Waiting For Eden (Eden Series)

by Leigh, Jessica

  He grinned and patted his stomach. “I guess I show it too.”

  Alex looked at the broad flat expanse of abdomen dubiously. “You have a belly? I highly doubt it, farm boy.”

  He sighed and rubbed it a little harder. “It’s a pot belly. Can’t resist that fine cookin’.”

  “Pot belly my ass,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. On a whim, Alex reached across and lifted the edge of his tee-shirt with a bravado she didn’t feel. But goodness, his stomach was rock hard, and the series of washboard muscles were each clearly even in the dim forest light. Her fingers itched to run across them. “Liar.”

  Jamie grabbed her wrist swiftly, with a feral grin of triumph. “Okay, I was hoping you would do that, now I get to see yours. Fair is fair.”

  “No way! Mine stays covered unless I’m on the beach after a week of severe dieting.”

  “You’re too skinny. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you?”

  “Well, maybe a few pounds. I’ve been too absorbed to eat much lately.”

  “Here, Mom’s cooking will help that. Don’t lose any more,” Jamie pronounced firmly. He handed her a meaty drumstick.

  “How can you tell I lost weight anyway?” she demanded.

  “I have a good memory. You weren’t wearing much at the swimming hole, if I recall.”

  He had been spying on her that day. The little shit! “You’re a peeping tom, Jamie Sheldon,” she sputtered, flushing red with the memory. She had only been wearing her undies. “Well, I hope you got yourself a good, satisfying look.”

  He grinned, and his blue eyes touched hers daringly. “Oh, it was a good one. But not exactly satisfying...”

  He reached out and touched a lock of hair that had tumbled across her cheek, and then tucked it behind her ear. His knuckles scraped the soft lobe, sending a tremor through her. The mere touch of his hand brought a rush of warm between her legs, and her lips parted with the power of the impact of it.

  “I like your curves.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled inanely. Alex dropped her eyes and tore into the piece of chicken self-consciously. Eventually, James did too.

  The moment had passed and Alexandra heaved a sigh of relief. She had to be an idiot not to realize what was happening here. It was attraction, pure, direct, and elemental. And very dangerous to her mental health.

  She had only recently lost the most important man in her life, even though he had not been faithful. But she had. And the fact that she felt lust for another did not speak well of her. The guilt was thickening with her involvement and it had to stop now.

  ~~~~~~~~

  As they devoured their lunches in mutual silence, Jamie gave himself one hell of a mental ass-whooping. Alex had recently lost a mate. He wasn’t even sure what kind of relationship they had had as husband and wife, although judging from her bitterness toward men, he doubted it was an ideal one.

  Yet it wasn’t helping matters to push her any by touching her joking with her about... physical things. After all, he had her smiling for the first time ever, and he thought that they might actually be having a good time together. Remembering her tears and her barbed words of the previous week, he hoped that this outing was helping to ease her pain.

  Stretching her legs out in front of her, Alex now rested her weight on her palms and sighed contentedly. Jamie watched her thoughtfully, wondering if he should even broach the subject of her tragedy. She seemed so content at the moment, but her husband’s death suddenly loomed in front of him like a huge hurdle that had to be addressed and acknowledged.

  He cleared his throat determinedly. He needed to say something. “Alex, I heard about your husband. Only yesterday, actually. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been flirting with you just now.”

  Alex froze at the words, and Jamie read a strange fear and uncertainty in her widened eyes, before they coldly clouded over altogether. He swore silently. Wrong choice, James.

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly. She looked aghast at the reminder.

  Jamie remained silent for a moment, searching for a way to break the awkward silence that he had created. He cleared his throat and began, “I lost my own father several years back and-”

  “Jamie, maybe we shouldn’t discuss such personal details at this moment,” she interrupted firmly and resolutely. “If you think about it, we are strangers, really.”

  He was taken aback by the sharp finality of her words. “I see.”

  Alex pushed herself to her knees and began packing the saddlebags with rapid, jerky movements. “I’m a very private person, you see. I don’t make friends that easily.” Her words just kept spilling out like sour milk as he gaped at her with disbelief. “And when I choose to do so, well, I do it very carefully.”

  “Okay, I get it, Alex,” Jamie finally responded, gritting his teeth at her bitter lecture.

  She continued on anyway, as if she hadn’t heard his response. “I enjoyed our ride, but you and I are from completely different worlds.”

  He scoffed, getting thoroughly pissed off again, even though he had tried to rein it in. “Oh. You mean that you are upper class and I’m just a local... mountain hick? Is that it?”

  Alex stared at him, and for a moment, he thought he saw regret in her hazel eyes. But he wouldn’t bet on it.

  “No, absolutely not, James, I merely-”

  “Don’t bother, Alex. I get the picture.”

