Always (11 page)

“You have all the facts down accurately,” she said, her voice brittle. “You don’t need me to tell you anything.”

“Yes, I do. I need you to tell me about Tommy. What did he look like? Was he blond like Baldwin?”

“No, he had brown hair, acorn brown. What difference does it make?”

“Brown eyes?”

“No, they were hazel.” Her voice was a mere whisper. “Please, don’t do this to me, Clancy.”

“What was his favorite color? Most children like red.”

“He loved yellow. Bright yellow. For his fifth
birthday I arranged a party at his nursery school, and he wanted all the balloons to be yellow.”

“Was he a quiet child?”

“Sometimes. When he was tired, he’d bring his favorite book and curl up next to me in the same chair.” She seemed to be struggling to get the words out. “He’d lean his head against me and not say a word until I’d finished. Though most of the time he’d fall asleep before I got halfway through.”

“Did he have a favorite toy he slept with?”

“Bruiser. It was a tattered old panda bear with one black eye. I told Tommy he looked like a punch-drunk fighter. It got so worn I tried to get him to accept a replacement, but he loved it so.…”

“What happened to Bruiser, Lisa?”

She didn’t answer. Her spine was arched with unbearable tension as if she were being stretched on the rack.

“Tell me, Lisa.”

“He’s with Tommy.” Her voice was so faint he could hardly catch it. “I wanted him to have
something he loved with him. Bruiser is with Tommy.”

Oh, God, he couldn’t keep this up. Why wouldn’t she break? “What did Tommy look like when he smiled?”

“He had a dimple in his left cheek and he’d just lost his front tooth. I was planning on having his yearly picture taken, and I told him he’d look as ragtag as Bruiser. He laughed and—” She whirled to face him. Tears were running down her cheeks and her eyes were wild with grief. “But I never had that picture taken. He died, Clancy. He
died
!” Her slender body was suddenly racked with sobs. “It wasn’t fair. Tommy was so good. He didn’t deserve to have that happen to him.”

Clancy crossed the room in three strides, and gathered her in his arms. His hands cradled the back of her head, pressing her face into his chest in an agony of tenderness. “I know, acushla. I know.”

“He was a miracle.” Her voice was muffled, but the words flowed on. It was as if once started, they were impossible to halt. “A
miracle. I hadn’t done anything to deserve him. I’d always been a little selfish and thoughtless, yet I was given Tommy. He was so sweet and affectionate. And smart. He was very bright for his age. All his teachers said so.” Her hands clenched his shirt front, wrinkling it. “I
loved
him so, Clancy.”

He could feel his throat tighten painfully. “The dreams. What are the dreams about, Lisa?”

“Tommy. They’re always about Tommy, and they’re all the same. It’s late at night and I’m at home. I’m happy. I even hum a little as I climb the stairs. I have to tuck Tommy in for the night, and I always love doing that. He’s always so clean and sweet after his bath. Then I open the door and Tommy’s not in his room. I don’t understand and I walk into the room and go across to his bed. The bed is very neat and cold and perfectly made up, with not a wrinkle in the bedspread. And I look down at it and I know that it’s going to stay that way. That Tommy’s never going to be there again.
That I’m never going to tuck him in, or kiss him good night, or hold him.…”

He rocked her, pain exploding inside him. God, what must it be like for her? “I think I would have murdered Baldwin myself, if I were you,” he said huskily.

“I thought he felt the same way I did. He never seemed very affectionate toward Tommy, but after we separated he appeared to change. He’d take Tommy out for the day to amusement parks and the zoo. After the accident he seemed so …” She paused. “Broken. And he was so concerned when I was ill.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“He would have realized that his only chance with you was to fake the same bereavement you were feeling,” Clancy said grimly. “He didn’t sound any too guilt-stricken this afternoon.”

“No, he didn’t.” She couldn’t seem to stop the tears from running down her cheeks, but the sobs had begun to subside. “I don’t understand it. I don’t understand
him.”

