Who Am I?

by Dooley, Lena Nelson

He cleared his throat, and she glanced at his Adam’s apple, then his mouth.

  He steeled his senses against the emotional assault that battered him every time he was around her.

  “I have to get back to work.” He pulled a dead leaf off the climbing rose that almost completely covered the arbor.

  Leiann swallowed, and he watched the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. She felt the same connection he did. He jerked around and strode back through the garden toward his cottage.

  ❧

  As Leiann watched Gerome walk away, she felt bereft. What was there about the man that tugged at her senses? Sure, he was handsome, but so was Eric, and she didn’t have to fight an attraction to him.

  She didn’t need any kind of emotional attachments right now, at least until she sorted out all the ramifications of the story from her grandfather. He’d asked her to stay at least until the middle of summer, and she’d decided to grant his request. She still had a lot of questions buzzing around in her head.

  Before she left, Leiann wanted to find out all she could about her natural father. What he liked when he was growing up. What activities he participated in. What he looked like. Surely her grandfather had photos she could look at.

  Hearing someone come out onto the terrace, she retraced her steps. Leiann felt ravenous, and she was confident that Mrs. Shields had created some culinary delight to tease her taste buds.

  Leiann enjoyed a cup of cool cantaloupe soup and a chicken salad croissant sandwich, accompanied by a tall glass of ice-cold, fresh-squeezed lemonade. As she finished the last bite, Charity brought a serving of pound cake topped with fresh strawberries and a sprig of mint.

  “Can you join me for dessert?” Leiann looked up hopefully.

  “Not today.” Charity held the empty tray under one arm. “I need to go to town for Grandma.”

  Even though she was disappointed to have to eat alone, Leiann savored every juice-soaked morsel of the dessert. She leaned back in the chair and gazed across the gardens toward the mountain where she’d had the accident. That’s what it had to have been. An accident. She hadn’t seen any proof the step had been cut. Eric probably didn’t like Gerome, so he’d planted the seeds of doubt in her mind.

  This time, she heard the door open before Eric spoke to her. “I’m glad you’re here. I just found out something very interesting.” He probably thought dragging out the last two words would make her want to know more.

  She watched him over her shoulder as he approached. “And what is that?”

  “A reason Gerome Mays might want you out of the way.”

  Leiann sat up straight. “What are you talking about?”

  Eric dropped into the chair across the table from her. “Prudence said he’s Herman’s stepson. I’m sure he hopes to inherit the fortune, which is purportedly worth millions, maybe billions. He wouldn’t want some long-lost granddaughter to get in his way.”

  Chills gripped her spine. Her life was getting weirder by the minute. Gerome Mays was her grandfather’s stepson? Neither one of them had mentioned anything like that to her. Why not? If it were true, that would make the man her. . .

  “He’s your uncle, sort of, isn’t he?” Eric grinned.

  Who could she trust? She’d felt safe around Gerome and her grandfather. But apparently they’d both lied to her, or at least hidden a vital truth.

  ❧

  Sleep that night proved elusive. Leiann paced across the vast room from the closet, past her king-sized bed, to the French doors, then back. Snatches of conversations from the day flitted through her mind. Finally one of the things Eric said stuck. Millions or billions. Could her grandfather really be that wealthy? If so, would that make her a target for Gerome?

  Unsettled, she went downstairs, careful not to make a sound. She didn’t want to awaken anyone.

  She was more comfortable raiding the kitchen now that Mrs. Shields had given her permission. After noticing the pound cake under a crystal dome, she searched through the refrigerators, hoping to find more strawberries. When she did, Leiann cut a piece of the cake and topped it with the fruit. She sat on a stool beside the worktable with the dessert and a glass of milk.

  Leiann almost felt as if she were the only person in the house. She wished she’d brought a book downstairs so she could read while she enjoyed her midnight snack.

