Now and Forever (60 page)

"Excuse me," he called out.

She turned around with studied reluctance. "Yes?"

"Don't I know you?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm sure we've met before," he said, walking toward her.

"I don't believe so."

He extended his hand in greeting. "Linc," he said. "Linc Stewart."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stewart," she said, moving away, "but you must have me confused me with somebody else."

"Now, wait," said Linc Stewart. "Don't tell me. I'll remember your name in a second."

"Really, Mr. Stewart," she said, starting for the up escalator, "I'm in a hurry. I'm sure I'd remember if we'd met."

"Kitty...Katie...Katharine! That's it. Katharine Morgan."

The shock of hearing her name on his lips made sent the blood rushing from her head and she feared would pass out at his feet.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice deep with concern. "Let me get you some water."

"I'm fine. It's just--" She searched frantically for a workable lie. "I'm pregnant and I tend to get dizzy at the drop of a hat. John - my husband - told me to slow down but you know how it is...." She favored him with the most dazzling smile at her command. "I'm afraid I'm not your friend Katharine Morgan," she said easily. "Sorry."

He considered her for a moment while her life passed before her eyes. "No," he said, "I guess you're not, but let me tell you, you could be her twin."

"I must go," she said, stepping onto the escalator. "It's been lovely talking with you."

She didn't draw a deep breath again until she was safely behind the wheel of her car and back on the highway headed for home. The odds against bumping into someone who knew her from her old life must be a million-to-one. Whoever this Linc Stewart was, he couldn't have been an important part of either her or Bryant's daily existence. And she hadn't been an important part of his. It was one of those random meetings that made for three minutes of conversation over dinner and then were forgotten about.

"That's what you should do," she told herself as she turned up the road that led to her estate. "Forget about him." It was a fluke, one of those bizarre occurrences that happen every now and again and amount to nothing. Bryant had been on parole for over six months now and there hadn't been so much as a whisper of trouble. He was somewhere in California and, please God and the judicial system, destined to stay there.

She longed to see Andrew, to feel his arms around her, to push the whole strange incident from her mind. She left the car at the top of the driveway then ran into the garage. Andrew wasn't there. She turned to leave but that damn balloon stared at her from the corner. Then the flutter of torn papers on the ground caught her eye.

It was obvious Andrew hadn't looked at them. Shannon, however, found herself compelled to gather them up and see what was important enough for Dakota to photocopy and press into Andrew's hands when she knew how Shannon felt. She brushed off some dirt and flipped through the half-pages. Much of the information was boring detail about the Blakelee farm, the crops they'd grown, the dimensions of the original house. But buried in that minutiae was a paragraph that made her blood run cold.

She stuffed the torn pages into her purse then ran outside. She didn't see Andrew anywhere. She tore around the side of the garage toward the backyard. He wasn't there either.

"Andrew!" Her voice sounded shaky, not at all like herself. "Andrew, where are you?"

"Here, lass."

She spun around.

"Look up."

He was perched on the top rung of the ladder, working on the roof of the sunroom.

"Oh, Andrew...." With that she burst into tears.

 
#

He had never seen her cry before. The sight tore at his gut and he jumped the ten feet to the ground, landing hard, then raced to her side.

"Shannon, lass..." he murmured, gathering her into his arms. "There now...don't cry...."

"I never cry," she said, sniffling as she struggled to regain her control. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"'Tis nothing unnatural. Crying soothes the soul."

"M-my soul doesn't need soothing."

"Something caused this, lass. Tell me what it is."

"I don't know." She buried her face against his shoulder. "Nothing...everything." She looked up at him, face streaked with tears. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"None at all," he said, holding her close. He pulled away slightly so that he could look deep into her eyes.

"I couldn't find you, Andrew," she said after a moment. "You weren't in the garage, then I didn't see you in the yard - I don't know what came over me. I thought you'd gone away."

"Where would I go, lass, when I have all I could ask for here in my arms."

She reached up and took his face in her hands. "We don't have to stay here, Andrew. There's a whole big world out there for you to learn about and we can go and see it all."

"You have a life here," he said, uncertain where this was leading. There was an edge to her voice, a touch of something akin to desperation. "People who rely upon you."

"The foundation runs itself. I signed the papers the other day. I could run off to Borneo and live on coconuts and the foundation would be just fine." Her eyes flashed with a fire unlike any he had seen before. "Anything I do for them is extra, more for me than for anyone else. By this time next week there will be a twenty-four hour a day staff to keep things running."

"You sound unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy. I'm glad things are going well. Don't you see? I'm rich, Andrew! I have enough money to take us anywhere we want to go. We won't live long enough to spend all the money. I'll take you on a jet plane, in a helicopter, on the Concorde, buy you a car--"

"Enough!" His tone was harsh but that could not be helped. "What in bloody hell has brought this about, Shannon? I am not a man who takes from a woman. I make my own way in this world."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," she said, brushing away his words. "First you have to experience this world before you can make your way in it. And trust me, Andrew, there's more to the world than this little spot in central New Jersey."

