Chapter Twenty-Six
Summer Hill, Virginia 1970
Olivia knew it wouldn’t work. It couldn’t possibly actually happen. But the idea of going back in time was a wonderful concept. Ever since she’d seen the business card, her mind hadn’t stopped working. All the things she’d do differently kept running through her thoughts. She would prepare for the life she wanted, not the one she’d had, but the one with Kit.
As she’d driven the women to the house on—she smiled at the absurdity of the name—“Everlasting Street” she’d told herself it was all ridiculous. But that didn’t quieten her mind. When she talked to that young woman, Arrieta, that should have reinforced that it was all a made-up fairy tale.
Instead, it was as though she had been energized. Her foremost thought was that if after three weeks she forgot what had happened, then she’d have to fix things so they couldn’t be changed. She’d make them legal. Permanent, meaning marriage, and if she was to study psychology, she’d have to enroll in college.
Three weeks before Kit had been picked up by the military would probably be sometime in July, but she wasn’t sure of the date. The children had been there and those dear old men, and Bill and Nina, and... She took a breath. Her beloved parents were still alive. But back then, she and Kit hadn’t noticed anyone else. They were young and in love, and they’d sneaked away at every possible opportunity to have glorious sex.
Olivia closed her eyes tighter. She never wanted to open them, didn’t want to see Arrieta’s face, didn’t want to hear her say, “I don’t know what went wrong.” That’s what all charlatans said, didn’t they? Then they asked for more money.
And there’d be poor Elise, crying because all hope of escaping what was coming with her father was gone. How did one prove sanity when you had people who supposedly loved you telling the world that you were flat-out crazy?
Kathy was facing a life of being labeled as Ray Hanran’s castoff. After having met him, Olivia was sure that no one would believe that Kathy had been the one to want to get away from him. No, everyone would believe she was inadequate. Couldn’t hold her man. That was going to destroy her self-esteem.
Olivia squeezed her eyes very tight, knowing that she was deepening the lines that radiated out across her face. Ah, old age. The things you have to worry about.
“The cat broke them,” said a child’s voice.
“It was a demon cat,” said another child. “Green with purple spots that glow in the dark.”
“And it flies,” the first child added.
Olivia didn’t open her eyes, but at the memory of those deliciously familiar voices, the tears started coming. She let them find their way out and run down her cheeks.
“We’re sorry,” Ace whispered.
He always did have a soft heart, Olivia thought. Her face was wet and she was much too scared to open her eyes. Had she wished so hard that she’d conjured them? Like in some voodoo spell?
“Livie!” It was Letty’s voice of command. She had always been the leader of the two children.
Olivia swallowed hard and very slowly opened her eyes. But they were so full of tears she had to blink several times before she could see.
She was sitting under the big magnolia tree on an old oak chair that had been left outside for years. In her lap was a bowl of green beans that she’d been snapping into pieces. To her right was the garden, lush with vegetables that were to be harvested. She could see the corner of the house. It needed to be painted.
In front of her were the two children, Ruth and Kyle, aka Letty and Ace. Letty had on her look of defiance, her dark brows drawn together, while Ace looked a bit guilty for not telling the truth about the broken eggs in the basket.
How beautiful they are! Olivia thought. Why hadn’t she remembered what extraordinarily good-looking children they were? She could see Tate, the child Letty would someday give birth to, in the girl’s face. Under her sweetly rounded cheeks were Tate’s sculpted cheekbones.
As for Ace, he was blond and blue-eyed, and he’d grow up to be an excellent doctor. He cared about every one of his patients, about all of Summer Hill.
“What’s wrong with you?” Letty demanded. Her pushiness was covering her guilt that she and Ace had yet again broken every egg they’d collected.
Slowly, Olivia put the bowl of beans on the ground.
The children were watching her odd behavior and she could read their minds. Were they going to be punished with no brownies, or would Livie run off with Kit and forget about their latest transgression?
When Olivia stood up, she gasped. There was no stiffness in her joints, no catch in her left knee from where she’d hurt it while trying to slide a washing machine out of the way.
She took a quick step to the side. Her body was all suppleness and grace, easy of movement. Lifting her arms, she did a pirouette. Laughing, she held out her hands to the children.
They were puzzled, but Letty dropped the basket of broken eggs, nodded to Ace, and they took Olivia’s hands. She danced all the way around the tree with them. “Can I still sing?” she wondered aloud. When growing up, when she’d been absolutely, totally sure how her life was going to go, she’d taken voice lessons.
