Chapter Eight
Seventeen years earlier
It was a bright summer’s day in Sleepyside—shimmering heat, and just the faintest hint of a breeze shifting through the air, moving the trees, stirring up dust. Honey Wheeler smoothed the folds of her pretty pale yellow and white cotton dress as she strolled around the common in the town’s centre. Her parents and a very disapproving Miss Lefferts were taking tea in a nearby café, but after drinking a small glass of lemonade, she’d asked if she could go for a walk. Her mother and governess had been reluctant, but her father had ignored them and told her to go and get some fresh air—it would do her good.
Honey wasn’t sure if fresh was exactly the right word to describe the heavy summer air, but there were plenty of trees on the common and these provided shade, their faded leaves rustling in the wind and casting patterns on the ground below.
The excitement she’d felt when her father had suggested the daytrip to check out a house he was considering buying had faded. Her mother didn’t like the tiny quaint town, that much was obvious, and Miss Lefferts absolutely hated it.
Honey was as certain as she could be that they would return to airless New York City and she would be back to a life of summer camps and boarding schools—once she’d recovered from her illness that is. It had some absurdly long name—mono something or another. Anyway, it meant she was tired all of the time and she was so tired of being tired.
She glanced around her, admiring the small graceful buildings that ran along the main street and the slightly larger, slightly fancier one that laid claim to being the town Hall. Feeling a sudden burst of energy she began to run—cavorting around like a child much younger than her thirteen years. She skipped and danced and twirled around, her arms outstretched.
As she spun she caught sight of something on the roof of the town hall, she tilted her head to take a better look, lost her footing, tripping over a tree root, and went sprawling into the dirt.
It hurt. In deference to the hot summer’s day her legs were bare and the gnarled tree root had scraped the flesh, leaving a deep graze. She reached for the handkerchief she kept tucked into the bra she didn’t really need to wear and then felt herself becoming dizzy as she saw the blood running down her leg.
“Hey there. Why don’t I take a look at that?”
The voice was kind, and Honey was pulled gently to her feet and felt a firm but careful arm slip around her waist and help her to a wooden seat, situated under a sprawling elm tree.
“Let’s see the damage, shall we?” The voice continued, and she looked up in warm, dark eyes.
“I’m Brian,” her rescuer said with a smile. “And who are you?”
He’d seen her, strolling, then running and almost dancing around the common. A slip of a girl in a pretty summer dress, her light brown hair catching the sunlight and warming to gold. Brian had ridden his bike into town, leaving his younger siblings—all of them— behind. He was picking up some supplies for his job as camp counsellor and, it had to be said, enjoying the rare moments of unsupervised solitude. He loved Mart and Trixie and Bobby, but sometimes being the oldest felt kind of restrictive.
Having completed his errands, he’d decided to spend some of his hard-earned chore money on an ice cream. He would sit on the common, under the biggest, shadiest tree he could find and just relax before heading back to Crabapple Farm, the white frame house where he lived with his family. And then he’d seen her—this unknown girl in her early teens— at least that’s what he estimated her age to be—and she captured his attention.
She looked carefree and lost at the same time. She was spinning around and he was watching her when it happened. It wasn’t a bad fall, he knew that before he reached her, but she had fallen hard and obviously given herself a fright. Her eyes, huge, soft hazel eyes, swam in her pale face and she looked as if she might faint. He helped her to her feet, thinking how thin she was—delicate and frail. Leading her to one of the wooden benches dotted around the common, he introduced himself.
“My name is Honey,” she said in response. “Honey Wheeler.”
“Nice to meet you, Honey.”
Once he was sure she was okay, he ran to the nearby drinking fountain and ran his thankfully clean handkerchief under its cool flow. Carefully he cleaned the wound and dabbed at the graze.
“It’s not too bad,” he said reassuringly.
“I should have been more careful. I was being silly.”
“Looked like you were having fun to me,” Brian remarked. “Nothing wrong with that.”
She smiled at that, her face lighting up, losing that slightly haunted, pinched look.
