Midnight Sons Volume 2 (9 page)

“Mitch?”

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped aside.

He walked in and looked around. If Bill was there, he saw no evidence of it.

She’d been combing her hair, and the brush was still in her hand. She didn’t ask Mitch why he’d come.

He suspected she knew.

“Did Landgrin try anything?” Mitch demanded.

Her eyes narrowed as if she didn’t understand the question.

“Landgrin. Did he try anything?” he repeated gruffly.

She blinked. “No. He was a perfect gentleman.”

Mitch shoved his fingers though his hair as he paced the confines of her small living room. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what a fool he was making of himself.

“Will you be seeing him again?”

“That’s my business.”

He closed his eyes and nodded. He had no argument. “Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come.” He stalked toward the door, eager to escape.

“Mitch?”

His hand was on the doorknob. He stopped but didn’t turn around.

“I won’t be seeing Bill Landgrin again.”

Relief coursed through him.

“Mitch?”

She was close, so very close. He could feel her breath against the back of his neck. All he had to do was turn and she’d be there. His arms ached to hold her. His hand tightened on the doorknob as though it were a lifeline.

“I won’t see Bill again,” she said in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear, “because I’d much rather be seeing you.”

A week after Catherine Fletcher’s death, the town held a memorial service. Although she’d never met Catherine, Bethany felt obliged to attend. She slipped into the crowded church and took a place in the last row, one of the only seats left. It seemed everyone in Hard Luck wanted to say a formal goodbye to the woman who’d had such a strong impact on their community.

When news of Catherine’s death had hit town, it was all anyone could talk about. Apparently the woman’s parents had been the second family to settle in Hard Luck. Bethany knew that Catherine had grown up with David O’Halloran, although a lot of the history between the two families remained unclear to her. But it was obvious that Catherine had played a major role in shaping the town. Folks either loved her or hated her, but either way, they respected her feisty opinions and gutsy spirit.

The mood was somber, the sense of loss keen. Hard Luck was laying to rest a piece of its heart.

A number of people attending the service were strangers to Bethany. The members of Catherine’s family had flown in for
the memorial, including an older couple she assumed was Catherine’s daughter and son-in-law. Matt Caldwell, Catherine’s grandson, lived in Hard Luck. Bethany had met him one Saturday afternoon at Ben’s café. She remembered that Matt had bought the partially burned lodge from the O’Hallorans and was currently working on the repairs.

When they’d met, Matt had told her he planned to open the lodge in time for the tourist traffic next June. Bethany was tempted to ask
what
tourist traffic, but she hadn’t.

Matt’s younger sister, Lanni, sat in the front pew, as well, Charles O’Halloran close by. Bethany had heard that they were engaged, with their wedding planned for sometime in April. Even from this distance, she could see how much in love they were. It was evident from the tender looks they shared and the protective stance Charles took at his fiancée’s side.

Abbey had told her about Charles and Lanni, and a little of the story about the O’Halloran brothers’ father and Catherine Fletcher. Bethany gathered that for many years there’d been no love lost between Catherine and the O’Hallorans. Then again, she thought, perhaps that
was
the problem between the two families.
Love lost.
Maybe, just maybe, it had been found again through Charles and Lanni.

Silently Bethany applauded them for having the courage to seek out their happiness, despite the past.

Reverend Wilson, the circuit minister, had flown in for the service. He stepped forward, holding his Bible, and began the service with a short prayer. Bethany solemnly bowed her head. No sooner had the prayer ended than Mitch Harris slipped into the pew beside her.

He didn’t acknowledge her in any way. She could have been a stranger for all the attention he gave her. His attitude stung. It hurt to realize that if there’d been anyplace else to sit, he would have taken it.

As the service progressed, Bethany noticed how restless Mitch became. He shifted position a number of times, almost as though he was in some discomfort. When she dared to look in his direction, she saw that his eyes were closed and his hands tightly clenched.

Then it hit her.

She knew little of his life, but she did know he was a widower.

Reverend Wilson opened his Bible and read from the Twenty-Third Psalm. “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.’”