  Leaving the food sitting on the table, Leiann went to the library to get one of the Christian novels. When she opened the door, a lamp across the room cast a soft glow, dispelling part of the darkness. Gerome Mays, dressed in sweats, stood near the shadows, holding an open paperback book.

  “What are you doing in here?” If he were a gardener or handyman, he shouldn’t be in the main house at this time of night. However, if he really was Herman’s stepson. . .

  He closed the book but held his finger between the pages. “I could ask you the same thing. Isn’t it a little late for you to be roaming around?”

  “I came down for a snack. I forgot to bring a book with me, so I decided to choose one of these.”

  Gerome stepped away from the shelves. “Be my guest. I’ve decided to borrow this one. Mr. Johnson gives all the employees access to his library.”

  Leiann walked past him and pulled Midnight Zone from the shelf. She turned back to face him.

  He studied her so intently she felt uncomfortable.

  “I’ll just be on my way.” Without looking back, she exited the room.

  After closing the door, she leaned against it and took a deep breath. That man was much too virile for her peace of mind. In the muted light, the hard planes of his face stood out in sharp relief from the shadowed hollows in his cheeks. The dusting of dark hair along his strong jawline shouted masculinity, and his brooding eyes made her think of Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre. Finally, she understood why Jane felt so drawn to the man.

  She took a deep breath and went to the kitchen. Leiann tried to read the book while she ate her snack, but vivid images kept jumping in front of the words. Gerome Mays, standing in the library. Eric telling her about her grandfather’s fortune. She didn’t want to believe that anyone would want her out of the way, especially not her rescuer. Wishing she knew the extent of the possible danger, she decided to see if she could find anything that would indicate how much her grandfather was worth.

  ❧

  Gerome hadn’t expected to meet anyone in the library after midnight. When Leiann came through the door, dressed in a robe, he almost lost the ability to talk. The woman was ravishing with her tumbled, light brown curls. The intimacy of being in the darkened room with her made his pulse race.

  Gerome heard a light thump outside the door and knew she’d slumped against it. Somehow, he instinctively knew when she moved on. He was attuned to her every move. He’d never experienced anything like this with the women he had known over the years.

  He quietly opened the door and peeked into the corridor in time to see her heading into the kitchen. She left the door open, and he peered through the crack, watching her eat some of Mrs. Shields’s wonderful pound cake. For a moment, Gerome thought about joining her, until he noticed how unsettled she appeared to be. Something was bothering Herman’s lovely granddaughter. He hoped it wasn’t a guilty conscience. He still wasn’t completely certain she wasn’t involved in the swindle.

  Leiann took her plate and glass to the sink and drank the last of the milk before she rinsed the dishes. Gerome moved out of sight down the hall.

  Instead of going up to her room, she went to Herman’s office. What was she doing there? She tried to turn the door-knob, but it didn’t budge.

  She leaned against the door frame and rubbed her eyes. When she stood up straight, one arm hit the door with a thump, and it swung open. A startled look covered her face. Evidently, the locked door hadn’t been closed properly. Leiann went in without shutting the door completely behind her.

  Gerome crept down the hall until he could press his eye against the slim opening between the door and its facing. He watched
her go to the desk and try to open each of the drawers. She found them all locked. She wandered over to the bookshelves and searched every shelf. What was she looking for?

  She picked up a box from the corner of the bottom shelf and set it on the desk, turning on the lamp before she opened it. The first book she pulled out looked like a ledger. Why didn’t Herman keep that locked up? Probably he thought it was safe with the office door locked.

  Taking her time, Leiann studied several pages of the book, then turned to the front. He’d seen those kinds of ledgers before, when he and his mother lived here. The front pages gave the dates covered by each ledger.

  Leiann looked into all the books stored in the box. Gerome wished he knew which years these covered. He knew Herman kept the current ledger locked in his desk. At least, he used to. Although the Old Man kept all his files on a computer, he’d told Gerome he liked to have a hard copy he could hold in his hands, the way he did when he was younger. Surely the ones in the box were from years ago and wouldn’t be useful to anyone, especially the young woman who pored over them.

