Tangled Web (21 page)

Hope sighed, wishing there were a less hurtful way to explain it all to Chase. “Edmond didn't want either of you to know,” she confided in a thick voice. She met Chase's eyes with as much candor as she could muster. “I tried to get him to tell you, but he wouldn't.” She shook her head, remembering. “He said you had enough on your mind, with just growing up and going to school. He didn't want you worrying about his health, too.” Hope lifted her shoulders. “And as it turned out, when the treatments began to work and he went into remission, it wasn't necessary. As for
your mother, he didn't want the issue of his illness clouding his divorce. That's why he didn't tell her. And again, I had nothing to say about it. Those were his decisions.” Just like the decision to keep her baby had been hers, she thought.

Chase was quiet, soaking it all in. Finally he turned to her, his gaze accusing. “Why didn't you tell me any of this when I first came here?”

“Because I promised your dad,” Hope said, again.

“Meaning what?” Chase asked softly, the depth of his anger and resentment even more apparent. “That your first loyalty was to him, even after we started to become involved? Were you more concerned about promises in the past than the anguish I might be feeling now? Dammit, Hope, you know how I suffered. I fought not to make love to you. How could you have let me suffer like that, Hope? How could you
not
have told me, especially after we made love, when you knew how guilty I felt?” He'd thought them so close then, so connected. Obviously they were not, not if she'd been able to keep something that crucial and that potentially healing, from him.

Because I'm still protecting Joey, she thought. And because I'm still protecting myself from the pain of your lack of faith in me. Surely if Chase loved her, if he cared about her at all, he'd be able to accept her, without question.

Chase shook his head. “I can't deal with people who are dishonest, Hope. I can't deal with the fact that you didn't trust me enough to level with me, if not in the beginning, at least, when we made love.”

Hope stared at him, angry now, too. His thinking the worst of her was all too reminiscent of her past. She had promised herself when she left home under a cloud of disgrace that she would never get involved with anyone who didn't have faith in her, who didn't believe in the goodness inside her. God knew she had never expected it from her parents. They had never given her any reason to think their love for her was unconditional. But she
had
expected it from Chase!

“Do you really think I wanted to hurt you?” she said emotionally. She wanted to tell him everything about Joey's father, but she knew the price of revealing too much. She knew what happened when people who said they loved you turned around and said they didn't believe you. She certainly wasn't going to let Joey
be hurt by making his parentage known to anyone but herself. It was enough that she had given herself completely to Chase, made love to him with all her heart and soul, and then been cruelly forsaken.

They faced each other. Chase remained silent, aloof.

But then, she surmised grimly, he didn't have to say anything. Hope saw the guilty verdict on his face. She knew he had tried and convicted her as surely as her parents had. Her heart full of the numbing bitterness that had plagued her for years, she turned and left the guest house without another word. He didn't come after her. She didn't look back.

 

“Y
OU LOOK LIKE HELL
, darling,” Rosemary said the following morning.

Chase felt like hell. He'd just had two sleepless nights and was probably facing another. “May I come in?” he said tersely.

“Of course.” Rosemary ushered him into her hotel room.

“Would you like me to order you some breakfast? I've already had my coffee but—”

“Got any left?” Locating the carafe, he jiggled it and found it half-f.

“Yes, but there are no cups…” Her voice trailed off. She shuddered in distaste, watching him tear the paper wrapper off a water tumbler and pour coffee into it. “Chase, honestly. I could have called and got you a proper cup and saucer.”

“This is fine,” he said gruffly, too upset to care about using the proper china for his morning jolt of caffeine.

His mother studied him. “You're still angry with me?”

Chase shrugged, feeling peculiarly close to tears. And he never cried. Never. The one exception being when his father died. “Confused is more like it,” he admitted. He needed the kind of heartfelt comfort he wasn't sure she could give. Not knowing where to start, he began by telling his mother about his father's illness. He discovered Hope had been right; Rosemary hadn't known about Edmond's cancer or his surgery.

