Letters from Peaceful Lane (New Americana 3)

She glanced at her watch. It was early yet. Brianna’s flight wouldn’t be landing until midafternoon. Once Burke’s daughter arrived at the house, reading Kate’s letters would be out of the question. But there was time to read one now.

Allison hadn’t meant to read the next letter so soon. But with Burke pushing her away, Garrett pursuing his own agenda, and Brianna about to blow in like an unpredictable storm, she needed a steady voice, a voice she could trust.

Right now, that voice was Kate’s.

CHAPTER 5

The second letter had been mailed fifteen months after the first. Allison could feel a slight stiffness inside the blue envelope. When she tugged at the pages, a photograph fell out, fluttering facedown onto Burke’s desk. She recognized Kate’s handwriting on the back.

Brianna, age 4, with Captain

Turning the photo over, Allison found herself looking at the image of a child with challenging eyes and unruly russet curls. She was hugging a furry black puppy with outsized paws. Even given the difference in size and age, Allison recognized the huge black dog from the family picture in Brianna’s room. Laying the photo to one side, she slid the pages out of the envelope, braced herself for what she might discover, and began to read.

Dearest Burke,

If you’ve looked at the picture, you’ll know that we have a new family member. Captain is a registered Newfoundland retriever. He’s going to get bigger—a lot bigger. But he’s a water dog, so he’ll be great in the boat. And Brianna is already head over heels in love with him.

I probably should’ve asked you first. But after the past wonderful weeks with you at home, Brianna was desolate when you left. You know what a daddy’s girl she is. She wouldn’t stop moping. I tried taking her out for burgers and movies. I even took her to Silver Dollar City for a day of old-fashioned rides and treats. Nothing could make up for missing you. That was when I thought of getting her a puppy. She

brightened right up.

We found a book with pictures of dog breeds, and I asked her to show me the kind of dog she wanted. I expected her to choose something little and cute. But when she saw the photo of an animal that looked like a huge, shaggy bear, there was no changing her mind. When it comes to stubbornness, she’s your daughter through and through. I found a good breeder in Springfield, and we came home with Captain. So far, he’s been a good boy. He’s very calm, doesn’t bark much, and is learning to go potty outside. He and Brianna are inseparable. He even sleeps in her room. So whether you like it or not, my darling husband, I’m afraid the dog is here to stay. Just know that your little girl is happy.

As for your big girl . . . Where should I begin?

It’s late here. Brianna and her new friend are asleep. I’m sitting up in bed, using a clipboard from your desk for a writing surface. The doors to the balcony are open to let in the fresh air. I know you’ve warned me about going to sleep without locking them, but I can see the full moon reflecting on the lake, and it’s so beautiful, I can’t stand the thought of shutting myself away from it.

After the last three weeks of having you here, this big bed feels cold and empty. I’ll never get used to having you gone, but I’m learning to accept it as the price of being your wife. And even though you spent a lot of hours at the office, didn’t we have a wonderful time while you were here? I loved taking the boat out on the lake and fishing for bass with Brianna. She was so excited when she caught a fish, and you made such a wonderful fuss over her—taking the fish home and grilling it for her dinner.

And the nights . . . oh, my sainted aunt, even the memory makes me blush! In the bed, in the shower, and even on the bedroom balcony with the moon smiling down on us—if the moon can truly smile. I know I was smiling at the time. Even thinking about it now makes me tingle—your body, the way you held me, the little sound you made when you climaxed . . .

We got pretty wild, which comes to the second reason I’m writing this letter (the dog being first). I was planning to keep the news to myself a little longer, but you know me. I’m no good at keeping secrets. So I’ll just end the suspense and tell you.

The test I bought and used was positive.

I’m pregnant.

The letter ended with a few affectionate lines. Allison folded the pages, slipped them back into the envelope, along with the photo, and buried her face in her hands.

What had possessed her to read this letter—or any of the letters? Kate’s tender, intimate words were powerful enough to crush her. She would remember them every time she looked at Burke, and whenever they made love—if it ever happened again. Burke had belonged to Kate in a way that he would never belong to Allison. Maybe he was right in asking for a divorce. Maybe she was wrong in refusing.

Forcing herself to move, she put the letter back with the others and shoved the manila envelope into the rear of the file drawer. Burke had never mentioned a second baby. Clearly, something had gone wrong—a miscarriage or an even more tragic loss. Did she want to learn more, or was she better off not knowing?

In the kitchen, Allison found an opened bottle of Chardonnay from the party. Feeling raw inside, she poured three fingers into a glass, walked back through her perfect living room, and stepped out onto the first-floor balcony. The alcohol in the wine burned her throat as she sipped from the glass.

Leave the letters alone, she told herself. You’re already dealing with enough grief.

The autumn breeze had taken on a chill. Allison shivered beneath the light denim jacket she was still wearing from her walk. She checked her watch again. She still had plenty of time before Brianna’s flight was due.

In a way, it was good to have Brianna coming, if only for a few days. With Burke’s daughter around, there’d be no temptation to open that Pandora’s box and read more of those heartbreaking letters—letters that she should never have touched in the first place.

She was walking back to the kitchen when her cell phone jangled. Startled, she pulled it out of her pocket. The call was from the hospital.

“Mrs. Caldwell.” The voice was a woman’s. “This is Dr. Moorcroft. Your husband’s had a setback. We’ve got him stabilized now, but you may want to come to the hospital and be here when he wakes up.”

Allison’s heart slammed. “I’ll be right there. What happened?”

“He was having chest pains and shortness of breath. At first we thought it might be a heart attack, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. We think it was more likely a bad reaction to the pain medication, or the anesthesia—maybe even some injury we’ve missed. We’ve put him on oxygen and given him a sedative while we finish testing.”