Loving Laura (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy) (29 page)

Neil’s heart turned over, and he scrambled to his feet. Without another word, she motioned for him to follow her, and like a sleepwalker, he did. She walked swiftly down the long hallway toward the back of the building. She opened a door that led to a second courtyard, and he was right behind. They passed a building that looked like a schoolhouse, another that looked like a chapel, and yet another. Finally she stopped. She pointed to a greenhouse a few feet away. She smiled faintly. “You’ll find her in there.”

Then she walked away.

Neil walked slowly toward the greenhouse. He was afraid to hope. Would Celeste be willing to help him? Or would she know the whole story and hate him? He could hardly believe he’d been lucky enough to find her here, at the convent.

He pushed open the greenhouse door and walked in. The air was thick and moist and warm. Plants and flowers and vegetables of every description were growing from pots and beds and tubs. Despite the fog, the greenhouse was full of light. Someone was working at the far end.

Neil’s heart stopped. He would have recognized her anywhere. Her back was to him; she wasn’t aware of his presence yet. She was wearing pale blue cotton pants of some sort and a long, blousy cotton top with rolled up sleeves and gardening gloves. Her silky hair was longer, and had been pulled back and tied with a red bow. Her slender back looked vulnerable and defenseless as she knelt there working. Pete and Phoebe were nosing around at her feet, and Pete turned, his yellow-green eyes big and unblinking.

“Laura.” Her name came out like a croak. Neil swallowed. His heart had started beating again, and it pounded against his chest wall like a demented prisoner trying to escape.

She stiffened. For agonizing seconds, she didn’t move. Then, slowly, very slowly, she rose awkwardly to her feet. For one heart-stopping moment, everything went still. Neil was sure she could hear his heart carrying on inside him. He was acutely aware of everything. All his senses strained toward her.

Then she turned, and Neil felt as if someone had slammed into him with a truck.

He stared, unable to believe what he was seeing. Their eyes locked, hers so incredibly blue, so incredibly clear, so incredibly beautiful. She didn’t speak, but her eyes answered his question.
Yes,
they seemed to say.
Yes. This is your baby.

His gaze slid down her body, fastening on her swollen stomach.

Pregnant.
The knowledge beat against his brain like a thousand moths’ wings. The night he’d left her crying as if her heart would break. Even then. She had known, but she hadn’t said a word to try to keep him.

He closed his eyes, stunned by what he now knew. My God. No wonder she’d left Patinville. She must have felt so alone. He felt like crying, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat. He took a step toward her.

* * *

Laura couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. Her mind whirled in senseless frenzy. What was Neil doing here? How had he found her? Why didn’t he say something? And then he took a step forward.

Her nerveless fingers dropped the trowel she’d been holding. Her hands were shaking as she clutched them protectively against her stomach. She could feel the baby kicking.

Why
didn’t
he say something?

And then he reached for her, pulling her into his arms, and he was kissing her with frantic, greedy kisses. The kisses landed everywhere. On her nose. On her eyes. All over her face. “Oh, Laura, my God, Laura,” he muttered, over and over again. “Thank God I’ve found you.”

“Neil,” she cried, her voice thick with tears. “Oh, Neil.”

“I looked everywhere for you. Everywhere. I was just about crazy. I thought if I didn’t find you soon, I’d go nuts!”

His mouth captured hers in a deep, urgent kiss that lit Laura’s veins with liquid fire. She clutched at his hair, and his hands were all over her, touching her as if he couldn’t believe she was real. When he finally dragged his mouth from hers and lowered his head to her neck, her mouth felt bruised, but her heart was singing.

“Finally I decided the only chance I had was to come here, try to find Celeste.” He groaned, holding her close against him.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she cried, and the tears she’d been trying to suppress ever since she’d seen him standing there slipped down her cheeks.

“Oh,
chére,
don’t cry,” he whispered, gently wiping her tears from her face and tilting her chin up. “I love you so much. I was such a stupid fool. Can you ever forgive me?”

