A Season Of Miracles

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A Season Of Miracles Page 4

by Christine Michels


  “He’s a lawyer.” It was a statement, but he threw it out for confirmation sake

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Jack considered that but didn’t know what conclusions to draw

  Devon hugged herself against the chill and looked out at the night. “What do you do now?”

  “Pardon me?” He looked down at her in confusion.

  “For a living?” she clarified. “What do you do now?”

  “I manage the resort here.” He nodded in the direction of the lake

  “Oh” The silence stretched, and Jack wondered if she was somehow disappointed by his reply. But when she spoke again, she was on a different tack all together. “So, if you didn’t know me when I arrived on your doorstep, why did you let me in?”

  Jack shrugged. “You talked as though you knew me, and, for someone in my position, that alone was intriguing enough for me to want to hear more. I was a bit suspicious, too, though. I thought you might be a cop.”

  She frowned thoughtfully. “Because of the article about Spencer?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t really think they’d go to that extent to get him, but I couldn’t totally dismiss the possibility.”

  There was a long moment of silence as they stood together.

  Abruptly Devon spoke. “Geoff. .I’ve got a million questions, none of which I can put into words right now I feel like I’ve been dropped into a movie-of-the-week. I need to think about this for a while.” She turned and took a couple of steps away from him, then stopped as an afterthought gripped her Without turning, she said, “I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you, Geoff. You didn’t deserve that.” On that note she walked quickly away and reentered the house

  Jack stared after her, confused by the real emotion he’d heard in her voice.

  Did she still care for him? Did he want her to?

  He didn’t have time to analyze his own feelings more deeply before she reappeared with her purse over her shoulder. Alarm shot through him. She was the only link he had to a past that had eluded him; he couldn’t let her go. “Where are you going?” His tone was more confrontational than questioning and, the instant the words emerged, he wished he could recall them.

  She stopped in her tracks In the faint illumination spilling through the small sunburst window on the door, her eyes met his. Challenging. Determined. Wary The manner in which a woman might look at a stranger whose reactions she didn’t trust. Jack felt something clench in his gut. He ignored it. Clearing his throat, he tried a more conciliatory tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bark at you. This has been a bit much for me, too Won’t you stay? Please? I have questions, too. A lot of them.”

  She stared at him, a peculiar expression on her face as though for the first time tonight she truly did not recognize him. And then she shook her head. “I don’t think now is the right time, Geoff. I’m confused and tired and feeling a little—” she shrugged slightly as she searched for and found the right word “—raw. I need some sleep. Can you just give me directions to a good hotel?”

  His lips quirked at the absurdity of her question. “This is Northridge, Devon. We don’t have any classy accommodations. There’s only one hotel and it’s not exactly the kind of place I’d recommend for a woman. The best place in town is probably Eva Wright’s Bed-and-Breakfast, but you won’t be able to get in there this late.”

  Jack hadn’t been afraid of much for a very long time, but he was afraid to let this woman leave. If she walked out of here tonight, she could walk out of his life. Disappear as suddenly as she’d appeared. And he knew nothing about himself yet. He knew almost nothing of her. Or his family. And, despite her request for a divorce, he realized that deep down he harbored a small hope that maybe—if he and this woman could learn to care for each other again—maybe he dared dream of going home Maybe he dared dream of reclaiming his life in its entirety.

  “I have a guest room,” he said. “Why don’t you stay the night?”

  She considered him silently. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Geoff”

  “Why? It’s not as though people will be able to talk—we’re already married. Right?”

  The hint of a smile touched her lips for the first time, and then she shook her head. “I just don’t think I have the strength to try to make sense of this situation tonight ”

  He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “You can go straight to sleep if that’s what you want. We won’t talk tonight. I’ll take some time off tomorrow, and we can discuss everything then.” She had looked down as he talked, avoiding his gaze, and he stepped forward, lifting her chin with his finger, to look into her eyes They were wide, confused, and...vulnerable.

