by Webb, Peggy
“Virginia...” It was Bolton, striding down the hall toward her, concern clearly written on his face.
He was the last person in the world she wanted to see. She swiped at the water on her face with the back of her hand, but there was nothing she could do about the wet spots on the front of her blouse.
“Here. Let me.” Bolton pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began to dry her face.
“I don’t need your help. You’ve already done enough damage.”
She swatted at his hand, but she might as well have been a gnat swatting at a buffalo. His expression didn’t change as he continued his firm but gentle ministrations.
“I take it things didn’t go well between you and Candace.”
“Bravo, Bolton. You’ve just mastered understatement.”
Silence screamed around them, and Virginia thrust out her chin, daring him to contradict her. Things would be simple if he’d just go away. Then she could bury herself in her work and get over her broken heart, and Candace would eventually forgive her.
“It won’t work, Virginia.”
“What won’t work?”
“You can’t scare me off. I don’t scare.” His smile was one of those quicksilver flashes full of steel and determination. And it was far, far more dangerous than all the threats in the world.
Virginia shivered, then wrapped her arms around herself.
“Cold?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m scared.” She lifted tragic eyes to his. “I scare easily, Bolton.”
“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms and held her there, her head pressed against his chest. “What happened tonight was a temporary setback. Once Candace gets used to the idea of me, she’ll come around.”
Virginia knew she should keep her mouth shut and get through the rest of the evening. But she’d never been one to leave well enough alone.
“The idea of you as what? My lover?”
“No.” This time his smile was the quick brilliance of sun breaking through clouds. “As your husband.”
Chapter Eight
Always, when he’d referred to his role in her future, she’d thought he meant as a live-in lover. Never in Virginia’s wildest dreams had she considered that Bolton wanted to marry her. She was filled with terror at the idea... and with a sense of wonder that wouldn’t be tamped down, no matter how hard she tried.
“My husband?” she said.
“Yes, Virginia.”
Before she could think of a way to skirt this new issue, she saw Candace striding down the hall toward them, her face a thundercloud. Had she heard?
“Mother.” There was enough ice in Candace’s voice to form glaciers. “If you are through making out in the hall, Marge and I are ready to go home.”
Virginia formed a hot retort, but Bolton shot her a warning glance. Funny how their roles had reversed. Tonight he was acting the mature, responsible, levelheaded parent, and she was acting the inexperienced young girl.
“If you’d like, Virginia and I can take a cab and leave the car for you and Marge,” he said.
“That’s a great idea,” Virginia added, whipping up some bogus enthusiasm. “Or if you want to, we can take you back to the house and you can get your car. We don’t want to spoil your fun.”
“It’s a little too late for that,” Candace snapped.
“Candace, don’t push me. I won’t tolerate rudeness.”
“Please...” Candace said. “Can we just go home?”
It was the longest five miles Virginia ever traveled. She and Bolton attempted a bit of light conversation, but for the most part it fell on deaf ears. Finally they settled into uncomfortable silence.
At home, Candace bailed out of the car with Marge trailing behind.
“Look, Bolton. I don’t think it’s a good idea if I come to you tonight.”
“I won’t be selfish. Do what you need to do, Virginia.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss. “If I could change things for you by coming inside and talking to Candace, I would, but I think my presence would only make matters worse.”
“Thanks, Bolton.”
“And Virginia, whatever happens, remember this: I love you.”
He kissed her once more, not in the slow, lingering way of lovers who have all the time in the world, but in the swift, hungry way of lovers caught in the eye of a hurricane.
Virginia fought the urge to hang on, fought the need to cling to him. But she had to let go. She was a parent, and good parents didn’t abdicate responsibilities, they didn’t turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble.
She made it as far as the front door before she turned around. He had finished parking the car and was on the path that curved around the house and led to the guest cottage. The moon was full and impossibly bright, hanging so low, it looked as if she could reach out and touch it. In the moonlight Bolton looked like something she had dreamed, someone who had suddenly appeared in her life and who would disappear just as suddenly.
Virginia put her hand over her mouth to keep from calling him back. The connection between them was so strong that he didn’t need words to know her thoughts. He turned around, her magnificent Apache warrior burnished in silver.
“Virginia...”
“No...” She held up her hand. “Please, Bolton. Don’t come back.”
“You need me.”
“If you come back now, I’ll do something foolish like march into the house and tell Candace that what I do with my life is none of her business.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea. You’re both adults. She has her life, you have yours.”
“No, Bolton. Candace and I have a life together here in Mississippi... and you have one in Arizona.”
He held her with a single glance, and a lump the size of Texas came into her throat. She thought she was going to sink onto the front porch and dissolve into a puddle of tears, a messy middle-aged woman, totally out of control.
If he had come to her then, she could no more have stopped him than she could have stopped the sun from rising. But he merely held her transfixed with a look more powerful than words.
