The Edge of Recall (28 page)

“You can go back.” She rested her palm on his chest. “I know you have things to do.”

She expected him to fail her, even in this small thing. Her stopwatch ticked away toward disappointment. He didn’t want to disappoint her, yet it made no sense to attack the weed by hand when she would have the machine running soon enough.

“Go on.” She smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think you should work out here alone. He’s been toying with us, but that’s not to say it won’t escalate.” It wasn’t his place to tell a consulting architect what she should be doing or not. What about someone he cared about, might possibly love, and certainly wanted to protect?

“I have pepper spray in my purse.”

“And your purse is …”

“In the trailer.”

He cocked his head. “Not exactly within reach.”

“I’ll keep the spray with me after this. But Nan says he’s harmless. Never even says boo.”

His phone signaled a text message, and he released her. Checking the ID, he stiffened. “I need to deal with this, but I don’t want you out here alone.”

“I’ll walk back with you for the pepper spray.”

Probably the best he would get. He responded to the text as they walked.
Not now. Not here.
Relieved when no response came, he clipped his phone back onto his belt.

The wind caught tendrils of Tessa’s hair across her forehead and around her face as they walked. He wanted to lock her into the trailer and make her stay, because being out there had given him a bad feeling, but that was ridiculous. He didn’t succumb to feelings.

They reached the trailer and went inside. While Tessa located her purse and the defensive spray inside, he texted:
Call you tonight.
He did not want to be put into an awkward position. More than that he didn’t want to put Tessa—

A knock rattled the door. It opened. “Smith?”

In sync with Tessa, he turned. His heart raced; his spirit sank. “Danae.”

Nearly as tall as he, she wore fitted slacks and a knit shell that draped her effectively. Pearls graced her ears and throat. Her hair hung shining to her waist.

His throat constricted. “Danae, this is Tessa. Tessa, Danae.”

Tessa pocketed the pepper spray and shook his ex’s hand. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Danae flashed a smile. He noticed once more how pronounced her features were, the peaked arch of her eyebrows, the shelf of her cheekbones, the Roman arch of her nose. An arresting face, made dynamic by her keen gaze. There was nothing airy about Danae.

Tessa slipped past them to the door. “I’m going back to work.”

He wanted to argue but said instead, “Be careful.”

As the door closed behind her, one thought rose above the others; why had he not told Danae he was in a new relationship?

CHAPTER

25

Tessa pocketed the pepper spray and called the machinery rental shop for a replacement key. They had closed for the day. Tension spiraled up her spine, and now she would not be able to release it with the levers of the Bobcat. She fetched the shovel from the shed. That and the pruning saw would have to do.

Her grip tightened on the shovel. Danae was not beautiful. She was striking and impressive. And she wore her hair down.

Why hadn’t Smith told her Danae was coming? If that was what he’d needed to deal with, he could have warned her. Unless he didn’t want her to know. Then why ask her to come back to the trailer?

She shook her head. All she’d asked from him was the truth. All she’d wanted was candor. And loyalty. And love. She would have liked him to mean what he’d said. And maybe he had, at the time, in a way. Maybe he’d thought he meant it. She could understand that. People couldn’t know when things would change. They just did.

She brushed a tear away. The problem was things didn’t change for everyone at the same time. Someone was always left behind. Dragging the shovel and carrying the saw, she strode through the quickening wind that pushed and bunched the looming clouds.

After facing the last storm in the woods, she should go back inside. But the trailer was occupied. She would get in the car and go back to the inn, but Smith had the keys. She kept walking.

She had a duty, a mission. A monster to trap. Dr. Brenner didn’t want the monster locked away. He wanted it brought to light. That was not happening. She would do war one kudzu crown at a time, if she had to, before she would give that monster the light of day.

Especially now that she was vulnerable. Dr. Brenner had been right that she should not have two stressors. Smith didn’t want to hear about it, but he had no idea how hard it was not to question every word, doubt every action. Being with him was like looking at the sun. She wouldn’t realize she’d been burned until her eyes went dark. Then all she’d have would be memories to tuck into the cache of cherished people who had mattered enough to risk loving, even though the loss was excruciating.

