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Sean nodded silently.
“I expected to find your grandfather.”
Sean’s eyes darted from Sheila to Emily and back again. He bit at his lower lip, scratched his neck and seemed to ponder what he was about to say. It was as if he were hesitant to trust her, and Sheila felt a knife of doubt twist in her heart. What had Noah told his son about their breakup? “Ben isn’t here now,” Sean explained. “He’s . . . at the hospital. I’m not supposed to say anything about it, you know, in case some reporters come nosin’ around here, but I suppose it’s all right to tell you about it.” He didn’t seem sure of his last statement.
“Is it serious?” Sheila asked quietly.
Sean shrugged indifferently, but worried lines scarred his flawless forehead. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his ragged shorts. “I think so. Dad doesn’t talk about it much.”
Sheila felt a deep pang of sadness steal into her heart. “Where is your father, Sean?”
Sean cocked his head toward the back of the house. “He’s down at the lake, just walkin’ and thinkin’, I guess.” His blue eyes met the sober expression in Emily’s. “Hey, pipsqueak, don’t look so down.... Maybe you and I can walk down to the park and grab an ice cream cone. What do ya say?”
Sheila recognized and appreciated Sean’s rather obvious way of giving her some time alone with Noah.
“Can I go, Mom,please?” The look of expectation on Emily’s face couldn’t be denied.
“Sure you can, but come back in a couple of hours, okay?”
Sheila doubted if Emily heard her. The child was already racing across the wooded lawn, her dark curls escaping from the neat barrettes over her ears. Sean was loping along beside her, seemingly as excited as Emily.
When the dangerous duo was out of sight, Sheila took in a deep breath of air, hoping to fortify herself against the upcoming confrontation with Noah. As she closed the door behind her and headed through the elegant main hallway of the manor, she wondered if Noah would listen to what she had to say. He had lied to her, it was true, but her reaction had been vicious and cold, entirely without reason. If only she had trusted him a little.
She walked through the den and a pang of remorse touched her heart as she remembered her first night with Noah, the dying fire and the heated love they had shared. Tears burned the back of her eyes as she opened the French doors and stood upon the veranda from which she had attempted to make her escape into the night several months before.
As she leaned against the railing she looked down the rocky cliff on which the veranda was perched. Nearly a hundred feet below her, standing at the edge of the water, was Noah. He stared out at the gray blue water as if entranced by the distant sailboats skimming across the lake. Sheila’s throat became dry at the sight of him; her love tore her soul in two.
Without thinking about how she would approach him, she half ran across the flagstones, her fingers slipping upon the railing, her eyes glued to Noah’s unmoving form. The old cable car had seen better years, and it groaned when Sheila pressed the call button. It shuddered and then steadily climbed the cliff to dock at the end of the deck. Sheila climbed inside the cab and pressed against the lever that released the brakes and slowly took the old car back to its original position at the base of the cliff. Noah didn’t seem to notice; he didn’t glance toward her, but continued to stare out at the cold lapping water.
He seemed to have aged since she last saw him. Deep lines outlined his eyes; his jaw was more defined, his face more sharply angled. Either he hadn’t been eating properly or he wasn’t able to sleep. Perhaps both. Her heart bled silently for the man she loved and the guilt he bore so proudly. How could she have accused him of everything she had? How could she have been so cruel as to add to his torment? A man who had given up everything to claim his unborn son; a man who had bucked tradition and raised that son alone; a man who had grieved when he thought he had failed with that same precious son.
The wind off the lake blew his hair away from his face, displaying the long lines of anxiety etching his brow. It was cool as it pushed the soft fabric of her dress against her legs and touched her cheeks to chill the unbidden tears that slid from her eyes.
He stood with his feet apart, his hands pressed palms out in the back pockets of his jeans. At the sound of her footsteps in the gravel, he cocked his bead in her direction, and when his blue gaze clashed with hers, the expression of mockery froze on his face.
What was there to say to her? Why was she here? And why did she look more beautiful in person than she had in the sleepless nights he had lain awake and imagined her?
Tentatively she reached up and pushed a wayward lock of black hair from his forehead and stood upon her toes to kiss him lightly on the lips. He didn’t move.
She lowered herself but continued to rest her fingertips on his shoulders.
“You must have come here because of the money,” he said, his voice breaking the thin stillness.
Sheila’s voice was firm. “I just found out that you deposited the money in my account, and I decided to come and throw it back in your face.”
His smile was still distrustful. “I knew you would.”
“You expected me to give it back to you?”
He shook his head at his own folly. “I hoped that you would come and see me face-to-face. If you hadn’t, I had decided to come back to Cascade Valley and try and talk some sense into you. I only waited because I thought we both needed time to cool off.”
“You knew we could work things out . . . after all that’s happened?”
He looked away from her and out at the lowering sun. “I didn’t know anything,” he admitted, “except that I couldn’t live without you.”
“But why didn’t you tell me about the fire? Why did you lie?”
“I didn’t lie to you, and I just needed more time to look into the cause of the fire. You have to believe that I would never intentionally hurt you, nor would I deceive you.”
