“Lord, I won’t do that again.”
The minute she removed the blanket, her entire body shivered from head to toe. Bracing against the draft of simply walking through the house, she rose tremulously to her feet. Leaning against the cool surface of the wall, she fought to clear her fuzzy vision so she could be sure the furnace was still working. Her teeth clinched tightly against the chill rippling her skin. Tori expected to see icicles clinging to the thermometer dial, yet saw that it was seventy degrees. Giving the dial a twirl, she stumbled to the bathroom in search of aspirin.
Her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped half the pills on the counter. Tori scooped up four and washed them down with water from the tap. She closed her eyes against the steady drip that she still hadn’t had repaired. Each drop that hit the porcelain hammered through her aching head. She leaned against the mirror behind the sink. The cold glass was soothing on her hot face. She didn’t know how long she stood there; time seemed to have lost all meaning. Tori shuffled back to bed, falling among the blankets, pulled them to her forehead, and finally fell into a feverish sleep.
At some point, Sharon called. Tori must have been lucid enough to carry on a brief conversation, for her mother didn’t sound alarmed. Nothing was mentioned about illness, headaches, or fever. If her mother had known, Tori knew she would come over immediately. As much as she loved her, Tori didn’t want her mother hovering over her now. All she wanted was to shut out the world and sleep.
The fever raged on. Unknown to Tori, at times it was dangerously high. She thought someone was placing cool washcloths on her hot head. Each time, she smiled in gratitude. She even imagined she felt a hand stroking her face. When she reached up to caress the comforting hand, her fingers touched coarse hair, and she murmured Jim’s name.
For three days Tori lapsed in and out of consciousness. She was delirious with fever and mumbled words of appreciation whenever her head was lifted from the sweaty pillow so that she could sip from the glass of delicious water to wash down the pills that had been put into her mouth. She would squint her hot eyes, trying to focus on Jim’s face as he leaned over her. But the room was dark and the hallway light shining against his back created a silhouette, so she couldn’t see very well. She forced a smile, touched his face, and fell asleep again.
As the fever raged on, she thought she was dreaming when she felt a hand holding hers. She awakened enough to feel something cool being slipped onto her finger. Her hand seemed so heavy as she lifted it to see the way lamplight gleamed from the gold band. She didn’t know how it got there, but she knew there was an inscription inside. As she fell back into a stupor, she imagined she heard a voice whisper in her ear.
“I pray she was right when she promised the ring holds magic. If so, you will not only recover quickly but one day you will love me as I love you: with all my heart, forever.”
Just as the sun was slipping over the horizon on the fourth day, Tori opened her eyes, wincing against the sore muscles of her back. In the semi-gloom of her bedroom, she felt a presence near her. She turned her head, and there, beside her was a man. He was lying on his side; his arm was bent to rest his head on his hand as he looked into her eyes. The image was vague, billowy, yet she made out his form. It then occurred to her that she could see through him, to the window next to the bed. Instantly, her heart started fluttering in her chest and she began to tremble. This couldn’t be true; it wasn’t possible.
“Avery?”
A hesitant but loving smile, “Victoria, my love…”
Tori fainted.
Chapter Ten
Tori awoke with someone gently slapping her face. Her body tensed rigidly before she got her bearings.
“Mom? What are you doing here?”
At once, bits of information came flooding into her memory. She was so intent trying to remember she missed some of her mother’s words.
“…so I came over here to see if you’re all right.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, what did you say?”
Sharon sighed. “I said that I had the strangest feeling something was wrong with you, so I came over here to see if you’re alright. Tori, how long have you been sick?”
Absentmindedly, Tori replied while she glanced around the room.
“Oh, for a couple of days now. It wasn’t that bad, Mom, honest. I had a headache and may have been running a slight fever. Nothing to get all upset about. I’m better now; I think I may just live after all.” She forced herself to look at her mother and offered as good a smile as she could muster.