“Well, I do,” Clancy said. “I understand the
bastard very well.” Suddenly he picked her up and carried her across the room toward the chair. “But I have no intention of talking about Baldwin now.” He sat down on the chair and cradled her on his lap. His hand stroked the fine hair at her temple with gentle fingertips. “That’s not what you want to talk about now, either, is it?”

“No.” She nestled her cheek closer. “That’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Tommy?”

“Yes.” Incredibly, after all these years, she did want to talk about Tommy. It was as if a festering sore had been lanced and must now be purged.

“Then tell me.” His arms tightened lovingly about her. “Tell me all about Tommy. Make me know him, Lisa.”

And she did. Once she started, the words refused to stop. She lay there in his arms, her voice almost dreamlike as she rebuilt a world that she’d thought she had lost forever. It was not without pain. The tears flowed and ceased and flowed again as hours passed and pictures
of the past flickered, became real, and then faded once again.

Clancy was silent, listening, and only his hand moved as he gently stroked her temple.

Finally the words ceased and Lisa was also silent. She lay curled against him like a weary child, drained, empty, but curiously at peace. She didn’t know if it was fifteen minutes or an hour later when she broke that silence by whispering, “Thank you.”

His arms tightened around her. “Don’t thank me. Tommy is a part of you, and you shared him with me. You were the one giving gifts.” He paused. “Is it better now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Another silence. “There isn’t any way I can justify what happened to Tommy. I don’t intend to, acushla. I can only share something I’ve learned over the years.” His voice was unsteady. “I’ve lost quite a few people I’ve cared about. I’ve led a violent life, and I suppose it was inevitable. It never makes any sense, but it happens. When someone is taken from me, I try to use that grief.”

“Use
it?”

He nodded. “After I’ve accepted it, I try to channel all the memories and the love and let it flow to someone else. I guess it sounds a little strange, but I feel if I give enough of myself, enough of what I’ve been given by the one I’ve lost, somehow some part of that person will still survive. I don’t have any real family anymore, but I have my friends in Sedikhan. Every time something happens, I give them more love, more protection, more caring.” He grimaced. “By this time, all of them should be pretty well weighed down with it. Sort of weird, huh?”

“No, not weird at all,” she whispered. “Beautiful.”

“Well, it helps me, anyway. You might try it.” He dropped a feather-light kiss on the top of her head. “Now I think I’d better let you get some sleep. You’re exhausted.” He stood up with her still in his arms and carried her over to the bed. He didn’t bother to try to undress her, but settled her on the pillows and pulled the sheet over her.

“You’re leaving?” She didn’t want him to go. Something had happened in this room tonight. Intimacy had been established; bonds had been forged. In a strange way, she felt that if she had given him Tommy, she had also given a portion of herself. As for what he had given her … it could never be measured.

Clancy shook his head. “I’ll stay right here.” He turned out the lamp, then lay down on the bed beside her and took her in his arms. “I don’t think the dreams will come, but I’ll be right here to stop them if they do.”

She didn’t think they would come, either. He had given her so much; she should really send him away. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be all right now.”

His lips brushed the delicate skin at her temple. “Go to sleep,” he said. “I want to stay.”

She sighed contentedly and nestled against his hard strength. So hard, so strong, yet with a core of sensitivity and simple beauty that had shaken her profoundly. She was too tired to think of his words right now, but she knew she would soon and that they would bring her
comfort. Giving. That’s what he had said. Memories that constantly enriched, giving love and beauty to someone else, forming a chain that would last forever.…

Lisa’s breathing grew deep and even. She lay curved against him with the confiding trust of a little child. Thank heaven she’d fallen asleep so easily. Clancy knew he had taken a big risk tonight. There’d been a possibility that his instincts were wrong, that bringing the tragedy into the open would have done more harm than good. There had also been the chance that even if she’d recognized the necessity of his action, she’d have hated him for the pain he had caused. Neither of those things had happened, thank God.

He stroked her hair, staring absently into the darkness. Lisa was so alone, he reflected. He had tried to comfort her with his own philosophy, but he realized it might not apply in her case. Her dossier had stated that she had no close friends or relatives. Her parents were dead. Very possibly it was her isolation that kept her grief so raw and painful and caused
her to turn inward and dwell on her loss. There had to be some way for him to help her conquer that isolation.

