Heartwishes (39 page)

“Your little brother stayed out all night and told nobody where he was going,” his father said. He was at the company apartment in Richmond, where he always stayed when a dealership was conducting a big sale. “I hope that boy is with a girl.”

“Is that your father I hear?” Mrs. Frazier asked.

“Yeah, Mom, he’s on the other phone.”

“Peregrine!” Mrs. Frazier shouted. “You went off and left our son
alone
!”

Colin put the two phones together.

“It’s not like he needs a babysitter,” Mr. Frazier said. “Nobody’s gonna pick him up and put him in the trunk of a car. He barely fits in the back of a three-quarter-ton pickup.”

“Always making jokes, aren’t you?” Mrs. Frazier said. “My youngest son is lost because you ran off and left him to fend for himself. He’s probably starving.”

“Rachel will—”

“Don’t you start on that again! Rachel and Pere are falling in love. Everyone but you saw it. I came here to California just to give them some privacy.”

“Ha! You went there to nag poor Ariel into getting pregnant.”

“I did no such—”

Colin put his cell down on the coffee table and laid the handset to the landline on top so they could yell at each other. He took a shower, put on clean jeans and a shirt, and when he returned, his parents were still arguing.

“If you’d leave that girl alone, maybe she’d find time to get pregnant,” Mr. Frazier was saying. “Frank wants kids, so that’s half of the battle.”

“Since when does what a man want have anything to do with babies? I’m the one who had to carry your children. Did you forget that Colin weighed ten pound and two ounces when he was born?”

Colin rolled his eyes. He’d been told that once a week during his childhood. He picked up the phones. “I have to go look for my itty-bitty, helpless baby brother and I need my cell. Go to bed, both of you.” He clicked both phones off at the same time and put his mobile in the leather pouch on his belt, right beside his gun.

He went out to the garage, got in his Jeep, and opened the big overhead door. When he saw the storm outside, he was glad he had his new house. In the last years at his apartment, he’d had to park on the street. At his parents’ house, his dad saw every garage as a place to store his cars, either the antiques or the ones he’d paid so much for that he wouldn’t allow anyone to drive them. The cars the family used—which were changed for new models every year—sat in the driveway in the rain, sun, and snow.

“At least Gemma has a carport,” he said aloud, and he liked thinking of her warm and snug in her bed.

He had an idea where Shamus was. Colin didn’t think any of his family knew how much time the boy spent at Gemma’s place. Shamus would walk there, not driving a utility vehicle, which he said was like putting up a neon sign telling where he was.

One afternoon Colin had seen Shamus give a single tap on Gemma’s door, then open it. Obviously, his visits were so familiar that he didn’t need to wait for her to let him in. Two hours later, Colin had parked nearby, meaning to go in to see Gemma, but he stopped a few feet outside and looked in. Shamus was on the couch,
his big body bent over a drawing pad, his feet on the coffee table beside an empty plate and glass.

Gemma was sprawled on big cushions on the floor with neat stacks of papers around her, her beloved colored pens in a row by her ankle.

It was then that Colin realized that he loved her, and that maybe he had since he’d first seen her. He suspected that at first his attraction to her had to do with her fitting an image of how he’d always seen his future. But whatever the reason, from the first moment, he’d wanted to be with her. Never in his life had he felt more comfortable with anyone than he did with Gemma. He never felt in competition with her, as he had with Jean. With Gemma, he’d never felt anything but a deep sense of belonging, of being where he was supposed to be when it was time—and that feeling went all the way down into his very bones.

As he drove, the wipers on as fast as they’d go, Colin knew that he’d made a mistake with Gemma in not trusting her and in letting his jealousy show. Colin wondered if on some unconscious level he’d always known that Jean was concealing part of herself from him and that’s why he’d done the same to her. Maybe he’d realized that to show vulnerability to someone as aggressive as Jean would be like a gladiator admitting fear.

But Gemma was different. Gemma was
real
.

