by Lois Richer
“Nah. I’m not all that big on church stuff.” He pulled up near the door, glanced around. “Looks like you beat the bridal party to the church.”
“That’s a blessing. Thank you very much for coming to my rescue and for handling the tow for me, Ross.” She handed over her keys, then rested her hand on the door handle, wondering if she should say it. “You know they’d love you to come. Why don’t you at least attend the reception?”
“I’m waiting for a call from the lab,” he told her. “About the DNA tests.”
Kelly froze. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Both she and Ben had given samples for testing last week.
Don’t let me be her daughter!
“I didn’t realize you’d find out so soon,” Kelly whispered, staring at her feet. They were bare. She used her toes to grope for her shoes.
“You mean you were hoping.” His voice held a hint of condemnation.
“I have a full, rich life,” she told him, bristling a little. “I loved my parents. They gave me a wonderful life. It’s not that easy to suddenly accept that someone I’ve known for years could be my biological mother.”
“Someone you feel would take away the glory from your mother, is that what you’re saying?”
“I guess. Sort of.” It was more complicated than that, but Kelly had deliberately avoided probing her feelings to discover what lay beneath her sense of fear about this situation.
“Sandra’s not asking for anything, Kelly.” He reached out, touched the hand she’d clenched on her lap. “She just wants to know the child she gave birth to all those years ago.”
“So you’ve said.” Kelly opened the door, felt the sting of the cold crisp air hit her in a wave. Impulsively she turned, faced him. “But I already had a wonderful mother whom I dearly loved,” she blurted out. “Nobody can take her place.”
Kelly didn’t wait for the argument she knew would follow. She didn’t want to hear it. Instead she swung her legs out of the car, and rose. Then she bent and met his frowning stare.
“Tell Vinnie I’ll manage without the car until he gets it fixed. And thanks for the ride. I appreciate it very much.” She swung the door closed and hurried toward the church door, stuffing away all the doubts that had surfaced in the last few minutes.
“Please let it be Ben,” she murmured over and over as she hung up her coat, then was shown to her seat. “Please, please let Sandra’s child be Ben and not me.”
She sat in her pew, unable to relax until Reverend Fraser had taken his place at the front and Olivia, Ben’s precocious seven-year-old daughter began her stroll down the aisle, preceding the bride. She heard a rustle at the back and twisted in time to see Caleb and Anne sneak into a back pew. So they’d made it back from their honeymoon for the wedding! Caleb still had a week off from his duties as youth minister for the Chestnut Grove Youth Center and she’d specifically told Anne to forget about the books at Tiny Blessings for two weeks. Kelly suspected they’d disappear as quietly as they’d arrived to finish celebrating their own nuptials.
Anne looked so happy, so content. A frisson of envy twigged at her. It must be nice to have somebody to share with, somebody to help when life got to be too much.
Kelly pushed away the longing and turned back to concentrate on the ceremony. By the time the wedding march sounded, she’d almost convinced herself that everything in her world was just the same as it had always been.
Almost.
He didn’t belong here—not among these happy people, certainly not at a wedding reception where people celebrated marriage. The only thing Ross Van Zandt knew about marriage was that it didn’t work. Not for his dysfunctional family anyway.
Ross thrust away the past and concentrated on finding her among the guests now milling freely through the hall. He’d deliberately waited until the toasts were made, the speeches given, hoping not to ruin this lovely day.
Kelly was seated at a table with three other young women. Sandra had told him that four women had been friends for many years—Meg, Rachel, Pilar and Anne, who wasn’t at the table—and had a habit of meeting at Sandra’s Starlight Diner for brunch on Sundays. It was clear from their giggles and boisterous laughter now that they were trying to talk Kelly into joining them. By contrast, Kelly’s response sounded more restrained. He wondered if she was always so uptight, so restricted. If she ever let herself forget all the rules and relax.
“Ross?”
He wheeled around at the sound of his own name, found the groom standing to one side of the doorway, partially hidden by the massive potted palm that guarded the entrance.
