Against the Wind
Page 22
* * *
Leslie awakened several hours later, still locked tightly to Jordan. His strong arms around her gave her the feeling that she floated somewhere in heaven, and she snuggled closer to him. She never wanted to leave him and never wanted any other man to touch her. She thought of how he’d made her feel, his tenderness and gentleness. And his patience. He’d made it seem so right, and it was right. She wasn’t ashamed of her freedom with him. She thought of that moment when he’d slid fully into her for the first time. The feeling of him inside of her, moving, stroking, while he kissed her lips and her breasts, setting her afire and loving her. Even as he drove within her, mercilessly drowning her in sensation after sensation, he’d been tender and caring. The memory of it sent shocks plowing throughout her body, and involuntary spasms gripped her love tunnel. She swallowed the fluid that accumulated in her mouth and squeezed him to her, kissing his beloved face and whispering endearments as she did so.
He opened his eyes and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.” A pulsating knot tied up her stomach when she realized that he hadn’t been asleep, that he must have felt the evidence of her desire for him
“You’re a cheat.” She punched him gently in the ribs. “You were playing possum.”
He grinned and joined their lips in a passionate kiss. “Are you happy right now?”
“Happy? If I was lost in the middle of a dense forest and you found me, would I be happy? I can’t explain what I feel. You made this a wonderful experience for me, and I doubt it can ever be duplicated.”
He raised an eyebrow and smiled in that way of his that always made her think her blood had started flowing backward. “Can’t be duplicated, huh? Let’s see about that.” He bent to her mouth, braced himself on his forearms, shifted his hips and took her on an ecstatic, whirlwind ride into sweet paradise.
* * *
With the traffic lighter than usual Monday afternoon as they headed back to the Estates, Jordan put the car on cruise control, got some chamber music on the radio and raised the question she’d expected since announcing her intention to go back to school.
“Why do you have to move to Baltimore just to write a thesis?”
“The graduate campus is there. I’ve asked the dean’s office to look for a small housekeeping apartment for me.”
“I know the campus is there. After all, I’ve taught there full time. But if you’ve finished your classroom work and only have to write the thesis, why can’t you stay home and do it? Why do you want to move into a—a—What you’ll be able to afford won’t be bigger than a shoe box.”
His reference to his home as being hers stunned her, and she took a minute to retrieve her balance. “I have thesis seminars on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. I don’t have a car, and the bus is inconvenient. Also, I don’t know which professors will be on my committee. If they live on the campus, I need to be nearby, because they’ll call meetings for their convenience, not mine.”
She suspected that if he’d decided he didn’t want her to leave the Estates, he’d use every legitimate means at his disposal to prevent it.
“You can ride in with me on Tuesdays, and either Cal or I will take you in on Thursdays and pick you up whenever you have to stay there late, and you can live at home where you’ll be comfortable.” And that settles it, his tone implied.
And she would be dependent on him. But if they were to have a chance, she had to meet him as her own woman, not as a recipient of his benevolence. “I appreciate your offer more than I can say, but I think Baltimore is best. Anyhow, we’ll see.”
She didn’t want to deviate from her course, but she was so full of him, and he’d so completely captivated her that she wasn’t sure she had the ability to deny him anything.
“Let me out at the front door, please,” she asked him when they reached the Estates. Jordan drove the car into the garage, got out and stood beside it, his mind warring with his common sense. He was damned if he’d ever understand Leslie. Why would a twenty-nine-year-old woman want to keep it a secret from the people closest to her that she’d slept with the man whom every one of them knew she loved? For what other reason would she have asked him to let her out at the front door? She was in for a surprise. Nothing escaped Julia. She’d validate her suspicions with one look at either one of them. He shrugged. If Leslie wanted it that way, he’d try not to expose her. But hell, he felt like Sir Edmund Hillary must have felt when he reached the top of Mt. Everest; if he wasn’t careful, he’d crow.
He caught up with her at the top of the stairs. “Why do you want to keep secret the fact that you spent the night in my bed? Are you ashamed of me?”
