“I want to grow down,” Jenna said, wishing she could let loose like that. “I’m not sure how, but I’ve got a lot of years to make up for.”
“You must have loved Paul very much,” Tawny said.
“I did once. But I wish I’d met Mitch first.”
Tawny sighed. “Me, too. But for you, it doesn’t matter. He’s obviously in love with you.”
Jenna looked at the lean, beautiful woman who stood beside her. “Why do you say that?”
“He broke a vow for you. Mitch is nothing if not honorable, even if he is stubbornly so. He wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”
Jenna let out a sigh of her own. If only she knew why. His heart? Paul’s heart? Would she ever know for sure?
Mitch rounded the corner, Scotty riding his shoulders. The boy was in full giggle mode when they reached Tawny and Jenna. Scotty had almost forgotten about the horses until Mitch set him down. “I wanna ride the baby horse,” he said, entranced once again with Karma.
“Not for a while, little man. But I’ll tell you what: when you turn eight, I’ll buy you a pony.”
“You will? Really?” Then he frowned. “But that’s a long time from now.”
“Yep. But you can look forward to it all the time in between. No matter what, the pony’s yours.”
“Wow! I get a pony, I get a pony,” he chanted, jumping up and down in time to his words.
Mitch answered Tawny’s questioning look with an assuring smile. Then she smiled a thank you. He turned to the horses who had moved to the feeding trough not far away. Boy George, however, had lifted her head to assess if Scotty’s ranting should warrant another retreat. Deciding no danger was imminent, she went back to the business of eating.
“What did the vet say?” Mitch asked Tawny.
They settled into a rather technical conversation that made Jenna glad she hadn’t stayed for the whole birthing process. She walked over to Scotty and said, “Let’s see if we can walk a little closer. Be quiet, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered loudly.
They walked to the corner of the fence, and although mother and colt watched them warily, they didn’t seem to mind the audience. The colt was beautiful, almost white with a couple of brown patches on his side. It was one of the most enchanting scenes she had ever seen.
“You’re not mad at Boy George for kicking you, are you?” Scotty asked in that loud whisper of his.
“No, I’m not mad at anyone.” Her cheek was still tender when she smiled, but the motion was worth any amount of pain. She couldn’t remember smiling so much in her life. “Aren’t they precious?”
“Yeah, pre-shish,” he agreed with a nod.
Several horses in the nearby pasture were watching the new mother and baby as well. Dave was in the ring with a horse, speaking in a coaxing voice. The morning sky was a huge blue bowl, big and bright. She loved her home in New Hampshire, but this was where her heart was. Not Paul’s heart, though surely the feeling of home had started there. Now it was her spiritual heart that bubbled over as she took it all in.
From across the fence she met Mitch’s gaze, and her physical heart fluttered. Unfortunately, where he was concerned, she couldn’t tell the difference. Before she could really call this place home, she had to know for sure. And, of course, Mitch had to ask her. Not in the sly way he’d done this morning, but really ask.
Through the morning, Mitch and Tawny worked with the new colt, and the vet stopped by to check on his new patient. Mitch went inside with him, and Tawny took Scotty inside for a nap. Jenna walked around, talking a bit to Dave, chatting with Sara. The girl was abuzz with enthusiasm, telling Jenna in detail what had happened the night before and using terms Jenna had never heard of.
When Sara excitedly told her about Karma passing his meconium, Jenna could at least nod in understanding, though why it was so exciting still baffled her. She spoke so highly of Mitch, Jenna wondered if Sara didn’t have a crush on him.
When Jenna realized that forty-five minutes had passed since Mitch and the vet had gone inside, she decided to venture into the offices to find out what was going on. She was feeling her energy level sag, gravity pulling her down. She passed one employee who pointed her toward the office. When she opened the back-office door and stepped inside, she stopped. Mitch was asleep, sitting in the chair with his head on the desk. No matter that the overhead light was glaring down, that sunshine spilled in from the window.
