FORBIDDEN WEEKEND

CONSTANCE TODD

ISBN 1-891020-65-x

(c) copyright Connie Crow May 1999

Cover art by Tara Lynn

New Concepts Publishing

http://newconceptspublishing.com

This book is dedicated to all the men in my life, who’ve loved me, protected me, shown me the stars and convinced me they were mine for the taking.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or similar names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention; in other words, this is a work of fiction.

Chapter 1

Karen studied herself in the hotel room mirror. Her silky slip skimmed her curves nicely and her chestnut curls still bounced when she tossed her head. She could see Joe watching her, fiddling with his tie, standing behind her. She threw him a saucy smile, bounced a hip and asked, "Do I look like the mother of the groom?"

"You look like a pretty sexy mom to me," he answered, stepping up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. "Besides, you don't know that our son is getting married, yet."

She leaned back against his chest. Their eyes met in the mirror. They made a good looking couple. His Mediterranean dark hair, eyes and complexion balanced her creamy Midwestern skin and occasional freckles. Of course, gray wisps drifted through the dark at his temples, and his "love handles" suggested one too many plates of 'Mamma' Stevens' spaghetti and meatballs. Still, they really didn't look old enough to be the parents of a twenty-one year old, but they were. And they were here in Colorado Springs to see him graduate from the Air Force Academy.

"Of course I know. Mothers always know these things. Why else would he have asked us to fly out here so early?" Her smile dimmed. She turned her head, pressing it against his chest. "Makes me feel old, Joe. I'm not ready for Mark to be grown."

"Well, you're only as old as you feel," Joe murmured, nuzzling her neck, "and right now, you feel pretty good." He tightened his embrace, his blood warming, as it did whenever they were close.

Karen turned within the circle of his arms and slipped her own around his neck. "You're a nice man, Mr. Stevens," she whispered. "I remember why I keep letting you sleep with me." They kissed slowly and deliciously, moving even closer together, allowing the warm, sensual feelings of the moment to drift around them.

"But," said Karen, leaning back, "Mark will be downstairs soon – much to soon – to pick us up, and I have to finish dressing."

Joe smiled and nodded. "Hold those thoughts, woman – we'll continue this later."

He patted her rear affectionately. She turned to pick up her dress. He shook his head in wonder. She still could turn him to jelly with one of those great "come hither" looks. Not bad for twenty-one years.

She headed into the bathroom, shaking out her dress. She dropped it over her head, brushing out the few folds. Thank God for knit. The six-gored skirt flared gently, emphasizing her petite shape. Its jewel neckline and three-quarter sleeves suited her, and the turquoise matched her eyes. It was one of Mark's favorite outfits. She wanted to look extra special when she saw her son. They hadn't seen him since Christmas.

Joe busied himself with his sports jacket while Karen finished dressing. They had flown in from Anaheim, at Mark's request, almost a week before his graduation. He'd said only that he had a surprise for them, some people he wanted them to meet.

"So, miss mind reader, who're the mystery guests we're going to meet?" he asked, toward the door.

Karen's voice floated out of the bathroom. "Miss Right and her parents, of course. She must be in his class. Good heavens, they'll both be in the service. Do you realize, she could end up on one side of the world and he could end up on the other?"

Karen stepped out to face Joe, eyes wide at the prospect of her future daughter-in-law stationed in the far reaches of Thule, Greenland.

"Sit down," said Joe, laughing. "You don't know if there is a Miss Right, or if she's at the Academy, or if there's a wedding planned."

"Yes, I do know. He's always mentioned his current girl in his letters, until this year. He mentioned one last fall, and he hasn't said anything at all in months. There's something going on, I'm sure of it."

Joe laughed and kissed her cheek. "Mark better get here soon or you'll have him half way around the world, trying to reach his true love."

She smiled, picking up the filmy, multicolored silk scarf lying on the bed. She turned back to the mirror, flipping the scarf around her neck, fishing her earrings out of her travel bag. She quickly put them on and, as if on cue, the phone rang.

"Yes, operator — Tell him we're on our way down."

Hanging up the phone, she said, "Well, Dad, we timed that just right. We're ready and he's here. Let's go meet his surprise people."

Joe ushered her out the door, and down the walkway balcony of the Embassy Suites. Karen leaned over the balcony to see if she could catch a glimpse of Mark below.

This Embassy was typical of the franchise hotel chain. The building, built in a square, had an open courtyard through the entire center of the building's five stories. Every room opened onto the interior walkway balcony. The ground floor held a beautiful tropical garden, filling the center. Benches and tables throughout the garden, invited weary travelers to sit down, relax and contemplate the beautiful miniature trout stream meandering about. Walkways, paths and bridges led visitors to quiet spaces, tucked away in every corner. It was really quite romantic and restful. Fat, lazy trout glided effortlessly from one feeding spot to another. Nearly every guest took the time to throw a few crumbs to the silvery water creatures. Karen loved these hotels. She always stayed in them when she traveled. They offered a wonderful respite from the grind of book signings and reader greetings.

The glass-walled elevator ride down allowed a full view into the courtyard, but Mark was nowhere in sight. Finally, she spotted him, standing by the lobby desk, when the door opened. "Doesn't he look nice in his uniform, Joe? He really has grown and changed."

Joe nodded and waved. Mark saw them, grinned and crossed the front lobby in long strides.

"Mom – Dad – you look great. Gee, I'm glad you're here. How was your flight? Sorry I couldn't meet you at the plane. Is your hotel room okay?" The words tumbled out while he gave Karen a crushing hug, shaking hands with Joe at the same time.

"Thanks — fine — that's okay — and yes — I think, to answer all your questions," said Karen, laughing at his exuberance. "We're glad to see you, too."

Mark towered over both of them, his 6'4" far out-distancing her 5'3" or Joe's 5'11". A marvelous product of good nutrition and Air Force training, he was lean and hard. He made the perfect poster cadet; chestnut hair just showing under his hat, bright smile beaming and blue eyes just matching his dress blues.

"You didn't have to dress up for us, son," said Joe.

"I came straight from school. We had an inspection this afternoon. I didn't take time to change." Mark stepped between them, draping an arm around each. He guided them through the lobby, toward his waiting vehicle. He deposited Karen in the front seat. Joe climbed in back. He sprinted around the car, hopped in and took off saying, "We have to get going. I told Jenny we'd be at her place by six-thirty."

"Jenny?" Karen asked, throwing an "I told you so" look over the seat. Joe grinned back as she continued, "Is this your mysterious person we're going to meet?"

Mark glanced sheepishly at her, then quickly turned his eyes back to the road. "Well, she's one of them. We're going to have dinner at her parents' house. That's where we're going. I thought it was time you met my fiancée."

Mark held his breath, waiting for his mother's reaction. He glanced sideways, exhaling cautiously. She was half-smiling, biting the edge of her lip. When their gaze met, she said, "Is this really as sudden as it seems? You haven't mentioned her in your letters."

"No, not really. I was afraid that if I talked about her, you'd think I wasn't paying attention to my studies. I think I've managed pretty well." By this time, a broad smile danced around Karen's lips.

"What's so funny?" he demanded. "This is serious, Mom!"

"I know it is dear, but —"

"Your mother and I just had a discussion about this, son," Joe finished for her. "She's graciously not saying, 'I told you so'. She had you all figured out from the minute you asked us to come out early. You know you can't keep a secret from her for long."

"You're right, Dad," said Mark. "Mom's the only one who could ever keep a secret." He smiled at his mom, relieved she didn't seem too upset.

"Does Jenny have a last name?" asked Karen. "It would be nice to know it before we meet her."

"Oh, sure. It's Carlson. Jennifer Carlson. Her dad teaches at the Academy. They live here in Colorado Springs. I met her at an interschool dance at the community college last September. She's just finishing her second year there. You'll love her. She's smart and pretty and...what's wrong, mom?"

The smile disappeared from Karen's face and a small frown replaced it at the mention of Jenny's last name.

"I used to know a Carlson family years ago, dear. Long before I met your father. The name brought up some memories I don't generally disturb."

"It's just a coincidence, hon," Joe said, patting Karen's arm. "There are lots of Carlsons in this world."

Karen's smile returned, though a little less bright. "I'm sure you're right," she said, covering Joe's hand with her own, "and the Carlsons I knew were good people. It's a good name. Onward driver, let's meet your intended and her family."

"Oh Mom, it's not that big a deal. Don't get literary on me. We don't need to be in one of your books." The smile on Mark's face belied the firmness of his tone. He'd read most of her books, over her protests.

"Now dear, you're both too young to be in my books. Anyway, you know I never write about family." She laughed. "I wouldn't want to have my favorite son disown me."

Karen tried to remain excited as the car sped onward. A tiny dark thought tried to edge its way into her consciousness. She pushed it aside. She never expected to see any of the Carlsons again.

******

Jenny walked around the dining room table one more time, checking the crystal and china, making sure every detail was just right. The silver knife and fork clattered in her hand as she adjusted a place setting for the fifth time. "Leave it alone," she chided herself. "It looks fine."

She'd never met a famous writer before and Karen Stevens was certainly that. Mark had assured her she'd like his mom and his dad, Joe. He'd said they were just regular people, but one never knew about strangers, especially one's future in-laws.

She brushed a stray blond curl from her forehead. Her hair was a mass of golden curls, like her dad's. No matter what she did, the curls always ended up wherever they pleased. She brushed the curl aside again, hearing her mother's voice raise, upstairs. Well I've got Dad's hair. I hope I have his temper, or lack of it, as well.

Upstairs, Colonel David Carlson was trying very hard not to lose his patience. "I don't understand why you're so upset, Suzanne," he said quietly. "You agree Mark is a fine young man. He certainly comes from a well-to-do family. He's going to be an officer and Jenny is in love with him. She can finish school after they're married, you know that. What else do you want for her?"

"I want a great deal more for my daughter, David," said Suzanne sharply. "Where I come from, a mother who writes trashy novels and a father who's a literary agent don't make well-to-do parents. And while I agree that Mark may be an acceptable young man himself, Jenny is only twenty. Far too young to know her own mind when it comes to picking a husband."

"As I recall, that's the same age you were when we got married," David said, coolly.

"I would say that proves my point," said Suzanne. "I don't want Jenny to go through the lonely, empty years as a military wife like I did, to end up an academy teacher's wife."

She spat the words out as though they were too distasteful to keep in her mouth. "I want better for her than what I've ended up with." She stamped her foot impatiently to make her point.

"I'm sorry your life has been so terrible, Suzanne," David said, adjusting his tie. There was no reasoning with her, when she was in one of her moods. "You should have married someone with more ambition, I guess."

"Well, I certainly had the opportunity, you know that." She tossed her wavy blond locks away from her face, giving him one of her regal, down-the-nose stares. "Several young men wanted to marry me."

"Maybe you should have encouraged one of them more. You seemed eager enough to marry me, at the time."

"Oh, you're impossible," Suzanne said, quickly. "We're talking about Jenny and Mark, not you and I."

"Well, speaking of Jenny, I'm going down to see how she's doing," said David. "She's nervous as a cat and you're not helping things. I know you can be a wonderful hostess, Suzanne. I suggest you be one with your daughter's future in-laws, if you want to see her at all after she and Mark are married. I would say they're going to get married, no matter what you want. They certainly have my blessing."

With that, David turned on his heel and walked, almost marched, out of their bedroom. Suzanne plopped down at her dressing table, still fuming. "I know you can be a good hostess, Suzanne," she mimicked, surveying herself in the mirror. "Humph! mister high and mighty."

A shadow caught her eye. "Damn!" She leaned forward, touching the corner of her left eye. "Another wrinkle."

I'm too young for crow's feet. She sat back, looking intently at the image in the mirror. The blond woman looking back at her had a hard edge to her good looks. Nothing obvious, just a look as though she had not genuinely smiled for a long time. A grim expression, a few small vertical frown lines between her eyes, a permanently set jaw line, and a green-eyed gaze with a steely glint to it.

Of course, I'll be cha-a-rmin' to the great Authoress Karen Stevens, she mused. Any other time she would have been delighted to meet her. Suzanne did read Karen's books, although she had never admitted it to her family. She could not imagine how anyone could write such risqué love scenes, but she loved to read them. Fantasies had long since replaced the real thing between she and David.

The heroines in Karen's stories always kept the upper hand, and their men always kept after them, always attentive, always devoted, much like Ashley to Melanie in Gone With the Wind. It seemed to Suzanne that it ought to be that way in real life, too. But in her real life, reality intruded. Most of the men she knew had other interests, interests that kept them from being the attentive men she felt she deserved. David was no different. When he'd returned from Vietnam, his career took him away more and more. He was always going here or there; his skills were always in demand somewhere else. Being a military wife was nowhere near as glamorous or exciting as she'd imagined. An officer's wife was expected to be a good soldier too, and not be upset when her husband had to be gone. Keeping up the home front had not been on her list of things to do.

She frowned and squinted into the mirror again. The image intruded into her thoughts. She'd had to work much too hard, she thought. And David hadn't been much help. He seemed to expect her to show more enthusiasm for him and his work, more than she was willing to show or really felt. Letting men know how you really felt was never a good idea, as far as Suzanne was concerned. It left you too vulnerable and could cause you too much pain.

Besides, having a baby around seemed to complicate things. It had been baby makes three from the very beginning. Suzanne would have been perfectly happy to hire a nanny for Jennifer and turn the child-rearing activities over to her, as was done in truly civilized, wealthy homes.

It was David who insisted she do the mothering herself. It sapped her strength and left her more than mildly irritated with him. He seemed to care more about Jennifer than he did her. He had doted on his small, young daughter, bringing her presents from every trip, watching and enjoying her every activity.

Suzanne felt his attention should have been more properly lavished upon her. She was, after all, his wife. She had resisted his suggestion that perhaps Jennifer should have a sibling, that being an only child was not a good idea. One child was one more than she had ever wanted.

She had made sure that she would have no more children during one of his extended tours. She had been able to convince her doctor that she really would not be able to cope with more than one child. He was such an understanding man. So helpful and attentive.

She shook her head, remembering the scene when David had found out about the small surgical procedure. He didn't understand her unwillingness to have more children. His lingering disappointment, coupled with her disinterest in him, separated them further and further over the years. They drifted into leading essentially separate lives under the same roof. There were advantages to being an officer's wife and David seemed to be in no hurry to go anywhere else.

The green-eyed gaze turned to ice. Suzanne stared hard at her reflection, shaking her head. But now, her daughter was about to make the same mistake, and she was going to try to stop her, somehow. Jennifer had turned out to be an attractive, charming girl. At least she could try to see that her daughter made a more socially acceptable marriage — one that would put her into the upper levels of Colorado Springs society. If they were going to be here for the rest of their lives, they might as well join the best social circles. Jennifer was far too pretty to be wasted on a struggling, young lieutenant. She belonged at a young banker's elbow, perhaps.

Well, I'm not going to be standing there like one of the servants when the queen bee walks in. David can greet our guests. I'll greet them a little later. At that thought, a smile finally played across her face. She leaned back slightly and listened to the faint bustling downstairs.

******

"Do you think she'll come down soon, Dad?" asked Jenny, glancing toward the staircase.

"I honestly don't know, sweetheart", said David, giving her a hug. "Your mom loves you, no matter how upset she may get with me. She'll be fine and she'll be down, I'm sure."

"I don't know why she picks on you all the time," Jenny said, "I think you're great."

"Your momma always wanted to live in a big house over on Chelton Road, with a housekeeper and fine things. She was never satisfied being a colonel's wife. She doesn't think I'm ambitious enough."

"Well, I think she's wrong," Jenny said firmly, "and I love you just the way you are. Anyway, how do I look?"

She turned around in front of her father, holding out the softly pleated skirt of her pretty yellow and white summer cotton frock. Its tulip sleeves gently enfolded her shoulders and its deeply scooped neckline showed off her long, slender neck to great advantage. A thin gold chain lay gently around her neck. A gold filigree heart, set with a perfect jade oval, hung suspended from the chain; one of the presents her father had brought her, from one of his trips to the Far East.

"You look marvelous, darling," David said, appreciatively. Jenny was a very attractive young woman, with luminous green eyes, like her mother's. "I understand why Mark fell for you the first time he saw you. "

"Oh, Dad." Jenny blushed prettily at her father's compliment, pleased, nevertheless, at his assessment of her appearance.

Hearing the sound of gravel crunching in the driveway, he motioned to her and laughingly ordered, "Get the door, my dear, I think our company's here."

Jenny laughed and flipped him a sloppy salute. "Aye, Aye, sir. Anything you say, Colonel. I'll get the door, sir."

******

Jenny threw open the door at the bell. She held out her arms to Mark, saying to Karen and Joe, "Please come in, won't you? We're so glad you're here."

Mark gave her a quick hug and a kiss and crossed the hallway to David. "Good evening, sir. Good to see you again. I'd like you to meet my — Mother?"

The last was a question rather than a statement. He'd heard a small, strangled sound coming from behind him. Karen had taken a few steps into the hall and had stopped in her tracks, eyes transfixed on the two tall, blond people in front of her. Her hands flew to her mouth, muffling a tiny cry. The name wasn't a coincidence. And it wasn't John. It was David Carlson, in person.

David had a similar reaction. He took a step backward, as though he'd seen a ghost. He was dumfounded, unable to say a word. What was Michelle Woods doing standing in his hallway? Where did the name Karen Stevens come from? What kind of an awful joke was this?

"Michelle?" He struggled to get the name out.

Joe saw the split-second looks pass between them. He heard the name, out of Karen's past, echo from David's lips. She'd never used the name, since her first husband's death. He reached to take Karen's arm, but she'd already recovered and was smiling broadly at both Mark and David.

"Mark darling, you can't spring surprises like this on your old mom," she said brightly. She walked by him, patting his cheek in passing. "You've brought a ghost from Christmas past and you don't even know it." She continued to David, who was standing like a stone soldier.

"How are you, David?" she asked, holding out her arms, inviting a hug, "And how are you parents? It's been years and years since I've seen them and you. Lots and lots of things have happened to me, since then."

"Obviously, Michelle," he said weakly, following her lead, returning her hug. "Mother and Dad are in southern California, living in a retirement village. They're fine. I don't understand this at all. What...?"

She quickly touched her finger to his lips to stop any stray comments. "I'll explain to all of you," she said, her mind racing, hoping he would just keep still and listen.

Jenny and Mark stared at one another, stunned at David's calling Karen by a completely different name and even more stunned by her obviously answering to it. This certainly wasn't the introduction they had envisioned.

"Well, isn't someone going to introduce me?" asked Suzanne, a trifle loudly. She had come down when the door opened and was standing on the stairway landing — a tall, blond vision in a flowing silky shirt dress, a soft peridot green, that complimented her eyes. Its long full sleeves with button cuffs accentuated her graceful arms. Her entrance had been spoiled by David's reaction to the stranger, yet obviously not-a-stranger, in their hallway.

"Of course, " said Jenny quickly. "Mother, this is Mark's mother and father, Joe and Karen Stevens – My mother, Suzanne Carlson."

Suzanne came gracefully down the last short flight of stairs, reaching out a hand to Karen, "I've read all your books, Mrs. Stevens. You have such a vivid imagination."

"Thank you," Karen replied, taking Suzanne's offered hand and quickly releasing it, "but please, call me Karen."

Karen's mind raced, behaving as she did in any interview, making small talk while collecting her thoughts. "Could we sit down, for a little while? I'm sure David is just as surprised to see me as I am to see him. You all deserve an explanation."

David shook his head, coming out of his daze. "Of course, come into the living room."

The entire group moved into the formal living room. Karen sat in the big wingback chair by the fireplace. Joe stepped quietly behind her. Mark and Jenny squeezed onto the small settee, facing the open fireplace, where a fire gently glowed. Their gaze darted from one another to each parent, looking for some hint of explanation of the surprising turn of events.

Suzanne sat in the smaller chair on the opposite side of the fireplace and David stood, rubbing one hand across his mouth, in front of the fire. He couldn't force the smile he knew should be there, for appearance's sake. He didn't trust himself to look at Michelle while she talked. And he didn't want to look at Suzanne either. He had no idea of what Michelle intended to say.

"As you can tell, David and I knew one another, in almost another life," Karen started out gently. "I was Michelle Karen Woods then, only I never used 'Karen.' Karen is my real middle name." She looked up at Joe while she spoke. He nodded, patting her shoulder for encouragement, while a look of bewilderment hovered on his own countenance.

"My first husband, Eric Woods, and I moved in next door to John and Dorine Carlson, in Bellevue, Nebraska, years ago." She watched David intently and saw him straighten at the mention of his parents and Eric. "David's father, John, was stationed at Strategic Air Command Headquarters. David had just graduated from high school. We weren't too much older than he. David and Eric became great friends. We all used to go motorcycling together. That's how he died, David." She hesitated, hoping for a reaction.

"Died — " David echoed Karen's words, filling the space in her comment, shuddering at its sound.

"After you went to the Academy and your parents moved to the Rapid City airbase."

"Mmm." David nodded, unable to add any more.

She stopped. David turned, leaning his hands and head against the mantle, closing his eyes against the story she was relating to the others. Not a sound came from the rest as she continued. "Eric and I were riding. We got broadsided by a drunk in an Omaha intersection. Eric was thrown against a concrete pylon in the intersection and was killed outright. I was badly hurt, in bed for nearly six months. I went to stay with my sister to recuperate, and started writing seriously then. I wrote under a couple of different pen names. I finally settled on the name Karen Harrison just before I met you, darling," she said, reaching again for Joe's hand, "when you became my agent."

He gripped her hand closely and nodded for her to continue. "When Joe and I got married, I decide to switch to writing under my own new name, Karen Stevens, and have written under that name ever since." She stopped, waiting for what she had said to sink in with everyone.

"David, I know you have a lot to absorb tonight. I'm sure Eric's death and my re-appearance, with a new husband and a new name and a son, are a lot to handle all at once."

She stopped, waiting for some sign that he understood what she had just done. "Seeing you again has been a real surprise for me, I know."

"You're right, Michelle – I mean Karen. " David said slowly, into the fireplace. "But I'll be fine, just give me a minute." He took a deep breath, then turned to face the group. "I'm sorry about Eric. You must have missed him terribly. I remember how close you were."

"Thank you, David. I knew his death would be a shock. The three of us had some good times together."

"He was a very good friend, Michelle. The memories go back a long time." His eyes locked momentarily with hers, both understanding that for the time being, the past would stay buried with Eric.

He turned to face Joe. "And I'm not being a very good host, Mr. Stevens...

"Joe, please."

"Joe. Welcome to our home. You have a fine son. I'm delighted to meet you." He smiled at his daughter. "We've sort of overwhelmed your evening, darling. This was supposed to be your party, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir. It was." Mark spoke up quickly as he took Jenny's hand. "Jenny and I thought you all ought to meet one another, since we're all going to be related. We plan to be married as soon as I graduate."

"Oh, no!" gasped Suzanne. Jenny looked at her in horror. Suzanne struggled to regain her composure. Everyone was staring at her. She seemed to be the only one unhappy about the announcement of such a short engagement period. She groped for words. "I mean, dear, Mark's graduation is next weekend. We can't possibly put together a nice wedding in a week."

"Oh, Mom," laughed Jenny. "Big old fashioned weddings aren't my style. We may just get married under a tree in the park, like some of our friends already have. Or we could just run down to the Justice of the Peace."

"You can do whatever you want, sweetheart," said David firmly, "The setting doesn't matter. We'll be there, if you want us." He would not let anything spoil his daughter's happiness. She was the only thing in the world that really meant anything to him at this point in his life.

"We want you all there," Mark said quickly. "Mom — Dad — I thought maybe you two could stay a couple more days after graduation, for the wedding. That's why I asked you to come early, so you'd have time to rearrange things," he said, addressing Karen. He knew her schedule was the one to be worked around. Karen stood up, arms outstretched toward Jenny and Mark. "Of course we'll stay, darling. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Mark and Jenny rose to meet her hugs. "We can rearrange things, can't we Joe?"

"Sure," he said, joining the group. The Carlsons seemed to be nice people and his son seemed happy. Whatever Mark wanted to do was fine with him.

David stepped up to hug Jenny, as the Stevens enfolded Mark. He gave Suzanne a meaningful stare over Jenny's shoulder. Suzanne had not budged. He didn't want her to cause a scene and spoil the evening. She finally stood up slowly and joined them, giving her daughter a hug. A tear slid down her face.

"Mothers of the bride are allowed to cry," she said defiantly, sniffling away the tear. The remark was aimed at David. "I just want you to have the best of everything, darling." she said to Jenny. "I'd always dreamed of a big, beautiful wedding for my beautiful baby."

Jenny put her arms around her mother. "It will be beautiful, mom. You'll see. It just won't be a production. It'll be what we want. We'll be happy with it."

Suzanne nodded, pulling a tissue from the sleeve of her dress. She always kept one tucked there for emergencies. David stepped into the quiet that had settled upon the group. "I believe dinner is waiting. Mark and Jenny, would you lead us to the dining room?"

As they passed, he extended his elbow to Karen. "Would you join me, Karen?" he asked, very correctly. They followed Jenny and Mark across the foyer into the candle-lit dining room.

Joe followed suit, extending an elbow to Suzanne, saying, "This has been quite an evening so far."

"You're so right, Mr. Stevens." Suzanne, smiled mechanically, her hostess experience kicking in.

The flickering candlelight beckoned them into the dining room. Jenny had her mother's flair for the dramatic. Suzanne arched an eyebrow in her daughter's direction when she noticed the fresh flower bouquets gracing the sideboards.

"I thought you'd like them, Mom. You always say fresh flowers make the occasion." Jenny's grin spread wide.

Suzanne had to agree. Those were her words coming out of her daughter's mouth. "They're beautiful, darling. You're becoming quite a decorator."

"You take after your Grandmother Dorine, as well, Jenny." said Karen. "She always had beautiful flowers in the house, remember David? I could never put two flowers in a vase and have them look like they belonged together. She tried to teach me how, but the lessons never took."

David nodded, the memories of his mother's talents sneaking in. Jenny smiled at the praise, "I'd like to be like Gramma Carlson. She's a real peach – although I don't get to see her much, since they moved to California."

Jenny had carefully planned the entire evening. She signaled for the dinner to begin. The help hired for the evening seated them and served the meal effortlessly.

"Did you know Mother Carlson well, Karen?" asked Suzanne.

"As well as you ever know military neighbors, I imagine," Karen answered. "I knew Dorine a lot better than I knew John. He was away a lot. He was on the Inspector General's staff at the time, so he traveled extensively. I'm sure you know about that, Suzanne."

"Yes, David has had to be gone much of the time. It's something you'll have to deal with, Jenny. You'll want to think about that, dear."

David shot Suzanne an icy stare. She returned it in kind but dropped her voice.

"We have been talking about that, Mrs. Carlson." said Mark. "But it's not quite the same as when you and Col. Carlson were married. Most of the places I'd be sent to, Jenny could go with me. So she wouldn't be left here like you had to be."

"Hmm. " Suzanne arched another eyebrow. "That would be much better, if it really works out that way, dear."

Karen watched as the evening passed. Jenny was a very self-confident young woman. She'd make an excellent officer's wife. She was very much like her grandmother. Karen had learned much about military life from her, during the summer they were neighbors. Jenny seemed to be at ease with strangers and genuinely friendly. She'd need that, if she were to be an officer's wife. That tiny dark cloud tried to force its way into Karen's mind again. She firmly pushed it back. She'd deal with that dark thought later.

"Well," said Jenny, "shall we adjourn to the den for coffee and drinks?"

"Whatever you say, dear." David smiled. The evening had been surprisingly pleasant, thanks to his daughter's skill. Pride swelled in his chest. She'd make Mark a fine wife. And with mark second in his class, he'd be a fine officer, and hopefully a good husband.

Jenny laughed. "Paul, would you serve coffee in the den please?" The waiter bowed stiffly and returned to the kitchen. Jenny stood up. "Shall we go?"

The group retraced its steps to the hall and filtered into the den, each one snuggling into the inviting, overstuffed leather furniture waiting there.

The waiter appeared, with a tray full of wine glasses and a bottle of champagne. The maid followed with the silver coffee service. She set it down on the coffee cart and left.

David glanced at the waiter. "Paul, why don't you pour us all a glass of champagne. This evening deserves a toast."

"Yes, sir." The waiter quickly poured the six glasses, served them and left the room.

"Now then," said David, lifting his glass, "I propose a toast – to our wonderful children. May they be happy the rest of their lives, and nothing come between them."

"Hear, hear," echoed Joe. The rest raised their glasses, then polished off their champagne.

Jenny spoke up. "I think we should all have some coffee, before you leave – just to finish off the evening." She deftly poured the coffee. "See mom, just like Gramma Carlson taught me."

Suzanne nodded. It had never occurred to her that Mother Carlson had been preparing Jenny for military life, but it certainly seemed that her influence was coming out now. The evening would end soon. She would have much to say later to Colonel David Carlson. This was happening entirely too fast. Particularly after the revelation that David and Mark's mother were old friends. She didn't relish the thought of being in-laws with one of David's "old friends."

Chapter 2

Jenny snuggled contentedly against Mark. It had been a pleasant ride back from dropping his folks at their hotel. "I truly liked your mom and dad. You were right. They are just ordinary folks."

Mark laughed. "I told you they were."

"And to think my dad and your mom knew one another. If my dad had just graduated from high school when he knew your mom, he would have been about 18. How old was your mom, then?"

Mark thought a little, then answered, "she would have been 27, I think." He paused again. "Yeah, that's right, she's fifty-two and dad's fifty-six."

"Really? I thought your mom was the same age as my mom. She sure looks as young as my mom."

"I'll tell her that," he said, laughing. "She'll be pleased."

"Well for heavens sake, don't tell my mom I said that. She'd have a fit. Your folks were older when you were born, weren't they?"

"A little. I guess I knew mom had been married once before but it's never, ever mentioned. It never seemed important, before."

"Well, it's not important now, either," Jenny declared as they turned into the drive. "Since they did know one another, it should just make things easier. They're not all strangers, like some in-laws."

"Deep thoughts for a beautiful mind," he said, switching off the car and slipping his arms around her.

"Mmmmm," was all that escaped as she raised her lips to his waiting mouth. He kissed her, full and hard, hungry for her.

She shifted slightly in his arms as he kissed her again, this time more tenderly. His tongue traced the edge of her upper lip, very delicately, then sliding ever so gently between her barely parted lips.

She leaned back and said reluctantly, "You'll have to be content with just kisses tonight, my love. I'm really not feeling well. This evening's been a real drain."

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked gently. "No morning sickness?"

"No," she said quietly. "The baby's still our little secret. After we're married, I won't care if mom starts to count months. It won't matter."

"I guess we should have been more careful. Your mom's really not happy about the rush."

"She'll get over it. It doesn't bother me, if it's all right with you." She waited for his response, looking him straight in the eyes.

He pulled her close again. "Of course it's all right with me. The sooner the better! I want you and our baby more than anything else in the world. And you know that!" He kissed her again and she returned his kiss eagerly. She knew his feelings full well, she just needed to hear him say the words again.

He finally asked, "Shall I just go for now?"

"She nodded. "I think so. We have all the time in the world ahead of us. One night won't make any difference."

They walked hand in hand to her front door. Dad had even turned the light off, so they would have some privacy on the porch. She wondered if Mom knew that he always turned it off, after she made a point of turning it on.

"So you can see to get in." She would always say.

Their final kiss was a long, hungry kiss. Their bodies strained to be together as their minds kept them apart for now. "I love you, Jenny," Mark whispered into her hair.

"I love you too, Mark, darling," she whispered back. "Don't worry, everything's going to be fine. You'll see. Mom will come around."

"You're an optimist, just like my mother." He smiled, watching her unlock the door. "Goodnight, Jen-Jen." He gave her one last, quick kiss and turned to go.

"Good night yourself, lover."

Jenny reluctantly closed the door, after watching him walk back to his car. She leaned against the door, clicking the lock in place, listening for her parents. Only the night lights were on. Evidently they were already in bed. Perhaps it had been peaceful while she had been gone. All things considered, the evening had been a success.

She walked quickly up the stairs and into her room. She needed to sleep.

******

David heard her door close. He lay still and straight in his twin bed. Suzanne was finally asleep in the other twin. The scene had been anything but peaceful after Jenny had left with Mark and his parents. Suzanne had barely let the door close, when she turned on him.

"Well, David, what's the rest of this story?" Suzanne was enjoying herself "You've never mentioned this old friend. What was she to you, back in Bellevue, when you were just a boy? Looks like the Mrs. Robinson-type to me!"

"Stop it, Suzanne. Every word Michelle — Karen said was true. I was just a kid then. And she was very happily married to Eric." He was grateful for Karen's careful telling of the story. He could indeed say that everything she said was the truth.

"Then why were you so shocked to see her? You acted like you had some deep, dark secret to hide."

"There you go again, always imagining things," he said, getting more comfortable as he talked. "The woman is using a completely different name. I had no idea the author Karen Stevens was the Michelle Woods I used to know. That was a real shock. I had no idea she was remarried. And I had no idea she was Mark's mother!"

David turned to face Suzanne, deciding to take this one step further. "But, I'll tell you the truth. I would have loved to have had her mean something more to me from back then. I had a terrific crush on her the summer I lived beside them. And she didn't give me the time of day. Eric knew it and he just laughed at me — told me I had to get in line — that lots of guys thought Michelle–Karen was great. And he was right, Suzanne, she was great. But she was in love with him. There's nothing more to tell." He had ascended the staircase as he spoke, with Suzanne following close behind. "They were a super couple. It's a shame he got killed."

"Well, she certainly seems to have an — interesting past to say the least. I told you they weren't the kind of people Jenny needs to be involved with." She couldn't resist one last jab.

"They're exactly the kind of people Jenny should be involved with." he shot back. "My friend Eric is dead. Michelle is remarried. They seem to be happy and they're Mark's parents. That's all there is to it." He smashed his fist into the bedroom door, flinging it open as he finished, surprising Suzanne with the outburst.

She opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. He did seem genuinely moved by his friend's death and by the evening's events. He rarely showed any forceful emotion, especially physical.

She let the atmosphere cool a little while they silently changed into night clothes, carefully not interfering with one another's routine. Then, she started again to speak her mind.

"I still don't approve of such a hasty marriage. We can't invite friends for a wedding in a week. They'll never be able to come. What will people think? A wedding under a tree in the park! Indeed! And what about your parents? And mine? They'll be devastated to miss their granddaughter's wedding. You know that."

David considered the last remark. He didn't care at all about what other people might think, but Suzanne was right about his parents and hers. They all adored Jenny, just as he did. Finally he said, "You're right about the folks. I'll speak to Jenny. Surely a few days won't make that much difference. But, as independent as those two are, we're lucky they didn't just head down to the local justice and tell us afterwards."

She could not resist one more comment. "Good. Every day we delay them gives her one more day to change her mind. Maybe I can still talk some sense into her, if you won't."

David let the remark slide by and Suzanne slipped into her bed on the far side of the room. They still shared the same room, for "appearances sake" even though they had opted for twin beds years ago.

Walking into the bathroom, he marveled at how easily he had told Suzanne the first part of the story. Karen had set things up well, she had always been quick. She made it possible for him to tell the truth and yet tell Suzanne nothing at all. She had protected her family and his.

And he knew he would go out of his mind if he had to be around her. He was amazed and appalled at the feelings raging within him. His body ached with remembrance, so deep he shook all over; even though their last parting had been angry and hurtful; even though more than twenty years had passed; even though she was obviously happily married to someone else. He thought he had put her completely out of his mind. He thought he had sealed himself away from ever having feelings of such intensity for anyone, after their last meeting.

He could still smell the wet, cut-grass clippings and feel the humid, overbearing heat of the first time he set eyes on Michelle, on that torrid mid-June Nebraska day, so many years ago. Staring into the mirror, the memories flooded in. The remembered rake handle bit into his clinched fist as he stood there, being drawn back into the scene of years ago. Against his will, the picture of himself, young, blond and bronzed by the Nebraska sun, formed in his mind and in the mirror, as though it were today.

******

His back ached and his hands hurt from raking grass clippings. He clawed up another soggy, wet clump of cut grass. It made no sense to him to spend good money and time fertilizing and watering grass in this hot, hostile state, then spend even more time cutting and throwing the grass away. One day the humidity could be higher than the temperature, the next day, it could be so dry the dust would blow from the flower beds. But David knew there was no arguing with his father.

"Have to keep the yard up, David. Never know who might be your neighbors around here."

His dad was very rank conscious. But all military people were. And David knew his dad was right. Your personal life wasn't really your personal life if you were in the Air Force. Even his early grades at school had been the subject of discussion. But that was past. He had just graduated at the top of his class and had received an appointment to the Air Force Academy. His parents were pleased that he was continuing the military tradition of the family, especially in this time of turmoil, what with protesters outside the base gates nearly every day.

And the house next door had just sold, probably to military people. This housing development was very close to the base, within the five minute limit required of all essential personnel like his father. The real estate agent had put up a SOLD sign yesterday. David was anxious to see who was going to move in, even though he wouldn't be there long. He would be leaving in the fall for the Academy.

He looked up, startled, to hear a dull-rattle-roar coming over the hill towards the house. That was unusual. Vehicles were normally very quiet in this neighborhood. A big Harley-Davidson Electra-Glide topped the hill, and continued down the street, directly toward him. The bike rider and a passenger lounged in the spacious seats. The passenger leaned back against the trunk behind her, letting her hair blow free in the breeze. He let out a low whistle as the bike pulled into the drive next door. Dad'll have a fit if the kids next door have Harleys.

He watched, spellbound. The big bike shuddered, coughed and died as the driver killed engine. He stood up over the bike, balancing it, to allow the passenger to dismount. David switched his attention from the bike to the girl getting off the back. His gaze riveted on her.

Wow, I hope her folks bought the house, not his. He gave her a quick once over. The blood started to pound in his temples as he stared at her.

She totally focused on brushing the stray dust from her cut-off blue jeans. Her hands ran over the front of her shorts, dusted off the back, then slid down the front of her skin tight tube top.

David found himself wishing mightily they were his hands helping to remove the offending dust. He felt himself reddening, heat rising up his neck, realizing she had nothing on under that pink tube top. Small perfect bumps appeared under the material when she skimmed her hands unselfconsciously over her chest.

She looked like a pixie come to life, petite and bouncy, with a beautiful laugh that echoed off the house. "Hurry, Eric. I want to at least peek in the windows."

She reached up, running her fingers through that mane of chestnut colored hair, blown wild by the ride. The young man had rocked the big bike forward on its stand and climbed off. He smiled at her. "Don't worry, Michelle, we can do more than that. I have the key."

She ran up the stairs to the door and excitedly danced in place as Eric followed. "Go on in," he said, unlocking the door. "I'll be right there."

Eric turned and started toward the young man standing in the next yard who was trying to recover his composure, trying not to stare. Eric had seen that look before, when people met his wife for the first time.

"Hi," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Eric Woods. My wife, Michelle, just went inside. I guess we're going to be neighbors."

David, swallowed hard, then shook Eric's offered hand. "I'm David Carlson, sir. My folks and I live here." He couldn't help himself. "She's your wife? She doesn't look old enough to be married to anybody."

David faltered and blushed, trying to cover his obvious disappointment, embarrassed at being so forward with a stranger. But he knew this was not a military man. Not with that hair cut.

"I know," Eric laughed. "The people at the college think she's one of my students. We do a lot of explaining."

"You're a teacher?" David asked, trying to extend the conversation, hoping the vision would come back outside.

"Yes. I teach math at Bellevue College." Eric turned as the door scratched against its sill. "Michelle, come here a minute. Meet one of our neighbors."

She came toward them, eyes shining like gemstones, turquoise blue in the afternoon sun. She was pleased with her new house. "Oh Eric, there's a room for your study and a room for my sewing room and just — oh, — room for everything."

Eric slipped his arm around her, gave her a quick kiss and released her just as fast. "There ought to be room for everything with just the two of us in nine rooms. Michelle, meet David Carlson. David — Michelle."

She smiled directly at him, lighting up his sky with her smile. The smile turned into an ornery grin as Eric continued, "David doesn't think you look old enough to be married to an old guy like me."

"Oh, I didn't mean that, sir," David protested, but she laughed that wonderful laugh again and waved her hand.

"Don't worry, David, he's just kidding you. It's a problem — looking like you're sixteen when you're twenty-seven. I spend a lot of time proving who I am and how old I am. Come on, Eric," she urged, taking his hand. "I want to show you the house. It's been nice to meet you, David," she said, signaling the end of the conversation.

As Michelle dragged Eric toward the house, he looked over his shoulder and shouted back. "See you later, we're going to be around a while."

Leaning on his rake, David watched them enter the house, shoving the door solidly closed.

"Well, what do you think?" Michelle threw her arms open wide. "Didn't I tell you there's lots of room."

They stood in the empty living room surveying their new home. Eric slipped his arms around Michelle's waist and pulled her tightly to him. He smiled down into her eyes and said, "Yes, there's plenty of room. And I think you've done it again, bright eyes. I can tell the young man next door thinks you're wonderful. I would guess he has an instant crush on you."

Michelle wrapped her arms around his neck and replied, "Don't be silly. At his age, he'd have a crush on the door post if it had long hair and short shorts. Besides, a kid as good looking as he is probably has to beat girls off with a stick. He doesn't have time for an old married lady like me."

"A pretty special married lady," said Eric, bending to kiss her again, this time much more possessively.

Michelle was wrong on both counts. Through the curtainless picture window, David could see them kiss. David was a shy young man, with occasional girlfriends, but no strong attachments to clutter his bound-for-the-Academy life. His sexual adventures up to this point consisted of some rather ordinary necking with his current girl friend and some more graphic fantasies concocted after sneak-reading borrowed copies of Playboy magazine.

He saw them separate, then head toward the back of the house. He turned away, and disappeared into his own house, his own downstairs room. He knew the layout of that house as well as he knew his own. They were nearly all alike in this subdivision. He didn't want to imagine them in their own bedroom.

Eric was so right. David had fallen hard for Michelle. Right then, with one look and one beautiful smile. His youthful, raging hormones hit a new high. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He finally got up and headed into the downstairs bathroom. A cold shower would get rid of the sweat, the dirt, and maybe the hot, hot feelings that were coursing through his body. He couldn't go to the supper table with a "hard-on". Mom would never understand.

The ice cold water droplets beat onto his steamy skin. He heard the roar of the Harley again. They were leaving. David could tell this was going to be a long, hot summer.

