Wonder and Wild Desire

by Jeanne Stephens

  Carrie nodded, embarrassed at the way her thoughts had wandered. Ethel turned to Dr. Marlow to say, "Robert, how is your search for an associate progressing?"

  "Not very well," said the doctor. "It's difficult to find a young physician these days who wants to go into family practice in a small town."

  "It's such a shame," said Jane Marlow in her small, quiet voice that seemed incongruous in such a large woman, "that we had to lose Dr. Wickersham."

  This seemingly innocuous remark was met by silence. Looking about the table, Carrie saw that the self-effacing Jane had suddenly commanded everyone's attention. The silence was stifling with tension, and, stirring uneasily, Carrie asked, "What happened to him?"

  She was not really interested in what had become of Dr. Marlow's former associate, but she wanted to say something to break the strange mood that had settled at the table. Jane Marlow, however, continued to look down at her plate as she murmured, "He… died."

  "Oh, that's too bad," Carrie responded, her effort to enliven the conversation faltering.

  "Have you placed ads in the medical journals, Robert?" Josh's steady voice seemed to release the others from their spell, as if a collective sigh had gone around the table.

  "Oh, yes," replied the doctor with a heartiness that sounded a little forced. "Several times. A few men have contacted me, but, in the end, none of them wanted to come."

  "Well, you can't keep carrying the whole load yourself," Ethel said, giving her friend a concerned scrutiny. "Jane tells me that there are nights when you don't sleep more than two or three hours."

  "I take catnaps," Robert Marlow responded. "And I'm going to retire in a few years, whether or not I've found anyone to take over my practice. Did Jane tell you we're thinking of looking at condominiums in Florida?"

  A lively discussion ensued about the wisdom of retired couples leaving their homes to pass their retirement years in a new environment. The dinner progressed, each course more delicious than the previous one, and Carrie found herself conversing easily with Kevin Hamilton and feeling as if she had known him for years. Wine was served with the meal, and just before they left the table, Dr. Marlow asked for everyone's attention, lifted his glass, and said, "Congratulations to Josh and Carrie, and may they have a long and happy life together."

  "Hear, hear!" exclaimed Kevin as glasses were lifted.

  Carrie fingered the stern of her own glass, glancing across the table at Josh through lowered lashes. He sipped his wine and gazed at her with a deeply penetrating look. Then, he turned to say something to Jessica, Carrie studied him unobtrusively. His shoulders looked enormously broad in the dove-gray jacket. The strong column of his neck rose from the open collar of the black shirt, his waving tawny hair falling down over the back of the collar slightly. Every last detail about his appearance spoke of money and power.

  He glanced up suddenly and caught her eyes staring at him. One tawny eyebrow rose sardonically, and she turned abruptly to Kevin at her side, rushing into a question about the process of making plywood.

  They left the table finally, returning to the living room. A few minutes later, seated on a pale blue brocade sofa beside Ethel, Carrie looked about the room and noticed that Josh had disappeared. A further sweeping glance told her that Jessica, too, was gone. The blatantly obvious character of their absence went over Carrie in a humiliating wave. She hardly expected Josh to respect her, but how dare he behave with such tactlessness in his mother's presence? To do Ethel credit, she continued to talk amiably with Carrie and Christine. Several minutes later, when Josh and Jessica sauntered back into the room together, Ethel merely glanced up at them and smiled.

  Her mother-in-law was the soul of decorum, Carrie realized, and she rather envied the older woman the ability to look so cool in the face of such rude behavior.

  A half hour later, although to Carrie it seemed as if days had passed since they left the table, the guests began to make their departures. Finally, when only Carrie, Josh, and Ethel remained, Ethel seemed to sag a little and, smiling at her son and his wife, said that she was tired and wanted to retire.

  Getting to her feet, Carrie took the older woman's arm solicitously. "I'm going to bed, too, Mother. I'll walk with you to your apartment."

  Josh didn't comment as the two women left the room, and Carrie suspected he was only waiting for them to be out of sight so he could follow Jessica home.

