That crusty comment from her brother’s dignified soulmate made Ellie double over with laughing appreciation. Sam nudged her. “Pardon me, but I talk this way when I’m embarrassed. I’m not embarrassed very often.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. Think of me as a doctor.”
“All right. I know I could ask your father, and it probably wouldn’t make him bat an eyelash, and he probably will say something about it sooner or later, which is what I want to avoid. Because there’s something about discussing these things with my future father-in-law that would make me mumble like an idiot. That wouldn’t look too mature, now, would it?”
“Birth control,” Ellie said, nodding. “No, Father may be able to talk turkey with his female patients without a second thought, but not with you. You want to hear mumbling? Try to discuss your and Jake’s, hmmm, romantic details with him.”
“That’s what Jake said too.”
Ellie gave her a thoughtful look. “I suspect there’s not much you and Jake can’t talk about. That’s good. Look, never fear. I can get birth control pills for you, if that’s what you want.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“And discreetly pass along a case closed hint to my folks.”
Sam sighed. “Thank you.”
“But if you’re looking for anything that’s not clinical advice, you’re barking up the wrong tree, kiddo.” Ellie frowned and looked away. “I’m the last of the red-hot virgins around here. I probably hold the title in the women’s twenty-and-older division.”
“You’ve never—”
“Just like Jake. Strange but true.”
“Not strange. There’s a lot to be said for waiting. I don’t care how odd it sounds to everyone else. I’m an expert at waiting.”
“Even now?”
“Well, it’s getting tougher by the second. But Jake and I agreed.” She nodded. “Traditions deserve respect.”
Ellie thought of the ruby, and raised a hand to the small leather pouch hanging from a silver necklace under her T-shirt. “Yes, they do.”
They heard footsteps on the kitchen floor and turned to look. “What’s going on out here?” Jake asked, leaning in the door frame with big-shouldered ease.
“We’re talking about birth control pills,” Sam answered. “It’s all taken care of.”
He was silent. He straightened, sank his hands into his trouser pockets, and tried very hard to look casual. Ellie bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. “I should have stayed in the dining room,” he said, then turned and ambled away.
“I better go after him,” Sam said. “He’ll need me to cover for him until he can talk again.” She rose, squeezed Ellie’s shoulder in gratitude, and walked inside.
Ellie faced forward, took the ruby from its pouch, and clasped it in both hands. Her amusement faded. She was just lonely and a little depressed, feeling morbid, because that was her nature, she told herself. Mother and Father and I won’t live to see their children grow up. Something is going to happen.
She refused to believe everything she felt and saw when she touched her own traditions.
Chapter
Nineteen
Sam stood in the foyer of Highview, stiff with apprehension and disgust as she waited for the housekeeper to summon Aunt Alex. She glanced at herself in a large mirror that hung over a marble table near the entrance. Dressed in a simple blouse and long blue skirt, she made a meticulous, self-assured picture inside the mirror’s ornately gilded frame.
Jake did not know Aunt Alex had written her a note, or that she’d come here to answer it. She wouldn’t have the eve of their wedding ruined by Aunt Alex. This confrontation belonged to Sam alone.
Aunt Alex walked into the foyer with quick strides, a pale yellow dress swirling around her, her face composed and pleasant. “I’m very honored you came to see me,” she said. “Considering how busy you must be. Most weddings couldn’t be organized in only a month’s time.”
“I had a lot of help. Help from people who don’t have hidden motives. People who want only to make it the nicest day possible.”
Aunt Alex gestured toward a sitting room off the foyer. “Please. I have a gift for you. And you know, you and Charlotte left quite a few of your belongings here. I thought you’d want them.”
“No. We’re starting over. I came here only to make sure you don’t have any new plan to take Charlotte back. She’s happy with the Raincrows. She’s doing well in school. We don’t need or want anything from you.”
“Don’t be too hasty.” Aunt Alex gave her a wistful look. “I’m offering you an apology. I’ve agonized over how I mishandled your trust. I should have treated Charlotte’s accusations with more respect.”
