The Wrong Man Read online

“Should she remain in your class?”

  Libby panicked. She thought that issue had been settled. “Why not?”

  “Can you be objective about her? How will it affect her if your relationship with her father doesn’t work out? Or if it does? Are we asking too much of a seven-year-old?”

  She shouldn’t have been surprised, Libby realized. Mary was only giving voice to questions Libby herself had tried, unsuccessfully, to squelch. “I want only the best for Kylie.”

  “She’s quite attached to you.”

  “I know, but with everything else changing in her life, I believe it would be counterproductive to move her to John’s class. That being said, I realize I must treat her like any other student. I hope you’ll let me keep her.”

  “I trust your judgment. However, I would caution you that she has already known too much pain and loss in her young life. She doesn’t need any more.”

  Thinking of her own childhood, Libby nodded. “No one knows that better than I do.”

  “All right then.” When Mary stood, Libby, too, rose to her feet.

  “About Doug—”

  Mary waved her off. “Nothing more needs to be said except that I appreciate your honesty and want to assure you this will not affect our relationship.”

  On her way back to her classroom, Libby reflected on Mary’s words. Doug’s mother was a generous woman, but in her heart, Libby knew the close bonds she’d had with the family had been severed.

  The depth of Libby’s hurt came as no surprise. The Traverses had represented her dream family. She hoped in choosing Trent she hadn’t made a life-altering mistake.

  TRENT SHOULD HAVE guessed. In a brief call to give Libby a heads-up about the arrival of the Chisholms, he discovered Kylie had beat him to the punch. He tried to reassure Libby, but he was far from confident himself about the upcoming discussion.

  After dinner he bundled Kylie up to drop her at Weezer’s on his way to the Alpine Lodge. “Why can’t I see Grandma Georgia and Grandpa Gus tonight?”

  “They’re tired. Don’t worry, they’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

  “But why do they want to see you and not me?”

  “Grown-up stuff.”

  “Like maybe about the wedding, huh?”

  Trent stifled a groan. “Sweetie, you can’t jump to conclusions like this.”

  “That’s what Miss Cameron said.”

  Much as Trent didn’t want to hear that Libby had her doubts about their future, he was grateful he didn’t have to go into further detail. “She’s right.”

  “I can’t wait for Grandma and Grandpa to meet her. I ’spect they’ll really love her, don’t you?”

  “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  Weezer and Scout met them at the door. Weezer already had the card table set up for Chinese checkers, so Kylie happily waved goodbye and he was off for the meeting that had him as apprehensive as losing a trail map in the wilderness.

  The Alpine Lodge, situated on a rise above the road, was illuminated by spotlights aimed at its inviting Tyrolean facade. Mountain “posh” was how Chad described it. The thick woven rugs overlaying the polished pine flooring and the expensive leather furniture in the lobby discreetly suggested both a sense of luxury and welcome, but all Trent could focus on was whether the reception he would get from the Chisholms would be remotely as warm.

  After checking with the desk clerk, who phoned their room to announce him, he trudged up the wide wooden stairs leading to the second floor. He didn’t want trouble. Yet he suspected that was exactly what he was walking into.

  Gus answered his knock. “Come in, Trent.”

  Georgia, dressed in a white wool pantsuit with a lavender blouse, perched on the edge of an armchair, worrying her gold necklace with manicured fingertips. She acknowledged his presence with a cursory nod.

  Her husband, however, embraced Trent warmly. “How you been doing, son?”

  “No complaints.”

  Gus took him by the arm and led him to the love seat. “Drink?”

  “Nothing for me,” Trent said, sitting down.

  Gus drew up a desk chair beside the love seat, the three of them forming a conversational triangle. Trent was uncomfortably aware of the symbolism—his back was against the wall.

  “Who’s with Kylie?” Georgia asked, her tone critical.

  Did she think under these circumstances he’d leave her with Libby? “She’s at my friend Weezer’s.”

