Cross My Heart

by Phyllis Halldorson

"Whatever you want," he said, sounding perplexed. "Don't you like diamonds?"

  "I've never had one, but they seem so…so cold, somehow."

  Harold had removed another velvet tray from his briefcase, and he opened it to reveal a mixture of green, red, blue and amber jewels.

  Elyse caught her breath. "Oh, they're exquisite!"

  One ring in particular caught her eye. It was a solitary brilliant green gem that almost exactly matched the color of Clint's eyes. She picked it up and held it to the light. It seemed nearly alive in its warm sparkling beauty, and she knew this was the one she wanted.

  She held it out to Harold. "Is this one terribly expensive?"

  Clint answered. "As long as you don't want a whole tray full of them, cost is no object. Do you like that one?"

  "I love it," she said simply. "It almost breathes."

  The jeweller smiled. "That's a premier quality emerald. An excellent choice. Would you like to try it on?"

  Wordlessly she slid the ring onto her fourth finger, left hand, and it fit as if it had been sized for her. It occurred to her that it wasn't a very practical ring—the stone was so large and prominently set that it would probably catch on everything—but all her life she'd been practical. This time she was going to take what she wanted, and to hell with the consequences.

  As she pulled the ring off she realized she was doing the same thing by marrying Clint. Taking what she wanted, and to hell with the consequences. She'd deal with the future as it came along.

  When the transaction was concluded, Harold left, and Clint held the ring. He put his arms around Elyse and kissed her, then took her left hand in his and slid the ring on her finger. "From this day forward, for better or for worse," he said.

  She choked back tears of happiness as he gathered her close and held her.

  When she was sure she could talk around the lump in her throat she pulled back to look at him and said, "I didn't know jewelers made house calls."

  He chuckled. "Usually they don't, but we've done business with Harold for years. I explained that I didn't really have the time to bring you into the store, and also that we didn't want—"

  He stopped talking and a look of chagrin crossed his face.

  She waited for him to continue, but when he didn't she said, "Yes? We didn't want what?"

  He didn't answer, but led her over to the couch where they sat down side by side. "Honey," he said, not looking directly at her. "Would you mind if we postponed announcing our engagement until after the election next month?"

  Elyse was startled, but she managed to keep it from sounding in her voice. "I suppose not, if you think it's best. I know you said you didn't want to get married right away, but is there some reason we should keep our plans a secret?"

  He nodded. "If we wait until the election is over and things settle down we can do it properly. You haven't met any of my family yet except Paul. I don't want them to learn about the woman who's going to be my wife through a hurried phone call or, worse, from the newspapers. Besides, we don't want to steal the spotlight from Liz and Paul. Next week, after they're married, I'll write to my parents and two sisters and tell them about us. Then we'll call and talk to them. We'll set a date for an engagement party and insist they all come home for it."

  Everything he said made sense. Elyse could find no fault in it, and she told herself she was glad he was the type of man to be concerned about his family's feelings.

  She cuddled against him and said, "That sounds fine. I'm really looking forward to meeting your parents."

  He put his arms around her. "I knew you'd understand." He nibbled her earlobe. "There's just one more thing."

  Elyse tensed in spite of her efforts not to. "Oh?"

  "The ring," he said carefully. "When we're in public, could you wear it on your right hand? Otherwise it will cause a lot of speculation."

  A cold wave of apprehension swept over her, and it was all she could do not to shiver. She pulled out of his embrace and moved away. "Clint, does this have anything to do with Janey?"

  He looked genuinely surprised. "Janey?"

  "Yes. Is the fact that I have an illegitimate child going to cause problems for you politically? Are you so anxious to postpone acknowledging us until later because we could damage your chances of getting reelected?"

  She stood and started to move around the room. "If that's it, then we can forget the whole thing right now. I won't allow your career to be ruined because of me, but neither will I let my daughter and I be hidden in hopes that none of your constituents will notice us."

