The Bachelor (23 page)

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder and laughed. Thanks to her quick dash, she was light-headed. Of course, Roman’s kiss had
much to do with her dizzy state, but her escape had been born of pure self-preservation. She didn’t care how far from the
baseball field they were, everyone would take one look at her and figure out what they’d been doing. So the less she did under
the bleachers, the better as far as she was concerned. Until later. Then they could pick up where they left off and do whatever
they wanted.

The thought sent tingles of anticipation up her spine, arousing every nerve ending she possessed, bringing a stinging flush
to her cheeks. A quick glance over her shoulder, and she realized Roman was walking behind her at a leisurely pace. He grinned
and waved, then got sidetracked by Rick, who grabbed him on the shoulder.

Charlotte slowed her steps, and turned back to walk right into her mother. A glowing version of her mother, from her made-up
face to her bright smile and twinkling eyes.

“Mom!”

“Where are you coming from in such a hurry?” Annie steadied her with a hug before letting go.

“I’m … I was …”

“Making out under the bleachers with Roman.” Her mother reached a hand up and brushed her knuckle over Charlotte’s cheek.
“I recognize the signs. Your father and I used to do it all the time.”

A protest rose to her lips. Charlotte didn’t want to accept that anything about her feelings for Roman was similar to Annie
and Russell. Not even something as light and fun as acting like teenagers.

“So what brings you out tonight?” Charlotte asked.

She glanced around, looking for Dennis Sterling, then eyed her mother with curiosity. “Or maybe I should ask, who brings you
out tonight?”

From the corner of her eye, Charlotte noticed Beth waving wildly in the distance. If Beth was that hungry, she should just
eat without waiting. Charlotte signaled back with one finger, indicating she’d be another minute or so.

Annie sighed. “I should have known I couldn’t keep a secret in this town.”

Charlotte turned back to her mother. “Apparently you can, because I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” The only thing
Charlotte did know was that her mother had a high-wattage smile and an easy laugh she hadn’t seen in way too long. When Charlotte
ran into Dennis, she’d plant a huge kiss on him herself.

She pulled her mother into a tight hug. As she inhaled, a beautiful scent Charlotte didn’t recognize teased her senses. “Perfume
and makeup,” she murmured.

“I hope you’ll greet me with the same enthusiasm, Charlie.”

That voice, using that name. Charlotte stiffened and dropped her arms, backing slowly away from her mother. Betrayal settled
like lead in her stomach. Charlotte should have known better than to think her mother had allowed herself to be interested
in anyone other than her absentee husband, Russell Bronson.

She turned and faced the man who casually walked in and out of her life on his own schedule. He was as good-looking as ever,
dressed in khakis and a navy pullover sweater. His hair was neatly combed, with more gray than she remembered. His face offered
a few more lines, but he’d aged well. And looked happy.

Unlike her mother, Charlotte had no doubt his moods didn’t change depending upon whether or not he was with Annie. But her
mother’s mood, actions, and even how she looked hinged on whether Russell was in town. And when he took off again.

Charlotte’s anger grew, not just at the man who made Yorkshire Falls and his family into a revolving door—but at her mother,
for allowing herself to be manipulated so easily. And for so long.

“Charlie?”

Charlotte wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. “So the prodigal father’s returned.”

He stepped forward and she stepped back.

Disappointment flickered in his eyes—or maybe that was what she wanted to see. That darn kernel of hope she’d always held
in her heart wouldn’t be extinguished, but she refused to act on it.

The baseball game continued, but Charlotte had lost interest. And apparently so had the rest of the crowd. Unless she was
paranoid, she felt dozens of pairs of eyes trained on the dysfunctional Bronson family. Small-town curiosity at its finest.
She braced herself against the stares and chatter, and stood in silence, waiting for her parents to speak.

Russell sighed. “Not the reception I was hoping for,” he said finally.

“But the one you expected, I’m sure.”

Roman strode to her side and placed an arm around her shoulder. More fodder for gossip at Norman’s, she thought wryly. “Am
I interrupting a family reunion?”

She shook her head. “Roman, you remember my …” She cleared her throat. “You remember Russell, don’t you?”

