Brooding Angel

by Marie Ferrarella

  So where was he? she wondered, looking at the clock again. It seemed to her that the hands were frozen in place. They’d been in the exact same position when she had looked last. She wanted to tell him. Now. To let him know just how well he had succeeded.

  But she couldn’t tell him if he wasn’t here.

  She couldn’t tell him any of it.

  Her eyes began to droop. She fought against drowsiness, struggling against sleep’s grasp. It was important that she remain awake.

  * * *

  When he eased his key out of the lock and walked into the apartment, Mitch found Clancy dozing in her chair.

  She had been waiting up for him. The thought washed over him, warming him. Common sense dictated that she be in bed, getting her rest. But then, Clancy had never been one for common sense. She went with her emotions. Maybe that was what made him feel the way he did about her.

  Clancy woke up as soon as Mitch closed the door behind him. She blinked once, rotating her shoulders, then noticed there was something different about the way he held himself.

  “Is it over?”

  Mitch nodded as he uncinched his gun belt. “It’s over.”

  She heard the unspoken relief. “And it wasn’t your father.” It wasn’t a question; she just wanted confirmation.

  “No. It was another policeman on the force.” He hated when that happened. It made you look over your shoulder, made you doubt the next man. For a moment, when his father had given him Slattery’s name, Mitch had wondered about McAffee as well. He and Slattery appeared to be friends. But McAffee had been just as surprised by the revelation as he was. Probably more.

  Mitch removed his holster. Wrapping the belt around it, he shook off the tentative hold that weariness had over him. He felt exhausted and wired at the same time. Setting the holster on top of the refrigerator, he turned to her. “What are you doing up?”

  She smiled. There would be a hundred more nights like this. A hundred times a hundred. She would always be waiting for him to come home.

  “Waiting for you.”

  He debated getting something to drink and passed on it. “You should be in bed.”

  “It’s lonely in there.” She reached for his hand, curling her fingers around his. “Besides, I wanted to show you something.”

  He’d learned that she was a whiz with graphics, developing programs he couldn’t even begin to fathom. She probably wanted to show him something she’d worked up on the computer. Mitch could barely stand. Slattery hadn’t gone peacefully. Caught in the act, he had thrown the picture frame at Mitch and run. Mitch had covered half the length of the grounds before he’d caught up with him.

  Even then the tension had raced through him. His father was just perverse enough to have given him all the right information and still have been the one responsible for the burglaries. The thought of outwitting the authorities when they held all the cards was the sort of thing that would have excited Sam.

  It wasn’t until Mitch had straddled the burglar, yanked off the ski mask and looked down into a face that wasn’t his father’s, that he had felt relief.

  “Can it wait until morning?” He moved behind her, ready to push her wheelchair into the bedroom.

  She twisted around in the chair, nearly giving part of her secret away. “It’s been waiting for three days. Now that the case is finally over, I think you can stand a little good news.”

  Exhaustion left him like air being let out of a tire. “Such as?”

  Clancy didn’t answer him. Instead, she pushed herself shakily to her feet. Mitch moved to take her elbow, but she waved him back.

  “No, stand over there.” Confused, he backed up. “No, farther. Farther.”

  He stopped a little over five feet away from her. And there he remained, rooted to the floor. Watching. His heart hammered wildly in his ears, mimicking the pulses that were vibrating throughout his body.

  As if she were an infant taking her first, halting steps, Clancy moved one foot before the other, her arms stretched out on either side to help balance her. She watched Mitch’s face as she came to him.

  Maybe it was the lighting, but she thought she saw the glint of something in his eyes. Or maybe it was just because her own eyes were filled with tears.

  When she was finally in his arms, Mitch closed them around her quickly, holding her to him. She could feel the erratic beat of his heart against hers.

  As she would always feel, she promised herself.

  She could walk. Dear God, she could walk. Joy of a magnitude he had never known before filled him. And yet there was a dark corner to his joy. The pallor of a profound sadness he told himself he had no business feeling.

  A sadness foreshadowing things to come.

  “Good news such as that,” she said, finally answering his question. She ended with a laugh.

  He couldn’t make himself release her. He held her as if she was the most precious thing in his life. Because she was. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you, I wanted to show you. And I wanted it to be when your mind was clear.” She looked up at his face. “I can walk, Mitch. I can walk,” she cried, joy vibrating in every syllable. “And it’s all because of you.”

  He couldn’t share in the moment. It was hers alone. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  She couldn’t believe he had said that. “You had everything to do with it,” she insisted. “I was ready to give up. I had given up. You were the one who refused to let me.”

  He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. There was a lump the size of a baseball in his throat. Mitch held her to him for a long moment.

