Cradle and All Read online

  Her smile was approving. “The brains behind the brawn. Why the models first?”

  “To test out the architect’s plan. Even the best architects can overlook the heating, lighting and plumbing practicalities in their eagerness to be innovative. A model points out those deficiencies and saves the expensive fixes that have to be done afterward.”

  She turned back to the shelves. There was a delight of discovery written over her face, coming through her voice. “The detail in these is amazing. I can even read the sign on the entrance to the Gap. You must have been wonderful at it. And it had to be financially rewarding. Why aren’t you still doing it?”

  Tom wished she hadn’t asked that question. Was she disappointed that he had given up the opportunity to make money for the chance to make a difference in the world?

  “The world isn’t suffering from too few malls,” he said after a moment.

  When she glanced over her shoulder at him he could see a bit of color in her cheeks. “Being a priest means a great deal to you, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s not just my profession, Anne,” Tom said simply. “It’s who I am.”

  There was a deep quiet on her face as she studied him for a moment.

  She gestured toward the table saw and various power drills. “You designed and built this room and the stairs leading up to the entrance behind the bookshelves.”

  “Constructing it was a good challenge, not to mention good exercise when we were inundated with snow this last winter. And it gives me a place to work on the church repairs that are always cropping up.”

  “I wonder if your parishioners appreciate all your talents. You do impressive work.”

  “I’m glad you like the room.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the room.”

  She smiled and Tom realized then that she meant his job as a priest. The tightness that had wound in his gut during the last few minutes eased.

  Tommy cooed in Anne’s arms and flailed his hands. Anne caught one of his little fists and gave it a kiss.

  “Shrubber lied about Lindy and the baby, didn’t he?” Anne asked, a frown appearing between her eyebrows.

  “Tommy is not the child of Rolan and Heather Kendrall,” Tom said carefully.

  “Can we prove that if it comes down to it?” Anne asked.

  “We’re going to have to try,” Tom said.

  “Tommy’s real mother could verify it, couldn’t she?” Anne asked.

  “Anne, that is not an option.”

  She shrugged, clearly disappointed, but didn’t press the point. “I wish I had gotten a look at his car. You realize it had to have been Bender in that high-speed chase with Lindy?”

  “They left in a black Lexus,” Tom said.

  “If it had been a green van, I’d be calling Fred right now.”

  “It’s best not to involve the police at this time.”

  Tom knew that he was asking her to trust him yet again. Without explanation. She studied his face, and after a moment nodded.

  “Okay,” she said. “Where do we go from here?”

  She’d never know how much her trust meant to him. He had no words to tell her.

  “We need to find out more about the Kendralls, as well as Shrubber and Bender,” Tom said.

  “I still have contacts with the D.A.’s office in Boston. The people there know most of the lawyers around. And the ones they don’t know, they can find out about. Tom, are you concerned Shrubber’s coming back?”

  “It’s hard to know what he might do. If he knew about the hikers seeing Lindy in a high-speed chase with a green van, I don’t think either he or Bender would have chanced coming here in the first place. But I didn’t hear that mentioned in any news report about her death.”

  “Hunter has kept that information away from the news reporters,” Anne said. “Fred tells me he’s put a tight lid on the case.”

  “Did Fred tell you anything useful about the VW Beetle Lindy was driving?” Tom asked.

  “Just that it’s untraceable.”

  “Interesting,” Tom said as he walked up to her and Tommy.

  “How?”

  “Just interesting.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the stairs.

  “Are we going somewhere?”

  “Boston. That’s where the answers are.”

  “Now?” Anne asked as she started up the stairs.

  “As soon as we pack.”

  “Pack? Wait a minute.” She whirled around. “How long are we going to be in Boston?”

  She was standing two steps above him. Their faces were level with each other. It was just too good an opportunity to pass by. Tom lightly brushed his lips against hers. Her sweet taste was fast becoming addictive.

  “At least a few days,” he murmured against the softness of her mouth.

  Her sigh was a warm breath. “Are you trying to completely compromise both our reputations?”

  “Both our reputations are already completely compromised,” he reminded her.

  She pulled back to look him in the eye. “Tom, you have no idea how sorry I am about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I have to talk to Phyllis and explain that I only said I was the baby’s mother because I was trying to keep Shrubber and Bender from taking Tommy.”

  “And what are you going to say when Phyllis asks you why you didn’t want them taking Tommy?”

  “Well, because he’s your baby, of course.” Anne heard her words and grimaced. “Scratch that. She’ll ask me who the baby’s mother really is and I won’t be able to tell her. Which means I can’t tell her Tommy is yours. Dear heavens, what can I tell her?”

  Tom kissed the tip of Anne’s suddenly scrunched up nose. “You don’t have to tell Phyllis anything.”

  “Tom, this is not something that’s just going to go away. We’re not two foolish teenagers who could be forgiven for a moment’s stupidity. We’re a priest and a judge. People look to us to set an example for responsible behavior. How could I ever admonish another couple in my court for what everyone will believe I’ve done? How could you continue to preach respect for the institution of marriage?”

