by Gayle Roper
He glared and she smiled sweetly. “Did you ever think that it’s not your business?” she asked.
He glowered at her. “Not my business? She’s my mother and—” He stopped himself and went back to skulking.
“And?” she prompted. She knew exactly what he was worried about, but she wanted him to say it aloud so she could rebut.
He scratched his head, clearly unhappy. “Here we all go off to church this morning, you, me, Bill, Mom, even Ted for the first time in who knows how long.”
Leigh saw the brief flash of joy when he spoke of Ted. She wondered if it was for the reconciliation he and Ted were enjoying or for Ted’s improved health. She decided it was for both.
“There we all are,” he continued, the grimness returning, “and what does she do?”
“She being your mother?”
“Who else? She goes off with David without giving us so much as a backward glance.”
“She came back for us.”
He harrumphed. “We were clearly an afterthought.”
Leigh couldn’t resist. The man was just asking for it. She turned her saccharine smile full on him. “Poor boy. How did you ever manage to get through those few seconds without her? You must have suffered terribly from separation anxiety.”
He looked down his nose at her. “Sarcasm is a nasty habit.”
She stuck her index finger in his chest, twisting that lethal nail and taking a piece of his flesh, just like she’d done that first night they’d talked. “So’s interfering in your mother’s private life.”
“A lot you know.” He grabbed her hand to protect himself from losing another divot of prized skin and threaded their fingers together. “Your mom died before you were old enough to accept life’s responsibilities. I’m the eldest son. It’s my duty, my responsibility to protect Mom.”
“Very commendable, but I see no grave dangers lurking about.”
“I do. I mean, did you see the way she acted while we were out at your place?”
Out at her place. She felt her heart soften when she thought of what he had done for her. She barely noticed that he had laced the fingers of her second hand with his.
“He’s a nice man, Clay. I know you haven’t known him long, but take my word for it, okay?”
Clay grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door to the living room. “Just look at them.”
“I will not! That’s spying.”
“Just look, will you?”
It was easier to look than to fight, so she did. She saw Julia and David standing face to face, arms entwined.
“They’re staring at each other,” he muttered in Leigh’s ear.
She backed up, elbowing him in the side and trying to pull him away. “Personally I think it’s sweet.”
He glowered.
“I thought we’d never be alone,” David said softly, but the eavesdroppers heard him.
“I love you,” Julia said softly. “I do.”
Clay stiffened, and Leigh turned her head so he wouldn’t see her smile.
David ran a palm over Julia’s hair. His hand settled on the back of her neck, and he pulled her against him. “I love you too, sweetheart.” And he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him right back.
Clay turned red and made a gurgling sound deep in his throat. Leigh grabbed his arm with the idea of pulling him into the kitchen. “That’s what you get for being a voyeur,” she hissed.
“That’s my mother—my mother!—in there kissing like a teenager.”
“I say three cheers for your mother.” When pulling didn’t move him, she got behind him and pushed. She felt like Sisyphus or whoever it was who pushed the rock up the mountain in the old myth. “You are one big man,” she panted, but she kept pushing right through the kitchen and out the back door. He blinked at the brilliant sunshine.
“You’re a danger to yourself and others,” she muttered as she stopped in the middle of the yard. She folded her arms and fixed him with the stern look that worked so well with fourth graders. He seemed unimpressed. “Let your mother alone, Clay.”
“I was doing fine with the idea that they liked each other, even that they went on dates.” He shuddered. “My mother on dates. What’s the world coming to? But now, sheesh. What if he wants to marry her?”
“What if he does?”
“I don’t want a stepfather.” He glared at her, but she saw in his eyes the hurt beneath the anger.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe she wants a husband?” she asked gently. “That maybe she wants to love and be loved?”
Clay swayed back on his heels like he’d taken a hit. “But I love her, and my brother loves her.”
Leigh rolled her eyes, and he flushed as he heard the foolishness of his comment.
“Of course you and Ted love her,” Leigh said. “So do I. But you know as well as I do that there’s a huge difference between the love we offer and the love and comfort David will give her.”
He dropped his head onto his chest, his eyes closed. Leigh looked at him, this wonderful man who loved his mother and cherished his father’s memory. She reached out a hand and laid it on his arm.
“Clay, the next few months are going to be absolutely terrible for her. If David can help her through them, you should be thanking God for him.”
“I know.” Clay looked at her with sad eyes. “I’d never have predicted how wrenching it is to see them together.”
“You’re struggling because it feels like she’s turning her back on your father.” She patted him gently. “Right?”
He nodded, embarrassed. “I want her memories of Dad to be enough. Selfish of me, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It is. But, Clay, memories won’t keep her warm at night as she lies alone in her big bed.” She grew impassioned, her fingers tightening their hold on his arm. “They won’t give her strength when she’s afraid of the future. They won’t help her when she’s tired of struggling against life all by herself or when she yearns for someone to take her in his arms and make her feel special. They won’t help when she needs someone to be there for her when Ted dies, and when she wants someone to hold her when she cries and love her even when her eyes are red and puffy and—”
Leigh broke off and made a choked sound. She was horrified to realize that she wasn’t talking about Julia anymore. She was talking about herself. It was her own heart she was laying bare, her own soul-deep yearnings she was revealing. She spun away and hurried toward the beach, mortified.
