Secret Courtship
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away from him, toward the side gate. Her knees threatened to buckle under her, but with every ounce of determination she possessed she willed them to hold up, and they did.
As she pulled open the gate she thought he said something, but she let the gate swing shut behind her and it clicked loudly, drowning out any words that followed her.
By the time she reached her own front door she could feel the pricking of tears, and fiercely she blinked them away. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give in to the horrid memories tearing at her.
She drew in a ragged breath as she closed the door behind her and leaned against it. That poor man—her lips twisted in a bleak smile-how astonished he had looked when she’d flinched away from his upraised hand. Was he still wondering why she’d reacted that way, or would he have already forgotten about it—forgotten about her?
She pushed herself from the door and made her way to the living-room, where the afternoon sun beamed in on the faded old chintzes and mellowed woods. Wearily she stood at the patio doors, staring out through a haze of tears. How she longed to go out and wander round the garden, to draw strength from its quiet beauty. But she couldn’t.
Nick Diamond might go upstairs, might look down from one of his windows and see her. She had decided earlier that she would ignore him; now she knew such a thing was impossible.
CHAPTER FOUR
NEXT day, the bad weather had returned, and Laura began the daunting task of cataloguing Charity’s vast collection of books. She didn’t stop for lunch, just munching on a small plate of cheese and crackers as she worked, and at around five o’clock she decided to break for dinner.
She was on her way to the kitchen when she heard the doorbell ring, and she changed direction. On opening the door, she saw, to her astonishment, standing on the top step, a small boy huddled under a hooded yellow slicker. His black hair tumbled down over his brow, his face was pinched and his tear-filled gray eyes were filled with panic.
With an exclamation of dismay, Laura crouched down so she was at his level. “What is it?” she asked. “What’s—?”
“I’m Matt,” he burst out. “It’s my mom. She fell down in the kitchen, and she told me to come next door and get you. If you were home.”
Laura swept the child inside. Cold raindrops fell from his slicker, chilling the warm skin at her wrists. “Sally?”
He shuddered, and, clamping his lips together, nodded, as if speech was no longer an option for him.
Laura squelched her own feelings of panic. Grabbing her waterproof jacket from the hallstand, she threw it over her shoulders and ushered the little boy outside. Snatching up his hand, she ran with him along her own driveway and then up the one next door. Blown by the wind, they skimmed together up the steps leading to the ornate front entrance.
“It’s not locked,” Matt gasped.
As they entered the spacious hall the wind tore the doorbandle from Laura’s grasp, and the door banged shut.
Matt tugged Laura’s sleeve. “This way...”
“Is that you, Matt? Did you get Laura?” Sally’s voice came from the back of the house. Laura allowed the child to run ahead of her. “Was she home—? Oh, Laura, thank God...”
Laura uttered a sharp exclamation as she saw Sally’s bulky figure lying awkwardly on the marble floor. Dressed in a green top and white pants, she was sprawled out on her side, and behind her on the floor, with his arms looped around his mother’s neck, was Matt’s brother, sobbing.
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