******

The image in the mirror aged and David stared at himself again. Indeed, the summer had been wonderful and terrible at the same time. He and Eric had become great friends. Eric was like the big brother he never had. And Michelle accepted his adoration, while never allowing it to go beyond the dream stage. Eric adored her and she adored Eric. David accepted that fact. And it made him love her more. He hoped that someday, someone would love him as much as Michelle loved Eric.

They had, of course, been invited to his off-to-college party. They'd given him an engraved money clip, full, along with wishes for success. Michelle had put her arms around his neck and he had bent down to allow her to plant a kiss on his cheek. His hands touched her tiny waist, every so lightly, as she wished him well.

She might as well have branded his cheek with a hot iron. She was his perfect vision of woman, lovely and loving. The girls he knew seemed childish and shallow by comparison.

They sent him off to school and he got on with his life. He threw himself into becoming the best officer he could, in order to live up to his own goal of becoming an aviator, his dream since he had been a small boy, listening to the late night signoff on TV, the pilot "slipping the surly bonds of earth and dancing through clouds on laughter covered wings." He had known since then he wanted to fly planes, more than anything else in the world. He knew they needed pilots for the widening war and he intended to be one of them. He lost track of her when his folks moved to South Dakota, to his dad's next assignment. He'd almost finished at the Academy when he met her again.

David raised his hand to his cheek, rubbing it hard, shoving it into his teeth until it drew blood, to bring himself back to the present, to erase the memories. He could still trace the outline of that first kiss, 25 years later.

He silently cursed his body for betraying him, for responding to this meeting with Michelle differently than his mind wished it to. He angrily slipped out of his pajamas and walked toward that icy cold shower, that had controlled his reaction to Michelle when he was young. It would work again. It would take away the unwelcome, even offending, pulsing hardness in his groin.

He had no wish to share the "uprising" with Suzanne. She would refuse him, if he approached her. This unexpected event would prove to her that her suspicions were correct. Standing under the cold, stinging spray, gritting his teeth, he allowed one small tear to silently roll from the corner of his eye, to join the water rolling from his face. One tear of regret for Eric, of anger for Michelle (he would never easily call her Karen) and most of all, one tear of heartache for himself.

He dressed slowly and finally crawled back into bed. He hated to think about sleep. He did not want to sleep. He knew if he did, he would dream of that very special, secret time, that only the two of them knew about. Their very special forbidden weekend.

******

"Do you suppose Mark got home all right?" Karen stood by the window, looking out toward the hotel parking lot.

"He probably drives that road every night, hon," Joe said patiently. "It's not going to be any different because we're here."

"I know," said Karen, smiling, "but I did upset their evening a little."

"If it will make you feel any better, call him. We can afford the phone call. Let him kid you for checking up on him. You'll feel better."

She smiled at him as she picked up the receiver.

"I think I will," she said, dialing, then listening to the phone ring on the other end.

"Hello, darling," she said into the handset. "Just making sure you got home all right. Yes I know, that's just what your father said. Yes, I do feel better. You're going to pick up your dad in the morning, right? Good night to you, too. Love you, Mark. Bye."

"Better now?" asked Joe, patting the bed beside him.

"Don't you hate it when you're always right?" she asked, smiling, as she came toward the bed.

He laughed, and held out his arms, saying gently, "Come on little woman, you've had a busy day."

She crawled in beside him, letting him enfold her in his loving arms. She hadn't even finished snuggling in when the tears started to fall. She was exhausted and had held her composure as long as she could.

"I wondered when you were going to let go," he said, as she clung to him.

"I didn't think I had any tears left," she said, crying quietly, "Those memories are still painful, all these years later."

"It hurts to see David, doesn't it," Joe guessed. "He reminds you of lots of things from long ago."

"Oh yes," she said "many, many things that should stay in the past."

"Well, let's try to put them back in the past," he said quietly. "Let me bring you back to the present."

They slid down into the bed. He pulled her even closer to him and began to kiss away her tears, very, very softly.

"Oh, Joe," she murmured, letting herself go with his feelings. "Love me. Remind me of what a wonderful life we have."

"Whatever you want," he mumbled, his mouth closing over hers. Their bodies stretched together, closer and tighter. Joe's desire began to pulse again and he swelled against her. He slid his hand along the curve of her shoulder, catching the silken strap of her gown. He traced butterfly kisses along her neck and down her shoulder. His tongue sought the hollow of her throat as he gently nudged her gown down, exposing her invitingly full breasts. She moaned quietly and rolled her head backward, slowly raising her chest to his tantalizing tongue.

He nuzzled each pink nipple 'til it was standing stiff with desire and anticipation. His hands continued down her trembling body, trying to bring her pleasure in every way he knew how. He wanted to replace the memories of the past, of the pain he knew she had endured and of the pain at which he could only guess.

She finally began to respond, moving in time with his caresses. As she moved, she reached for the cord holding his pajamas. With a tug and a pull they came loose, sliding down at her push to leave him naked against her.

His mouth again closed over hers. His tongue slid into the space between her lips. She resisted slightly, teasing, holding him out, then sucking him in. His hand slid gently between her inner thighs. He caressed her, drawing his finger tips against one tingling surface, then slowly along the other. She trembled as her legs parted, allowing him to feel her swollen moistness.

He stretched out completely over her. Then, balanced above her, he moved down to touch her with his throbbing shaft. She arched high to meet him. "Oh, yes, Joe, yes" she whispered, breathlessly, parting her legs even further to receive him. He lowered himself, pulsing his hips gently, tempting her even more.

She began to rock her hips in time with him. Her fingers unconsciously wrapped around his hip bones, raising her hips to receive his pulses. Meaningless love sounds escaped her lips as she anticipated his next touch. He descended full force, surging with an ecstasy made even better for the waiting. Their bodies matched pulse for pulse, spasm for spasm until both were exhausted.

He finally rolled to his side, taking her with him, unwilling to separate, holding her close. She clung to him, wanting to stay as one for as long as possible. She did love him. He had been her life and her love for a long time.

Joe finally drifted off to sleep. Karen carefully pulled up the covers. Rolling away, she lay there, staring at the ceiling. He was such a good man. He deserved better than what she was about to do to him. So did her son. But her small indiscretion of the past may have just caught up with her. She had to find out the truth. Even if the truth would destroy all of the men she loved.

The past crowded in on her. The memories of David forced themselves once again into her mind. Everything she'd said tonight had been the truth, as far as she had gone. Except for one small thing. It wasn't the first time David had heard the story of Eric's death. The details of their meeting, four years after Eric's death were still crystal clear in her mind. As she stared into the darkness, the bookstore in Colorado Springs again became real.

******

Colorado Springs 1974

Karen's hand ached from signing autographs. She hadn't realized how grueling having a best seller could be. She'd been on tour for three weeks, working her way back from New York. She'd come to Denver and decided to do a session in the Springs as well. As her agent, Joe Stevens was pleased. The more books she signed, the more they sold.

But still, he wanted her to come back to Anaheim. She didn't want to tell him she was deliberately taking her time coming back. She needed time to think–to consider his proposal.

Four years didn't seem like much. It seemed like only yesterday that Eric had been killed. But Joe was probably right, she couldn't continue to live in the past. She had to get on with her life. And she had no doubt that Joe loved her.

He'd been with her most of that time–first acting as her agent, handling her stories while she was recuperating, then getting closer and closer to her, urging her on. He became her number one promoter as she wrote more and more, getting better and better, until, now she had her first best seller. They had become best friends, then lovers. They were good together. She owed him a lot. But she wasn't sure she would make him the kind of wife he deserved. She still had some thinking to do.

All this rumbled around in her head, while she signed book after book, smiling at one person after another. Then her pen stopped, mid-letter—

"Michelle? Michelle Woods? Is that really you?"

Karen looked up into azure blue eyes, that just matched the Air Force blue dress uniform standing in front of the book table. She blinked, then burst into a glowing smile of recognition.

"David Carlson. Of all people! How are you?" She dropped the unsigned book on the table.

"Please, Miss Harrison — my book?" The customer tapped the book a little impatiently.

"Certainly, I'm sorry. Please wait, David," She implored. He nodded as Karen hurriedly scribbled a note to her fan. While she wrote, David's eyes drank in the sight of her like a man dying of thirst sucks up discovered water. He was delighted to see her again.

He had tried to put her out of his mind, these college years, while finishing his schooling. Most of the time he had succeeded. He was scheduled to graduate in three weeks, then he was scheduled for pilot training. He had no one else in his life at the moment. None of the girls he'd met stood up to his silent comparison of them to Michelle.

Oh, he had dated and experimented, along with the rest of his classmates. Several girls had tried to hold his attention, but none of them had ever come close to his memories and vision of Michelle. And here she was again. He knew he had to talk to her. He couldn't just walk away from her after a quick conversation in this store.

"Can you get away for a cup of coffee?" he asked, when she was through signing. "Could we talk?"

"I'd love to," she said, turning up the 'Be Back Soon' sign. "My hand is about to fall off."

"There's a coffee shop next door."

"That sounds fine. Let's go." Karen was amazed at how he had grown in the last three and a half, almost four, years. He towered over her now, and cut quite a figure in his uniform. She remembered how he used to follow her around, willing to do anything she asked. She doubted that he followed anyone around now. The girls probably did the following.

"Why the name, Karen Harrison?" he asked as they walked next door. "I'd have never known it was you."

"Oh, I'm writing under a pen name. Publishing companies sometimes insist on that for your first book or two. Maybe someday I'll be famous enough to write under my own name."

She laughed as they walked into the coffee shop. David ordered espresso for them, then asked casually, "How's Eric? Is he still teaching?"

The look on Karen's face instantly told him something was wrong.

"No, he's not." She hesitated, then continued quietly, "He was killed right after your parents moved to Ellsworth Air Base."

She stopped, taking a deep breath.

"Oh, Michelle, I'm so sorry." He reached out spontaneously and covered her hand. "I didn't know."

She turned her hand and grasped his. "I know, David. You couldn't have known. We were in a dreadful motorcycle accident. He didn't make it. You remember the concrete pylon in the "L" Street Bridge Intersection, in South Omaha?"

David nodded.

She continued haltingly, determined to get through the story, "We got broadsided by a drunk. Eric was thrown into the pylon. He hit his head. You know how he hated helmets."

David nodded again, remembering Eric's refusal to wear the hated headgear. Michelle continued. "He had a skull fracture and a broken neck. He died before they could get him to a hospital."

She gripped his hand tightly, and put her other hand over her eyes, unable to go on.

"Michelle, don't. I don't need to hear the story. I'm sure it's still awful for you." David tried to comfort her and absorb the loss of his friend at the same time.

She looked up, tears glistening, "Actually, I'm pretty good most of the time. But telling the story still gets to me."

"Were you hurt?" he asked, moving his chair closer to her, taking both her hands in his, his eyes searching hers for answers.

"Yes. I hit the street and slid. Luckily my head didn't hit the pavement as bad and I didn't hit anything solid, like Eric. I ended up with a concussion, a broken leg, and a cracked pelvis."

"Michelle, you're lucky to still be alive," he said fervently.

"I didn't think so at the time. When I woke up, I was in body and leg casts and Eric was gone. As far as I was concerned, my life was over. I wished desperately that I had died with him."

"Well I'm glad you didn't. And Eric wouldn't have wanted that either," His voice shook with the intensity of his emotion. So much so that she smiled. Encouraged by the smile, he continued, "But how did you get here?"

"In a nutshell, I went to my sister's to recuperate. I started writing seriously in between therapy sessions. I got connected with a great agent, who sold my writing to the right people. And here I am, with a big hit finally." She became aware that they were still holding hands in the coffee shop. People were beginning to stare. She gently released her grip and stood up, brushing away the stray tears.

"And I have to get back. My public awaits," she said with a flourish and a smile. He dropped two bills on the table for the coffee. She noticed that he still carried the money clip she and Eric had given him years earlier. "I'm surprised you're still carrying that."

He smiled and flipped the clip over in his hand. "It reminds me of the good times. And it keeps track of my money, what little I have."

"Yes, they were good times, weren't they? And college students never have any money, do they?"

He laughed again. "Not much. But I'll have my commission in a few weeks. Lieutenants make much more that college students. Especially pilots."

"Goodness. I'm not sure I'm ready for you to be 'all grown up,' David." She looked up again into those blue, blue eyes.

"Well, ready or not, I am." He smiled down at her.

Surprisingly, her heart did a little hop-skip. He certainly had turned into a very handsome young man, and more charming than she remembered from years past, certainly more self-confident.

He walked out with her, back to the bookstore, At the door he touched her arm. "Well, at least let me take you to dinner tonight, if you're in town by yourself. There's no reason for you to sit all alone in a hotel room."

She looked up at him, surprised. Sensing her hesitancy, he hurried to reassure her. "I'm not a kid anymore, Michelle." He said, trying to sound extremely adult. "I'm going to graduate in three weeks and go off to pilot training. I'll probably end up flying in Vietnam. If I can do that, I can surely take you to dinner."

"You're absolutely right," she agreed, surprised at the feelings bubbling inside. A dinner invitation sounded wonderful about now. "I'm just not used to this new, mature you, David. But I'd love to go to dinner. Hotel rooms are very lonely when you're the only one there. Pick me up at the store after it closes, okay?"

He nodded. "I'll be there."

She waved, disappearing into the bookstore.

Chapter 3

David raced to his apartment to change. Once home, he searched his closet for decent civilian clothes, something that didn't scream college student and found nothing. His Air Force uniform was his only dress outfit. That wouldn't do at all. He fussed so much, his roommate felt the need to comment

"O-o-oh, look at the stud," crowed Jack. "What's gotten into you ol' buddy? Or rather, who you gettin' into? I've never seen you so fussy. Who is she?"

"None of your business, old buddy," David shot back, while he brushed a speck of lint off his almost-dress pants. He straightened his shirt collar and examined his one decent tennis sweater in the mirror. "I'm taking a lady to dinner. But, you wouldn't understand that."

Jack laughed. "I understand all right. I understand you're prancin' like a dog penned up next to a bitch in heat. Like I said, who is she? Do I know this 'lady'?"

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Morrick, you don't! She's a friend of the family, in town on business. She's alone, so I'm taking her to dinner."

"Oh, sure! All I gotta say is, I'd never volunteer to take a 'friend of the family' to dinner, on my own money," Jack said, eyeing David warily.

"You never had a family friend like Michelle," said David. "In fact, Jack, you're lucky you ever had any friends at all," he finished, tossing a pillow at his sarcastic roommate.

Jack laughed again and tossed the pillow back, on the way out. "Well, just holler if you decide you need any help with this 'family friend.' I'm very friendly."

He dodged the final pillow toss. The pillow bounced against the closing door. David glanced at his watch, kicked the pillow out of the way, and headed back to the car, determined not to be late for this very important date. Good as his word, he stood outside the bookstore, in front of his waiting car, when Michelle walked out. "Hi there, stranger," he said.

He tried hard not to over-react when she smiled that amazing smile, the one he'd fallen for the first time he'd seen her. He hoped he didn't look too much like a lovesick puppy. Nonchalance was not part of the officer's training program.

"Hello again," she returned, struck by the uncommon good looks and easy grace David now seemed to possess. She could feel his gaze taking her in from head to toe, and she enjoyed the sensation. It felt good to be "appraised" positively by such a striking young man. "Why don't you take me back to the hotel so I can change. I'm sick of these clothes. I need to get as comfortable as you look."

"Sure," he said. "Let's go."

The drive zipped by. They chatted about book sales and customers until they pulled up in front of the hotel. He parked the car, then deliberately got out to accompany her in. He decided he wasn't going to waste a minute of time he had with her. He reach out for her hand. Michelle hesitated just a fraction of a second, then slipped her hand into his. He exhaled sharply. A big grin crinkled the corners of his mouth. "Shall we go in?"

Michelle nodded. They walked, hand in hand across the lobby to the elevators. Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle caught the surprised look on the concierge's face. She allowed herself the tiniest of smiles. Who cares? He was her friend and he was twenty-two. It was nobody else's business who accompanied her to her room. It felt good to have him here. And she hadn't felt really good in a long, long time.

Once in her room, they continued to make small talk as she rummaged through her bags, searching for just the right outfit.

"How's this?" she asked, holding up a black angora sweater, studded beautifully with pearls.

"And these?" She draped slim black velvet slacks over her arm. "It's still cool up here after the sun goes down, right?"

"They'll be fine," he said, imagining the feel of that sweater against his fingertips. "You'd look good in a gunny sack. And yes, it does get chilly."

She laughed and disappeared to change. David sat listening to the sounds of her changing, his mind tumbling with confusing, conflicting thoughts. He was truly sorry that Eric had been killed. Eric had been his friend. And he knew that Michelle had loved Eric deeply. He had never wished any harm to come to Eric.

But the terrible accident had set Michelle free, free to love again. And David wanted her to love him. He had loved her since the first day he had seen her. And this, he realized, was the only chance he might ever get to perhaps convince her to love him. Fate had pulled them together again, here and now.

He'd resolved that he had to seize the moment, when he invited her to dinner. He had to make sure that she saw him with new eyes tonight. He had to make her understand that he was grown, fully capable of desiring and deserving her love. Eric would have understood. David smiled. Eric had always known how much David cared for Michelle. He had never been threatened by it. He would agree with the effort, David was sure.

"Well, I think I'm ready to go," she announced, stepping back into the main room of her suite. "Will this do?" she asked, pirouetting in front of him.

He whistled appreciatively and restrained himself, holding back the urge to wrap his arms around her. This wasn't the time or the place. "Like I said, you'd look good in a gunny sack. I know just the place, elegant but casual, just like you look."

She laughed again. "I think I like casually elegant. It has a nice ring to it." She was aware that she had laughed more in the last few hours than she had in the last month. David had a remarkable effect on her mood. "Let's go," she said, excitement building in her voice. "I'm ready for something besides hotel food."

Dinner was lovely. David had picked out a quiet, not too dressy, restaurant that served excellent food. Sipping the wine he had picked out, she had to agree that he had very good taste in wines. He'd learned a lot in his travels with his parents and his college years. They talked and talked about everything and nothing. She realized she didn't want to take her eyes off his face. She studied his jaw line, watching every muscle tense and relax as he talked about things important to him. He'd grown up into a remarkable young man. Eric would be proud of him. Eric had always had a special place in his heart for David.

And she had to admit, so had she. He had always been able to make her laugh. She found herself noticing more and more of him, studying the body lines under his sweater, finding herself attracted to him in a very physical way.

Tiny fantasies about this handsome young man at her table started playing in the corners of her mind, sending an almost forgotten tingling sneaking through her body. She was glad the restaurant was dark enough that he could not see the color rising in her face. Obviously, he had an affect on her that no one else had created in a long time. She tossed her head, shaking off the sensations that were coming, unbidden. She took another drink of wine. This was turning into a most interesting evening.

As they languished over dessert, she sipped her wine. "I suppose we should leave. They're acting like they want our table."

He stared intently at his wine glass. "Have you ever seen Pikes Peak in the moonlight?" he asked, very casually, carefully not looking at her as he spoke. "How would you like to take a late night tour of the countryside for a better view?"

Michelle considered the question equally carefully. The war going on in her mind took on epic proportions. This invitation was certainly for more than just a car ride. Just as quickly, her head surrendered and her heart, or thereabouts, won, at least this battle. She took a final sip of wine, looked at him across the top of the glass and said very clearly, "I think I'd like that very much. Shall we go?"

She caught and held David's gaze much too long. Her look seared its way into his soul. His heart began to pound. He could feel the throb in his temples and all through his body. It occurred to him that if they didn't leave immediately, he would reach for her across the table. She looked so beautiful sitting there, waiting for his response. Her gaze intense, yet so vulnerable. He knew that she was probably reacting to memories and the wine as much as to him, but he didn't care. He wanted her. Any way he could have her, he wanted her. He would take her away, as far as she would go.

"Let's," he said quietly, standing up and reaching for her chair. "It's a beautiful night."

The silvery moon peered from behind the mountain as they drove. She had taken his hand and followed him, wordlessly, to the car. She'd slid in, close to him, as though that's where she'd always belonged. He drove carefully, one hand on the steering wheel, the other draped casually around her shoulder.

She could feel the tension in his hand. She moved to keep her shoulder under his palm, for now. "You're right David, it is beautiful up here. Where are we headed?"

David kept his eyes on the road. She didn't sound worried, just curious.

"Someplace special," he said. "Dad's stationed here now, at Peterson. They didn't stay long at Ellsworth. Mom and Dad have a cabin here in the hills. It's not far. Nobody's there this weekend, not 'til after graduation. I thought it might be a little more private than one of the clubs in town. We can talk without being disturbed by nosy waiters."

My, he has grown up. She ran her fingers gently along the side of his cheek and smiled to see him shiver. "I'm sure it will be fine." She again felt a warm stirring within her, a stirring that had been long absent. The soft glow of the effects of the wine destroyed the last remnants of Michelle's better judgment. She decided right then to go with this evening, what ever it brought. She felt good next to David. Right here and right now was all that mattered.

David pulled into the cabin driveway. The entire area was dark, but the full moon lit up the walk. Silvery shadows draped over the path. He let her out of the car and wrapped his arm tightly around her "I don't want you to fall."

She slipped her arm around his waist as well, holding him, feeling his back muscles harden under her touch, as they picked their way to the door. "I won't fall while you're here, you'll catch me."

He swallowed hard, gritting his teeth to stay focused on the task at hand, of getting them both into the cabin. He unlocked the door and flipped on one of the small lights. It cast a romantic glow over the entire living area. "What a beautiful place," Michelle exclaimed.

It was really just one big room, an A-frame with a huge lower level. A gently curving, wide staircase led up to an elevated sleeping loft. Kitchen appliances were tucked under one of the eaves. A bathroom and storage were hidden in the back corners and a big fireplace had been especially built into another corner.

Comfy couches and a huge, white fake fur rug stretched out in front of the fireplace. A big console stereo resided under another portion of the eve. Assorted ski equipment, camping gear and miscellaneous stuff sat in odd nooks and crannies, indicating that the cabin did, indeed, receive lots of visitors.

"I'll get a fire started," he said, "you see what's in the fridge."

"Won't a fire be a lot of trouble?"

"Not dad's way. He had a gas log installed, with a big propane tank outside. He didn't want to have to cut wood unless he wanted to."

"Leave it to John to be sensible." Michelle peered into the fridge. "Do you drink beer, David? Do we want to mix wine and beer? There are a couple of cans here."

"Sure, why not? Let's live dangerously. There's a beer opener in the drawer there," he said pointing to the small cabinet. Michelle found it, opened the cans and took a sip out of one of them.

"Does the stereo work?" she asked, handing him a can.

"You bet," He took a long drink. "But the records are mostly mom and dad's. Just slide the top open."

Michelle sorted through the records and put on a stack of carefully-made selections. "Do junior officers learn how to do more than the boo-ga-loo these days?" she asked, setting the can down, as the strains of Johnny Mathis' Twilight Time drifted from the speakers.

"Yes ma'am," he said, his voice husky and low. He crossed the floor to her, leaving his drink setting on the fireplace mantle. "Every officer has to pass ballroom dancing. You never know when you might need to dance," he said, wrapping both arms around her waist.

"I don't remember this being a ballroom position," she teased, reaching up, slipping both arms around his neck.

"It's special," he murmured bending his head down to hers. "Reserved for rooms like this one."

"I like it," she replied. They swayed to the music, coming closer and closer together with every phrase of the song. The sensual rhythm of the love song enveloped Michelle, leading her on. David's hands set her flesh tingling. They gently drifted lower, to the small of her back. Memories of the past faded. She acknowledged David's effect on her. She wanted more of him, much more.

David's gut ached with desire as their bodies touched. She seemed to be teasing him, leaning forward, then pulling back, always in step with the music, not really suggestive, yet he knew she could feel him getting more and more aroused.

"Don't tease, Michelle," he said finally, his hands pressed against the curve of her hips, pulling her in tightly, his face nearly buried in her hair. He knew she could feel his heart pounding. He was swollen hard against her.

"I'm not teasing, David," she whispered, turning her face up to him. Her delicate tongue traced the top of his ear, then down its side. She let her tongue just touch his ear. She paused slightly, then blew ever so gently on the lobe.

His arms tightened in response and she allowed her body to lean fully into him, so he could feel the swelling of her breasts beneath her sweater, feel the pounding of her own heart. He pressed back against her, his body screaming for more. The song stopped, freezing the moment. She pressed her head to his chest. He held her for what seemed to be an eternity, hearts pounding together, matching breath for breath. The record changer clicked, the old vinyl platter dropped down, the needle arm swung and the words of the next song filled his brain. "If you let me love you, it's for sure I'm gonna love you, All the Way..."

Michelle rolled her head slightly to allow him to kiss her. His lips touched hers tentatively, asking permission with their gentle touch. Her tongue gave her answer. It slid deliberately between his parted lips, finding his, caressing it and teasing him, as a tiny purr escaped her throat.

He let out a groan and swept her off her feet, in one quick motion. Down, down to the great white rug on the floor in front of the fire. There was no holding him back. He had wanted her for too long. His dress pants were no match for his urgency. Her black velvet trousers slid off quickly.

Four years of imagination and desire erased all his normal self-control. He slid quickly between her legs. He kissed her hungrily. Her arms encircled his neck. She returned the kiss eagerly, her body trembling, her thighs separating invitingly. She gasped when he plunged into her, lifting her hips off the floor with his force. He heard her gasp but he couldn't stop. He thrust again and again, moaning as he gave in to the feelings he had fought to ignore for so long.

Michelle fought for breath, her body responding in kind. She had forgotten how powerful a young man could be. Overwhelmed with the intensity of his emotion, she moved with him to a long-forgotten plateau of pleasure.

His hands ran under her sweater as he continued to thrust. The sweater yielded easily to bare skin underneath. She arched her body, raising her now uncovered breasts to him, to be caressed. Another time he would have obliged gently, but not now. His urgency still drove him on. His mouth closed on an already erect nipple. He suckled hard, pulling, demanding, as his hands insisted she respond.

His sweater and shirt were no match for Michelle's response. In no time, they were no longer between them. She wanted to feel him against her totally. Her fingers dug into his back. She strained to meet him. Her stomach began to contract, heaving in time with him. She twisted and pulsed, like the belly dancers of old, with smooth rolling motions, matching his still powerful pulses. David had seen those dancers. Now he understood what those moves were for. Her rhythmic pulses drove him harder and harder. They writhed on the cabin floor as they finally exploded with one another in an ecstasy of passion.

His tongue traced the curve of her breast as they lay there, gasping for breath, tight in one another's arms. He stayed on top, half-afraid she would disappear if he moved.

"Mmmm,"

The sound drifted into his ear.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he said, still pressing her tightly to the floor, kissing her breast, gently, trying to make up for any roughness. "I couldn't stand it. I've wanted you for so long."

He looked into her eyes, searching for her reaction to his pronouncement.

"You were wonderful. And you talk too much," she murmured, kissing his chin. She traced her tongue up to his lower lip. "Don't you have something better to do with those lips?"

"Oh yeah," he said breathlessly. He began to cover her face with kisses; her eyelids, then her nose, then her cheeks, then down her cheekbone to her ear.

"That's nice," she purred. "Keep it up,"

He nuzzled her neck beneath her ear.

She began to rock her hips gently from side to side underneath him. Her movement coaxed him to love again. She could feel the changes inside her.

"You are a cat," he said, hearing her purr out loud.

"No. Cats scratch, and these aren't claws," She ran her fingers down his back, then over and around his hips, to that special, sensitive spot men have just beneath their "cheeks." Stroking him, she raised her hips slightly, anticipating his reaction.

Startled, he drove down into her again. No one had ever awakened that sensitive spot to him before.

"You're all ready to go again, aren't you?" Her sensual laugh sent shivers down his exposed spine.

"We could be here all night, if you keep that up," he said huskily as he started to release the fury she had again awakened.

"Wonderful," was her reply, lost in their motions.

His fury spent sooner this time. They lay locked in an embrace in front of the glowing fire, deep in the pile of the luxurious rug; both unwilling to move, unwilling to break the moment.

She finally slept. David picked her up and carried her to the loft. She didn't even stir when he lay her down, gently, on her side. He slid in beside her, curling around her, fitting his chest to her back, with one arm around her waist, covering them both with the big woolen blanket on the bed. He wanted to awaken with her, to keep her near.

******

She awoke, with a start, to sunshine streaming in the loft window. The arm around her waist startled her. David's whisper curled over her shoulder. "It's all right Michelle. We're just in the loft bed. I thought you might sleep better here."

It wasn't a dream. She shivered, snuggling tight against him. The memories of last night tumbled into her consciousness. She was here, with David, feeling emotions she hadn't felt since Eric was killed. How could she? She was here to sort out her feelings about Joe. How could she feel such hunger for David? She shook her head. All she knew was that she wanted to be here; wanted with every fiber in her being to continue what they had started. She rolled over, sliding her body tight against him. Her fingertips traced a sensuous pattern from his chest to around his neck. Her fingers slid into the golden curls at the nape of his neck. "Good morning." A languid smile played across her face and she batted a sleepy eyelid. "How are you this morning?"

He grinned and kissed her on the nose. He looked closely to see if any doubts hovered in her look "I'm fine. How about you?"

Her smile widened, easing his mind. "Better than I've been in a long time," she said truthfully. "When do we have to be out of here?"

"We don't," he replied. "This is Saturday. Nobody plans to come up here for another three weeks. It's all ours. We could just stay right here in bed 'til Monday."

That thought pleased him very much. He moved as if to slide atop her again. but she held him back. He looked at her questioningly.

"You'd like that wouldn't you," she purred, running her hands down his chest.

"I'd love it," he exclaimed.

Michelle continued to stroke his chest, pushing gently. He yielded to her push and rolled over completely on his back, excited by her touch. He'd never had his feelings aroused in so many different ways. He shivered in anticipation, waiting for her next surprise.

Michelle began to kiss his chest gently along the edges of the tight muscles leading to his flat nipples. Her fingertips traced muscle edges lower and lower, making him ache with desire to the very center of his being. She continued to awaken his feelings, as she traced her fingernail gently along the edge of his navel.

"Oh-h-h!" He moaned, convulsing toward her touch. Fire bolts of pleasure raced down the nerves in his abdomen, awakening his desire immediately.

She continued her slow move down his taut body, her lips following the path marked out by her nails. Her hands slid gently down the front of his muscular legs. Her tongue found its own path. The muscles were as taut as violin strings. He was trying to hold still for her, to let her do whatever she wished to please herself and him, but his self-control was rapidly disappearing.

"I can't stand to wait, Michelle," He reached for her, wrapping his fingers in her chestnut mane.

"Silly man," she purred, shaking her head, loosening his grip. "Of course, you can."

With that, she slipped one leg across his body. Raising up on her knees, she lowered herself until she just met his erect desire. His body screamed for her as she hesitated ever so slightly, enticing him with her eyes, forcing him to wait.

"Good morning," she said again, rocking down hard onto him. He slipped into her easily, as though they had been lovers for years. He gasped and arched himself while she rocked, bringing both of them to a marvelous peak of early morning ecstasy. He wanted to reach to caress the beautiful breasts before him but he couldn't. Her moves were controlling him, taking him farther and farther. His hands could only grip the bed. He pushed up and up, into that moist sheath surrounding him, throbbing, holding him, awakening sensations he'd never before experienced.

She tossed that wild mane of hair as she gave one final shove, arching her back to carry her force to him. He groaned and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her down, rolling over with her, grinding deep into her, emptying his passion. Finally, she slid down beside him, smiling. "So much for your morning workout," she whispered, gasping for breath.

He laughed and kissed her. He held her close, wishing the moment would never end. What great sex! Could he turn lust into love? He raised up on one elbow, searching her face for a clue. Did she love him the way he loved her? Of course not. She had not loved him for four years, as he had her.

She was still recovering from her loss of Eric. She was vulnerable and could be hurt again. David wished fiercely he could keep her here in the mountains, away from everything else, to keep her just for himself. He would protect her at all costs. A very practical, protective thought elbowed its way into his consciousness.

"You know, maybe we should be a little more...careful" he finished lamely, embarrassed at even having approached the subject.

She cupped his face in her hands, pulling him close for a kiss. "Unfortunately, we don't have to worry. I told you I was badly hurt during the wreck. With all the broken bones, operations, and internal scarring, my doctors say I can never have children. It's just me from now on."

"Don't worry," he said sharply. "You're all any man would ever want! You're more than enough for me."

He kissed her again, hard, as if to prove his point by the force of his kiss. His intensity jolted Michelle into the realization that this was no passing flirtation, no single romantic interlude, on David's part. He loved her deeply, more than she had ever imagined.

And she realized, just as suddenly, she could really love him, without even trying. He made her feel alive, truly alive — like she had with Eric. He could make her smile, make her laugh and make her feel safe against the world.

She'd come to Colorado to sort out her feelings about Joe, and walked right into another love. The idea astounded her. She'd never considered herself a swinger, or engaged in the "one-night stands" that were so popular these days, but here they were, and here she was, seriously considering love, after one night in the sack with this admittedly virile young man, who was obviously crazy about her. But this could never work. Their ages were too different and their lives were headed separate ways.

A young lieutenant in the Air Force couldn't have an "older woman" for a wife, especially not a novelist. And a war protester's widow to boot. It wouldn't fit the Air Force requirements for the proper family team. How could they possibly be in love?

But for now, she pushed that out of her mind. Whatever was happening, she wanted it. She wanted to be right here, with David–snuggled next to him, feeling his strong body pressed close to hers, sharing wonderful sensations. If this was going to be their weekend, it was going to be one to remember.

She looked up at him, grinning. "I'm starved," she said changing the subject, "let's see if we have anything to eat."

******

"Well," exclaimed Michelle, emerging from the fridge, "we can breakfast on cheese and sardines."

She straightened, holding a package of cheese spread in one hand and a can of sardines in the other. David laughed at the sight. His tee shirt dropped nearly to her knees. He had found that and a pair of gym sweats in his foot locker in the loft. He had given her the shirt and donned the sweats himself. They made quite a sight, rummaging in the tiny kitchen area, looking for leftovers that might still be edible.

"Ugh!" He grimaced. "I found some crackers and a jar of peanut butter. How's that?"

"Well, it looks like we're going to need some groceries. We're going to have to go back into town, anyway," she said firmly.

"No." said David, crossing the floor in three giant steps, swooping her into his arms. "I don't want to go anywhere. I'll eat peanut butter!"

Setting down her food offerings, Michelle took his face in her hands and kissed him gently. "Maybe you can just disappear for a weekend, dearest, but I can't. My agent will be waiting for my plane this afternoon. If I don't walk off that plane on schedule, he'll call the hotel to see why not. If they tell him my bed wasn't slept in and they don't know where I am, his next call will be to the police in Colorado Springs, I promise you."

She looked at him intently. She could see he wasn't convinced. "I don't want a patrol car visit to spoil this weekend, do you?"

He grudgingly shook his head.

"Okay, then we have to go back into town for a little while. Once I make a couple of calls and check out of the hotel, we can come back, if you're sure it's all right. Besides, I really don't want to spend the entire weekend in your tee shirt," she said, laughing. "You have clothes here. I don't."

He pressed her close. He didn't want to waste the time driving back and forth, but she was obviously right. "You promise we'll come back?"

She looked deep into his eyes. "I promise." She placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled him down for a gentle kiss. "If that's what you want, we'll come back."

He kissed her hard. "Yes, that's what I want. Let's go quick and get back. I don't want to waste any of the time we have left."

"It won't take me a minute to change." Michelle darted back to the loft, picking up clothes as she went, with David at her heels.

The trip back to town flew by. David drove like a demon, afraid that she would reconsider in the cold light of day. He didn't want her to think too much. He knew she was a very practical thinker. He had to convince her that they were right for each other, that they should be together, against all logic, against all social convention. He could do that better if they were alone. He had very little time.

The concierge saw them enter the lobby. He raised an eyebrow, then turned his head. It was not his business to judge what well-known guests did while holding rooms at the Broadmoor. He was already aware that Miss Harrison's bed had not been slept in. He was relieved to see her. She was obviously fine.

Once in her room, they started stuffing her things back into her suitcases. "I'll call the office while you finish my packing," said Michelle. "The secretary should be there. I've got to let them know I'm not coming home today."

David nodded and continued to stuff bags. Michelle dialed the phone. Calling Joe at home wouldn't be a good idea. No sense getting into a discussion about not coming home. The phone rang, then rang again.

"Hello, Jill? Yes it's me. Could you get a message to Joe for me? No, no, nothing's wrong. But I'm not going to be back tonight. No, I've met some old Air Force friends here in Colorado Springs and I'm going to stay with them for a couple of days. I'll call when I'm ready to come back. I've decided I need a few days off. Thanks, Jill, you're a dear!"

David looked at her in admiration. "You did that really well," he said.

"Did what?" She looked at him wide-eyed, a picture of innocence. "Everything I said was the truth, wasn't it?"

"You want this weekend too, don't you?" he said, more of a statement than a question. His arms enfolded her. They shared a deep, lingering kiss. Michelle's heart pounded in her chest. His kisses seared into her soul.

"Let's go," she replied, evading a direct answer. "We need to stop at the grocery store. I don't want to eat sardines and peanut butter all weekend."

They waited only long enough for Michelle to call to cancel her plane flight and to check out. David knew the Springs well. They quickly pulled up in front of a market. He could tell that Michelle was picking out food for only two nights. He resolved to make the most he possibly could of the next two nights.

The rest of Saturday seemed to fly by. They walked through the beautiful spring woods, watching the squirrels, enjoying one another's company. David confided his dreams of becoming an aviator ace to her, talking at length about how much he wanted to fly, to serve his country, to do something worth doing with his education and talent.

She told him about writing, about the rigors of being on tour for a book, staying to the business side of her life as much as possible. She encouraged him to talk and he did. He wanted her to know everything about him that he could tell her in one day.

The sun slipped beautifully behind the craggy mountain, and they headed into the cabin for the evening. David intended that she enjoy this weekend like no other weekend she had ever known. He was competing with all the memories she had of Eric and he intended to beat them. He had to, if he had a chance to convince her to be part of his present and their future.

He picked out the music this time. Unchained Melody drifted out of the speakers. He took her in his arms, saying, "Would you like to dance again? There are still things I can show you."

She laughed and melted again into his arms. This was going to be another wonderful night.

Chapter 4

David awoke with a start. The space next to him was empty. "Michelle?" A note very close to panic crept into his voice.

"Down here," came her voice from below. He breathed a sigh of relief and pulled on his sweat pants. It was still too cool up here to run around nude in the morning.

His first glimpse of her nearly took his breath away. She had on her gown, a beautiful silky turquoise cloud, almost but not quite transparent, that just matched her eyes. It dropped from lacy insets across her shoulders, to her ankles, swirling and floating as she glided along the floor. He still couldn't look at her without wanting her.

"Good morning, Adonis," she cooed. "How are you this beautiful morning?"

"Fine," he replied, watching her every move.

She opened a lower cabinet door and leaned down slightly, to look for a skillet. Her gown swung from her hips, highlighting her lovely legs. The sun streamed in the window from behind her, shadowing her sensuous curves. That was all it took.

"Ready for you, again," he growled into the back of her neck, stepping up behind her. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her in tight to him.

"O-o-h, good morning," she purred, pressing her hips backward into him, feeling he was already swollen hard with desire. They swayed together, enjoying the feeling of rising passion.

His right hand gathered up her gown, to reach her exquisite nakedness underneath as he nibbled her ear. Still holding her tightly against him, he began to stroke her gently, across her lower abdomen, then tracing that extra sensitive line down to the special spots of pleasure below.

"Mmmmm." She began to squirm, responding to her own rising desire.

She tried to turn face him, but he wouldn't let her. She wasn't overwhelmed with need just yet. He wanted to change that. He wanted to make her need him as much as he already needed her, as much as she had made him need her yesterday.

He began to nuzzle the line of her neck, where it just met her shoulder. She rolled her shoulders and swung her hips, trying to turn to face him as her own need became more insistent.

He continued to hold her tightly from behind, stroking and petting her. He caressed the upper parts of her legs, her delicate inner thighs, his fingertips like hot irons on her silky skin. She quivered when he touched her, stepping apart, unconsciously, to allow him to reach the more secret parts of her desire.

She shook her head impatiently, her chestnut locks falling around her face. Leaning back into him, she shoved her body hard against him, pressing the back of her head into his chest and grinding her hips deep into his groin.

He moaned at her pressure, but held her even more tightly, keeping up the pressure she had insisted upon. She was wet with anticipation, her breath coming in gasps. Her body shook, just from his touch. His fingers probed deep, to her special spot of ecstasy; darting, kneading, feeling her own passionate hardness, well hidden.

She cried out, from deep within. Her body began to convulse with waves of pleasure. He continued to hold her, driving her on with just his touch. His own need was becoming unbearable. He felt her writhing against him, desperately wanting him now. She needed him to complete her pleasure.

Still holding her tight, he tugged his intruding clothing down. He traced his hand down the back of her leg, while he stepped out of the sweats. She shivered again all over and exclaimed, "Please, please, David, don't make me wait any longer!"

Frantic with desire, she clutched the counter top, shifting with his continued probing. The spasms had simply heightened her desire for him, not satisfied her. She struggled again to turn, to make him take her.

"Tell me you do want me," he almost ordered, still holding her, still probing insistently with his fingers, deep to her secret spot. "Tell me you want me as much as I want you!"

"Oh, yes, I want you!" her voice trembled and the words tumbled out. "Please — now, " Her need was driving her to madness.

At her plea, he could hold back no longer. His throbbing shaft found its mark.

She bowed her back sharply, throwing back her head, her hair flying like a great chestnut cloud. He thrust carefully, to be sure he wouldn't hurt her. He held her tightly to him and continued to thrust, stronger and stronger.

Michelle had never known these sensations. David was going deep, deep within her, into her very soul with his love. She abandoned all reason and went with him, pressing her hands down onto the countertop, bracing to receive his intensity and emotion. The pleasure of their union consumed her. The rhythm of their love surged on and on.

He allowed his hands to roam across her entire body, bringing life to all her secret sensitive places; caressing her erect nipples, exciting all her senses.

"Don't stop", she whispered, in broken breaths, as new-found pleasure enveloped her.

"I won't", he whispered back, "I'll be here for you always." He pulled her even more tightly to him and began to thrust again, this time so deep Michelle cried out when his seed plunged deep into recesses she didn't know existed.

She stood, gasping, holding onto the cabinet, while David stood behind, with both arms locked around her. He finally allowed her to turn to him, within his embrace. Her gown dropped back down over her body like a blue film.

"I'm worn out," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him, snuggling next to his bare, heaving chest.

"We've been working hard," he said, smiling down.

"I'm ready for a nap and we just got up." She looked up at him, questioningly.

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty. I'll tuck you in again."

