by Sandra Brown
the choice was taken away from her several hours later when a deputy sheriff
pounded on the front door.
All afternoon the rain had continued to beat down. The wind had increased in
velocity. The storm gave no evidence of abating. In fact, the weather experts
keeping an eye on Betty predicted that it would be one of the worst hurricanes of
recent history.
"Sorry, Mr. Paden," the deputy shouted over the howling winds. Rainwater
dripped from the wide brim of his hat. He was covered from chin to ankles in a
yellow slicker. "Looks like we're gonna bear the brunt of this one. Everybody's got
to get out. You have half an hour before I come back."
"We'll be gone," James grimly promised.
Closing the door, he turned to face Laura, who was standing behind him in the
entrance hall. "Do you want to take anything with you?"
She was willing to sacrifice her life, not for the salvation of 22 Indigo Place, but for
the salvation of her marriage. Time! Why hadn't she been granted more time? If
only she'd had another day, a week, a month, she might have made James love
her. As it was, she was being forced to throw in the towel before the last bell. The
fight was over.
The starch went out of her and her whole body sagged with defeat. "No, I don't
want to take anything with me."
Nothing tangible had value anymore. God, what a fool she'd been to place so
much value on things. Property. Lineage. From the cradle she'd been taught to
treasure all that, but she should have been wise enough to figure out long ago that
people were so much more valuable than things. Than pride. Than reputation.
That was why she had never married, never really loved. She'd never given anyone
priority over a piece of ground and a house. Until James. She was learning the
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lesson the hard way, by having to sacrifice the one she loved most dearly.
They took only the time necessary to collect toilet articles and put a change of
underwear into an overnight bag. James brought the car around and pulled it up
near the porch. Laura closed the front door of the house and laid her palm against
the cool wood. It was like placing her hand on the heart of a loved one, fearing
that at any moment it was going to stop beating.
At last, sniffing back her tears, she turned and ran down the steps to the car.
* * *
Glass crunched under James's boot heels. "It's worse than I thought," he said,
bending down to pick up a piece of the priceless chandelier that had once hung
over the dining-room table.
He looked angry. He hurled the piece of crystal down, and it shattered on the pile
of debris at his feet. Laura, watching him, swallowed her despair and turned away.
The previous forty-eight hours had been a nightmare. The drive to Macon had
been one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of her life. The bumper-tobumper
traffic had been further impeded by the rain. Frightened people just like
her had been fleeing their homes, wondering if they would have a home to return
to after Betty took her toll.
They had found the others already safely tucked into the small motel room. There
wasn't another vacant room in Macon. Chivalrously James and Bo had offered to
sleep in the cars, leaving the room to the ladies. Laura got very little sleep that
first night. Mandy, who had shared her bed, kicked like a young colt; Gladys
snored; Leona made moaning sounds. But worry was mostly responsible for
keeping Laura's eyes open.
Her worst fears were realized the following morning when the newspapers and
television reported that Gregory had been hit hard by the hurricane. The very eye
of the storm had passed over the town, so it had sustained the whip-lashing winds
and rain twice. Several tornadoes had been spawned and had left swaths of
destruction in their wakes. Through the endless day, they monitored the
newscasts.
Not for another twenty-four hours, until the floodwaters had receded and it was
deemed safe, were they permitted to return to Gregory. James had decided to
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leave the others in Macon. So that they would be more comfortable, he got
another motel room as soon as one became available.
"Until I know what the situation is at home, you're better off here," he had told the
dejected group. "We'll be in touch as soon as we know something." Before he and
Laura left for Gregory, he pressed money into Bo's hand, kissed his mother and
Mandy, and commissioned Gladys to take care of them.
Their return trip had been essentially silent. Speculating on how much damage
Indigo Place might have sustained was pointless. As they neared the coast, signs
of devastation had prepared them for the worst.
Laura's heart had leaped with gladness when they drove through the gate and she
saw that the exterior walls of the house were still standing. Of course there was an
ugly line on the white painted brick that marked how high the muddy floodwaters
had risen. A portion of the roof had been blown off and the windows broken out,
but the structure was still there.