Mitch had traversed that dark valley himself, and Bethany guessed that he hadn’t found the comfort the pastor spoke of. But it wasn’t Catherine Fletcher Mitch mourned. It was his dead wife. The woman he’d loved. And married. The woman who’d carried his child. The woman he couldn’t forget.

How foolish she’d been! Mitch didn’t want to become involved with her. How could he when he remained emotionally tied to his dead wife? No wonder he’d been fighting her so hard. He was trapped somewhere in the past, shackled to a memory, a dead love.

Bethany closed her eyes, shocked that it had taken her so long to see what should have been obvious. True, he was attracted to her. That much neither could deny. But he wasn’t free to love her. Maybe he didn’t
want
to be free. He probably hated himself for even thinking about someone else. His behavior at this memorial service explained everything.

Mitch leaned forward, supporting his elbows on his knees, and hid his face in his hands. He was in such unmistakable pain that Bethany couldn’t sit idly by and do nothing. Not knowing whether her gesture would be welcome, she drew a deep breath and laid her hand on his forearm.

He jerked himself upright and swiveled in his seat to look at
her. Surprise blossomed in his eyes. Apparently he’d forgotten he was sitting next to her. She gave him a quick smile, wanting him to know only that she was his friend. Nothing more.

Mitch blinked, and his face revealed a vulnerability that tore at her heart. She wanted to help, but she didn’t know how.

As if reading her thoughts, Mitch reached out and grasped her hand. The touch had nothing to do with physical desire. He’d come to her in his pain.

He let go of her almost immediately, then rose abruptly and hurried out of the church. Bethany twisted around and watched him leave, the doors slamming behind him.

Mitch stalked into his office, his chest heaving as if the short walk had demanded intense physical effort. His heart hammered wildly and his breathing was labored.

He’d decided at the last minute to attend the memorial service. He hadn’t known Catherine Fletcher well, but appreciated the contribution she and her family had made to the community.

Mitch had talked with her only a few times in the past five years. Nevertheless he’d seen his attendance at the service as a social obligation, a way of paying his respects.

But the minute he’d walked into the church, he’d been bombarded with memories of Lori. They’d come at him from all sides, closing in on him until he thought he’d suffocate.

He remembered the day he’d met her and how attracted he’d been to the delightful sound of her laughter. They’d been college sophomores, still young and inexperienced. Then they’d gotten married; they’d had the large, traditional wedding she’d wanted and he’d never seen a more beautiful bride. They were deeply in love, blissfully happy. At least he had been. In the beginning.

When they learned she was pregnant, a new joy, unlike anything he’d experienced before, had taken hold of him.
But after Chrissie was born, their lives had quickly slid downhill. Mitch covered his head. He didn’t want to remember any more.

He continued to pace in the silence of his office. Attending the memorial service had been a mistake. He’d suffered the backlash caused by years of refusing to deal with the pain, the guilt. Years of denial. Now he felt as if he was collapsing inward.

He’d never felt so desperate, so out of control.

“Mitch.”

He whirled around. Bethany stood just inside the office, her eyes full of compassion.

“Are you all right?”

He nodded, soundlessly telling her nothing was wrong. Even as he did, he realized he couldn’t sustain the lie. “No,” he said in a choked whisper.

Slowly she advanced into the room. “What is it?”

He shook his head. His throat clogged. He stood defenseless as his control crumpled.

Bethany’s hand fell gently on his arm. He might have been able to resist her comfort if she hadn’t touched him. His body reacted instantly to the physical contact, and he lurched as if her hand had stung him. Only it wasn’t pain he felt, but an incredible sense of release.

“Let me hold you…please,” he said. “I need…I need you.” He didn’t wait for her permission before he brought her into his arms and buried his face in her shoulder. She was soft and warm. Alive. He drew in several lungfuls of air, hoping that would stabilize his erratic heart.

“Everything’s all right,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear. “Don’t worry.”

Her arms were his shelter, his protection. The first time he’d met Bethany, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t become involved with her. Until now he’d steadfastly stuck to that vow.

But he hadn’t counted on needing her—or anyone—this badly. She was his sanity.

