Midnight Sons Volume 1 (24 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: Midnight Sons Volume 1
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Her lips parted, and warm color blossomed in her cheeks. “I…I don’t think this is a good idea—not for us. I—”

He cut off her words by lowering his head and kissing her. As she responded, he wondered how he’d managed to last this long without her. When he ended the kiss, they were both breathing heavily. He ran his lips down the curve of her cheek to her ear.

Then he slid his mouth back to hers, and his kiss was filled with urgency. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. This was dangerous—to him
and
her. Dragging his mouth away, he struggled for control.

Lanni hid her face in his shoulder.

“Charles…” she gasped.

“I know. I know.” He was equally shaken. “It scares me how much I want you.” He was desperate for a solution, but every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was the pain on his mother’s face.

“Let me make love to you,” he whispered.

Her body tensed and she shook her head.

The rejection tore at his heart. He might not know a lot about a woman’s wants and needs, but he’d have staked his life on the fact that she wanted him too.

He caught her hand and flattened it against his heart. “You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes, but…” At least she was honest enough not to deny it.

“I’ve been half-crazy these last few weeks without you.” Charles nuzzled her throat, then drew her into another lengthy kiss. When he finished, she buried her face in his shoulder once more. Her body shuddered.

He kissed her again. Gently. Lips meeting lips. The mere act of touching her made him feel as though he were on fire. Lanni filled him with a tenderness he didn’t recognize.

He wove his fingers through her long blond hair and held her protectively close.

She hung her head. “We can’t go on like this.”

He didn’t answer, but his heart pounded wildly.

“Will our being together change anything?” she asked, her voice low and trembling. “Will I stop being Catherine Fletcher’s granddaughter? Will you stop being David and Ellen’s son?”

He had no argument to give her, no answer to make things right.

All he knew was how badly he needed her. Emotionally. Physically. And in every possible way you could need someone. Taking a deep breath, he began, “Lanni, please…”

She moved away and brushed the tumble of hair from her face in the habitual gesture he loved.

He closed his eyes.

“Tell me, Charles. Would you have sought me out if Matt hadn’t tricked us into this meeting?”

It would’ve been easy to lie, but he wouldn’t do that. Not to Lanni. “No.”

She flinched. “I didn’t plan on seeing you again, either.”

“But we
have
met,” he argued, “and it’s obvious we still feel the same way about each other.”

“I’ll always love you, Charles, but I refuse to live like this, sneaking around—”

“If we’re in love, then—”

“I can’t. I’m afraid that history will repeat itself. My grandmother loved your father—and she was never more than his mistress—a small part of his life. It’s not enough for me.”

“I’d never ask that of you.
I’m
not married to someone else!”

“But you’ll always feel torn,” she said. “You love me, but you love your family, too, and so you should. But your mother could never accept me.”

He didn’t reply.

“I apologize for what Matt did. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she whispered brokenly, moving into the living room and gesturing at the door. “Perhaps it’d be best if you left now.”

Charles reached the door and stopped, his back to her. “I can’t go,” he said. “I can’t just leave you.” He wasn’t sure what his staying would accomplish; it might do more harm than good. One thing was certain—he couldn’t right the sins of generations past.

He blindly made his way back into the kitchen. He might not have wanted coffee earlier, but he felt a desperate need for something now.

By the time he found the mugs, Lanni had joined him.

“Do you want some?” he asked.

“Please.”

He poured them each a cup and carried them to the small table. Lanni gave him a weak smile as they sat facing each other.
Knowing he was the one responsible for the shadows under her eyes broke his heart.

“I…I want to thank you,” she said.

“Thank me?” He’d done nothing but bring pain into her life, just as his father had brought pain to her grandmother’s.

“For what you’re doing to help my brother.”

The time for pretense was gone. “I sold the lodge for a number of reasons, not all of them noble.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not sure I do, either.” The coffee tasted slightly burned and bitter. That seemed fitting somehow. “I suppose I thought that if your brother managed the lodge, I’d have a way of learning about you. Not that I intended to pry into your private life.”

“I see.”

“I figured your brother would let me know when you got married…” His heart seized at the thought of Lanni with another man. “I’m sorry for what happened this evening. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His words were jagged. He took a hurried drink of coffee to cover how difficult it had been to say them.

