Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 (39 page)

BOOK: Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6
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“Andy?”

Pride was evident as he declared, “Andrew Matthew, after her grandfather. Lorena adored him. The estate up here was built by him, but it belongs to Mrs. Vordane now, like everything else,” he added grimly.

“So!” she teased, happy with what Colt had told her. “Now we know the reason you claim to have been so drawn to me. Your wife closed her door, so you were just looking for any woman to satisfy your male urges, weren’t you?”

He did not laugh, did not find her teasing humorous. He put his arms around her and pulled her so close against him she could hear the fierce pounding of his heart as he vehemently cried, “That’s not true, dammit, and you know it. You
know
things you aren’t telling me, Jade. You and I loved once, and we loved hard, and we loved strong, and something terrible tore us apart. You know what that something was, and by God, sooner or later you’re going to tell me.’’

He was holding her so tightly she had to struggle against him to breathe, and, shaken by his ferocity, his nearness, she feebly affirmed, “Yes, one day I will, but not now. There are things I’ve got to do first…before I have that right.”

“Then do them,” he said, almost savagely, “but for now, show me how you once loved me…”

Chapter Thirty

Jade found herself in the first painful quandary of her life. Colt begged her to tell him the truth; she could not. He said they had to find a way to be together forever, but how could they when there were so many hearts, so many lives involved? Bryan had never harmed her or hurt her, only loved her. Colt could not say Lorena had ever been cruel. And what about his child? So could they just walk away from people who loved them to selfishly be together? They could not, at this point, say yes; they also knew, beyond a doubt, that they could not turn from each other.

When she returned to New York, body and lips warm with the memory of Colt’s caresses and kisses, Jade felt no guilt or sense of betrayal—only sadness…sadness to contemplate the maelstrom that each of their lives had become. The
true
torment came from wondering
why
it had all come to pass…and, by God, she intended to find out.

Bryan was not home when she arrived on that Wednesday, and Lita arrogantly told her he had gone to Philadelphia on business and wouldn’t be back until the weekend. It seemed to please her to be able to say, “He wasn’t at all happy that you didn’t come back after the weekend, deciding to stay a few extra days,
and
he also didn’t like your not taking me with you.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Jade murmured, moving on to leaf through the stack of invitations that had arrived during her absence. “How did things go at the studio?”

To Jade’s delight, Lita told her fourteen students had registered at the school during her absence—four adult couples for the waltz, and the rest were interested in ballet, which she was happiest to hear.

Thursday morning, Jade rose early and left the house before anyone else was up and about so as to reach Bryan’s office before Miss Pearson arrived, and have a chance to look for the Pinkerton file. It was easy to let herself in, having found his keys in his bureau drawer. The building was quiet, deserted, and she speculated she had at least an hour to prowl about before anyone would arrive.

Bryan’s private office was as neat and orderly as he was. There were no papers on his desk, so she turned first to his file cabinets. Leafing through those, she found nothing but business records. Then she went to his desk and began to rummage through the drawers, careful to put everything back as it was so he wouldn’t know anyone had been through his things.

Still she found nothing.

A glance at the giltwood cartel clock on the wall warned time was running out—it was nearly nine, and Miss Pearson would be coming in at any minute.

She was about to leave when her eye fell on the large painting on the wall behind Bryan’s desk. Of course! She rushed toward it, remembering the safe there. He had opened it one day, taken out money to give to her because the banks were closed.

She slid the painting to one side; her heart leaped at the sight of the round metal door, but sank once more when a quick yank on the handle told her it was locked. A combination, too, and she had no idea where it would be written.
Damn, damn, damn
, she cursed under her breath. The file was nowhere else to be found. It had to be in the safe!

Just then she heard a sound from the outer office. She turned and through the frosted pane of Bryan’s door she could see the shadow of someone entering. Miss Pearson. Jade froze. What possible excuse could she use for being in Bryan’s office at such an early hour?

Then, miraculously, Jade offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving to her guardian angel for blessing her with a quickly fabricated alibi. Hoping her expression looked properly agitated, she walked straight to the door, flung it open, and, to Miss Pearson’s wide, surprised eyes, breathlessly announced, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. Honestly, Bryan can leave at the most inconvenient times!”

Miss Pearson was at once solicitous. “Oh, what’s wrong, Mrs. Stevens? What can I do?”

Jade anxiously waved her into Bryan’s office, feigning exasperation as she lied, “There’s an important paper connected with my studio that I can’t seem to find, and I’ve turned the house upside down. The only place it can be is in the safe, and I’ve forgotten the combination, and I can’t wait till he gets back.” She gave a helpless shrug. “I just hope
you
know it.”

“Oh, of course!”

It had worked.

When the safe door was opened, Miss Pearson stepped back but made no move to leave Jade alone, and Jade had no intention of looking for the file in front of her. Airily, she motioned her to the door, said, “Thank you, thank you, but run along, dear. This is a personal matter…”

She let her voice trail off pointedly.

Bryan’s secretary took the hint. “Oh, of course. Just take your time. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“Oh, Miss Pearson,” Jade called shortly.

She turned expectantly.

Conspiringly, Jade grinned. “Let’s keep this between us girls, all right? I don’t want Bryan knowing what a featherhead I am. Might make him feel indispensable, you know.”

Miss Pearson laughed knowingly. “Of course. I understand, and I won’t say a word. I may not be married, but I know how men are,” she added in camaraderie.

Alone, hands trembling, Jade began to search through the papers in the safe. There were stock certificates, deeds to property, the usual business things.

Then, in the very back, she found what she was looking for—a brown envelope scrawled with a single name that screamed out at her:
COLTRANE
.

