Fool Me Once (26 page)

“Yes,
he did mention it. Could you possibly stop by around eleven this morning? The
rest of my day is rather full, I’m afraid.”

“Of
course.”

He
provided the address and she hung up. She had no idea what she expected to
accomplish, but at this point she was operating on instinct. She dressed
carefully. If she were to go down in flames, at least she’d look good doing it.

* * *

Colin’s
office, while not luxurious, was tastefully appointed. Offering his hand, he
smiled graciously, and asked her if she’d like a cup of tea.

“No
thank you,” she replied, feeling slightly uneasy under the scrutiny of the
piercing green eyes across the desk. Colin Chisholm didn’t miss much.

“I’ve
given your proposal a great deal of thought.” He steepled his fingers.
“Although I’m sure you’d do justice to the story, I’m afraid I have to ask you
not to write it.”

She
regarded him coolly. “You sound like my editor.”

He
blinked twice. “I hope that’s a compliment.”

“I
suppose it is. You see, he can be ruthless as well.” She watched his reaction
for any flicker of discomfort. There was none. “As you can tell, I don’t mind
about the story. I had already decided that the article would be so severely
edited that there wouldn’t be much of a story left.”

“You’re
right about that I’m afraid. It would have been heavily censored.” He spread
his palms. “In that case, why are you here?”

She
couldn’t meet his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know.” This wasn’t going quite the way
she’d imagined. But then she hadn’t imagined that she’d be tongue-tied, either.
She’d never get answers to her questions this way.

“That’s
not quite true,” she blurted out. “I do know why I’m here.” She squared her
shoulders. “Tell me one thing. What criteria do you use in choosing the men for
each mission? For example, how did you choose Josh Morgan?” She mentally
applauded herself for saying his name without choking. “Why did you put him on
this particular job? Was it because you needed a sexy, good-looking man with
attitude to sweep me off my feet?” She was gathering steam. “You intentionally
sent him to find me and romance me. And all because my roommate in Switzerland
was Eliska Blazek. You used me, Mr. Chisholm, and Josh Morgan used me.”

He
regarded her calmly. “You’re right, of course.” Taking a deep breath, he
hunched forward on his desk and his bearing changed. He radiated intensity.
“You’re a journalist Miss MacMillan and a rather good one, so I’m going to be
perfectly blunt. Unlike most of your readers, you’ve seen first-hand how
innocent people suffer because of men like Jiri Blazek. You try to describe the
horror of it, but not even someone as talented as you can portray the shameful
waste of life you saw in Afghanistan. Every conflict in the area is the same.”
He paused. “Perhaps I should say they have the same results.”

“Neither
our allies nor ourselves can win this war on terror by walking around on our
tiptoes. Hurting your feelings is regrettable, but it’s nothing compared with
what’s at stake. I’d do it again if it would have the same result. It’s that
simple.”

She
nodded her understanding but she wasn’t giving up that easily. “I can accept
that. But why couldn’t you tell me about Blazek? What you did was
unconscionable. To have Josh pretend that he cared for me, to use me in such a
demeaning fashion. How could he do it? That’s what I really want to know.”

He
lifted an eyebrow and Olivia was sure she detected a hint of amusement. “He was
under no obligation to pretend that he cared for you. He told you about his
mission, and you agreed to carry on. The deception was in not telling you about
Blazek. We did that for your own safety and it turns out we were right. Things
could have been much worse if you’d known more.” He sobered. “We had no idea
you’d be put in harm’s way. I personally regret that very much.”

“I
don’t know if I was ever in any real danger, but thank you for saying that.”
She sank back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. “I don’t know why I came
here or what I expected to learn. I suppose I just wanted to know why he did it
in the first place.”

Colin
looked at her curiously. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know
what?”

He
checked his watch. “Do you have time for lunch? I’d like to tell you a story.”

* * *

Colin
spoke eloquently about Josh’s dedication to his younger brother, writing an
entirely new chapter in the story of this remarkable man.