“That’s not the same as admitting you believed them.”
Aunt Alex stiffened. She walked with rigid dignity into the sitting room, a place of beautiful pastel fabrics and delicate white furniture. Sam hesitated, anger rising, then followed her reluctantly. Aunt Alex stood at a window, gazing out over the lawn and the lake below, her hands clasped behind her. “I was very unhappy when I came here to marry William,” she said. “I was so young—almost as young as you are. My parents pressured me to marry him. He was much older than I, and he drank heavily.”
“I heard he started drinking after you married him.”
“That’s what Sarah wants people to believe. I can understand her protectiveness—he was her brother, a respected man, and she loved him. But it’s not true. I knew when I married him that he drank. That he had a violent temper.”
Sam studied her warily. “If that was true, why did you marry him? It wasn’t the Dark Ages. Your parents couldn’t force you.”
“Oh? They knew I loved Orrin. He had nothing—he was a struggling young attorney. They threatened to ruin him unless I did as I was told.”
“My mother married who she wanted.”
“She had to leave the country to get away with it. And she wasn’t in love with a man who dreamed of devoting his life to politics. If I’d married Orrin then, he’d never have had his dream. I couldn’t do that to him.”
The idea of Aunt Alex sacrificing her own happiness for anyone else’s was new to Sam. She didn’t want to feel sorry for her, or forgive her, but she did want to understand her. Circumstances could twist people’s hopes. She had learned that when her parents died. “You didn’t have to alienate Sarah and everyone else,” Sam said slowly.
“Sarah hated me before I ever acquired her heirloom ruby,” Aunt Alex said with a trace of weary resignation. “And I suppose I hated her because she was so free. You can’t imagine how painful it was for me to see other people doing what they wanted with their lives, loving whomever they wanted. No one stopped Sarah from marrying a man with Indian blood. I thought she had so much happiness—and I had so little.”
“So you didn’t feel any guilt about taking something that was important to her.”
“I wanted to fit in, Samantha. I desperately wanted a measure of control over my hopeless situation. William insisted that I take the ruby. It was the only loving gesture he ever made to me. He knew I didn’t love him. That stone came to represent all the pride and freedom I’d lost. I couldn’t give it up.”
“Was it worth lying about when he died? Was it worth hiding?”
“I thought so, until the day I lost you and Charlotte because of it.”
“A rock had nothing to do with that. You drove us away. And when Sarah threatened to expose you, you decided your public reputation was more important than your interest in keeping Charlotte and me. That’s a strange brand of concern for us.”
“You would have hated me more if I’d fought you. I let you have what you wanted, Samantha, because I love you.”
“You call it love when you pressure your cronies not to give me a job in town?”
Aunt Alex turned. “I’ve never done that. Whatever you’ve heard—it’s just gossip.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Samantha, I don’t want to hurt your pride. The truth
about your problems has nothing to do with me, except for this—I realize, now, that by opposing Jake I made him nearly irresistible to you. I remember how it felt to love someone who was forbidden. The love gets tangled up in a need to prove yourself, to rebel. I was incredibly lucky—what I felt for Orrin was much, much more than a rebellious obsession. Can you say the same thing about your feelings for Jake?”
“Yes.”
Aunt Alex smiled sadly. “Of course, that’s how you’ll answer. He’s been kind to you—he’s a hero. You want to love him. You think you don’t have anywhere else to turn.”
“That’s not true.”
“I’ll tell you why you haven’t been able to find work at the shops in town. Not because of anything I’ve done—it’s because people are leery of him. Jake and his sister have always been peculiar. They’re loners. They’re troublemakers.”
“If that’s all you have to say, I’m leaving.” Sam turned to go.
“Wait,” Aunt Alex called. She walked toward Sam, drawing a slip of paper from a hidden pocket of her skirt. “Here’s how much I care about you and Charlotte. Read this. This is my gift to you—the sort of gift I wish to God someone had offered me when I was about to marry William Vanderveer.”
