The Secrets of Her Past

The doors opened again. “This is our floor.”

His hand touched her waist again, delivering another jolt. She bustled out as quickly as she could without knocking aside the others crammed into the box. She’d rather face Dr. Drake and the hospital room instead of this crazy hormonal imbalance.

The minute she cleared the crowd the smell hit her. Antiseptic. Alcohol-based hand sanitizer. Scorched coffee. Leftover food from the rack of trays waiting to be picked up. Hospital smells were the kind you never forgot. Then the muffled sounds penetrated the pulse pounding her eardrums. Hushed voices. A distant cough. Someone moaning in pain. Televisions on different channels droning from multiple rooms. She hadn’t forgotten the noises, either. When you lie in bed with nothing to think about except your misery, you searched for any distraction.

“He’s at the end of the hall.” Adam’s long stride carried him away.

Her mouth dried. It wasn’t the same floor, but the layout was identical. Different paint and tile colors didn’t change the memories or the emotions this place evoked. She didn’t want to be here, but she would get through it the same way she’d gotten through everything else life had thrown at her—by treating each difficult moment like the Iditarod, gritting her teeth and soldiering on step after step, mile after mile. The sooner she did this, the sooner Adam would take her home. No, not home—his house. Back to that shrine to Andrew. But even that was better than here.

She ordered her feet forward, then stopped outside the room, where Adam guarded the entrance. Through the open door she spotted Helen in the recliner by the bed. Her former mother-in-law hadn’t noticed their arrival. She had her head bent over her wringing hands. Her shoulders drooped and lines creased her forehead. Worry had robbed her face of all color, save the shadows as dark as bruises beneath her eyes. Sympathy clutched Madison’s insides.

Adam tapped on the door and Helen’s head snapped up. She bolted to her feet, pasted on a forged smile for her son, then her gaze, filled with a cocktail of anger and loathing, focused on Madison.

“Good. You’re here.” Her cold tone held no welcome. Bitterness twisted her lips. “I need a breath of fresh air.”

She barged past them. Only then did Madison look at the patient. A chest tube and a catheter drained into containers hanging from the bed. Dann—Dr. Dra— Who was she kidding? She couldn’t keep her distance. Not when she’d been walking in his footsteps and handling his patients and instruments all day. She’d lost count of the number of clients who’d asked about him.

Danny’s face was nearly as ashen as Helen’s. His eyes were sunken and closed, his lips pale and dry.

Adam touched his shoulder. “Dad, Madison’s here.”

Danny’s lids flickered open, revealing a blue-green gaze so like Adam’s, but the irises looked faded and his gaze unfocused. “How’s my girl? I’ve been waiting for you.”

His weak voice tugged at something deep inside her. She’d never had a chance to say goodbye to her father. Was she saying goodbye to Danny now? No. He’d only been out of surgery a few hours. He’d be back to his old self soon. She had to believe that.

The hand he lifted from the bed trembled. Madison tried to harden her heart, to block out the worry, but she couldn’t. She did, however, ignore that hand. Say your piece and get out.

“We had a smooth day at the office. Your staff is wonderful. That’s why I can’t believe—”

He coughed and winced. The words died on her tongue. How could she condemn and interrogate him when he was in pain and still hung over from anesthesia?

She couldn’t. Her questions could wait until next week. “I can’t believe how efficient they are.”

Adam’s hard face relaxed slightly.

“They know...how I like...things done. You do, too. Well trained. Like you.” His struggle for breath between words made Madison uncomfortable. The hand tethered to the blood oxygen meter gingerly covered his rib.

“They definitely know your methods.”

“Dad, you need to rest.” Adam pulled out his wallet and offered Madison some folded money. “Take Mom down to the cafeteria.”

Appalled at the idea of one-on-one time with Helen, she tucked her hands behind her back. “I’m not hungry.”

He caught her left wrist, pressed the money into her palm and folded her fingers around it. His hands were warm, slightly rough, inarguably firm, but not hurtful. Her senses rioted.

“Please, Madison. She hasn’t left his side all day, and she insists on staying here tonight. She needs a break. See that she takes it.”

When he put it that way, how could she refuse?

