Falling for Rain Read online

  “Are you happy?” he asked against her hair.

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered simply.

  “Good,” he said. “And this is only the beginning. It’s only going to get better.” Emily nestled closer to him, her cheek pressed against his chest. She let the tears flow, and Rain felt their warmth against his skin. “Why the tears?”

  “Because I’m so happy,” she said. “And because I’ve wasted so many years being miserable, when I could have been this way instead.”

  He held her tightly. “Will you promise me something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Then no regrets,” he said emphatically. “What is past is past. We have the rest of our lives to be happy. Let’s not waste a minute bemoaning the past.”

  “I promise,” she whispered, and they made love again, slowly and gently, falling asleep in each others’ arms, the final sigh of contentment still on their lips.

  * * *

  When Emily woke in the early morning, the wind had died and the rain had stopped. She reached for Rain, but he was gone. She rolled over and placed her head in the dent of the pillow where he had so recently lain, her cheek encountering the crackle of paper. She picked it up and unfolded it, holding it up to the weak sunlight coming through the window beside the bed.

  Good morning, it read. I’ve gone to Don’s to see to the animals. After that, I have to go to the village and meet with the insurance company. In the meantime, the power is back on. Make some coffee and breakfast. Have a hot shower (I brought you some clothes from the house) and relax. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I love you. –Rain

  Emily folded the letter and put it back on the pillow. She stretched luxuriously under the covers that were redolent with the scent of their lovemaking. Her body felt so blissfully warm and satisfied. There was a delicious ache between her thighs, a poignant reminder of the previous night’s delights, the memory of which sent a shiver of excitement through her body.

  Following Rain’s suggestions, she got up and had a shower, the hot needles of water both reviving and arousing her. She felt that she had been awakened from a long night in which she had moved like a sleepwalker. It was so good to feel alive again. To be happy again. To love again. It was as if she had come through fire in the metaphorical as well as the physical sense and, like a phoenix, was now renewed. Eventually, she stepped out of the shower and, drying herself with one of the thick towels on the rack, slipped on Rain’s bathrobe.

  She put on the coffee and, while it was brewing, put more wood on the fire. It flared into a cheerful blaze while she went to pour herself a cup. This morning was the first good look she’d had at the cabin. As children, it was simply a place to play. Back then, the roof was caved in, the windows were missing, the chinking gone from between the logs. She had also come here on that awful day when she’d found her mother’s body, hiding in the empty fireplace until Rain had found her silent with shock hours later.

  Now the cabin was tight, warm, and homey. It was one big room, the bathroom being a small addition on one corner. The kitchen area with its modern appliances was toward the back. At the front, one half consisted of the bed and sitting area with the big stone fireplace, couch, and comfortable armchairs, while the other half with desk and over-flowing bookcases was clearly where he wrote. Rain’s laptop sat closed on his desk in front of the window, and she smiled as she pictured him looking out over the lake as he worked on his book.

  The floors of the cabin were broad planks of gleaming pine, the ceiling lined with dark beams. The huge logs that made up the walls were tight and weatherproof. Emily ran her hand over the curve of wood. It was fascinating to think that her great-great-great-great grandmother Emily had helped raise this massive log into place.

  With a steaming cup of coffee cradled in her hands, she stood at the cabin door and looked out the window toward the lake. A feeble sun penetrated the clouds, and, while it was hardly sunny, at least for the time being it had stopped raining. Everywhere the damage from the storm was evident. Branches littered the yard, and the tree with the swing had been split in two. Its bulk had fallen across the beach into the water; only a jagged splinter with a few straggly branches was left standing. She felt a moment of sadness for this tree. She had spent many happy hours on the swing as a child, and it was while swimming under its branches that she and Rain had kissed for the first time.

  Just then the phone rang, and Emily’s heart leaped at the thought of hearing Rain's voice again. She hoped he was calling to say he'd be home soon. She longed for his touch and his kisses, longed to bury her face in his chest and hear him whisper I love you. She picked up the phone and whispered a somewhat breathless hello.

  “Hello, baby.” Emily felt her heart lurch in shock. For it wasn't Rain.

  It was Jonathon.

  Chapter 8

  The sound of Jonathon’s voice was like a slap in the face. With the phone pressed against her ear, she reeled against the desk, gasping involuntarily.

  “What? Aren't you glad to hear from me?" Jonathon asked mockingly.

  "No, I'm not," she said angrily. "Why are you calling here?"

  "Well, when you didn't answer your cell, I thought I'd just follow up on a little hunch of mine. And here you are!" he said, clearly pleased with himself. "Want to guess how I knew it was you that was going to answer the phone and not your boyfriend? He is your boyfriend – you're not going to deny that anymore, are you?" he challenged.

  Emily didn't answer. She felt a wave of intense dislike for Jonathon. At least he’d soon be out of her life. Once the farm issue was settled she’d never have to see him again.

  "Okay, so don't answer me. I knew you were there alone, because I'm watching him right now. He's just gone into the insurance office."

  "What?!" Emily exclaimed, his words cutting through the numbness. "You're here?"

