The Awakening

by Jude Deveraux

  “Anytime,” he said pleasantly. “I’ll show you, tell you, whatever you want.”

  “Very, ah, kind of you.” She smiled weakly and looked at the dirty platters on the ground. All she had to do was say she wanted a different kind of lunch and he’d take her away in that little yellow car of his and then his hands would—

  “You ready to go back?” Hank said.

  “Yes,” she answered, swallowing and starting to rise.

  Hank put his hand on her arm. “You want to tell me what happened between you and Taylor the day you lost the bet? What happened to cause him to be repulsed by you and to punish you with calculus?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” she answered.

  “Maybe I could help you prevent its happening again, but I can do nothing if you don’t tell me what went wrong.”

  She didn’t like to remember that afternoon. “I kissed him. He was standing in front of me and I stood on tiptoe and kissed him.”

  “Just like that.”

  She didn’t know what he meant. “What other way is there? We had that awful wager, and I thought I was doing it for the ranch, because you said you’d leave if I could make Taylor show passion, so I kissed him. How else was I to do it? If I kiss you, you—” She stopped. “You understand what I mean.”

  “I understand perfectly. You acted like a schoolgirl and he no doubt treated you like one.”

  “Schoolgirls don’t kiss their teachers. Or perhaps your female students do.”

  “Never, but if one did, I’d treat her just as Taylor did you.”

  “Oh,” she said, feeling that all the pain of the last few days really was her fault. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “Come on, let’s go back. We can spare a few minutes and I’ll show you how to seduce a man. The proper way to do it.”

  She hesitated.

  “I thought you wanted me to teach you about being a modern woman.”

  “I had motion pictures in mind or maybe that you’d teach me to tango.”

  “Reva knows about men. I’ll bet if Reva kissed Taylor he wouldn’t punish her with calculus.”

  Amanda felt her ring finger with her right hand, meaning to feel her engagement ring, but she found she’d left it at home again. Reva had helped Taylor choose her ring. “Let’s go, Dr. Montgomery,” she said. “I’m not good at many things but I am an apt pupil.”

  He watched her pick up the tray of dirty dishes and walk toward the back of the restaurant. So far he hadn’t found much of anything that she wasn’t good at. Grinning, he followed her. He had a lesson to teach.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They walked across the dusty, hot street of Kingman in silence. Amanda found she couldn’t speak in anticipation of what was to come. It was just a lesson, she told herself, a lesson she could transfer to Taylor. After all, it was Taylor she was interested in, wasn’t it? Taylor was the man she’d loved for years. Taylor was the man she was going to marry. She needed to learn how to change herself in his eyes from a child to a woman. And Dr. Montgomery was kind enough to teach her.

  “In here,” he said, opening the door to the broom closet.

  “Here?” she asked.

  “Only place private. Come on, we’ve been away too long as it is.”

  She had the distinct impression he wanted to get this duty over with. The problems of the people upstairs were of course much more important than hers. She stepped inside the closet and he locked the door behind her.

  Hank turned a big bucket upside down and sat on it. “First of all, you’re at a disadvantage if he’s standing, because he’s taller than you. Wait until he’s sitting down, then you have the upper hand. Now, pull the string and kill that light and come sit on my lap.”

  “But—” she began.

  “Pretend I’m Taylor. You can do that better in the dark. Amanda, if you want a schedule after you’re married, then don’t learn what I have to teach you. It’s up to you.”

  She pulled the string on the light and the room was absolutely dark, but Dr. Montgomery’s hands found her and guided her to sit on his lap.

  “Amanda! What are you doing? You should be studying your Latin.”

  “Yes, I—Oh, I see, you’re Taylor.”

