Local Hero (15 page)

“I suppose.”

“Come on.” He was up and pulling her to her feet.

“Where?”

“We'll have a quick shower, then I need to talk to you.”

Hester accepted his offer of a robe and tried not to worry about what he had to say. She understood Mitch well enough to know he was full of surprises. The trouble was, she wasn't certain she was ready for another. Shoulders tense, she sat beside him on the couch and waited.

“You look like you're waiting for the blindfold and your last cigarette.”

Hester shook back her still damp hair and tried to smile. “No, it's just that you sounded so serious.”

“I've told you before, I have my serious moments.” He shoved magazines off the table with his foot. “I had some news today, and I haven't decided how I feel about it. I wanted to see what you thought.”

“Your family?” she began, instantly concerned.

“No.” He took her hand. “I guess I'm making it sound like bad news, and it's not. At least I don't think it is. A production company in Hollywood just cut a deal with Universal to make a movie out of Zark.”

Hester stared at him a moment, then blinked. “A movie. Well, that's wonderful. Isn't it? I mean, I know he's very popular in comics, but a movie would be even bigger. You should be thrilled and very proud that your work can translate that way.”

“I just don't know if they can pull it off, if they can bring him to the screen with the right tone, the right emotion. Don't look at me that way.”

“Mitch, I know how you feel about Zark. At least I think I do. He's your creation, and he's important to you.”

“He's real to me,” Mitch corrected. “Up here,” he said, tapping his temple. “And, as corny as it might sound, in here.” He touched a hand to his heart. “He made a difference in my life, made a difference in how I looked at myself and my work. I don't want to see them screw him up and make him into some cardboard hero or, worse, into something infallible and perfect.”

Hester was silent a moment. She began to understand that giving birth to an idea might be as life-altering as giving birth to a child. “Let me ask you something: why did you create him?”

“I wanted to make a hero—a very human one—with flaws and vulnerabilities, and I guess with high standards. Someone kids could relate to because he was just flesh and blood, but powerful enough inside to fight back. Kids don't have a hell of a lot of choices, you know. I remember when I was young I wanted to be able to say, ‘No, I don't want to. I don't like that.' When I read, I could see there were possibilities, ways out. That's what I wanted Zark to be.”

“Do you think you succeeded?”

“Yeah. On a personal level, I succeeded when I came up with the first issue. Professionally, Zark has pushed Universal to the top. He translates into millions of dollars a year for the business.”

“Do you resent that?”

“No, why should I?”

“Then you shouldn't resent seeing him take the next step.”

Mitch fell silent, thinking. He might have known Hester would see things more clearly and be able to cut through everything to the most practical level. Wasn't that just one more reason he needed her?

“They offered to let me do the screenplay.”

“What?” She was sitting straight up now, eyes wide. “Oh, Mitch, that's wonderful. I'm so proud of you.”

He continued to play with her fingers. “I haven't done it yet.”

“Don't you think you can?”

“I'm not sure.”

She started to speak, then caught herself. After a moment, she spoke carefully. “Strange, if anyone had asked, I would have said you were the most self-confident man I'd ever met. Added to that, I'd have said that you'd be much too selfish with Zark to let anyone else write him.”

“There's a difference between writing a story line for a comic series and writing a screenplay for a major motion picture.”

“So?”

He had to laugh. “Tossing my own words back at me, aren't you?”

“You can write, I'd be the first to say that you have a very fluid imagination, and you know your character better than anyone else. I don't see the problem.”

“Screwing up is the problem. Anyway, if I don't do the script, they want me as creative consultant.”

“I can't tell you what to do, Mitch.”

“But?”

She leaned forward, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Write the script, Mitch. You'll hate yourself if you don't try. There aren't any guarantees, but if you don't take the risk, there's no reward, either.”

He lifted a hand to hers and held it firmly as he watched her. “Do you really feel that way?”

“Yes, I do. I also believe in you.” She leaned closer and touched her mouth to his.

“Marry me, Hester.”

With her lips still on his, she froze. Slowly, very slowly, she drew away. “What?”

“Marry me.” He took her hands in his to hold them still. “I love you.”

“Don't. Please don't do this.”

“Don't what? Don't love you?” He tightened his grip as she struggled to pull away. “It's a great deal too late for that, and I think you know it. I'm not lying when I tell you that I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I want to spend my life with you.”