  "That's right. Thought I'd hang around yesterday. Shame to come all this way and not get to enjoy the local scenery. And I met my own little country bumpkin last night – a cute little waitress named Cathy. Seems you’ve already met. She’s pretty fond of your boyfriend, too, although she seems to have found me an acceptable alternative."

  “You called me to tell me you slept with Cathy?” Emily asked with disgust. “Are you trying to make me jealous? Because if you are, it won’t work. I don’t care who you sleep with.” She thought back to her meeting with Cathy in the restaurant. Cathy was perhaps a bit naive, but she was a good soul and deserved better than to be used by Jonathon. “Leave Cathy alone, Jonathon. She never did anything to you.”

  “Depends on how you might define that. She was doing plenty to me last night. You country girls are full of surprises.”

  "Stop it, Jonathon. What do you want?"

  "Well, that depends on what you want, my dear. You see, I've been giving some thought to what you said yesterday, and I think I'm willing to let bygones be bygones.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, if you come back to Toronto with me, I’m willing to forget this whole unpleasant business.”

  “I don’t care if you do or you don’t. We’re through. And furthermore, you’re not getting the farm. I’m on my way to the lawyer’s office this morning. By noon today, the farm will be Rain’s.”

  “And I suppose the two of you will live happily ever after?”

  “Something like that,” she answered.

  “Well, I hate to rain on your parade,” said Jonathon, “but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  Emily knew all along that Jonathon wasn’t going to let the farm go without a fight. She had already alerted the lawyer to the possibility of a lawsuit. “Sue if you want, Jonathon. I’m not going to change my mind.”

  Jonathon gave out a low laugh. “I think you will. And it won’t be me who changes your mind.”

  Emily went cold. “What do you mean?”

  “First of all, I want to assure you that I’m not telling you this out of spit
e. I know this will come as a shock. It can’t be easy hearing something like this about the person you love.” Jonathon stressed the word love with contempt.

  “Just tell me.”

  “First things first. Don’t worry about Cathy and me. It was only a fling. You’re the only one for me. I just figured that if you were getting your jollies with the farmhand, I certainly had a right to get mine with the waitress. I just hope you had as much fun as I did.”

  “Jonathon! If you don’t tell me why you called, I’ll hang up!”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. But you’re right, this is a serious matter, and I shouldn’t be tormenting you. It’s just that it’s so hard not to say I told you so. I tell you what. When this is all over, I’ll make it up to you. A nice little trip to the Cayman Islands to soak up some sun. At night you can play waitress, and I’ll be the farmer.”

  “Jon-”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll be serious. Does lover boy have a fax machine there?”

  “Yes.”

  “When we’re finished here, I’m going to fax you something. Something I dug up at the local newspaper office. Just so you don’t think I’m making this up. But then I don’t think you will. I have a sneaky feeling you suspected this all along.”

  An icy fear spread over her. She knew with an absolute certainty that she was standing on the edge of a revelation, something that was going to change everything. Up until now, Jonathon had been playing with her like a cat with a mouse.

  “I’m going to tell you this from the beginning,” he said. “Are you sitting down?”

  Emily obediently sank into a chair. Her legs were feeling shaky anyway.

  “So I met Cathy at the diner. It wasn’t too hard to get her onto the subject of your boyfriend. But although she was pretty forthcoming with the information, I had a feeling she was holding something back. So I invited her to dinner, though it wasn’t as fancy as the dinner you had last night.”

  “How did you know where I was last night?”

  “You should know me better than that, Emily. I may not write history books, but I do know how to do my research. Oh yes, that reminds me, the fire at the farm is the talk of the town this morning. Lucky no was hurt. Accidents seem to happen a lot at that farm.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Anyway, Cathy was pretty impressed with the dinner, and she drank just enough to tell me all she knew. Pretty damning stuff, Emily. You were right to hate him all this time.”

  “For god’s sake, just tell me,” Emily said in a choked voice.

  “Your mother died a couple of weeks before you finished high school. Is that correct?”

  Emily nodded into the receiver. It didn’t matter whether she agreed or disagreed with him. He was going to tell her anyway. She could hang up, but she knew she had to hear him out, no matter how terrible the consequences.

  “Only three weeks after your mother’s death, you were in Toronto.” Jonathon spoke now in his most professional businessman voice. “Once in Toronto, you cut off all ties with the farm, your father, and Ray. I know from what you’ve told me that Ray tried to contact you many times over the years, but you refused to speak with him. So, tell me, did you hear any news, any news at all, pertaining to your mother’s death after you left?”

  Emily didn’t even have to think about her answer. Her isolation from the farm and its inhabitants had been absolute. “No.”

  “Then you don’t know that Ray Storm turned himself into the police about one month after you left.” Emily felt something inside her turn to stone. “Turns out you were right all along,” Jonathon continued. “Ray was responsible for your mother’s death. At the time of the accident, there had been a problem with the tractor. Ray was supposed to have fixed it, and he didn’t. Your mother took out the tractor, and the rest you know.”