“It’s such a pretty town,” she observed wistfully. “Do you live here?”
“My whole life,” Brian returned with a rueful grin. “But it’s home and I guess I like it.”
“My parents came to look at a house here, but mother doesn’t like it, so…”
“So,” Brian prodded.
Honey shrugged. “We’ll go back to New York, back to Manhattan. I’ll go back to boarding school and to camp.”
“I’m going to camp soon,” Brian said. “As a counsellor. My brother Mart, he’s a year or so younger than me, is coming too. We have another brother, Bobby, but he’s only six and a sister—Trixie—she’s probably a little younger than you are.”
“I’m thirteen,” Honey said. “My birthday was in April.”
“Well, then you’re practically the same age. Trixie was thirteen in May.”
Studying her, he realised that in some ways she did seem older than his tomboy sister. Her dress, the way she wore her hair, even the way she spoke all gave her a veneer of sophistication—he was almost sure that it was only a veneer but the sadness and uncertainty in those eyes made her seem vulnerable and younger than Trixie.
“I’d like to meet her. I don’t really have any friends.”
It was on the tip of Brian’s tongue to ask how a girl who went to boarding school and camp didn’t have any friends, but as he was the Belden who thought before he spoke, he wisely kept his counsel.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you so much,” she answered with a shy smile.
“I’d offer you some of my ice cream, but I dropped it when I ran over here.”
“Oh, I have money,” Honey said quickly, reaching for the white purse that matched her sandals. “Please get yourself another. It was my fault you dropped it.”
“What if I get one and we share it?” Brian suggested. He wasn’t used to taking things from strangers, but he figured an ice cream might be good for his new-found friend, and he sensed she wouldn’t have one unless he did.
“Okay.” Honey’s smile widened, reaching those eyes. Brian wasn’t sure he’d ever noticed a girl’s eyes before—except maybe in a genealogical sense. “But why not get one for each of us. I’m feeling a bit hungry, which is unusual for me lately.”
She looked so hopeful and eager that he couldn’t say no, and as he dashed across the common to the ice-cream parlour, he realised he didn’t want to.
Minutes later they were sitting side-by-side on the bench. Honey had chosen the butter pecan while Brian took the mint chocolate chip.
“Have you been ill?” Brian asked. “You said you hadn’t been hungry lately.” And you’re thinner than you should be. I wish I could take you home to Moms. Some fried chicken and mashed potato or hamburgers and fries would do you the world of good. Brian was planning on being a doctor so he was more interested in people’s health than most, and while some might argue that fried chicken and burgers weren’t healthy, he could see this girl needed fattening up. Besides, his moms’ food was all fresh and delicious and that made a big difference.
“I’ve had some sort of virus,” Honey said, a slight frown furrowing her brow. “Something like mono something or that family. Do viruses have families?”
“Actually they do,” Brian confirmed. “I’m guessing you mean mononucleosis, which is glandular, though it can sometimes affect the autoimmune system. There are a host of similar viruses, like Epstein-Barr. They can be hard to detect and generally the treatment is rest and rebuilding your strength. Its effects can linger, so it’s important to look after yourself and gradually rebuild your strength. Provided you do that, there shouldn’t be any lasting effects.”
“You know a lot about it,” Honey observed, thinking that it was odd this handsome young man made more sense than either her doctor or her parents. At least she kind of understood what he was saying.
Brian flushed, realising how he might have sounded. His brother and sister were always complaining about his diagnostic speeches—at least that’s what Mart called them. “I’m hoping to be a doctor someday,” he said. “I borrow textbooks from the library and study them, and our family doctor sort of tutors me once a week.” Way to go, Brian, he thought. How lame does that sound?
Honey, apparently, did not agree. “You must be so smart. And you have very gentle hands, and you’re nice and calm. I bet you’ll be a wonderful doctor.” She turned her head and their eyes met, the admiration in hers more appealing than anything Brian had ever seen in his almost sixteen years.