“Ashamed of you? How could I be? You have to understand that Mom said this sort of…of thing is private, and that it’s bad taste to flaunt it even if you’re married.”
His irritation eased a little. “I see. I don’t like it, but if that’s what you’ve been taught…Hell, how’s a guy to crow? Where’s the pleasure in winning a lottery if you can’t spend the money?” He grazed her cheek with his left hand. “See you at supper.”
* * *
Right after dinner the next afternoon, Leslie worked with Julia in the kitchen, and Jordan leaned against the doorjamb with his ankles crossed, his arms folded and his eyes on her. “I’m going to Dexter. Be back in time for supper.”
He appeared to speak to both women, but his gaze didn’t waver from her, and his knowing smile made her pulse skid. She tried not to focus on him because Julia watched her like an owl. Surreptitiously, of course. Ever the mother, Julia handed him a cookie. “More where that came from.”
He bit into it. “Glad to know it, ‘cause this is wonderful. But don’t you put pecans in them anymore?”
She told him she didn’t have any fresh ones in the house. Leslie sensed his nearness, turned her head, and the kiss he’d aimed at her cheek caught her mouth. He held her face in his hand, increased the pressure, and her arms wound themselves around his neck.
“Love me?”
She nodded. “Uh huh.”
He rubbed his right index finger over the tip of her nose. “Me, too.”
Minutes later she heard the motor of the Town Car taking him away. Julia patted her hair and walked over to where Leslie rolled out dough for pie crusts. “You look so pretty today. You’re just blooming. Why don’t you let your hair down around your shoulders, the way he likes it? When I told him you didn’t like his overalls, he bought some jeans, and that’s all he’s worn since. I tell you that shocked me, because Jordan always hated jeans.”
“You mean you actually told him I said he looked ridiculous in—”
Julia laughed. “I thought it was funny, but he didn’t. I do everything I can to please my Cal.”
Leslie let out a long breath of exasperation. “Face it, Julia. You wouldn’t mind if every man on this planet wanted you.”
Julia stared at her for a second before smiling at some unseen wonder. “You’re right. It wouldn’t hurt me a bit, because then Cal wouldn’t think of leaving home.”
“You’re a case, friend. I’m going to the groves for some fresh pecans. Call Cal and ask him to saddle Serenity for me.”
She grabbed her coat from the hall closet and stopped as a recurring thought presented itself. She walked back into the kitchen. “I know you’d rather Jordan wasn’t interested in me, and I know why. So I can’t understand why you encourage us, why you urge me to look the way you think he wants me to look.”
Julia stopped chopping celery. “I’ve got shortcomings, honey. Plenty of them. But I’m honest. I still think you’d both be better off with your own, but I love Jordan, and I want him to be happy. And the more I see of you, the more I understand why he cares for you. Besides, I’ve grown to like you a lot. I’ll never move against you, unless you do something awful.”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “And you wouldn’t get out of joint if he married me?” Not that she’d do it, but it wouldn’t hurt to get the issue out in the open.
Leslie sucked in her breath and decided to quit before one of them crossed the boundary. “Thanks, I think. I’ll be back shortly.”
When she got to the barn, Ossie awaited her, and he didn’t seem pleased. “I thought Cal was—”
He interrupted her. “Cal is the ramrod. He doesn’t have to play groom for anybody.” He led the horse out of her stall, saddled her, folded his arms and waited for Leslie to mount. “Let’s see how you handle this little exercise.”
The blood rushed to her head, her breath came in pants and she shook in anger. She’d show him. She grabbed the reins, put her foot in the stirrup and slid on to Serenity’s back, but as she did so, she tightened the reins, and the horse plunged into a gallop. Shards of ice pummeled her heart and perspiration poured from her forehead. She heard his shout, far away like a shadow on the wind, but Serenity galloped on as though fleeing something supernatural.
“Whoa. Whoa.”
