“I was remembering the day I came,” he said.
She searched his eyes. “A lot has changed since then.”
“Yes.” He started toward her. The shadows in the dim interior seemed to swallow her up.
Her expression became wary and troubled. “Are you sorry?”
“No. What about you, Jessie?”
She lifted her chin. “No, I’m not sorry.”
Ben noticed she’d drawn the line at actually admitting she was happy. He understood her reticence. Happiness was something magical—intended for someone else; something he’d left behind in another life. So far, it had eluded him. Each hour with Jessie was special—stolen moments to be captured before fate played another joke. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
Ben wasn’t surprised when she hastily changed the subject.
“I forgot they’d predicted rain.” She glanced past him, sounding very young and unsure of herself again.
But Jessie had never been that young. He imagined she’d had to grow up fast after her mother had walked out. Jessie fascinated him with her changeable moods. She often stunned him with acts of courage and never flinched when it came to being honest and direct. But she was a coward when it came to dealing with her own emotions. At first it had irritated him; now he found it endearing. One of these days, they were going to have a long discussion on the subject, but not now.
With the rain at his back, he narrowed the gap between them. The small wooden building was windowless. Rain beat down on the tin roof overhead. The air was stifling.
Hot.
“It looks as if we’ll have to wait it out.” She shifted uneasily when he came close.
“Mmm, looks like.” He brushed the damp tendrils of fine hair from her cheek, then framed her face with both hands. With satisfaction, he watched her eyes cloud with passion. His mouth slowly descended. She arched against him and sucked in a breath as she felt the hard evidence of his arousal.
At her soft sensuous moan of surrender, he murmured, “In the meantime, where were we?”
They made love before going home.
For the remainder of the day, Jessie tried to dismiss troubling thoughts. No amount of distraction could keep her from the truth. Her father hadn’t wasted time on displays of affection; nevertheless, she’d believed in his basic goodness. Now, she couldn’t. His treatment of her mother was hard to forgive. He’d allowed pride and bitterness to rule him.
At dinner when Ben tried to talk to her, Jessie didn’t hear a word he said. After the meal, the men lingered over coffee. She was glad she didn’t have to be alone with Ben. Why should she invest more emotion in a marriage that wouldn’t last?
Ben had never hinted at love. Lately, she’d felt his renewed restlessness. Since Jared’s return, the workers didn’t know who was boss. Her father’s interference didn’t help the situation. With all the family tension, Ben was probably itching to leave. In a way, she couldn’t blame him, but she did. Why did everyone want to leave? Why?
Ben looked at her closed expression and felt his frustration building. He felt left out, as if the Carlisles were closing ranks on him.
“What time is that meeting with the authorities in town tomorrow?” Jared asked, giving Ben an assessing look.
“First thing in the morning,” Ben replied, feeling an undercurrent of tension. He knew something was wrong. But what? Ira wasn’t saying much. Jared and Jessie had been closemouthed at dinner. Actually, Jessie looked as if she’d received a knockout punch.
“What do you think will happen?” Jessie asked coming into the conversation. She’d hardly eaten a thing, Ben noticed. There were pale violet shadows under her eyes. She looked fragile. In need of protection.
Ben wished she would open up to him. “Let’s wait and see.”
Ira put an end to the strained meal. “There’s going to be a frost.” He rose from his chair as if his bones ached.
The summer weather in northern Maine was unpredictable. Days were hot and humid. At night, the temperature dipped low. Jessie looked out the window into the growing darkness.
“I should cover the garden,” she murmured.
“I’ll help.” Ben wanted to offer more. Right then, she seemed unapproachable.
Jessie glanced at him, a question in her eyes. “Thank you,” was all she said, but he had a feeling his offer of assistance had somehow surprised her.
Didn’t she realize he cared? He would grasp any excuse to be alone with her, away from her father and brother. He felt married to Stone’s End and the entire Carlisle clan, when all he wanted was Jessie. He wanted her with every heartbeat, every aching moment of the day or night. She eased his loneliness and restlessness; now he was lonely without her. She was always on his mind, and he suspected she always would be. It was a damnable situation. He wasn’t sure he liked it.