Arrieta had said that songs and stories wouldn’t be remembered, so she started singing “Let It Go” from the movie Frozen. The children quickly picked up the tune and the words. Letty yelled the lyrics with great feeling. Ace sang his line about not minding the cold with a funny little flip of defiance. And when the three of them belted out the title, the rooster and the peacock joined in so loudly they sounded like barnyard musicians. Livie and the children leaped and twirled and sang at the top of their lungs.
It wasn’t until the fourth chorus that Olivia saw that Uncle Freddy and Mr. Gates were at the edge of the shade and watching them in astonishment. Abruptly, Olivia halted.
When she’d been young, she’d thought the men were very old, ancient even. But now she saw them differently. Late seventies, early eighties. Not that old. And they looked healthy. She knew that both of them would live another eleven years—and they’d leave the earth within months of each other. She also knew that at their funerals the town would hear of all the good the men had done. All the fruits and vegetables that Olivia had paid no attention to had been given to anyone in town who needed them.
Uncle Freddy had quietly helped several high school students get into college. One of the reasons he hadn’t been able to keep a housekeeper-cook was because his big house was an unofficial way station for people in abusive situations. At his funeral there were a dozen weeping women telling how Uncle Freddy had helped them escape terrible lives. As for Mr. Gates, he was the one who made sure everything got done.
When she’d been twenty-two and angry at the world for delaying her plan of becoming a Broadway superstar, Olivia had been unaware of what was going on with these people. All she’d cared about were her own wants. And Kit. And more Kit.
But now, at her age, she had learned that people don’t exist alone. She hadn’t been aware of it when Kit abruptly left, but the grief hadn’t been hers alone. It had been deep for all of them.
Olivia stood there, holding tightly on to the small, precious hands of the children and she began to cry. Not ladylike tears, but bawling. She dropped to her knees, put her hands over her face, and cried hard and loud.
It was when Ace began to cry too that Olivia pulled him into her arms. “I’m happy,” she said. “I’m very, very glad to be here. I love all of you so much.” She pulled Letty to her.
“Did someone die?” Letty whispered in fear.
Olivia knew the child meant Ace’s mother, who would hold on until the fall. “No! Everyone is alive and well and happy.”
“Are we going to play records and dance some more?” Ace’s voice was full of hope.
“We can.” Olivia started kissing the children’s sweet, dirty, sweaty faces.
Ace looked to Letty to see if that was okay, but she was looking at Olivia in speculation. Usually, Livie was either grumpy or hurrying so she could run off with Kit. She never had time for something as silly as dancing around a tree.
“Got any of that sugar for us?” Mr. Gates asked.
With her arms around the children, she looked at the men, Uncle Freddy in his wheelchair, Mr. Gates with his hand on the back. Livie stood up, again marveling at how easy the movement was, and went to them. She hugged Mr. Gates, gave him big, loud kisses on both cheeks, then did the same with Uncle Freddy.
She stepped back, took the children’s hands in hers, and said, “Who wants mac and cheese for lunch?” When they looked blank, she said, “Macaroni and cheese?” and they nodded. It was 1970, and the US hadn’t yet started shortening every word. Invitation to invite, vacation to vacay, mayonnaise to mayo, tarpaulin to tarp, et cetera. All those would come with the invention of the cell phone.
“Kit’s working in the orchard,” Mr. Gates said softly, bringing her back to where she was.
For a moment, Olivia had to fight the urge to run to him, but she didn’t go. She might have a young body, but her mind was old enough to have learned that all people are important.
She was still holding tightly to the children’s hands. “I think that this afternoon I should make you two some stuffed animals. You need to see what you’re battling. My mom—” Olivia had to pause a moment to catch her breath. Her mother was alive! “My mother can come over and help us sew them. But you have to tell us what the space creatures look like. And I think we need to get Kit to make laser guns out of a couple of flashlights. We’ll use wire and plastic wrap.”
“What’s a laser?” Letty asked.
“A gun.” Ace’s eyes seeming to twirl around in circles.
Livie looked at Uncle Freddy. “Is there a camera around here somewhere? I’d like to take a thousand photos of everyone and everything. Tate and Nina will want to see—” She broke off. They didn’t yet exist.
“Who is Tate?” Letty asked.
