The Man She Left Behind (30 page)

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Authors: Janice Carter

BOOK: The Man She Left Behind
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“Jamie’s going to the lawyer’s,” Spencer said.
“How do you know that?” Janet asked.
Spencer shook his head. “Ladies, I’m finding this very confusing. Let me explain. I stopped in at your place before noon, Leigh, and Janet told me you’d gone to Hatteras to sign the papers on your house. I decided there was no way I’d let you do that without talking to you first.” He looked up at her, a few steps above him.
When she didn’t reply, he went on, “But when I got to the ferry dock, there was a huge line of traffic waiting to get on. I knew I wouldn’t get on that ferry, so I called home to try and catch Jamie before he came here to clean. That’s when he told me he had to go to Hatteras himself to sign papers. So I knew that either way I’d have to go to Hatteras, but there was time to go back and get Jamie. As I passed Sam’s just now, I noticed Leigh’s car parked on the side of the highway. I couldn’t figure out why she was here, but knew I had to stop her before she went on to Hatteras.”
“How touching,” Janet said. “One would almost think you really loved her.”
Spence placed his foot on the bottom step. “I do love her, Janet.” He shifted his gaze to Leigh. “I’m going to marry her.”
“I don’t think so,” Janet said. “Come up here, though. I want to talk to the man who says he’s going to marry my daughter.”
Leigh held up a palm. “Don’t go up there, Spencer. She’s not my mother.”
Janet shrieked and pulled Leigh backward against the landing. Leigh stumbled and fell onto her back. Spencer charged up the steps to Leigh while Janet rushed into the cottage.
“What the hell’s going on? Are you all right?” He placed an arm underneath Leigh’s head and raised her to a sitting position.
“She’s set a trap in there—for you. A firetrap.”
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when a resonant boom sent a burst of heat through the screen. Flames shot out of Sam’s room. Spencer opened the screen.
“Don’t go in there!” Leigh grabbed his pant leg.
The screaming inside the cottage made him push her aside. Leigh got to her feet to see him grab the afghan from the sofa and throw it over Janet, who was whirling about the living room, her. dress afire. By the time he got Janet on the floor, the flames from Sam’s room were spreading through the open door.
Spencer dragged Janet to the screen door, kicked it open and heaved her onto the landing.
Janet was moaning, “My daughter! Save my daughter.”
Leigh closed her eyes and heard the faint wail of sirens.
 
