Free The Secret Wife by Susan Mallery Page A

envelope on the floor. He bent and retrieved it, then smoothed it flat. The feel of heavy paper told him it contained a greeting card.
    A name and address were carefully written in Tiffany’s handwriting. Stamped across that was the ink image of a hand with the index finger pointing to the left.
    Moved and left no forwarding address.
    Then he understood. He moved to the bed and pulled Tiffany into his arms. Her body shook with each sob. She clung to him as if she were in danger of falling and he was the only stable place in her world. He knew about that, too.
    “It’s all right,” he said. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re not alone. I’m right here.”
    * * *
    Elissa checked the pot of coffee she’d made two hours before. It was at exactly the same level—full, less one cup. Should she toss it out and make fresh? Would Cole even bother coming to the kitchen when he had finished talking with Tiffany? Maybe he had gone straight to bed and she was waiting up for nothing.
    Maybe, but a voice in her head said he would be coming here for coffee. She wanted to be waiting for him. Not only to find out what was wrong with Tiffany, but to once again try to make a connection with the man she’d married. They might have lived in the same location for nearly three weeks, but he was as much a stranger as he had been the day she arrived.
    Footsteps in the hallway sent her hurrying to the door. Cole pushed it open before she could and stepped inside. She waited apprehensively, not sure what he would think when he saw her. But when his dark eyes met hers she saw nothing but exhaustion dilating his pupils. For once there was no anger, no suspicion.
    “I’ve made coffee,” she said, walking to the pot. “Let me pour you a cup.”
    “Thanks.”
    He pulled out a chair from the large table in the center and sat down. Elissa set the black coffee in front of him and took the seat on his right.
    The large kitchen had been cleaned for the night. There were huge empty pots on the counter. The ancient stove gleamed with obvious care. The tile sparkled and the food in the pantry beyond had been neatly arranged by size and type. There might not be a lot of extra money at the Grace Orphanage, but there was plenty of caring. Obviously Cole set the example for that; if Elissa had had any doubts, tonight had eased them.
    “How’s Tiffany?” she asked.
    Cole stared into his coffee mug. “Sleeping. It took nearly an hour for her to calm down. I guess I’m going to have to schedule her some time with the child psychologist.”
    “Is there anything I can do to help?”
    He glanced at her, his expression hard. “Are you going to ask what’s wrong?”
    “No. If you want to tell me, I’m happy to listen, but if it’s confidential, I don’t need to know. Either way, I’d still like to help.”
    “The last of the good guys.” There was a cynical edge to his voice.
    So much for them connecting, she thought wearily. She’d been a fool to try. “Who did you fight with before I arrived?” Elissa asked as she pushed to her feet. “You win, Cole. I’ll leave you alone. Good night.”
    She got all the way to the door before he called her back. “Elissa. Wait.”
    She paused, but didn’t turn around. Her stomach twisted painfully and she was way too close to tears. Why did he still have that kind of power over her? She hated it. Why couldn’t she have come to the orphanage, met Cole and found out the sparks had long since extinguished themselves? But no. That would make life too easy.
    “Tiffany’s mother is a drug addict.”
    “I know.”
    “For the past year or so, her mother has been in a rehab program. She’s had a few relapses, but she’s always gone back to the program. She’s been living in a halfway house on the premises of the rehab facility. Even though she knows better, Tiffany was starting to hope that her mom might kick the drugs. When she got home from the play, Tiffany found that the birthday card she’d