by Nora Roberts
“I’m sorry,” Naomi said when she came in moments later. “This is an emotional time for Gertie. It must make you uncomfortable.
“It’s all right.” Kelsey sipped her tea. Oolong this time, she noted with a tiny smile. Understanding, Naomi laughed.
“Just my subtle sense of humor.” She poured herself a cup, then sat. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”
“Neither was I. I’m not sure I would have, at least so soon, if Grandmother hadn’t all but forbade me to.”
“Ah, Milicent.” Trying to relax, Naomi stretched out her long legs. “She always detested me. Well,” she said, and shrugged, “it was mutual. Tell me, have you been able to satisfy her high standards?”
“Not quite.” Kelsey’s smile came and went. It felt disloyal to discuss her grandmother.
“Family honor,” Naomi said, nodding. “You’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t goad you into criticizing Milicent. Besides, I’m not the one who should be asking the questions.”
“How can this be so easy for you?” Kelsey set down her cup with a snap of china against china. “How can you sit there so calmly?”
“I learned a great deal about taking what comes when I was in prison. You have the reins here, Kelsey. I’ve had a lot of time to think this through, and I had to promise myself before I contacted you that I would accept whatever happened.”
“Why did you wait so long? You’ve been out of prison for . . .”
“Twelve years, eight months, ten days. Ex-cons are more obsessive than ex-smokers, and I’m both.” She smiled again. “But that doesn’t answer your question. I considered contacting you the day I got out. I even went to your school. Every day for a week I sat in my car across the street and watched you in the little playground. Watched you and the other girls watching the boys and pretending not to. Once I even got out of my car and started across the street. And I wondered if you’d smell prison on me. I could still smell it on myself.”
Naomi moved her shoulders, chose a cookie. “So, I got back in my car and drove away. You were happy, you were secure, you didn’t know I existed. Then my father became ill. The years passed, Kelsey. Every time I thought about picking up the phone or writing a letter or just walking back into your life, it seemed wrong.”
“Why now?”
“Because it seemed right. You’re not so happy, not so secure, and I thought it was time you knew I existed. Your marriage is over, you’re at a crossroads. Perhaps you don’t think I can understand how you feel, but I do.”
“You know about Wade.”
“Yes. And your job, your academic career. You’re fortunate you inherited your father’s brain. I was always a lousy student. If you don’t want the cookies, stick a few in your purse, will you? Gertie will never know the difference.”
With a sigh, Kelsey picked one up and took a bite. “I don’t know how to feel about all of this. I don’t know how to feel about you.”
“Reality is rarely like those big, emotional reunions on Oprah,” Naomi commented. “Long-lost mother reunited with daughter. All is forgiven. I’m not asking for all to be forgiven, Kelsey. I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance.”
Kelsey reached for the file she’d set beside her on the sofa. “I’ve done some research.”
The hell, Naomi decided, and reached for another cookie. “I thought you might. Newspaper articles on the trial?”
“Among other things.”
“I can arrange for you to have a transcript.”
Kelsey’s fingers faltered on the file. “A transcript?”
“I’d want one if I were in your place. It’s public record, Kelsey. If I had something to hide, I couldn’t.”
“When I came here before, I asked if you were guilty and you said yes.”
“You asked if I’d killed Alec, and I said yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d claimed self-defense?”
“What difference does it make? I was convicted. I paid my debt to society, and I am, according to the system, rehabilitated.”
“Was it a lie, then? Was it a legal maneuver when you said you’d shot him to protect yourself from rape?”
“The jury thought so.”
“I’m asking you,” Kelsey shot back, firing up. “A simple yes or no.”
“Taking a life isn’t simple, whatever the circumstances.”
“And what were they? You let him into your house, into your bedroom.”
“I let him into my house,” Naomi said evenly. “He came into my bedroom.”
“He was your lover.”
“No, he was not.” Hands icily calm, Naomi poured more tea. “He might have been eventually. But I hadn’t slept with him.” Her gaze met her daughter’s. “The jury didn’t believe that, either. I was attracted to him. I thought he was a charming fool, harmless and amusing.”