  “Weezer?” Georgia’s lips curled. “What kind of name is that?”

  Trent didn’t go into detail. “Short for Louise. She’s a woman I’ve known since I was a kid. We’re renting her guest cabin temporarily.”

  “Does Kylie get along with her?” Gus asked.

  “Yes.”

  A disconcerting silence fell, broken finally by Gus. “Georgia told you why we’re here, I guess.”

  Trent nodded. His former mother-in-law’s expression remained frozen.

  “You can understand how shocked we were when Kylie told us you were getting married,” Gus said.

  “Let me clarify something. I have no wedding plans.”

  Georgia spoke up. “Then why would Kylie make such a statement?”

  “She’s a child. She thinks all she has to do is wish something for it to come true.”

  “Why would she wish such a thing?”

  Trent considered his answer. How much could he tell them? Would they understand any of it? “She misses her mother. She sees my unhappiness. Maybe she wants to fix things for us.”

  “Fix things? By marrying your former wife?” Georgia turned glacial eyes on him. “Have you forgotten Ashley so soon? And do you want Kylie to forget her?”

  “No, Georgia, I haven’t forgotten Ashley. Quite the contrary. I think of her every day and will always be grateful she agreed to marry me. I know you didn’t think I had much to offer her, at least not in a materialistic sense. But I loved her. I was happy with her. And with Kylie. There is no danger, either, that Kylie will forget Ashley. She talks about her all the time.”

  Gus’s question was direct. “Then help us out here. Why pursue this woman?”

  Trent rubbed his hands together before beginning. “I have a lifetime stretching out in front of me. I have a daughter I love more than anything. I want her happiness. Grieving is a long, sad business. There comes a point where you have to move on. That doesn’t mean either of us will ever forget Ashley, it just means we can’t live forever in a state of mourning. So, why Libby Cameron? I could flip the question around and say, ‘Why not her?’”

  Needing desperately to move, Trent rose to his feet and walked to the small corner bar, where he paused, before turning to give them his answer. “Libby is a warm, caring person with a generous nature. Kylie was drawn to her as a teacher before she learned we had been married. For reasons I won’t go into, I disappointed Libby big-time when we were married.” He paused, forcing himself to ignore Georgia’s audible sniff of censure. “We were both young, insecure in our own ways. But I loved her. I have a chance to love her again, and we’ve agreed to see where our relationship leads.”

  Georgia averted her gaze, but Gus now stood, his eyes full of pain. “You have no idea how difficult this is for us.”

  “No, sir, I can only imagine. All I can do is assure you that we will remember Ashley as long as we live.”

  “It’s too soon,” Georgia managed to say in a strangled voice.

  Gently Trent asked, “When would be the right time?”

  She looked up at him then, tears making her mascara run. All she could do was shrug.

  Gus crossed to his wife and laid a hand on her shoulder. “We care about you, son. And we’re nuts about Kylie. Your remarrying would change everything.”

  Trent drew a deep breath. “Nothing has happened yet. But if it does, I want you to be just as involved with Kylie and with Libby and me as you choose to be.”

  “That’s asking a lot, son.”

  Trent nodded in agreement
. “I’m aware of that. But you haven’t met Libby. I’d like you to. She might change your mind.”

  “I don’t like the idea of my granddaughter having a stepmother,” Georgia said.

  “You’d rather have her be with just me? She needs a family.”

  “She has one. Us.”

  Trent poked his hands in his pockets to conceal his doubled fists. “Won’t you meet Libby? Please.” When Georgia chose not to look at him, he turned to Gus. “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”

  Gus removed his hand from his wife’s shoulder. “This thing you have with, uh, Libby, it’s important to you?”

  “Very. And to Kylie.”

  “Georgia?” The woman continued staring at the wall. “Honey, Trent’s not rushing into anything. What would be the harm of meeting Miss Cameron?”

  “For Kylie’s sake?” Trent added.

  When the older woman finally turned to him, Trent read the resignation there. “If we must.”