  He didn’t want to see that. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to open himself up, to trust her. So, mentally taking a step back, he clamped the lid on his emotions and smiled in a manner he hoped was reassuring. “Agreed?”

  She looked into his eyes for endless seconds as though searching for something. Finally, she nodded. “All right. I’ll need my case from the Jeep.”

  “Good.” Noting that a portion of her bangs still stood on end, he reached to smooth them down. A few of the fine strands clung to his calloused fingers and, as he struggled to arrange them without pulling, his knuckles brushed her temple. He was unprepared for the jolt of sensual awareness that transmitted itself from her soft warm skin. Like a lightning bolt, it shot through his body to center somewhere in the region of his groin, a hot, glowing coal of awareness. Tamping it down, he backed away. “If you’ll give me your keys, I’ll get your case.”

  A moment later he earned her suitcase up onto the veranda where she stood waiting. He wished now that he hadn’t made such a sweeping promise to avoid discussion. As he opened the cabin door and they reentered the house, he had to ask. “May I ask you just three questions, Devon?”

  A hint of apprehension entered her eyes, but she nodded.

  “What’s my full name?” He set down her case in the entrance and turned to close the door. “How old am I? And. .where did we live?”

  She smiled softly, relief evident in her expression despite the aura of strain that clung to her. “Your name is Geoffrey Hunter Grayson. You will be thirty-six years old this summer. Your birthday is July twelfth. And, we lived together in the house we designed in Kelowna. The kids and I still live there. I couldn’t bear to leave it.”

  “We designed?”

  Devon nodded “I’m an interior designer, and you always had a knack for design. A natural extension of your mother’s Italian passion and creative genius, I guess. She’s a wonderful artist, so you come by it honestly.”

  His chest felt suddenly tight. He had a past: a wife, kids, a home, a mother, and a career. He was somebody. It was the best Christmas present he could have received. “Thank you,” he murmured around the constriction in his throat.

  He glanced at the clock over the fireplace. One-thirty. Memory struck like an electric shock, ruining the moment. He was supposed to be picking up Marissa in fifteen minutes. Turning to Devon he said, “I’ll show you up to your room in just a second, all right? I just have to make a quick call to cancel a date ”

  Devon’s eyes widened. “Isn’t it kind of late for a date?”

  “She works in a bar,” he said by way of explanation.

  “Well, please don’t cancel on my account. I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

  Jack studied her. Was there a trace of tension in her voice? He was absurdly pleased by the idea that some part of her might actually be jealous, although there was no need. His friendship with Marissa was platonic; he simply enjoyed her company She was one of the few women in town who had befriended him without expectation. Then, deciding he must have imagined Devon’s reaction, he shook his head and responded, “No trouble.” Stepping into the living room, he reached for the phone.

  Though she’d turned away to afford him some privacy, her disinterest was only feigned for Devon found herself holding her breath and straining her ears as Geoff began t
o speak, apologizing to the woman on the other end of the phone. She had no right to be eavesdropping, yet she couldn’t have stopped if she’d been paid.

  She was inexplicably but undeniably relieved to discover that Geoff seemed more concerned about Marissa obtaining an alternate nde home than about missing their date Once that was taken care of, the conversation changed course. “Friday?” he said in his slightly grainy baritone. “Oh, damn, I forgot.” Leather creaked as he dropped down onto the cognac-colored leather sofa beside the phone. “I’m not sure that I’ll be able to make that either.

  “He did, did he?” Geoff asked in a tone that was almost teasing. A pause Then, “All right, why don’t you go with him then. If I do make it, we’ll have a dance.” Silence for the space of a few seconds and then, “Bye, Rissa.” There was a soft clunk as he replaced the receiver.

  He looked at Devon. “There, that’s taken care of. I’ll show you to your room now.” He lifted her case and crossed the room to the staircase.

  “Thanks,” Devon said as he deposited her case on the bed.