Sam shook her head. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”
“I’ll read you the contents, then.” Aunt Alex halted, opened the folded sheet and read slowly. “A house in your name—free and clear—anywhere you like. Money—a great deal of money—in a savings account under your name alone. And you’ll have custody of Charlotte until she’s eighteen—legal guardianship.”
Sam inhaled sharply. “In return for what?”
“That you walk away from your engagement to Jake.”
“God, you don’t give up.”
“Samantha, I’m making it easy for you. You don’t have to fight me anymore. And you don’t have to marry Jake just to spite me.”
“You don’t understand. You’ll never understand, because you didn’t have the guts to do what you knew was right for you when you were young. I think you hated my mother for having that kind of courage. You always wanted to show her how wrong she’d been. Well, she wasn’t wrong to marry my dad, and I’m not wrong to marry Jake. You’ll never prove me wrong, any more than you could her.”
Alexandra stiffened. “I had the courage to wait for what I wanted, for what I deserved. And I got it. I always will get what I want, because I know the difference between impulsive daydreams and patient reality. Your mother, bless her soul, died penniless and miserable. She left you nothing. And if you marry Jake, that’s all you’ll ever have—nothing.”
“Stay out of our lives. You want me to be like you—fine, in a way, I am. Because I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get what I want, and you’ll never stop me, or hurt anyone I love.” She spun and walked swiftly into the foyer. Aunt Alex followed, crumpling the paper and slinging it aside. She caught Sam by one arm as Sam reached for the heavy brass handle of the front door. “Pride will ruin you. You’ll make more mistakes because of it,” Aunt Alex said in a low, brutally calm voice. “And finally you’ll see how right I am.”
“I have more control over my life than you’ve ever had over yours,” Sam answered just as calmly. “And I didn’t have to sell myself to get it. That’s what you can’t stand.” For a fleeting second she saw that truth mirrored in her aunt’s eyes. Then it was gone, shielded by fury. “Get out,” Aunt Alex said.
“Good-bye.” Sam walked out into the bright June sunshine, confident and satisfied, but feeling Aunt Alex’s gaze on her back like a claw.
“Where were you?” Jake asked. They sat at the edge of the spring with their bare feet immersed in the cold, clear water. He always called it his granny’s spring, and said how much she’d loved it. Sam knew she would enjoy looking down the slope at it from the wide windows of their front room. That room, like most of the house, was empty. But she had plans. A couch facing that window. Rugs on the floor. A tapestry over the stone fireplace.
“Where were you?” she asked, squeezing his hand and gazing into the spring innocently.
“I was doing what a man is supposed to do the day before his wedding.”
“Buying new underwear?”
“Maybe I don’t wear any.”
“I’ll have to see about that.”
“Hmmm. I let you go through my closet already. I’ve got no secrets.” He emphasized secrets as if he knew she was thinking of her visit to Highview. But he couldn’t know. Sam laughed as casually as she could. “You’ve got a bunch of threadbare old shirts and jeans with lopsided patches sewn inside them. I can’t wait to get my hands on your clothes.”
“I’ll be glad to sit around naked and watch you sew. The question is, will you be able to concentrate on your stitchery?”
Sam couldn’t help giving him a sloe-eyed look of promise. “I doubt it.” She feigned an interest in the top buttons of his faded blue shirt. “Look at those buttonholes. Torn at the edges. I can’t understand how the buttons stay caught in them.” She crooked a finger under the first one, and it popped open. “See there?” He watched her with a hooded gaze that was growing more intense by the second. Her fingers lingered on the soft swath of black hair revealed in the open space. Slowly her finger slid to the next button. It popped from its ragged fastenings just as easiliy. “No hope for that one either,” she said in a breathy voice. “I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
The forest formed a private hollow for them, a dark green cavern where they could escape the chaos of people and wedding preparations that had taken over his parents’ house during the past few days. Visitors from Cawatie were camped all around the main house. Tonight there would be a barbecue over an open pit in the yard, and bluegrass music, and dancing.
