Passions of Chelsea Kane Part 17

"You may get bored."

"I won't. I have plenty to think about while I'm sitting here."

He was quiet for a time before ask. ing, "Like what?" Like what Judd's childhood in this house had been like. Like who Leo had been then. Like what had happened to Emma, whether Chelsea looked like her, and if either of those had anything to do with why Judd resisted Chelsea so.

She sighed. "Like whether Wendell's okay."

"You could drive to Concord and find out."

"Hunter's gone there. He'll come by later to let me know." Another silence fell between them. Chelsea studied the braided rug on the floor between her and the bed. It was faded. She wondered how long he'd had it, wondered if it held sentimental value for him the way things like that did for her. After her last trip to Baltimore, when she'd had the boxes from the house transferred to her condo for storage, she had returned to Norwich Notch with several small Oriental rugs that she had loved growing up. They were in honored places at Boulderbrook-one in the living room before the fireplace, one in her bedroom, one in the room that she used as a studio. She took comfort in having the old and familiar 370 The Faswons Of OWSM Kwe around her. It was another instance of putting down roots where there had been none before. "What else are you thinking about?" Judd asked. Her eyes met his. His voice had that element of the old and familiar. She didn't know why-or why she kept wanting him, but she did. Night after night she lay in bed telling herself that she had plenty to do without Judd, yet she still missed him. She missed the solidity of his body, his weight, his warmth, his scent. Her eyes slipped away. "I'm thinking about the accident. It was awful seeing the two of you on the ground that way."

"You shouldn't have followed me down."

"I wanted to see what was going on. I feel so removed from it all. Judd," she asked before she lost the courage, "did I have anything to do with causing it. "The dog holes were wrong."

"Did I distract someone? When I came down the ladder, did someone look at me who shouldn't have looked away from what he was doing?". She was haunted by the thought. "The dog holes were too close together. If they hadn't been, the hooks would have held."

"Then it wasn't me?"

"Accidents happen. Quarrying's dangerous."

"How is he?" came a voice from the door. Chelsea sat up immediately. The owner of the voice was Murphy, who oversaw work at Moss Ridge when neither Judd nor Hunter was there. "I'll live," Judd said. "Doc st.i.tched you good?"

"You could say that. Any word on Wendell?"

"Not yet. When will you be able to play?" 371 Rwbara Deunsw Chelsea, who would have thought Murphy's first concern would be work, sputtered out a disbelieving laugh. Judd turned his head on the pillow and looked at her. "It's important."

"I know. I know." To Murphy Judd said, "Maybe in a month or two."

"I'll tell the guys," Murphy said, and, raising a hand in a half salute, was gone as suddenly as he'd come. Judd turned his head on the pillow again, resting his arm on his forehead when he looked at Chelsea this time. "He'll also tell the guys you were here. By morning the whole town will think it's my baby." She couldn't tell if he was angry. His look was as dispa.s.sionate as his voice. To protect herself from that coolness, as well as any anger that might lurk beneath it, she grew defiant. "Not the whole town. Donna knows it's not yours. So does Hunter, and I'll tell anyone else I talk with. You won't be blamed for long." He lay there looking at her. She refused to look away, because she fully meant what she'd said. She had no intention of pinning her baby on Judd. "it's actually flattering," he said. This, from the man who had once asked in a fury whether she had indeed planned to tell him that her baby wasn't his? "Excuse me?" "Being thought so virile as to bed you and impregnate you within days of your moving here." She couldn't argue with the virility part. It was blatant even now-in the stubble on his jaw, the dark hair at the V of his sweater, the firmness of flesh where that sweater failed to meet his low- 372 The Paswons of chelsm jenne g jeans, the shape of those jeans in the region of his fly. Her very first impression of him hadn't changed a bit. He was still the most attractive man she had ever seen. Her reaction to him hadn't changed much, either.

Oh she tried to ignore it for everything she was [email protected], since clearly there wouldn't be any completion. But there was the same catch in her throat, the same tingling in her belly, the same heat between her legs-and it wasn't abnormal, she knew now. Her OB man in Baltimore had told her that. So had the books she'd read. Some women experienced heightened s.e.xual awareness through their pregnancies. She was cursed to be one. Imagining that Judd looked smug, she said, "You didn't impregnate me."

"I bedded you." Her cheeks warmed. "Yeah, well." He gave her a dry look before he closed his eyes, leaving her to think about how he'd bedded her, from the first time to the last, how exciting it had been, how good it had felt. When the yearning became too great, she buried her face against her knees. She was her own worst enemy. She had to get control of herself. "How are you feeling?" Judd asked. "Fine," she bit out, though her voice was m.u.f.fled. "Why did you faint?"

