Letters from Peaceful Lane (New Americana 3)

“Yes, I was. Did we decide on a time?”

“That’s up to you. Mornings or afternoons?”

“Afternoons would be better,” she said after a moment’s thought. “That way I can make sure Burke is up and around before I leave.”

“That’s fine. How’s Burke coming along these days?”

“Still in pain, but he’s determined to get back to normal. He’ll be working from his study for a while—you’ll

no doubt be hearing from him.” Allison sank onto the edge of the bed. The encounter with Burke had left her shaken, and Garrett’s phone call wasn’t helping.

“I don’t suppose you’ve talked to him about the contract, have you? We’ve been hoping you could change his mind.”

The we was not lost on Allison. “Not yet,” she said. “But I did tell him I was taking the job. He wasn’t happy about it. Don’t worry, he’ll come around.” That part was a lie. But if she was going to work with Garrett and his mobster friends, lying was something she’d have to get used to.

“We can talk more tomorrow,” she said. “Shall we say one o’clock?”

“Sure. I’ll tell Monica to get everything ready for you. Again, glad to have you aboard, Allison.”

After ending the call, Allison sank backward onto the bed. She wasn’t ready for this. But somebody had to keep those slime balls from taking over the American Heartland and Burke’s other holdings. She’d volunteered, and now it was time for her to deliver.

She could only hope that Burke would forgive her once he heard the whole story. But she had never known Burke to be a forgiving man.

As she turned over, thinking maybe she should get up and go for a walk to calm her nerves, she heard a faint crackle from beneath the mattress, where she’d hidden the packet of letters.

Maybe reading Kate’s words would lend her the courage she needed.

Standing for a moment, she worked the manila envelope out from between the mattress and box spring, then sat down and drew out the next letter, this one in a peach-colored envelope.

Her own life had been so hectic over the past few days that it took a moment’s thought to remember the details of Kate’s last letter. Then the memory came into focus. Kate had sunk into depression after losing her baby and learning that there could be no more children. Her pastor had recommended a support group, and she’d planned to go.

The support group must have been helpful. The first letter Allison had read, the one telling Burke that she had cancer, had been written by a loving wife at peace with herself and her marriage. Kate had come a long way from the despairing woman who’d described her life as joyless. Maybe this letter would lend some insight into her journey.

As she slid the letter out of its envelope, Allison glanced at the postmark. This letter had been mailed six weeks after the last one she’d read.

Dear Burke,

Thank you for coming home and trying to make things better for me. I appreciate your efforts—taking Brianna and me out in the boat and to dinner at the Chateau, inviting our friends over for a cookout, and treating me far better than I deserved.

I sensed your frustration when you left again. I’m aware that I was distant and withdrawn when we were alone, and that even when we were making love, I seemed to be somewhere else. You asked me to explain—I couldn’t. Not to your face. That’s why I’m writing you this letter. And if my penmanship’s a bit shaky, it’s because I know that I’m about to hurt you terribly.

Burke, I had an affair. You don’t know the man and never will. He was in my support group, both of us grieving for our lost children, both of us needing comfort, and it just happened. By the time you came home, it was over. He was married and felt just as guilty as I did. We agreed that we would never contact each other again.

Allison laid the pages on the bed. Her eyes blurred with tears. Oh, Kate . . . Kate . . .

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the letter again.

So there it is. You’ve done nothing to deserve this pain. And there’s nothing I can do to make it go away. I am here, prepared to move on with whatever comes next. You can choose to forgive me or not. You can stay and hate me forever, or you can walk away. All I ask is that we do everything we can to protect Brianna. She’s so innocent, and she knows nothing about what her mother did. Please don’t let my terrible mistake destroy her.

I love you with all my heart, Burke. I realize those words won’t mean much right now. You’ll be hurt. You’ll be angry. Take your time. Work out your feelings. What happens next is up to you. I promise that whatever you decide, I will understand.

K.

Allison folded the pages and slipped them back into the envelope. With a ragged sigh, she fell back on the bed, one hand still holding the letter.

How much pain would it have taken to drive Kate into another man’s arms? And how much love would it have taken for Burke to forgive her?

Burke had forgiven her, Allison surmised. Somehow they’d stayed together and made their marriage work. The letter Kate had written after her cancer diagnosis had made that much clear.