Secrets in the Stone Part 15

"I'm making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Comfort food. Tell me you don't like it," Adrian said.

Rooke grinned fleetingly. "I'd rather not lie to you."

"Good. I'd rather you didn't either." At the sight of Rooke's smile, Adrian forgot all the reasons why distance would be a good thing. "Let me help you carry the ladder up to the house, at least."

"All right. Then you have to let me do the dishes."

Adrian laughed. "Deal."

v "Rooke," Adrian said as she relaxed at the table with a cup of tea while Rooke washed and rinsed dishes. After Rooke had declared the roof sound, they'd had an enjoyable meal during which the subjects of Melinda and her interest in Rooke's sculptures had not come up. Adrian told Rooke about some of the articles she'd written and answered Rooke's many questions about the places she'd visited around the world. While Adrian took notes, Rooke had described the symbols common to cemeteries in the region. Their conversation had been easy and pleasurable. Now she had questions running through her mind she couldn't silence.

"Hmm," Rooke asked, stacking plates on a dishtowel.

"How do you think Bea Meriwether came to have your sculpture?"

Rooke paused in the midst of drying a cup, and then finished it and set it aside. She rinsed the last dish and wiped her hands on a blue terrycloth towel. She pulled out a chair next to Adrian and sat down.

"I think Pops gave it to my grandmother and she didn't want it.

She either gave it away or someone rescued it before she could destroy it." Adrian stifled her shock at the dispa.s.sionate tone of Rooke's voice, as if she were completely used to being erased by her grandmother. As if that erasure didn't matter. "Why do you think he gave it to her?"

"I don't know." Rooke absently ran her finger around the rim of Adrian's empty teacup. "Maybe he was trying to mend the rift."

a 140 a "The rift?"

"It's a long story."

Adrian smiled into Rooke's eyes. "I'd like to hear it if you want to tell me."

Rooke searched Adrian's face for a long time. "Why?"

"Because I want to know about you," Adrian said immediately.

"And before you ask me why, it's because I think you're interesting and remarkably talented and I'm from this place too. So we have a little bit of history in common." She didn't add you're beautiful and sensual and so tender you break my heart.

"Okay." Rooke pushed back in the chair and stretched her legs out, hooking her thumbs into her front pockets as she stared at the tops of her boots. "About fifty years ago my grandfather was in love with Ida Hanc.o.c.k, and she apparently let him believe it was mutual. They were high school sweethearts, I guess you would call it, but in secret.

No one knew except some of Ida's best friends."

"Like my grandmother and Bea Meriwether," Adrian said softly.

"And a couple of other daughters of the prominent families."

"How do you know all this?"

Rooke smiled wryly. "When people think you're...handicapped, they talk in front of you because they don't think you'll understand.

Some of it I got in school, before my grandfather pulled me out. Some I-"

"Wait," Adrian said, having trouble keeping up. "Your grandfather took you out of school?"

"Yes. When I was seven. They told him I was mentally challenged and couldn't be in the same cla.s.s as the other kids."

Adrian murmured, "Oh my G.o.d. How could they not know what was wrong?"

Rooke shrugged. "Maybe they didn't look too hard. Anyhow, I was homeschooled after that. When I was older, sometimes I'd hear customers talking about my grandfather or me. I pieced most of it together on my own. Dom filled in some blanks."

"I'm sorry I interrupted. I'm sorry...never mind. Go ahead about your grandfather and Ida." Adrian knew Rooke wouldn't want her sympathy, but inside she was weeping for the child Rooke had been, and outraged for the adult.

"When it came time for my grandmother to have her coming-out a 141 a ball and take her place in society, she wasn't interested in a relationship with the son of the local cemetery caretaker any longer."

"And they both married other people?" Adrian guessed.

"Yes."

Adrian frowned. "But then..." Her eyes widened. "Their children are your parents?"

"My mother was Ida Hanc.o.c.k's daughter. She and my father fell in love their last year in high school and she got pregnant. My grandmother disowned her."

"Was your mother's name Grace?" Adrian asked quietly.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I saw her name in the newspaper."

Rooke looked away, her expression pained. "The accident."

"Yes."

"She was on her way back from my grandmother's. One version I heard is that she brought me there to try to change my grandmother's mind about the estrangement. I don't think anyone really knows why she was there that day." Rooke turned wounded eyes to Adrian. "One thing is clear, though. My grandmother sent her away. Into the storm."