On impulse, he leaned towards her. She didn’t draw back and his lips brushed hers—lightly, playfully. He wrapped an arm around her and allowed the kiss to deepen just a little.
“Madeleine! Madeleine! Where on earth are you?”
A voice, strident and intrusive, broke the embrace.
“That’s my governess,” Honey said as he released her.
“Madeleine?” Brian was puzzled.
“It’s my real name. Honey is a nickname.”
“Of course it is,” he returned with a half-smile.
“I should go,” she said, getting to her feet. “But thank you, Brian. Thank you for everything.”
“You take care, Honey. And thank you for listening. You’re easy to talk to. And get your strength back. You’ll feel so much better.”
She hurried off and he saw a large imposing woman meet her—ake her by the arm—not as gently as she should have. A moment later she was gone, and a quick glance at his watch told Brian he should be heading home.
He crossed the common to collect his bike, a smile on his handsome face. A pretty girl, a summer’s day and a kiss—well, he had not been expecting that.
“I can’t believe I’d forgotten,” he said slowly, taking a seat beside the woman whose familiarity was now explained.
“Me either,” Honey agreed. “Maybe especially me. It was an unusual day for me—a special day. I’m guessing you didn’t give it much thought afterwards.”
“That would be a very inaccurate guess. You have changed a little. Though you’re still too thin.” He didn’t add that one of the reasons he’d more or less buried the memory was that his actions that day didn’t reflect his normal, practical reasonable approach to the world.
Honey laughed. “Nice compliment, doctor. I’ve lost some weight recently. I’ve been feeling a little distracted, fuzzy. Things have been difficult between Craig and I and…” she trailed off. “Not very smart of me to admit that.”
“You haven’t hidden that your marriage wasn’t great, Honey. And I’m as sure as I can be that whoever killed your husband, it wasn’t you.”
“Not sure everyone agrees with you.”
Brian shrugged. “I know how Trixie comes across, but it’s actually a good sign that’s she’s picking through your story…explanation. She’s learned to examine her hunches and question them until she has proof, and she’s good at what she does. My guess is she doesn’t think you’re guilty either, but she needs to prove it and to find who is responsible.”
“I wouldn’t say no to either of those things myself. You sure must be sick of rescuing me by now.”
“Twice in a lifetime is hardly wearing on me,” Brian said.
“You rescued me last night, too, in a way.”
“Those marks on your arm.” Brian had been thinking about those.
“It was once—he grabbed me when I told him I wouldn’t wait any longer to start divorce proceedings. And that I wanted to tell my family and close friends.”
Brian’s jaw tightened.
“I hit him,” Honey said, her tone matter of a fact. “I’d never hit anyone and it surprised him.”
“What did he say?” Brian wasn’t even sure he wanted to know. The bruises weren’t that old. Was this argument connected to Craig’s death?
“He asked me to wait another week or so and then promised he wouldn’t fight a divorce.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this before?”
She shrugged her shoulders and her fingers ran over the bruises. “I was worried. Worried how it would sound. Worried you wouldn’t believe he’d agreed to the divorce.”
He should make her call Dan or Trixie. He should call them himself. Instead he lifted a hand and brushed her damp hair back from her forehead.
Honey looked up into those dark eyes that had captured her attention all those years ago. “You were the first boy I’d ever kissed, you know.”
Brian smiled. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Honey. You were the first girl I’d ever kissed, too—on the lips anyway.” Those previous couple of awkward pecks on a girl’s cheek had left him wondering what the fuss was. That one kiss on the common had provided the beginning of an answer.
“It’s funny,” Honey mused. “But there was something in the air that day. Sleepyside, the common—you. You gave me more than a kiss, and believe me, I know how this sounds, but you gave me a confidence boost. I talked to my dad after we got back to the city and asked if we could make a plan for more activities. I’m a pretty good swimmer, so we started there.