LEIGH STOOD in the center of the highway, which was partly cordoned off by state troopers, and watched the ambulance door slam shut. She turned away to rest her head on Spencer’s shoulder.
“Sure you’re all right?” he asked.
She merely nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak.
“The paramedic guy said Janet would be all right. The bums aren’t serious.”
She burrowed her face deeper into the hollow between his chest and shoulder, aware of the sounds of movement behind her: the ambulance pulling away, the firefighters raveling hoses back onto their truck, everyone going about his or her tasks silently and efficiently. Some information had already been passed along to the troopers; the rest could be gathered tomorrow, they’d assured Leigh.
Spencer buried his face in her hair. “I love you so much. Gawd, I don’t want to
think
about what might have happened.”
When Leigh pulled her head back to look up into his face, she saw fear in his eyes. “She wouldn’t have hurt me,” she whispered. “Only you.”
Spencer pressed her to him. “It’s all over. Jamie’s waiting for us at my place. Are you ready to go?”
She nodded and let him lead her to his truck. “I’ll pick up your car later.”
“I can do it,” she murmured, climbing into the passenger seat of the pickup.
He shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. I’m taking you home—to my house—and before I tuck you into bed, I’m feeding you a hearty bowl of soup.”
Leigh nodded.
Spencer started the engine, shifted into gear and headed south.
“Did you mean what you said back there?” Leigh asked.
He turned to her, a frown on his face. “About loving you? Gawd, you know I do!”
“No. The other. What you said to Janet—about wanting to marry me.”
The pickup zigzagged momentarily. His answer was a husky whisper. “Damn right I do.” A painful pause. “If you’ll have me.”
Leigh extended her hand to his and squeezed hard. Tears brimmed her eyes. Then she laughed, a hoarse joyful laugh. “Yes, yes, yes!”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
T
HE SCREEN DOOR slammed shut behind Leigh. She hefted the picnic hamper onto one hip while she locked the door with her free hand. Three months ago she wouldn’t have been doing this, she thought.
But life is different now.
Tourist season was winding down in Ocracoke. In mid-September the highway was almost deserted after rush-hour traffic had departed for northbound or mainland ferries. Leigh had no trouble backing onto the road and headed toward the village. She pulled into the parking lot of the Ocracoke general store to buy cold drinks and fresh fruit for lunch.
After the bustle of the summer months, shopping with only a handful of locals was a pleasure. Leigh smiled, realizing she was already starting to think like an islander again. She headed to the cold section at the rear of the store and bumped into Trish Butterfield.
“Congratulations!” the woman cried, giving Leigh an impulsive hug. “Have you set a date yet?”
Everyone else in the store was looking her way and smiling. Leigh knew her face was burning. No such thing
as anonymity in Ocracoke. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Well, not yet. I suggested the spring, but Spencer’s a bit...”
“Impatient?”
Leigh grinned. “That’s an understatement.”
“You can’t blame the man. I mean, he’s been waiting fifteen years.”
“That’s what he says, too.”
“And you want everything to be settled for the winter. It’s been a long time since you’ve gone through an island winter, Leigh. Personally I think early October would be a great time for a wedding.”
“Perhaps.” Leigh shrugged.
Trish ducked her head closer to Leigh’s. “Faye heard through a mutual friend that Janet is much better these days. They’ve put her on a new medication. Doesn’t go off into her imaginary world so often.”
Leigh tensed. She was grateful for the information, but mention of Janet still brought back unpleasant memories. “That’s good to know. And how’s Faye doing?”
“Oh, great. She may come down for Christmas. And what about young Jamie? Will he be here for Christmas?”
“We hope so, but nothing’s definite yet. Jen’s baby is due next month and we’re not sure yet what she’ll want to do. According to the agreement, Jamie is supposed to come every second holiday, and this would be the first. But Spence won’t push it if Jen says she wants Jamie.”
Trish clamped her lips together and shook her head. “Still the same old Jen, wanting to be in control.”
Leigh surprised herself by defending Jen. “I don’t think it’s that, really. She’s going to have a new baby and perhaps she wants all her family together for this first Christmas.”
But Trish looked skeptical. “I think you’re being too generous as usual. So where are you headed now?”
“I’m meeting Spencer at his office and we’re having a picnic lunch.”
“How romantic! Somewhere private?”
Leigh laughed. “That won’t be hard in Ocracoke at this time of year.”
Trish laughed, too, then said, “Say, I was talking to Mary Ann Burnett the other day. She told me she asked you about writing an article on Janet and the rest of the story for the
Island Breeze.
Can you believe the woman?”
“Some people never change,” Leigh murmured. She said goodbye to Trish, paid for her supplies and headed back out to the car. Mary Ann’s telephone call a few days after the fire was still vivid in her mind.
“I’ve always felt so guilty,” Mary Ann had confessed, “for not delivering that note you gave me to Spencer. All I can say is that I was young and impressionable then myself. I figured you were going away to college and leaving Spencer behind. Jen was crazy about him and I thought...” Mary Ann’s voice trailed off without the prompt she was waiting for from Leigh.
Then she’d broached the topic of the feature article for the
Island Breeze.
“Many people are seeking their birth parents, and vice versa of course. This would be a wonderful article about how something so important can go wrong.”
“No, Mary Ann,” Leigh had replied. “I don’t think people need to know about something that personal. Besides, the major newspapers have already picked up the story.”
“But this would be from your perspective—how you felt, why you wanted to believe Janet’s story so much...”
Leigh had managed to keep calm, but had hung up as soon as she could.
No, some people don’t change at all.
On the way to Spencer’s office Leigh stopped at the post office to pick up her mail. Quitting her job—with the promise to do some contract work for Reg—and selling her apartment in New York—with the help of a friend of Evan’s—had been so easy that Leigh questioned the quality of her life there the past seven years.
How can I just walk away from it all with absolutely no regrets?
Spencer, of course. She thought back to that night Janet had been taken away. He’d driven Leigh home, made her soak in a hot bath, clothed her in a pair of his pajamas and tucked her into his bed. Then he’d lain on top of the covers and held her while she cried. He’d slept with her that night and every night since.
“Until you don’t need me beside you,” he’d promised.
“I’ll always need you beside me,” she said.
And later, when he’d asked her again to stay in Ocracoke as his wife, Leigh hadn’t needed time to consider the question. She wouldn’t let this second chance escape, she vowed, though a cautious voice deep inside begged her to wait. There were other feelings and opinions to consider—Jamie’s and Jen’s. Not to mention sorting out all the details from the summer.
Sam’s cottage was restored and rented, the funds directed into a college fund for Jamie. Bill Cowan sold his share of the business to Spencer. There had been a small dilemma about Windswept Manor. Leigh knew Evan would still come through for her, but Spencer talked her out of selling.
“It’s too original,” he’d said. “How many places like that are left in Ocracoke? If you sell it, how can you guarantee that the new owners won’t tear it down and rebuild some trendy monster cottage?”
Leigh had smiled at his phrase, but agreed with his point. In the end they’d decided to sell Spencer’s house and live at Windswept. Evan would still get a commission and there’d be lots of room for little McKays. Or so Leigh reasoned privately.
But one step at a time
—
starting with the marriage.
They’d seen Jamie off to school in Charlotte the week before. The new custody agreement allowed him to make more decisions about his living arrangements. He decided to spend winters in Charlotte, attending school. It was a decision that disappointed Spencer, but made him proud at the same time. There would be more educational opportunities in the city, and Jamie’s agreement to take school more seriously was a welcome one. Alternate Christmas holidays and all summer holidays would be spent on Ocracoke.
Jamie had already chosen his new bedroom at Windswept—the gabled attic. The three of them had spent most of the summer cleaning and redecorating. When he’d left for school, Jamie had hugged Leigh fiercely.
“If you get married in October, Dad said I could take a few days off school. We can hike through the marshes again. Check out the ponies.”
And Spencer had teased, “Are you crashing our honeymoon?” to which Leigh had added, “Not crashing. He’s invited. We’re family, right?”
Leigh paused to chat to some people on her way into the post office. She’d received many notes and wishes of congratulation about her engagement to Spencer. Over the summer she’d realized that deciding to stay in Ocracoke had not been the hurdle she’d expected. After their initial show of surprise and pleasure, people treated her as though she’d never left. And although Laura Marshall’s mother still avoided her, Leigh knew the woman had stopped gossiping about her.
“Some of her friends set her straight,” Trish had revealed to Leigh. “Suggested if she couldn’t forgive and forget, then maybe she should just keep quiet.”
Leigh shuffled through the stack of business envelopes, then reached for a small brown padded envelope wedged into the rear of the box. The postmark was Virginia City and there was no return address on the outside. Back in her car Leigh ripped open the envelope. Inside she found a small package wrapped in tissue paper and a folded letter.
She unfolded it and began to read.
Dear Ms. Randall,
I read about your story in our local newspaper and my heart went out to you. Ever since I wrote to the Bennington Adoption Agency sixteen years ago, I have dreamed about this day. I am taking a chance that you may still be interested in finding your birth mother. If you are not, kindly disregard this letter. But I hope the contents of the package will persuade you to contact me when you feel you want to.
Because I never received a reply to my inquiry years ago, I never thought this opportunity to find you would happen. I have instructed the Bennington Agency to release the necessary information you will need to show that I am indeed your birth mother. Looking forward to meeting in the near future,
Lois Morley
The packet inside tumbled out onto Leigh’s lap. Her fingers fumbled with the tape wrapped around it, finally tearing at the paper. The small remnant of powder blue fabric was the missing corner of her baby blanket.
 
