Hidden Talents

it snows, stop in Bullington. We'll drive down the mountain and get you. I've got chains.”
    “Damn it, Serenity, shut up.” Caleb had the front door open now.
    “We'll be expecting you, Mr. Ventress,” Serenity yelled. “Six o'clock. Come early, if you like. You can stay the night. I've got room.”
    Caleb yanked her out onto the porch.
    “Christ.” He slammed the front door shut and started down the steps to the Jaguar. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”
    “Trying to change the past.”
    “Forget it. Some people don't want the past changed.”

16

    T HE SOFT STRAINS OF A WALTZ INVADED S ERENITY'S troubled dreams. The music seemed closer than it ever had before.
    She cuddled the infants in her arms and soothed them gently while she waited for the door of the sunlit white room to open .
    Serenity awoke with a start to find herself alone in the bed. She raised herself on one elbow. A glance at the clock on the table told her it was three in the morning. She frowned. The distant waltz continued to play even though the dream had vanished.
    Serenity pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. The beaded curtain shuddered, creating a symphony of crickets and bells. She slid her feet into her slippers and reached for her robe. The tinny notes of the waltz grew louder as she went down the short hall to the living room. The cottage was chilly. There was very little heat from the banked fires of the wood stove.
    The soft glow of a lamp greeted her as she came to a halt in the arched entrance to the main room. Caleb was seated on the sofa, dressed only in a pair of jeans. His hair was tousled from an obviously restless sleep. His feet were bare, in spite of the cold.
    He sat leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Crystal Brooke's jewelry box was open on the coffee table in front of him. He was absorbed by the jerky movements of the tiny dancers.
    “I didn't mean to wake you,” Caleb said without taking his eyes off the jewelry box.
    “It's all right. I wasn't sleeping very well, anyway.” Serenity padded softly into the room and sat down beside him on the sofa.
    “That's my fault, too. I shouldn't have subjected you to that scene at my grandfather's house.”
    “I was the one who insisted on accompanying you.”
    Caleb stared at the tiny dancers. “He won't come for dinner on Thursday, you know.”
    “If he doesn't, I'll invite him again for Sunday.”
    “You're wasting your time.”
    “Maybe. Maybe not.” Serenity tucked her hands into the sleeves of her robe and leaned forward to study the jewelry box. The newspaper clippings tucked inside the main compartment were still neatly folded. “What are you thinking about?”
    “Something Franklin said today.”
    “He said a lot of things today. He certainly seems to think he has a duty to keep the past fresh and alive. What a sad, bitter man.”
    “Sad and bitter?”
    “That's the way he strikes me,” Serenity said. “There was a strange look in his eyes today when he talked about your father and about Patricia.”
    “I think Franklin was always envious of my father. He's certainly told me often enough what a beautiful woman Patricia Clarewood was. A perfect lady, as Aunt Phyllis likes to remind me. She always referred to her as the woman who should have been my mother.”
    “A woman who may have been having an affair behind your father's back,” Serenity mused.
    “Roland and Franklin are right. Even if Patricia was involved with another man, that's no excuse for my father's actions. He should have divorced Patricia before he got Crystal Brooke pregnant.”
    “Well, as I said earlier today, that's in the past. Let it stay there, Caleb.”
    “I've tried.” Caleb stared down at the tiny waltzing figures as the music came to a halt. “But for some reason the past has come back to haunt me.”
    “Because of me.” Serenity sighed heavily. “If it hadn't been for me, that terrible scene between you and your family today would never have taken place.”
    “That's not true.” Caleb turned his head to look at her. His eyes were brilliant. “Don't ever say that again. I've been living with ghosts since the day Roland took me to Ventress Valley. I'd grown so accustomed to living with them that I was starting to become one myself.”
    Serenity stared at him. “Oh, Caleb . What do you mean?”
    “Forget it.” Caleb picked up the jewelry case and rewound the music box. “It doesn't matter any longer.”
    “But it does