“You fought with him over another woman.”
“I’m territorial,” Naomi said blithely. “He was supposed to be madly in love with me—which meant I was allowed to flirt and he wasn’t. And because he was beginning to bore and annoy me, I decided to break off the relationship. Alec didn’t want it to be broken. So we had a scene, in public. Then another one later, in private. He was furious, called me a few names, tried to make his case with some rough handling. I didn’t care for it and ordered him to leave.”
Though she fought to keep it calm, her voice shook as the night flooded back. “Instead, he followed me upstairs and called me several more names, and got quite a bit rougher. Apparently he decided he would show me what I’d been missing by forcing me into bed. I was angry, and I was afraid. We struggled, and I realized he would do exactly what he’d threatened to do. I broke away, got my gun. And I shot him.”
Without a word, Kelsey flipped open the file and took out the copy of the newspaper photo. When Naomi took it only a quick spasm at the side of her mouth betrayed any emotion.
“Not terribly flattering to either of us, is it? But then, we didn’t know we had an audience.”
“He isn’t touching you. He has his hands up.”
“Yes. I guess you had to be there.” She handed the photo back. “I’m not asking you to believe me, Kelsey. Why should you? Whatever the circumstances, I’m not blameless. But I’ve paid. Society has given me another chance. That’s all I’m asking you to do.”
“Why did you let me think you were dead? Why did you allow that?”
“Because I felt I was. Part of me was. And whatever my crimes, I loved you. I didn’t want you to grow up knowing I was in a cage. I couldn’t have survived those ten years thinking of that. And I needed to survive.”
There were other questions, dozens of them swirling around in Kelsey’s head like bees. But she didn’t think she could bear to hear the answers. “I don’t know you,” she said at last. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel anything for you.”
“Your father would have instilled a sense of duty in you. Certainly Milicent would have. I’m going to use it and ask you to come here, to stay here for a few weeks. A month.”
Kelsey was completely taken aback for a few moments. “You want me to live here?” she finally managed to say.
“An extended visit. A few weeks of your life, Kelsey, for the lifetime I lost.” She didn’t want to beg. God, she didn’t want to beg, but she would if there was no other choice. “It’s selfish of me, and not terribly fair, but I want the chance.”
“It’s too much to ask.”
“Yes, it is. But I’m asking anyway. I’m your mother. You can’t avoid that. You can choose to avoid me if that’s what you want, but I’ll still be your mother. We’ll have time to see if there’s anything between us. If not, you’ll walk away. I’m betting you won’t walk away.” Naomi leaned forward. “What are you made of, Kelsey? Is there enough Chadwick in there for you to accept a dare?”
Kelsey angled her chin. It was a risk. Perhaps she’d needed it to be put that way rather than as a request. “I won’t promise a month. But I’ll come.” She was s
urprised to see Naomi’s lips tremble once before they curved into that cool, steady smile.
“Good. If I can’t enchant you, Three Willows should. We’ll have to see how much you picked up in those riding lessons.”
“I don’t get thrown easily.”
“Neither do I.”
CHAPTER
FOUR
DINNER WITH THE FAMILY WAS A CIVILIZED AFFAIR. EXCELLENT FOOD was served with dignity—like any last meal, Kelsey thought as she spooned up her leek soup. She didn’t want to think of the evening in her father’s house as an obligation, or worse, as a trial, but she knew it was both.
Philip made casual conversation, but his smile was strained. Since Kelsey had told him of her upcoming visit to Three Willows, he’d been able to think of little else but the past. It seemed disloyal somehow to Candace that his mind should be so full of his first wife, his nights restless and disturbed by memories of her. No matter how often he told himself it was illogical, foolish, even indulgent, he couldn’t quite chase away the fear that he was losing the child he’d fought so hard to keep.
A woman now. He had only to look at her to be reminded of that. Yet he had only to close his eyes to remember the girl. And the guilt.