Clancy could feel the weariness dragging at him, and he steeled himself against it. He was almost as emotionally exhausted as Lisa, but he couldn’t give in to it. Tonight he had stripped away the protective barrier against pain that she had built so carefully. By the time she awoke he had to be ready to give her something to replace it. He settled her slender body more closely against his own with instinctive protectiveness and tried to concentrate his thoughts on what that elusive something would be.

It was still dark when Lisa awoke, and she was immediately conscious that Clancy was no longer beside her. It didn’t alarm her. He had promised he would stay with her, and he wouldn’t leave her. She didn’t even question that instinctive and complete trust. It was just there. She sat up and brushed a tendril of hair away from her face. “Clancy?”

He was standing by the French doors. She could see the glimmer of his white shirt in the darkness. Then she saw the glimmer move and knew that he had turned to face her. “I’m right here. Everything’s fine.”

She knew that; she was experiencing a sense of peace and serenity she hadn’t known for a long time. “Didn’t you sleep at all?”

He came toward her. “I wasn’t tired. Besides, I had some thinking to do. How do you feel?”

“Good,” she said softly. “And very grateful. What time is it?”

“A little after three in the morning. Would you like to go back to sleep, or do you think you could eat something? You haven’t had anything since breakfast yesterday.”

“You and Galbraith are certainly concerned about my eating habits,” she commented. “Perhaps I should furnish you with a few statistics documenting that thin is healthy.” She shrugged. “I suppose I could eat something. I’m certainly too wide awake to go back to sleep.” She threw aside the sheet. “But first I want to shower. I feel terribly slept in.”

“All right.” He flipped on the lamp by the bedside table. “I’ll make an omelet for you while you shower.”

“Fine.” She hopped out of bed and crossed to the bureau. Pulling out underthings, slacks, and a loose green tunic blouse, she headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

But when she came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Clancy was still in the bedroom. He had flung the French doors wide and stood in the doorway looking out into the courtyard.

“Clancy?” She walked slowly toward him. “Is there something wrong?”

“No.” He turned and gave her a reassuring smile. “I just thought we’d talk first. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes, of course.” There was something about Clancy’s demeanor that made her uneasy. “What is it?”

“I’ve been doing some thinking tonight.” He took her hand and drew her out into the courtyard, where the heavy scent of honeysuckle and
hibiscus drifted on the soft tropic air. “I’ve gone over everything time after time, but I can’t come up with any other solution. I want you to know I’m not thinking of myself, though it will give me something I want, too. I honestly believe this is what you need.”

“Clancy, I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about,” she said. The lamplight from the bedroom was streaming through the open French doors, and she could see that Clancy’s features were set and a bit grim. She laughed a little shakily. “For a man who’s usually so blunt, you’re certainly beating around the bush, Clancy.”

“That’s because I’m scared as hell.” His hands cupped her shoulders and he pushed her down on the rim of the mosaic fountain. “I don’t know how you’re going to take this.”

“Take what?”

He drew a deep breath. “Do you believe I love you?”

A shock ran through her, and she hesitated. “I believe you think you do,” she said slowly.

“Do you trust me?”

She didn’t have to think about that. “Yes.”

Suddenly he was on his knees beside her, gathering her hands in his. “You should trust me. I’d never do anything to hurt you. Do you remember what I told you about the way I sublimate the pain of loss?”

“Yes,” she said, and her hands tightened on his. “I remember.”

“But you don’t have anyone to turn to and channel that pain, Lisa. You don’t have anyone you really love.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That you need
someone.”
He glanced up, his expression gravely intent. “I’m saying that I’d like very much to give you a child.”

She inhaled sharply. “A child!”

“I’m not suggesting that Tommy could ever be replaced. Every human being is unique and irreplaceable, and what you feel for Tommy is beautiful and special. But you still need someone else to love.” He smiled a little crookedly. “I’m selfish enough to wish it could be me, but that’s not in the cards. At least not yet. But the need still exists, and I know you’d love your
own child.” He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. “Please. Let me give you that child.”