He kissed her again, gently. Taking her hand, they climbed the stairs to the loft. They slipped back into bed, snuggling down for more blissful sleep, wrapped in one another's arms. The day disappeared–they never got out of bed.

Hunger finally drove them out and downstairs, later that evening.

"Hey, that smells delicious," said David. The aroma of beef tenderloin, being braised in lemon butter, wafted through the lower level. "I didn't know you could fry steak in a pan."

"Of course, you can," said Michelle, smiling, "if you don't cook it to death." She had carefully chosen the food for this evening, for easy, yet elegant cooking. There was no need to eat beans and franks, just because one was in a cabin in the woods.

David put on a stack of "easy listening" long play records in the old stereo, while Michelle brought the steaks to the table. They both laughed at the setting before them. The cabin was not equipped for fine dining. Assorted plates, unmatched cutlery and plastic tumblers graced the table.

"David, I did grab a small bottle of wine at the store. It should be chilled by now," she said, pointing to the fridge.

He nodded, bringing the bubbly concoction to the table. They sat down to enjoy their feast. He poured a tumbler full for each of them.

"Here's to us," he said quietly. "May this be the start of something even more wonderful."

"To a wonderful weekend," Michelle echoed, returning his gaze steadily.

The tenderloin cut with a fork. Michelle offered a small piece of hers to David on the tines of her fork, saying, "You'll have to eat all your meat. You have to please the cook."

He seized the offered morsel, devouring it, smiling a knowing half-smile. "I'll take all the cook will give me."

"Oh, you think so?" she said innocently, offering him yet another bite.

"Mmm Hmmm," he mumbled, mouth full. He looked down at the rest of the dishes spread before them.

He picked up a perfect asparagus spear, with an enormous head, dripping with butter sauce. Balancing it in his fingers, he pointed it head first at Michelle's waiting lips.

"What about you?" he countered, eyes gleaming with the game. "Think you can handle all this?" He just touched the tip of the spear to her lips.

She laughed, thoroughly enjoying this repartee.

"O-o-oh, I'm sure I can," she said, allowing her tongue to trace the enormous head of the asparagus spear. David's hand began to shake, watching her. Again and again she traced her tongue around the tip of the spear, never taking her eyes off David. His nostrils flared. He breathed deeply, to control his rising desire. He couldn't take his eyes from her mouth and her tongue. His imagination ran rampant, watching her caress the spear with her tongue.

She finally seized the asparagus, with full, wet lips, and pulled it out of his fingers, downing it quickly. She caught his wrist before he could move, and held it, sensuously licking all the traces of butter from his fingers.

"But don't forget the juice," she said wickedly, eyes sparkling, still watching him. She licked the palm of his hand clean. "You never want to lose any of the juice. It's the best part."

David let out an animal moan. Shoving his chair backward, he grasped her hand and stood up, pulling her to him. He was not quite as skilled in this conversation as she. His blood boiled much quicker. Their bodies crushed together in a ravenous embrace. His tongue followed the path of that enormous asparagus spear.

"Whoo–o–e–e," she exclaimed, delightedly. "Let me breathe, Adonis!"

She leaned back against his arms, pressing her hips against him, feeling the pulse of his desire. She let her head fall back, exposing the lovely hollow of her neck, accentuating the natural curves below. The move had the desired effect.

He ran his hand up her back, pulling her in, planting hungry kisses in that hollow, nibbling the edge of that lovely curve. "Michelle, I need you so," he murmured.

"We have all night," she replied gently, "we don't have to rush. Dance with me again."

She nuzzled his ear, pushing until he looked at her.

"I don't want to dance," he said gruffly.

"Please, David?" Michelle whispered again, swaying her hips to the music, caressing him with each move.

"Mmmm."

He, too, began to sway, to please her. He couldn't deny her anything, even though his body wanted something totally different.

Michelle drifted with the music, enjoying the feelings rising within her. She knew she should feel guilty about teasing David, but she didn't. It had been so long since she'd wanted to entice a man, it felt good to do it–to have such a handsome young man want her.

Michelle glanced sidewise at David. Poor dear. He does look miserable. I shouldn't treat him this way.

The song and David's patience ended at the same time. He planted both feet firmly and pulled her tight to him. "I don't want to dance anymore," he said, eyes boring into hers.

"What would you like to do?" she asked innocently, fingers tracing a line gently down his cheek.

"You know very well what I want," he answered, seeking her lips again with his.

"Perhaps you'd better show me," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Showing's always better than telling."

That was all he needed. He swept her into his arms. He crossed the room in three strides. Kneeling down, he lay her again on the big bear rug in front of the fireplace. He stretched out beside her, enveloping her with his embrace.

Michelle allowed his kisses to reach her, deep within her soul. Deep into the secret part she had locked away when Eric died. Physical need came flooding back, the need to be held and wanted. His hands caressed her, under her sweater, seeking her body, awakening sensations she thought were long since gone. Need tightened her gut. She shifted on the rug to touch him, to feel the length of his body against hers.

"Oh David," she whispered, "I need you, too."

"Thank, God," he exclaimed. "I don't want this to be a one way thing."

"Oh, no," she said, clinging to him, "it's not a one way thing. Love me, David. Make me forget the past. Help me think about the future."

"I'll do my best," His body ached to have her again, but they needed to talk first, just a little.

"Michelle, there is a future for us," he said quietly, pressing his fingers to her lips so she could not interrupt. "I know there's an age difference between us, but I don't think it's too much. I think we could work things out. I love you. I've loved you since I first saw you, you know that. Eric knew that. And I think you could love me. We're certainly good together, you have to admit that."

She nodded, not saying a word, just watching his earnest face, inches above her.

"I graduate in three weeks. I could request a California assignment. We could see each other. I want to marry you. I know it's too soon to ask, but I want you to know that. I want us to have a life together. No, don't say anything now," he said quickly, seeing her begin to frown. "Just promise me you'll think about it. At least overnight. Think about how much I love you, and how much you wanted and enjoyed this weekend, too. Promise me, Michelle? " He moved his hand and she nodded, smiling up into his eyes, kissing his fingertips.

"I will David, I will think about it very seriously." She raised her chin and he began to kiss her, began to love her again, this time ever so gently and carefully, as if to promise her the world with the very act of his lovemaking.

******

The Monday morning light, streaming in, hurt Michelle's eyes. The time had come for a decision. David still slept beside her. She was careful not to wake him. She knew if he awoke, she would want him again, would want to continue this idyllic weekend they had been sharing.

She wanted him physically more than any man she had ever been with. He pleased her in ways no other man had ever pleased her. Not Joe and not even Eric. And she admitted to herself that she could love him, probably did love him already. But, there was more to life than pleasure and sometimes even love.

She had to think about the future, his future, since he obviously wasn't thinking about anything but her. Michelle knew the world he wanted to enter, the world he had spent the weekend telling her about. The Air Force demanded conformity from its top officers and their wives. She would have to quit writing, go back to being Michelle Woods.

She might be able to do that, but she couldn't erase the fact that she had a reputation as a novelist and had associated with writers and other intellectuals that wouldn't pass the Air Force security checks. Eric had been an active anti-war protester. That alone would ruin David's career.

He would say that it didn't matter now, but it would eventually. And she couldn't change the fact that she was almost ten years older than he. That would be a subject of airbase gossip everywhere he went. That wouldn't be good for him either. He would be a good officer. He needed a wife to fulfill the roll required And she was all wrong for the part.

No, much as it would hurt him and her, this relationship had to end now, before it went one bit further. She would return to Anaheim today. Joe would be waiting. She would accept his proposal. That would put an end to the daydreams and force David to forget about her. He would have to get on with his life without her. Her heart and her head went to war again, and this time, her head won.

Sick at heart, she slipped carefully and quietly out of bed, picked up an outfit from her open suitcase and tiptoed downstairs. Quickly dressing, she picked up the phone receiver. Insistent dial tone buzzed in her ear. Eyes filling with tears, she dialed the number of her travel agency. She had to stop this before she ruined David's career and his life.

David bolted upright, realizing she was not with him in bed. As he looked around, he heard her, talking quietly below. He scrambled out of bed, and headed downstairs, pulling on clothes on the way. He reached her just as she hung up the phone.

"What's all this?" he asked miserably, although he knew.

"The commuter shuttle to Denver leaves at eight," she said tonelessly. "There's a seat on it for me."

"No!" he almost shouted, enveloping her with his hug. "I don't want you to go anywhere. What about us? You said you'd think about us."

"I have thought about us, David," she said firmly. "I've thought about us almost all night." She extricated herself from his grasp, continuing to talk. "Your world and my world just won't mix. Besides, you've been carrying around a vision of me that I'll never be able to live up to. You really don't love me, you love that perfect dream of me."

"That's not true," he said, reaching to hold her again. "And you could love me, too. I know it. You couldn't have reacted the way you did all weekend, if you didn't feel something for me."

She dodged his grasp and stood so that the table separated them. She didn't dare allow him to hold her or to kiss her again if she were going to pull this off.

"I don't deny I enjoyed this weekend. I haven't had that kind of physical experience in a long time. I miss Eric. You're a very good substitute." She picked her words deliberately. She had to convince him she did not love him.

"So that's all this was?" he asked, anger boiling in his voice. "A weekend fling where you fantasize about a dead man all weekend?"

"You're very perceptive, " she said, turning away so he could not see the anguish she was afraid would show on her face. She held her voice stone steady. "You might as well know. I'm going to marry my agent as soon as I get back. I've had a wonderful weekend, but it's over. We both have worlds of our own to get back to. You have planes to fly and I have books to sell."

"I suppose I'll be page 152 of some romance novel," he snapped, not wanting to believe what he had just heard her say. "What kind of a woman are you?"

He felt as though she had reached in and torn his heart out of his chest. How could she have behaved the way she had if she really loved someone else? "What about this agent? Is he just another substitute? You must not love him, either."

"You don't know anything about love yet, David. Great sex isn't all that makes great love. He loves me very much. I owe him a great deal. I'll make him a very good wife."

"You didn't answer my question," he said sharply. "Do you love him? Or are you just playing games with both of us?"

"We need to go," she said to the wall, ignoring his questions. She could not trade jibes with him or she would break down. If she cried, he would see through her charade. "I can't miss my plane."

"Fine." he said crisply, struggling for some bit of pride, as he went for her suitcases. "I wouldn't want to get in your way."

They rode to the airport in stony silence, each alone with their thoughts. Michelle stared out the side window, not allowing him to see her face. Her looks would give her away. She realized that she didn't want to leave him. She knew in her heart that they could be happy, if he had chosen another career, but he was already on the path to his destiny. She would not allow him to throw that away.

David drove staring at the road, hating every mile of it. Her words had stung like needles, driving themselves into his brain. He was still in shock. She was going to Anaheim to be married. He had just been a pleasant diversion, a physical release. His gut churned and threatened to empty. He inhaled sharply and tensed his muscles hard. He was supposed to be officer material. He'd control this emotion and any other emotion he ever had from now on. Obviously, his love wasn't important to her.

The commuter turbo-prop was sitting on the tarmac when they pulled in. "You don't need to walk me in," she said quietly when they stopped.

"Yes I do," he said, getting out of the car. He came around to her side of the car. He carried her bags and checked them through for her. The tags read Orange County/John Wayne Airport; she really was going to Anaheim.

"Good bye, David," she said, trying to maintain an impersonal tone. "I will remember you."

"You bet you will," he said roughly, abruptly pulling her to him and forcing a rough, angry kiss upon her half-open mouth. She took a step backward, and he released her quickly.

"You'll remember me for a long time, Michelle, you'll see."

With that declaration, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the lobby. He couldn't bear to watch her plane leave. He had to go. He'd said the last strong word he had.

Michelle's hand wiped her bruised mouth. A tear started to silently drip from the corner of her eye. She watched him stride angrily out of the building. She brushed the tear away, unseeing. Invisible icy fingers gripped her heart, turning her cold inside. She was numb from the exertion of the earlier scene. She turned silently and walked toward the gate, away from David forever.

******

Joe Stevens paced the floor like a caged tiger, sending billows of smoke into the air. He puffed on the stub of his tenth cigarette. He'd arrived at the airport far too early, but he couldn't stay away. Ever since Karen had called from Denver, saying she'd be in this afternoon, he'd been on pins and needles. She gave no hint as to what had happened in Colorado, or what she'd decided about his proposal. Her voice had just sounded flat, with no emotion at all.

He ground out his cigarette in the already full ashtray watching Karen's plane taxi up to the walkway. He reached for a breath mint to get rid of the smoke. Karen didn't like smoking, didn't smoke herself, and didn't want him to.

He couldn't blame her. If both his parents had died of heart attacks and had both been smokers, he might feel differently. Anyway, he didn't want to meet her with a cigarette in his mouth or smoke on his breath. He didn't want her to frown the minute she saw him.

Karen struggled off the plane with her carry-on bag. David had stuffed it full. She hadn't had the energy to change anything during the layover in Denver. Exhausted, she looked up to see Joe rushing toward her, arms outstretched.

"Let me take that," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "That's way too much for you to handle. You look beat. You've been gone too long."

Karen just buried her head in his chest, dropping the bag to let his warm words roll over her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and finally looked up at him. "You're right, I have been gone too long. It's been an exhausting trip."

"Well, you're home now," he said, picking up the bag and wrapping his arm protectively around her shoulder. "Come on, the car's just outside."

Karen went along docilely to get the rest of her luggage. She allowed Joe to take charge of her and her things. He wanted to and she was drained. She had been as strong as she could possibly be this morning. Now she needed someone to take care of her, and Joe wanted desperately to be that person.

They walked across the lobby and outside to the car. He worried to himself. She looks terrible. It must have been a really bad flight. He sat down in the driver's seat.

Karen turned to him. "I want to say something before you start the car."

Joe paled and started to protest. She sounded like something was wrong. He was afraid of what she might have decided while she was gone.

She shushed him, then reached over and took his hand. "I've thought a lot about you and me while I've been gone, Joe. I know that you're right, that I have to go on with my life. And I know that you love me very much."

"Let me finish," she said, touching a finger to his lips to stop his interruption. "I'm going to be honest, Joe. My love for you isn't as strong as yours is for me. I'm still haunted by the past. But I promise you, I'll try to be the best wife I can. If you can accept that, I'll marry you."

She let his hand drop and looked down at the car seat. A huge grin streaked across Joe's face. He didn't know what had happened on the trip or in Colorado Springs and he didn't care. She had decided to marry him. That was enough for him.

"Karen, I know you're still not completely over Eric," he said quickly. "But that will come in time. I'm willing to take that chance. You don't know how scared I've been that you wouldn't come back from this trip. When you called, to stay in the Springs, I thought I'd lost you."

"No," she said, leaning over to kiss him quietly. "I just found myself."

He gave her a great hug and another kiss. "I know it sounds corny, but you've just made me the happiest man in the world."

"I hope so, Joe," she said. "I hope so."

"Well," Joe said, starting the car. "When shall the wedding be? How long do I have to wait?"

"Right away," Karen answered. "The sooner the better. There's no reason for us to wait that I can think of. My sister can be here in a day or two's notice. That's all the family I have and your family's already here. I don't need a big fancy wedding. I've had one of those. This one is just for us."

Joe pulled away from the airport, all smiles. Karen leaned against his arm. She blocked everything out of her mind except Joe's welcome. She had to concentrate on their future.

******

The past melded into the present once again. Karen rolled over to look at Joe, sleeping quietly beside her. She remembered how happy he had been on that day. She'd tried her best to bury the past and she had succeeded. He'd been happy and so had she. And now she might have to destroy that happiness. She rolled over to her other side and tried to sleep. She had to decide what to do tomorrow. She had to do something.

Chapter 5

"This isn't bad for a hotel breakfast," said Joe, finishing his eggs. The Embassy breakfast bar had turned out to be excellent.

"You're right, Dad. This is a nice place." said Mark. He had joined them for breakfast. "I see why you like to stay in them when you travel, Mom."

"Where are you two headed?" she asked, glancing between them, trying to sound unconcerned.

"Well, I'm going to take Dad up to the Peak, then down to the campus. I don't have any exams today, so we can go wherever we want," Mark answered. "Are you sure you won't come with us?"

"I'm sure," she said, smiling at him. "I'm going to hop in the sauna, then I'm going to 'chill out' as you say, for a while. Remember, I said I was going to relax all by myself a little, if we came up early. I have another book in the planning stages. I have to do some thinking."

Joe patted her arm. "That's right. Get those creative juices flowing. I did promise you your own mini-vacation. We'll go away and join you for dinner this evening."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Come on, son. Let's see this mountain you're so fond of."

"Have a good time, you two. I'll see you around six." Karen waved from the table as they left the hotel. She got another cup of coffee from the breakfast buffet and headed back up to their room. The elevator ride gave her a little time to think. She had to contact David. She had to see him today, while Joe and Mark were gone.

Back in the room, she flipped through the phone directory, searching the columns for the Academy listings. What luck. The academy had a campus locator number.

"Hello? Yes I'd like the office number of Colonel David Carlson, please." She scribbled the number down on the hotel stationery.

"May I reach him at home as well? Could I have that number, too, please?"

She dialed his office quickly, praying that David would be in his office at this time of the morning, not in his classroom. The last thing she wanted to do was to leave a message or call David's home.

"Hello, David? This is Michelle...Through the campus locator. I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I must talk to you today. It's critical. Please, David, where can we meet? Fine, I'll be waiting at the front door."

She hung up and leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes. He sounded even more confused. She didn't blame him. She sat staring into space for a little while, then grabbed her purse, jacket, and room key. Heading back down to the lobby, her mind drifted back, back to before Mark was born, back to her wedding day.

******

Michelle Karen stood looking at herself in the mirror. Her sister, Annie, stood behind her, adjusting the flowers in her hair. "What's the matter, Michelle? " asked Annie. "Brides are supposed to be happy and bubbly."

"I don't know Annie," said Karen. "Maybe I'm not doing the right thing."

"Oh, pooh!" exclaimed Annie. "Joe loves you more than any woman has a right to expect. He was there for you all the time you were getting well. And he's hung around ever since, doing whatever you asked. You surely don't doubt him, do you?"

"Oh no," said Karen quickly. "I know Joe loves me, very, very much."

"What then?"

Karen said nothing. Annie took her sister by the shoulders and turned her around so that they were facing one another.

"What is it, Michelle? What..." Annie looked deep into her sister's eyes and saw the trouble there.

"It's you, isn't it? You're not sure of your own feelings." It was not a question, it was a statement. Annie was very good at reading her baby sister's moods.

"What if I can't make him happy, Annie? What if my love doesn't match his?"

"You think he loves you more than you love him, right?"

Karen nodded soberly.

"You're still not ready to let go of Eric and get on with your life, are you?"

Karen stood there, not saying anything. A wayward tear made its way down her cheek.

"Well, sister of mine, you listen to me. Eric wouldn't want you to be alone. He loved you dearly and you loved him just as much. But he's gone. And all the love in the world won't bring him back. Most women are lucky to have one man love them. You've got a second man that wants to make you happy. Don't throw that away." Annie shook her sister gently.

"You may not love Joe as much as he loves you right now. But he's your best friend in the world," Annie continued. "You respect him and you do love him some, I know that. You'll love him as much as he loves you, if you just let go of the past and let it happen."

"Oh Annie, what would I do without you?" Karen asked, wrapping her arms around her sister. They embraced affectionately. "You're right, of course. Help me set my face right and we'll go to my wedding. I'll make Joe the best wife I can. He's set on me, what more could I ask?"

Karen stood still while her sister expertly re-applied smeared makeup and re-adjusted flowers. She did make a beautiful bride. Her ice blue lace dress seemed the perfect accent to her natural beauty. Annie was right, she had to let go of the past memories, even though they weren't the ones Annie thought they were. Karen had decided not to share the details of her mountain rendezvous. It would be just too hard to explain.

It had been almost impossible to leave David. If she were going to stick to her decision, to send David off without her, she needed a new life. A life of her own; one she could immerse herself in, to forget David and everything that had passed between them.

"Well, let's go," said Annie, after she finished. "They're all waiting on you."

The next month went quickly. Karen concentrated on setting up a home for Joe and on her writing. He was delighted and she made sure that she stayed happy. However, she found herself getting more and more tired, feeling more and more out of sorts.

"Hon, I'm beginning to worry about you," Joe said, as she emerged from the bathroom one morning. "You seem be getting sicker and sicker. You never used to have such a tender stomach."

"I know," she said miserably, "I've made an appointment with the doctor. By the time you get home, maybe I'll feel better. Maybe I've got mono or something."

******

Doctor Harmon walked into the room with Karen a second time. A small smile played around his mouth.

"Well, Mrs. Stevens," he said, "I think you're going to feel a little under the weather for a while yet."

"Why?" she asked, looking up at him, "I don't have time to be sick. I have a book that's due soon."

At that, a grin popped across the doctor's normally sober countenance. "Well, you're going to have to make time, if I'm right. At least nine month's worth of time. Your book isn't all that's going to be due."

"What!" Karen gasped, staring at him. "Are you saying I'm expecting?"

"That's certainly what it looks like."

"I can't be pregnant! I can't have children. Doctors have told me so ever since the accident."

He shook his head. "Well, we have been known to be wrong. Evidently being married agrees with you. You must have changed something in your life. The final lab test will take a few days, but all the other signs are there. I think it's safe to say you're going to have a baby about next January. Smile," he commanded, "this should be a happy occasion."

"I'm just stunned," she said. Her mind swirling at the pronouncement.

"Well, we'll have to get you started with a specialist very soon. You may have a few problems. You're older than most first time mothers. Make an appointment for next week. We'll have the results for sure and we'll have a doctor for you."

Karen nodded, still shocked by the diagnosis. As she drove home, her mind reconstructed the last six weeks. Her lovemaking with Joe had not been that different. But she had never had a weekend with Joe like the one she shared with David. According to the time frame, either one of them could be the baby's father. She really didn't know which one had fathered the baby, since no one had worried about that possibility.

In any case, the baby belonged to Joe now and that was all there was to it. She fervently prayed the baby wouldn't have blonde curly hair. She didn't know of any blondes on either side of their families.

Joe was ecstatic. "I'm going to be a father? After all this time?"

"Yes," said Karen," relieved at his excitement. "The doctor says being married must agree with me. He's as surprised as I am."

"Well, that's great!" Then he sobered, "But what about you, hon? Is it really safe for you?"

"Doctor Harmon says I'm perfectly healthy. I'll need same extra care, but I should be fine."

But Karen wasn't fine. The next 7 ½ months were miserable. Her body had been damaged severely in the accident and did not take kindly to being pregnant. The specialist finally said, "Karen, we're going to have to take this baby early, before you get any worse. You're becoming toxemic. You're already spotting, ready to lose it."

So, in December, Mark Joseph Stevens was ushered into the world, very small, but very strong, with blue eyes and dark chestnut hair, just like his momma.

At the doctor's urging, a simple surgical procedure was performed, making sure that this was the only child Karen would ever have. Dr. Harmon pointed out strongly that Mark would need his mother and that Karen's odds of making it through another pregnancy were not good. Joe totally concurred with the doctor. He wanted Karen, above all, in his life. One son was more than enough. And Karen agreed. Her baby boy would be the light of her life. She didn't want to miss any of it.

At that point, Karen and Joe got on with raising their son, and Karen never gave another thought to his true parentage, until now.

Now she had to know, and so did Mark. That meant she had to confront David. She paced in the lobby, counting the minutes, waiting for him, hoping he wouldn't change his mind and not come.

******

David stared at the phone after he hung up from Michelle's call. The last thing he had expected was a call from her. She had gone to such great pains to explain their relationship on strictly an old-friend basis.

He had no idea what would be so critical that they needed to discuss it privately. She surely knew him well enough to know he would never jeopardize his daughter's happiness. He had come into school early, even though he had no classes until afternoon. It got him away from home. Suzanne had no idea of his schedule. She didn't seem to mind that he wasn't home much. In fact, she seemed to prefer it.

As he walked to the parking lot, his mind drifted back to the last time he saw Michelle. Those memories had really never left. He could still hear Jack's voice ringing in his ears, when he returned to his apartment that Monday morning.

******

Jack started in the minute David opened the door. "Well hello there! That must have been some 'old family friend'!"

David mumbled a greeting, trying not to continue the conversation, but Jack wouldn't be ignored.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been covering for you all weekend."

"Thanks," David said quietly, sinking into the beanbag chair in the corner.

"Thanks? Thanks! That's all you're going to say? Come on, buddy, you owe me more than thanks for covering your butt when your dad called."

David looked up sharply. He hadn't thought about his parents looking for him.

"Yeah, he called," continued Jack, grinning knowingly. "I thought you might be up at the cabin, so I gave him a story to keep him from coming up there. You better get your story straight with me before you talk to him, unless you want to answer more questions than I'm asking."

David ran his hand across his forehead, massaging his eyes and throbbing temples. "You're right, I do owe you. What did you tell him?"

"I told him a bunch of us were going up to the cabin to open it for them, so they shouldn't come up this weekend, not 'til we'd finished. If you left the place in a mess, you better get up there before your dad does."

"Thanks, Jack. You really saved my hide."

"Yeah well, you better get moving. Nothin's gonna save you if you cut class this late. Come on, tell me what happened with you and the old friend, while you change. You look awful."

David looked at his friend, then made a calculated decision. "Well, if you must know, I swept her off her feet, ran away with her to the cabin, wouldn't let her out of bed for three days. Then I got tired of her and sent her away this morning. And I'm exhausted."

"Oh, yeah. Right." Jack looked disgustedly at his friend. "And I'm Robert Redford. I should have known I'd never get a straight story from you. She wouldn't give you the time of day, would she? You probably drank yourself silly, all by yourself up there. And then slept for the next two days. Your dad would have a fit. Never fear, lover boy. Your secret's safe with me."

David smiled, watching Jack walk out of the room. Michelle was right. Sometimes carefully stating the truth was the best thing to do. He went numbly about the next three weeks; finishing his exams, doing well in spite of himself and graduating with honors. He and Jack headed off to Lubbock, Texas, to pilot training together.

David never mentioned the "family friend" again and thankfully, neither did Jack. Jack never worried about old girlfriends. He never gave the incident another thought. David took women much more seriously than Jack did. Jack was a "love 'em and leave 'em" kind of guy. Even though the two of them looked a great deal alike, both tall, with blond curly hair, they were very different.

In Lubbock, they started double dating in their spare time. Jack was dating a tall, very pretty blond named Suzanne Hamilton, whose family lived there. David never seemed to date the same girl more than two or three times. Things changed one night when David found Suzanne crying, outside their quarters.

"What's Jack done now?" he asked gently. He knew his friend well.

"Oh David, he can be so cruel," she said staring up at him her big green eyes, brimming with tears. "Sometimes he acts like he cares for me and other times he doesn't even want me around. I wish he were as gentle and considerate as you," she continued, raising her eyes to his and holding his gaze soulfully.

David felt sorry for her. He knew Jack could be unfeeling when it came to women. He wasn't interested in being tied down. He loved airplanes, period. Everyone and everything else came in a distant second.

"Come on, Suzanne, don't let him get to you. He's really not worth your tears. Let me take you home."

"Oh, David," she said, sweetly, "would you please? I'd like that so much. You're such a gentleman."

And with that, they started a whirlwind relationship. Suzanne seemed to need David tremendously, couldn't get enough of having him around. And David, still hurting from Michelle's rejection, took comfort in Suzanne's obvious attentions. She flattered his ego and made him feel important to her.

It was Suzanne who brought up marriage. "I want to be Mrs. Lieutenant David Carlson, sugar–before you leave."

At that point, David could see no reason not to, they did seem to be compatible. So, they were married quietly, in a civil ceremony. They spent their wedding night at a motel outside town, but even that was a non-event. According to Suzanne, the current sexual revolution was vastly overrated. Men had just invented it, to get their own way about things.

She lay there quietly, allowing him to do as he pleased, yet not joining in his pleasure at all. He could tell this wasn't her first time, but she made no effort to let him know what pleased her or to try to please him. Maybe she'd had a bad experience she didn't want to discuss. He imagined that perhaps Jack had been the culprit. He certainly wasn't going to ask at this point.

As she slept, David looked at her, remembering the exquisite time with Michelle in his bed. He could tell this relationship was never going to match that one. But she seemed to want to be his wife, which was more than Michelle wanted, so he'd do his best. Besides, he might not be around long. He was on his way to war. She'd be someone to write home to, someone who cared for him.

David was due to be assigned almost immediately so they didn't even get their own place. Suzanne continued to stay with her parents, making room for him whenever he could come off base. Her father approved of his daughter marrying a military man, so he was welcome, even though her parents were taken aback by the swiftness of the marriage.

He shipped out to the Philippines, ending up flying with a bomber crew instead of his own fighter. He was disappointed, but Suzanne seemed pleased. She thought it would keep him further away from the fighting. He didn't tell her he was flying over Hanoi nearly every day. Within two months, Suzanne had written him that she was expecting. He wasn't surprised. She'd wanted a baby, she said.

He'd made it back from 'Nam relatively unscathed. His baby daughter became the delight of his life, golden curls and green eyes, just like her mother. She had a beautiful smile and bubbly personality that lit up a room. He lavished his attention and love on her, since she responded in kind to his affection.

Suzanne and he had grown emotionally further and further apart as Jennifer grew up. They settled into an accommodating routine as he moved through the stages of his career. Suzanne fit easily into the prescribed schedule of an officer's wife, maintaining their home wherever it was and taking care of Jennifer, while he went wherever and whenever he was told to serve his country.

From the outside they had the perfect relationship. No one else knew how hollow their lives were, except perhaps Jennifer, and she had only a small clue. David had devoted himself to his career, determined that no one else would ever touch him emotionally as Michelle had done.

After the first few years, Suzanne seemed to have little interest in the physical aspect of their relationship. She was content to maintain the public form of their marriage and distance herself from him privately. David finally accepted that and filled his life with his work. He had tried to erase all previous memories from his mind. He never expected to cross paths with Michelle ever again.

******

His mind snapped back to the present, when he pulled up in front of the Embassy Suites. Karen walked out quickly and got in the car. She had been watching for him. He looked across the seat at her. With not even a perfunctory greeting, he said, "What now? Do you expect to just waltz back into my life the way you waltzed out of it years ago?"

She looked back at him resolutely. "I don't expect you to welcome me back, David. But we have to talk. Could we go someplace a little more private?"

"Sure, fine. Would you like another trip to the cabin?"

"No, of course not. But that's part of what we have to talk about." She said, her words coming in a rush.

"Well, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me," he said, sharply. They drove a while in silence. David became more and more agitated, thinking about her opening remark. He finally shoved on the brake and stopped the car, under a big tree in the city park. Anger flashed in his eyes.

"I don't intend to tell your husband about our wild weekend, if that's what you're worried about. There's nothing to be gained at this point."

"You don't understand. That's not what I'm worried about. I know you better than that." She looked across at him, not wanting to go on, yet knowing she had to continue. "The problem is, we may have to tell the story of that weekend. Mark may be your son."

The words hung in the air. David just stared, as though she had begun to speak in Arabic. "What?"

"You heard me. Mark may belong to you and me."

His mind finally organized a question. "What are you talking about? I figured he was Joe's son, from an earlier marriage or that you had adopted him. He can't be my son. You couldn't have children, remember?"

"That's what I thought. I found out I was pregnant within a month or so after I married Joe. Joe and I were married within two weeks of our weekend together."

"Oh, I remember when you got married. You sent me the news clip to make sure I knew you didn't care about me. Did you think I was going to follow you?"

David didn't want to admit to her that he had considered leaving school and doing just that, following her to Anaheim, to make sure she was telling him the truth. The clipping had indeed convinced him that she really didn't care for him at all. He hadn't even read it. The headline screaming "Author Weds Agent" and Michelle's accompanying news photo had been enough for him to crumple the offending bit of paper and throw it in the trash.

"I didn't know what you might decide to do." she said, "I didn't want you to throw away what you had just worked so hard for. It was too important to you. And it obviously has been, for the rest of your life."

"Hmm." He stared straight ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel. He didn't want to agree with anything she said.

"When I found out I was pregnant, I wasn't sure which of you had fathered the child. I was already married to Joe. Thankfully, the baby looked like me. I never even hinted to Joe that there was a possibility other than him. I didn't think it would ever matter. I never planned to see you again." She took a deep breath. The scowl on David's faced took an even deeper set.

"But now, we have to know for sure, David. Mark and Jennifer may be half brother and sister. We can't let them marry, if that's true."

The story tumbled out. David finally turned to look at her. "My God, Michelle, it can't be true."

He shook his head, still not wanting to believe her.

"David, do you really think I want to destroy my son's happiness and my own, and devastate my husband in the process? You don't really believe I'm that cruel, do you?"

David shook his head, slowly. "I don't know what to think."

"Think about it. Mark has your height, your eyes and your jaw line. Thank goodness he has my hair and my blood type. Standing beside you yesterday, he looked more like you than Jenny did. I don't know if Joe and Suzanne noticed it, but I did. He's you with dark hair."

He glared at her. Maybe he had to listen to what she was saying. "What do you want me to do? I'm not going to just play the tyrant and tell Jenny she can't marry Mark – not without a good reason."

"Of course not. I don't want you to do that, at least not yet. Is there some way we could prove whether or not Mark is your son, before we say anything to the others? I've read about this genetic testing they're doing. Do you know anything about that?"

"I might," said David, trying to recall what the Air Force had done about genetic tests.

Encouraged, Karen continued, "If we could get a comparison done, somehow, without Mark's knowing it, we'd know for sure. If Joe really is Mark's father, that would end it. Mark and Jenny could get married and we'd go back to Anaheim. Nothing would ever have to be said. You wouldn't have to see me again. I don't want to cause you any further pain."

She turned her head away and continued, "But if he is your son, we have to stop the wedding." She couldn't bear to look at David.

"How do I know this whole thing isn't just another one of your stories? Maybe you just don't want your son married to my daughter."

"David, you have to believe me. I didn't know she was your daughter until we walked in your door. I would never hurt my son, any more than you'd hurt your daughter. They had no part in what happened between us. I would never separate them because I'd known you. But they may be related, David. We have to know for sure they're not."

A dull ached settled in the back of David's neck. He ran his hand over the taut muscles, trying to will them to relax. "Well, the first thing we need to do is see if we can put the wedding off. Suzanne's not happy about a tiny wedding with none of her friends there. And she's upset that Jenny's grandparents may not get to be here."

He glanced in Karen's direction. "I told her I'd talk to Jenny about delaying the wedding. Maybe I can convince Jenny that it wouldn't hurt them to humor her mother just a little. You know, just a month or so. That would give us a little more time to get things done."

Karen nodded. "What if they won't wait? They seemed pretty firm last night."

"If they won't wait, we'll have to move quickly," David said. "We don't have much time."

"I'll do what ever you ask," she said simply. "Money's no object, David. I've got plenty of that."

"It may not take money," said David. "If they're set on getting married this week, it will take calling in some favors."

She looked at him, questioningly.

"The Air Force keeps a genetic sample of every airman these days," he said. "I think both my DNA record and Mark's are on file. They may need a sample from you, too, so they have both of us to match up with Mark's records."

"Of course. What do you need?"

"I think just fingernail clippings or maybe the hair out of your hairbrush. I have a friend in the lab. I'll call him this afternoon to find out."

"But what then? Don't tests need to be run?"

"That's where the favors come in," he said quietly. "And you don't need to know any more about it."

She nodded. She wouldn't ask any more questions.

"You know, Michelle," he said slowly, turning a thought over in his mind, "there is another option."

"Oh?" She turned, wondering what else had occurred to him.

"We could just not tell 'em — not do the tests — and hope for the best. Maybe they'll choose to not have children. At that point, what does it matter? They'd have each other and they'd be happy. No one would know except you and I, and I certainly wouldn't spoil their happiness. Would you?"

Karen looked at him, horrified. It hadn't occurred to her that he might suggest anything other than finding out for sure and telling the kids, if need be.

"I can't believe you even suggested that!" she finally said, incredulously. "You'd let them live in an incestuous relationship? You really would play genetic Russian Roulette with your future grandchildren rather than face up to this? Are you serious, David?"

He stared at her a long time, then said flatly, "No, I'm not. It was just a thought. I know you. You would never let a little thing like someone's happiness stand in the way of what you thought was proper."

She winced visibly, biting the edge of her lip until it bled. His remark cut her deeply. He had intended to hit a nerve and he had. "It's a lot more than just being proper, David. That wasn't fair. You didn't need to say that."

"Oh, didn't I? Since when did you worry about being fair?" He started the car and headed back to the hotel. "You'll just have to sit tight and play the vacationing novelist. You're good at acting. I'll get in touch with you when I know something — if I need samples from you."

He was being deliberately cold. She still sent shivers up and down his spine, just being beside him. He didn't dare think about her. All the years of burying his feeling were to no avail. He wanted to hate her, but his body still responded as it had that weekend so long ago. It knew what it wanted, no matter what his mind thought.

"Yes," she agreed, sadly, convinced that he did really hate her for sending him away years before. "I can play a part well, when I have to."

She wrote down her room number and phone on a slip of paper from her purse.

"Here," she said, shoving the paper into his hand as they pulled up in front. "You'll need this. Just call and leave me a message at the desk saying "yes". I'm sure Colorado Springs has a courier service. I'll send a packet to you at school immediately."

She stepped out of the car. "Thank you, David. I hope this doesn't hurt you too much more. You've already been hurt far too much."

Closing the door, she turned quickly and ran into the hotel, brushing back a stray tear as she went. He stared after her, his mind still reeling. Here she was, turning his life upside down again.

Back in the room, Karen composed herself. She dug her clippers out of her makeup case. Very carefully, she clipped all her fingernails and put the clippings into one of the envelopes from the hotel stationary. Handy stuff, that hotel stationary.

She pulled several strands of her hair from her hair brush, putting them in the envelope as well. She carefully sealed the envelope, addressed it according to the address in the phone book and tucked it securely in her purse. She wanted to have that done and out of the way if David called. She didn't want to have to clip her nails in front of Joe. He knew she worked too hard to grow them out to ever just clip them off for no reason. She could tell him she broke a couple opening suitcases and had to trim them, if he asked. Finding a courier would come later, if need be.

She headed into the other room to get her bathing suit. A dip in the pool, before her men got back, would relax her. This was going to be a very hard week.

******

After the day's classes were over, David hurriedly made his way to the medical lab on campus. He had decided that a phone call would not do. He needed to talk face to face to a good friend. He prayed that the staffing assignments were still the same. He eyes roamed the room as he walked through the main lobby. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the ranking non-com sitting in his office.

Chief Master Sergeant James Rolan — "Jim" — to those who'd known him as a medical technician in the Philippines. They'd served together when they were much younger. Jim patched up shot-up pilots and crew members, whenever they came in. They were still good friends. He could trust Jim with this.

"Good afternoon, sir," said Jim, rising, saluting David as he entered the office. "Good to see, you again, sir. Won't you sit down?"

"Good to see you, Jim," said David, returning the salute. "Do you have a moment? I have a private matter I'd like to discuss with you."

"Certainly, sir," said Jim, moving quickly to close the door. He could tell by the look on the colonel's face, he must have a problem. Whatever it was, he'd do what he could. Colonel Carlson was one of the few officers he'd respected during the war. He'd cared about his crew, and brought them back from some pretty hairy missions over North Vietnam. "What can I do for you, sir?"

David cleared his throat twice, then plunged ahead. "Do you do genetic matching in your lab, Jim? I mean, can you tell whether or not someone is related to someone else?"

Jim smiled and leaned back in his chair. He'd heard this request several times, since their new equipment had come in. "What's up, sir? You got a student with a paternity problem?"

"You might say so," David smiled wryly.

"We do help 'em out, but they have to pay for the tests. They run about eight hundred bucks. Usually, the hard part's gettin' the girl with the baby to go along, sir."

"What if the DNA samples are already on file, Jim? Can you just do the comparisons?"

Startled, Jim sat forward at the colonel's comment.

"Well, if we have both the alleged father and the child on file, a comparison would be easy. But that's generally not the case, sir."

"Well, in this case, I think it is, Jim."

David could put it off no longer. "Would you run a comparison between my sample and this young man?"

David handed Jim a slip of paper with Mark's name on it. Jim took it as though it were a living thing, holding the paper gingerly by the corners.

"Gee, I'm sorry Colonel. I didn't mean to sound flippant. I uh-h...certainly will check this out for you, uh-h..." his answer trailed off as he stared at David. In all the time he had known Colonel Carlson overseas, he'd never been one to "fool around". He was one of the solid married ones. He couldn't imagine David with an illegitimate son. Jim knew Suzanne and Jenny. He'd seen their pictures years ago. The colonel had carried them all the time when he was flying. And they both had been in the clinic over the years, since they had been stationed here.

"It's a long, old story, Jim — before Suzanne and I were married, before I got out of the Academy."

"Then why now, sir? What's the 'lady' want from you now?" A tinge of suspicion crept into Jim's voice.

"Oh, no, she doesn't want anything. This young man wants to marry Jenny. I found out about him possibly being my son this morning. I met his mother and father for the first time, last night. We were flabbergasted to see one another. She recognized the problem, and came to me, this morning — worried sick. The young man in question has no idea he might be my son. We need to know for sure, before the kids get married. We can't have youngsters who are half brother and sister getting married, now can we?"

David smiled weakly at the look on Jim's face.

"Boy, Colonel, when you get in a jam, it's a doosy!" Jim shook his head, then continued, "But don't worry, I'll check it out. If he is your son, I'll be able to tell. I wouldn't want Jenny to get hurt. She's a good kid."

"I know, Jim, I know. And so is Mark. I don't want to separate them unless we absolutely have to. But we need to know for sure. And you understand why I don't want anyone else but you to know. Stories and rumors start easily enough, we don't need to help them along."

"I understand, sir. Everything that happens in the genetic lab is confidential. But, we can't do it tonight. I can do the comparisons early tomorrow, before the rest of the crew comes in. No sense having any more prying eyes than necessary round here."

"Thanks, Jim. I sure am grateful. Do you need anything from Mark's mother? She's willing to come in or send samples if you need them."

"Yes — why don't you get a hair or fingernail sample, if you can. That way I can run a full test. We can do a match up and account for every chromosome pair. No doubt about it then. We can pretty much tell with just his and yours, since you're sure of the mother, but we should do the whole thing."

"I'll let her know. Don't worry. I'll cover any charges," said David, preparing to leave.

"You can come over in the morning, if you like, sir," said Jim. "I'll be looking at them about 5:30. It's pretty empty around here then."

"I'll be here, " said David, "Thanks again."

"Anytime, sir," said Jim, rising again to salute the departing officer.