Olivia started to say nothing, but if going back in time was true, then forgetting was also. “He’s your son, and he’s a movie star. Nina is your daughter and she has a little girl named Emma who looks very much like you.”
“Yuck,” Letty said. “I’m never going to get married.”
“I am!” Ace said. “And I’m going to have a hundred children.”
At that, Olivia laughed even harder and skipped with the children toward the house.
Mr. Gates watched them for a moment, then said, “I don’t know what got into her but I like it.”
Uncle Freddy was frowning. “Bill’s father was called Tate, for Tattington. If Letty did have a son, I could see that she’d name him Tate. And Nina could well be her daughter’s name.”
“Little early to be planning her kids, isn’t it?” Mr. Gates began to push the chair to the house. “Livie’s been around those children so long that she’s becoming as fanciful as they are.”
“It’s almost as though she’s a different person.” Uncle Freddy’s voice was soft, thoughtful.
“At least she seems to like us,” Mr. Gates said. “You think she and Kit had a fight and she’s trying to make him jealous?”
“No,” Uncle Freddy said, “I don’t. But something has happened to her! I sure wish I knew what it was.”
“Whatever it was, if it gets us... What was it? Mac and cheese? I’m all for it.”
As they rolled past the garden, Uncle Freddy pointed to the yellow squash. “You better take a basket of those over to the Willis house. How’s their new baby doing?”
“Poorly. It’s mewling a lot.”
“Then go buy some chickens to take to them. My guess is it’s the mother who needs strength.”
“That’s what Dr. Everett says. Mind if I take some berries too? The kids can pick them this afternoon.”
“While Livie and Kit are in one of their secret meetings inside the old well house?”
“That would be a perfect time for picking,” Uncle Freddy said. “Besides, the kids don’t need to hear what goes on in there.”
“To get them out of earshot of that, I’d have to take them to Richmond.”
The mutual laughter of the two men could be heard all the way inside the house.
* * *
When Olivia saw her mother, she started crying again. As though she were a toddler, she collapsed into her mother’s arms and the tears came from deep inside her body. “I love you so much.”
Tisha hugged her daughter back, and when she held her away, she too had tears in her eyes. “Let’s help the children, shall we?”
All Olivia could do was nod.
Her mother had brought her Bernina sewing machine, and the kids helped them find a plug in the baseboard of the old house. Tisha said that the whole place needed a complete remodel.
“Tate will do that,” Olivia said before she thought.
Instead of asking questions, Tisha said, “I hope he does.” But then she was smiling in a way that Olivia thought she could tell her about 9/11 and she’d still smile. It made Olivia think with regret about how she’d so rarely told her mother that she loved her.
It didn’t take long for them to set up the process of making some stuffed animals. Tisha had sewn all of Olivia’s clothes as a child, and several things she’d taken to New York had been made by her mother. At the time, Olivia had been contemptuous of them. Homemade was a derogatory word.
The children soon learned that it was Mrs. Paget who could make whatever they wanted. She put an attachment on her machine and sewed purple eyelet circles to fulfill Letty’s fantasy of a spotted creature.
Olivia loved watching them. When she’d been married to Alan, his mother had been adamant that Kevin was her grandchild, that he was no relation to Tisha Paget. At the time, Olivia had been too busy and too young to think about how her mother had been deprived of that special bond of the only grandchild she’d ever have.
It was Ace who pulled the men into the sewing. Reading glasses were found, lights turned on, and everyone was put to work.
As Olivia sewed the easy, basic seams on the old treadle machine, she began to feel, well, youth coming into her body. As the minutes ticked by, she felt herself changing. At first it had been enough to move easily and fluidly. And her mind had been full of seeing old friends and knowing their futures. In eight years her mother would call her father to dinner and when he didn’t answer, she’d find him slumped over his workbench, dead. Tisha Paget would live another eighteen years. She’d dedicate herself to the community and the church—just as Olivia had done after Alan died. The difference was that her mother had enjoyed her role. But even after Alan’s death, Olivia had been too weighed down by guilt to enjoy much of anything.
“She’s doing it again,” Ace whispered loudly to Uncle Freddy.
They all looked at Livie as yet again there were tears running down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.
Suddenly, Olivia knew that it was time to see Kit. She stood up. “I, uh...” She couldn’t think of what to say. Turning, trying to look as dignified as possible, she left the room, walked through the kitchen, and went outside.
