Love Lies Bleeding: A Novel Part 17
"Yes," she replied, staring at the bracelet. "After he left, we took a walk through the hills behind the house-through the woods. The leaves had turned, and I remember how beautiful and peaceful it was." She looked up at him. "We were so happy."
Jackson ran a finger over the tiny leaves. "When I saw this, it reminded me of that day." Placing a knuckle under her chin, he lifted it. "We can be that way again."
"I hope so."
"I know so. Now," he said, and gave her bottom a playful slap, "finish getting ready and let's go party."
She moved away from the mirror and headed toward the bedroom. Jackson followed.
"You surprise me," he said abruptly.
Sam halted. "How?"
"Your relationship with Anne. A short time ago, you didn't want her here, and now-"
"I thought you and Dad wanted me to cooperate," she interrupted.
"We do, but your turnaround is unexpected. Not that we aren't pleased, of course."
"Of course," she repeated, and continued to the bedroom. Jackson stopped at the doorway, watching her.
Sam went to the closet and removed her dress. Laying it out on the bed, she stole a glance at Jackson over her shoulder. "I know my change of heart seems abrupt, but Anne really is good at her job and she doesn't let me slide."
"That's good, I suppose."
Sam whirled in surprise. "You suppose?"
Jackson leaned against the door. "We weren't happy that she let you take that fall. Your father-"
She held up a hand, stopping him. "That wasn't her fault."
"She should've antic.i.p.ated what happened."
"Don't be silly," Sam scoffed, tightening the belt of her robe.
"And I'm sure your father is going to hold Anne responsible for your adopting that dog," he grumbled.
"Anne had nothing to do with it," Sam answered, tossing the rest of her clothes on the bed. "And Roxy isn't that dog-she has a name."
Jackson pushed away from the door and took a step. "You know, if your father does object to Roxy, it isn't too late to give her back. I know a breeder of cute little Pomeranians," he said hopefully.
"Like Marcy Crane's dog?"
Jackson missed the note of warning in Sam's voice. "Yes." Smiling, he took another step. "A dog like that might fit into our lifestyle better," he said, his attention moving to Roxy, lying on the bed.
Sitting down next to the dog, Sam laid a hand on her head. Roxy's tail beat the mattress. "Marcy's dog snarls and nips every time anyone gets close."
"And your dog doesn't?" he asked.
Catching the tone in Jackson's voice, Roxy lifted her head and stared at him for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she laid it back down and her eyes closed. Sam had the impression that the dog didn't think Jackson's comparison mattered. She agreed. Marcy's dog was aggressive, but Roxy barked only when someone surprised her, and she had never tried to bite.
Rising quickly, Sam felt her vision suddenly blur as black dots danced across her line of sight. Plopping down, she rubbed her forehead.
Jackson hurried to her side. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She let her hand fall and stood again, more slowly this time. "A dizzy spell. I'm okay now."
He stepped aside, allowing her to cross to the dresser. Opening the drawer containing her underclothes, she sighed. "Roxy's going to be fine. She'll quiet down, and once she gets over her nervousness around you, you're going to love her as much as I do."
Jackson eyed the dog skeptically.
With a shake of her head, Sam selected her underwear and moved back to the bed. Sinking down, she threw an arm over Roxy. "She makes me feel safe," she said defensively. "So safe that I didn't have nightmares last night."
Jackson strolled over to the nightstand and picked up Sam's bottle of medication. "Did you consider it might be the meds, and not the dog?"
"I know it's not the pills," she argued. "I forgot-" She slapped her hand over her mouth.
His eyes narrowed as he opened the bottle and, shaking them out in his hand, quickly counted them. "You haven't been taking them," he accused as he returned them to the bottle.
"I have a couple of times," Sam answered, stretching the truth. In reality, she hadn't taken one since the night she'd seen the woman on the dock.
"Samantha, your agreement with your father included taking you medication," he lectured.
"But I don't need them. And," she stressed, "they make me groggy."
Smacking the bottle back on the nightstand, Jackson frowned. "You can't simply stop taking them-your body needs to be weaned away from them." His frown deepened. "Otherwise, you'll suffer side effects."
"I haven't. If anything, I've felt better, stronger, and-"
"You will continue to take them until we have a chance to discuss this with Dr. Weissinger," he said in a firm voice.
Leaning over, Sam grabbed the bottle and, rising, moved to the dresser. Opening a drawer, she tossed the bottle in and shut it. "Okay, so I take the pills." Wanting to change the subject, she turned and leaned against the dresser. "Do you think you'll know anyone at the party tonight?"