“Leigh!” Clay came after her. “Wait.”
She ignored him, running faster. She had to get away before she said any more, before he realized how truly pathetic and needy she was, needy for him.
She burst out of the dunes and onto the beach just as he grabbed her wrist. She tried to wrench free but he held her fast.
“Let go of me,” she begged, her voice low and unsteady.
“No.” He pulled her toward him, reeling her in like some weak, insignificant fish. Did fish have enough brainpower to despair when they were caught? She hoped not. It hurt too much.
“Look at me, Leigh.”
She refused, giving him her back.
He turned her toward him and wrapped his arms about her, pulling her against him. “Don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you sad.” His voice was thick with emotion.
She stood woodenly in his embrace. “I’m not crying.”
He put his hand under her chin and forced her face up to his. She squeezed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to look at his beautiful face. Tears slid from beneath her lids and rolled to the corners of her mouth. She flicked her tongue out to catch them.
“Oh, Leigh.” He wiped at the tears. She flinched at his gentle touch and tried to jerk free. He wouldn’t let her.
“That was your heart laid bare, wasn’t it?” His voice was soft and tender.
“Of course not.” Her fingers became busy fiddling with his shirt placket and buttons, smoothing the already smooth fabric, a
djusting his collar. “I was talking about your mother.”
He nodded. “Okay. If you say so.”
“I do.” She sniffed, then burst out, “I was doing so well! Then you showed up, and it got so complicated and confusing.”
“How did it get confusing?”
“The past. The present. Oh, just everything.”
“I thought you said you’d forgiven me.”
“I did. I do. I don’t know!”
“If you truly forgave me, then you can’t hold all those years against me. They’re gone forever, sent away to be remembered no more.” His voice was the epitome of sanity and reason, his doctrine irrefutable.
Her eyes snapped up, and she glared at him. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do. You haven’t the right. I can hold those years against you if I want.”
She saw an answering flare in his eyes. “So I’m not allowed to be upset about Mom, but you’re allowed to be upset about me forever?”
She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. He’d skewered her through the heart. She simply stared stonily at his middle button while tears continued to run down her cheeks. All she wanted was to put her head on his shoulder. All she wanted was to love him and have him love her for real and forever. All she wanted was what Julia and David had apparently found.
For just a moment a shaft of jealously shot through her. Julia had found two wonderful men to love her, and Leigh couldn’t even trust the one she wanted, the one who was thoughtful enough to fix up her derelict house, the one whose arms felt so right, the one who had left her to struggle alone for eleven long years. It wasn’t fair!
Before these thoughts were even fully formed, shame washed over her in great waves.
Oh, God, I’m such a terrible person! Forgive me.
“Leigh, say something. Talk to me. I want to help, but you’ve got to tell me what’s wrong.”
He was back to being nice! She was dying here, and he was hastening her demise with his niceness. She rested her forehead on his chest, letting her shoulders slump.
Oh, God, I’m so scared!
“Talk to me, woman,” Clay said softly, one hand running up and down her back, so soothing, so sweet.
She sniffed and raised her face to his. “Now just see what you’ve done.”
He blinked his bewilderment.
She gasped for breath. “You made me cry, and my nose is all stopped up, and I can’t breathe.”
“And that’s my fault?”
“Well, it certainly isn’t mine.”
He began to smile.
“And just what’s so funny?”
“You.” And he leaned over and kissed her.
She gasped again from surprise, pleasure, and lack of oxygen.
He kissed her a second time.
Without conscious thought she leaned into him like she always did when he kissed her. He was a danger to the environment, she thought distractedly, the way he caused instant meltdown.
She pushed against him when she was out of breath. He released her immediately and took a step back. “It’s all right, Leigh. It was only a kiss.”
Only a kiss? “I couldn’t breathe,” she explained. Only a kiss? It was her life flashing in front of her, like she was drowning, going down for the third time—which metaphorically speaking she probably was.
He searched through his pockets and pulled out a square of material that he passed to her. She blew her nose. Such a sweet ladylike sound. He ran a knuckle across her cheek, and she felt her eyes slide shut. She lowered her head so he couldn’t see. She turned to go home.
“Walk with me, Leigh,” he asked, catching her arm. “Please. We have so much more to talk about.”
She knew the truth of what he said. She’d been so cautious around him for days, careful to keep any conversation surface, and the issues that throbbed in the air between them hadn’t lessened in the interim. If anything, they’d intensified.
In silence she turned and walked across the sand to the water-line. He followed. They turned and began walking toward the bay. Somehow he had gotten hold of her hand again, his grip sure, steady, delightful.
