Emily and the Stranger (18 page)

"He lost everything." Emily crossed her arms at her waist, gripping her elbows, hugging herself. She closed her eyes. "Mitch lost everything, too."

"Randy Styles ran off with as much money as he could liquidate in a hurry, and Loni, who was Mitch's fiancée by that time, ran off with Styles. Then Mitch had to go to court and face the lawsuits and face the people who'd been injured when Ocean Breeze collapsed. After the trial, Styles and Hayden Construction Company was bankrupt and no one would give Mitch a job."

Zed stood and rounded the table, then reached down and took Emily's hands. "Yeah, just like you, Mitch lost everything. And he's spent five years punishing himself for what happened. He had become a homeless bum when I found him and persuaded him to come back to the Gulf."

One lone tear cascaded down Emily's face, falling onto Zed's hand. He looked at her. She nodded her head.

"If you can ever find it in your heart to forgive him, he'll finally be able to forgive himself." Zed released Emily's hands. "Think about what I've told you."

"Nikki will see you out," Emily said.

"No, I'll see myself out."

Neither Emily nor Nikki said a word until they heard the front door close, then Emily stood up and walked out onto the back section of the porch. Nikki followed.

"What are you going to do?" Nikki asked.

"I'm going to go on living, the way I have for the past five years. One day at a time."

"What about Mitch?"

"I'm not ready to see him or talk to him. Right now, it hurts too much just to think about him. About us."

* * *

At sunset, Mitch Hayden drove his Harley up the driveway of his rented cottage. After dismounting and removing his helmet, he turned to stare at the house next door. More than anything he wanted to see Emily, to hold her in his arms and beg her to forgive him. But he didn't dare go to her. After everything he'd done to her, he had no right to ask for her forgiveness, let alone for her friendship or her love.

Chapter 10

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M
itch stood on the beach, not looking out at the bay, but at Emily Jordan sitting alone on her porch, a huge straw hat on her head and a sketch pad in her hand. They were back where they had started—as strangers, watching each other from afar. He wanted to go to her, to tell her how sorry he was for everything she had suffered, but he wasn't sure he had the courage. Days had passed, turning into a week, and still he waited.

Nikki was staying at the cottage with Emily. He saw the two of them coming home in the evenings together, saw them taking long walks on the beach and often sitting on the porch until dark.

He'd found out from Zed, who'd taken a personal interest in the situation, that Emily's secret admirer hadn't made any more phone calls or sent any more "love" letters. That could mean anything, couldn't it? Maybe Emily's admirer had gotten one of the things he'd wanted—for Emily to stop seeing Mitch Hayden. But the thing he wanted most, he still didn't have—Emily herself. So why no more phone calls, no more letters?

The police had questioned Mitch—twice. He was sure Fowler Jordan had implied that he was the man they sought. Maybe Jordan truly believed he posed a threat to Emily. Mitch was afraid that if the police concentrated all their attention on him, the real stalker might remain free. Free to break into Emily's home again. Free to attack her.

Out there somewhere was the real culprit. Zed had warned Mitch to keep a close eye on Emily's cottage. Whoever was responsible for the break-in might try again, when Emily and Nikki were at home.

But Mitch needed more than to guard her at a distance. He needed to talk to Emily, even if she never forgave him. He needed to tell her his side of the story, to explain that he hadn't realized until it was too late what his business partner was doing. He wanted Emily to know that he had spent the last five years in a guilt-induced hell.

But would she talk to him? Would she even let him near her?

* * *

"He's coming this way," Nikki said, shading her eyes with her hand. "I'm going inside to fix some iced tea."

"No, Nikki, don't go. Don't leave me alone with him." Emily clutched the charcoal pencil in her hand.

"It's taken him a week to build up enough courage to come over and talk to you. You've been waiting for this. You want to hear what he has to say, and neither of you need me around when he says it."

"Yes, I know. It's just that I don't know if I have the courage to see him." Emily laid down her sketch pad and pencil on the wicker table, placed her hands in her lap and waited for Mitch. Nikki hurried along the porch toward the back of the house.

She sat quietly, listening to the waves roll into shore, listening to the soft wind blowing and to the sound of her own heartbeat drumming in her ears. What would he say to her? How would she respond? She had long since made her peace with the hatred she'd felt for the unknown man, M. R. Hayden, but there was no peace between her and Mitch. There never could be as long as they didn't talk to each other.

Mitch put his foot on the bottom step, looked up at Emily and waited for some sign from her. She stared at him, her brown eyes filled with sadness.

"May I—"

"Yes," she said.

He couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been so nervous, so damned scared he'd say or do the wrong thing. This was his one and possibly only chance to make things right with Emily, to plead his case and beg her forgiveness.

Mitch took the steps two at a time, then halted abruptly at the edge of the porch. "How have you been? Zed told me that the letters and phone calls have stopped."

"For now," Emily said.

"I'm glad Nikki is staying with you."

"I know you've been keeping an eye on us, and that Mr. Banning is doing what he can to help, as a favor to you. He—he even offered to hire a bodyguard for me, but I think that's going a bit too far, don't you?" She couldn't bring herself to look directly at Mitch; instead she stared at his feet.

Mitch couldn't stop staring at Emily, at her downcast eyes, at her soft, pink lips, at the fall of dark hair curling out from underneath the straw hat. "If things escalate … if this guy becomes violent again … a bodyguard might not be a bad idea."

"If things worsen, I'll probably move back to
Mobile
." Emily wrung her hands. "I was always safe when I lived with Uncle Fowler. He protected me from the world. But I wanted to start living again, to get out on my own." She laughed, the sound a mockery of the real thing. "Just look what's happened to me."