Laura smiled through her tears and lifted her face like a flower lifts itself toward the sun. “All that matters is that you’re here now.”

“I’ll never leave you again.” He touched her stomach, his hand gentle as it caressed the sloping curves. He bent down, placing his lips against the rounded swell, and she felt the heat of his breath through her clothes. She was so happy she wanted to cry again.

“Oh, Neil, I love you so,” she said.

“And I love you.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard your voice.”

“I know. I know. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you standing there. When did you come here? Why did you come here?”

She looked at his dear face. She could see all the worry lines etched around his eyes, the love shining in their dark liquid depths. “After I left Patinville, I went to Los Angeles first. Then, a few days later, I went up to Crescent City, where Celeste is. I... I didn’t know what else to do.”

His arms tightened around her, and his face twisted. She knew he was thinking that he hadn’t been there for her when she needed him. Her heart was so full it was hard to continue. “Celeste put me in touch with a friend of hers in San Francisco. I stayed with Jackie for a couple of months and worked temporary jobs. Then, last month, Celeste called Mother Ambrose and arranged for me to come here until the baby was born.” She smiled. “The nuns have been so kind. I’ve been helping Mother Ambrose in the office, with the books, and she lets me putter around out here.”

“Oh, Laura, Laura,
chére.
I’m so sorry for putting you through all this. Thank God you’ve had a good place to stay and people who care about you. But I intend to make all this up to you. I want you with me. We belong together. You, me, and our baby.” Then he kissed her again, but now the kiss wasn’t so frenzied. This was a gentle kiss, a loving kiss, and warmth spread itself everywhere, filling her with a sweet radiance. “Will you marry me, Laura?” he whispered as the kiss ended.

“You know I will,” she whispered, her breath mingling with his.

“I have something for you,” he said. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small velvet box. “I’ve been carrying this around with me ever since I bought it in Baton Rouge.”

In the red-gold rays of the evening light, Laura saw him lift a thin band of gold encrusted with tiny diamonds out of the box. “Oh, Neil,” she said as he slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand.

“Look at it, Laura,” he said, his voice gruff. “It’s a circle, and it’s my promise to you. Every time you look at it, I want you to know that it represents that circle of love you told me about, a circle that’s going to enclose you and me and our children, forever.”

And as his arms enfolded her once more, Laura was filled with wonder and joy and a deep, rich contentment and peace.

She had finally left the darkness behind. She was home. At last.

* * * * *

Chapter One

New Orleans, late January, 1997 . . .

That man was watching her.

Nicole Cantrelle hated it when men stared at her, and usually she just ignored them. But something about the way this man watched her gave her a creepy feeling, and she couldn’t dismiss him so easily.

He stood sheltered from the heavy rain in the recessed doorway of one of the many pricey antique shops on Royal Street. He was tall and broad-shouldered and wore some kind of army green all-weather jacket. On his head was a camouflage hat, and the front brim was pulled down over his face.

She knew his eyes followed her as she walked past him; she could feel them even when she could no longer see them. Because it was early morning, and there were dozens of other people walking the streets of the French Quarter— most on their way to work as she was—she wasn’t really nervous.

Still... she frowned, clutched her big totebag more securely against her body, and walked faster through the deluge. For three days New Orleans had been subjected to a steady downpour, and the early-morning sky looked leaden.

A half-block past the antique shop, Nicole’s spine prickled.
He was following her.
She stopped so abruptly that a woman walking behind her plowed right into her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said.

Nicole looked back at the shop, but she didn’t see the man. She searched the faces of the people on the street. He wasn’t among them. What had happened to him? Shivering, she continued on her way.

When she reached St. Peter’s, she turned left. She couldn’t rid herself of that peculiar sensation of being followed. Her heart pumped erratically, and she whipped around. An older man with a cane shuffled slowly about six feet behind her. There was no one else on the street.

“You’re getting paranoid,” she muttered aloud. “Maybe he was just admiring your legs.”

