Tess Gerritsen: In Their Footsteps

“Not so fine.” Jordan straightened and looked the other man in the eye. “Why did you walk out?”

Sighing, Richard looked off in the direction of Chetwynd. “She asked me to.”

“What?” Jordan stared at him in bewilderment. “She never told me-”

“She’s a Tavistock, like you. Doesn’t believe in whining or complaining. Or losing face. It’s that pride of hers.”

“Ah, so it was like that, was it?” Jordan said. “An argument?”

“Not even that. It just seemed, with all those differences between us…” He shook his head and laughed. “Face it, Jordan. She’s tea and crumpets, I’m coffee and doughnuts. She’d hate it in Washington. And I’m not sure I could adjust to…this.” He gestured to the rolling fields of Chetwynd.

But you will adjust, foresaw Jordan. And so will she. Because it’s plain for any idiot to see that you two belong together.

“Anyway,” said Richard, “when Niki called and reminded me we had a job in New Delhi, Beryl told me to go. She thought it would be a good test for us to be apart for a while. Said the Royal Family does it that way. To see if absence makes the heart-and hormones-forget.”

“And does it?”

Richard grinned. “Not a chance,” he said, and climbed back into his car. “I may be signing up with your wild and crazy family, after all. Any objections?”

“None,” said Jordan. “But I will offer a bit of advice. That is, if you two expect to share a long and healthy life together.”

“What’s the advice?”

“Shoot the horse.”

Laughing, Richard let out the brake and sped away toward Chetwynd.

Toward Beryl.

As Jordan watched the MG vanish around the bend, he thought, Good luck to you, little sister. I’m glad one of us has finally found someone to love. Now if only I could be so fortunate…

He turned to Froggie. “And as for you,” he said aloud, “I am about to teach you exactly who’s boss around here.”

Froggie gave a snort. Then, with a triumphant toss of her mane, she turned and galloped away, riderless, toward Chetwynd.

“It’s quite unlike you to be brooding this way,” said Uncle Hugh as he picked another tomato and set it in his basket. He looked faintly ridiculous in his floppy gardening hat. More like the groundskeeper than the lord of the manor. Crouching on his knees, he uncovered another bright red globe and carefully plucked the treasure. “Don’t know why you’re so gloomy these days. After all, the leg’s almost healed.”

“It’s not the leg,” said Beryl.

“One would think you were permanently crippled.”

“It’s not the leg.”

“Well, what is it, then?” asked Hugh, moving on to the row of pole beans. Suddenly he stopped and glanced back at her. “Oh, it’s him, isn’t it?”

Sighing, Beryl reached for her crutches and rose from the garden bench. “I don’t wish to discuss it.”

“You never do.”

“I still don’t,” she said, and stubbornly headed down the brick path toward the maze. She brushed past the edging of lavender, stirring the scents of the late summer garden. Once they’d walked this path together, she thought. And now she was walking it alone.

She entered the maze and, using her crutches, maneuvered around all the secret twists and turns. At last she emerged at the center and sat down on the stone bench. Yes, I’m brooding again, she realized. Uncle Hugh’s right. Have to stop this and get on with my life.

But first, she would have to stop thinking of him. Had he stopped thinking of her? All the doubts, the fears, came back to assail her. She’d put him to the test, she thought. And he’d failed it.

From a distance, she heard someone call her name. It was so faint at first, she thought she might have imagined it. But there it was again-moving closer now!

She lurched to her feet, wobbling on the crutches. “Richard?”

“Beryl?” came the answering shout. “Where are you?”

“In the maze!”

His footsteps moved closer along the path. “Where?”

“The center!”

Through the high hedge walls, she heard his sheepish laughter. “And now I’m expected to find my way to the cheese?”

“Just think of it,” she challenged him, “as a test of true love.”

“Or true insanity,” he muttered, rustling into the maze.

“I’m quite annoyed with you, you know,” she called.

“I think I’ve noticed.”

“You didn’t write. You didn’t call, not once!”

“I was too busy trying to catch planes back to London. And besides, I wanted you to miss me. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You didn’t?”

“Not at all.” She bit her lip. “Oh, perhaps a bit…”

“Ah, so you did miss me-”

“But not much.”

“I missed you. ”

She paused. “Did you?” she asked softly.

“So much, in fact, that if I don’t find the bloody center of this bloody maze pretty damn quick, I’m going to-”

“Going to what?” she asked breathlessly.

A rustle of branches made her turn. Suddenly he was there beside her, pulling her into his arms, covering her mouth with a kiss so deep, so insistent, she felt herself swaying dizzily. The crutches slipped away and fell to the ground. She didn’t need them-not when he was there to hold her.

He drew away and smiled at her. “Hello again, Miss Tavistock,” he whispered.

“You came back,” she murmured. “You really came back.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Does that mean you’ve thought about it? About us?”

He laughed. “I could scarcely concentrate on anything else. On the job, the client. Finally I had to call in Niki to pinch-hit for me, while I straighten out this mess with you.”

She asked softly, “You think it can be straightened out?”

Gently he framed her face with his hands. “I don’t know. Some folks would probably call us a long shot.”

“And they’d be right. There are so many things that could pull us apart…”

“And just as many things that will keep us together.” He lowered his face to hers, gently brushed her lips with his. “I confess, I’ll never make a proper gentleman. Cricket’s not my bag. And you’ll have to put a gun to my head to get me up on a horse. But if you’re willing to overlook those terrible flaws…”

She threw her arms around his neck. “What flaws?” she whispered, and their lips met again.

From the distance came the peal of the ancient church bells. Six o’clock. The coming of twilight and shadows, sweetly scented. And love, thought Beryl as he pulled her, laughing, into his arms.

Quite definitely, love.