A gust of wind propelled her toward the labyrinth field. She had arrived embittered and resentful, reacting to everything like a raw nerve. Then she’d found joy, though joy implied carefree, and this joy was wary; this joy’s edges were sharp and they cut when she least expected it—a glance, a brush of Smith’s fingers, the tug of them in her hair—each of those glances, every touch would now be glass in her heart.

Smith was in the trailer with the woman he’d loved, maybe still loved, and there was nothing she could do, because she didn’t ask God to answer prayers like mail-order requests. She sought him in the labyrinth, gained what divine insight she could find, used the meditation to go deeper, grow wiser, transform herself again and again into what she had to be to survive.

After her long drive, Danae had headed straight for the bathroom, and from the length of time spent in there, she must be freshening her hair and makeup. He didn’t want to think why. She came out and flashed her close-the-deal smile. He braced himself for questions about Tessa, but Danae started more subtly.

“You’re surprised, I guess.” She slid the glossy brunette strands behind one ear.

“Well, yes. How did you know where to find me?”

“I went to your office first. Bair gave me directions.”

Of course he did. “It’s a long way down. You could have called.”

“I wanted to see you. I’m sorry if it isn’t a good time. I was looking so closely for the gate I missed your replies.”

“It’s all right.” If she was already that close, he’d have let her come anyway.

“If you’re too busy …”

“No, I’m not.” He thought of Tessa out in the field. “Would you like some tea?”

“Oh yes. Do you have it iced?”

“Um.” He moved toward the kitchen. “Some chilled green, I think. Tessa won’t mind sharing.”

“She must be the landscape architect.”

“That’s right.”

“Bair told me.”

“Told you …”

“She does labyrinths.”

He poured Danae a glass of tea.

“You don’t mind that I came, do you?”

“Of course not, but I’m not really set up for company.” He brought a chair around for her, turned his to face it. “This isn’t the most comfortable office. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve worked from a trailer before.”

“I’m on-site for the duration.” Far enough that resuming their relationship would be difficult except by phone, if he even wanted to.

He needed to tell her, but couldn’t find the words to explain his relationship with Tessa. For the first time he understood Bair’s disability. “So … how are you?”

“Well, I’m getting some influential clients, planning some amazing governmental events. Mostly through Edward’s contacts, I admit. He’s in the House now. Did you know? Representative from Pennsylvania.”

“I didn’t know.”

“My weekends are scheduled three years out, except for slots I keep open for VIP accounts. Ed is constantly amazed and, I don’t mean to sound boastful, but really impressed by how much I accomplish. Things move so slowly in his bureaucratic world.”

“Yes, I imagine.”

“I’m excited at the way it’s all taking off. No White House events yet, but it’s possible, Smith. It’s not just a pipe dream. People know who I am, what I can do.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“It is. I have all these ideas and contacts—oh, Smith, you should see my contact list. People are practically begging to be considered. Florists, caterers, entertainers, security. Even go-fers.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“The matter?” Her smile was just a little too bright.

“Yes, Danae. The matter.”

She deflated. “Edward.”

“I’m not comfortable—”

“I know. You don’t want to say anything against him. You’re so considerate.”

Not really, when it came to the man who’d had no qualms about disrupting a relationship in progress.

“I don’t know if we’re happy or just successful. Sometimes I think back to before … and miss what we had.”

What he’d had wasn’t enough. “He can give you so much more.”

“It’s not just about that. I know you think it is. But it didn’t seem as though we were getting anywhere. I felt—” She stood up and paced. “Stalled. In neutral.” Her hair swayed as she walked.

“And now you’re getting somewhere.”

“I am. But …”

“It’s not making you happy?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. Put it in perspective for me, Smith, with that logical mind of yours. Make sense of it.”

“You don’t need me for that. You’ve always known exactly what you wanted.”