“Before long I didn’t have to spend half the day in bed. I went into Daddy’s work and filed and typed reports, even made coffee, that’s where I met Jim and he was encouraging, too. When I did rest, I read about all sorts of things. I was never going to be on the hockey or basketball teams at school, my hand to eye co-ordination isn’t good enough, but I figured I could lift my academic grades. By the time I went back to boarding school I was feeling less anxious and then I met Diana, someone who was more lost and uncertain than I was. It changed me. Changed us both, I think.”
“I had no idea the two of you knew one another, though to be fair, we haven’t spent that much time with her since she and Mart started dating. I think they’re still in that stage of their relationship, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s been a long time since I was in that stage, to be honest. Craig seemed so wonderful at first. I met him just after he lost his parents in an accident, and he was a little lost, vulnerable. I think that appealed to me. As time went by he recovered from the loss and he was light-hearted, high-spirited—very talkative. Life of the party, I suppose.”
All the things I’m not, thought Brian, and wondered why he felt a sense of disappointment.
“Funny though, because that’s not what I’m like at all,” Honey continued. “I guess it was that whole opposites attract thing.”
“Probably; I’ve had a couple of those myself.” None that I’ve married though, he thought ruefully.
“I can imagine.”
“You can?”
“You’re a very appealing and handsome man, Doctor Belden.”
“And you’re a very endearing and beautiful woman, Ms. Wheeler.”
She smiled at the use of her maiden name, but gave her golden head a shake. “I’m not beautiful, not like Diana.”
“No, you’re beautiful like you.” Brian’s hand reached out, brushing the bruise on her temple—a feather-light touch.
Honey placed one of her slender hands over his, holding it against her. His dark eyes so steady, so serious, promising so much. She moved a little closer, seeing something in their depths impossible to resist. Suddenly, she did not want to try. In a swift yet graceful movement she pressed her lips against his. He hesitated, but only for a split second, his free hand moved along her bare, slender thigh, and then the kiss, just like that one all those years ago deepened and they gave in to their yearning with abandon.
BH:MAIN NEXT
Author's Notes: As ever my thanks go to super-editor, Dana, who saves me from so very many stumbles and errors and always finds something she loves in my writing. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
It was a bright summer’s day in Sleepyside—shimmering heat, and just the faintest hint of a breeze shifting through the air, moving the trees, stirring up dust. Honey Wheeler smoothed the folds of her pretty pale yellow and white cotton dress as she strolled around the common in the town’s centre. Her parents and a very disapproving Miss Lefferts were taking tea in a nearby café, but after drinking a small glass of lemonade, she’d asked if she could go for a walk. Her mother and governess had been reluctant, but her father had ignored them and told her to go and get some fresh air—it would do her good.
Honey wasn’t sure if fresh was exactly the right word to describe the heavy summer air, but there were plenty of trees on the common and these provided shade, their faded leaves rustling in the wind and casting patterns on the ground below.
The excitement she’d felt when her father had suggested the daytrip to check out a house he was considering buying had faded. Her mother didn’t like the tiny quaint town, that much was obvious, and Miss Lefferts absolutely hated it.
Honey was as certain as she could be that they would return to airless New York City and she would be back to a life of summer camps and boarding schools—once she’d recovered from her illness that is. It had some absurdly long name—mono something or another. Anyway, it meant she was tired all of the time and she was so tired of being tired.
She glanced around her, admiring the small graceful buildings that ran along the main street and the slightly larger, slightly fancier one that laid claim to being the town Hall. Feeling a sudden burst of energy she began to run—cavorting around like a child much younger than her thirteen years. She skipped and danced and twirled around, her arms outstretched.
As she spun she caught sight of something on the roof of the town hall, she tilted her head to take a better look, lost her footing, tripping over a tree root, and went sprawling into the dirt.
It hurt. In deference to the hot summer’s day her legs were bare and the gnarled tree root had scraped the flesh, leaving a deep graze. She reached for the handkerchief she kept tucked into the bra she didn’t really need to wear and then felt herself becoming dizzy as she saw the blood running down her leg.
“Hey there. Why don’t I take a look at that?”