  Emily said nothing. Rain was responsible for her mother’s death. He had killed her. How many times had he told her since her return that her mother’s death had been an accident? He had deliberately misled her. And to think she had let him. What a fool she’d been, letting him reassure her right into his bed. Not to mention the farm. In just a few minutes, she was to be on her way to the lawyers to sign the farm over to her mother’s killer!

  “You still there?” Jonathon asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I think you should be happy I found this out in time. It’s one thing to sleep with him. But you were close to handing your whole life over to this guy on a silver platter.”

  She had handed her heart over to him, that was for sure. How happy she had been only a few minutes earlier! Then, she’d been contemplating spending the rest of her life with this man. In a log cabin by a lake. The stuff of romances and happily-ever-after fairytale endings. She should have known this would happen. She was far too intelligent to believe in fairytales.

  “I’m going to fax this now. Ray has just come out of the insurance office. He’s going into the bank now. You’ll want to be out of there before he gets back. So get packed. I’ll call you tonight at home.”

  Emily was back to nodding into the receiver.

  When he said goodbye, Jonathon’s voice was unusually gentle. “Look, I can’t say I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I’m glad to have you back. We’re a great pair. But I know you were sucked in by all that good-looking charm and that it’s a disappointment to find out he was just a sham. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, only barely paying attention to Jonathon’s parting words. She was thinking ahead to what had to be done. “I’ll talk to you tonight.”

  “Goodbye, my dear.”

  The phone rang again almost immediately. Emily reached over to press receive on the fax machine. She waited as the machine printed out a copy of a story from the Village Examiner. She didn’t need the fax. She believed Jonathon. He was right to say she’d known this all along. Maybe not the details, but intuitively she’d known all along that Rain was to blame.

  The article was titled Local Man Admits Role in Woman’s Death. It went on to read Local police have arrested Raymond Storm after he confessed to his role in the death of Mary Alexander in what was earlier thought to be a freak farm accident. Mrs. Alexander died when the tractor she was driving rolled, crushing her beneath it. Mr. Storm has been charged with criminal negligence causing death. He has been released under his own recognizance. Mr. Storm has resided with the late Mary Alexander and her husband Henry Alexander since he was a child and will be staying at the farm until he appears in court later this month. Despite Mr. Storm’s confession, Mr. Alexander remains adamant that the death was an accident.

  Emily threw the paper back onto the fax machine. If he had just fixed the tractor like he was supposed to, her mother could still be alive!

  She put on the clothes Rain had left for her. Old jeans and a sweater. Chances were she would never dress this way again. Once back in Toronto, she would resume wearing all the trappings of a successful businesswoman. She banked the fire and turned off the coffee. Then she went out onto the porch and took one last look at the lake and the fallen tree. Only moments before she had imagined living beside this lake forever. But that could never happen now. How fast things could change! One moment you were happy, the next.... At least she’d had practice at misery. But to have been so happy and then to have it snatched away so suddenly…. To have it all turn out to be a lie!

  She walked out into the yard and, turning, took one last look at the home of her ancestors, feeling the emptiness like a hole where her heart had been. The cabin was warm and solid and comforting, a place where people had loved and been loved. Even herself, if only briefly. A wisp of fragrant smoke curled from the chimney. It was home. Her home. But she had been banished forever.

  At least she could be sure Rain wouldn’t get it. She wondered how she would have felt if she’d found this out about Rain in a year or two. To have lived happily ever after until she found out his little secret. No wonder last night he was so adamant that they not dwell on the past.

&nbs
p; She felt like a fool. Some tough businesswoman she’d turned out to be. Jonathon was right to be so contemptuous of her. She’d come here to sell the farm, and she’d been romanced into giving it away in less than a week!

  Walking up to the house, she prayed that Rain wouldn’t come back before she was gone. She couldn’t bear to see him now. She went to her room, put on one of the suits she had brought with her, and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. The clothes didn’t look right on her anymore; their confidence clashed with the hurt in her eyes. It was like she was playing dress-up with someone else’s clothes.

  She packed her suitcase with the few things she had brought with her from Toronto. Next, she went to her parent’s room and pulled the picture of herself and her mother out of the drawer where she had stashed it only a few days before. There was also a picture of her father and mother cutting the cake at their wedding. Her mother’s smile was as radiant as the June day she’d been married on. She took that one too.

  Finally, she picked up the one her father had taken the night of her graduation. She looked at Rain’s bravely smiling face and her own hostile one. What had he been thinking when that picture had been taken? She threw it back in the drawer. She didn’t care. She didn’t care if he felt guilty or sorry or sad about his role in her mother’s death. He was responsible, and that was all that mattered.

  She took the photos back to her room and placed them in her suitcase. She was just about to close it when she saw the one-eyed teddy bear sitting propped against the pillow. She picked it up and hugged it. “There are monsters even you can’t keep away, Teddy,” she said sadly, tucking him in among her clothes. With one last look around the tiny room with its yellowed wallpaper of faded roses, she went out to her car.

  * * *

  Not surprisingly, given all that had transpired, Emily was late for her appointment with the lawyer. Martin Wright had already heard about the fire – news, especially bad news, travelled fast in the village – and assumed it to be the reason for her lateness.