If her expectations were lower, if she didn't ever plan to risk another pregnancy, could they build a future together?
Was that what he wanted to discuss? He was staying to help her find the truth about her father. Didn't that show some interest on his part?
By dinner, she was ready for the discussion he kept bringing up, whatever it entailed.
They'd planned to eat on the veranda, in the shade of an old oak tree. She didn't want to eat formally in the dining room every night as her grandmother had. Showering and changing into a pink-and-white sun dress, Caroline was pleased to see some color in her cheeks. She was still too thin, but maybe the dress would camouflage that fact.
Brandon had also changed his clothes, she noted, when she joined him on the veranda. He looked wonderful.
"Did you get a drink?" she asked.
He raised a glass half full of amber liquid. "Iced tea suits me. Can I get you something?"
"No, I'll wait for dinner and have tea as well."
Feeling almost shy, she crossed the veranda to the table Rosalie had prepared. It looked lovely, set with crystal, fine china and silverware. She touched one plate lightly.
"When we were children, Eugenia would never use this china. It's Lennox and she said clumsy little girls had no appreciation for the finer things in life. So we ate off different china."
She lifted the plate and held it up, looking at Brandon with an imp of mischief. "I could smash it now and there'd be nothing she could do about it."
He nodded. "You could, but why bother? She wouldn't know about it, either."
"I guess." Slowly she put the plate down. "We didn't have such a great childhood," she said slowly.
"So I'm coming to find out."
"I used to love to hear you talk about your childhood."
"It wasn't so great, either. We were dirt poor and hard-pressed sometimes to have food on the table."
"But playing in the river, exploring the bayous with your friends, the way your family celebrated the holidays, it sounded like a Brady Bunch family to me. I often wondered what my mother was like. Had she been raised the same way we were or had Eugenia felt she'd done things wrong with her and changed her tactics with us."
Caroline looked at him uncertainly. "She wanted each of us to marry into families with pedigrees back to the Mayflower and with money to burn."
"And instead, you married me."
She nodded, her gaze dropping to the place setting. The silence seemed endless. "And neither of my sisters is married. Both took off from Baton Rouge as soon as they could."
Raising her eyes, she found Brandon's gaze steady on her. She should say something else, but her throat closed and she felt tears welling. Why had they let happiness slip through their fingers? The years since she'd last seen him seemed so lonely, so empty. Nothing had changed, but the sadness that filled her was almost more than she could bear.
"I fixed fried chicken and all the trimmings," Rosalie said, wheeling a tea cart loaded with bowls and platters out onto the veranda. "Now both of you eat up. Don't want this food to go to waste."
"Cold fried chicken is good the next day," Brandon said, holding Caroline's chair. She sat and blinked to dispel the tears. She refused to let them spill over.
"We got plenty other things to eat, don't have to be eating leftovers," Rosalie grumbled as she began to serve dinner.
It was growing dark by the time they finished. Brandon sat back and sighed, a grin lighting his features. "Best eating I've had in a while."
"Do you cook for yourself?" Caroline asked, curious about how he lived. Curious about a lot of things.
"No, I eat out mostly or nuke something."
"I once thought that'd be fun to eat out all the time. But when I first started in Dallas, I did that a lot and it got old fast. I'd rather have a cup of chicken soup in my own place than endless meals out alone. I like my own company."
Brandon nodded. The time couldn't be put off.
"Do you want to walk along the levee?" she asked. "It's not too dark yet and it's pretty along the river in the evening."
"Fine."
He rose and followed her as she wound through the overgrown gardens and up a short pathway to the top of the levee. The Mississippi River drifted lazily by, the water dark and muddy. Most of the light had faded from the sky, stars were showing in the eastern horizon. Before long it'd be pitch-black.
"And when the last of twilight fades, what will keep us from plunging into the water?" Brandon asked as they headed up the bank.
She laughed softly. "There's going to be a full moon soon. It should peek out over that way in only a little while. With the clear sky, it'll give us plenty of light. We don't need city lights for everything," she mocked softly.
"Honey, you're talking with a country boy. Never even saw the city until I was fourteen."
She smiled. "I remember. Stick with me, I'll make sure you don't fall into the river," Caroline said, reaching out to take his hand.
It was a mistake. She knew it as soon as her fingers grasped his, as soon as she felt his fingers slide between hers and his hand grip hers firmly.
The sensations that danced along her nerves had nothing to do with keeping them safe, keeping from plunging into the river. They had to do with love and longing. With memories of things that should have been locked away and only let out in the darkest of midnight in the privacy of her room.
Instead, once again past and present seemed to mingle and Caroline had trouble differentiating between them. She'd loved him so much and had grieved his loss as much as their baby. More—she'd never seen her baby, never held the child. But her arms ached for longing when she slept alone. And hope died slowly when he never attempted to contact her.
But there was anger mixed up in her feelings, anger he hadn't cared enough to come after her. Anger that he'd so easily let her go. If he'd walked out on her—
But of course in a way he had. He'd turned his back and focused on work to the exclusion of everything else.