“Hey, Ben. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Ben shook his hand while he studied his face. “You need to see Kelly,” he guessed.
“Yeah, I do. I just got a call from the lab and—”
Ben held up one hand. “You don’t have to explain. I understand. I’m not Sandra Lange’s child.”
“I was going to tell you after I told her.” As an apology, it lacked a certain something. Ross sighed. “Could my timing be any lousier?”
“It doesn’t matter, man. Really.”
“Yes, it does. I haven’t been able to find anything to lead me to your birth parents. That’s got to bother you.”
“Maybe it should,” Ben admitted with a grin. “And probably it will when I’ve got time to sit down and think about it. But right now all I can think of is that God gave me the most beautiful woman in the world to be Olivia’s mother and my wife. We just kissed Olivia goodbye. My brother is taking her to his house. Now Leah’s waiting for me to get out to that car so we can start the first phase of our life together. That’s pretty awesome, don’t you think?”
Ross smiled broadly. He liked Ben’s attitude. “Yes, it is.”
“Later I’ll have a lot of questions I’ll want answers to, and maybe I’ll hire you to find the truth, but not today. Today is for celebrating.”
“And you’re wasting time standing here because?” Ross raised one eyebrow.
“Because I forgot that I left my car keys with my dad. I was hoping to snag someone who wouldn’t mind getting them for me. Leah’s a wonderful woman and more patient than most, but she’s sitting in the car waiting to go on our honeymoon. If I show my face in that room again we’ll be delayed even longer. I barely got away unscathed the first time we left.”
Joy, anticipation and a certain confidence filled Ben’s voice. Ross’s discomfort at telling him the news today of all days eased a fraction. The man was clearly looking forward to some time alone with his new wife. The least he could do was help him.
“I’ll get the keys,” he told the beaming groom. “Stay out of sight and I’ll be right back.”
“Great! Thanks a lot.”
Ross stepped into the beautifully decorated reception room and breathed in the scent of flowers that mingled with burning candles, fully aware of exactly when the conversation stalled as curious eyes fell on him. Kelly’s friends were less than subtle in their nudges and winks, but Kelly ignored them to stare at him, a tiny frown pleating the smooth skin of her forehead.
Ross kept his course steady, approached Ben’s parents and quietly explained the problem. His father slipped him the keys while teasing, “Your P.I. technique of going unnoticed needs a little work,” he chuckled.
Ross tossed back his own witty retort then strode toward the door. Kelly rose, said something to Meg, and met him halfway.
“So you did come,” she murmured, her voice low, for him alone. “But you’ve missed the bride and groom.”
“Not quite. I’m on my way to see him right now.”
“Ben’s still around? Oh.” She trailed along beside him toward the door, stepped through and looked around. A soft chuckle burst from her. “Ben, why are you skulking behind that palm?”
“Shh!” He took the keys Ross held out and grinned. “Thanks a lot, pal.” He paused, spared a look for Kelly, glanced at Ross, saw the shake of his head and nodded once, understanding immediatel
y that she didn’t yet know the truth. “See you guys later,” was all he said before he turned and disappeared.
“Well.” Kelly watched him for a few moments then turned to face Ross. “Are you coming in to share the rest of the party?”
“Maybe later, thanks.” He took a deep breath. The time was now. “Kelly, have you got a minute? I need to talk to you. Privately.”
“Certainly.” She stood, tall, slim and poised, waiting innocently. “Go ahead. Is it about my car?”
He’d hoped for a quiet time when no one was around, when no one could interrupt. The soft sounds of music, laughter and the tinkle of glasses wafted out from the reception. Apparently this was as good as he was going to get.
“The lab phoned.” There was no easy way to say it. “The DNA was conclusive. You are Sandra Lange’s biological daughter.”
She froze—there was no other way to describe it. Her entire body slowly immobilized until she resembled a statue in the town square. Her brown eyes remained open but Ross doubted if she saw anything through the glaze shielding them. Her clear, pure skin blanched, then became a marble mask that gave away no emotion.
