by Lisa Gregory
Julia had thought that after awhile James would give up, that he would stop insisting that she marry him and simply take the easy relationship she offered him. She wanted James terribly, and she was certain that he wanted her just as much. It was crazy that he would not come to her bed; he could have her, all of her, without the marriage. Sometimes, sitting a discreet distance apart from each other on the front porch, talking, Julia would see a dark flame leap into James's eyes, and then she knew that he was thinking about making love to her.
Once when he looked at her in that way, she asked in a low urgent voice, "Why won't you come inside with me? The children are at Sarah's sister's house. We could—"
James shook his head once, emphatically. "Please, Julie. Don't torture me."
"I don't want to. You're the one who's keeping yourself from what you want!" she retorted.
"But I'm not the one offering me what I want more than anything in the world—if only I'll betray the woman I love to the gossips of this town. You think that doesn't tear me apart? Looking at you and seeing how beautiful you are, knowing how sweet your lips taste, wanting to taste them again. Knowing that if I said the word, I could have you—and also knowing that if we went into your house and didn't come out for an hour or two, everybody in town tomorrow would be naming you a—" He bit back the word. His expression was thunderous. "I won't do it. I won't have everyone gossiping about you."
"They're gossiping already."
"They'd stop if you would marry me."
"Don't be silly. The tongues would wag even more if you married me."
"Damn it, Julia!" James's eyes flashed, and his words were a hiss. "I love you. I want you for my wife, not an occasional bed partner!"
Tears sprang into Julia's eyes, and she looked down at her lap. "It's not right."
"It is right. It's the only thing that's right!" James stood up. "I have to leave now. If I stay, I'm either going to start yelling at you or pick you up and carry you to bed. And don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"You know like what. Like you want me to carry you to bed."
"I do want that."
He gritted his teeth. "What I want right now is to rip off every stitch of your clothes."
A flush sprang to Julia's cheeks. She felt the heat all through her. She couldn't speak.
"I'd like to kiss you senseless. I'd like to take you right here on the porch." His eyes were burning, compelling. He turned away abruptly with a low, animal growl of frustration. "Damn it, Julia! How long will you make me wait? You're going to drive me absolutely insane if you keep this up!"
Julia swallowed. She didn't say anything. She couldn't.
James sighed and swung off the porch. She watched him walk away.
Her hands were trembling. She wanted to cry. How long could she hold out against James's persistence? How long could she deny the man she loved?
❧
Luke and Sarah soon knew the gossip about Julia and Dr. Banks. Isolated though they were on the farm, they heard about it at church one Sunday, then again a couple of weeks later when they were in town. Both times a hard, still look came over Luke's face, and Sarah knew that he was seething inside. He hated the idea of his sister's name being linked with James Banks. He was certain that James was trying to take advantage of Julia again.
The last straw was the third time they were told about James and Julia. Stu and Jenny and their children had come out to the Turner farm for Sunday dinner. They had just finished the meal, and the children had run out to play. The two women rose to clean off the table, and Stu settled back in his chair, pulling out his pipe and pouch of tobacco. Luke poured himself another cup of coffee.
"Well," Stu commented cheerfully as he filled the bowl of his pipe, "looks like Jimmy Banks is getting ready to pop the question, doesn't it?"
Luke froze, his hand clenching around the handle of the coffeepot. Sarah sighed inwardly. Why had Stu had to open his mouth about it?
"What?" Luke's voice was deadly quiet.
"Well, the good doctor's head over heels in love with your sister. The whole town's expecting him to ask her to marry him soon."
"That'll be a cold day in hell."
Stu glanced up, surprised by Luke's words and the flat, cold voice in which he said them. "You don't think so?"
"Dr. James Banks," Luke sneered over the name, "would never marry a Turner."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Jennifer put in. "Mrs. Gibson told me he's taken Julia to church every Sunday for the past six weeks. And Dorothy Blanton said they went to the Chautauqua in Greenville together. It sounds serious to me."
"Doesn't anyone in Willow Springs have anything better to do than talk about my sister?"
Jennifer and Stu both stared at him. "Why, Luke, what's the matter?" Jennifer asked, amazed. "Wouldn't you like for Julia to marry Dr. Banks? He seems like an awfully nice—"
"Damn it!" Luke slammed his hand down on the table, making the crockery clatter. The Harpers' words were like sparks to the dry tinder of his frustrated emotions. "Don't you understand? He's not going to marry Julia. He'd never marry her."
"Well, Luke," Sarah put in hastily before he got into a fight with her relatives, "you have to admit that he seems to have honorable intentions."
"I don't have to admit anything like it," he retorted, jumping to his feet. "He's a scoundrel, and you, at least, should know that."
"I know what you think he is," Sarah answered carefully. "But I'm not sure that—"
"You're saying you don't believe me?" His voice was thin and sharp as a knife.
Jennifer took an involuntary step back, and her husband rose from his chair. But Sarah faced Luke calmly. "You know I would never say that. I believe that you think you know what happened, but it's possible to be wrong about a situation, Luke."
"I'm not wrong about this." Each word was short and hard, like little punches, and there was a look of such cold anger on his face that Jennifer couldn't fathom how her sister could stand there and look him in the eye, so unafraid.