She sank into her chair. “Everything is going right, just the way I planned it, and yet … there’s a nagging thought that won’t go away.” She speared him with a stare. “Ed is, well, we fit together in so many ways, yet … I don’t know that I can trust him.”

“In what?”

“I can’t really say. It’s a feeling sometimes. Maybe he’s too good a politician, always having a ready answer.”

“Is he cheating on you?” It was in his bag of tricks. And hers. They’d gone behind his back at least two months before she’d broken off.

“Of course not. No, I didn’t mean that. I don’t know what I meant. Sometimes success is scary, I think.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

Her smile had more sadness in it than it should have. “I’m so glad there’s no rancor between us.”

He swallowed. “What would be the point?”

“Exactly. You’re so level, Smith.”

What did that mean? No drive, no upward momentum?

“Just seeing you, talking like this. It’s really nice.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “And it sounds like you’re doing well too. This big project and potentially more for the same client.”

“Potentially.”

“I’m happy for you. Finally someone recognizes your talent. I knew it would come.”

“Did you.”

“And bringing Bair along. After everything. So thoughtful.”

“He’ll make a good architect and benefit the firm.”

“You always think the best of people.”

Not always. Sometimes he thought the opposite. Sometimes he was right.

“Oh, Smith, it’s so nice to see you. You look wonderful.”

His chest tightened. “So do you.”

She looked at her watch. “Do you want to have dinner? I have so many stories to tell you.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” He stood up.

“It’s so last minute, I know. Maybe another time, with advance notice. I’d love to catch up.”

He needed to see that Tessa was all right, though odds were next to none for that. There’d be damage control to be done.

“Let’s not let it go so long next time.”

Reaching for the door, he smiled. “Brace yourself. The wind’s kicked up. It’s getting ready to rain.”

She chucked his chin. “Always looking out for me.” Her hand settled on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re in my life.”

That was his cue to lean in and kiss her. He would have, too, if not for Tessa. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking it, but he could resist acting on it. Danae, it seemed, could not. She kissed his mouth. He’d given her no reason not to, except for the reason she’d given herself—Edward.

There might be grim satisfaction in doing unto Edward as he had done unto him, but Smith would regret it. He stepped back.

“I’m sorry.” She smiled limply. “Old habits die hard.”

They did. He held her upturned gaze. “I hope you beat the storm.”

“I like driving in the rain, remember?”

He nodded.

“I’ve been remembering the smallest things, like the way you hold your pencil.” She laughed.

“What’s wrong with how I hold my pencil?”

“Nothing. It’s just … a funny thing to remember, don’t you think?”

If there was a message there, he missed it. She had not asked about Tessa, nor explained why she would drive all the way down for no clear purpose. Just more of what had frustrated him before. He was no doubt expected to read between the lines, but once again she had baffled him.

He opened the door, and she went through. Though he’d be heading out to find Tessa, he didn’t step out with Danae. Walking her to the car would only prolong the leave-taking, and the longer he took now, the more explaining he’d have later.

She caught her hair at the nape as she walked through the wind to her Lexus. He had always previously gotten her door, but it would offer another chance to kiss, and some old habits had to die, hard or otherwise. He waved and closed the door, waited until he heard her drive away, then prepared himself for the trial to come.

CHAPTER

26

After severing multiple root crowns along the lengths of vine, Tessa put down the tools. Work was not going to stop the disappointment. The longer Smith stayed in the trailer with Danae, the worse it got. She didn’t blame him for being loyal, as Bair had said. He might even still be in love with her.

How often did the chance come to have someone you’d lost back again? If Danae wanted to try, would he? Her diaphragm contracted. She had overreacted to the phone call, but this—what woman drove hours to see her ex-boyfriend? One who still cared, still loved him. She should be happy for them. Why should she be surprised? After six years, the sound of his voice had brought her to his side.

Tessa stood up and stretched her back. She needed to calm down before Smith joined her. They would still have to work together, and she did not want him to feel bad or worry about her. She could call Dr. Brenner, have him talk her through the emotions, but Smith had asked her not to use that as a first course.