“Kelly?”
“Yes?” She faced him politely.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes, thank you.”
So polite. He waited, leaning on one foot first, then the other, expecting a reaction—something. Kelly Young offered nothing but icy silence. Impatient, Ross scoured his brain for some answer to her strange response. He put himself in her place, tried to imagine how she must feel.
“Sandra doesn’t want anything from you, Kelly. Except maybe a chance to get to know you better. She’s a lonely woman who’s going through a traumatic fight with cancer. Her prognosis is good, she’s doing everything she can to make a full recovery. The diner is running smoothly so she has no worries there. The only end that’s been left untied is finding the child she gave birth to thirty-five years ago. That child is you.”
“Yes, you’ve said that.”
“Do you want to see her?”
Kelly seemed to snap out of her fog, faced him with a frown.
“Now? It’s nine-thirty at night, and I’m at a wedding reception. I’m sure Sandra is busy.”
“I don’t think she’s too busy to see her daughter.”
She gaped at his words, then quickly shook her head, the multitoned blond facets in her chin-length hair catching the light of the massive chandelier overhead.
“I don’t—can’t see her just yet. I need some time to think about this.” Her hands knotted and unknotted as she stared at him. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“Of course.” He motioned to the doorway, wondering if she ever just relaxed and let people see what was inside. “Do you want to go back to the party?”
“No.” She was firm about that. Her eyes darkened to bittersweet-chocolate drops. “Not now. Most of the festivities are over anyway. I—I’d rather go home.”
“I’ll give you a ride, if you want.” He felt sorry for her then. Beautiful, composed Kelly Young looked so confused, as if she couldn’t quite make sense of her world.
She opened her mouth to decline, then obviously realized that her car was still at the garage.
“Thanks,” she murmured. It took her only a moment to say goodbye to her friends and retrieve the little bag she’d brought. She handed her ticket stub to the attendant and smiled her thanks when Ross held her cashmere coat open. “I’m ready.”
“My car’s in the parking garage. Do you want to wait out front?”
“I’ll go with you.”
Despite the height of her heels, Kelly matched his stride with no problem. She offered little by way of conversation so Ross tossed around for something to say.
“Was it a good wedding?”
“Aren’t all weddings good?” she asked, one perfectly arched brow lifted. “But, yes, this was a lovely wedding. Choosing to marry on the third day of the new year was a great idea. A fresh start, a fresh year.”
Once started, Kelly kept talking. Great food, great decorations, great music. Everything was great or wonderful or fantastic. Ross knew she was simply marking time until he pulled up in front of her house, filling the spot a sleek silver car had just vacated.
“I’ll walk you up,” he offered, but she waved one hand in decline.
“I’ll be fine. You probably have somewhere to be. Don’t worry about me.”
He ignored that, lending an arm for her to cling to as she balanced precariously on the icy path. She flashed him a smile once they reached the door.
“Thank you for saving me from a broken neck.”
“You’re welcome.” He waited till she’d unlocked the door. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“Of course.” She kept her face averted, refused to meet his eyes. “Thank you very much. Good night.”
“Take care.”
Kelly responded in kind, then closed the door.
Ross waited a few moments on the porch, leaning on a column as he watched the inside lights flare on. After a moment he slowly walked back to his car, his mind recreating the forlorn beauty of her face when he’d given her the news tonight.
What was Kelly Young so afraid of?
As he drove back to his apartment, Ross ruminated on Sandra Lange, pictured her sad green eyes peering at him, her newly grown silver-blond hair a shimmer of fuzz that feathered her scalp.
“If I could just know for sure,” she whispered to him that first day when she’d hired him to find her child. “Then maybe I could let it all go.”
Since then she’d become like a second mother to Ross, fussing with worry about the hours he spent on her case, the move he’d made from Richmond to Chestnut Grove to facilitate his work here, the time he’d spent following leads that ended in blanks. He’d never known concern like that, especially not now since his mother’s Alzheimer’s had made him a stranger to her. Maybe that’s why he felt an odd responsibility to Sandra, a need to be sure she was all right. She’d become closer to him than his mother and so he did whatever he could to help her realize her goal.
