for long enough. Time to live.
And that’s exactly what he was going to do.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from A PERFECT TRADE by Anna Sugden.
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CHAPTER ONE
“THE TOWN OF Elmside is tonight mourning the passing of one of their beloved and most popular figures, Pastor Douglas Boult.”
The newscaster’s words made the laughter die in Jenny Martin’s throat. Her mind froze, abandoning the celebrity gossip she’d been sharing with her friend Maggie. Her coffee cup dropped from her nerveless fingers as she spun to look across the Ice Cats’ family room toward the large flat-screen television. She barely noticed the hot, wet patch on her black jeans; her attention was focused on the photograph of the smiling, white-haired man that now filled the screen.
The smiling face of evil.
Bile churned her stomach as the newscaster read tributes from local dignitaries.
“...Pillar of the community...champion of youth programs...a spiritual leader...”
“Are you all right?” Maggie laid her hand on Jenny’s arm. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A specter from her past, more like. “I’m fine.”
Her murmured words lacked conviction, but she couldn’t explain. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“Use these, Jenny.” Maggie’s daughter, Emily, thrust a paper napkin at her.
When Jenny looked uncomprehendingly at the little girl, Emily pointed at the damp patch, then began rubbing at the stain herself. After a moment, Jenny took over, making a few halfhearted swipes, before tossing the crumpled napkin in the trash. “Thanks, Em.” Putting words together was an effort. “Great job.”
“All right. What’s going on?” Concern darkened Maggie’s eyes.
“I’m okay.” Jenny wanted to plead with her friend not to press, but couldn’t form the words. Then her cell phone started to play “Dancing Queen.”
Her sister. Saved by the bell. Sort of. “I have to take this. I’ll be outside.”
As Jenny crossed the room she felt Maggie’s worried gaze on her back. Once outside in the lower concourse, the backstage of the Ice Cats Arena, Jenny answered her phone.
“Have you seen the news?” Lizzie asked without greeting.
Jenny nodded, then realized she needed to speak. “Yes.”
“Do you need me to come home?”
“No.” The word erupted from her; desperate, urgent. She forced herself to sound calm. “You have classes.” She
swallowed hard. “I’m fine.”
She had to be.
“Are you sure? I’m only a few hours away. College isn’t like school—I won’t get detention for missing a few seminars.”
“Really, Lizzie, I’ll be okay.”
“But people will want to speak to you about him. Even though we haven’t been part of Uncle Douglas’s life for over a decade, someone will make the connection and want a quote or something.”
Her sister was right. Everyone in their parish knew that Douglas Boult had become Jenny and Lizzie’s guardian following their parents’ deaths in an accident. It wouldn’t take much digging for the media to unearth the records.
“If that happens I won’t say anything more than ‘no comment’ and I don’t want you to, either.”
“Not even to set the record straight? It makes me sick. They’re talking about him like he was a saint. They need to know what kind of monster he was.”
“Please, Lizzie.” Jenny couldn’t bear the thought of people knowing what he’d done to her. Her shame was enough of a burden. “He can’t harm me anymore. Let the past be buried with him.”
“But he doesn’t deserve to be put up on a pedestal. The man was a sexual predator.”
“I know what he was.” Better than anyone. Her voice was soft, but firm.
She had never shared the full extent of her uncle’s abuse. Not even with her sister, who knew what Jenny had suffered to protect her. In fact, Jenny had only ever trusted two other people enough to tell them part of the story and one of those—her boyfriend at the time—had been a huge mistake.
Pain sliced through her; the memory of his betrayal, as fresh and sharp as if it had happened last night, rather than thirteen years ago.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” Her sister’s words trailed off.