Standing Bear's Surrender

by Peggy Webb

  “And of mine,” Sarah said softly.

  Jim felt the glow all the way to his bones. Did it show? Did his brother notice?

  He wasn’t long in finding out. As soon as Sarah excused herself, Ben sat back in his chair and laughed.

  “She’s a terrific woman. Outclasses Bethany Lawrence by a country mile. Congratulations, big brother.”

  “For what?”

  “You’ve picked a winner this time.”

  “Look, Ben, it’s not what you think. We’re neighbors and good friends and…”

  “And?”

  “The rest is none of your business.”

  “Yes, it is. If she’s going to be my sister-in-law, I have a perfect right to pry.”

  “You’re way off base, Ben. I told you we’re just very good friends.”

  “All I can say is it’s a damned good thing you’re so handsome because I certainly got all the brains in the family.”

  After lunch the three of them went to the zoo, and just as they parted company it began to rain.

  “I’ll get a cab,” Jim said.

  “I love this.” Sarah lifted her face and raindrops caught in her eyelashes. “Can we walk awhile in the rain, Jim?”

  “For you, anything.”

  That’s what he had wanted to do anyway. Leaning down he kissed the raindrops off her face, and then because she was so close and so appealing, he took possession of her rain-slicked lips.

  He’d meant it to be a brief kiss, but it turned into a passionate embrace that lasted until they were both soaked. They clung to each other, then joined hands and walked down St. Charles Avenue laughing.

  “Oh, look, Jim. There’s a streetcar. Can we ride?”

  “It must be the one called desire.”

  She gazed at him, radiant and flushed, and he kissed her again before swinging her aboard the car. The only other passenger was an old man holding a small dog that matched his long red beard.

  Jim and Sarah sat in the back of the car holding hands. He wondered how life could possibly get better. Laughing up at him, she licked a drop of rain off her lips, and he leaned over to whisper, “I know a wonderful way to spend the rest of a rainy afternoon.”

  “Oh,” she said, with a sigh.

  His heart swelled three times its size, and by the time they got back to their hotel, he was wondering how he’d ever managed to get through the last few hours without making love to her.

  He’d wanted her in the restaurant, watching her eat shrimp scampi. He’d wanted her in the zoo watching her delight over the baby giraffe. He’d wanted her in the rain, waiting for the streetcar. Wanted her desperately.

  He started kissing her when they were barely inside the room. She leaned against the wall, breathless and glowing.

  “I can’t wait another minute, Sarah.”

  “Please don’t wait, Jim.”

  So polite. Such a lady.

  And such a delicious hoyden.

  He peeled away the bit of hampering lace, then lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around him and he slid home.

  Much later he held her still braced against the wall, and leaned his damp forehead against hers.

  “You drive me wild, Sarah.”

  “I’ve never driven a man wild.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He carried her into the bathroom where he tenderly stripped away the rest of her clothes, then his own.

  “Are you ready for your bath, m’lady?”

  “Only if the tub will hold two.”

  “It’ll be a tight squeeze.”

  “Good.”

  “Minx.”

  They waited until the tub was brimming with hot water, then Sarah added bubble bath. Jim climbed in behind her and after much to-do they arranged their long legs so that she was mostly in the tub and only part of him draped over the edges.

  Jim bathed Sarah with tender care, then he shampooed her hair.

  “I’ve never been so pampered in my life.” She swiveled around and kissed him softly on the lips. “You are the most wonderful man in the world.”

  Too full to reply, he dried her with a fluffy towel, then wrapped her in the white terry-cloth robe provided by the hotel and carried her to bed.

  “Rest now,” he said.

  And she curled against him, fragrant and sweet. Within minutes he could hear the even tone of her breathing. He pressed a tender kiss on her forehead, filled with wonder that holding a sleeping woman should feel so right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She and Jim were having breakfast at Brennan’s, and if a dining experience could be called erotic, this was it. Food so rich that one bite was enough to satisfy a full-blown case of hunger and two bites seemed excessive. Not a single artificial ingredient on the menu. Real butter, thick cream, orange juice freshly squeezed then laced with enough alcohol to put a buzz in Sarah’s head.

  She was beginning to feel very selfish and more than a little scared. For three days she’d lived in a fantasy world. Jim pampered her, treated her to meals at the finest restaurants, accompanied her on every sightseeing trip her heart desired. But best of all, he acted as if his appetite for loving was as insatiable as her own.

  She felt like a bride. Almost, she could believe she was on her honeymoon.

  What was going to happen when they left New Orleans? How was she going to handle reality?

  “Jim, I need to talk to you.”

  A look of alarm flitted across his face. “What’s wrong?”

  She quickly covered his hands with hers. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  She smiled at him, loving the way he smiled back, loving the way his dark eyes glowed when he looked at her.

  “Everything is wonderful, perfect,” she said.

  So perfect she was afraid of waking up in her own bed and being told she’d been in a coma and everything she’d thought to be true was merely a dream.

  “I’m glad, Sarah. I wanted everything to be good for you.”

  “It is, Jim. You’ve made it that way.”

