Willpower gone, she leaned to the side, glimpsing again the fascinating face. How she longed to take his cheeks in her hands and kiss each inch of that wonderful face until he kissed her in return. Really kissed her. She sat back. Such a thought. Heat swelled from her neck to the tips of her ears.
Mama would think she was worse than a floozy if she dared kiss him while he slept. But Mama wasn’t here. Jackson was. She pulled in her bottom lip, thinking. Should she? Or would she regret the rash decision?
Palms resting on the soft grass, she edged forward. A few minutes passed while she worked up the courage to move even closer. She traced every line of his face, not with her finger, but with her heart. So serene in sleep. No anger. No hurt. No concerns about his appearance. She longed to shake him and force him to realize how much she meant to him, but that wasn’t possible. He’d have to discover those emotions on his own.
Father, at some point, I have to let him know I love him, or I could lose him forever. He means the world to me.
Ever so gently, she bent down, placed one hand on the ground and the other on his chest. Leaning in, she touched her lips to his—warmed from the sun. Her eyes closed of their own accord as she dreamed of him loving her as much as she loved him.
Whoosh! Air burst from her lungs as strong arms encircled her, crushed her to him, as she was kissed back.
* * *
Softness and warmth, tickling his lips. Errgh. Dreaming about Barbara again. Well, why not make the best of this dream? Jackson reached around before the dream could evaporate to wherever dreams go. He filled his arms with the only woman he’d ever loved, and he kissed her. Kissed her the way he’d wanted to since the first day he had seen her sitting in the car afraid for her life. Sweet lips clung to him, tasting of honeysuckle and wild violets in the spring. His arms forced the hallucination closer and closer. For a dream, she certainly felt real.
Oh, Jack. Don’t ever wake up. You might not have her in life, but in your dreams, she is your Barbara and yours alone.
Heart pounding, he let the thrill of the moment surround him. If this was what his dreams were made of, he’d sleep forever.
Opening an eye, he froze—quickly closed it again.
Not a dream.
His arms tightened. Another look. Barbara? This wasn’t happening. How? She was home with his family.
Okay, Jack. Your mind is playing terrible tricks. Cruel tricks. You’re going to wake up any minute and she’ll be gone. Like his sister’s childhood story. Cinderella at midnight. Poof, in rags again, her coach a pumpkin.
This time, he’d open both his eyes and the phantom Barbara would have left along with his troubled sleep.
“Jackson. You’re crushing me.”
Illusions don’t talk. “Barbara!”
“H-hi, Jack.”
The crooked smile, filled with uncertainty, prevented him from shoving her away. But he untangled his arms and gently set her aside. Warmth crept from his neck over his face and settled in for a few moments of humiliation.
“What are you doing here?” He rose, rolling his sleeves down to cover his arms.
Her mouth hung open. For once, she didn’t have much to say. “I—I...”
Brushing sand from his pants, giving him time to think, he said, “I asked you a question. What are you doing here?”
No longer did he care whether or not he hurt her feelings. She hadn’t the right to be following him, checking up on him like he was a child.
She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly. “I—well, I came to find you.”
“That’s obvious.” Anger quickly replaced his embarrassment as he seethed beneath the surface. Nipping the edge of his lip, he worked hard to keep his anger in check. “But what gives you the right?”
“Everyone was worried.” She drew herself up from the ground.
“Everyone?”
“Yes, of course.” She changed before his eyes. Sweet little kitten of a girl became a mama cat ready to pounce. “Everyone! You don’t think I care one bit?”
Aah, good. The Barbara he knew, full of vim and vinegar, back in a blink.
“I came because your family was worried about you.”
“My brother would have come if they were truly worried.”
“Let’s not argue—”
“Barbara, why can’t you leave me alone?” He punched the tree. Whoa. The tree held its ground well. He lifted skinned knuckles to his mouth. “If I’d wanted you here, I’d have asked you to come.” He turned away from the look on her face. Hurt or anger? It killed him to be mean, but she had to understand. There couldn’t be anything between them. “Barbara, I needed to be alone. I want to think. Sort things out, and I can’t do that with you on my mind every second of every minute of every long day. Having you live under the same roof. Watching you smile and laugh. Seeing you...”