"We will see the world when I can afford that privilege."

"I can afford it now, Andrew. Why should we wait?"

"I am an educated man. I will find a way to secure a living in your world."

"Oh, God, Andrew...you just don't understand. You have no identification, no birth certificate, no resume, no driver's license. For all practical purposes, you don't even exist."

"In my time a man's presence was enough to prove his existence."

"Life is more complicated now."

"There are records of my birth and marriage in Boston."

"I'm sure there are," said Shannon with a sigh, "but they're from the 18th century. We're going to have to get you some fake identification and soon."

"That can be done?"

"Yes," she said, "but it will take me some time to ask around and find out where we can do it."

"It was done for you," he pointed out, "when you created this new life for yourself."

"I had some help," she reminded him. "I had the government behind me."

"We will ask the government to help me."

"It doesn't work that way, Andrew."

"The government is in contact with you, to see that you are safe."

"Actually nobody is in contact with me. The government created my new identity and then they bowed out."

"Did the government provide your wealth?"

She shook her head.
 
"The wealth was mine. My trust fund came through when I turned twenty-one."

"So what you are saying is that although I exist, I do not really exist until I have papers to prove that existence."

"Well yes," Shannon said. "I suppose I am. But don't you see? None of that really matters. I'll buy you some papers some place, you'll get a passport, then we're off to see the world."

"When I am able to pay for the experience."

"We'll talk about that," Shannon said, her jaw set in a stubborn line.

"Aye," said Andrew. "We will talk about that."

Shannon brightened. "The masked ball on Saturday night! Why didn't I think of it before? You'll meet every important person in the state. We're bound to connect with someone who can help us."

"You put great store in an evening of entertainment."

"Oh, the ball is a lot of things, Andrew, but entertainment isn't one of them. Charity events are work, same as going to the office."

"And you believe some profit might be gained from attending?"

"I can almost guarantee it."

And because she was so beautiful and so kind - and because he was so much in love with her - Andrew almost believed it.

 
#

Four women from the shelter sat on the grass Friday morning and looked up at Andrew as he painted the front door of the cottage. Shannon was sitting on the step next to him, just out of reach of his paintbrush. They had brought the women together to outline their plans for the mini Outward Bound camping trip and so far the response had been less than overwhelming.

"I don't know about any of you," said Pat, "but I'm not letting my kids spend the night in the woods unless I'm with them."

"Wouldn't catch me in the woods in the middle of the night," said her mother Terri, shuddering. "Too many creepy-crawly things all over the place."

Derek's mother Rita laughed. "That's the point, isn't it? Getting used to bugs and strange animals and no bathrooms." She looked at Shannon. "I've heard about this kind of thing. It's a confidence builder, right?"

"Exactly. It's been used by breast cancer patients, business executives--" Shannon gestured toward the women "--people like you and me."

"You?" said Pat with a short laugh. "I know you said you went through it too but--" She gestured toward the house and the estate grounds. "Kinda hard to figure what your problem was. If I had your money, I'd have left a long time ago."

"It's not always a question of money," Shannon said, not wanting to minimize the importance of being financially secure. "Yes, I had money but I didn't have something else that was a lot more important."

"Keys to the safe deposit box?" Pat asked.

"Guts," said Shannon. "And self-respect. If you don't have those two things, you don't have anything at all."

"And you think a night in the woods will give us guts and self-respect?" Pat asked with obvious skepticism.

"I think it's a good place to start."

There was a long silence. Shannon wondered if she'd gone too far and alienated the lot of them but they needed to hear the truth.

"I don't know about the rest of you," said Rita breaking the silence, "but I could use a night out. Count my kids and me in, Shannon."

"Not me," said Terri. "I'm going to stay in and watch a movie."

Pat looked at her mother then at Shannon. "I'll go, but if I see one spider I'm out of there."

"And your kids?" Shannon asked.

"They love spiders." Pat smiled for the first time in days and Shannon felt a burst of elation.

"My kids are older than yours," said Sara, "but if we're still here Sunday, I'll try to convince them to tag along."

The women joked among themselves about the problems inherent in trying to convince teenagers to do anything at all.

Shannon looked up at Andrew. "Looks like we'll have our work cut out for us."

"Aye," he said, "we will at that."

Their eyes met and held and for a moment she remembered another man, other promises, and she thanked God for bringing Andrew McVie into her life.

Chapter Twenty-One

"You look magnificent," said Shannon on Saturday night as she gave a final adjustment to the cloth about his neck. "I look the fool." Andrew grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. "No man, save a Virginia plantation owner, should wear so many ornaments upon his person."