Colin pulled into the drive, and when he saw her Volvo under the carport, he gave a sigh of relief. He knew that for the second time in his life he was going to have to bare his soul to another human being. The first time had been when he’d told Gemma what Jean had said to him on that horrible day in his apartment. He’d survived that time of revelation. And now he knew that if he wanted Gemma—and he did—then he was going to have to “tell her” everything, including the truth about how he felt about her.
What was it Mr. Lang had said? “If you like her, you better work to keep her.” The old man was right.

When Colin knocked on her door and Gemma didn’t answer, it was as though his heart jumped into his throat. Had his ruse failed and Jean’s uncle taken her? Or was she with Tris? Had Colin’s stupidity driven her to another man?

He had to work to calm himself down. When he turned the door lever and it opened, fear began to go through him. He hoped she was asleep in her bed and hadn’t heard his knock over the storm. But if she was, he was going to remind her that he’d specifically told her that she had to keep her door locked at all times.

But her bed was empty. It had been slept in, but there was no one in it now. He looked about the place with a lawman’s eye, but he saw no signs of struggle. Her pajamas had been tossed on the unmade bed, so it looked as though she’d dressed before she went out. But her car was here, and he’d never seen Gemma drive a utility vehicle, even though Lanny had said he’d made one available to her, so where was she?

“She’s with Shamus,” Colin said aloud as he went outside and got in his car. He drove over the winding gravel paths that ran through the Frazier land until he came to the big warehouse at the back in record time. The rain was coming down so hard that he couldn’t see but a few feet in front of him, but he knew the way. The long, low building was at the very back of his father’s property, and next to it were the acres of state-owned land of the wilderness preserve. The warehouse stored some of their family’s oldest artifacts, including the yellow carriage that Colin thought should be in a museum. But when any of his sons said that, Peregrine Frazier said that the family kept what was theirs.

When Colin pulled up to the front door, he saw a light seeping out from under it. There were no windows in the building, and
there were several security devices. Shamus knew all the codes—none of which would hinder Jean’s uncle, Colin thought.

He parked up against the porch so he wouldn’t have to fight the rain. When he saw that it was unlocked and the alarm was turned off, just to be on the safe side, he withdrew his firearm from the holster, held it at arm’s length and went inside, quietly closing the door behind him.

26

S
HAMUS,”
G
EMMA SAID,
her voice heavy with sleep. “Why don’t you do this tomorrow?”

He was sitting in the back of a big Conestoga wagon and sketching the little yellow carriage, which was a few feet away. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said, without looking up. “But you should go to bed.”

“I can’t leave you here alone. Your family is worried about you.” She was sitting behind him in the wagon bed on a big piece of canvas.

“They’re mad at Colin, not me.”

“I know,” Gemma said. “So am I. But the good news is that he’s absolutely miserable.” A noise made her look to the left to see Colin standing there and putting his gun back in the holster. “Speak of the devil . . . So, sheriff, what brings you out on this lovely morning?”

“My little brother. You’re causing a fury.”

Shamus glared at his brother. “Why have you been with Jean these last days?”

Colin glanced at Gemma. It looked like she hadn’t told anyone about Jean’s uncle. But then she wouldn’t after he’d bawled her out for telling Tris too much.

Colin hoisted himself up onto the end of the wagon, beside Shamus, but a few feet from Gemma. The rain outside made it loud in the warehouse, and in spite of all the many overhead lights, the forms of the old wagons and carriages, all made by past Fraziers, created a ghostly air in the big, hollow building. Shamus loved it; Colin never had. He took a breath as he prepared to tell his brother the truth. “All the years I knew Jean, she was lying to me. She said she had no aunts, uncles, or cousins.”

“That proves she’s not from Edilean,” Gemma said.

Shamus snorted.

“Her loss,” Colin said. “Jean’s late father has a brother who is an internationally notorious thief. He breaks into places like the U.S. Consulate in Romania and takes things.”

“Like what?” Gemma had heard all this before, but her curiosity was taking over.

“Whatever anyone pays him to get. The man has no conscience, no morals. I got Jean to tell me the truth about her life, and the bastard’s cleaned out her mother’s accounts twice. He’s either filthy rich or destitute.”

“Did Jean tell you where he is?” Gemma asked.

“She says she hasn’t seen him in years.”