The office was large and cluttered, bookcases crammed with tomes on horses. In one chair several days’ worth of The Wall Street Journal were stacked up, and the in-box was full of mail. She saw several envelopes from investment firms and realized she’d forgotten how much money Mitch had. His watch bore the name of an Italian dish, sure, but he wore no other jewelry. He had his toys, but she liked the fact that he didn’t act rich.
Jenna made a sign that read, “Do Not Disturb” and taped it to the door, then turned off the light and flipped the shutters. Dim light filtered through, bathing Mitch in soft pink. Except for the occasional conversation outside, all she could hear was Mitch’s even breathing. He looked like a little boy, cheek flattened on the desk’s surface, one hand in front of him.
After a few minutes of watching him sleep, she pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the desk and laid her head down near his, pillowing her good cheek with her hands and closing her eyes. Just a few minutes, she told herself. A catnap to refresh them both.
Jenna’s eyes snapped open, and her heart beat like a drum inside her. Blackness pulsed around her, thrumming to the beat of her heart, adding to the panic that beset her senses as she tried to figure out where she was. This had happened in the hospital a few times, and in the apartment she’d stayed in afterward. She woke up, alone and afraid, trying to piece her life together.
But this time she wasn’t alone. Mitch was stirring across from her, making coming-awake noises. Or at least she hoped it was Mitch. She remembered coming in, closing the shutters … she squinted at the place she guessed the window to be. Tiny slits of moonlight shined beyond.
She felt him come awake suddenly, sitting up without preamble, sucking in a surprised breath. “Mitch?”
“Jenna?”
She felt for his hand, gave it a squeeze. “We’re in your office.”
Silence for a moment. “But it’s dark out.”
“Well, we took a little catnap.”
“That was in the middle of the afternoon!”
She chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I came in here to find out what was keeping you, and you were out. I thought I’d grab a snooze with you, and … well, here we are. Let me turn on the light.”
He grabbed her hand as she started to get up, pulled her back. “No, leave it off.” His voice sounded soft and hoarse, and along with those words, it sent pinpricks of desire through her body. She started to sit back down again, but she felt him come around the desk and stand in front of her. He still held her hand, and he used that to pull her close enough to feel his body heat wrap around her.
His mouth covered hers, hungrily kissing her until she melted against him. Their thighs brushed together, and her breasts pressed against his chest. He threaded his fingers up into her hair, deepening the kiss, swallowing her whole. Because of the darkness, all her senses were intensified. She could feel the pad of every finger on her scalp, the tip of his tongue as it ran over the ridges on the roof of her mouth, could smell faded soap and his own scent, could feel the muscles in his back move beneath her hands.
He finished the kiss, sliding his thumb back and forth across her moist mouth. “That’s what I thought.”
She could hardly catch her breath. “What are you talking about? Why are you talking?”
He chuckled softly, but the sound faded into silence for a moment before he spoke again. “I wanted to find out if kissing you in the dark would be better than kissing you in the light. When I kiss you, whenever I look at you, I see this doubt in your eyes.” He paused. “Do you still see Paul when you
look at me?”
“No,” she said, unable to even comprehend that he would think that. “I haven’t seen Paul in a long time. Not even … not even when you held me in the hall that first time, or when we kissed in Paul’s bedroom. I just told you that because I felt ashamed. I didn’t know why I was so drawn to you.”
“What are you doubting, Jenna?”
“Why I’m so drawn to you,” she said simply.
She could feel him nod. After a few moments, he said, “I wish I could take away all the hurt in your life, but unlike Paul, I don’t believe in running from the truth. I have my own truth that would better be put aside and ignored, but I can’t do that. I’m going to lay it out for you, Jenna, and I’m not letting you turn away from it either.”