  After she returned the box to its space, she headed toward the door. Gerome crept to the end of the hall and watched from around the corner as she went to her room.

  What was Leiann trying to find in Herman’s office? Was she working with Eric Smith and his sister? Maybe she came here on her own, looking for what she could get from the Old Man.

  When he returned to his cottage, Gerome had a hard time going to sleep.

  ❧

  After her foray into her grandfather’s office, Leiann felt restless and distressed. Although the ledgers she perused were not current, they painted the picture of a true billionaire. Her grandfather’s wealth might have fluctuated since then, but probably not a great deal.

  If he wanted to make her his heir, or at least one of them, and if someone else wanted to be the sole heir, she could be in danger. Maybe Eric was right about the steps on the tower being tampered with. Her intuition told her that Gerome was a hero. What if the opposite were true?

  A week went by without her being able to make any headway in her thoughts. It was hard to hide her distress from her grandfather. Wanting to get away from all the turmoil, she decided to go to Boston to do some sightseeing on her own. This metropolitan area had as strong a tie to the past as it did to the present. She might as well see all she could while she was here. It could be her only chance.

  Her grandfather had started taking his breakfast with her. Over the fluffiest omelet she had ever eaten, she enjoyed visiting with him and talking about Massachusetts. “I’d like to take you up on your offer to let me borrow the car today.”

  “I’m glad. I want you to enjoy your time here. Maybe you’ll want to come visit me often.” When he set his coffee cup onto its saucer, the china clattered.

  She didn’t like the way his hands trembled. Now that she knew him, she wanted him to stay around for a long time. He was the only real family she had left.

  “So, where are you going today?”

  She leaned toward him. “I’d like to check out several things. Boston Common, Old Ironsides, Boston Harbor. I want to walk on the cobblestone streets, and I love poking around in museums.”

  “I’d enjoy going with you, but that’s a lot of walking for an old man.”

  “Maybe we could go somewhere together on another day. A place that wouldn’t be too much for you.” Leiann took another bite of the omelet.

  “We must go to my house on the Cape while you’re here. Maybe we can do that next week.” The statement brought a sparkle to his smile.

  “The Cape? Where’s that?”

  His hearty laugh belied his frailty. “That’s what the locals call Cape Cod. It’s that funny-shaped loop of land that juts out from the southeast corner of the state.”

  “I’d like that.”

  ❧

  When Leiann reached the garage, she found the doors open, revealing several vehicles. She noticed her grandfather’s chauffeur polishing the windows of the limousine. “Mr. Greene, I’d like to use the Mercedes today.”

  He turned toward her. “Mr. Johnson sent word to be sure she was gassed up. I didn’t have to do anything, though, because no one has driven her since I filled her up last time.”

  Leiann hoped it wouldn’t be too much different from driving her compact. She hoped she wouldn’t have any trouble backing it out. “Is there anything I need to know before I take it out?”

  “No, she drives like a dream. I’ve put some maps in the front seat for you. They’ll help you get wherever you want to go.” He laid the rag and bottle of glass cleaner on a shelf. “Let me pull her out for you.”

  After he stopped the car facing the drive, Mr. Greene got out and held the door for her. Leiann slid into the butter-soft leather seat. He closed her door and she pushed the button that slid down the front window. She took a deep breath and exhaled.

  “You’ll do fine, Miss Hambrick. Have a nice day.” He waved her off.

  After adjusting the seat and mirrors, Leiann sat in the car and studied the maps for a few minutes. She marked the places she wanted to go today. She’d always been good at directions, so she didn’t think she’d have any problem finding them.

  Leiann eased the car around the circle drive in front of the house, trying to get a feel for driving it. She stopped and tried all the controls to make sure she knew what they did. When she turned on the radio, the dial was set on an easy-listening station. She decided to leave it there. Her nerves needed to be soothed.

  She pulled out of the gate and accelerated on the winding downhill drive. The mountain behind the house wasn’t the only steep incline on the property.