The voice was kind, and Honey was pulled gently to her feet and felt a firm but careful arm slip around her waist and help her to a wooden seat, situated under a sprawling elm tree.
“Let’s see the damage, shall we?” The voice continued, and she looked up in warm, dark eyes.
“I’m Brian,” her rescuer said with a smile. “And who are you?”
He’d seen her, strolling, then running and almost dancing around the common. A slip of a girl in a pretty summer dress, her light brown hair catching the sunlight and warming to gold. Brian had ridden his bike into town, leaving his younger siblings—all of them— behind. He was picking up some supplies for his job as camp counsellor and, it had to be said, enjoying the rare moments of unsupervised solitude. He loved Mart and Trixie and Bobby, but sometimes being the oldest felt kind of restrictive.
Having completed his errands, he’d decided to spend some of his hard-earned chore money on an ice cream. He would sit on the common, under the biggest, shadiest tree he could find and just relax before heading back to Crabapple Farm, the white frame house where he lived with his family. And then he’d seen her—this unknown girl in her early teens— at least that’s what he estimated her age to be—and she captured his attention.
She looked carefree and lost at the same time. She was spinning around and he was watching her when it happened. It wasn’t a bad fall, he knew that before he reached her, but she had fallen hard and obviously given herself a fright. Her eyes, huge, soft hazel eyes, swam in her pale face and she looked as if she might faint. He helped her to her feet, thinking how thin she was—delicate and frail. Leading her to one of the wooden benches dotted around the common, he introduced himself.
“My name is Honey,” she said in response. “Honey Wheeler.”
“Nice to meet you, Honey.”
Once he was sure she was okay, he ran to the nearby drinking fountain and ran his thankfully clean handkerchief under its cool flow. Carefully he cleaned the wound and dabbed at the graze.
“It’s not too bad,” he said reassuringly.
“I should have been more careful. I was being silly.”
“Looked like you were having fun to me,” Brian remarked. “Nothing wrong with that.”
She smiled at that, her face lighting up, losing that slightly haunted, pinched look.
“It’s such a pretty town,” she observed wistfully. “Do you live here?”
“My whole life,” Brian returned with a rueful grin. “But it’s home and I guess I like it.”
“My parents came to look at a house here, but mother doesn’t like it, so…”
“So,” Brian prodded.
Honey shrugged. “We’ll go back to New York, back to Manhattan. I’ll go back to boarding school and to camp.”
“I’m going to camp soon,” Brian said. “As a counsellor. My brother Mart, he’s a year or so younger than me, is coming too. We have another brother, Bobby, but he’s only six and a sister—Trixie—she’s probably a little younger than you are.”
“I’m thirteen,” Honey said. “My birthday was in April.”
“Well, then you’re practically the same age. Trixie was thirteen in May.”
Studying her, he realised that in some ways she did seem older than his tomboy sister. Her dress, the way she wore her hair, even the way she spoke all gave her a veneer of sophistication—he was almost sure that it was only a veneer but the sadness and uncertainty in those eyes made her seem vulnerable and younger than Trixie.
“I’d like to meet her. I don’t really have any friends.”
It was on the tip of Brian’s tongue to ask how a girl who went to boarding school and camp didn’t have any friends, but as he was the Belden who thought before he spoke, he wisely kept his counsel.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you so much,” she answered with a shy smile.
“I’d offer you some of my ice cream, but I dropped it when I ran over here.”
“Oh, I have money,” Honey said quickly, reaching for the white purse that matched her sandals. “Please get yourself another. It was my fault you dropped it.”
“What if I get one and we share it?” Brian suggested. He wasn’t used to taking things from strangers, but he figured an ice cream might be good for his new-found friend, and he sensed she wouldn’t have one unless he did.
“Okay.” Honey’s smile widened, reaching those eyes. Brian wasn’t sure he’d ever noticed a girl’s eyes before—except maybe in a genealogical sense. “But why not get one for each of us. I’m feeling a bit hungry, which is unusual for me lately.”