  As concessions went, it was darned feeble, but Trent was ready to clutch at any straw. Kylie had so little family, the last thing he wanted was to alienate the Chisholms. Well, not quite the last thing. That would be to give up Libby.

  “Okay, then. I’ll set up a time when we can all get together. I’d like Kylie to be there so you can see how much she likes Libby.”

  Georgia remained seated, dwarfed by the protruding arms of the chair. Gus walked Trent out, then stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him. “Son, this is damn awkward.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve caused you and Georgia such concern.”

  Gus nodded toward the closed door. “It’s more her than me. She had a rough enough time with Ashley’s death. Now she’s afraid she’ll lose Kylie to this woman.”

  “I don’t think that will happen. Libby knows the value of family. She would never want to come between Kylie and you two.”

  “You’re determined?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “All right then. I’ll do my best to keep an open mind, but I can’t promise anything about Georgia.”

  Trent extended his hand. “Fair enough.”

  They were not bad people, Trent thought as he drove slowly toward Weezer’s. In fact, Gus was the closest thing he had ever had to a father figure in his life. He appreciated Gus’s willingness to give Libby a chance, but by setting up this meeting, had he placed too great a burden on Libby too soon into their renewed relationship? Georgia would not be easily won over, nor was he prepared to tolerate any rudeness on her part. And who was right in the middle of it? Kylie.

  A simple courtship was suddenly turning into a negotiated truce. Not exactly the most romantic development.

  SATURDAY WAS a gorgeous day. When Lois called and invited Libby to join her for a workout, she quickly agreed. The past week’s turmoil had tied her into knots.

  At the gym Libby spent half an hour on the stationary bicycle, then another twenty minutes on the treadmill. Finally she slowed the speed to a walk, then wiped her forehead, content in the knowledge she’d challenged her body to the max. When she turned off the machine Lois motioned her over to the weights. “More?”

  Lois grinned. “I’m a hard taskmaster.”

  “No kidding?” Libby bantered sarcastically.

  “C’mon, Cameron, you’re up to it.”

  So for fifteen more minutes they lifted weights until Libby’s arms felt like overcooked spaghetti.

  “You did great, girlfriend,” Lois said as she mercifully removed the weights and stored them away. “You deserve a treat.”

  “At the very least.”

  After they cooled down and put on their coats, Lois linked her arm through Libby’s and led her across the street to a small coffee bar. “Cappuccino’s on me.”

  “Good. I want the giant size.”

  “Getting back at me for torturing you?”

  “Something like that.”

  Other than at school, Libby realized she hadn’t seen much of Lois lately. And not since that day after church had they done anything together, just the two of them.

  Lois returned from the counter with steaming mugs. “Here,” she said, setting one at Libby’s place. “Consider this my peace offering.”

  Libby grinned. “Honesty compels me to tell you that I feel better now than I have in weeks. The exercise did me good.”

  “Great. You’ve looked strung out the last couple or three days.”

  “Trust a friend to tell you the bitter truth.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  Libby knew she could avoid the question with a teasing retort, but she needed an objective perspective on her situation, and who better than Lois? She nodded. “Several, starting with the fact that I broke things off with Doug.”

  “You did?” Her friend seemed genuinely surprised. “I knew with your ex back in town, things were bound to get complicated, but you’re crazy about all the Traverses.”

  “That’s just it. I like them all, but I can’t seem to fall in love with Doug. Heaven knows, I’ve tried.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “How else? Like the gentleman he is. But I’m pretty sure I hurt him.” Libby sipped the cappuccino through the froth of whipped cream.

  “Oh, honey, that’s better than finding out later that you’ve made a mistake.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Except for New Age music playing on the store sound system and several distant, muffled conversations, quiet reigned. “I think I need to talk about Trent,” Libby finally said, looking down into the depths of her mug.

  “I’m listening.”