Tears glistened in her eyes. “Some things were never meant to be. Isn’t that what you said earlier?”

He stood up to carry the mug to the sink. He looked back at her and resisted the urge to tell her goodbye.

They’d already done that.

 

“So,” Matt said when he phoned Lanni the following morning. “I don’t suppose you had any company dropping by last night, did you?”

“Yes.” Her brother didn’t have any idea how much his actions had hurt her.

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me what happened.”

“Why would you
do
such a thing?” Lanni asked, her throat aching as she struggled to control her voice. She knew her brother hadn’t intentionally hurt her. Yet he might as well have driven a knife into her heart as invite Charles into her home.

“Why would I arrange for Charles and you to meet?” Matt repeated. “Because it was clear to me from the moment I met O’Halloran that he’s in love with you.”

Lanni said nothing.

“It was also clear to me that you’re in love with him!”

Again she didn’t bother to contradict him.

“I don’t know what nonsense is keeping you apart, but I thought it was time someone did something.”

“Of all people,” she blurted, “I would think you’d know enough to respect another person’s privacy.” Lanni was close to tears. “You love Karen and—”

“What’s she got to do with this?” he interjected.

“—she loves you!”

“Right. She couldn’t get to that attorney fast enough to file for the divorce. In case you didn’t realize it, that’s not the act of a woman in love.”

“I won’t take sides, Matt. I didn’t all through the divorce, and I won’t now. All I know is that you love her, and I’m sure she still loves you. How would
you
feel if I tricked you into meeting her?”

Matt’s voice hardened. “Don’t even try it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Suddenly he chuckled as if something amused him. “Karen and I would probably end up killing each other. Now that she’s moved, I can see the wisdom of having her gone.”

“Wisdom?”

“I don’t have to worry about seeing her with another man, do I?”

“No.”

They both hesitated.

“I apologize if I did the wrong thing,” Matt said brusquely. “It sounds like I made the situation worse instead of better.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not much of a matchmaker, am I?”

“Put it this way—the next time I want to meet a man, you’re the last person I’ll ask for help.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t think I could go through another evening like last night.”

When Matt spoke again, he seemed uncertain. “I did read you right, didn’t I? You are in love with him?”

“Yes,” she said hoarsely. “But it’s over—the same as you and Karen. There’s nothing left to resurrect. If you have any feelings for me as your sister, you won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

“I won’t,” Matt promised.

Lanni believed him.

At noon she went to check her mailbox. There was one
letter—with a Canadian postmark. But she was positive she didn’t know anyone living in Vancouver, British Columbia.

She waited until she was back in the apartment before opening the envelope. She pulled out a sheet of personalized stationery. The embossed letterhead said Ellen Greenleaf.

With shaky knees, Lanni pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down to read.

Dear Lanni,

I imagine this letter comes as a surprise. Sawyer was kind enough to obtain your address for me. I’ve debated for several weeks now on how to get in touch with you, and decided the best way was by letter.

First, I want to apologize for my behavior at Sawyer and Abbey’s wedding. Discovering you’re a relative of Catherine Fletcher’s was a shock. I fear I was far less gracious than I should have been. I beg your forgiveness for anything I might have said or done to hurt you.

I’m not sure what you do or don’t know about my relationship with Catherine—or more importantly, my late husband’s relationship with her. As far as I’m concerned, all of that was laid to rest with David. I harbor Catherine no ill will. Nor you.

Before Charles learned about your connection with Catherine, he confided in me his feelings for you. I realize you have since returned to Anchorage. I tried to ask Charles about the two of you, but he refuses to discuss the matter.

However, I know my son. I’ve attempted to convince him, without success, that you shouldn’t be blamed for the sins of another.

It breaks my heart to think that another generation is about to suffer because of me. I plan to be in Anchorage next week. Would it be
possible for us to have lunch? I’ll be staying at the Alaska Inn. If you could give me a call on Tuesday morning, perhaps we could arrange something.

It’s time we buried the past.

Most Sincerely,
Ellen Greenleaf

Chapter
9

Sawyer was poring over a cookbook when Abbey walked in the front door. She stopped a minute, amused at what an incongruous sight her husband made with a lace-fringed apron around his waist.