"The Brightons. Maybe a few old faces from the summer I spent here as a teenager."
"How old were you?"
"Fifteen. It was the year before Mother died." He crossed the room and lifted the blinds. "I remember this cabin, actually. We stayed across the lake, down a bit from where Fritz lives."
"Really? Did you know the couple who lived here?"
Dropping the blinds, he turned and a sly smile stole across his face. "I didn't know them, but I remember the wife. She'd sunbathe every afternoon down on the dock." He hung his head sheepishly. "And put it this way, spotting her as I cruised by in my fishing boat was the high point of my day." He lifted his head and shrugged. "You know how teenage boys are."
Sam's thoughts shot to Teddy Brighton and the young men who'd hurt her. Unconsciously, her hand stole to the scar now covered by Alice's haircut and she felt a moment of anxiety. Yeah, she knew all about teenage boys.
Jackson noticed. "Has Anne mentioned her son?"
"No-no." Sam dropped her hand. "Why? Is there something I should know?"
Jackson shook his head as he glanced at the clock. "I'd better get changed," he said, crossing to the door. He stopped. "It was something Fritz said."
Sam's breath quickened. "What?"
"I guess the kid had been in some trouble while they lived in the Cities."
"Anne mentioned it," Sam said in a tight voice.
"Did she mention that he'd been picked up for possession?"
"Drugs? He was into drugs?"
Jackson lifted a shoulder. "I don't know if he was using, and Fritz did say that the kid was straight now." Pivoting, he caught the look on Sam's face and went to her quickly. He gathered her in a hug, and for once she didn't push him away. He placed a light kiss on the top of her head, his arms tightening.
"I'm sorry-I've frightened you," he murmured in her ear. "I spoke without thinking. Fritz said the kid was okay now." Releasing her, Jackson stood and looked down at her. "Really, I am pleased that you're getting along so well with Anne."
She looked up at him with doubt in her eyes.
"Darling," he said, bending and lifting her chin, "don't look so worried. Even if her son was still trouble, it's not like he has keys to the cabin."
Placing another kiss on her head, he turned and left the room, leaving Sam alone with Roxy.
Sam looked down to find the dog staring up at her with her head c.o.c.ked to one side. Leaning over, she threw her arms around Roxy's neck and exhaled slowly.
"You'll protect me, won't you?"
Chapter Seventeen.
Anne's eyes roamed the room. She'd never been at one of Fritz's parties as a guest, but she had worked at them before and knew how much emphasis he placed on details. Tonight was no different. His large living-room and dining-room area glowed with soft candlelight. The lilting notes of one of his favorite piano concertos floated under the buzz of voices. Large vases of fresh wildflowers dotted both rooms. And along one wall, there was a buffet table spread with appetizers. Two local high school girls circled the room bearing trays holding gla.s.ses of wine, iced tea, and lemonade. From where she stood, she could see bright paper lanterns strung along the deck railing. The whole atmosphere, both inside and out, was a study in casual elegance.
Anne fingered one of her tiny, gold hoop earrings and tried not to feel out of place. She didn't look out of place-she knew that. The tunic that Sam had insisted on buying her shimmered down her body in graceful folds and the white linen pants she'd dug out of the back of her closet still fit. She'd even worn makeup. Dropping her hand, she felt her lips curl in a small grin. When she'd exited her bedroom, Caleb had been so surprised at her appearance that he'd jokingly asked what she'd done with his mother. What a switch-for him to see her as a person and not just his mom.
Spying one of the girls approach a cl.u.s.ter of people, she watched as they took the beverages the girl offered without so much as a glance in her direction. To them, she was as much a part of the decor as the candles and flowers. And without Sam's interference, that would've been her. Instead of standing here, all dressed up and exchanging greetings with people she'd known for years, she'd have been as invisible to those people as the high school girl.
It was nice not just being a mother. It was nice not being invisible. And she had Sam to thank for it. Still, the thought troubled her. On the one hand, she did appreciate Sam's kindness, but on the other, she didn't want to feel beholden to her. In the past, she'd been the one doing favors for people. Having the roles reversed made her squirm.
Turning her head slightly, she looked over at Sam. The lavender dress and purple shawl set off the young woman's coloring perfectly and the sickly paleness of weeks ago was gone-banished by the hours Anne had forced her to spend outside. With her new haircut disguising some of the gauntness in her face, she'd also lost that brittle look she used to have.