  That was all Lois said, but it was enough. In no coherent order, Libby recounted the times she and Trent had been together and the rekindling of her feelings for him. About his caring for Kylie so responsibly and lovingly. About the ways in which he seemed to have matured. But also about her fears that he might disappoint her again.

  When she wound down, Lois spoke. “I’m not one to pry, but you’ve never told me exactly why you divorced Trent in the first place.”

  “Incompatibility?” Libby voiced it as a question, hoping that would be enough, yet knowing she needed to confess the rest.

  “I’m not buying it,” Lois said. “Not after seeing the sparkle in your eye whenever you mention the man’s name.”

  Libby felt her face flush. “I can’t seem to help myself. I want to believe he’s changed.”

  “What does that mean?”

  The moment had come to trust Lois completely.

  “When we were married, I had unrealistic notions of what a husband should be like. Trent was full of life and adventure. I loved that about him. It seemed very masculine. But I also wanted him with me. I pictured us as devoted parents with lots of babies. So I was ecstatic when I found out I was pregnant.” She stopped, unwilling to go on.

  “And Trent?”

  “He was young. Fatherhood was pretty overwhelming for him. He couldn’t get into the idea. That hurt me. All my life I had wanted children. Growing up, that’s all I dreamed about. My father’s plane crashed when I was an infant and Mother died when I was six. The only parent I had, if you could call him that, was the senator.”

  Apparently picking up on her bitterness, Lois held up a hand to interject a comment. “I’ve noticed you have difficulty even referring to him as a stepfather.”

  Libby hung her head. “He tolerated me, provided for me, but he didn’t love me. I’m not even sure he liked me.”

  “Hmm. Trent had pretty big shoes to fill.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Perfect husband. Perfect father.”

  Nodding sadly, Libby looked at her friend. “With four words, you’ve gotten at the root of the problem. I expected Trent to make it all up to me, didn’t I? To be the ideal loving husband, who would father the beautiful children that would make up our perfect family.”

  “So you were looking for Daddy.”

  Libby shook her head in wonder. “I guess
I was. What an impossible expectation to lay on a twenty-two-year-old man.”

  “And he failed you?”

  “Or so I thought at the time.” Libby could no longer hold back. “We lost our baby. A miscarriage. I was convinced the world had come to an end, but Trent couldn’t understand why I was so upset.” She hesitated, unsure now if the memories she’d harbored for so long accurately reflected what had actually happened. “He said we could always have another baby.”

  “Couldn’t you have?”

  “I suppose. But that suggestion seemed so cold. So callous. As if he was dismissing the child that we’d lost.”

  “What makes you think he’s changed now?”

  Libby ran her finger around the rim of her cup, then sucked the residue of cream off her finger before answering. “Kylie.”

  Lois nodded. “She’s a remarkable little girl.”

  “And Trent adores her.”

  “So maybe he’s father material after all?”

  “I’m hoping so.”

  “Have the two of you talked about the child you lost?”

  “A little.”

  “Sounds as if some healing still needs to take place. Have you ever thought about a private memorial service for your child?”

  Startled, Libby looked up. “A what?”

  “For a long time people failed to realize the importance of memorializing children lost through miscarriage. Recently, though, the church has recognized that such unresolved grief can fester for years. A service is one way to acknowledge the loss and invite healing. You and Trent may want to consider that at some point.”

  Libby nodded slowly. “It makes sense. I have mourned our child ever since. I always will. A service…” She wondered whether it would make any difference. “I’ll think about it.”

  “It might prepare the way to celebrate a new pregnancy.”

  “Whoa!” Libby managed a smile. “You’re getting ahead of me there, but I would like children. A family.”

  “You would make a wonderful mother.” Lois wiped the table with her napkin and picked up her mug, but before she stood to leave, she added one final comment. “And stepmother.” Then she winked.

  “Race you back to the parking lot.”

  And, unbelievably, that’s exactly what they did, not caring if they were making fools of themselves. The air swooshed by, Libby’s feet flew over the ground, her breath came in short gasps but she didn’t care. She was free.