  He kissed her fingertips, one by one, and a familiar flame leaped into his eyes. Sarah’s heart melted, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him she loved him.

  “What do you want to do today, Sarah?” His smile became mischievous. “In addition to the obvious.”

  Flushed by love and uncertainty, Sarah pushed her hair back from her hot face. The hair Jim so lovingly shampooed every day.

  She wanted to grab his hand and race back to their room and lock the door against the world for the rest of the day. The rest of the year. The rest of her life.

  “I’ve been very selfish,” she said. “You haven’t spent a minute alone with your brother.”

  “He’s not feeling deprived, and neither am I. He likes you and enjoys your company.”

  “I’m glad. I feel the same about him. Still, I want to give the two of you some time alone.”

  “What will you do, Sarah?”

  Be lost without you.

  “Stroll the Quarter, plunder the antique shops, things like that. Don’t worry about me, Jim. I’ll be fine without you.”

  He looked puzzled and even a little hurt, she thought. Sarah took his hand and planted a tender kiss in his palm.

  “But not as fine as I am with you, Jim. I want you to know that.”

  “She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever known,” Jim said after he’d recounted Sarah’s conversation to his brother, leaving out the intimate parts.

  They were sitting in the Café du Monde having beignets and café au lait and enjoying the breeze that had sprung up over the river.

  “That’s why I want to do something special for her,” he added.

  “How special? Give her a ring, maybe?”

  Jim gave Ben a dark look meant to quell, but his brother only laughed.

  “It’s about damned time you settled down, big brother. I’m wanting some family.”

  “What do you think I am, a turnip?”

  “A stubbor
n, clueless man. I just hope you don’t wait too long.”

  “Too long for what?”

  “Somebody else is liable to grab her, you know.”

  “I don’t know why I ever tell you anything.” Jim felt grouchy and he didn’t even know why. “Are you going to help me with Sarah’s surprise, or not?”

  “What kind of surprise?” Ben asked, and Jim told him.

  If Sarah had looked across Jackson Square she might have seen Ben and Jim, but she was intent on her mission. Standing outside the St. Louis Cathedral she felt both awed and humbled. If God couldn’t hear her petitions in this establishment, then there was just no sense praying, she decided.

  Taking a lace-edged handkerchief from her purse, she covered her head, then went inside. Coolness and a great echoing silence enveloped her. The church smelled of the musty relics of long-dead saints, incense and sincerity.

  Not being Catholic, Sarah passed the holy water by and went directly to the altar. The wonderful thing about these grand old cathedrals was that they encouraged the petitioner to look up where she imagined God would be.

  With her eyes turned toward gilded angels and ancient protectors, Sarah murmured her prayers. Then she went to a bank of glowing votives and lit two candles, one for love and one for healing. As she left the church and stepped into the sunshine it occurred to her that they were one and the same.

  “How was your day?” Jim asked when they met back at the room.

  “Great.” Sarah pulled a top hat from her shopping bag. “Look. I found this for Dad. His other one is getting frayed.”

  “It makes me want to dance the old soft shoe.”

  Jim put it on his head, and danced around the room. At least, he tried to. He’d never been much of a dancer.

  Sarah laughed and clapped, and that was enough reward for Jim. He was feeling good about the surprise he and Ben had cooked up for her, although it wasn’t what he’d intended.

  “You want what?” they’d shouted at him when he made his request. “Impractical. Impossible. Certainly not on this short notice.”

  So Jim had tucked that dream of Sarah’s into his back pocket and gone on to plan B. He never stopped to question why he wanted to make her dreams come true. One look at her standing across the room with her eyes shining and her skin glowing was answer enough.

  Jim tossed the top hat onto the dresser and held out his arms.

  “Come here.” Smiling, she moved into his arms, and he nuzzled his face against her hair. “I haven’t seen you all day. It’s been too long.”

  “Oh, Jim, for me, too.”

  She lifted her face to his and he started kissing her. One quick kiss before dinner, he promised himself. Just a taste to tide him over.

  With Sarah, once was never enough. Moaning, he cupped her hips and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Desire came so quickly, an urgent hunger that heated his blood until he lost all reason.

  Locked in each other’s arms, they moved irrevocably toward the bed.

  “I want to please you, Jim,” Sarah whispered.

  “You do. Always.”

  He could tell how pleased she was, and wished he could say more. He wished he could say, “You please me more than any woman I’ve known,” but that would sound too much like a commitment.

  As wonderful as she was, as intelligent, as sweet, as desirable, he couldn’t possibly make promises. He didn’t know what his own future held, let alone the future of someone else.

  The thought made him unutterably sad, and when Sarah looked into his face, concerned and asking what was wrong, he told her nothing.

  Then to show that he meant it he reached for her and began to kiss her again.

  “Nothing you can’t cure,” he murmured.

  Her sigh of contentment was his reward. She lifted herself on her elbows and traced his face with her fingertips.

  “Jim, will you do something for me?”

  “Anything within my power.”

  “Show me what you like. Everything.” She blushed. “Don’t hold anything back.”