  In her bedroom, Carrie looked in on Mike, who was sleeping peacefully in his crib. She closed the louvered doors on him and went into the bathroom to change into a yellow nylon gown. She was standing in front of her dressing table, brushing her hair, when the door from the hallway burst open and Josh strode in.

  Laying aside the brush, Carrie turned to face him, feeling exposed in the clinging yellow nylon, even though the gown's Grecian cut was much more modest than the white lace one that she had not worn again since that first night.

  "Does it ever occur to you to knock?" she asked querulously.

  He smiled coldly. "Not at my wife's door, no."

  "Well, I'm too tired to rehash the dinner party," Carrie said, moving to pass him. "I want to go to bed."

  "Not quite yet." He had moved between her and the bed, and she halted, her blue-green eyes blazing into his. "I want an explanation of your behavior tonight."

  Carrie stood for a moment as if she had been turned to stone. Then she exclaimed, "My behavior!"

  "What do you think you were doing with Kevin Hamilton?" His words issued from lips which had thinned with anger.

  "I was," she retorted with mounting indignation, "being hospitable to a guest in this house."

  "You were flirting with him," Josh stated harshly, "and everyone here tonight knew it. You were too obvious to have left any doubt." His icy gaze swept over her, narrowing slightly as it rested on the bodice of her gown where her breasts were clearly outlined against the clinging nylon. "You're a conniving little girl, Carrie," he observed too calmly. "I've suspected all along that there was more beneath that chaste facade of yours than meets the eye."

  "What right have you to criticize me?" she demanded shrilly, drawing up her arms in an effort to cover her breasts and hide them from his steady regard. "If you wish to discuss crude flaunting of the proprieties, what were you and Jessica doing when you disappeared after dinner?"

  He lifted his head and stared down at her, frowning. "She wanted to ask my advice about an investment she's thinking of making."

  "Oh?" Carrie exclaimed, feeling a quaking start deep down inside her. "I had no idea you are an investment counselor, in addition to your other talents!" Her lips twisted with irony. "Good heavens, Josh, what kind of fool do you take me for? I don't believe that, and neither will anyone else."

  "You're jealous," he drawled, an insightful expression settling on his face.

  Carrie felt a shaky little laugh rise in her throat. "No, I'm not!"

  "You are," he said in the same sardonic drawl as before. He took a step toward her and her hands came up between them instinctively in an attempt to push him away, but it was useless. His arms came around her with a steely strength, pressing against the small of her back, crushing her body against his.

  His mouth covered hers with cruel demand. Her fingers were spread flat against the silk front of his shirt, and she could feel the heat of his skin through the thin material. Carrie felt a sob gathering in her throat. His mouth was crushing hers in an angry sort of persuasion, and the churning that had uncoiled itself somewhere in her midsection was little short of tumultuous. She was shamefully aware that her breasts were straining against his chest in an unwilling yearning.

  When at last he lifted his head, she heard herself give a little involuntary groan of protest. He laughed huskily. "You can't have Kevin Hamilton, Carrie. You will have to settle for me."

  For a moment Carrie stood still, shocked and motionless, then with a stifled cry she freed one arm in a movement that took him unawares. Before either of them knew what was happening, her open palm ha
d struck his cheek, the impact so great that her whole hand stung.

  Josh grabbed her, shaking her. "Carrie you…"

  "I didn't—mean to do that." She pressed a fist against her trembling lips. "You—you made me so angry—"

  Slowly the fury drained from his face and his grip on her loosened. She stepped backward, shaking off his hands. His face darkened again and he took one hesitant step toward her, then halted, obviously puzzled by the bright glitter of tears that had sprung to her eyes.

  "Did I hurt you?" he demanded. "Carrie, I—"

  "Yes," she interrupted. Her voice was low, but it throbbed with a fierce sincerity that brought his tawny brows together. "You have done nothing but hurt me since the day we met."

  His face paled, emphasizing the angry red imprint of her hand on his cheek. Without another word, he moved around her and stormed out through the hallway door. She heard him descend the stairs, then leave the house, with no effort to do it quietly.