But now James's mumbled curses did little to revive her flagging spirits. As he
surveyed the storm damage, he was no doubt thinking that he had made a bad
investment. He had gambled a small fortune on Indigo Place and it hadn't paid
off. It would take another small fortune to have the house cleaned and repaired,
not even taking into account the heirloom furnishings that would have to be
replaced. Insurance would cover some, but not all, of the loss.
And, realistically, why should he bother? Why go to all that trouble and expense
now that it was no longer necessary? He had achieved his goal. The town that had
scorned him was lying in the palm of his hand. He had accomplished what he had
set out to do. He had proved himself worthy of its respect. If he were going to sink
a fortune into a house, it could be in Atlanta or anywhere else in the world. It no
longer had to be in Gregory.
When he left, would he offer to take her with him? Laura wondered. That was the
question uppermost in her mind. She had served her purpose. He had married her
for her name and her address. He didn't need them any longer, and they wouldn't
amount to a hill of beans outside Gregory County. What they shared in bed he
could find anywhere with countless other women.
"I'm going to check the stables." She hurried away before he could see the tears
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welling in her eyes or hear the giveaway gruffness in her voice.
She waded through the sea of mud, heedless of her boots and the hem of her
jeans. It broke her heart to see one of the main branches of a live oak severed from
the majestic trunk that had withstood storms for over a century. The pier James
had put so many hours into repairing was gone. But that didn
't hurt nearly as
much as the heartache of having to give up James and Mandy.
Twenty-two Indigo Place was destructible. Testimony to its impermanence lay
everywhere she looked. But her love for James would never die. Indigo Place was
her past. He was her future.
She entered the shadowed stables, which, miraculously, had been left intact.
Water had flooded the huge barn, but she climbed the ladder to the hayloft, which
was still dry and fragrant. She lay down on an old blanket, curled her body into a
tight, protective ball, and wept.
"Laura?"
She didn't know how long she had been crying, but sat bolt upright at the sound of
James's voice. She wiped her tear-streaked face with the backs of her hands. "Up
here," she called down.
A weak, late-afternoon sun was seeping through the shingled roof. Dust motes
danced in the faint golden light. The stables smelled musty and damp, but not
unpleasantly so.
"I couldn't find you anywhere," James eased himself up through the trap door.
"I used to come here often when I needed to be alone to think."
"Or to cry," he said bluntly, dropping down beside her.
She lowered her eyes. "Aren't I entitled to? Just a little?"
"I guess so."
He sounded distant, hostile, and Laura held her silence. When she could bear the
tension no longer, she asked, "What are your plans?"
He draped his arms loosely over his raised knees. He was chewing on a straw, and
moved it from one corner of his lips to the other. "I guess we'll start with the roof
to make the house weather-tight again. I think we'll need a cleaning crew to come
in— What's the matter?" He had noticed her expression. Her face was blank with
surprise.
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"You – you're going to restore Indigo Place?"
"Hell, yes. What else? Do you think we could live in it the way it is?"
She swallowed quickly. "Then you plan to go on living here?"
"We'll have to rent something in town until the reconstruction is finished." He was
using plural pronouns. Laura's heart began to pound with hope. Again he noticed
her stunned expression, and took immediate offense. "What's the matter? Don't
you trust me to do the reconstruction right? Afraid I'll mess up your family's
estate?"
Tears shone in her eyes. She shook her head. "No. It's not that. I didn't think you'd
do the reconstruction at all."
He studied her for a moment. "Care to explain why you would think such a thing?"
"Indigo Place was the reason you married me. Now that it's gone and you don't
need me anymore—"
She never got to finish. He yanked hard on her arm and pulled her across his lap,
until she was reclining on his thighs and his face was close to hers as he bent over
her. "Don't need you anymore? Baby, I need you in a way I didn't think it was
possible to need anybody, especially a woman. "
He bracketed her jaw with one strong hand, tilted her head back, and ground a
rapacious kiss onto her mouth. They hadn't touched each other since the night of
the party and they were slightly crazed from sexual deprivation. Laura's body
immediately wilted from the heat of his. She greedily returned his kiss and
clasped his head between her hands.
When they finally fell apart, they were breathless. "What do you mean, I don't
need you?" he demanded. "Can't you feel it? Can't you see it in my eyes every time
I look at you? I stay hungry for you. "
"You wanted my name, my position in the community."
