Sunshine and the Shadowmaster (20 page)

H
eather woke the next morning with the dream vivid in her mind. For a moment she lay there, staring at her bedside radio alarm clock, which she hadn't bothered to set since she didn't have to go to work. It was eight thirty-five—and her stomach was acting up on her as usual.

Heather threw back the covers, jumped from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom where she bent over the commode. But after a minute, she discovered she didn't need to throw up after all.

When she was sure her stomach could be trusted, she looked in the mirror over the sink.

She didn't look that much different than she had yesterday. Yet she was irrevocably changed.

She loved Lucas.

That was it; that was her secret. The one she'd been keeping from everyone. Including herself.

He was exactly the kind of man she'd never meant to love. Too much like her father, and all the other Jones men. And yet it had happened. She loved him.

Which made no sense. She hardly knew him. He would not let himself be known.

But when she closed her eyes and tried to conjure Jason Lee's face in her mind, it would not come. All she could see were black-lashed ebony eyes, a hawklike nose and that cruel, sensuous slash of a mouth.

All she could see was Lucas.

* * *

“Aunt Heather, you okay?” Mark asked her around a mouthful of Super Wheat Crunchies at breakfast.

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you closed your eyes there for a moment and I thought you were gonna fall off your chair.”

“No. It's just...I'm just... It's the wedding. I have a lot of things on my mind.”

“Yeah.” Mark dipped up another huge spoonful of cereal. “It's gonna be a serious event, no doubt about it.” Mark stuck the cereal into his mouth and started crunching it. He was going to stand up for his father as best man, and was quite proud of himself.

“I know I'm young, Dad,” Mark had said when Lucas asked him. “But I won't let you down.”

And Mark was right about the wedding being an event. Somehow, the ceremony that Heather had envisioned as an intimate, casual gathering of the closest members of the family, was growing into a bigger deal as each day passed. Part of the reason was that the family was pretty large in itself. Grandpa Oggie had fathered five children, after all. And each of those children had a wife or a husband and most of them had kids. And then there was dear, departed Grandma Bathsheba's side of the family, the Rileys, who happened to be related in some distant way to just about everyone who'd ever lived in the area in the past hundred years. And beyond the Rileys, there was Heather's own deceased mother's side of the family, the Willises. Most of them no longer lived nearby, but Aunt Delilah had called a few of them. And some said they'd come.

And on top of all the family, there were the friends—friends who were so much
like
family that it seemed it would be a crime to leave them out. Eden's and Aunt Regina's phones were ringing night and day with people calling up to say they wouldn't miss the wedding for all the gold in the mother lode.

Aunt Regina had finally decided to put up a notice at the post office inviting everyone who wanted to be there. The immediate members of the family would arrive early and for everyone else, it would be first come, first served.

This morning at eleven Heather was scheduled to try on her grandmother's wedding dress for—she sincerely hoped—the last time. And tomorrow there was even going to be a rehearsal in Aunt Regina's backyard, after which Aunt Delilah was putting on a big feast at her house. Then on the morning of the wedding, Aunt Amy was having everyone over to her house for a family breakfast.

“Morning,” Lucas said as he entered the kitchen. “What's up with the two of you?”

“Aunt Heather looks like she's gonna heave, but other than that, nothing much,” Mark said.

Lucas turned his dark gaze her way, his brow furrowing in concern. “Heather?”

Heather's air seemed to be cut off. Her heart was bouncing around in her chest. She loved him.
Loved
him....

“Heather? Are you all right?”

From some impossible place within her, she came upon her own voice. “Oh. Yes. Fine. Just fine.” She shot to her feet. “Sit down. I'll pour you some coffee.” She pulled out the chair he usually sat in.

Mark and Lucas exchanged baffled glances, then Lucas turned to Heather again. “You look strange,” he insisted.

“Well, I'm not. Just sit down.”

Shaking his head, Lucas took the chair.

