Crimes of the Heart (26 page)

“She always did have a sweet tooth. Why, son?”

The grin that split their son’s face was priceless. He wiggled his eyebrows, saying, “Have we got a bunch of stuff for her and her buddies.”

As his meaning sank in, delight beamed in Jewel. Sean had always been so giving to others. Devon’s roguish chuckle sent a curl of heat to her core. Turning back to him she witnessed the wicked sense of humor dancing in his eyes. “She’s gonna love the chocolate spiders.”

The image of Beatrice giggling like a schoolgirl when Devon presented her with the wide assortment of creepy treats caused Jewel’s heart to expand to overflowing. “I think, my wonderful husband, and equally wonderful son, that the two of you will enjoy it just as much as her.”

Shrugging, Devon said, “What can I say? It must run in the family.”

Gazing into his eyes, she noticed the subtle change deep within him. When had it happened? What had made him shift from the ruthless businessman bent on revenge to the loving, caring family man standing before her now? Or did she misread the lack of vengeance?

Tessa’s dire warnings of last night rushed back now, unnerving Jewel.
Only time will tell if she’s wrong.
Somewhere in her core a pocket of dread opened, spilling its poisonous contents.

Searching his endearing features, she imprinted this moment, the soft smile and love-filled eyes of the man she’d married, in her mind. This was how she’d remember him when she thought back on this time. For surely the years of hatred, plotting, and planning to regain his family’s reputation could never be totally extinguished. Someday, in some way, he’d win.

But at what cost and to whom?

With a shaky hand, Devon twisted the doorknob to the solarium. A fluttery sensation rippled through his middle at the knowledge that after all this time his mother was only a few feet away on the other side. With a great deal of effort he shoved passed the expanding uncertainty and opened the door.

Out of courtesy, he waved Sean and Jewel ahead of him. She halted just inside the door, and then turned to him as he entered. “Would you like to be alone with Bea for a few minutes first?”

The gently asked question and empathy crossing her features brought a tight smile to his lips. How had she known he needed a private meeting, unsure of how much his mother would recall, or even if she’d remember her own son this time? He nodded, too choked up to reply.

“Sean and I will take care of finding the person in charge and get their permission to bring the food in.”

A moment later, he stood alone. Taking a deep, unsteady breath, he scanned the sunny, glassed-in room filled with tall leafy plants, comfortable looking chairs, and several tables where patients played games. The low murmurs of conversations rose as one lady cheered her win in a card game.

Moving further into the room, Devon widened his search. Instantly, he spotted her sitting by herself, staring out the windows into the garden far beyond. His heart jumped in his chest and he had to gulp in several deep breaths of air.

Her once dark hair was now an iron gray tucked up into her usual efficient bun on top of her head. From here, he could only get a glimpse of her profile, but clearly she’d aged drastically. The deeply carved wrinkles in her cheek told a story of a hard, difficult life. Why had she refused his help so many times over the last twelve years? He could have made it so much easier for her.

With each step he took, he closed the long gap of distance and time, the hollow ache behind his ribs filling with unconditional love and concern for the woman who had given birth to him.

Devon found a nearby straight back chair, and then settled it in front of her. The movement must have snapped her out of her trance; she turned to him with a vacant look and a small smile. He sucked in a sharp breath; he realized just how much she’d changed, the years of suffering etched in every line and groove on her once lovely face.

“Hello.” Her voice still held the soft quality he’d remembered.

An invisible hand gripped his heart and squeezed. She didn’t know him. Clearing his throat, he asked, “May I sit with you for awhile?”

She beamed at his request. “Oh, yes, I’d love to have some company. What’s your name?”

A dagger of pain sliced through him. Now seated, he said, “Devon.” He hoped it would jog her memory. But only emptiness resided in her dark eyes.

Slowly, he let his gaze travel over her. From the perfectly groomed look of her, she’d been well cared for here. Her navy blue dress and matching shoes seemed new. As she grasped what appeared to be a picture frame to her bosom, he noticed her neatly, rounded manicured nails. Silently, he thanked Father Tom and Gil for finding this place.