She held her breath. She was still holding it when he turned and vanished down the path, her beautiful young lover, swallowed up by the moonlight.
Inside she leaned against the door until she could stop shaking. Virginia had never been a weak woman, and she wasn’t about to start now. Taking a deep breath, she went down the long hallway to Candace’s room.
The door was locked.
“Candace.” She knocked, but there was no answer. “Candace, let me in.”
There was nothing but stubborn silence from the other side of the door. Virginia didn’t knock again; she wasn’t about to sink to Candace’s level.
“Candace, I’m coming in whether you want me to or not. It will be easier for both of us if you open the door.”
For a while she thought Candace was going to refuse. Virginia had just turned to get the master set of keys, when the door swung open.
There were blotches under Candace’s eyes where her mascara had run. Virginia couldn’t stand the thought of her daughter’s tears. More than that, she couldn’t endure the thought of being the cause.
She made a move to put her arms around her daughter, but Candace ducked out of reach and went to the far side of the room.
“I’m glad you let me in, Candace.”
“It’s your house.”
“No, Candace. It’s our house. It always has been and it always will be.”
“Spare me that two against the world routine, Mother. I’m not a little kid anymore; I’m an adult.”
Virginia studied her daughter. With her chin thrust out and her back stiff, Candace was every bit as stubborn as Virginia. In fact, she looked so much like her mother that Virginia wondered when her child had become a woman. It had happened overnight. Just yesterday Candace had been a chubby little girl in pigtails, and suddenly she was a lovely young woman just beginning to taste the fruits of love and romance.<
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With an empathy given to all writers, Virginia understood the confusion Candace had felt when she’d seen her own mother ignoring convention. She had challenged everything Candace thought was true, everything she’d seen in movies and read in novels about boy meeting girl, falling in love, picking out china patterns, getting married, buying a house and a dog and raising two point five kids. More than that, Virginia had shaken Candace’s ideas about what a mother should be.
Virginia felt daunted. It was a feeling so rare to her that she bought time by rearranging the fresh roses in the cut crystal vase on Candace’s dressing table. Her daughter watched her in silence.
“Where’s Marge?” Virginia finally said, still buying time.
“In the guest room, working on a paper for lit class, she said.”
“I’ll see her in the morning, then.”
“You can apologize to her,” Candace said.
“Apologize?”
“For making her feel like the other woman in a love triangle.”
“Did she say that?”
“She didn’t have to say anything. It was obvious.”
Virginia sat in the blue silk damask chair near the window. The top of the guest cottage was visible, silvery and mystical in the moonlight. What was Bolton doing now? Was he thinking of her?
Candace flounced to the bed and jerked back the covers.
“You can’t even talk to me without looking out the window for him.”
“Candace, I’m not going to apologize to Marge, and I’m not going to apologize to you. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong! For Pete’s sake, Mother. Do you think you’re exempt from the rules just because you’re a famous novelist?”
“Whose rules, Candace?”
Candace’s quick retort died on her lips. She was intelligent and independent. Virginia had nurtured the intelligence and encouraged the independence.
“Touche’, Mother.”
“This is not a game, Candace. It’s a discussion of great importance to both of us.”
“No. It’s not a discussion; it’s a lecture.”
“Call it what you want. I’m going to have my say.”
“You always do.”
“So do you... thank goodness.” Virginia smiled.
An answering ghost of a smile played around Candace’s lips. Besides intelligence and independence, Virginia counted on Candace’s humor and her love to help them over this misunderstanding.
“All right, Mother. I overreacted.” Candace sat in the middle of her bed cross legged. “One time making a fool of yourself in public doesn’t mean the end of the world. I can live with that. What I couldn’t live with is if you told me you’d fallen in love with him and planned to marry him.” She studied Virginia. “You aren’t going to tell me that, are you, Mother?”
Was she so transparent? Virginia had been so carried away by the way Bolton made her feel that she had forgotten how such an unconventional match would look to her own daughter... and to the rest of the world.
Virginia was not the kind of woman who did things halfway. Once she gave herself permission to begin a relationship with a man, she’d opened the floodgates and let all her emotions come pouring out.
Falling in love was one thing, though, and marriage quite another. It had never been a part of the picture for Virginia.
“Are you?” Candace repeated.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Candace. Yes, I’m in love with Bolton Gray Wolf....” Candace groaned. “But that’s all there is to it. I may be a fool, but I’m not that big of a fool.”
“Good. He’s only after your money, Mother.”
“That’s not true! I won’t have you talk that way about a man you hardly even know.”
“Do you know him, Mother?... Other than the obvious, of course.”
“Clearly you’re mature enough to have figured things out, and part of this misunderstanding is my fault for not being up front with you about my relationship with Bolton. But, Candace, I don’t owe you the details. As you pointed out you’re an adult; you’re old enough to know that my libido didn’t die the minute I got my first wrinkle. And neither will yours.”
