Judith Stacy (6 page)

A
nother woman. Just what he needed today.

Brandon entered his office and spotted Leona Albright, resplendent in ivory and gold, languishing on the settee across the room.

At least this woman didn’t torment him, unlike the one he’d left at home this morning.

“Brandon, dear, is this some sort of ruse you’re attempting?” Leona asked. “Coming in late? Trying to make people think all sorts of delicious things about your morning activities at home?”

He pushed the door closed and dropped his satchel on his desk. “How is it that the most intimate details of my life have become public knowledge?”

“One only has to look at the scowl on your face, dear, to see what is—or isn’t—going on.”

Brandon turned to her. “Is that why you’re here? To spread more rumors?”

The playful grin disappeared from Leona’s face. “Brandon, you know that I—of all people—would never do that.”

A pang of guilt twisted his gut. Yes, he knew that. And he was ashamed of himself for suggesting it.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “You’ve kept…things…to yourself for over twenty—”

“No reason to count years,” Leona said quickly.

Brandon grinned at her vanity. Like many women, Leona considered the subject of age taboo. But it had, in fact, been over twenty years since Brandon had come to know Leona. He, a child. She, a new bride. It seemed so long ago now. And Europe so far away.

“Come. Sit.” She patted the arm of the chair beside the settee. “We’ll talk.”

Brandon hesitated. Did he need to hear from another woman? Perhaps this one might actually help to make things better. He sat down.

“All right, then,” Leona said, shifting on the settee as if settling in for a long stay. “As I recall, your wife returned only to announce that she wanted a divorce. You convinced her to stay, give the marriage another try.”

Brandon nodded. “That’s correct.”

“So what’s wrong? Isn’t she genuinely trying?”

“No, actually, Jana is trying very hard,” Brandon said. “She’s taken over her duties and responsibilities at the house, just as I’d instructed.”

One of Leona’s eyebrows crept upward. “You
instructed
her?”

“Of course. That’s why she left. I was remiss in my duty as her husband in providing direction.”

“Oh, Brandon, dear…” Leona exhaled heavily and rolled her eyes. “So what is she doing now?”

“Everything I asked. Decorating the house, taking over with the servants, handling our social calendar.”

“And you’re happy with this?”

Brandon’s expression soured. “I’m miserable. She’s turned the whole house, my whole life, upside down.”

A quiet moment passed before Leona spoke again. “It sounds as if your wife is planning to leave again.”

An old familiar pain cut through Brandon causing a little groan to slip through his lips. Then he shook his head.

“No. No, Jana wouldn’t do that,” he insisted. “She has no reason to leave again.”

“Have you given her a reason to
stay?
”

Brandon rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Have you told her that you’re glad she’s home?”

“Well, no…”

“That you love her?”

“She knows I love her,” Brandon said. “I married her, didn’t I?”

“Have you told her you missed her?”

Brandon turned away, the question causing his belly to ache more.

Leona softened her voice. “Did you tell her that you stood by the window and watched for her? That you—”

“No.” Brandon pushed himself out of the chair and
strode to the other side of the room, his back to Leona. She didn’t say anything else. She knew she’d hit her mark.

“Your wife can go anywhere and perform the duties and responsibilities that are expected of her,” Leona said. “Have you given her a reason to stay with you?”

“Damn…” Brandon turned away, pressing his lips together, struggling to hold in his stormy emotions.

“You really want her to stay, don’t you?” Leona asked.

“Of course I do,” Brandon said, a little too harshly.

“Why?”

“Because.” He drew in a breath, struggling for words. “Because I want a—a—”

“A normal life?”

“Yes.”

“A home?”

Brandon turned to face Leona once more. “Yes. A home,” he said, getting the words out with some effort. “That’s why I married her. Jana was the most loving creature I’d ever seen in my entire life. Full of caring and goodness, optimism and happiness. She made me believe love was possible. She embodied everything I’d ever hoped for, ever dreamed of.”

“So why aren’t you trying harder to make things work?” Leona asked.

