by Jenny Lykins
"Darlin,' look at me." He stared straight into her sea green eyes. "I have no one in my life but you. I can't tell you why I'm so sure of it, but I am. As for you not being the first, I know you're disappointed but..."
Reed cupped her chin with his index finger. "Little one, I could never be disappointed in you. I'm not concerned about that. It doesn't matter. What I'm concerned about is the possibility of a husband."
She rested her head on his knee and swallowed hard.
"You have to trust me on this, Reed. There's no one but you. Maybe someday I'll be able to have all the answers for you, but right now all I can say is you're the only man in my life."
She raised her head again and looked at him.
"Do you believe that?"
Her eyes were so clear and earnest, he could believe anything she said. He wanted to believe her. Surely she would remember if she had a husband. He was certain, if he ever found that perfect woman, that he would never forget his wife. Perhaps there was another reason why Elise...
"Let's not dwell on a problem that doesn't exist." Elise rose to her feet and began pacing again, ignoring the pain in her throbbing ankle. "The problem is Angeline and what to do about her."
Nothing could be done where Angeline was concerned. If he refused to marry her, she would make their lives miserable. He started to say as much when Elise spun around, her countenance drawn.
"Let's leave. We'll just pack up what we can carry and go start a life together somewhere else. Maybe we'll find my home and family. How would you like that?" Her voice sounded desperate, like she was clinging to a last thread of hope.
She clenched and unclenched the skirt in her hand as she looked at him. Her eyes filled, and she quirked her mouth into a sad smile, as if she already knew what he would say.
"Elise, we can't run away and leave my child to be raised by Angeline. You've said yourself she's a vindictive witch. And you could never respect me if I did such a thing." He shook his head and stared at the floor. "No. We both know I could never walk away from this and leave it unresolved."
She looked up and stared him in the eye. Her voice broke when she spoke again.
"You're right. You'd end up hating me, hating us, and I could never live with that."
Reed turned and stared out the window. If she only knew how low his self-respect was now. If he could only explain why Angeline had him so cornered. But he'd rather marry the shrew than see the look on Elise's face when he told her he'd raped a woman that night after the ball. He could live with self-loathing. But he couldn't bear for Elise to know what he'd done.
She hurt all over. Her ankle throbbed, her stomach was in knots, and a pounding headache built in her temples. But that was all endurable compared to this sensation of having her still-beating heart ripped right out of her chest. She didn't even realize she had her hands pressed over her heart, like one would press near a pain to dull it.
She watched Reed kick, with increasing force, the toe of his boot against the andirons in the fireplace. It was obvious he struggled with some inner demon. Was he agonizing over Angeline or still worrying about the possibility of her having a husband? How ironic that he should be worried about himself.
The decorative brass andirons were beginning to show abuse.
"Mistah Reed! Mistah Reed!" a child's voice called from the back of the house. Before Reed could react, Big John's tiny son, Ambrose, burst into the room, Obiah close on his heels.
"Mistah Reed, Pappy done sent me to fetch you. The new mare be foalin'." He stopped for only a second to catch his breath. "Only nothin' happenin', and Pappy be afeared we gonna lose ‘em both."
Reed squeezed his eyes shut and spoke through clenched teeth. "Thank you, Ambrose. Tell Big John I'm coming."
He stared back into the cold fireplace unseeingly for several seconds. A final, mighty kick sent the grate scraping sideways and scattered the stacked wood into a useless pile.
After a mumbled, "Please excuse me, Elise," he stomped through a set of French doors and headed to the stables, fists clenched and body rigid.
Left alone in the parlor, Elise sank to the love seat and bunched the skirt of her gown into her fists.
What she wouldn't give to have Jan here now. The need for her friend was almost tangible. It surprised her when she realized the only things she missed about the future were her friends. Jan's sympathetic ear and calm assessment of the situation was what she needed right now. No doubt her friend would have raised her spirits, if not given her a perfect idea for fighting back.