“Just tell me what to do.” He wished it were that simple. How could he get through to Jessie?
She was wearing the soft raspberry-pink sweater he’d given her recently—at least that was some concession, he noted. She was his wife; he wanted her to have nice things, but he had to be wary of wounding her prickly Yankee pride. Yes, she had her pride, and so did he. From where he stood, knuckling under to Ira for the rest of his life was beginning to look highly unlikely. Jessie would have to choose.
When she grabbed her denim jacket, Ben grabbed his and followed her out the back door. He drew a deep breath of fresh air. Despite all the talk about frost, it was colder than he’d expected. A pale moon rode the banked clouds.
“Who ever heard of a summer frost?” he said absently.
She threw him a surprised look, then smiled. “Anyone who lives this far north.”
He smiled back. “Are you casting aspersions on my Southern roots, ma’am?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“It’s freezing.” He buttoned his jacket against the cold snap. “You’d like Virginia, Jessie. There are green hills, mountains and valleys just like this—only somebody remembered to turn on the heat.”
She looked away.
He sighed.
For the next hour or so, Jessie insisted on taking every precaution to protect her large vegetable garden from frost. Ben helped her spread cotton sheets over the exposed plants and anchored the corners with rocks. The moon was full and bright, and the air had a definite nip to it.
When they finished the last row of tomato plants, Ben looked at their handiwork and grinned at the patchwork of colorful pastel sheets, a sight he wouldn’t have missed.
They were standing at opposite ends of a long row. And suddenly it seemed too far to Ben. He went to her, fighting the urge to run before she fled. He sensed something had hurt her. He wasn’t sure how or why he knew, but he did.
He drew her close, his voice husky. “Now that we’ve tucked in the garden, let’s go to bed.” He kissed her.
It was meant to be a short kiss, but somehow things got out of control. With a small moan, she opened her mouth. There was hopelessness, not surrender, in the way she kissed him back. Lately, despite the strain in their relationship, or perhaps because of it, their lovemaking had taken on a frenzied quality.
The sex was great, but it left him feeling uneasy, dissatisfied, and wanting more. He wanted the part of Jessie she was holding back—her heart.
His lips roamed her face. He tasted the salty dampness on her cheek—she was crying. Shocked, he held her away and stared into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She turned her face into his shoulder. “Nothing.”
“Jessie, tell me.”
Perhaps his tone convinced her he wouldn’t accept an evasion. She told him about her brother, and father, and last of all about her mother. It was all very tragic, an alltoo-familiar story of broken lives, parents warring against each other, using their children as ammunition. No matter how much he wished he could make a difference, he couldn’t wipe away her past, any more than she could his. But if they could start over, together…
He didn�
��t complete the thought. Perhaps he was expecting too much. “I’m sorry, Jessie,” he whispered.
She nodded. “I just wish—” She swallowed hard. “I just wish I remembered the red tricycle.”
Oh, God. He winced as her pain ripped through him— the pain of that small, lost, lonely child. What a sad legacy of heartache Avis and Ira had left their children. He hugged her close, binding her to him physically. “I’m just so damn sorry, Jessie. I wish there was more I could say.”
She raised her head. “Make love to me.”
“Jessie,” he groaned.
“Please.”
Very gently, he framed her face with his hands and looked at her, feeling a wealth of tenderness for this woman…this woman who ripped his heart to shreds with her baggy pants, muddy boots and soft peach dresses. Her courage left him in awe, and her vulnerability made her real and touchable. At that moment, he’d never loved her more. He could no longer evade the knowledge; he’d loved her for a long, long time. It felt like forever.
They barely made it to their room to bed. That night there were few preliminaries to their lovemaking. Ben struggled out of his jeans while she slipped out of hers.