Jim shook his head as he sat back down. Officers. When they got into trouble, they really had trouble. Well, he'd have to see what he found. This could be a real mess.

******

David paced the floor, anxious for a chance to talk to Jenny alone. Finally Suzanne disappeared upstairs and he found Jenny in the library.

"What's the matter, Dad?" she asked, curled up in the overstuffed chair. "You've been like a caged lion tonight. Is Mom harping at you again?"

"Kind of," answered David, grateful for the lead-in "Your mom's really unhappy about not having a nice wedding for you. And for not giving your grandparents time to get here. It's not like you to be thoughtless, Jenny. What's the big hurry?"

"Dad, I want to be married before Mark leaves." She hesitated, then took a deep breath and continued, "Mom would be a lot more upset having a wedding for an obviously pregnant bride, wouldn't she?"

Jenny let the words sail across the room.

"Oh!" David exhaled sharply and sat down. "Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asked, looking at her helplessly.

"Those new drug store kits are pretty accurate, Dad. " She answered, smiling guardedly at her father. He was taking it pretty well, much better than her mother would, she knew. "But, no, I haven't seen the base doctor yet. And I'm not going to until after I'm married. You know how gossip flies around here. But Mark doesn't want to leave and I don't want him to leave, without being married. You do understand, don't you, Dad?"

He stood up. She met him in the middle of the room. "Of course I do, Jenny." he said enfolding her in a big hug. "I'll handle your mom. Let's just see if we can delay it a couple more days to give your grandparents a chance to get here. Okay?"

"Okay, Dad, I don't want to hurt them, you know that." She kissed him on the cheek. "I need to rest, Dad. I'm really tired."

"Good night, sweetheart," he said, as she left the library. He dropped into the overstuffed chair, exhausted.

Well, that takes care of delaying the wedding. And any thought he might have had of not telling the kids. A grandbaby was already on the way. They had to know now, if Mark was David's son, before it was too late.

David reached for the library phone and dialed the number Michelle had given him. "Yes, this is Colonel David Carlson. Would you please leave a message for Mrs. Karen Stevens? The message is the word "Yes." That's right, just the word "YES." Thank you. Please see that she gets it immediately. And privately!"

******

Karen and Joe were enjoying a late supper in the hotel dining room.

"I sure can't keep up with Mark," said Joe. "I get winded just walking across the parking lot. And my lungs and chest have hurt ever since we got here."

"Maybe you're pushing too hard, " said Karen, gently patting his hand. "You know, you don't have to keep up with your son. He's the athlete, not you. He's the one that's in training up here. Make him go at your pace tomorrow."

"I'll try that. But it'll be hard to slow him down."

Joe smiled at the thought of Mark walking at a slower pace. He couldn't even imagine it. A bellman stepped up to Karen's shoulder, handing her a message. "Excuse me, dear," she said, "the desk clerk wants to see me. I'll be right back."

She walked across the footbridge of the trout stream, hoping that the front desk was completely out of sight of the restaurant. She had picked up her purse as she left. She was right. The desk clerk handed her the message from David, with its cryptic word — "YES." He looked at her curiously, waiting for an indication that she understood.

She pulled the carefully prepared envelope from her purse, saying to him, "I assume you have a courier service here in the Springs?"

"Oh, yes ma'am," the clerk said, surprised at her request.

She handed him the already addressed envelope. "Please make sure this is delivered as early as possible tomorrow morning. Will this cover the delivery fee?"

She handed the clerk a twenty-dollar bill.

"Oh yes ma'am, more than cover it."

"Well, keep whatever's left over for your own careful work in making sure that envelope gets delivered at once tomorrow morning. And very privately, please?" Karen frowned at the clerk.

"Oh, yes ma'am. I sure will, ma'am." The clerk made a mental note that this would get done, first thing. Twenty dollar tips were hard to come by these days. He could just run the letter out to the academy himself and not pay a courier at all. He watched Karen walk back to the dining room. No telling what people would want you to do next.

Karen rejoined Joe at their table, thinking quickly. "It was nothing important, dear. You know Jill."

He smiled, "Was she reminding you to relax? She's getting more and more fussbudgity. I'll have to speak to her when we get back."

She nodded, hating to tell Joe even a small lie. "Oh, you don't need to. You know she means well." She forced a laugh and said, "Tell me more about your day with Mark. Did you have a good time with him?"

"Like I said, I can't keep up with him in these mountains. He walks like a trouper. He had to stop for me all the time. I just can't breathe up here. "

"Well, dear, he is a trouper. And he's been in this altitude nearly four years. Remember, it's about 7,000 feet up here. You're used to sea level. Besides, he doesn't smoke and he isn't 50 pounds overweight, either."

"Now, don't spoil my vacation. You promised you wouldn't pick on me this trip," he said, patting his overly-round belly.

"I know. I just wish you'd take better care of yourself," she said seriously. "I do worry about you.".

"Oh, hon, I believe when your time's up, you're gonna go, no matter what health you're in. I'm gonna enjoy myself while I'm here. And that includes smoking and eating steak," he said, triumphantly popping a big bite of medium-rare sirloin into his mouth.

"And I won't say another word, just like I promised," she said. There was no sense ruining tonight for him. Tomorrow would be soon enough if the tests turned out as she feared. After dinner, they strolled through the beautiful atrium, feeding the trout in the stream and listening to the ensemble playing in the bar. It was a beautiful evening.

Joe finally took her hand and said, "Let's go back to the room. I don't get you all to myself very often any more."

She nodded, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Let's go. Let's make tonight special."

He kissed her gently. "I'll do my best, ma'am." He grinned at her and she smiled back. They walked toward the elevator, back up to their waiting third floor suite.

Chapter 6

David roused and slipped away in the early morning darkness. He left a note for Suzanne saying he had an early final to give. She wouldn't question his absence. She had said she and Jenny were going shopping. They didn't expect him to join them. The security guard stepped up to challenge him when he entered the medical facility, before regular office hours.

"Sergeant Rolan is expecting me, I believe," David said, after identifying himself to the guard.

"Oh, yes, sir, he left your name. Said you might be dropping in. Go right ahead, sir. Right down that hall, to your right."

"Come in, sir," said Jim, when David appeared in his lab doorway. "I'm about done with the preliminary check."

David sat down, idly playing with a pen on the desk, while Jim finished his analysis.

"Well, sir," Jim said, turning to face David, papers clutched in his capable hands, "I'm glad you're sitting down. Looks to me like you just became a father — sir."

"Damn!" David bounced his fist softly against the desktop.

"Jim, are you absolutely sure?" he asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

"I'm very good at what I do, sir, " said Jim firmly. "Of course, I'll redo all of it, and I would like to check out the mother's sample, but Mark matches you completely in 50 percent of the categories, sir. That's as good a match as I can get. Mark should match his mother in the other 50 percent. That's the way it works. Of course, it will take longer to run her samples. I have to do all the preliminary work to get her DNA patterns first."

"I'm not really doubting you, Jim. I didn't mean that. It's just that this is a real mess. You don't know how bad." David shook his head.

"I probably shouldn't ask, sir, but how did you get into this? You and Mrs. Carlson have been married a long time."

"I knew Mark's mother long before I met Suzanne," David said, not looking at Jim. "I was very much in love with her. But we separated, before I ever met Suzanne."

"What happened? Why didn't you marry her, if you loved her?"

"Oh I loved her all right. I wanted to, but, she wouldn't have me," David answered, voice full of despair. "She left me and married her agent, who was in love with her."

"You lost me, sir. She obviously had some feeling for you, at least one time. She was carrying your baby and married somebody else?"

David leaned back in the swivel chair, balancing on two wheels. Talking might help the conflict going on inside his head.

"It gets complicated. She didn't know she was pregnant at the time. She's a novelist. Her first husband was a political activist, one of the anti-war protesters, in the early 70's. She's almost ten years older than me. I'd known them and fallen for her when we were neighbors. I met her again while she was on tour and I was ready to graduate from the Academy. Her husband had been killed in an accident. We shared one amazing weekend while I tried to convince her that I loved her and that we should be together. It didn't work."

David looked up briefly at Jim, who was quietly absorbing every word. "At the end of that weekend, she said that our two worlds wouldn't mix – said our lives were headed in different directions."

"She was probably right about that, sir," offered Jim.

"All I know is, she headed back to California and married her agent, the guy who was waiting for her — evidently carrying my child. And now, both our children's lives may be ruined, by that weekend fling years ago."

Jim scratched his chin and squinted an eye at David. "That's not all that'll be ruined, sir. Sounds like she may be throwing away her own life, if she's still married to the agent."

"She is. He thinks he's Mark's father. And she was content to let him think so, until we met again two days ago. They seem to be very happy."

Jim shook his head. "She stands to lose a whole bunch then. Maybe her son and her husband."

"I guess so. I hadn't really thought about it," said David dropping the chair back to the floor, pondering what Jim had said.

"Pretty unselfish, if you'll pardon me for saying so, sir. Sounds to me like she cares a lot about all of you."

"What do you mean?" Jim was seeing things differently than he did.

"She was the only one that knew, right? If she had been selfish, she could have just kept her mouth shut. She may be throwing away her marriage — her whole life, to protect the kids. Not everybody would do that."

David nodded reluctantly, remembering his own suggestion not to tell the kids.

"Maybe she left you for your own good, sir, " said Jim carefully, not wanting to anger David, yet trying to make some sense out of what David had just told him.

"How so?"

"You really think you would have made it to colonel with a wife who had been married to an anti-war protester? Not likely! Not in the seventies, sir," said Jim emphatically. "Sounds to me like she cared a lot about you. Enough to think about your career — even if you weren't — maybe?"

David sat there, staring at the floor. The veil of time lifted from his eyes and he saw Michelle's actions clearly for the first time. The anger he'd held onto for so long melted away. He held his head in his hands, sorry for all the time he'd missed with her, yet knowing Jim was right. She had made the right decision for him, career-wise, years ago. He'd spent that entire weekend telling her how important that career was to him. She'd believed him and made it possible for him to have the career he dreamed of – at the cost of their happiness. He shook his head. He'd been such a fool, then. He had to believe she was leading him to the right decision now, about what they were doing.

"You've got a tough time ahead of you, sir, but the kids are young. They'll survive." Jim said gently, using his best bedside manner.

"But that's not the worst of it, Jim." he said, looking up. "There's a baby on the way."

"Oh, no! Boy, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Jim paused then shook his head, "No, sir. Why don't you make sure I get the samples from Mark's mother. I want that complete test. I want to eliminate even a shadow of a doubt."

"I left a message for her last night," said David. "I should get them this morning."

"Fine. Just let me know when they get here."

"I'll bring them right over." David mumbled his appreciation, then walked out of the office. Jim watched as he left, then turned back to redo the comparisons, still shaking his head. He doubted he would find anything different.

David counted the minutes until the courier arrived at his office. Michelle was very efficient. The hotel clerk had stopped at David's office on his way in to work. He was surprised to find David waiting for him.

"Gee, this must be an important envelope," said the clerk, curious as to what could be worth a twenty-dollar delivery.

"It's important to us," said David crisply. "I do appreciate your being so prompt this morning. This should cover the early morning delivery," he said, handing the clerk another twenty dollar bill, pulled from his time-worn money clip.

The clerk's eyes popped open. He'd never delivered a forty-dollar envelope before. "Thank you sir," he said, quickly pocketing the money. "If you ever need anything else delivered, I'd be glad to oblige."

"I don't think so," said David, eyeing the clerk, turning the money clip over in his hand. The trace of that long-ago kiss tingled on his cheek. He'd loved her since then. What a different life they might have had. Shaking his head, with a deep sigh, he stuffed the clip back in his pocket. "I'm sure this will be the last of the little surprise we're working on, for Mr. Stevens. Thank you for being part of our effort."

"Oh, I get it," said the clerk, "something special for the lady's husband."

"Very observant," said David, wanting to make sure the clerk said nothing to anyone. "We do need your cooperation for a little while longer."

"Oh, you can count on me, sir. We hotel staff know when to keep our lips buttoned." The clerk headed off to work, satisfied that he was part of some secret plan to surprise Mr. Stevens. He could hardly wait.

David checked his watch. It seemed to be a reasonable time to call Karen. He had to risk getting Joe. They had to talk this morning. A phone message would not do.

Joe was in the shower when the phone rang. He heard Karen talking. She popped her head in the bathroom door. "You're going with Mark again this morning, right?"

"Yes," he shouted over the noise of the spray. "Where are you headed?"

"I had the front desk check on a historic house tour for me." She shouted back, with small lie number two. "You two would hate it."

"You're right," he yelled back. "Have a good time. We'll see you after lunch."

She said something more into the phone, then hung up. Once Joe was dressed, they went downstairs for breakfast. They sat in the gazebo, overlooking the trout stream. Karen alternately ate bites and tossed bites to the fish.

"I'm going to relax and feed the fish, until my tour bus gets here," she said. "It's very relaxing, watching them swim under the bridge."

"Fine," said Joe, eyeing Mark walking in the lobby door. "My outward bound guide is here again."

"Be careful," she said, kissing his cheek. "Don't overdo."

"I won't," said Joe, rubbing the center of his chest. "I'm going to stop in the gift shop and get something for this heartburn. It's been bothering me all night."

She gave Mark a "hello" kiss. "Take better care of your father. He's not the walker you are."

Mark looked at his dad, realizing that he really didn't look like he felt too good. "Are you sure you want to go, dad? We can just stay here, if you like."

Karen bit her lip as Joe considered Mark's question. It would get very awkward if they didn't leave soon. Finally Joe said, "No, I'm okay. I just need something for this heartburn. Let's go, son."

Karen kissed them both and waved them out the door. She tossed bread crumbs to the fish until David appeared. He hadn't wasted any time. He had almost not given them enough time for breakfast. The three of them nearly met in the lobby. She didn't like cutting things that close.

The lobby clerk saw him come in and smiled knowingly. Obviously plans were moving right along. Tonight was going to bring something exciting.

"Come upstairs," she said. "They won't be back 'til later."

Silently riding the elevator to the third floor, she watched the floors disappear through the glass-fronted elevator, feeling as though her world were slipping away along with the ground below. Once in the living room of the suite, she turned to face him, her back steeled against what he might say.

"He's my son," David said simply. There was no other way to say it.

Karen sank into the overstuffed chair, shaking her head. "David, are they sure?"

"For all practical purposes, yes. They want to check your samples, of course. I dropped them off before I came here. Mine and Mark's match."

"What now, David?" Karen asked, her throat dry, her mouth turned to cotton. "How are we going to tell them?"

"I guess the same way I just told you. Short, straight, and to the point."

"There's no easy way to do this," she said, her heart aching. "I want to tell Joe alone, before we tell Mark. He deserves to hear it from me, not in a group."

"Of course," David agreed. Joe was going to be deeply hurt by all this. David liked him, in spite of himself. Mark was a fine young man. He'd obviously had a good role model.

"Why don't you two bring Mark over to the house tonight? Let's tell the kids together. Then they'll know they're being told the same story. I'm not going to tell Suzanne ahead of time. She won't be able to keep still and I want Jenny to hear it from me, with Mark there. 'Cause that's not all, Michelle. There's a baby on the way."

At that, Karen's stomach knotted up, with a gut-wrenching grab, "Oh no, David."

David nodded, miserable. "Jenny told me last night. That's why the rush about the wedding. They weren't going to tell anyone. We're lucky they told us before they got married, Michelle."

"Then we have to tell them tonight. We have no choice."

He nodded again. "The sooner things are taken care of the better."

"I should have died when Mark was born," said Karen, bitterly. "I wouldn't be around now to ruin their lives. It seems like all I do is hurt the people I love."

David pulled her up out of the chair and shook her, hard. "Don't ever say that. You made Eric very happy. He loved you very much. You've obviously made Joe happy and you've been a wonderful mother to Mark. He's a fine young man. You've raised him well."

His voice dropped. He looked deep into her eyes, holding her by the shoulders, continuing, "and you loved me enough to give me the life I thought I wanted. You loved me enough to leave me."

Karen stared back at him, her glazed eyes not registering that she understood what he was saying.

"I've always loved you, Michelle. I still do. I hope we don't destroy your marriage with this. It looks like Joe loves you very much. My marriage is beyond saving, and that's my problem. But for God's sake, don't ever wish you weren't here. The world needs more people like you."

With that, he kissed her soundly, then turned on his heel and headed to the door. "Come by about seven. We'll be waiting."

Karen stared at the door he had just closed. She was too numb to fully realize David had just told her he finally understood what she had done years ago. She was too upset to take any comfort in that, or even in the fact that he had said he still loved her.

Her motherly heart was breaking over the fact that a grandbaby was on the way. One that should not, and could not be welcomed.

******

Karen had worked magic on her face and manner by the time Joe and Mark appeared.

"We have an after dinner invitation at the Carlson's, Mark," She said a trifle too brightly. "Why don't you pick us up this evening, so we can be there at seven. I'm sure you have things to do this afternoon, dear. We'll be ready then."

"Okay. I'll see you again in a little while," he agreed and left their room, waving good-bye as he closed the door. Karen turned to Joe. "Did you have a good morning?"

"Oh, yes," said Joe, starting to tell her about their travels. She listened 'til he finished. Then her smile faded, and she said, "I guess there's no good way to do this. Sit down Joe, here by me. Take me in your arms, please. I have a terrible story to tell you."

Sitting next to him on the couch, leaning back against him, and holding his arms tightly around her, she began to talk — telling Joe the inescapable facts; that Mark was not his biological son, about her short weekend with David before they married, of her love for Joe himself, and lastly of the baby on the way.

He had started to withdraw his arms at one point, then held her tighter and tighter, while their life unraveled with Karen's every word.

"So that weekend you disappeared — here?" Joe managed to make the statement sound like a question.

"I was with David." she said quietly. "He loved me very much, Joe. And I admit I could have loved him. I was caught between my feelings for him, my ghosts of the past and my feelings for you. I decided to leave him here, and come home to you, to your love, to try to make a life with you. I didn't know I was pregnant. I had no idea."

"What happens now?" he asked in a daze, not knowing what to say. Karen's story spun crazily in his mind.

"We want to tell the kids tonight. Something has to be decided about the baby, now. I guess Suzanne doesn't know about the baby. And she doesn't know any of the other things I've just told you. David thinks we should tell them all together, so they hear the same story at the same time."

"And when did you talk to David about all this?' he asked, suddenly resenting this man who knew more than he did.

"This morning," she said, knowing that Joe would understand she had lied to him about this morning's activities. "We've had genetic tests run in the last two days. We wanted to find out for sure before we upset everyone. If the tests had gone the other way, our weekend would have been just a fling before either one of us got married and it would have hurt no one. Jenny and Mark could have been married. You and I would have gone back to Anaheim and I would have never seen David again, unless you were there. Please, Joe, try to understand."

She pleaded with him, knowing how awful this must sound.

"I don't understand anything," he said angrily, releasing his hold on her. "Our son has to give up the girl he loves and the baby they're expecting because he's not really my son. Because you were expecting another man's child when we got married. That's the bottom line, right?"

The anger seethed in the pit of his stomach.

"That's right. But, I didn't know I was. I really didn't." Karen hated the pain she saw in Joe's face. She could tell he was hurting — and she was the cause of it. She held out her hands to him, but he brushed them aside, moving away from her.

"And your doubts about marrying me. They were because of David, not Eric, weren't they." said Joe, suddenly realizing that the past was not at all what he'd thought it to be.

"That's right," said Karen slowly. It was time to be totally honest with him. He deserved the whole truth. "I'd give anything to make it different."

Joe stood up slowly. His gut knotted up, hard and twisted, wringing his nerves, sending stabbing pains upward to his brain. "I need time to think, Karen. You've been keeping all sorts of things from me for a long, long time."

"Not that much. Really. I didn't want to hurt you at all," she said, her voice breaking in anguish. "Mark could have belonged to either of you. I thought we could be happy together and we have been. Mark is your son. He'll never be anyone else's son, no matter what the biologist says."

Joe continued to glare at her.

"Please, remember I love you, now," Karen pleaded, desperately. "I told you when we got married that you loved me more than I loved you. But you were willing to take that chance. You said you were willing to wait for my love to grow. Well, it has grown Joe. I do love you now, and I would never do anything deliberately to hurt you."

"Wouldn't you?" he asked, looking at her coldly. "You married me while you thought you might love someone else. You never told me my son might not be my son. You just said you would have allowed us to become in-laws with one of your old lovers and not told me. I'd say that was deliberate. And that hurts."

He turned his back on her and walked into the bedroom. Karen burst into tears. He closed the door behind him, shutting her out. Joe paced angrily in the bedroom, trying to sort out his thoughts and feeling. He rummaged in one of their bags until he found a slightly squashed pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, he drew a great puff, filling his lungs deep to help calm his nerves, so he could think straight.

He wanted to kill David one minute, Karen the next. The thought of Karen in another man's arms ate at him, dug into him like a knife. The pain in his chest flamed, consuming him. He crushed out the cigarette and continued to pace, trying to absorb what Karen had just said.

His mind raced over the past, putting together little things that made perfectly good sense now. He had wondered why Karen had gotten pregnant when she did. They had made love many times before they got married, with no unexpected results.

Obviously, a different man had made the difference with Karen. He didn't want to imagine what had occurred between them to make that difference. The thought of Karen making love to David assaulted Joe's mind again and again. He puffed and puffed away, trying to force himself to think rational thoughts.

He lit another cigarette and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring out the window. He reached for the ashtray, knocking over a vase.

"Damn, Damn, DAMN!" he yelled, scooping up the offending vase, heaving it against the wall. It hit with a resounding crash, splintering into thousands of pieces. The sound of the shattering vase carried through the door. That very physical act seemed to shatter the anger and hurt building in Joe. He sat there shaking, staring at the glass shards lying all over the floor.

An odd sense of calm began to quietly envelope him. Standing, he began to pace again, carefully avoiding the glass. His pacing slowed to a walk. He knew deep down, he could never actually harm either of them. He loved Karen, no matter how angry he was over the deception. He finally stopped at the side of the bed, seeing the picture of the three of them on the night stand. Mark's tiny hands held Karen's and his own. A stranger in the park had taken the picture for them. Karen had put it there. She always carried it when she traveled.

He picked it up. Staring at the bubbly little boy in the center of the picture, he tried to think about his son. Mark would be devastated by the loss of his love and his baby. He would need his father beside him. And, he admitted to himself, Mark would need his mother. Now was not the time to make him choose between his parents, as he dealt with losing his fiancée and baby.

Joe was too big-hearted to exclude Karen, even though he ached inside. He finally sat down, thinking about what Karen had said. He had to admit that everything she reminded him of was true. She had said she didn't love him as much as he loved her. She had tried to warn him before they got married.

And he had said that he didn't care what was in her past. He crushed out the cigarette butt and lit yet another. He had told her his love was big enough for both of them. But most of all, he believed her — that she didn't know she was pregnant when they got married. He remembered how stunned she'd been when the doctor had told her. That hadn't been an act. Even she wasn't that good.

He sat on the edge of the bed, pressing his palms against each side of his head, trying to push away the buzzing, so he could think. Since he believed Karen, he had to figure out how he could forgive her for not telling him about David and go on with their life. This evening was going to be awful. They both had to be there one hundred percent for Mark. He would have to look at David and not want to throttle him, just for being there. He would have to stop imagining scenes between David and Karen. Joe lay back again, staring at the ceiling, rubbing his chest, while the heartburn got worse.

The afternoon crawled by. Joe remained in the bedroom. Karen sat on the couch, not knowing what to do next. She had heard the breaking glass. It frightened her. Joe was not a violent man. She had driven him to his breaking point. Her normal resourcefulness had deserted her. She had no clue as to what he was going to do next, she only knew that his was the next move. She wiped her eyes for the hundredth time with one of the tissues she'd found in the cabinet. Fortunately these suites were stocked for emergencies. Pressing her fist to her forehead, she closed her eyes, wishing something would happen in the next room.

Finally, the bedroom door opened. Joe walked slowly over to her and stood, staring at her on the couch. She returned his gaze steadily, blinking away tears. He finally said, "You're right, Karen. I told you I'd take my chances with you from the beginning."

He reached down, took her hands and pulled her to him. "I'm disappointed and angry you didn't tell me about David. But, no matter what happened between you two before we were married, I still want you to be here. I may be a fool, but I still love you."

He brushed away the tears sliding down Karen's cheek as he continued, looking deep into her eyes, "It's gonna take me a while. From now on, Mark will remind me there was someone else in your life before me. But you're right, he is my son. And yours. And tonight, he's going to need us both."

She nodded wordlessly. He pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms, as if to seal out the world. David wasn't going to steal her away. She was his wife and he was going to keep it that way. His family was the most important thing in the world to him, and she was the center of it.

Karen said, "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. We'll get through this one way or another." She lay her head on his shoulder, returning his embrace. "You're a very special man, Joseph. That's why I love you so."

******

"Well, I see your father's left early," said Suzanne, handing David's note to Jenny.

"Hmmm," murmured Jenny, sipping her coffee, while reading her father's scribble. "I'm glad all my finals are done, Mom. We have time to go shopping today. I do want you to help me find a dress for the wedding."

Jenny looked across the table at her mother, hoping for a positive response.

Suzanne sighed. "Well, if you're absolutely certain about this quickie wedding, I suppose we could go. I'm not going to have you married under a tree in a gunny sack."

"I was just kidding, Mom. We could have a small wedding here at home, though. It's big enough for family and a few friends. We have a beautiful house."

Suzanne glanced toward the front of the house, smiling slightly, "Well, I have tried to do my best with it."

Jenny pressed on, knowing her mother's weak spot. "It's beautiful mom, and you know it. We could fill it with fresh flowers — and be married in front of the fireplace. You know, rearrange the furniture and drape the mantle..."

She left the sentence incomplete, watching her mother's face. She could tell Suzanne was already seeing the room in her mind, creating the perfect small wedding scene.

"Well, it could be attractive, if it's done well. But so quickly, dear?"

"Oh, Mom. You know everybody. I've seen you whip up parties for fifty people in three days. I know you can do it, if you decide to." Jenny smiled. Her mother seemed to be in a better mood.

Suzanne smiled back. Jenny was a dear, though spoiled. "Finish your coffee and get dressed. We have a lot of things to do today, if we're going to have an acceptable wedding in a week."

She shook her head at the thought. But if they were adamant, she'd rather have a hand in the wedding. She didn't want to be completely left out of Jenny's plan.

Jenny smiled, shoving away from the table. "I'll be right down, I need to have shopping clothes on."

Suzanne contemplated the steam rising from her cup as Jenny's footsteps clattered up the stairs. Twenty was so young. Shadows of another young couple, standing in front of a Justice of the Peace, shimmered in the steam. Jenny's wedding was going to be different than her own, she vowed. It might be small, but it would be perfect. A few special guests would make it an exclusive event, one to be talked about at the club, long after the children were gone. If she couldn't stop the wedding, she could at least orchestrate it.

Jenny returned to find Suzanne at her desk, lists already started. "See," she said, laughing, "I have the best organizer in the world. Mom, it will be a beautiful wedding, I know."

Jenny hugged her mom's shoulders, leaning over to see what was on the list. Suzanne patted her hand, holding the list up for her to read.

"Oh, yes. Ashley's does such beautiful flowers, Mom. They're perfect...and J P's bridal shop...their stuff is gorgeous...are you sure that's okay?"

"We only have one daughter. I think we can manage a gown from J P's, if you find what you want."

Jenny grinned at Suzanne, then frowned slightly as she continued to read. "Do we really need a caterer? This isn't going to be a big thing, Mom. I mean it."

"It will just be easier for me, dear. We'll have all the food brought in. That way I'll be able to concentrate on the house and you."

"That's fine." Jenny shrugged. "If you think they can do it quick enough."

"I'm sure they will. I'll talk to them. Are you ready?"

"Absolutely!"

******

"Just one more shop, Mom. Please?"

Jenny looked over at her mom, behind the wheel of the car. They'd been out all afternoon.

"I can't imagine where, Jennifer," said Suzanne, a trifle sharply. Jenny had resisted all her efforts for a more elaborate gown, which would require a more elaborate wedding. They hadn't found anything they agreed upon.

"Let's try Arriannes. They have lovely things."

"Very well, if you think so," said Suzanne, starting the car again for the umpteenth time.

******

"Now, that is nice," said Suzanne, a trifle surprised.

"It's beautiful, Mom, just what I've been looking for," exclaimed Jenny. They both gazed into the full length mirror. Jenny swung from one side to the other, watching the pearl-edged scalloped hem ripple around her calves.

"This short veil would be the perfect compliment for the gown, don't you think?" commented the clerk, carefully placing a gossamer creation, with pearl-encrusted roses curling to one side, on Jenny's head. Slipping a bouquet into Jenny's hand, she stepped back to allow the picture to form.

The cloud of ecru lace perfectly matched the ecru lace of the body skimming, tea length dress. "Oh, yes," said Suzanne, "that just sets it off."

The dress shimmered with seed pearls, sliding down the princess seaming, lining the scalloped neckline and sleeves. Simple, yet elegant. They had similar tastes.

"With matching hose and shoes, you're all set. We don't even have to dye shoes. You can get ecru, just this same shade," commented the clerk, sensing an impending sale. "And it fits. It doesn't even have to be altered."

"Of course not!" said Jenny. "It was meant for me, Mom."

"Yes, dear. I like it, too. We can take the entire ensemble with us today, if you like."

"Oh, yes. I'd like that very much."

"Wrap it up," Suzanne said, handing the clerk her card. "And include the veil, hose and shoes. Jenny, you'll have to try them on, too."

"Oh, Mom, you are wonderful," Jenny exclaimed, giving Suzanne another hug. "I love it. Everything's going to be marvelous."

"I hope so, dear. For your sake, I hope so."

******

In her room, Jenny carefully hung the dress on a hanger, over the closet door, and spread the rest of her finery out on the bed. She wanted to show her father when he came home. She wanted to share her joy with him. Mom had finally entered into the spirit of the wedding. Things were going to be all right.

Chapter 7

"Well," said Jenny, happily surveying the living room where her parents, plus Mark and his parents, had congregated once again. "I hope the rest of you had as good a day today as we did."

She waved a graceful hand toward her mother. "We got the flowers taken care of, food arranged for and even found a perfect wedding dress. We've decided to hand write invitations. It's much more personal and quicker. Who says you can't get married in a week?"

Jenny smiled again, this time toward Mark. Things were moving along just fine. As soon as he graduated, they would be man and wife. Her mother seemed reconciled to their marriage, once Jenny had agreed that they could wait a few days for her grandparents to make the trip to Colorado Springs.

Mark wasn't scheduled to leave for a week after graduation, so they did have a little time. Jenny looked around the room again, puzzled. Mark's parents and her father looked almost grim, as though something were bothering all of them.

"Is anything wrong?" she finally asked. "You all look awfully somber for a wedding party."

She tossed her head and laughed again.

"Well, yes, Jenny," said Karen, standing up. "I'm afraid there is something wrong. Something we have to talk about, now."

Karen tried to continue, then faltered. Mark moved quickly to Jenny's side. He didn't like this at all. His mother was as white as a sheet and his father looked terrible. Jenny's father didn't look much better. David stepped into the breach.

"What Mark's mother is trying to say, Jenny dear, is that there isn't going to be any wedding. Not in a week, not ever." David said directly, waiting for the coming reaction. Jenny's response was instantaneous.

"What are you talking about? Of course there is. We've already talked about it, Dad. Why would you try to stop us now?"

Suzanne's head snapped up, staring at David. Jenny had grabbed Mark's hand. He wrapped his arm around her instinctively, as if to protect her from her father's words. They both stood defiantly in front of David.

"I intend to marry Jenny, sir," Mark said angrily, "no matter whether you or anyone else approves. And that includes you, Mom."

Mark directed the remark toward his mother, since she seemed to be a party to this confrontation.

"It isn't a matter of approving, Mark, " David said, almost wearily. "Unfortunately, you two can't be married, since Jenny, you're my daughter and Mark, you are my son."

"What!" Mark exclaimed, looking back and forth from Karen to David, then at his dad for confirmation. Joe nodded in agreement, angry with himself and Karen and David for having to agree with what David had just said. Jenny clutched Mark's arm, terrified by the news.

Suzanne found her tongue. "Whatever in the world are you talking about David? How could Mark possibly be your son?"

"It's a long story, Suzanne. I promise I'll tell you. But the bottom line is, Mark is my son. We've had the genetics test run at the medical lab in the last two days. And there's no doubt about it. Mark is my son, and Karen's son."

Suzanne paled at the mention of genetic tests. "You mean you matched up Jenny's genes and yours and mine and Mark's and everybody else's? How could you do such a thing? I don't believe those things are always right, anyway."

"We matched Mark's and mine and Michelle's. That's all that's necessary. And yes, they are very accurate. The service accepts the tests, Suzanne, just like police departments and other agencies that have to prove who people are. They are right nearly all of the of the time. Of course, we're having them redone. But I don't expect anything to change."

"Humph." Suzanne covered her reaction to this news. She hadn't wanted the two to be married anyway. Now a solution had just been laid at her feet. And what a delicious solution, it was. Mr. Straight Arrow had a bastard son. She had been right about David and his past — relationship — with Mrs. Stevens. Never mind that they hadn't been married yet, when he was with Michelle or Karen or whatever her name was, since Mark was older than Jenny. Never mind that Michelle-Karen wasn't married to Joseph when she and David had been "carrying on." This was almost too good to be true. Jenny would get over Mark. She would see to that. Things could be worse.

Jenny shook her head, trying to shake away the awful words. "No! It can't be true. We can't be brother and sister, we can't be. Daddy, say it isn't so!"

"I wish I could, sweetheart," he said softly, reaching out to take her hand. "I wish I could."

"But Dad, " Jenny whimpered, "What about the baby? What about your grandchild?"

Suzanne gasped. A baby? No wonder they had been in such a hurry.

David placed his hands on Jenny's shoulders and said quietly, "Perhaps the pregnancy shouldn't be allowed to progress any further."

The words tore themselves from his lips. He couldn't bring himself the say the "A" word, yet Jenny understood what he was suggesting. Her reaction was violent.

"No, No, NO!" she screamed, tearing loose from him. She turned and bolted for the front door. Everyone but Suzanne rushed after her. Suzanne walked slowly toward the door after them. She would allow events to take the course they were on. Things would work out better this way. Jenny would be much better off without this young man and this baby. She certainly didn't want David's old lover to be the grandmother of her daughter's child.

She was not worried about the baby being healthy. What the two of them, or David for that matter, didn't know, wouldn't hurt them. When she reached the door, her manner changed. Jenny was heading toward the front of the yard, toward the street. Suzanne, too, started to run. She didn't want anything serious to happen to Jenny.

Jenny darted out the front door like a wounded deer, fleeing the horrible pronouncement. She ran into the evening shadows, across the front lawn, toward the line of imposing cedar trees that shielded the house from the busy city street in front.

Mark dashed after her. "Jenny, no. Don't run! Jenny, wait!"

His voice only urged her on. To think that she would never be his wife was unimaginable.

"Jenny, don't!" Mark shouted, hearing the car on the other side of the trees. He was fast, but she had too big a head start.

She paid him no heed. She plunged full force through the trees, never noticing the pine needles that ripped at her face and skin — stinging, holding, tearing at her — as if the trees themselves were trying to slow her down.

In a flash, she was through and into the street. She never noticed the curbing; never heard the tires squeal as she loomed suddenly in front of the panicked driver. She never felt the force of the car, striking her with a horrible thud, tossing her into the air like a rag doll.

"No — Oh, NO!" Mark cried out again, coming through the trees. Jenny lay in a broken heap on the pavement, very quietly. The driver of the car was already out beside her, babbling to himself as much as to Mark.

"I didn't see her. I couldn't stop. Heaven help me, I couldn't stop."

"Go up to the house," Mark yelled, giving the driver a shove. "Call an ambulance!"

It seemed like a million years passed as Mark knelt beside Jenny, in the street. He heard his parents and her parents around them, but his eyes were only for Jenny. He could hear sirens wailing, first in the distance, then closer and closer. The barest whisper breaths crossed her unconscious lips. He could detect a faint pulse in her wrist, but he was afraid to move her. He didn't know what internal damage she'd suffered. Her arm jutted out onto the pavement at an unnatural angle. That arm was obviously broken.

Finally, the sirens screamed in his ears. The ambulance stopped beside them. She had uttered no sound at all. Joe and David continued to direct traffic around the scene. The paramedics took over, gently replacing Mark at Jenny's side.

After checking her vital signs, they placed a protective collar around her neck, then stabilized her arm. Finally, they carefully lined her up on a backboard to minimize any further damage. An unconscious moan escaped her lips when they moved her. Mark winced and touched her hand, but there was no response. David touched one of the paramedic's arm. "Where will you take her?"

"City Hospital is closest. We'll head there."

David nodded, turning back to Joe and Karen. Suzanne stood silently, shredding a tissue between her fingers. This certainly wasn't in her plans.

While the paramedics loaded Jenny into the ambulance, David said a few words to Karen and Joe. Joe nodded tersely. Suzanne, wide-eyed and shaking, climbed into the back with Jenny and the doors closed. Mark tried to follow, but David blocked his way.

"I think you should come with your folks, Mark," he said, quietly. Mark started to protest. He didn't want to be separated from Jenny, not now, not ever.

"He's right, son, we'll be right behind them. Give me your keys, I'll drive." said Joe sternly, when Mark hesitated. Mark was in no shape to drive a car. He wasn't sure he was.

"But you don't know where the hospital is," Mark said, angrily.

"I know that," Joe returned, "that's why you're going to ride with us, to tell me the way. I'm going to make sure we get there without getting into another accident."

Mark stopped trying to argue and handed his dad the keys. They pulled out of the driveway just behind David, who was hot on the heels of the ambulance, already streaking toward the hospital, red lights and sirens going full blast.

Jenny was in an emergency care room when they rushed into the hospital's emergency entrance. Mark bounded up to the desk.

"Where have they taken Jennifer Carlson? She's my fiancée. I want to see her!"

The charge nurse tried to react to Mark's question. Hearing his voice, Suzanne came through a set of double doors. She descended upon Mark, eyes blazing in self-righteous indignation. "It's your fault Jenny's here. She's not your fiancée any longer, young man, thanks to your own mother! Didn't you understand that earlier? You're not ever going to be married to her. You're not even going to see her again, if I have anything to say about it!"

The charge nurse stared. She'd seen many a stress reaction in her day , but this one topped them all. She grabbed her clipboard and frantically made notes on the new record she'd started for the Carlson girl.

Suzanne turned on her heel and screeched at Karen and Joe. "I told David Jenny shouldn't get involved with people like you! I didn't realize he already was involved with you! But maybe I can keep Jenny away from harm, if she pulls through this."

"Suzanne, that's enough," said David sharply, trying to stop her outburst. He had followed her out of the emergency room.

"No it's not enough," she shrieked. She was going to try to stop this, now that she had the chance.

"You're not welcome here!" she screamed in Karen and Joe's direction. "Take your bastard son and go! Haven't you done enough damage for one night!"

The charge nurse peered over her clipboard. If this kept up, she'd call for security. Karen was appalled at this latest turn of events. She had never expected Suzanne to direct her anger toward Mark–she and David, of course, but not Mark. David and Joe stared at one another. The pain on their faces spoke volumes.

"Please go for now," David said calmly, physically restraining Suzanne, to stop her further advance. "There's nothing you can do to help Jenny right now."

"I'm not going home," said Mark determinedly, "but I will go down to the coffee shop, if that will suit you, sir."

His eyes defiantly met David's, challenging him to say more. The military bearing in both came out in this crisis.

"Fine," said David, steering Suzanne back into the emergency room. He wanted to be with Jenny and he didn't want Suzanne screaming up and down the halls.

"Dad, if you and mom want to go back to the hotel, it's all right with me," Mark said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere and you both need some sleep."

"No, we'll stay here with you, at least for a while." The tone in Karen's voice settled the point. She had just destroyed her son's life and probably her husband's as well. She didn't want them separated right now.

The charge nurse spoke up. "Coffee shop's down the hall and to your right."

Joe glanced her way, nodding. "Thanks."

The nurse watched the three walk down the hall and turn the corner, then plopped down in her chair. Whew! What a scene. I'd like to know the rest of this story!

She returned to her charting, recording the event, in the notes section of Jenny's record. No telling who might need these observations.

Half an hour ticked by in the coffee shop, then an hour. No one spoke at all. They just sat there, staring into their cups.

Joe had found a place to smoke and had gone out several times. He'd bought a package of antacid mints at the counter to try to ease his indigestion, but they hadn't helped. Damn stomach–probably end up with an ulcer. The combination of smoke and antacid taste made him almost queasy. He walked back to the table and sat down, staring first at Karen, then at Mark, who both looked thoroughly miserable. What a mess.

David finally walked in. "Well, they have her stabilized. She's in critical condition."

"How bad is it?" asked Mark.

"She's got a severe concussion. She's still unconscious. Her head hit the pavement. She has several broken ribs and a broken shoulder, for sure, according to the x-rays," said David, as if ticking off a supply order. He was trying not to think about the dangers involved with all of the injuries. "They don't think there's any internal bleeding, so they're not planning to do anything else tonight. They may have to take some more x-rays tomorrow. They're just trying to minimize the brain swelling right now."

Karen cringed visibly. This was all like a bad dream. It was as though she were reliving her own accident years ago. She slumped against Joe and began to slide to the floor. The room swirled around her. Joe caught her, pulling her back into her chair to stop her fall. He held her 'til her head cleared.

"Joe," said David, "why don't you take her home? They're going to let Suzanne stay in with Jenny. I'll be here with Mark, all right?"

Joe didn't want to leave his son here with this man who had been identified as his "real" father, yet Karen needed to get out of this place. She didn't handle hospitals well. He couldn't ignore her misery, even though he was still angry about this whole situation.

"Mark, is that all right with you?" Joe asked.

"I think it's a good idea, Dad," Mark said. No matter what had been said, this was his father and always would be. "Mom's had just about all she can handle. You can see that."

"So have you," Joe said, looking intently at his son, while he kept his arm around Karen.

"I'll be fine," Mark said, straightening his shoulders, lifting his chin. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be here when Jenny wakes up. I don't care what anybody says."

"All right, I'll get your mom back to the hotel," Joe said, turning again to Karen. "Let's go. We'll come back in the morning." She nodded as Joe continued, "If you want to come back to the hotel with us Mark, just call. I'll come back and pick you up."

Mark nodded. Joe and Karen headed out to the car, leaving Mark and David to stare at one another across the table.

"Would you like some coffee, sir?" said Mark, trying to relieve the tension, mindful of his manners, even under this stress.

