The Goodbye Groom. Ellen James
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own childhood. Even under the best of circumstances it hurt deeply. And the circumstances, perhaps, could never be the best.
Even when a father cared for his daughter as much as Eric Sinclair evidently did.
Jamie took a sip from her wineglass. Eric hadn’t spoken for several minutes. The light of the candles flickered between them on the table. Eric’s face remained in shadow, obscured by the growing night, yet he still managed to dominate his surroundings. There was nothing easy about him, nothing restful. As soon as his daughter had gone with Mrs. B., he’d reverted to the forbidding demeanor of this afternoon.
Then it occurred to her how things had been exactly the opposite with Shawn. It had been so easy to be swept up in dreams of love and a new life. Until the moment, of course, when he had neglected to show up at the altar.
“It’s getting late,” she said. “And it has been a long day.”
“You can’t turn in,” Eric said, “until you come clean. How did you get my daughter into the water? Beyond throwing my furniture into the brink, what’s the rationale?”
Jamie turned her wineglass in one hand, staring at the reflection of the candlelight. “Simple. I just told her the truth. I told her that when I was a little older than her I was deathly afraid of flying. But I was going to visit my father for the first time since my parents’ divorce, and the only way to do that was to get on that plane…. ” She was telling too much. She had to stick to the point. “So, I decided I would combine something I loved with the thing that I hated. I grabbed my favorite Nancy Drew mystery and stuck my head in it for the entire flight. Sure enough, by the end, I hardly even knew I was flying. And then, after the next flight and the next, I wasn’t so afraid anymore.”
Jamie set down her glass, watching as Eric filled it again. She was already perhaps too intoxicated by the northwestern air, the mysteriousness of this night. “Anyway,” she continued, “I suggested to Kaitlin that she try the same technique—associate something she wasn’t afraid of with the pool. She told me that she was hungry and that she certainly wasn’t afraid of dinner.”
Eric filled his own glass and took a thoughtful sip. “You have a novel approach, Ms. Williams—Jamie. And I happen to be grateful.”
For some reason, she didn’t want his gratitude. She hadn’t helped Kaitlin for that, anyway. She’d simply responded to the moment, with a little girl who reminded her of herself as a child.
“Simple psychology,” she said. “It worked for me, in any case. I grew to love flying instead of hating it. Even started taking lessons so I could get my pilot’s license.” She didn’t want to talk about herself to this man, so why was she doing it? Yet he’d learn certain facts soon enough. She couldn’t hide them. “Flying was how I met your brother,” she went on. “Eventually I became a flight instructor myself. He signed up for lessons. End of story.”
“Interesting way to put it.” Eric’s voice betrayed no emotion. He and his daughter were very much alike indeed, both reluctant to expose their feelings.
Unfortunately the turbulent events of the past few days had shattered any reserve on Jamie’s part. She found herself speaking again.
“The point is, I could tell right away your brother was a genuinely warm person. We started dating, and by the time we were engaged I knew he wanted a home and a family as much as I did—” She stopped herself but not in time. She was definitely revealing too much.
Eric shifted in his chair, as if he, too, regretted her revelations. “Look, Jamie. I sense you’re telling me this because you want me to convince you of something. Maybe you want me to tell you that you didn’t make a mistake where Shawn’s concerned. Hell, I’m not going to argue with you about my brother’s better qualities. He does have them. But he’s the one you need to speak to.”
“That’s why I came here. I just need to talk to him. And after that…” She didn’t know what would happen afterward. She didn’t seem to know anything about her life anymore.
Jamie set down her glass and stood. “It really has been a long day. I’ll say good night, Mr. Sin—Eric.”
He rose to stand beside her. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m sorry about my brother.”
“Thank you,” she said tightly.
She and Eric both moved at the same time, the water eddying around them. She intended to climb the pool steps and go to the house; he no doubt meant to let her pass. But it didn’t end up that way. Somehow they were facing each other and Eric’s hand was on her arm.
It should have been a meaningless, accidental touch, a mistake in the darkness. Yet it sent a disconcerting warmth all through her, made her draw in her breath. Dismayed, she found herself gazing up at him. But he was still enclosed by the shadows, not even the light spilling from the windows of the house able to reach him.
Then, just as suddenly as it had happened, it was over. He stepped back, murmured a good-night, and she was on her way toward the house, her bare, damp feet moving across the stones of the patio, her sandals dangling from her hand. Her breath still rose and fell unsteadily.
Surely it had only been the effect of wine and weariness and heartache. She’d been left at the altar—no wonder all her reactions seemed heightened. But she didn’t need to spend any more time with the groom’s brother.
What she needed was to find the groom.
THE NEXT MORNING Jamie zipped up her duffel and swung her carry-on bag over her shoulder. This was the sum total of her luggage. She’d always been the type to travel light—and yesterday even more so. Racing to catch a runaway fiancé, a person had a tendency to ignore the finer details of packing.
She couldn’t stop now. She’d come this far to demand her explanation from Shawn and she had to keep looking for him. She needed to learn the truth or she’d have no hope of getting on with her life.
Why did you walk out on me? Why did you leave, just like my dad all those years ago…?
He wasn’t here to answer her questions. That was why she had to take the next step—go to Seattle. Mrs. Braddock, in her sensible, straightforward manner, had suggested last night that Shawn would be found there. Consequently, Jamie had fortified herself with her favorite dress, a tailored style in turquoise silk.
Now she went quickly down the stairs and out of the house to the driveway, where a dark blue truck waited. Mrs. Braddock helped her put her bags in the back. The housekeeper was about to climb into the driver’s seat when Eric appeared.
“Thank you, Mrs. B.,” he said. “I’ll take over from here.”
Mrs. Braddock gave him a considering glance, apparently not intimidated in the least by his stern demeanor. She tossed him the keys, gave a brisk farewell to Jamie and disappeared inside. Jamie glanced upward, wondering if, for just a second, she’d seen Kaitlin’s heart-shaped face hovering at one of the windows. Jamie waved, but now the window was blank. Why did she feel this sudden ache inside? It made no sense at all—she scarcely knew the child.
A few moments later Eric was driving Jamie down the hill, the dazzling waters of the Sound sparkling before them. At first she made no effort at conversation. She told herself simply to gaze straight ahead. Another few moments and she would probably never see Eric Sinclair again. There was no reason to feel this unsettling awareness. Last night she’d been able to blame it on wine and exhaustion. This morning she could only blame it on the fact that she had been ditched at the altar. Did she want to get back at Shawn for what he’d done to her? Being attracted to Shawn’s brother, there would be a revenge….
She shook her head. If only it were that simple. She sensed something far more in her confused emotions, something unexplainable. The sooner she got away from Eric Sinclair, the better.
Reluctantly, she found herself studying his profile. The man was unquestionably attractive. The strong, definitive lines of his face suggested the force of personality she was already coming to know. His