He looked back when he realized he’d said way too much. The hint of a smile edged her lips. She was winning.
Barbara took advantage of the time to sweep dirt from her clothes before she laid it all out in front of him, the truth, as she saw it. “So, I am on your mind. What was that? Every second of every day or something or other?”
“That’s not what I meant.” He struggled to say what was in his head instead of his heart. Barbara could fluster a diplomat. Give the army a squadron of women like her and the Japs would run for cover. She could make a grown man stutter and tremble like a little boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. His wet, clammy hands. He wiped his damp palms on his Levi’s. Worse yet, she knew who held his heart captive. She did.
His knuckles dug into his thighs until he welcomed the pain. “You’re twisting my words.”
“Sure I am.” Her eyes connected with his and dared him to look away. “I will hike this lake, sit under a tree, or bathe in the water in my altogether if I so choose, Jackson Judge. You might have your family hoodwinked, but you don’t fool me.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the tree. “I...was on the other side...of that kiss.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her brow rose and her lips pursed in a line so straight a sergeant would have been proud. Then she smiled, not coy or cute or even smug, but wise-guy beautiful. “You know precisely what I’m talking about. And if you were the man I think you are, you’d admit you’re in love with me and stop all this nonsense so our families could be as happy as we will be.” She tapped her foot against the ground like a rabbit thumping. “Well? Are you or aren’t you?”
What had she asked? “Aren’t I what?”
“In love with me, Jackson.”
“In love with you. What makes you think I’m in love with you?” Sweat punctuated his speech. His hands trembled at his sides while his gut slithered in circles.
She arched a brow, the intense blue eyes reading him. “Well?”
“Not on your life.”
Her voice softened. “Oh, Jack. You are in love with me. A real man would just say the words and get it over with. ‘I love you, Barbara, and I can’t live without you.’ It’s not that hard to say. You don’t need a Harvard law degree to put—” she stopped and counted on her fingers “—ten words together.”
His hands fisted. A real man. If she said that again, he was going to punch something. Looking around for a likely target, he spied the tree again and mentally shook his head. If only Teo were here, then he’d punch something for sure.
But Barbara was right...on every count. No matter that he’d tried to spare her half a man. At least he was half a real man. Not a fop like Teo.
A real man. He’d show her. He had more of what it took to be a man in one of his scars than Barrymore had in his whole body.
Staring into her eyes, doing his best to read her thoughts, all he could think to say was, “You want a real man, huh?” Without another thought to the consequences, he grabbed her by the shoulders, wrenched her to him and kissed her—hard.
When he finally found the courage to open his eyes, hers met his,
and they were brimming with compassion. “You are in love with me. Why won’t you say it?” Her face radiated joy, but he couldn’t say what he knew would hurt her in the end.
Damp curls plastered her skin. Her cheeks, rosy and sweet, beckoned him to kiss the petal softness again. He could feel his determination slipping away, one blue eye at a time.
But she deserved better. Why was it so hard for her to see that? He shoved her out of his arms. “Go away, Barbara.”
“Jackson, don’t do this.”
He licked dry lips. She’d be hurt in the long run. Doing his best to free himself of her, he sucked back air. She deserved a VanDusen or a well-deserved singing career. Somehow, he would have to make her believe he didn’t care.
His arms opened wide. “What do you want from me?”
She stepped closer; he stepped back. “I want you to love me, Jackson.”
“Even if I wanted to—and I don’t—I couldn’t. I don’t want anyone or anything. Only to be left alone.”
“But you do love me. I can tell.”
“You’d like to think that, but the truth is, you’re not my type. Never have been.” He leaned forward, pecked her lips like a big brother. “See? Nothing. Just a kiss to make you happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Like under the mistletoe, one more conquest. That’s all you were, Barbara. I’ve always been attracted to what I can’t have.”