"Thank you, Mark, " said David, gratefully. This was a fine young man he had just inherited, even though it was still mind-boggling.

"You'll forgive me," Mark said, crisply. "I still don't understand this evening."

"Well, since we seem to have some time, let me see if I can explain it," said David. "You heard the story of when your mother and I met. What you didn't hear was the rest of it. Of how I loved your mother, and when we spent some time together, before she married your father."

As their coffee got cold, David tried to tell Mark of his love for Michelle, and of their brief but wonderful time together, when Mark was conceived.

David talked and Mark listened intently, trying to understand the events that had happened so long ago, events which were destroying his own dreams of happiness. Mark tried hard to picture his mother with this man. He liked Jenny's father very much, but he still could see his mother with no one but his father. They had always seemed so very happy with each other.

A white-coated man appeared in the coffee shop door. "Mr. Carlson?"

"Yes."

"I'm Dr. Sorenis. Could you come back to Emergency, please? We seem to have a bit of a problem with your daughter."

"What kind of a problem?" David and Mark rose together.

"She's experiencing some vaginal hemorrhaging and we don't know why."

"The baby!" David and Mark almost shouted at the doctor.

"What baby?" asked the doctor as they walk-trotted down the hall. "No one mentioned the young woman was pregnant."

"Her mother didn't tell you?" David asked, incredulously.

"No sir, no one said anything about a pregnancy." The doctor's face took on a horrified expression. "She's had all sorts of x-rays the last two hours."

He continued, taking stock of the situation. "She may need a transfusion, if we can't get the bleeding stopped. I'm afraid your wife hasn't been much help. At first, she wouldn't let us test her blood for a match with your daughter."

David frowned. "Why not?"

Dr. Sorenis shook his head. "She was fussing about being afraid of needles. I stressed the severity of Jenny's condition and she finally agreed to give us a sample."

David's frown deepened. Suzanne had never mentioned a fear of needles in the past. Sorenis continued. "We'd like to take yours, too. Your daughter may need more than one transfusion and yours would be the safest."

"Take mine, too," said Mark quickly, "It's as good as his."

David nodded to the doctor saying, "This is my daughter's fiancé."

There was no need to go into the evening's revelations with the doctor. Jenny's life hung in the balance. Since they were half brother and sister, their blood might match fine.

The doctor nodded absentmindedly as they neared ER. A miscarriage. That he could handle. He moved quickly into Jenny's room after speaking to the waiting med. tech. They were not taken to the same room as Suzanne. ER was busy tonight, so they sat just outside Jenny's room, while the med. tech drew blood. "I'll be right back," she promised.

Doctor Sorenis stepped back out of Jenny's room, looking grim. "I'm sorry. I don't think we're going to be able to stop the hemorrhaging to save the baby. Her body is spontaneously aborting the fetus. She's been injured too badly. Evidently the impact separated the placenta. I'll need your permission to do a D & C, if necessary, to stop the bleeding."

"You do whatever's necessary. Just save Jenny," said David. He didn't want to lose his beloved daughter. Mark made a sound, then was still. Sick at heart, he agreed with David, he didn't want to lose Jenny, either. No matter what had been said tonight, he loved her.

Suzanne walked out of the room next to Jenny's, a bandage on her arm from where they had drawn blood. She seemed startled when she saw the bandages on both their arms.

"How much blood do they need, anyway?" she asked petulantly. She glared at Mark. "I'm surprised you're still here."

David answered her. "Mark was in the coffee shop. They wanted to make sure they had plenty of donors, just in case, and he volunteered."

"Hmm." Suzanne seemed content to let the matter drop. She sat down in the chair next to David.

In a short while, the med. tech came back down the hall, lab papers in hand. She gave the group a curious look, then disappeared into Jenny's room.

Dr. Sorenis emerged from the room, with a quizzical expression on his face.

"You are Jenny's parents?" he asked, looking at David and Suzanne.

"Yes, of course we are," said Suzanne, quickly.

"And you're the fiancé," the doctor said to Mark.

"Yes sir, why?"

"Come with me." he said abruptly. "I want to do another test. Right now it looks like the only blood that matches Jenny's is yours."

"What?" David couldn't believe his ears. Mark stared at the doctor blankly.

"That's right," the doctor said, addressing the three. "You two both have B positive blood. Jenny's is type A positive. And so, evidently, is yours, young man."

"Well, that's what my mom's is, too," said Mark. "I needed a transfusion when I was young and they used mom's blood. It was a better match than my dad's type O."

"Come along," said Sorenis. "I'm sure she's going to need at least a pint. We may have to get your mother, as well, if she's available, if things don't get better."

The two of them disappeared, leaving David and Suzanne to face one another in the hallway. Suzanne had put on a totally non-committal, so-what look at the doctor's comment. David's rage began to build. He'd just lost a daughter as well as gained a son this day. Standing, he faced Suzanne, with the wrath of 20 years booming his voice. "You knew all along, didn't you, Suzanne? And you weren't going to tell them."

"Tell them what?"

"There was no need for the kids to worry. They can still be married! Because Jenny's not my daughter, is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Suzanne said, tossing her head unconcernedly, turning away from him.

"Don't you pull Miss Innocent with me," he snarled between gritted teeth, grabbing her, yanking her to her feet to face him. "They just did an old-fashioned paternity test, Suzanne. A child has to have the blood type of one of its parents. Since Jenny doesn't have your blood type and we know she's your daughter, she should have matched mine. With A positive blood, she can't be my daughter. Whose is she, Suzanne?"

David shook Suzanne, literally rattling her teeth with the force of his anger. "Tell me now!"

"Who do you think she belongs to!" she snapped at him, more angry than afraid. She yanked her arm from his grasp. "Who else would you think? She's Jack's daughter."

Pushing him away, she taunted him. "He always was more of a man than you. He certainly was the best man at our wedding. Who do you think kept me company while you were busy becoming a colonel? And who do you think still stops in to see me whenever you're gone or whenever I call? Your best friend, that's who!"

David raised a hand as if to strike her, then let it fall. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of causing him to do something so against his own moral code "That's why you were crying that night. You'd just told him about the baby hadn't you?"

Suzanne shrugged. "Perhaps."

"No wonder you were in such a hurry to marry me. Any husband would do in a pinch, right?"

Dr. Sorenis stood quietly, by the ER door. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to interrupt.

Suzanne faced David, nostrils flaring, eyes narrowed. "You were the one who said you were going to war and might not come back. Our marriage suited you too."

"But you never told me you were already carrying a child, Jack's child. And you knew it, didn't you."

"Silly. Of course I knew it. And I knew the baby would need a father. You would have known too, if you'd paid any attention to me at all."

David's eyes turned stone gray as he stared at her. He vowed to himself that he would not spend another night more than absolutely necessary with this woman. She had been willing to sacrifice her daughter's happiness to keep her own secret. She had lied to him their entire marriage. It was time to stop. "You're right. I should have known."

He turned away and saw Sorenis at the doorway. At the doctor's motion he headed into Jenny's room. Suzanne sat down in the chair outside Jenny's room. Things had happened so quickly, she was not prepared to cope. She sat there, trying to decide what her next action should be.

David was amazed at the scene inside the room. The doctors had placed Mark on a table next to Jenny and were taking blood from him, then giving it to Jenny. Sorenis stepped beside David. "I'm concerned, Mr. Carlson. We're not getting any response from her. I think she can hear us, but it's like she doesn't care if she lives or dies."

"Well, maybe I can change that," David said "May I talk to her?"

"Yes, just don't touch any of the equipment."

David stepped to the head of the tables, where Mark could hear him as well. He placed a hand on her shoulder and started to talk.

"Jenny, honey, listen to me. No matter what happened earlier, you are going to be able to marry Mark. Believe me, darling. We've found a way." He shook her gently and repeated what he had just said. A slight moan escaped her lips. The doctor nodded. They watched the needles jump on the monitoring machines.

"Jenny, Mark is right here beside you, and you are going to get married. You just have to get better."

This time, Jenny responded with a murmur and a slight movement of her head.

The doctor smiled. "That's what we need. Keep telling her that."

David directed his next remark to Mark, who was looking at him, totally bewildered. "I'll explain when you get out of here. We've sort of played musical parents tonight. It seems that Jenny doesn't belong to me. I may be your father, but I'm not hers."

"What in the world...?" started Mark, but David silenced him.

"Later, okay? Let's concentrate on Jenny." Mark nodded, although he was by now completely confused. But he was elated. If it meant that he and Jenny could be married, he didn't really care what had happened between Jenny's parents.

"Mark," said the doctor, following David's lead, "talk to her, encourage her to talk to you. Let's see if we can get her out of that semi-consciousness — get her blood pressure back up."

Mark began to talk to Jenny across the table, encouraging her, telling her he loved her. She began to rouse as she heard Mark's voice, even though she was not conscious yet.

David walked back into the emergency ward hallway as yet another ambulance patient rolled through the door. Suzanne was still sitting there, not yet grasping the finality of her confrontation with David.

Chapter 8

In their hotel suite, Joe sat on the bed, leaning back against his pillow. The bed had been turned down in their absence and all traces of the broken vase had vanished. The hotel staff was discreet and efficient. He still had on his suit pants, but was down to his T-shirt. He'd kicked off his shoes. The shirt and tie had seemed to be strangling him. He idly wondered why the heat was on in the room. It was entirely too hot.

Karen had slipped into her jogging suit. Recovered from her dizziness at the hospital, she paced the floor, wanting to know what was going on. It seemed to her that they had been back at the hotel for hours, when the clock showed that not more than 45 minutes had actually passed since they left the hospital.

She stared out the window absentmindedly. She didn't even turn her head when Joe said quietly, "Karen, would you fix me a seltzer? I've got a bad case of indigestion."

She nodded and without looking at him, went to the bathroom. She returned with the glass and stood beside the bed, rooted to the spot, while Joe tried to reach for the glass with his left arm. He couldn't make it work.

"Sorry," he said, sweat pouring off his face. "This pain in my chest is getting to me. I can't even move my arm without it hurting like hell."

"Oh, Joe," she exclaimed, "why didn't you say something!"

The glass hit the floor, its fall broken by the thick carpet. It rolled away, sloshing its contents along the path. She dropped to her knees beside him. She mopped the sweat from his brow with her hand, frightened by the grayness appearing in his face. She had seen all this before, when her father had his heart attack. She knew all the signs.

"I'm fine," he said unevenly, trying to reassure himself as much as her, "just a little indiges.s.s.t..i..o..." His words trailed off. The crushing pain stabbed deeper into his chest. He clutched feebly at his chest with his right hand, slumping forward, over the pain. He tried again to reach for Karen with his useless left hand. He needed her now.

She caught the limp hand and held it tightly. "Oh Joe, hold on!"

His tongue lolled out and his eyes rolled back. He slipped away, knowing only that the vice in his chest was clamping down, tighter and tighter. He couldn't draw a breath. He couldn't even whisper a last word.

Karen leaped to her feet and headed out the door of their room, to the balcony outside. "Help me!" she screamed to the hotel personnel in the atrium below. "My husband is having a heart attack. Get an ambulance!"

Her words echoed into the huge space. Waiters and bus boys ran in several directions. Karen disappeared into the room again, leaving the door open. The desk clerk who had delivered the message that morning looked up sharply and joined the rush. This certainly wasn't the surprise he had expected.

When she got back, Joe had crumpled into a deathly still heap on the bed. Karen yanked him onto the floor with superhuman strength. She got him stretched out, and quickly checked for breath, getting no pulse in his neck. There was no movement. As if in a trance, Karen tipped his head back and blew three quick puffs into his starkly open mouth. After losing both her parents, Karen had learned CPR. She had vowed to herself that she would never again stand by helplessly and watch a loved one die.

Putting the heels of her hands on Joe's breast bone, she began the pushing motion, to force his heart to pump, to keep blood flowing to his brain until the ambulance got there. She was his only hope. Nothing was happening on its own. By the time the first busboys got there, she had repeated the cycle several times. "Do any of you know CPR?" she pleaded, "His heart's stopped, I'm sure."

"Yes ma'am" said one of the young men. "Let us take over for you."

In an instant two of them were beside Joe, forcing him to breathe, forcing his heart to pump. Karen stepped back, covering her mouth with her hands.

She sat down on the bed and watched numbly. The young men matched a perfect rhythm, breathing and heart pumps. But it seemed to be having no effect. Joe was still, absolutely still. Karen could hear the ambulance siren wailing. She prayed silently, Not again, please not again.

The paramedics burst through the door of the room, portable heart unit in hand. Their quick check showed them that, indeed, there was still no breath, no pulse.

"Ma'am it's up to you. We have to ask these days. Do you want us to try extraordinary measures to bring him back?" the paramedic asked, as gently as he could.

"Oh, yes," said Karen quickly. She couldn't bear the thought of not trying every thing to save him.

"Okay. Hank, let's get the paddles ready." The two men quickly set up the unit and bared Joe's chest as a busboy kept up the breathing.

"Everyone, please stand clear." said the second paramedic. Then "Hit it, now!"

The electric current shot through him. Joe's body convulsed off the floor, but the trace remained flat on the scope.

"Once more, Now!"

Another convulsion tore through him, to no avail. The trace remained flat. Tears began to roll silently down Karen's cheeks. Her stomach contracted into a hard, cold knot inside. She knew what that flat line meant.

"I think we need to take him to the hospital, ma'am," said the first paramedic.

"Yes, please," said Karen quietly. She didn't want to give up hope this quickly. She rode up front with the driver while the attendants worked on Joe in the back. Karen could feel a cold chill settle over her. She'd made this ride with her father and her mother and no one had been able to do anything.

Her insides churned as they drove, sirens wailing. She fought to remain calm, in control. She needed to be there, rational, to answer the doctors questions. She was losing her husband and there was nothing she could do. The paramedics shoved through the emergency room doors, making a valiant effort to save him.

Karen rushed in, heartsick, realizing that Mark was still here somewhere. Poor darling. He was going to lose his fiancée and his father on the same night. And she'd done them both in. Some mother she'd turned out to be.

She came face to face with David, standing in the hallway. "What's going on, Michelle?".

"Get Mark, please," said Karen, raggedly. "Joe's had a heart attack. He wasn't breathing when we left the hotel."

"Damn! What else can happen tonight?" David softly swore, heading back across the floor.

Mark stood beside Jenny's table, buttoning his shirt sleeve, transfusion complete. Jenny was coming around and the bleeding had been stopped. The doctor was pleased. Things seemed to be under control in this room, even though they were preparing to do a D & C, to make sure that the miscarriage was complete. David motioned Mark outside.

"I hate to give you another piece of bad news," David said to Mark. "Your mother just brought your dad in. She thinks he's had a heart attack. They're in the room across the hall."

"Oh, no!"

Mark sprinted into the room. David could hear Michelle talking to the doctors when Mark opened the door.

David turned back to Jenny's room to meet the two operating room orderlies wheeling Jenny's table out. Dr. Sorenis looked at David, saying, "We're taking her to surgery now, if you'd like to follow us."

David nodded and fell into step behind the procession. Suzanne roused from her stupor and hurriedly joined him. "What's happened? Why are they taking her to surgery?"

"They're going to make sure the miscarriage is complete," said David curtly, "and that all the bleeding is stopped. You should be pleased. She's lost this baby."

"Oh." Suzanne walked silently along with David to the surgery waiting room. She was relieved. She really didn't want Jenny to be married to Mark. If she wasn't carrying his child, Suzanne might be able to talk some sense into her after she got better.

And as for David, their mutual indiscretions seemed to balance themselves out in her mind. She hadn't told him about Jack and he hadn't told her about Michelle. So they were even. Things would work themselves out.

The problem of Jenny not being his "real" daughter could be dealt with. David cared too much about Jenny to remain angry for long, she reasoned. He would get over it. They wouldn't have to tell Jenny who her real father was. That would just make things awkward, what with Jack being an old family friend, whom Jenny knew well. She sat down in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs and started to leaf through a magazine.

"I think you ought to know," said David, toward Suzanne's general direction, "In case you didn't notice, that last ambulance was Michelle, bringing Mark's father in. He's had a heart attack. And he's not doing well."

Her head lifted sharply at David's last comment. She hadn't been paying any attention to what had been happening in the emergency ward hallway. People had been coming and going all night.

"That's too bad," she said very properly, returning her gaze to the magazine. This news didn't suit her at all. If Mark lost his father, Jenny would be right there to comfort him as soon as she could.

"I do hope he makes it," she said quietly, but sincerely. She didn't want Jenny to feel any more drawn to Mark than she already did. They obviously couldn't be married right away. Once he left for training, things would be different. They had not been in the waiting room long when an obviously shaken Mark appeared in the doorway.

"My father's gone." His voice was flat, detached. "They couldn't save him. There wasn't anything they could do for him. I'm going to take my mother back to the hotel. Once I'm sure she's all right, I'll be back."

Mark looked at David as he spoke, ignoring Suzanne all together. Mark had decided to dismiss Suzanne's earlier outburst. He wanted to hear more from David, more about why he and Jenny could now get married — why Jenny wasn't David's daughter.

David said, "I'm terribly sorry about your father, Mark. Tell your mother that if there's anything we can do to help, please let us. You're going to be a big part of Jenny's life. I want to help you all I can."

"Thank you, sir. Mom will appreciate that. I know I do. Please explain to Jenny why I'm not here, if she wakes up before I get back."

David nodded saying, "I'll explain, if she rouses. You might try to get a little sleep. She probably won't be conscious before tomorrow morning."

"No. I'll take mom, then come back. I want to be here when she wakes up," said Mark firmly.

"Whatever you want, Mark. I'll be here the whole time. She won't wake up alone."

"Thank you, sir," said Mark. The word "father" wasn't in Mark's vocabulary, as far as David was concerned. His father had just died and his mother was obviously heart-broken. She needed his attention and he needed to be with her. Mark turned and left the waiting room.

Suzanne pressed her lips together tightly, not offering even one word of sympathy. David glanced down, shook his head and turned away. Poor Michelle.

The minutes ticked by in half-time. The clock seemed to mock them every time they looked up.

"What do you suppose is taking so long?" asked Suzanne, thoroughly weary of the whole process.

"I don't know," answered David, concern showing in his voice.

At that moment, Dr. Sorenis appeared in the doorway. He smiled as he walked in. "Well this part went fine. The D & C is complete and all the bleeding is stopped. I am sorry about the baby, but she should be able to have more children, once she recovers from the rest of her injuries."

"Well," said Suzanne curtly, "they really didn't need a baby right now, anyway."

David gave her an icy look. "What about the rest of her condition? What about the brain swelling?"

"We don't know yet," said Dr. Sorenis. "We kept her head swathed in ice packs for this whole procedure, to help keep the swelling down. Now that the operation is over, as soon as we can clear the anesthetic from her system, we'll start her on another set of drugs to minimize the swelling. She's not out of the woods by any means."

"Will she regain consciousness tonight?" asked David.

"I doubt it. She's wasn't really conscious before the operation, although her vital signs had improved considerably. Did her fiancé leave?"

Dr. Sorenis' concern registered in his voice. His patient had responded very positively to the fiancé's presence. He wanted to give her every chance for a good recovery.

"Unfortunately he had to leave. That last ambulance was his mother, bringing his father back into the hospital," said David, to bring the doctor up to date. "He had a heart attack when they got back to the hotel. Evidently Jenny's accident was the last straw for his own health."

"Good heavens, what a night for you folks," commented Dr. Sorenis.

"It's been very bad," agreed David. "Mark just came back in to say his father had passed away downstairs. They weren't able to save him. He's taking his mother back to their hotel. They had flown in for Mark's graduation. He'll be back as soon as he has her settled in for the night."

"My, that is a sad turn of events," said Dr. Sorenis, trying to smooth the situation. "Is the young man all right? He's had a double trauma."

"He wasn't showing any emotion at all when he was here," said David. "Still in shock, I would guess."

"Well, you may want to pay attention to him," said Dr. Sorenis. "In the meantime, if the two of you would like to wait in the intensive care waiting room, she'll be up in about an hour."

"Intensive care?" Suzanne's voice raised in question. "I thought you said she came through this just fine."

"I did," said Dr. Sorenis. "However, with all the other things wrong, and the possible brain swelling, I want her monitored every minute for a while. ICU is the place to do that."

"Well if she won't be awake tonight, and we can only see her 5 minutes out of every hour, I think we should go home and get some rest, David," said Suzanne. She was aware of ICU rules on visitors, and it was nearly midnight. She was tired. The evening had been exhausting.

David looked at her wonderingly. She sounded as though Jenny had just skinned a knee. He realized for the first time how truly self-centered Suzanne was. She was behaving as though the scene between them had never happened. She'd find out soon enough things were going to be different.

"I'm not going home until Mark gets back." he said clearly. "But you're right. Why don't you take a cab and go on home." He looked at his watch. "The cabs are still operating. That way I'll have a car and I can come home whenever I'm able. You can drive your car back whenever you choose to in the morning."

Suzanne arched an eyebrow at David's suggestion. She could have predicted his reaction–overprotective at all times. He wasn't going to accomplish anything sitting here. Always thinking of Jenny before he thought of her. He didn't care about her health at all. Jenny was in excellent professional hands.

"I think that's an excellent idea, David," she said, for Dr. Sorenis' benefit. "That way I can rest and be with her tomorrow, while you get some rest."

Sorenis stared at the couple. Usually the mothers stayed and the fathers went home in situations like this. This woman didn't seem to be concerned about her daughter at all. He shook his head and waited.

David nodded absently. Suzanne headed to the nurses station to call a taxi. David walked past her, heading toward ICU with Dr. Sorenis. Jenny would be up from recovery soon. He wanted to be there in case she did wake up and started asking for someone. Suzanne went downstairs to wait for the taxi she had called. In no time, it was at the door. They didn't get many calls this time of night.

******

Back in her living room, Suzanne paced the floor. It was just like David to not come home with her. He was just trying to make her look like an uncaring mother. Jenny was in perfectly capable medical hands. He certainly couldn't do any more for her. He should be more concerned with Suzanne's welfare. She had deliberately put the ugly scene between them out of her mind. David would come to his senses once Jenny was better. He would get over the revelation about Jack. Surely there were others in his past she didn't know about. They were adults after all. He enjoyed his military position far too much to risk his next promotion by separating from her at this late date. Their carefully ordered life was as convenient for him as it was for her.

Her pace slowed, she began to think. There was someone who would be considerate of her feelings–some one who would understand her point of view, she knew. She needn't spend this night alone, in this big empty house, if David insisted on staying at the hospital. Glancing at her watch, she reached for the phone and dialed a familiar number. She was pleased to hear the click when the receiver on the other end lifted.

"Jack? Oh Jack, darling I'm so glad you're there," she said breathlessly into the receiver. "The most terrible thing has happened. No, no, I'm fine. It's Jenny. She got hit by a car. She's in the hospital in intensive care. No, I'm calling from home. The doctor sent me home to get some rest, so David and I can trade off being with her. I'm supposed to be resting, but I'm so keyed up and worried, I just can't. I'm just beside myself. I don't know what to do. I'm just pacing the floor."

Suzanne listened intently, then smiled a self-satisfied smile, "Oh Jack, would you? That would be wonderful. I'd love your company for just a little while. I think it would calm me down ever so much."

She hung up the phone carefully and headed upstairs to change into something more suitable. Jack would waste no time in getting here. David could stay at the hospital all night. She would go back in the morning, to be the dutiful mother he expected her to be. She needed someone to pay attention to her health for a little while first.

******

Jack, indeed, wasted no time. He knew Suzanne. She was a very complex woman. He enjoyed taking his pleasure with her occasionally. She was easy to look at and she was safely married. She could make no demands on him. And she didn't want to rock the boat she and David had been floating in all this time. He didn't really understand why they stayed together, but he figured it was none of his business. He really didn't care.

He'd had a twinge or two about sneaking around behind David's back, since they had been friends for a very long time, but David seemed oblivious to everything but work. Their mutual expertise in computers, as well as planes, had kept them located at the same bases for many years. Jack's work at Peterson, here in the Springs, had kept him in the same town, for the last few years. Besides, he wasn't the only one who had shared Suzanne's charms. David had been gone a lot. When Suzanne opened the door, he let out a slow whistle, "You look wonderful, my dear. Especially for someone who's spent the evening in the hospital emergency room. How do you do it?"

Suzanne rolled her shoulders, swinging around to show off her beautifully embroidered jade kimono, enjoying the verbal petting. She smiled at him, not answering his question, saying instead, "Thank you ever so much for coming. I needed some company tonight. I just can't bear to think of my poor little Jenny lying up there. They won't even let me stay with her. They only let you in once every hour and then only for five minutes."

Suzanne raised a delicate hand to her forehead as if to ward off the pictures brought to mind by her words.

"Well, come on," he said, slipping a very familiar arm around her waist. "Let me help. You must be exhausted. Let's see if we can't take your mind off your troubles for a little while. How is Jenny?"

They walked down the hall toward the back of the house. "The doctor says she's going to be fine – some broken bones and a bump on the head. She's in ICU as a precaution, that's all. But you know me. I worry so."

Jack nodded, running a caressing hand gently down her spine. "She's in good hands. Don't you worry any more."

Once in the family room, he slipped in behind the bar. She sat down in the middle of the long, velvet-covered couch. He mixed her favorite highball. He'd had lots of practice with this ritual between them. He handed her the drink saying, "Here, drink this. It will calm you nerves."

He understood Suzanne's nerves well. She needed a drink to allow herself to "loosen up." That way she never completely remembered what had happened the night before. He'd never seen her drink more than one or two. But as far as she was concerned, that was enough to wipe out all memories of anything she didn't care to remember. He was content to play this little game. It made things very easy.

"Oh, thank you," she said, taking the glass and drinking about half of it with one long drink.

O-o-oh, she is uptight, He watched her down the drink, then handed her a second.

"Here, drink this one a little slower. Let me help you relax." He didn't want her to get too relaxed from the alcohol. He sat down beside her, turning her away from him, starting to massage the muscles of her neck and shoulders. They were taut, like cords along her shoulders.

"Oh, that feels so good," she said, rolling her shoulders again under his touch.

"I hope so. You need to relax if you're going to go back in the morning. You certainly can't sleep all tied up like this."

"I knew you'd understand," sighed Suzanne, beginning to feel the soothing effects of the alcohol. Jack was so attentive. He understood her much better than David ever had. It was just too bad he hadn't been the marrying kind.

Jack continued to massage her neck and shoulders slowly, gradually going deeper down her back and gently over her shoulders and around her throat. He ran his fingers up the back of her neck, lacing them in her blond hair, rubbing those tight neck tendons until her head rolled in his hands. She sighed again deeply, letting him manipulate her head and neck, feeling the tension go out of all the tight muscles.

He knew better than to rush her. With Suzanne, timing was everything. The alcohol was having its effect. He could feel the tension leaving her shoulders and back. She had relaxed so that she was leaning back against him. His massaging was loosening the wrap of her kimono. The top of her bare shoulder was now peeking up at him. It became obvious to him that the kimono was all she had on.

"Put your feet up," he instructed quietly. "Stretch out a little more. You're still keyed up."

"You're right," she said swinging her feet up onto the long couch, exposing most of her long, shapely legs. "That is more comfortable," she said, leaning back further onto his chest, pressing her shoulder against him.

He ran his hand lightly along it, nudging the robe down as he moved, following it with a line of kisses. "Poor shoulder...poor arms...all tied in knots. Let me work them out for you."

"Mmmm, yes, " she whispered. He slid his hand over her shoulder and down into the opening of her kimono. He pressed tightly against her, caressing her breast within its jade cocoon.

He caressed it until her soft, pliable nipple became stiff and upright between his fingers. She was moving with him. He sensed she was willing for him to go further. He moved his hand to around her waist, again entering that jade cocoon to caress all its treasures, as she stretched out in front of him. His other hand caressed her ear and throat and he nibbled that now relaxed tendon along the top of her shoulder.

She shivered when he ran his caressing fingers between her still taut thighs, under the silky coat, yet not moving to stop him. "I think you need some real rest," he said smoothly into her ear, nibbling it gently. "Why don't you let me tuck you in?"

"I'd like that," she said, coyly, "I think that drink went straight to my head. I'm going to need my rest for tomorrow."

"Of course."

They stood up together. He stayed pressed against her, with his arm around her, while they climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. His own need was becoming more insistent. She gave no indication at all, yet he knew she could feel him, hard against her.

"I think this room will be more comfortable tonight," he said, opening the door to the guest room, the Victorian room, with the great old four-poster bed.

"You're right again," she said, pulling her lip down in a tiny pout. "I knew you'd take good care of me. Nobody else seems to care about me".

"Let me put you to bed, I always take good care of you," he said huskily, forcing himself to go slow, to match her tempo and mood. His need was by now too strong to risk having her change her mind at this point. Her moods could be mercurial. He was glad it was David who was married to her.

"Yes," she said slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck, lazily whispering, "you do."

She leaned into him, pressing hard against the fullness she felt against her thigh. She smiled a wicked smile, feeling Jack's whole body stiffen at her motion.

He returned the embrace, wrapping his arms and hands low around her hips, pulling her tight against him, feeling his pulse pounding between them. He encompassed her lips with his, forcing his tongue deep within her mouth.

An animal-like purr came from deep within her throat as she savored the throbbing sensations he was creating. He scooped her up quickly and lay her down in the middle of the big old bed.

"Mmmmm, that's nice," she murmured. Her golden hair spread out like a fan on the pillow. She lay there looking up at him expectantly, through her own misty haze, her jade kimono falling open around her, completely exposing beautiful long legs opened invitingly and creamy breasts, now full with unspoken desire.

He stood there, towering over her like an ancient Greek god. His blond hair was even curlier than hers, just like Jenny's, and he was taller than Suzanne. The years had been kind to him. He was still lean and tan. The curls had not even begun to gray. He prided himself on his physique and good looks. Women enjoyed looking at him and he returned the compliment. His dark brown eyes glinted as he surveyed Suzanne, smiling up at him from where she waited. She still could stir his blood. He smiled back. This is a wonderful set up.

His clothes slipped off quickly. He smiled again as he stretched out beside her, reaching to undo the silken cord still holding the kimono together. Suzanne closed her eyes. The bow gave way to Jack's tug. Soft, meaningless sounds escaped her throat. His hand ran gently down between her breasts, exploring the tautness of her abdomen, pushing away the jade cocoon, fingers finally lacing themselves in the nest of wet, golden curls below.

This was going to be a good night, Jack could tell.

******

David looked up, startled to see Mark walk into the ICU waiting room. "Why didn't you get some sleep? It's three o'clock in the morning," he said, as Mark sat down beside him.

"I did," said Mark. "I got mom to go to bed, then I curled up for a while on the couch in her suite. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. I had to know how Jenny is. What's going on?"

"She's doing as well as can be expected according to the charge nurse. She hasn't regained consciousness. They don't expect her to until tomorrow–I mean this afternoon. That concussion is still worrying them."

Mark listened to David's recitation carefully. "Do they think she's going to be all right?"

"They don't really know, Mark," David said reluctantly. "The doctor's not willing to say any more until she wakes up. She does seem to be responding, rather than slipping into a coma, though. Dr. Sorenis sees that as positive."

"Thank God for that," said Mark, gratefully.

"You're absolutely right," agreed David. "How was your mother? Did she go to sleep?"

"Finally," said Mark. "She just lay and cried for a while. She blames herself for Dad's death. I don't think I talked her out of that, even though the emergency room doctor told her probably Dad's smoking and weight, with the altitude, just did him in. The doctor said he'd probably had a heart problem for some time."

"What about you, Mark?" asked David. "You don't sound like this has really sunk in with you at all."

"Probably not," said Mark. "I'm trying not to think about it. I'm concentrating on Jenny — I'm not letting anything else in my mind. It will hit me later, after everything's over, I guess. I've got to stay focused, for both of them, don't you think, sir?" Mark looked at David.

"You're right, of course," said David. "Your mother will need your strength in the next few days, very much. Just remember, if you need someone, I'll be here for you too, if you'll let me."

Mark nodded, saying, "Thank you. I'll remember. But what about Jenny? She hasn't roused at all yet?"

"No, not at all. I've been in a couple of times–patted her hand and talked to her, but I've gotten no response."

Mark couldn't stand it any longer. "What are you going to tell her, when she wakes up? What's with the blood tests? Why can we get married now, when we couldn't 6 or 7 hours ago?"

"Well," said David, slowly, "it seems that your mother wasn't the only one who was pregnant when she got married. I confronted Suzanne about the blood tests they did here. Jenny's blood should have matched either hers or mine. When it didn't, Suzanne admitted that she was also carrying another man's child when we got married. The only difference was Suzanne knew she was carrying the child. And she made sure I didn't know it wasn't mine. If they hadn't needed blood for Jenny, we'd have never known."

"Oh, wow," said Mark, letting out a low whistle. "But I can't say that I'm sorry. If it lets Jenny and I get married, I can't be anything but pleased, given my 'new' relationship to you."

David smiled. Jenny and Mark were going to make a fine couple, but this was going to be complicated.

"I know, this is going to be a little confusing for a while. But— your mother, Mark. Was she really surprised by this heart attack?" David asked, genuine concern showing in his voice.

"Well, yes and no. She's been worried about dad's health for quite a while. He was a real chain smoker and loved to eat all the things they tell you not to. She told me this mor — no, yesterday morning, to take better care of him, that he wasn't feeling well. But neither of us understood how bad he really was. He'd been chewing stuff for heartburn for the last two days. I don't think it was heartburn at all. He was probably having problems from the minute he got here. We just didn't know it."

"That's too bad." David nodded. "Once the day gets going a little more, I'll help you make arrangements to move your father back to Anaheim. We don't need to burden your mother with the details."

"Thank you. I don't know the first thing about stuff like that," said Mark. He did like Jenny's dad. He could see why his mother might have liked him as well. He shook away that thought, then continued, "Why don't you go home for a little while and get some sleep? You could get at least a couple of hours sleep in a bed, instead of this awful chair. You said yourself, they don't expect Jenny to wake up before afternoon. I'll be here, in case she does. I won't leave until you come back."

David started to say no, then reconsidered. Mark was going to be Jenny's husband. Jenny would probably rather see Mark than him anyway, if she woke up, since they were only letting one person at a time into the ICU unit. "If you're sure you don't want me here...?"

"Go home," said Mark. "Jenny's mom may need you there."

David nodded, not answering the comment about Suzanne. Mark didn't need to hear any more problems. "I think I will," he said, standing up. "I'll set the alarm and be back about six-thirty. We'll take turns and get arrangements made for the trip back to Anaheim at the same time."

Mark nodded. "Good night, sir." He said, standing up to shake hands. "Thank you for everything."

David returned the handshake. "Good night yourself, Mark. And in view of everything that's happened, you might think about calling me David. "Sir" seems to be a bit too formal at this point. I'm not in uniform and neither are you. I'm sure "dad" is out of the question, but I think first names might be more appropriate, don't you?"

Mark gulped and said, "Why, yes, sir, I mean...David. I'll try. Good bye...David." Mark added the name with an obvious effort.

David laughed. "That's better, keep practicing. It will grow on you." He swung around and headed out of the hospital. A couple of hours sleep sounded like a good idea. Suzanne would be sound asleep. He'd just slip into the guest room and take a quick nap.

******

David slowed as he drove the last block to his house. What the hell? There was a strange, but familiar, car in their driveway, at three-thirty in the morning.

"Damn," he said aloud between clenched teeth as he pulled into the driveway. She didn't even have the decency to spend this night alone. Figured I'd stay all night at the hospital. Damn her, and damn him! "Some friend!" he muttered angrily.

He slammed the car door and sprinted to the house. This was as good a time as any to confront the two of them. The night had been full of surprises. He'd give them one more.

Jack's timing had been off. He usually never stayed with Suzanne. She preferred to awaken alone, and that suited him just fine. He had fallen asleep himself and had awakened just a few minutes before. He had dressed quietly and was headed down the stairs when the door crashed open. David stalked in. David stared at him, seething inside, fists clenched at the sight of Jack, descending the staircase.

"Dave, I'm glad you're home," said Jack quickly, continuing down the stairs, nervously straightening his shirt collar. "I'm so sorry to hear about Jenny. Suzanne called, nearly hysterical. She said you had to stay at the hospital, so I came over to see if I could help. I just checked on her, again. She's finally sleepi..."

A crashing right cross ended Jack's excellent lie.

"Our daughter is doing as well as can be expected, thank you. Excuse me, I should say your daughter."

David took great pleasure in seeing a flush rise in Jack's face, while he rubbed his rapidly swelling jaw.

"Wha...what are you talking about?" asked Jack, trying to recover, but putting up no defense. He knew better than to antagonize David. David had always been the better boxer of the two.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. This evening, I discovered that Jenny's not my biological daughter. She needed a blood transfusion. Seems she doesn't match either me or Suzanne. According to Suzanne, that shouldn't surprise you. According to my wife – you're my daughter's real father. She matches your A positive blood perfectly, I imagine."

"Look Dave I...uh...don't know..." began Jack, but David cut him off.

"Don't. Don't say anything. There's nothing you can say at this point. Just get the hell out of my house. Suzanne can invite you back as soon as I leave—which won't take too long. She's going to be all yours very shortly. I don't want to be around her, after tonight, and she obviously doesn't want me, either."

"But look, David..." Jack tried again, not knowing what he was going to say. He hated to lose a friend over a woman.

"I said get out! Before I take another swing at you!"

Jack turned and headed toward the door. He needed to get out of David's way. Suzanne would have to deal with him herself.

David turned to find Suzanne standing at the head of the stairs, both hands covering her mouth in horror. She had not intended that David find them together. This was going to be very difficult.

"Oh, David..." she began.

"Shut up, Suzanne, just shut up. There's nothing you can say to me that I want to hear."

He stomped up the stairs and brushed past her as though she didn't exist. He noted the open guest room door and the very rumpled bed. His anger boiled deep within him, but the blow landing on Jack's jaw had diffused the worst of it. He was back in control.

"I suggest you just finish the night in your 'love bed,'" he said coldly. "Perhaps Jack will join you there tomorrow. The house will be all yours by then. I'll find other accommodations. There's no need to continue this charade any longer, Suzanne."

"Oh David, don't be silly," she said nervously. She didn't want to be a divorcee. Divorced women held no social position in her circle of friends. That would be so inconvenient. "We can work something out."

"Work something out? You're amazing, Suzanne. I don't believe you. No, we can't work something out. There's nothing to work out. You've made your choice. You made it years ago. I just finally got smart enough to understand it. Like I said. I'll be out of here tomorrow. I'm going back to the hospital at six-thirty. If you can tear yourself away, you might want to come to see her in the afternoon. That's when they expect her to wake up."

David stepped into their bedroom, shoving the door shut in Suzanne's face. She heard the lock turn on the inside. She turned and walked back into the guest room, stunned by what had just happened. This unfortunate turn of events was going to disrupt her perfectly ordered life considerably.

Once in the room, David pulled his large duffel bag from the closet. He stuffed it full of clothes, things he'd need for the next few days. Tomorrow he would check into temporary housing at the Academy and at Peterson Air Base. He knew he could get a room in TOQ somewhere. Tonight would be his last night here. He wouldn't spend another night in this house of betrayal if he could help it.

Setting his alarm, he dropped, exhausted onto the bed. He badly needed a few hours sleep.

******

"Mr. Stevens? Mark?"

Mark bolted upright in the lounge chair, trying to focus on the image in white above him. "Yes, that's me, what's wrong?"

The panic edged into his voice as he came fully awake, recognizing the ICU charge nurse. She smiled, saying, "Nothing's wrong. Jenny's asking for you. She's awake enough to talk to you. Doctor left orders for you to come in anytime she woke, if she was conscious enough to ask for you."

"Oh, thanks," he said following the nurse into ICU. The rooms circled the nurses' station so that the nurse could watch all of them, just by turning in a circle behind her desk. He winced, catching sight of Jenny through the window, bandages and tubing everywhere, with monitoring wires strung like Christmas tree lights all over. The nurse nodded and he stepped into her windowed room, as close as he could get to the head of her bed.

"Jenny? Jen-Jen? Can you hear me, darling?" Mark whispered loudly, not wanting to startle her but desperately needing to hear her voice.

"Mark? Oh, Mark," she moaned as she started to move to greet him, but met the pain of all her injuries instead. Her frightened green eyes searched frantically for him, lighting up when they finally focused on his face. "I'm so glad you're here," she rasped, now aware of the soreness in her throat from the operation's tubing.

"You don't have to talk, Jen-Jen, just concentrate on getting well. Thank God, you're awake."

"What happened?" she asked.

"You ran in front of a car, when you dashed out of the house. Don't you remember any of it?" he asked, anxious to know what she remembered.

"Why would I... oh Mark, no," she cried as the memories of the scene just before the accident flooded back into her mind. "They said we couldn't be married." She started to cough, trying to talk, tears flooding her eyes...

"Shush, Jen-Jen, that's all changed. It's been a wild night."

"Why? What's going on?" She asked, more alert now, trying to concentrate through her pain.

"You needed a blood transfusion. The doctor found out that neither of your parents match your blood type. I just happen to match you. Evidently, your mother admitted to your father that he wasn't really your father—that she was pregnant with you when they got married. So we really aren't related at all."

"Oh, I don't understand—" Jenny moaned as she moved her head on her pillow. It was all too much for her to take in. "But we can be married? You're sure?"

Her voice pleaded with him to reassure her. She tried to reach out for him through all the tubes and wires.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said catching her hand and gently raising it to his lips, kissing it lightly. He couldn't get through the tubes and wires to her face. "Just as soon as you're out of here. Don't worry about anything. Now try to get some sleep. The nurse is coming to run me out."

"Don't go far," she murmured. He kissed her hand again. Her eyes were already closing in healing sleep.

"I'll be right outside. I'll come in as often as they'll let me," he said quietly. He would tell her later about the baby and about his father. One thing at a time. She had a long way to go. The charge nurse walked with him back to the waiting room. He settled down into the lounge chair for a few more snippets of sleep. Morning would be here very quickly.

******

The next two days flew by as Jenny progressed. David and Mark made all the necessary arrangements to move Joe's body back to Anaheim. David had insisted on driving them into Denver, so that the body could be shipped directly from Denver to Anaheim.

Karen watched out of one of the airport windows while attendants loaded the casket onto the big plane. She unconsciously twisted a skirt fold of her black knit dress. She had worn it for parties, book signings and interviews. This was the first time she'd worn it for a funeral procession. They were taking Joe home, for the last time. She was dry-eyed now. She had cried 'til she was out of tears, letting Mark and David handle all the arrangements.

