Past Secrets, Present Love Page 6

  “Like dating Kelly is a hardship.” She chuckled. “Puh-leeze.”

  “It’s not a date, it’s…reciprocity.” His face felt hotter than the fire at Kelly’s. “I go with her, she comes here. That’s the deal.”

  “Martyrdom, here comes Ross Van Zandt.” Sandra giggled, then quickly sobered. “I’m not so sure it’s a good thing if you had to bribe her to see me.”

  “It wasn’t a bribe.” He huffed out a sigh. “Will you give it up, Sandra? She’s coming to see you, that’s what you wanted. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Shame on me.” She reached up, touched his cheek with her fingertips in a gentle caress he would never tire of. “Yes, my dear man, it is more than enough. Thank you.”

  “Welcome,” he mumbled, embarrassed by the soft glow of love in her eyes. How could she love him? She didn’t even know him, wouldn’t want to if she did.

  “It’s been a long day. You’re tired and with all you’ve done, who could blame you.” She brushed her palm across his hair, pushed back a lock of hair and patted his cheek. “Go home and get some rest, Ross. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

  “Yeah, skiing.” He made a face. “I’ll probably end up in the hospital with two broken legs and a concussion. People like me don’t do skiing.”

  “People like you? It’s not the technique, it’s the attitude,” she told him. “Stop expecting the worst. Besides, after that everyone goes to the Morrow mansion.”

  “Oh, goody,” he mocked her. “The Ice Queen in her palace.”

  Sandra stared him down until he wished he hadn’t made the comment.

  “I’m old enough to be your mother, Ross, so let me give you some motherly advice. If you look hard enough, you’ll always find something bad about people. But if you look hard enough, you’ll always find something good, too.”

  “Okay, Mother. I’ll try to see something good in her.”

  She rose, grasped his hand and tugged. Ross stood, would have pulled away, but her hands refused to let go.

  “You’ve done so much for me and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you. Finding Kelly—it’s like a dream come true. I couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful daughter. You gave her to me. You are a man to be proud of, Ross.”

  “Good night, Sandra.” He bent, kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand, then let himself out.

  Immediately, the warmth Sandra always shed was overpowered by the frosty winter night. He shivered, climbed into his car and without warming the engine, headed for home. Home—that was a joke.

  He unlocked the door and stepped inside the miserable apartment. A fax machine, his surveillance equipment—hardly the comforts he’d found in Kelly’s beautiful house. No silky drapes, plush sofas or comfy cushions here. Certainly nothing that would hint at time and attention spent on decorating the space. This was a strictly utilitarian area meant to remind him every time he stepped in it that he was here for one reason only—to reunite Sandra with her long-lost child.

  As soon as that was done his purpose here would be over. Funny how he didn’t want to think about leaving.

  Ross walked to the window, picked up the plain wooden frame that held a photo of Trista taken at her campus in Atlanta. It still amazed him that she’d married some preppy fellow from an Ivy League school and chosen law for herself. Kelly was like Trista—reserved, pulled into herself, as if she were afraid to let anyone know she wasn’t as strong as they thought.

  He knew why Trista was like that, but what made Kelly Young so reticent?

  And why did someone want her out of town so badly they would tamper with her steering, barricade her in a closet and threaten her over the phone?

  All questions he’d like to ask Sandra’s God.

  Chapter Four

  Kelly was almost out the door when the phone rang. She debated only a second before picking up the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  “So you’re up and around this morning?” Ross’s low voice held a hint of amusement. “I guess the gingersnaps couldn’t keep you down, huh?”

  “Not for long.” She wasn’t going to mention that her stomach was still doing odd little twists and turns or the horrible dreams she’d had. “Actually I’m just going out the door.” She knew he wouldn’t come. But she asked anyway. “Want to join me for church?”

  “No, thanks. I just wondered what time I should pick you up.” The chuckle in his voice was gone. Now it was all business.

  “I’ll meet you here at noon. We’ll have a bite to eat, then head out to meet the others. Is that all right?”