“I am,” Brandon insisted. “I told you, I’ve given her direction. Explained her duties—”

“Have you forgotten that the sweet, innocent young wife you remember has crossed the Atlantic and the
continent twice? She’s lived abroad, made her own decisions, fended for herself and done so quite capably?”

“Her aunt was there also, helping her.”

“At first, perhaps. But do you think your wife didn’t learn to handle things alone?” Leona proposed. “Has she seemed meek and mild-mannered since her return? Lost and unsure of herself?”

“No,” Brandon said. “Not at all. In fact, she’s rather surprised me by the way she’s grabbed hold of things at home, taken charge.”

“Then she doesn’t need your guidance,” Leona concluded.

“Oh, God… Then she doesn’t really need me for anything, does she?” Brandon crossed the room and collapsed into the chair once more.

“No,” Leona said softly. “She doesn’t
need
you for anything. But, I suspect, she
wants
you—or did at one time. I suspect, also, that she would like you to
need
her.”

Brandon rubbed his forehead, fighting off another tide of rising emotion. “No…”

Leona touched his arm. “You take risks in business every day. You’re going to have to risk your feelings—”

“No.” He pulled his arm away and shook his head.

A moment passed before Leona spoke again. “If you open your heart to Jana, expose your feelings and she still turns you down, wouldn’t you want to know that about her?”

Brandon didn’t answer.

“Wouldn’t you want to take the risk that it might re
kindle her feelings for you? That it might save your marriage?” Leona asked.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Brandon whispered.

“Start by telling her how you feel.”

Brandon’s gaze came up quickly. “Do you think it will make a difference?”

“I think you have to give it a try.”

Leona rose from the settee. Brandon gazed up at her as she spoke again. “If, that is, you truly want your wife to stay.”

Leona left the office.

Brandon remained in the chair, a witches’ brew of emotion churning in him. Usually, he valued Leona’s opinions. She was wise and informed. Little got past her. She’d proved herself a trusted confidante many times.

Dare he hope that this time, in these particular circumstances, she was wrong?

More than anything he wanted to settle back into his comfortable life with Jana. Fourteen months ago, marriage had been easy. Having a wife had been the simplest—and most wonderful thing—in his life. But everything had changed now.

Could Leona be right? Could Jana really be planning to leave him once more?

A quick rap sounded on his office door and Noah Carmichael strode inside.

“Invitation,” he called as he dropped an envelope on Brandon’s desk. “Beth said it’s high time you brought your wife over for supper.”

He turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway and looked back. “Are you all right?”

He considered confiding in Noah, asking for his advice. After all, Noah’s marriage must be working out, since they had a baby on the way.

But Brandon couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Fine,” Brandon replied, trying to put some enthusiasm into his voice so his friend wouldn’t question him further. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Don’t forget to give Jana this invitation. I’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t,” Noah said, then left the office.

Brandon rose from the chair and drew in a heavy breath. He had to admit that there was merit to the things Leona had just told him. And he knew what he had to do, if he wanted Jana to stay.

But could he bring himself to do it?

As plans went, this one was a good one. And it was proceeding perfectly.

Yet Jana wasn’t happy.

Seated at the small writing desk in the sitting room, Jana sorted the stack of invitations into three piles, dealing them with a flick of her wrist as if they were playing cards. Everyone in the city, it seemed, had learned of her return and was anxious to draw her and Brandon into their social circle once more.

Jana eyed the three stacks before her. One held invitations from people she remembered from the early
days of her marriage, people whose company she was certain she and Brandon would enjoy. The next contained invitations from people she doubted Brandon liked. The last, ones she knew he detested.

Glumly, Jana selected the last stack and began writing acceptance letters.

Yes, this plan she’d come up with to cause Brandon to ask her to leave was a good one. But it was starting to wear on her. It went against everything in her heart and in her mind to spend her time, energy and efforts to make someone’s life miserable…even Brandon’s life.

Jana wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it up. It didn’t help that he was being reasonably nice about the whole thing. In fact, it made her feel worse.

