Strangers in Paradise (39 page)

The child had still focused mainly on Sam's shirt. She'd sat where he put her, making no moves on her own. Except to eat. Sam hadn't had to coax her at all. With her eyes trained on him as usual, she'd dug into the food in front of her and finished every bite. It was a small thing, but to the three adults sitting at the table, who'd been holding their collective breath over every bite of every meal, it seemed a miracle.

“What did the doctor have to say?” Carol asked, her feet tucked under her violet silk lounging gown. Muffy was curled up next to her on the sofa.

Slouching in the overstuffed velvet chair across from his mother, Sam thought back to the conversation he'd had just before dinner. He'd been dying to share it with Cassie. And his parents.

“She said this is the breakthrough we've been waiting for,” he told them. “She used lots of medical jargon, but the gist of it was that once Mariah starts to emerge from this catatonic state, it should be only a matter of time until she's back to normal.”

Sipping from the cup of cocoa she'd made, his mother nodded. Carol Montford, a millionaire many times over, could afford an army of household help, but—other than cleaning and laundry—insisted on doing everything herself. The shopping. The cooking. The dishes. The decorating. And making cocoa. She was addicted to her nightly cup of homemade cocoa.

“She expects full recovery, then?” James asked Sam. He wore his reading glasses, feet up on the footrest of his tipped-back easy chair, but he hadn't opened the book on his lap. He sucked on the pipe he hadn't lit in years.

Sam slid his hand down the leg of his khaki shorts. “According to her, it's very hopeful. But until we know the extent of what Mariah saw—and heard—and the extent of what she might have suffered herself at the hands of those bastards...”

“We've got her now, Sam,” Carol reminded him. “And she's young. In time, those memories will fade.”

Taking a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the sudden tension, Sam sent his mother a grateful smile. “I know.”

Once again he realized that the people of Shelter Valley knew what really mattered in life. While Sam sat there, consumed by the need to murder the men who had tortured and killed his best friends, while he focused on the past and the things he could do nothing to change, his mother homed right in on what was most important—the future. His daughter had been given back her life.

That
was what mattered.

“Oh.” Carol set down her cup. “I almost forgot in all the excitement, but this has truly been a day of happy news.”

“What else happened?” Sam and his father asked together, both relaxing in their chairs, letting the day's events wash over them.

“Ben called this afternoon. He and Tory were just back from the doctor. Tory's pregnant!”

“I'll be damned,” James said, sitting up a little straighter.

Sam grinned, happy for his new cousin. Now that he'd spent a little time with Ben, his cousin was growing on him. Ben had a rough time growing up, from the sound of it, sacrificed a lot. Sam wished him and Tory the best.

“Another Montford,” James said, his pipe in his raised hand as he pondered the good news. “How do you like that, Carol?” He smiled at his wife. “A year ago, we were two lonely old coots thinking we might've seen everything life had to offer—and look at us now. Two sons—” he glanced at Sam “—or damn close to it, two grandkids and another on the way. Goes to show that you can't give up. As long as you're kicking, there could be a surprise waiting around the corner. A surprise of the pleasant variety.”

The intimate look his parents shared could have seemed exclusive, but somehow it didn't make Sam feel shut out. He just felt damn lucky to be sitting there, part of this family. Loved.

“You're right, of course,” Carol said. “As always. Gets a bit hard to take now and then, you know?” she teased, her expression changing to an impish grin. “You always being right, I mean.”

Nearly seventy years old, and looking impish. Sam filed that away. Borough Bantam needed that grin.

“Now, if only I could convince the rest of the world...” James said, pretending to frown as he slipped his pipe back between his teeth.

“You ready for more news?” Carol asked.

“There's more?” Sam asked. James raised his eyebrows.

“There is.” Carol nodded, grinning as she drew out the suspense. “Ben was telling me that Zack and Randi just found out that they're expecting, too.”

“No kidding,” James said contentedly. “Life is good, isn't it, Carol.”

Sam probably would have filed away that reaction, too. But he was trying too hard to keep himself from darting out of his chair and into the night. His mother's last piece of news had made him wonder what was in the air. If babies were contagious.

