To Have and to Hold (13 page)

“D
on't be stupid, Jess. I know I'm as responsible for it as you.”

“Responsibility?
It?
We're talking about our baby, Gabriel!” she repeated, reaching out to grip his arms and shake him, but he was immoveable. “How can you single-handedly decide you're going to send our child away?”

“That's the end of this discussion.” He pushed her hands off his arms, gentle but firm.

Shaken to the core, she stood unmoving as he turned to walk inside the house. And then she knew, as if an angel had whispered the answer in her ear. “This is about them.”

He faced her. “It's about nothing but my own recognition of having made a mistake. I don't want a child underfoot and I don't want to be a father.”

“The fact that the anniversary of the fire is two days away has nothing to do with it?”

“I got used to that a long time ago. It's just another day.” The door slammed behind him.

Jess sat on the step, hugging her arms around her raised knees. She had no idea what to do. Gabriel had sounded so resolute, so unyielding.

But tempting as it was to take the easy route, she hadn't lost the ability to think. Not yet. The anniversary
was
two days away and whatever it was that Gabe didn't want her to know, it had to do with the fire and his family. What was also true was that his new attitude toward the pregnancy made no sense.

Jess rubbed at her eyes as she stood and prepared to return to the house. There had to be a reason behind his inexplicable reaction. There had to be. Because if there wasn't, then there was no hope for this marriage.

None at all.

* * *

In spite of what he'd said two nights ago when he'd dropped that bombshell about their child, Jess had expected some sort of acknowledgment of the anniversary from Gabriel. But he went about his business as usual and the others on the station followed his lead.

“Is it always like this?” she asked Mrs. C., feeling disloyal for making even that simple inquiry.

“Long as I've been working here.” The other woman put away the lunch dishes. “Don't fuss so, Jess. He was a young boy when it happened. It's natural he'd put it behind him.”

Jess wondered exactly how well he'd put it behind him. She was sure he'd had another nightmare last night. After a few more minutes of useless thinking, she picked up the keys to the SUV. “I'm going to the Randall station house,” she made sure to tell Mrs. C. “I want to do some work on the garden, but I'll be back before dark.”

“I'll let Gabe know.” Mrs. C. smiled. “Do you want to take a snack with you?”

“Have you got some crackers or something?”

Mrs. C. eventually sent her on her way with far too much food, including a container of fresh fruit salad and a thermos full of the hot, sweet tea Jess had taken to drinking lately. Driving out, Jess wondered if she should've told Mrs. C the real reason for her journey but decided she'd done the right thing. Anyone looking for her would find her easily enough.

The drive from Angel to what had once been her home was now familiar. She got out without feeling the least bit tired and spent the next hour tidying up the garden. Then, using a pair of gardening shears, she began to gather a large bunch of flowers from the plants that had anticipated the coming spring. Because she didn't want to denude any one area, it took her almost half an hour to collect a sizable bouquet.

Putting the mass on the passenger seat, she drove to the Randall family plot to lay some blooms on her parents' graves. “I miss you,” she said quietly. “But I think I'm going to be okay now. Funny how such a tiny thing inside you can make you so strong.”

Returning to the car after a quick tidy up of the area, she turned back toward Angel. The Dumont plot was located about fifteen minutes from the main house.

When she arrived, she was surprised to find one of the small flatbed trucks used around the station parked nearby. Who else, she wondered, had come to pay their respects? Bringing the SUV to a stop, she got out, grabbed the flowers and made her way around the truck. But the man she saw kneeling by a heartbreakingly small headstone was not anyone she'd expected.

Feeling like a trespasser on his grief, she would have left had he not already seen her. “I bought flowers.”

There was no visible sadness on Gabriel's face. But three of the graves had little gifts on them—a pinecone on the first, a river-stone on the second and a tiny bunch of wild daisies on the third. Swallowing her tears, she added her offerings to his while he stood by, a silent shadow.

“I'm sorry.” She met those impenetrable green eyes. “I didn't mean to intrude.”

“There's nothing to be sorry about.” He dusted off his hat and placed it on his head. “I have to be getting back.”

And that quickly, he was gone. But she wasn't fooled, not this time. Turning, she looked at those graves again. Daisies for a tiny sister who'd probably made daisy chains, a river-stone for Raphael—maybe he'd liked to fish or swim—and a pinecone for Michael who'd perhaps loved to climb.

Such small things and yet Gabriel had gone to the trouble of finding and bringing them here. Crying openly, she began to head back to the SUV. Then something made her turn and look at the two adult graves. Nothing lay on them but the flowers she'd put there.

There was no longer any doubt in her mind that Gabriel had loved his siblings deeply, but those two barren graves told her that that wasn't the only part of this story she'd gotten wrong. What had happened with Stephen and Mary Dumont? And why was her husband still so angry about it?

Angry enough to forsake his own child.

* * *

Jess spent the next several days trying to get Gabriel to talk and hitting a brick wall. Their battles were so intense and his silence so intractable that by the time she landed in Auckland for the show, she was emotionally black and blue. He'd shut her out to a degree that frightened her, making her despair for the future of their marriage.

“Jess!”

She jerked up at the sound of her own name and met Mrs. Kilpatrick's excited face. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Mrs. Kilpatrick enveloped her in a hug scented with Chanel No.5. “Think nothing of it. Since I was already here and with the car, it was no problem. I'm so delighted for you. Richard's generated lots of advance buzz for the opening so I'm sure it'll be a smash.”

