Last Bridge Home (2 page)

“If you’ll tell me where things go in the cup board, I’ll put them away for you.” Jon Sandell was standing in the doorway with three bags balanced in his arms.

“I’ll put them away later, just set them on the counter.” She took the plastic bag containing the items that needed refrigeration, and crossed the parquet floor to the Coppertone refrigerator against the wall. “You can get cups and saucers from the cupboard to your left, if you like. Do you use milk or sugar?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.” She put the eggs, milk, and butter into the refrigerator. “I like my coffee black as sin and loaded with caffeine. I’ve been drinking it without caffeine lately because it’s better for the baby, but I still miss the pick-me-up it gave me.” One hand absently rubbed the hollow of her spine as she closed the refrigerator door. “And weighing as much as I do these days, it takes a heck of a lot to pick me u—” She broke off as she turned to face him. “You’re looking at me very oddly. Is something wrong?”

“No.” He looked away as he took two cups and saucers from the cupboard shelf. “I was just thinking how beautiful you are.”

She laughed with genuine amusement. “I’m not even pretty. Lord, you
must
have been out of the country and away from civilization and
women for a long time. Where were you any way? In the wilds of the Sahara? Remind me to introduce you to my neighbor, Serena Spaulding. She’s simply gorgeous.”

She took the coffee carafe and crossed the room to where he was standing. “But thanks anyway for trying to make a fat, pregnant lady feel good.” She poured the steaming liquid into the cups and turned to set the carafe on the warmer. “Take off your coat and sit down.” She shrugged out of her heavy navy peacoat. “I’ll be right back. I have to call Sam and tell him it’s chow time.”

“I wouldn’t think a Great Dane would have to be told.”

“Usually he doesn’t.” Her brow knotted with a frown. “I don’t know why he wasn’t here to meet me. I’ll be right back.”

She returned in less than five minutes, “He didn’t come when I called.” She came slowly toward him, the worried frown still on her face. “Crazy dog. He’s probably out chasing rabbits again.”

Sitting down across from him at the round oak table, she straightened her shoulders as if to shrug off a burden. “Sorry, I seem to be on an anxiety kick lately. I’ve been blaming it on Andrew. He can’t talk back yet.”

“Andrew?”

“My son. It’s a boy. I asked the doctor for
an amniocentesis; it’s a test that detects any genetic or other problems and spins off the fascinating information of the sex of the unborn child.” She looked down at her coffee, her index finger gently rubbing the side of the cup. “After Mark died I needed more than a faceless entity to share my body. I needed to know my baby was all right, as well as a real person, a pompanion.” She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He said nothing else, yet she felt a warmth sweep through her unlike anything she had ever known. For a moment it seemed impossible to tear her gaze away from his. Her throat felt tight and she had difficulty breathing. She picked up her cup and cradled it in her palms. “I think you do. I guess it’s not surprising. Mark was the most understanding man I’ve ever met. It must run in the family.”

“I’m nothing like Mark.” His tone was suddenly harsh. “Don’t make the mistake of drawing comparisons that aren’t there. We were as different as night and day.” His lips twisted. “Inside as well as out.”

What he said was true. Physically there was no resemblance between him and Mark. Jon Sandell was only a few inches taller than her five feet eight and Mark had been well over six feet. Mark also had had golden coloring with
deep blue eyes and a smile as kind as summer rain. He was so incredibly handsome that people had stopped on the street to stare at him in bedazzlement. She had been dazzled herself at first and hadn’t been able to believe it when he started to pursue her with gentle persistence.

There was nothing either gentle or golden about his cousin. Jon Sandell was dark and in tense and composed of hard, sharp angles. She found her gaze drawn to the strong brown column of his throat and allowed it to wander down to catch the faintest glimpse of virile dark hair above the top button of his navy flannel shirt. The dark thatch of hair looked soft, springy, and suddenly, incredibly, she found her palms tingling as if she were actually touching it. The shocking sensation caused her to quickly jerk her gaze away. What had happened to her? For a moment she had felt a burst of sensuality stronger than any she had previously experienced. It was nothing, she told herself. Jon Sandell projected a raw sexuality that would have aroused a response in any woman. It didn’t mean anything. Still, for a moment, along with the sensuality, she had felt a closeness, almost a bonding that was, in many ways, like the empathy she had known with Mark. “Well, I’m sure you’re as kind as
Mark or you wouldn’t be making this courtesy call. I’m really grateful, Mr. Sandell.”

“Jon. I’ve thought of you as Elizabeth for a long time.” He sipped his coffee. “And I’m not kind. I’m here because I want to be.” He paused. “And because I have to be.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Have?”

He nodded. His gaze was fixed on the lead glass windowpane above the sink. “I like your home. How old is it?”

“It’s been in my family for over a hundred and eighty years. I love it too.” She gazed around the large oak-beamed room with affection. “The cottage was a flour mill at one time. My ancestors built it and lived in two little rooms upstairs. It was renovated and expanded when small mills became a thing of the past.” She lifted her coffee cup to her lips. “Mark loved the house, too, thank heavens. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d wanted to move somewhere else.”

“Yes, he told me he loved it. He said it was very restful to lie in bed and listen to the creak of the paddle wheel as it dipped into the stream.” His gaze met her own. “I don’t hear it now.”

“It’s turned off. It was converted to electricity awhile back, and I’m afraid the power to run it is a luxury, now that the stream has turned into a pleasant trickle. You wouldn’t be
able to hear it anyway. These stone walls are over a foot thick and the wheel is on the other side of the house.”

“Outside your bedroom window.” It was a statement, not a question.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Mark must have written you in great detail. I wouldn’t have thought he’d bother to describe the cottage so precisely.”

