Edge of Forever

by Sherryl Woods

  The next time she saw Nick began with a kiss so sweet and tender it made her heart ache with longing. Nick’s lips were hungry and urgent against hers and Dana felt herself responding. Heat spread through her limbs until she was clinging to him. The last time, the last time, was like a refrain she couldn’t get out of her head, even as her body trembled and begged for more.

  At last she pushed him away. Turning her back on him so he wouldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes, she walked into the back room at the library and began unpacking the lunch she’d brought for the two of them.

  “We have to talk,” she announced.

  Clearly puzzled, Nick studied her. “Why so serious?”

  Dana took a deep breath and said, “We’re spending too much time together.”

  He stared at her in astonishment. “Where did that come from?”

  “It’s something I’ve been thinking about since the other night.”

  “Since the birthday party.”

  She nodded.

  “I see. Do I have anything to say about the decision or is it unilateral?”

  “It’s my decision and my mind is made up.”

  Nick watched her as he peeled a tart Granny Smith apple, then split it and gave her half. “The way I see it,” he began slowly, never taking his eyes off her face, “we’re not spending nearly enough time together. You and I are going to be together one day. It’s as inevitable as the change in seasons. You know it, Dana.”

  She felt color rise in her cheeks, but she met his gaze straight on and made her tone cool. “I’m not denying the attraction, Nick. I’m just saying that’s the end of it. Eventually you’re going to want a wife. Tony needs a mother. We’ve talked about this before. I’m not about to be either of those.”

  She nearly choked on the words. The ache in her chest was something she would have to live with for the rest of her life.

  “Why not?” Nick demanded. “You care for both of us.” When she started to protest, he silenced her. “Don’t deny it. I know you do and all that nonsense at the Leahys is just that: nonsense.”

  “That doesn’t matter. How many times do we have to go through this? I’ve made choices for the rest of my life. You don’t fit in. Leave it that way now, before we all get hurt.”

  “I can’t do that, Dana. You’re in my heart and there’s no way to get you out. I said it the other night and I’ll say it again and again until I make you understand: I’ll give you time if that’s what you need, but I won’t leave you alone.”

  She grasped at straws. “People are already talking about us, Nick.”

  “Let them.”

  “That’s easy for you. You’ve lived here your whole life. People respect you. They don’t even know me. I don’t like being the subject of gossip. It hurts.”

  “If you’re worried about your reputation, there’s an easy way to resolve that. Marry me.”

  Dana’s heart pounded and blood roared in her ears, but she forced herself to say, “You’re missing the point. Didn’t you hear what I said? There will be no marriage, Nicholas. Not for me.”

  “Was your last marriage such a disaster? Is that it?”

  Dana felt something freeze inside her as her thoughts tumbled back in time. Sheer will brought them back to the present.

  “I won’t discuss my marriage with you,” she said, her lips tightly compressed. “Not now. Not ever.”

  Sound seemed to roar in her head until she could stand it no more. The hurt look in Nick’s eyes was equally impossible to bear.

  She clamped her own eyes shut and held her hands over her ears, but she could still see, still hear. “Go, Nick. Please.”

  “Dana, this doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It does, Nick. It’s the only thing that does.”

  Nick stared at her, his eyes pleading with her to relent, but there was no going back. This was what she had to do. For Nick and Tony. For herself.

  But, dear God, how she hated it.

  Chapter 7

  It was impossible to grow up in a small town without harboring a desire for privacy. The same things that made a community like River Glen so appealing were the very things that could set your teeth on edge. Friendly support could just as easily become outright nosiness. As a result, Nick was a man who understood the need for secrets, and until he had fallen in love with Dana he had been perfectly willing to let each man—or woman—keep his own.

  But he sensed there was something different about Dana’s secrets, something deeper and more ominous than an understandable need for privacy. Her reluctance to discuss even the most basic things about her marriage, her effort to maintain a distance, the tension-laden silences that fell in the midst of conversation, were all calculated to drive a wedge between them, to prevent him from asking questions about a past she didn’t care to reveal.

  Though he hated it, for days Nick tried playing by Dana’s latest rules. He resumed eating his lunches at Gracie’s and spent his evenings at home. He didn’t even drive past her house, though there were times when he longed to do just that in the hope of casually bumping into her.

  Foolishly, he thought time would make her give in or at the very least make it easier for him. Instead she held firm and it was getting more and more difficult for him to keep his distance. He was lonelier than he’d been since the awful weeks after Ginny’s death.

  With so many empty hours in which to brood, he even found himself jealous of his own son, who continued to spend his afternoons at the library and came home filled with talk of Dana. Nick listened avidly for some hint that she was as miserable as he was, but Tony’s reports were disgustingly superficial and Nick was too proud to probe for more.

  It wasn’t until the following week when he stopped by town hall that Nick got any real insight into Dana’s mood. He walked into Betsy’s office and sank down in the chair beside her desk. He removed the hard hat he’d put on at one of his building sites and turned it nervously around and around in his hands.

