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Margaret Allison – At Any Price (страница 8)

18

Jack walked through the arched gates of the cemetery, carrying three bouquets of red roses. The temperature had dropped sharply and the rain had turned to snow. Several inches were already on the ground. Jack glanced around, admiring the familiar landscape. The cemetery seemed to be the only place in Newport Falls that was just as he remembered. Beautiful, yet desolate.

He stepped over the withered, barren rosebushes and made his way over to where his father was buried. Jack had been here several times to pay respects, though the visits were never pleasant. It wasn’t just his father’s death that saddened him, but his life. His father had been an alcoholic for as long as Jack could remember. His life had been a graveyard of missed opportunities.

Jack’s father had never recovered from the loss of the woman he loved so dearly. He tried at first, attempting to reclaim his sanity by dropping out of college and returning to Newport Falls. But even old friends couldn’t save him from the guilt. Stalked by invisible demons, he found solace only in alcohol. Jack couldn’t remember a time when his father was employed. Nor could he remember his father ever showing any tenderness toward him. Jack had grown up fast, forced to fend not only for himself, but many times, for his father, as well. Jack had been determined to make the town proud of him, determined that his fate would be different than his father’s. He wouldn’t allow himself to be destroyed by love. But it seemed the harder he tried to escape, the more furiously fate pursued him.

When Katie had married Matt, Jack had found escape from his pain not through the bottle, but work. He went to Yale for his MBA. He was willing to work longer, harder than anyone else. And his determination paid off. In a business built on family contacts, Jack climbed his way up the ladder the old-fashioned way, rung by rung.

Jack wished he had known his father better. He wished he could talk to him, tell him that he now understood the pain. He now understood why his father shut himself off from the world. Shut himself off from his only child.

Jack placed one bouquet of red roses on his father’s grave and stood up, brushing the snow off his pants. But he wasn’t ready to leave. He walked toward the old oak tree where the Devonworths were buried.

At first he had trouble finding their graves. The snow was falling faster now, sticking to the ground in fat, white clumps. But he persevered, brushing the snow off the tombstones until he found their matching white ones. Jack had known they would not have anything elaborate, anything that drew attention to the spot. They were plain, simple people in life, and he knew that was the way they wanted to be remembered.

As Jack placed the remaining roses on their grave, he felt a rush of emotion. The Devonworths always stood behind him. No matter what was happening at home, he could always count on them for support. They had welcomed him into their home for meals and holidays, always treating him with love and respect.

He would’ve liked to repay their kindness. To promise them that he would do his best to take care of their daughter. But it was too late for promises.

He turned to leave. He had a terrible task to deal with today. On some level he had known from the moment Katie had asked him for money that his company could not invest. Yet he had convinced himself that perhaps things had changed, perhaps The Falls was not the simple paper he remembered. He’d been kidding himself, and instead of just leaving after his meetings yesterday, he had extended his visit. Why? Because of some lingering sentiment toward Katie. But he couldn’t help her. He doubted anyone could. It didn’t matter what reporters she had working for her. It didn’t matter how many awards they won or what syndicated columns Katie could pick up.

A paper in a dying town was a losing investment.

“Jack?”

At first he thought he was imagining things. But there she was, underneath the cemetery’s arched gates. “Katie,” he breathed.

She walked toward him. Snowflakes had attached to her long lashes. The ends of her red scarf, wrapped around her slender neck, blew sideways in the wind. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I wanted to talk to you. Away from the office.”

“But how did you know I’d be here?”

“You haven’t been back in years. What other business could you possibly have?”

He smiled. “Good work, detective.”

He glanced at the entranceway, and his smile evaporated as he recognized Katie’s bike parked outside. The thought of her riding her bike five miles in a snowstorm was like an ice pick going through his heart. He asked, “What was so important that it couldn’t wait?”

“I needed to apologize. You came back here to help me and I’ve had a chip on my shoulder ever since you arrived.”

Once again Jack thought of her parents buried behind him. Katie had lost her parents, her husband, and was about to lose the only other thing that mattered to her—her paper. She had been dealing with this all alone because he had hung her out to dry. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” She looked at him and her eyes welled with tears. Instinct took over and he wrapped his arms around her. “Hey,” he said, “it’s me, Jack. There’s no need for apologies. I’m the one who owes you an apology.”

She seemed so light, almost ethereal. He wanted to hold her and protect her from the world. Suddenly, he didn’t think he could ever let go.

But Katie seemed to feel differently. She stiffened slightly, as if uncomfortable with his touch. He dropped his arms, and she stepped back from him.

He couldn’t blame her. What kind of a friend had he been? “You have every reason to be angry with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I should’ve come back for your mother’s funeral. I’m sorry. And I should’ve called when I heard you and Matt were getting divorced.”

“I don’t blame you,” she said. She shrugged and tucked her gloved hands in her pockets. “You were busy.”

“No,” Jack said. “That’s no excuse. It was… There were other reasons.” Selfish ones, he wanted to say. He could not forgive her for marrying Matt.

Katie glanced down at the ground. “I know it’s hard for you to come back here,” she said. “If I was you, I don’t know if I would want to come back to Newport Falls, either. I just… Well, I know your dad was very proud of you, Jack. He loved you.” Her eyes met his. “And so did…everyone else.”

“Your parents were always kind to me,” he said.

At the mention of her mother and father, she glanced toward the old oak tree. She could see the red flowers already dusted with snow. Surprised, she said, “You brought flowers?”

Jack nodded.

Still looking at her parents’ graves, she said, “I’m almost glad they’re not here to see what’s happening to the paper. It would break their hearts.”

What would break their hearts, Jack thought, was their daughter’s unhappiness. Jack took a step toward her, reaching out a gloved hand to touch her face.

This time she did not move away. Her eyes closed and her head seemed to melt into his hand. She touched his fingers, holding them to her cheek. Desire for her flooded his every muscle and vein. This is Katie, he reminded himself. She married your best friend….

She lifted her head slightly. For once, Jack ignored the voice in his head. His need for her was too overwhelming.

He crashed back through time. She was Katie, his Katie, and she was close enough to kiss. He leaned forward.

Just then, her bicycle fell, clanging against the steel gate of the cemetery. Jack jumped, like a thief caught approaching a vault.

Katie stood still, staring at him with her big brown eyes.

What in the hell was he doing? Had he lost his mind? Katie shows a little kindness and he’s ready to jump in the sack?

Because that was all it was. Wasn’t it? He wasn’t interested in anything more than a physical relationship. As he always joked, he was already married—to his job. He didn’t have the time nor the desire to fall in love.

Especially with Katie. He had already made that mistake.

Jack cleared his throat. One thing was clear. He needed to take care of business and get the hell out. Before he did something he regretted. He turned and walked over to her bike. With one hand, he lifted it to his shoulder and nodded toward his car. “We better get back to your office if I’m going to meet with those reporters.” He glanced at his watch. “I only have a little bit of time before I have to leave.” He didn’t trust himself to be around Katie Devonworth any longer than necessary.

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