But Sarah wasn't afraid of his anger. She would have welcomed an outburst of temper from Luke; any emotion would be better than the remote politeness he'd shown her the past weeks. She was almost eager for the dark anger to break its bounds, to feel his emotions wash over her.
They stood, staring at each other, vibrating with tension and anticipation. Luke wanted to scream at Sarah, to slam his fist down on the table, to grab her by the arms and demand that she agree with him. He wanted to yank her up tight against his body and kiss her until her opposition melted.
His fingers curled into a fist. That was the thing. He wanted to kiss her, to subdue her with his passion. He wanted her. The flood of his anger was only a hairline away from desire.
"Goddamn it!" He broke away and walked to the side door. "I am going to settle this." He grabbed his hat from the rack beside the door and slammed out.
"What in the world?" Jennifer stared at the screen door, vibrating on its hinges. She swung back to her sister. "Sarah? What's the matter? I'm sorry we said anything. I mean, I thought he'd be pleased."
Sarah shook her head. "Don't worry. It's not anything you said. He's just... upset about something else. This has been coming on for a long time." She sighed and went to the kitchen window. She watched as Luke saddled Jo-Jo in the corral, then mounted and rode out. "I hope he doesn't do anything foolish."
Jennifer looked at Sarah. It was obvious that things weren't right between Sarah and Luke. But it was equally obvious that Sarah wasn't about to tell her what was going on or ask her for advice. Sarah had always been close-mouthed, especially when it came to Luke. She wouldn't say anything that might be construed as criticism of him.
So Jennifer shrugged and dropped the topic. She wasn't going to pry. She carried in the rest of the dishes from the table, and as she and Sarah cleaned them, they began to talk of other things. Neither mentioned the scene again.
Late in the afternoon, Stu and Jennifer gat
hered their children into their buggy and left for home. Cal and Emily stood with Sarah, waving to the other family until they were out of sight. The three of them started back toward the house. Sarah rested her hand casually on Cal's shoulders, and for an instant he leaned into her.
Then he twisted away. "You ain't my mother," he said sullenly, not looking at her.
Now where had that come from? Sarah wondered. Anytime she thought she was getting close to Cal, he lashed out at her.
"No, I'm not," she agreed, keeping her voice calm. "You know, Cal, I'm not trying to take your mother's place in your life. I couldn't. She will always be your mother. You love her, and I understand that. I wouldn't try to make you give that love to me."
Cal kept his head turned away. Sarah made him feel so mixed up. He knew she wasn't trying to take his mother's place. Who would want to be his mother, anyway? The bad thing was, sometimes he imagined that she was his mother. He wished he'd never seen his mother. He wished Sarah would call him "son," as his father sometimes did. He wished—sometimes he wished it so hard it hurt—that Sarah belonged to him as she belonged to Emily. He knew that couldn't happen. He wasn't her son; she wouldn't even want him to be. Her goodness to him was just part of her nature; she was kind to everyone. He wasn't special to her. It was wrong of him to wish that he was and that his real mother didn't exist. It made him feel guilty.
Sarah's hand went out to touch Cal's bright head, but she hesitated and drew it back. Cal didn't like to be touched. "What I would like is to be your friend, though. Couldn't we be friends?"
"I don't need a friend." Cal snarled and ran away from them down to the barn.
Sarah sighed, looking after him. The boy was as difficult to deal with as his father.
❧
Luke rode straight to the Banks house. James himself opened the door at Luke's impatient knock.
"Luke." James's brows rose in surprise, but he said only, "Won't you come in?"
Luke's eyes bored into him. "This isn't a social call."
"Somehow I suspected as much. Why don't we go into my study?"
Luke followed him into the darkly paneled room. James sat in one heavy leather chair and offered Luke another. Luke remained standing.
"I came here to tell you to leave Julie alone." James simply looked at him, saying nothing. "I won't have you playing with her, like you did before."
"I assure you, I am not playing."
"Her name is all over town! There's nobody that isn't talking about you and her."
James frowned. "Something disrespectful? Is anyone daring to say—"
"They're daring to say that you're chasing her like a dog with one bone. That you escort her everywhere, that there's hardly a day that you aren't planted on her front porch."
"That's true. You can't blame people for speaking the truth."
"Yeah, and what are they going to say when you don't marry her? What'll they say when you leave her high and dry? Julie will be the mockery of this town. They'll say you got what you wanted from her, so there was no need to marry her. Damn it. Banks, I won't let you lie with her and abandon her again, with the whole town of Willow Springs watching!"
James sprang to his feet, his eyes suddenly blazing. "Damn it, if you weren't Julia's brother, I'd—"
"You'd what?" Luke's eyes glittered. "Get beat up again? Come on, Jimmy, you want to try me?"
"Listen!" James came forward, his body taut with frustration and anger. "You always go off half-cocked, Turner. Have you ever thought of hearing the whole story before you jump in, fists swinging?"
"I don't need to hear the whole story to know that you're the son of a bitch that got my sister pregnant and left her once."
"I didn't."
