"He didn't want to put you through another heartbreaking farewell scene," Bob said. "He thought it would be easier this way."
This wasn't happening. She had played the scene in her mind. Hal would be mesmerized by the first sight of her. She had imagined them gazing into each other's eyes, lovers sharing a marvelous knowledge that was secret from the rest of the world.
But he was gone and all that she saw were three faces gazing back at her, two with pity, Cage's with a remarkable lack of emotion.
"I don't believe you!" she cried. She dashed through the kitchen nearly falling over a chair before she pushed it aside and barreled through the back door. The yard was deserted. There were no cars on the street.
Hal was gone.
The truth hit her hard. She felt like throwing up. She felt like collapsing onto the ground and pounding her fists against the hard earth. She felt like screaming. She was swamped with disappointment.
But what had she expected? Hal was never demonstrative where his affection for her was concerned. Now, in the light of day, she realized how fanciful she had been. He hadn't made any promises not to leave. He had sealed their covenant of love with a physical expression of it. That was what she had asked of him. To have expected more was unrealistic. And it was characteristic of him to spare her the humiliation of begging him not to go. He would have wanted to avoid that for both their sakes.
Then why did she feel deserted? Bereft. Forsaken. Dejected and rejected.
And mad.
Damn good and mad. How could he leave her like this? How? How, when she had regretted that they couldn't even finish the night lying in each other's arms?
Jenny stood on the cracked sidewalk staring at the empty street. How could he have left her so blithely, without so much as a good-bye? Was she no more important to him than that? If he loved her—
The thought brought her mind to an abrupt standstill. Did he love her? Truly love her? Did she love him the way she should? Or was it as Cage had suggested last night? Had she and Hal merely drifted into the relationship everyone had expected of them, one that was convenient to her because it was safe, and convenient to him because it didn't cost him time away from his ministerial duties?
What a dismal thought.
She strove to push it aside. Why couldn't she dwell on the happiness she had basked in last night in the aftermath of their love?
But the ambiguities wouldn't be swept under the rug. They stayed there in the forefront of her mind and she realized that before Hal came home, she had to reach some conclusions. It would be foolhardy to enter into a marriage harboring the kind of doubts she had. The union of their bodies had been glorious, but she knew that wasn't the soundest foundation on which to base a marriage. And she had been dopey with the sedative. Maybe she was remembering the lovemaking as more earth shaking than it had actually been. Maybe it had all been an erotic, drug-induced dream.
Turning on her heel to return to the house, she almost collided with Cage, who had come up behind her so silently she hadn't realized he was there.
She almost jumped under the impact of his stare.
He was studying her from beneath a hood of dusty blond brows. The golden brown eyes were as unflinching and unblinking as a great cat's. He was motionless, completely motionless, until one corner of his mouth lifted involuntarily.
Jenny attributed that telltale gesture to regret and remorse. Was he feeling sorry for her because she had failed to persuade Hal to stay at home? Was that how everyone in town would see her, a pitifully forsaken lover, pining away for the man whose life's work was more important than she?
Irked by the thought, she tore her eyes from Cage's stare, straightened her shoulders, and tried to go around him. He sidestepped and blocked her path.
"Are you all right, Jenny?" His brows were pulled down into a low V over his eyes. His squint lines were pronounced. His jaw looked as hard as granite.
"Of course," she said brightly, faking a huge smile. "Why shouldn't I be?"
He shrugged. "Hal left you without saying good-bye. He's gone."
"But he'll be back. And he was right to go like that, make a clean break. I couldn't have stood to tell him a final goodbye." She wondered if her statements sounded as false to him as they did to her.
"Did you talk to him last night?"
"Yes."
"And?" he probed.
Her smile faltered and her eyes skittered away from the penetrating power of his. "And he made me feel much better about things. He wants to get married as soon as he gets back."
It wasn't quite a lie. It wasn't quite the truth either, and Cage's searching eyes told her he wasn't convinced. She brushed past him hurriedly. "Did you eat any breakfast? I'll fix you something. Two eggs over easy?"
He smiled, pleased. "You remember how I like them?"