The Word of a Child (37 page)

She gave a choked giggle. It shouldn't be funny, but was
anyway. "Oh, dear."

On the field, the referee's whistle blasted, one team leaped
up and down in triumph, and after a brief lineup where the two teams slapped
hands, everyone streamed off the field. Parents closed lawn chairs, held out
coats to their daughters and departed in visible relief.

The parents of Zofie's teammates took their places, calling
greetings to each other and last-minute reminders to the girls running onto the
field. Mariah returned a few greetings, but she'd chosen a spot well down the
field in hopes she and Connor would be alone.

"Oh, Zofie's playing goalie first half. She's going to
freeze since she's not running around," Mariah said, worried.

"That depends on how good her team's defense is. She
may be busy."

"It'll be easy to slip with the ground frozen."

"And land in very cold slush," he agreed, eyeing
the areas in front of each goal where the ground had been torn up over the season,
turning into mud holes that had frozen last night and were partially thawed by
trampling feet today.

Mariah sighed. "Zofie loves mud."

He laughed. "A true athlete."

They watched the brief warm-up in silence, Mariah hugging
herself against the cold and wriggling her toes inside her athletic shoes and
thick socks. She hadn't expected to feel so … awkward. So unsure how to start.
Somehow, in her imagination it had seemed easy. She would cast herself into
Connor's arms and declare, "I'm free!" and he would say, "Marry
me."

Instead, not looking at her, Connor asked, "How was
your week?"

"Actually, not bad," she said in surprise.
"Better than I expected."

Now he did turn his head, his expression wary. "Why is
that?"

"I did a lot of thinking," Mariah confessed.
"And I nerved myself to talk to Simon yesterday."

The two teams lined up for the kickoff, the substitutes
running off. Zofie was doing jumping jacks under her goal. The ref blew his
whistle, and the action headed toward the opposite goal.

Connor watched her. "Did he succeed in making you feel
guilty? Or was he gentleman enough not to try?"

"Are you kidding? His anger just made it easier for me
to get out what I had to say."

Connor's eyes had narrowed, which didn't disguise his
intense curiosity. "Which was? Or isn't it any of my business?"

"It's your business." She automatically followed
the action as an opposing player broke away with the ball and raced toward
Zofie. When a defender kicked the ball out of bounds, Mariah stole a shy glance
at Connor. "At least, I think it's your business," she added.
"Do you want it to be?"

"I want," he said succinctly.

"Oh."

The other team threw the ball in, and a player kicked it
high toward the goal. Zofie leaped and caught it. Along with the entire
sideline, Mariah and Connor cheered.

Once Zofie had cleared the ball, Mariah said, "I told
Simon things I should have said years ago." Her voice didn't tremble this
time, as she told Connor what she'd said.

Connor came as close to gaping as she'd ever seen this very self-possessed
man do. "What if he wasn't guilty? What if I
am
responsible
for breaking the two of you up?"

"But you see," she said with quiet composure,
"that's what I spent the week discovering. You didn't. I was relieved when
you presented me with an excuse to leave him." She told him some of what
she'd thought that week and understood about herself. "I'm ashamed,"
she said, "to have been so stupid. Everybody always told me I was so
mature. Then what do I do but marry a guy because my parents don't want me
to!"

Connor watched her with a furrow between his eyebrows.
"Was it really that simple?"

"No." She smiled wryly. "Of course not. He
was handsome, passionate, charming when he wanted to be. He seemed exciting in
a way the boy-next-door types I'd always dated weren't. I just didn't let
myself see his darker side."

Connor made a sound in his throat. "I expected … I
don't know what. Anything but you announcing cheerfully that you told your
ex-husband off."

"Do I sound cheerful?"

He gave a grunt of laughter. "Perky as a
cheerleader."

"How repulsive." She made a face, then had to
laugh herself. "I guess I
feel
cheerful. I'm sad, too, and I'll always feel guilty for
leaving him the way I did, but I'm also proud of myself for facing the truth
and finally being honest with him."

Expression achingly tender, he lifted his hands to run his
knuckles down her cheek. "I'm proud of you, too."

"Thank you," she whispered.

A burst of cheering from the other sidelines and groans from
hers made her swing around guiltily. Zofie had somehow let a ball go by.

"Oh, no!" Mariah said. "I didn't even see
it."

"Good try!" the coach called.

Zofie kicked the ball out to the referee and her teammates
circled by to pat her on the back.

Once the game was underway again, Connor said meditatively,
"I've spent the week reopening my investigation."

"Of Simon?" So he'd meant it. Their surroundings
blurred, the yells fading, until all that existed was the two of them. Mariah
was surprised by the clutch of apprehension she felt. "Did you … learn anything?"

He swung to face her, his shoulders hunched, his hands
shoved in his pockets. Under a wooden expression, a cauldron of emotions
simmered. "Not a damn thing. I promised you and myself I'd find an answer,
and I haven't."

"How could you, so long after the fact?" she asked
quietly.

"Cold cases can be cracked. People remember things, let
secrets slip."

"But not this time."