Jana’s heart ached a little recalling how distraught Brandon had been these past days over the workmen in the house, the horrendous supper guests she’d invited. She cringed at thinking about the outrageous meals she’d instructed Mrs. Boone to begin cooking this morning.

It took all her strength not to comfort him, at times. She wanted to touch him, caress him. She wanted to make things better for him.

But where would that get her?

Here. In the empty house. With an absent husband. Alone and miserable once more, just as she’d been the first three months of her marriage.

Jana straightened up and attacked the stack of correspondence with renewed fervor, and said a quick prayer
that Brandon would see the futility of trying to continue their marriage and simply let her leave.

A noise from the hallway caught her ear and she looked up to see Brandon walking into the sitting room. Her gaze darted to the mantel clock. He wasn’t due home for hours.

He looked tired, she thought, and wondered if his day had been a difficult one. For a moment, she wanted to go to him, have him sit on the settee beside her, soothe and comfort him.

But Jana held back.

Brandon lingered in the doorway for a moment, then walked slowly into the room. The expression on his face was one Jana hadn’t seen before. She didn’t know what it meant.

Brandon stopped near the desk and gazed down at her, looking troubled and unsure of himself.

“I think it’s time you and I had a talk,” Brandon said. “About the way things have been going around here.”

Jana’s hopes soared. Thank goodness. He was going to tell her to leave.

H
e would ask her to leave.

Jana’s heart rate picked up as she contemplated the look on Brandon’s face and guessed the reason for it. He was about to tell her that he’d been wrong. Their marriage just couldn’t work. He wanted her to leave. Immediately.

A dozen ideas flashed in her mind. Dash out the front door. Ask Abbie to send her things. Rush to the hotel right away, collect her aunt and flee into the night. If they left immediately, they could reach San Francisco by morning. This whole nightmare would be behind her. She’d never have to see this house or Brandon again. Ever.

Ever?

An odd knot twisted Jana’s stomach unexpectedly. Leave? Turn her back, walk away, never to return? Never finish decorating the house? Never learn how Mrs. Boone managed with the new recipes?

Never have Brandon kiss her again as he did outside her bedchamber?

Jana pushed aside those thoughts and mentally grabbed onto the recollections that had driven her from the house in the first place, the situations that still existed—and showed no signs of improving.

She rose from the chair and turned to face Brandon, ready to hear his decision, his edict that would set her free.

“Yes?” she asked, anxious suddenly to get this over with and, in fact, flee into the night.

“I think it would be a good idea if we…talked,” Brandon told her, though he seemed to have a little difficulty getting the words out.

Had he lost his nerve? Now? When he was about to tell her the one thing she most wanted to hear from him?

A thread of anger found its way through Jana’s swirling thoughts. He’d married her and treated her badly. He’d refused to grant her a divorce when she’d asked for it. He’d insisted they try to repair their marriage and had consumed several days of her life, causing her yet more heartache. Jana’s irritation increased.

Yet Brandon still didn’t speak. Instead, he moved away, paced to the settee, then turned back. He opened his mouth to speak, said nothing, then cleared his throat and finally spoke.

“I, ah, I wanted to tell you…”

“What?” Jana asked, a little more harshly than she’d intended.

Brandon seemed not to notice. He slid one hand into his trouser pocket, glanced at the floor, then at her again.

Say it,
she thought. Say the words. Send her on her way.

“I wanted to tell you,” he said, “that I’m very pleased with the way you’ve taken over the house.”

“You’re
what
?”

“Pleased,” Brandon said again. He gestured, encompassing the house around them. “You’ve done a good job of resuming your duties.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve really taken hold of things around here,” he said. “Just as we discussed.”

Jana’s hopes sank. So he wasn’t going to ask her to leave, after all. Yet, for some reason, her stomach began to tingle in a strange new way.

Brandon paced to the side table across the room, then swung to face her. “And…and I wanted to tell you…something else.”

Jana found herself at a complete loss now. She had no idea where this conversation was headed.

Brandon held his position a few yards away, as if needing the distance. He tilted his head right, then left, stretching the muscles of his neck. Jana steeled herself.