“I’m home,” she called, slipping off her shoes.

“Thank goodness.” Sawyer stripped off the apron and tossed it aside. “I can’t even begin to figure out these instructions.”

“What did you want to cook?”

“Chicken cordon bleu.”

“Cordon bleu? When you said you’d fix dinner, I assumed you’d pick something easy.”

“This looked easy enough,” he said, peering down at the photograph accompanying the recipe. “We’ve got the chicken, the cheese and just about everything else I need—except the patience.”

Abbey slid her arms around him and smiled into his face. “You want me to come to the rescue, don’t you?”

He kissed her. “Please.”

“It’s going to cost you,” she teased.

“I’ll pay—price is no object.”

Abbey reached for the cookbook while Sawyer tied the apron around her.

“Well?” he asked when she’d finished reading the recipe.

“I’ll do what I can,” she said, feigning uncertainty. “But I’m not promising anything.”

Sawyer poured a cup of coffee and sat down to watch her. Abbey efficiently assembled ingredients from the cupboard and the refrigerator. After a few minutes, he said, “Charles is back.”

“Oh,” Abbey said absently. “Has his mood improved?”

“No. If anything it’s worse. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more miserable.”

Abbey looked up, concerned. “Have you tried talking to him?”

“Twice, and both times he nearly bit my head off. You can take my word for it, he isn’t feeling very communicative.”

“It’s Lanni, isn’t it?”

Sawyer frowned. “That’s my guess.”

“Maybe
I
should try talking to him.”

“I wouldn’t advise it,” Sawyer murmured. “Charles will work this out in his own time and his own way. He’s struggling with the fact that he loves Lanni. My brother never expected to fall in love.”

“You didn’t, either,” Abbey reminded him.

“That’s true,” Sawyer said with a wide grin. “As you recall, I
had some trouble getting used to the idea myself.” More seriously he said, “It’s even harder for Charles, because he didn’t fall in love with just anyone. Nope, that would’ve been too easy. He had to go and fall for Catherine Fletcher’s granddaughter. So he’s making all kinds of excuses why a relationship between them won’t work.”

“How do you mean?”

“Lanni’s nearly ten years younger, so Charles announces she’s too young to know what she wants. Then he said something about Lanni working for some newspaper.” He shook his head. “I haven’t got a clue what he was talking about there.”

“Lanni shouldn’t be blamed for what her grandmother did.”

“I don’t think Charles blames her. I think he feels he’s being disloyal to our mother. You have to understand, Catherine did everything in her power to destroy my family.”

Abbey sat down across the table from her husband. “It seems such a pity the way everything’s turned out for Charles and Lanni. They really care about each other.”

“Being in love doesn’t automatically make everything right,” Sawyer said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Abbey agreed, “but it’s a step in that direction.”

Sawyer took her hand. “I sure hope so.”

Scott burst into the kitchen just then, Eagle Catcher at his heels. The boy’s face was red and sweaty with exertion; her son always went at full speed, Abbey thought with a smile.

“What’s for dinner?” Scott asked. “I’m starved.”

He looked at Sawyer, who’d made a grandiose announcement that morning about cooking a special meal. Flustered, Sawyer raised both shoulders in a shrug.

“Chicken with cheese and rice,” Abbey answered.

Scott beamed with approval. “Sounds good.”

“It’s an old family recipe,” Sawyer assured him. “Handed down from generation to generation.”

“I bet I’ll like it, then.”

“I bet you will, too,” Sawyer said and winked at his wife.

 

Lanni walked into the formal dining room of the Alaska Inn and glanced around. She was meeting Charles’s mother here. The room’s opulent decor was reminiscent of the Roaring Twenties, Alaska style, with red velvet wallpaper, a rich-looking red carpet and red velvet cushions on the chairs.

Lanni saw Ellen Greenleaf almost right away. Dignified and elegant, she sat at a table next to the window, apparently deep in thought, since she didn’t seem to notice Lanni’s approach.

“Mrs. Greenleaf,” Lanni said quietly, not wanting to startle the woman.

“Lanni,” Ellen said, smiling in welcome. “Please, sit down.”