  He felt tears forming within him. Tears of relief, of joy and of sorrow. Struggling, he refused to let any of his emotions surface.

  It was a job, just a job like any other. He’d set out to do a job and he had done it. And if a piece of himself had been sacrificed in the process, that was just the way things went.

  Slowly, his arms slipped away from her. Clancy felt cold, as if a draft had suddenly entered the room. Though he didn’t take a step back, he distanced himself from her.

  “Looks like you won’t need me anymore.”

  She stared at him as if he had suddenly begun speaking a foreign language. The smile slid from her lips. “What are you talking about?”

  He shrugged, attempting to maintain a casual tone. “Well, now that you can walk again, you’ll be going back to work soon. You’ve healed, or almost have. It’s only a matter of time before everything is back to normal for you.”

  Her mind was spinning, trying to capture the gist of his meaning. She refused to believe he was actually saying what it sounded like he was saying. “What are you telling me, Mitch?”

  Damn it, why wasn’t he stronger? Why did this hurt so much? Why couldn’t he just turn around and leave, the way he’d done before? It had ripped him apart, but he had managed. The situation was the same now as it had been then. He was still the same man he’d been then. “That I’ll be moving out again.”

  There hadn’t been a glimmer of emotion in his voice. “Just like that? You can leave me just like that?” Her voice grew hoarse, choked. “After all we’ve been through together?” She grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. “Damn you, Mitch, I love you.”

  No, not “just like that,” Clancy. This is hard for me. Really hard.

  He took hold of her shoulders. “No, you don’t. You don’t love me. What you’re feeling is just gratitude, Clancy. It’ll pass in time.”

  She pulled her arms away and nearly fell. He grabbed her again, steadying her. Her eyes flashed as she looked up at him. “Don’t you tell me what I’m feeling. You’re not inside here. I am.” She splayed a hand over her breast. “And it will not pass.”

  She was making it so hard. Didn’t she know that this was for the best? That this was for her? “We both knew that this was only a temporary situation.”

  She bit the inside of her lip to keep the tears back. “That’s how it started out.�
��

  His voice was flat, unwavering. “Nothing’s changed.”

  Damn it, she wasn’t going to let him pull away from her. “Yes, it has. You’ve changed. I’ve changed.” If she could have, she would have shaken him. “There’s something between us. And it’s even stronger than it was the last time.”

  Clancy let out a shaky breath. Maybe this was part of the reason she’d put off telling him. Something instinctive had held her back. As excited as she’d been about finally being able to walk, somewhere within her soul she’d been afraid that it might signal an end to what they had.

  Struggling, she gathered her thoughts together. “I don’t even know why you left me the last time.”

  He wished she’d let it go. He didn’t have it in him to fight her and himself as well. “I told you. I’m a cop first and foremost—”

  That wasn’t a reason. That was an excuse he was using. “I never asked you to be anything else.”

  “You didn’t ask, but I’d have to be, for you.”

  She didn’t understand. Let me in that head of yours, Mitch. Please. “Why?”

  The answer was simple. He’d thought she’d known. “Because you deserve better.”

  What kind of smoke screen was he throwing up? “Don’t you think I know what I deserve?”

  Mitch felt as if he’d aged a great deal in the last few minutes. He attempted to guide her back to the wheelchair, but she refused to move. Though her legs were tired, aching, she remained toe-to-toe with him.

  He looked down at her face. “The best.”

  “Yes,” Clancy answered fiercely. “The best. And that’s you.”

  She could say that, maybe even believe it, now. But she’d return to her world, to her friends. Comparisons would be inevitable. And eventually she’d begin to hate him for dragging her down.

  “My father is a thief. My mother was a dried-up woman who cleaned office buildings when she wasn’t wearing out her knees, praying for forgiveness for having me. You have parents who have rubbed elbows with heads of state.”

  She saw the pain in his eyes. He’d suffered as a child. She swore to make up for it. “Seems to me that you have the more colorful background.” When he arched a brow at her assumption, she shrugged. “The grass is always greener on the other side.”

  She was better at words than he was. It didn’t change anything. “We’re not talking about grass.”

  Her smile faded. “And we’re not talking about families, either. Not extended ones. Just the one we can form.” She twisted her fingers in his shirt, silently imploring him to see with his heart, not his mind. “Mitch, it doesn’t matter what your parents were or weren’t. It only matters what you are.”

  Her mouth softened as the love she felt entered her eyes. “Fine and decent and wonderful. And more importantly, I love you.” Slowly, she withdrew her fingers, smoothing out his shirt. “The way I see it, our children will have one very solid grandfather and one very colorful one.”

  He noted the way her voice shifted as she said the word. “Children?”

