Forever Spring

by Joan Hohl

  “Charles, please, calm yourself.” Judith moved to get up. “This upheaval isn’t good for you!”

  “I know.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t feel too well. I think I’ll lie down for a while.” Without waiting for a reaction, he strode from the room.

  Murmuring “Oh, dear!” Judith rushed after him. Jumping up, Randolf was right behind her.

  For long seconds, silence weighted the room. Paul broke it gently. “I’m sorry. I certainly didn’t mean—”

  Karen interrupted him. “It’s not your fault.”

  “No, it’s my fault.” Rand’s cheeks were pale.

  Karen’s tone became brisk. “No, Rand, it isn’t. There was no reason for your father to get worked up over this.” Her shoulders moved in a helpless shrug. “I don’t know why he was so upset, but then, I never did understand his sudden mood swings.”

  “Is Daddy okay, Mom?” Mark asked, blinking to stem the tears filling his eyes.

  Furious with Charles and silently condemning him for frightening his sons, Karen got up and circled the table. Standing between Rand and Mark, she hugged their trembling bodies close to her own. “I’m sure your dad is fine,” she murmured soothingly.

  “But, what if—” Rand’s voice failed, and he stared up at her fearfully. Before Karen could form words of reassurance, Paul responded to the question Rand could not force himself to ask.

  “If your father isn’t okay, we’ll drive him into Portland to see a doctor.”

  Rand turned to Paul. His hopeful yet fearful expression caused a wrenching pain in Karen’s chest. “You will, Mr. Vanzant? I mean, you will be here with Mom, drive Dad to see a doctor?”

  Paul’s serious expression was eased by a gentle, understanding smile. “Yes, Rand. I promise you I will be here.”

  Karen was caught between the urge to smile and the need to sigh. She also understood exactly what kind of reassurance Rand was seeking. Hovering on the edge of manhood, Rand needed to know that there would be another man in the house to take control if Charles suffered another attack.

  And she had actually believed she’d instilled in her sons the concept of equality between the sexes. Karen gave in to the sigh.

  With one child seeming satisfied, the other had to be heard from. His lower lip trembling, Mark gazed pleadingly at Karen. “Do we have to go back to school tomorrow, Mom?”

  “Yes.” Karen’s tone was clear, with a no-arguments firmness.

  “But what if...something happens?” A fresh surge of tears spilled onto Mark’s cheeks.

  “Then I’ll come and get you and bring you home.” Paul again answered for Karen. Then he made a suggestion that normally would have elicited surprised protests from Rand and Mark. “But for right now, if you want to feel useful, you could help your mother by clearing the table.”

  Karen was amazed, not only by his suggestion but by her admittedly pampered sons’ reaction to it. They nearly knocked her over in their haste to do his bidding.

  Telling herself she should feel angry or at least impatient with Paul for arrogantly taking control from her, Karen could not deny the feeling of relief that swept through her. In his steady, dependable tone of voice, Paul had relieved Rand’s and Mark’s anxiety and, to a great extent, her own. Karen felt weak with gratitude. At the same time, she felt a sharp twinge of curiosity. It was obvious from their acceptance of his words that both boys believed Paul and trusted him to make good on his promises. How, she wondered, had Paul managed to gain their trust in such a short period of time?

  Pondering the question, Karen moved to help with the cleaning up but went still as she remembered Mark telling them that Paul had fixed the basketball hoop after their walk on the beach. But was one walk on the beach enough to instill trust? she asked herself. An answer sprang into her mind immediately. Hadn’t she reacted with the same feeling of trust in Paul after a brief meeting on the beach? A frown tugging her eyebrows together, Karen raised her head to stare at him.

  “Something wrong?” Paul asked, his eyes darkening with concern.

  “No, not wrong.” Karen shook her head. “I’m just curious about what you and the kids talked about during your stroll on the beach.”

  A light of understanding and amusement relieved the darkness shadowing his eyes; a smile eased the tense lines around his mouth. “Heavy stuff,” he murmured, slanting a quick glance toward the kitchen to make sure the boys were beyond the reach of his low-pitched voice. “Life and sex and the difficulty of making the big step between the security of adolescence and the responsibility of manhood.”