He shook his head. "I know why I was so convinced Simon
was guilty. I've got to tell you, Mariah, I still think he did it. But I have
some doubts I didn't have then, too."

He told her about the divorce of Lily's parents and the
refusal of each to talk about the reasons for it. "I only talked to him on
the phone, since he lives in San Jose, but he was evasive about why he isn't
seeing his daughter, and Mrs. Thalberg was damn uncomfortable at the idea of
Lily visiting him. I didn't pick up those vibes, then. I have to wonder if
something happened."

"So it might not have been Simon at all." She
couldn't understand her lack of reaction. Shouldn't she be … relieved? Hopeful?
Angry?
Something?
"It might have been Lily's dad."

"It's a possibility." He was frowning. "Oh,
hell, call a spade a spade. It's a wild guess. I'm reading between the
lines." His hunch deepened. "Damn it, Mariah, my best guess is still
Simon."

"Oh." She bit her lip. "Then why…"

"Hasn't he gone for Zofie? I don't know. Like I said
before, maybe Lily was an experiment. Maybe he horrified himself. For all we
know, he's in counseling to deal with the urges. Maybe coming so close to
getting arrested scared him."

"What you're telling me," she said, staring
blindly at the bunched girls on the field, "is that we'll never
know."

He drew a harsh breath. "I made you a promise I can't
keep."

Mariah faced him. "I told you not to make it. That I
didn't need those answers."

His eyes searched hers. "The questions are going to
hang over us."

"Not if we don't let them." She vaguely heard the
whistle blow, knew the girls were running off the field. "You are not
responsible for the end of my marriage."

He swore softly, the muscles in his jaw knotting. "I
want to believe that."

She sought desperately for a way to convince him, for words
she hadn't said before, and failed. "Whether you and I … see each other or
not, I am divorced. No matter what you learned about Simon, he and I would not
have gotten back together. You did your job. That's all. Now you've done more
than your job."

His gloved hands gripped hers. "Trying to prove him
guilty."

"But if he'd been innocent, you would have told me
that, too." She felt the gentle smile curve her mouth. "You're an
honest man, Connor McLean."

Zofie rushed up. "Where's my coat, Mom? I'm cold!"

Connor released Mariah's hands. Flustered, she turned and
found where she'd set the jacket. "Hurry. Put it on."

"I let them score!" Zofie said unhappily.

"Goalies can't stop every kick," Connor told her.
"That's why you have teammates. How many did you stop?"

"I don't know." Her face cleared some. "A
bunch. But I
could
have gotten that one."

"Then next time you will." He cuffed her lightly
on the shoulder. "You're six years old, kiddo. Give yourself a learning
curve."

She studied him. "You were holding Mommy's hands."

"Yeah. I was."

"You aren't going to get married or something, are
you?"

"Maybe." He contemplated her, although his gaze
flicked to Mariah to catch her reaction. "Would you mind?"

Her forehead puckered as she thought. "No, I guess
not," she decided. "You're nice."

"Thank you," he said gravely.

"I gotta eat my snack. I'm playing forward second
half," she announced. "I bet
I
can score."

"I know you can." He grinned at her. "You go
get 'em, Zofie."

"Okay." She sounded matter-of-fact until she gave
a cheeky grin. "You watch me."

He laughed, Mariah hugged her, and Zofie hurried off to join
her teammates.

She was barely gone when Mariah felt Connor's gaze.

"Are we going to see each other?" he asked.
"Is that what you have in mind?"

She turned uncertainly. "Isn't that what you
wanted?"

He gave a crooked smile in which she read vulnerability that
stunned her.

"It's a start," he said. "But … no. That's
not what I had in mind."

"Then … then what?" Her voice had sank to a
whisper.

He took her hands again, and she wished desperately that
they weren't wearing gloves, that she could feel his heat and strength.

"I have in mind marrying you," he said simply.
"If—when—you'll have me."

"We haven't known each other that long." It had to
be the prissy "good girl" speaking.

"I told you." He still smiled, with tenderness and
aching vulnerability. "I knew right away, that day in Mrs. Patterson's
office. I took me a while to recognize what I felt, but somewhere inside I
knew. From that day forth."

Her fingers tightened on his. "Me, too. Maybe not from
that day. I think it was when you came to see me in my classroom."

His eyes darkened. "You love me?"

She gave a small nod.

"Is it too soon to give me an answer?"

"Can you live with our past?" She watched him
carefully. "Simon will be around, you know. He's Zofie's father. We can't
… pretend he doesn't exist."

"If you don't blame me, I can live with it." His
voice was low, rough. "God, I love you."

Drowning in his gaze, she whispered, "I wish we were
somewhere else."

"Me, too." He cleared his throat. "I think
they're playing again."

"Are they?" She didn't look away.

"Zofie might score."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Sweetheart…" A muscle jumped in his cheek.
"There's something else you need to know."

Mariah drew back slightly. "What's that?"

"I've decided to quit my job. I'd like to try
counseling kids and teenagers. It'll mean going to graduate school at UW. Money
might be tight for a couple of years."