  Passion was a comet streaking through him, and as he began his instructions, he knew they’d never make it to dinner.

  When Sarah woke up the sun was already shining through the French doors and Jim was nowhere to be seen. Alarmed, she threw back the covers and that’s when she saw the makeshift diploma on his pillow. Sarah Sloan, Ph.D. in the Art of Love, the letters proclaimed.

  She clutched it to her chest and laughed until tears rolled down her face.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  Jim appeared from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.

  “I never knew this much happiness was possible,” she said. She was very close to declaring her love, then something in his face warned her not to go on. Jim looked dark and troubled.

  What’s wrong? was on the tip of her tongue, but the way he held himself so aloof and erect warned her against that, too.

  “Today is Ben’s graduation,” he said, and Sarah’s heart sank.

  Today was their last day in New Orleans.

  “I’d better get dressed,” she said, then hurried from the room before he could see her tears.

  Ben graduated at the top of his class. Sarah couldn’t have been more thrilled if he had been her own brother, and she told him so. Wrapping her in a bear hug, he whispered, “Thanks, sis,” then leaned back and winked at her as if the two of them had shared a great secret.

  Sarah’s heart broke a little. More than anything in the world she wanted what Ben said to be true: she wanted to have the right to be called his sister. The chances of that were not good, and getting worse every minute.

  From the time they woke up this morning, she’d felt Jim pulling back. He’d acted the same. Or tried to. But she’d seen the same misgivings in his face that she felt in her heart. The same big question.

  What would happen next with them?

  The three of them spent the rest of the day together, walking and talking and laughing. Night came all too soon.

  Her last night with Jim. Sarah felt the press of tears against her eyes, and she sought valiantly to hold them back.

  “Close your eyes, Sarah, I have something for you,” Jim said when they got back to the room, and for a thrilling moment she thought it might be a ring.

  “Okay, you can open them now.”

  He was holding an enormous box. Much too big for a ring. Unless, of course, there was a series of smaller boxes inside.

  Funny, Sarah thought, how hope refuses to die.

  “Open it, Sarah.”

  She dawdled with the ribbon, stalled over the tape, dithered lifting the lid. The longer she waited, the longer her dream stayed alive.

  Finally there was nothing else she could do to prolong seeing the contents without looking like a complete idiot. She lifted the lid, and there was the most spectacular dress she’d ever seen, a soft pink confection with a skirt like moonbeams and a scarf that would float from her bare shoulders like something worn by Isadora Duncan.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. And she meant it. She held it against her, and saw immediately that it was a dress made for dancing.

  She might have protested that it was much too expensive a gift, that she didn’t deserve it, that she had nothing with which to reciprocate. She might even have viewed it as a payoff for the five days, if she were that kind of woman.

  But she wasn’t. Thank goodness. She accepted his gift in the spirit he had offered. With grace and charm. She hoped.

  “Will you wear it tonight, Sarah?”

  “I wouldn’t think of wearing anything else.”

  Ben picked them up at eight. He whistled when he saw Sarah.

  “Hey, Jim, why don’t you stay home tonight, then folks will think I’m with this gorgeous creature?”

  “Charm runs in the Standing Bear family,” Sarah said, but she was extraordinarily pleased.

  Tomorrow she would leave this city behind, but she had tonight. She had Jim on one arm and his brother on
the other, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way of enjoying her last hoorah in New Orleans.

  Jim didn’t tell her where they were going. Instead he kept saying, “Wait and see.” Sarah could tell from his face how excited he was. Ben, too. They kept exchanging smug glances.

  “What is this?” she said.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Jim said. “It’s a surprise.”

  When she heard the band, she knew. It was a swing band, playing the songs that made folks want to dance. Even before she saw it, she knew there was a dance floor inside, something covered with shiny parquet and high above, shimmering shiny balls sending showers of silver from the ceiling.

  Her heart’s rhythm increased and her palms felt dry.

  “Here we are.” Jim swept her into the room, and for a minute she thought he was going to say, “Ta Dah!” That’s how pleased he looked.

  Her heart climbed to her throat, and she thought she was going to faint. All the old memories swam to the surface, the old pain.

  Sarah had not danced in public since her humiliation in New York. Dancing in the garden was different. There was no one around to say, “Look how plain she is. She’ll never make it. She should go home where she belongs.”

  Jim couldn’t know, of course. And he never would.

  “Do you like it, Sarah?” he asked, and she lied. She would tell a thousand lies to keep him from knowing how the sight of that dance floor terrified her.

  “Yes.” She even managed a smile. “It’s a beautiful place, and the band is great.”

  He’d reserved a table near the dance floor. They ordered drinks, then sat talking and enjoying the band.

  Maybe that’s enough, she thought. Just listening to the band.

  Jim leaned toward her when they played the “Tennessee Waltz.”

  “Sarah, I’m not much of a dancer, but I would love to have this dance with you.”

  She saw a vision of herself as an object of public ridicule. And then she saw Jim…really saw him.

  His nobility was shining through. His courage. His steadfastness. Here was the man who had walked for her. How could she refuse to dance for him?