Chapter 22
Jason was still sleeping as Kate peeked in on him, then carried her coffee out onto the front porch to watch the morning sun spread across the mountains. Almost immediately the sun’s welcome warmth began to penetrate her lightweight jacket and jeans, as she wrapped her hands around the steaming coffee mug.
It’s nippy this morning, she thought, kicking off her tennis shoes and tucking her stockinged feet beneath her, as she leaned back in the comfortable old lounge chair that had been her father’s favorite piece of furniture. Summer’s almost over. Jason will be going back to school soon, and I... She shivered, not so much from the cool air or from the uncertainty of what she would do with her future, but at the chilling memory of how close both she and Jason had come to having no future at all.
If it hadn’t been for Mark..., she reminded herself, as she had countless times throughout her restless, almost sleepless night. She closed her eyes and let the steam from her coffee drift up toward her nostrils. Flashbacks of Bob Phillips’s menacing scowl, the nauseating stench of liquor, his terrifying, maniacal laughter, dominated her mind. But nothing frightened her as badly as the memory of her sense of total helplessness, her inability to protect either herself or her son.
“Kathryn?”
Kate jumped, almost spilling her coffee, as she looked up in surprise to find Lyle, tall and handsome and perfectly groomed in his charcoal gray three-piece suit, standing on the front porch steps. He stared down at her with such obvious care and concern that, for a brief moment, Kate wondered if he had forgotten everything she had told him during their last phone conversation. But before she could speak, he offered an explanation for his unexpected visit.
“I came as soon as I heard,” he said, his voice low and husky, his dark eyes never leaving her face. “Are you all right?”
Kate nodded and smiled slightly, then indicated the empty lawn chair beside her. “I’m fine,” she said. “Jason and I are both fine. He’s still sleeping.”
Lyle brushed his hand across the lawn chair’s tattered webbing, then carefully sat down before reaching over and laying his hand on Kate’s arm. “I was worried about you, Kathryn. Even though I heard on the news that no one was harmed—and, of course, I contacted my connections downtown for the details—but I still had to come over and see for myself.”
“I appreciate that,” Kate said, knowing she should say more, but not knowing how to begin.
“As I said,” Lyle continued, “I talked to my people downtown and...well, the best anyone can figure out is that Bob Phillips was already having personal and financial problems when he came to your father for a loan. When your father was forced to turn him down as a poor financial risk, Phillips really went off the deep end, practically drinking himself into oblivion. He eventually lost everything, including his family, and when he couldn’t deal with his losses, he decided to blame them on your father. He’s apparently been nursing his grudge, along with his drinking problem, for quite some time. No telling for sure how long he’s been following you, but probably since soon after your father died. When I think of what could have happened...”
His voice trailed off as Kate looked up into his finely chiseled, aristocratic face. She knew it was more than simple concern she saw mirrored in his deep, penetrating eyes. He loved her. And she could not ignore that fact any longer, though she had no idea what she should say or do.
“Lyle, I—”
He reached over and squeezed her arm. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “I know. About Mark Thomas, I mean.”
Their eyes locked, and she realized what Lyle was saying to her. It was not simply that he knew how Mark had rescued her and Jason. Lyle somehow knew the truth…that she was in love with Mark.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“So am I,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “But you have nothing to apologize for, Kathryn. You never offered me anything but friendship. And now I wish you all the best; you know that.”
Unable to speak, Kate nodded, grateful for his understanding.
Lyle stood up. “You know where I am if you need anything,” he said.
Kate nodded again.
“Good-bye, Kathryn.” His voice cracked as he turned and walked down the porch steps and out toward his elegant, sun-washed Mercedes. Head high, shoulders straight, he slid in behind the wheel and pulled away from the curb. Kate watched him until he was out of sight. As far as she could tell, he never looked back.