Leigh

by Lyn Cote

The car purred away, and they rode in silence for a block. Roman gazed out the window, not looking toward her. “I know all ’bout you. I know my grandson intended you to be his wife. When he died, I made it my job to watch over you. I kept track of you all these years.”

  The idea surprised her. She turned a little more toward him. This man had been watching over her? Like a fairy godmother?

  “I know your little girl isn’t Dane’s.” He grimaced as if this bothered him. “It was too many months later that she was born. But Dane loved you, and I failed him. I had to make that right.”

  Leigh felt like this was an improvisation that she’d been sucked into without warning. But all she really cared about was simple. “Who took my baby?”

  “Funny you should ask,” Roman said dryly.

  The car slowed; the door opened, and Trent Kinnard slid into the backseat.

  “You!” Leigh gasped and made a move to get out past Trent. But he caught her arm.

  “Don’t, Leigh. We need to talk.”

  “I said all I needed to say to you ten years ago,” Leigh blazed. “What does this mean?” A horrifying thought nearly gagged her. “You? You took Carly?”

  “Miss Sinclair, calm down.” The older man touched her arm. “Take it slow. There are things you need to hear, to understand. I won’t stretch this out a minute longer than I need to. I understand you not wanting to talk to this jerk. I don’t like him, either.”

  Leigh sat back, moving closer to Roman. Trent was as handsome and well-dressed as ever, though he was completely silver now, looking like an aging aristocrat.

  “What have you told her?” Trent asked, rubbing his hands together like Lady Macbeth.

  “Not much. She just asked me who kidnapped her baby. And I’m going to tell her.” Roman directed his attention to Leigh. “Now this is a twisted story. I know all about this father—” He nodded toward Trent. “—of your child. When you come up pregnant, I had someone look into it. Trent Kinnard was the only man you were close to that year after Dane—”

  “I made a mistake, a bad one.” She cast a glare at Trent.

  “Yeah, you did, but when your heart is broken, you do dumb things.” He shrugged. “And you didn’t understand that every man wasn’t like Dane or your stepfather, that FBI agent that rescued my grandson all those years ago. Another debt I owed and needed to repay.”

  “ And I didn’t understand that there were women who actually gave their hearts instead of selling them,” Trent muttered, looking down, still rubbing his hands together.

  Leigh began to feel as if she’d been tricked into doing a scene for a Godfather sequel—the car, the way the man talked, the way he dressed. Was this for real? Trent was real. And she remembered Dane saying that she didn’t know about his family. Now that statement made sense. But Dane had been gone a decade. “Who took Carly?”

  Roman pointed a thumb at Trent. “A guy that didn’t like Trent Kinnard digging into his business.”

  “I’m sorry, Leigh,” Trent insisted, pleaded, “I’ve never told anyone about Carly being my child—”

  “But Kinnard set up a half-million-dollar trust fund for your little girl, his only daughter.” Roman grinned. “It was the right thing to do. But that guy—the one who didn’t like Kinnard—was digging for a way to stop Kinnard, and he found out about the trust fund. He put two and two together and decided kidnapping Carly would clip Kinnard’s ‘Attorney General of Maryland’ wings, force an end to the investigation into his dirty business.”

  “How did you find that out?” she asked, staring at Roman, her mouth open.

  “I told you I keep tabs on you, and when Carly came up missing, I did my own digging. I found the man responsible for taking your girl. And I made him give her back.”

  The satisfied tone made her tremble for the man who’d taken Carly. What kind of man was Roman? Was he really what he appeared to be, a ruthless and powerful man?

  “That guy won’t be bothering you again. I took care of him,” Roman said offhandedly. “I wasn’t able to rescue my grandson all those years ago. But I was able to get your little girl back for you.”

  Leigh sat back, stunned by all the information that had just poured forth from Roman’s lips. Had it really happened the way he’d just told her? A trust fund for Carly? A man trying to get at Trent?

  “It’s the truth, Leigh,” Trent said, leaning forward. “I’m sorry I put Carly in danger. I thought I’d buried that trust fund deep enough that no one but my lawyer knew about it.”