  Betsy glanced up from her typing, her fingers poised over the keys. She frowned at him.

  “Nicholas.” There was a note of censure just in the way she said his name.

  “Morning, Betsy.”

  She took off her glasses. “You look like a man who could use a cup of coffee,” she said more kindly, and went to pour him one. Then she sat back down, folded her hands on her desk and waited.

  Nick scowled at her. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  “Should I?”

  “I’m not the one at fault, Betsy, so you can just stop your frowning.”

  “Is that right?”

  He finally swallowed his pride. “Okay, dammit, I’ll ask. How is she?” Betsy opened her mouth, but it was Nick who spoke. “And don’t you dare ask me who.”

  She chuckled. “I think I know who you’re interested in, Nicholas. I’m not blind.”

  “Well?”

  “Oh, I’d say she looks just about the way you do. Every time I’ve tried to get her to tell me what happened, she snaps my head off. Maybe you’d like to explain what’s going on.”

  He crossed his legs, propped the hat on one knee and raked his fingers through his hair. “I wish to hell I knew. One minute everything was fine and the next she didn’t want to see me anymore. I tried my darnedest to get her to tell me what was wrong, but she kept giving me all this gibberish about needing space.”

  “Maybe you pushed her back to the wall.”

  “Is that what she said?”

  “She hasn’t said a thing. She looked downright peaked when I saw her on Monday, so I went back to the library again yesterday and she was still moping around. I tried to get her to open up, but she just shook her head and said it was something she had to work out on her own. I invited her over to have dinner with Harry and me and she turned me down.”

  Betsy pursed her lips. “I don’t like it, Nick. Dana’s hurting about something and it’s not good that she’s closing out the only folks around here
she knows well. She has to talk to someone or she’ll explode one of these days. Can’t you try to get through to her? Looks to me as though she needs a friend real bad.”

  “A friend,” Nick repeated with a touch of irony.

  Betsy reached over and patted his hand. “You always were an impatient man. Being a friend isn’t such a bad place to start, Nicholas. Try to remember that.”

  Nick sipped his coffee to give himself more time before answering. At last he nodded. “You’re right, Betsy. I’ll talk to her tonight, if she’ll see me.”

  “Maybe this is one time you shouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “Maybe so.” He bent down and dropped a grateful kiss on her cheek before he left.

  All afternoon he tried to plan his strategy. He vowed to unearth the real cause of Dana’s sudden retreats, of her obvious fear of commitment. A woman as gentle and generous as Dana would make a wonderful wife and an incredible mother, but each time he stepped over the boundaries she had set—both spoken and unspoken—something seemed to freeze inside her and the chill crept through him, as well.

  Nick had the resources to check into Dana’s past, but using them offended his innate sense of decency. Confrontation would only send her farther away. The only alternative was to push her gently, to create an atmosphere in which revelations would flow naturally. Nick wondered if he possessed the subtlety necessary for such a tricky task, especially when he felt like cracking bricks in two to vent his frustration.

  It was dusk when he walked through town toward the library. As he strolled, he was oblivious to the friendly greetings called out by his neighbors, who stared after him in consternation. All his attention was focused on Dana and the intimidating realization that he was putting his happiness and Tony’s at risk by forcing the issue. He tried to remember Betsy’s caution that what Dana needed right now was a friend, not an impatient lover.

  As he waited for Dana to close the library, he leaned against her car and listened to the calls of bobwhites and whippoorwills as night began to fall. Fireflies flickered and the first bright star appeared in the sky, followed by another and then another, until the blue-black horizon was dusted with them. The air was scented by the sweetness of honeysuckle and the tang of salt spray from the river. It was a perfect night for romance and his body throbbed with awareness.

  “Nick!”

  Dana’s startled voice brought him out of his reverie. He looked up and grinned at her, hoping to get a smile in return. Instead, she wore a frown. She stayed away from him, her arms folded protectively across her chest. Her stance was every bit as defensive as it had been on the day they’d met, and the realization saddened him. How could two people spend so much time together and still be so distant?

  “What are you doing here?” she asked warily.

  “I thought we should do some more talking.”

  “Why didn’t you come inside, instead of lingering out here in the shadows?”

  “I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

  Her shoulders seemed to stiffen at the implied criticism. “The library is public property.”

  “That’s hardly the point,” he said gently. “The library is your domain and you made it very clear the other day that my coming there was a problem.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following your logic. You wouldn’t come into the library because it might upset me, but it’s okay to lurk around on the street.”

  “You didn’t say anything about the street,” he pointed out, hoping to earn even a brief grin from her. She didn’t relent.

  “It’s not just your coming to the library, it’s…oh, I don’t know.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “It wouldn’t work for us. I was only trying to save both of us from being hurt somewhere down the line. Can’t you see that?”

  “I don’t see how I could hurt much more than I do now. I’ve missed you.”

  For an instant he thought a similar cry might cross her trembling lips, but she only said, “Nick, it will pass. You’ll meet someone new.”

  One brow arched skeptically. “In River Glen? I’ve known everyone here since I was born.”