  During the week that followed, she saw little of him. Two mornings, he came into her bedroom to spend a few minutes with Mike before going to work. But Carrie might as well have been another piece of furniture, for all the attention he paid her. And she preferred it that way, she told herself.

  During the same period that her relationship with her husband had reached an impasse, the one with her mother-in-law grew closer. She spent some time each day with Ethel in her apartment. These hours, and her time with Mike, were, in fact, the only parts of her new life that she really looked forward to.

  The two women talked easily about a variety of topics—except when Ethel brought the conversation around to Josh. "You must make him spend more time at home," Ethel said on several occasions. Since Carrie did not know now to reply to this, she usually said nothing.

  Once Ethel looked at her sharply and asked, "Carrie, has something gone wrong between you and my son?"

  "No, everything is just as it was on the day we married," Carrie told her truthfully.

  Clearly, Ethel was not satisfied with that. Since she was not a prying mother-in-law, she held her peace, although Carrie found Ethel studying her thoughtfully from time to time.

  That week before Thanksgiving, Carrie spent several afternoons with Betty in the kitchen baking fruitcakes and cookies for Julia Freemont's bakery booth. Chatting and working alongside the housekeeper seemed to put Carrie in something of a holiday spirit, and she found that she was looking forward to the bustle of the bazaar.

  On Friday morning she took her baked goods to town early and found the large Community Building where the booths had been set up. Julia was manning the bakery booth and she welcomed Carrie's contributions effusively.

  "Did you use Betty Carney's recipe for the fruitcakes?"

  When Carrie admitted that she had, Julie added, "They'll go like hotcakes. I'm going to put one of them aside for myself while I can."

  "When do you want me to take over?" Carrie inquired.

  "One o'clock."

  "Good. I'll have plenty of time to browse." During the next hour, Carrie bought a stuffed monkey made from men's work socks for Mike, a pretty ceramic pencil holder for Ethel, and some bright potholders for Betty.

  The crowd milling in the Community Building increased as the morning passed and by ten-thirty Carrie had seen all of the booths. Since she still had more than two hours to kill before taking her place in Julia's booth, she remembered Kevin Hamilton's offer to show her through the plywood plant. Looking down at the lime-green wool slacks and sweater and champagne-colored wool jacket she had on, she decided that she looked presentable enough to put in an appearance at one of the Revell businesses.

  Her decision made, she wove her way through the crowd, hurried to her car, and drove north toward the town's outskirts where the Revell complex spread over several hundred acres.

  Kevin Hamilton's office, she was told by a guard at the gate, was in a buff-brick building to the east of the huge metal barnlike structure which housed the plywood plant. She gave her name to Kevin's secretary and had just seated herself in a chair to wait when the door to the inner office opened and Kevin himself grinned at her.

  "This is a pleasant surprise, Carrie."

  "I won't stay if you're busy."

  "I'm not too busy for you. Come on—I'll give you our highest-priced tour."

  She laughed and they left the office building, Kevin's hand resting lightly on her arm. As they walked across the grounds toward the plant she glanced over at him. A rust tan-and-cream-striped sports coat set easily on his long, slender frame. With the coat be wore a tan V-necked sweater and trousers, cream shirt, rust tie, and highly polished cordovan ankle-high walking boots. His clothes, as Carrie had noticed during their previous meeting, were chosen to match perfectly and were clearly expensive.

  "I found myself with some time on my hands before my stint at one of the bazaar booths," Carrie explained. "It's kind of you to take time out from what I know is a busy schedule."

  His dark eyes rested lightly on her face. "As I said before, I can always take time for the boss's wife. I'm surprised Josh hasn't taken you through the whole complex by now."

  "He's busy," Carrie said shortly, "and I'd prefer it if you didn't think of me as the boss's wife."

  "A friend, then?"

  "That's much better."

  "You say that," he commented thoughtfully, "as if you need a friend."

  She avoided meeting his glance, afraid he would see too much in her eyes. "We can never have too many."