“This week has been the most bewildering week of my life,” he finally said. “My conflicting feelings about Ted, my confusion over Mom and David, my discovering who Bill is.” He stopped and looked at her. “But you have been the cause of more emotional chaos than I’ve ever experienced in my life.”
She smiled sadly as she studied the horizon. There was a perverse satisfaction in knowing that this week had been as hard for him as it had for her. It served him right. She sighed. It served her right.
“Love, please look at me.” There was desperation in his voice.
Her eyes flew to his. He had called her love, and he didn’t even seem to realize he’d said it. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
“If I felt terrible when I thought all I did was steal your virginity, imagine how I feel now?” He brought a hand up and twirled one of her curls around his finger. He studied the curl intently for a minute. Then his eyes fixed on hers. “How can I ask you to trust me, to love me after what I did to you?”
He wanted her to love him, to trust him? She knew she loved him, and she wanted desperately to trust him. “Clay, you scare me.”
He stared in appalled disbelief.
“Not that I think that you’d ever willfully hurt me,” she hastened to say. “Never. I know that. But I gave you my heart once, and you rejected it. No, you didn’t even bother to reject it. You ignored it.”
He began to speak, but she put a hand on his mouth. “I forgive you for that. I do. I can say that before God and mean it. Having you around has confused me in many ways, but I know I’ve given up any desire to get even or to make you suffer. We were young. We were stupid. We were wrong. But it’s over, long over. I’ve gone on. You’ve gone on.” She searched his face. “But I don’t think I could stand that pain again, which is why you scare me, especially since my love is so much deeper now than it ever was then.”
His eyes brightened, and he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you saying you love me?”
With a sinking heart she realized she had revealed much more than she had ever intended. And she understood in that moment that it wasn’t Clay she feared after all. It was herself: her emotions, her ability to deal with loss, even her confidence that God was big enough to get her through the coming destruction of all her dreams.
God, forgive me! I believe; help my unbelief!
She wrenched herself free from Clay’s hold and turned to run. Tears filled her eyes and blinded her. She took two steps and stumbled right into one of Clooney’s spade holes. She felt her ankle give and went down with a muffled scream.
Thirty-three
CLAY’S HEART TUMBLED right along with Leigh. He fell to his knees beside her. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
Her face was too pale, and she held her ankle. “Just twisted it, I think.”
“You’d better not put any weight on it until you get it checked. I’ll carry you home.” He reached for her.
She waved him away. “I’m not hurt that badly. I’m sure I can walk. Just help me get up.”
“Why don’t I call David, and he can check you before you move? I’m sure he’s still up at the house.”
“Don’t you dare embarrass me like that!” She held out her hands. “Come on. Pull.”
Foolish, strong-minded woman. Unhappy, he grasped both her wrists and pulled. She tried to rise but gasped in pain as she put weight on her foot. She sank back onto the sand.
“Let me see.” He pushed her hands aside and ran his fingers lightly over the injured area. He couldn’t feel anything that indicated a break, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.
“It just crunched,” she said. “I heard it. It didn’t break.”
Crunch, eh? Not a good sign. “That’ll teach you to try and run away from me,” he said and felt pleased when she smiled slightly at his poor attempt at humor.
�
�I can’t have a break. It’s too cumbersome at school.”
Together they stared at the ankle, already swelling.
“Stupid spade holes of Clooney’s.” Clay needed some way to release the fear he’d felt when she went down and the distress that she was hurt. The spade holes were a safe target. “I’ve got to have a talk with him.”
“Like it’s his fault I didn’t look where I was going.”
Knowing full well whose fault that was, Clay rose quickly in an effort to distract her. “Come on. Let’s get you up to the house and get some ice on that.”
Suddenly a short, slight man was on his knees beside them. Clay blinked. Where had he materialized from? He wore glasses and had a bald spot he was having trouble keeping covered with the hair he combed from ear to ear, largely because the wind was having a wonderful time scattering the long strands in spite of the gallons of hair spray he’d undoubtedly used.
“Is she all right?” he asked Clay. He turned a concerned face to Leigh. “Are you all right? I saw you fall, and then I saw you couldn’t get up. I was afraid you were hurt bad.”
Leigh smiled at the man. “I’m fine. I think it’s only a sprain.”
The man looked relieved.
“I just live up there.” She pointed to the house. “And Clay will get me home.”
The man looked at Clay and nodded. “He looks strong enough to do the job.”
Clay took one of Leigh’s arms, and the man took the other. They lifted her to her feet, careful not to bump the injured foot. She stood with her weight on the uninjured leg, wobbling slightly.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” the man asked.
Leigh nodded. “Thanks for your concern. It was very nice of you to care.”
The man flushed bright red.
“I am going to carry you home,” Clay announced, giving Leigh a stern look. “And no sass, lady.”
“No sass,” she agreed.
He kissed her cheek, then lifted her with one arm around her back and the other beneath her knees. She rested her head against him, and Clay was touched by the trust inherent in that move. Maybe she had more faith in him than she realized. Oh, Lord, please let that be so. He strode toward the path through the dunes.
