An Irresistible Bachelor (An Unforgettable Lady #2)(73)

Her mother was obviously shaken. “You shouldn’t do things like that. Remember how I told you that your father is a secret? A secret between the three of us?”

Of course Callie had remembered, but she was getting tired of keeping her mouth shut. No one else’s father had to be kept hidden.

“I was just telling some stranger.”

“But if you tell a secret, what happens?” her mother had prompted.

“You don’t have to keep it anymore,” she’d retorted, putting her fists on her hips.

“No. No—Callie, look at me. If you share a secret, what happens? You lose something special.”

Callie had started shaking her head. She was tired of the lecture, tired of keeping the stupid secret. Besides, it wasn’t like she was gaining much by being a good girl. Whether she followed her mother’s rules or not, her father still didn’t look her in the eye when he came to visit.

“Callie, I’m serious.”

At that moment, she hadn’t cared how stern her mother was getting. “So what! If I tell people about Daddy, I’m going to lose him? Who cares!”

Her mother had gripped her shoulders and put her face down so close that their noses had almost touched. “If you tell, we’re both going to lose him.”

Looking into her mother’s pale face, Callie had felt the fight drain right out of her.

As she came back to the present, she heard the sound of Artie chasing groundhogs in his sleep. She glanced over the side of the bed, watching his paws twitch and hearing him yodel deep in his throat.

God, she wished she had a different story to tell. But she didn’t.

And breaking through years of careful schooling was not something she could do easily. After a lifetime of guarding the secret, letting it out felt all wrong even though she reminded herself that it was Jack who wanted to know.

If she could tell anyone, surely it would be him.

And what about the election? The press? It wasn’t a fait accompli that a reporter would find out what she was hiding. But considering what there was to lose, namely Grace’s peace of mind and security, was she really willing to chance exposure?

Artie jerked and let out something that was close to a bark.

“Wake up,” she murmured, reaching down and patting the dog. “Come on, now.”

His eyes opened halfway and he seemed grateful as he looked up at her. Maybe the groundhogs had been coming after him this time.

Abruptly, she felt like she knew what being chased was like. She’d been trying to outrun her father’s dubious legacy for some time now, but damn it, history was proving fast and tireless.

She stroked Artie’s head until he fell asleep, and then she put a pillow against the headboard and leaned back. As she stared at the Caravaggio over the fireplace, she let the debate between her past and her present fill the dark, quiet hours.





19


THE NEXT morning, Callie put Artie on a leash and headed off at the crack of dawn for a walk. By the time they came back down Buona Fortuna’s driveway, the dog was exhausted. Unlike her, he didn’t have to work off anxiety and dismay, two great energizers along the lines of caffeine and rocket fuel.

They’d walked along the side of the road for miles, all the way into Weston, the next town over. She’d finally forced herself to turn back, because however keyed up she was, walking to the New Hampshire border wouldn’t accomplish anything other than wearing out her running shoes. Besides, Artie was starting to droop.

When she approached the house, the garage doors were open and Mrs. Walker’s Jaguar was gone, which meant Jack had left for the day. He’d taken to driving his mother’s car because it was an automatic and he couldn’t shift with his arm in a cast. Looking at the empty bay, she was disappointed that she’d missed an opportunity to try to apologize to him again.

After she let the dog into the kitchen, she said good morning to Thomas and went up to the garage. She’d just turned on the big light and settled in when she heard footsteps come up the stairs. She turned and was surprised to see Jack.

His eyes met hers, but he didn’t smile.

“I’d thought you’d gone,” she said, putting down the wooden stick she was about to wind with cotton.

“I’m working from home today.” He walked across the room to a window, hands in the pockets of his jeans, a thick Irish sweater bringing out the darkness of his hair. Weak sunlight fell across his face as he scanned the sky.

“About last night,” she began. “I really want to apologize. I was frustrated and angry—”

“And honest, maybe?” He looked at her over his shoulder.

“Jack—”

“I need to make something clear.”

“Okay,” she said, putting her hands on her knees and leaning forward to ease the tension in her shoulders.

“I told you I wanted more out of this relationship than sex and a little affection. I’m greedy by nature, so I won’t settle for second best. I never do. I want all of you, Callie. Not just the pretty bits and pieces.” He faced her. “I want to know about your past because it’s part of you. Not because I’m worried about how it will affect me.”

“I believe you.”

“So talk to me.”

She started to shake her head. “It’s not that simple.”