  ~~~~~~~

  Alex watched helplessly as Jamie hefted the saddlebags under his left arm and stalked toward Lilah. She rested her hands on her hips, her breath coming raggedly now, but words just failed her. He had been flirting with her. And she had enjoyed it. She had wanted more.

  Say something! A voice bellowed in her head, but her jaw gritted down, biting off any words of apology before they could escape. Jamie was soon mounted and moving off through the trunks of giant trees, that yawned stolidly up into the air like pillars of granite coated with textured, living cells.

  Alex got her body moving then, untying her pawing stallion, and following Jamie reluctantly. She’d be damned if she’d get lost again.

  She tasted an acrid bitterness in her mouth, and the heat of unshed tears burgeoned behind her eyelids, but she lifted her chin and fought them off determinedly.

  You’re so stupid, Alex, honestly. Just admit it. Why did you go with him in the first place? What did you think would happen? What did you WANT to happen?

  Gritting her teeth, she conjured up Richard’s face. She tried to picture her husband’s gray eyes looking at her with love and tenderness. But she only heard his voice.

  “You’re about as useless as a wife could be, Alex.” He was mocking, intentionally hurtful now, the words like needles in her lungs as she breathed in and out.

  “You’d be absolutely nothing if it weren’t for me. Just remember that one, the next time you get all uppity and self-assured. You’re only a back-woods, West Virginia shit shoveler, just like my mother warned me. I wish I’d listened.”

  Alex clenched down on the acrid memory, cutting it off sharply before it could continue, and wrapping her fingers in the stallion’s honeyed mane, she concentrated on nothing at all.

  Waiting for Eden

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  Chapter 9

  Alex awakened slowly. The crimson glow of the alarm clock on her nightstand read 2:30 a.m. She rolled on her side, her hand coming to rest on the empty pillow beside her.

  A pang of longing shuddered its way through her body. Loneliness was here to stay. Richard was gone, and she was making her way on her own now. Even though he was cruel, he was there. He was the only one truly there. Ever.

  But then Elizabeth had crashed into their world. Blond and slender, with a better pedigree, a first-class education, and all the swanky class Alexandra could never achieve.

  Sighing, she squeezed her eyes closed against the intruding thought, and burrowed deeper beneath the soothing warmth of the comforter.

  A raspy creak brought her eyes sw
iftly open again. Through the deep shadows, Alex could discern the slow movement of something... her bedroom door. It was swinging open. With a gasp of fear, she pushed herself into a sitting position and grappled for the light. Her shaking fingers found the knob turned, but the bulb remained dark.

  “Who’s there?” Her breath was coming in sharp pants. A face emerged from the darkness, and she gasped. “Richard?”

  The room was quiet. Yet she would never find sleep again until there was light. Alex sat up, pushed off the bed, and padded her way across the darkened room. She heard a sound again, a movement, a rasp.

  Her breath came faster now. She moved out into the hallway, trailing her hand along the wall, seeking a light switch. Where was the fucking thing? She wasn’t used to the house yet.

  Alex sidled along in the direction of the steps, still feeling her way along the plaster. At the top of the stairs, she encountered the switch. There was another noise from below. She drew a breath and flipped it on.