She sensed a rider alongside her, but didn’t see him, for she’d glued her gaze to the grove of trees that rushed toward her. His horse brushed her leg, and he grabbed the reins from her and brought the panic-stricken Serenity to a halt. She leaned forward, too exhausted and too frightened to speak. To her astonishment, he lifted her from the horse.
“I’m sorry, Leslie. I was needling you, just testing your mettle. I would never—Look, I’m—ashamed that I almost got you injured or maybe worse. I thought I’d go crazy when Serenity took off like that. A spooked horse is dangerous. I—I hope you can forgive me, because I would never intentionally cause you any harm.”
She walked over to the nearest pecan tree and leaned against it. “At least you didn’t let the horse kill me.” She looked at him for a long time. “Do you know this is the first time you’ve addressed me by my name? Why do you dislike me so?”
He looked into the distance. “I don’t dislike you. I just hate the idea of African-American women with white men.”
She glared at him. “What about all these filthy rich African-American guys in sports and entertainment and some not-so-rich ones who have white wives and girlfriends? If that puts you out of commission, you must be a perpetual wreck.”
“Look, I’m not a bigot, and I don’t feel like digging into myself to figure out why I think the way I do. I know you and Jordan care a lot for each other, but…” He shook his head as though bemused. “Why did you decide to ride out here alone?”
“I wanted to pick up some fresh pecans so I could make Jordan some brownies tomorrow, but I left the basket back there at the barn.”
His white teeth flashed against his dark skin. Another first. He’d smiled. “Okay. Stay put. I’ll go get it.”
Minutes later he jumped off his horse and handed her the basket. “Come on, I’ll help you.” They’d picked up about a quarter of a bushel when she decided to satisfy her curiosity about him. “How’d you get here, Ossie? I’ve learned that Jordan collects wounded people, including me. What was your situation, if you don’t mind telling me?”
“Why should I mind? I’m an architect. A commercial building that I designed buckled beneath its own weight before the interior could be finished, killing several people. Up to that point, I was a corporate giant. The builder cut corners and used substandard materials, but I got the blame. I lost a class action suit and with it, my wife and everything I owned. Two years of scuffling from hand to mouth on the streets of Baltimore just about did me in. I stopped Jordan on the street one day with my hand out. He asked me what I’d do if I got a second chance. You know the rest. There’s nothing on earth I wouldn’t do for him.”
“Will you practice your profession again?”
“I hope so. I’ve saved enough since I’ve been here to get that case reopened. I don’t want any money, just my name cleared.”
She patted his hand. “I hope you succeed.”
“What about you?”
A week earlier, she would have been ashamed to tell him, but knowing Jordan loved her in spite of what she’d experienced had freed her from unwarranted guilt. She gave him the essence of the story, adding, “I’m sure that being here has saved my life.”
“No doubt about it. I get the impression that you’re well educated. Am I right?”
“When I finish my thesis, I’ll have earned my MBA.”
He whistled. “Is that going to cause a problem with Jordan? Finishing the degree, I mean?”
She lifted her right shoulder in a shrug that was part hopelessness and part frustration. “I know what you’re asking, but I don’t know the answer. But you can bet I won’t stop till I have that degree. Without it, I won’t be able to take proper care of myself. A bachelor’s degree doesn’t get you far these days.”
“Tell me about it.” He cleared his throat. “Uh…I wouldn’t take Jordan for granted. You’d regret it, sure as I know my name.” He stood and picked up the basket of nuts. “I’ll carry these.”
When she glanced warily toward Serenity, who stood nearby, Ossie said, “Just don’t jerk the reins when you get up. She’ll be gentle as ever.”
She couldn’t help smiling at the concern in his voice. “Thanks.”
He gazed up at her as she sat on the big bay mare. “Friends?”
“Friends.”
She left Serenity for Ossie to groom and walked on to the house. One thing was certain; Ossie had not thrown pebbles at her window. She’d thought Faron the culprit, and now she’d bet on it.
She walked into her room after dinner the next Thursday afternoon as the phone rang. “Hello.”