She could almost hear Jan now. "Elise, you're not trying hard enough to make this guy remember you. Where's the woman who fought so hard to get into pilot training? Get off your butt and make this man remember you."
Elise argued with Jan in her mind. She made excuses for herself and for Reed, but Jan's voice relentlessly badgered her. She knew the conversation her friend's analytical mind would come up with. Jan always tackled a problem by asking "why" or "why not," then dealt with it according to the answers she came up with.
Yeah, she would probably say something like, "Ok, answer me this, Elise. Why is it Reed was so honor bound in the future that he married you, rather than have sex out of marriage? But yet he didn't appear to live by those same standards in the past, if Angeline is pregnant with his child."
Elise slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. Lord, was she stupid.
That's what had been bothering her; the thing niggling at her brain the few times she'd allowed herself to think about Reed fathering Angeline's child. There had been a grating inconsistency with the whole scenario, but she had stubbornly refused to dwell on the image of Reed with Angeline. She had been an idiot to accept that bitch's word with no more than a token question.
But she still didn't know the story. What she needed to do now was somehow get Reed to tell her what had happened so she could blow holes in it. She needed to find out who else Angeline had been seeing, and who could be the father of this child. Even if Reed felt honor bound not to kiss and tell what happened, she had to make him remember her. That would surely stop this wedding. After all, he was already married.
She jumped up and charged toward the foyer, but a shooting pain in her ankle stopped her dead. She glared at the offending appendage and struggled to overcome the urge to kick something.
"Verda. Just the person I wanted to see."
The little maid was passing the door with an armload of linens when Elise caught sight of her.
"What you need, Miss ‘Lise? You shouldn't be on your feet. Here, I help you back to the..."
"No, no. What I need, Verda, is a strip of fabric, several feet long and about three inches wide. And ask Nell if I can have some ice."
Verda nodded her head so hard, her tignon went askew.
Once the items were brought to her, Elise soaked the strips in ice water and wrapped her ankle with them. This was more like it. The pain wasn't nearly as bad when she put her weight on it.
A flurry of concerned servants met her when she limped over the threshold to the kitchen. She waved away their coddling and ignored the curiosity her presence there caused.
The primitive kitchen conditions overwhelmed her for a moment, but she wasn't daunted for long.
"Tessa, I want you to pack a picnic for Reed and me, but I need to tell you what I want in it."
Much later, when Elise left the kitchen in search of one of the plantation carpenters, Tessa grumbled under her breath, shook her head in denial, and stared after Elise with a worldly-wise frown.
Luther, a young carpenter at Oak Vista, had a frown for her, too, but it was caused by confusion rather than wisdom.
"I knows what you wants, Miz Elise. At least I thinks I do. But that be a mighty tall order to build so quick."
"I know, Luther. Do your best, and if you don't get it finished I'll understand."
Her next move was to send a message to Trahan Hall. Nicholas and Cyprian might be able to help her, if the timing was just right.
<
br /> With the first wave of plans taken care of, all there was left to do was wait for Reed to return from the stables.
*******
He was hungry enough to eat the horse he'd just helped foal. But more than food, he wanted a hot bath to cleanse his body of the slime of stable muck and birthing waters he'd been lying in. His arm ached from spending so much time in the birth canal of a horse. A horse whose contractions were strong enough to crush a man's arm into jelly. From the throb in his muscles, he wondered how in the world a foal managed to be born without broken bones. And in this case it happened to be twins.
He patted himself on the back for the safe delivery while he mounted the rear steps to the house. He'd hoped to avoid meeting anyone while in this aromatic condition, but Elise appeared in the doorway as soon as he stepped onto the back veranda.
"Better stay upwind of me unless you want to ruin your dinner." He stopped in his tracks and waited for her to retreat into the house.
Instead, she stepped onto the porch and headed toward him. When she got within sniffing distance she backed away, screwed up her face and made a cross with her fingers.