They would have to go there soon. This was their last few minutes alone together, before tomorrow. Sam bent her head and, pushing his shirt open, rested her cheek against the center of his chest. “The next time I get to do this,” she whispered, “I won’t stop at two buttons.”
He laughed under his breath. His heart was beating quickly. She felt the accelerated rhythm under her cheek. “You’re making our good intentions hard … hard to remember.”
“This is your bachelor party. Mine too.”
“Oh?” She lifted her head as he trailed a hand across her shoulder and toyed with the buttons of her blouse. Her buttons were neatly trapped in place, but then, his large, blunt fingers had amazing abilities. One button slipped quickly out of its moorings. His fingertips felt like fire against her skin. Sam lost herself in his eyes. A second button went the way of the first. She felt the cool forest air on the tops of her breasts. “Two for two,” he said in a throaty voice that dissolved her bones. He eased her blouse open, then bent his head. Sam heard herself make a low sound of pleasure as he placed slow kisses just above her bra. He drew back, his face flushed, a tortured half-smile soothing the tight angles of his face. Sam felt one moment of shyness. “I don’t have big ones, you know. Nothing fancy. Thirty-four Bs.”
He arched a black brow. “If we’re going by measurements, I’ll get a tape. Maybe you better check all of mine too.”
“Oh, I’ve sized you up. I’ve got a good eye for estimates.”
Both of them were speaking in intimate tones, as provocative as a caress. “Think I’ll make a good fit?” he asked.
“The best.”
He draped his hands over her breasts, molding his fingers to them gently. “Look at that. My hands are exactly size thirty-four B.”
The sensation of his palms pressing against her brought a soft cry of delight, and the serious teasing threatened to end in a pre-wedding honeymoon there on the edge of the spring. He put his arms around her and she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. He was trembling. “Glad we got that settled,” he said hoarsely. “But I might have misjudged by a quarter inch or so. I’ll have to check again. Better wait until tomorrow. Can’t think too clear right now.”
“All you want. Everything. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” Jake held her tightly, rubbing his face against her hair. He knew where she’d gone today; she kept thinking about Alexandra. It was hell to know it but not be able to ask her.
“I went to see Alexandra,” she said. She lifted her head and looked at him with apology. “She sent me a note through Patsy Jones. I didn’t want to tell you.”
“You know I wouldn’t have let you go alone.”
“I’m not worried about anything she can do. Not anymore. Maybe I had to prove it to myself today.”
“What did she say? What did she want?”
“To give me a house, and money. And legal custody of Charlotte.” Sam paused, then added grimly, “And all I have to do in return is give you up.”
“Stay away from her. And Tim. Promise me.”
“She can’t change our lives. I told her so. Do you think I’d leave you? Ever?”
“No. But promise me you won’t go there alone again.”
“I promise.” Sam took his hands. “Let’s not talk about her anymore.”
“I’m glad you told me.”
“I didn’t intend to. Because it isn’t important, and I knew it would make you furious. You look furious now. She’s my relative, and when I think about you hating her, I feel dirty. Stained. Like I need to wash her out of my blood before I can marry—”
He startled her by scooping a hand into the spring. He brought the water to her face, stroking cold rivulets over her forehead and cheeks. He repeated the strange action on his own face. “You’re clean. No need to ever think about it again. Come on. I’ll show you what I was doing today.”
Without another word he pulled her to her feet. They walked, barefoot, up the hill to the house. It sat atop the knoll like a comfortable log crown, at ease with the forest, the windows gleaming in the afternoon sun. He led her through the bare, woodsy-smelling front room with its high ceilings and massive fireplace, its heart-pine floors, down a hall, past the open door to the large bedroom they would share, to the closed door of a smaller bedroom.
Silk and Stone Page 30