  The traditional father-son discussion! Karen was struck speechless at the very idea. How many times had she asked Charles to initiate such a discussion with his sons? Karen didn’t have to search for an answer; she had first made the request of Charles when Rand had celebrated his thirteenth birthday more than two years ago. In his familiar, unconcerned way, Charles had laughed, called her old-fashioned and insisted the boys could very probably instruct him on the subject. Of course, it had been a cop-out for Charles. Karen hadn’t been in the least surprised; Charles had been copping out on everything serious all his adult life. But Paul was very obviously cut from much stronger cloth, Karen concluded—and not for the first time.

  “You don’t approve?”

  Realizing that she was probably scowling, Karen smiled at him. “It isn’t that I don’t approve.” She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “I’m just surprised that you’d bother, that’s all.”

  “Bother?” Paul repeated, giving her an odd look. “It wasn’t a bother. I enjoyed our conversation.” His smile was soft with reminiscence. “It’s been a long time since I engaged in that type of basic discussion.” He laughed. “Besides, it exercised my mind. Those kids of yours are very bright. They tossed some tough questions at me.”

  Parental pride flowed through Karen, warming her and easing the tension left over from the scene Charles had created. “They have their difficult moments but—” she smiled hesitantly as she raised her eyes to his “—they’re pretty good kids, aren’t they?” Karen wasn’t quite sure why his opinion was so important to her; she only knew it was.

  Paul’s answering smile glowed in his eyes before it reached his lips. “They are very good kids, Karen. You have every right to be proud of them.” His lips curved with heart-touching tenderness as he lifted his hand to her face.

  “Mom?” Rand’s call halted Paul’s fingers an inch from her cheek, and with a philosophical smile, he drew his hand away.

  “Yes?” Karen responded, strangely breathless.

  “The dishwasher’s loaded and running and everything’s cleaned up. Can me and Mark watch TV now?”

  Karen corrected his grammar automatically. “Can Mark and I.”

  “Aw, Mom!” Rand’s groan blended with Paul’s low chuckle. “Can we?”

  Without conscious thought, Karen looked at Paul with a silent plea for his opinion of the request. A flicker of surprise moved across his face and briefly widened his eyes, quickly followed by an expression of deep pleasure. Holding her gaze with his, he slowly nodded his head. Again without thought, Karen acted on his judgment.

  “Yes, you may,” she called, laughing as the boys took off like a shot, as if afraid she’d change her mind if they didn’t disappear from her sight immediately.

  Paul went still, his expression expectant; then he grinned. “Isn’t the silence wonderful?” he asked in a stage whisper.

  “Beautiful,” Karen breathed on a sigh.

  “Let’s escape.” Paul’s eyes gleamed with playfulness, and his grin broadened.

  He looked so much like a little boy up to mischief that Karen burst out laughing. “Escape!” she gasped. “To where?”

  “The beach?” One dark eyebrow arched rakishly. “But it’s freezing outside!”

  The slanting glance he gave her had more the look of the devil than any little boy Karen had ever known. “Yes, but consider the fun we could have keeping each other warm.”


  Fun! Try as she might, Karen couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something just for the fun of it. And if she was honest with herself, she had to ad-mit that his suggestion had appeal, a lot of appeal. Yet she hesitated, telling herself she really shouldn’t leave the house. The boys might need her for something. She had guests. Charles was obviously not feeling well. No, she really shouldn’t leave the house. But...Karen looked into Paul’s eyes and was lost.

  “I’d love a breath of fresh air.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth before Paul grasped her hand and took off down the hall to the closet. Cautioning her to be quiet by placing one finger across his lips, he carefully removed their jackets. After helping her with hers, he urged her toward the back door, pulling his jacket on as he walked. A loud sigh of relief whooshed through his lips as he shut the door behind them.

  “Ah, alone at last,” he said teasingly, reaching for her hand. “I was beginning to think I’d have to kidnap you to have a private conversation.”