  “Anne, the solution is simple. I asked you before and I’m asking you again. Will you marry me?”

  He watched the light shift and shimmer in the clear crystal depths of her eyes. Then they clouded over once again.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” she said.

  “What wouldn’t you do?”

  “Make fools of us both.”

  “Anne, I’ve never proposed to a woman before in my life. Never had the slightest inclination to. But now, with you—”

  “Your inclination is to do the right thing,” Anne said, cutting him off. “I understand that. But getting married to someone you don’t know is not the right thing.”

  Tom moved to hold her, but she retreated to the next step.

  “Tom, we’ve seen each other off and on for less than four days. Nobody can know anyone in so short a time. I’ve been married. Believe me, it’s not a mistake I’m making again, ever.”

  “But, Anne—”

  “You told me you were waiting for your soul mate. Hold out for her, Tom. It’s the only chance you have of ending up in that minority of marriages that make it.”

  Her voice, moments before so breathless, was back to its full force. Tom’s heart gave a sigh.

  He had rushed her. He shouldn’t have. She wasn’t an impulsive teenager who would let herself be swept off her feet. She was a woman with a level head on her shoulders and a heart that had been broken twice before. What’s more, her arguments were sane and logical.

  But Tom wasn’t feeling very sane or logical. For the first time in his life he was violently in love. And
it wasn’t easy holding back what was in his heart. Still, he was going to have to.

  Anne was not ready to listen to a declaration of love.

  She turned and headed up the stairs. “So where are we going to stay in Boston?” she asked.

  “A private home.”

  “Separate bedrooms?”

  Tom let out a heavy breath. “Since you had to ask, I guess you’re right. You don’t know me.”

  * * *

  “ANNE, I’M GLAD you answered,” Maureen said.

  Anne was hurriedly packing for Boston when her cell phone had rung. She held it against her ear with her shoulder as she shoved lotions and creams into her cosmetic case.

  “Maureen, I’m sorry. I know I promised to call you back, but—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” her friend interrupted. “You’ve obviously had a lot going on. Just tell me if it’s true.”

  “If what’s true?” Anne asked.

  “That you and Tom had that adorable baby together.”

  Anne groaned. Maureen chuckled in her ear. “Yes, my friend, you two are the talk of the town—or in this case the village. So, when did this all happen?”

  “Maureen, I...” What the hell could she say?

  “Black robes can hide a lot, Anne. But you weren’t wearing yours when we had lunch together six months ago. And if you were pregnant then, I’m Gwyneth Paltrow. What’s going on?”

  “I...can’t say.”

  “It has something to do with that dead girl, doesn’t it?” Maureen asked, all lightness gone from her tone. “Who were those two men who came by to see Tom this afternoon?”

  Anne shook her head in dismay. Was there anything that happened in Cooper’s Corner that the residents didn’t end up learning?

  “Maureen, I hope I can tell you all about this someday, but today is not that day.”

  “This talk isn’t good for Tom,” Maureen said in that same serious tone. “If you can tell me anything that could help stop it...?”

  Maureen just wanted to help, and it bothered Anne that she couldn’t explain. But this still wasn’t her secret to share.

  “I have to go out of town for a while,” Anne said. “I’ll call you when I get back. Things may be clearer then.”

  Once she said goodbye to Maureen, Anne flipped her cell phone closed. She hoped things would be clearer. They were nothing but a muddled mess at the moment, just like her emotions.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about Tom’s proposal. The unexpected surprise of it still had her reeling. She’d never imagined that he would be prepared to go so far to protect their reputations.

  Thank heavens she had the good sense to see the situation for what it was.

  Tom was attracted to her. He made no secret of it. But she knew that he never would have asked her to marry him after knowing her only four days if she hadn’t so foolishly claimed to be the baby’s mother and put them both in this difficult situation.

  Every time she thought back to that fateful moment when she stood in front of Shrubber and Bender and blurted it out, she wondered if she had gone insane. She hadn’t even known she was going to say it until she heard her words reverberating in her ears. Even now she had no idea what had gotten into her.

  All she had thought about was that she had to stop those men from taking Tommy at any cost. She just hadn’t thought about the cost being Tom’s reputation—and her own.

  She could weather it, she supposed. Judges weren’t held to the same personal high standards as priests. But what of Tom?

  Was she compounding her error by agreeing to go off with him like this?

  The doorbell rang. That would be him. She stared at the packed bags on her bed.

  Tell him you’re not going. Look what’s happened to you already around this man. Don’t be a fool. You don’t know what’s in Boston. You could get embroiled in even more of a mess.

  It was that wise voice inside her again. Giving her such good advice. One of these days, she was really going to have to take it.

  * * *

  TOM AND ANNE stopped for dinner halfway to Boston at a family restaurant. A six-year-old was having a birthday party with all his friends. Anne found herself smiling. She hadn’t heard so much noise since she’d spent Christmas morning at her sister’s place with all twenty-eight of her in-laws. Of course, that was before her sister’s divorce.

