My Secret Valentine

Fiona’s hand trembled at the mention of her daughter. Almost five years old, Katy was the light of her life. She loved her daughter more than she’d known she was capable of loving—more than she’d ever loved Justin, more than she’d ever hated him. She’d needed all that love to make up for the father who’d never given a damn that Katy existed, to atone for her sin of falling in love with a man who could be so coldhearted and selfish.

“What about Katy, Mom? He didn’t care about her before. He’s not going to care now.”

“Are you going to let him see her?”

“I’m not going to hide her away like something to be ashamed of. But no, I’m not going to make a point of bringing her to his attention.” She wasn’t going to do anything to bring herself to his attention, either. Golda had had hundreds of friends. The church would be packed to overflowing this afternoon, and virtually all of them would want to express their regrets to Golda’s only relative in attendance.

All of them except her.

“Nice table,” Delores said as Fiona stepped back to study its shine. “What is it?”

“Rosewood. Mrs. Owens picked it up on her last trip to Europe, paid a fortune to have it shipped here, then decided it really didn’t go. She traded it to me for that armoire that had been collecting dust in the corner for two years.” Fiona looked around for something else in need of cleaning, but she’d been dusting and polishing practically nonstop since hearing about Golda’s death. Everything in the shop looked fine.

Laying the cloth aside, she walked behind the counter and sat down in a circa-1920 oak desk chair. Nearly an hour remained before they had to leave for the church, and she had nothing left to do but think. Remember.

And she didn’t want to remember.

Her mother came to stand behind her and gave her a shoulder rub. “You’ll get through this, darlin’. I know it’s tough, losing Golda and having to see Justin again at the same time, but you’re strong. You’ll survive.”

“I know I will, Mom. It’s just…” Hard. Hard saying goodbye to her good friend and neighbor, and even harder having to do it with him there. Hardest of all was having to face him, remembering his sweet words of love, his solemn promises to come back to her, his long years of silence. Sometimes she’d thought it would have been easier if he’d simply told her it was over. But how much clearer could a message be than no message at all?

Lord, she wished things were different! This wasn’t at all where she’d thought she would be at the age of thirty. Not that she didn’t have a lot to be grateful for. She owned her own house. Past Times, her antique shop, was well established and provided her with a comfortable living. She had family and friends, and best of all, she had Katy. In fact, the only thing she’d thought would be different was her lack of a husband. She’d assumed she would become a wife before becoming a mother. She’d thought her life would be more traditional, like her parents’ and sisters’ lives.

Of course, when she’d made those assumptions, she hadn’t counted on falling in love with a man like Justin Reed. She hadn’t known she could misjudge someone so badly.

He’d come to spend two days with Golda before continuing his vacation out west. Instead he’d stayed ten days, and she’d known before the first one was over that she’d met the man she was going to marry. They’d gone from strangers to lovers in the space of a few hours, had fallen head over heels in love soon after.

At least, she had. He’d told her he loved her, told her she was the most special woman in his life and talked of their future together—of the places they would go, the things they would see, the babies they would have. When his job cut his vacation short and called him back to the East Coast, he’d sworn he would come back as soon as he could. He’d asked her to visit him in Washington, had promised he would love her forever and told her he already missed her.

She had believed everything he said, and it had all been lies. Wonderfully romantic, just-what-she’d-wanted-to-hear lies. Carefully-calculated-to-seduce lies.

Seeing him would be hard, all right, but she would manage. As her mother said, she was strong. She would survive. But, please, God, she hoped there was a limit to how many times she was expected to survive Justin’s intrusion into, then disappearance from, her life.

“We’d probably better go,” Delores said, bending to give her a hug. “I told your sisters we’d pick them up on the way to the church. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not.” Fiona switched on the answering machine, got her coat and purse from the back, then flipped the Open sign on the door to Closed. After locking up, she followed her mother to her car and settled in the passenger seat.

Though the day was cold—after all, it was January in Colorado—the sun was shining brightly. She was glad for that. Golda hadn’t minded dreary, gray days, but she’d absolutely reveled in sunny ones, no matter what the temperature. It was only right that she be laid to rest on a bright sunshiny day.

Her mother chatted idly, requiring no response from Fiona, on the way to first Kerry’s house, then Colleen’s. Her sisters lived three blocks in opposite directions from their parents’ home, while Fiona’s house was two blocks north. Unlike Justin’s family, the Lakes stayed close to home and liked it—though five years ago, she would have moved away with him if he’d asked, and been happy to do so. She would never consider such a move now. Family, she could count on to always be there for her. Justin had taught her that she couldn’t count on a man for anything besides heartache.

And the most beautiful little girl in the entire world.

