Copper Lake Confidential - By Marilyn Pappano Page 0,58
to respond, and she nodded. “It’s not the town, Macy. It’s this house. Fair Winds. The Howard family legacy. So you move out of this house. You sell it, you tear it down and you find another one, one that’s perfect for you and Clary. You sell or donate Fair Winds.
“As for the legacy, you and Clary are the only Howards left around here. You don’t have to be concerned about it anymore. You don’t have to be a part of it. You can even get rid of the name for both of you.”
She tilted her head to one side, studying him. “You think calling ourselves Macy and Clary Ireland would make people forget that we used to be Macy and Clary Howard?”
Macy Ireland. It did have a much sweeter sound to it.
“Eventually. Sooner rather than later if you marry again, make a new family.” Macy Noble...that sounded even better. Not that he was actually thinking about marriage. He just liked to consider all the possibilities. What was the point of a serious relationship if there wasn’t at least a chance it would last? That she would stick around long enough for them to decide what was between them?
Though he was already past that point. He didn’t even know how it had happened, how someone he’d met less than a week ago had become so much a part of his life. But she had. It would be a loss if she left before giving them a chance.
“Marry again.” The words didn’t even qualify as a whisper. “I’d have to love someone, like him, trust him an awful lot to consider getting married. I don’t know if I have that kind of trust to give.”
“You trust your brother. Your sister-in-law. To some extent you trust me or you wouldn’t let me near Clary.” He willed her to look at him, and she did, and he willed her to acknowledge that, yes, she did trust him. Hadn’t she turned to him for help a couple of times? Hadn’t she chosen him to accompany her to Fair Winds? Hadn’t she let him kiss her in the night by the pool?
Or had he merely been the only guy handy for all those things?
But her expression gave away nothing on her version of trust versus his.
Defeat like a cold brush over his shoulders, he said, “You’ll get married again. You’re too young, beautiful, perfectly suited to motherhood, to stay single the rest of your life. You’ll trust someone, you’ll get married and you’ll have more babies—”
“I lost my daughter after Mark died.”
Puzzled, Stephen glanced to the faintly illuminated window upstairs that showed where Clary slept. “You lost custody—”
She shook her head, her face as pale as her dress. If her hair had been blond, she could have easily passed for something from the other side, a heartbroken angel or a weary spirit. And like a runaway train that suddenly crashed to a halt, his heart stopped beating, his lungs stopped pumping air, as he realized what she was saying. “You were pregnant....”
She nodded.
“Oh, Macy.” He released her hand and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. “God, I’m sorry. I had no idea....”
For a time she remained stiff, but then she relaxed, sinking against him, warm and delicate and trembling. He wished he’d dropped the subject before marriage had come into it, but since he hadn’t, he wished he knew what to say to ease her loss. A baby, another Clary but younger, tinier, needier... As if anything could ease that.
“I lost the baby two weeks after Mark died. My doctor thought it was because of the stress.” Her small hand reached out, curled itself into the fabric of his T-shirt. “I was pretty logical growing up. I always believed that when it was your time to die, you would die, no matter what precautions you took, no matter what heroic measures were taken to save you. When horrible things happened, I thought God had a plan. When people died too young, I believed God wanted them back in heaven.”
Glancing up, her face only a few inches from him, her eyes damp with tears, she said, “It’s damn hard to apply logic to your own baby’s death. I blamed Mark with a hatred that surprised even me. I do have friends here—not many, but good ones. That’s one reason why I stay so close to home. I don’t want to see them. They know everything, and there’s just this...pity.”