Cate didn’t like to lie. Yet she knew the truth would provoke a storm of accusations. “I haven’t seen him,” she answered, telling herself it was accurate in a sense. It had been dark in her side yard the previous night. She’d barely glimpsed Danny even as she’d surrendered to the heat of his kisses.
“And when you do,” her father demanded harshly, “I trust you won’t give him the key to the candy store again. You’re a grown woman now, a mother with a teenage son who looks to you as a model for his behavior.”
Brian was her Achilles heel. And her father knew it. She would never willingly do anything to hurt him. Or, for that matter, her in-laws.
“As for Larry’s parents,” Jack McDonough added, with his uncanny talent for drawing a bead on her vulnerabilities, “they’d be mortified if you tarnished their son’s memory by having an affair with the man who’s going to close down Beckwith’s only industry and put Beverly Anderson—not to mention your own father—out of a job. You know, don’t you, that if you let passion rule and allow him to have his way with you, he’ll just dump you again? Maybe not with a baby in your belly this time. But most certainly with egg on your face.”
Briefly, Cate’s wish to tell her father what she thought of him, knew no bounds. Yet by now she was expert at swallowing the invective he continued to hurl in her direction. “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, Dad?” she asked, her tone barely hinting at the sarcasm that had dripped in his. “I haven’t invited Danny to any sleepovers. Nor do I plan to do anything so rash. No one cares more about Brian’s welfare than I do. Not you, Mom or the Andersons, though they love him very much. I’d never do anything that could hurt him.”
“Are you insinuating we don’t love him?” he retorted.
Empty of talk, their telephone connection seemed to vibrate with hostility for a moment. With a sigh, Cate dismounted her high horse and did her best to placate her father. As always, eager to satisfy his morning hunger with a hearty breakfast, Brian would be breezing into the kitchen at any moment.
“Look, Dad,” she said. “I know this is a bad time for you. That if the plant shuts down, it’ll be like losing the hardware store all over again…”
“You’re damn right it will!” His voice broke, as if he’d abruptly found himself at the point of tears. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when Ben Overton called yesterday’s meeting and Danny Finn walked in, in the role of visiting executive from Mercator,” he added in a low voice.
“Did he say whether or not he’s going to keep the factory open?” Cate asked, hoping to steer the conversation toward the fate of Beckwith Tool and Die and away from Danny personally.
Her father grunted, recovering himself. “He mentioned something about taking stock. Seeing how the plant operates in its current incarnation.”
“That doesn’t sound as if he’s made his mind up yet.”
“Don’t you get it, girl?” Rage, gut-deep fear and a naked anguish poured from the receiver. “The Finn boy hates me,” her father said. “Maybe even more than I hate him. Whether or not he decides to keep the plant open, revamp and modernize it, he’ll fire me, sure. I’m just eight months short of the ten-year mark for receiving minimum retirement benefits. And I’m going to lose them. Thanks to the store going under ten years ago, through no fault of our own, your mother and I will have little more than a pittance to live on in our old age.…”
Cate got the impression that if she repelled any and all overtures from Danny, it would help him feel better somehow. She didn’t know how to answer him. Can this actually be happening? she wondered. Mom and Dad broke my heart when they pushed Danny out of my life, and now that deed has come back to haunt them. She tried to tell herself that surely the Danny she’d known wouldn’t have come back disposed to take his revenge out on them. Instead he’d be fair to them, despite past hurts.
Yet she was far from certain that would be the case. Danny’s treatment at her parents’ hands had been abominable, even in light of their rage at him for compromising their daughter. His abandonment of her—something she wouldn’t have thought possible until it had occurred—argued that, like Jack and Susan McDonough, he’d walked away from the Clermont County Sheriff’s Office that awful night in anger.
Brian chose that moment to saunter into the kitchen in impossibly baggy jeans, one of his oldest T-shirts and an oversize pullover sweater than had seen better days. His uncombed hair stood up in damp, dark-and-bleached-blond points. “Is breakfast ready?” he asked. “I wanna go over early and do some warm-ups.”
Cate pointed at the covered plate. “Help yourself, sweetheart. There’s warm syrup in that pan on the stove. And more orange juice in the pitcher. If you want, I can make you some hot chocolate.”
Her son shook his head. “Thanks. I don’t need it. Is that Gramps on the phone? Are he and Gram coming to the game?”
“Gramps” and “Gram” were Russ and Beverly Anderson. If he was feeling up to it, Bev brought Russ to Brian’s games in his wheelchair.
“No, it’s Grandpa Jack,” Cate said. “Want to talk to him?”
Brian shook his head. Grinned. “Not right now,” he said, digging into a stack of pancakes like a steam shovel. “I’m in a hurry.”
Her parents seldom attended school sporting events despite the fact that Brian had participated in them from the beginning of his freshman year. Cate’s mouth curved in a faint, ironic smile. It seemed Brian had their number, too. “Listen, Dad,” she said into the receiver. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to eat breakfast with Brian and take him over to school early so he can warm up. If you want, we can talk some more about this later. Try to come up with a way of handling it.”
Stony silence greeted her suggestion. Clearly, her father thought she was offering to intercede with Danny on his behalf and didn’t like the sound of it. “Don’t worry your head about us, miss,” he said brusquely after a moment. “Your mother and I will make it, even if he puts me out onto the street and ruins us financially. It’s you I’m worried about. He was trouble for you before, and he’ll be trouble for you again if you’re fool enough to let him get within a two-block radius.”
At the game Brian caught a twenty-five-yard pass and scored a crucial touchdown, putting Beckwith High in the lead with less than three minutes to go in the fourth quarter. The home crowd went crazy. Seated next to Brenda, Cate rocketed to her feet, screaming her approval. Her best friend did likewise. They were still waving pom-poms with Beckwith’s maroon-and-gold school colors and cheering for the lad who’d successfully kicked the extra point, when suddenly Cate spotted Danny.
He was standing below and to her right, near the sidelines, kibitzing with one of his former classmates who worked part-time for Beckwith High as an assistant coach. Tall, lean and dark-haired with an easy curve to his mouth, the kind of man movie cameras would love and any woman would adore, Danny was wearing faded jeans, running shoes and an expensive-looking tan parka. His hands were thrust into his pockets as if for warmth. Oh, my God, Cate thought, going hot and cold all over. When did he arrive? Has he seen me yet? I can’t bear to face him here, with the whole town watching!
As if he felt her gaze on him like a brush against his sleeve, Danny turned and glanced up, unerringly picking her out of the crowd. Briefly she thought she would lose her balance. He’s been watching me without my knowing it, she realized, steadying herself. Knowing this time, people will have noticed. And started to gossip. I’ve got to get out of here before I’m forced into a confrontation. Fortunately the game was almost over. Thanks to several bungled plays, Beckwith’s opponents didn’t have a chance.
“Brenda,” she told her friend hastily, breaking off visual contact with him, “I’ve got to leave. Now. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Hold