That fanciful thought led to another—this one much more alarming. He knew how babies were made. And he and Cassie had done a fine job of illustrating that process a couple of weeks before. Without protection of any kind.

He'd been so caught up in all the emotional intensity surrounding that night. And he'd been used to making love to her without thoughts of birth control—after all, ten years ago they'd been hoping for a large family, the sooner the better—that the possibility of a baby hadn't dawned on him until this very moment.

Cassie was as regular as clockwork. Surely she'd have said something if it was the fertile part of her cycle. But there were always other factors to consider. Emotional upsets that changed timing.

He had to get over to her. Talk about that night. About possible repercussions. He had to take full responsibility. Giving her time was no longer an option.

“Think I'll go for a drive, if you two don't mind.” He tried to keep the words casual. He certainly didn't need his parents suspecting anything—not until he'd spoken to Cassie.

He wondered if they could see his heart pounding in his chest.

“Don't hurt her, son.”

James's warning followed him out into the night.

Chapter 15

“Y
ou want to come in and see a movie?” Phyllis asked as Cassie dropped her off after dinner in Phoenix on Friday night.

Cassie shook her head. “Thanks, but I'm in the middle of a dried-flower découpage on my kitchen wall. I want to get the first coat done tonight so it has time to dry before tomorrow.”

Opening the passenger door of Cassie's Taurus, Phyllis said, “Well, dinner was a great idea. Thanks for asking me.”

“Thanks for coming,” Cassie replied. “I really needed to talk.”

Climbing out, Phyllis turned and leaned against the door frame. “Yeah, well, you're also a good listener, Cassie. Do you want to do this again?”

“Are you kidding?” Cassie asked. “I was wondering if next week would be too soon for a repeat performance. There's that new Greek place we passed on the north side of Phoenix.”

“How's Friday night?”

“Great!”

“I'll call you later in the week to set a time,” Phyllis said. Then she added, “You take care, okay?”

Cassie put the car in gear. “I will.”

“Call if you need me....”

Feeling more in control than she had in a long time, Cassie drove home, a Supertramp CD blaring on her stereo.
“Know who you are,”
she sang along.

It was advice she was working on. But not something she was certain she'd ever fully achieve. There were so many facets to life, so many roles to play, so many changes to adjust to—could anyone ever know who he or she really was?

And what about Phyllis? She seemed content with her life, had a meaningful career, was a good friend to so many people in this town. Yet when she'd talked tonight there'd been an underlying emptiness. She might assert that she was happy without a man in her life. But Cassie believed Phyllis wanted to be in a relationship and was scared to death to try again.

And who could blame her? She'd had her heart broken, not because of something she'd done but because of who she
was.

As she considered this, Cassie suddenly frowned. Somebody was sitting on her front steps; she saw him when she passed her house on the way to her driveway. She didn't need to spot Sam's truck out by her garage to know it was him.

She wasn't really surprised. After the breakthrough they'd had with Mariah that afternoon, she'd been half expecting him to show up. Sam never seemed to just pick up a phone.

Now that she thought about it, he'd rarely called her when they were young. He'd always just appeared on her doorstep. Or at her locker, or her softball game, or her pew at church, or the grocery store where she'd worked for a while as a kid...

And she'd always been thrilled to see him.

But as she'd said before,
that was then.
This was now.

“How is she?” she asked in lieu of hello. She walked around to her front porch, joining him on the steps.

He was still wearing the shorts and white polo shirt he'd had on that afternoon. Cassie, having changed for her trip to Phoenix, felt overdressed by comparison in her form-fitting, short navy dress.

“She's asleep,” Sam said. “But she ate every bite of her dinner.”

“Did you talk to her doctor?”

Sam nodded, then gave Cassie a full report. Although he remained noticeably happy about the day's events, he seemed to have something else on his mind. He wasn't really meeting her eyes, was spending more time looking at the palm leaf between his fingers than at her.

He was making Cassie nervous.

“Did Mariah say any more?”

Sam shook his head. “Not yet, but it'll come.”

Gazing out over her yard, Cassie said softly, “Be prepared. When she does start talking, I suspect she'll have some pretty horrible stories to tell.”