* * *

HELEN LEANED AGAINST the wall by the nurses’ station, staring into the black sludge they called coffee. If she had the energy she’d teach them how to make it correctly, but every nerve in her body was raw and each muscle was so exhausted from fear and worry she wanted to crumple to the floor and cry. But, of course, she wouldn’t.

Desperately needing the caffeine and the sugar she’d liberally poured into the cup, she forced herself to sip the vile brew. She had to be strong for Danny. She couldn’t lose him. He was her life, and she’d do anything—even tolerate the woman who’d killed her son and grandchild—if it helped him beat this cancer.

But enduring Madison’s presence wasn’t easy. Every time Helen looked at her former daughter-in-law the agony started anew. She remembered the conversation she’d had with Andrew when he’d confessed Madison was making him look bad at the office and the glint in his eyes a few months later when they’d announced the surprise pregnancy.

What had Andrew done? Had he taken her motherly advice the wrong way? And had the car accident been partly her fault?

No. Madison had been driving. Andrew’s and little Daniel’s deaths were Madison’s fault. She had to believe that. She had to or she’d lose her mind.

How could Danny “forgive and move on” so easily? Madison had told the police officer that she and Andrew had been arguing at the time of the crash, and she’d admitted to taking her eyes off the road. If that didn’t make her guilty, then what did?

But Danny refused to listen. It was as if he’d closed the door on Andrew the day they’d walked away from his lifeless body here at this hospital. He refused to talk about their loss and got mad at her if she tried to. If not for the fact that he kept their son’s office exactly as Andrew had left it, she’d think Danny had forgotten Andrew had ever existed. But now she was beginning to suspect he’d kept the office waiting for Madison’s return.

“When Madison comes home...” had become a hated chorus in their house. Danny yammered about her as if she was a saint who could do no wrong, the resurrection of all their hopes and dreams, one who would make their lives whole again. But their lives would never be the same—not without Andrew. You’d think Danny would realize that. Madison had made her lack of appreciation for all they’d done for her clear at every turn.

“Mom.”

She straightened at the sound of Adam’s voice and smoothed her expression as best she could before facing him. She didn’t want him to worry and wouldn’t let him know she clung to the cliff of her breaking point with splitting fingernails.

“Please show Madison where the cafeteria is located.”

She flinched, sloshing the swill in her cup. He wanted her to take care of his brother’s killer? It seemed like betrayal that he, too, expected her to forget Madison’s part in ruining their lives. “It’s in the basement and easy to find. There are signs to mark the way,” she said to Adam, ignoring Madison, who stood behind him.

“I don’t have time to look for her if she gets lost, Mom. Just make sure she gets there and gets back, and grab something for yourself while you’re there. You haven’t eaten today.”

She stared into her son’s implacable face. What he asked wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But he could be as hardheaded as his father sometimes, and she couldn’t afford to offend Adam. If anything happened to Danny, Adam was all she had left.

The panicked sensation began to swell again, making it difficult to draw a breath. She punched her anxiety like rising dough, then dropped the almost full cup into the trash can and headed for the elevators. Madison fell into step beside her. Helen said nothing. Her grandmother had taught her that if she didn’t have anything nice to say she shouldn’t speak at all.

The wound Madison had inflicted was too deep to heal. Helen had never hated anyone in her life. The Bible said “forgive those who trespass against us,” and she had tried. But she was weak and she couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive Madison Monroe.

The crowded elevator saved her from having to make conversation. She wedged herself into the opposite corner. Once they reached the cafeteria, the smell of the food made her nauseous. Needing to escape but unable to bear the idea of going back upstairs and seeing Danny hooked to machines and looking like death, she pivoted toward a table by the window. All she needed was five minutes to regroup, then she’d return to her bedside vigil.

“Don’t you want something?” Madison called.

“No.”

She stared at the fountain in the walled courtyard outside. Her life was a lot like the koi’s. More often than not she felt as if she was swimming in circles and getting nowhere. Her existence had no purpose or meaning anymore. Preparing dinner for the boys used to be the highlight of her day. Then after Adam left it was only Andrew and Danny. Now Danny worked all the time. He seemed to prefer the office to their home and his animals’ and his staff’s company to hers.