Mitch hadn't been overly impressed with Fowler Jordan upon his brief meeting with him, but he didn't doubt the man's devotion to Emily. Stuart Jordan's uncle had devoted the past five years of his life to Emily. But maybe during those five years, he'd become too accustomed to running Emily's life.

"You still don't have any idea who is harassing you and why?" Mitch asked.

"Do you know that since last Sunday morning, all sorts of crazy thoughts have gone through my mind."

When Mitch took a tentative step toward Emily, she glanced away from him, turning her head slightly to gaze out at the bay. "I've wondered if it's possible that Uncle Fowler is right about you. That you really are my tormentor."

"You can't honestly think I'd—"

"Yes, the thought did cross my mind."

"Emily, for crissakes, I would never do anything to hurt you. I would never—"

"No, you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. Nothing except kill my husband and child and…" Emily scooted her chair away from the wicker table, intending to stand up and run into the house. She couldn't do this. She couldn't have this conversation with Mitch. Despite what she'd thought, she wasn't ready. "I'm sorry. I know what happened with the Ocean Breeze Apartments wasn't your fault."

Mitch touched her. She froze to the spot. Reaching out, he grasped her shoulders in a gentle yet firm hold. "I'd lie down and die for you right here and now if it would change anything. If I could give you back your life, I'd do it."

Emily refused to look at him. She hung her head, avoiding any eye contact. "Please, let me go. I know … I understand that you were duped by your partner, that you were taken in by some woman."

Noting the jealousy in Emily's voice, Mitch rejoiced inwardly, realizing that Emily had to still care about him to be jealous. He willed himself not to smile about this one small reason to hope.

"Her name was Loni. She was blond and sexy and … and I didn't really love her. Not the right way. I was young and stupid and acted like a damned dog running around after a bitch in heat." Mitch gave Emily a gentle shake. "I made so many mistakes, honey, but I've paid dearly for them, and I'm still paying. Nothing has ever hurt me the way seeing you in so much pain does."

She swallowed her tears. She would not let him see her cry again. "I don't hate you, Mitch. I came to terms with what happened to Stuart and our baby a long time ago … but I can't forget. I'll never be able to forget." She pulled away from him. "You see, I have scars on my back that will be a reminder to me for as long as I live."

"Emily?" Mitch clasped her chin in his hand, tilting her head upward until she looked him directly in the eye. "I thought that if you could forgive me, it would be enough, but it's not. I want more. I want you to let me try to make things right. I don't know how, but I need to do something, anything to help you."

She saw the truth of his words in his ice-blue eyes, the sincerity of his plea. "Remember what you told me about pity? Well, I don't want your pity. Not now or ever."

"It's not pity, Emily. I care about you. I care so much it hurts. Please, help me find a way to—"

"Do you really want to do something for me?"

"Anything."

"Then go away, Mitch. Go away and leave me alone. There is no place for you in my life. I—I've decided that I … I'm probably going to start seeing Charles again. He's very fond of me … and…" When Mitch glared at her, anger glimmering in his eyes, Emily jerked her chin out of his grasp, turned quickly and walked away.

"Emily?"

She stopped just before rounding the corner of the porch, but she didn't look back at him. "Yes?"

"They don't matter to me, you know. The scars on your back. If you had allowed me to see them, I would have told you how beautiful you are. And you are beautiful to me. All of you."

"Goodbye, Mitch."

He stood on the porch for several minutes after she walked from the side porch to the back of the house and went into the kitchen. "This isn't goodbye, pretty lady," Mitch whispered. "I couldn't leave you now, even if I wanted to."

* * *

There wasn't a damned thing Mitch could do about Emily's decision to date Charles Tolbert again. Nothing except let the anger inside him fester, growing like a rotting sore. He couldn't help thinking of Emily as his. If that made him a fool, then he was a fool. If he believed Tolbert could make Emily happy, it might make letting her go a little easier. But as long as Emily wanted him, then she couldn't find happiness with anyone else. And he knew she wanted him.

So, for the time being Mitch had to stand by, doing what little he could. He watched Emily's house at night, listening for any signs of an intruder. Sometimes, in the early-morning hours, he'd stand outside her bedroom window, at a discreet distance, and remember when he'd held her in his arms all night long.

But since the night of the break-in at Emily's house, there had been no more letters or phone calls. Could that mean Tolbert had been her secret admirer, the one who had warned her to stop dating Mitch, and now he had what he wanted? Or was this mystery man simply playing a waiting game? Hopefully, Emily would be safe for the time being. Safe in another man's arms!

Seeking freedom from his pain, Mitch got on his Harley, accelerated quickly and raced up the highway. He'd come a long way down from the top of the world where he'd been five years ago. He'd sunk pretty low by the time Zed found him in
Arkansas
, but he'd worked hard the last few months to put his life back together. Emily had given him a reason to care again. She'd given him hope.

Some of the guys at the construction site had told him about
a
rough and rowdy nightspot where the music was loud, the beer cheap and the women available. He wasn't interested in another woman—only Emily. But he sure as hell could use a few beers and enough noisy distraction to dull his senses for a couple of hours.

Mitch parked his motorcycle in the parking lot, hung his helmet on the seat and headed toward the Blue Lagoon. By the sound of the upbeat country music he heard, once he got inside he wouldn't be able to hear himself think.

A smoky haze permeated the crowded room. A small band blasted out an instrumental hit. Mitch made his way to the bar, ordered a beer and ignored the blonde who was giving him the eye.

"Want some company, sweetie?" She sat down on the empty stool beside Mitch.

"No."

"What's the matter—your girl leave you for another guy?"

Mitch jerked around, staring at the woman as if she were a gypsy fortune teller.