“I can't.” Her voice was breathless. It seemed each word she pushed out seared the back of her throat. “I can't marry you. I don't want to marry anyone. You don't understand what you're asking.”

“Just because I haven't been there doesn't mean I don't know.” He'd expected surprise, even some resistance. But he could see now he'd totally miscalculated. There was out-and-out fear in her eyes and full panic in her voice. “Hester, I'm not Allan, and we both know you're not the same woman you were when you were married to him.”

“It doesn't matter. I'm not going through that again, and I won't put Radley through it.” She pulled away and started to dress. “You're not being reasonable.”

“
I'm not?
” Struggling for calm, he walked behind her and began to do up her buttons. Her back went rigid. “You're the one who's basing her feelings now on something that happened years ago.”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Maybe not, and maybe now's not the best time, but you're going to have to.” Though she resisted, he turned her around. “We're going to have to.”

She wanted to get away, far enough that she could bury everything that had been said. But for the moment she had to face it. “Mitch, we've known each other for a matter of weeks, and we've just begun to be able to accept what's happening between us.”

“What
is
happening?” he demanded. “Aren't you the one who said at the beginning that you weren't interested in casual sex?”

She paled a bit, then turned away to pick up her suit jacket. “There wasn't anything casual about it.”

“No, there wasn't, not for either of us. You understand that?”

“Yes, but—”

“Hester, I said I loved you. Now I want to know how you feel about me.”

“I don't know.” She let out a gasp when he grabbed her shoulders again. “I tell you I don't know. I think I love you. Today. You're asking me to risk everything I've done, the life I've built for myself and Rad, over an emotion I already know can change overnight.”

“Love doesn't change overnight,” he corrected. “It can be killed or it can be nurtured. That's up to the people involved. I want a commitment from you, a family, and I want to give those things back to you.”

“Mitch, this is all happening too fast, much too fast for both of us.”

“Damn it, Hester, I'm thirty-five years old, not some kid with hot pants and no brains. I don't want to marry you so I can have convenient sex and a hot breakfast, but because I know we could have something together, something real, something important.”

“You don't know what marriage is like; you're only imagining.”

“And you're only remembering a bad one. Hester, look at me. Look at me,” he demanded again. “When the hell are you going to stop using Radley's father as a yardstick?”

“He's the only one I've got.” She shook him off again and tried to catch her breath. “Mitch, I'm flattered that you want me.”

“The hell with that.”

“Please.” She dragged a hand through her hair. “I do care about you, and the only thing I'm really sure of is that I don't want to lose you.”

“Marriage isn't the end of a relationship, Hester.”

“I can't think about marriage. I'm sorry.” The panic flowed in and out of her voice until she was forced to stop and calm it. “If you don't want to see me anymore, I'll try to understand. But I'd rather . . . I hope we can just let things go on the way they are.”

He dug his hands into his pockets. He had a habit of pushing too far too fast and knew it. But he hated to waste the time he could already imagine them having together. “For how long, Hester?”

“For as long as it lasts.” She closed her eyes. “That sounds hard. I don't mean it to. You mean a great deal to me, more than I thought anyone ever would again.”

Mitch brushed a finger over her cheek and brought it away wet. “A low blow,” he murmured, studying the tear.

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to do this. I had no idea that you were thinking along these lines.”

“I can see that.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “In three dimensions.”

“I've hurt you. I can't tell you how much I regret that.”

“Don't. I asked for it. The truth is, I hadn't planned on asking you to marry me for at least a week.”

She started to touch his hand, then stopped. “Mitch, can we just forget all this, go on as we were?”

He reached out and straightened the collar of her jacket. “I'm afraid not. I've made up my mind, Hester. That's something I try to do only once or twice a year. Once I've done it, there's no turning back.” His gaze came up to hers with that rush of intensity she felt to the bone. “I'm going to marry you, sooner or later. If it has to be later, that's fine. I'll just give you some time to get used to it.”

“Mitch, I won't change my mind. It wouldn't be fair if I let you think I would. It isn't a matter of a whim, but of a promise I made to myself.”

“Some promises are best broken.”

She shook her head. “I don't know what else to say. I just wish—”

He pressed his finger to her lips. “We'll talk about it later. I'll take you back to work.”