Adrian couldn't bear her sadness. She leaned across the table and stroked Rooke's cheek. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."

Rooke covered Adrian's hand and held it to her face for an instant, then let go. "Do you believe in fate?"

"I think so," Adrian said, remembering that Melinda had asked the same question. "I know we don't always understand the reasons why things happen in the moment. I believe there are patterns and forces in the universe we can't fully comprehend. Maybe that's fate. Or destiny.

Why?"

"I wonder sometimes if my mother and father weren't destined to live the life that Pops and Ida should have had." Rooke grimaced. "But if they were, fate sure wasn't on their side."

"Maybe the story isn't finished yet."

"My grandfather gave my statue to my grandmother, and she gave it away. Just like she sent my mother away. Now Melinda wants it. Do you think that's part of the story?"

"I don't know," Adrian said quietly. "What do you think?"

"The answers have always been in the stone. And maybe they still are."

a 142 a

ChapTER SiXTEEn.

Adrian stared at the paragraph that had been staring back at her from her screen for the past forty minutes. Now she knew something was wrong. Wherever she was in the world, whatever was happening in her life, no matter how chaotic or dangerous or painful, she'd always been able to work. She'd chosen her career and the life that came with it over her parents' expectations and favor. The price she paid for turning her back on her family's blueprint for success had been the loneliness of always being the outsider, and the knowledge that she disappointed those she loved. She had friends, but no lovers. Her work was her escape and her solace.

When Rooke left, she'd booted up her computer, planning to spend the rest of the day outlining the new project, but within minutes her mind had drifted to the story of Rooke's grandparents' ill-fated love affair and the tragedy that played out in the lives of their children. If she hadn't come from a family that put such great stock in social status and maintaining the family's image, she would have found it impossible to believe that Ida Hanc.o.c.k had cast out her daughter for falling in love with a poor man. She doubted it was all about money, though. Ida's anger probably had a lot to do with the fact that her daughter chose a Tyler, when she herself had not been willing to. And Rooke had been the ultimate victim of this twist of fate. Adrian was certain that if Ida Hanc.o.c.k had publicly recognized Rooke as her granddaughter, Rooke never would have been treated so poorly in school and by members of the community. Ida would not have allowed it. But Rooke was not a Hanc.o.c.k. She was every inch a Tyler, having inherited the talent that had been her family's legacy for generations. Rooke's skill, her pa.s.sion, a 143 a was to unleash the hidden grandeur in the stone. Adrian wondered if Ida Hanc.o.c.k had any idea how extraordinary her granddaughter was or how much she had missed out on by not acknowledging her. She couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for Ida's loss, though. Ida Hanc.o.c.k did not deserve Rooke.

Rooke. She wondered what Rooke would decide about Melinda. As soon as she pictured the seductive way Melinda had leaned into Rooke as they talked in the hotel, touching her constantly, her concentration went all to h.e.l.l. She knew firsthand how compelling Melinda's attentions could be, and she knew from her own career achievements the seditious allure of celebrity. Although she was far from famous, she'd won a few awards and been interviewed for several national magazines, and even appeared on a network news show once. For a very short while, she'd enjoyed the media attention. And if she was honest with herself, she'd enjoyed the interest from women who were probably more attracted to her star status, such as it'd been, than anything else. Adrian didn't need to use any imagination to know that Rooke-amazingly talented, young, gorgeous, s.e.xy Rooke-was going to have women falling at her feet if Melinda put the spotlight on her.

Grumpily, Adrian pushed back from the table. She'd never thought of herself as the jealous type, but okay, maybe she was a little more possessive than she'd thought. Only she was getting way ahead of herself, and a lot ahead of Rooke, who hadn't exactly made a move on her. She never behaved this way around women. She didn't pine, she didn't even l.u.s.t. She enjoyed a few days, a few weeks. The last time she'd had a relationship last more than three months had been years before. Casual and uncomplicated was her motto. Now in the course of a few crazy intense days she'd met two women who had her acting in ways she didn't even recognize. Melinda aroused her, completely against her will, and Rooke-Rooke turned her emotions inside out when she wasn't turning her on with the slightest, most innocent touch.

h.e.l.l, she hadn't even wanted Rooke to leave that afternoon, and had barely stopped herself from making up some excuse to get Rooke to stay a little longer. And then as soon as Rooke had left, she'd missed her. Adrian rubbed her temples. She couldn't trust anything she was feeling. What she needed was a reality adjustment or a mental cold shower.