  They were back on the highway with only the purring engine of the Porsche as a backdrop when Tom asked her the question he had asked once before. “Why no kids, Anne?”

  She looked out into the black night at the distant lights of the towns streaking by them. This wasn’t a subject she cared to talk about. But he had cared to ask. And suddenly she found herself telling him.

  “Bill and I both wanted kids right away. After three years of no luck, we agreed it was time to find out what was wrong. I was right in the middle of a big case, working sixteen hours a day. I scheduled my battery of tests for the next month. A week later I called and cancelled the tests, when Bill proved he wasn’t the one at fault.”

  “He had his semen analyzed?” Tom asked.

  “He got his girlfriend pregnant.”

  Tom was quiet for a moment before asking, “How did you find out?”

  “Bill told me. Sounded damn proud about it, too. They had been using protection for the entire year he had been seeing her, and he still was man enough to impregnate her. His exact words.”

  Tom said something under his breath.

  “I didn’t catch that,” Anne said.

  “I was asking for forgiveness.”

  “For what?”

  “For what I was just thinking of doing to your ex.”

  Anne smiled, oddly touched. It was strange to think of Tom having violent thoughts toward anyone. But kind of nice in this case. And such a relief that he hadn’t responded with the cloying sympathy for her that her family had.

  Pity was so damn denigrating.

  They arrived late at a brownstone in the Back Bay. When Tom walked up the stairs, Anne expected him to ring the bell. But instead he drew out a key and inserted it into the lock and opened the door. He turned on a light in the entry and stepped aside for her to pass.

  The house was lovely inside—shining oak floors, bay windows, a graceful curved banister leading to the second floor.

  “Who lives here?” Anne asked as Tom led the way into the living room and set her bags on the sofa.

  “I do when I’m in Boston.”

  “This is your home?”

  “It was left in trust to me. The kitchen’s that way. The bedrooms are upstairs. I’ll carry these bags up in a few minutes when I return with the rest of the things.”

  As Tom headed back to the car, Anne looked around with new interest. So this was where Tom had lived before he became a priest.

  The living room was dwarfed by its enormous built-in bookshelves, a bona fide fireplace and overstuffed furniture in deep browns and golds. Above the fireplace was the portrait of a couple that had to have been painted a hundred years before.

  Anne drew closer to it. The man had ragged features. But he also had blond hair and blue eyes and the same distinctive bronze skin that Tom possessed. The woman’s coloring was darker, her features finer. Tom’s great-grandparents?

  Too bad people didn’t smile in those days when they had their portrait painted, Anne thought. So much of what was inside a person came out in their smile.

  She carried the sleeping baby in her arms into the kitchen. It was compact, gleaming white, with glass panel cabinets and a separate walk-in pantry. Just off it was a half bath. Next she ascended the stairs and found two bedrooms with an adjoining full bath.

  The furnishings had bold, clean lines with a definite masculine touch, but there were no personal m
ementos to tell her about the man who lived here. She opened cabinets and closets and drawers, yet all she found were extra linens for the beds and towels for the bath.

  It wasn’t until she stepped into the second bedroom that she spied it sitting on the dresser—an old framed photo of a smiling young couple. The woman was slender, with bright blue eyes and golden-blond hair. The man with his arm around her looked exactly like Tom.

  Anne turned the framed picture over and read the handwritten scrawl: “Tom and Julie on their third wedding anniversary.”

  * * *

  TOM MADE TWO trips to the car before he had all their luggage in the house. It would have been one trip if it had just been his and Anne’s things. But he was learning fast that babies didn’t travel light.

  He found Anne in the second bedroom and set her things on the cinnamon comforter.

  “You made a wise selection,” he said. “This room has the softer mattress.”

  “This is your father, isn’t it?” she asked, holding up the old photo.

  “He was my father,” Tom answered. “And she was my mother. They’re both dead.”

  “I’m sorry.” Everything about Anne’s face and tone put real meaning into those two words. “Your mother was beautiful. And your dad looked exactly like you.”

  “If that picture is any indication.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Tom leaned against the bedpost. “My parents were sky divers—part of a professional team that also included my grandfather, uncle and aunt. They were flying back from a jump when their plane hit bad weather and crashed. Everyone aboard was killed.”

  “When was this?”

  “When I was five.”

  Anne could see him. A little towheaded boy suddenly alone in the world. It made her unbearably sad.

  “Who took care of you?” Anne asked.

  “I went to live with my grandmother in New York,” Tom said. “Do you have everything that you need?”

  She gazed down at the sleeping infant in her arms and was reminded anew of his recent loss.

  “Mind if I keep Tommy with me tonight?” she asked.

  Tom stepped away from the bedpost and came toward her. He leaned over and planted a light kiss on her forehead. “Tommy would love it. I’ll bring in his things.”