Treasured. Sherryl Woods

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      “Why not?” she asked, proving she was better at the game than he was.

      “Because the only one who ever mattered died,” he said quietly.

      Sympathy immediately filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

      “I’m surprised Destiny didn’t fill you in,” he said, glancing in his aunt’s direction. Though Destiny was engaged in conversation with Richard, it was obvious she was keeping one ear attuned to what was going on between him and Kathleen. She gave him a quizzical look.

      “Nothing,” Ben said for her benefit. He almost regretted letting the conversation veer away from the safe topic of art. But since Kathleen had sidestepped his question as neatly as he’d initially avoided hers, he went back to it. “Why is there no special man in your life?”

      “I was married once. It didn’t work out.”

      There was a story there. He could see it in her face, hear it in the sudden tension in her voice. “Was it so awful you decided never to try it again?”

      “Worse,” she said succinctly. She met his gaze. “We were doing better when we were sticking to art.”

      Ben laughed. “Yes, we were, weren’t we? I was just thinking the same thing, though I imagine there are those who think all the small talk is just avoidance.”

      “Avoidance?”

      “Two people dancing around what really matters.”

      Kathleen flushed. “I’m perfectly willing to avoid delving into my personal life. How about you?”

      “Suits me,” he said easily, though a part of him was filled with regret. “Want to debate about the talent of the Impressionists versus the Modernists?”

      She frowned. “Not especially.”

      “Know anything about politics?”

      “Not much.”

      “Environmental issues?”

      “I think global warming is a real risk,” she said at once.

      “Good for you. Anything else?”

      She held up a forkful of turkey. “The food’s delicious.”

      “I was thinking more in terms of another environmental issue,” he teased.

      “Sorry. You’re fresh out of luck. I could argue the merits of free-range turkey over the frozen kind,” she suggested cheerfully. “Everyone says free-range is healthier, but they’re just as dead, so how healthy is that?”

      Ben chuckled. “Now there’s a hot-button topic, if ever I heard one.”

      “You don’t have to be sarcastic,” she said. “I told you I have a one-track mind.”

      “And it’s totally focused on art,” Ben said. “I think I get that.” He studied her thoughtfully. “This man you were married to, was he an artist?”

      She stiffened visibly. “As a matter of fact, he was.”

      Ben should have taken comfort in that. If an artist had hurt Kathleen so badly that she wasn’t the least bit interested in marriage, then he should be safe enough from all of Destiny’s clever machinations. She’d miscalculated this time. Oddly, though, he didn’t feel nearly as relieved as he should. In fact, he felt a powerful urge to go find this man who’d hurt Kathleen and wring his neck.

      “People get over bad marriages and move on,” he told her quietly.

      “Have you gotten over losing the woman you loved?”

      “No, but it’s different.”

      “Different how?”

      Ben hesitated. They were about to enter into an area he never discussed, not with anyone. Somehow, though, he felt compelled to tell Kathleen the truth. “I blame myself for her death,” he said.

      Kathleen looked momentarily startled by the admission. “Did you cause her death?”

      He smiled sadly at the sudden hint of caution in her voice. “Not the way you mean, no, but I was responsible just the same.”

      “How?”

      “We argued. She was drunk and I let her leave. She ran her car into a tree and died.” He recited the bare facts without emotion, watching Kathleen’s face. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look shocked or horrified. Rather she looked indignant.

      “You can’t blame yourself for that,” she said fiercely. “She was an adult. She should have known better than to get behind the wheel when she was upset and drunk.”

      “People who are drunk are not known for their logic. I could have stopped her. I should have,” Ben countered as he had to every other person who’d tried to let him off the hook.

      “Really? How? By taking away the car keys?”

      “That would have done it,” he said bleakly, thinking how simple it would have been to prevent the tragedy that had shaped the last three years of his adult life.

      “Or she would have waited a bit, then found your keys and taken your car,” Kathleen countered.

      “It might have slowed her down, though, given her time to think.”

      “As you said yourself, it doesn’t sound to me as if she was thinking all that rationally.”

      Ben sighed. No, Graciela hadn’t been thinking rationally, but neither had he. He’d known her state of mind was irrational that night, that she was feeling defensive and cornered at having been caught with her lover. He’d told her to get out anyway. Not only hadn’t he taken those car keys from her, he’d all but tossed her out the door and put her behind the wheel.

      “It hardly matters now,” he said at last. “I can’t change that night.”

      Kathleen looked directly into his eyes. “No,” she said softly. “You can’t. The only thing you can do—the thing you must do—is put it behind you.”

      Ben wanted desperately to accept that, to let go of the past as his entire family had urged him to do, but blaming himself was too ingrained. Absolution from a woman he’d known a few hours counted for nothing.

      He forced his gaze away from Kathleen and saw Destiny and his brothers watching him intently, as if they’d sensed or even heard what Ben and Kathleen had been discussing and were awaiting either an explosion or a sudden epiphany. He gave them neither.

      Instead, he lifted his glass of water. “To good company and wonderful food. Thanks, Destiny.”

      “To Destiny,” the others echoed.

      Destiny beamed at him, evidently satisfied that things were working out exactly as she’d intended. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

      Ben СКАЧАТЬ