A Secret Identity (21 page)

“I do,” I snapped. Butt out, my eye. I was a Bentley too.

Marnie grinned compassionately at Todd. “Paradigm shift time?”

“Big time,” Todd muttered.

“They hardly ever yell at me,” Marnie said. “I don’t think they’ll yell much at you either.”

Todd looked at me. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were? Couldn’t you trust me?”

I looked into his unhappy eyes, blinking so I wouldn’t stare too hard and drown in their depths.

“It had nothing to do with trust,” I said.

He looked unconvinced.

“It didn’t! I honestly don’t even think about Bentley Marts most of the time. The only reason we’re talking about it now is because that store was so bad. If it had been up to snuff, I’d never have thought about it at all.”

He glanced at me briefly without saying anything. I thought how much easier this explaining would be if I could just write it down and then rewrite and rewrite until I was saying what I wanted instead of what popped out.

“Todd, you know as well as I do that I have been consumed with this adoption search.” I leaned toward him. “And then there’s Mary’s accident. And my book proposal.” I leaned closer. “And you.” It was almost a whisper.

I wasn’t even certain Todd heard me. He was staring, frowning, into his water glass like he was looking for a clear thought in its crystalline depths.

I looked at him unhappily. I didn’t know what to say to make him understand that I wasn’t trying to deceive him about who I was. In my mind I was Cara Bentley, writer, not Cara Bentley of Bentley Marts. The one was me. The other was just something that had happened to me because of other people to whom I happened to be related.

“Come on, Todd,” Ward finally said. “Don’t be mad at her. I mean, look at her.” He waved a hand in my direction.

Todd’s eyes swung to me. I stared back, my heart in my eyes.

“She’s beautiful and rich,” Ward said. “I can’t hide the one, but I can try and protect her from the other.”

Todd sighed. “Well, she’s beautiful all right,” he said, his eyes still on me. “I knew that from the first. It’ll just take a while to get used to the second.”

“But you’ll try to get used to it? Please?” There are times when begging is most appropriate.

He nodded his head at me, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I’ll try.”

I beamed.

Chapter 10

T
he Paddock looked like something from a fairy tale. The house, a large, early nineteenth-century brick farmhouse restored to its original splendor, had candles lit in every window. The deep front porch was filled with hanging flower baskets and planters of geraniums and ivy. Mature beeches, maples, and oaks shadowed the lawn, and evergreens stood sentinel as they had four centuries ago when the first German settlers came to this abundant valley. A white, split-rail fence edged the property.

The large front lawn was covered with round tables, each laid out with white linens, silver, and crystal for eight. Flowers in a medley of summer colors blazed as centerpieces. White covers draping to the ground sheathed the chairs completely. To the left, in front of an immaculate barn, was a wooden dance floor, beside which a quintet of musicians was playing.

“Oh, Todd!” I breathed as we walked up the drive. A teen in a tux jacket, dress shirt, bow tie, jeans, and white tennis shoes had taken our car, and we were able to appreciate the full effect of the setting as we walked.

I tucked my hand in the crook of Todd’s elbow and thought again how handsome he looked in his tux. He’d even let his curls arrange themselves in a less rigid manner. A good sign, I thought, because it meant he was listening to my suggestions and preferences. And he was willing to forgive me for being rich.

“Everything looks lovely,” he agreed, surveying the grounds. “But not half as lovely as you.”

I turned and found him looking at me in a way that made my breath catch. I was suddenly very glad I had spent the time and money to buy this coral dress. I wasn’t boring tonight, though I wasn’t sure I’d made it all the way to sophisticated—or ever would. It had taken me forever just to successfully pull my hair back into a figure eight chignon that actually stayed in place.

As I had told Rainbow while I brushed out yet another failed attempt with my hair, “Now I remember why I let it hang down my back or wear it braided. Elegance is too much work!” But tonight it appeared worth all the effort, right down to the sprig of baby’s breath tucked in it.

Todd spent most of the evening introducing me to people whose names I would never remember. The women sparkled in sequins and shimmered in silk. The men looked substantial and well cared for in tuxes. I didn’t realize there were so many lawyers to be had, let alone so many in one county.