Shades of Teo filled his mind. Shudders ricocheted through him for the cruel comments. But this was for her own good. He did a complete turnaround and walked to the edge of the water, tears welling. “You’ll find someone. There’s the right man out there. It’s just not me.”
The apple he’d eaten rose in his throat and he swallowed, forcing the burn down. Noises thundered in his head, voices that told him to stop wishing.
Chapter 11
Stumbling back to the Judges’ house, tears bathing her eyes, Barbara crumpled against a log blocking the path. She slipped the pack from her shoulders. Quiet mocked her as she sobbed against the back of her arm. He wasn’t the man for her? Of course, he was. Surprised by his cruelty, she hiccuped a sob and switched from hurt to anger faster than Jackson could have said I love you...if he had had the nerve.
Her father hadn’t raised a baby. He’d taught her to be strong. Sitting alone in the wild, nursing hurt feelings like a whiny brat didn’t speak well of his instruction. “No matter what you want in life, Barbara, you can have it. You work hard, you make plans, and you go after whatever it is. Never say die.”
Never say die.
Did that apply to relationships? She picked at a piece of bark on the log, contemplating her father’s words. Well, why not? If she wanted Jackson badly enough, she would force him to admit he loved her.
Let’s see how he’d like it if she did find another man. Maybe a taste of the green-eyed monster would persuade him to face the fact that he loved her.
A sudden barb in her heart questioned the plan.
Why not wait for God’s timing?
She was. Only she’d make Jackson a little jealous to hurry things along.
Not by deceit.
She wasn’t deceiving anyone, not really. Standing and brushing dirt from her slacks, her head swirled in what she recognized as justification for what she was about to do. Just playing a game. Like Monopoly or darts.
* * *
Kissing her one minute, hauling her so close a gnat wouldn’t have been able to flit between them. Barely a second later explaining how she meant nothing to him. Real nice. Jackson wasn’t kidding himself. When he had wrapped his arms around her, he’d escaped into the moment, hadn’t intended to let go.
A man didn’t get a hundred chances to make things right. And he had let his best opportunity for happiness walk out of his life. He fell to his knees near the water, submerging his legs.
Why, God? Please. All I want is to be left alone. Let me forget her smile, her eyes, her loving nature. Let me forget everything about her. I want to be alone! You know that. You know exactly what I want. Please help me.
Hiking had lost its appeal. Another leisurely nap under the willow tree would solve nothing. His head ached, muscles cramped and a tightness had crept across his shoulders and neck like a band of steel. He might as well go home.
* * *
Barbara stared at the huge white house, windows like eyes winking at her. She staggered to the porch, dropped her bag and collapsed in the swing, her feet pushing and relaxing, pushing and relaxing, just enough for the seat to sway gently. The squishy cushion and the soothing rhythm eased her pain, but not for long. Memories didn’t die because a swing calmed a person; the mind continued its thoughts, darting from topic to topic. She snuggled against the big pillow that ran the length of the swing. If only the pillow were Jackson. She might cuddle up and stay there forever, safe and snug.
Daydreams. Only daydreams. She closed her eyes, but felt again the warm breath on her face just before he had kissed her. His lips, firm but gentle, had proved to her how much he loved her. The front door opened and a porch board creaked under a heavy foot. Jackson had returned.
“Who’s the lonely lady and why are there tears in those lovely eyes?” Teo sat down, nudging her aside.
Barbara scooted over to make room for the Frenchman, but she would have preferred Jackson. “Memories. Some good, some bad. A few needing to let go once and for all. What did you do today, Teo? Something terribly amusing, I’ll bet.”
When he twisted a piece of her hair between his fingers, she caught the odor of cologne. Expensive cologne. “Sat around thinking of ways to cheer up a beautiful girl, why?”
She shook her head, felt the rush of heat in her cheeks. “Oh, you are the ladies’ man, aren’t you?”
“That hurts.” He grinned and grabbed his chest.
