one in the mountains, crammed to the rafters with people and laughter. With a sense of permanence. Of family.
Matt still remembered how it felt, living in the midst of the Baldwin clan. Their house had never been quiet or empty.
Shoving the memories aside, he pulled the car into the garage and walked into the kitchen, losing his keys, his wallet and his tie as he went. Upstairs in his bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and started working on the buttons of his shirt, the eerie quiet getting louder and louder with every passing minute.
Maybe what he needed was a woman. Someone to come home to, to fill the empty rooms and chase away the silence.
Glancing across the room at the big, wide bed, he imagined her waiting there for him on the nights when he came home really late. She’d have pillows propped against the headboard, one small light burning on the bedside table, a book in her lap.
Her hair would be long and loose, the light from the lamp glinting off of it. In his mind’s eye, he could see it so clearly, the image as enticing as any dream he’d ever had.
The woman lifted her head, smiled at him and held out her arms to him.
Cathie, he realized.
He was thinking of Cathie in his bed.
Matt knew what he had to do. He had to help her and then forget about her. He sure wasn’t letting her anywhere near his bed, even in his imagination.
There had to be a way to help.
It turned out to be so simple, he couldn’t believe it took him so long.
Money.
He had plenty, and she didn’t. She’d have doctor bills, tuition, child care, rent, utilities, diapers, all kinds of stuff. He wanted her out of that lousy neighborhood, too. Matt could do all that. She wouldn’t like it, but he simply wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. If her father hadn’t refused his help when Jim Baldwin had been so ill, Cathie would have finished college by now and maybe even been married. A baby wouldn’t have been a problem.
Matt was back on her doorstep shortly after eight the next morning, telling himself money was the answer. It was easy, too. He could write a check. He wouldn’t even have to see her again. Money. He was excited for the first time in years that he had so much of it.
Cathie opened the door wearing a pair of pale yellow, cottony pajamas. “Hi.”
She looked soft and rumpled, cold and dangerously touchable. Her hair was loose and falling around her shoulders, her eyes puffy and red and sad, and it seemed she’d come straight from her bed. He stared. She folded her arms across her breasts, as if to hide herself as best she could. He really had to stop thinking about her this way.
“When I heard the knock, I was sure my mother was here,” she said, stepping back to let him inside.
“I stalled as best I could, but it’s not going to work for long.”
“So, she’s on her way? Or is she waiting for you to report back to her?”
“She’s supposed to wait for you to call, but you know your mother.”
Matt wanted to know what her boyfriend said when she’d told him the news, wanted to know if she’d come to any decisions. But she looked like a stiff breeze could knock her over this morning, and he didn’t want to push.
“Have you had anything to eat?”
“No,” she admitted, wrapping herself up in a sweater that was thrown over the back of the sofa.
Good, he thought. Cover up.
“We could go get some breakfast,” he suggested. Get out of this apartment. Go somewhere they wouldn’t be alone.
“Matt, you don’t have to do this,” she said, a hurt look in her eyes that always managed to cut him to pieces. “I mean, I know my mother harasses you until you show up here.”
“She has. But she’s not the reason I’m here right now.”
Cathie frowned. He thought they were probably going to argue some more about his motives, when all he wanted was to keep her from kicking him out and to find out what that idiot who’d gotten her pregnant had said.
“Come on. I’m here. I’m hungry. You’re awake now. You’ve got to eat. I could cook something while you grab a shower and get dressed.”
Please, he thought, seeing bare feet and delicate pink-tinted toenails, get dressed.
She didn’t move. He could hear the faint sound of her breathing. Finally, she said, “You don’t even like me anymore.”
“Cathie.” He closed his eyes, simply unable to take the hurt he saw in her face. “I have never disliked you. Never even come close.”
Tears were glistening in her eyes the next time he looked up, and he wasn’t sure she believed him. “You thought I was a pest. You always did.”
“You were a pest.” He laughed, couldn’t hold it in. The memories were too strong. “You absolutely baffled me. Why in the world would a little girl like you give a damn about me? If you had any sense at all, you would have been scared of me and stayed away. Hell, if your whole family had any sense, they would have never let me inside your house.”
“You didn’t turn out so bad,” she said softly.
“Neither did you, Cath. Honestly, I never disliked you. Can you trust me about that, at least?” She considered him warily from across the room. “Humor me, okay? Get dressed. Let me feed you. Then, if you still want me out of here, I’ll go.”
“Promise?”
He frowned. “Do I have to promise?”
“Matt!”
“Okay.” That was a lie. He felt absolutely no guilt in telling it, not now that she needed him. It had always been her and her family doing so much for him, and him thinking he had nothing to give them in return.
Not that he’d ever have wished a situation like this on her. But still, the situation was what it was. She needed help, and he could give it to her.
“I know it’s hard,” he said. “To be in trouble and let someone help you. I’ve always wondered—why’d you do that for me? Why didn’t you give up on me and leave me alone?”
“I just couldn’t.”
He nodded, understanding exactly. “Do me a favor, Cath. Don’t make it as hard for me to help you as I made it for you to help me.”
She was quiet for a long time. It left him feeling edgy, like he might just do something crazy before he got out of here. She’d always made him a little crazy.
“Why did you come here this morning?” she asked finally.
Neatly trapped and unwilling to lie about this, he confessed. “I came to offer you money.”
She looked hurt. “It’s
