In a Heartbeat

by Tina Wainscott

  She’d gone on to say that she only wanted him to donate sperm to a fertility facility so that she could be impregnated with it, that she would sign papers disallowing any claim on him or Paul’s estate on the child’s behalf. His lips had been slightly parted, eyes wide with disbelief. A desire to walk closer to him, to touch him in her appeal had overcome her, but touching Mitch was dangerous. She shivered with the memory of being in his arms, safe and protected … and something more. Not more, she amended. Different. And not safe.

  It was her heart, she decided. She and Mitch shared a connection through Paul’s heart. Keep that in mind. Don’t lose your head over it.

  When she couldn’t linger any longer, she finally stepped out into the hallway. Party sounds filtered in through the French doors of the two-story room across from her own. Through the upper windows, she could see men of various ages lounging around, laughing and eating. She couldn’t see Mitch, not that she was particularly looking for him.

  She shivered at the thought of going out there and trying to be polite, answering questions. The events of the day were wearing on her, so many people to deal with. And she wouldn’t be able to meet Mitch’s eyes without giving away the apprehension over her request. Her fingers curled over the wood railing on the balcony. Slowly she pushed herself away from it and walked down the hall. The collage of pictures caught her eye again, but instead of seeing the pictures, she saw Mitch pulling her into his arms. She continued on, down the back stairs that led to the kitchen.

  Wasting time, she poured herself another iced tea, then took out the myriad bottles of pills she needed to take every evening. After piling them on a small plate, she put the bottles back in the flowered travel bag. Peering around the opening to the French doors leading outside, she spotted Mitch sitting off to the side in a chair. For an instant her pulse jumped, imagining it was Paul. Paul with long, honey-colored hair surrounded by friends. No, not Paul at all.

  She could hear them talking. “Hey, Bob, pass me a beer, will ya?” “Sure, Bob.” “Thanks, Bob.” One man tossed a beer to Mitch. “Ya outta have a beer at your own party, Bob.”

  Mitch didn’t even open the bottle. He was poured into a lounge chair, in the center of the men, yet in a way she innately understood, set apart from them, too. He looked lost in thought. Was he thinking about her request? What would she do if he said yes? Just that thought made her pulse speed.

  As he started to look in her direction, someone tossed a football in his lap. Jenna pulled back into the kitchen and busied herself with popping her pills. Inevitably, as though she had no control over it, her gaze sought Mitch again. He was sexy and beautiful in a way that Paul wasn’t, and she tried to figure out why.

  “Ah, that’s where you’re hiding.”

  Betzi set several tins on the long counter that separated the kitchen from the family room. Harvey, the black mop, followed her in, tongue lolling out of his mouth. When he saw Jenna, he seemed to find her more interesting.

  Embarrassed at having been caught watching Mitch, Jenna moved away from the window and smiled sheepishly. “Hiding is right, I’m afraid.” She nodded toward the noise, the sudden shriek of laughter outside. “I’m not up to that kind of socializing right now.”

  Betzi’s vivid blue eyes smiled along with every muscle in the sharp angles of her face. “Seems strange to have a guest in the house and not introduce her around. But can’t say as I blame you. Mitch just cut off their beer supply, and before long, I guarantee they’ll all be gone.” She lifted an elegantly arched, thin eyebrow. “Well, all except Mitch, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Would you like me to bring in some ribs for you?” At Jenna’s apprehensive look, she added, “I won’t even tell anyone you’re in here.”

  Jenna smiled. “I’d appreciate that. They smell delicious.”

  Betzi winked. “It’s my perfume. Works on the men every time.”

  Jenna felt herself giggle. How long had it been since she’d done something so simple and wonderful as giggle? Obviously much too long, because the action felt foreign to her.

  “I can give you a supply to, you know, help in the romance department.”

  Jenna held up her hand. “I’m not shopping, but thanks anyway.”

  “Nonsense,” Betzi said. “Everyone needs some romance in their life.”