  Clint sprang off the sofa and glared at her. "Sweet Lord, woman, is that what you think of me?" he bellowed. "Do you honestly believe I give a damn what people think about my private life? How can you say you love me and in the next breath accuse me of being such a creep?"

  He clutched her by the upper arms, and his fingers were like claws digging into her flesh. She'd never seen him so furious. "I admit you haven't known me long," he said, and she could see the effort he was making to calm down, "but have I ever indicated in any way that I thought you were less than respectable? Or that I considered Janey a bastard and therefore unworthy to be my daughter?"

  Elyse gaped at him, totally unable to respond in her astonishment at his use of those ugly words. "What have I done to give you such a low opinion of me?" he continued. "I love Janey almost as much as I love you, and it never even entered my mind that marrying you and adopting her might lose me a few votes. The scarlet A went out of vogue a long time ago, and I don't want the support of anyone who has a mind to bring it back."

  He let go of her so suddenly she almost lost her balance as he strode across the room to pick up a telephone. The action released her stunned senses, and she hurried after him. "Clint, what are you going to do?"

  She was trembling, and her knees threatened to buckle as she grabbed at the arm he was using to dial.

  He jerked away from her and his features were stony. "I'm calling my parents to tell them about our engagement, and then I'm going to get in touch with the news media. By tomorrow you'll have all the publicity you could ever hope for."

  Elyse felt sick as she jammed her hand on the dial. "No! Listen to me. I didn't mean—"

  He put the phone back in the cradle, and suddenly all the rage drained out of him. He turned to look at her, and her heart melted at the hopelessness mirrored on his face. "I think you'd better decide just what you mean, Elyse," he said in a voice devoid of emotion. "First you indicated you wanted to make love, then pushed me away when I tried. Then you came to me and apologized, but when I asked you to marry me you said you couldn't until I told you about Dinah. I did that, and you said you wouldn't marry me because of what I'd told you, and walked out. Now you've agreed to marry me, but you accuse me of being a son of a bitch."

  He walked away from her and stood facing the fireplace. "I'm not going to put myself through much more of this. I don't pretend to be perfect, but I do try to be honorable. If you can't trust me, if you're always going to misunderstand my motives, I don't see much future for us."

  His words were like whips lashing at her. He was right. She'd never behaved so irrationally as she had since she'd met and fallen in love with Clint. Just minutes ago she'd analyzed his reasons for wanting to postpone announcing their engagement and found them sound. Seconds later she'd accused him of subterfuge. She was being childish, and she didn't blame him for pulling back, for wondering if he wanted to marry her after all.

  The thought was more than she could bear, and she approached him slowly with her eyes downcast. She stopped in front of him and looked up into his white, weary face. "I'm sorry," she said brokenly. "You're right. I've been behaving like a spoiled child. I've thrown a tantrum every time things haven't gone just exactly the way I wanted them to, and I don't blame you for being disgusted with me."

  She looked down at the ring on her finger and discovered she was twisting it with the fingers of her other hand. "If you want the ring back I'll understand, but Clin
t—" her voice broke, and she had to take a deep breath before she could go on "—don't ever think I don't love you."

  She laced her fingers together and looked into the unlit fireplace. "I guess it's because I love you so much that I panic when you show signs of being… less involved… than I am. Of having a life apart from me."

  He moved as if to protest, but she looked up and shook her head. "No, please, let me finish. That wasn't a complaint. You're older than I am, you've been an adult longer than I have and you have a much more complicated life than I do. It will take me a while to fit in. I don't want to smother you with my love."

  She slowly slid the glittering emerald off her finger and held it out to him. "Here," she said, and again her voice broke. "Maybe we should think about this before we make a firm commitment."

  There was a heavy pressure in her chest, and she found it difficult to breathe. Could this be what it feels like when your heart breaks?

  Clint ignored her outstretched hand with the ring and took her in his arms. "I don't want the ring," he said in a gravelly tone. "I want you."

