Chapter Nine
“What’s the matter, pumpkin? You don’t sound right. Is it Quinn?” Meggie’s father asked, in a gentle, assuring tone.
Meggie felt tears beginning to sting the back of her eyes. “Yes,” she said in a weak voice that was barely audible over the
telephone line. “Everything’s such a mess between us. I don’t know that it will ever be the same again.”
“I wouldn’t worry if I were you, Meggie. If it was meant to be then things will work out right.”
Her father’s psychological approach didn’t comfort her any, but she grudgingly admitted he was right. “I suppose so,” she
said, her mouth tightening.
“If things don’t straighten themselves out you can always come home.”
The implication was there that Sam would always be waiting for her, but Meggie chose to ignore the unspoken suggestion.
“No, Dad,” she said in a lowered voice. “My home is in Portland now. Whatever happens between Quinn and me has nothing to
do with returning home.”
A lengthy pause followed. “Whatever you think is best.” There was a note of finality in his voice as if he had completely
accepted the fact that she would never marry Sam.
Their conversation lasted only a few minutes longer. After replacing the receiver, Meggie sat in her living room, oblivious
to all that was happening around her. The whole world could have gone into a tailspin and she wouldn’t have noticed or cared.
The look of such deep pain in Jill’s eyes continued to haunt Meggie. How could Quinn be so insensitive to his daughter? It
cut at her heart as sharply and painfully as a knife slicing into her flesh.
Jill did her best to pretend she hadn’t heard Quinn, but she didn’t fool Meggie. Not for a second.
Quinn had been shocked too and reacted with anger. “What are you doing here?” he’d demanded of Jill.
“I . . . I forgot one of my schoolbooks that I need Monday. Hariette drove me back . . . but you were gone and I didn’t have
my key. I thought Meggie might know where you were. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” she had murmured abjectly.
“You didn’t,” Meggie had interjected, her dark eyes shifting to Quinn, glittering with anger.
“No, as a matter of fact, you didn’t,” Quinn had concurred. “I was just leaving, wasn’t I, Meggie?”
“Yes . . . yes, you were,” she’d said. Her trembling fingers had remained clenching the doorknob; she’d opened the door wider,
indicating she was ready, more than ready, to have him leave. Without another word he’d walked out of the apartment.
That was the last time Meggie had spoken to Quinn. Three days. Three of the longest days of her life. They met every morning
at the elevator, treating each other like polite strangers. Neither speaking, ignoring one another so completely no one would
have guessed that only a few days before they had openly declared their love and talked of marriage and children. Meggie didn’t
know how much longer they could continue like this. It was ridiculous and yet she hadn’t the courage to make things any different.
When Jill didn’t show up the following weekend, Meggie phoned Hariette and was told that Jill had a bad case of the flu and
would probably be fine by next Friday. When subtly questioned, the woman assured Meggie that other than the flu, Jill had
behaved in a perfectly normal way during the week. It was only Thursday night that Jill had come down with the flu.
Monday morning, the thick, gray clouds matched the gloom in Meggie’s heart. She met Quinn outside the elevator and the silence
that stretched between them gnawed at her soul. Wordlessly they stepped inside the vacant doors together. Mechanically Quinn
punched the button for the bottom floor for both of them. Meggie concentrated her gaze on the illuminating light that indicated
the floor number rather than look at Quinn.
They had begun the descent when suddenly the elevator jerked, everything went dark and a piercing bell began to ring.
With a cry of fright, Meggie covered her ears and instinctively moved to Quinn’s side. “What’s happening, what’s wrong?” she
cried urgently.
His arms wrapped around her automatically, pulling her into his protective embrace. “I don’t know,” he murmured.
The bell stopped and Meggie uncovered her ears.
“It must be a power outage,” Quinn said, confirming Meggie’s own assessment of the situation.
It was black as pitch inside the tiny cubicle and impossible to see beyond a few feet. Not that it mattered. Meggie wouldn’t
have moved; she was in Quinn’s arms again and no matter what needed to be said between them, no matter what the outcome—it
felt so right.
Without self-directing thought, her arms slid around his waist as she laid her head against his chest; his heartbeat hammering
evenly against her ear was soothing and comforting.
“If this is what it takes to get you back in my arms then I hope the power never comes back on again,” Quinn murmured against
her hair. His mouth sought her temple, gently caressing the soft skin at the side of her face.