"Phew! I see what you mean. You're really potent."
Reed widened his eyes in an "I told you so" look.
"Never mind. Go on up and get cleaned up for dinner. I have something special planned."
Reed's appetite sat up and took notice at her words.
"What...?"
But she simply waved her hands at him with a shooing motion. The next thing he knew she was halfway across the yard to the kitchen.
He massaged his still-throbbing right arm on the way to his rooms. Another surprise awaited him when he found Luther coming out of his dressing room.
"Oh, Mistah Reed, I done finished. I hopes it be what you want. I ain't never built nothing like that afore. I just be gettin' ready to try it out and..."
Reed ignored Luther's anxious words and poked his head around the dressing room door. His brows lowered into a questioning frown at what he saw. He stepped into the doorway and approached the odd looking contraption.
There seemed to be a tall, slender tent erected over his brass hip bath. A sheet of oilskin was tacked to a frame built on wheels, and it hung down into the bath. Above the oilskin was a small barrel on a platform.
He stared for several seconds, then spun around and nailed the grinning servant with his gaze.
"Luther, what in the world is that thing?"
"Miss Elise call it a ‘shower,' Mistah Reed. She done tell me to build it for you. Did I do it wrong?" Luther's initial look of pride began to dissolve into concern. "‘Cause if it ain't right I can fix it."
Reed turned back around to contemplate the thing. What had possessed Elise to have this thing built for him? Where in the world did she get her outlandish ideas?
He realized he couldn't even think straight. Between the events of the night before, his confrontations with Angeline and Elise, and now the hours he'd just spent at the wrong end of a horse, his mind was numb. He shook his head to clear it. The movement stirred an unpleasant draft which snapped him back to his priorities.
He began to peel away his muck-encrusted shirt.
"Ok, Luther, how does this thing work?" Ok? Now I'm beginning to speak like her even when she's not around.
Luther brightened immediately. His white teeth shone in his chocolate brown face. He bounded back into the dressing room, explaining how the thing worked and pointing out that the barrel had already been filled with hot water.
"You see here, Mistah Reed, when you is ready for the water you just slide this here panel and then the water'll come out these little holes I done drilled in the bottom. That panel stops up the holes ‘til you is ready to get rained on."
Luther was so proud of his invention, Reed couldn't help but give him a slap on the back.
"Looks like a job well done, Luther. I'm anxious to try this thing out."
The young carpenter beamed and turned to leave when Reed started shucking the rest of his clothes.
"Oh, Luther."
"Yes, Mistah Reed?"
"Ask Miss Elise to join me in the parlor in about ten minutes."
"Yessir, Mistah Reed. I tells her. She sure one smart lady, ain't she?"
Reed nodded his agreement. "Extraordinarily so." Smarter than any woman he'd ever met. Or, at least she allowed it to show.
Once Reed had piled the stiffening layers of clothing into a heap he stepped into the brass tub and pulled away the panel at the bottom of the barrel.
A wonderful shower of steaming water flowed over him. It felt as if he'd been caught in a hot downpour. The sensation felt so right.
He wondered again where Elise had come from that she would know about such a device. It was all very strange, but what was strangest of all was that it all felt so right.
The warm water produced miracles in washing away his troubling thoughts, as well as the throb in his arm and the filth on his body. Even after all the soap had been rinsed away, he continued to stand under the downpour until the last drop of water had fallen.
It was well over ten minutes before he could dress and arrive at the parlor. He'd just have to apologize to Elise. The "shower" had felt so wonderful, he hadn't been able to hurry.
Elise was waiting for him on the loveseat when he pulled the doors open. The late afternoon sun bathed her with its brilliance, and yellow gold streaks sparkled in her chestnut hair. Her thick mane had been pulled up and pinned at the sides, then left to tumble in big, wavy curls around her shoulders. No other woman he knew dressed, spoke, or wore her hair like Elise. No other woman he knew caused him to breathe faster just by looking at her.