“She may not remember them.” But his protest was half-hearted.

“She remembers, Sam. You just have to look at that solemn little face to know.”

He didn't argue.

The night air was hot—hotter than usual for May. Cassie felt a drop of sweat trickle between her breasts. Why was Sam just sitting here?

She wasn't going to invite him in. She couldn't.

“We need to talk, Cassie,” he finally said, his voice firm.

“Okay.” She wasn't sure what he thought they had to talk about. They'd already been over things. Gotten nowhere.

“Zack and Randi are expecting a baby.”

“I know.” The two of them had been like kids when they'd come in to tell Cassie the day before. She'd been the first to know.

And she'd been so happy for them, she'd worn a smile for the rest of the day. Right up until she'd come home last night...and remembered that she would never again know the joy of having a life growing inside her. Would never again experience that sweet anticipation Zack and Randi were now sharing. Never know the wonder of—

“Ben and Tory are expecting, too.”

“No kidding!” She hadn't heard that. But she was happy for them, too. If anyone deserved a miracle, it was Tory Sanders. Cassie really admired the woman. Coming from an abusive past involving both her stepfather and her first husband, she'd managed to retain a sense of self—and an ability to love.

“We have to talk, Cassie.”

He'd already said that.

She waited. And suddenly wished she hadn't eaten that order of honey chicken for dinner.

“When's your next period?”

Cassie choked on the breath she'd been sucking in. “Excuse me?”

“Have you had one since I was here last?”

“Nooo.” Like it was any of his business anymore.

Then it dawned on her where he was going.

“I didn't even think to use protection that night, Cass. Did you?” He turned his head, trying to meet her eyes in the glow from the streetlight.

Cassie looked away. “I didn't think at all that night.”

“So we could be expecting, too.”

“We aren't.” Staring into the night, she had a sudden urge to run. To lose herself in the darkness. “If that's why you're worried, don't be.”

Dropping the palm leaf, Sam threaded his fingers, elbows on his knees. “You just said you haven't had a period yet.”

“I haven't, but...” Cassie searched for something to convince him. “The timing's not right.” Something aside from the truth. She wasn't ready for that.

“So you'll be starting some time this next week?”

Okay, sure. “I guess.” Since Emily, she hadn't been regular.

“And what if you don't?”

Cassie pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them. She could think of only one conversation that could be worse. The one where he found out what he'd really left behind ten years ago.

“Then I'll have it the week after that,” she snapped. Discussing her personal functions with him was far too intimate.

But more frightening was the direction in which they were heading. She had to tell him sometime. Not because he had a right to know; he'd lost that right when he'd abandoned her.

She needed him to know for
her.
So
she
could leave it all behind and move on for good. Her talks with Phyllis—and with Zack—had helped her see that. But she needed more time—

“And what if you don't?” Sam's voice broke into her thoughts.

“Don't what?”

“Have your period the week after that.”

“Don't worry, I'll have it.”

His hands still clasped in front of him, staring out at the street, Sam said, “I think we should get married.”

“What?”
Her voice was much louder than she'd intended.

“You might be pregnant, Cassie. I think we should get married.”

He'd lost his mind.

Or she had.

“We've already done that. It's not something I care to repeat.”

And yet...she did. Marriage to Sam was all she'd ever wanted. The Sam she'd seen these past weeks, loving his daughter, his parents. Doing little things to make her life easier. Appreciating the people of Shelter Valley. Playing basketball with his cousin, and her best friends.

It was the other parts of him that she couldn't bring herself to love again. He'd been unfaithful to her. Left her alone to deal with the birth—and death—of their child. How did a woman ever forget that? Or forgive it?

“We still love each other, Cassie,” he said now. She could hear the frustration creeping into his voice.

She opened her mouth to deny what he'd said. Except that she couldn't. The night they'd made love again had made it impossible to deny that Sam still had power over her heart.

And he knew that, dammit.

“I'm not marrying you again.”

“I'm not giving up on us.”

Stalemate.

“Go home, Sam,” Cassie said wearily. “You've got Mariah to concentrate on right now. She needs you.”

“She needs you, too.”