  He nodded and turned to leave the room. “Good night, Devon,” he said as he started to close the door and then he caught himself in midgesture. “Oh, if you need anything, just ask. And feel free to make yourself at home”

  Devon stood alone in the guest room, listening to Geoff’s footsteps as he moved downstairs. And then there was silence. She held her breath, almost afraid to move in the sudden stillness that enveloped the cabin Afraid to think or examine her feelings concerning the one-sided conversation on which she’d blatantly eavesdropped. Afraid that, despite her plans and intentions, she was going to be hurt all over again.

  The sound of the television coming on below released her from her paralysis

  Feeling strangely numb, and welcoming the desensitization for she suspected it protected her against feelings she wasn’t yet prepared to examine, Devon moved toward the window. Dripping evergreens draped in heavy wet snow blocked her view of the neighboring cabins, but to her left she had a good view of the lake The snow had stopped falling, and an enormous nearly full moon bathed the snow-blanketed ice in pristine radiance. Beyond the pine trees marking the edge of the property on the right, the lights of the town glowed in the distance. Northridge. And somewhere there, a woman for whom Geoff had feelings. Maybe not strong feelings, but feelings nonetheless. Had he slept with Marissa? she wondered.

  Sitting down, supporting her head on her hands, Devon leaned on the desk to stare thoughtfully from the bedroom window, her thoughts haunted by the nebulous image of a woman named Marissa.

  Who was she? What did she look like?

  A picture of Kim Basinger solidified in her mind and she thrust it away.

  She was surprised by the strength of the jealousy gnawing at her. Why should she care if Geoff was seeing another woman? She was in love with another man. Two years ago, when Geoff had disappeared, they’d already been on the verge of divorce. Or rather, she’d threatened him with it in the hope that it would force him to talk to her, to tell her why he’d grown so distant. For her to feel this way now just didn’t make sense. But the sentiment was there and she found herself incapable of reasoning it away. It seemed that time had not tempered her emotions. The idea of Geoff with another woman, kissing her, touching her, making love to her ..hurt enough to provoke thoughts of homicide.

  Her contemplation drove her from her chair and she began to pace the room The only illumination was that coming through the window from the moon, but it was enough. The cabin bedroom was simply furnished with a double bed, night table, dresser and phone desk, and could be easily negotiated in the semidarkness. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans, she asked herself for the hundredth time since learning of Geoff’s condition what her next move was. Nothing came to mind.

  What she wanted to do was escape. Go home and forget this entire incident. Forget that she’d ever seen him on television. Forget the unpredictable and illogical emotions that assailed her when she was near him. She wanted to forget him and marry David

  But, she wasn’t a quitter; she never had been. And she’d invested too much emotion already to just give up and go home. She had to talk to Geoff, discuss the situation rationally, and arrive at a course of action that would satisfy both of them, allowing him to reclaim his old life, if that was truly what he wanted, while granting her and their children a sense of security that had been sadly lacking lately.

  But, if this new strange Geoff was interested in her as part of the life he wanted to reclaim, he was going to be disappointed. No matter how attractive she still found him, she’d be damned if she’d simply take him back into her life as though the last twenty-eight months—and the difficult months before that—had never happened. She had David in her life now And, she still didn’t understand what had torn Geoff and her apart in the first place.

  Something had pulled Geoff away from her, from their family, during their last six months together, and that something had all but destroyed their marriage. Whatever it was, only Geoff knew, or had known.

  And yet, he seemed to want to be part of her life again. That was something she couldn’t chance.

  Without knowing what had been at the root of their difficulties, she wouldn’t be willing to risk her heart again, or her children’s fragile sense of security. Eventually Geoff would remember whatever problem had so preoccupied him, and it would wrench them apart again, putting them right back where they’d started. She didn’t think she had the strength to fight all those battles again.