Mark finished chewing his last bite of cereal and announced, “Listen. I'm going to Marnie's. But we'll be back over here in an hour or two, okay? We want to work on the tree fort.” He and Marnie had spent the last couple of hours of the previous afternoon rebuilding the old fort in the walnut tree out back. Clearly, more repairs were in the offing.

“That's fine,” Heather heard herself say. Mark left. Heather realized she was still staring dreamily at Lucas, who was staring back at her, his expression caught midway between puzzlement and concern.

“Are you
sure
you're okay?”

“Me? Absolutely. Top-notch.”

“Are you upset about last night?”

“Last night? Why would I be upset about that?”

“We broke our agreement that we wouldn't make love until after the wedding.”

“Our agreement?”

He lifted a brow at her. “Heather. You do remember the agreement we had. It was your idea, after all.”

“Yes. Of course, I remember.”

“Then are you upset because we didn't keep it?”

“Um. No. I suppose I should be. But I'm not.”

“Then what is going on with you?”

“Nothing. I told you. Everything's fine. Really. I'll get that coffee for you.” She went to the counter, got a cup from the cabinet and poured his coffee, then returned to give him the cup. When she set it in front of him, a little sloshed on the table.

Lucas snared her wrist before she could pull it away. He looked up at her. She melted inside.

“You're shaking,” he said.

“No, I'm not.” His grip was so warm. She loved it when he touched her. She loved just the feel of his skin against her own.

“Heather...”

“If you let go of my wrist, I'll make you some breakfast.”

He released her and she moved away from him quickly. It was too much right then, being next to him. She fled to the cupboards, where she took down a mixing bowl, then banged things around for a few minutes in search of the frying pan.

“Have you seen a doctor yet?” he asked from behind her.

“A doctor?”

“About the baby.”

“Scrambled all right?”

“Fine. Have you?”

She set the frying pan on the stove and moved to the refrigerator to get the eggs. “That's today, as a matter of fact. In Grass Valley, at one. Of course, I'll have to find another doctor, if and when we move to Monterey. But it seemed like a good idea, to make sure everything is going along fine.”

“Good,” he said. “I'll drive you there.”

Heather's heart slammed against her rib cage. He would drive her there! She couldn't wait. Yet how would she bear the drive in the car all that way alone with him, knowing she loved him? It made everything different, that she loved him.

And she was going to have to tell him. Maybe she'd do it then. This afternoon. On the trip to Grass Valley to see the obstetrician.

Just thinking about telling him made her forget about the carton of eggs in her hands. It slipped free. “Oops.” She had to execute a tricky little dip to catch it before it hit the floor. “Hah!” she exclaimed triumphantly, then felt like an idiot. She held up the carton and grinned sheepishly. “Caught them.”

Lucas stared at her. “What is the matter with you?”

She opened her mouth to say,
I love you, with all my heart.
But then closed it at the last minute, and turned to open the carton of eggs. “Nothing's the matter. Three eggs about right?” She waited, the first egg poised at the side of the bowl, for his answer.

Finally he gave it. “Yes. Good. Three.”

Carefully she cracked the eggs into the bowl.

“Are you getting nervous about the wedding?” he asked.

“Yes. A little.” She sprinkled some spices on the eggs, then pulled a wire whisk from a drawer and whipped them to a froth.

A few minutes later, she set the food in front of him.

“This looks perfect. Thanks.”

Heather had to restrain herself from dropping to her knees before him and swearing she'd cook anything he wanted, any way he wanted it, for as long as they both should live.

* * *

Heather went to Eden's house to try on the dress, which her stepmother had picked up, cleaned and altered, at eight that very morning. If it didn't fit, Heather would take it back for one more set of alterations when she went to Grass Valley that afternoon.

But it did fit—as if it had been made for her. Eden burst into tears when Heather stood before her in the yards of satin and lace. “Oh, Heather. It's beautiful. Beautiful.”

Heather turned to look in the mirror that hung on Eden's bedroom wall and found that she was crying, too. She swiped at the tears with the heel of her hand.