It was clear to her that she wasn't the only one who'd noticed the change in Sam. Dr. Van Horn did, too. It was evident in his expression when he looked at her. Attentive and smiling-his condescending att.i.tude had disappeared. Anne's eyebrows knitted together. But maybe there was more to it than the way she looked on the outside. Sam had shown real s.p.u.n.k when she'd stood up to him about keeping Roxy, and the whole incident appeared to have given her confidence. Hopefully, that's what he was responding to.
Suddenly she was yanked out of her thoughts by a gasp and the sight of Sam's body turning rigid. Anne's gaze darted to what had caught Sam's attention. The Brightons had made their entrance, and not only was it Kimberly, Irene, and Ted Two, but they had Teddy in tow. Dressed in a casual sport shirt and pressed khakis, with a supercilious grin across his face, Teddy was nonchalantly gazing around the room while his parents and grandmother greeted a new arrival who was standing near the door. When his eyes found Sam, his grin dropped and he leaned close to his father. Too far away to hear his words, Anne watched Ted Two nod and, taking his mother by the arm, begin to lead the group straight toward them.
"Get me out of here," Sam hissed.
"Don't you dare turn and run," Anne replied, her voice stern. "You stand your ground."
"I can't."
Tugging on Sam's sleeve, Anne angled her body toward her. "Yes, you can. That little sociopath would like nothing better than to see your fear. Do not give him the pleasure."
Conflicting emotions shadowed Sam's face. Finally, she inhaled sharply and drew her shawl around her shoulders. Exhaling slowly, she lifted her chin and prepared to meet the enemy. Anne moved aside as the Brightons reached them.
Ted Two was the first to speak. "You must be Samantha Moore," he said, extending his hand. "It's nice to finally meet you." Turning, he drew his mother forward. "My mother, Irene, and my wife, Kimberly."
Smiling stiffly, Sam gave his hand a light shake and acknowledged each introduction with a quick nod, saying nothing and keeping her attention carefully centered on Teddy.
Stepping back, Ted Two threw an arm around his son's shoulder and maneuvered the boy until he stood directly in front of Sam.
Anne's breath caught while she waited for Sam's reaction, but instead of shrinking back as she'd expected, Sam remained motionless.
Ted Two's manner suddenly became more formal. "I believe you've met my son, Teddy." Focusing on his son, he squeezed the boy's arm. "He has something to say, don't you, Teddy?"
Teddy's head dipped, and when he lifted it, his face wore an expression of humility. "I'd like to apologize for my behavior the other day, Ms. Moore." His eyes darted to his father before returning to Sam. "It was inexcusably rude and I hope you can forgive me."
At his side, Ted Two gave a satisfied nod and dropped his arm from around Teddy's shoulder.
Sam opened her mouth to reply, but before she could answer, Jackson joined the group and introductions were made once again. Teddy's apology was forgotten, and Anne caught the sly look he shot at Sam before focusing on Dr. Van Horn.
"I'm so happy to meet you, Dr. Van Horn," Teddy said, grasping Jackson's hand firmly in his own. "I've heard some of my mom's friends talk about what a terrific surgeon you are."
Taken by surprise, Jackson beamed. "Thank you."
"In fact, Irene," the boy continued with a nod toward his grandmother, "thinks plastic surgery might be a good career for me." He smiled broadly. "She's always wanted a doctor in the family."
For the next five minutes, he peppered the doctor with questions concerning his practice while Jackson was all but preening at the young man's interest.
Watching Teddy suck up to Dr. Van Horn, Anne wanted to gag. She didn't know what the boy's game was, but whatever it was, Dr. Van Horn was falling for it. Hadn't Sam told him about the incident with Roxy? She glanced at Sam, standing rigidly at her fiance's side. A brittle light haunted her eyes as she plucked at her shawl, clearly unnerved by Teddy's performance, and Anne felt her anxiety growing. She had to figure out a way to get her charge away from the group before she crumbled.
"Um," she began, interrupting Teddy.
"Wait," he said before she could speak. "I see you don't have any refreshments. May I get you something?" He looked expectantly at Sam and Anne.
"How thoughtful of you, Teddy," Jackson interjected. "Wine, Anne?" he asked with a glance her way.
Anne gave a quick nod.
Linking his arm with Sam's, Jackson smiled. "Sam will have lemonade."
After Teddy left, Jackson turned to the Brightons. "What a nice young man."
A stunned silence ensued until Irene broke it. "Humph," she snorted, drilling her son and daughter-in-law with a knowing glance. "My grandson has his moments." Taking Kimberly's arm, she gave Jackson a gracious smile. "We haven't said h.e.l.lo to our host. If you'll excuse us?"