His hands came up and cupped her face. “I can’t take away the pain or the past, but I can love you enough to override it. I’ll do better than protect you; I’ll stand by you and give you the strength to overcome it. And you’ll give me strength, too.”
She felt emotion rising up inside her, threatening to spill over. “Mitch …”
He placed a finger over her mouth. “Don’t talk. Just listen, because I need to say this before the words get all jumbled up in my head. You’ve done that to me, Jenna. You’ve made me crazy, and a whole bunch of things I don’t even want to get into right now. Not yet. I want to laugh with you, cry with you, and have children with you. I want you to make this place a home. When I look at you, I see my whole future. But you have to come to me without any doubts. That’s all I’ll accept. That’s all I’ll give you, too.”
Jenna could only stare at the place she knew him to be, that shadowy silhouette that was the man she loved. His words swam together, but what stood out most were the words home and love. And children. She held onto them, clutching them to her heart.
“Mitch, I’m so mixed up right now. But I want all those things you just said. And I want them with you. I know you deserve one hundred percent, and I hate thinking that Paul has anything to do with what we feel. And I think there’s a way to find out, to get it straight.”
“Not the way we handled it last night. That just made me crazier.”
She couldn’t help but smile, just for a moment, at those words. “Me, too. No, this has nothing to do with your bedroom. In fact, it has to do with your parents’ bedroom. Come on.”
Chapter 17
Jenna’s heart was pumping loudly in her ears as she and Mitch walked through the pine trees. She looked inside that heart and found that it was she, not Paul, who led her back to the master bedroom. She was in control now. Unfortunately that brought her no comfort tonight; she was throwing her bets on a hunch, a vague feeling that the answers lie in that room and that horrid scene of murder. If Paul led her there, it meant he knew she’d find the truth. Jenna didn’t have as much confidence in her own hunches, but it was all she had.
She couldn’t lose Mitch.
The prospect sent her heartbeat skidding. Suddenly she realized that losing Mitch would be much more painful than losing Paul had been. If only she could pretend the doubt wasn’t there … she already knew Mitch would see it. She could hide nothing from him, not with this connection between them.
When they walked into the master bedroom, she said, “I know the key to the past is in this room. Paul was in here, and I think Becky was, too.” She looked over at Mitch, whose expression was rigid. “Maybe Becky killed your parents and Paul covered for her.”
“Then why was he giving her money?”
She looked around the room, trying to imagine it with a bed, dressers … the way it had been before the murders. Then she turned to the wall and started to press her hand against it.
Mitch wrapped his fingers around her wrist, halting her. “What if you see the murders? I don’t want you to go through that, Jenna. Isn’t there some way I can see it?” He placed his hand against the wall and closed his eyes. His other hand was still around her wrist. After a moment, he opened his eyes.
“I have to do it, don’t I?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Remember, you said you wouldn’t protect me from the past, you’d give me strength to face it. I’m ready.”
She pulled her hand free, rubbed them together, and placed them against the wall. She drew in a deep breath as the room she’d earlier tried to imagine came into focus. From the corner of her eye she could see Paul’s hand as he used the wall for support. She felt Paul’s nausea rise up in her stomach, felt his dizziness swirl through her.
Don’t get sick on me, Paul! We have a lot of work to do. Becky walked into view, in control, shaking Paul’s shoulders. We’ve got to make it look like a burglary.
Paul took a step closer to the bed, gaze transfixed on the bloody figures lying there. Our last words were arguing. She heard Paul’s thoughts whisper through her mind. I’d agreed to break up with Becky, but I told them I hated them for it. I hated them. That was the last words I said to them. But I never meant to kill them.
Jenna felt her anger at those words swell up inside her. So it was true. He’d killed his parents, and led her here to expose the truth. But for what reason? Why had he put her through this?
The block was there again, that opaque mist that obliterated Jenna’s view. Go past it, she ordered herself, but her eyes opened instead. She blinked, finding Mitch standing beside her waiting, that worried look on his face. She realized this was hard on him, too, watching her go through this.