“Who are you?” she asked, dragging him from his survey.

Your son
, he shouted inwardly. To her, he answered, “We knew each other a long time ago.” He stopped himself from elaborating when a frown gathered between her brows.

Gently, he reached for one of her hands. With the trust of a child, she allowed him to hold it. Devon blinked back a well of tears as he touched the thick, hardened skin on her palm and fingers earned from decades of labor.

Smiling sadly, he glanced at her face, and then did a double take. A radiance glowed, bringing color to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes. Suddenly, he saw the woman she’d been: the caring mother, the obliging mistress, and the giving cook. All the questions that he’d wondered about that had gone unanswered for so long rushed to him now. Wonder filled him at the simple truth: Love had guided her every decision, every course of action she’d taken. Just as Jewel had, he realized in stunned wonder, seeing it for the first time as he absorbed the parallels in his and Sean’s lives.

He focused fully on his mother now, his view altered forever. “I’m sorry. So very sorry for everything I put you through.” He paused, and then whispered, “For being born.” He knew she’d never understand. But for him, admitting it was a balm to the hole he’d always carried. In his soul, the heaviness lifted, the long denied forgiveness for the sins of his parents granted to them and to himself for being the byproduct of them.

“Would you like to see my baby?” she asked, holding out the silver frame she’d been clutching to her.

His middle dipped. Could she possibly be talking about him? “I’d like that,” he choked out. When he turned it around, his heart jumped and he had to swipe at the gathering moisture in the corners of his eyes. There he sat at the age of six or seven, grinning from ear to ear, near a pile of dirt playing with his toy cars.

“That’s my baby.” Pride filled her words.

“You remember him?” Devon couldn’t keep the anxious note out of his voice.

Sadness clouded her features and she shook her head. “They tell me, though. They say he was my baby. Did you know my baby?”

“Yes, and I know he loved you very much. He still does,” he barely got the words past the lump in his throat.

She giggled like a schoolgirl, and then slapped her hands on her thighs. Leaning forward, she asked, “Do you know where he is?”

For a long moment, he stared at her, the overwhelming love spreading to every part of his being. “I’m here, Mom.”

Stilling, her eyes opened wide. Recognition flashed in the dark depths. She gasped. “Is that you, son?” Without waiting for a response, she hugged him to her.

Devon welcomed the embrace, inhaling the familiar powder scent. “I love you, Mom,” he whispered hoarsely as he pressed his face into her soft neck.

“I love you more than life itself,” she said the often spoken line of his childhood and youth. This time Devon realized the unshakable truth behind those words; she’d done it all for him, the sacrifices, the heartache, and the injustices she’d endured.

Pulling away, she stared at him. Instantly, he knew she’d gone back in that dark, empty place in her mind. Deep creases formed as she frowned. “Do I know you?”

Stone cold reality doused him. But for one shining moment, she’d remembered him. If that’s all he had for the rest of his life, he’d treasure it. That golden nugget didn’t dull the ache throbbing in his chest at what might have been if he’d stayed, at how many precious moments he could have stored up with his mother. He didn’t know if anything could take the pain away for all he’d lost with his mother or with Jewel.

***

“He’s great with her, isn’t he?” Jewel asked Devon when she’d finished serving the delighted patients the various treats.

Grinning, Devon said, “Yeah. At first I thought it might be too much for Sean, you know, looking so much like me as a kid and having my mom mistake him for me.”

The light touch of her hand on his bare arm was supposed to soothe him, but it only made him aware of how long it had been since he’d held her. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her close, and then pressed a kiss to her temple.

Jewel whispered, “I think he loves it just as much as she does. Look how they’ve got their heads together over his baby book. And have you ever seen such devotion between two people before in your life?”

Swallowing hard, Devon could only shake his head. Obvious joy bathed both Sean and his mother’s features. Coming here today had been an act of necessity to face his past and make peace with it. But bringing these two together had enriched them so much more than either one had ever had been before. Devon sent up a silent thank you to Father Tom for mentioning his mother to him last night, prompting this journey.