When they reached the church, space was at a premium, both in the parking lot outside and in the pews inside, seating them much closer to the front than Fiona wanted. Given the opportunity, she would have escaped to the standing-room-only crowd at back, but with her mother on one side and Kerry and Colleen on the other, she didn’t get the opportunity.

Kerry squeezed her hand and gave her a smile. “It’s all right. We’ll stick close.”

“It’s silly to be so nervous.”

“I’d worry if you weren’t nervous. If you could see him for the first time since he—”

Betrayed her, Fiona filled in when her sister hesitated. Abandoned her. Broke her heart.

Kerry settled for a shrug. “—and not be nervous, then you’d be colder-hearted and more unfeeling than he could possibly be.”

Fiona would bet Justin wasn’t nervous about the prospect of seeing her again. For all she knew, he might not even remember her. And to be able to turn his back on his baby, he was definitely colder-hearted and more unfeeling than she could ever be.

The time for the funeral drew nearer, and the front row, reserved for family, remained empty. Just when Fiona was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t betrayed Golda, too, Delores bent close and whispered, “Take a deep breath, darlin’. There he is.”

Fiona didn’t have to turn her head more than a few degrees to see the man she’d loved and hated and prayed to never see again, walking down the aisle alongside the minister. He wore a steel-gray suit with a shirt and tie in softer dove-gray, and his black hair was trimmed short enough to control its wavy tendencies. His gaze was directed to the floor as he ignored the hundreds of people around him, and his jaw was set so tightly that she could see the tension from where she sat.

Colleen gave a sigh as the two men passed their pew. “He’s still handsome.”

Of course he was—possibly the handsomest man Fiona had ever met. Years ago she’d figured she thought that because she was so much in love with him, but no, she admitted regretfully. It was the truth. She certainly didn’t love him now, but he was still gorgeous.

And that was all right. Finding him handsome didn’t mean she was still a sucker for his lies. It didn’t mean he had any effect at all on her. She could admire the package without caring what was inside, because she knew what was inside—nothing worth having.

The service started promptly at two. Fiona listened to the eulogy, the prayers, the songs, and said a silent, final goodbye to her friend. With some bitterness, she hoped to soon do the same to Justin, who sat stiffly on the front row. He didn’t bow his head for the prayers, showed no emotion during the songs. He reminded her of nothing so much as a statue.

For the first time in five years, she felt truly relieved that he wasn’t a part of Katy’s life. Her daughter might need a father, but she didn’t need her own father. She was better off without him. So was Fiona. And so was Golda.

After the final prayer, Delores leaned across. “I’m going to pay my respects.”

Kerry and Colleen looked at Fiona, who shrugged. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

She followed their progress part of the way up the aisle, then went to study the nearest of a dozen stained-glass windows that stretched the length of the church. She was restless, impatient to leave, to collect Katy from the baby-sitter, take her home and shut themselves off from the rest of the world until Sunday. Maybe they could go somewhere for the weekend—pack their bags, get in the car and head off on an adventure. Or maybe they could go to Denver—

“Fiona.”

Tension streaked through her body, clenching her muscles and bringing a sick feeling to her stomach. She said a quick prayer that she would turn and find her friend Rebecca’s husband Steve, or maybe Juliette’s husband Colton, but she knew Steve’s and Colton’s voices. More importantly, she knew his voice. It had seduced her, haunted her, taunted her…and then gone silent on her. No, It’s over. No, Goodbye. No, I don’t want you anymore. Just silence.

Forcing all emotion from her expression, she slowly turned to face him. Watching him walk past at a distance was nothing compared to seeing him up close. Handsome? Try incredible. This close she could see the deep blue of his eyes, the straight line of his nose, the perpetually stubborn set of his jaw.

She could see the resemblances to Katy that she’d conveniently persuaded herself weren’t there.

She thought of all the things she’d promised herself she would say to him if she ever saw him again. Every sentiment, every accusation, could be condensed into two harsh words—Damn you—but she didn’t say them. She didn’t say anything at all.

He shifted in a manner that should have screamed He’s nervous! Of course, it didn’t. It just seemed natural. Calm. “I wondered if you were going to speak to me.”

“Actually, no. Speaking to you makes it harder to keep up the illusion that I’d never met you.”

“And you like pretending you never met me.”

She smiled coolly. “I’d like it better if I really had never met you, but this is the next best thing.”

A faint hint of bitterness came into his eyes, and his mouth formed a thin line. After a moment, he flatly said, “I’m sorry about Golda.”

“Everyone here is sorry about Golda.” But in some tender place inside, she was touched by his acknowledgment that losing Golda was a bigger loss to her than him. After all, she’d seen the old lady every day. He’d stayed away for six years.