Milicent waited until the roast chicken was served. Normally, she disliked discussing unpleasant matters over a meal. But, as she saw it, she’d been given no choice.
“You leave tomorrow, I’m told.”
“Yes.” Kelsey took a sip from her water glass. Watched the thin lemon slice dip and float. “First thing in the morning.”
“And your job?”
“I’ve resigned.” Kelsey lifted a brow in challenge and acknowledgment. “It was little more than volunteer work. I may look for something at the Smithsonian when I get back.”
“It may be difficult to get anything with your record of coming and going.”
“It may.”
“The Historical Society’s always looking for an extra pair of hands,” Candace put in. “I’m sure I could put in a word for you.”
“Thank you, Candace.” Always the peacemaker, Kelsey thought. “I’ll think about it.”
“Maybe you’ll catch racing fever.” Channing winked at Kelsey. “Buy yourself some stud and make the circuit.”
“That would hardly be acceptable, or wise.” Milicent dabbed a napkin at her lips. “Such things may seem romantic and exciting at your age, Channing, but Kelsey’s old enough to know better.”
“It sounds like a great deal to me, hanging out at the stables, placing a few bets at the track.” He shrugged, making quick work of his dinner. “I wouldn’t mind spending a few weeks playing in the country.”
“You could visit me. It’d be fun.”
“Is that all you can think of?” Incensed, Milicent set her fork down with a clatter. “Fun? Have you no idea what this is doing to your father?”
“Mother—”
But Milicent overrode Philip’s objection with an impatient wave of her hand. “After all the pain and unhappiness we went through, to have that woman simply snap her fingers to make Kelsey come running. It’s appalling.”
“She didn’t snap her fingers.” Under the table, Kelsey balled her hands into fists. It would be much too easy to create a scene, she told herself. “She asked, I agreed. I’m sorry if this hurts you, Dad.”
“My concern’s for you, Kelsey.”
“I wonder . . .” Candace spoke up, hoping to ward Milicent off and salvage some of the evening. “Is it really necessary for you to stay there? It’s only an hour or so away, after all. You could move more slowly, go out on a weekend now and then.” She glanced toward Philip to gauge his reaction, then smiled bolsteringly at Kelsey. “It seems more sensible.”
“If she was sensible, she would never have gone out there.”
Kelsey bit back a sigh at her grandmother’s comment and sat back. “It’s not as if I’ve signed a contract. I can leave at any time. I want to go.” This she addressed to her father. “I want to find out who she is.”
“Sounds natural to me,” Channing said over a bite of chicken. “If I’d found out I had a long-lost mother who’d done time, that’s what I’d do. Did you ask her what it was like inside? I’m a sucker for those women-in-prison movies.”
“Channing.” Candace’s voice was a horrified whisper. “Must you be so crude?”
“Just curious.” He speared a perfectly boiled new potato. “Bet the food sucked.”
Delighted with him, Kelsey let out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to ask her. God, are Channing and I the only ones around here who don’t see this as some drawing-room melodrama? You should be relieved I’m not running traumatized to some therapist or washing my shock away with cheap wine. I’m the one who has to make the adjustments here, and I’m doing the best I can.”
“You’re thinking only of yourself,” Milicent said between stiffened lips.
“Yes, I am. I’m thinking of myself.” Enough was enough, Kelsey decided, and she pushed back from the table. “It might interest you to know that she had nothing but good things to say about you,” she told her father. “There’s no insidious plot to turn me against you. And nothing could.” She walked to him, bending down to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for dinner, Candace. I really have to get home and finish packing. Channing, if you have a free weekend, give me a call. Good night, Grandmother.”
She hurried out. The moment she shut the door behind her, she took a deep gulp of air. It tasted like freedom, she thought. She intended to enjoy it.
In the morning, Gertie met Kelsey at the door. “You’re here.” The woman snatched Kelsey’s suitcases before Kelsey could object. “Miss Naomi’s down to the stables. We didn’t know what time you’d come, so she told me to call her when you got here.”