“…and
for the past several years, since his brother was killed, he’s been closed off.
He hasn’t talked about Zach to anyone, not even the couple on the ranch who
have been with his family for years.”

“Maisie
and Clint have been with the family for over thirty years,” Olivia murmured,
half to herself. “They care about him a lot.”

Colin
nodded. “But I haven’t answered your question yet. You asked how Morgan was
chosen.” He examined his beer glass without really seeing it, his gaze turned
inward. “When he was with the American Special Forces, he was the best at what
he did. Of course all the Yanks are superbly trained, but Morgan really stood
out.” He smiled guiltily. “And he had quite a reputation with the ladies, I
hear.”

Olivia
rolled her eyes, but managed to hold her tongue.

He
continued. “We’re always looking for the outstanding ones. Men who can think on
their feet; men who are fearless.”

“He
certainly qualifies in that department.”

Colin
ignored the sarcasm. “He agreed to a television interview when his brother was
killed. To the best of my knowledge, it’s the last time he spoke to anyone
about Zach. I saw that interview, read up on his background, and knew he was
the man for this job.” He pinned her with his gaze. “You see, it’s very simple.
This mission was his way of avenging his brother’s death.”

Awareness
dawned slowly in Olivia’s eyes. “Now I remember. We were in the helicopter.”
Her voice took on a faraway tone. “Josh pulled the trigger, or whatever it is
you do to those rocket launcher things, and his lips moved. I’ve been trying to
recall what he said but it was always right out there.” She wiggled her fingers
in the air. “Just beyond my grasp. But now I remember. He said ‘That’s for you,
Zach’.”

She
stared into the cup of coffee that sat before her, untouched. Fascinated by
Colin’s story, she’d ignored her lunch. Colin watched her face as the pieces of
the puzzle finally slid into place. Frowning, she pressed her fingers into her
temples.

“My
Lord, I’ve been selfish! I’ve been carrying on as though this whole thing was
about me.” She dropped her hands onto the table and toyed with the coffee cup.
“How could I? I overheard a conversation between Dirk and Josh and walked out
without a word.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. And in the middle of
the night, too.”

“I
know.”

“You
do?” She pulled back.

“They
have phones in Montana. Josh called me last night.”

“What
did he say?”

He
looked at her steadily. “Private conversation.”

“You’re
a wretched man, Colin Chisholm.” She smiled.

“So
I’ve been told,” he said smoothly, taking her arm. “I have to get back to work,
but there’s one more thing I should tell you. It’s about Rosalina.”

“Rosalina?
How is she?” Olivia fingered her favorite necklace.

“We’ve
taken care of our little heroine in the best way we can. It turns out she was
living with her grandmother, who is very ill. It seems that Rosalina has a
desire to get an education and to learn to speak English. Through our Spanish
contacts we’ve arranged medical care for her grandmother, and for little
Rosalina to live with a local family. She’ll be starting her lessons almost
immediately.”

Tears
welled up in Olivia’s eyes. “Colin, that’s wonderful. Thank you very much.”

“It
was Josh’s idea.” He proffered his hand and she took it reluctantly. He was her
connection to Josh and she didn’t want to let him go. “Good-bye Olivia.” Those
piercing green eyes looked into her soul. “Good luck.”

* * *

Olivia
waved down a cab, gave the WorldView address and climbed in the back, her head
spinning with Colin’s revelations. What she’d learned about Josh’s brother
caused her to look at the past week in an entirely different way. She looked
out at the traffic swirling by and wondered idly why she didn’t feel happier.
All she felt was a dull ache, and a growing realization that Josh couldn’t
possibly love her, as she’d come to hope. How could she have deceived herself
so easily? Much as she hated to admit it, she could come to only one
conclusion. If he loved her, he would have spoken about his brother. He would
have shared the agony he’d been carrying around since Zach’s death. After all,
wasn’t love about sharing the sorrow as well as the joy?