"The blood."

"Why did you look?"

" couldn't help it."

"You didn't have to stand there watching."

"I couldn't not stand there."

"You didn't have to hold my hand. I'm a big boy." 373 Barbwa Definsky "I held it for me," she said, and, taking a breath, raised her head.

"It's no big thing. I'm fine."

"Overall. Have you been okay?" She knew he was talking about the baby and felt a softening inside. "Very okay."

"Tired?"

"Not unusually."

He focused on her stomach, and for a minute that was all he did. Then he said, "Let me see." She felt the catch inside and ignored it. Obliging him as innocently as she could, she unfolded her legs and smoothed the sweater over her stomach. "There's not much to see."

"Are those special pants?"

"Not yet. Soon." After another pause, during which his eyes didn't once leave her stomach, he asked, "Does it move?"

"Vaguely." It was more a fluttering than anything else, but it came with rea.s.suring frequency. Chelsea fancied the baby was tickling her on the inside just to let her know it was there. She smiled at the thought. She was still smiling when she met Judd's gaze. "The most incredible thing is hearing the heartbeat," she found herself saying, because she so wanted to share the excitement with him. "I mean, your mind knows that you're pregnant.

Your [email protected] knows it, because there are subtle changes, and you're nauseated all the time. Then the nausea pa.s.ses, and you get used to the subtle changes, and it's hard to believe anything's happening inside at all. Then"-she caught in a little [email protected]'you hear a fast little patter-ba-b.u.mp-bab.u.mp-ba-b.u.mp-ba-b.u.mp-and it hits you that there's a real human being growing in there." 374 The Paswons of Chelsea Kane Judd's eyes darkened. "You sound like you like being pregnant."

"Very much. I told you so in August. This is the first time in my life I've had anything of my own ftesh and blood. I can't wait until it's born."

"Does your father know yet?" Her stomach jangled. She wondered if the baby felt her nerves, and she moved her hand over it in a soothing way.

"Not yet."

"When are you going to tell him?" Her voice was smaller, which was exactly how she felt when she thought about Kevin. "I don't know." She was an adult. She was a mother-to-be. She was a strong, independent woman. "I have a problem when it comes to my father. I don't know why. I deal with other people so easily." After a brief pause Judd said, "He's your father. The ground rules are different." He had put it well, she thought. "I think about him a lot. He's in his new place now.

I call a couple of times a week. He usually isn't home, so I leave messages on his machine. I sometimes wonder what would happen if I had a real emergency. I think he's written me off."

"If he'd done that, he wouldn't be so upset about your being here." She smiled sadly. "I used to tell myself that. It was rea.s.suring. But so much time has pa.s.sed now without any meaningful communication that the rea.s.surance just isn't there. When does the upset fade? When does the communication start again? What will it take to break the ice? Something tragic?" Judd took a deep breath and winced. "Maybe." He returned his arm to his eyes. "Dad was all in favor of my going off to school. He wanted me to do more in -375 Barbam Dennshy life than he had. My thing was basketball, so he was right there with me at the school gym every Sat.u.r.day morning shooting baskets. I got my scholars.h.i.+p and went off to college, and then when college was done, suddenly he wanted me back home. I didn't know why. Here I had my degree and was qualified to do all the things that would get me ahead in life, and he wanted me home. We argued about it, and about Janine. He hated Janine. And she hated him." Somewhere between the school gym and college, Chelsea had left the leather chair and come to sit beside him on the bed. "How could she hate him? He seems so sweet. Or is that his, "No. He was always sweet. But he used to have a spirited side, and that spirited side hated Janine. He talked like she was evil incarnate."

"Were you married to her then?"

"Engaged.

Dad said not to ru-sh. ' things come to those who waft.' It was his favorite saying." Beneath his arm, his mouth grew resigned. "Dad saw my mother in Janine."

"Did they look alike."

"Not particularly."

"Do I look like your mother?" He s.h.i.+fted his arm. His voice weared. "Not particularly. But you're beautiful and you're stylish, and my mother was all that. So was Janine. Dad also knew she was a city girl, and my mother was one, so there was trouble right there. Feelings came back to him that he must have repressed. He had raised me without saying a single unkind word about my mother, but suddenly he was full of them, and it wasn't that I was naive where Emma was con- 376 The rasgialls Of ed Notchers gossip. I knew she deserted Dad." N t was said with sadness. "G.o.d only knows, I felt sting of being without her growing up.