  That image of Mitch holding Jenna upstairs rocketed into her mind. “That’s the last thing I need right now, believe me.”

  Betzi acknowledged that statement with a smile and lift of her eyebrow that hinted at doubt as she headed back around the corner. She returned with a rack of the most sinfully delicious ribs Jenna had ever tasted. She sat on one of the stools at the long counter, out of sight of the commotion outside. The stools reflected the less gaudy aspects of the house’s decor, made of metal with a galloping horse on the back support. The padded seat simulated the hide of a painted horse. They didn’t go with the marble countertops or fancy tile floor at all.

  “How did you and Mitch meet?”

  Jenna blinked. “You mean Paul, don’t you?”

  “No, Mitch. You seemed to already know each other when you arrived here.”

  “No, we’ve never met before. I never even knew about him.”

  Betzi regarded that, running her fingers down the close-cropped strands of silver. “You’ll forgive my forwardness, but it comes with the territory of being the queen of Bluebonnet Manor.” Those last words she spoke in an amused tone. “I know the ebb and flow of this place, and everyone in it. When I walked in earlier, when you and Mitch were in here, I felt the stirring of a storm. We don’t get many twisters our way, but when a small one sweeps through, I’ve always felt it long before.”

  Betzi waited patiently for Jenna to put her thoughts together. What kind of storm had she detected? “I don’t know if Mitch told you, but I have Paul’s heart.”

  “He told me.”

  “Mitch said he and Paul had this connection between them. Because I now have Paul’s heart, Mitch and I have the connection. That’s all it is.” At Betzi’s skeptical expression, Jenna looked around and segued into a different subject. “Part of me wants to know why Paul left this behind, and part of me doesn’t want to know too much.”

  “I suspect it had something to do with his parents’ deaths.” A shadow passed over Betzi’s sharp features. “But we don’t know why he left.”

  “What happened to their parents?”

  “That’s something you’ll have to take up with Mitch. Paul’s leave-taking hit Mitch hard. Roams the house, unable to sleep through the night ever since. Unanswered questions are the worst.”

  “But sometimes the truth can wreak more havoc than the not-knowing.”

  Betzi leaned against the opposite side of the counter. “Nonsense. Truth’s always better than hiding your head in manure.”

  Jenna had never been around people who spoke so bluntly, and she had no experience in the realm of arguing. “I’m not so sure about that,” was as close as she got.

  Betzi let that pass and thankfully changed the subject. “Anything you want to know about Paul and Mitch, just ask. I’d be glad to tell you, from their first diapers on.”

  “I know all I need to about Mitch,” Jenna said with more vehemence than she’d intended. “I mean, I don’t … I want to know about Paul. He told me such a different past. He didn’t even have a Texas accent.”

  Betzi waved that off. “Their father tried to eradicate that. He wanted them to sound like city boys, uptight and sophisticated. Paul tried to please his father, he did. Mitch was always the rebel. Said he was born in East Texas and was proud to sound like it.”

  Jenna could clearly imagine him saying that. “Paul and Mitch are so different.”

  “Always were. Mitch was the protector, fighting Paul’s fights, taking up his side no matter if he was wrong or right. Paul hated confrontation. Now don’t get me wrong about Mitch, he didn’t go ’round picking fights. But if there was some injustice, he’d
do his best to make it right, especially if it involved Paul.”

  “Shame on you, talking about me behind my back,” came Mitch’s voice from the opening.

  Mitch only looked slightly chagrinned, but it was with some curiosity in his eyes that he met her gaze. The sun slanted down through the skylight, lighting his hair to a golden shade of honey. Even those tiny hairs around his mouth were set off.

  “Watch it or I’ll tell her how long it took to potty train you,” Betzi said, straightening. “Are the Bobs gone?”

  “Every last one of them. Everything’s bagged up for Juan to take in the morning. Thanks, Betz.” He leaned close and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Always my pleasure. I’m off, then.”

  Jenna’s throat tightened at the prospect of being alone with Mitch. Bad things happened when they were alone.