He knew he was going to kiss her in the same moment he acknowledged how desperate he’d been for her. With a hoarse groan that came from deep in his throat he surrendered to a need so strong he couldn’t possibly have refused it.

Their lips met, and it was like a burst of spontaneous combustion. He’d waited so long. He needed her so badly. One hand gathering the blond thickness of her unbound hair, he kissed her repeatedly, unable to get enough.

He was afraid his need had shocked her, and he sighed with heartfelt relief when she kissed him back as avidly as he was kissing her.

He moaned, wanting to tell her how sorry he was. But he was unwilling to break the contact, to leave her for even those short seconds.

Bethany coiled her arms tightly about his neck. Again and again he ran his hands down the length of her spine, savoring the feel of this woman in his arms. Their mouths met urgently, frantically. He felt insatiable, and she responded with an intensity that equaled his own.

Mitch broke off the kiss when it became more than he could physically handle. He felt that the passion between them might never burn itself out. At the rate things had progressed, the kiss would quickly have taken them toward something more intimate. Something neither of them was ready to deal with yet.

Bethany gasped in an effort to catch her breath, and she pressed her hand over her heart as though to still its frenzied beat. Her lips were swollen. Mitch raised his finger and stroked the slick smoothness of her mouth.

Slowly he raised his head and studied her.

She blinked, looking confused. Or dazed.

He felt a surge of guilt—and regret. “That should never have happened,” he whispered.

She said nothing.

“I promise you it won’t happen again.”

Her eyes flickered with…anger? Before another second had passed, she’d turned and rushed out of his office.

Matt had found the day long and emotionally exhausting. He’d attended the services for his grandmother and the wake that followed.

His mother mourned deeply, and in his own way Matt did, too. His grief surprised him. Matt had barely known Catherine—Grammy, as Lanni called her. There hadn’t been many visits over the years.

She’d always sent a card with a check for his birthday. Money again at Christmas. A Bible when he graduated from high school and later, she’d established a trust fund for him. This was the money he’d used to buy the lodge from the O’Halloran brothers.

His grandmother had never known how he’d used the money in the trust fund. By the time he was able to collect it this past summer, her health had disintegrated so much she no longer recognized him. Somehow Matt felt she would have condoned his choice. He liked to think she would have, anyway.

The memorial service and wake had gone well. Virtually all the townspeople had offered condolences, and many had inquired about his progress with the lodge.

The people of Hard Luck had been open and friendly since his arrival, but Matt tended to keep to himself. He was too busy getting the lodge ready to socialize much. He didn’t dare stop and think about everything that needed to be done before he posted an Open sign on the front door. The multitude of tasks sometimes overwhelmed him.

Readying the lodge was a considerable chore, but his success
depended on a whole lot more than making sure the rooms were habitable.

He’d have to convince people to make the journey this far north, and he’d have to provide them with activities. Wilderness treks, fishing, dogsledding. If his first order of business was getting the lodge prepared for paying customers, his second was attracting said customers.

He’d do it. Whatever it took, he’d do it. He had something to prove to—

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt.

Karen.

He worked fifteen-hour days for one reason, and that reason was Karen. Just saying her name produced an aching sensation in his heart, an ache that had started the day she’d filed for divorce.

What kind of wife filed for divorce without discussing the subject with her husband first? Okay, so maybe she’d mentioned once or twice that she was unhappy.

Well, dammit, he was unhappy, too!

He’d be the first to admit she had a valid complaint—but only to a point. True, he’d changed careers four times in about that many years. He was a man with an eye to the future, and opportunities abounded. But Karen had accused him of being self-indulgent and irresponsible, unable to settle down. That wasn’t true. He’d always moved on to something new when the challenge was gone, when a job no longer held his interest.

He supposed he could understand her discontent, but he’d never thought she’d actually
leave
him. To be fair, she’d threatened it, but he hadn’t believed her.

If she truly loved him, she would’ve stuck it out.

Matt shook his head. There was no point in reviewing the same issues again. He’d gone over what had led to the divorce a thousand times without solving anything.