She hadn't gone after him either. Should she have stayed? Should she have returned after the worst of her grief had eased and forced a confrontation between them? Fought harder for her marriage?
For the first time she looked at her own behavior. For years she'd considered herself wronged. But she was no princess in a locked tower. Had she also wronged Brandon? Marriage was a two-way street. She'd waited for him to come after her, but the conviction suddenly hit her—she should have gone after him.
"Caroline," he began.
"Brandon," she mimicked, turning to look at him.
Was it possible to have a second chance? Was there time to see if they could make a go of it? She'd put away foolish, girlish romantic thoughts. She could enter into an alliance with more realistic expectations now.
"You asked me if I ever thought about you. I thought of you often after you left," he began.
"I thought about you all the time," she confessed.
"I'm afraid to ask how you thought about me."
Should she tell him the truth? Would it matter now after all the years?
"I was devastated at first," she began. "Then I got angry.
"I could tell," he murmured dryly.
"Hush, I'm telling this and don't need interruptions."
He smiled in the darkness. She always liked to talk in the dark. Maybe it had something to do with the way her grandmother raised her. She had to be so proper and controlled where people could see her. But under cover of darkness Caroline could let her true self surface.
Had he made a mistake not coming for her after dark, he wondered whimsically. For a moment he let his imagination roam on what the present would be like if he'd done things differently five years ago.
"I needed you and you weren't there," she said.
"When?"
"All the time," she said. "When I lost the baby. I wasn't even home from the hospital an hour before you left. You were at work when I woke up and when I went to bed at night. At least,
I thought you were at work."
His hand tightened on hers. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know. It occurred to me maybe you weren't working, maybe you had—"
"Had what?"
"Other needs? Others who could help you through that time?"
"If you are asking about other women, say so."
"Okay, was there someone else?"
Chapter Five
"Caroline, you're the most exasperating woman I've ever known. I can't believe you'd ever think such a thing!"
"It's not hard. Why else would you be gone all the time?"
Brandon dragged his fingers through his hair and turned to stare at the slow-moving river.
"I blamed myself for the loss of our baby. If we'd had more money we wouldn't have lived there. Throwing myself into work was my way of dealing with the situation. Next time, I vowed, there'd be no third-floor apartment. You'd have the best care money could buy!"
"I told you living there had no impact. The doctor was clear there was nothing we could have done. That precious baby was just not meant to be born. I railed against fate for months, inconsolable. But that didn't change anything." She stopped for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I loved our apartment. It was my first real home."
"And that wasn't," he said nodding back toward the mansion.
"No. It was a place I lived with my grandmother. It was her home, her avocation almost, but to me it was just a place to stay while I was growing up. Our apartment was the first place I truly felt at home."
He ducked his head trying to see into her eyes. "I never knew that."
She shrugged. "You should have. I did all I could to make it nice for us."
"It was a home. And cold as ice once you left. I couldn't stay when I finally realized you weren't coming back. Everything there reminded me of you."
Caroline knew she owed Brandon the truth she'd just realized.
"I shouldn't have waited for you to come after me. It was my marriage, too. I realize now, that I should have fought for it. But at the time, I thought that if you came after me it would prove that you cared. I was young. Still had fairy tale ideas about marriage, I guess."
He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I don't think I could offer you enough assurances. I tried, but obviously failed."
Slowly, she reached up and touched his cheek lightly with her fingertips.
"I was only twenty-one. A kid really. And kids that young shouldn't have to face life-and-death problems like we did. I was too young to know that time gradually heals everything—even the loss of a baby. Though not completely. I wake sometimes in the night and think I hear an infant crying. My arms longed to hold that baby, my heart still aches with the loss. She'd have been almost five, starting kindergarten in the fall."
"So you think it was a girl?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I imagine a little boy."
"Don't think about it, honey. It'll tear you apart if you keep dwelling on it."
"I know that. I discovered that in the first months afterward. But sometimes I just can't help myself."
He drew her into his embrace, holding her close to his heart, rubbing her back slowly. It was meant to comfort, Caroline knew. But the feel of Brandon's arms around her didn't soothe, but excited.
She drew in a breath, surrounded by his scent, enticing and male.
She wanted more than comfort. She wanted affirmation that he'd thought about her over the years. That he'd wanted her with the same longing and remembered fever with which she ached for him.
She tilted up her head, wishing that it wasn't so dark, wishing she could see his expression, look into his eyes and see what he was feeling.
"I'm glad you came after all," she whispered.
When he lowered his face to kiss her, she responded eagerly.
So familiar, so different.
She kissed him with all the longing of five long empty years. Giving no thought to the future, Caroline plunged herself into the present. She'd been too long without the feel of a man's arms around her, without the exquisite zinging in her blood, without the sensations that brought her to life as nothing else ever had. She'd missed Brandon, and his touch, his special excitement.