  At the base of the stairs stood a woman, looking up at her. Alex took in long grey braided hair, a rose colored dress, quite old fashioned, and large brown eyes. Scared eyes.

  The woman lifted her finger to her lips.

  “Ssssshhhhhhh.”

  Alex closed her eyes and screamed.

  ~~~~~~~

  Alexandra realized that she was sitting upright, in bed, with her hands stretched out in front of her.

  Gasping raggedly for breath, she fumbled again for the bedside lamp. This time it turned on. When light flooded the empty room, and she realized what had happened, she closed her eyes in relief. It was a vivid nightmare, only a horrible dream. She’d not had one so frighteningly intense since her childhood.

  Still trembling, she glanced at the clock. It was four thirty-eight. There would be no more sleep for her tonight. No way. Alex rose from her bed, and donned a warm flannel and coveralls. Woodenly, she moved to the bathroom, rinsing her face with cool water and tying her hair in a pony-tail.

  The wearied, familiar ache of depression settled on her, like a hand on her shoulder, cold, firm, and unwilling to let her go. Richard’s hand. If only she could grieve for him, a pure and heartfelt emotion. She could understand grief, and thus handle it, accept it, and let it run its course. But it was so much more than that!

  I think it might be time for a shrink, Alex-girl, a voice drawled sarcastically in her head. You’re a prime candidate for anti-depressants if you ask me. Or a straight-jacket. It was a cruel voice, mocking her without pity. It was the voice of her guilt.

  Alex wandered down the stairs and placed of pot of water on the stove. Tea, she needed tea. Hot, searing, invigorating, wakening.

  A shrink, Alexandra. She tried to push the voice away, as she had in the months following the accident, but found she no longer had the strength. Of course a shrink would see right through you, there’d be no pity for you there either, Alex-girl. A shrink would see through your act, to the core of the egotistical, self-righteous, yet low-bred bitch-just wanting and needing pity and pills.

  Alex slammed the coffee mug on the counter, and a healthy crack appeared along the base. “Lovely.” A hot rush of tears threatened. She picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. It rang five times before she got an answer.

  “Hello?” The voice coming through the phone was scratchy and thick with sleep.

  “Hi Mom.”

  “Alexandra? It’s... five o’clock in the morning, what- are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay, Mom. Physically, anyway. Just needed to hear your voice I guess.”

  “Oh.” Alex heard a ragged yawn from the other end. “I was sound asleep.”

  “I’m sorry mom. I’ll let you get back to bed.”

  “It’s all right Alexandra. I’m up now. What’s bothering you?”

  “Oh, I just had a nightmare... you know how that is. When do you think you can come up and see my new place?”

  “Well, Florida is a pretty good hike from Pennsylvania, Alex. I have a trip to Arizona planned for next week with Sam Ash. Remember him?”

  Alex fidgeted. Since retiring to Florida at the early age of fifty-six, Rhonda Carter had been on a whirlwind tour of single, wealthy men in varied stages of physical decay. It all seemed terribly sad to Alex, but somehow, it seemed to make her mother happy. Rhonda had been a poor and single mother for so many years.

  “I sort of remember him. Mom, I’ll let you go back to bed. Call me when you can get away.” Alex’s conversations with her mother never went any deeper than this. What had she expected?

  “I will, Alexandra. Good-bye, honey.”

  “Mom?” Alex caught her before she could hang up. “Have you heard anything from Dad by any chance?”

  “Alex. When are you going to let the past lie in peace? You know that awful man is either-”

  “Dead or in prison. Yeah, I know mom. Just checking.”

  Alex placed the phone in the cradle and made her tea. Her father had left them when Alex was only six. Her memories of his face were blurred and disjointed at best. He had a thick head of hair, a shade darker than her brown-gold locks. That was all she remembered clearly. That and the fact that he hadn’t loved her enough to stay. Or call, or even send a card on her birthday.

  Opening the cupboard, she reached for a box of cornflakes, but her stomach swiftly contracted at the mere thought of food. Maybe later then. Taking her mug with her, she walked to the stable.