“Gee, wonder why I don’t believe you, Dear?” Sharon took Tori’s hand to stare at the ring on her left hand. “This is beautiful, Tori. Where did you find such an exquisite ring?”
“It’s just costume jewelry, Mom. I ran across it when I was looking in a small shop in town. I thought it was pretty and the price was right, very cheap, so I bought it.”
Tori threw back the blankets, when did she put the extra ones on the bed? and stood up to prove she was feeling okay. Her head began to swim and she fell back across the rumpled bed. She closed her eyes and covered them with her hand, fighting down the nausea that threatened to overcome her.
“Ah, yes, I can see that you’re just fine, Tori. Why didn’t you call me?”
“Mom, in case you haven’t noticed lately, I am now an adult. I did just fine. I took care of myself.”
“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”
“Oh, a few hours, I guess.”
Sharon tugged Tori’s body around so that she was lying back on her pillow. She pulled the first two blankets over her daughter.
“Yeah, right. I’m going to fix you some tea and make some toast. You’ll have to start out small, but you’ll be eating real food soon. Just rest. Do not, repeat, do not, get out of this bed. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Tori raised her head from the pillow. “I really should get up and work on the book. I haven’t done anything for the last few days. I’m going to get behind schedule.”
Sharon looked at her worriedly. “Tori, I went first to your office, looking for you there. Honey, you have been working. There’s quite a bit of new material there, or so it seems to me.”
Tori moaned and fell back against the bed.
O God, it’s happened again. What’s wrong with me?
“Honey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. How about that tea now? That sure sounds like a good idea to me.”
She closed her eyes to signify she was tired, and Sharon bustled from the room. From the kitchen, Tori heard the sound of pots and pans clattering to the floor and her mother’s whispered oath. She grinned, then her mouth fell as she remembered that new material had been written while she was sick. It was possible she had forgotten, but she didn’t remember writing one word for almost a week now. So, if not her… who did? And what was that thing she had seen… or what she thought she had seen? All of this just wasn’t within the realm of reality. To consider the possibilities made her head feel worse, dizzier.
* * *
Sharon spent the next two days with her daughter. Only then did she feel comfortable leaving Tori alone. She supervised as Tori ate a bowl of hot soup and drank all her milk before she would go home.
“Now, you promise me, if you need anything, anything at all, you’ll call me right away? Promise, or I’m not leaving.”
Tori stood to kiss her mother’s cheek. Holding up her left hand, she placed her right one on her heart.
“I, Victoria Lynn Stanfield, do solemnly promise to call my mommy if I need anything, anything at all.”
Sharon’s grinned, then chuckled.
Tori walked her mother to the door, hugged her as she expressed her gratitude, then leaned against it with a sigh as she heard Sharon’s car engine start. She had forced herself to not look at her computer while her mother was in the house. She now felt as if she would explode if she didn’t read what was written there.
She took a deep breath and t
hrew her shoulders back, yet her fingers trembled as she cleared the screen saver. Her eyes grew large and her face ashen as she gripped the edge of the desk, reading the words waiting for her.
As he sadly watched Victoria run away, Avery’s eyes again filled with tears. He didn’t understand how he could love someone who brought him such heartache. He leaned his head onto the dampness of Mankala’s mane, and the horse, too, dropped his head in sympathy.
Avery lifted his head skyward, asking, pleading, that she be sent back to him. He implored that he couldn’t live without her, that he loved her beyond all others. Was there no way to make her realize this?
Avery jerked his head around as he heard a rustle of leaves, the stealthy snapping of twigs beneath a foot. Alert against intruders, he pulled his gun. Mankala’s head lifted and he snorted with anxiety, sensing his master’s tenseness. Avery laid a quiet hand on the horse’s flank for silence. With gun readied, Avery watched as the tree branches parted and she stepped forward.
With a sigh of happiness, he dropped the gun and jumped from the horse.
“My darling, my Victoria.”
Once more looking heavenward, he whispered, “Thank you.”