The kiss went on so long Caroline lost track of time and place. Brandon anchored her to earth or carried her to the stars, she wasn't sure which. Eons passed or time stood still. They were alone in the world or in a world of their own making, where everything was possible, and nothing had the power to hurt.
When Brandon slowly lifted his head, searching her face, touching her lips lightly, she was dropped back into reality.
"Stay with me tonight," he said, his hands molding her to him.
Shocked at the suggestion, she hesitated. There was so much between them. Nothing had changed. Would taking such a step he proposed solve anything? Or make it worse?
Yet when he held her, she could scarcely think. Only feel. Feel the pleasure her husband always gave her. Feel the fire in her blood that ignited only when he touched her. Feel connected, safe, free.
How could anything be worse than the separation they'd endured? Maybe it was time to let go of the past and try again. Excitement flared. Swallowing hard, feeling daring and alive for the first time in years, she slowly nodded.
They walked back to the house, awareness between them strong, the knowledge of what they were about to do acting as an aphrodisiac. Despite the darkness, Caroline found the path with no difficulty, feeling as if she were floating above the sandy surface.
Not two minutes earlier, she'd wished for more light, but the brightness in the house seemed harsh after the soft moonlight on the levee. For a moment, she panicked. Did she know what she was doing? She hadn't seen Brandon in five years. They'd separated under the worst of circumstances.
But when he brushed his lips against hers again, she knew the fever in her blood couldn't be quenched. She had so little, a night in his arms would hurt no one. Even if he didn't stay, even if business proved a stronger pull, she'd have one more memory. A happier one, to replace some of the sad ones.
He led her into his room and shut the door. With a muffled groan, he snatched her close and hugged her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. This was where she belonged. Did Brandon know they belonged together? He couldn't be so loving if he didn't feel it, too.
When he picked her up and gently laid her on the bed, Caroline forgot to think. Ignoring her doubts, she knew only that she wanted him more than anything. Craved his touch, longed for the passion she knew she'd find in his arms. The past was gone. Maybe they could forge a new future together.
As he lay down on the bed beside her, she smiled shyly and reached out to draw him closer. For the first time in years, Caroline felt she'd come home.
The chirping of Brandon's phone woke her. It was just after dawn and the sky was a soft blue. Cool air stirred through the open French doors. Caroline rolled her head and looked at him, her heart kicking into overdrive. He lay beside her and looked so dear she could scarcely breathe. She wanted to find the phone and smash it to smithereens. He'd wake up any second and be drawn into the call from his business.
He opened his eyes and gazed into hers.
The chirping sounded louder, more insistent.
"Good morning," he said, brushing a kiss across her lips.
Before she could respond, Brandon rolled over and sat up, reaching for the phone. The move dislodged the sheet and Caroline scrambled to pull it over her. This wasn't how she'd envisioned waking up.
They'd made love often when they lived together, yet the bold light of day made her feel as shy as their first time so long ago.
"Madison," he said. "And this had better be good or you're fired."
Betty Jean had been with him for almost five years. She knew when to call and when not to, but frustration built. One glance at Caroline and he knew she had the same thoughts she always did about his work. And this time he wasn't sure he could blame her.
"Boss,
it's not good. Bendix is threatening to go to the newspapers and claim we ripped him off with the software and it's all scam. Joe can't handle all the details and Martin doesn't have your clout."
"Blast it all!"
He pushed back the covers and stood, walking to the window. It was just after dawn, far earlier than he'd wanted to wake up.
"Sorry to cut your weekend short."
"I'll be there as soon as I can make it."
He disconnected and turned to look at Caroline. The frown on her face assured him she'd heard his comment and was clearly unhappy.
"I have to go," he said.
"Go," she said, looking away.
Her hands balled into fist on the sheet. Nothing changed. Why had she thought a night together would change everything.
"I didn't plan this. There's a major problem with one of our largest clients. I've got to get to the office to assess the situation, real and potential, and then see what we can do to minimize any fall out."
"So go," she said. "There's no one here stopping you."
"Look at me."
He strode over to the bed and leaned across it, putting his face almost against hers. Slowly she turned and looked at him, her eyes wide and impassive.
"Don't pout," he said, wanting to kiss those slightly swollen lips, change her frown to that slumberous look she got when they made love. But there wasn't enough time.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, leaning another few inches to brush her lips with his.
"Don't bother," she said. "I'll finish the search on my own. And I certainly can manage my own life without your help. I have for five years."
Brandon straightened and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Turning, he reached in the drawers for a change of clothes. He still had a couple of new shirts and another pair of khakis. He headed for the bathroom.
Caroline could almost see his mind already spinning making preliminary plans for damage control.
Caroline waited until he closed the bathroom door before venturing from the bed. She found her sundress in a puddle on the floor where she'd discarded it last night. Drawing it on, she looked at the tousled bed.
Letters to Caroline (The Talmadge Sisters Book 1) Page 7