Since Mark had finished all his exams, he had received permission to accompany her back to Anaheim for the funeral. He would graduate, even though he would miss the ceremony. His departure date had been delayed due to family emergency. David had helped see to that.

Her world had collapsed. She could not even be cheered by the amazing turn of events–the fact that Jenny was not David's daughter. Deep in her consciousness she understood that Mark and Jenny could be married now, but nothing really mattered to her. Joe had been her rock, her touchstone of solidarity. She felt lost without him. Knowing that Mark could be happy didn't help, at least not right now.

She had given no thought at all to what all this might do to David's marriage. It was as though David and Suzanne did not exist in her world. Their problems were their own. She didn't even want to know about them. She didn't really care. The big cargo doors closed behind the casket and the loudspeaker boomed in the terminal.

"Mom, they're calling us," said Mark gently, taking her elbow. She nodded, following Mark's direction.

"Take good care of her, Mark," said David urgently.

"I will, sir...uh, David," said Mark. "And you take care of Jenny. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"She'll be waiting, you know that. She's got a long road to recovery, even though she's conscious now. She's going to need your support," said David to ease Mark's mind. He had no doubt that Mark and Jenny would be married as soon as Jenny's condition permitted it.

"She'll have it, and all my love. You know that," said Mark adamantly, as they walked toward the jetway. David nodded.

"Thank you for all your help, David," said Karen, reacting to his presence for the first time. Her eyes looked dull and lifeless. His heart ached, realizing there was nothing more he could do to ease her pain. She had to deal with it herself.

"I'll do anything I can to help you, Michelle, remember that," David said quietly. He wanted her to know he was there.

She nodded numbly, turned and walked down the jetway, holding Mark's arm lightly. David shook his head, watching her walk away from him a second time. He hated to see her go, even though at this point, she would probably never want to see him again. He had to get his own life in order. There were many changes necessary.

Chapter 9

"Dad, I really don't need this wheelchair." Jenny squirmed in the uncomfortable seat, scrunching her long legs to fit the foot pedals.

"Hospital rules, Miss Carlson." The nurse's voice was as starchy as her uniform. She was definitely from the old school.

David laughed. "Just 'til we get to the car, hon – they don't want you to break a leg on the way out."

The nurse's scowl chilled the room. "We're very concerned with patient safety, Mr. Carlson. Your daughter was very badly hurt. We just want to make sure she goes home without any further mishaps."

David nodded. "Yes, she was bad. And you've done a wonderful job here. We really appreciate it." He smiled down at Jenny. The recuperative powers of the young were amazing. The shoulder cast was the only remaining sign of the accident that almost took her from them. He gave the chair a shove. The walk down gleaming halls to the car, took only minutes.

Jenny looked up at the nurse. "Could I at least get in the car myself?"

"Yes, I think you can manage that."

Jenny stood slowly, taking her father's hand, slipping carefully into the waiting car seat. She settled herself gently, leaning back against the cast. A big sigh escaped her lips. "All set, dad. Let's go."

"Sure thing, hon." He turned to the nurse. "Thank you, again for everything. I'm sure you all saved her life."

The merest smile sneaked across the nurse's face. "You're welcome. We try our best, with all our patients. Oh, Mr. Carlson – here are her home instructions. We covered them earlier."

David took the sheaf of papers. "Oh, yes. Thank you. We'll make sure she's back for therapy on that arm."

The nurse nodded and pulled the wheelchair away from the car. David shut the door and hurried around to the driver's side. Starting the car, he looked over at his daughter, still very pale and drawn.

"Hang on, hon. We'll have you home in no time. "

Jenny turned to face him. "Could we go for just a little ride first, Dad? I've been shut up for weeks. I'd like to at least smell the fresh air and see the grass, before we go home."

"Of course – anything you want – if you think you're up to it."

Jenny nodded and David headed the car out of the parking lot, toward the beautiful city park. They drove slowly along the wooded drive, 'til David pulled into one of the parking spaces, under a big shady tree. Jenny rolled down the window and took a deep breath. "It's so good to be out of that hospital."

"I'm sure it is, hon. And I'm really glad you're ready to be out."

Jenny sat staring out the window, watching the birds flitting in the trees. She heaved another big sigh and turned to face her father.

"Dad, will you tell me what really happened between you and Mom? I know you've moved out, but she absolutely refuses to discuss it. Says you're just having a little tiff that will blow over. What's going on?"

David leaned back in the seat, bounced his fist against the steering wheel and finally faced his daughter. "It's not a pretty story, Jenny. You may be sorry to hear it."

"Well, it evidently revolves around me, doesn't it? If Mark and I really can be married, it's pretty serious. I think I have a right to know the truth."

David couldn't avoid those big green eyes. "Yes, baby," he said softly, "we all should have told the truth, a long time ago. We wouldn't have this mess now, if we had."

Jenny pressed the point. "So, what about you and Mark's mom? Why didn't you marry her in the first place?"

"I wanted to, hon, Lord I wanted to. But I also wanted to be a pilot – and I shared that dream with her – evidently way too much. We did live next door – like she said – and she knew what I wanted to do with my life. I was crazy about her then, even though she was married. She and her husband Eric were part of the college scene at the time, which was distinctly anti-war folk." David leaned against his hand, memories flooding his mind.

"So?"

He looked up to see her waiting. "So, I met her again in Colorado Springs, after her husband was killed, the year I graduated from the Academy. I knew that I might never see her again, so I persuaded her to go out with me, to tell me about Eric's death. She was still recovering from his death and I was pushing, trying to get her to pay attention to me." He saw Jenny's skeptical look.

"I know it sounds bad now, hon, but at the time I couldn't think of anything else. I convinced her to spend a weekend with me at your grandparent's cabin, up on the Peak."

"Here?" Jenny stared up at the mountain.

"Yep, right here. In fact," David looked around, "we may have stopped in this very spot at one time."

"Geez, Dad." Jenny shook her head.

"Sorry, hon, but you wanted the truth. I'm trying to give it to you."

"Well, I guess I don't need all the details." Jenny squirmed, uncomfortable with her father's revelations, yet wanting him to continue.

"Okay. Anyway, at the end of the weekend, she left, convinced that we didn't have a life together. She knew she wouldn't fit into the career and life I'd always said I wanted. She figured her being my wife would destroy my career. Only she didn't give me any choice in the matter. She didn't tell me what she was thinking. She just told me that the weekend had been wonderful, but that she was going back to Anaheim to marry her agent – which she did. But Mark was conceived during that weekend."

"Good heavens." Jenny shook her head.

"They were already married when she found out she was pregnant and that was that. She never told Joe anything about us, until you two got together. We had to find out if Mark belonged to her and I, instead of her and Joe."

"What a mess."

"Yes, hon. It turned out to be. Much more than anyone ever intended. And a mess you paid the price for, I'm sorry to say."

He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. She looked away nodding, eyes misting over at the comment. Finally she turned back to him. "And what about mother and me? Sounds like there was a pregnancy epidemic that year."

David chuckled in spite of himself. "I guess it does seem that way. You have to remember, hon, the early seventies were the times of the sexual revolution. Free love was on every corner, and sex before marriage was not a big deal. In fact, getting married without knowing what you were getting was considered foolish."

"Before AIDS, obviously," said Jenny.

"That's right. Before any of that. But you and Mark evidently weren't particularly careful, either."

"Touché! Jenny's faced reddened at the comment. "Point taken, Dad. But, go on. How did you get hooked up with Mom?"

"I'm afraid this isn't going to sound any better than the last story, hon." David wiped his brow. Telling Jenny about the past seemed to be more of a confession than a story.

"Well, I met your mother in Lubbock, when I was in pilot training. She was dating Jack Morrick at the time."

"You mean Uncle Jack?" Jenny's jaw dropped at the mention of her favorite "almost" uncle. "Daddy, he's been in my life all my life."

"That's right, sweetheart. I didn't realize how much he was in our lives. I guess I should have." David stared straight ahead. He couldn't face Jenny's stunned expression.

"I found your mother crying one night after an argument with him. It's my guess she'd just told him about you. Jack was never 'the marrying kind' and they'd evidently had words. I took her home and that's all it took. She and I started dating. She seemed to want me and I was trying to put Michelle out of my mind. When your momma said she wanted to get married before I left Lubbock, I said, 'why not?' I was on my way to Vietnam. I never expected to come back." He looked over at Jenny's stricken face.

"I'm sorry, hon, but you asked for the truth. I'm trying my best to sort it out, right now, for you and for me."

Jenny took a couple of deep breaths. She was certainly getting what she'd asked for from her father. More than she ever wanted to know. She stole a glance in his direction. He looked thoroughly miserable. But she had to know. "Well, okay. So you got married for the wrong reasons. That happens. But you've been married a long time. Why separate now? Why can't you patch things up?"

David took a deep breath and rubbed his hand across his chin. "I walked in on Jack and your mother, when you were in intensive care, Jenny – when I went home."

"Oh!" Jenny's hands flew to her mouth.

"Do I need to be more specific?"

Jenny violently shook her head "no."

"Okay, then. Your mother loves Jack and always has. And I suppose I've always loved Michelle. Our marriage has never had a chance, from the very beginning. I just think it's time to stop living a lie and give us both a chance to find some happiness in the rest of our lives."

"Oh, Dad, how awful." Jenny reached for his hand. David took hers and gave it a squeeze.

"I'll get over it, as long as you're all right. You're the one who's really been hurt by all this. You're the only thing good that came out of our marriage, even if I'm not your biological father."

Jenny squeezed his hand hard. "You're my dad, and you always will be. No matter what. And I don't know what I'm going to say to Uncle Jack."

"Don't worry about it, baby. You may not have to say anything. If I know him as well as I think I do, he'll make himself scarce. You don't ever have to let him know I've told you unless you want to. I've cooled off, in case I see him. It's going to be awkward for a while. I did punch him in the jaw at the house."

"Really?"

"Yep. I was frustrated and angry at your mother and him and worried sick about you. Got the best of me."

"I guess." In all her life, Jenny had never seen her father moved to physical violence. "So that's why Mark and I can be married. We really aren't related. We both have different parents than we thought, but we don't share a parent."

"That's right. We've played musical parents with you kids. And unfortunately, Mark lost the father he always knew, the same night you got hurt."

"He hasn't said much about that, Dad. I'm worried about him."

"Well, you need to talk to him now. He may have been waiting until you were well, 'til you heard our story from us. You two really need to talk this whole thing out."

She nodded. "I will. And Dad..."she hesitated.

"Yes?"

"What about you? What about Mark's mom? You loved her once. Do you still?"

David stared out the window for a long time. "Yes, Jenny. I do still love her. But it may not ever come to anything. She had made a good, happy life with Joe and she's lost him. She blames her herself and us for that. She also blames herself for your losing the baby. She may not ever want to see me again."

"You can't leave it that way, Dad. You have a right to be happy, too."

"Maybe, hon. But not yet. It's entirely too soon for me to do anything but get my life together. I'd rather be by myself than married to someone who doesn't love me."

He glanced at his daughter's sober expression. He patted her hand. "And now, I'm going to give you one piece of fatherly advice. Don't let anything get in the way of your love. And don't make any decisions alone. Talk things out, truthfully. You've seen what happens when you don't."

"I guess." Jenny looked down at her watch. "We'd better go. Mom will be worried. We should have been home by now."

David cranked the key and the motor growled its way to life. "I'm sure she's waiting. Tell her we've talked. You need to hear her side of the story. I'm sure she sees it very differently than I do."

David pulled the steering wheel around. "Just know sweetheart, that no matter what your mother says or thinks, my life with her is over. I'm not going back."

Jenny nodded slowly. "I can understand how you wouldn't want to. It's just too bad for both of you."

David pulled out into the park traffic. "Oh, and Jenny, if your mother gets too overbearing about Mark, you can come live with me. My apartment has two bedrooms. We'd make out all right."

Jenny smiled. "Thanks, Dad. We'll give this a whirl. She still doesn't want me to marry Mark, does she?"

"No, she really doesn't. I don't know what she might do to try to come between you. She wasn't going to tell you about not being my daughter. That's the main thing I can't forgive her for. She would have separated you and Mark and never told you or me. I didn't realize, until then, how much she really hated our life."

Jenny watched the roadside slip by. "I always liked the traveling we did, Dad. I'll make a good military wife."

"I'm sure you will. But your mom has social aspirations for you. Unless Mark turns out to be a general, she'll never be satisfied." He shook his head. "And his being related to Michelle will eat at her all the time, I'm sure. It's not going to be pleasant, hon. Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Jenny pressed her lips into a small thin line. "It's my life, Dad. Not hers. And I love Mark. I'm going to marry him."

David nodded. "I know you do. Just hold onto that and don't let you mother come between you while you're still home. The sooner you get out of that cast and are free to go with Mark, the better."

David pulled up in front of the house. "Well, here we are. Let's go meet your mother."

Suzanne threw open the front door. "Well, you're finally here. I've been so worried. David, she looks so pale!"

Jenny stood quietly for her mother's kiss on her cheek. "I'm fine, mom. I just need to get some sun."

"Well, come in. We need to get you to bed. I'm sure you're exhausted and need to rest. David, where's her bag?" Suzanne glanced around.

David headed back to the car. "It's right here. You go ahead, I'll bring it up."

******

David smiled down at Jenny, who by this time was carefully stretched out in her very own canopy-covered bed. "Get some rest, hon. I'll call you tomorrow."

"I will, Dad. Take care."

He kissed her cheek, then crossed the room quickly, with Suzanne close behind. David clicked off the light and pulled Jenny's bedroom door shut. He looked at Suzanne. "She'll be asleep in a few minutes, I would guess. It's a real chore to carry that shoulder cast around."

Suzanne frowned. "How much longer does she have to have that big old thing on?"

They walked down the stairs. "A few more weeks according to the doctor. Everything else is healing fine. Her ribs are still sore, of course."

David stopped at the front door.

"Why don't you stay for dinner, David? I have it all fixed. There's certainly enough for the three of us."

"Well then, you'd better invite Jack." He shook his head to stop her protests. "No, thank you. I'm not staying for dinner, or anything else. It's over, Suzanne. It's not some little tiff that will blow over, like you told Jenny."

Suzanne tossed her head, "I just didn't want to worry her, that's all. There's plenty of time to tell her..."

"I already have told her, Suzanne."

"What? She's not ready for you to be filling her head with tales."

"Wrong, Suzanne. She wanted to know. That's where we've been. She wanted to go for a ride, then insisted on knowing what had happened. So I told her. The whole truth – about Michelle and me – about Mark – and about you and Jack."

"How dare you!" Suzanne's eyes blazed with fury.

"Easy. I wanted her to hear my side from me. I told her to tell you we'd talked, to give you a chance to tell your side of it. I told her you'd see things differently than I do. Give her credit, Suzanne. She's a very bright young woman."

"No thanks to you," Suzanne snapped. Seeing the look on David's face, she instantly regretted the hasty remark.

"That's right, I'd forgotten. No thanks to me." David nearly whispered the words. Anger boiled to the surface again. "I've just been her father for the last 20 years. Goodbye Suzanne. My lawyer will be in touch."

"Oh David..." Suzanne's words were lost on the closing door. She turned and walked quietly into the den. She sat down behind the big mahogany desk, leaning her head on one delicate hand.

She finally lifted her head, scanning the desk top. She toyed with the phone receiver, finally picking it up, punching in the all-too-familiar number. With a click, the recorded message droned on. "This is Lt. Colonel Jack Morrick. I'm away from the phone right now..."

Suzanne slammed the receiver down in its cradle. He'd had that blessed machine on ever since Jenny had been hurt. "I may just have to pay Mr. Morrick a visit."

She headed toward the stairs just to check on Jenny one more time. Jenny was all she had left.

"Jenny?"

"Come on in, Mom. I'm not asleep."

"Darling, do you think you could be alone for a little while? I have an errand to run. We'll have dinner when I get back."

Jenny smiled up at her mom. "Sure. I'll probably be asleep before you get out of the drive. Wake me for dinner."

Suzanne brushed the curls from her daughter's forehead. She's such a pretty young thing. I do hope I can find her a more appropriate young man.

"I will. I won't be gone long."

******

The buzzer would not be ignored. "I'm coming, I'm coming." Jack stumbled over the ottoman on the way to the door, "Hold your horses! What's so...Oh, Suzanne."

He stared out the half-open door. Suzanne tapped her foot impatiently. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Uh, sure, I guess so." He stood aside, letting the door swing open. Suzanne brushed past him, into his solitary apartment. Her gaze took in the room.

"Well I see you haven't changed much. Your college room was decorated with airplanes as well."

He followed her gaze to the models on the mantle – models suspended from the ceiling – models of all the planes he'd ever flown. "Yeah, well, you know I've always loved planes."

"She turned to face him. "I know. More than you've ever loved anything or anyone else, right?"

"Right." He stared at Suzanne, standing in the middle of the cluttered living room. "What's this all about, Suzanne? Why come here now?"

"Why not? There's no need to be secretive anymore. David has left me and moved into his own apartment. And he's told Jennifer all about us."

"Good God." Jack raked a hand through his unruly blond curls. "Why did he ever do that?"

"Because she asked, according to David. He had some misguided notion that Jennifer was entitled to the truth, about us, all of us, and about her birth."

"And just what does he think the truth is, Suzanne?"

"That you're Jennifer's father, of course. What else?"

Jack paced the floor. "Is that what you told him?"

Suzanne arched an eyebrow in his direction. "What else would I have told him. It is the truth, after all."

Jack exploded. "You don't know that for sure, Suzanne. You didn't know it then and you don't know it now."

"What do you mean?

"I mean I wasn't the only guy you were dating. I knew that. And surely David knows that, too."

Suzanne caught her breath. "You were the only man I was – intimate with back then. I loved you and I thought you loved me."

"Oh come on, Suzanne. I never said I loved you. Never. And I don't believe I was your only lover. Jenny could belong to several other guys besides me, or David for that matter. I still don't believe I'm Jenny's dad."

"Oh really? Well David certainly isn't. I was pregnant when we started dating. I may not have been able to prove it then, but I'll bet I can prove it now. The same way David managed to prove that Jenny's fiancé was his son."

"What!"

"I'll tell you that story later. I learned all about the DNA records your precious Air Force keeps. But what came of it was that they can do all kinds of genetic matching these days. And your records and Jenny's records and my records are all on file. I imagine we could find out very easily, whether or not you're her father. Would you like me to do that?"

Jack scratched his chin and stared at Suzanne a long time. "What do you want from me, Suzanne? It won't make any difference, even if she is my daughter. She's grown – way past child support age."

"I want your acknowledgment of us. I thought you might want to have some place in your daughter's life now that David has deserted us."

Jack nodded, running his hand along his chin and down his neck. "Oh...now I understand. You mean, deserted you, don't you, Suzanne? He'd never desert Jenny. She's the only person he does love. If you think I'm going to step into his shoes and take up where he left off...no thanks, Suzanne. I've never wanted a wife or live-in and I don't want one now."

Suzanne stiffened. "Very well. But don't think you're going to have any place in Jennifer's life. I'll see to it that you don't."

Jack looked at Suzanne with a look coming very close to pity. "Suzanne, if I'd wanted children, I would have had them. Not being a part of Jenny's life is no big deal to me. Sorry but that's the way I feel." Jack walked to the mantle and absent-mindedly pick up one of the models. "And there are other women who would be glad to see me, if you don't want to."

"I should have known better than to come here." fumed Suzanne.

"Yes, you should have. You got yourself into this mess. I don't intend to be your meal ticket out of it. If Jenny decides to hate me, so be it. I was never father material, Suzanne. At least I know what I am. And I've never made any bones about it. Dave did a much better job of being a father than I ever would have done." He faced her square. "If you want to prove that I'm Jenny's father go ahead. I won't try to stop you. But it won't change anything. I'm not going to start playing Colonel Dad just so you have someone to fill in for Dave when you need an escort."

Suzanne's disgust filled the room. "I am sorry I disturbed you Mr. Morrick. It won't happen again. And be sure NEVER to call me again. I'm sure I will NEVER have time for you, either."

She spun on her heel and stomped out of the apartment. Jack let out a long, low whistle. "Jack, old boy, it's getting too close for comfort around here. You need to find yourself another assignment and fast."

******

Suzanne closed the door and clicked the lock quietly. No sense waking Jenny. She'd let her sleep a while. Dinner could wait.

"Mother!" Jenny's voice rang out from upstairs. Suzanne looked up with a start.

"Coming dear. What's wrong?" Suzanne rushed up the stairs and flung open Jenny's bedroom door. The entire room was a shambles, drawers out, closets opened, clothes everywhere. Jenny stood by the edge of the bed, panting from the obvious exertion of tearing the room apart.

"Jenny, what have you been doing? Good heavens, look at this mess!"

"Where is it?" Jenny spit out from between clenched teeth.

"Where is what, dear. What are you looking for?"

"You know very well what. Where is my wedding dress? The words snapped through the air.

"Oh, that!" Suzanne laughed a nervous little laugh. "Is that what this is about?"

"Stop it, Mother." Jenny fairly hissed the words. "Answer me. What have you done with my wedding dress?"

Suzanne looked away, cleared her throat and turned back to Jenny. "Actually, dear, I sent it back."

"Sent it back?"

"Well yes, dear, I thought..."

Jenny's fury brought a bright pink color to her cheeks. "You thought what, Mother? Why wouldn't I still want my wedding dress? I haven't changed my mind about getting married."

Suzanne shifted from foot to foot." I just thought you might want something different, dear – that this dress might have bad memories attached to it." Suzanne struggled to find the words to calm her daughter's anger. "Since we have a little more time, I thought perhaps you might want a more formal wedding, that's all."

"I don't know what kind of a wedding we'll have, Mother, but I'm going to be married in that dress. I suggest you call Arriannes immediately and get it back!"

"But..."

"And if they've sold it, they can make me another. I want that dress, Mother. Since you got rid of it, you can get it back."

"Really, Jennifer." Suzanne tossed her head. "There's no need to be cross."

Jenny backed up just a tad. "I'm not being cross, Mother. I'm very upset. I know you aren't pleased with our plans. If you really can't go along with them, I'll go live with Dad. He's already invited me, and he won't interfere. I'm going to marry Mark as soon as I'm out of this silly cast and through with therapy."

Suzanne faced her daughter, the color draining from her face. "That's not necessary. I won't say another word about your marriage. If that's what you choose to do with you life, fine. I was just trying to think of your future. This is your room and your home, there's no reason for you to leave it."

Jenny sank down on the edge of her bed, exhausted by the discussion. "Thank you. We'll be all right, Mom. You'll see. We both love each other."

That pointed remark hung in the air. Suzanne finally sighed. "Well, for your sake, dear, I hope that's enough. Love doesn't pay for groceries, or buy dresses at Arriannes."

Jenny looked at her mom. "Maybe not, Mom. But it makes you happy when you're eating hot dogs and buying jeans at K-Mart."

Suzanne shook her head, turned and left the room.

Jenny leaned back, carefully adjusting the pillows under her cast. This is going to be tough. she's not going to give up, I know.

In her own room, Suzanne slid open the door to the big walk-in closet. She stared at the big Arriannes box, tucked in behind the shoes. I suppose I should give it back to her.

She tapped her foot, staring at the box. "No" she said aloud. "I'll just keep it tucked away a few more days. I can always give it to her later."

Suzanne closed the closet door. The dress was safe enough. Perhaps a few visitors while Jenny recuperated, a few select young men and their families, might give her an idea of the choices she really had, what with Mark away at training school. There was still time. The wheels started to turn. Suzanne's next dinner party was soon in the planning stages.

******

David walked to the desk, centered in his apartment living room. He hadn't bothered to do much with the place. He couldn't get real excited about decorating. When Jenny felt better, maybe he'd ask her to spruce it up a bit. No matter, it was serviceable. He'd been lucky to find a furnished apartment. Especially close to campus. He reached over and flipped open his laptop. Working at home during the summer was certainly easier than going to campus every day. He pulled up the e-mail screen and scanned the messages waiting. "Hmmm." He popped open a special one.

Dave, old buddy. Sorry about the mess. On my way back to Thailand. Got to see a general about a computer we installed. Six month assignment. Hope things straighten out for you. Jack

"Just Like Jack." David shook his head. Jack always ran from trouble, unless he had an airplane around him. He was a hell of a fighter, inside a plane. Oh well, Suzanne will have to get along on her own, for once.

He turned to his books. Next semester's lesson plans were good for him. They'd occupy his mind until the lawyer called. The papers would be ready any day.

******

Jenny watched her mother fluff the lawn chair cushions one more time. "Mom, tell me again. Who's coming to dinner?"

"Arthur Marchall, his wife and son, dear. Dear friends of mine from the club. And it's not a formal dinner. We're just going to grill out here on the patio."

Jenny's gaze took in the carefully dressed patio furniture. If it wasn't formal, it certainly wasn't every day. Greenery sprouted from every table top. Mother had outdone herself. "Is he Air Force?"

"No, No, not that club. The Country Club. He's a banker. You know. Marian and I play tennis."

"Oh."

Suzanne fussed with the table top, brushing away the tiniest of fly specks on the sparkling white cloth covering the table. "I'm sure you'll like them, dear. You may know their son. He attended the same school you do. He's just a bit older."

Jenny shot her mom a skeptical look. "What's his name?"

"Ron, I believe, Ronald Marchall. He's working at the bank, with his father."

"That's nice." Jenny chewed her lip a moment, then said quietly, "Mom, shouldn't my dress be in at Arriannes by now? You said they'd special order it."

"Oh sweetheart, don't worry about it. You know it could take weeks to make a dress like that. All that beading. I'm sure it will come in sooner or later."

"Hmm. Well, what shall I wear tonight?"

"Oh, something very informal, dear. Something you can get easily over your cast. We're just going to do steaks out on the grill, nothing fancy."

"Fine. I'll go change."

Suzanne smiled. "That's a dear. They'll be here soon."

Jenny went upstairs and sorted through her closet. She finally sighed. All of my tops go over my head.

She paced in front of the closet. "I know!" She snapped her fingers. "Mother's sweatshirt cardigan. It zips up the front. I'll wear that with my khaki slacks. She won't mind."

Jenny could hear her mother bustling about down below. She hurried down the hallway to her mother's room and slid open the walk-in closet door. "Let's see, it should be in here somewhere...oh, there."

She gave the sweater a yank. It slipped out of her hand and onto the floor. "Well, come on Clumsy Gus. You've got to be better than that with one hand."

She bent down to retrieve the sweater, draped in a heap over her mother's shoes. What's this?

Jenny moved the sweater a bit and saw the edge of the big mauve box. "Arriannes," she whispered, shoving the shoes out of the way.

She finally got the big box from behind the shoes. Prying up a corner, she peeked in. "My dress." she hissed. "It's been here all along." She clenched her teeth. "That's it!"

She struggled up with the box and the sweater, juggling the two quietly back to her own room. Once inside, she closed and locked the door. Quickly she pulled her duffel bag out of the closet. She gently rolled her wedding dress and veil up in the beautiful mauve tissue and stuffed it in the bag. Hurriedly, she filled the bag with undies, shoes, slacks, anything easy that would fit.

Once satisfied with her packing, she picked up her phone, thankful she had her own private line, and made a quick call. That done, she unlocked her door, slung the bag over her good shoulder and tiptoed to the head of the stairs. The clang of the grill told her Suzanne was still at the back of the house. She slipped down the stairs and stuffed the bag into the hall closet.

"Now I'll get ready for this party," she fumed. "Mother's got a real surprise coming."

******

Marian Marchall leaned toward Suzanne, sitting beside her in the comfy lawn chair. "They do make a lovely couple, Suzanne. You're so right." She nodded toward Ron and Jenny, standing beside the grill. The two waited patiently while Arthur gave the steaks another turn.

"It's just too bad they didn't meet in school," said Suzanne in a low tone. "I think they would have hit it off then. Sometimes we mothers just have to help these things along."

Marian laughed. "Well at least now they've met. We'll just have to let nature take its course."

Suzanne nodded. "Well there's nothing to say we can't help to clear that course a little."

Marian grinned and lifted her glass their way. "They seem to be at least talking to one another. That's a good sign. Ron seems to never get his nose out of an accounting book these days."

They all looked up at the door bell's ring. Jenny nearly dropped her plate. "Oh, everyone stay right here, I'll get it."

She set the plate down and darted inside.

Suzanne looked at Marian. "I can't imagine who that might be. We weren't expecting company." She set her drink down. "I think I'll just go see who's here. Excuse me, Marian."

Marian nodded and Suzanne headed inside. She got to the front hall just in time to see David helping Jenny on with her jacket. Jenny's duffel bag set at his feet.

"What are you doing here? What's going on? Jenny, what are you doing?"

Jenny spoke, anger seething in her voice. "Dad's here because I called him, Mother. I'm leaving."

"Now? Jenny we have guests."

"No, Mother. You have guests. I told you, I wouldn't put up with your trying to interfere with my wedding plans."

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"Spare me, Mother. This whole thing was set up for me to meet Ron. That's so obvious, it hurts."

"But..."

"But that's not what made me so mad, Mother. I could deal with that. You lied to me, Mother – just flat out lied to me."

David looked at Jenny in awe. He'd never seen her this angry.

Suzanne took a step back, surprised at the anger in her daughter's tone. "What?"

"Mother, I found my dress...in your closet...when I went to borrow this sweatshirt."

"Oh, but dear, it just came. I..."

Jenny cut her off. "Mother, please don't lie any more. The box still has my handwriting on it. I'd made a couple of notes on the lid. It's the same dress. You just tried to keep it from me, hoping I'd change my mind."

Suzanne struggled for words. Jenny turned to David. "Let's go please, Dad. I need to be out of here."

"Anything you say, hon." David grabbed the duffel bag, swung around and opened the door.

Suzanne found her voice. "David, this is all your fault. I should have..."

"Mother!" Jenny snapped. "It's all your fault, and no one else's. You'd better go back. Your guests are waiting."

Jenny stomped out the door, without another word. David followed, pulling it tight shut. Suzanne stared at the big oak panel. Whatever am I going to tell the Marchalls?

******

David and Jenny stood before the tiny closet in his spare bedroom. Jenny's wedding dress hung on the spindly wire hanger, drooping severely from the weight. Her floppy slippers sat on the floor next to her tennies. A couple of pairs of jeans and two big float tops completed her entire wardrobe. Her duffel bag sat on the scrawny twin bed.

David shook his head. "Pretty sorry wardrobe, kid. Really a come down from your closet."

She giggled, slipped her good arm around his waist and laid her head on his chest. "It'll be fine, Dad. At least you won't try to hide things from me and tell me lies about where things are."

He hugged her as best he could, trying not to crunch her cast. "That twin bed is a far cry from your canopy bed."

Jenny shrugged. "I've outgrown the canopy, anyway. I doubt that Mark will like sleeping in a canopy bed. What do you think?"

David couldn't suppress a grin. "Well if he flies under a canopy all day, he probably won't want to sleep under one all night."

Jenny nodded. "I didn't think so either." She glanced around at the Spartan bedroom. The mismatched bed, night stand and dresser were serviceable but not much else.

"But, dad, we're going to have to do something with this place. Did you get this stuff from the refugee center?"

He laughed, walking to the dresser. He popped a fist softly on its top. The hollow core lumber echoed a dull thud. "Now, now. Don't demean my furniture. It's been in some of the finest apartments on base."

Jenny laughed. "Base surplus. I should have known."

David nodded. "And some of the 'finer' pieces came with the apartment. You can do whatever you want, as soon as you feel like messing with it. In the meantime, we'll give your mother a couple of days to cool off. Then we'll go get the rest of your stuff."

Jenny yawned. "That will be fine. I can live in jeans for a few days. Mom will stay livid for a while, because I walked out on her party. But, I did warn her, Dad. I told her not to try to interfere. Finding my dress was the last straw."

David nodded. "I know just what you mean."

Jenny regarded her father warmly. "You have a lot more patience than I do, Dad." She yawned again. "And right now I'm going to take a nap. This whole evening has worn me out."

He kissed her softly on the forehead. "That's a good idea. Since you didn't get supper, I'll see what I can get together for us. I'll wake you when it's ready."

Chapter 10

"Joe!"

Karen's cry echoed throughout the empty house. Gasping, she sat up, staring into the darkness, chest heaving for breath. She clutched the covers close. Her eyes focused on the gentle glow of the night light across the room.

"Not again!" She sobbed into the twisted sheet. The nightmares would not stay away. Over and over, she relived those last terrible moments, in the motel room with Joe, breathing for him, pumping on his chest. And she couldn't change anything, not even in her dreams. His gray, still face kept floating in and out of her mind.

She touched the lamp base. Its welcome glow spread throughout the room. Wiping her eyes, she stumbled out of bed and to the master bath. Turning on the Jacuzzi, she slipped out of her gown. "I've got to relax. Got to stop this!"

She reached for the medicine bottle sitting on the counter. She turned it around in her hand, reading and re-reading the prescription instructions. "One at bedtime, to aid sleep. A lot of good these did."

Setting the jar down, she turned the faucet off and ran her fingers through the water. Satisfied, she stepped into the soothing tub. Settling down, she flipped the switch. The water began to swirl around her.

She leaned her head against the tub and let the bubbling liquid do its work. "Well kiddo – you have to get a hold of yourself. You can't go on like this. You can't work if you can't sleep. Joe wouldn't want you to do this." The words echoed in the tiled spaces of the bathroom. Lecturing herself wasn't helping any.

Tears spilled unnoticed down her cheeks at the mere thought of him. The big empty spot in her heart ached. Losing the man she loved, twice in one lifetime, was almost more than she could bear. First Eric, now Joe. Her mind wandered back. "Actually three times," she said aloud. "I lost David before I lost Joe." She shook her head. "Maybe I should have been a nun. I certainly haven't done very well with my men."

A cold, mirthless laugh escaped her lips. "And maybe I should see a shrink. I'm sitting in the bath tub, talking to myself at three o'clock in the morning."

The water continued to bubble, working its soothing magic. She hummed in time to the Jacuzzi motor. "I've got to do something. This place has too many memories. Tomorrow – Michelle-Karen-Woods-Stevens – tomorrow you're going to get on with your life."

******

"That's right, Jill. I want you to talk to an agency and sublet this place. I'm leaving, for at least a while."

Karen smiled at the sputtering going on at the other end of the phone. "I'll keep in touch. You'll know where I am all the time."

Karen listened again. "Jill, just tell the publisher that if they want my next book, they'll have to leave me alone for a little while. I'm not up to writing one right this minute... Bye, Jill."

Karen laughed. Poor Jill. She's always holding things together at the office.

She drummed her fingers on the desktop, then clicked the phone again and dialed another number. "Annie – Annie how are you?"

Karen loved her sister's infectious laugh. It echoed through the phone lines, warming her heart. "I know, you're always wonderful...No. No, I'm not doing very well. That's why I called – I want you to do something for me. I want you to find me a house...there in Bellevue." Karen smiled at her sister's reaction. "Yes, there. I'm coming back, for a while at least. There are too many ghosts walking these halls and I've got to get away."

Karen listened to the barrage of questions coming over the phone. "Annie, dear, listen to me. I've made up my mind. Find me a house either up on the boulevard or out by Chris Lake. Something on the lake would be my first choice, but a house on the boulevard would do, maybe close to the forest."

She listened patiently to another explosion from the other end. "Annie, I trust your judgment. I'll be there in a week." Karen hung up the phone. "Well, ready or not, here I go."

******

Annie shook her head, pulling into the drive opening into Chris Lake. "Well, sister of mine, it's your own fault if you don't like this place. A week isn't enough time to do a proper house search." The sleepy little community curled itself around several sandpits-turned-lakeside-residential areas, snuggled against the Platte River.

"I'm sure it will be fine, Annie. Is it on this side or over by the river?"

"It's on this side. I figured you didn't need to worry about getting flooded out. You've had enough to deal with, without worrying about the Platte River running through your living room."

"Just like you, Annie, always practical."

"Humph!" Annie snorted. "No, this isn't a practical house. It's an artist's house, or rather, a writer's house, sister dear." She pulled the car into the drive of a low-slung ranch house. "Here we are."

Karen slid out, taking in the front of the house. "It's darling outside, Annie. If it's this pretty inside, I'll love it."

Annie marched ahead, opening the door. "Take a look. You wanted a lake view. Well you've got it, on two levels."

Karen walked in. The house stretched out on both sides of her. The living room opened up in front of her, to a huge set of walk-out double doors; to a suspended deck overlooking the lake. "Oh Annie I don't need to see any more – this is beautiful."

Annie laughed. "This isn't the part that sold me. Come on down, to the lower level." She headed down the staircase, hidden behind the side wall.

"This is what sold me." Annie flung her arms wide, encompassing the lower level great room. "Isn't this gorgeous? It's cozy, charming and open, all at the same time."

Karen laughed. She had to admit, Annie was right. Another set of double doors opened out onto the lake. But this set led to the lower level patio, below the upper deck and the sand beach stretching away from the patio to the water line. "My very own beach."

"Well, as long as you don't venture too far to either side," chuckled Annie. "The lots aren't very wide."

"Oh, but it's big enough for me."

"I thought so. You could write down here. And see, " Annie said, opening an interior set of French doors, "there's a bedroom suite down here, too. You could set up your office down here, and when you get on a roll, you can just stay down here until you're finished. And when you're done, curl up in front of this fireplace and watch the ducks land on the lake."

Karen stood in front of the fireplace, glancing first into its depths, then to the big patio door, inviting her outside. "Oh Annie. It's perfect. If I can't write here, I can't write anywhere."

Annie smiled, pleased with her choice. Maybe it would put a permanent smile back on her baby sister's face. She'd had far too much unhappiness in her life. "Well, then, if you like it, let's go. You close on Monday." Annie headed up the stairs. "I'll be right there." Karen shook her head in wonder. Annie was a dynamo. Just give her a task and look out. Karen walked to the door and leaned against the frame, watching the big cottonwoods sway in the summer breeze. Across the lake, several children played in the water, laughing and shouting as they jumped from dock to boat to water. Her eyes misted over. She leaned her head against the door frame and repeated her words, "If I can't write here, I can't write anywhere."

"Michelle, are you all right?" Annie's voice echoed down the staircase.

Karen looked up. The old name filtered down and snuggled around her, welcoming her home. "I'm fine, Annie. I'm coming right up." She turned away from the door and headed upstairs.

******

The courtroom atmosphere pressed in on those waiting for the judge behind the bench. David drummed his fingers on the table top. This proceeding had been tedious and tiresome. The judge's gavel descended with a final bag. "Court's adjourned."

The bailiff intoned, "All rise."

David stood, watching the judge sweep from her chair and into her chambers.

Finally. His shoulders sagged. He turned and shook his lawyer's hand. "Thanks for everything."

His attorney shrugged and picked up his papers. "I didn't do much. You gave away the farm, David. Lawyers are supposed to keep you from doing that."

David shook his head. "I got what I wanted. I'm a free man."

"In three months."

"Yes, in three months. She can have the house, and the year's alimony, and the claim on my pension. She followed me around for twenty years. She deserves that. Waiting three months won't be too bad."

The attorney gave his briefcase locks a final click. "Like I said, you didn't give me too much to do. I hope you're happy."

David nodded. "I hope so, too."

He looked across at Suzanne, talking quietly to her lawyer. She looked thinner, if possible, than the last time he'd seen her. She glanced his way. Seeing him stare, she took a few steps towards him.

"David, if you would, tell Jennifer she's welcome to come home any time. There's no reason for her to stay in that cramped little apartment of yours." The chill in her voice could have frozen ice cubes.

David almost laughed. Struggling to maintain a straight face he said, "I will, Suzanne. I don't have her locked up. She can come home any time. I'm not standing in her way."

She shot another frigid glance his direction. "I hope you're satisfied."

David nodded. "You should be too, Suzanne. I won't be in your way any longer."

Suzanne sneered and turned on her heel. Picking up her bag, she tossed a comment at her attorney and headed up the court room center aisle, stiletto heels clicking sharply on the hardwood floor.

David watched her go. She still doesn't understand. He shook his head. Maybe she'll be happy later.

He picked up his papers from the table and followed Suzanne up the aisle. He had to get home. Jenny had another therapy session this afternoon.

******

Suzanne threw her bag on her bed. "A year – one measly year's worth of alimony," she fumed. "And what am I supposed to do after that? Go to work? Like some common laborer?"

She stomped to her closet, yanked out her dressing gown and headed for the bath. The steam from the tub swirled around her as she rid herself of the day's clothing. A little magnolia should help. She poured a luxuriant capful of the bubbling foam into the waiting tub. The frothy bubbles piled up and the magnolia scent wafted through the room. She took a deep breath, letting the scent work its soothing magic on her nerves. She slid into the waiting pool, settling back against her contoured bath pillow. Pressing her fingertips together into tiny tents, she contemplated her future.

"Well my dear – you have one year from today to find yourself a suitable husband. One who will appreciate a lovely, southern lady."

One of her famous lists began to form in her mind. Only this one was of Colorado Springs' most eligible, well-to-do, suitably mature bachelors. A smile found its way across her face when she considered the name on the top of that mental list.

Of course. Dr. Abrams. Such a dear man. And so busy. He needs someone to take good care of him and his home. Such a shame he lost his charming wife, Elaine.

Suzanne's mind raced. I really must get in for my check up. I haven't seen him in – at least a year. She nodded to herself. A doctor's appointment was certainly in order, at his nice, private clinic.

******

"Oh Doctor Abrams, I just haven't been getting any sleep at all. I've been under such stress." Suzanne lifted a hand to her forehead.

Dr. Abrams leaned back. "Well, now, why don't you just tell me about it?"

Suzanne started, stopped, then started again. "My life has just fallen apart, Doctor. First, my daughter was in a dreadful car accident. Then, before she got out of the hospital, my husband chose to announce that he'd decided to leave me!"

"Goodness. That's quite a bit to happen at once." Dr. Abrams frowned.

Suzanne nodded. "We just finished the divorce proceedings. I've been a good wife for twenty years, and now...now I'm by myself, starting all over again."

"Hmmm!"

Suzanne noted the concerned look on his face. "Doctor, what makes men decide they have to take off for greener pastures after twenty years of marriage? We were just getting to where things were easier for us."

Dr. Abrams put on his best bedside manner. He reached over and patted her hand. "I really don't know, Suzanne. I can't imagine why a man lucky enough to have a wife as lovely as you, would decide to leave."

Suzanne smiled. "What a lovely thing to say, Doctor. I hope your wife appreciates you."

He cleared his throat. "Unfortunately I lost my wife a few years ago. It's lonely without her. Your husband doesn't know how lucky he was to have your company."

"How sad for you, Dr. Abrams." The tinge of color she could see rising on Dr. Abrams throat told her that he was not used to people noticing his condition in life. Poor man needs some attention. She gave him a tiny smile of encouragement.

