A Woman's Heart (8 page)

Fear shafted through her.

"I'll find out," he promised, "whatever it is." He glanced up at the sky, his gaze now holding the same fire as the heaven's light. "Besides," he went on, "you can't capture a sunset with photographs."

"What do you mean?" she stammered.

"Look at it."

It was easier to look at the sky than to look at Peter. She couldn't risk that with this inexplicable heat invading her body.

"Within seconds," Peter said, "it'll be different. If you look away, you'll miss it." He sounded as certain of this as though it had happened to him.

The sky was immense and they were nothing, yet it felt as though the man beside her had woven a spell around the three of them, had turned their blanket into a haven. As if they belonged together, and were one with the oncoming night.

But that was false. She couldn't let him in or he would rip her world apart.

Only Alex belonged with her, and she with him.

Somewhere down the beach a ukulele tinkled, then another, and another. Hawaiian voices, so sweet Jann's throat ached, rose up in song.

The notes soared, then fell, then soared again, twisting and twining in a rhythm as ancient as time, singing a farewell to this day and a blessing on the next.

Jann took hold of Alex's hand and gently stroked his palm. Even in his sleep, his fingers grasped hers with the instinct of the newborn.

Her hand tightened protectively around his smaller one. She had promised Claire she would care for Alex and she wasn't about to break that promise. Peter didn't love this child as she did and all the money and security in the world couldn't make up for that.

"It's like a promise."

She looked at Peter, stunned. "What do you mean?" Was he reading her mind again?

"When the sky looks like that..."

But he wasn't looking at the sky now. He was looking at her. She could drown in eyes like his as easily as in the ocean.

"...it's as though the pain you feel today is over and will never come back. It almost makes you believe in promises."

Her pulse faded to nothing. "I've always believed in promises." She stared into his eyes as deeply as she dared. "Especially the ones I make."

Chapter 5

Jann's head sank lower and lower until her chin brushed the top of her handlebars. Her legs pumped rapidly, her thigh muscles screaming for relief. Sweat dripped from her face and she could barely feel the pressure of the pedals on her feet, they spun so rapidly around the shaft.

It felt good when she could move like this, streaking along as fast as her muscles would allow. She could forget about Peter Strickland then and the knot now permanently lodged in her throat.

There was a man sitting on Claire's bench.

Her fingers tightened convulsively on her handbrakes and the bike stopped so suddenly she had to lower her feet to steady herself.

It was Peter. There was no escaping him. He was everywhere; on her boat, in her thoughts, in the shape of Alex's eyes... and now here.

But he hadn't seen her yet. Maybe she could simply head back to the boat. Maybe.... No, he'd be there shortly anyway, as he had been every morning for the past six days, every morning since their trip to Sunset Beach.

Filling Jann with fear. For Alex had become more and more enamored of his uncle as each day passed, judging Peter by some curious baby standard and finding him perfect.

She slowly placed her feet back on the pedals. If Peter's intention was to wear her down, he was succeeding.

She pedaled closer, was almost upon him before he looked up. She stifled a gasp. Peter's skin seemed too tight for his face and his lips were a mere line in his face. For one long endless moment, he simply stared at her, his eyes blank and unseeing. Then, as though mustering the determination from somewhere deep within, he rearranged his features into a tight-lipped smile.

Resting her feet uncertainly on either side of her bicycle, Jann remained where she was, fighting again the overwhelming inclination to flee.

That he was in pain was obvious. What she should do about it, she didn't know.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked.

"I ride by here every day," Jann mumbled, slowly getting off her bike and laying it down on the grass. She moved toward the bench and sat down.

"That's right," he said bitterly, "this is where you met Claire."

"Yes," Jann answered, touched by the grief written on his face. "Were you thinking about her just now?"

He didn't answer, but his eyes were too bright. Then even as she watched, that trace of vulnerability disappeared.

"Were you with her when she died?" he asked.

The nightmare of Claire's death flooded straight from Jann's heart to her brain. Her face drained of heat and Peter's face looked every bit as bad. His eyes burned like two lanterns in the night, locking her gaze to his and refusing to let go.

"Tell me what happened," he demanded hoarsely.

Sympathy surged through her. It seemed to have cost Peter everything to ask, as it had cost her everything to watch.

"Just days after Alex was born," Jann began, hugging herself with her arms, her body suddenly chilled, "Claire got a headache." More than a mere headache. It had been as if her friend's head had been put in a vise and squeezed.

"I was staying with her at her apartment to help with Alex," Jann continued, not wanting to remember, but unable to forget. "I wanted to call the doctor, but Claire refused to let me. She insisted it was only a touch of the flu. She said she'd had enough of doctors during her pregnancy."

"She never liked going to the doctor," Peter said tonelessly. "Even as a child."

"Her headache got worse. By the third day, she couldn't even get out of bed. She still refused to see the doctor, seemed afraid of what he'd say." Helplessness flooded over Jann, a feeling as sharp now as it had been the day Claire died.

"You should have made her go," Peter accused.