Lanni pulled out the chair across from Ellen and sat down. She took a nervous moment to tuck her purse between her feet and place her napkin on her lap.

“It’s good of you to meet me,” Ellen began.

“Oh, no, it’s my pleasure,” Lanni said. “I appreciated your letter more than I can say. And please, don’t worry about what happened at Sawyer’s wedding.”

The waiter appeared and they both ordered quickly, getting that out of the way. Lanni’s mind wasn’t on food; she felt much too anxious to think about eating.

“How are you?” Charles’s mother asked first.

Lanni didn’t know if there was some hidden meaning in her question. “Uh, fine, thanks. And you?”

Ellen nodded. “I don’t mean to hedge with small talk. It’s just that I find what I’m about to tell you very…difficult. You see, it happened so many years ago, and I wonder if exhuming the past will do either of us any good.”

Lanni sipped from her ice water, concentrating on the coldness of the glass. She’d noticed how drawn and pale Ellen looked. “I don’t want you to say or do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

Ellen seemed not to have heard. “I remember your mother so well. Kate was a delightful little girl, with bright eyes and long braids. I used to see her when she visited her mother during the summer. I desperately longed for a child myself, and Catherine never lost an opportunity to taunt me.”

Lanni lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I apologize,” Ellen said, and sighed. “I didn’t ask you to lunch to discuss your grandmother’s faults. Actually I’ve come to confess my own.”

Lanni grew more troubled. It was obvious that Ellen felt unsure about this conversation. She’d instigated their meeting, yet seemed to question the value of it.

“From what I’ve heard, there are grievances on both sides,” Lanni said.

Ellen’s nod was almost imperceptible. “That’s true enough. Truer than you’ll ever know.”

“My grandmother isn’t well these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Ellen murmured. “I’m sincere about that, whether you choose to believe me or not.”

“I do believe you.”

Ellen lifted the water glass to her lips; when she set it back on the table, she appeared to be readying herself for some sort of ordeal. She straightened, and Lanni noticed how she clenched and unclenched her hands.

“It’s somewhat…ironic that you’re the one I’m telling this to. My sons know nothing of what I’m about to explain. I’ve kept this secret for nearly fifty years.”

Lanni was surprised herself. She was almost a stranger to Ellen Greenleaf; more than that, she was the granddaughter of Ellen’s oldest enemy. Yet Ellen had chosen to confide in her.

“Mrs. Greenleaf—”

“Please, call me Ellen.”

“Ellen, I’d rather you didn’t—”

It was as if Ellen hadn’t heard her. “In all fairness,” she began, “I’ve decided Charles should be told the facts, as well. Whether or not to tell Sawyer and Christian is something I’ll leave up to Charles.”

Lanni didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to mislead Ellen into thinking she had a relationship with Charles when she didn’t. “I don’t—it isn’t likely I’ll see Charles again.”

“I hope that isn’t the case.” Ellen sighed again and gazed into the distance. “My son will live his own life, make his own decisions and live by them. What he does with this information is entirely up to him. The same way it’ll be up to you.”

“Ellen, I’m not sure you should tell me…whatever this is.”

The older woman shook her head. “I feel differently, and I’ll explain later.”

Lanni might have argued further, but their food arrived.
Neither seemed to have any interest in eating. Lanni reached for her fork and ate a couple of shrimp, then contented herself with pushing the lettuce leaves around her plate.

Ellen moved her salad aside and picked up her water glass again. Then she began to speak. “It all started in the last days of World War II. I lost my parents in one of the London bombings. My older brother was a bombardier. His plane went down over Germany in June of 1943. Other than one older cousin, Elizabeth, I had no family left.”

Lanni’s heart constricted; she was close to her own family and losing them seemed unimaginable. “How alone you must have felt.”

“I did. I was lost and lonely and desperately afraid. That was when I met a young American soldier.”

David must have been lonely, too, Lanni realized. So far from home, enduring the shock and horror of war, devastated by the death of his brother.

“We fell in love. I’ve never loved as deeply or as completely in my life. We clung to each other, and the love we shared was the only thing that kept me sane in those last terrible months of the war.” Ellen paused, her eyes shining with tears. It took her several minutes to compose herself.