“That’s our host,” Todd told me shortly after we arrived.

I looked where he indicated and saw a big man who was speaking with a powerful voice. I could hear its boom even where we were, although I couldn’t make out the words. He had a full head of dark hair with silver at the temples and a marvelous smile that he used freely. He was obviously a man who liked his position as president of the county bar association, talking to everyone, glad handing, laughing easily, whispering compliments to the ladies and delighting in their blushes and simpers.

“I bet he could charm the birds from the trees,” I muttered to Todd as I watched him lean over to whisper into the ear of a stout, well-corseted older woman. She listened for a moment and then leaned back and laughed like a young girl.

“Amos, you are a liar,” she said, her upper-register voice carrying. “But I love it. I love it.”

“Judge Wallace Brubaker’s wife,” Todd whispered. He pointed out the judge, who was more than equal to his wife’s girth and was busy talking to a slim, carefully coiffed woman in a swirling sea-green silk number. “And talking to the judge is Jessica, Amos’s wife.”

“Shall we go pay our respects?” I asked, turning in their direction.

“No rush,” Todd said. And he led me to the bar where he got us each a Perrier with a twist of lime.

We made a leisurely loop around the yard, enjoying the setting and watching the people. Amos’s voice rolled over us wherever we were.

“He is a bit noisy, isn’t he?” I asked.

Todd made a noncommital noise in his throat just as Amos laughed raucously. The man he was with turned a brilliant shade of red, visible even from our distance.

“Does he often make people uncomfortable?” I asked.

“Only when he has a reason to. Otherwise he is, as you noted, a charmer.”

When we finally reached Amos, he turned his charm on me.

“My, my, Todd,” he said, taking my hand in his a little bit too enthusiastically. “Where have you been keeping this lovely young woman? You look absolutely beautiful, my dear, in that dress the color of sunrise.”

The color of sunrise? Give me a break. But I simpered with the rest as he patted my hand and gave the impression I was the only woman in the world.

“May I present Cara Bentley,” Todd said, standing at my shoulder and looking as frosty as January rime at the edge of a lake. “And Cara, this is our host, Amos Yost.”

“Amos,” I said and dipped my head politely while I tried to reclaim my hand. Then his name registered. My breath caught in my throat and I spun to Todd.

“
My
Amos Yost?” I wanted to yell. “My maybe uncle or cousin or something? And you didn’t tell me?”

Todd grasped my arm and smiled at me very sweetly. Too sweetly. He reached out, put a finger under my drooping jaw and pushed my mouth gently closed. Then he turned back to Amos. “You’ve done yourself proud here tonight, you and Jessica. The place looks absolutely wonderful. I know Cara is impressed.” And he squeezed my arm. Make that pinched.

It might have hurt, but it was a wise move on Todd’s part. It brought me out of my stupor in short order. I shot him a look of pure venom before I turned back to Amos.

“I am most definitely impressed, sir. It looks like a fairyland, and I’m delighted to be here.”

I let my anger at Todd simmer in the back of my mind while I looked at Amos with great interest. If he were my Amos Yost, Pop would be his uncle. Could I see any physical resemblance to Pop in him? Maybe they were somewhat alike in the barrel chest, but the biggest similarity wasn’t so much in appearance as in manner. He shared with Pop—and with Ward, come to think of it—that indefinable but palpable charisma that made everyone listen when they spoke and act upon their suggestions with due haste.

But that didn’t mean he was related to me. Lots of people had charisma. Pop’s hallmark had been affection for just about everyone, and his genuine caring tempered the force of his great personality. And much as I groused about Ward, I could see that same respect for people developing more and more in him. I think it came because both men appreciated people as created in the image of God. I would have to get to know Amos to see if he had that family trait.

“Jessica,” Amos said to his wife. He reached out and touched her arm to get her attention. She was again talking to Judge and Mrs. Brubaker. “You remember Todd Reasoner? And this is his guest, Cara Bentley.”

Jessica Yost turned to me with a smile. Suddenly her expression congealed and she stared. If such a thing as an aura existed, and if I could actually see hers, she would have been pumping out red. Her demeanor was wrathful and full of a combination of disbelief and violation. I blinked at the animosity that rolled toward Todd and me at flood speed.