"At first, yes. I came to town with every intention of buying Indigo Place and
wooing you into marriage for exactly the reason you said. But I don't care now if
you picked cotton for a living. I want you." He held her head pressed between his
hands, almost hurtfully, and delved into her eyes with his. "Why were you crying
all afternoon? Because you thought you had lost Indigo Place?"
He allowed her enough leverage to shake her head. "Because I thought that losing
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it would mean losing you. You are what I couldn't bear to part with. The house is
dispensable. You're not."
He seared the walls of the loft with swear words. They could have passed as
prayers. "There was no chance in hell of your losing me, Miss Laura." He lowered
his head to her breasts and pressed hot, damp kisses through her blouse. "Why do
you think I've been trying my damnedest to get you pregnant? Baby, I've been
hoping that I'd make a baby in you. I wanted a guarantee that you wouldn't walk
out on me."
She moaned beneath the sweet assault of his mouth and returned his kisses with a
fervor he had taught her. "Then why have you been acting so angry? I was afraid
you considered Indigo Place and me a bad investment."
"No, no." He rubbed the words into her neck with his lips. "I was angry because
you were so upset over the storm and worried about the house. I wanted you to
care more for Mandy and me than you did for it."
"Oh, James, I do! Didn't you realize that?" She pulled on his hair until he raised
his head. "I'm a fool for not telling you something I've known for a long time." She
hesitated.
"Well?"
"I love you."
He grew very still. "You do?"
"I was always infatuated with you. Even before that night you rescued me from
those boys and brought me home on your motorcycle. You attracted me because I
knew you were something I could never have. Then, when you came back to town
… well, it started all over again. You made me restless, and I thought it was just
that infatuation starting all over again. But weeks ago I realized that the
infatuation had turned into love."
He brushed the loose strands of hair away from her face. "I love you, too, Laura.
I'm rotten to the core. No sense in pretending otherwise. And you're such a lady,
an aristocrat. I thought you'd scoff at me if I told you how I feel about you, so I
didn't risk it. But I'm telling you now. I love you."
She touched his face, loving the brooding sulkiness of his mouth, the insolence in
his eyes, loving most his vulnerability. He had revealed this susceptible part of
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himself only to her, and that was a true testament of his love. "You're not nearly
the bad boy you pretend to be, James Paden."
"Keep my secret?"
"Promise."
Stillness surrounded them as they slowly began to remove their clothes. The sun
was setting. The shadows in the loft were penetrating, though a few fiery rays
burned through the cracks in the shingles overhead like tiny spotlights. The stable
was redolent with the smell of hay and earth, rain and flesh.
Naked, they knelt on the blanket facing each other, touching only with their lips.
Then his hands covered her breasts and massaged them lovingly.
"Have my baby?"
"Yes, yes."
"When it comes, can I taste your milk?"
He lowered his head. His breath was soft, but rapid. His mouth was gentle, but
erotic.
Sighing with pleasure, she separated her knees. "Touch me."
He did, pressing his open hand over her mound, then sliding it between her
thighs. His thumb was breathtakingly knowledgeable.
She reached for him. Beneath her questing fingers he was hard and smooth and
warm and already brimming with passion.
They caressed each other into a glorious frenzy.
Seconds before the tumult came, he lifted her astride his lap and impaled her.
Much later, their bodies were dewy with perspiration as they lay facing each other,
replete and languid. "I love you," she whispered, tracing his sullen lower lip with
her fingernail.
"I love you."
She kissed him, a dry, quick, fleeting kiss, and moved to get up.
He caught her wrist. "Where do you think you're going?"
Hay was clinging to the tangles in her hair. Her mouth had been rouged by his
ardent kisses. She looked at him with china-blue eyes belonging to a woman
thoroughly besotted with her lover. Her whole body was rosy with the aftermath
of satisfying lovemaking.
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"I – I thought we'd dress and go into town … find a place to spend the night …
look for…"
Her voice trailed off. The corner of his mouth was curving into a suggestive smile.
He looked up at her with drowsy, heavy-lidded eyes. His sultry expression could
have talked an angel out of her wings. And more.
"No way, baby. I just discovered that I do some of my best work in the hay."
Then, hooking his hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her down again.
* * * *
f