Pulling the hood of her yellow slicker closer to her head, she sprinted the last block and a half to her office, careful to avoid the puddles. She was wearing new boots, and she didn’t want to ruin them.

She didn’t look back again.

* * *

“Nicole, have you finished the Menard brief?”

Nicole tapped the Save button on her keyboard, then turned to face her boss, Julianne Belizaire. “It’s printing now.”

“Good.” Julianne, a petite brunette with hazel eyes that blazed with intelligence, stood at Nicole’s desk and sorted through the mail Nicole hadn’t yet distributed. “Oh, swell,” she muttered, tearing open an envelope. “Another letter from Dr. Puckett. Wouldn’t you think the guy would get tired of his own hyperbole?” Still muttering to herself, she stalked off.

Nicole smothered a smile. She liked being Julianne’s secretary. Julianne always amused her, even when she was angry. Although Nicole at thirty was four years younger than her boss, she often felt motherly toward the only female lawyer in the old French Quarter law firm.

For the next hour Nicole worked diligently. When one of the other secretaries stopped by her desk to chat, Nicole waved her off. “I can’t talk. Julianne’s letting me leave at lunchtime today, so I’m trying to get everything done this morning.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home for the weekend.”

“Well, have a good one.”

Nicole bent back to her work. At eleven forty-five she backed up her files, printed the morning’s work and turned off her computer. She cleaned up her desk, then picked up the stack of letters that were ready for Julianne’s signature. When a glance into Julianne’s office showed it was unoccupied, Nicole headed down the hall to look for her boss.

She searched the other offices. Still no Julianne. Deciding she was probably in the big conference room, Nicole headed in that direction. Just before reaching the reception area, she bumped into Guy D’Amato.

His gray eyes lit up when he saw her, and he smiled. “Hi. I was on my way to your office to see if I could take you to lunch.” Guy was a partner in the firm, and she’d been dating him off and on for a few months.

Nicole suppressed the twinge of guilt she felt at his obvious pleasure in seeing her. She suspected Guy was in love with her, that if she encouraged him at all, he’d propose. The sensible part of her knew he was perfect husband material: hardworking, ambitious, considerate, dependable, solvent—all those qualities any mother wants for her daughter.

But there was no excitement, no
sizzle
between them. And the romantic, adventurous part of Nicole wanted that, even though it had gotten her into trouble before.

She’d tried to convince herself that sizzle was the least important element in marriage. She’d told herself that by its very nature, sizzle didn’t last. She’d reminded herself that she was a grown-up woman with a three-year-old daughter, and Guy could give them a wonderful and secure future.

But she
still
wanted sizzle.

“I’m sorry, Guy. I can’t go to lunch with you today. I’m heading out to Patinville for the weekend, and Julianne’s letting me go at noon.”

He couldn’t hide his disappointment, and once more, guilt nudged at her. Guy D’Amato was very nice. She was very stupid.

“When are you coming back? Sunday?”

She nodded.

“Early?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe I could take you and Aimee to dinner Sunday night.”

“I don’t think so, Guy. Aimee is usually worn out after a weekend with her doting grandparents, and I’ll probably be tired, too. Maybe next weekend, okay?”

“All right.” He pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up on his nose. “Be careful driving.”

“I will.” She hurried off toward the reception area. Just as she entered the small room, she caught a glimpse of army green as a man went out the front door. Her heart leaped up into a throat suddenly dry. She gasped.

Was that the man from the antique shop?

Kathy, the receptionist, turned. “Oh, hi, Nic.” She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Kathy, who was that man?”

Kathy’s frown deepened. “Why? Do you know him?”

“No. Who
was
he, Kathy? What did he want?”

Kathy flinched. “Uh, well, that’s the funny thing. He was asking about someone I thought was you.”

Fear jacknifed through her. “What did he say?”

Kathy’s puzzled gaze met hers. “When he came in he was very polite, said he was looking for someone he’d been told worked here. He described her, and I thought he meant you, but then he said the woman’s name was Elise Arnold, so I told him we didn’t have anyone by that name working here.”