  “You don’t have to cook for me, Kelly. In fact, I should be taking you out.”

  “Why?” She frowned into the phone. “Look, if I don’t leave now, I’ll be late. Dinner’s already in the oven. Just be here. Bye.” She waited until she heard his response, then quickly hung up the phone before he could think of another excuse. Just as quickly it rang again.

  “You’re coming,” she said firmly. “You promised and you’d better be there.”

  No response.

  “Hello?” Only silence. “This isn’t funny, Ross.”

  His low grumble didn’t answer, but there was someone there. She could tell by the slight breathy sound.

  “Stop phoning me,” she said sharply, then slammed down the phone.

  Before it could ring again, Kelly was out the door, walking down the street toward Chestnut Grove Community Church. It was a longish walk, but fortunately the day was mild. Kelly began to enjoy herself as the sun shone glittering white against the snow that had drifted down sometime during the night.

  She spared a thought for the newlyweds, wondered if Ben knew he wasn’t Sandra’s long lost child. Ross would have told him, she was sure. Poor Ben—he actually wanted to know about his birth parents. That had never been an issue with Kelly.

  She remembered a day as clear as this morning. After the holidays, at home, waiting for school to begin. She’d been eleven when her mother had sat her down for a talk. Kelly had assumed the discussion would revolve around the birds and the bees, but to her surprise her mother had explained about her adoption.

  “Are you upset?” her mother had asked.

  “No. Not upset.” How could she be upset that her parents had wanted her, loved her even though she’d been born to someone else? She’d told her mother that, but not about the secret rush of worry that tucked itself into her heart as she wondered if anyone could ever take her away from her parents.

  Neither had she told them about the dreams she’d had, horrible nightmares where a woman tried to grab her, told her that it was all a mistake, that the Youngs weren’t supposed to get her but another child—one who was prettier, smarter, one more worthy of being loved by them.

  As she walked along the shoveled walks, Kelly could almost feel the oppression of those horrible dreams. After years of being nightmare-free, she’d had it again last night. Only this time it was worse. This time Sandra Lange had been the woman pulling her out of her mother’s arms.

  It was just a dream. It’s not reality. Sandra isn’t like that.

  But though she repeated the words to herself over and over, she didn’t feel comforted. It wasn’t a good way to start the morning. Sunday school was the usual hectic hour it had always been. She loved team-teaching the senior girls but they were a challenge, and with Leah away, Kelly was forced to keep her mind on the topic at hand.

  Kelly dismissed her class a few minutes early so she could take her place in the sanctuary. She tried to find a sense of peace to hush the whirlwind in her brain that rose up whenever she thought about Sandra and facing her, trying to feel that bond that had come so naturally with her own mother. What would Sandra expect?

  The Morrows moved past her down the aisle, Lindsay Morrow dragging at her husband’s arm when he would have sat on one of the back pews. Clearly she wanted more attention, Kelly mused and then checked herself for her lousy attitude. She was a little jealous of Lindsay’s electric blue silk suit and the way it fit
. The woman was made to wear beautiful clothes. Gerald, on the other hand, though his suit was no doubt custom-made, looked uncomfortable in it. He took his place at the end of the front pew beside his wife, then buried himself in the bulletin.

  Eli and Rachel Cavanaugh sat down in front of her. “Wasn’t the wedding lovely?” Rachel asked her, looking deliriously happy herself. “Leah was a beautiful bride.”

  “Yes, she was.”

  “I noticed you left early. Is anything wrong?”

  “No. Just a personal detail I had to take care of.” Kelly had no desire to admit to people she’d known for years that she’d just found out she was the illegitimate daughter of a woman she’d known most of her life. What would they think of her?

  “I noticed you came to the wedding with Ross.”

  “Yes. I had a problem with my car and he gave me a ride. I was so late I was afraid I’d miss everything but I made it. I saw Caleb and Anne slip in for the ceremony.”

  “Yes. Anne said she couldn’t possibly miss it. They left again right after. They looked pretty happy, too.”