But I didn't see where that applied to me when I was twenty-two and feeling high on myself. As I saw It, I was on my way to doing exactly what Dad had always wanted me to do, and if he suddenly changed his mind, that was his problem." His voice fell prey to an even deeper sadness. "It wasn't until later that I realized he was terrified of being alone."

"Was that why you came back?"

"No. I came back because he got sick and had no one to take care of him.

And because my marriage stank. And because I was frustrated with my job. And because I missed playing basketball with guys who could laugh even when they lost."

"Was Leo. pleased you were home?"

"Yeah. By that time he didn't remember the arguments we'd had. He knew I'd been away, but since Janine wasn't with me, it was like she never existed." Not knowing when he'd be as talkative again, Chelsea pushed on. "What went wrong with the m , 10"

arriage. "it burned itself out. Dad was right about Janine. She wasn't in it for the long haul, any more than my mother had been."

"Did you love her?"

"Pa.s.sionately but briefly." Which, on a physical basis, described Chelsea's own affair with him, she realized. She wondered whether it had to be that way with Judd. He had a capacity for caring; what he did for his father attested to it, as did the way he related to men at the quarry. But he hadn't had the best of luck with women. 377 Har6mrs Degngky He lifted his arm. "I could use aspirin." She found some in the bathroom and returned with a gla.s.s of water. When he'd swallowed them she said, "I'll see what's for dinner."

"Gretchen will make something."

"I can make something."

"I pay Gretchen to cook."

"You pay her to watch Leo. Let me cook."

"I've tasted your cooking."

"That was breakfast. Breakfast isn't my best meal. You've never tasted my dinner. I'll be back," she said, and left feeling more directed than she had in months-incredible, given all she'd done in that time, but true nonetheless. She spent a fortune on food at Farr's and, after that, at the bakery. She went slightly overboard, she knew, but was feeling too benevolent to care. A good part of what she bought- was for Wendell's family. Cutters Comer was out past the hospital, fifteen minut Ies and a world away from the center of town. The roads here were pitted, the homes little more than shacks in need of paint and repair. Most had front porches, but they were a far cry from front porches in town. Some sported frayed beach chairs, others were crudely enclosed for added living s.p.a.ce, still others sagged with age. Shrubbery was little more than brush that was wild and hardy enough to survive in front yards cluttered with junk cars, worn tires, rusted bicycles, and scattered toys. Where gra.s.s managed to grow, it had turned to hay in the summer's heat and had never revived. Still, there was something lived in and loved 378 The raswong of cbelmw AMW ut the place. Whereas Chelsea could drive ugh finer streets in town and pa.s.s homes with . painted rockers on their porches, expensive mountain bikes in their driveways, gracefully symmetrical clotheslines and neatly stacked wood in their yards, those streets were often empty. Here, there were people. Young children darted through the clutter in the yards, while their mothers took down wash from makes.h.i.+ft lines that ran from a hook on the house to a tree. Some of those mothers looked too young to have children. Others looked too old. Still others were pregnant again. Whether because she, too, was pregnant, or because the odds were strong that one or both of her biological parents came from the Corner, Chelsea felt a connection with the place. She could face George Jamieson or Emery Farr or Oliver Plum without batting an eyelash, but her palms were damp when she pulled up at Wendell's address. Chelsea guessed the girl who answered her knock to be no more than ten. She was a pretty girl, clean and simply dressed.

Looking out curiously from behind each of her legs were two younger children, both dark and tousle-haired, looking incredibly alike. "Hi.

I'm Chelsea Kane. Is your mom here?" The girl shook her head. Her eyes were large and as dark as her hair. She looked frightened. "She's at the hospital. My daddy was hurt." "I know," Chelsea said gently, though she hadn't thought the children would be left alone. "That's why I'm here."

The girl's eyes grew larger. "Is he gonna die?"

"Oh, no. He'll be just fine. But I thought that since your mother will be busy taking care of him, you 379 BWtwa Definsky could use some extra food in the house."

She glanced at the handle of the screen door. "May I come in?" "What's in the bags?" asked one of the little ones. "Good stuff," Chelsea said, "like roasted chicken and lasagna and fruit."

"That's not good stuff," declared the second little one. "And cupcakes," Chelsea went on, "and halfmoons and gingerbread boys and cookies with pumpkin faces."

"Pum'kins?" asked the first little one with interest. "Pumpkin cookies," the older girl put in. The second little one was tempted enough by that to leave the shelter of her sister's leg and push open the screen.