She looked so hopeful and eager that he couldn’t say no, and as he dashed across the common to the ice-cream parlour, he realised he didn’t want to.
Minutes later they were sitting side-by-side on the bench. Honey had chosen the butter pecan while Brian took the mint chocolate chip.
“Have you been ill?” Brian asked. “You said you hadn’t been hungry lately.” And you’re thinner than you should be. I wish I could take you home to Moms. Some fried chicken and mashed potato or hamburgers and fries would do you the world of good. Brian was planning on being a doctor so he was more interested in people’s health than most, and while some might argue that fried chicken and burgers weren’t healthy, he could see this girl needed fattening up. Besides, his moms’ food was all fresh and delicious and that made a big difference.
“I’ve had some sort of virus,” Honey said, a slight frown furrowing her brow. “Something like mono something or that family. Do viruses have families?”
“Actually they do,” Brian confirmed. “I’m guessing you mean mononucleosis, which is glandular, though it can sometimes affect the autoimmune system. There are a host of similar viruses, like Epstein-Barr. They can be hard to detect and generally the treatment is rest and rebuilding your strength. Its effects can linger, so it’s important to look after yourself and gradually rebuild your strength. Provided you do that, there shouldn’t be any lasting effects.”
“You know a lot about it,” Honey observed, thinking that it was odd this handsome young man made more sense than either her doctor or her parents. At least she kind of understood what he was saying.
Brian flushed, realising how he might have sounded. His brother and sister were always complaining about his diagnostic speeches—at least that’s what Mart called them. “I’m hoping to be a doctor someday,” he said. “I borrow textbooks from the library and study them, and our family doctor sort of tutors me once a week.” Way to go, Brian, he thought. How lame does that sound?
Honey, apparently, did not agree. “You must be so smart. And you have very gentle hands, and you’re nice and calm. I bet you’ll be a wonderful doctor.” She turned her head and their eyes met, the admiration in hers more appealing than anything Brian had ever seen in his almost sixteen years.
On impulse, he leaned towards her. She didn’t draw back and his lips brushed hers—lightly, playfully. He wrapped an arm around her and allowed the kiss to deepen just a little.
“Madeleine! Madeleine! Where on earth are you?”
A voice, strident and intrusive, broke the embrace.
“That’s my governess,” Honey said as he released her.
“Madeleine?” Brian was puzzled.
“It’s my real name. Honey is a nickname.”
“Of course it is,” he returned with a half-smile.
“I should go,” she said, getting to her feet. “But thank you, Brian. Thank you for everything.”
“You take care, Honey. And thank you for listening. You’re easy to talk to. And get your strength back. You’ll feel so much better.”
She hurried off and he saw a large imposing woman meet her—ake her by the arm—not as gently as she should have. A moment later she was gone, and a quick glance at his watch told Brian he should be heading home.
He crossed the common to collect his bike, a smile on his handsome face. A pretty girl, a summer’s day and a kiss—well, he had not been expecting that.
“I can’t believe I’d forgotten,” he said slowly, taking a seat beside the woman whose familiarity was now explained.
“Me either,” Honey agreed. “Maybe especially me. It was an unusual day for me—a special day. I’m guessing you didn’t give it much thought afterwards.”
“That would be a very inaccurate guess. You have changed a little. Though you’re still too thin.” He didn’t add that one of the reasons he’d more or less buried the memory was that his actions that day didn’t reflect his normal, practical reasonable approach to the world.
Honey laughed. “Nice compliment, doctor. I’ve lost some weight recently. I’ve been feeling a little distracted, fuzzy. Things have been difficult between Craig and I and…” she trailed off. “Not very smart of me to admit that.”
“You haven’t hidden that your marriage wasn’t great, Honey. And I’m as sure as I can be that whoever killed your husband, it wasn’t you.”
“Not sure everyone agrees with you.”
Brian shrugged. “I know how Trixie comes across, but it’s actually a good sign that’s she’s picking through your story…explanation. She’s learned to examine her hunches and question them until she has proof, and she’s good at what she does. My guess is she doesn’t think you’re guilty either, but she needs to prove it and to find who is responsible.”