She listened, dumfounded, as a clerk in the dean’s office told her she had a two-bedroom apartment in Embassy Suites on Charles Street.
“But I told you I couldn’t afford more than $400 a month.”
“It’s been paid for the full term, Ms. Collins,” the woman assured her in a dry, cracked voice that grated on Leslie’s ear.
She didn’t like the sound of it. She wouldn’t put it past Faron Walker to go to that extreme to get her in his clutches. “I couldn’t accept such largess from an anonymous benefactor, Miss Crane.”
What sounded like someone clearing a throat reached her through the wires. “Well, it’s a gift most of our students would give their eye teeth for. You’re fortunate.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept it not knowing who’s giving it to me. So, would you please continue to look?”
She hung up and sat on the edge of her bed, fighting a sense of doom. If Faron…She jumped up and walked from one end of her bedroom to the other and back, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs as she did so. Then she sat down and collected her thoughts. Faron…But he’d lost his job, so how could he afford to? “That’s it,” she said aloud. Not Faron. Jordan. She grabbed her jacket and headed for the stables, where she found Jordan saddling Casey Jones.
His smile nearly sapped her will, but she had to tell him. “I know you meant well, Jordan, but I can’t accept it. I can’t let you pay my rent.”
He didn’t pretend not to understand her. “I couldn’t let you flounder around in a blighted area, dodging God knows what or who. You’re bent on leaving here, and I…well, I wanted to take care of you.”
“I appreciate that. I really do. But Jordan, where does that put me? You’d visit me and, who knows? You might even spend the night sometimes. Right? And how does that add up? Not so good, huh? And what will the dean think if one of the university professors is footing my bills? As much as I love you, Jordan, I think I’d better leave now and not wait for January. I can’t let you take over my life.”
The color drained from his face, but his words belied what that implied. “Think carefully before you make that move. I am not trying to control your life, only to make things easier for you, and I’m not going to get on my knees and beg you to take that apartment. I told you that this i
s your home for as long as you want it. Let me know your plans.” He jumped on the stallion and headed toward the ravine.
Halfway to the house, she passed Cal, seeing and not seeing him. In her bathroom, she washed the tears from her face, though she hadn’t known that she’d been crying. She went to her window and stared out at the rolling hills of Saber Estates, beautiful even in the absence of the foliage, flowers and green grass that made it so magnificent from spring through early autumn. And once again, she knew that she had to face the peril of leaving home. Home! That’s what the place had become to her. Home.
She dragged her old suitcase out of the closet and threw it on the bed. Then she phoned the YWCA in Baltimore and reserved a room for one week. In that time, she should be able to find a more suitable place. More dejected than she’d ever imagined she could be, she began to pack.
She barely noticed when the door sprang open. “Leslie. Leslie, can you check my math? Unca Jordan said I could get a riding lesson soon as I finish it. Leslie, where are you going?” She whirled around just as Clifford reached her. Oh, Lord! She’d forgotten all about him. She stood staring at him the way a guilty shoplifter eyes a store detective. And in her mind, she was guilty. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. What could she say to him?
“Where are you going, Leslie? Are you going to visit your Unca Frederick? Are you, Leslie?” he rambled on, hopefully. “Maybe we could ask my Unca Jordan if I can go too. Can we, Leslie?” She sat on the bed and tried to gather her wits. Clifford struck one of his favorite poses, as he leaned against her with his elbows on her lap and his palms cupping his face as he looked up at her, full of love for her and confident in hers for him.
“Yes. Where are you going, Leslie?” They both looked up sharply as Jordan entered the open door. “I see you’re packing,” he commented, in a strangely soft voice.
Stung by his harshness, she nearly choked on her breath. She didn’t want to leave him—not ever, but if she let him support her and be her lover, would she be better than a kept woman? That wasn’t the free and independent life that she had struggled so hard to achieve. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sounds came from her lips. She fought to retain her composure, and in her despondency, her weariness, she closed her eyes to the two precious beings who tempted her with treasures she couldn’t accept.