The sun and the air felt good on her body. She had forgotten how restless she’d been as a young woman. Over the years, she’d regretted how snappy and rude she’d been that summer she stayed at Tattwell. Why couldn’t she have been kinder to the children? To the old men? Why had she been so obsessed with Kit? At times even her career had been forgotten. Later, when she went back to New York, all she could think about was him. By then she was angry at him for having left her, but still, Kit was everything.
She walked into the garden. How beautiful it was! When she reached the big old magnolia tree, she leaned against it and closed her eyes, letting herself remember the time the children had tied her and Kit up. Remembering the first time he’d kissed her. He had been angry, but what a kiss it had been! “Not a boy,” he’d said.
No. Not a boy. She hadn’t known it then, but he’d been facing what would become a heroic act of risking his life to help his country. Certainly not the act of a boy.
With her eyes still closed, she breathed deeply of the soft, fragrant summer air. She could feel her body tingling. Lips, breasts, between her legs.
Over the years, she’d forgotten that feeling. She’d found pleasure in a good book, an afternoon movie, an hour away from running appliance stores. And recently, after she and Kit had married, there’d been sweet and tender sex. But it hadn’t been that hard, pounding, have-to-have-it-or-die sex of their youths.
Right now she felt that coursing through her body. The desire for it. Wanting it. Craving it. Needing it. As much as she had to breathe, she needed to feel skin on hers. Lips and tongues. She wanted her hands and mouth on the male hardness of Kit. She only wanted him.
When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t surprised to see Kit standing there. Alive, breathing, young. She’d remembered him as beautiful, but the reality was much, much more than she remembered. He had on practically nothing, exposing skin that was a luscious golden brown. He was all lean muscle.
She looked down at his bare feet and went upward, savoring every inch of him. The bulge that was barely covered by his low-slung shorts was growing. Big and pressing against the cloth. Hungry.
When she reached his face, she saw a heat that she barely remembered. This is why teenagers are all over each other, she thought. We adults forget this surging, pulsing, utterly uncontrollable desire.
She could feel her body moving toward his. It was as though a rope had been tied to the middle of her and he held the end of it.
He didn’t speak, just gave a quick movement of his head. The rope was pulled.
Part of Olivia knew she was a rational being. She’d been an adult who’d cautioned young people against following their “base instincts.”
“You just have to say no,” she’d told teenagers at church. How pompous she’d been!
As she followed Kit to wherever he was leading her—and she didn’t care where it was—had someone tried to stop her, she would have used a gun on them. What she was feeling was as primitive as a fight for survival.
When they were at the back of the property, Kit halted and put his hand out to her. Taking it, she felt his touch through her entire body. She threw back her head and laughed from pure joy. She was here and now and the man she would love forever was with her.
Kit smiled, but he asked no questions. Instead, he began to run. He left Tattwell, stepping over the old fence, then led them through the woods that used to surround the plantation. Olivia knew that in the eighties a developer would plow most of the big trees down and build some boring little houses.
With a jolt, she realized where he was leading them. “River House,” she said. Kit was silently asking if that was all right.
Olivia hadn’t believed that her happiness could be increased, but it was. This was the day they’d sneaked over the stone wall to Camden Hall. Today they’d make the memory that Olivia had repeated with Elise. I mustn’t forget to leave my bra behind, she thought, and laughed again.
At the sound, Kit tightened his grip on her hand and began to run faster. When they reached the wall, Olivia knew how to get over it. The first time, Kit had been the one to figure it out, but this time she already knew and she couldn’t wait. Back then, it had been under twenty-four hours since they’d last made mad, passionate love. But this time, it had been over forty years.
She ran along the wall, ducking under overhanging branches until she reached the big limb that went over the side. She bent her leg for Kit to give her a boost up, then he vaulted up behind her. When they stood up, for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, and her eyes flickered in anticipation.
Smiling, knowing what she wanted, he caught her about the waist and stepped past her to walk along the tree. But he didn’t kiss her.
“I’ll get you for that,” she said.
“That is my hope.” His tone was so suggestive that Olivia’s gasp made the leaves move.
When they were on the other side of the wall, Kit silently jumped down and held up his arms to catch her. As he swung her down, it was her turn to put her lips close to his, then turn away. He laughed in delight.
She knew where they were going, so she took his hand. To reach the bridge, they had to walk through water that was a lot deeper than it would be when she and Elise went through it. On the island, the ruins of the little building were still there, surrounded by trees and pretty flowers, all of them left over from when the estate was loved and lived in.