  “Thank you for the company,” Jenna said, giving Betzi a warm, genuine smile.

  “It was a pleasure chatting with you, m’dear,” Betzi said just as warmly. “I’m off tomorrow, but I hope to have another chance to talk.”

  “That would be nice. I’d like to hear more about Paul, his childhood.” Jenna made a point to look at Mitch then, to make sure he understood it was Paul’s life she was interested in, not Mitch’s.

  As soon as Betzi closed the door behind her, the tension in the room rose steadily. Jenna reached down to pet Harvey. “Paul had a dog like this for a while,” she said, wanting to fill the silence. “He got hit by a car.” Paul had taken care of the details, not telling her anything. He’d even tried to hide his tears from her.

  Mitch leaned against the far end of the counter, but she could feel his presence as though he stood next to her. “Harvey was a stray. Don’t know where he came from, but one day he just appeared out by the stables. He was cute, so I decided to keep him. ‘Sides, Norma Jean wouldn’t have let me take him away anyway.”

  Jenna kept her gaze on the dog, trying to pick Paul’s voice out in Mitch’s. Not even close. So Paul hadn’t ditched his accent as part of his lie. That made her feel a little better.

  “Who’s Norma Jean?”

  “The mama cat who adopted him.”

  “Oh,” she said, drawing the word out. “A black dog named after a big, white rabbit.”

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  She looked up at him then. “I was kidding, actually. You named him after the Harvey?” When she realized they were sharing a smile, she turned back to the dog.

  “No one could see him for the first few weeks I started spotting him at the stables. Not that he was really invisible, just sneaky. My employees thought I was seeing things, so I named him Harvey.”

  Jenna smiled, but kept it aimed at the dog. “Now you’re too big to be sneaky, huh fellow?” Then something he’d said made her look up. “Your employees?”

  “I breed horses.” He met her gaze, but kept his expression completely straight. “You know, selling the offspring, training the young horses … stud service.” Those last two words sunk in the air, which had become tense again.

  Was that how he’d taken her request? “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Is it so different?”

  “Yes!” She came to her feet, moving closer before she could think better of it. “I’m not asking you to … well, it’s not because I want champion bloodlines.”

  He leaned close, making her body tense. He smelled like mesquite smoke. “No, you want Paul’s bloodline. Admit it: you want to pretend the baby is Paul’s.”

  “Yes.” she said on a breath, feeling warm all of a sudden. “I want to feel as though I have something of him. What’s wrong with that? It doesn’t hurt anyone.”

  Something shadowed his eyes, and he looked away for a moment. “Come on, let’s go look at those pictures you wanted to see.”

  Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his arm. He stopped, pausing for a moment before turning to face her. She quickly let go, feeling that disturbing sensation pass between them.

  “What about my request?”

  “I can’t.”

  He looked at her, and she tried hard not to let him know how his words affected her. With two words, he’d crushed her hopes and dreams. She blinked, trying to keep all emotion from her face. It was a crazy request, she knew that. Certainly out of the ordinary. But how could Mitch equate it with stud horses?

  Mitch broke eye contact and walked through the doorway. She followed him through the long dining room with a shiny black table inlaid with stone. A matching china cabinet and buffet lined the wall facing her. On the opposite wall hung a gorgeous painting of an ocean wave that gradually transformed into running horses. Late afternoon sunlight filled the music alcove, where a magnificent piano gleamed black and shiny, complemented by a lapiz stone bench that matched the dining table.

  She paused there, sliding her fingers across the surface. “Did Paul play?”

  “Yeah. He was pretty good, too, though he hated it.” Mitch took a step toward her, head tilted. “Can you play?”

  “I’ve never tried.” Forced piano lessons were hardly part of her childhood. She didn’t understand the interest in his eyes.

  “What about now that you have Paul’s heart? Can you play now?”

  Something about the question set her on edge. “No, I’m sure I can’t.” Paul never even let on that he knew how to play.”

  “What about memories? Can you see or feel anything from his past?”

  “No,” she lied.