“I don't understand,” she said in anguish when Chase had finished speaking. “Why wouldn't he have told me?”

Maybe, Chase thought sadly, Edmond had known how selfish his wife was and had figured Rosemary was the last person he
would want by his side at such a time. Chase took another draught of the hot, strong coffee, letting it beat a scalding path to his stomach. “I don't know, Mom.”

“Was I that bad a wife to him? That he felt he couldn't turn to me in what must have been the worst time of his life?”

Chase swallowed hard. He had no answer for that.

“But Hope was there for him,” Rosemary ascertained in a shocked whisper.

Chase nodded. “In a way neither of us could be, apparently.”

Rosemary buried her face in her hands. “It really was my fault,” she murmured.

And in that second, Chase knew what Hope had asserted all along was true. She really hadn't broken up his parents' marriage. Unfortunately she had put her loyalty to Edmond above her loyalty to him and that he couldn't dismiss nearly as easily. If she didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth, what kind of relationship could they ever have?

 

H
OPE WAS HALFWAY DOWN
the driveway, toward the morning paper when she saw Russell Morris. He was waiting in a car across the street. “Nice morning, isn't it?” he called. He got out and strolled straight toward her.

Her heart pounding, Hope kept her pace steady. She bent down to pick up the paper. Lately, only Joey had kept her on an even keel. The argument with Chase had left her drained and empty inside. She didn't need a confrontation with Russell on top of that, but it looked as if she was going to get one anyway. When she straightened again, he was right in front of her. “What do you want?” She gave him an ice-cold look.

“Is that any way to greet an old boyfriend?”

Her mouth filled with a coppery taste. Ignoring his provocative remark, she said, “I'm very busy.”

“I know,” he returned confidently. “I saw the business Barrister's has been doing the past few days.”

Hope felt her spine stiffen. “We've had a lot of traffic.”

“And a lot of sales.”

Not as many as Hope would've liked. “Is there a point to this?” she asked impatiently.

“Why don't you invite me in for breakfast and we'll talk about it?”

“No.”

He quirked a brow. “Don't you want your son to see me?”

At the mention of Joey, Hope's knees went weak.

“Now why could that be, I wonder?” Russell continued smoothly. “It wouldn't have anything to do with his not having a father, would it?”

“I don't—”

“Cut the crap, Hope,” Russell said roughly. “I know when he was born. I know when we were together and I think I might just have a pretty interesting lawsuit to file. Custody cases always make such fascinating reading, don't they? Especially ones that involve lots of money. Of course, if you could see your way clear to give me another loan of another hundred and fifty thou or so then maybe I wouldn't be so determined to see a lawyer. Am I making myself clear?”

Very, Hope thought, feeling sick.

“Morning!” Chase's cheerful voice sounded in the distance. He was wearing swim trunks and a calf-length terry robe; a towel was laced around his neck. He joined them. “I thought I heard voices out here.”

Hope stood stiffly. Bad enough Chase had discovered all the hurtful specifics surrounding her marriage to his father. She didn't want him drawn into this, too.

The two men greeted one another. “Carmelita needs you in the kitchen, Hope. Some question about the menu.” Chase looked at Russell pointedly. “Sorry you can't come in.”

Russell was livid, but controlled himself because of Chase. “Yes, well, I am, too. Hope, I'll be seeing you around.”

“What was that all about?” Chase asked as he fell into step beside her. “What does he want from you?”

Hope was silent.

“Talk to me, dammit. Tell me what's going on.” She looked unsteady as hell. He waited until they rounded the corner of the house, then stopped beside the nearest tree. She leaned against it weakly, but still said nothing. She just stood there looking as though she wanted to cry.

Chase stared at her in frustration, aware his heart was beating double time. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her until
she was damn near ready to faint, and until she was ready to confess. But that was no solution.