“WELL, IT’S A LOT MORE convincing than Janet Bradley’s story,” Spencer said, tossing the square piece of blanket onto the desk. “How do you feel about it? What does your gut instinct tell you?”
Leigh had to smile. “You’re trusting my gut instinct?”
Spencer reached out to clasp her hand. “I’ve always trusted your instincts, Leigh.”
“To be honest I feel nervous and scared—but excited, too. I think I’m ready for this.” She caught his eyes and grinned. “But we’ll take it nice and slow, won’t we?” She tucked the blanket remnant into her straw bag.
Spencer stood up, walked around the desk and tugged Leigh out of her chair. Then he pulled her toward him, dipping his head into the crook of her neck. “Mmm, you smell good. Like a fresh summer day.” He kissed the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy. “What’s this?” he murmured. “You’re shivering. And it’s such a warm sunny day.”
“Spencer!” Leigh stepped backward, pushing gently against his chest. “This isn’t quite the lunch I had in mind.”
.“It isn’t? Then we’re not on the same wavelength at all, lady, because it’s exactly the one I pictured.”
She leaned down to pick up the picnic hamper and her bag. “Let’s go.”
His halfhearted grumbling was an act, she knew. They locked up and walked down to the docks.
“Where are we going?” Leigh asked after she’d stowed the supplies on board.
“I thought it would be the perfect day to take a ride over to Portsmouth Island,” he said. Before she could respond, he quickly added, “You up for it?”
Her eyes met his. She thought for mere seconds. “Yes, I’m up for it.”
His smile spoke a thousand words.
“Okay,” he said. “You start her up and I’ll get the lines.” When he hollered the go-ahead, he pushed off from the port side while Leigh thrust the lever into reverse and backed out of the slot. Spencer moved to the stern to give directions, but he knew she no longer needed them. She was turning into an adept pilot.
Just as well,
he thought,
if she’s going to be my new business partner, as well as my wife.
Once they were under way, Spence took over to steer out of the Creek into the Sound. “I was talking to my investment counselor the other day,” he said.
Leigh turned her head, grinning. “Yeah? What’d she say?”
“That I’d get a tax break if I got married this fiscal year. And with the profits from the sale of my house and buying out Bill Cowan, I’ll really need that tax break. So how about it?”
In spite of the teasing in his face, his eyes burned with determination. “I think that’s good advice,” Leigh finally said.
“Then come here, counselor.” Spencer pulled her to him with his free arm. Standing so close they seemed one, they steered the boat through the deep blue water of Ocracoke Sound toward Portsmouth Island.

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