“Of course.” He extended his hand. “Nice to see you again.”

Sweet Raina had instilled perfect manners into all three of her sons. Too bad she hadn’t given them her sense of stability
and roots.

Russell shook Roman’s hand. “It’s been a while.”

“It certainly has,” Roman said.

She gritted her teeth, forced a smile, and aimed her next comments Roman’s way. “True. And considering you’ve been in town
for a few days, you’re more up on what’s new around here. So why don’t you catch Russell up on what he’s missed during this
last absence?”

Roman’s sharp intake of breath sliced into her heart, but she refused to let it change her intentions. In her mind, she saw
herself as she’d been when she’d run out from behind the bleachers, laughing, happy, and excited from her run-in with Roman.
Looking forward with aroused anticipation to the night ahead, when she could get him alone. And before her now, she saw her
mother, with similarly flushed cheeks and a carefree expression—all because Russell Bronson had deigned to return.

The parallels between herself and her mother were strong. So strong, she could begin to see how Annie’s life began and ended
with Russell. A lifetime in limbo. No way would Charlotte allow herself to end up like her. She looked back and forth between
the two men with the power to rip her heart to pieces if she let them. She couldn’t afford to soften toward either one right
now.

Much as she didn’t want to hurt Roman, he represented everything she feared. How had she let herself forget that? “You know,
now that I think about it, you two have so much in common it’s uncanny.”

Russell glanced at Roman, or, more accurately, Charlotte thought, Roman’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Oh, I am. How long are you in town for this time? A day? A weekend? Or maybe longer, since you have a few months before pilot
season starts.”

“Charlotte!” Her mother spoke up, giving her daughter a warning touch on the arm.

Charlotte covered her mother’s chilled hand with her own. The last person she wanted to hurt was Annie. “See? He doesn’t have
an answer, Mom. He’ll leave when he gets bored.”

Charlotte glanced up at Roman, then turned away when a lump rose to her throat. “How about you?” she asked without meeting
his gaze. “Raina looks healthier by the day, thank God.” She pointed to where his mother sat on a beach blanket with Eric
Fallon, watching them. So were Fred Aames, Marianne Diamond, Pearl Robinson, Eldin Wingate, and everyone else in town. Charlotte
hated being the center of notoriety. “You can take off anytime now too. I told you, you both had a lot in common.”

Before she could lose control of herself or what remained of her composure, she pivoted and took off. Away from her mother,
her father, but most of all, away from Roman.

R
oman watched Charlotte go. Away from the field, her father, and away from him. Her pain was his pain, and he shoved his hands
in his pockets and groaned in frustration. He couldn’t let her run off alone. Not when she was so upset. He’d just seen firsthand
the devastation her father’s return had caused.

“Someone ought to go after her,” Annie said. Clearly she wasn’t referring to herself, since she gripped Russell’s arm more
firmly.

“Someone should,” Russell added. “But she won’t listen to anything I have to say.”

“Is it any wonder?” Roman raised an eyebrow at her parents. “I’m not here to pass judgment”—Lord knew he didn’t live a blameless
life—“but did either one of you consider talking to her privately instead of making a public spectacle of this family reunion?”
Feeling precious minutes slipping away, Roman glanced out toward the field. Relief passed through him when he realized Charlotte
was taking the long route home, on foot.

Russell shrugged helplessly, regret obvious in the green eyes that looked so much like Charlotte’s. “Annie felt sure she wouldn’t
come over if we told her on the phone and thought she wouldn’t walk out on us in a crowd.”

“And you don’t know her well enough to say differently.”

Russell shook his head. “But I want to. I always have.”

Roman’s mother and Eric chose that moment to join them. Roman had been surprised to see his mother at the baseball game, but
since she’d been with Eric again, and sitting on a blanket the whole time, he figured she was feeling up to it. And maybe
even feeling a bit better.

“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Eric said.

“Apparently, in this group, the more the merrier,” Roman muttered. He had little time left before he’d have to break down
Charlotte’s door if he wanted to get her alone. “Russell, can I have a word with you?” he asked, shooting his mother a pointed,
knowing glance.

