by Peggy Webb
“Thank God you didn’t.”
“Thank God I didn’t?”
“Yes. If you’d made this generous offer at O’Banyon Manor I’d have…screamed.”
“But, Sandi, be rational.”
“You make me so mad. If I weren’t such a lady I’d say an awful word. I’d slap you.”
A big man riled is an awesome sight. Matt came out of his chair more tornado than man.
“You are the most unreasonable woman I’ve ever met. Look, Sandi, I know I must have sounded cold, but I’m only trying to be practical.”
“You go on and be practical all by yourself, Matt. Forget about me, forget you ever saw me.”
“That will be impossible to do.” His gaze made her hot all over.
Oh, she wanted to believe that was true. She wanted to believe that he would lie sleepless in his bed, filled with the same love and wanting as she. She wanted to believe that memories would ambush him every day, that he would go to the kitchen for water then forget why he’d gone, that he would lose his train of thought in the midst of dictating important documents…even in the midst of ordinary conversation.
She was being a silly dreamer. It was time to face reality and get on with her life.
She took one last look at the man she loved, studied him with an artist’s eye, imprinted every feature on her mind, seared every detail into her soul. Then she stood up and walked to the door.
“I’m sorry you made this long trip for nothing, Matt.”
“Sandi…”
She waited, breathless. It’s not too late, Matt. One word of hope and I’m your slave forever.
For a moment she thought he was going to say something important and wonderful, life-changing. Then he’d kiss her…
“Here’s my number in case you ever need me.” He handed her his business card.
“I won’t need you, Matt.”
He looked as if he was going to argue, but when she lifted her chin up, proud and stubborn, he walked past her and out the door. She closed it quickly. She couldn’t bear to see him drive away, couldn’t endure thinking that she’d never see Matt Coltrane again.
A hurting sound ripped through her and she slumped against the door, hand over her mouth. She stayed that way until the awful sounds stopped, until there was nothing in the small apartment except silence and leftover pain.
“I need you, Matt,” she whispered. “I’ll always need you.”
Chapter Ten
“That didn’t go well,” Matt said as if he had an audience, somebody interested in his comings and goings, somebody who cared that five minutes ago he’d made a complete ass of himself in Starkville, Mississippi.
But only two people knew: the wonderful woman who by now was trying to forget she’d ever heard of him and Matt himself who was driving blindly toward Shady Grove as if his life depended on getting there within the hour, saying goodbye to his family then heading home to Jackson.
And probably it did. He needed routine. He needed safety. As mind-deadening and boring as it sounded to most folks, Matt thrived on a life without surprise. At the moment he didn’t care if he never had another unexpected experience as long as he lived.
In fact, if he didn’t know there would be backlogged cases stacked a mile high waiting on his desk, he’d probably hole up for a few days till he could learn to breathe again. Ever since Sandi Wentworth breezed into his life, he’d found himself sighing and groaning and laboring over what used to be a natural occurrence.
Even more important, he had to regain control. Thinking of how he’d lost it with Sandi, not merely once but repeatedly, Matt groaned. The unforeseen development he’d tried to discuss with her was a very real possibility. He’d never done anything that irresponsible. What had he been thinking?
Obviously, he hadn’t. He was no longer capable of rational thought.
He had to get hold of himself. Preferably before he reached Shady Grove. Matt pulled over at the first motel he saw and checked in. Maybe tomorrow he’d be better able to face his family.
“How did it go?” C.J. asked. Clint had kissed them good-night, then slipped into bed so they could have some time alone. They sat cross-legged on the sofa sharing a big bowl of popcorn.
“Awful. I’m never going to see him again.”
“But you want to.”
“How can you tell?”
“I just can, that’s all.”
Of course she could. That’s what friends did. Read minds and offered shoulders to cry on.
Sandi sighed. “He offered to pay me off in case I’m pregnant.”
“Is that a possibility?”
For a moment Sandi got lost in delicious memories, and when she said yes, there were stars of hope in her eyes.
“Oh, C.J. Wouldn’t it be wonderful?”
“It would be complicated, considering.”
“You’re right. I’ve got to quit fantasizing.” She reached for a handful of popcorn, then munched awhile. “And I’m trying, really I am.”
C.J. squeezed her hand. “You’re doing fine, Sandi. We’re here for you, and Sam and Ellie live right next door to you.”
“I’m thinking of selling that house.”
“Selling?”
“Yes, it’s never been mine, not really. Grandmother’s stamp is so strong I never felt I had the right to change anything.”
“Well, good for you. I’m glad you’re going to get rid of it. You can start fresh somewhere else. You can move down here and take an apartment close to Clint and me. That way you’ll be here to help us build our dream house.”
“Maybe I will. I don’t know. First thing, though, is to go home and put the house on the market. Then I have to finish Lucy’s portrait, and after that I’m going to China.”
“You have an art show in China?”
“No, I’m going there to adopt a baby.”
When Matt arrived midmorning there were so many vehicles parked around O’Banyon Manor, he became alarmed till he saw some of the logos. Van’s Florist, Whitfield Caterers, Entertainment, Inc.