  Laughing spontaneously, Karen slid her hand into his and felt a thrill as he entwined her fingers in his. “Where would you kidnap me to?” she asked, feeling suddenly lighthearted and young again. “I hope someplace decadent and exotic,” she added before he could respond.

  “Decadent and exotic, hmm?” Paul murmured. He drew her with him as he stepped off the veranda. “I’ll have to think about that.” His expression somber, contemplative, he strolled onto the beach.

  Though cold, the night was still. Instead of their more usual thundering rush to crash into the beach, the ocean waves swelled gently before caressing the shore with a murmured swish. “Take your time,” Karen said, tilting her head back to gaze up at the brilliance of millions of stars and one incredibly beautiful pale yellow moon. “What a gorgeous night!” she whispered in an awed tone. “Just look at that sky.”

  Lifting his head, Paul stared at the heavens a moment before transferring his gaze to her face. “I’d rather look at you.” Untwining their fingers, he released her hand to bring his arm up and around her shoulders, drawing her body close to the warmth of his. Lowering his head, Paul brushed his lips over her ear. “You’re beautiful, Karen,” he murmured. “And much more inspiring to me than the light of trillions of stars.”

  Excitement charged through Karen, stealing hef breath, clouding her senses. Need nipped at the heels of excitement, the need to hold him, touch him, taste him. Her lips parted with eager anticipation as he drew his mouth in a tantalizing line to hers.

  “Oh, Paul.” Her voice was a whisper that misted his lips.

  “Say it again.” With maddening slowness, he brushed his lips back and forth over hers. “I want to hear you say my name again.”

  “Paul.”

  “Lord, Karen, I missed you unbearably.” Raising his other arm, he crushed her willing body to his. “I thought I’d go crazy with wanting you while we were apart,” he groaned, taking her mouth fiercely.

  His kiss was hard, impatient, fiery and wonderful. Curling her arms around his neck, Karen clung to him, taking everything from him, giving everything to him. Had she actually convinced herself she could continue to exist without ever again experiencing the spi-raling heat and excitement only Paul could generate inside her? she asked herself muzzily, stroking his teasing tongue with her own. The mere thought of never again knowing the safety of his embrace, feeling the power of his kiss, sent a wave of cold fear through her, and her mouth became desperate with hunger.

  Paul’s hands moved restlessly over Karen’s bulky jacket, searching for the soft woman beneath the heavy material. He muttered a curse as he drew his lips from hers to explore her face. “I want to undress you,” he murmured, skimming his lips over her closed eyelids. “I need to feel you, all of you, against me.”

  “Yes,” Karen sighed. Then reality intruded. “Paul, we can’t!” she cried.

  “I know.” His breath shuddered from his body as he rested his forehead against hers. “I know.”

  They stood clasping one another, silently comforting each other until the cold penetrated their jackets to chill their bodies. Paul dropped his arms and stepped back when Karen shivered involuntarily.

  “You’re freezing,” he said, moving away from her. “I must take you inside.”

  Although Karen knew he was right, she held out against reason. “But we didn’t have our conversation.”

  “No?” Paul asked with wry amusement. “I thought we said a great deal.” Taking her hand in his, he started for the house. They were almost to the veranda steps before he spoke again. “Randolf tells me that he and Judith are driving the kids back to school tomorrow.”

  “Yes. Then they’ll go on to Boston.” Karen glanced at him. “Why?”

  Paul answered with a question. “Charles will be staying here?”

  Karen lowered her gaze to the veranda steps. “Yes. At least until after the Christmas holidays.”

  “Then so will I.” Paul’s voice was soft, but steely with determination.

  “You knew him before, didn’t you?”

  Monday mornings had never been Karen’s best times and being interrogated by a moody ex-husband on a Monday morning following a tiring holiday was the absolute pits. Gritting her teeth, Karen slowly turned away from the coffee maker to face Charles.

  His expression stormy, his lips flattened into a thin line of disapproval, Charles glared at her from the doorway.

  “Him?” Karen asked, being deliberately obtuse. “Vanzant.” Not unlike a toddler in a fit of temper, Charles stomped to the table and dropped onto a chair. “You knew him before he arrived here Friday afternoon, didn’t you?”