She’d been excited when Adam moved back to Norcross, but he had little time for his mother. Come to think of it, his avoidance of home had started soon after Madison and Andrew had become involved. On the rare times he had come home during a school vacation Adam had spent almost no time at the house. He’d preferred going out with his friends to hanging out with his brother—yet another reason to dislike the woman. She’d come between her sons, dissolving the closeness that only identical twins shared.

Helen closed her eyes, blocking out the voices around her. She tried to remember the good ol’ days when she’d had all three Drake men sitting around her table. Three hungry males willing to try any recipe she served, and more often than not, she’d had a houseful of their friends, too. She’d been happy then.

What would she do if Danny didn’t make it? The thought darted out of nowhere, catapulting her from her peaceful place.

Don’t think that way.

But she couldn’t help it. Other than lunches with the garden club every two months, Helen had nothing to entertain herself with except watching cooking shows on TV. When she experimented with new recipes, she usually ate them alone. Her labor-intensive meals had often turned into congealed messes by the time Danny got home.

Madison set a lidded cup and a handful of creamers and sweeteners in front of Helen, then lowered into the chair across from her. “I suspect the coffee here is slightly better than upstairs. It doesn’t smell burned.”

“I didn’t ask for that.” And she wouldn’t drink it. She didn’t want to be beholden to this woman for anything more than her help with Danny.

“I know. But Adam gave me money and asked me to get you to eat. I didn’t know what you wanted.”

“I’m not hungry.” Helen scanned Madison’s tray. A grilled chicken and spinach salad and a bottle of some kind of vitamin-fortified water. How could Madison eat at a time like this? If the surgeon hadn’t gotten everything, Danny could die. Even now there could be nasty cells floating around in his body looking for healthy tissue to attack.

“Are you sure you don’t want something?”

She battled another wave of fear. “No.”

Madison stabbed the salad with her fork and put some into her mouth. She chewed, but she looked as if she derived no pleasure from the food. It hadn’t been that way when the two of them had shared the kitchen on weekends when Madison had come home from school. Bitterness welled inside Helen, burning the back of her throat like acid.

“Do you know what the first questions out of Danny’s mouth were when he came out of anesthesia? ‘Where’s Madison? How’s my practice?’” Helen couldn’t keep the hostility and pain from her voice. She was no actress.

“Danny defines himself by his job. Most men do.”

“Danny is more than a veterinarian. He’s a husband and a father first. There’s more to life than his damned animals.”

She bit her tongue. She never swore. It wasn’t ladylike. Her grandmother had raised her better. But to hear Madison defending Danny got on her last nerve. From what Andrew had said before he’d...passed, Madison was like Danny. Career obsessed and uninterested in mothering their child.

If Helen’s fears were true and Andrew had done what she suspected he might have done, how angry would a career-driven woman be at having her plans derailed? Angry enough to wreck a car on purpose? Angry enough to cause an injury that might hurt the unborn child he claimed she hadn’t wanted?

“I know he’s more than a vet, Helen, but there are so many animals in need of help that sometimes when you get home you have nothing left to give.” Surprise then regret filled Madison’s eyes. She ducked her head as if she regretted her confession.

“Not in your tiny practice.” Not nice, Helen. Shamed by her rudeness, she hid her face by drinking some of the coffee. It was better than the tar upstairs, but it could use improvement. And Adam had paid for it, so she wouldn’t owe Madison anything if she drank it. She opened the lid and added cream and sugar.

“My practice may be small, but because it’s in a rural area it’s a dumping ground for abused or unwanted animals. It keeps me busy.”

“Euthanizing the strays?”

“No.” Madison sounded genuinely shocked by the question. She stirred her salad. “I should. But I can’t unless there’s no chance for quality of life. My farm’s full of them. I try to find homes for each one, but not every animal is adoptable.”

Helen had always wanted a dog or cat, at first for the boys, then for herself when she discovered she couldn’t have more children, but Danny said he got slobbered on by animals all day. He didn’t want to have to deal with them when he came home.