Eden, her tears trickling unashamed down her cheeks, came up behind Heather and peered over her shoulder. “Have you seen the pictures of Oggie and your grandmother on their wedding day?”

Heather sniffled and nodded. “Yes, I've seen them. Grandpa has them in an old album.”

“You look so much like her,” Eden said.

“Like Grandma Bathsheba?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Heather sniffled some more. “You think so?”

“Yes. There's no doubt about it. The resemblance is...stunning.” Eden grabbed a tissue from the box on the nearby vanity table and wiped her eyes. Then she sighed and dropped out of Heather's line of sight as she sat at the brass-backed vanity chair. Heather turned around so that she could see her. Their gazes caught and held.

“This marriage is about more than a baby on the way, isn't it?” Eden asked softly. “You love him, don't you?”

Heather looked down. She fiddled with a seed pearl on the bodice of the dress.

“Don't pull on the beadwork,” Eden chided. “And answer me. Do you love Lucas Drury?”

Heather left the pearl alone. She lifted her head and looked at her stepmother again. Then she sniffled one more time. “Yes.”

“I knew it.” Eden yanked out another tissue and held it out to Heather. “I'm so glad.”

Heather took the tissue and blew her nose. “I'd like to sit down, but I'm afraid I'll wrinkle the dress. Can you undo the hooks for me?” She showed Eden her back, sweeping her hair to the side.

Eden rose and began unhooking the dress. Neither woman spoke until Eden had helped Heather out of the gown and laid it carefully across the bed.

After smoothing out all the wrinkles, Eden turned and looked at her stepdaughter again. “All right, so you love him and you're marrying him. But you're not happy. Tell me what's wrong.”

Heather stepped out of the three-layered, tulle-bordered slip and reached for her jeans. “Nothing. And everything.”

“Doesn't he love you, too?”

Heather pulled on the jeans and buttoned them up. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Heather pulled her T-shirt over her head, flipped her hair out from under the neckline and then tucked in the shirt. “Who can be sure about anything when it comes to Lucas?”

“Does he know that you love him?”

“Uh-uh.”

“You must tell him.”

“I know.” Heather sat in the vanity chair and picked up her socks, then dropped them again and hung her head. “But I can't. You don't know what he's like.
I
don't know what he's like. He won't let me in. He's...an impossible kind of man.”

Eden smiled. “So's your father. But we worked it out. You tell Lucas how you feel, that's all. And let him take it from there.”

* * *

Easier said than done, Heather thought of Eden's advice later, when she and Lucas were on their way to Grass Valley. Somehow, she just couldn't get those three little words out of her mouth.

So they drove in silence.

At the doctor's office, Heather filled out a lot of forms. She was given another pregnancy test. Then she received a complete physical.

An hour later, after the doctor had told her she was pregnant and doing just fine, she and Lucas headed back home.

“Well?” Lucas asked when they were out in the car again.

Heather shrugged. “I'm pregnant. And there are no problems so far, according to the doctor.”

“Did you tell him you get nauseated a lot?”

She cast him a glance. “It's called morning sickness, Lucas.”

“Don't be sarcastic.”

“Sorry. But really. He says there's nothing wrong.”

“Did you tell him about the incident this morning?”

“What incident?”

“How you couldn't keep your train of thought, you dropped things and your hands shook.”

Heather had to look away to avoid bursting into hysterical laughter. Lucas had seen the signs of her love for him—and he was certain she must be seriously ill.

“Well, did you?”

“Yes,” she fibbed.

“And?”

“He, um, said it was nothing to worry about—as long as it doesn't keep up.”

“Well. All right, then.” He started the car, backed it up and turned it around to leave the parking lot.

Through the entire drive, Heather kept trying to think of a way to tell him of her love. But when they pulled up in front of her house, she was still thinking. And nothing had been said.

They went inside. Lucas went back to work. Heather took a little nap, then did some packing later. From the backyard, she could hear Mark and Marnie, hammering away at the tree house and laughing together like the best buddies they were.