He cleared his throat again. "Yes – well, we have to take care of you. I'm going to give you some sleeping tablets." He pulled a pad out of the desk drawer and scribbled a prescription. He held the paper in her direction. "And I want to see you again in a week."

She reached to take it. He took her hand, pressing the paper to her palm gently, "We don't want you getting depressed over this, understand?"

Suzanne let out a big sigh, squeezing his hand ever so slightly, "I'm so glad you understand, Doctor. I've just felt so alone."

"Well, now you're not alone." Dr. Abrams reluctantly released her hand. "You just get yourself back here in a week. Doctors are supposed to take good care of their patients."

Suzanne rewarded him with a blinding smile. "I'll be a very good patient. I'll see you in a week."

Dr. Abrams watched her leave the examining room, then made a few notes on her chart. He looked up again toward the empty door. Re-opening the chart, he pulled out his pocket address book. Adjusting his glasses, he copied down the address and phone number. Closing the file once again, he adjusted his tie and pulled his coat lapels straight. Mrs. Carlson was a charming woman. He'd have to check on her later in the week, just to make sure the pills were helping. Picking up the chart, he walked out of the office.

******

Michelle-Karen shoved back from her computer table. She scowled at the still-blank screen, raking her fingers through her hair.

"This isn't getting me anywhere!" Her voice echoed through the quiet house. "I have to get through this sagging middle." Her ever-patient publishers were becoming insistent. If this book was going to be in next year's schedule, she had to get it finished. She glanced toward the patio. Maybe a walk will help.

She strode outside. Even though the leaves were beginning to turn, it was still warm enough for just her sweatshirt. Stuffing her hands into her jeans pockets, she walked slowly onto the beach, kicking up sand puffs as she walked.

She wandered along the water's edge. A tiny half clam shell caught her eye. Picking it up, she turned it slowly between her fingertips. "All my inspiration would fit inside this little old shell."

Closing her fingers around the shell, she stuffed it into her pocket. Shaking her head, she walked on.

"Hey! Don't you ever answer you door bell?"

Karen turned at the sound of Annie's voice. "Oh, hi, sis. Guess I didn't hear it."

"Humph! You were concentrating so hard, I could have set off a bomb up there and you would have never noticed."

Annie scrambled down the bank, to beach level. "I have a surprise for you. One you can't refuse."

"What are you talking about?"

Annie shook the papers in her hand. "I have here two ticket to Las Vegas, one for you and one for me."

Michelle shook her head, gut tightening at her sister's revelation. "No, Annie. I told Mark I wasn't ready. He understands why I won't be at the wedding."

Annie planted her fists firmly on her hips. "Bullfeathers. Your son may understand, but I don't He's your only son, and you're the only parent he has. You'll have to give me a better story, sister of mine. That book has waited this long. It can wait a while longer. You have no excuse for skipping your son's wedding." Annie wagged a motherly finger Michelle's direction. "Joe's been gone eight months and he'd have a fit if he knew you weren't going to that wedding. Besides, Mark's the one who sent me the tickets."

Michelle gave Annie a long look. "What did Mark say?"

"That he really wants you there and so does Jenny."

Michelle stood still, kicking sand pebbles. She could see the perplexed look on Annie's face.

Annie pursed her lips, focusing on the dark look hanging over Michelle's usually bright face. "He's called me a couple of times to ask about you, Michelle. He's really worried about you, no matter what he says about understanding. Now that he's finished with his training and is at Nellis Air Base, he and Jenny can be married. Las Vegas is a perfect place. It's close to them and it's 'neutral ground,' so to speak. No bad memories, like the Springs – no ghosts to haunt you."

Michelle looked up. "Oh, it's not that."

Annie shot her a skeptical look. "Oh no? Then what is wrong? Something sure seems to be."

Michelle ran a wary hand across her mouth, then wrapped her fingers around her neck, massaging its taut, aching muscles. "Okay, big sister. Let me tell you a story. Then we can decide if I ought to go. Let's talk about the wedding that almost wasn't."

They headed back, toward the patio. Michelle raked a hand through her hair and began to talk.

******

"Whew-ee." Annie let out a long whistle. "I guess I do understand why you might be a tad reluctant, after all."

Michelle nodded, leaning back in her lounge chair. "If I hadn't loused things up in the beginning, none of this would have happened. And Joe wouldn't be dead."

"Now I understand what's been eating at you all this time. You're carrying around enough guilt for three people." Annie reached across and took Michelle's chin in her hand, shaking it gently. "You have to stop that. You're wrong – very wrong. You didn't kill Joe."

"But..."

"No buts, Michelle. You have to stop. Joe had been warned by his doctor, I know that. You told me so. He ate what he wanted and he smoked as much he wanted and he did exactly what he wanted. Joe's death was not your fault. You made Joe a very good wife. You did love him while you were married to him. And he loved you, we all knew that."

Tears rimmed Michelle's eyes. She nodded, unable to speak.

"You listen to me, Michelle. All this other stuff is not enough to kill a man. Upset him? Yes. Infuriate him? Yes. Maybe even make him leave you? Yes. But kill him? NO! So just stop it. Do you hear me!"

Annie pulled Michelle up from her chair. "Joe killed Joe, if there was any killing done. You had twenty wonderful years with him. And you have a wonderful son to remember him by – even if the biology is a little suspect."

Michelle smiled in spite of herself. Annie did have a way with words. Annie tipped Michelle's face to her. "And that son needs you to be at his wedding, my dear."

Michelle brushed away a tear. "You really think so?"

"Of course, I really think so." Annie tugged at her sister's elbow. "Come, you have packing to do. We are going to Las Vegas. Sam and the kids can fend for themselves for a few days. I need a vacation, myself. Mark is going to have at least the two of us on his side of the chapel."

"But what about the rest..."

Annie waved her hand. "We aren't going to worry about the rest of them, at all. They can sort themselves out. You're certainly the mother of the groom – that's all you need to worry about."

Michelle let out a sigh. She felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She did want to see Mark's wedding. "You make things sound simple, Annie. I guess you're right. I probably do need to be there." Michelle gave her sister a big hug.

A smile shot across Annie's face. "I know you need to be there – for you as much as for Mark. You have to come back into the world of the living, dear. This is as good a way as any."

Michelle nodded. "I probably need something to wear. I left everything in California. I've lived in sweats and jeans since I've been here."

Annie laughed out loud. "I'm sure you need a new dress. Come on. We'll see what we can find."

******

The muted sounds of the wedding march filled the cozy chapel at the Las Vegas hotel. Those gathered for the event rose and turned to watch Jenny, carefully guided by David, make the trip down the aisle.

She made a radiant bride. Her beaded gown, so lovingly picked out earlier, hung a little loosely from her shoulders, but it was just right for the ceremony. She'd opted for a wrist corsage, to protect her still-healing shoulder. The cast was gone, but carrying a bouquet was something she couldn't do just yet. The narrow sling, fashioned of ecru ribbon, blended in with the dress, and the corsage covered the band around her wrist.

Michelle glanced from Jenny to Mark. The love on his face was clearly evident. She smiled. They're both just glowing. They are starting out well.

She stole a glance across the aisle. Suzanne stood like a statue in the first pew, accompanied by her parents, Michelle guessed. The older woman looked a great deal like Suzanne, tall, willowy, but gray-haired instead of blond. The other man sitting beside Suzanne didn't look like her or anyone else, at all. Not a brother, but who? Michelle shrugged.

At the appropriate time, David answered the minister's question and stepped back. Jenny smiled at him, then slipped her arm out of his, and wrapped her hand around Mark's waiting elbow. Michelle swallowed hard to clear the lump in her throat. If only Joe could have seen this. He would have been so proud of their fine young man.

Michelle watched David make his way to the pew behind Suzanne. John and Dorine Carlson sat in that pew. They'd obviously left a space for David. She had deliberately not sought them out them before the ceremony. The reception would be enough.

The short ceremony went quickly. The happy couple led the party out of the chapel to the reception room set up in the banquet wing of the hotel.

Mark touched his mother's arm as she entered the room. "Mom, I need to talk to you just a minute."

He motioned her to one side. Michelle took a deep breath. "What wrong, dear?"

He grinned. "Nothing's wrong, Mom. I just think you ought to know. Neither set of Jenny's grandparents knows anything about Dad not being my dad, or you and Jenny's dad, or any of that."

Michelle exhaled sharply. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "That's what Jenny said. Evidently her parents...uh – evidently Suzanne and David – decided not to tell them."

Michelle shook her head. Maybe it was for the best. That certainly would make the rest of the day easier to deal with.

Mark watched the others file into the reception room. "They just know that Dad had a heart attack and died while you two were here for my graduation. And that Jenny was hurt in a car accident the same weekend."

Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that makes this meeting a little easier."

Mark grinned. "That's why I thought I better tell you before you talk to any of them. From the beginning, Suzanne didn't want you to know about Jenny, but they couldn't think of a way to let the wedding go on without telling you."

Michelle nodded. "You're right, I had to know. I still have trouble believing what happened."

"Well, Suzanne doesn't think it's necessary to explain anything else to the grandparents, so we can't let any cats out of their bags, can we?" Mark suppressed a laugh.

"Don't be ornery, Mark!" Michelle frowned. This is so-o complicated. "Well, your Aunt Annie knows. She insisted on knowing why I didn't want to come to your wedding."

Mark laughed. "Sounds like Aunt Annie. The two of you are a lot alike."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I'll warn her as well."

Mark nodded. "Thanks, Mom."

She looked up into his sparkling eyes. "I'm glad everything is working out for you and Jenny. But her mother still looks unhappy about the whole thing."

"I'm sure she is, Mom. She hasn't spoken to me since the accident, until today."

Michelle's eyebrows inched up a notch.

"Jenny's been staying with her dad, uh-David, for most of the time she's been out of the hospital. I guess she and her mother had words about the wedding. I was a little surprised to see her here today."

Michelle touched Mark's arm. "That's too bad, dear. Isn't that going to make things difficult for you two?"

Mark shook his head. "Jenny and I aren't going to be around her. With Jenny at Nellis, here with me, we don't have to see her, unless she decides to not be so upset about it."

Michelle nodded. "Well, for Jenny's sake and yours, I hope she comes around. You don't need in-law problems from the start."

Mark shook his head. "Hey, Mom, if we can handle what just happened, we can handle anything."

Michelle laughed. "I'm sure you're right. And you can start with your Aunt Annie. If we don't get over there, she'll want to know why we're not with the others." She gave Mark a hug. "Go to your bride, dear. That's where you should be."

Mark kissed her cheek. "Come on, Mom. We both need to be there."

She gave him a gentle shove. "Go on. I'll be right along." Michelle caught Annie's eye as Mark passed her. "Annie?"

Annie stopped, waiting for Michelle to catch up.

"I just want you to be forewarned," said Michelle, shielding her mouth with the back of her hand. "Evidently we're the only ones of the relatives who know the whole story of this today, so we're not to 'let any cats out of their bags,' as Mark put it."

Annie snorted and glanced around at the other guests. "Well from the looks on some of these faces, I doubt that, but if that's what the kids think, fine. Watch your back. If looks could kill, you'd be long dead. Jenny's mother has been throwing daggers at you ever since we walked in."

Michelle lowered her head. "That's one of the reasons I didn't want to be here, remember?"

Annie tossed her head. "Let her toss 'em. Looks have never killed anybody yet. Besides, that 'gentlemen' seems to be permanently attached to her arm, so she shouldn't be upset with you any longer. Didn't take her long to find someone else."

"Annie!"

"I'm just telling you what it looks like to me. I could be wrong." Annie gave a theatrical shrug of her shoulders and adopted her best 'picture of innocence' look. Michelle shook her head.

"Annie, I give up. Come on, they're taking pictures." The two turned to join the rest at the head table, while the bride and groom prepared to cut their cake.

******

"Mrs. Stevens? Allow me." Michelle turned to the man standing next to her at the punch bowl.

"Thank you, Mr..."

"Abrams. Dr. Russell Abrams. You may have noticed me sitting with Jennifer's mother?"

Michelle smiled. "Yes, I did see you there."

"Your son, Mark, pointed you out. I thought perhaps we should meet."

Michelle stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Abrams."

He pumped it, profusely. "Mark tells me you're an author. What do you write?"

Michelle extricated her hand from his power grip. "Novels, Doctor. My books are considered mainstream novels."

"Oh. Never read the things myself. Never seem to have the time."

Michelle smiled through her clenched teeth at the condescending tone in his voice. "I'm sure you're busy reading medical books."

"Oh, yes. Have to keep up with the latest in medicine. Sold many of these novels?"

Michelle shifted into her author-interview mode. "Actually, yes. The last one, Small Lies, was on the best seller list for thirteen weeks."

The doctor's condescending attitude disappeared. "Oh really? You have done well."

"Thank you, again."

Suzanne's voice came across the table. "Oh, there you are Russell." She eyed Michelle coldly. "Have you met Mrs. Stevens?"

Russell smiled. "Yes, I've just introduced myself. Thought I should meet the mother of the groom and all that."

Suzanne nodded. She came around the table and slipped her arm through his. "Russell, there are some other people I'd like you to meet, as well. I'm sure you'll excuse us, Mrs. Stevens?"

Michelle caught Suzanne's gaze and saw the anger still burning deep. "Of course. It was nice to meet you, Dr. Abrams."

He nodded and yielded to Suzanne's persistent tug on his arm. Michelle could hear their parting conversation.

"Did you know she had a best seller?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you that? Yes, I believe she did. Some time ago, as I recall."

Michelle smiled, watching Suzanne steer the good doctor across the room to more favored company. She certainly doesn't want him talking to me. Wonder what small lies she's told him?

She turned back to the refreshment table to pick up another cup of punch.

******

"Well, Michelle, this has been a pleasant surprise." Dorine Carlson gave Michelle a big hug. "I was just amazed when David told us that your son was marrying our granddaughter. He seems to be such a nice young man."

Michelle smiled. "Well I think so, Dorine."

"And it was certainly too bad about your husband – Joe – I think?"

Michelle nodded. "Yes it was quite a shock. With Jenny's accident and Joe's death, it really turned out be a bad weekend for both youngsters. I'm glad to see they've weathered the storm, so to speak."

Dorine glanced at the two, happily nibbling cake and talking to their own friends who had come to the wedding. "They do make a fine couple."

Michelle nodded again. "Jenny seems to have come through her therapy in good shape."

"Yes, she's doing very well," said a deep voice over her shoulder. Michelle looked up, into David's azure blue eyes. She hadn't heard him come up behind her.

"Oh, goodness, you startled me." She smiled. "Your mother and I have been talking about the children – what a nice couple they make."

David glanced their way, then back. "I hope they'll be as happy as they look today."

"I'll tell you what, Michelle," Dorine began, "this isn't the place to catch up on old times. Why don't we all meet in the lounge later, after the children leave. You can tell us all about your writing."

"Oh, I don't..." Michelle started, but David finished the sentence.

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Mother." David caught Michelle's gaze. "Why don't we all meet? Bring your sister – Annie, isn't it?"

Michelle's heart did a tiny hop-skip. Surprised at the unfamiliar feeling, her resistance disappeared. "Fine. We'll see you there. About nine tonight?"

Dorine nodded. "That will be time to get back from taking the kids to the airport, won't it David?"

David nodded. "Their plane leaves at eight."

"Oh good. Well, I need to see who John's boring with war stories now." She glanced her husband's direction. "We'll see you later, Michelle, dear."

Dorine headed across the room. Michelle looked up at David. "Your mother hasn't change a bit, since I saw her years ago."

David laughed. "Not much. Still trying to keep Dad from reliving the Korean war with every person who shows the slightest interest."

He reached for her glass. "Let me get that filled. I'm glad you came today, Michelle. I know the children wanted you here. And I did, too."

Michelle smiled. "I thought it might be too – awkward – with me here. I didn't realize that the story hadn't been told to the grandparents."

David's smile disappeared. "That's Suzanne's doing. She didn't even want to tell them we were divorced, but then she met the man that's with her today, so then it was all right to admit that we weren't still together."

Michelle tipped her head. "I guess I didn't realize you and Suzanne had actually divorced. Mark mentioned that you had separated but I thought perhaps the two of you could patch things up."

"Not likely. That's a whole different story, Michelle. Let's just say there was nothing between us left to patch."

Michelle swallowed hard, guilt raising its nasty head again. "I'm sorry if I came between the two of you, David."

"Nope, wasn't you at all, Michelle. You just set things in motion for us to see our life as it really was." He turned to her. "Anyway, I'll look forward to this evening. Bring Annie, that way you won't feel alone. And warn her about Dad's war stories."

Michelle laughed out loud, and somewhere deep in her consciousness, it registered that David was making her laugh again, just as he had after Eric's death.

******

Dorine tipped her glass and drained the last of her Chablis. "Well, I'd say we've exchanged enough stories to embarrass the children for at least three or four years, don't you think, Michelle?"

Michelle laughed. "I think so. Mark will never forgive me for telling about him painting his hair green for St. Patrick's Day, then not being able to get it out. He got his first buzz cut very early in life."

They all laughed again at the mental image of a very young Mark, with first green, then no hair.

John spoke up. "And Jenny's not fond of being reminded of the time she decided to style her hair and cut it nearly to the scalp on just one side. She and Mark would have had matching buzz cuts."

David chimed in. "Do all kids do that, or does it just seem like it?"

Dorine shook her head. "I don't know but everyone has at least one story like it. I think this day has been long enough. How about you?"

John tossed down the last of his drink. "Yep. I'm ready to call it a night. "You young folks stay here and chat. We'll see you in the morning."

Annie stood up. "Well, I'm right behind you." She nodded to David and Michelle. "You two 'young folks' can stay and talk about your children. I'm going to bed."

"But, Annie..." Michelle started.

"Hush, Michelle. I can find our room just fine. You won't wake me. Stay and finish your wine." Annie waved a hand and walked out of the lounge behind John and Dorine.

Michelle looked at David. "I think we were just deserted."

He laughed. "I think so. It's been a long time since I've been called one of the 'young folks.'"

Michelle nodded. "Your parents are just as charming as I remembered them."

David nodded. "And I like your sister, Annie. Mark speaks fondly of her."

Michelle nodded, sipping her wine. The silence between them loomed large. David drained his glass.

"I'm glad you came, Michelle. I was afraid you wouldn't."

"I almost didn't. Annie convinced me I had to, for my son's sake."

"I knew I liked your sister."

Michelle laughed. "I didn't want my presence to be awkward, to interrupt the wedding. or the day for the children."

"That's why I agreed with Suzanne not to tell her parents or mine about...us or about Suzanne and Jenny." David shook his head. "There's really no reason for them to know at this point."

Michelle inspected her glass for imagined imperfections, her insides churning with conflicting emotions. "I suppose you're right. It's just that not being completely honest with one another caused us so much trouble, that I hate to start keeping secrets again."

David nodded. "I know. I'm not thrilled with the idea myself. But, maybe we can tell them later. They didn't have to know today."

Michelle nodded, torn between the feelings trying to surface. David's presence was so comforting. Yet she couldn't shake the guilt over Joe's death, no matter how hard she tried.

"How's your writing going? Weren't you just starting a new book?" David watched her face, feeling all the old emotions well up inside. She still tugged at his heartstrings, as she had years before. The sadness in her eyes nearly broke his heart. If he could only make those eyes sparkle again.

"I'm working on it. But it's not going well." She looked away. "I'm having trouble concentrating. Nothing seems important to me any more."

David resisted the urge to take her hand. It was obviously way too soon. "Maybe you need to be close to the children. Having Mark and Jenny around might give you someone to think about."

Michelle shook her head. "No, my new place is the right place. You remember Chris Lake? "

He nodded.

"Annie found me a lovely place. I feel at home there. I just have to get myself under control. I guess the problem is I don't really have a reason to write. Joe had planned well. He left me well taken care of. And I've made enough from the last few books, I can live quite comfortably and never write another word."

"Then don't," said David. "Travel, do something else."

"I may after I finish this one. I was already under contract for this one, when Joe died. But Joe was always there before, to bounce ideas off of, or throw a plot twist to. He understood the business well enough that I trusted his judgment. I haven't put a book together completely alone in a long time."

David couldn't resist. He reached over and gently patted her hand. "You have excellent judgment, Michelle. You always have had. Trust yourself, it will be fine."

Michelle pulled her hand away. "My excellent judgment caused us all a tremendous amount of pain. It's going to take me a while to get over that."

David rubbed his hand across his face. What could he say to help her? "Well, I already have gotten over the pain it caused me, Michelle. I told you that before. The world needs more people like you in it."

Michelle stood up, and looked down into his eyes. "I'm glad you've forgiven me, David. Maybe, in time, I can forgive myself for what I did to Joe. Goodnight."

She turned and walked out of the hotel lounge. David watched her go. He held up his glass. "Waiter, another, please."

The waiter nodded. David set the glass down and cradled his head in his hands. It was going to take time, lots of time for Michelle to get over Joe's death. And this time, David promised himself, he would wait for her, for the right time, for as long as it took.

Chapter 11

Michelle rested her head against her seat back, eyes closed. Takeoffs always unnerved her, no matter how many times she flew. Annie settled in beside her, watching the ground roll by. The engines rumbled and the plane clawed its way into the bright Nevada sky.

Annie gave Michelle a nudge. "Now. Aren't you glad you came?"

Michelle blinked and glanced out of the window, watching the airport fall away. "Yes, Annie, dear. You may say 'I told you so.' I'm very glad we came."

Annie nodded. "Mark was, too. That's a strange situation he's marrying into."

Michelle turned away. "Like he said to me, if they can handle what happened, with us playing musical parents, they can handle anything."

Annie chewed her lip, considering Michelle's remark. "He's a tough kid. They'll be all right."

Michelle sighed, watching the puffy clouds fill up the window beside her. "I hope so, Annie. I hope I haven't ruined his life as well."

"Now stop that!" Annie elbowed Michelle across the seat arm. "I've had about enough of your moping, feeling sorry for yourself, and grabbing every bag of guilt being handed out."

Michelle turned to meet Annie's gaze, eyes flashing momentarily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said. If you're not careful, you're going to talk yourself right into a severe depression." Annie shook her head. "Look, Michelle, you can't grieve forever. Worse things could have happened to Mark. He could have lost Jenny, too. They're young. They can have more children."

Michelle sighed and leaned her head back. "I suppose. And I'm trying to get on with my life."

Annie leaned back as well. "I think I'd rather have you get angry and argue with me. At least then I'd feel like you had some of your old spirit back."

"I told David, after you left the other night, I just don't see much of a purpose in my life anymore. I really can't get interested in this latest book and I don't really care about it."

Annie patted her hand. "I know, Michelle. Building a new life is hard. I've got friends who've had to do it. But you can. You've got readers who love what you do. They're waiting for this book, you know that. If nothing else, you owe it to them and to yourself to at least kick yourself in the behind to give them a good read."

Michelle had to laugh. Annie's comments were always 'colorful.' Annie smiled at the sound. "That's better. You just keep that up. You'll get that book done in no time. Then you'll have a tour to do."

Michelle laughed again. "Slow down. If I let you go, you'll have the rest of the year planned, right through Christmas."

"If it makes you laugh and puts some color back in your cheeks, I'll be happy to plan your year."

Michelle laughed again and let her seat back recline as far as it would go. "Plan away, Annie. I'm going to catch some sleep. Before the ride gets bumpy."

Michelle closed her eyes. Annie studied her sister's face, watching the deep furrows in her brow ease and disappear as she relaxed. Something had to jog her out of the blue funk she was settling into. The slightest of smiles danced across her lips. "Michelle?"

Michelle never moved. "What?"

"What about David?"

Michelle turned her head and opened one eye. "What about him?"

"The two of you seemed to be getting along well."

Michelle opened her other eye, pressing her lips together tightly. "Of course we were. He's my son's father, remember? We've known one another a long time. We were good friends a long time ago."

Annie arched an eyebrow. This was the strongest reaction she'd had to anything she'd said yet.

"He still cares about you, Michelle. I could see that in his face."

Michelle nodded her head. "I know that."

Annie pressed the point. "How do you feel about him?"

Michelle inspected her fingernails, considering the question. She finally looked up. "I don't know, Annie."

One of Annie's famous skeptical glances zipped across the space between them "Of course, you know. You know what's going on in your head."

Michelle's patience snapped, conflicting feelings welling up inside. "I said, I don't know, Annie, all right?"

"Oh, that's how it is," said Annie, pleased with the reaction she'd caused. At least she'd reached a feeling besides sorrow. Anger would do for now.

Michelle took a deep breath. "Look, Annie. I'm having a really hard time with this, especially my feelings about David. I don't know if I can ever look at him, and not see Joe. Ever look at Mark and not think of the pain I caused Joe. I've got to work it out in my own mind. And I haven't done that yet. But, I'm trying to. I really am, okay?"

Annie patted her hand. "Okay, baby sister, okay. I won't bug you any more. I just hate to see you hurt so much. If I could fix it, I would."

Michelle sank back into her seat. "I know you would Annie. And I'd love to let you. But, you can't. I have to fix this myself."

Michelle closed her eyes. Images of the past, of David and Joe, darted through the shadows of her mind. The feelings she'd had for David, locked away in the dusty recesses of her heart, struggled to come into the light.

But the stark, final scenes in the hospital, with Joe, kept pushing them back. David's face appeared before her, smiling eyes sparkling, teasing her to laugh and live again. And this time the image stayed. She took one more deep breath and allowed the low rumble of the jet engines to lull her into some much needed sleep.

******

The icy late season wind howled outside, rattling the big patio door. The soft glow of the fireplace did little to warm the raging storm. Piercing, brilliant lightening crackled through the skies, rolling thunder shook the house.

Michelle snatched the sheaf of papers from the clunky printer and plopped down on the couch in front of the fire. Red pen in hand, she scrutinized every line, looking for any stray commas or spaces in the nearly finished manuscript.

Satisfied at last, she leaned back, snuggling deep into the comfy space. "Done!"

The manuscript was as good as she could get it at this point. David was right, since Joe wasn't here, she'd just have to go with her own best judgment.

"And my best judgment is, I'm finished with this," she said to the flames in front of her. Glancing at her watch, she picked up the phone. Jill would still be in the office. She never left until after six and it was only 5:30 on the coast. "Hello, Jill? Yes, it's me. I've got the book finished...yes, manuscript's all done."

Michelle listened to Jill's careful instructions. "All right. I'll put it in the mail, directly to Evan. Yes, I know, priority mail – insured. Will you call him and tell him it's coming?"

"Jill – a couple of other things – Those agent proposals you've been getting – why don't you send them to me? I need to pick another agent."

Michelle smiled at Jill's excited squeal. "I know, I know, you told me I should do this months ago. If you have any preferences or suggestions, tell me. You know them better than I do."

Michelle listened some more. "Jill – Jill – write it down. I'll never remember all that."

She finally interrupted Jill's stream of continuing advice. "And the final thing. They've been asking for a tour. If we can work in a short one between now and Christmas, set it up. I've been holed up in my nice cocoon too long. I need to get back out into the real book world."

Michelle held the phone away from her ear. Jill's happy laughter poured through the receiver. "If my readers are as excited as you are, things should go well. Thanks, Jill. Let me know when the itinerary is set."

Michelle hung up the phone and stared back into the fire. "Okay, lady. Time to move on. If you're on your own, you might as well get with the program."

She wandered over to the patio door, watching the waves crash against her beach. The dock lights twinkled on in the driving rain. The water slapped and battered the dock, but it stood strong against nature at its Midwestern worst.

She could see the dock bobbing and shifting in the storm. Maybe it's broken a mooring. Don't want to lose it. She grabbed her parka from the hook next to the door.

She inched the big door open, just enough to slip outside. She pulled her flashlight from the parka pocket. Its feeble beam cut a meager path through the gathering darkness. The wind buffeted her, forcing her to struggle sideways across the patio, through the slippery grass and finally down to the soggy, storm-drenched beach. The icy rain pelted her face and hands, chilling her to the bone.

Her light finally found the dock's mooring poles. They looked solid enough. She tried to shake each one, but the poles never moved. They were firmly anchored, deep into the solid earth. The dock rode unevenly, up and down the poles, bobbing and twisting with the storm, but it was safe. The connections between pole and dock were tight and strong. It would come through this weather fine.

It's just like me, she mused. Tough. We can get pretty beat up, but we bend, not break. We'll both survive this storm, just like we have all the others.

She looked out across the wind-tossed lake. Other lights twinkled, welcoming beacons in the darkness. She faced her own back deck. The glow from the downstairs doors begged her to come in, to come home.

The icy rain, beating on her upturned face, seemed to cleanse her soul of the pain, of the doubts and of the grief she'd held onto so tightly. Stinging pellets drummed onto her skin, stirring her blood, invigorating her senses. It was time. Time to start over. Time to get on with life.

Another horrendous bolt of lightening streaked across the sky. The thunder crashed over her head, bringing her back to the cold reality of the immediate danger. Being the tallest thing on the beach, she'd turned herself into a natural lightening rod. Pulling her parka in close, she lowered her head and made a dash for the welcoming light.

******

Michelle took a final peak in her compact mirror. That was as good as she was going to get. The bookstore manager fussed nervously in the background.

"I'm so glad you could come, Ms. Stevens," she said in a rush. "Our customers having been asking and asking for your books."

Michelle smiled. "That's good. Maybe we'll have a nice crowd today." Book signings could get long. This would be her first signing in more than a year.

"Oh, I don't think you'll have to worry, they're already starting to line up." The manager nodded toward her office door, to the waiting store beyond.

"Really? I don't even have a new book. Just the cover flyers for House of Betrayal. It won't be out until next spring."

"I know, but Small Lies just went paperback. Lots of people want it."

Michelle smiled again. Something else she'd lost track of. The new agent was obviously doing her job. "Well, good. We'll at least have that to sign."

"Oh, yes, and we've got several of your back listed books, so we should just sell lots!" The young manager clapped her hands together at the thought, then dropped them, embarrassed at her own exuberance.

Michelle nodded and watched sympathetically as the woman shuffled papers, not quite sure what to do next. Michelle decided to help her out. "Shall we go meet the people?"

The manager breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Any time you're ready, Ms. Stevens, any time."

They walked through the store to the display table set up just inside the entrance. Indeed, a long line had already formed at the table. A warm feeling of gratitude welled up inside Michelle. At least she could please these people. They liked what she did. And they were glad to see her. Even though they really didn't know her, they thought they did. It made them instant friends.

"Hello everyone," she called, waving to the line. "I'm so glad you're here. I'll get right to the books."

She grinned and sat down behind the table. A tiny gray haired lady held out a well-read copy of Small Lies plus a new copy of one of her other books. "Ms. Stevens, I've read and re-read Small Lies. Would you please sign this old copy, as well as the new one?"

Michelle nodded. "Of course, I'm glad you liked it. What's your name?"

The tiny lady beamed. "Millicent. Millicent Brown."

Michelle glanced down and began the first of many personal inscriptions that day. Four more weeks of this would go very quickly.

******

Michelle heaved a great sigh and pushed back from the kitchen table. She glanced around, shaking her head. A month's worth of mail sat, in assorted piles and stacks, all over the table, on the empty chairs and on the floor.

"I should have had it all forwarded to Jill." She stopped, chewing on her thumbnail. "No, I should fix this problem once and for all."

She glanced at her watch. Jill would be back from lunch. Reaching for the cordless phone at her side, she hit Jill's speed dial button. "Hello, Jill? I'm fine. Tour went well. I'm sorting through my mail here at home. Jill, I want you to do something for me. Put the house up for sale, and close the office. I'm not coming back to Anaheim.

Michelle held the phone away to let Jill calm down. "Yes, I'm serious. I want you to come out here. I need you as my secretary here, not half a country away."

Michelle laughed into the phone. "Jill, you'll love Nebraska. The air is clean and the people are friendly."

Jill's sputtering came through loud and clear. "Think it over, dear. I love it here, I think you would, too. But you heard me, put the house up for sale. I'm not ever coming back there."

Michelle clicked off the phone. "Well, there's one more bridge I've burned. No going back now."

Her gaze sought out the pile of envelopes she'd dubbed 'open immediately' and set them in front of her on the table. Flipping through them, she pulled out a fat one, from her new agent. Ripping it open she shook out the contents. A contract.

She scanned the contents of the accompanying letter and sucked in a sharp breath. The six figure amount, mentioned by the agent, sent her head spinning. This would be her biggest contract yet.

She stood up, taking the letter with her. Pacing the floor, she read and reread the letter. No doubt about it. They wanted another book, for this kind of money, without the slightest idea what it would be.

She raked a hand through her hair, remembering the good feelings and kind words generated by the tour she'd just finished. Her readers really did like her stuff. The memories warmed her heart. Yes, she did love to do this - and yes, she probably could write just one more book. She smiled. Joe had always said "Just one more, hon. Just one more."

She realized that she was thinking of him without crying, these days. His memories were becoming comforting rather than painful. The memories of their good times together were beginning to replace the awful ones of their last day. She had weathered the storm. Her healing had begun.

Chapter 12

Suzanne hummed a quiet tune while she put the final touches on the dining room table. Perfect. She turned the dimmer switch on the chandelier, casting a soft glow throughout the room Just right for our supper by candlelight.

Russell would be here soon. He'd said this would be a very important evening for them. She walked out into the hall and picked up the papers on the credenza. She re-read the documents, making her divorce final. She was a free woman, no strings tying her to the past.. "And if I'm not mistaken," she said aloud, "I'll be getting a marriage proposal this evening. Very good work, Ms. Suzanne. Very good work."

The doorbell rang. Suzanne looked up, frowning. Russell was usually prompt, but not this early. She walked to the door and peered through the security viewer.

"Who...?" She flipped on the intercom switch. "What can I do for you, Mr. Morrick."

"Open the door, for one thing. You don't want me shouting on your doorstep, do you?"

Suzanne gritted her teeth. "I suppose not." Reaching down, she flipped the lock, opened the door and allowed him to enter. He kicked the snow off his boots on the door stop and slipped out of his jacket, draping it over his arm.

"Like I said, what do you want?"

He walked into the hallway, glancing toward the back of the house. "Hey, ease up, Suzanne. I just got back from Thailand. I thought I'd check by and see how you were making out. See if you needed anything."

His leering grin irritated her beyond endurance. "I'm making out just fine," she snapped. "There's nothing you can do for me, at all."

"I thought you might be a little lonesome by now, what with Dave gone. You seem a little uptight. Sure I can't fix you a high ball or something?" He tried to put a sincere look on his face. "I've missed you, Suzanne."

"I doubt it. You said you had lots of other women who would be glad to see you, remember?"

"Yeah, well. Maybe I was a little brash. You really knocked me for a loop with that dad-thing."

"Well you needn't worry. We're doing just fine. " She gave him a long, hard look. "In fact, I'd say I'm doing better than you are, right now. What's wrong? Did you catch a nasty 'bug' in Thailand? Drink the wrong water?"

Jack shrugged. "I'm just tired. Nothing to do but work over there."

Suzanne laughed. "I can't imagine you working that hard. You must be slipping, Jack. Getting old. You should take better care of yourself."

Jack shrugged again. She could see his shoulders move inside his once-custom-fitted shirts. He had lost weight. She stepped back to the door. "I really don't have time to chat with you. I have company coming for dinner. I have things to do."

Jack looked around and saw the chandelier glowing. "Special company? Got someone new in your life?"

"It's none of your business, Mr. Morrick. I told you. You had your chance. Now, please leave."

"Okay, okay. But remember, if you ever need a little more...understanding...I still know how to make your favorite drink and how to really make you relax."

Suzanne couldn't stand any more. "Get out of here. And don't ever come back."

He slipped back into his heavy jacket. "I'm going, I'm going."

Suzanne slammed the oak door behind Jack. "Insufferable man. All he ever thinks about is sex. Well, he can just find someone else to keep him company. I'm going to be busy."

******

Russell dabbed at the corners of his mouth with the linen napkin. "This was just wonderful, Suzanne. I couldn't have asked for a better meal."

Suzanne lowered her gaze and allowed the compliment to curl around her. "Thank you, Russell. I do try to make mealtimes a pleasure."

Her reached over and took her hand. "You make every time a pleasure, Suzanne. Let's go into the living room."

She smiled her very sweetest smile. "What ever you want."

He nodded. Standing, he pulled her gently up and wrapped her hand around his arm. "Come with me."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad you liked the dinner."

He guided her to the settee. Once she settled herself, he sat down beside her. "I liked everything about this evening, Suzanne. No, I loved everything about this evening, including you."

Suzanne raised a simpering hand to her mouth. "Oh, Russell."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. "I'm afraid I'm past the age to go down on bended knee, Suzanne, so you'll just have to settle for me beside you."

He opened the box. "I want you to marry me, Suzanne."

"My! Russell. It's a beautiful ring." The two carat marquee-cut diamond twinkled in the lamp light. The baguettes surrounding it gave it an impressive look. "Are you sure, Russell? We really haven't been seeing one another very long?"

He pulled the ring from its protective slot. "Long enough, Suzanne. I've been alone since Elaine died. And you seem to be happy with me. We're not kids any longer."

Suzanne looked up into his eyes "What about your children? What will they think?"

He smiled. "One is in California and the other is in New York. They will say that if it makes me happy, fine. And Jenny is settled with her new husband, so you don't need to worry about her."

He reached for her hand. "Please say yes. Let me slip this on your finger."

Suzanne allowed herself to be convinced. "All right, Russell. I agree with your children, if it makes you happy, I'd love to become Mrs. Russell Abrams."

She smiled as he slipped the diamond on her ring finger. She held it out for his inspection. "I think it's lovely. What about you?"

He took her in his arms. "It's not nearly as lovely as the lady who's wearing it."

"Oh, Russell."

He kissed her deeply, holding her tight. She could feel the pulse quickening in his neck. She pulled back to see his face.

"I hope you don't think I've been too old-fashioned about... well, about..."

"Not at all, my dear." He released his bear hug and took a deep breath. "One can't be too careful these days. Actually it's been refreshing to find a woman who isn't in a huge hurry to jump into my bed and ask questions later."

Suzanne smiled. She'd been right about his conservative nature. "I suppose now..." She gave her ring hand a small flip. "Things have changed. If you really want to..."

"No, no. " He kissed her again. "I can wait. You're certainly worth waiting for, Suzanne. Our wedding night will be marvelous. I'll anticipate it even more, knowing how special it will be."

She kissed his cheek gently. "You are a dear. I'm so glad we found each other. But I won't keep you waiting long."

He smiled. "Good. Where would you like to be married?"

She considered the question. "What about right here, since this is the place you asked me? Just a small wedding, with a few friends from the club? And the children of course, if they can come?"

He looked around. "This would be fine, Suzanne. Perhaps around Christmas. Maybe the children could all come home for Christmas and the wedding as well."

Suzanne smiled. This room would be beautiful, decked out for the holidays. "Perfect, Russell, perfect. But I'll have to get busy. That's less than a month away."

He nodded. "Good, I'm not sure I could wait much longer than that."

Suzanne kissed him gently. "I wouldn't make you wait forever. I promise. We'll have a wedding in no time."

******

David snapped the locks on his briefcase. One more stop at the Dean's office and he was finished teaching – for good. His new assignment had been approved. The end of the semester had come at exactly the right time to allow him to transfer without interrupting any of the students' studies. Maybe things would begin to go his way, finally.

He walked along the hall, staring out at the snow covered Academy grounds. This place had been his second home for so long, leaving it would seem strange. But it was time – time to do something new with his life. And his new life wouldn't be here.

******

The doorbell jangled in Michelle's brain. "I'm coming, I'm coming."

She dashed up the stairs to the front door. I need a camera set-up so I can see who's here.

"Yes, what...David!"

He laughed at the surprised look on her face. "Yes, David! Could you stand some company this snowy Nebraska night?"

"Good heavens, yes. Come in." She stood back to let him in. "Here let me take that parka. Kick the snow off right there." She motioned to the heavy straw mat just inside the door. She hung the dripping coat on the hall tree. "Come over by the fireplace, you must be frozen. What are you doing here?"

He walked to the fireplace. Its warm glow drew him nearer. Standing in front of it, he could look out the patio doors to his left. The winter moon glistened in the cold night sky. Its reflection danced in the slivery lake ice, not quite solid enough for skating.

"David, you haven't answered me. What are you doing here?"

He gazed into her eyes, those turquoise pools he'd loved for so long. "I live here now, just like you do."

"Here? At Chris Lake? You can't mean that?"

He laughed. "Well, no, not at Chris Lake, but, yes, here in Bellevue. I live by the base. Not far from where we used to live. They've put apartments in down there."

But, what are you doing in Bellevue?"

"I got transferred to StratCom Headquarters. I decided that I'd taught at the Academy long enough. A position came up and here I am. I'm on leave right now. I don't report until next week. I've been moving and finding a place to live for the last couple of weeks."

"Goodness, I never dreamed you'd be here, again."

He turned to face her. "This is my last assignment. I'll retire from here. I've come here to be closer to you."

"But..."

He stopped her protest before it got started. "Michelle. I'm not going to let you hide and beat yourself up forever. What happened was not all your fault. I was there and I made choices, too. Some of them not very good ones. Joe made choices, as well. I'm not going to let you take the blame for everything."

Michelle looked up into his eyes. The strangle hold guilt had around her heart loosened considerably. His mere presence brought a warmth to the room that no one else could. "I'm sure you're right, David. I'm just not ready to let anyone into my life yet. I don't think I could stand another loss."

He smiled at her. "I understand that. But I don't think you'll feel that way forever. And I'm going to be right here when you change your mind. I'm going to be the next man in your life."

Michelle laughed. "You always have been able to make me laugh and to cheer me up. Sit down. I'm glad you're here. We have some catching up to do."

They sat on the overstuffed couch in front of the fireplace, sharing notes and stories of the children's progress at Nellis.

"According to Jenny," said David, "Suzanne wants them to come back to the Springs for Christmas. Evidently she's getting remarried during the holidays."

"Oh really?"

He nodded. "To that doctor that was at the wedding. She didn't waste any time."

Michelle leaned back, massaging the back of her neck. "Well, I hope she's happy."

David looked at her. "Actually, I hope so too. It will be easier on everyone, including the children, if she finds someone to be happy with. I guess the wedding's going to be at the house. She'll have it decorated to the nines." His gaze took in the Spartan room. "And speaking of decorations, why don't you have a tree up? The holiday's almost here."

Michelle shook her head. "It just seemed to be too much trouble. No sense putting up a tree just for me."

"Of course there is." He scratched his chin. "Tell you what. I'm taking you out to the tree farm tomorrow. You need a tree right here in front of your patio door, one that you can see from across the lake, just like all your neighbors have. You have to keep up with the neighbors, remember?"