  Suspicion clouded Mitch’s eyes, but he turned and continued on. What was the big deal about playing piano? She followed him, wondering at the enigma he presented. Suspicious, cold, but with a streak of tenderness he probably hated.

  The gathering room was two steps below the level of the rest of the house. Upstairs, she saw the balcony and the door to her guest room, and on the wall facing her the largest television screen she’d ever seen. Flanking that were built-in speakers as tall as ceiling. To the left of that was another fireplace made of carved marble. A teal-colored leather couch ran along the entire back wall.

  Mitch nodded for her to take a seat, walking to a built-in bookcase that looked to house every electronic device known to man. He pulled out two large photo albums. Her body tensed as she realized they would probably be sitting side-by-side on the couch, looking over the pictures. Not even Harvey’s presence made her feel better as he dropped down near the side of the couch. He started licking his leg, preening like a cat.

  On the way back to the couch, Mitch pressed a button on a remote-control unit and aimed it back at the bookcase, waking up an impressive stereo setup. Rock music poured forth from everywhere, even the ceiling, though a softer variety than what she’d heard earlier. Behind Mitch, steps led up to a half-moon bar that had a lighted column of bubbling water behind it. With another press of a button, the lights above the couch came on, leaving the rest of the room lit only by the fading daylight.

  The pool of light made her feel cozy, and that put her on edge even more. She focused on the bronze sculpture on galloping horses on the coffee table, and then beyond. The room was arranged in small gatherings of chairs and love seats, set up for multiple conversations. Even though she felt uncomfortable around crowds, what she wouldn’t have given to have a few people scattered about. Instead of being alone here with Mitch.

  Gold and crystal wall sconces were arranged all around the room, gaudy in their intricacy. The couch and chairs were elegant in their simplicity, but most everything else about the room screamed excess. She looked up as Mitch walked over, set the albums on the glass tabletop and dropped down on the cushy sofa beside her.

  Jenna found herself saying, “The couch is yours, isn’t it? I mean, you chose it. But the sconces, the coffee tables, they’re your parents’. Right?”

  He didn’t keep the surprise from his face. “How’d you know?”

  How did she know? “I guess I finally figured out why the house’s furnishings are so eclectic. Some of i
t belonged to your parents, but you’ve been putting your touches in here and there. Like the stools at the kitchen counter and the horse painting in the dining room.”

  He bent one knee as he sat facing her on the couch, his right arm resting along the top of the couch. “Very right. But you still haven’t said how you figured that out.”

  It startled her to realize she felt, for that moment, as though she knew Mitch better than she knew Paul. “I handled the interior decoration of the houses we renovated. I have an eye for styles and the personality they reflect. Somehow I don’t see you buying the coffee table with the golden cherubs holding the glass top.”

  His laugh was low as he looked at the coffee table at their feet. “I hate this stuff. But it’s all I have of my parents.” Abruptly he pulled one of the photo albums from the table and opened it. “I don’t know what you’re looking for exactly.” He pushed the album toward her. “But look to your heart’s content.”

  She thought for a moment that he was going to leave her to it, and for some odd reason that disappointed her. Instead, he leaned against the arm he’d propped up on the couch and watched her, making her wish he had left.

  Mitch couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so off-balance. As he watched Jenna flip through the pages of his and Paul’s lives, he tried to compare these feelings to anything else that had happened in his life, but this was something altogether different.

  Her outrageous request for his sperm had sent a twister through his psyche. He should have been insulted, shocked. But the reason behind her request stirred something he never felt: jealousy. Jenna was so devoted to Paul, loved him so much, that she was willing to make an unheard-of request of a virtual stranger. The fact that she readily admitted she would consider the baby Paul’s stung even more. There was a time he’d have done anything for his twin, but not now. Not until he knew the truth.

  Unbidden, a vivid image of him and Jenna making love flashed through his mind. Naked bodies, slick with sweat, and Jenna murmuring his name — not Paul’s. He sucked in a breath, then coughed to cover it. He waved away her concern, ducking his head.