So Much Trouble When She Walked In (10 page)

He
gave up on that idea real fast.  And he gave up on the idea of ever seeing
Silken again.  At least, that was what he’d told himself three weeks ago.  But
now…

Dammit,
he was beginning to miss the little witch and he didn’t know who to be more
pissed with – Silken, for setting up permanent residence in his brain or
himself for being a damn fool who couldn't get a wacky woman out of his mind.

So
now the question was, what was he going to do about it?

Max
got up from behind his desk and walked over to the window to stare out at the
grounds of the new offices of his racing division.  Deep in thought, he shoved
his hands into his pockets.  He’d had a bellyful of Duke asking after the twins
and even Reed, long after he’d arrived back in England, kept asking him to tell
them hi.  Each time he’d mumbled something noncommittal but the truth was, he
hadn’t spoken to either one of them since their departure from his home weeks
before.

Not
Suave and not Silken....Silken, with her too-often knitted brows, her flashing
brown eyes and permanently pouty lips…lips he was dying to taste again.

At
the memory of her lips, her soft full breasts, her nipples so puckered and
pink, his mouth went dry.  Dang!  He hadn’t seen the woman in three weeks and
she still had such a hold on him that he was having a hell of a time shaking it
off.  If he ever did...

And
he had a feeling he wouldn’t, so he might as well do that thing he’d been
avoiding all this time.  He'd been telling himself he was a fool to even pursue
it.

As
much as it went against his nature, he would swallow his pride and go and find
Miss Silken McCullen. 

***

“Are
you nervous?  I’m nervous.  So darned nervous.”  Suave was wringing her hands
as they stood on the front steps of Doctor Pintero’s stone English Tudor home
in Shorewood Hills, a prestigious neighborhood not far from the University of
Wisconsin.

“Just
calm down.  It’s going to be all right.”  Silken gave her sister's hand a
little squeeze.  She knew exactly what Suave was feeling right now.  She was
nervous, too, but she wasn’t about to let on.  She needed to be strong for both
of them.

By
some miracle they’d finally found the contact details for the doctor who’d
delivered them over two decades earlier, a doctor who was now well into his
eighties and no longer practicing medicine.  They’d tried calling him but only
succeeded in getting his housekeeper who advised them that the doctor was very
sick and was not taking calls.  She’d been very abrupt and would have hung up
on them but it took Suave’s tearful appeal before she would listen.

After
their explanation and pleading request – they weren’t too proud to beg – the
woman finally agreed to speak to the doctor on their behalf.  She took their
names and number and promised to call back.  After two days of waiting they’d
heard nothing.  Silken, anxious to get things resolved, decided to call again
but Suave convinced her to wait a day or two longer.  On the third day they got
the call.  The doctor would see them but only for a short while and they should
do nothing, absolutely nothing to cause him undue stress.

They
promised and now here they were, on the doctor’s doorstep, waiting to find out
everything he knew about their mother.  He was their only hope of ever finding
her.

Suave
pressed the button and they heard the bell chime throughout the house and then
they waited, Silken holding her breath and Suave smoothing her skirt with
trembling hands.

The
door opened and a tall, severe-looking woman with ash-blonde hair stood staring
back at them.  Silken paused, surprised.  She’d expected a little woman,
probably one with gray hair but this woman was an Amazon, tall and strong and
obviously in charge.  “Mrs. Detlef?” she asked, wanting to make sure she had
the right person.

At
the woman’s nod, she continued.  “I’m Silken McCullen and this is my sister,
Suave.  We called last week about speaking with the doctor.”

The
woman’s jaw tightened.  “I was expecting you an hour ago.”

“Please
excuse us,” Suave said, the knuckles gripping her bag strap turning white. 
“Our flight was delayed.  We just got to Wisconsin this morning.”

The
woman seemed to accept that as a reasonable explanation because she nodded and
opened the door wider.  She stepped aside then jerked her chin toward them. 
“You may come in and have a seat while I speak to the doctor.  He got up early
today and he may be tired.  I will check if he can see you.”