“He didn’t want to. I insisted. I wanted to know everything.” His gaze flickered to her stomach. “Everything.”

He couldn’t mean … Elizabeth felt the hot color of a flush stain her cheeks, but she realized quickly how foolish she was being. Mark would never have shared the intimate details of their relationship even with his closest friend. She took another sip of coffee. “That’s understandable, I suppose. We always want to know about the people who are close to those we love. What did he tell you about me?”

“Not enough.” He was studying her with moody intensity. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to tell,” she said lightly. “I was a twenty-eight-year-old spinster with a house and a dog and three years to go on my bachelor’s degree in library science, when Mark swept into my life. He came, he saw, he conquered.”

“So I understand.” Once again there was an
inexplicable harshness in his tone. His lids lowered to partially veil his eyes, as he caught the uneasiness of her expression. “You were happy with him?”

“Oh, yes.” Her eyes glowed softly. “He was the kindest, gentlest human being I’ve ever met. We only had six months together before the accident took his life, but they were the happiest I’ve ever known.”

“You didn’t have many men to compare him with. After all, you were practically house bound nursing your father all those years.”

So Mark had told him about her father as well, she realized. “Those were happy years too. I loved my father and wanted to help him. I wasn’t a victim of circumstances, I chose to live my life that way. I’ve never regretted the choice.” A brilliant smile illuminated her face. “And then Mark came into my life, and now the baby. Isn’t it wonderful that when one love is taken away we’re given another to replace it?”

The hard lines of his face softened as he studied her eager expression. “Wonderful,” he echoed quietly.

The odd breathless feeling returned, and her hand trembled as she set her cup down in the saucer. “I’m afraid Mark didn’t tell me very much about you. I didn’t even know you existed
until shortly before he died, and even then he wasn’t very informative.”

“What did he tell you?”

She held up two fingers as she enumerated the facts she knew. “That you worked out of the country. That I would be able to trust you as much as I trusted him.” She held up a third finger, her brown eyes dancing. “And that you weren’t as tough as you seemed. I got the impression you were some kind of mercenary or something.”

“No.” He was silent for a moment. “It was generous of Mark to speak so favorably of me. I don’t think I would have been as generous under the circumstances.”

She frowned in puzzlement. “Generous? Why shouldn’t he—”

“Never mind.” He made an impatient motion with his hand. “It’s not important right now. What’s important is that you trust me as Mark asked you to.” He paused. “I’ve rented a place in the mountains near Saranac Lake. I want you to pack a suitcase and come with me right now. Tonight.”

“W
HAT
—” S
HE BROKE OFF, HER EYES WIDENING
in shock. “You have to be kidding?”

He shook his head. “I don’t find the situation at all amusing. Unless you come with me, I believe you’ll be even less amused.” He leaned forward, the muscles of his shoulders coiled, vibrating with tension. “Gome with me. Trust me. You won’t be sorry.”

“Just like that?” she asked blankly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m almost nine months pregnant. In another three weeks my baby will be born. I’m not about to go on a jaunt into the mountains. I’m only twenty minutes away from a hospital here on the outskirts of Al bany.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you or
your child.” There was absolute certainty both in his voice and in his expression.

She believed him. She had the feeling he’d use every ounce of his strength to keep her safe. The impression was so vivid, she had an almost irresistible impulse to yield to it. She hadn’t been able to lean on anyone in a long time. “Look, I realize you want to help me.” She reached out and covered his hand as it lay on the table. His body went perfectly still. Was he one of those people who disliked being touched? Well, if he was, it was just too bad. She was a very tactile person, and she found it difficult to communicate without touching. She kept her hand where it was. “You came here and saw a widow in a very delicate, awkward position, seemingly alone and vulnerable. You remembered how much you cared for Mark, and now you want to do something to make his wife’s way a little easier.” She met his gaze. “Perhaps you even feel guilty because you weren’t here to lend me support at the funeral.”

“You have it all worked out,” he said, never lifting his gaze from her hand clasping his own.

“It wasn’t all that difficult. I think Mark was right. You’re not as tough as you look.” Her hand tightened on his. “But you have to understand I’m a good deal tougher than I appear, too, and I’m
not
vulnerable or alone.

I have friends, and I have my baby. I’ll be fine.”

“Friends who are two miles away, and a baby who hasn’t arrived on the scene yet. I wouldn’t say your arguments are convincing. I think you’d just better put yourself in my hands.”

She automatically glanced down at the hand she was holding. They were strong hands, capable and sure, hands that would never falter. She gave his hand a final squeeze and released it. “But I can’t do that. I have to take care of myself. We all have to live our own lives.” She made a face. “And I can’t see why you’d want to burden yourself with a woman in my condition so soon after your arrival from abroad. You must have all kinds of things you want to do now that you’re back in the States.”

“You’re wrong. There’s nothing I’d rather do than care for you.”

“Well, it’s out of the question. So forget it.”

“I can’t forget it.” As he lifted his lids, she was struck by the impact of brilliant dark eyes. “Because you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I don’t feel guilty and it’s not family loyalty that’s dictating my desire to keep you safe. It’s simply a necessity. You’re in danger, dammit.”

“Danger?” She gazed at him in disbelief. “What danger could I possibly be in?”

“Lord, now I’ve frightened you,” he growled in profound self-disgust. “I didn’t mean to come out with it so abruptly. I could shock you into labor or something.”

“I’m hardly that fragile,” she said dryly. “Though you did surprise me.” And frightened her, she thought to herself. There had been no doubt of the seriousness of his statement. “Why should—”

“It’s a little complicated to explain. Mark belonged to a group the government is investigating. They may think you belong to the same group, or at least have knowledge of them.”