Cassie wasn't so sure about that. “It was Sammie she spoke to,” she reminded him. “Which is something I've been meaning to talk to you about. Now that she's beginning to recover, you really should get her a dog of her own. One she knows is hers, part of her family, sharing her daily life. The sooner the better. Before she gets too attached to Sammie.”

“Mightn't it already be too late?” Sam asked. She could see his brow crease in the dim light.

Cassie shook her head. “I don't think so. She's hardly even looked at Sammie. Right now, Sammie's just a dog. I don't think the particulars mattered. But they probably will from now on.”

He turned his head toward her again. “You know anyone who might have a puppy for us, Doc?”

“I just might.” Cassie folded her hands, clenching them to stop their trembling. “The litter my puppy's coming from is just being weaned. The puppies should be ready to leave their mother by next week. Last I heard, there was still one available. I can get you the owner's number on Monday, if you'd like.”

“Thanks.” And then he added, “You think Muffy'll be okay with another dog around?”

“Her nose might be out of joint for the first while, but as long as she still gets lots of attention, she'll probably just take the little one under her wing.”

Silence fell, each of them staring out at the empty street. The family in the house across from hers went to bed. Cassie watched their upstairs lights go out, one by one.

Would Sam leave now?

“If you're pregnant, we should get married right away.” Sam's low voice was startling in the silence.

Cassie swallowed. If he kept this up forever, could she keep fighting him forever? Did she have any other choice?

“I'm not going to marry you again.”

“If you're pregnant—”

“I'm not pregnant,” she interrupted sharply.

He turned to face her, his hand brushing her cheek briefly before dropping against his knee. “You don't know that for sure, Cass. If—”

“I do know for sure, Sam.” She bit the words out. Whether she was ready or not, she couldn't keep this in anymore. “In fact, I couldn't be more sure.”

He frowned, his head tilted as he tried to read the expression she was trying just as hard to hide. “What do you mean by that?”

“I can't have children, Sam,” she said through gritted teeth. “Ever.” All the agony she'd been struggling to subdue rose up to choke her. Telling Sam made it...final.

Because Sam was the only man she wanted to have a baby with.

Bitter tears spilled down her cheeks, and as Sam reached over to wipe them away with the pad of his thumb, Cassie bowed her head. She couldn't share even her tears with him. Couldn't have him trying to make it better.

He was ten years too late.

* * *

Sam froze, his hand suspended above Cassie's bent head, staring at her. She wasn't making any sense.

“Run that by me again?” He hadn't meant to whisper, but that was how the words came out.

“I can't have children.”

Oh, God. Cassie infertile? That news must have killed her. Cassie had always wanted babies of her own. Sam ached for her.

“Why not?” His throat was dry.

“Scarring.”

She was still crying. He could hear the tears in her voice. And felt so helpless. How could he fix this one?

“Scarring where? From what?” Maybe there was a specialist somewhere. They had the money; there had to be some way to help her.

But if this horrible thing was true, he now understood the emptiness he'd sensed in Cassie's life. In her heart. It wasn't just a matter of regaining her trust. This was much bigger. Much worse. She might still love him, but would that be enough? Marriage without the children she'd always wanted. Was this why she couldn't contemplate marrying again? Couldn't marry him—or anyone.

Were they destined to a life apart, after all, no matter how deeply they loved each other? Sam didn't want to believe that.

He'd asked about the scarring. She hadn't answered his question.

“Scarring from what, Cassie? How long ago? With all of today's new technologies—laser surgery and so on—maybe there's something that can be done.”

Cassie's head shot up, her gaze locking with his, and Sam felt the shock of that look deep inside him. They weren't in this together. He was the enemy.

“It was ten years ago,” she said, her voice hard, accusing. “And the scarring...was caused by...the problems I had when I—” She stopped, took a breath shuddering with sobs. “When I gave birth to our daughter.”

Sam's heart stopped beating. He stared at her, numb. Her blunt words slammed into him over and over again.

This wasn't happening. This whole nightmare just wasn't happening.

He was vaguely aware of Cassie crying beside him, could feel her body next to him, shaking with sobs. Instinctively, he reached out to put his arm around her. To pull her close while they figured out what to do.