A Bridge to Love (24 page)

“Patrick!”
Kate and Clay spoke simultaneously.

Randall
gave a half smile as he gingerly touched his cheek. “Your mother wants to know
the same thing.” He paused, then sighed. “I was in a place where I had no
business being anymore, and yes, I got in a fight. But I didn't start it, and I
doubt that I could have ended it,” he said, ruefully inspecting the marks on
his hands. “Some people with more brains than I have persuaded me to leave
before I really got hurt.”

“What
was the fight about?” Patrick persisted.

“I
have absolutely no idea. And I'm sure that there's a moral in there somewhere,
but I'm too beaten up to figure it out.”

“Don't
get between two fighting dogs or two fighting men,” Clay offered wryly.

Randall
gave a short laugh. “We are a pair.”

Patrick
had opened his mouth to say something else, but Kate quelled him with a stern
look. “I'm going to go order the pizza,” she said.

“Good,
I'm starved,” Clay said.

After
pizza, the boys decided to play poker, so Kate set up the card table. Randall
was stretched out in a chair with his feet on an ottoman, but when Patrick
shuffled the cards, he stirred. “Don't get up,” Kate said quickly.

He
ignored her and rose stiffly. “Poker's my game.”

Poker might usually be his game
, Kate thought,
but his heart wasn't in it tonight
. He
only won when he was the dealer, so ordinarily she would have suspected him of
cheating. Tonight, though, she concluded that he simply wasn't focused on the
game except when he had to be. In fact, she often caught him watching her with
an odd expression on his face.

“Last
hand,” Kate announced after glancing at the clock. “You have school tomorrow,
Patrick, and Clay needs some rest.”

Randall
pushed what was left of his poker chips into the center of the table and
shuffled the cards several times.

“Let's
try a game of real skill: high card, winner takes all,” he called. Everyone
laughed and shoved their chips into the pile. Randall fanned the cards on the
table. “Patrick, you have the draw. Now Clay. Kate. And myself.” He chose a
card and laid it facedown. “Ladies and gentlemen, display your cards,” he said
in his thickest Texas drawl.

Patrick
turned up a king and cheered. Clay had a ten and Kate a three. With a flourish,
Randall flipped over the Ace of Spades. He then proceeded to draw from the
spread deck the Ace of Clubs, the Ace of Diamonds and finally the Ace of
Hearts.

“Wow.”
Clay breathed. “How did you do that?”

“I
stacked the deck. I'm good at that,” Randall said with an edge in his voice.
“Good night, young men. Thank you for your company.”

Kate
stood up. “Patrick, upstairs and get ready for bed. Clay, I'm going to give you
one of those painkillers to make sure you get a good night's sleep.”

“Aw,
Mom, I don't need one.”

“I
know, sweetheart, you're very tough, but I don't want to stay up all night
worrying about whether you're sleeping or not, so take it for me.”

Clay
muttered but he swallowed the pill and trudged up the stairs.

“I'll
be right up to give you a hand with your hand,” Kate joked. Then she turned to
Randall. “Let me get them settled, and then I'll be back down.”

Randall
was slotting poker chips into their stand. “Don't worry about me.”

“I
just don't want you to disappear while I'm upstairs.”

He
looked up at her. “You've been talking to Tom. He thinks I've gone off the deep
end.”

“He's
concerned,” Kate corrected. “You're lucky to have such a good friend.”

Randall
snorted and went back to sorting poker chips.

TwentyOne

Kate got the boys in bed and
walked back to her bedroom to pick up a sweater. She started as she saw Randall
standing beside the bed, putting on his watch. He looked up. “I remembered that
I left my wallet and watch on the bedside table.”

“But
not your phone?” Kate teased.

“I
got rid of that in San Antonio.”

“I
hope you get free replacements from that telephone company you own.”

Randall
didn't smile.

Kate
closed the door softly behind her. “Would you like to tell me what happened
down there?” she said, walking to the chaise longue by the window. She perched
on the foot and looked up at Randall expectantly. “I'll never repeat anything
you tell me to anyone – not even Tom,” she said with a slight smile.

“I
know that,” Randall said sharply. He adjusted his watch with great precision,
then sat down on the edge of the bed. He leaned his elbows on his knees and
clasped his hands. Keeping his gaze on his hands, he said, “I went to Texas to
destroy a man.”

Kate
let the silence go on for a while before she decided that he needed help. “The
man at Mason Bank?”

Randall
glanced up at her. “Tom told you that?”

“Just
the name of the bank.”

Randall
stared out the window. “Tom knew the deal stank from day one. He didn't
understand that I had no intention of making a profit from the bank; I intended
to take it apart piece by piece and wipe it off the face of the earth.”

“Why?”
Kate whispered. She was shocked by the hatred in his voice.