Even
when they were seated in the dimly-lit sitting room, Suave didn’t look any more
relaxed.  She kept wringing the strap of her bag till the poor thing looked
like it would snap from the abuse.  “What if he’s asleep?” she asked in a
breathless whisper.  “What if they say we have to come back tomorrow?  We’re
already booked on the first flight out tomorrow.”

“Don’t
worry about it,” Silken said, trying to reassure her sister.  “If we have to
come back we’ll just get another ticket and head out day after tomorrow.”

“But
our tickets are non-refundable.  Our budget…”  

“Shh. 
I told you, don’t worry about it.  The doctor will see us.  I’m sure of it.” 
That was what she said, but Silken wasn’t half as sure as she sounded.  But
she’d just leave Suave in the dark on that one.

Two
minutes later Mrs. Detlef was back in the sitting room beckoning to them to
follow her.  “You must speak very quietly,” she said, “and don’t say anything
that could upset him.  He must avoid any kind of stress."

Suave
nodded but then she turned worried eyes on Silken, her question obvious.  How
would he handle their request?

When
they got to the room Mrs. Detlef opened the door quietly, waving them in, then
closed it gently behind them.  They were in a cozy room with colorful rugs on
the floor and although the evening was warm a space heater was on, placed close
to the bed which stood in the center of the room.  And in the bed lay a figure,
so still and white, it looked like he was dead.

Silken
looked across at Suave then slowly, almost creeping, she began to cross the
room.  When she got to the bed she looked down and that was when she realized
that the man’s eyes were wide open and he was staring back at her.

“G…good
afternoon, sir,” she said, feeling her face redden. Had he seen her creeping
toward him?  She must have looked so stupid.  “Thank you for agreeing to see
us.”

“Yes,
we really appreciate it.”  Suave was beside her now, nodding her head as if to
convince the man of their great appreciation.

Doctor
Pintero was old and wrinkled and as shriveled as a prune but his black eyes were
sharp as lances as they moved from one face to the other.  “Twins,” he said,
his voice a hoarse whisper.  “Black-haired twins.”

Silken’s
heart jerked.  What did he mean?  Did he actually remember them?  Their birth?

“Yes,”
she whispered, trying to contain her excitement.  “Do you remember us? Silken
and Suave McCullen.  University of Wisconsin Hospital.”

The
doctor drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.  Then he expelled it in a
long, slow sigh.

Silken’s
eyes widened as she stared down at the man’s ashen face.  Had she shocked him
with her outburst, even though it was a whispered one?  Had she put him under
the stress the housekeeper had warned her about, under penalty of being thrown
out the door?

But
then the doctor opened his eyes again and she could see the exhaustion nestled
there.

He
must be really sick for a simple statement to tire him out that much.

“Yes,
I remember,” he said finally.  “What do you want?”

“Doctor,”
Suave said, stepping closer to the bed.  “We want to know our mother.  Can you
help us?”

His
eyes swung to Suave and a frown settled on his wizened face.  “That was not her
wish.”  His voice was only a whisper but there was no mistaking the firmness in
it.  “You must not…try to find her.”  Then he broke into a hacking cough that
shook his body and made Suave grab for the glass of water on his nightstand. 
Gently, she slid her arm behind his shoulders and raised him up then put the
glass to his lips.

He
took two sips then, the coughing over, he sank back into the pillows.  “Thank
you,” he croaked, even as his chest heaved and he looked like he was gasping
for air.

For
a moment both Silken and Suave remained silent, watching him.  Then Silken
decided to take the chance and speak again.  “We have to find our mother,” she
said, keeping her tone as emotionless as she could.  “We can’t live like this,
not knowing who she is.  Please understand.”

“I
understand,” he said, and Silken could see in his eyes that he did.  “But she
said you must never know.  It was…her decision.”

Silken
felt like he’d just stabbed her in the heart. You must never know…the stricken
look on Suave’s face told Silken that the words had hurt her sister as much as
they’d hurt her.

“But
you have to tell us.”  Suave looked like she was about to cry.  “You must.”

The
man drew in a breath and let it out slowly.  On his face was a look of deep
regret.  “I swore,” he began, then cleared his throat.  “I swore I would never
let her name be known even if…even if you came looking for me.”