  “Must be a love bug going around.” Kelly heaved a silent sigh of relief as Pastor Fraser stepped to the podium and began his usual welcome speech. Meg Talbot Kierney slipped in on the other end of her pew, smiled, then turned to help her son Luke. Jared and Chance followed them minutes later.

  Meg Kierney, Rachel Noble Cavanaugh, Pilar Estes Fletcher and Anne Smith—though now she was Anne Williams—usually lunched together at Sandra’s Starlight Diner after Sunday morning service. Kelly had gone along sometimes, but she’d never really felt as close to the four women as they obviously did to each other. And never more so than now when each was happily married and she was dealing with a past she’d never expected, never wanted and didn’t know how to face. Everything about Sandra’s secret seemed tawdry, ugly.

  “Now for just a few of the announcements. We want to make you aware of a new fund-raising event. The Noble Foundation will be hosting a Valentine’s event and I know they’d be glad of your support. Details will be forthcoming, but if you’re able to help in any way, there is a sign-up sheet in the foyer. A meeting will be called later.”

  Finally the litany of soon-to-happen events was finished and the congregation rose to greet each other. Kelly stood, welcomed Meg, Rachel and Eli and anyone else who offered their hand, but inside she squirmed. In a couple of days word would get out all over town and they’d all know she wasn’t Kelly Young anymore. She’d be someone else, someone with a new mother, someone people talked about. She wanted to run home, lock herself inside and pray for the whole thing to be a dream. Which just went to show how un-perfect her perfect life really was.

  Somehow she got through the morning, rose when the others did, mindlessly sang the songs she’d grown up with. At one point in the sermon she’d glanced over one shoulder and spotted Sandra Lange seated in the back, watching her. Kelly quickly glanced away, then felt a rush of guilt. That was her mother! And she was trying to ignore her.

  Kelly didn’t understand her own reluctance to face Sandra. She had nothing against the woman, felt she was a good member of the community. She’d heard that Sandra had stepped in after her own mother had been killed in a fire at the diner. At one time she’d lived in Richmond, or something—the details were sketchy. Kelly had heard that she’d moved back to Chestnut Grove, worked with her father and eventually inherited the diner from him. Sandra was a kind woman, she worked hard, there was nothing to be afraid of.

  And yet Kelly couldn’t rid herself of the fear that the security she’d found in her past was forever destroyed. Whatever lay in the future frightened her because she was no longer in control.

  At the end of the service Kelly sidestepped several people and made her escape through a side door. It would be better at the party, she told herself. Ross would be there and she could use him to block any unwanted discussions. It was unlikely Sandra would go skiing, even more unlikely that she’d show up at the Morrows’. The past two years when Kelly had attended she’d never once seen Sandra Lange attend.

  “You’d better get in before you kill yourself.”

  She blinked, surprised to find Ross driving along beside her. “Why would I get killed?”

  “Walking so fast on ice.” He frowned. “Church must have been bad if you had to run away.”

  “Ha-ha.” Aware that two of the town busybodies were only a half block behind, Kelly climbed into the car. “What are you doing cruising around? Spying on someone?”

  “My being a private investigator bugs you, doesn’t it?” He shrugged. “Can’t help it, Kelly. That’s what I do.”

  “I’d hate it.”

  “Why?”

  She scrounged for an answer and decided to be honest. “Poking into other people’s private business.” She shook her head. “Some people prefer their privacy.”

  “People like you.” He drove toward her home at a snail’s pace. “You know, ever since I came to town I’ve noticed something about you.”

  “Spying on me?” she snapped.

  “No. Just taking note of human nature.”

  He smiled but Kelly wasn’t fooled. “And I suppose now you’re going to tell me about my human nature.”

  “Maybe. You’re so reserved. I don’t understand that. You grew up with the Youngs, never wanted for anything, your life was as stable as could be. Your parents loved you, you loved them.” He frowned, shook his head. “To me it looks like you had the perfect childhood.”

  “Pretty close,” she agreed. “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Of course not. But that’s why I don’t understand your attitude.”