Randall's
laugh was as unpleasant as his expression. “I wanted to take everything away
from Gill Gillespie because he took everything away from me. Mason Bank was
more than his job; it was his heritage. His granddaddy started it, his daddy
made it solid, and Gill grew it. I couldn't just fire him; I had to ruin the
bank, too.”

“I
don't understand. You have so much. What did he do to you?”

“He
got me thrown off the football team.”

Kate
almost laughed, thinking that he was joking. But Randall was staring straight
ahead with no sign of amusement on his face.

“I
guess you really loved football,” she said lamely.

That
made Randall look at her. “Yeah, I loved football, but I loved the scholarship
it got me to Texas University more. I had to lead Mason County High on to
another championship if I wanted to go to college. Gill and his father made
that impossible. Gill didn't need a scholarship; he just wanted to play
quarterback his senior year. And for that, he destroyed my future.”

Randall
got up and walked to the window before turning to face Kate. “I worked my ass
off to get that scholarship. It was my ticket out of the dirt and the squalor
and the shame of a mother who everyone knew was an alcoholic. My brothers and
sisters left as soon as they could lie about their ages and get a paying job.
And I was right behind them. But I was going to do it better; I was going to
get a college education.”

“But
you did get a college education. You went to Princeton.”

Randall
swung back to the window. “That's another long story. It took me six years of
struggling to get through Princeton. I wouldn't care to repeat the experience.”

“But
you did it. And look where you are now.”

“I'm
looking,” Randall said with a mean edge to his voice. The edge was gone when he
continued. “The scholarship wasn't the only thing Gill took from me. He also
took Lucy, the only good thing in my life from age twelve on.” He stared out
into the night. “And for twenty-three years, I thought that he took my
daughter, too.”

Kate's
eyes widened. “You have a daughter?”

“Evidently
not. But I thought I might.”

His
voice was so bleak she longed to put her arms around him for comfort. His
stance was so rigid she was afraid he wouldn't welcome being touched.

“Tell
me about Lucy,” she urged softly.

“It's
a sordid story.”

Kate
lifted an eyebrow. “I've been through sordid myself. I can handle it.”

Randall
gave her a humorless smile in acknowledgment, then sat back down on the bed.
“It starts further back than twenty-three years. Lucinda Nelson was a year
younger than I was and just as poor. But her parents didn't drink. Some weeks,
I spent more time at her house than at mine.

“She
was a pretty girl: blond, tall and slender, green eyes. She had a real talent
for making her house pretty, too. We made all the usual plans young lovers do.
I'd go to college and then come back and marry her. We'd move to San Antonio
and have a family and a house. That was what kept me going, in spite of my
mother and the teachers who thought I was nothing but trouble. My idea of
heaven was to have a house in San Antonio with Lucy in it to make it pretty and
to be the mother of my children. She had a sweetness that I knew would make her
a good mother – and a good wife.” His expression hardened. “But Gill got it all
instead.”

Once
again, Randall stood up, this time to pace around the room.

“It
was the summer before my senior year. Lucy came to my house crying because she
was pregnant.” Randall stopped in the middle of the room. “I can still feel the
kick in the gut that gave me. I hadn't told her that I had lost the only hope I
had of getting both of us out of Mason County.” His lips twisted in
self-mockery. “I thought she was counting on me, and I was trying to be the big
man and find another way.

“I
told her that we'd get married right away, and I told her about losing the
scholarship. But we loved each other and everything would work out.”

Randall
started pacing again. “Three days later, she told me that I was off the hook.
She was going to marry Gill Gillespie.”

Kate
gasped.

Randall
sent her a sardonic look. “Exactly. It was an ugly scene. I told her that I
didn't want someone else raising my child. She told me that it wasn't mine, but
I didn't believe her. I figured that since my future looked dim, she was going
for the sure thing with the banker's son. When she pointed out that Gill was in
a better position to support a wife and child than I was, I stopped arguing.”

He
sat down again. “On graduation day, I collected my diploma and got on a bus out
of there. I swore not to come back until I could make Gill pay for what he had
taken from me.”

“So
you left and made your fortune and then went back to exact retribution,” Kate
prompted.

“I
made my fortune in order to exact retribution,” Randall corrected her.

“You
created RJ Enterprises just so that you could take revenge on the man who got
you thrown off your high school football team and married your pregnant
girlfriend twenty-some years ago?”

“Yes.”

“I
don't believe that for a minute,” Kate said, standing up and facing him.

Randall
stood up, too, and ground out his words. “I've been watching Mason Bank since
the day I left, waiting for the perfect moment to pick it off. Not a day has
gone by that I haven't looked at some piece of information about that bank.”

“You
just got into a bad habit.”

His
laugh was short as he turned away. “Why am I arguing with you? For the last
twenty-four hours I've been trying to convince myself that I haven't wasted
most of my life.”

“Why
would you think that?”

“Because
I spent twenty-three years planning my payback, and I threw it away!”