“No, don't bother. Really,” she said when he started to argue. “I'd like some time to think, anyway. Being with you makes that difficult.”

“That's a good start.” He took her chin in his hand and studied her face. “You look fine, but next time don't cry when I ask you to marry me. It's hell on the ego.” He kissed her before she could speak. “See you later, Mrs. Wallace. Thanks for lunch.”

A little dazed, she walked out into the hall. “I'll call you later.”

“Do that. I'll be around.”

He closed the door, then turned to lean back against it. Hurt? He rubbed a spot just under his heart. Damn right it hurt. If anyone had told him that being in love could cause the heart to twist, he'd have continued to avoid it. He'd had a twinge when his long-ago love in New Orleans had deserted him. It hadn't prepared him for this sledgehammer blow. What could possibly have?

But he wasn't giving up. What he had to do was figure out a plan of attack—subtle, clever and irresistible. Mitch glanced down at Taz consideringly.

“Where do you think Hester would like to go on our honeymoon?”

The dog grumbled, then rolled over on his back.

“No,” Mitch decided. “Bermuda's overdone. Never mind, I'll come up with something.”

Chapter 10

“Radley, you and your friends have to tone down the volume on the war, please.” Hester took the measuring tape from around her neck and stretched it out over the wall space. Perfect, she thought with a satisfied nod. Then she took the pencil from behind her ear to mark two
X
s where the nails would go.

The little glass shelves she would hang were a present to herself, one that was completely unnecessary and pleased her a great deal. She didn't consider the act of hanging them herself a show of competence or independence, but simply one more of the ordinary chores she'd been doing on her own for years. With a hammer in one hand, she lined up the first nail. She'd given it two good whacks when someone knocked on the door.

“Just a minute.” She gave the nail a final smack. From Radley's bedroom came the sounds of antiaircraft and whistling missiles. Hester took the second nail out of her mouth and stuck it in her pocket. “Rad, we're going to be arrested for disturbing the peace.” She opened the door to Mitch. “Hi.”

The pleasure showed instantly, gratifying him. It had been two days since he'd seen her, since he'd told her he loved her and wanted to marry her. In two days he'd done a lot of hard thinking and could only hope that, despite herself, Hester had done some thinking too.

“Doing some remodeling?” he asked with a nod at the hammer.

“Just hanging a shelf.” She wrapped both hands around the handle of the hammer, feeling like a teenager. “Come in.”

He glanced toward Radley's room as she shut the door. It sounded as though a major air strike was in progress. “You didn't mention you were opening a playground.”

“It's been a lifelong dream of mine. Rad, they've just signed a treaty—hold your fire!” With a cautious smile for Mitch, she waved him toward a chair. “Radley has Josh over today, and Ernie—Ernie lives upstairs and goes to school with Rad.”

“Sure, the Bitterman kid. I know him. Nice,” he commented as he looked at the shelves.

“They're a present for completing a successful month at National Trust.” Hester ran a finger along a beveled edge. She really did want this more than a new outfit.

“You're on the reward program?”

“Self-reward.”

“The best kind. Want me to finish that for you?”

“Oh?” She glanced down at the hammer. “Oh, no, thanks. I can do it. Why don't you sit down? I'll get you some coffee.”

“You hang the shelf; I'll get the coffee.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And relax, will you?”

“Mitch.” He'd taken only two steps away when she reached for his arm. “I'm awfully glad to see you. I was afraid, well, that you were angry.”

“Angry?” He gave her a baffled look. “About what?”

“About . . .” She trailed off as he continued to stare at her in a half-interested, half-curious way that made her wonder if she'd imagined everything he'd said. “Nothing.” She dug the nail out of her pocket. “Help yourself to the coffee.”

“Thanks.” He grinned at the back of her head. He'd done exactly what he'd set out to do—confuse her. Now she'd be thinking about him, about what had been said between them. The more she thought about it, the closer she'd be to seeing reason.

Whistling between his teeth, he strolled into the kitchen while Hester banged in the second nail.

He
had
asked her to marry him. She remembered everything he'd said, everything she'd said in return. And she knew that he'd been angry and hurt. Hadn't she spent two days regretting that she'd had to cause that? Now he strolled in as though nothing had happened.