"I know that now." Jann rubbed one hand along her icy arm. "In the end, I called Ruby and the Capt'n. Ruby was a nurse before she and the Capt'n retired. They stayed with the baby and I was able to convince Claire to come with me to the hospital." She stopped, unable for a moment to go on. "But I should have called the doctor sooner." She lowered her gaze. "I was afraid."

Peter grasped her arm. She stared at the place where his hand burned her skin, his fingers like rings of fire while the rest of her froze.

"The doctor examined Claire," she finally continued, her lips barely moving, "then they whisked her away." She looked again at Peter, praying he would understand.

"They wouldn't let me see her or tell me anything about her condition for hours." Her throat thickened and her words died. It had been the same when her parents had been in the hospital.

"Tell me the rest of it," Peter commanded, still holding onto her arm, seeming intent on wrenching the story from her by force if he had to.

But there was no need to force anything. If he wanted this story, he could have it. She wanted only to forget. Maybe once it was out, she would. Swallowing hard, she tried again.

"When they let me in to see her, I... I'd never seen anyone look so pale." Certainly not Claire, with her brown skin and the brilliant eyes she shared with her son and brother.

She'd been reluctant at first to speak, but now the words wouldn't stop. "They said Claire had a blood clot in the brain. They wouldn't say how she got it." Jann's voice faded. "I guess they didn't know."

"What did they do for her?" Peter asked fiercely.

"They couldn't do anything. The clot was in an impossible location. They couldn't operate. We could only pray it wouldn't move." She bleakly met Peter's gaze. "But it did."

With a suddenness that stunned, he let go of her arm. Staring down at where his fingers had been, Jann felt inexplicably bereft.

"Then what happened?" He stared at the ocean, sitting so still he seemed scarcely alive.

"Nothing right away. Claire lived for a couple more days after the doctors diagnosed what was wrong. They gave her medicine for her pain." Staring at Peter's profile, Jann wished her words could be different. "The pain in her head, that is. There was nothing they could do about the pain in her heart."

Muscles twitched along Peter's jaw line, but he made no other movement.

"What about Alex?" he finally asked.

Tears welled in Jann's eyes. "I brought him in every day to see his mother. Ruby came too, so that she could take Alex home again while I stayed with Claire. She tried to be cheerful while Alex was with her. She was so brave."

"Claire was always brave."

"But sometimes... when I caught her unawares, her face was..." Jann took hold of the bench armrest, clinging to what was left of her swiftly-fleeing control. "When I came home to Alex at night," she continued, starting in a different place, "I would hold him. I told myself it was for him, but..." She gave a helpless shrug. "I guess I needed his hugs as much as he did mine."

"And then?" Peter faced her again, seemed to steel himself to bear the truth.

She lifted her hands then let them fall into her lap with a thud. "Claire died," she whispered.

The silence following her words seemed to last an eternity.

"Were you with her?" he finally asked, as he had asked once before, but this time his voice rasped like a file over metal.

"Yes." A single tear trickled down Jann's cheek. Then, as though a dam had broken, the trickle turned into a flood.

The sob erupting from her breast had to be coming from someone else. She didn't cry. Not anymore. But one sob followed another, until she couldn't breathe. All she could do was feel and the feeling was one great blanket of pain.

Dimly, she felt Peter take hold of her shoulders and pull her towards him, until she sank against his body like a ship at anchor, powerless to stop swaying with the tide.

His breath warmed her cheek and his arms warmed her body, holding her safe within their circle. His was human warmth, warmth of the living. Somehow it managed to push back the agony she'd been fighting since the night her friend had died, pushed back her dread that Alex would be next just because she loved him.

As she had loved Claire. And her own parents.

The warmth moved inward through her skin until it touched her soul, and for one glorious moment she felt at peace.

She sat as still as she was able, for if she moved, the spell might vanish. Peter's heart thumped against her cheek, the sound of it loud, so reassuringly there. It seemed incredible that this man, whom she'd thought so dangerous, was so undeniably safe.

She lifted her head and looked at him, the slight stubble on his chin grazing her forehead. A tremor went through her that he seemed to feel, also, for he looked down at her and the expression in his eyes softened.

At the sight of Peter's lips, so warm, full and close, her lips parted. For an instant only, his lips touched hers, long enough to comfort, and then deny.

Sucking in a ragged breath, Jann pulled away.

He straightened, also, seeming to turn inward, away from her, separate.

After a very long moment he spoke to her again. "Why didn't you notify me when Claire was taken ill?" His voice cracked as he spoke as though from disuse.

Jann shivered, feeling as bad again now as she had before. She had intended to phone Boston, to contact the scratched-out number she could barely distinguish in Claire's address book.

But Claire had said no, had in fact screamed it long and frighteningly. Jann and Ruby had stared at each other helplessly, amazed at Claire's vocal and insistent refusal to contact her brother. And at the time, they hadn't realized it would matter. They had never imagined that three days later, Claire would be dead.

It mattered now.

"Claire didn't want us to," Jann explained, the words sounding ridiculous, the pain in Peter's eyes rubbing her heart to the quick.

"Didn't want you to?" he demanded incredulously. "Surely she was past knowing what she wanted?"