  “Pretending to be,” Hank corrected. “Amanda, if I were me, I’d put my arms around you like this,” he said, his arms caressing her back, “and my hands would do this.” He ran his hands down her arms, his thumbs touching the sides of her breasts. “And I’d kiss you like this.” He kissed her softly, lingeringly, in such a way that made her remember last night. Her arms went around him, her tongue entwined with his. She moaned when his hand cupped her breast. Sitting, he’d said. People could make love while sitting down. She turned more fully toward him.

  He pushed her away. “But I’m not me. I’m Taylor.” Hank was swallowing and he was painfully uncomfortable. She was going to drive him mad. “Taylor would sit here like this.” He put his hands beside his thighs, not touching her. There was a little light coming in around the door and he could see enough of her to again realize how beautiful she was. There seemed to be less sadness in her eyes. “Now what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. With you I don’t have to do anything. You always seem to be ready.” She could feel how ready he was now, against her left thigh. Her heart was still pounding, but he seemed to be so cool and unaffected by their kissing—well, maybe not all of him was unaffected. “I guess I would kiss him,” she said, leaning toward his lips, but he turned his head away.

  “No, start more subtly. Here, kiss my neck a little and maybe use this hand to unbutton a few buttons and this one you can put in my hair.”

  “Oh,” she said, “I see.” This was the easiest assignment she’d ever had. His hair was soft and clean and seemed to twine around her fingers. The buttons of his shirt opened easily, and she slid her hand inside to touch his bare flesh. “Like this?”

  “Exactly,” he whispered.

  She put her lips to his neck. Hot, smooth skin with just the faintest trace of whiskers. She touched her tongue to his whiskers. His skin tasted good.

  “Ear,” Hank said, and could hardly hear himself above his heart’s pounding.

  Amanda thought she was maybe getting the hang of this. She put his earlobe in her teeth and pulled it gently. He moved his hands from his thighs to hers. She ran her tongue around the rim of his ear, her breath warm against it. “Am I doing all right?” she whispered.

  “Fine so far,” he managed to say.

  She began to get creative as she kissed his temple then his eyes and down his face to his cheeks. She had unbuttoned most of his shirt now, and she wanted to feel her bare breasts against his hot, dark skin, feel the hair of his chest against her smooth skin.

  “This ear?” she whispered, and used her tongue to caress his left ear. She had to stretch across him a bit and her breasts felt so good where they touched him. She wanted to open her dress and feel his mouth on her.

  She kissed his lips. As if she were dying, she kissed him, plunging her tongue into his mouth, ravishing him, attacking him, sucking at his lips, biting his lips; then her mouth and teeth bit at his jawline, down his neck. Her hands began tearing at his clothes.

  Hank quit playing a game. He turned her to straddle him, treating her as if she weighed nothing, as he shoved her dress up over her hips. Her tap pants tore at the crotch so that she was bare against him, the cloth of his trousers against her soft inner thighs and her engorged womanhood.

  His left hand clamped down on the back of her head, turning her so he could invade the deepest recesses of her mouth while his right hand unbuttoned his trousers, his knuckles caressing her. She rubbed against the skin of his hand.

  Someone started trying the doorknob.

  “I think it’s locked,” Reva said from outside. “You have the key or does Hank?”

  “I think there are some keys upstairs,” Joe said. “I’ll go look.”

  “I’ll go with yo
u,” Reva said, then to someone else she said, “You stay here. You can clean up your own kid’s vomit.”

  Inside the closet, Amanda and Hank became aware of who they were and where they were.

  “We better go,” Amanda said. “I don’t think they would understand.”

  Nor do I, Hank thought as he mechanically began to refasten his trousers.

  Amanda at last found the string to the light and pulled it on, and for a brief moment their eyes met, but she didn’t dare look at him for too long. It seemed that all he had to do was pull her string and she lit up like an electric light bulb.

  Hank unlocked the door and looked out. Reva and Joe were still upstairs but standing quietly was an Italian woman holding the hand of a green-faced little girl. “Hello,” Hank said. “We, ah…”

  Amanda began to talk to the woman, making up a long excuse as to what they were doing in the closet as they passed her to go upstairs.