“Then
why did you let us come all this way,” Silken could not keep the bitterness out
of her voice, “if you knew you weren’t going to tell?”

The
man shook his head as he lay there on the pillows, looking from one woman to
the other, then his gaze focused on Silken.  “I wanted you to know, to understand,”
he said.  “There were circumstances.” He dropped his gaze.  Then, as if he
suddenly felt cold, he clutched the sheet and pulled it up under his chin. 
“Your mother…she wished to…put this behind her.  Try to…understand.”

“So
you’re not going to tell us?”  The room suddenly felt hot and Silken felt like
she was stifling.

“No.” 
His face resolute, he stared at them for a moment longer and then closed his
eyes.

Well,
that was that. He wasn’t going to talk and there was nothing she or Suave could
do about it.

She
turned away from the bed and made a step toward the door.  “Come on,” she said
to Suave.  “We’re wasting our time here.”

“But
Silken…” Suave looked from the old man to her then back again.

“Come
on,” Silken said again, her voice more insistent this time.  “He’s not going to
talk.  Didn’t you hear him?  Let’s go.”

She
could see the hesitation on Suave’s face but finally, sensibly, she backed away
and turned toward the door.  Silken put her arm around her sister and they
headed back to the door.

“Wait.”

They
both froze then turned as one to stare at the man in the bed.  He lifted a
shaking hand to point at them.

“Make
sure,” he said in a whispered shout, if there was such a thing, “that you give
Mrs. Detlef your contact information.”

Silken
looked at Suave and Suave looked back at Silken.  They both shrugged.  What did
it matter anymore? He wasn’t talking so his demand didn’t make much sense. 
Still, just to humor a very sick man, Silken decided to agree. 

“We
will,” she said, then with Suave in tow she turned back toward the door and
went on her way. 

CHAPTER
TEN

When
Max went to see Silken after a silence of almost a month it was a very
different woman that he found that day he walked onto the lot of Steady Auto.

He’d
called ahead and got Suave on the office phone so he’d asked her to let Silken
know he’d be dropping by.  He didn’t ask to speak to her.  He didn’t want to
risk it.  Knowing how contrary Silken could be, she would probably say no.

He’d
expected to find her with her head stuck under the hood of a car but this time
she was sitting on a boulder in the shade of a tree, a somber look on her
face.  He walked over and stopped right in front of her.

She
looked up and gave him a weak smile.  “Hi, stranger,” she said, and he could
detect no sarcasm, no impudence, no…Silken.

He
shoved his hands into his pockets as he stared down at her.  “What’s up?”

She
shrugged.  “Oh, nothing.”  Then she shifted over and jerked her head toward the
free space on the boulder.

Taking
her up on the invitation, he sat down beside her and looked out over the yard,
just like she was doing.  “I thought you’d be in the garage, working on a car,”
he said, his tone casual.

“Suave
told me you were coming over so I decided to take a break.”

He
looked across at her.  “I’m honored.”

She
gave a soft laugh.  “Don’t feel too honored.  I was tired, anyway.”

Max
frowned as he took in her face, the lines between her brows, the slight downturn
at the corners of her mouth.  “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Yeah,
well…” She looked away like she didn’t want to continue the conversation.

“Silken,
talk to me.  What’s going on inside that head of yours?”  When she just shook
her head, looking crestfallen but saying nothing, he reached over and grasped
her hand.  Something was definitely wrong but she wasn’t talking…and he needed
to find out.

“I…it’s
nothing.”  She shook her head then she bit her lip.

Now
he was beginning to get really concerned…and angry.  If something was wrong,
why the hell was she acting like a clam?  “Don’t give me that ‘it’s nothing’
crap.  Tell me what’s wrong or else I’ll talk to Suave,” he fixed his narrowed
gaze on her, “and I don’t know if you want that.”

She
frowned and tried to pull her hand away but he refused to let her go.  She
wasn’t going to get off that easily, not without him finding out what was
wrong.  She pulled again and when she saw that he had no intention of releasing
her she gave a defeated sigh.

“Are
you going to talk?” he asked.