Chelsea caught it with an elbow and slipped inside. She easily found her way to the kitchen, but the table was covered with the remains of lunch, so she put the bags on a chair. Reaching inside one, she came up with three pumpkin cookies. The two little girls took them instantly, but the older one shook her head. Chelsea looked around. She could understand why the table hadn't been cleared. The sink was already filled with dishes. Putting a gentle hand on the older girl's shoulder, she said, "Your mom will be tired when she gets home. How about you and I do some cleaning here, so she won't have to worry about doing it herself."

Laying her blazer over the back of a chair, Chelsea pushed up the sleeves of her sweater and went to the sink. The girl remained behind.

It wasn't until the dish drainer was filled that she took a dish towel and began to dry what had been washed. 380 old are your sisters?"

Chelsea asked. :-Four."

"Are they twins?"

"Yes." Mft must be fun to always have someone to play "I guess." She didn't look either enthused or comfortable. Chelsea wasn't sure what to say to make her relax, so she tried, "What's your name?"

"Caroline."

"And your sisters?"

"Charlotte and Claire."

"Charlotte. That's a big name for a little girl."

"Charlie." Chelsea smiled. Charlie was better. She glanced back at the little girls. They were standing beside the chair with the grocery bags and had chocolate rings around their mouths. They had gotten into the cupcakes. "Hey, you two. That's all for now."

"I wanna moon," one said. "I wananother pum'kin," said her twin. "You have to help clean up first," Chelsea said. "I need you to bring me all the dishes from the table so that I can wash them. Can you do that? Very carefully? One at a time?" She figured that would keep them busy for a while. When she had finished doing the dishes, she wiped down the counters and, fully expecting another mess, opened the refrigerator. It wasn't too bad, largely because there wasn't much food inside. She neatened what was there, wiped up the worst of the spills, then unloaded her purchases, and all the while the twins were beside her with a steady stream of talk while Caroline stayed off to the side. 381 Barbwa Demnww "What's this?"

"What's that?"

"Where do you live?"

"I don't like ham."

"Claire dirtied your jacket."

"I did not."

"I'm gonna to be a mouse for Halloween."

"Mommy has pants like those."

"Can I have ' cookie?"

For lack of a better approach, Chelsea treated Caroline like the grown-up in the house. "There's orange juice and fruit punch," she instructed softly. "The chicken is already cooked. You can either eat it cold, or heat it a little. I've brought pita bread and wheat bread, so there's plenty for sandwiches. Here, let's wash this fruit. It'll be good if you get hungry later. Do you like strawberries?" The girl nodded somberly. "Good. Why don't you find a bowl. I'll hull them." Caroline stood on her tiptoes, took a chipped bowl from a cabinet, pa.s.sed it to Chelsea, then retreated. "I don't like strawberries," one of the twins complained. "What's these?" asked the other, emerging from the grocery bag with a miniature cheese wheel in either hand. "Look inside the bag, Caroline," Chelsea said. "There are several boxes of crackers. In a pinch, if you're starved and your mom hasn't come home yet, you can put the cheese on the crackers-"

"They'll be fed proper," came a voice from the door. Chelsea turned to face a large woman, to whom the twins instantly bounced. 382 The ralwons Of Chelsea Kane e brought cupcakes-"

pum'kins-" d half-moons-" ham." @,l hate ham. helsea wiped her hands and offered one. "I'm Isea Kane." know," said the woman. She was wearing jeans a jacket and had her thin, straight hair drawn a high ponytail. By bending over the twins, she able to ignore Chelsea's hand. Glady Beamis," Caroline said in a quiet ce from the far end of the counter.

@Chelsea shot her a grateful smile. To Glady she d, "Do you live nearby?" Th- -man straightened. "Next door."

"Ahhh. Good. Well, I just wanted to make sure ere was plenty of food in the house."

"We'd have made sure there was."

"I'm sure you would have. I guess I just wanted to o something to help."

Glady looked at Chelsea's stomach. 4That "Judd's?"

Chelsea wasn't showing any more than she had at morning, and the wind wasn't blowing here in e house, which meant that the men had already ked. She sighed. "No. I conceived before I came here. The baby's due at the end of January." The baby was actually due at the beginning of February, but her case against Judd being the father was more convincing this way. "January's a bad month to have a baby up here. There's nothing but snow and ice." I Chelsea chuckled. "It's a little late to be telling me that." 383 zarbwa Demnsky The twins started in again, each holding one of Glady's hands. "I like snow."

"'Specially making angels."

"'Specially making s...o...b..a.l.l.s."

"When was I born, Glady?"

"My ear hurts."