Hope had to want to let him into her life, all the way. She had to want to open up to him or it wouldn't work. Right now that wasn't the case. He had vague guesses as to what was going on, but nothing concrete. He could help Hope, if she'd let him. But she wouldn't. Hadn't he promised himself he wouldn't get close to people who had no intention of ever opening up to him? Wasn't he through chasing lost causes? And yet here he was again, wanting so much. He was ready to give and yet he was being rejected.

“If you ever change your mind about talking,” he said, holding out absolutely no prospect she would, “you know where to find me.”

 

“H
OPE
, that's the tenth message Russell Morris left for you today,” Steve Supack said. “I don't think he's going to give up until he sees you.”

I know he isn't, Hope thought, depressed.

“And that's not the worst of it,” Leigh Olney said, adding her two cents. “Scuttlebutt is that Rosemary Barrister is trying to get her son and everyone on the Board to vote you out of the presidency. She thinks the sales figures are all the proof she needs.”

“They weren't that bad,” Steve said in Hope's defense.

Leigh agreed. “I'm happy with them. But you know Cassandra Hayes. She wants profit with a capital
P,
and when she doesn't get it—” Leigh made a slashing motion across her neck.

Hope smiled at her staff's antics. She knew they were trying to be helpful. Unfortunately right now she had the feeling nothing could help. Except maybe Chase.

Why hadn't she confided in him this morning when she'd had the chance? If anyone could scare off Russell Morris, it was Chase. But she had hesitated to tell him the depth of the trouble she was in. Why? It wasn't as if he could think any worse of her. Thanks to Rosemary's half-truths and accusations, he already had a very low opinion of her.

She could set him straight, of course. But he probably wouldn't believe what Russell and his family had done to her, no more than he had believed her when she had told him the truth about his
mother. As for Russell, she had no more money and no more jewelry to sell.

“Hey, don't you have to get out of here?” Leigh asked.

“Doesn't Joey have a game tonight?”

“Yes. He does. Thanks for reminding me.” Jerked back to the pressing demands of the present, Hope forced a wan smile. “I'll see you two in the morning.”

Steve saluted. “We'll keep our ears to the ground.”

“Are you sure you feel up to playing tonight?” Hope asked Joey when she got home. Clad in his uniform, he was seated on his bed. Mitt on, he was pounding a ball into the center of it with forceful regularity.

“Yeah, why wouldn't I?”

“Well, the Bateman twins, for one thing.”

“Oh. Well, they're always going to be around,” he offered philosophically, tossing down his glove and adjusting the brim of his hat.

“Yes, but not on your team,” Hope pointed out reasonably.

“You don't have to go, you know. You could sit the rest of the season out or you could be put on a different team.” With a coach who knows how to control his players, Hope added silently.

“Aw, Mom,” Joey said, visibly affronted by the suggestion.

“Don't coddle me.”

Hope hesitated, wanting to do what was best for her son, but uncertain what that was. “Is that what you think I'm doing?”

“Yeah, I do. I don't mean to insult you or anything but, like Chase says, I gotta learn to be tough and stand up for myself.”

Hope sighed. Chase, after all, was probably right. “He's talked to you about this?”

“Mmm-hmm. Lots,” Joey responded enthusiastically. “When you're not home. He says there are always going to be bullies and that I need to learn to deal with them.” Joey shrugged. “As hard as it is, I gotta do it.”

Wise advice, Hope thought. If only she could apply it to herself.

“Now can we go?” Joey jumped up, anxious to get a move on. “Hurry and change, Mom. If we don't hustle, we're going to be late.”

 

H
OPE CLIMBED UP
the bleachers, taking a place near a group of other mothers. As usual, she joined in the small talk, but thinking
about the game ahead, her stomach was in a knot of apprehension. On the field, warming up with his team, Joey looked tense, too.

Let him handle it, Chase had said. Asthma or not, you can't fight his battles for the rest of his life. But he's so young, a part of her protested. He's also getting older every day, the more pragmatic part of her answered, and the lessons he learns now will serve him the rest of his life. She sighed. Why was the hardest part of mothering learning to let go?