  “There’s always somebody who’ll talk if the pot’s sweet enough,” Roman said, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. “But neither of you has to worry about the future. No one is going to make the same mistake twice. I made sure of that.”

  His tone chilled Leigh. She didn’t want to know how he’d made sure of it. Still, he’d rescued Carly. She laid her hand over his. “Thank you. I can never—”

  He waved his hand, dislodging hers. “You don’t need to thank me. I owed Dane, and I was finally able to pay my debt. I let his mother marry a zero with a gambling habit. He nearly got Dane killed. If it hadn’t been for your stepdad, he would have. And see, now I paid that debt off, too. So I’m sorry your little girl had to go through that, but now my conscience is clear. I’m an old man, and I thought I might die before I could pay what I owed. Now everything’s settled.” He sounded completely satisfied.

  Leigh touched his hand again. Here was someone who’d known and loved Dane, too. “I loved Dane with all my heart. I wish that Carly were his child, and then I would have kept part of him with me. I still grieve for him at times.”

  Roman squeezed her hand. “I know,” he said gruffly. “You’re a good woman—too good for this jerk.” He nodded toward Trent. “You just made a mistake. Everyone gets to make a mistake. I’ve made a lotta them.”

  “And so have I,” Trent agreed. “Leigh, isn’t there any chance for us? I found out that a marriage based on a business arrangement is doomed. I’m a free man now. We could start fresh.”

  *

  After Roman dropped Leigh back at the curb, she headed down the remaining few blocks to work. Mary Beth was waiting for Leigh in her office at Women Today.Leigh plopped down on the chair behind her desk and stared at Mary Beth, who looked very much out of place in her simple skirt and blouse. Was today going to be like that—just one surprise after another? Was her life never going to get back to normal?

  “I won’t stay long,” Mary Beth stated. Telephones rang in and indistinct voices chattered in the background. “I just wanted to see you today. Everything happened so fast after we met again. I wanted to tell you again how much I regret how we parted—”

  Leigh waved her hand. “Mary Beth, I’ve forgotten all about it. I just wished you’d contacted me years ago. You don’t know how many times I’ve wondered where you were. If you were even still alive—”

  “I know.” Her friend gazed down at her ample lap. “I was ashamed of myself. I’d done things… well, I don’t mean to burden you with how low I went before I was willing to surrender my will to God. But I’d sunk about as low as a person can and still be recognized as human.” She looked up. “Maybe that’s why I sense your guilt over Carly. Things aren’t right between you and your daughter. Make it right, Leigh. Tell her the truth. And then forgiveness can begin.”

  Leigh’s throat tightened, and she couldn’t speak.

  “The truth will set you both free.” Mary Beth got up, kissed Leigh’s cheek, and left the office without another word.

  “I can’t believe you got into a limo with a strange man,” Nate repeated, looking at her as if she had soft macaroni for brains. It was late at night, though the scent of Carly’s favorite pizza they’d eaten for supper still hung in the air. After her first day back at school, Carly was sound asleep, and he and Leigh were side by side on her sofa. He was going to get all the facts, and then Leigh was going to get the scolding of her life—even though being here with her was the nearest thing to heav
en he’d ever felt. “Carly gets snatched, and you don’t see that—”

  Leigh’s delicate hand covered Nate’s mouth for a few moments. “I recognized him as Dane’s grandfather.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  She put her hand over his mouth again. “Nothing happened to me.”

  Nate grumbled to himself. He had a pretty good idea of who Roman was, but he wasn’t going to tell Leigh what he knew. Some things were better left unsaid. But who would have thought that a straight arrow like Dane Hanley had come from a crime family?

  He kissed Leigh’s palm, and she lifted it from his mouth. “Well, at least, now we know what happened and why.”

  Leigh nodded. “There was another man in the car.”

  He moved a few inches closer to her, his desire to scold her melting. “A bodyguard?”

  “No,” Leigh said, looking him directly in the eye, “Carly’s father.”