“My libido’s never been tuned up, Mother, so I really wouldn’t know about things like that.”
“Well, thank goodness for that.”
For the first time since the fiasco at the Bullpen, they smiled at each other. With their mutual affection and their sense of humor, they could get through anything.
Candace got off the bed and hugged Virginia.
“I’m sorry, Mother. This took me by surprise, that’s all. Over the last twenty years I got used to having you all to myself, and I guess I never thought of having to share you. Does that make me selfish?”
“No, it makes you human.” Virginia held her daughter close. “You’ve nothing to worry about, Candace. This week has been a lovely interlude in my life, and I don’t regret a minute of it.”
“Not even that scene at the Bullpen.”
“Not even that. It proves we’re strong. We’re capable of showing honest emotion without letting our feelings damage our relationship.”
“I don’t want to lose you, Mother. You’re all I’ve got.”
All Candace had known of her father over the years was that he sent expensive gifts at Christmas. Sometimes when Virginia thought of the way Roger had ignored his own daughter, she wanted to fly out to California and smash a six hundred-page bestseller over his head.
It was bad enough that he left her; he didn’t have to leave his daughter as well.
“Don’t worry, Candace. You’re never going to lose me... no matter what.”
“Two against the world, Mother?”
“Two against the world.”
o0o
When Virginia had something important on her mind, she couldn’t sleep. If it happened to be a chapter in a book that needed fixing, or a character who needed shaping up, she could just get out of bed, go to her office down the hall, and turn on the computer. Sometimes the screen was still glowing at two o’clock in the morning, but that didn’t matter because she was the only person losing sleep.
She tossed and turned, wadding the sheets in a tangle around her legs. Disgusted, she got up and walked to the window. Was that a pinpoint of light she saw in the guest cottage? Would it be horribly rude to disturb Bolton at one o’clock in the morning?
She climbed back in bed, determined to wait until morning, but fifteen minutes later she knew she couldn’t. She’d never been a patient woman, and she despised loose ends.
She threw on her pink robe, grabbed her flashlight, and tiptoed down the stairs.
o0o
Bolton saw her coming.
He stood at the window watching, and he knew by the way she walked that she was geared for battle. One of the things he loved most about her was her stubborn independence. She challenged him in a way no woman had, in the same way his mother challenged his father.
Bolton smiled. He and his twin sister had heard the story of their parents’ courtship over and over, and neither of them ever tired of it. Jo Beth McGill had led Colter Gray Wolf on a merry chase... and still did from time to time. The thing that was so wonderful about their love was that it allowed for disagreements. He and Callie used to climb the tree behind their house and make bets on the outcome of their parents’ friendly wars.
Callie always sided with Jo Beth. “Mom’s sure to win this one. When she tosses her head and sticks out her chin, Dad had better watch out.”
“Yes, but you know Dad,” Bolton would say, sticking up for his father. “You can’t tell by his face whether he’s going to be a summer rain or a thunderstorm.”
Though Bolton had inherited his mother’s blue eyes and her love for photography, he was like his father in other ways, as unreadable and endurable as the mountains and generally as benign. But anybody who had ever tried to scale a mountain in the midst of a storm knew that mountains can be dangerous.
Bolto
n was still smiling when he opened the door. Virginia didn’t yet know him well enough to be warned.
“You need not be so pleased to see me,” she said. “The purpose of this visit is not unbridled sex.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“Among other things.”
“What other things?”
He guided her to the chair with a hand on the back of her neck. That small touch sent shivers all over Virginia, that and merely being in the same room with him. The cottage was small and cozy, the kind of place that invites intimacy. Bolton had lit the gas logs and pulled the two overstuffed chairs close. His notebook was open on the table beside one of the chairs, and his boots were under the table.
She glanced down at his feet. They were big and substantial, a tall man’s feet, with a light sprinkling of dark hair across the toes. Until she met him, she’d never known how sexy a man’s feet could be. The sight of them made her want to drop to her knees and take him in her mouth.
This wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. She shoved her hair back from her face and glared at him.
“Don’t try to sidetrack me,” she snapped.
“Would I do that?”
“Yes. You’d do anything it takes to have your way with me.”
“And what way is that, Virginia?” Laughing, he sat in the chair opposite her.
“See. You’re doing it again. It’s a deliberate ploy on your part.”
“You read me too well. I’m going to have to practice implacability.”
“If you get any more implacable, you’ll have to hand out maps and instruction books.” Though he was still laughing, his face told her nothing. It was his eyes that gave her pause. Such mysteries were hidden in them that she felt as if she were drowning.
“I don’t think I can trust you, Bolton Gray Wolf.”
“You delight me, Virginia.”
“Oh, hush up. This is hard enough as it is, without you looking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t you ever look in the mirror? Your eyes alone are enough to make saints turn in their crowns. And that smile... don’t even get me started on your smile.”