Turning to face him, Jewel looked up at him with a soft smile. He gathered her in the circle of his arms, welcoming the feel of her soft body pressed to his. “Happy?”

She nodded. “Well, almost.”

Something kicked him in the gut. Would she tell him about the baby now? Or was there something he’d failed to do?

Her smile widened, taking the edge off of his anxiety. “I’ve got this great idea. You know the guest bedroom across from Sean’s? I can redecorate it for Bea. Oh, I know she’d be too confused if we moved her from here, but how about weekend visits? And I can try to copy the way her room looks here so she won’t be too disoriented with us. And I know she’ll love our cat. What do you think?”

His heart hitched. Tenderly, he brushed the stray hair away from her shining violet eyes. A well of love bubbled up inside of him for this incredibly giving lady he’d had the good fortune of marrying. “I think, Mrs. Marshall, you’re terrific.”

Leaning forward, he captured her lips in a gentle assault, drinking her sweet taste. She melted against him and he had to hold her up. Even as she wound her arms around his neck a doubt flashed in the back of his mind: When would all this be snatched away from him? For he’d never been lucky enough to have an inkling of hope of a future with the woman he loved with everything he possessed inside him.

***

Jewel shifted in the leather chair in Gil Lambert’s richly decorated waiting area. Her sweaty palms clutched her pocketbook. She’d gotten Sean off to school, and then hurriedly dressed, arriving ten minutes before the door opened. Apparently, Gil had been conducting business long before that; he’d been closeted in his office when she walked in. The older, kindly receptionist looked up in sympathy. “I’m sure he’ll be with you in a moment, dear.”

Forcing a tight smile for the sweet lady, Jewel said, “Thank you.” But inside she cursed Gil’s timing. Why had he told her just before he decided to take a three-day weekend? It just made the waiting period more unbearable.

The uppermost question in her mind plagued her once again: What did her mother have to say to her that had sat for nearly two decades? Was it a mother’s last chance to say she loved her daughter? Or was it a wish for her happiness? The more she wondered the more Jewel realized, faced with a death sentence, she’d have done the same for Sean. She pressed her hand to her middle, adding, and this baby.

Suddenly, the metallic turning of Gil’s doorknob caught her attention. A moment later, his tall, lanky frame in his usual rumpled suit filled her vision. “Jewel, so sorry to keep you on tenterhooks. But, I’m afraid working for your husband and juggling his numerous business concerns keeps me busy.”

“Devon?”

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that with this morning’s newest directive to sell the Texas ranch I’ve got my hands full. I really wished he’d have included it with the other two properties weeks ago.”

So that’s who had consumed Gil’s morning and interfered with her time. And that’s why Devon had been holed up in his study since dawn. As Gil guided her into his equally plush office, she mulled over what he’d just let slip, apparently assuming her husband had told her his decision. Devon was selling the ranch, clearly his last link to his adopted state.

A quiver shot through her. Did this mean he no longer had reservations about them or their future? Or had the profound effect of visiting his mother yesterday urged him to be closer to the older woman?

Gil searched the stack of files on his large, cluttered desk. “Ah, here we are.” He snatched up the thick, business-sized envelope and presented it to her.

With a shaky hand, Jewel accepted the yellowed package. A muscle twitched near her lip and she tried to smile it away. But it persisted and she cupped a hand over her mouth.

“Why don’t you stay here and open it. I’ve got to get my secretary to start some action on these papers for Devon, so take your time. And, Jewel, if you need me, I’ll just be across the hall.”

His kindness and his affectionate pat on her shoulder stayed with her long after he’d shut the door behind him. The silence of the big room closed in on her as she clutched the faintly musty envelope to her. Finally, she dropped her purse on the floor and sank into the leather visitor’s chair. With infinite care, she pried the flap open.

By now her trembling hands could barely unfold the several layers of parchment. When she looked, the familiar feminine swirls and curls made her heart squeeze. Only a few lines, a card, and something taped below greeted her. Frowning, Jewel shuffled through the other stiff pages. She found them curiously blank.