  He felt his mouth go dry. “He was there. Why?”

  Leigh shrugged. “I think Roman brought him because he wanted to see him humiliated.”

  Nate sat up straighten “I don’t get you.”

  “Dane’s grandfather has evidently been keeping tabs on me for over a decade. He knew or guessed that if he brought Carly’s father along, he would take this opportunity to try to get me to come back to him and Roman bet that I would refuse. I don’t make the same mistake twice. He wanted to see the attorney general of Maryland shot down—”

  “Carly’s father is the attorney general of Maryland?” Nate asked in total disbelief.

  She nodded. “Please keep that in confidence.” She folded her fingers over his. “Anyway, I think Roman wanted to see Dane’s fiancee put Trent Kinnard down, prove that his grandson was the better man.”

  “That sounds way too convoluted—”

  “I was there. I saw the body language and heard the tones, the inflections of his voice. I’m sure of it.”

  “So you turned Kinnard down?” His spirit lightened.

  She nodded.

  “Going to turn me down?”

  Her head swung around and her eyes met his.

  “I’m here for good, you know.” He traced her lips with his forefinger. “I keep thinking about the fact that I came here the night Carly was born. That I saw her before she was even an hour old. I feel attached to her already. It feels like I’ve just been marking time until I found you and her again. And I’m not bowing out of your lives unless you get a court order.”

  Unwilling to be swayed by his words, she still pressed her lips together and tugged away. “I’m not good… with men—”

  “You’ve had a rough time, but that time is over.” With his right hand, he lifted her golden hair over one ear and watched it flutter down again like spun gold. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Leigh Sinclair. And that’s that.”

  “I can’t give you what you want, Nate.” She sounded tight inside.

  “And what do I want—” He lifted her hair again. As it drifted back to her shoulders, he watched it gleam in the low light. “—except for you?”

  “I’m just not the loving-wife type.” She turned her profile to him and tried to move away from his hand sifting her hair.

  “You’re fooling yourself if you believe that. And what’s a loving-wife type?” He moved closer, his mouth hovering over hers. “Do you think I expect to come home to fresh-baked bread and slippers? Get real. I love you, Leigh. Deal with it.” Then he bent his head and claimed her soft lips, marking her as his own.

  Feeling the warmth spread through her, Leigh wanted to believe him, wanted to be persuaded, but it didn’t feel real. I’m thirty-six years old, and I’ve never won at love before. How can I believe it would ever happen now? Don’t love me, Nate. I’m bad with men—either they leave me or they die.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  December 10, 1983

  At the centuries-old cemetery, Leigh stood in bitter, blustery wind. Icy sunlight dazzling her, she’d slipped on her sunglasses. Nate had his arm around her, keeping her close. The priest was pronouncing the final benediction at the graveside of Nate’s grandfather. It was a policeman’s funeral. Legions of retired and active policemen in blue and braid had come out to honor this ex-cop who’d walked his beat back through the Roaring Twenties, the Depression, World War II, and on past Korea.

  Then bagpipes began to play “Amazing Grace.” The plaintive melody caught Leigh around the heart and she couldn’t have moved if she’d tried. Had Nate’s grandfather requested it just as her grandfather had?

  In 1972, Minnie had sung this at both funerals, her grandfather’s and the double one for Ted and Dane. But it was as if Leigh were hearing the words for the first time. In her mind, she heard once more Minnie lifting her rich contralto voice, “… that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost hut now I’mfound. Was blind but now I see.”And then it was as if Grandpa Roarke, Ted, and Dane were there, hovering close, enfolding her in their love—their abiding love for her that hadn’t ended with their deaths.

  Remorse, gratitude, hope swelled inside her. She clung to Nate, fearing that the power of these surging emotions would sweep her from her feet. Something hovered at the back of her consciousness. What had Grandma Chloe said to her after Dane’s death—something that Leigh should never forget?