“No, don’t bother her. I’m sure she’s busy. Let me take those. They’re heavy.”
“I’m strong as an ox.” Gertie backed up, still beaming. “I’ll show you up to your room. You just bring yourself, that’s all.”
She might have been small and thin, but Gertie strode effortlessly up the stairs, chattering. “We got everything ready. It’s good to be busy again. Miss Naomi, she doesn’t take any care at all. Hardly needs me around.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Oh, for company, she does. But she eats like a bird and does for herself mostly before I can do for her.” Gertie led the way down a wide hall, carpeted in faded cabbage roses. “Sometimes she has people over, but not like there once was. Used to be there was always people and parties.”
She stepped across a threshold and set both cases on an elegant four-poster bed.
The room streamed with light from a double window seat that faced the hills, the long slim windows overlooking the gardens. Deep colors and floral accents gave the room an elegant, European feel.
“It’s lovely.” Kelsey stepped to a cherry vanity table where tulips speared up out of fluted crystal. “Like sleeping in a garden.”
“It was your room before. ’Course it was done up different then, all pink and white—like a candy cane.” Gertie gnawed at her lip when she saw the surprise in Kelsey’s eyes. “Miss Naomi said if you didn’t like it, you could take the room across the hall.”
“This is fine.” She waited for a moment, wondering if she’d be bombarded with some sensory memory. But all she felt was curiosity.
“Your bathroom’s through here.” Anxious to please, Gertie opened a door. “You just ask if you need any more towels. Or anything, anything at all. I’ll go call Miss Naomi.”
“No, don’t.” On impulse Kelsey turned away from the suitcases. “I’ll go on down. I can unpack later.”
“I’ll do that for you. Don’t you worry about that. You go on down and have a nice visit, then you can have lunch. You want to button that jacket. The air’s chilly.”
Kelsey fought back a smile. “All right. I’ll be back for lunch.”
“Make your mama come. She needs to eat.”
“I’
ll tell her.” Kelsey left Gertie happily opening the suitcases. It was tempting to do a quick turn around the house, to poke into rooms and explore hallways. But it could wait. The day might have held the chill of the dying winter, but it was gloriously sunny. And, Kelsey hoped as she went out, promising.
She wasn’t going to start the visit by chasing at shadows. It would have to be done, of course. Still, it seemed harmless to enjoy one uncomplicated day in the country, with the smells of hardy spring blooms and new grass in the air, the panorama of hills and horses and sky. She could look on it, at least for now, as a short vacation. Until she’d literally packed her bags, she hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed to get away from the confinement of her apartment, the fill-in job, the tedious routine of learning to be single again.
And here, she thought as she caught the first poignant smell of horse, was something else to be learned, after all. She knew nothing about the racing world, nothing of the people and little of the animals that composed it.
So, she would study and find out. It seemed to follow that the more she discovered, the better she would understand her mother.
As before, there was activity at the stables, horses being walked or washed, men and women carrying tack, hauling wheelbarrows. Kelsey tolerated the sidelong glances and outright stares and walked inside.
A groom was bandaging a mare’s legs in the first box. Kelsey hesitated when he cut his eyes up to hers. His eyes were shadowed under the bill of his cap, and his face was incredibly old, cracked like neglected leather left in the sun.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Ms. Chadwick.”
“Grew up, did ya?” The man shifted a tobacco plug into the pocket of his cheek. “Heard you was coming. There now, sweet thing, hold your water.”
It took Kelsey a moment to realize the last comment was addressed to the mare and not to her. “Is something wrong with her?” Kelsey asked. “The horse?”
“Just a little sprain. Old she is, but still likes to run. You remember the days, don’t you, girl? Won her first race and her last, and a goodly number between. Twenty-five she is. Was a spry young filly when you last saw her.” His grin, mostly toothless, flashed. “Don’t remember, I expect, her nor me. I’m Boggs. Put you up on your first pony. Forget how to ride, have you?”