Stopping in front of the little building, she turned to Kit. As she started to say something, he grabbed her to him, his mouth coming to hers with all the passion they both felt.
In an instant, her clothes were discarded and his shorts fell to the ground. Before she could take a breath, he was inside her. Strong and fast, as only all-consuming desire—and youth—could make it.
Long, hard thrusts, so deep she thought they were hitting her heart. She was no longer a living, breathing person but something primitive, all feeling, with no thoughts.
It didn’t take long before the first round ended, then Kit picked her up, her nude body against his, and laid her down on a mossy bit of ground.
They made love again, taking their time, kissing and touching, stroking and caressing.
Exploring their young, beautiful bodies that were so full of energy and need.
When they fell back from each other, sated at last, the sun was low in the sky. This time around Olivia’d had a lifetime of being responsible for other people’s food and clothing and transportation, and with Alan, supporting the families.
“We should go,” she said softly, but she didn’t move. Her head was on Kit’s bare shoulder, her leg between his. Oh! The sweaty skin, the happy exhaustion. How had she forgotten all this?
“What’s happened to you?” Kit asked. “You’re different. What’s done this to you?” There was worry, maybe even fear, in his voice.
She took a long, slow breath to give herself time to think. If she was to make this permanent, that meant marriage. But how could she ask him to marry her? Should she tell him she knew about his secret mission that she wasn’t supposed to know about? Or tell him that it was possible she was carrying their baby? If it was true that she’d forget their alternate future, for the rest of her life she’d wonder if he married her because he felt he had to. “When are you going to leave Summer Hill? I was wondering because I have to go to New York soon.”
“About that.” His arm tightened around her. “I was thinking about... You see, I have something coming up but I don’t know exactly when it will be.”
When he said nothing else, Olivia looked at him. “That was clear. Now that we have that settled, we can go home. I need to cook—”
He didn’t let her go. “I’m here in Virginia for a reason.”
She was trying not to enjoy herself at his expense, but she was. Kit had told her how much he regretted not telling her about the mission he was to go on, and how difficult it had been to keep the secret from her. He’d said, “Back then, I thought my country was more important than you were. I was a fool!”
“And what would that be?” she asked. “Did Uncle Freddy’s family send you here to put some muscle on him?”
Kit didn’t smile. “I’m going away.”
“Oh? Anywhere interesting?”
“Olivia,” he said slowly, “I was wondering if you’d...”
She drew in her breath. Was this it? The moment she’d regretted not having for the last forty-plus years?
“Marry me before I leave.”
She drew in her breath at his words. This was different. It hadn’t happened the first time they did this. If it had, what would she have said?
Whatever the reason, this was what she wanted, but... There was something missing.
For one thing, where were the words of “love forever”? She felt herself hesitate. “We’re very young, you especially. And you have college to finish and—”
He rolled over so he was looking down at her. “I’m with the military. I can’t tell you any more than that, but they’ll come to pick me up and I’ll be away for a year. If you and I are married, they’ll tell you where I am. They’ll send my paychecks to you. They’ll—”
She lifted her head to kiss him. “Is this the only reason you want us to marry?”
Kit lay back down beside her. “You know how when you go to a car dealership and right away you know which vehicle you want? Maybe it wasn’t the one you thought you’d want but when you see it, you know.”
“Are you saying I’m like a used car?”
Again, he didn’t smile. “The day I saw you in that tight green dress and you sailed over the cabbages and ordered everyone around and cooked a second lunch just for me and—”
“You knew that?”
“You think the kids could keep that a secret?”
She laughed. “Of course they wouldn’t.”
“But it didn’t matter how you felt about me. Even if you truly believed I was a worthless boy, I still knew. You’re the one I want.”
Olivia lay on the sweet-smelling grass, looking up through the tree leaves to the sky, smiling. Kit had told her all this on their honeymoon, but how she wished she’d known it earlier. And why was it changing now? What had made him ask her this time around? It didn’t make sense. It was as though he remembered that they had been separated and he was trying to prevent that. “When?” she asked.
“Six weeks? Is that too soon?”
The military would come for him in half that time. “So you do know when they’ll pick you up?” She could feel the tiny stiffening in his body. He didn’t want to tell her more.
“No, I don’t. They said it would be in the fall.”
“What happens if we aren’t married before they show up?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I’ll go away and you won’t hear from me until I knock on your front door a year later.”