  She closed her eyes, and it started to return. Chloe had told Leigh that God loved her just she was, an imperfect human. That sounded good, but how did one make up for being fallible? Her life hadn’t gone the way she’d planned. And after committing adultery and in effect cursing her child, how could Leigh ever make things right? Carly was back with her, but only in body, not spirit. How could she close that hollow space between them?

  In her suddenly sharpened memory, Minnie continued to sing along with the bagpipes, “Through many trials, toils, and fears, I have already come. ’Twas grace that brought me safe this far, and grace will lead me home.”

  God, I’ve sought Your forgiveness, Your grace all these years without realizing it. What do I have to do to get it? I can’t begin again until I put the past, my sin behind me. I can’t reach Carly until I’ve made things right.

  Sudden warmth filled her, driving away the chill. Her mind had never been clearer. Grandma Chloe’s voice whispered in her mind, “Lay down your pride that insists you can do this life without God’s forgiveness. ”

  Mary Beth’s voice whispered, “Just tell the truth. It will set you free.”

  Nate’s defiant words came back, “I love you, Leigh. Deal with it.”

  Leigh couldn’t hold out any longer. Suddenly she realized that she was the stumbling block, the dam that was holding everything back. I give up, God,she acknowledged silently. I accept that I can’t make You forgive me; I can only accept Your grace. I’ll tell Carly the truth about her father.

  Then she turned into Nate’s embrace and hugged him so tightly she felt his uniform’s buttons pressing into her. The crescendo of the song lifted above her, “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we first begun.”

  “I love you, Nate Gallagher,” she whispered into his ear, relief washing through her like a baptism.

  He looked down and kissed her cheek. “I know.” And then he grinned.

  HISTORICAL NOTE

  Writing Leigh was difficult for me. Leigh Sinclair was only a few years older than I, so her youth and coming of age was mine too. The thought of writing a “historical” novel around my own generation jarred me. But once I got into it, I found that bringing up realistic details from my own past instead of from history books paid an unexpected dividend. I recalled things I had forgotten. And Leigh gave me a chance to revisit the turbulent times of my youth.

  I recalled the Cold War, the fearful days of the Cuban Missile Crisis and the very real anxiety of a nuclear holocaust, so very different from today’s worries of “dirty” bombs and terrorism. I recalled awakening to the news that Robert Kennedy had bee
n killed and wondering when the assassinations would stop—or if they ever would. I recalled the violent transition from segregation to racial integration, the trauma of Viet Nam and of Watergate.

  I remember ladies wearing hats and gloves to church on Sundays when all the stores were closed and families got together over “Sunday dinner” and a quiet afternoon. I remember wearing a skirt every day—not just for special occasions—and wearing a girdle with hooks to hold up nylon hose with seams. I remember the advent of pantyhose and bra-burning and much, much more. My generation rebelled against the World War II generation, very much matching the “Lost Generation” of the Roaring Twenties. Chloe said it best: “It seems like in America, we have these times that come through like gangbusters, ripping things apart, and what’s been accepted for decades and decades changes overnight.” That was the sixties and seventies. Those were the days, my friends.

  READING GROUP GUIDE

  1. What historic events, if any, have impacted your life? In what way? And what were the consequences?

  2. How have the years changed popular opinion about the Viet Nam War? Or have they?

  3. Leigh makes a life-altering choice the night of McGovern’s defeat. Can you find parallels to this in the Bible? In history or your own life?

  4. What do you think are the causes of the conflict between Leigh and Bette? What advice would you have given Leigh? Bette? Does heredity play any part in their personalities? If so, how?

  5. Leigh’s response to her little daughter’s questions about her daddy was pained silence. Was she right or wrong? How would you have handled it?

  6. Did Kitty’s story surprise you? What led her into an affair and out of it?

  7. Do you see any parallels among the lives of Chloe, Bette, and Leigh? Explain.

  8. Of the three generations of women, who seems to have found the greatest peace? Why do you think this is so?

  9. Nate visited Leigh’s apartment the night Carly was born. Have you ever experienced a similar “coincidence” in your life? Or do you know of a real-life example that happened to someone you know?