“I don’t know.” Rooke absently ran her finger around the rim of Adrian’s empty teacup. “Maybe he was trying to mend the rift.”

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“The rift?”

“It’s a long story.”

Adrian smiled into Rooke’s eyes. “I’d like to hear it if you want to tell me.”

Rooke searched Adrian’s face for a long time. “Why?”

“Because I want to know about you,” Adrian said immediately.

“And before you ask me why, it’s because I think you’re interesting and remarkably talented and I’m from this place too. So we have a little bit of history in common.” She didn’t add you’re beautiful and sensual and so tender you break my heart.

“Okay.” Rooke pushed back in the chair and stretched her legs out, hooking her thumbs into her front pockets as she stared at the tops of her boots. “About fifty years ago my grandfather was in love with Ida Hancock, and she apparently let him believe it was mutual. They were high school sweethearts, I guess you would call it, but in secret.

No one knew except some of Ida’s best friends.”

“Like my grandmother and Bea Meriwether,” Adrian said softly.

“And a couple of other daughters of the prominent families.”

“How do you know all this?”

Rooke smiled wryly. “When people think you’re…handicapped, they talk in front of you because they don’t think you’ll understand.

Some of it I got in school, before my grandfather pulled me out. Some I—”

“Wait,” Adrian said, having trouble keeping up. “Your grandfather took you out of school?”

“Yes. When I was seven. They told him I was mentally challenged and couldn’t be in the same class as the other kids.”

Adrian murmured, “Oh my God. How could they not know what was wrong?”

Rooke shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t look too hard. Anyhow, I was homeschooled after that. When I was older, sometimes I’d hear customers talking about my grandfather or me. I pieced most of it together on my own. Dom filled in some blanks.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted. I’m sorry…never mind. Go ahead about your grandfather and Ida.” Adrian knew Rooke wouldn’t want her sympathy, but inside she was weeping for the child Rooke had been, and outraged for the adult.

“When it came time for my grandmother to have her coming-out

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ball and take her place in society, she wasn’t interested in a relationship with the son of the local cemetery caretaker any longer.”

“And they both married other people?” Adrian guessed.

“Yes.”

Adrian frowned. “But then…” Her eyes widened. “Their children are your parents?”

“My mother was Ida Hancock’s daughter. She and my father fell in love their last year in high school and she got pregnant. My grandmother disowned her.”

“Was your mother’s name Grace?” Adrian asked quietly.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I saw her name in the newspaper.”

Rooke looked away, her expression pained. “The accident.”

“Yes.”

“She was on her way back from my grandmother’s. One version I heard is that she brought me there to try to change my grandmother’s mind about the estrangement. I don’t think anyone really knows why she was there that day.” Rooke turned wounded eyes to Adrian. “One thing is clear, though. My grandmother sent her away. Into the storm.”

Adrian couldn’t bear her sadness. She leaned across the table and stroked Rooke’s cheek. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Rooke covered Adrian’s hand and held it to her face for an instant, then let go. “Do you believe in fate?”

“I think so,” Adrian said, remembering that Melinda had asked the same question. “I know we don’t always understand the reasons why things happen in the moment. I believe there are patterns and forces in the universe we can’t fully comprehend. Maybe that’s fate. Or destiny.

Why?”

“I wonder sometimes if my mother and father weren’t destined to live the life that Pops and Ida should have had.” Rooke grimaced. “But if they were, fate sure wasn’t on their side.”

“Maybe the story isn’t finished yet.”

“My grandfather gave my statue to my grandmother, and she gave it away. Just like she sent my mother away. Now Melinda wants it. Do you think that’s part of the story?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian said quietly. “What do you think?”

“The answers have always been in the stone. And maybe they still are.”

• 142 •

SecretS in the Stone

ChapTER SiXTEEn

Adrian stared at the paragraph that had been staring back at her from her screen for the past forty minutes. Now she knew something was wrong. Wherever she was in the world, whatever was happening in her life, no matter how chaotic or dangerous or painful, she’d always been able to work. She’d chosen her career and the life that came with it over her parents’ expectations and favor. The price she paid for turning her back on her family’s blueprint for success had been the loneliness of always being the outsider, and the knowledge that she disappointed those she loved. She had friends, but no lovers. Her work was her escape and her solace.