With a supreme effort of her will, Meggie gave a faint cry and pulled herself free. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark enough
to see the weary look come over Quinn. It was crazy. She saw him every day, yet it took one glance in a dark elevator for
her to see how troubled he was. Lines pinched his mouth; his eyes were dull and so weary she longed to ease the ache from
him. He was slouched forward as if carrying a load heavier than any man was meant to support.
Meggie bit into her bottom lip, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, Quinn,” she mumbled miserably. Tentatively she reached out
a hand, gently massaging his face, exploring the lines of his jaw and chin.
A rough hand stopped her, taking her palm to his lips. “Meggie, I love you,” he murmured with such tenderness it nearly caused
her to weep.
“Oh, Quinn,” she managed on a sniffle.
“Here we go with the ‘Oh, Quinns’ again,” he teased.
Meggie attempted to laugh, but the sound was more of a strangled noise that came deep from within her throat. “I’ve been so
miserable without you. We’ve got to talk, make things right with Jill.”
Quinn stiffened against her, gently pushing her away. “Things are never going to be right between Jill and me,” he said in
an abrupt, clipped voice. “It’s unfortunate if she heard me the other night, but I didn’t say anything she doesn’t already
know.”
Meggie stood like a statue, so incredibly shocked she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could barely think. “I don’t believe
I’m hearing this,” she said in a tightly controlled voice. “What could this child possibly have done for you to dislike her
so intensely?”
Quinn was quiet for a long moment. “Jill isn’t my daughter.”
Meggie’s eyes rounded incredulously. “Of course, she’s your daughter,” she countered. “A hundred times I’ve seen you in her,
the way she says things, the way she looks sometimes, that spark of determination in her eye.”
Quinn’s returning laugh held little humor. “That isn’t my look you see in Jill. It’s Nelson Bennett.” Quinn’s hand reached
for hers. “It’s a long story and it looks like we might be here for a while.” He removed his coat and spread it on the elevator
floor. “Let’s sit down.”
Meggie sat. Quinn placed a hand around her, cradling her in the crook of his arm. He was quiet for so long, she wondered if
he’d changed his mind.
“My parents were killed in a car accident when I was nineteen,” he began after several minutes. By the way he spoke, Meggie
could hear how difficult it was for him to relate the story. “It’s an emotional time in anyone’s life, but I was fortunate
to have known their love. My two younger brothers and little sister went to live with an aunt. I helped out as much as I could
but was drafted soon afterwards. While I was in Vietnam and Thailand, Ansan and Cal graduated and made lives for themselves.
By the time I returned Diana was fifteen. I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful fifteen-year-old than Diana. But she lacked
guidance in her life, she ran around with the wrong crowd, experimented with drugs until eventually she was hooked. Nelson
Bennett was her connection. I met Laura, Jill’s mother, through Diana. She was older and had been around. When Laura told
me she was pregnant, I didn’t doubt I was the father. After we got married I wanted Diana to come and live with us, but Laura
was having a difficult time with the pregnancy and didn’t want my kid sister around.” He paused and Meggie could feel the
tension building inside of him. His grip on her tightened as he fought to control his emotion, as if reliving this was more
painful than she would ever know. “I had been accepted into the police academy by this time. Having a cop for a brother was
a joke to Diana; she openly flaunted her involvement with drugs, knowing I’d never arrest her. If I’d known at the time it
was Nelson who was supplying her I would have done anything I could to have stopped him.
“Six months after Laura and I were married Jill was born. In the beginning I may have had some fatherly interest in her, but
I doubt it. She was a sickly baby, crying all the time. I don’t know that I even held her more than once or twice. She didn’t
seem any more inclined toward me than I was toward her.
“Jill was only a few months old when Diana overdosed. I was the one who found her, the needle still in her vein.” He stopped
and Meggie could hear him inhaling deep breaths at the memory. “I didn’t rest until I found who’d sold her the drugs. I was
like a madman hunting Nelson Bennett down, not sleeping, not eating, working day and night. By the time I found him I’d collected
enough evidence to put him away for life. Not long after the trial Laura and I had a big fight and she told me I wasn’t Jill’s
father, Nelson was. Again and again she screamed that I was responsible for Nelson’s prison term. In the beginning I wanted
to believe she had said it out of some twisted hatred for me, but as time wore on I could see it was the truth. Every time