“Teo, I doubt anything or anyone hurts you for long. I wish I had your carefree nature.”
When he looked up, she couldn’t tell if he was sincere, or simply making another play for her affection. “If you ever need a shoulder...”
* * *
Jackson returned minutes before supper, a deep scowl in place of a wink, but Barbara managed to avoid him the entire evening and for two days thereafter. Keeping her mind on more pleasant activities, the days passed in happy confusion with them seeing each other only briefly at meals and sometimes not even then. She’d received a note from her mother that Cincinnati had called again. Ideas swirled in her head. If she took that engagement, she would be away from Jackson. He didn’t want her anyway, did he?
Oh, why was life as an adult so confusing? She must decide what she really wanted. Convincing Jackson that he loved her, or going home to a singing career. Her singing had been the reason she’d broken it off with Elliott. No. She broke up with Elliott because of Jackson and if he would admit to loving her, she’d marry him, and he wouldn’t make her choose. Anyway, there were rumors that talks were taking place in Chattanooga about its own Opera house. Couldn’t she love Jackson and sing?
* * *
Gifts arrived daily and the dining room had been converted to present headquarters. Gifts on the table, large and small packages on the sideboard, even presents on the plant table once the violets were removed. Betty squealed and clapped her hands as the wrappings fell away. “Just what I wanted.”
Two days and counting. Final touches added to the perfect details. The fruit pies and honey cakes remained in the cold cellar until the last minute so they would be fresh when served. Pounds of peanut brittle waited in tins to keep them dry. Molly planned to arrive late Friday afternoon to roast two plump turkeys, a dozen fat-as-butter chickens and four fresh pork shoulders. Mrs. Schroeder had offered to bring two ten-pound venison roasts, spiced with her secret seasonings. Aunt Jenny drew the short straw for three roaster pans of scalloped potatoes and two of corn pudding. Barbara hoped Aunt Jenny would add a touch of sugar and onion to the corn like Aunt Ina. At least onion.
A real country wedding. With the war, the family didn’t think it
proper to go all out, renting a hall and spending money that could be put to better use for the soldiers, although white wooden chairs had been rented from the church, enough for two hundred people.
According to Betty, that meant half the town intended to come. Some would sit. A few would just have to stand. Barbara liked the informality compared to what she was sure the VanDusens would have planned for her. She thanked God every day she hadn’t walked down that aisle. Because marriage was for life, for better or worse. Probably lots of for worse, but why start out that way?
Teddy’s parents were expected to arrive tomorrow, and Barbara did her best to help put the house in order, not that she’d ever seen it out of order. Confirmed reservations waited at the hotel for Mr. and Mrs. Barrymore. Teo and Teddy already had rooms, though they’d stayed there very little. Teddy couldn’t be pried from Betty’s side and Teo had found himself content to dog Barbara’s heels, to her chagrin.
According to the Farmer’s Almanac, unseasonably dry weather for the rest of the month answered their prayers, so the crepe paper streamers appeared that morning. Thursday night, Barbara worked until she fell into bed exhausted, but in a good way.
“Betty, can you believe it? Two more days and you’ll be Mrs. Theodore Barrymore. Say, that rhymes. I didn’t notice until now.” How strange it must feel to be a bride. “Are you all right?”
“I’m a little scared. With all the excitement about the wedding, I never gave much thought to being Mrs. Anybody. How odd that will be. I’ve been happy simply being Elizabeth Judge. Now to be Teddy’s wife. I’m on clouds.”
Barbara shifted so she faced Betty’s twin bed. “You really love him, don’t you?”
The stillness swallowed both of them until Betty broke the silence with soft, gentle, almost embarrassed words. “Of course I do. I couldn’t even think of marrying someone if I didn’t love him.” Her face flashed crimson. “Did you love Elliott? Truly love him? I couldn’t tell from your letters.”
Biting down on her lip, recalling the short engagement, Barbara figured honesty between friends was good. “I thought I did. Until I came to New Hope with my family.”
With Eyes of Love (Heartsong Presents) Page 10