As he gazed upon her, Avery knew he had never seen anyone as beautiful as she. Her dash through the woods had caused her hair to fall free and it tumbled about her shoulders, cascading to the middle of her back. How he longed to plunge his hands into the fieriness of those lovely curls. He could almost imagine the texture of her hair winding around his fingers, as she had wrapped herself around his heart.
He walked toward her, his heart beating faster with each slow step that closed the distance between them. He no longer heard the birds singing, or the wind dancing its way through the rustling leaves, or Mankala’s whinny of pleasure. All he could hear, all he could see, all he could fathom was Victoria.
Avery didn’t understand why their times together were so brief, why she seemed so frightened of him, or why each time he touched her she ran from him. He didn’t understand why he felt as if he didn’t even exist until she was with him. At this moment, he wasn’t going to waste time pondering any of that; he just wanted to cherish the sight, the smell, the feel of her.
As she moved nearer to him, Tori didn’t understand what was happening or why she kept having this same dream. Yet it felt more than a dream, more like an actual occurrence. She felt as if she could reach out and touch him, feel the texture of his skin, taste the smooth silk of his lips, hear his sigh if he were to lie beside her. Not only did it feel real, it felt right.
She ached with longing, to touch him, kiss him, hold him tightly against her, yet something undefined held her back. Her body felt charged with a painful current, and her body thrummed with electricity that only his contact could alleviate. The more she yearned to lie with him, the farther she pulled away. Not even she knew why she denied herself such passionate release, but Victoria only knew it couldn’t be allowed to progress any further; she couldn’t allow her emotions, her lust, free reign.
The ringing of the telephone broke Tori’s concentration. She vowed once again to remember to turn the ringer off the next time she was writing. It’s just that so few people called that she forgot, till one of the few never failed to call while she was busy. With a deep furrow between her eyebrows, she lifted the telephone receiver, her eyes never leaving the computer monitor, or the words she was still reading.
“Yes? Hello?” Her tone of voice was distracted, irritated.
Lydia’s throaty laugh echoed back to her.
“And good day to you, Luv. Are we in a cranky mood?”
“I don’t know how you are, but I may be a little on the cranky side, yes. You English… always using the ‘we’ in your conversation. This is a solitary emotion, dear.”
“Oh my, you are in a mood. Well, I might as well hang up and not bother to tell you about a handsome man who wants to take you to dinner, right?”
Tori’s eyes left the screen to stare at the mouthpiece of the phone as if she could see Lydia’s grinning face staring back at her in amusement.
“Are you talking about Roger Hart?”
“The one and only. It would seem that the very eligible, and terribly handsome, Mr. Hart was quite taken by you at dinner the other night. We went over his contract this morning and he just, oh-so-casually mentioned that he may call to invite you to dinner. I, of course, encouraged him to do so. I told him that it’d been months since our sweet little Tori had made love…”
“O my God, you didn’t!”
Lydia erupted into guffaws of laughter.
“I swear, Tori, you are so easy to get to. Of course I didn’t, you goose. When he made his comment that sounded more like a question, I asked him if he had your telephone number. He said he did, and wondered if you’d be interested. My answer was you wouldn’t have given him your number if you hadn’t been.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure why I did that. It was impulsive, and really unlike me. I rarely give my phone number to men I’ve just met. I guess I thought if you knew him, it would be okay.”
“Yes, darling, it’s okay. Now, be a good girl and answer the phone politely when he calls. Don’t be reading your own words on the computer and appear disinterested when he calls, like you did just now with me. ‘Bye, love. Talk to you soon.”
Tori hung up the phone, staring at the wall, wondering so many things about one Mr. Roger Hart.
* * *
The next afternoon, Tori was diligently working on the book. She had her hair up in a long, curly ponytail that hung out the back of her baseball cap. A small MP3 player sat beside her computer and sounds of Motown ricocheted off the walls of her office. She’d been making notes on paper for ideas on the ending of the novel when the phone rang. She’d picked it up and mumbled a greeting before realizing she still had the pencil stuck between her teeth. Knowing the person on the other end of the line couldn’t see her; Tori nevertheless blushed as she removed the damp pencil to lay it on the desk.