“Perhaps we should continue later,” Lanni suggested.

“No. That won’t make it any easier. And I’ve come this far.…”

Lanni leaned across the table and clasped Ellen’s hand.

“I was raised in a God-fearing home,” Ellen said in a low voice. “I’m not offering any excuses for what happened, but you have to understand how desperate the times were. I was in love,
and I didn’t know from one day to the next what the future held. My family was gone. He was so far from home. It seemed inevitable that we give in to our natural inclinations and make love.”

“I would never judge you, Ellen.”

Charles’s mother smiled softly, sadly. “We lived for those few tender moments together. With each other, we found a confirmation of life, a solace that had escaped us.”

She hesitated, and Lanni remained silent, not wanting to interrupt Ellen’s painfully remembered—and painfully told—story.

“The inevitable happened. We were careless, and I soon discovered I was pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Lanni blinked in surprise.

Ellen nodded. “I was so afraid to tell him. So embarrassed that I’d been this foolish. I avoided him, but he confronted me. I was sure he wouldn’t want me anymore, but when I told him about the baby, he was ecstatic.” Her eyes grew warm with the memory. “He lifted me off the ground and kissed me until I was senseless. Because he was happy, I was, too.” A smile brightened her pale face. “We planned to marry as quickly as possible. He…he was making the arrangements when…when he was sent on a mission.” She paused and seemed to gather herself together.

“You see, he…he never returned. I didn’t learn until two agonizing weeks later that he’d been killed.”

Lanni frowned. “David killed?”

“No. The father of my child was Charles O’Halloran. David’s brother.”

Lanni was left speechless. She started to ask the most obvious questions but found that her throat had closed up.

“I think…I
know
I would’ve died had it not been for David and the baby. Losing my parents and my brother broke my heart. Losing Charles crushed my spirit. I had no will to go on.”

“Did you ever find out what happened to Charles?”

Ellen shook her head. “No one will ever really know. The only thing I’m confident of is that he loved me and he wanted our child.”

“So David came to see you?”

“Yes. Charles and his brother were very close. As I look back on that time, I think Charles might have known on some level that he wouldn’t make it. David told me his brother had asked him to take care of me if anything happened. David gave Charles his word of honor that he would.”

Lanni closed her eyes.

“At first all he intended to do was arrange for me to join his family in Alaska.”

“And he couldn’t,” Lanni guessed.

“The only way it turned out to be possible was if he married me himself. I should never have agreed. Over the years I regretted it thousands of times. In my own defense, though, I was in a haze of pain and grief. The pregnancy wasn’t going well, and the thought of being alone terrified me.”

“You did eventually come to love him.”

“Oh, yes.” Ellen’s eyes took on that faraway look again. “When I married him, I didn’t know about Catherine. David never mentioned her, and if Charles had ever told me about his brother’s fiancée, I’d forgotten.”

“What about the baby?”

“Two months after the wedding—when I was six months pregnant—I gave birth to a daughter. She lived two days…We
buried her in London. I named her Emily after the sister my Charles lost. I thought he’d approve.”

“I’m sure he would have.” Lanni felt the tears gathering, and her heart went out to Charles’s mother. She’d lost her family, the father of her child and then her child.

“David was so gentle with me. We wept together, and he stood by my side when we buried Emily. I wanted to release him from the wedding vows, but he refused. Soon afterward, he was given his orders to return home. We went together.”

“That was when you found out about Catherine?”

“Yes,” Ellen answered softly. “In the beginning I was upset that David hadn’t told me. But he insisted he’d made the decision to marry me and he wanted me as his wife. By that time we’d become lovers, although I don’t believe we were in love. Not then. I’m ashamed to admit that in the beginning when David made love to me I pretended he was Charles. I prayed he never knew, but I suspect he did.”

“You waited almost fifteen years to start a family.”

Ellen shook her head. “It wasn’t our choice. There never seemed to be any medical reason I couldn’t conceive. I had easily enough before. Both David and I went through numerous tests and the doctors always came up blank.” She sighed. “In retrospect I probably needed those years to heal emotionally. It wasn’t until I was in my midthirties that I became pregnant with Charles.”

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