  “Yes.” Here goes nothing. “That was the other surprise.” Suddenly afraid of his reaction, Clancy looked down at the floor. “Except that it’s falling a little short.”

  He gripped her shoulders a little harder than he realized. When she winced, he loosened his hold, but he still bracketed her with his hands. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Yes. The stick was blue. Home pregnancy kit.” Every word stuck in her throat, though she maintained a smile on her lips. Hoping. “I had the market deliver it yesterday.”

  Pregnant. She was carrying his child. His. Mitch looked at her, stunned. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His voice was barely audible. She couldn’t tell whether it was from disbelief, joy or anger. She was afraid to cast her vote. She was very close to tears, she realized.

  “Because I wanted to hear how you felt about me first. I wanted you to stay because of me, not the baby.” And he obviously didn’t want to stay because of her. The knowledge hurt worse than anything she had endured after the accident.

  She still didn’t understand, even though he had explained. “Clancy, I was leaving because of you.”

  She pursed her lips. “Well, that makes me feel special,” she murmured sarcastically. She was driving him away.

  He held her to him again, shaking his head. This was all wrong. “Because you are special.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You’re the most special human being on the face of the earth to me.”

  Clancy blinked, her lashes moist. She’d won, she thought. She’d won. She swallowed before saying anything, her throat sore. “Then I don’t see our problem, do you?”

  “You’re twisting things.” He wasn’t protesting any longer. He wanted her too much. Wanted her and his child too much. It was insane, but maybe, somehow, this could work out after all. If they both tried hard enough. Maybe, just maybe, in her world love did conquer all.

  “No, I’m straightening them out.” She placed her hands over his as he framed her face. “I’ve always loved you, Mitch, from the very first moment you walked into my apartment, swaggering like John Wayne, looking to take my statement.”

  “I didn’t swagger,” he retorted, then grinned. “That fast?”

  Her smile took over her entire face. “That fast.”

  She’d been ready to marry someone else before the accident. “What about Stuart?”

  She frowned. That had been an error. Hurt feelings on the rebound, she thought. She’d done her best to disguise them, but she now saw them for what they were. “When you left me so abruptly, I didn’t think I could bear it. Stuart came along, saying all the right things. He was someone I thought was like my father. Solid, dependable. Except he wasn’t.” Her eyes caressed his face. “You’re like my father.”

  “Me?” Mitch laughed shortly. She was way off base there.

  Clancy wasn’t swayed. “You. You stuck by me no matter how hard I pushed you away.” Mischief wreathed her expression. “Quid pro quo. Now I’m sticking by you no matter how hard you push me away.” She tried to raise herself up on her toes and succeeded just marginally. Something else to work on. “Because I think that I am probably the best thing that ever happened to you, Alexander Mitchell.”

  That he would never argue about. “You are.”

  Score one for her side. “And, since I love you, I’m not going to let you do something stupid, like leave me.”

  It wasn’t fair to her, but who was he kidding? With the best of intentions, he still couldn’t leave. It was like saying he was going to stop breathing. He couldn’t exist without her.

  He probably couldn’t even have gotten as far as the door.

  A smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he combed his hand through her hair. “Got it all figured out, do you?”

  “Uh-huh. Except for one part.” She looked up at him. “I don’t know how to get you to say you love me.” She wanted to hear him say it while he was looking at her, not murmur it to the wind when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked her softly.

  She nodded. “To hear it. I already feel it.”

  He gathered her into his arms. “I love you, Clancy.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Again.”

  He repeated it a little more forcefully. “I love you, Clancy.”

  She was enjoying this. She’d waited a long time. “Like you mean it.”

  “Like I mean it,” he echoed, then he nibbled a little on her lower lip. The taste of her excited him. “Like I’ve always meant it,” he told her softly. “I know it’s crazy, but marry me, Clancy.”

  There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation. “Yes!”

  Despite everything she’d said, he felt as if he were taking advantage of the situation. “You’re not going to regret this?”

  “Not a chance.” Her arms around his neck, she pressed her body to his and kissed him, long and hard, with a promise of
things to come. “Now take me to bed.”

  Slipping his arm under her legs, he raised her off the floor. “Just what I had in mind.”

  She nestled her head against his shoulder. This was where she belonged. She’d traveled the world extensively as a child and a teenager, and this was the place where she was home. In his arms.

  “What’ll we call the baby?”

  He laughed. She was always so eager to meet life head-on. Thank God.

  “We’ll discuss it in the morning.” He looked into her eyes as he crossed the threshold to her bedroom. “Right now, I’ve got other things on my mind.”

  Innocence colored her features, but her eyes danced. “What?”

  He brought his mouth down to hers. “You, Clancy. Only you.”

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-8810-2

  Brooding Angel

  Copyright © 1995 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.