  He said no more until they reached the plant door and he opened it and ushered her through. Taking down two blue cotton hooded coveralls from a rack nearby, he handed one to her, saying, "Put this on and button it all the way up. Otherwise, you'll have sawdust all over you when we come out."

  The coverall reached almost to her ankles, and as they entered the noisy, dusty plant she was glad of the protection. They started on one end of the long, open building and followed the plywood through all the processes required for it to emerge in sturdy square sheets. It was a long, involved operation, much more so than Carrie had imagined. Fortunately, Kevin was by her side explaining each step as they moved through the plant.

  It was noon when they shed their coveralls along with the thin layer of sawdust that had settled on them and again stepped out into the cold. "If you don't have to be back right away, come to my office for lunch," Kevin suggested. "I have a small refrigerator where I keep sandwich material and drinks."

  "Thank you. I'd like that. I have to be back by one, though."

  "No problem," Kevin said, taking her arm and hurrying her toward the office building.

  "Are Josh's offices in that larger brick building over there?" Carrie asked, gesturing, as they neared their destination.

  Kevin's glance was quizzical. "Yes. Haven't you been there?"

  Wishing she had not made the answer so embarrassingly obvious, Carrie said, "Not yet. Mike keeps me at home most of the time."

  Back in Kevin's paneled office, he made fresh coffee and ham sandwiches generously layered with crisp pickle chips and lettuce. He brought out paper plates and cups and arranged them on a tiny table which sat in one corner with two chairs.

  "You're very good at this," Carrie told him as she took her seat.

  "Alas," he said with a wry smile, "my culinary ability doesn't extend much beyond coffee and sandwiches. I eat out most of the time."

  "Ethel tells me there are one or two ladies around who would like to take over those domestic chores. Are you serious about anyone?"

  He looked at her over the sandwich, which he held in both hands. "I'm not ready for marriage yet, if that's what you mean. I'm concentrating on my career right now."

  "You seem to have done quite well," Carrie remarked, glancing about the well-furnished office.

  He shrugged, hesitated, then said carefully, "The position as Josh's assistant is still open, even though his brother has been dead for over a year." . "Have you told Josh you're interested?" Carrie inquired
in a noncommittal tone.

  He laughed shortly. "That's hardly necessary. The problem is I'm not the only one."

  "I see."

  His expression was rueful. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to put you on the spot. Josh isn't the kind of man who mixes business with his home life, anyway."

  "No." Nor would she have the slightest influence on him if he were, Carrie thought. It occurred to her that Kevin might have much more luck gaining Jessica Thorpe's ear.

  She was relieved when Kevin turned the conversation to something else. They had finished eating and were having a second cup of coffee when a light tap sounded at the door and Josh walked in.

  "Sorry to appear unannounced, but your secretary's out—" He halted as his eyes raked the room and fell on Carrie. He stood there, scowling, as Kevin got to his feet, obviously flustered by the censorious look on his employer's face.

  "I've been showing your wife through the plant," he said, "and we came back here for—coffee. Would you like a cup?"

  "No, thank you." Josh's cold gaze had not left Carrie's face.

  Her cheeks felt warm as she reached for her jacket which was hanging over the back of her chair. "I'm scheduled to work a booth at the bazaar," she said hastily, slipping into the jacket and pulling it together in front, for she felt suddenly chilled. "Thanks for the tour, Kevin." She walked toward the door, passing by Josh with a quick glance. "See you at home, Josh."

  Abruptly, he gripped her arm. "I'll walk you outside." When they had reached her car, he turned to her and said furiously, "What are you doing here?"

  "Kevin told you," she replied, pulling free of his grip. "I had some time to pass and took him up on his offer to show me around. I—I have to go now, Josh. I promised Julia Freemont."

  "You made some promises to me, too—our wedding vows," he said through gritted teeth. "Or have you forgotten?"

  "I would hardly forget one of the darkest occasions of my life!" Carrie wrenched open the car door and slid into the driver's seat.

  Josh held the door, preventing her from closing it. "We haven't finished this discussion," he said tensely. "I'll see you tonight." Then he slammed the door and walked back toward the office building.