She
understood now why he’d been so passionate about the mission. It would have
meant everything to share that with him, but he’d kept her at arm’s length. The
taxi turned the corner by her office and she gave an audible sigh. Perhaps Josh
was one of those men who, once scarred, closed themselves off from further
emotional involvement. If that was true, perhaps she’d been right to run away
from him. But if she was right, why did she feel so miserable?

The
familiarity of the office was surprisingly comforting.

“Hi
Mac.” The political correspondent to her left greeted her brightly. “How was
the holiday?”

Olivia
put on her game face. “I had a great time.” She nodded toward the glass
enclosure. “Is No Jive around?”

“No,
thank God.” He reached for his telephone. “He won’t be back until Monday.
Sorry, love.”

Olivia
nodded and leafed dejectedly through her mail. A shiny postcard slid out of the
stack and landed on the desk. She turned it over, and a puzzled frown drew her
brows together. Her name and address were in a vaguely familiar script. The
left side of the card, reserved for a message, was blank. She turned it over,
and it took a moment for the image to register. A smiling child sat with a
spoon poised above a bowl of ice cream drenched with chocolate syrup. The
message was unmistakable. “Oh, Eliska,” she murmured. “You made it.” She looked
at the postmark and a smile of satisfaction lit her face. Auckland, New
Zealand. Eliska had found a new home and she was happy. Now Olivia hoped that a
visit to her parents’ home in the Cotswolds would work its usual magic on her
battered spirits.

* * *

Her
mother was out when she arrived. She picked up the telephone to tell Justine
she was back, but changed her mind. A slow, rambling walk next door was just
what she needed.

* * *

“Olivia.
We didn’t expect you until tomorrow.” Alex’s mother looked up and waved her
into the kitchen.

“Hello
Mrs. Melrose. I stopped by to see if there is anything I can do, but you look
organized to me. Haversham Hall looks even more beautiful than usual.”

“Why
thank you, my dear. Wine?” Daphne poured for Olivia and topped up her own
glass. “Justine and Alex have gone into town for a drink. They’re remarkably
relaxed, considering they’re getting married in two days.” She eyed Olivia
critically. “You look thin, Olivia. Are you well?”

“Never
better” she replied, almost too quickly. She fought back the tears that hovered
right behind her eyes. Happiness permeated Haversham Hall. She could sense it
in the lingering smells of baking, and in the rich sheen of polished wood.
Antique silver gleamed, and everywhere she looked, flower arrangements
overflowed from sparkling crystal vases. It was a home ready to celebrate.

“It’s
good to see you again, but I should be getting back. Tell Justine I’m sorry I
missed her, and that I’ll see her at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow evening.”
She gulped her wine and set down the glass. She had to escape.

* * *

The
rehearsal dinner went off without a hitch, although Olivia merely went through
the motions. Her body might have been in England, but her thoughts and her
heart were in Montana. Colin’s revelations had hurt, but over the past couple
of days she’d come to the realization that she could forgive Josh anything. But
could he bring himself to open up? Without that, there was no hope for them.

* * *

The
wedding passed in a blur. Olivia was quite sure she’d said all the right
things, smiled at all the right times. The couple posed for pictures one last
time, happiness shimmering about them and their smiles as bright and genuine as
when they exchanged their vows. Olivia eased her way through the crowd of
guests, eager to be out of the spotlight.

“Wait!”
Someone clutched at her arm. “She’s going to throw her bouquet.”

Olivia
turned, and Justine looked directly at her. With a small shake of her head, she
tried to warn her friend, but the bride’s eyes sparkled with mischief. The
bouquet sailed toward her and the crowd seemed to part. Olivia threw up her
hands in protest, and the bouquet landed in them, ribbons fluttering gaily
around her head. A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd, and then the
guests surged around the bride and groom, eager to wish them well and see them
on their way.