It will be three years, Olivia thought, then more time for him to recover from a vehicle turning over with him in it. She wanted to be there while he healed. She turned to face him. “Okay. Six weeks.”
Kit blinked at her a few times. “You’re saying yes? You will marry me? I never in my life believed—”
She lay back down. “Me neither. Especially with this unromantic marriage proposal. No ring, no one knee, no—”
She broke off because Kit had sat up and was now on one knee in the traditional proposal stance—which was awkward since they were both completely naked.
He picked up his shorts, put his fingers into an inside pocket, and withdrew what Olivia knew was his grandmother’s ring. It was so beautiful in its old-fashioned setting.
As she sat up, she modestly put her arm across her bare breasts, and held out her left hand. Kit slipped the ring on her finger.
Olivia couldn’t think of anything to say. This was how it should have been. This was what should have happened. Was supposed to be. If this had happened then a lot of misery would have been avoided.
The sound of a dog and a man telling it to be quiet reached them. “Young Pete!” she said in alarm. “I forgot about him. He has a shotgun.”
Just as he’d done before, Kit reacted immediately. He went into army camouflage mode, slapping mud on his face and across his chest. He put a branch in his hair, then began yelling as he ran. Olivia stood back, laughing at the sight—but then, with a jolt, she remembered Arrieta saying that sometimes people died in the past. Shotguns were serious. She grabbed their clothes, ran across the bridge, and headed for the wall. Just as in the past, Kit was there to pull her up and help her over. They ran through shady forest until they were well out of sight and hearing of Pete and his shotgun. Laughing, they couldn’t help but make love on the grass.
It was later, as they were dressing, that Kit saw that Olivia’s pretty pink bra was missing. “It’s all right.” Smiling, she thought about what Young Pete would do and the repercussions.
She looked back through the trees. They could just see the top of Camden Hall.
A wave of something very like homesickness went through her. Kit had bought the beautiful River House for her as a wedding gift. It was to be their first home together. With a sigh, she said, “I love that place. I think if I could live anywhere in the world, it would be there.”
Kit was buttoning his shirt and he tried to cover his frown, but she saw it. “If that’s what you want,” he said softly.
Olivia’s hair seemed to stand on end and anger ran through her. She did not like his tone! “I wasn’t asking you to buy it for me, if that’s what you think I was hinting at. Here! I think you should take this back.” She was tugging on the ring but it wouldn’t come off. It always did fit tightly.
Kit pulled her into his arms. “I think our lives are going to be bigger than this town. I might be like my family and live all over the world. Think you can handle that? Cairo in January? Wait until you see Bali. And Java. And—”
She pushed away from him, her annoyance showing. “That sounds great. But didn’t your family have a home base in the US?” Before he could answer, she stepped away. “I think we better get back. I need to cook dinner.”
* * *
Behind her, Kit was frowning. Something was off with Olivia but he didn’t know what it was. She was so odd today that it was as though she were a different person. As she’d run from a man with a shotgun, she’d been laughing. She seemed to think there was no real danger, that it was all a great joke.
And she’d said yes to his hurried marriage proposal. The Olivia he knew and loved would have made him work for it. Would have told him no a dozen times before she said yes. But this Olivia seemed to... Well, she hadn’t seemed surprised at his proposal. And the way she’d said yes sounded as though she was checking something off a list. Marriage seemed to be as equally important as telling the kids to wash their hands.
As for the house, he knew a hint when he heard it. Before, she’d been contemptuous of his background. But today, she seemed to want him to buy her an estate. Did the fact that he could afford such a large place have anything to do with her acceptance of his proposal?
No, not possible, he told himself. There had to be another reason for the way she was acting.
He caught up with her before they reached the broken fence at Tattwell, and he held her arm. “If something were wrong, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, of course. It’s just that I have a lot of things to do.” I have to get Alan and his mistress together, she thought. I must make up to Kevin for what I did to him as a child! I have to arrange for my future.
With every second, what she must do was becoming stronger in her mind. With a weak smile, she peeled Kit’s hand off her arm.
“Tonight—”
She cut him off. “I think you and I should cool it for a while with the sex. I wouldn’t want to get pregnant.”
Kit was astonished at her words. “You know I always use protection.”
“I really do have to go. I have people to feed.” Turning, she ran ahead of him toward the house.
Kit watched her run. “‘Cool it’?” he whispered. “Who are you? And what did you do with my Olivia?”