“I wouldn’t say no to either of those things myself. You sure must be sick of rescuing me by now.”
“Twice in a lifetime is hardly wearing on me,” Brian said.
“You rescued me last night, too, in a way.”
“Those marks on your arm.” Brian had been thinking about those.
“It was once—he grabbed me when I told him I wouldn’t wait any longer to start divorce proceedings. And that I wanted to tell my family and close friends.”
Brian’s jaw tightened.
“I hit him,” Honey said, her tone matter of a fact. “I’d never hit anyone and it surprised him.”
“What did he say?” Brian wasn’t even sure he wanted to know. The bruises weren’t that old. Was this argument connected to Craig’s death?
“He asked me to wait another week or so and then promised he wouldn’t fight a divorce.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this before?”
She shrugged her shoulders and her fingers ran over the bruises. “I was worried. Worried how it would sound. Worried you wouldn’t believe he’d agreed to the divorce.”
He should make her call Dan or Trixie. He should call them himself. Instead he lifted a hand and brushed her damp hair back from her forehead.
Honey looked up into those dark eyes that had captured her attention all those years ago. “You were the first boy I’d ever kissed, you know.”
Brian smiled. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Honey. You were the first girl I’d ever kissed, too—on the lips anyway.” Those previous couple of awkward pecks on a girl’s cheek had left him wondering what the fuss was. That one kiss on the common had provided the beginning of an answer.
“It’s funny,” Honey mused. “But there was something in the air that day. Sleepyside, the common—you. You gave me more than a kiss, and believe me, I know how this sounds, but you gave me a confidence boost. I talked to my dad after we got back to the city and asked if we could make a plan for more activities. I’m a pretty good swimmer, so we started there.
“Before long I didn’t have to spend half the day in bed. I went into Daddy’s work and filed and typed reports, even made coffee, that’s where I met Jim and he was encouraging, too. When I did rest, I read about all sorts of things. I was never going to be on the hockey or basketball teams at school, my hand to eye co-ordination isn’t good enough, but I figured I could lift my academic grades. By the time I went back to boarding school I was feeling less anxious and then I met Diana, someone who was more lost and uncertain than I was. It changed me. Changed us both, I think.”
“I had no idea the two of you knew one another, though to be fair, we haven’t spent that much time with her since she and Mart started dating. I think they’re still in that stage of their relationship, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s been a long time since I was in that stage, to be honest. Craig seemed so wonderful at first. I met him just after he lost his parents in an accident, and he was a little lost, vulnerable. I think that appealed to me. As time went by he recovered from the loss and he was light-hearted, high-spirited—very talkative. Life of the party, I suppose.”
All the things I’m not, thought Brian, and wondered why he felt a sense of disappointment.
“Funny though, because that’s not what I’m like at all,” Honey continued. “I guess it was that whole opposites attract thing.”
“Probably; I’ve had a couple of those myself.” None that I’ve married though, he thought ruefully.
“I can imagine.”
“You can?”
“You’re a very appealing and handsome man, Doctor Belden.”
“And you’re a very endearing and beautiful woman, Ms. Wheeler.”
She smiled at the use of her maiden name, but gave her golden head a shake. “I’m not beautiful, not like Diana.”
“No, you’re beautiful like you.” Brian’s hand reached out, brushing the bruise on her temple—a feather-light touch.
Honey placed one of her slender hands over his, holding it against her. His dark eyes so steady, so serious, promising so much. She moved a little closer, seeing something in their depths impossible to resist. Suddenly, she did not want to try. In a swift yet graceful movement she pressed her lips against his. He hesitated, but only for a split second, his free hand moved along her bare, slender thigh, and then the kiss, just like that one all those years ago deepened and they gave in to their yearning with abandon.
BH:MAIN NEXT
Author's Notes: As ever my thanks go to super-editor, Dana, who saves me from so very many stumbles and errors and always finds something she loves in my writing. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