She laughed again. "I suppose. Do you really want to go tramping out in all that snow?

He resisted the urge to put his arms around her. It was enough, for now, to sit next to her. "Yes, I do. We need to bring the spirit of the holiday in here."

******

The bright winter sun blazed in the sky, lighting up the day, but giving no warmth. The chilly winds took the temperature below freezing. Michelle clapped her gloved hands together. "Oh yes, that one. That little spruce, right there."

David gripped the center pole of the little tree, giving it a good shake. The needles stayed put. "And it's live. See the burlap around the roots? We can have it planted next to the house after the holidays."

Michelle smiled at his unconscious use of the plural "we." "Plant it? In the middle of the winter?"

David nodded. "The man says they'll come out and open the ground for you, after the first of the year."

"That would be wonderful."

David turned to the tree farm owner. "Please deliver it to this address, in one of those lined, oaken tubs, so we can put it in the house for the season."

The man nodded, taking David's credit card.

"Here, let me get that, it's my tree." Michelle struggled with her purse.

"Never mind, it's already done." David smiled at her. "We'll figure it out later."

"David, I can take care of myself. You don't have to spend your hard-earned money on me."

He took her hand, guiding her out of the rows and rows of snow covered trees. "I know you can take care of yourself. And I know I don't have to spend my money on you. What if I just want to?"

She smiled and leaned her head against his arm. "I suppose I can let you...if you're sure you want to."

He gripped her hand tightly. "I'm sure I want to, Michelle. I'm sure."

They walked to the car. "Well, do you have decorations or do we need to go shopping?"

Michelle giggled. "Since you're playing Santa Claus, we need to go shopping. There's not a decoration in the house. And I'm sure Annie has every decoration she owns on the huge tree at her house."

"Shopping it is, then. Let's go." They sped away in search of the finest decorations available for the perfect little tree.

******

David hung the last piece of tinsel, draping it carefully over the heavily laden bough. "Well, what do you think?"

"I think you're an A-one tinsel hanger, that's what I think! Flip the lights on. Let's see what it looks like."

The tree fairly glowed, once David threw the switch. Tiny lights twinkled from every branch. It bounced and skipped from tinsel to ornament, illuminating every corner of the living room. A golden-haired angel perched atop the shaggy blue-green tree. Her golden glow warmed Michelle's heart.

"David, let's go outside. Let's see what it looks like from the beach."

"Sure, I'll grab the coats."

"Oh, come on. We'll just run out and back. You're tough." She grabbed his hand and headed for the patio door. "Let's go."

Once outside, they dashed across the snow covered deck, down the stairs and out through the powdery drifts to the beach. Michelle turned back and stared at the house, transfixed in the moonlight. "Oh David, it's beautiful."

He stepped quietly to her side. "Yes, it is. It's the prettiest tree on the lake, look around."

She scanned the shore line, seeing the twinkling lights surrounding them. "I think you're right. It is the prettiest."

He reached out and drew her to him. "And you're the prettiest woman I can see."

This time, she didn't draw back. Instead, she ran her hands slowly up his arms. "Do you still think so, David?"

"Yes, I still think so." He pulled her close, inclining his head, gently searching for her mouth. She moved slightly, allowing the kiss.

"Mmmm." A low rumble escaped his throat. Her heart started beating triple time. She returned his kiss, allowing her own emotions to surface for the first time. The long buried love in her heart broke through the guilt and grief holding it hostage. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him, not wanting him to stop.

He pulled her even tighter to him, finally stopping to take a breath. "I've wanted to do that for so long."

The fire of old burned through her veins. She had to admit she loved this man. She smiled up at him. "Well, I'd say it was worth the wait."

He nodded. "How about another?"

Michelle shivered within the circle of his arms. "Actually, I think we better go back inside. We're standing in six inches of snow and my feet are freezing, even if you did just warm up the rest of me."

David looked down. Both of them were standing in a huge snow drift. "Yes, let's go back where it's warm. Come on."

Together they ran, hopped, and struggled back through the snow to the welcoming warmth of her living room.

******

Suzanne stood, surveying the living room, mentally checking off everything as she scanned. The white, flocked tree by the fireplace, set off with burgundy bows and gold ornaments, was breathtaking. She nodded, satisfied with the effect. The burgundy and gold theme would be carried into the wedding. The velvet dress she'd found would look marvelous against this background. Yes, this was going to be a wonderful wedding, even if she did say so herself. Russell would be pleased and they'd be the talk of the club. The doorbell intruded. Suzanne frowned. Nothing more was to be delivered today. She walked quickly to the door and peered through the security port.

She yanked open the door. "I thought I told you never..."

Jack pushed past her into the house. "Sorry to interrupt, Suzanne, but we need to talk."

He continued straight back to the den, to behind the bar. Suzanne stomped in behind him. "Jack, what do you think you're doing – and what's wrong? You look awful."

"I'm fixing me a drink. And one for you, too. Sit down, you're going to need it."

"I most certainly will not drink with you. I have..."

"Sit down, Suzanne. This won't take long."

She dropped into the leather chair beside him "Fine."

He handed her a highball. "I'm here because I have to tell you something."

He shook his head, took a long drink and started again. "I'm sick, Suzanne. Very sick."

She sneered. "And I suppose you think I ought to drop everything and take care of you. Fat chance, Jack."

He stared, first at his drink, then at her. Suzanne shivered in the chill of his relentless gaze. Finally he shrugged. "No, Suzanne that's not what I think. I'm here telling you I'm sick because the hospital would have, if I hadn't come. I thought you might want to here it from me."

Suzanne's eyes widened. She looked closely at Jack. His clothes hung on him, now. And she'd never noticed the blotchy bruises before. She said slowly, "Why would the hospital have to call?"

He looked at her a long time, then took another big drink. He ran a shaky hand across his mouth. "Because I tested HIV positive, Suzanne. I have AIDS."

Suzanne threw her hands over her mouth, sucking in a gasp. "Oh, no!"

He nodded.

"But what does that have to do with me? Russell and I just had our blood tests. I'm fine."

Jack looked at her. "Well, good, for the time being. But we don't know how long I've had it, Suzanne. I was clear my last physical, before I went to Thailand, but that doesn't mean a whole lot. It hasn't been a year yet. I could have exposed you and you just haven't developed it yet. You're not out of the woods. You'll have go in and be tested again, and tell all your partners, as well."

"NO! I'm not about to do that." Suzanne stood up, ashen. "I haven't jumped from pillar to post like you have."

"Come on, Suzanne, I know there were others besides me. You have to tell them, too. And you sure have to tell David."

Suzanne's jaw set as though in concrete. "Thank you, Mr. Morrick. You've delivered your message. I'll discuss what I need to do with my doctor, not you."

"Suzanne, you don't understand..."

She held up her hand. "Oh, I understand. I understand that here you are, about to ruin my life for a second time. No, Jack, you're not going to do it. Get out of my house, right now."

Jack's shoulders sagged. "Fine. I'll leave. But, the base hospital has your number. If you don't call in soon, they'll call you."

"Get out!"

Jack set down his glass and walked to the door of the den. "I am sorry, Suzanne. I didn't mean to do this to you."

She turned, waving him away. She listened to his footsteps down the hall, and heard the front door click shut. She dropped into the big leather chair again. Her gut tightened and she cupped her hand over her mouth, refusing to give in to the urge to vomit. She sat very still until the nausea subsided. What am I going to do now? She'd seen the pictures on TV of AIDS sufferers. But not her, she couldn't put herself in those pictures. Gritting her teeth, she said to herself, "He's not going to ruin my wedding."

******

Dr. Sorenis stepped into the club lounge. The waiter was at his elbow with his favorite drink before he'd taken three steps.

"John! John! Join us!"

Sorenis turned his head to see a hand waving him to the other side of the room. Several colleagues from City Hospital were already there. He nodded, taking the offered glass, trading the waiter his coat.

"You've started early. What's the occasion?"

"Surely you've heard. Russell's getting married!"

"Married? When?"

Abrams laughed. "within the week, John. You have been working too hard."

Another voice chimed in. "Yes. It's the talk of the hospital."

Sorenis took a sip of the Manhattan. "Who's the lucky lady?"

Abrams beamed with pride. "Her name is Carlson, Suzanne Carlson."

Sorenis nearly dropped his glass. "I know her, don't I?"

"I should think so. You saved her daughter's life last spring, as I understand."

Sorenis nodded. The images of Suzanne were all too clear in his memory. "Car accident."

Abrams smiled. "That's the one."

Sorenis tried to keep a non-committal look on his face. "How long have you known her, Russ?"

"Since last June. She's a charming woman, John. Why do you ask?"

"I remember the family from the accident." Sorenis raised his glass. "Here's to your happiness, Russ."

They all joined in the toast. The men shared drinks and conversation for a while longer, then drifted away, one by one, until only Sorenis and Abrams were left.

"You didn't answer my question earlier, John. You certainly didn't look too happy at Suzanne's name. Why did you want to know how long I'd known her?"

"Russ, I only met her that night and I don't want to say anything against her. The emergency ward is not a place to judge people, you know that."

Abrams nodded. He'd spent his fair share of time in emergency wards. But John was a pretty good judge of people. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid she and I had words. She didn't give me information about her daughter's condition that could have been critical. Didn't think I needed to know."

"Oh?"

"She let me take x-rays, without warning me the girl was pregnant."

Abrams leaned back, confusion puckering his brow. "But her daughter doesn't have a baby."

"No, she lost it because of the accident. It may have been just as well. We'd taken more than half a dozen x-rays, all of her shoulder and neck but, still...I wasn't pleased. Her father and fiancé told us about the baby, after she started to miscarry."

Abrams rubbed his hand across his neck. "Why wouldn't she have told you?"

Sorenis shook his head, trying to put the best light on his tale. "Maybe she just panicked and didn't think. She didn't even want to let me test her blood, when her daughter needed a transfusion."

Abrams stared. "That is odd. Most mothers would have been right there."

Sorenis nodded. "I know. It was a strange evening. She was having a bad time that night. I was trying to deal with her and her husband, when her daughter was hurt."

Abrams set his drink on the coffee table. "I'm sure she was having a very bad time. From what she said, her husband chose that night to tell her he was leaving her. Pretty thoughtless, what with the daughter so badly injured, and losing a baby to boot."

Sorenis took a deep breath. "Well, as I recall, that was the night he found out the girl wasn't really his. They were fighting in the hall. We could hear them all over ER."

"You mean the Colonel is not Jennifer's father?" Abrams knitted his brow in a deep, deep frown. "I don't believe it."

"I'm sorry, Russ. I probably shouldn't have said anything. But we've been friends for a long time. Take a look at Jennifer's records. You'll find that if you marry Suzanne Carlson, you'll be Jennifer's second step-father. Not that it makes any difference at this point."

Sorenis shook his head at the stricken look on his friend's face. "Just forget what I said. The Carlson's problems happened a long time ago, Russ. Who knows what troubles they had. It's in the past and evidently they've divorced since Jennifer was hurt. The two of you may be very happy."

Abrams straightened his tie. "Thank you, John. I'll think about what you've said. Suzanne has made me a very happy man these last few months. I'm not ready to throw that away just yet."

Sorenis nodded. "And you shouldn't. You're right John. I'm sorry I brought it up. I hope you'll be very happy." He glanced at his watch. "Look at the time. I have to get home."

Sorenis headed toward the door. Abrams finished his drink and set the glass down. "Waiter, a cup of coffee, please?"

He sat drumming his fingers on the table beside his chair, Sorenis' comments bouncing around in his mind.

******

Abrams sat in his office staring at his computer. Why would she lie to me about their separation? Why wouldn't she tell me about Jennifer?

Tapping his keyboard, he brought up the hospital patient records system on his computer. In a matter of minutes, Jennifer Carlson's records appeared before him on the screen. It didn't take much to see the non-matching blood types and the notes concerning the confrontation. The nurse's notes were very thorough. So, Suzanne had an affair, many years ago. That fact didn't please him – but – he supposed he could overlook it. She would have been young and impressionable, after all. One could make a mistake in one's youth.

He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve the pressure building He shook his head. If he tried hard enough, he probably could excuse lying, or rather, bending the truth to keep from exposing the earlier mistake to a new suitor.

They could start fresh. This was old news. She deserved the benefit of the doubt. He slipped his glasses back in place. Clearing the screen, Abrams moved on to his work for the morning. The new hospital HIV listings were in. He'd have his assistant run the list against his patient load, just to make sure. He pushed "PRINT" and idly scanned the list on the screen, listening to the printer ka-chunk through its routine.

"Wha...?"

His gaze riveted on a new listing, a notice from the cooperative agreement the hospital had with the Peterson Airbase Hospital:

HIV Carrier: Jackson B. Morrick

Known Partners: Marianne Barnette, Suzanne Carlson, Mai Sung Lo.

Abrams snatch the paper from the printer, reading and re-reading the names. This has to be Suzanne.

His jaw set and his fingers clenched around the paper, crushing it into a tiny ball. "This isn't a twenty-year old affair."

He threw the offending paper into the wastepaper basket. What else has she lied about?

Hands shaking in anger, he dialed the Peterson number. He had to verify that entry.

******

Suzanne stood in front of the fireplace. "Well Russell, what do you think?"

"It's lovely, Suzanne. You've created a beautiful illusion." He looked around, carefully avoiding her gaze.

Suzanne stared. She could tell by the tension in his neck that something wasn't right. "Illusion? That's an odd word Russell. Is something wrong? Would you rather have something else?"

"Illusions occur when one does not see things as they are, but as they want them to be."

A cold, hard, knot formed deep in Suzanne's stomach. "Whatever are you talking about, Russell? This room is very real. And so are we – you and I."

Abrams stood up. "Are we? Or more to the point – are you Suzanne? Are you really the lovely genteel lady I see, or are you an illusion, a carefully crafted illusion?"

Suzanne tossed her head. "Russell, you'll have to stop talking in riddles. What has upset you so?"

Abrams caught her gaze. "Are you sure you have nothing to share with me? Nothing you want to add to the picture I have of you?"

Suzanne shifted uncomfortably, biting her lip to keep from snapping back at him. "Will you just tell me what's wrong? I'm not good at guessing games."

Abrams straightened his tie. "Very well. I was shocked to learn that I did not meet Jennifer's father at the wedding."

"Who told you that?" The words snapped out.

"It doesn't matter. It's true, isn't it?"

Suzanne fought for control. "Yes, it's true. David was not Jennifer's father. But, what does that have to do with us now? That was twenty years ago."

"You didn't tell him the truth, did you? He found that out the night Jennifer was hurt."

"How..."

"I work at City Hospital, Suzanne. I have old friends there. When I announced I was marrying you, tongues began to wag. People were concerned about my welfare. People remembered the scene between the two of you at the hospital. It's all in the records."

"I didn't know having an affair was a criminal offense."

"It's not these days. As a matter of fact, I was not overly concerned that you had an affair. I'm disappointed that you felt it necessary to lie about the reason the Colonel left you."

Suzanne dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry, Russell. I was frightened – of what you might think."

He nodded. "Frightened – You didn't trust me to love you enough not to care about your past?"

Suzanne nodded, carefully measuring her response. "I didn't want to lose you."

"So you were looking for security?"

"I suppose."

"And you still are, aren't you?"

"What?"

"You're not going to tell me, are you?

"Tell you what?"

"The reason your name is on the latest HIV notice that all the city hospitals share."

"What! How dare they?"

"Suzanne! It's not like the measles. And you weren't going to tell me." Abrams glared at her, waiting for her reaction.

Suzanne bit her bottom lip. Fear gnawed at the pit of her stomach. "Our blood test were clear. I saw no reason to bother you with it."

Abrams shook his head. "You have a bad habit of leaving out essential portions of the truth, Suzanne. You didn't tell the doctors about Jenny being pregnant. You lied about why your husband left. And you were not going to tell me about your exposure to HIV. This isn't a twenty-year-old thing, Suzanne. You were still cheating on your husband, weren't you?"

He watched the color rise in her neck. "And he found out, some how. That's why he left, isn't it?"

Suzanne covered her mouth, nodding, pressing her fingers tightly against her lips, not finding the words to answer his piercing question.

He shook his head. "Suzanne, you don't trust me. You haven't been truthful with me. How can I possibly trust you? What else don't I know about you? What else is going to pop up? How can we have a relationship that's built on deceit and lies?"

"Russell, please, let me explain."

He crossed his arms across his chest. "Please do, Suzanne. Please explain who Mr. Morrick is and how he figures in you life."

Suzanne's eyes filled with tears. She dropped her hands to her sides and lifted her head. "Jack Morrick is Jennifer's father."

Abrams arms dropped. He stared, unbelieving, at her. "Her father? You were still seeing him?"

Suzanne opened her mouth, then closed it, tears spilling over. She shook her head and whispered, "You wouldn't understand."

He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. The pounding in his temples was deafening. "You're right. I probably wouldn't."

Carefully tucking his glasses in his shirt pocket, he turned to leave. "I'll have my secretary call the guests. There's not going to be any wedding, not now." He walked to the door, then turned for one last glance into the room. "You can keep the ring. That's not an illusion. Maybe it will remind you of what the truth is worth."

Suzanne dropped onto the settee, listening to his footsteps down the hall to the front door. She twisted the sparkling diamond around and around her finger, staring into the glowing flames. She whispered to herself, "He'll be back, he has to come back."

Chapter 13

David clicked open his laptop. He just had time to check his e-mail before he went back to work. Coming home for lunch was a small pleasure, even if he wasn't a gourmet cook. He scanned the list, smiling to see a couple from Jenny and Mark. He frowned, seeing his next message. He hadn't had a message from Jack since Jack had gone to Thailand.

His hands started to shake as he read the cold, expressionless words on his screen:

Dave, Sorry to tell you this, but I've got AIDS. Had to list Suzanne as one of my contacts. Told her she needed to tell you and anybody else she's been with. Didn't sound to me like she planned to tell you or even go in for a checkup. Just thought you ought to know. Take care, buddy. Jack

David stared at the screen, reading the message over and over. How long ago had it been? When was the last time he and Suzanne had sex? Could he possibly be infected or exposed? Frantically he searched the web, for information on HIV and AIDS – for anything to tell him what he wanted to know.

Finally, an AIDS information web site appeared. He breathed a sigh of relief when he read the exposure times. They'd been in separate beds and separate lives long enough. And his last physical had been fine.

But then, David's stomach tied into a cold hard knot. The hospital. Had he touched anything with her blood on it, when they did the blood typing? Did she expose everyone who worked with her blood? What about Mark and Jenny?

David paced the floor in front of his desk. Stopping, he picked up the receiver and made a quick call to his office. "I won't be in right at one. Something's come up. I have to take care of it immediately." Hanging up the phone, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

******

"David! What a nice surprise. I'm not used to midday visits." Michelle's voice sparkled. He always brought the sunshine into her heart.

David hung up his coat and walked into the living room behind her. "I wish it were a nice surprise."

He turned to face her. She could see the concern and worry lining his brow. "Whatever is wrong? Michelle's eyes opened wide. "Did something happen to one of the kids?"

David quickly wrapped his arms around her. "No, they're fine, but..." he leaned his head down on hers. "I just got an e-mail message from Jack." He hesitated, then plunged ahead. "He's been diagnosed with AIDS. He named Suzanne as one of his recent contacts. That means Suzanne could be infected as well."

"Oh David!" Michelle wrapped her arms around his midsection, holding him tight. "How awful. She'd been seeing him recently?"

David nodded. "That's one of the reasons I left her, Michelle. I caught them together the night Jenny was hurt. It's been less than a year. I don't know how many times she'd been with him in the year before the accident."

The full meaning of David's words hit home. Her gut wrenched into a ball of fear. "What about you? Were you exposed, too?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. She and I hadn't had sex for several years. My physical in August was fine. If Jack's last physical was clear, before he went to Thailand, I should be all right, but..."

"But what?"

"The night Jenny was hurt. I don't know what if anything they did with Suzanne's blood besides test it for blood type. They were back and forth between Mark and I and Suzanne and Jenny. She might have exposed the kids, the people who worked with it, and me. I just don't remember."

Michelle shivered, trying to reconstruct that awful night in her mind. "I'm no help. I don't remember anything that happened about Jenny. I was in the other room the whole time."

"I know. Jack's note said that he didn't think Suzanne was even going to go in for a test. She certainly hasn't contacted me."

"Oh David she has to be tested. She needs to let the hospital know. If she won't, you have to."

David nodded. "That's what I think. But I wanted to talk to you first. Like you said, no more secrets."

She nodded tears rimming her eyes. She couldn't bear the thought of David being taken from her. It crashed in on her that she wanted David in her life, now more than anything. "We'll get through this. We've weathered bigger storms."

"I'm glad you feel that way." He kissed away the tears. "I don't want to lose you, Michelle. I couldn't stand to lose you again."

"You're not going to lose me." Michelle entwined her arms around his neck and pulled him close for a kiss. "You're going to be stuck with me, no matter what."

He pulled back, still holding her tight. "I suppose I shouldn't even kiss you, until I know for sure that I'm not exposed."

"Oh, no you don't. You've already kissed me. I'm already exposed, so don't even think about it." She kissed him again, full and hard, running her tongue between his lips, forcing hers into his mouth, teasing as she had long ago.

"Umm," he mumbled, pressing her tight against him. "Don't do that, I'm may not be able to resist your advances."

That low, suggestive laugh rumbled in her throat. "You never could resist my advances, could you?" She kissed him again, pressing against him, grinding her hips until she could feel him swelling, responding to her moves.

"Oh, Michelle. But..."

"Shh." She grinned. "I don't have a white bearskin. Shall we not try the floor? Bedroom's down the hall."

He grinned back. "And I probably can't carry you any more either."

"That's fine, it's just a quick walk."

He looked deep into her eyes. "Are you sure about this? I don't know that I'm clear."

Michelle's smile radiated, lighting up the room. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life. Come on, Adonis. Don't keep me waiting." She gave him a gentle shove forward.

He groaned, kissing her again. "Okay, okay. Let's go, lady, just a waltz to the bedroom."

******

They lay next to one another, tucked into Michelle's king sized bed. David brushed back a stray curl from Michelle's forehead. He slid a kiss along her cheekbone, then looked into her eyes. "I didn't intend for us to do this today."

She smiled. "I know that. But thinking that I might lose you made me realize just how much I do love you, and want you, right here, with me."

She snuggled next to him, laying her head on his bare chest. He caressed her cheek tenderly. "You know we can't just ignore this."

She lifted her head. "Why not?"

"We have to at least check with the hospital. To make sure that no one was exposed to Suzanne's blood."

Michelle shook her head. "Didn't Jack tell the hospital?"

"Yes, but they may not make the connection between Suzanne and Jennifer and that night."

Michelle nodded. "And after you check with the hospital, the children have to know."

David ran his hand along Michelle's satiny back. "I really don't want to go back there."

She ran her fingertips down his chest. "I'd hate to see you go. Couldn't you just call the hospital?"

He kissed her again. "I probably could. I'll call the doctor – the one who took such good care of Jenny. He'd know if we have anything to worry about."

Michelle relaxed, laying her head back on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Good. I don't want you to go away, even for a little while."

He laughed. "I promise, I'm going to stay close. You can starting planning our wedding. You're not going to put me off any longer. Not after this."

She sat up, drawing the sheets up around her. "I don't want to put you off any longer," she laughed. "Not after this."

He sat up beside her. "But, I do have to go back to work sometime this afternoon. They can't cover for me forever."

Michelle laughed. He kissed her again and slipped out of bed. She watched him dress, amazed at how quickly and completely love had filled her heart. And she did love him, with every fiber of her being. He caught her staring at him.

"Am I doing something strange?"

She laughed. "No you're doing something very ordinary. I'm just enjoying watching you put your clothes on."

The smoldering look in her eyes set David's heart afire. That coil of heat rammed through him, insisting he notice the wonderful woman in the bed, with nothing but a sheet around her.

He gave his tie a yank, then slipped it back over his head.

Michelle giggled, eyes wide. "What's up? Change your mind?"

A low sound rumbled deep in his throat. "You know very well what's up!" He pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. "How can I go anywhere with you looking at me like that?"

Michelle's cat-like purr echoed through-out the room. "I hope you can't go anywhere, except right back here with me."

In a heartbeat, all his clothes again lay in a heap on the floor. He snatched the sheet away and took her in his arms. "They'll just have to do without me a while longer. I need some more of you."

He covered her mouth with a torrid kiss, one that set them both aflame, with the promise of all the love they had denied so long.

She pressed against him, matching his passion with her own. "We'll just have to stay right here, maybe all weekend. Only this one won't be forbidden."

******

They lay together, matching breath for breath. Michelle raised her head, gazing into those azure pools, seeing his love shining from them. "Happy?"

He nodded. "I didn't think I could ever be this happy." He kissed her tenderly. "You realize what we've done?"

Michelle smiled. "I hope we've made it impossible for either one of us to ever love anyone else. That's what I think we've done."

He nodded again. "Yep. No matter what comes of Suzanne's predicament. We're going to be together, from now on."

Michelle snuggled into the crook of his arm. "I like the sound of that, a lot."

He curled a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to gaze into her eyes. "We really do need to get some other things done this afternoon."

She gave him an appraising stare. "Like what?"

"Like the call the hospital. We ought to clear this thing up; so we know whether or not we need to worry about the HIV exposure."

Michelle scrunched up her nose, then nodded. "I suppose you're right. The sooner we get that taken care of the better."

She sat up, reluctant to leave the warm nest they had created in her bed. "You don't have to go anywhere to do that, though. I have a speaker phone downstairs. We could call from there."

David nodded, swinging up and out of bed. He looked down at the pile of clothing on the floor. "I probably shouldn't go back to the office anyway. Those things look like they've been slept in."

Michelle laughed. "Well, you could truthfully say they hadn't been. And I'd be there to agree. You didn't have any of them on!"

David's laughter filled the room. "Come on, get dressed. Let's go make that phone call."

******

David rifled through his brief case. Finally, he found a paper, one with City Hospital's logo and number on it. "It's a good thing I throw everything in here."

Michelle looked at the pile of stuff on the coffee table. "Don't you ever throw anything away?"

"Only when I can't get it closed. You never know when you might need something, like now." He shook the paper in the air.

Michelle laughed. "Go ahead make the call. But I doubt you'll get the doctor."

"We'll see. Sorenis made his rounds in the afternoon. He may be in the hospital." David dialed and waited for an answer. "Yes, operator. This is Colonel David Carlson. I have an emergency situation I'm dealing with. Is Dr. Sorenis in the hospital?"

Michelle stared, open mouthed at the commanding tone in David's voice. It seemed to be working.

"You'll page him? Thank you. I'll hold on the line." David grinned at Michelle. "You taught me to do that, you know," he whispered, pushing the speaker phone button.

"Me?" Michelle shook her head. "When did I ever do that?"

He grinned. "The day you called Jill – to stay with me. Take charge and sound like you know what you're doing. Works every time."

Michelle shook her head. How could she argue with that?

A voice came over the phone. "Sorenis here."

"Doctor, this is Colonel David Carlson. Thank you for taking my call."

The disembodied voice floated between them. "You said it was an emergency."

"I think so, yes. You remember last spring, when you took care of my daughter, Jennifer Carlson, in the emergency ward?"

"Yes, I remember. Is she not doing well?"

"It's not her. I'm very concerned that you and your entire staff may have been exposed to the HIV virus that night."

A long silence hung in the air. "How, Colonel?"

David cleared his throat. "I've just been informed that my ex-wife, Suzanne – Jennifer's mother – has been exposed to HIV. And you drew her blood that night, to type it for a possible transfusion for Jenny, remember?"

The doctor's gasp was audible. "I'd forgotten about that."

David nodded to Michelle. "I was afraid the staff might not make that connection. Thankfully hers didn't match. You used Mark's blood. But I'm concerned about the people who handled the test sample that night."

"Thank you, Colonel. I'll go back in the records and see who was on duty. We're pretty particular about handling samples these days, for just that reason, but I'll check just to make sure."

David hesitated. "Is there any danger to Jenny or her husband, Mark? They were both there that night as well."

Another long silence filled the phone line. "I don't believe so. I don't remember her ever being in the same room with them. But if they're going to be around her from now on, they still need to be careful."

David and Michelle shared a look. "I'll see that they know, Doctor."

"Good. And what about you, Colonel? You said Suzanne is now your ex-wife?"

"I think I'm fine, Doctor, if I wasn't exposed that night. My last military physical was in August, after Jenny's accident. And it's clear. Suzanne and I hadn't been intimate for a long time."

They could hear Sorenis clearing his throat. "Well, given this development, it's just as well. But, you will want to keep track."

"The Air Force does a screening every year. I'm sure I'll know, if anything develops."

Another long pause. "And be sure to warn any future partners you may have. Depending upon how long ago your ex-wife was exposed, you may still not be safe."

David looked at Michelle. She reached out and took his hand. Smiling, he said, "I already have, Doctor."

"Yes, well," Sorenis stuttered, then continued, "I'll take care of informing the hospital staff."

David took a deep breath. "Oh, Dr. Sorenis. There is one more person who ought to know."

"Oh?"

"Dr. Abrams. He works there at City Hospital. I understand from my daughter that he and Suzanne are planning to be married. I would guess she hasn't told him. She didn't tell me. He deserves to know what he's getting into."

An even longer pause held them both. Finally the voice said. "I don't think we have to worry, Colonel. Dr. Abrams gets the same listings I do. I had already seen the listing about Suzanne. I just hadn't put it together with taking her blood last spring."

"Well, if you think so."

"I think so – because – Russ told me yesterday the wedding was off. No discussion, just off. I would guess, the circumstances surrounding her exposure were more than he wanted to be involved with."

David nodded, looking at Michelle. She shook her head. He continued. "Well, thank you again , doctor. We'll see to it that the children know about Suzanne's exposure, so they don't unknowingly expose themselves. I doubt that she'll ever willingly tell anyone."

"I'll submit her name for our Community Help program. We have a very active group here in the Springs. Maybe they can help her deal with it, and find out for sure who else she may have exposed."

David shook his head. "I wish you luck, doctor. Goodbye."

Goodbye, Colonel. Thank you, again." The receiver went dead.

David clicked off the speaker phone button. "Well that's done." He leaned over and gave Michelle a gentle kiss. "Like the doctor said, you need to know what you may be in for."

Michelle returned the kiss, eyes shining. "I'm in for a wonderful rest of my life with you, that's what I'm in for. Now what?"

"Now, we need to decide how we're going to tell the kids. Do we just call them?"

Michelle rubbed her forehead. "You know, they've wanted both of us to come out for the holidays. We could fly out for a couple of days."

"Just to tell them about Suzanne?"

"No. That and about us." She smiled and took his hand. "I have a feeling that our relationship is going to take a little getting used to. Especially for Mark."

David nodded. "Yep, having us married may not sit too well, even though we are his parents."

Michelle smiled a quiet smile. "That still doesn't sound right."

David turned serious. "No it doesn't. And I won't ever say it to Mark. Joe was a wonderful man, and obviously a good father. I don't want Mark to ever feel that I'm trying to take Joe's place. I just hope we can become good friends."

Michelle nodded. "That's why I'd like to tell him now. Before we set a wedding date. We're going to be married, whether he approves or not, but I'd like to make it easier for him to accept, if we can."

David kissed her again. "Of course. I'll call Jenny and arrange things. I've got leave coming. We'll go as soon as we can. With them at Nellis and Suzanne in Colorado, they shouldn't have to worry about seeing her any time soon, if the wedding's off."

******

Michelle settled onto the cozy couch in Mark and Jenny's living room. The tiny apartment in base housing wasn't spacious, but Jenny had done wonders with it. She certainly had her grandmother's flair. "This is lovely, Jenny."

The color rose in Jenny's cheeks. "We had fun decorating on a shoe string. And all the furniture is from base storage."

David laughed. "Good thinking."

Mark appeared from the bedroom. "Did you all bring your swim suits? It's going to be hot today."

Michelle laughed. "I haven't gone swimming for Christmas in a long time, Mark. Not since you were little. Your dad and I would take you to the beach on Christmas Day."

Mark's face went blank. "I remember. Dad would carry me out into the water on his shoulders, bouncing along with the waves."

Michelle said quietly, "We had great fun, back then. You have lots of good memories of him, don't you."

Mark nodded, turning away from the group. Jenny stepped up. "Dad, why don't you run me to the commissary? We'll get steaks and grill out this evening."

David looked at her. "But, I thought..."

Jenny gave him a shove toward the door. "Come on, Dad." She glanced at Michelle. "We'll be right back. You two have a good chat."

Michelle nodded. She's got good instincts.

David shrugged. "Fine."

He followed her out the door and to the car. She handed him the keys. Once started, he glanced her way. "What is this all about? Weren't we going out to dinner?"

Jenny smiled. "I think Mark and his mom need some 'quality' time alone, Dad. You being here with her doesn't affect me the way it does him. They need to talk it out, without us."

David looked at his daughter with new eyes. "Since when did you get to be such a wise woman?"

"Since I spent the last year with my life turned upside down, that's when."

David nodded. "You've handled it very well, hon. Better than I ever thought you could."

"Well, Mark is doing okay, but he still misses his dad – like I'd miss you, if something had happened to you."

"I know, hon. We both know. That's why we came out now. We didn't want to just call. We've got good and bad news to tell you."

Jenny smiled. "I'll bet I can guess the good news. You're going to get married, right?"

David felt the heat rising. His own daughter could make him blush. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes. You can't keep your eyes off of her, Dad. You two look lovey-doveyer than we do."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

"Well, I would." Jenny grinned, enjoying her father's mild discomfort.

David shrugged, pulling into the parking lot. "We haven't set a date yet. Michelle wants to give Mark time to get used to it."

Jenny nodded. That's a good idea. I've been hinting at the possibility. I knew how you felt. When you moved to StratCom, I figured it was to be nearer to her."

David patted her hand. "Thanks for the help. I'll take all the help I can get."

"So – what's the bad news?"

"David cleared his throat. "The bad news is your mother has been exposed to the HIV virus."

"What?" Jenny's eyes widened, a stunned expression covered her face. "How, Dad?"

"Jack."

"Oh, no."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I guess he has full blown AIDS now. He's pretty sick."

Jenny rubbed her eyes. "Oh, Dad. Doesn't it ever end?"

David leaned his head on the steering wheel, then looked into his daughter's tear-filled eyes. "I hope so. I hope this is the end."

A look of horror crossed Jenny's face. "What about you, Dad? What about you?"

David rushed to reassure her. "My last physical was fine. And your mother and I separated in the house years before we separated legally. I don't think I have anything to worry about. But Dr. Sorenis wanted us to tell you and Mark, so that if you're around your mother, you're careful. Don't expose yourselves to her blood or anything else. She could develop AIDS as well."

Jenny leaned her head against the headrest. "We'll be careful, Dad, I promise." She shook her head. "What a Christmas present."

"Sorry, hon. Didn't know this one was coming."

She patted his hand. "I know." Another thought occurred to her. "What about Mom's new guy? What about Dr. Abrams? She told me they'd had to delay the wedding until after the first of the year. Didn't say why."

David nodded. "I brought him up to Dr. Sorenis. Evidently the wedding really has been called off. Sorenis is sure Abrams already knows."

Jenny shook her head. "Poor Mom."

David nodded. No use to comment any further on Suzanne's problems. They locked the car and headed into the commissary.

******

Michelle watched her son pace in front of the patio door, staring out into the tiny yard space. He rubbed the back of his neck stretching to ease the tension. Just like Joe. There was so much of Joe in him. The way he walked, his mannerisms – it was like seeing Joe all over again. Tears rimmed her eyes. "Why don't you say what you're thinking, Mark. Let's talk. We've never had any trouble before."

He turned, face twisted in pain and confusion. "I'm trying not to be angry with you."

"Angry?" Michelle tried to remain calm. Mark needed to deal with his emotions and she needed to let him..

He started pacing again, raking his fingers through his hair. "Yes, angry."

Michelle probed, hoping he'd continue. "For what?"

His answer exploded between them. "For being so happy so soon."

Michelle smiled. There, he's said it.

Mark stopped. The words sounded silly, even to him. He dropped onto the couch. "That sounds so bad, Mom, but I can't help it. Dad hasn't been gone a year and here you are, with Jenny's dad. The two of you look like teenage lovers, out of one of your books."

Michelle nodded. She could see her son's pain, written all over his face. "Mark, I miss him, too. I will always miss your father. Would you feel better if I cut my hair and wore black for a year? To show the world how much I miss him?"

"No. I don't mean that."

"Mark, I can barely stand to watch you. You're so much like Joe, that it brings tears to my eyes. I look at you and see him. You move and talk and react just like him."

Mark nodded. The pain on his mother's face was evident.

"You father took up a very large part of my heart Mark, you know that. And no one will ever fill up that space. It's reserved for the memories he and I built, together with you."

He nodded again.

"But, darling. There's another space in my heart. David had it before your dad. That's why you're here. I sealed that space up when I sent him away, before your dad and I were married, before you were born."

Mark squirmed. "He told me about the two of you – the night we were at the hospital."

"Good. He loves me Mark, he always has."

"I know. He said so that night."

"And I love him. I loved him when I left him. If I had known about you, I would have stayed with him. I loved both your fathers, Mark. I still love your biological father, Mark, and I'm going to marry him one day."

Mark nodded, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. "I don't want to stop you, Mom, it's just that..."

"It's all right, Mark," she said quietly. "I don't expect you to be overjoyed. This whole situation is so bizarre, I would never try to put it in a book. The publishers would never buy it. But life happens. We just have to pick up the pieces and move on."

He nodded, shoving up from the couch, moving to his mother's side. "It'll be all right, mom. I'll get used to it. Jenny's dad – I guess, I mean my dad – is an okay guy. I'll be all right with it."

He kissed her cheek. "You're the only mom I have. I don't want to lose you."

Michelle smiled. "Thank you, sweetheart."

She put her arms around him and he gradually returned the hug, holding her tighter and tighter as the war continued in his mind. They clung to one another, Michelle desperately trying to comfort her only son. Being strong for her hadn't helped him at all. He finally took a deep breath and relaxed his bear hug. "I'm going to be okay, Mom, I promise."

Michelle nodded. "I know you are. I just wish I could make it easier."

He shrugged. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee, soda, whatever?"

"A soda would be fine, with lots of ice. It's too hot for coffee."

Mark headed toward the kitchen. Michelle remembered she had other news to share. "Oh, I do have some other news that's not nearly as good. I'm sure David will tell Jenny while they're out."

Mark peeked around the door frame. "Tell her what?"

"Some bad news. Jenny's real father, Jack, has AIDS, and he's exposed Suzanne."

Mark stepped into the doorway, ice cube trays in hand. "Oh no, Mom. How awful."

"Yes. The doctor warned David to be sure and tell you two. Since you may see her in the future. You know, no blood or bodily fluid contact, that sort of thing."

Mark nodded, turning to drop the ice into the sink. "Well, she still isn't really speaking to us, so I doubt we'll see much of her."

"Just remember, anyway. Her wedding was called off, so you may see more of her than you think."

"Oooh, her fiancée found out?"

"I'd guess so, he's a doctor at City Hospital.

Mark returned to the living room, carrying two tall glasses of soda. He handed one to Michele. "Bad deal all around, Mom."

She nodded, taking the offered drink. "I know. Even my books don't get this complicated."

"But what about you and David, Mom? I don't want anything to happen to you." Mark frowned at the thought.

"David's last physical was fine. And evidently he and Suzanne had been 'separated' for quite a while, before we came into their lives."

Mark put his arm around her shoulders. "Now you need to take care of yourself."

"Mark, whatever happens, David and I will go through it together."

"Okay, Mom, okay. Just be careful."

"Is this the same talk I used to give you?" She laughed at the blush rising in Mark's cheeks.

"I guess." He gave her another hug.

She grinned at his sober face. "Come on. Let's get dinner started. We'll be ready to eat when they get back."

They had the table set when David and Jenny walked in the door. Mark had already fired up the grill. He waved from the patio.

Michelle said, "We're all ready for you. The charcoal's glowing and the table's set."

David glanced toward Mark and was rewarded with a real smile, the first of the trip. "Come on out. I hear you're a wizard on the grill."

David nodded and smiled at Jenny. "You've been telling tales about me, have you?"

She grinned in return. "Just a few."

"Very well, Stand back all. The chef is about to address the grill."

******

Michelle settled into the seat of the 737. "Well, I think this was a very good trip."

David, buckling up in the next seat, patted her hand. "I think so, too. You and Mark must have had a good talk. He seemed much more relaxed when we left."

Michelle nodded. "We did. He's going to be fine. It will help if we don't get married in the next week, but he's all right with it, I think. As all right as he's ever going to be."

David nodded, leaning back against the seat. "Whew. Maybe things will finally settle down for us."

"I certainly hope so. Like Mark said, we've been living one of my books. I'd like to try a regular life for a while."

He leaned over, kissing her gently. "I'd like a regular life, too. We've never had one of those. Might be interesting."

******

The three-piece string ensemble played quietly, while David and Michelle circulated among their guests. The wedding in the base chapel had been lovely; a small service, but everyone important was there. Mark and Jenny, Annie, Sam and the kids, Dorine and John; all the family they had, plus several of David's friends from the base and several more of Michelle's friends.

Jill bustled back and forth, checking tables, straightening linens, bossing the waiters. She had settled into the new Nebraska office and had taken over running the gritty details of Michelle's busy life.

The reception room at the officer's club was more crowded than Michelle had anticipated. "David," she whispered, "do we have enough to feed all these people?"

He nodded, slipping his arm around her waist. "I've spoken to the cook. There'll be enough. Don't worry. You know Jill will see to it that everyone gets fed."

Michelle laughed, glancing Jill's way. It was good to have her old friend close. She glanced up at David. "You're right, of course. What Annie doesn't boss, Jill will."

He gave her a quick kiss. "I don't need to eat, anyway. You'll fill all the appetite I have."

She grinned. "Shh."

The ensemble struck up a chord. The director looked David's way for a cue. "Come on Michelle. This is our dance."

The guests clapped when he led her onto the portable wooden dance floor set up for the evening. At his nod, the ensemble began.

"Heavenly shades of night are falling – it's twilight time."

Michelle looked up, eyes rimmed with happy tears. "You remembered!"

"I remember everything about that weekend, Michelle." He pulled her close and they swayed to the music. "I'm going to spend the rest of our lives, making all of the dreams we had that weekend come true."

He stopped, encircling her in his embrace, covering her mouth with a most wonderful kiss, full of promise and love, one that would forever erase the "forbidden" from their weekend.

THE END