  The stairs creaked slightly and she turned toward the door, listening to the sound of Geoff climbing the stairs. Shaking free the fetters of reason, her imagination took flight. He would stop at her door under some pretext or other. She would answer his soft knock, opening the door to him. Then, they would stare at each other wordlessly, as they had so many times in the past. In a single long gaze, they would communicate all their needs and wants, their desires and love. .. Love?

  Oh, Lord. Devon’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t still love him. She didn’t! But belying the words in her conscious mind, butterflies began hatching out of their cocoons in droves to swarm through her abdomen And she stared at the door suddenly paralyzed by the knowledge that she didn’t know what she’d do if he really did knock at her door. But, in the next instant, his steps moved on and seconds later she heard the door to the other bedchamber close

  Realizing that she’d been holding her breath, she released it on a sigh. Her heart hammered erratically in her chest as she tried to find an explanation for the strange sense of dejection that besieged her. She wiped her sweaty palms against her thighs and rolled her head in an attempt to release some of the tension in her neck. “I’m going crazy,” she murmured. Her irrational response to this man terrified her.

  She desperately wanted to escape. To go home, forget all the emotional upheaval of this meeting, and get on with her life.

  Somehow she suspected that getting over this Geoff would be even more difficult than it had been the first time. On some level, he intrigued her in ways the Geoff she knew, the Geoff she’d married, had never done. And that frightened her to death.

  “You’re really doing it, Devon,” she murmured. “You’re losing your flippin’ mind.”

  After tonight, she wouldn’t stay in this house She couldn’t. Not with him just a few steps away. She’d stay in town a couple of days in an attempt to work out the details of their divorce with this new Geoff. Hopefully that would be long enough to arrive at a course of action In the morning, she’d move into the bed-and-breakfast he’d mentioned—provided it had a vacancy.

  In the meantime, she had to try to get some sleep. As she opened the case resting on the bed and withdrew her nightgown and wrap, she had the terrible feeling that it was going to be a very long night.

  Chapter 3

  Jack stared into the darkness Night cloaked the room in shadow while sleep teased at the edges of his mind like a seductive wraith, des
irable but elusive. He wondered how long it would take for him to start thinking of himself as Geoff. It wouldn’t be easy; he’d been Jack Keller for a long time already Yet, he was already feeling...different. Although the thread was tenuous at this point, for the first time in memory he was beginning to experience a sensation of being connected.

  He tried to imagine himself as Geoffrey Hunter Grayson What had his life been like before he’d disappeared from Devon’s life? What had it felt like to know that he belonged with her? To know that she belonged with him and would be a part of his life? To come home after a day’s work to an attractive wife and two wonderful kids?

  But, once again, his mind remained obstinately blank. He substituted a television sitcom family picture—the only family that came to mind—and wondered if his own family had been anything like it. A knot formed in his throat, and he swallowed against it. Family life. It was the life he’d wanted for himself but believed he could never have. He wanted it again. If not with Devon, then with someone else. He just wished he could remember what it had been like the first time he’d lived it.

  And Devon wanted a divorce. The thought infuriated and frustrated him. Not because he loved the woman; he didn’t even know her, but because he felt that she was trying to deprive him of his life. A life he wanted back.

  Life in Northridge had not been bad, by any means. He had a job here and he’d made some casual friends. The kind who didn’t pry. Even so, his existence here had somehow seemed ..empty. Like a plant struggling to grow in dead soil, he felt inhibited. As though he was only partially alive. And now, he refused to ignore the possibility, however slim, that his previous life might return a sense of wholeness to his existence.

  A career, family, friends...they were worth fighting for. If there was one thing he’d learned when he discovered himself an island in a sea of interconnected people, it was that. Perhaps, if he’d not believed that he was a wanted man, a criminal, he would have allowed himself to become closer to the new friends he’d made. He might even have fallen in love with another woman and begun a new life. But he hadn’t been able to allow himself to trust enough to do that. And so, he’d remained an island.

 

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