“I have a feeling you had a lot to do with that, too.” Jess had a very good idea of Mrs. Kilpatrick's social reach.

The other woman brushed off the words but a pleased blush lit up her features. “Let's get you to the hotel. It's eleven now so you'll have plenty of time to get ready for the opening. Richard did tell you he decided to push it back to seven?”

“Yes.” Jess nodded, though she felt curiously detached from the whole thing.

“What about Gabriel? Is he taking a later flight, or flying himself up?” Mrs. Kilpatrick unlocked the trunk of her rental car and Jess put in her small case.

“He isn't going to make it.” She tried not to betray her disappointment. “He's so busy right now.”

“Oh, that's unfortunate but I do know how it gets.”

The drive from the airport to the hotel passed by easily enough and Jess was in her room within the hour. Soon after that came lunch at the hotel restaurant, where she met Richard for the first time.

He was as charming and as intelligent in person as he'd been over the phone and on e-mail. She found her trust in his judgment solidifying into genuine liking. A feeling that he apparently shared if his farewell comment was anything to go by.

“My dear, sweet Jess, I think we're going to have a long and exciting relationship.” Smiling, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Having a chance to nurture a talent like yours is what makes me have faith in my work.”

The compliment boosted her professional confidence, but emotionally, she continued to feel off-kilter. Lost. “Thank you.”

When he left to finalize things at the gallery, she went back up to her room and hung out the dress she planned to squeeze into for the opening. The
red
dress, rich as wine and dark as blood. It was already almost too snug with the way her body was changing, so this would be her last chance to wear it for a while. And wear it she would. Too bad if her husband couldn't be bothered to show up.

After popping out for a quick shopping trip to pick up some things she couldn't get in Kowhai, she returned to get ready, as Richard wanted her at the gallery an hour early. The phone came to life a minute into her preparations, making her heart stutter. Maybe Gabe had changed his mind.

“Hello?”

“Jessie, guess where I am?”

The dawning smile was wiped off her face. “Damon.” She sat on the bed. “Aren't you supposed to be in Hawkes Bay?”

“I was but I called home last night and heard you were having a show. I couldn't miss my Jessie's first show. My mom called someone and they called Mrs. Kilpatrick and now I'm on the guest list.” He chuckled. “I'm in Hamilton right now, should make it to Auckland before your party starts.”

“What about Kayla and Cecily?”

“They're at home. Kayla didn't want to drive up with the baby.”

“Of course she didn't. Cecily's too young for such a long drive.”

A pause. “I thought you'd be happy. We haven't had a chance to see each other since the hospital.”

“You have a wife and a child, Damon.” She wondered if he was hearing what she was trying to say. “Get back in that car and go home to them or maybe Kayla will stop waiting for you.”

“Like you, Jess?” The volume of his voice dropped. “Have you stopped waiting for me?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I'll always be your friend.”

“I sure screwed up when I let you go.”

“No, you didn't.” He could have never made her happy, something she'd finally begun to understand. “You married a woman who loves you and you have a beautiful daughter. Don't throw that away.”

Another pause. “I guess I got selfish, wanting to be loved by you, too. But that's gone isn't it?”

“Yes,” she said. “It's gone.” She wasn't sure it had ever really existed. And that scared her, because for her to question what had once been an absolute truth meant that something far more powerful had taken its place. Something stronger, more enduring and infinitely more real than the fading illusion of a teenage dream. “You take care of your family, Damon.”

“And you be careful, Jessie. He's not—”

“Shh.” She shook her head—some loyalties were set in stone. “Have a safe trip home.”

He didn't bring up the subject again. “I hope you become rich and famous.”

Hanging up, Jess dove back into her interrupted preparations. If she didn't think about what had just occurred, about her devastating insight into the nature of her feelings for Damon, she wouldn't have to consider the reason behind it…wouldn't have to look into the vibrant heart of an emotion so raw and potent, it eclipsed everything that had come before.

* * *

Jess walked into the gallery feeling like an imposter. Taking off her coat to hang on the coatrack, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging near the entrance. The color of the dress went beautifully with her hair, but it was the way the fabric hugged her body that was truly extraordinary.

She should have felt sexy and confident, yet she couldn't help but think that the man she most wanted to see her wasn't going to be here tonight. She wasn't important enough for him to bother. Pain cut rivers into a heart she'd tried so desperately to harden.

“Jess!” Richard's face lit up the second he saw her. “You look ravishing.” He offered her his arm.

She let him lead her into the gallery space. “Should I have tried for a more arty look?” All three of his assistants were wearing head-to-toe black, though Richard himself was dressed in a beautiful dove-gray suit.

“Affectations like those,” he whispered under his breath, “will make you blend in. And you, Jess, are meant to be a star.” Releasing her arm, he settled her unbound hair carefully around her shoulders. “Did I tell you that it's a by-invitation-only shindig tonight? No starving art students who're just here to eat.”

Her laughter came from the same part of her that couldn't seem to stop believing in hope. “How much are you asking for my paintings?”

“Lots.”

“Will people pay that for an unknown?”

“They'll do as I say.” His eyes gleamed. “I'm offering them a chance to get in at the bottom floor with someone I predict will become huge, and I've never been wrong.”

Jess expected his prediction to buoy her up, but even when the guests started arriving and more compliments began flowing, she felt strangely disconnected. Her body might be in Auckland, but her mind was in the Mackenzie Country. The reason why wasn't something she particularly wanted to consider.