He forgot to apologize for being late, or to even thank her for the shower. He just absorbed the sight of her.
She smiled when she rose, but the look in her eyes was so intense he felt as though he were being worshipped. The fierceness of her love for him emanated from her. They stood, staring at each other; a room, and another woman separating them.
They both seemed to realize this at the same time. Their gaze broke and they cleared their throats and cast about the room uncomfortably for something else to look at.
Reed noticed the basket on the loveseat the same moment his nose detected a delicious aroma. He nodded his head toward the basket.
"What have we here? Is this the special dinner you have planned? It smells wonderful."
Elise nodded and scooped up the basket just a tad too quickly, then headed for the door without looking at Reed. When she finally turned to address him, her smile was much too bright.
"Well, come on, darlin', you've got a picnic dinner getting cold."
He hesitated only a second before taking the hamper and escorting Elise to the front door. Ambrose was waiting with the small carriage, and in minutes the two were on their way.
As they rode he remembered to thank her for the shower and told her how much he'd enjoyed it.
"Not like anything I've ever experienced," he said with a smile. "Do you suppose this is something you're accustomed to, where you're from? Where did you get the idea?"
Elise looked disappointed when she shook her head and said, "I don't know where I got the idea. It just popped into my head. Probably something I experienced before I lost my memory."
He decided her disappointment was from her failing memory.
"Dost thee have a destination in mind, milady?" He tried to keep his tone light and ignore the invisible fist that squeezed his heart every time he looked at her.
"The lady desires her knight errant to take her to the heights..." she hesitated, a wicked grin curved her lips as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. Her next words seemed not to be her first choice. "...where yon river bends, to enjoy the caress of the breeze, if nothing else."
Heat surged across the back of his neck and radiated downward. He nearly slapped the horse into a run.
Two live oaks stood sentinel on the promontory, and Spanish moss hung nearly to the gr
ound in places. Bright patches of sunlight dotted the lush grass where the red checkered tablecloth fluttered to rest.
Elise settled her skirts around her legs and began pulling plates, napkins and wineglasses from the hamper. She swatted his hand away when he tried to help, so he gave up and made himself comfortable while he waited.
He was half-reclined, propped on one elbow, one booted foot planted beside his opposite knee. His muscles relaxed somewhat with the soothing sound of fish plopping in the water, the drone of a nearby bee, the gentle clink of china and crystal.
A warm breeze ruffled his hair and carried the delicious smells from the picnic basket.
The view of Elise's profile was occasionally enhanced when a breeze from the river billowed her hair off her shoulders and away from her face. He could tell by the way she held herself that she knew he was watching her.
It was as if they had agreed not to talk about the events of the last twenty-four hours. His body still tingled with heat from the intensity of last night. But the confrontation with Angeline had left him drained. He needed this time to remove those thoughts so that when he was alone again he could approach the dilemma with a clear head. It was hard to remove those thoughts though, when he couldn't take his eyes off Elise.
She smiled when she reached into the hamper and pulled out a large covered platter. The mouth-watering smells intensified. This didn't smell like any fried chicken he'd ever had. He sat up and eyed the picnic basket with more interest.
She whisked the cover from the platter with a flourish and used it to fan the spicy fragrance toward him. His salivary glands came alive, but he couldn't for the life of him identify the questionable mass before him.
Elise tried not to look too anxious. She'd had to substitute several ingredients and make do with others. She wasn't sure if this was close enough to do the trick.
"It smells wonderful, Elise, but what in the world is it? Tessa's never fixed anything like this before." Reed stared suspiciously at the main course.
"It's call pizza. I, uh, I kept getting this craving, so I finally asked Tessa to fix it. It must be something I used to eat. I don't know any other reason why I would know what it is." She tried to act happy. "Who knows? What with the shower, and now the pizza, maybe my memory's returning."