Almost immediately she caught herself and became once again the gracious-though-distant hostess I’d seen all evening from afar.

“We are delighted that both of you have joined us this evening.” Her recovered smile looked genuine.

My mind swirled. Had I imagined that hostility? And why? Whether or not we proved to be related, I was certainly no threat to her.

“I was telling your husband how lovely everything is,” I said.

“Wait until dark and the little lights in the trees come on.” She gestured and I noticed for the first time the strings of lights wrapped around the tree limbs. “Fairyland,” she said.

“I look forward to it,” I said.

She nodded and then turned with what seemed to be relief to speak to some other people who were wandering up to greet their host and hostess. With a nod of his head, Amos turned away too.

Todd tucked my arm into his and started to walk. I took a couple of steps and then dug in my heels. I stared at my feet, trying to decide how one murdered one’s date and got away with it.

“You louse!” I hissed when he turned to see why I wasn’t following him. I didn’t scream or raise my voice. We were surrounded, after all, by lots of well-dressed people. The way I felt at the moment, I’d be happy to humiliate him in front of his peers, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself. “How could you do that to me?”

“Smile, woman,” he returned, a phony grin pasted across his mouth. “We’re having fun on a lovely summer evening. And let’s walk. We won’t look quite so much like we’re fighting if we move around a bit. We are fighting, aren’t we?”

“We sure are.” But I let him take my arm and lead me in another circle of the yard.

He sighed. “I was afraid of that. But at least I’m learning to recognize the real thing. That’s a hopeful sign for someone as repressed as me, right?”

“Not repressed. Buttoned down,” I corrected in a snarly voice.

“Ah. Buttoned down. Right.”

I made the mistake of looking at Todd. My eyes might be sparking with anger, but his were puppy dog worried, and all because I was angry at him. I turned my head abruptly. He affected me too much.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to get your hopes up,” he said. His voice was soft, caring, like the whisper of the breeze that floated through the trees above us.

“So instead you let me get hit across the head with a two by four! You should have warned me.”

He nodded. “I probably should have, but I chose not to.”

“You chose?
You
chose?” My voice shook. “You had no right, Todd! It’s my potential family.”

“I know. And I knew you’d probably be furious with me. But I’d do the same thing again.” He glanced at me. “At least I think I would,” he said wryly.

“But why, Todd? Why would you do that to me? People don’t hurt people they care for.”

He cleared his throat self-consciously. “I know how much you liked Alma, and I was afraid you’d claim Amos as your own as you’ve done with her. And quite frankly, I don’t want
him
to be yours.”

“You don’t want him to be mine?” I stopped to put my hands on my hips as I glared at him. He took my elbow and pulled me along, completely ruining my attempt to wilt him with my pique. “Why? Are you jealous?”

He was suddenly genuinely smiling. In fact, he was laughing his fool head off, something that did
not
make me feel any better, especially since I deserved the laughter after making such an inane comment.

“Jealous?” he repeated. “Oh, no. After all, he’s probably a cousin or something. Besides, you’ve got better taste than to ever be hoodwinked by someone like him.”

“Just by someone like you,” I muttered.

He grinned and took my hand. “Cara, I know how important finding your family is to you and how much you want them to be nice people, but I’ve got to tell you that I just don’t like Amos. I don’t trust him. He’s always got an angle. I’ve faced him often enough in court to know he’s expedient instead of ethical, more interested in accruing billing hours than giving solid legal services. He spends more time furthering his career than serving his clients.”

“And yet he’s president of the local bar association.”

Todd nodded. “Politics.”

I took a deep breath and studied Todd thoughtfully as the shimmer from the just lit fairy lights fell over his face. I was still angry that he hadn’t told me about Amos, but there was an even more basic question at issue here. Did I trust him? Even when I disagreed with what he’d done, did I have confidence in him as a man? Did I trust his motives? His opinions? Did I believe that he thought his actions were for my benefit, not his? Could I rely on his advice? His obvious affection for me? Did I trust him with my future?