He caught his breath as the moon filtered into the room and limned her body with a fine delicacy. For a moment, he just looked at her. She was so feminine, her breasts perfect and tipped with mauve. Her legs were long, slender, graceful. Her body was tanned, sleek and smooth, toned with the health of a vigorous life-style.
She shivered. “Oh, it’s cold.”
“Let me warm you.”
She blushed at the husky note in his voice. He gathered her against him and felt her soft sigh of pleasure. Her breasts peaked against his chest. He groaned at the aching pleasure. She was just as aroused; and as they sank onto the bed, she wrapped around him and drew him into her heat.
The suddenness of it stopped him, but then he felt her move and felt his own body catch her rhythm. A fierce need took him in its grip. He couldn’t hold back for long. When he felt her climax, he surged against her, matching her pleasure. Suddenly, that sense of urgency was gone. He was going to have time with Jessie. He was going to take time, day by day…if she would have him. He hadn’t thought about a future for so long; it felt strange, unmapped.
He loved her—mind, heart, body. Indivisibly. Long moments stretched into an exquisite satiation of the senses. Nothing existed for him but this bed, this room, this woman.
Chapter Fifteen
At midnight, an explosion rocked the farmhouse.
Ben thought he was dreaming. Then he felt Jessie stir against him and heard the shouts. It wasn’t a nightmare. This was real. Jared shouted through the door, “It’s the Pierce place! I can see the flames from my room.”
Ben was out of bed, reaching for his jeans. Jessie scrambled out behind him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his senses alert to her every move.
“I’m going with you.” She reached for her jeans.
“No, you’re not I don’t want you anywhere near that place.” She pulled a sweatshirt over her head. “Jessie.” His mouth clamped down at the stubborn set of her chin. He was wasting his breath arguing with her. He dragged her close and kissed her hard. “Be careful.” He stared into her eyes. They were burnished silver, like precious antique coins. Everything she meant to him came together in that moment. If he lost her, he couldn’t go on living. The knowledge struck him with force.
He didn’t have time to analyze the feeling; perhaps it didn’t need examining. It had become part of him, just as Jessie had. “Promise you’ll stay out of danger.” His hands tightened. “Promise me.” Her eyes rounded at the raw note of passion in his voice. He did nothing to disguise it. Silently, she nodded.
The truck horn sounded impatient. Jared was driving. “It looks bad,” he said when they jumped in.
The truck bounced down the road to the Pierces’. Another explosion lit the night. By the time they arrived, all hell had broken loose. Or so it seemed to Ben. Flames poured from the ruins of the camp store. For a moment, he froze in terror.
Grief struck him, the acid taste of fear, the clutch of dread. He was in a jungle and his plane was a wreckage leaking gas. He could smell it. Gas. Fire. The women and the children. The children. “Oh, God.”
Jessie touched his arm. “Ben.”
Coming out of an endless dream, Ben grasped her hand and felt the terror recede. He took a breath and barked the order, “Turn the headlights on—over there!”
Ramon came running. “A propane tank exploded. The store was closed, no one was inside when it blew.”
Ben checked a broken gas line. Old and corroded, it had probably burst under pressure with added cold-weather demand. “Where’s the water supply? Fire extinguishers?”
Ramon stared back helplessly. “The water pump broke.”
“Hell! The whole place could blow any minute.”
Drew arrived. One of the men went for him and landed several punches. He didn’t fight back. By the time his attacker was dragged away, Drew lay on the ground.
Jessie ran to him. “Are you all right?”
Drew stirred. “God, what a mess! Is anyone hurt?”
“Jessie!” Ben roared, from a short distance.
Drew winced. “I think he wants you.”
By now, an ambulance and more rescuers had arrived from town. Leaving Drew in capable hands, Jessie returned to Ben.
“I thought I told you to stay close.” During the next frantic moments, he kept her by his side, afraid to lose her in the confusion. Black smoke billowed from the camp. Like a pall, ashes and cinder settled, covering everything.
The air was thick and acrid. Just when Ben thought everyone was safe, Rita Morales cried out, “Miguel! jDios mio! He went back to get the cat!” She ran back toward the campsites.