  With a sob Elyse clutched the gem and put her arms around his neck as she snuggled against him. She tried to tell him with her pliable and willing body how sorry she was and how much she loved him, but although he held her close, the passion in him had died and could not, or would not, be rekindled.

  A few minutes later he took her home.

  Elyse didn't hear from Clint again until after eleven on the following night, Thursday, when the phone rang. "I'm sorry for calling so late, sweetheart," he said, "but I've been chasing my tail all day. How are you?"

  Elyse's relief at hearing from him was all the greater because he didn't sound angry anymore. "It's all right, Clint, I was hoping you'd call. And I'm fine. A little tired. I didn't sleep much last night."

  "Neither did I," he said, and there was a catch in his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blow up the way I did."

  "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to be so silly." Her voice softened. "I love you, Clint."

  "I love you, too," he said tenderly. "I just got off the phone with my dad and mom. I told them I'd fallen in love with the sweetest, most beautiful lady in all of California and that we're going to be married very soon."

  Elyse felt a stab of guilt. "Oh, Clint," she said, "I'm sorry you've done that. It wasn't necessary—really. I know you didn't want to tell them that way."

  "I was being stubborn," he said grimly. "I didn't even think how it would sound to you when I asked that we postpone the announcement. My reticence had nothing whatsoever to do with Janey. I never think of her as anything but your beautiful and adorable daughter, who very soon will be mine, too. My parents were delighted, and they're anxious to meet the two of you."

  But a few minutes later Clint frowned as he hung up. What he'd told Elyse wasn't exactly true. His parents had not been delighted. Especially when they'd found out Elyse had a child but had never been married.

  His mother had seemed reserved, but his father had reacted as Clint had known he would. He'd fumed and blustered and predicted that marrying a woman with an illegitimate child would cost Clint his political career. It had turned into a shouting match between the two men until Grace Sterling had intervened in a three-way conversation and calmed them both down.

  Clint was still furious with his dad, but he could understand his position. Burton Sterling had started his career in the 1930s, when having a child out of wedlock was considered moral turpitude and a man whose wife or daughter had done such a thing had little chance of being elected to public office. At age seventy-five he'd never been able to adjust his way of thinking to embrace the "new morality".

  He wasn't vindictive. He wouldn't condemn Elyse. But neither would he be persuaded that she wasn't a detriment to Clint's career. Fortunately Clint's father was a gentleman of the old school, and he'd never intentionally let Elyse know he objected to his son marrying her.

  Elyse didn't see Clint again until he and Paul came to pick up Elyse and Liz for the trip to Lake Tahoe early Saturday morning, Paul and Liz's wedding day. Both men looked smashing in their dark suits, and each whistled appreciatively as he caught sight of his lady.

  Clint led Elyse into the doll shop, where they could have a little privacy, and clasped her in his arms as he ravaged her willing mouth. "It seems like three weeks instead of three days since I last saw you," he murmured, burrowing his lips into the side of her neck.

  It had seemed that way to her, too, and she caressed his ear with her tongue as she told him so.

  He shivered with pleasure and encouraged her by stroking the sides of her breasts. "I wish now that we were getting married today, too," he said. "I don't know what I was thinking of when I insisted on waiting. Would you consider making this a double wedding, after all?"

  Her first inclination was to say yes, yes, yes! But she quickly stifled the impulse. He was male and she aroused him and he was impatient to take her to bed. She was just as impatient as he, but they'd make love tonight whether they got married this afternoon or not. There was no need to rush the vows, and he'd been emphatic about wanting to wait.

  She'd let him set the date for both the announcement and the wedding, but not until after the election. He must never look back and wonder if he'd been coerced into a marriage he didn't really want.

  "No, Clint," she said firmly. "I want our wedding day to be special and all ours. Also, I want Janey to be there, and I've already taken her to her grandparents to spend this weekend."

  "Her grandparents? I didn't know she had any."