Hester set down the hammer, then lifted the shelves. Maybe he'd cooled off enough to be relieved that she'd said no. That could be it, she decided, wondering why the idea didn't ease her mind as much as it should have.

“You made cookies.” Mitch came in carrying two mugs, with a plate of fresh cookies balanced on top of one.

“This morning.” She smiled over her shoulder as she adjusted the shelves.

“You want to bring that up a little on the right.” He sat on the arm of a chair, then set her mug down so his hands would be free for the chocolate-chip cookies. “Terrific,” he decided after the first bite. “And, if I say so myself, I'm an expert.”

“I'm glad they pass.” With her mind on her shelves, Hester stepped back to admire them.

“It's important. I don't know if I could marry a woman who made lousy cookies.” He picked up a second one and examined it. “Yeah, maybe I could,” he said as Hester turned slowly to stare at him. “But it would be tough.” He devoured the second one and smiled at her. “Luckily, it won't have to be an issue.”

“Mitch.” Before she could work out what to say, Radley came barreling in, his two friends behind him.

“Mitch!” Delighted with the company, Radley screeched to a halt beside him so that Mitch's arm went naturally around his shoulders. “We just had the neatest battle. We're the only survivors.”

“Hungry work. Have a cookie.”

Radley took one and shoved it into his mouth. “We've got to go up to Ernie's and get more weapons.” He reached for another cookie, then caught his mother's eye. “You didn't bring Taz up.”

“He stayed up late watching a movie. He's sleeping in today.”

“Okay.” Radley accepted this before turning to his mother. “Is it okay if we go up to Ernie's for a while?”

“Sure. Just don't go outside unless you let me know.”

“We won't. You guys go ahead. I gotta get something.”

He raced back to the bedroom while his friends trooped to the door.

“I'm glad he's making some new friends,” Hester commented as she reached for her mug. “He was worried about it.”

“Radley's not the kind of kid who has trouble making friends.”

“No, he's not.”

“He's also fortunate to have a mother who lets them come around and bakes cookies for them.” He took another sip of coffee. His mother's cook had baked little cakes. He thought Hester would understand it wasn't quite the same thing. “Of course, once we're married, we'll have to give him some brothers and sisters. What are you going to put on the shelf?”

“Useless things,” she murmured, staring at him. “Mitch, I don't want to fight, but I think we should clear this up.”

“Clear what up? Oh, I meant to tell you I started on the script. It's going pretty well.”

“I'm glad.” And confused. “Really, that's wonderful, but I think we should talk about this business first.”

“Sure, what business was that?”

She opened her mouth and was once more interrupted by her son. When Radley came in, Hester walked away to put a small china cat on the bottom shelf.

“I made something for you in school.” Embarrassed, Radley held his hands behind his back.

“Yeah?” Mitch set his coffee down. “Do I get to see it?”

“It's Valentine's Day, you know.” After a moment's hesitation, he handed Mitch a card fashioned out of construction paper and blue ribbon. “I made Mom this heart with lace stuff, but I thought the ribbon was better for guys.” Radley shuffled his feet. “It opens.”

Not certain he could trust his voice, Mitch opened the card. Radley had used his very best block printing.

“To my best friend, Mitch. I love you, Radley.” He had to clear his throat, and hoped he wouldn't make a fool out of himself. “It's great. I, ah, nobody ever made me a card before.”

“Really?” Embarrassment faded with surprise. “I make them for Mom all the time. She says she likes them better than the ones you buy.”

“I like this one a lot better,” Mitch told him. He wasn't sure boys that were nearly ten tolerated being kissed, but he ran a hand over Radley's hair and kissed him anyway. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome. See ya.”

“Yeah.” Mitch heard the door slam as he stared down at the little folded piece of construction paper.

“I didn't know he'd made it,” Hester said quietly. “I guess he wanted to keep it a secret.”

“He did a nice job.” At the moment, he didn't have the capacity to explain what the paper and ribbon meant to him. Rising, he walked to the window with the card in his hands. “I'm crazy about him.”

“I know.” She moistened her lips. She did know it. If she'd ever doubted the extent of Mitch's feelings for her son, she'd just seen full proof of it. It only made things more difficult. “In just a few weeks, you've done so much for him. I know neither one of us have the right to expect you to be there, but I want you to know it means a lot that you are.”