  After taking several of the curves, Leiann began to feel comfortable with the automobile, so she drove a little faster on a longer section of straight road.

  When a sharp hairpin curve appeared up ahead, she applied the brakes. Nothing happened. Adrenaline coursed through her. She pumped the brakes. Again, nothing.

  Leiann’s breathing accelerated right along with her pulse that pounded through her veins. She frantically pumped several times, her hands fused with the steering wheel. Still the car didn’t slow. God, help me!

  Would He want to? She had been avoiding Him since she’d found out about her grandfather. Could He help her in time?

  She jerked the wheel to take the turn, but the vehicle kept going much too fast. The tires screeched.

  The road rose a little, slowing the car’s momentum slightly. But when she topped the rise, the next section went straight down at an alarming angle. She felt as helpless as she had hanging on the side of the tower.

  The car barreled down the mountain, gaining momentum. This time her life did flash before her eyes. She fully expected to join her mother, father, and Milton any minute.

  Eight

  After going to town to buy fertilizer, Gerome was making his way through the mountainous drive to the house when he noticed a car racing toward a deadly curve. It looked like Herman’s Mercedes. Who was the crazy driver? And why was he going so fast? Didn’t he know how dangerous this road was?

  He went around a curve that hid the oncoming car from his line of sight. Was the driver in danger? Should he pull off on the upcoming bypass in case he could help?

  After slowing the pickup, he drove onto the widened shoulder. He stepped out of the truck and listened to the approaching vehicle’s engine, still coming at full speed. If that car didn’t slow down, it wouldn’t make the next curve. He jogged along the edge of the pavement until he could see the hidden section of the drive.

  As he topped the rise, he caught a glimpse of Leiann’s frightened face through the windshield of the hurtling car. Drained of color with her wide eyes dark against their too-white background, her features contorted in fear. What did she think she was doing?

  While he watched, horrified, the car missed the curve. It sailed into the deep ditch on the mountain side of the drive. Small trees and bushes impeded its forward motion enou
gh to slow it down before it hit the trunk of a giant elm. The impact shook the tree, and green leaves showered down.

  Gerome sprinted back to his truck and jumped in, gunning it as he backed onto the road. He topped the hill faster than he should have. After pulling his cell phone from his belt, he punched 9-1-1 with one hand.

  “There’s been an accident.” He rattled out all the information he had, then flipped the phone closed, despite the operator’s asking him to stay on the line.

  He came to a screeching halt far enough off the road so he wouldn’t be hit if someone else came by. Gerome shuddered to think what would’ve happened if her car had gone off the other side of the road. By the time the vehicle hit the bottom of the deep gorge, it probably would’ve burst into flames. Leiann wouldn’t have survived that wreck. Hopefully, she did this one.

  Making his way down to the car, he slid on topsoil and rocks the Mercedes had loosened on its descent. He fell but quickly picked himself up, dug in his heels, and continued. Two bushes he tried to use as support came out of the ground, roots and all.

  When he arrived beside the car, he saw steam rising from the radiator, which had probably cracked on impact. But he didn’t smell gasoline, so hopefully the tank was intact.

  He tried to open the driver’s door, but it was either jammed or locked. The deflated air bag draped across the bottom of the steering wheel. Leiann slumped in the seat belt, not moving. At least he couldn’t see any blood.

  Gerome scrambled around the car, trying each of the doors. None of them budged. He went back to Leiann.

  He knocked on the glass, hoping to rouse her. “Leiann! Can you hear me?”

  She moaned and rolled her head, then opened her eyes. They looked glazed.

  ❧

  Leiann blinked several times. What was that loud thumping? She glanced out the window straight into Gerome’s worried face. She closed her eyes. The sunlight hurt them. Where was she?

  The last thing she remembered was leaving the house. . . driving the Mercedes. . .losing control. . .tapping the brakes. . . missing the curve. Frantic, she opened her eyes and looked around.