  Karen considered denial or evasion for a moment but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. “Yes, 1 met Paul over a month ago,” she replied quietly.

  “How did you meet him?” he asked with sharp suspicion.

  Karen arched her eyebrows at his persistence but again answered honestly. “He was looking for a room. Calvin Muthard sent him here.”

  “But hadn’t you closed the bed-and-breakfast by then?” Charles didn’t attempt to hide his annoyance; he had never approved of her opening the house to paying guests.

  “Yes.” A hint of her thinning patience tightened her tone; Charles chose to ignore.

  “You let him stay here even though you had closed the house for the season?”

  “That’s right.”

  Anger flushing his cheeks, Charles studied her narrowly. When he spoke again, his voice was low and not at all pleasant. “You were lovers, weren’t you?” Karen’s patience snapped, and so did she. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Which means you were,” Charles snapped back. “Weren’t you?”

  ; ^“Yes, we were.” The cool, controlled response came not from Karen but from the man standing in the doorway to the veranda. “So what?” Paul added, sauntering into the room.

  The color deepened in Charles’s cheeks, indicating his mounting anger. “You’re intruding on a private conversation, Vanzant,” Charles said nastily.

  “Rude of me, I know,” Paul drawled, crossing the room to stand beside Karen. “But since I’m directly involved, I think I’ll continue to intrude.”

  As irritated as Karen was by Charles’s audacity in presuming to question her about her private life, Karen felt a jolt of alarm as his breathing increased and his color became mottled. She took a hesitant step toward him. “Charles, are you feeling all right?” Charles glared at her. “No, I’m not all right.” His chest heaved as he inhaled swiftly. “I’d hoped the weekend would be good for me, but I guess it was too much too soon.” A thoughtful, almost crafty expression flickered over his face. His voice dwindled to a sigh. “I’m tired.”

  Really alarmed, Karen rushed to his side. “Do you have any pain?” Her voice was strained by a concern that was obvious to both men. Karen was too busy taking Charles’s pulse to notice the smirk of satisfaction he aimed at Paul

  “No—” he sighed heavily “—well, just
a twinge.” Karen’s throat closed. What in the world would she do if Charles suffered another attack right in her kitchen? In an unconsciously revealing move, she turned to Paul. “Will you drive us to the hospital in Portland?”

  “Certainly,” Paul replied promptly.

  “I don’t think it’s necessary.” Charles’s voice overlapped Paul’s. “At least not yet,” he added when he noticed the mildly skeptical look on Paul’s face. “It’s gone now. I think I just need some peace and quiet for a few days.”

  “Are you positive?” Karen asked anxiously. “Yes,” he insisted weakly. “I just need some rest.” The tightness in Karen’s throat eased as she saw the color recede from his cheeks. She exhaled a sigh of relief. “Can I get you something?”

  “I could drink a cup of decaffeinated coffee,” he said tiredly. “If you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not!” Karen whirled around to get the coffee, and missed the smug look Charles leveled at Paul.

  That morning set the pattern for the two weeks that followed, for Charles literally kept Karen on the run. He seldom complained, but then he didn’t have to complain. All Charles had to do to get Karen’s undivided attention was grimace faintly and moan softly. Karen rarely found more than a few moments to be alone with Paul, and so she didn’t notice his expression growing harder and more stern with each passing day.

  To Karen’s relief, Charles refrained from mentioning her relationship with Paul. In fact, except for the occasional periods when he displayed discomfort, Charles couldn’t have been more charming or easier to get along with. His good mood ended with a burst of childish temper at the beginning of the second week of December.

  Before they had left Boston, Dr. Rayburn had made arrangements for Charles to consult with a specialist in Portland. Karen had driven Charles into Portland for his first appointment the second week of November. At that time, the doctor had been satisfied with

  Charles’s progress and had said he would like to see him in a month. Karen set the fuse to Charles’s temper by suggesting Paul drive them into Portland so that Charles could keep his appointment.

  “Isn’t it enough that I have to bear sharing this house with your lover?” Charles shouted at her. “I will be damned if I’ll let you coop me up in a car with him!”