“Annie, come have some lemonade. I made it myself and it’s delicious.”

“But …” Panic flared in Annie’s eyes, as if she were afraid in the five minutes she’d be gone, Russell would disappear again.

Watching Annie gave Roman better insight into Charlotte’s fears. She wasn’t anything like her insecure mother, yet he could
see how she’d instilled a fear in Charlotte—the fear of becoming as needy and sadly pathetic and isolated as her own mother.

He wanted to shield her from pain and take care of her forever, but Charlotte would freeze him out before she’d let him close
enough to hurt her. And the thought shook him straight to the core.

Because he loved her.

He loved her.
The truth settled in his heart, warming places that had always been cold.

He admired her fierce desire to maintain herself and her individuality, to not end up like her mother. He admired the business
she’d built on her own, in a town that hadn’t been prepared, yet she’d won the people over anyway. He loved how she saw the
best in him even when he didn’t deserve it. He loved everything about her.

Viewing her deepest pain up close forced him to acknowledge his feelings. Feelings that had to come second to Charlotte’s
needs or he’d risk losing her forever. He’d tell her, but the timing had to be right.

It was beyond him how he’d know when that was. Roman’s family was hardly setting an example of functional relationships. Chase
was hanging out with the single guys from the paper, drinking beer, talking sports, and sleeping with the occasional good-time
woman and never getting involved. Rick rescued women, and right now he was playing Prince Charming to Beth Hansen until she
got over her broken engagement and was ready to move on. Then he’d move on as well to the next woman in his life.

Roman shook his head, knowing he didn’t have the role models to look to for answers. He was on his own.

“No buts,” Eric cut in, speaking to Annie, his voice somehow soothing yet authoritative at the same time. “I have to insist
you taste Raina’s drink. Besides, Raina isn’t supposed to spend too much time on her feet, and I’d appreciate you taking her
back to the blanket until I can get there.”

“Go on, Annie.” Russell patted her arm and eased himself out of her grasp.

Once the trio had disappeared, Roman faced Charlotte’s father. “I don’t have much time.”

“I realize that. But you should know life is more complicated than any of you”—Russell swept his arm around, gesturing to
the ball field and hence the people of the town—“can understand.”

In his pained expression, Roman didn’t see the self-absorbed actor who’d abandoned his family for fame and fortune. Instead
he saw an aging man who’d lost much. Roman let out a groan. “It’s not any of us who needs to understand. It’s your daughter.”
He pinned Russell with a steady gaze. “If you really care, I hope you’ll take the time during this trip to prove it.”

“She’d have to be willing to listen.”

Roman shrugged. “
Make
her listen.” After a last glare, Roman took off for the parking lot at a run, intending to take his own advice.

“It’s time, Annie.” Russell Bronson sat on the picnic blanket loaned to him by Raina Chandler. After the four of them had
talked, Eric had taken Raina home, leaving Russell and Annie alone. Russell remembered Raina as a kind neighbor, a good mother
to her three boys, and a friend to his wife. Obviously things hadn’t changed.

And that was the problem, Russ thought. Nothing had changed. From the day he married Annie Wilson, the girl he’d fallen in
love with in fifth grade, until now, everything in Annie’s world had stayed the same.

She curled her legs beneath her and stared out at the players on the field. “I’m not sure it will make a difference,” she
said at last.

Neither was he, but all they could do was try. Russell patted his pocket and felt for the paper he’d taken from Dr. Eric Fallon.
Before taking his leave, Eric had spoken to both Russell and Annie as her doctor. Annie was depressed, he’d said. Clinically,
most probably.

Why hadn’t Russell realized it before? He’d like to think it was because he wasn’t a doctor, but he was man enough to acknowledge
his own faults. He was selfish and self-centered. His desires had always come first. He’d never slowed down long enough to
consider why Annie spoke and acted the way she did. He’d just accepted Annie, same as she’d accepted him.

Depression, he thought once more. Something Charlotte had picked up on and called Dr. Fallon about. Now it was up to Russell
to ask Annie to get herself help. He shook his head and silently thanked his beautiful, headstrong daughter for realizing
what he hadn’t.