Kate
sat down again. “How did you throw it away?”

“I
cancelled the deal. I left Gill with his bank and his house and his wife and
his daughters.”

“In
other words, you did the right thing,” Kate said.

“Yeah,
I did the right thing,” Randall said with contempt in his voice. He spun on his
heel and came back to her. “Because of you.”

“Because
of
me
?” Kate's voice went up an
octave in astonishment.

“Gill
invited me to his house. I saw Lucinda there, and she filled me in on some of
the details. Like the fact that she knew all along that her baby wasn't mine.”
He seemed to notice that Kate was leaning back in order to look up at him and
he took a step away. “Lucinda and I were finishing our enlightening
conversation when I took a stroll around the room and saw a photo. It was a
picture of her three daughters in soccer uniforms with their arms around each
other, holding trophies and grinning at the camera.”

Randall
took a deep breath. “The soccer uniforms and the grins reminded me of Clay and
Patrick. I realized that I wouldn't be destroying a man; I'd be destroying a
family. And I couldn't do that after knowing you and your boys. I just couldn't
God damn do that. So I went out and got drunk.”

He
walked slowly back to the bed and sank down onto it. “So now what do I do,
Kate?”

She
got up and went over to him, kneeling in front of him to cup his face with her
hands. “You had your dream before Gill Gillespie intervened: You were going to
get out of Mason County and go to San Antonio. Revenge had nothing to do with
that. Lucinda and Gill just nudged you along the track. And you've gone so far
beyond that first dream.”

She
dropped her hands and sat back on her heels. “You're an extraordinary person,
Randall. Remember, I watched you run straight toward a burning gas tank to
rescue two men because they worked for you, and you felt responsible for them.
You put all your resources at the disposal of a twelve-year-old who got bitten
by a dog.”

He
made a sound of protest, but Kate continued.

“You
just sacrificed what you believed was your moment of triumph, the ultimate goal
of your life, for three girls who played soccer.” She stood up. “You're not a
destroyer; you're a builder.”

Randall
dropped his face into his hands, threading his fingers up into his hair. Kate
rose and sat down beside him.

“It
may take some time to get used to the idea that you aren't some sort of an
avenging angel, but I know you'll find another project to focus on.” She moved
her hand up to massage his neck. “You could spend more time on that charitable
foundation of yours. Or join Habitat for Humanity.” Kate was warming to her
theme. “Run for president!”

“Win
the Nobel Peace Prize,” Randall's voice emerged from the depths of his hands.
“End world hunger.”

“That's
the spirit,” Kate approved.

When
he lifted his head, he was smiling. He turned slightly so that he could take
Kate's face between his hands, and he kissed her on the forehead. Then his gaze
dropped to her lips. He shifted toward her ever so slowly, giving her all the time
in the world to pull away.

But
she met him halfway. He had trusted her with the story of his past. He had come
to her for help and she loved him all the more for it. She wanted to touch him
as much as he needed to touch her.

He
began the kiss like a desperate man, pressing his mouth hard against hers, his
tongue forcing entrance. Kate had to grab his shoulders to brace herself
against the onslaught.

Then
suddenly the attack ended. He gently brushed her lips with his and traced her
mouth lightly with his tongue. Kate moaned as she released his shoulders and
slid her hands up into his hair.

He
pulled her hard against him for a long minute. Then he gently lowered her onto
the bed and stretched out beside her. Propping himself on one elbow, he looked
at her with a half-smile. “We're going to go slowly for a change.” Then his
expression clouded. “I don't want you to make love to me out of pity.”

“Don't
be an idiot,” she said affectionately, as she reached up and unbuttoned his
shirt.

Randall's
eyebrow quirked upward, and then he laughed and buried his face in the crook of
her neck. “Oh God, I love you, Kate.”

She
went still for a split second, then drew in a steadying breath. She realized he
hadn't meant it as a declaration; it was the sort of statement he would make to
a friend who made him laugh at a difficult moment.

All
such thoughts scattered when Randall lifted his head and began to unbutton her
blouse. As he released each button, he ran his fingers lightly over the new
area of skin that was revealed. “I want to see every inch of you this time,” he
said.

Kate
arched her back as he slid his hands under her to unfasten her bra. When he
pushed it up and began teasing her nipples with his tongue, she arched even
higher. Then he closed his lips on one nipple and ran his thumb around the
other one. Kate gasped and grabbed handfuls of the bedspread. The longing to
have Randall fill the hollow between her legs had just multiplied tenfold.

“Oh...
my... goodness,” Kate whispered as Randall blew a warm breath across the nipple
he had just released. She couldn't stand the torture any longer. She reached up
and finished unbuttoning his shirt, yanking it out of the waistband of his
slacks and down his arms. She stopped briefly to run her hands across the
springy dark hair on his chest and to circle his nipples in retaliation. When
his head fell back in pleasure, she ran her tongue up the line of his throat.