  "Jerry's folks. They have an orchard in the apple hill area. They don't see Janey nearly as often as they'd like, and I wouldn't go back on my word to let them have her for the next two days."

  He sighed. "Okay, you're right, we'll have a proper wedding later and let Janey be the flower girl. Come on, we'd better get started. Paul's going to be a nervous wreck if we don't get this show on the road soon."

  Elyse grinned. "So's Liz. She's already repacked her overnight bag three times, and she nearly went into a tizzy over which nightgown to take. I finally had to remind her that it didn't matter since it would never get unpacked."

  Clint laughed and took her hand. He brought it to his lips, then frowned. "Where's your ring?"

  She flexed her naked fingers, then unbuttoned the top button on her coatdress and pulled out a thin gold chain with the ring attached. "It's right here, see?"

  He glared at her. "Why in hell are you wearing it around your neck under your clothes? Dammit, Elyse, I didn't mean you had to hide it. I told you I'd call the newspapers if that's what you wanted."

  Her nerves weren't in much better shape than Liz's, and she snapped back, "It's not what I want, but neither do I intend to let my friends think I'm accepting expensive jewelry from my 'good friend' the senator."

  Clint was silent for a moment. Then he reached out and rebuttoned her dress. "All right," he said tightly. "I'm not going to argue with you today. But we'll discuss it later."

  The wedding took place that afternoon in an elegant little white chapel tucked away in a grove of pine and spruce trees. Both Liz and Elyse wore floral headpieces constructed of baby orchids, and soft organ music wafted on the air as the minister read the age-old vows. The stars in Liz's eyes sparkled more brightly than the diamonds in the ring Paul slipped on her finger before he took his new wife in his arms and kissed her.

  Elyse watched through a mist of happy tears and murmured a little prayer that her beloved sister would live happily ever after with her handsome young husband. Liz, who had given up her own youth to shoulder the burden of raising an adolescent sister, deserved the adoration that Paul made no attempt to hide when he looked at her. Please, God, may their love last forever, Elyse silently asked.

  Later Clint and Elyse hosted an early wedding dinner in a small private dining room at Harrah's. Afterward Paul and Liz left for the family's summer home on the shore of the lake, and Clint and Elyse played the slot machines
for a while, then went upstairs.

  Clint ushered Elyse into the spacious room and closed the door, then took her in his arms. She was so soft and fragrant and cuddly, and it seemed he'd been waiting an eternity for this moment. Just thinking of her made him hot, and when he touched her he burned.

  Dammit, why was he dragging his feet about this relationship? He'd grown used to loneliness until Elyse came into his life, but now it was intolerable. After Dinah he'd promised himself he'd never need a woman again, but he needed Elyse. Why had he hurt her by insisting they wait until later to marry—or even to announce their engagement? The reasons he'd given himself and her were valid, but they weren't good enough.

  He kissed her long and lingeringly. "Have you been waiting as impatiently as I have for this?" he murmured against the side of her mouth.

  "At least as impatiently," she replied, turning her head slightly to capture his lips once more.

  It had been a week since they'd made love, and the fire that simmered in his groin made it difficult for him not to rush her. He pulled her skirt up until he could get his hand under it, then encountered panty hose where he'd hoped for bare flesh. "Are all these clothes necessary?" he muttered as he caressed her sheer-stocking-covered thighs.

  "Only if we're going back downstairs," she answered between kisses.

  "Over my dead body," he said firmly, and slid his hand up to her round little bottom. "We're going to bed." He crushed her up against him.

  She started unfastening the knot in his tie. "Soon, I hope?" She rubbed slowly against him, and he clenched his teeth in an attempt to control his raging desire.

  He gripped her errant derriere. "I'd thought we'd shower first." His voice betrayed his intolerable strain, "but—"

  "Together?" Her breathing was jerky.

  "Of course."

  "Can I wash your… back?"

  He bit back a groan as a vision of her coming at him with a washcloth in her talented little hands nearly did him in. "Honey," he grated fervently, "you can wash anything you want to."