He had to clamp down on a surge of fury. He didn't want her gratitude, but one hell of a lot more. Keep cool, Dempsey, he warned himself. “The best advice I can give you is to get used to it, Hester.”

“That's exactly what I can't do.” Driven, she went to him. “Mitch, I do care for you, but I'm not going to depend on you. I can't afford to expect or anticipate or rely.”

“So you've said.” He set the card down carefully on the table. “I'm not arguing.”

“What were you saying before—”

“What did I say?”

“About when we were married.”

“Did I say that?” He smiled at her as he wound her hair around his finger. “I don't know what I could have been thinking of.”

“Mitch, I have a feeling you're trying to throw me off guard.”

“Is it working?”

Treat it lightly, she told herself. If he wanted to make a game of it, she'd oblige him. “Only to the point that it confirms what I've always thought about you. You're a very strange man.”

“In what context?”

“Okay, to begin with, you talk to your dog.”

“He talks back, so that doesn't count. Try again.” With her hair still wound around his finger, he tugged her a bit closer. Whether she realized it or not, they were talking about their relationship, and she was relaxed.

“You write comic books for a living. And you read them.”

“Being a woman with banking experience, you should understand the importance of a good investment. Do you know what the double issue of my
Defenders of Perth
is worth to a collector? Modesty prevents me from naming figures.”

“I bet it does.”

He acknowledged this with a slight nod. “And, Mrs. Wallace, I'd be happy to debate the value of literature in any form with you. Did I mention that I was captain of the debating team in high school?”

“No.” She had her hands on his chest, once again drawn to the tough, disciplined body beneath the tattered sweater. “There's also the fact that you haven't thrown out a newspaper or magazine in five years.”

“I'm saving up for the big paper drive of the second millennium. Conservation is my middle name.”

“You also have an answer for everything.”

“There's only one I want from you. Did I mention that I fell for your eyes right after I fell for your legs?”

“No, you didn't.” Her lips curved just a little. “I never told you that the first time I saw you, through the peephole, I stared at you for a long time.”

“I know.” He grinned back at her. “If you look in those things right, you can see a shadow.”

“Oh,” she said, and could think of nothing else to say.

“You know, Mrs. Wallace, those kids could come running back in here anytime. Do you mind if we stop talking for a few minutes?”

“No.” She slipped her arms around him. “I don't mind at all.”

She didn't want to admit even to herself that she felt safe, protected, with his arms around her. But she did. She didn't want to accept that she'd been afraid of losing him, terrified of the hole he would have left in her life. But the fear had been very real. It faded now as she lifted her lips to his.

She couldn't think about tomorrow or the future Mitch sketched so easily with talk of marriage and family. She'd been taught that marriage was forever, but she'd learned that it was a promise easily made and easily broken. There would be no more broken promises in her life, no more broken vows.

Feelings might rush through her, bringing with them longings and silver-dusted dreams. Her heart might be lost to him, but her will was still her own. Even as her hands gripped him tighter, pulled him closer, Hester told herself it was that will that would save them both unhappiness later.

“I love you, Hester.” He murmured the words against her mouth, knowing she might not want to hear them but that it was something he had to say. If he said it enough, she might begin to believe the words and, more, the meaning behind them.

He wanted forever from her—forever for her—not just a moment like this, stolen in the sunlight that poured through the window, or other moments, taken in the shadows. Only once before had he wanted anything with something close to this intensity. That had been something abstract, something nebulous called art. The time had eventually come when he'd been forced to admit that dream would never be within reach.

But Hester was here in his arms. He could hold her like this and taste the sweet, warm longings that stirred in her. She wasn't a dream, but a woman he loved and wanted and would have. If keeping her meant playing games until the layers of her resistance were washed away, then he'd play.

He lifted his hands to her face, twining his fingers into her hair. “I guess the kids will be coming back.”

“Probably.” Her lips sought his again. Had she ever felt this sense of urgency before? “I wish we had more time.”

“Do you?”

Her eyes were half closed as he drew away. “Yes.”

“Let me come back tonight.”

“Oh, Mitch.” She stepped into his arms to rest her head on his shoulder. For the first time in a decade, she found the mother and the woman at war. “I want you. You know that, don't you?”