  “My attitude?” She waited until he’d shifted into Park on her driveway, then opened her door. “There’s nothing wrong with my attitude. I’m perfectly normal, so don’t go putting my life under a microscope, Ross Van Zandt. I’m not one of your P.I. clients.”

  She climbed out, stomped her way up the path to the front door, angered by his attitude.

  “Kelly, wait!”

  She heard him pounding up the walk behind her and chose to ignore it, knowing very well that the neighbors wouldn’t. Why couldn’t she find her keys? Exasperated, she finally moved the brick at the bottom of the column and picked up her spare keys. A second later she had the front door open. Ross stepped in behind her.

  “Now you’re mad at me and I didn’t mean to hurt you. Honestly. I guess I just spend too much time studying people.”

  That did nothing to appease her. Kelly kept her lips pressed together, headed for the kitchen. “I assume this means you are staying for lunch,” she muttered as she lifted the chicken potpie from the oven.

  “Would you rather I left?” he asked quietly. Something in his voice made her turn, look at him. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as if he knew a secret that she didn’t. “I could always eat the foot I’ve stuck in my mouth.”

  How did you stay angry with someone like that? Kelly sighed and shook her head.

  “Of course you should stay. Look, I guess I’m a little touchy. This whole thing with Sandra is hard to deal with.” She lifted the salad from the fridge and tossed it with some dressing. “I’m not exactly a teenager. I thought I had my life figured out. I knew who I was, where I came from, where I was going. Then this came along. It’s like everything has shifted, as if it’s off-kilter and I can’t quite get a grip on things. I don’t like that feeling.”

  “You’re talking as if you’ve had something taken away. That’s not the case, Kelly.”

  “Isn’t it?” She set the dishes on the table, motioned for him to sit. “It feels like everything I thought was true, everything that defined who Kelly Young is, has shifted.” She sighed. “Maybe you’re right and I have cold feet or something. I don’t know anymore. That’s the hard thing about this. My parents, the people I trusted the most, are gone so I can’t ask them for advice. All I have to go on is your word.”

  “Mine and Sandra’s.” He reached a
cross the table, grasped her hand where it lay on the tablecloth. “If you want to know more, all you have to do is ask. She’d be happy to tell you anything she could. After all, she’s been looking for you for a long time.”

  “Not me.”

  “You. Maybe she didn’t know your name, but you are her child. She has the documentation. Barnaby Harcourt falsified some documents, tried to change the truth, but he couldn’t. You are Sandra’s child.”

  She pulled her hand away. Ross leaned back, his face troubled.

  “I don’t understand what’s so terrible about it, Kelly. You have a chance to really know the woman who gave birth to you. Why aren’t you grabbing it?”

  “I had a mother,” she told him, trying not to lose her temper. “I loved her dearly. Just because she died doesn’t mean I want somebody else to fill in her place.”

  “But Sandra doesn’t want to do that. She wouldn’t even try. She knows how much your parents loved you and she understands how much you loved them.”

  “Then what does she want?”

  “I think it’s possible to love more than one person in your life, Kelly.”

  “That’s what you want me to do? Love someone I’ve only known as a neighbor, a business owner?” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Not right now, perhaps. But you don’t have to close the door completely. Maybe if you give it time, maybe if you gave her a chance you’d be surprised by what you and Sandra could share.”

  “Now that my adoptive mother is gone, you mean?” She was angry, unreasonably so, Kelly decided as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She didn’t understand exactly why, she only knew she wasn’t yet ready to accept anyone other than the mother she’s always known.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “That’s what it sounded like.” To cover the rush of emotions flooding her, she got up, plugged in the kettle for tea. Now, cream and sugar. No, she’d used up the cream in his hot chocolate. Milk then. He watched her the whole time, his gaze relentless.

  “Leave that and sit down. Tell me what you’re feeling. Please.” He waited for her to return to the table then leaned forward. “I won’t judge you, I won’t try to talk you into anything. Just tell me what’s going on in that lovely head of yours.”