When Rooke left, she’d booted up her computer, planning to spend the rest of the day outlining the new project, but within minutes her mind had drifted to the story of Rooke’s grandparents’ ill-fated love affair and the tragedy that played out in the lives of their children. If she hadn’t come from a family that put such great stock in social status and maintaining the family’s image, she would have found it impossible to believe that Ida Hancock had cast out her daughter for falling in love with a poor man. She doubted it was all about money, though. Ida’s anger probably had a lot to do with the fact that her daughter chose a Tyler, when she herself had not been willing to. And Rooke had been the ultimate victim of this twist of fate. Adrian was certain that if Ida Hancock had publicly recognized Rooke as her granddaughter, Rooke never would have been treated so poorly in school and by members of the community. Ida would not have allowed it. But Rooke was not a Hancock. She was every inch a Tyler, having inherited the talent that had been her family’s legacy for generations. Rooke’s skill, her passion,

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was to unleash the hidden grandeur in the stone. Adrian wondered if Ida Hancock had any idea how extraordinary her granddaughter was or how much she had missed out on by not acknowledging her. She couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for Ida’s loss, though. Ida Hancock did not deserve Rooke.

Rooke. She wondered what Rooke would decide about Melinda. As soon as she pictured the seductive way Melinda had leaned into Rooke as they talked in the hotel, touching her constantly, her concentration went all to hell. She knew firsthand how compelling Melinda’s attentions could be, and she knew from her own career achievements the seditious allure of celebrity. Although she was far from famous, she’d won a few awards and been interviewed for several national magazines, and even appeared on a network news show once. For a very short while, she’d enjoyed the media attention. And if she was honest with herself, she’d enjoyed the interest from women who were probably more attracted to her star status, such as it’d been, than anything else. Adrian didn’t need to use any imagination to know that Rooke—amazingly talented, young, gorgeous, sexy Rooke—was going to have women falling at her feet if Melinda put the spotlight on her.

Grumpily, Adrian pushed back from the table. She’d never thought of herself as the jealous type, but okay, maybe she was a little more possessive than she’d thought. Only she was getting way ahead of herself, and a lot ahead of Rooke, who hadn’t exactly made a move on her. She never behaved this way around women. She didn’t pine, she didn’t even lust. She enjoyed a few days, a few weeks. The last time she’d had a relationship last more than three months had been years before. Casual and uncomplicated was her motto. Now in the course of a few crazy intense days she’d met two women who had her acting in ways she didn’t even recognize. Melinda aroused her, completely against her will, and Rooke—Rooke turned her emotions inside out when she wasn’t turning her on with the slightest, most innocent touch.

Hell, she hadn’t even wanted Rooke to leave that afternoon, and had barely stopped herself from making up some excuse to get Rooke to stay a little longer. And then as soon as Rooke had left, she’d missed her. Adrian rubbed her temples. She couldn’t trust anything she was feeling. What she needed was a reality adjustment or a mental cold shower.

Abandoning any hopes of working, she snatched up the phone and

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hoisted herself up onto the counter. She punched a familiar number and listened to it ring, anticipating the answering machine. Her good friend and frequent collaborator Jude Castle was on assignment more than she was home, traveling to wherever critical events were unfolding in the world. They’d met several years before when they’d shared a rickety prop plane flying into the bush in Central Africa. Adrian had been doing a series on the AIDS crisis in third-world countries and Jude had been on her way to film a guerrilla leader in his jungle camp. They’d hit it off immediately. In addition to being women and lesbians in a male-dominated world, they shared the same wild sense of adventure and were similarly driven by the elusive hunt for the next story. Since then, they’d collaborated on several projects, most recently reporting from the front lines in Iraq. Considering they’d both returned to the States just before Christmas, she wouldn’t be surprised if Jude had left again.

“Hello?”

Adrian was so startled it took her a second to respond. “Jude? Hey, it’s Adrian.”