“I wanted to tell you,” he said, “that while you were away I…missed you.”

For an instant, Jana just stared. What had he said? That he missed her? Had she heard him correctly? Those words had actually been spoken by Brandon?

“Were you out in the heat too long today?” she asked.

“No,” Brandon said quickly. He shifted his weight, as if wanting to move toward her but not allowing himself to budge from the spot where he’d planted himself. “I…I missed you.”

Jana’s surprise evaporated and in its place sprang a fountain of emotion. “You did?” she asked, taking a step toward him.

He nodded. “I did. And I…I thought of you…often.”

Visions came to life in Jana’s mind, scenes that Abbie had described of Brandon alone in her empty room touching her things, clutching her pillow. Jana’s heart ached at the pain her departure and absence had caused him. She fought the urge to run to him, throw her arms around him.

“And,” Brandon said, drawing in a fresh breath as if warming to his subject. “And I wanted to ask you why…exactly…you left me. I thought I knew the reason, but I decided that perhaps I was wrong.”

“Really?”

“It occurred to me that some of the reasons you left might still trouble you, might keep you from being happy here,” Brandon said. “I decided that I should ask you. I really hope you’ll tell me.”

Yes, of course she’d tell him. Jana’s heart tumbled. She’d open the vault of woes she’d kept locked and tell him, tell him everything, explain how she’d felt, how hurt she’d been, how difficult a decision it had been to leave in the first place. He’d asked—he’d finally asked. After all those months in Europe when she hadn’t heard
a word from him, thought he didn’t possibly care about her, wasn’t interested in her, now he wanted to know
why.
He’d changed. Brandon had actually changed. Things would finally be good between them.

Based on what?

The cold voice of reason stopped Jana in her tracks just as she was about to dash across the room and throw herself into Brandon’s arms.

Had he changed? Really? What evidence was there, aside from this one question he’d just posed?

During their courtship Brandon seemed as if he would be the perfect husband. After the marriage, snuggled in her bed together, he’d been wonderful.

But all along, he’d been someone entirely different. Someone whom Jana didn’t like.

Had he truly changed now? How was that possible? Simply because he’d suddenly given her a compliment, confessed that he’d missed her and asked her for an explanation, did that mean he was different? That things would be different?

Perhaps.

But was it enough on which to base her entire future?

No. No, it wasn’t. And the realization crashed down on Jana as if the very ceiling above her head had collapsed.

“So you want me to tell you why I left?” she asked.

Brandon nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, let’s see,” Jana mused. “There were so many reasons. Where do I start? Chronologically? Alphabetically? Categorically? Randomly? Which would you prefer?”

A guarded look crept over Brandon’s features. “As you please.”

Jana drew herself up, hardening her heart. She knew she sounded sarcastic and insensitive. But if she was ever going to leave this place, she’d have to squelch any hope of a reconciliation. On Brandon’s part, as well as hers.

Because no matter what happened, she couldn’t stay.

“I’m not going to tell you,” she declared.

A few seconds passed, then Brandon’s brows drew together. “You’re not going to tell me?”

“No. I have no desire to explain myself to you.”

“But that’s not fair,” Brandon told her, stepping closer. “You’re using those facts against me—first to leave, and now to harbor ill feelings toward me. Yet you won’t tell me what they are so I can change them.”

His logic was perfect, of course, which only irritated Jana further.

She flung out her hand. “Yes, well, that’s simply the way it is.” Jana headed for the door.

“No.”

Brandon’s voice stopped her. He sounded hurt and outraged and confused. Jana turned and saw that his expression mirrored his tone.

“You said you’d try to make our marriage work,” he told her. “You promised.”

“But it’s
not
working,” she told him. Jana drew herself up, reaching deep inside for another dose of courage. “I want you to release me from my promise, Brandon. I want you to let me leave. Now.”

Brandon shook his head. “No.”

“Surely you can see we can’t save our marriage.”

“I don’t see that at all,” he insisted.

“You can find somebody new.”

“I don’t want to find anybody new.”

“You can love someone else,” Jana told him.