  Bold Venture greeted her joyfully, with a series of deep, hearty whinnies, anticipating an early breakfast. Alex fed him two scoops of grain and a flake of timothy, and began work on preparing several of the other stalls.

  She had two broodmares coming in this afternoon, one a Quarterhorse, the other a Thoroughbred, both of excellent bloodlines. It was a start. Next spring there would be little, feisty babies to deal with. The thought gave her a small but hopeful glimmer of pleasure.

  Around eight-thirty, she heard a dog barking from somewhere outside. Alex emerged from the barn in time to see Diana Sheldon walking briskly up her driveway, with a small yapping mutt of indeterminate breeding at her heels. She was carrying a basket, and Alex’s stomach instantly and greedily assumed there would be food inside. It curled and rumbled heartily within her abdomen.

  Resting her pitchfork against the wooden door, Alex walked to meet the generous woman with a smile on her face. “Oh, please don’t tell me you brought me more food. You’re spoiling my stomach!”

  Diana eyed her dubiously. “It looks as if your stomach needs a little spoiling. Please allow me to indulge it.”

  Laughing, Alex invited her inside. The little, yellow dog preceded them regally, its stiff tail held proudly into the air, exposing a hairless and pinkly-puckered backside.

  “Good Lord,” Alex commented reflexively.

  “This is Kiester, by the way,” Diana introduced. “He’s a general neighborhood nuisance. He can wait outside. I realize he’s a bit…. offensive.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. Since he’s with you, he’s welcome too, I suppose,” Alex replied, eyeing the exposed pink flesh with budding amusement.

  “Don’t worry, he’s clean. No cooties on that butt, I assure you.” Diana laughed at her dubious expression. “When he was only six weeks old, he had an allergic reaction to one of his puppy shots. He lost a lot of his hair. For some reason, the hair on his backside never grew back in.”

  “Thus the name Kiester?” Alex inquired with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, the boys came up with it, and the nickname, unfortunately for Kiester and I, stuck like glue.”

  “Boys?”

  “Jamie has a younger brother, Aaron.”

  The two women sat down at the kitchen table and chatted comfortably for half an hour. Alex could not resist exploring the contents of the basket, and found a loaf of fresh bread, strawberry jam, and even a casserole for later. The warm bread, smothered in butter and homemade preserves, was irresistible to her.

  “You are an amazing woman,” Alex comme
nted with a mouthful of bread. Deciding to try his hand at begging, Kiester rolled on his back at her feet, graphically exposing his equally pink genitals in the process.

  “Cooking has become as automatic as breathing to me. The way my boys eat...” she shook her chestnut mane and laughed.

  A picture of Jamie sitting next to her along the pristine, pine-shrouded stream assailed Alex’s memory. He’d spoken to her of his family then, and she’d cut him off short. “Jamie mentioned that he’d lost his father. I’m so sorry,” she offered cautiously.

  Diana looked Alex in the eye and smiled softly. There was sadness in that smile, but it was tempered with both strength and acceptance. “Yes, my husband passed away about four years ago. It was very difficult for us, but we managed.” She put her hand over Alex’s softly but firmly. “So will you.”

  Alex tried to return the smile, but it was tremulous at best. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

  “Did you love him very much?”

  “I... I really don’t know. I just don’t know.” The tears came then, and they were hot and relentless. Alex felt the woman’s presence move beside her, and she went into the open arms without hesitation. It felt good to cry, and good to be comforted. When the torrent subsided into sniffles, Alex raised herself from Diana’s arms and wiped her face self-consciously.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Diana asked carefully. “I have a good ear, and I keep things to myself. Jamie said that you seem to be having trouble.”

  Her face reddened suddenly. Whatever could Diana Sheldon think of her? “Did he tell you how awful I’ve been to him?” she asked miserably.

  Diana laughed. “He did describe you as a cactus, I believe... a very prickly one. But no, he did not say that you were awful.”

  “I just can’t seem to get my emotions under control. And for some reason, I just... I strike out when that happens.”