“You haven’t found out that she lies all the time?” Shamus asked. He had his back to both of them and was still sketching.

“Yeah, I know that now,” Colin said. “She certainly didn’t tell me about her uncle.”

“What does she lie about?” Gemma asked Shamus.

“She’s not faithful to Colin,” the young man said. “Never has been.” There was anger in his voice.

“I know,” Colin said softly to his brother. “I’ve found out more than I ever wanted to.” When he looked at Gemma, there was longing in his eyes.

Turning, Shamus glanced at Gemma in question and she knew what he was asking. She shook her head. No, she hadn’t told Colin about the baby and didn’t want to do it now. “So you’re saying that Jean kept secrets from you?” she asked with as much innocence as she could muster.

“Yeah,” Colin said. “Just as I did to you.”

Shamus gave a little guffaw of laughter. “Gemma’s smarter than you are.”

Colin grinned. “That wouldn’t be too difficult.” Thunder rolled around outside. “I really hate to break up this party, but I think we should all go home to bed. And you, little brother, are going to call our parents and tell them you’re okay.”

Shamus didn’t move. “You made Gemma cry.”

“I know,” Colin said, “and I regret it. I thought it would be better if Jean’s uncle heard that I’d broken up with Gemma. I was afraid . . . am still afraid that . . .” For a moment he looked at her and his eyes held hers. All that he felt—and feared—was there for her to see. “I won’t do it again,” he said, and there was promise in his voice.

Shamus flipped his drawing pad closed and got off the wagon.

Colin followed, and they stood at the end, both of them lifting their arms up to Gemma to help her down. She went to Shamus and he swung her down to stand beside him on the side away from Colin.

“How long will it be before you forgive me?” Colin asked.

“I have no idea,” Gemma said. “Tris and I will talk about it.”

When Colin groaned, Shamus grinned. “She should never let you off the hook,” he said.

Colin took a breath. “I’ll work hard to make that statement untrue,” he said, looking at Gemma, then he lifted his head. “Little brother, I’m taking you home and after I make sure you call Mom and Dad and tell them you’re sorry for worrying them, I’m taking Gemma to my house and I’m going to start begging. Pleading. Whatever I have to do to get her to forgive me.”

Shamus nodded. “You should listen to her. She has a lot to tell you.”

“And I want to hear every word,” Colin said.

Gemma didn’t dare look at Shamus for fear that her face would give away her secret. Whereas Colin was talking about one thing, she was sure Shamus was referring to the baby. As Gemma kept her eyes on Colin, she knew she wasn’t going to easily get over her hurt. The things he’d said about her and Tris still rang in her head. There needed to be some big changes between them.

As for Gemma, she was going to have to give up some of her own independence. They needed to become a team, not two individuals who came together when their paths happened to cross.

Shamus and Colin were watching her, waiting for her reply.

Her eyes were on Colin’s. “I think we need to do a great deal of talking.”

“I agree,” he said, and they left the warehouse.

27

C
OLIN WAS WAITING
for Gemma when she pulled into the carport of the guesthouse. As soon as they were inside, he turned to her.

“I made mistakes,” he said. “I should have explained about Jean from the beginning. And I should have told her about you the day after I met you. I shouldn’t have been jealous of you and Tristan. I shouldn’t—”

He broke off because Gemma reached up and put her fingertips over his lips. “If it’s going to work between us, I need to know what’s going on. I need to know where I stand. I can’t take spending a glorious day with you then the next knowing you’re with Jean. I really need to know what I am to you.”

Colin put his hand on the side of her face. “I love you,” he said softly. “It’s taken me a while to realize it, but I love you.”

The pain of Colin’s accusations was too fresh for Gemma to say the words back to him. Maybe it was because of her love of research, but she needed to hear facts. “I want to know what you’ve been
doing. The town knows you’ve been with Jean, and I’m tired of the looks of pity.”

“Fair enough,” he said and they sat down on the couch together. Colin began the long story of everything he’d found out on his trip to D.C. and what he’d managed to get from Jean.

“I still don’t know what the man is after,” Colin said, “and Jean says she doesn’t know.”

The sun came up and they were still talking.