Abandoning any hopes of working, she s.n.a.t.c.hed up the phone and a 144 a hoisted herself up onto the counter. She punched a familiar number and listened to it ring, antic.i.p.ating the answering machine. Her good friend and frequent collaborator Jude Castle was on a.s.signment more than she was home, traveling to wherever critical events were unfolding in the world. They'd met several years before when they'd shared a rickety prop plane flying into the bush in Central Africa. Adrian had been doing a series on the AIDS crisis in third-world countries and Jude had been on her way to film a guerrilla leader in his jungle camp. They'd hit it off immediately. In addition to being women and lesbians in a male-dominated world, they shared the same wild sense of adventure and were similarly driven by the elusive hunt for the next story. Since then, they'd collaborated on several projects, most recently reporting from the front lines in Iraq. Considering they'd both returned to the States just before Christmas, she wouldn't be surprised if Jude had left again.

"h.e.l.lo?"

Adrian was so startled it took her a second to respond. "Jude? Hey, it's Adrian."

"Hey yourself, Ade. You in the city?"

"Nope. Upstate at my grandmother's place. What are you doing in the city?" Adrian teased.

"The team is editing the footage we brought back. In fact, I'm glad you called. Time is interested in us putting together a book on today's soldier. When I get the stills sorted, I'll send you the lot so you can work up the copy."

"That's great! Can't wait to get at it." Adrian liked being in the final phases of one project while she researched the beginnings of the next so there was no downtime. If she was working, she didn't have time to wonder what might be missing from her life. "So you're staying put for a while?"

"I am," Jude said, sounding pensive. "Maybe for a little longer than usual."

"Something wrong?"

"No. I think I'm just tired of sleeping on the ground and eating out of foil packages." She laughed softly. "And I miss Sax."

"I'm sure she won't complain about having you around more."

"She better not. Hopefully she'll work a little less, eat better, and maybe even sleep once in a while," Jude said, referring to her surgeon lover. "So what's going on with you?"

a 145 a Adrian had called Jude because Jude was always so grounded, so rational, and Adrian trusted her. She hadn't actually thought out what she was going to say, so the words just came out before she had a chance to censor them-before she had a chance to put her feelings into a neat little package that made sense to her. "I met this woman-two women, really-and I kind of feel like I fell down the rabbit hole."

"Oho. Let me grab a beer and get comfortable."

Adrian smiled as she heard the sound of a refrigerator opening and the clatter of a metal bottle top dancing across a counter.

"Okay," Jude said, "I'm back. Two, hmmm. I'm impressed."

"Don't be. I'm not having a lot of fun."

"How come?"

"Because half the time I don't feel like myself."

"Meaning?" Jude asked.

"On my way up here I met a woman, an art dealer from the city.

Melinda Singer. She owns Osare-know her?"

"No. I've heard of the gallery, but we've never met. What's she like?"

"Beautiful. s.e.xy. Relentless."

Jude laughed. "Sounds interesting."

"She's very hard to resist, and she's been coming on to me since the minute we met."

"Really?" Jude made a little humming sound. "How do you feel about her?"

"Have you ever been turned on, I mean like full-tilt burning-up-your-skin turned on, by someone who you didn't really want to be turned on by?"

"Yes," Jude said, surprising Adrian. "Saxon, the first time I met her."

"Oh, that doesn't sound good," Adrian moaned. "Because I don't want to go there with Melinda Singer."

"I also fell in love with Sax the first time I met her, although I didn't realize it for quite a long time. I was too busy being p.i.s.sed off at her." Jude paused. "But I don't gather that's what you're talking about."

"No. With Melinda it's a case of my mind screaming no while my body goes a million miles an hour in the other direction."

"Good thing you're so stubborn, then. Your head will win."

a 146 a "I used to think so," Adrian muttered. "Lately I'm not so sure."

"Tell me about woman number two."

"She's doing some work on my grandmother's house," Adrian said, and filled Jude in on what had happened since she'd arrived in the midst of the blizzard and discovered the damage to the house.

"So, what's special about this one?"

"Um, everything?"

Jude made a choking sound followed by laughter. "Well, I guess that tells me everything I need to know. Really, though, does that mean smart, s.e.xy, exciting, intriguing, dangerous...what?"