Swallowing dread, Ben started after her.
Jessie clutched at his arm and physically tried to hold him. “You can’t go in there.” Her heart squeezed in anguish at the thought of him entering that inferno. She loved him. She had to tell him. “Wait, the fire trucks will be here.”
“There isn’t time.” His eyes were haunted. She felt his muscles tighten as he drew on some inner strength he’d buried along with his men. She knew all about his worst fear.
Losing Ben had become her worst fear. Why hadn’t she told him before now? Why had she stored all her love inside?
Flames licked at the grassy edge of the compound. The place was going to blow. Jessie knew Ben needed to do this for his own salvation. Maybe he couldn’t reach Rita Morales and her son in time, but he had to try.
“Be careful.” Her words released him.
Ben stared into her eyes for one long moment, knowing this might be the last time. He kissed her hard. Then, he walked away from her. In the next fiery instant, a dazzling orange light filled his vision. Another explosion! A blast of heat slammed his body backward.
He landed faceup on the ground. Overhead, the sky was impenetrable. Get up. He couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. It hurt too much to live, to be a survivor. He recalled a time in a sweltering jungle when his prayers for a merciful release went unanswered. The memory had grown distant. Jessie. She was his reason for living.
As Ben struggled to his feet, he felt a searing pain. A flying piece of metal had struck his arm. But then a child’s scream pierced his own pain. He ran toward the frantic sound. Tearing open a door, he found the boy inside. The cat hissed at Ben.
Ben grabbed a blanket and bundled them both inside. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you.” The child wrapped his arms around his throat. “Hold on.” Ben’s chest felt tight. He ran.
His eyes teared. Thick black smoke filled his vision. Another series of explosions went off. Windows burst outward in splinters. Flying glass cut his face. Flames darted right and left. He couldn’t see. Then, he heard it…calling to him.
Shielding the child, he homed in on Jessie’s voice.
“Ben, Ben…Oh, thank
God.” Jessie reached for him with all her strength. Someone reached for Miguel. “You’re safe,” she sobbed against his chest. “It’s over.”
“Yes, it’s over,” he said huskily.
She glanced up at the new note of strength in his voice. She met his eyes. The shadows were gone. She smiled through her tears. “You might need a few stitches.” Pressing a gauze to his cheek where blood seeped from several cuts, she swallowed hard.
Her heart felt huge, as if it might burst any moment with relief and pride. He’d come through the fire. Somehow, she knew the nightmares were behind him. What lay ahead? She thought of their child. She had to tell him— soon. She felt so much—love and hope and joy; all the things she’d never dared feel before.
As dawn broke, the distant sky grew brighter. The fire trucks arrived, some with tanks of water drained from the pond. The men turned hoses on the flames.
Cal Pierce pointed to the orange glow in the sky. “The wind’s shifted. The fire’s spreading.”
It was headed west, toward Stone’s End.
Jessie whispered, “Dad.”
The drive home felt interminable. Despite feelings of dread, Jessie noticed Jared’s face was torn with emotion. He felt things deeply—anger, joy, sorrow. At that moment, she felt older than her brother. She squeezed his hand. “He’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.” His voice broke. In that taut moment when time seemed suspended, she felt closer to Jared than she had in years. She glanced up and found Ben watching her.
Along the narrow winding road, only patches of sky were visible. Like fireworks, sparks flew from tree to tree. A tall spindly pine burst into flame right before her eyes.
When the truck turned into Stone’s End, her father was standing in the barnyard in his pajamas and robe. He’d let the cows out of the barn. Narrowly missing one, the truck screeched to a stop. Jessie jumped out and threw her arms around her father. “I was so worried about you.”
He patted her back awkwardly. “Jessie, I’m okay. Let’s get these animals out of the barn.”
Ben absorbed the exchange. Despite all their differences, he felt a surge of affection at the sight of the mettlesome old man in striped pajamas. He didn’t have time to linger on the thought.
Just Jessie Page 21