  “You could drive to Richmond or Washington if you were all that interested in meeting new people.”

  He shook his head, dismayed by her cavalier attitude, her willingness to hand him over to some other woman. He felt an explosion building inside, but he fought to remain cool, controlled. “You just don’t get it, do you? You’re not some passing infatuation for me. I’m not chasing after you because you’re the first attractive woman to move to town in years or the first one to tell me no. I…”

  He stumbled over saying he loved her, afraid that such a declaration would be too intense for her to handle. Betsy had warned him of just that. “I care about you. You’re a very special woman and I don’t want to replace you.”

  “I have to have some space, Nick,” she said at last, leaning up against the car beside him and staring into the darkness. “That’s what I came here for.”

  “I’ve given you space.”

  Even in the shadows he could see her lips curve in a half smile. “No, you haven’t. Until these last two weeks, you’ve been at the library every day for lunch. You’ve taken to dropping by my house whenever you like. Do you realize that in the two months I’ve known you, I haven’t finished a single project around either the house or the library on my own?”

  “We fixed the roof.”

  “You fixed the roof.”

  “What about the bedroom?”

  “You did that, too.”

  “What about the garden? It’s flourishing. When I helped you weed it…”

  “You see? That’s just my point. You’re taking over. First the roof, then the bedroom, the garden. There’s nothing left that I can point to with pride and say, ‘That’s mine.’ I need that feeling of independence. I need to stand on my own two feet. I can’t have you jumping in to do things before I even get a chance to try.”

  He tried not to show how much the comment hurt. “I thought I was helping.”

  “I know you did, and you were a help, Nick. There were a lot of things I couldn’t possibly have done by myself, even if I’d wanted to, but you didn’t even wait for me to ask.”

  “And that’s a problem?”

  “It is for me.” She swallowed hard, then said quietly, “I don’t want to begin to rely on you.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I know you don’t. You’re a very generous man, but I feel pressured by that generosity.”

  “I don’t mean to pressure you.”

  Dana sighed. “I know that. It’s me. It’s how I feel. I won’t allow myself ever to be trapped by a man again. I won’t be dependent on someone else for my happiness.”

  The revelation took him by surprise, but it made sense. Everything she’d done pointed to a woman crying out for freedom and independence, a woman determined not to repeat some past mistake.

  “Tell me about it,” he pleaded, desperate for something that would make him understand. “Why did you feel trapped? Was it because of your marriage?”

  “Yes,” she admitted with obvious reluctance. “And that’s all I’m going to say on the subject.”

  He reached out to touch her, then withdrew. “It’s not enough. I need answers, Dana. More than that, I think you need to give them. You have to deal with whatever it is, then let it go.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to to.”

  He felt the frustration begin to build again. “By keeping it all inside? You have friends who want to help. Me. Betsy. Let us.”

  “Can’t you just accept the fact that this is the way it has to be and let it go?”

  “No.” The cornered expression in her eyes had almost made him relent, but he was determined to have this out with her. His vow not to confront her faltered in the face of her resistance. Confrontation now seemed to be the only way to open up a real line of communication. If she still wanted him out of her life, so be it, but he was going to know the
reason why. The real reason.

  Up to now that reason had been hidden behind her carefully erected facade. All this talk about feeling pressured and needing independence was part of it, but he sensed, as Betsy had, that there was more. Something had triggered those responses in her and apparently it had to do with her marriage.

  “Dana, I’m not just being stubborn,” he said at last. “Any fool can see that something is eating away at you. Can’t you understand how important it is to me to be here for you? I think you and I could have something really special together, but it won’t happen if you keep shutting me out. Talk to me. I can be a good friend, Dana, if that’s what you need now. I’m on your side.”

  “This isn’t a game where people have to choose sides, Nick.” She sighed again. “Oh, what’s the use? I knew I couldn’t make you understand.”

  “Say something that makes sense,” he retorted. “Then I’ll understand.”

  “Nick, please. I don’t want to hurt you. You have been a wonderful friend, but that’s all it can be between us.”

  Dana watched as Nick fought to control his irritation.

  “Isn’t that what I just said?” he demanded, his voice rising. Dana flinched and felt the muscles in her stomach tense. Then she relaxed as he hesitated, swallowed and said in a more level tone, “Have I ever asked you for anything more?”

  “You know you have.”

  Nick jammed his hands in his pockets in a gesture that had become familiar to her. “If I have, I’m sorry. When we make love, I want it to be what you want, too. I would never knowingly rush you into doing something you weren’t ready for. If you want nothing more than friendship now, I’ll give you that.”

  “But you’ll go on wanting more. It’s there in your eyes every time you look at me.”

  “It’s in your eyes, too, Dana,” he said softly.

  Only a tiny muscle twitching in her jaw indicated that she’d heard him. She didn’t dare linger to examine his meaning too closely. She didn’t dare admit that he might be right. She couldn’t cope with that explanation for the unending restlessness, for the inability to sleep after an exhausting day.