“You were right. Paul had broken up with Becky. And he felt bad because his last words with his parents were that he hated them. He didn’t mean to kill them.”
Mitch pounded on the wall. “Why does he keep holding onto you if all he shows you is more evidence against him?”
“He wants me to find the whole truth. He can’t believe he killed them. I didn’t see the murders. But I can’t get past this block. I know there’s something behind it, but I keep getting stuck.”
Mitch laced his fingers through hers, pressing her against the wall.
“Mitch, this really isn’t the time —”
He shook his head. “I’m not trying to get fresh, Jenna. I want you to try something. What were you thinking about when you ran into the block?”
“I … I wondered why he’d put me through this when all we keep finding, just like you said, is more evidence that he killed them.”
“You got angry, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes. I guess I did.”
“I could see it, the way your forehead crinkled. Remember the punching bag, when you let go of the anger you had toward your parents?” She nodded, remembering also how she’d told him too much. “But you didn’t want to let go of the anger you had toward Paul. You felt comfortable with it, you said. You were afraid to find out what was behind that anger, isn’t that right?”
“You listen too well, you know that?” She twisted her mouth in thought, then said, “Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“I want you to let it go now. No matter what you find on the other side, I’m going to be here. Last night you reached out to me. Do it again, Jenna.” He tightened his hold on her hands. “I’m right here with you.”
She saw the strength in his eyes, felt it run from his hands into hers. What if she let go of her anger, but still had her doubts? How long would Mitch stand beside her when he could see that doubt in her eyes? Be strong, Jenna. She heard the echoes of her parents’ voices, meshing with the voices of the townsfolk who hid her away after her parents’ murders. Be brave, little girl.
With the intensity in his eyes, with his body close and fingers laced through hers, she believed that he’d be her strength. She had to take this chance, to shed that comfortable cloak of anger and find out what was behind it. If Paul was indeed a murderer, she and Mitch would deal with that. She could be his strength then, convincing him that he didn’t have the murderous genes of his twin.
“I’m ready,” she said on a whisper, her chest tight. In response, his hands squeezed hers. I’m
here, the action said without words.
She inhaled, imagining the red anger filling her lungs, gathering it into one tight ball and expelling it from her mouth. Her eyes drifted shut, and she spun back into Paul’s soul again. He walked in a daze toward the bed, staring down at his parents.
We don’t have time for regrets now, Becky said, picking up the jewelry on the nightstand, the very pieces Paul had hidden in the cabinet.
But Jenna felt no anger now. And as she turned to face Becky, she saw no opaque wall. Becky grabbed a pillowcase from the linen closet in the bathroom and threw the jewelry inside. She thrust it at Paul, who numbly took the bag with shaking hands.
Why don’t I remember doing it? he asked in a lost voice.
You’re blocking it out. Come on, Paul, work with me here! I’m trying to save your butt. We’ll make it look like a burglary, go to my house and my dad will say we were there all night.
What if he doesn’t?
He will! Come on, move it.
Paul walked over and took off his father’s wedding ring, wrenching it free from his finger. He stared at it for a moment, then dropped it in the bag. When he looked over at Becky, she was staring at something lying on the carpet by the door. She snatched it up and stuck it in her pocket, then went to work wiping fingerprints off the doorknob and other surfaces.
Paul hadn’t taken much notice of that object. Through his eyes, Jenna saw him numbly take the watch lying on the nightstand and put it in the bag. But Jenna had seen it. She opened her eyes and found Mitch still standing in front of her, still holding her hands.
“Paul did it, didn’t he?” he asked, his face so close to hers that their noses touched.
She shook her head. “Paul thought he killed them. That’s why he felt guilty. As usual, he’d given up too easily. But something had registered in his subconscious, and that something is why he brought me here to find the truth. Maybe it became clear when he saw his life flash before his eyes.”
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