Lucy met him at the door. “Darling, you’re back just in time.”
“Mother, what’s going on?”
“I’m getting ready for a party.”
“What kind of party?”
“Who needs a reason to have a party, Matt? Call it anything you like. The I’m-not-dying party, the Ben-is-home party.”
“Ben’s back?”
“Yes.” Lucy’s cheeks were as pink as a girl’s.
Matt studied his mother with newly aware eyes, but didn’t say anything because quite frankly he didn’t know what to say. He was the last person in the world to comment about matters of the heart, and from the looks of things, Lucy was involved in a matter of the heart.
“Where’s Ben?” is all he said, and she flushed again.
“In the garden talking to the caterer.”
Ben separated himself from the caterer when he saw Matt coming.
“Matt…” He extended his hand. “I owe you an apology and an explanation.”
“An explanation will do.”
“Lucy really did think she’d had a heart attack, and she was too embarrassed to admit her mistake.”
“That sounds exactly like Mother.”
“You know the rest of the story.”
“Yes, except your part in it.”
It was hard for Matt to reconcile Ben’s complicity in his mother’s foolish plan with the dependable, honest, steady man.
“Yes, I can see how that would puzzle you.” Ben pulled off his glasses and polished them with a pristine handkerchief he pulled out of his pants pocket. “I can never refuse anything Lucy asks of me.” He put his glasses back on and looked Matt squarely in the eye. “I’ve been in love with your mother for years. Long before Henry Coltrane came along and fed her a line of bull.”
Matt appraised the older man in the unforgiving light of a bright summer’s day. He had a full head of hair, dark brown with gray streaks that looked silver in
the sun. Dark, intelligent eyes that missed nothing. A wide and ready smile. Body tanned and fit.
Altogether he was quite an impressive figure. He could see how Ben might turn a woman’s head. But there was something else Matt knew about this old family friend: he was kind, compassionate and loyal, not at all the kind of man who would use his office as a playground for half the women in Shady Grove.
Matt could see how Lucy could love Ben and why it might work.
“You have my blessing,” he said.
“Thank you, Matt, but that’s a bit premature. Until Lucy admits what happened with Henry, there’s no room for me in her life.”
“Aunt Kitty knows. Probably Aunt Dolly and the rest of the Foxes.”
“I’m talking about you, Matt. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to come to you and say, ‘Look, son, you don’t have to carry this burden.’ She’s the only one who can do that. She’s the only one who can relieve you of it.”
“It’s over and done with. Might as well let sleeping dogs lie, isn’t that what they say?”
“They do.” He patted Matt’s shoulder. “But I never subscribed to collective wisdom.” Spotting Lucy in the garden, Ben smiled. “There she is. Have you ever seen a more wonderful woman?”
Matt had a sudden vision of Sandi, which he quickly shoved out of his mind.
“No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”
If Matt were female, folks would call him a wall-flower, but that was fine with him. He preferred standing in a quiet corner watching the party from afar.
Josh came through the French doors, backlit by Japanese lanterns the decorators had hung over the courtyard and a moon as big as Texas.
“I thought I’d find you in here.” He handed Matt a glass of wine, then straddled a chair facing him. “Do you want to talk about Sandi?”
“No.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve become pretty good at dispensing advice.”
“You were always good at that.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t always wise.”
Matt began to feel uncomfortable with his cousin, an entirely new sensation for him. He’d always been at ease no matter where he was, and especially with the lovable, easygoing Josh. Still, there was something about his cousin’s intense scrutiny that made Matt feel exposed and vulnerable.
“Aunt Kitty says you’re leaving tomorrow,” Matt said.
“Yep. How about you?”
“Same. I talked to my secretary today. The partners are going crazy taking up my slack.” He walked to the door and watched his mother dancing with Ben. In the moonlight, laughing, she looked like a young girl.
They’ll be good for each other, he thought, and then he didn’t let himself think about anything else. Not his father, not the past, not Sandi, not anything.
He turned back to Josh and said, “How about a game of billiards?”
Josh grinned. “It’s as good a way as any to make our escape,” he said.
In the basement with nothing but the sound of the pool cue snapping the balls and Josh’s deep voice turning parish stories into high comedy, Matt passed the time until he could make his final escape.
Back to the sanity of his law practice in Jackson.
Matt turned the page of his daily planner with some satisfaction. Another day gone by. And he’d only thought about Sandi Wentworth five times—when he’d woken up in his bed alone, when he’d passed a car that looked like hers on the way to work, when he’d had the bad luck to get a waitress at lunch with blond hair, when he’d made the mistake of glancing out his window at the sunset, and worst of all, when he’d been in the middle of talking to his partner Bob about the case against the hospital.
That had been embarrassing. No, humiliating. He’d been talking about the tort case and then he’d been struck dumb by a memory of Sandi on the sailboat.
“Matt?” Bob had said. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Just a touch of indigestion.”
“Yeah, I know. Chinese food will do that to you. All that MSG.”