  Hank paused on the stair landing. “What language was that?” he asked.

  “Italian. Isn’t she Italian?”

  “I think she is, but I’m not sure what your language was.”

  “Oh. Greek, perhaps,” Amanda said helplessly. “Maybe Russian. Maybe Latin.”

  He looked at her and it was all he could do to not touch her. He could feel her tongue in his ear. “Go fix your hair,” he said, “then come back to work. We have another train arriving at two. Your father advertised for workers in three states. The more people he gets, the greater the competition for the jobs. He can fire hundreds and still have enough workers to pick the crops. Go on now. One look at you and everyone will know.”

  Amanda hurried up the stairs to the restroom. The mirror showed her flushed face, her hair about her shoulders and puffy lips from having kissed so much. She did the best she could to repair the damage. At least no one would be able to see her torn underwear. For a moment she leaned back against the door. It seemed that all he had to do was touch her and she came apart. She did outrageous, shameless things.

  Taylor, she tried to remind herself. She was in love with Taylor and she wanted him to think of her as a woman. That was her goal.

  She left the restroom and went back to the hot office which was filled with people who were trying to understand what a union was. Amanda was to explain to them that they would not lose their jobs if they asked for a drink of water.

  She glanced at Dr. Montgomery before she took her seat. The back of his hair was mussed and she wanted to smooth it down, but as she watched, Reva’s hand ran over his hair and straightened it. As Reva walked past Amanda she whispered, “Why do you have to have two men? Give me one of them, will you?”

  Guiltily, Amanda gave her attention to the Hindu family before her. She needed to find a common language so she could talk to them. She didn’t look at Hank again.

  But Hank couldn’t keep his eyes off Amanda. There were times when he couldn’t remember what a union was. He thought of how he’d believed her to be a prig, an anxious, nervous, judgmental little prude. But then he’d touched her.

  Reva annoyingly kept reminding him of his work and Hank had to stop daydreaming.

  “Is anything going on around here?” Hank asked. “Something I could take a girl to?”

  Reva gave him her most becoming smile. “There’s a fair outside of Terrill City, and I’ve been dying to go,” she said as a hint.

  “A fair. Great.” Hank wrote a note to Amanda, slipped it in between some other papers and had Joe put it on her desk.

  Amanda was talking to a Spanish family when she saw the note and, after days of translating everything she read, she read Hank’s note aloud in Spanish.

  The pretty young mother smiled while the handsome father said he’d be glad to go to a motion picture with her tonight and a carnival tomorrow night. Amanda blushed to the roots of her hair.

  At 4:30 Hank stopped by her desk. “Well?” he asked.

  “I’m engaged to someone else. I can’t date you.”

  “I thought I might teach you how to act on a date so you won’t make a fool of yourself with Taylor by lecturing him all evening.”

  “Oh,” she said. She wanted to go with him, wanted to see a motion picture, wanted to sit next to him. And she was very aware that in another few days he’d be gone. “Yes, I’d like to go.”

  “And the carnival tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” was all she could answer.

  Reva stood not far away, watching and listening. It really wasn’t fair that Amanda should have so much while she had so little. Then she smiled. She wondered what Amanda’s fiancé would have to say if he knew where Amanda was spending her evenings.

  For the rest of the day Amanda felt as if something wonderful were about to happen. A few times she reminded herself of Taylor, but she told herself she was doing this for him.

  At six, Hank came to her desk. “Ready?” he asked. “There’s a show starting at 6:30.”

  Amanda picked up her handbag and left with him.

  Reva stood staring at the door.

  “Jealous?” Joe asked, laughing at her.

  “Yeah, maybe I am,” Reva said. “The rich get everything.”

  “You think the Doc likes Amanda because she’s rich? Then you haven’t seen him look at her when she walks across the room. He’s more interested in what she has than what her daddy has.”