Feverishly, she withdrew it. Her knees began to buckle with the immensity of the moment, and she backed toward Bryan’s chair, eased herself down, breath coming in slow, even gasps. It was sealed, but that made no difference. Picking up a silver letter opener from the desk, she slit the envelope across the top, then took out the folded papers inside.

She began to read, and slowly, like the creeping, crawling legs of a giant spider, a web of fury descended. Bryan had known everything!

John Travis Coltrane
, read the Pinkerton report,
reportedly married to one Lorena Kathleen Vordane in Paris, France, August, 1893.

Jade pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples as she stared down at the papers. “I don’t believe it,” she hoarsely whispered. “I just don’t believe it. Why? Dear God, why?”

She read on, eyes widening ever more. The Pinkerton detectives had reported that Colt had been injured on board the ship, though they had been unable to ascertain the details of the accident. Checking hospital records, they found that when the ship had docked in New York, Colt had immediately been taken by ambulance to a private hospital where he had remained for approximately two months. During that time he had regained consciousness, but confidential interviews with one of his doctors revealed the diagnosis of amnesia due to a severe blow on the head. He was finally discharged to the care of his “wife”, and his prognosis was listed as “Unknown at this time”, which meant, Jade knew, that the doctors would not speculate as to whether Colt would ever regain his memory.

She clenched her fists and pounded the desktop, hot tears of rage stinging her eyes.

Bryan had known!

She had no doubt as to why he’d kept the information from her; he knew that if she learned the truth, she would not have married him, and she wouldn’t have, by God. She’d had moved heaven and hell to reclaim her husband! No matter that Bryan’s motive was his love for her. She realized now that all along she’d never made any decisions in their relationship based on her love for him; it was always her awareness of how much he loved her. In the wake of discovering how deceitful he’d been, it was hard to remember ever loving Bryan in any way.

No matter what the future held with Colt, one thing was clear: it was the beginning of the end of her marriage to Bryan.

With rage ringing in her ears, Jade made her way past Miss Pearson and out of the building, the file clutched in her hand. Over on the street, she quickly decided to go to the private hospital mentioned in the report and speak with one of Colt’s doctors.

She arrived at the hospital just before noon. It was situated at the top of a knoll—a stone and wood building of Tudor design. The driveway was lined with meticulously sculptured evergreens, and the entire area was surrounded by a high stone wall. The front gate, of ornate wrought iron, was closed, and a bored-looking guard sat in a little cubicle to one side.

He did not return her greetings of a good afternoon, but instead crisply informed her, “Visiting hours aren’t till two, madam.”

She presented her most beguiling smile. “Oh, I’m not here to visit a patient. I’m only in town for the day, and it’s very important that I speak with one of the doctors.”

He regarded her skeptically. “Which doctor?”

She randomly named one of the three from the report. “Dr. Compton. Dr. Iredell Compton.”

He shook his head. “Sorry. He’s in Vienna. Won’t be back till maybe November, I hear.”

Jade stiffened, cast aside the coaxing charm, became assertive. “Then I’ll speak with Dr. Nicholas Georgaide or Dr. Peter Grenovich. My good man”—she lifted her chin to give him a condescending look—“I told you that I’m only here for one day, and I have important business with one of those doctors. Now if you don’t admit me through this gate, I warn you, you’ll regret it.”

He muttered under his breath that he had other things to do besides, argue, then got up and opened the gate, motioned her inside, and went back to his cubicle.

She hurried up the driveway and entered the hospital through an archway, then heavy wooden doors.

A pinch-faced nurse in white looked up at her coolly. “Yes? May I help you? Visiting hours aren’t—”

“Till two. I know,” Jade brusquely finished for her. “I’m here to see either Dr. Georgaide or Dr. Grenovich about my brother, who was a patient here awhile back.” She went on to tell the story she’d made up on her way over, that she was visiting from France, her name was Daniella Coltrane, and she wanted to inquire about the present condition of her brother, John Travis “Colt” Coltrane.

The nurse nodded as she spoke. “Yes, I remember Mr. Coltrane—a very handsome man, very charming. Everyone here regarded him highly. You just wait here a moment, and I’m sure one of the doctors will be happy to talk to you.”

She disappeared behind a swinging door. Jade glanced about the room, noted with disinterest that it was furnished elegantly. Just being there, she realized, in the place where Colt had lain so very long, needing her, wanting her, and thinking Lorena was her, filled her with unbearable pain. And all the while she’d been so near, could have been there to see him through those anguished hours. Oh, damn Bryan, she thought with gritted teeth and clenched fists. She only hoped she could keep from him that she knew of his deception until she decided exactly what to do about it. And damn Lorena and her mother for their part, too. She looked forward to the day she would deal with
them
!

At last the door swung open, and the nurse introduced Dr. Grenovich.

“I think we’ll be more comfortable in my office, Miss Coltrane.” He beckoned her to follow him.

He had a kind face, compassionate blue eyes, and Jade felt at ease with him as she sat before his desk and repeated her lie about being Colt’s sister. “What I want to know, Doctor…what the family wants to know is the truth about my brother’s condition, his chances for full recovery. His wife”—she nearly choked on the word—“is rather vague.”

He leaned back in his chair, templed his fingers in contemplation. “Has she had her baby?”

Once more Jade felt a tightening in her throat. Nodding, she affirmed, “Yes. A boy.”

“That’s nice,” he murmured in the tone people use when they don’t really care but feel the need to be polite. “She was very preoccupied with her condition, as I recall.”

Jade detected a touch of sarcasm, did not have time to dwell on it, for he went on to say that he was glad to finally hear from some of Colt’s family.

“How is he really, Doctor? He says he still has dizzy spells, headaches—”

“I told Colt that comes from trying too hard to remember,” the doctor interjected tersely, frowning. “He should just relax, not think about the past but concentrate on the present—the future—and maybe one day it will all come back.”

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