Skepticism radiated off her. 'How so?'
He shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. 'You already told me that things have been strained between you and Valerie, and learning the reasons why would help me to get a better understanding of your relationship with your cousin.'
She took another sip of her tea, her gaze narrowing on him over the rim. 'And that would make a difference to the case, why?'
He catered to her reluctance gently, because he was coming to learn that this woman needed to be handled with special care when it came to emotional, familial issues. She was strong and diligent on the outside, and fragile and too susceptible on the inside, where she thought no one could see. But she'd given him plenty of glimpses, whether she realized it or not.
'By learning more about Valerie's personality, I can theorize a motivation for her actions.' His explanation sounded logical, but his excuse was a deliberate ploy to get her to open up to him. To trust him with more than just her body.
Surprisingly, she did. 'Valerie's actions are motivated by her need to get attention from whomever she can. And if it's her mother and father, all the better.'
There was no bitterness in her voice, just an odd acceptance he ached to comprehend fully. 'And what motivates Valerie's need for attention?'
'Me.'
'You?' This time,
'Yes, me,' she confirmed more quietly, and stared into the depths of her mug. 'When my parents died, I was twelve years old, and my Aunt Sally and Uncle Ben were my only living relatives. They took me into their home and raised me as if I were their own. At the time, Valerie was only six years old, and she was an only child. My aunt had an emergency hysterectomy after Val was born, and since she couldn't have any more children, Valerie was the center of my aunt and uncle's universe… until I came along.'
Leaning forward, he braced his arms on his thighs and clasped his hands together. 'I assume Valerie didn't take well to you becoming a part of the family?'
'No.' She lifted pale green eyes to his, a sad smile curving her lips. 'She resented any attention I received, though I didn't ask for much. She saw me as a rival, out to steal or take away half of everything that should have been completely hers.' Her index finger idly traced the rim of her cup. 'Everything became a competition with Valerie, but especially when it came to my aunt and uncle's attention. And since I no longer had my own mother and father, I craved my aunt and uncle's affection, which in turn infuriated Valerie.'
'Sounds to me like she was spoiled rotten,' he said roughly.
'She definitely wasn't used to sharing anything; that's for sure.' Setting her mug on the coffee table, she curled her legs beneath her on the cushioned chair. 'I dealt with the situation the best I could. I aimed to please my aunt and uncle. I was a good kid, I helped out around the house, I got good grades, and I stayed out of trouble. Valerie, on the other hand, turned into a wild child and an even more rebellious teenager.'
He scrubbed a hand along his unshaven jaw, knowing good and well that his own daughter never would have gotten so out of hand, that out of control. Her strict but loving mother wouldn't allow it, and as Steffie's father, he wouldn't tolerate such incorrigible behavior, either. Even if he did live in a different state.
But every set of parents raised their children differently, he knew. 'I take it Valerie got the attention she wanted?'
'Yes. My aunt and uncle gave her anything and everything she wanted, in an attempt to keep her happy.' She ducked her head and swiped her fingers through the drying strands of her blond hair. 'They made excuses for Valerie's defiant behavior, and of course, I knew all along that I was to blame for the drastic change in her.'
'You were a child yourself,' he refuted, hating that she'd held herself accountable, and at such a young age, too, when her biggest worry should have been what outfit to wear to school that day. 'Any change in Valerie wasn't your fault.'
He could tell that she disagreed but apparently decided it wasn't an issue worth arguing with him. 'The only way I could make up for Valerie being so rebellious was by being a good kid. I wanted so badly for my aunt and uncle to be proud of me. I never wanted them to regret that they took me into their home and raised me. I always wanted them to know how grateful I was for the sacrifice they made for me, and how much I appreciated their love and support when I could have ended up in a cold foster home.' A shudder shook her.
Yes, she'd been extremely lucky to end up with caring relatives, despite her own sense of misplaced guilt with Valerie. But there was still another point she'd brought up that wasn't clear in his mind. 'Liz, you said you didn't want to disappoint your aunt and uncle again. What did you mean by that?'
'Like I said, I did everything I could to make them proud of me. I went to college, got my business degree, and when I made the decision to open up The Daily Grind, they believed in my ability to make the cafe a success and even gave me a loan to help start up the business.' She absently twisted the gold band on her ring finger, the one that made her look taken by another man. 'Everything was going so well, until I met Travis.'
Ahh, he knew the story of her deceased husband, but there was obviously more to that tale than she'd originally told him. He waited patiently for her to continue, knowing he'd sit there for hours, days, weeks, to learn more about her. To know her inside and out. Dangerous stuff, that, but at the moment, he was beyond caring about anything else but her-insecurities, painful secrets, and all.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if remembering; then her lashes lifted once again. Her gaze was distant, as though she were caught somewhere in the past. 'I told you that my aunt and uncle were less than thrilled about my marrying Travis. That was the first time I'd really defied them. And after Travis died and I ended up on the verge of bankruptcy because of his debts, that was a very we-told-you-so kind of moment for me, though my aunt and uncle were gracious enough not to say anything to make me feel any worse than I already did.'
She glanced back at him and managed a shaky half smile, but the gesture was forced over the emotional anguish flickering in her eyes. 'I knew they were disappointed in me, and it hurt to think that I'd lost a bit of their respect for the rash and reckless decision I'd made. They're the only family I have left, and after everything they'd done for me, I'd let them down.'
Her voice cracked, and she swallowed before speaking again. 'So, here I am, just making a comeback after my disastrous marriage, and finally getting my business back to the point that it's solvent again, and I can't even handle a simple request to keep an eye on Valerie for them.'
He refrained from grabbing her shoulders and shaking some sense into her. 'Valerie is old enough to make her own decisions and suffer the consequences,' he said one last time, but knew that was something Liz had to come to learn and accept on her own. Right now she was thinking with old childhood emotions clouding her judgment. Nothing he could say or do would make her realize the truth until she believed it for herself, as the adult she'd become. 'Valerie is just damn lucky to have someone who cares so much about her, the way you do.'
'I just want to find her and make sure she's safe.' Liz worried at her bottom lip, the concern she harbored for her cousin weighing her down. 'And hopefully, my aunt and uncle will never have to know about any of this.'
Yes, this incident would pass, he agreed, but there would be more of her cousin's antics that Liz would take upon herself to bear. She'd go on feeling responsible and living her life to please her aunt and uncle instead of herself-because she believed that was what she needed to do to gain back their trust and respect. If she'd ever lost it. So far, Liz's description hadn't given him that impression.
Everyone made wrong or misguided decisions, along with mistakes they regretted. He had his own burdens to live with, as well-things he wished he could have done differently, like paying more attention to his marriage before it had started to deteriorate. But he'd learned that he couldn't allow those pitfalls to rule his life, that he had to deal with them and move on. But it appeared that Liz was still living in the past, for fear of failing the people she cared for the most.
At the moment, curled up in the chair all by herself, she seemed lost and all alone, even though he was sitting on the couch merely a few feet away. She was incredibly giving and selfless, to the very heart and soul of who she was. A woman who wanted nothing more than for everything around her to be good and right, yet all she could see in herself were imperfections and flaws.
Aching to bridge the distance between them, and wanting to offer her a semblance of comfort, he held his hand out to her. 'Come here,' he said softly.
She didn't hesitate to put her fingers into his palm, and the trusting gesture gave him an odd jolt of pleasure