“Tori?” It was a resonant male voice that she didn’t immediately recognize.
“Yes?”
“Hi! This is Roger Hart. We met at your mother’s house for dinner a few nights ago?”
Unconsciously smoothing a stray lock of hair, she sat up straighter in her chair, pulling her eyes from the work in front of her.
“Of course, Roger, how are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I was calling to ask if you’d like to go to dinner sometime soon?”
“Dinner? Sure, that sounds great. When do you want to do this?”
He chuckled in her ear; the sound was pleasing.
“Well, I know this is bold, but I was hoping we could go tonight. That is, if you’re not busy, and if you don’t already have another date, another commitment. If you do, I’ll understand. I am being pretty presumptuous here, I know, but…”
Tori couldn’t help but stifle a giggle.
“Roger, it’s alright. Yes, tonight would be fine. I have no other commitment, and I just happen to have an opening on my rather busy schedule. Where are we going?”
“Good. That’s great. How about that new restaurant in Forrest Springs—Jerome’s?”
“Yeah, that would be just fine. I’ve heard a lot of good stuff about that place and I’ve been meaning to try it. What time? About seven?”
“Sure, that works for me. Now, I need directions to your house. I’m afraid if I ask Lydia, she will still be talking tomorrow.”
Tori laughed at the shared knowledge of their literary agent and gave him simple directions.
“Thanks Tori. I’ll see you at seven.”
Tori laced her fingers behind her head and leaned back. She was smiling into thin air until her chair flipped back and she landed unceremoniously on the floor in a tangle of red hair, flannel-plaid arms and denim-covered legs. Her Tennessee Volunteers baseball hat sat askew on her head. She was in such a good mood, she could only laugh.
She rose awkwardly, still grinning
.
“Hmm, wonder what one wears on a first date with a devilishly handsome man to an upscale restaurant? Ah yes, my new green blouse with black pants. I can wear that ring I bought at the boutique to go with the blouse. Yes!”
She only then realized she wasn’t excited, as much as nervous, about this date.
Steam rising like a dragon’s hot, angry hiss, the bathtub bubbled with fragrant scents. Tori sat on the side of the tub, humming her favorite song.
“Hmmm, Hmmm, where are you, with a love, oh so true…?”
She didn’t notice the darkening of a shadow in the corner behind her, or feel the heat of emotion that simmered there.
Chapter Eleven
Roger was nothing, if not punctual. Precisely at seven P.M. he was ringing Tori’s doorbell. He watched as her slim shadow approached the door, saw her hesitate on the other side, seeming to square her shoulders before she opened it. He pulled on his most dazzling smile so it would be the first thing she noticed. He’d been told his boyish face was disarming and his motives deceptive when he smiled this way.
As she stood there, incapable of realizing the effect she had on his libido, she caused him to inhale sharply, quickly, silently. Roger knew from previous research that the pupils of his eyes were becoming dilated in direct response to a stirring beneath his pants zipper.
God, how he wanted to take her right there, right then, without ceremony, without excuses. But abiding by society’s rules, he would wine and dine her, then approach this little matter later tonight.
“Tori, you look lovely, as always. Are you ready, or should I step in for a minute to wait?” He purposely forced a benign expression onto his face.
“No, that’s alright, Roger. I’m ready to go if you are.”
“Of course, Milady, as you wish.”
Tori smiled at his use of the verbiage in her own writing and stepped through the open door. Just as Roger was pulling it closed behind them, there was a sound much like a hoarse moan, or a groan of building anger. He quickly turned his head, peering back into the house, his mouth a round “O”. Tori placed her hand over his that still held the doorknob and gently pulled the door closed.
Through the Shadows Page 8
