The police, she thought desperately. Maybe they'd tell her. The receptionist passed her on to someone called Ellison. She said, trying to speak clearly through the icy lump in her throat, "There was a black sports car in the pile-up on the turnpike. All I want to know is if the driver's name was Strathem. Travis Strathem. I-I'm his fiancée."
"Just a moment, please." The silence stretched out, each second an agony of time. Then the police officer's deep baritone said, "I'm not at liberty to reveal the name of the driver. But I can assure you it wasn't Strathem … are you still there, ma'am?"
"Yes," Julie gasped. "Yes, I'm here. Thank you so much." Then, hurriedly, she replaced the receiver, tears blinding her vision. That horrible tangle of black metal hadn't been Travis's car. With a quick prayer for the unknown driver, she flicked off the television and climbed off the bed.
Her knees were trembling; she felt light-headed and dizzy. She couldn't have borne it if Travis had died. Not before she'd told him she loved him.
Because, of course, she did. She loved him with all her heart. Why else had he broken through her defences, bringing her such singing happiness in his bed? Why else had she laughed and played with him, talked and fought with such passion and depth of feeling?
She loved him. And she was bearing his child, a felicity that brought a blissful smile to her face. She wrapped her arms around her body, hugging her newfound knowledge. She could go back home and marry him. She'd leave first thing in the morning; it was too late to set out now. Quickly she reached for the phone again.
But when she punched in his number, she got his voice mail, just as she had when she'd left the message that she was running away. She put down the receiver. Later, she thought. I'll talk to him later.
But at midnight, by which time her eyes were bleary from watching so much television, Travis still wasn't home.
He'd had made no claims to loving her. They'd never discussed any of the basics of marriage, issues like fidelity. Could he be with someone else?
Every nerve in her body repudiated such a conclusion.
Travis wasn't like that. He might be angry and arrogant; but he wasn't facile or shallow. He wouldn't go from her bed to someone else's, she was certain of this. So where was he? On Manatuck with Charles and Corinne?
She'd once found herself face to face with a lion; but she lacked the courage to phone Castlereigh at ten minutes past midnight. Julie showered, pulled on her nightgown and got into bed. If she loved Travis with all her heart, perhaps, just perhaps, he'd fall in love with her.
At quarter past two, on what should have been the first afternoon of his honeymoon, Travis pulled into a fast-food place for lunch. He'd driven south to the New Hampshire border, stopped at a beach on the way back and stared for a long time at the sea, and now he was hungry. A hamburger would do as well as anything.
The restaurant was crowded. He found a table next to a family with children, placed his order and took out the newspaper, with its front page photo of the pile-up in New Hampshire. In a cold funk last night, he'd checked to make sure Julie's name wasn't among those dead or hospitalized. He tried to concentrate on a story about lumber tariffs. The baby at the next table was exercising its lungs in competition with the rock music blaring from the overhead speakers. Travis glanced over as the baby's father lifted the child out of its carrying bed. The screaming stopped. Its lower lip still quivering, the baby gave its father a watery, toothless and utterly charming grin.
That's all he wanted, Travis thought painfully, watching the mother rummage through a diaper bag and produce a bottle, which she passed over with a quick smile at her husband. He wanted to be a husband and a father. Julie's husband. Julie, whom he loved more deeply than he'd thought it possible to love anyone.
Sure, he jeered inwardly. That's all you want. Just heaven and all the stars.
Somehow he'd win her back. His survival depended on it.
The hamburger was excellent, as was his coffee. When he'd finished, Travis stood up, fumbling for his wallet in his back pocket, and weaved his way through the crowded tables to the cash register. The restaurant door was pushed open. A woman walked in and started down the short flight of stairs toward him. He made a choked sound in his throat.
She was wearing the flowered sundress she'd had on the first time he'd seen her. Her hair was a gleaming helmet under the lights. "Julie," Travis said in a cracked voice.
She looked up and saw him. For a moment she was frozen in place. Then her foot slipped on the step. As she lurched forward, grabbing for the rail, he lunged toward her. She fell into his arms. Bracing himself against her weight, he hugged her to him, joy rising in him like an unstoppable tide. "Julie, darling Julie, are you all right?"
"Yes." Her arms tightened around his neck, almost choking him. "Oh, Travis, I'm so glad to see you, I love you so much. What are you doing here? Were you looking for me? I'm on my way home, I would have left last night but it was too late. Are you happy to see me?"
He began to laugh helplessly, burying his face in her neck and inhaling the sweet scent of her skin, so familiar and so badly missed. "You're squashing my larynx and did you say what I thought you said?"
She looked up, her green eyes smiling into his blue ones, her hands sliding down his chest. "I said rather a lot."
"The important part. That you love me."
"Yes, I said that. Would you like me to say it again?"
"I would. Just in case I'm dreaming."
"You're not dreaming," she said with a beatific smile. "You don't know how I've longed to be in your arms, I'm so sorry I ran away. I realized afterward that Leonora ran away and left you, too-I shouldn't have, Travis, but I was so confused and unhappy."
"Julie," he said imperiously, "do you love me?"
"Yes, Travis," she said, "I do."
"Thank God for that." Bending his head, he kissed her at some length and with a great deal of pleasure.
A teenage boy at one of the tables gave a shrill whistle; a ripple of laughter ran through the restaurant. "We've got an audience," Julie said.
"Will you marry me?"
Her smile deepened. "This isn't the most romantic of settings."
He looked around; a number of the patrons were watching the two of them with interest. He reached down to the nearest table, grabbed the bouquet of pink and yellow artificial flowers and presented it to her with a flourish. Then he brought her free hand to his lips, and with lingering sensuality kissed her fingers one by one. "Dearest Julie, I love you more than I can say. I was a total jerk to push you the way I did and you had every right to run away. If you'll marry me, you'll make me happier than I deserve, and I swear I'll do everything in my power to make you happy."
"Yes," she said, "I'll marry you," and kissed him very explicitly on the mouth.
There was a burst of applause. Julie dropped a curtsy, her cheeks pink. Travis said, "By Thursday at the latest? Bryce has to go to Hong Kong on Friday."
"I'll marry you tomorrow, if you like."
"Five minutes from now wouldn't be too soon." Looking deep into her eyes, he said huskily, "You're my heart's desire. Since you left, Leonora, Charles and Bryce have all insisted I was in love with you. But I was the last one to see it. I'm sorry about that."
"You're forgiven. I wasn't too swift in that department myself." Quickly she told him about her phone calls to the hospital and the police station. "That brought me to my senses. But you weren't home last night, so I couldn't tell you."
"I was at Bryce's cottage. Missing you every moment of the day and remembering everything we did there."
"Everything?" Her blush deepened. "Oh Travis, I can't believe how happy I am."
"Let's go home." He let his gaze wander to her cleavage. "Your place or mine, I don't care."
"Actually, I stopped here because I was hungry. I'm eating for two, remember?"
"You could order takeout," he said. "It's faster."
"So you're in a hurry to get home?" she said innocently.
"In a hurry to take you to bed," he said. "It feels like forever since we made love."
"I hope I'm worth waiting for."
"You are," Travis said. And she was.
The following afternoon, on the lawn of St. Margaret's Church, a group of people stood talking among some rather puny rose bushes that could have done with Corinne's touch. The bride, in a simple white sheath, was carrying a spray of orchids, and looked as radiant as a bride could be. Her husband, tall and debonair in a morning suit, stood close by her side, the sun glancing off his dark hair. The ceremony had been simple, the words both poetic and profound; Travis and Julie were still in their grip.