  “Who asked you?” Reva snapped. “I know somebody who will be very interested in those two.” She left the union headquarters and started walking toward the Caulden Ranch.

  Hank walked beside Amanda toward the Opera House, where the latest motion picture was being shown. He didn’t touch her—but he wanted to. “If we were an engaged couple, you’d take my arm now,” he said, holding out his arm for her.

  Amanda smiled up at him. “Anything else?”

  “There’s always the possibility that you might get frightened by the picture. I hear that the heroine’s life is in danger from beginning to end.”

  “And what do I do if I’m afraid?”

  “Hold on to me,” he answered and lifted her fingertips to his lips. “I’ll protect you.”

  She stared at his lips for a moment then recovered herself. “Please remember, Dr. Montgomery, that you’re my teacher and not my fiancé.”

  “I never forget it for a second.” He led her into the darkened hall and they took a seat in the middle close to the front.

  Amanda wasn’t sure what she had expected in a motion picture, but she’d never dreamed how gripping one could be. The dangers that threatened the pretty young actress were so real. The villain was so awful, always plotting to get the young woman, always sneaking and skulking, looking for opportunities to steal her away.

  Hank watched Amanda, saw the way her emotions played across her face as a child’s would. She grabbed his hand once when the villain made a play for the heroine, so he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. He was rewarded by Amanda burying her face in his shoulder when the heroine nearly got run over by a train. He had never enjoyed a film so much in his life.

  When it was over and the lights came on, he was reluctant to leave, reluctant to stop touching her. From the way she continued clutching his arm, he thought she felt the same way.

  “What would an engaged couple do now?” she asked at last, holding the hand of the arm he had around her. He had only asked her to the motion picture. Would he take her home now? Would she go home and find that Taylor had scheduled a poetry reading for this evening? How could she read poetry after seeing a woman nearly severed by a train?

  “I’d probably take you to a quiet, intimate dinner somewhere, someplace with candles and violins, then maybe we’d go dancing.”

  He was just telling her, not asking her to go with him, she thought. “I don’t guess I could do that. I don’t know how to dance.”

  “You could be taught. You do seem to have a capacity for learning.”

  “I guess it depends on the teacher.” His lips were very close to hers a
nd she hoped he was about to kiss her.

  “Hey!” a man yelled from the back of the hall. “You two gonna pay for the second show?”

  Hank and Amanda untangled themselves from each other and started out of the hall. Once outside, Amanda was reluctant to speak. Now she should ask him to take her home to Taylor.

  “You know,” Hank said, “you really should learn how to dance. What if you and Taylor are asked to the White House and the President asks you to dance? What will you say? That you don’t know how?”

  Amanda’s spirits began to lift. “I suppose you’re right. But I can’t learn to dance wearing this.” She looked down at her severe navy-blue suit. “My dancing dress was torn and it hasn’t been repaired.”

  He took her arm. “We can fix that. There are more dresses where that one came from.”

  “I believe you asked to see me,” Taylor Driscoll said, looking at Reva as she stood in the fading sunlight of the Caulden parlor. He told himself she was garishly made-up and her dress was dreadfully gaudy, but he still felt attracted to her. He’d like to see her with her face washed and wearing something simple and expensive, perhaps in a light blue. “How can I help you?”

  Reva could feel this man’s desire for her. He was a stuffed shirt, of course, but she was sure she could unbend him. She would very much like to kiss him, like to see him lean down to put his lips on hers. She turned away from him.

  “I feel a bit like the school tattle,” she said. “I came here to tell you about Amanda, but now I’m not so sure I should. Perhaps I should leave.”

  He didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t like to admit it even to himself, but he’d been lonely in the last few weeks. Amanda was always gone, he never saw J. Harker, and of course Mrs. Caulden didn’t speak to him even when they happened to meet. “Wait,” he said to Reva. “Won’t you stay and have some tea, or some sherry, perhaps?”