Luke's lips curled into a sneer. "Sure."
"Goddamn it! I didn't leave her! I won't now! I love her. I want to marry her."
"What?"
"I want to marry Julia. I've asked her to marry me. I've courted her with all the honor, respect, and pomp I know how. I have not compromised her in any way. It's Julia who won't marry me. She won't say yes."
"You're lying."
"Why would I lie? Ask Julia."
"But you walked out on her when she—"
"I did not walk out on her! I wouldn't have, ever. I know what you think of me; and God knows, I didn't act like much of a gentleman where Julia was concerned. But I loved her. I planned to marry her. She didn't tell me she was pregnant. She just married Will Dobson and left me to find it out from your pa. I never knew she had my child until a few weeks ago. I love her."
Luke stared at James. He didn't want to believe him. He wanted to blame James; he wanted someone to yell at, someone to hit. He needed a release for the wild frustration inside him. But he knew that James was telling the truth. "She didn't tell you."
"No."
It sounded like something Julia would do, taking the blame on herself, asking no one for help. Slowly the anger drained out of Luke. He felt suddenly old and tired. "Christ." Luke took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. "So I hated you all these years for nothing." He looked at James, puzzled. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know what you thought. I never knew she was carrying my child." James sighed and flopped back down in the chair. "I thought she didn't want me anymore. I presumed you hated me for seducing your sister. And I had. I could hardly defend myself against that. Loving a woman doesn't excuse a man from having taken his pleasure at her expense."
"No," Luke agreed in a weary tone. "It doesn't."
For the first time James noticed that Luke didn't look good. He had lost weight, and his face was drawn. He seemed tired, almost ill, but there was something else—an almost haunted expression in his eyes.
"Luke, are you all right?"
"What? Yes, of course."
"You don't look it. Maybe you should let me check you out."
Luke grimaced. "I'm fine. Just tired from the harvest."
"You've lost weight."
"I always do in the summer."
"Mrs. Turner's all right?"
"Yeah. Sarah's fine."
"Is she expecting again? Are you worried about that?"
"No!" Luke flared. James appeared taken aback at his emphatic answer, so Luke tried to soften it a little. "She's not. She's doing fine."
James's eyes narrowed. He suspected what was wrong with Luke. He should have realized the signs earlier, he'd felt the same ache and frustration often enough the past few months. "You know, there's nothing to keep your wife from getting pregnant again. The premature birth didn't do any permanent damage to her."
"No. She won't."
"You haven't had intercourse with her, have you?"
"That's none of your business."
"Luke, it's all right. I told your wife that you could resume relations in a couple of months."
"She's not getting pregnant again."
"Is this Sarah's decision?"
"Of course not. She'd never deny me anything. She wouldn't do a thing to protect herself."
"Then you're the one who doesn't want to—"
"Damn it!" Luke slammed his fist into the back of the leather chair beside him, his fury and frustration tumbling out. "Of course I want to! How could I not want her? But I almost killed her before. I can't let it happen again. I won't!"
"What do you mean, you almost killed her? Luke, do you think that you somehow caused her to lose the baby?"
"Yes." His eyes were bleak. "I took her, and she was too far along."
"That wasn't the reason, Luke."
"Your father told us it would harm the baby. Harm Sarah."
James sighed. "My father was a good doctor, but he wasn't God. A lot of older doctors think that, but in my opinion intercourse is safe until the last month. No one has shown that it's done any harm to the fetus or the mother. Medicine changes; medical opinions change."
"She lost the baby. She almost died."
"It wasn't because of that. Your wife went into labor too earl
y because the placenta broke free from the wall of the uterus and moved down until it was between the fetus and the cervix. That was why there was so much blood. But that condition is simply something that happens. You didn't cause it, Luke. It would have occurred no matter what you did or didn't do. It was fate."
Luke stared at James. Deep inside him something broke and fell free. He felt suddenly years younger, pounds lighter. Was he really not responsible for Sarah's pain? For the baby's death? It was too good to be true; he wanted too much to trust it.
He ran his hands through his hair. He didn't know what to say or do now. Everything had been turned upside down in the last few minutes. Jimmy, Julia, Sarah's losing their baby. Things he'd been certain of were suddenly false. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. Julia never told me that you didn't know." He sighed. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll give the bride away, if I can ever get Julia to accept me."
"All right." Luke paused. "Why won't she marry you?"
James made a face. "Because she's the stubbornnest woman this side of the Mississippi."
Luke smiled fractionally. "No. The second stubbornnest. I'm married to the first." He turned and walked to the door, then swung back. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For what you told me. All of it."
"Sure."
Luke left the Banks house and mounted his horse. He rode slowly back to the farm. He felt jumbled up inside. He was enormously relieved. He hadn't caused the baby's death. The heavy guilt that had lived inside him for months could now drain away.
He wasn't a killer. James hadn't appeared revolted or even surprised when Luke admitted that he had made love to Sarah late in her pregnancy. Perhaps he wasn't as bad, as wrong, as he had thought. Maybe tonight when they climbed the stairs to bed, he would follow Sarah into their room. They could sink into the big feather bed where they'd shared such pleasure, and—but no.