After Madison’s family had been killed, Andrew had called her “his little stray,” and Helen had adopted her like the daughter or pet she never had. But Madison had bitten the hand that fed her, so to speak. Helen owed her no loyalty, especially if she’d—

No, don’t think that. Surely a woman who couldn’t euthanize every stray that crossed her path wouldn’t deliberately wreck her car because she hadn’t gotten her way. Or would she?

Madison’s golden-brown eyes met hers. There was a hard glint to them that had not been there before Andrew’s passing. “How long has Danny been spying on me?”

Affronted, Helen stiffened. “He is not spying. He’s interested in your welfare. He invested a lot of time in you.”

“Yes, he did. And that’s why I’m here.” Madison pushed the green leaves around in her bowl again. “He doesn’t really believe I’ll abandon my practice and move back to Norcross, does he?”

Helen wished she could say no with certainty, but since his diagnosis, his comments suggesting otherwise had become so frequent she couldn’t ignore them. She gulped more coffee, trying to wash down her worry.

What if Madison returned and Danny and Adam discovered Helen’s part in the unwanted pregnancy? She’d lose their respect. She might even lose her husband and son.

“We both know you’re not going to come back.”

“No. I’m not. How long do you think it will be before your house is livable?”

“Danny insists on doing all the work, so not until he’s healed enough to do it. Why?”

“I’d prefer not to inconvenience Adam.”

“Isn’t his house nice enough? Danny says your farmhouse is nothing impressive.” The ugly words jumped from her mouth before she could stop them.

Madison flinched. “I’d prefer a hotel.”

“I’ll talk to Danny and see if we can get you a room, but don’t get your hopes up. He’s not sure he can trust you to keep your promise.”

Madison laid down her fork and snapped the lid onto her half-eaten meal. “I’m well aware that none of you trust me, Helen. But unlike some people, I keep my promises.”

Helen caught a glimpse of regret before Madison bolted to her feet. Trepidation trickled through her. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired. We’d better get upstairs.” And then she walked away.

What had Madison meant? She’d never been one to make unkind remarks. Or had she hidden her true nature well? Did she know about that mother-son conversation? Was she confirming that Andrew had done something he shouldn’t have?

Digging for answers was like picking at a scab. It hurt. It made Helen’s heart bleed. And she wasn’t sure how much more grief she could handle. Best to let sleeping dogs lie before she learned something she couldn’t live with.

CHAPTER FIVE

SHAKING HIS ARMS to ease the burn in his muscles, Adam walked away from the weight bench. One more set and maybe he could sleep. Working out this close to bedtime wasn’t a good idea, but he was too wound up to lie on his back and stare at the shadows dancing across the ceiling, as he’d done last night.

A flash of movement outside caught his attention. He stepped closer to the window. Madison paced the screened porch on the opposite end of the house in the dark. The moonlight reflected off her white clothing.

It was almost eleven o’clock—too late for her to be up, considering she’d barely stayed awake during the car ride home from the hospital. Or had she been faking it when she’d had her head back against the headrest and her eyes closed?

He grabbed his towel, wiped the sweat from his face and headed down the hall to find out what was wrong.

In the den he simultaneously flipped on the light and thrust open the door, then stepped outside. Madison spun to face him. The cool night air chilling the sweat on his skin had beaded her nipples beneath her thin T-shirt. His heart thumped hard against his ribs. He yanked his gaze back to her face. “What are you doing out here?”

“Unwinding.”

Every muscle in her long, bare legs was as tense as a bowstring, belying her answer. She bit her lip and folded her arms. The move hiked up the bottom of her shirt a few inches, revealing the hem of her shiny running shorts. At least she wasn’t naked beneath the shirt. Her toes curled on the deck, and lust kicked him square in the gut. He punted it right back. There was nothing sexy about bare feet and unpainted toenails.

“You should be in bed. Tomorrow will be as busy as today.”

“I’m not tired yet.”

The shadows beneath her eyes told a different story. “You can’t sleep out here, Madison. There’s a perfectly good bed inside.”

“I’m fine. Don’t let me keep you from—” Her gaze traveled across his bare chest, then down to the waistband of his gym shorts—his only piece of clothing. His blood chased south right behind it. “Whatever you were doing.”

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