It struck him that his part in this story was over, that he’d done what Sandra had asked, found the child she’d lost. He should be thinking about moving back to Richmond.
But all he could think about was Kelly—a slim, pale woman who held her emotions inside as if she were afraid someone wouldn’t like her if they saw the truth.
He’d just rocked her world with his news. She would need time to think and digest what the knowledge could mean. Ross decided to visit Sandra while he gave Kelly an hour to regroup. Then he’d call, check up on her. Sandra would want him to do that.
But as he drove to Sandra’s, Ross knew that concern wasn’t all he was feeling. Something about Kelly’s reaction—as if she’d drawn her shields up, enclosed herself behind them—bothered him. She was hurting and it was his fault. He should have found a better way to tell her.
Ross admitted what had been lurking in the back of his brain for weeks.
He wanted to see Kelly Young without the shadows clouding her eyes, relaxed, carefree. He wanted to be there to see her when she’d been freed from whatever held her back, he wanted to be the one who saw behind that icy mask of tightly leashed control.
Kelly Young had everything he’d been denied—two parents who had adored her, a job she clearly loved, friends who were nearby whenever she needed them. Her life was full, happy, the kind of tale children’s storybooks were made of. Reaching out to Sandra Lange would cost her so little.
Yet she seemed terribly afraid of even meeting with Sandra now.
Why?
Chapter Two
Kelly leaned against the door and listened to the engine of Ross’s car as he drove away. She was odd man out, alone. Again.
Her friends each had someone special in her life. She had no one. It was a pathetic admittance, but the truth could not be denied. Kelly had no desire to return to the reception. Ross’s news ha
d leeched away the spirit of fun she’d shared with the others. Now all she could think about was Sandra Lange. She was Sandra Lange’s daughter. Sandra was her mother.
The knowledge filled her with unbearable angst that she couldn’t explain. It was fear, she knew that much. But the basis of it couldn’t bear exploring, not now. Kelly moved through the house slowly, scanning each room looking for something she could do to keep her hands busy, her mind occupied. But the big house was as neatly pristine as she’d always kept it. Just like the rest of her life.
Except for this business with Sandra. She skittered away from that. What to do?
Her mind flew to the storage closet she’d been cleaning at the office. Now there was a project that would take her complete attention. So what if it was ten o’clock at night—on a weekend?
She thought about it for the space of two seconds then bounded up the stairs to change her clothes. Clad in a thick gray wool sweater and black pants, she tied on her hiking boots, pulled on her parka, beret, scarf and gloves, then reached for the doorknob. The winking light on her answering machine made her pause.
“Hi, Miss Young. This is Vinnie at the garage. I took a look at your car and—well, I don’t know exactly how to say this. It looks like your steering has been tampered with. What I’m looking at had to be deliberate.” A sigh. “Maybe you better call me tomorrow or Monday. We’ll talk about it then. Bye.”
Tampered with? Surely he was mistaken—overreacting, perhaps. Nobody cared about her car, or about tampering with it. Besides, she kept it in the garage when she was home.
Still, he’d been so definite. Kelly had no idea how steering on a car worked, but she knew Vinnie knew his car stuff. If anybody could fix it, he could. Until then she’d walk back and forth to the office. It wasn’t that far and she needed the exercise after many Christmas indulgences. Kelly pulled open the door and stepped outside.
It was a lovely night—cold, clear, crisp. A promise of things to come?
Deliberately stuffing away thoughts of Sandra Lange, Kelly crunched down the street, admiring the lights and decorations that twinkled in the darkness. Usually she loved the holiday season. Celebrating Christ’s birth, welcoming in another year—they were beloved traditions her parents had taught her to note as milestones. It didn’t matter that the couple was gone now; she kept their traditions alive just the same, as a way of honoring them. Only this morning she’d written about the coming year in her journal.