“No,” Brandon said, his expression hardening.

Jana’s shoulders sagged and she sighed heavily. “Brandon, please…”

“There was
something
you liked about our marriage, Jana. There had to be,” Brandon said. “What about the way we used to walk through the garden in the evening? Remember? We’d stroll the grounds and talk about the plants. You liked that, didn’t you?”

“No,” she said and turned her head away.

“Why are you being so coldhearted?” Brandon asked, a genuine question, not an accusation. “Why? Why did you marry me when you…when you didn’t love me?”

Jana reeled as if she’d been slapped. She straightened her shoulders and gazed directly into his eyes.

“I never said I didn’t love you, Brandon.”

She turned and left the room.

“Why can’t I be more like you fellows?”

The two fat ducks offered Brandon no reply to his question as they plied the water, gliding along the lake’s smooth surface. On weekends, Westlake Park teemed with people come to hear the musical perform
ances in the band shell, ride the boats or picnic beneath the trees. But today, Brandon had the place mostly to himself.

Which was for the best, he realized, given that he was attempting to have a conversation with two ducks.

He sat back on the wooden bench near the shoreline and helped himself to a handful of popcorn he’d bought from a vendor. A solitary rowboat took to the water and several children scampered among the trees across the lake. The sky had darkened to a dull gray, yet rain didn’t seem likely. A pleasant day, Brandon decided.

Yet he envied the ducks.

No problems. No troubles. Nothing for them to want, need or desire except food and shelter.

No business to run. No people standing by awaiting decisions.

No wife.

No heart to break.

Brandon sat forward bracing his elbows on his knees and tossed popcorn onto the water. The two ducks quacked and paddled over, scooping it up in their bills.

After last night and his discussion with Jana, he’d gone to his office this morning with the intention of shutting out the whole matter and catching up on several things he’d let slide these past few days. But he couldn’t concentrate, so he had left his office and came to the lake. He liked it here, especially on weekdays when it was quiet. It was a good place to think.

And Brandon had a great deal of thinking to do.

He tossed more popcorn onto the water, a little farther out this time, and it attracted the attention of three other ducks. They honked and swam over.

He supposed he should have been hurt by Jana’s actions last night. Her apparent disregard for his attempt to share his feelings with her, her blatant refusal to tell him why, exactly, she left him in the first place and give him a blueprint, of sorts, on how to improve himself for her should have crushed him. He wasn’t given to displays of emotion. He knew that.

But he wasn’t hurt. Not really. Because Jana had told him, in a roundabout way, that she loved him.

Brandon sat back on the bench feeling considerably lighter today than at any time in the past fourteen months. Jana loved him. Still. After all that had happened, she loved him.

And if she loved him, other problems could be overcome. He’d just have to figure out how.

Since Jana herself was offering no clue, even after his emotional outpouring last night, Brandon would have to uncover the reasons himself.

He sank a little lower on the bench, mentally toying with some possibilities of where their troubles might lie.

Could it have been his lovemaking?

No, of course not. What a preposterous idea. Brandon banished the thought from his mind.

Was he too rigid in his wants? Home by six, only certain meals, specific menus. Seldom any guests. Had he
been too insistent on having things his own way? Ignored what Jana wanted?

She’d never said anything, but she’d been a little timid back then—nothing like the woman who had returned to him from Europe.

Should he have noticed that? What else was right in front of him that he’d not picked up on?

Rising from the bench, Brandon walked to the shoreline and flung the last of the popcorn onto the water. The ducks quacked and honked, swimming quickly and jockeying to scoop up the kernels.

Brandon closed his fist around the bag, giving in to the cold ache that had long lurked in the corners of his heart. His chest tightened with determination.

He wouldn’t let Jana leave. Not again. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t survive it another time. He would find a way to make her stay.

Hardly an impossible situation. Brandon drew in a deep breath willing away the old pain, finding solace in the formulation of a plan, as he always did.

He’d built an empire of railroads, manufacturing, real estate and agriculture with little help from anyone. Surely he could figure out how to make one woman happy.

How hard could it be?