Thank God Bob was a health-food nut. He’d launched into a windy lecture about food additives that had lasted until Matt could get himself together.
He placed his daily planner in the center of his desk where he’d see it first thing tomorrow, then picked up his briefcase and headed home. He’d warm a TV dinner in the microwave. No sense risking another waitress with golden hair. No sense driving through streets where three dozen cars like hers could sneak up on him and drive him crazy.
He ate his dinner that tasted like cardboard, watched a game show he hated and a movie he didn’t even know the title of, then brushed his teeth and climbed into his tidy bed. Nobody on the other side to hog the covers, no alluring perfume to steal his sleep, no soft body curved close to steal his senses.
“Two weeks down and a lifetime to go,” he said, then he stared at the clock while the neon hands mocked him.
Being caught up in a whirlwind didn’t give a girl time to think about her problems, which was fine with Sandi. In the eight weeks since she’d left O’Banyon Manor she had nearly finished Lucy’s portrait, put her house on the market, moved into the apartment next to C.J. and Clint and set the adoption of a Chinese girl into motion.
C.J. and Clint had a celebration party for her, and when Sandi asked, “For which big event?” C.J. said, “Take your pick.”
“Motherhood.”
“I thought so.”
Some of C.J.’s classmates in the vet school came, one of them a very interesting, studious-looking guy from Kentucky who kept trying to get Sandi off by herself.
“Buck’s a really nice guy,” C.J. told her when they caught a private moment in the kitchen. “And he loves children.”
“I know. I told him about my little girl, and he seemed genuinely thrilled for me.”
“Well?”
“He has a great smile, he’s thoughtful and he’s a good conversationalist.”
“But?”
“How did you know there was a but?”
“Because I know you, Sandi.”
“Okay, as foolish as it is, he’s not Matt.”
“I thought so.” C.J. put her glass on the table and caught Sandi’s hands. “Listen to me, sweetie. It’s okay to love a man who’s hard to catch. Lord knows, I thought Clint Garrett would never see the light.”
“But he did.”
“Yes, he did.”
“But Clint’s more…oh, I don’t know…laid-back than Matt. He has this great legal mind and he keeps trying to organize every event in his life into neat little files.”
“I’ll bet you blew his mind!”
Clint joined them in the kitchen. “You two are having more fun in here than all the rest of them put together.” He slid his arms around C.J. and nabbed a chocolate-dipped strawberry, which he promptly fed to his wife.
Jealousy stabbed Sandi, just a tiny bit, but still she was ashamed of herself. She was happy for C.J., she really was. And yet seeing her with an adoring husband set up an ache in Sandi that was almost physical.
All the empty spaces that Matt had once filled were suddenly screaming for attention. And maybe Buck could provide that.
But if Sandi went flying off in his direction simply because he was an available nice guy, then she was moving backward instead of forward. She was letting herself get caught up in old patterns that had always been her undoing.
Clint’s strawberry quickly led to kisses that needed some privacy, so Sandi told the lovebirds, “I’m going back to the party.”
They broke apart long enough for C.J. to say, “Have fun.”
“I will,” Sandi said. But not with Buck. No, when she joined the party, she spotted him beside C.J.’s potted palm looking hopeful, and she deliberately went in the other direction.
Matt’s secretary buzzed him in the middle of one of the most hectic days he could remember in about five years.
“It’s your mother.”
Lucy didn’t call at the office unl
ess she had some sort of emergency. He grabbed the phone.
“Mother, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, dear, I just wanted to invite you up for the weekend.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I called this morning?”
Since his return from taking care of his dying mother’s business, Matt had tried to pay more attention to Lucy. He called her every morning right after his coffee, and he made a point to visit at least once a month.
He’d been in Shady Grove a week ago and hadn’t planned on going back for at least two.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know this morning,” Lucy said, as if that made a lick of sense to Matt.
“You didn’t know what?”
“About Sandi coming. She’s finished my portrait and I invited her to stay for the whole weekend. She said yes.”
Matt’s heart did a funny trip-hammer flip-flop, but he wasn’t about to pay attention to anything as fickle and frivolous as the heart.
“That’s nice,” he said. “You two will enjoy each other’s company.”
“You’re not coming?”
“No, Mother. I’m not coming.”
“But I thought you’d want to. I mean…after all the fun we had the last time.”
“Fun!”
“I know it got a little out of hand, but still, you’d have to say that we had a lively time together and, believe it or not, those times are hard to come by. Not just everybody has the capacity for joy, but of course, Sandi, being an artist—”
“Mother, save your breath. I’m not coming.”
“Is that final?”
“It’s final.”
Lucy sighed. “Well, is there anything you want me to tell her?”
“Tell her…” What? How she’d ruined his ability to get a good night’s sleep? How she’d destroyed his concentration? “Nothing,” he said. “Don’t tell her anything.”
After their last time together, she probably wouldn’t even want to hear the mention of his name.
“Is Matt here?”
Those were the first words out of Sandi’s mouth, and fortunately she’d said them to the fun-loving, compassionate Lucy instead of the gardener or the maid or some perfect stranger who happened to answer the door.