by Eliana West
Chapter Nineteen
Jo leaned against the door watching Taylor show Adam how to create a template to re-create a piece of missing molding. Adam was splitting his time between working with Jacob and helping at Halcyon.
With Tessa out of the picture, work became fun again. Taylor was able to focus on the restoration work that he loved and a sense of peace settled over the house and the people working there.
Taylor looked at the sketch Adam made and nodded his approval. He was a good teacher. Adam had arranged for him to give a lecture at the trade school the week before and he’d been invited back to speak again next month. The house was alive with activity again. Sam and Minh were back. The kitchen cabinets were installed now and the countertops were due to arrive tomorrow.
The historians they had invited to look at the hidden room had made several visits and they were working on a preservation plan to ensure everything in the room would remain the way it had been found and could be displayed safely for future generations.
They were also contacted by the head of the archeology department at Emory who had a group of students who were interested in doing a dig around the slave quarters. Jo had been worried about how Taylor would react to the idea of having the past literally dug up. But he wholeheartedly supported the idea.
Chloe had asked to help and she divided her time between working with Jo and Dax and working as Taylor’s assistant again. Things between Taylor and Tessa were still messy and very ugly. Taylor spent a good portion of his days talking with his lawyers and Jo was worried about the toll it was taking on him.
Dylan stopped by every day offering to help out but Jo knew he was checking in on his brother and was just as worried as she was.
“Try to get him to eat more if you can,” he said that evening on his way out.
“I will. I’m worried he’s still not sleeping well either.”
“He’s being so hard on himself.” Dylan ran his hand through his hair.
Jo gave him a sympathetic smile. “Both of you are. I hope at some point you’ll want to talk about what happened that made you decide to come here.”
Dylan’s jaw clenched. “I…I can’t.”
“We’re here when you’re ready.”
Dylan gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re here for him. I’ll check in again tomorrow.”
At the end of the day she found Taylor in front of the small parlor. He was crouched in front of the fireplace lighting a grouping of pillar candles. There was a piece of furniture under a drop cloth set in front.
Taylor jumped up and smiled. “I wanted to surprise you. The fireplaces still need a lot of repair so it’s not safe to have a fire but I know you like to sit in here and it’s getting colder in the evenings and…” He blew out a breath. “I’m rambling.”
“What’s this?” she asked, pointing to the tarp.
“It’s a present.”
Jo looked at him in surprise. “Do I get to open it?”
He nodded and stepped back so she could pull the covering off.
“Oh, Taylor, it’s beautiful,” she exclaimed.
It was a small settee covered in a yellow damask fabric, just like she had seen in her dream.
“I found it in the attic. The original fabric was mostly rotted away but there was enough that I could find a close match and have it reupholstered.”
It was a small piece delicately carved with roses along the back. The seat was slightly curved and just big enough for two people. The yellow silk began to glow in the candlelight as the last light of the day faded.
“I found some chairs as well. The fabric is completely rotted away so I thought you would like to choose what you wanted for them.”
The wood felt like satin under her fingertips as she ran her hand over the settee.
“I wanted to do something for you to make up for everything Tessa had put you through. I know how much you like this room—now you’ll have a place to sit by the fire. Well, sort of a fire until we get the fireplaces repaired.”
“Will you sit with me?”
Taylor hesitated for a moment before joining her.
He’d been trying to keep his distance since he came back but that didn’t mean Jo was blind to the heated looks he gave her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
The settee was small enough that when he sat down his thigh brushed against hers. Jo realized he was holding his breath as he sat stiffly next to her.
“This is nice isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
He looked like he was almost in pain sitting there with this hands clenched at his sides.
She felt a pang in her heart when she saw how uncomfortable he was. Had she waited too long? Had he decided he didn’t want to be around her anymore?
Sadness threatened to overwhelm her. She forced herself to say the words, to let him go. “If you don’t want to be here you can leave.”
Suddenly he twisted to face her and reached up to cup her face. “I don’t want to leave but I have to. I dream about you every night. About falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up with the feel of your body against mine. I promised that is was your decision but I want you so much I’m afraid if I don’t leave I won’t be able to keep my promise. I want to be the kind of man you deserve, one who keeps his word, who respects you as much as he…” he drew in a breath “…as much as I want you.”
He started to get up and Jo grabbed his hand, pulling him back down. “Don’t go.”
He froze, his eyes searching hers looking for reassurance. In one swift movement she shifted and straddled his lap and brought her mouth down on his, making the decision for both of them.
His fingers dug into her waist. He moaned, his tongue delving into her mouth. She reached between them, placing her hand on his chest and feeling his thundering heartbeat beneath her fingertips.
He tore his lips away, his breath coming in soft puffs against her lips. “Jo, I need to know… If we keep going I won’t be able to let you go again.”
“I don’t want you to let me go. I want to be here with you,” she whispered against his lips.
He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him until he could feel her body against his. He tugged at her shirt until he could feel the soft skin of her waist against his palm.
She unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. He pulled back just long enough to pull her shirt over her head before kissing her again. His breath hitched. His fingers traced the line where the lace of her bra caressed her breasts. They became a tangle of arms and legs, lips and tongues. He grasped her hip just as his hip slipped and they tumbled to the floor.
“Bedroom. Now.” Taylor cupped her breasts through the pale blue lacy bra that he couldn’t wait to rip off of her.
They raced through the house and at her bedroom door he stopped her from opening it and braced both of his arms on either side of her head. “Are you sure?”
Jo dragged her lower lip between her teeth in a way that made him want to thrust into her right then and there.
“I’m not going to change my mind, Taylor. I know what I want and I want you,” she said reaching behind her to open the door.
*
Moonlight streamed through the window, bathing them in a pale silvery glow. The first time they made love it was fast and frantic. The next, gentle and slow. She sighed and moved closer, wrapping her arm across Taylor’s chest, loving the feel of the hair on his chest against her cheek. It felt so good to be held in his arms, their legs tangled together under the sheets. It felt right being here in this moment, with this man.
He kissed her shoulder. “Do you want me to go?”
She raised herself up on her elbow. “No, I want you to stay.”
“As long as you want me I’ll be here.”
Jo put her head on his chest listening as his heartbeat began to match the rhythm of hers, lulling them both to sleep.
*
Sunlight streamed through the window, creating streaks of light a
nd shadow on Taylor’s face. She ran her hand over his beard, remembering how those same whiskers felt against her skin in the night. He stirred and opened his eyes, his mouth turning up into a smile.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
He reached out and cupped the back of her head, pulling her down for a good-morning kiss that quickly turned into much more.
It was late in the morning before they finally stumbled out of bed. They were out on the veranda with their coffee talking about their plans for the day when Jo set her cup down and climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck with an excited gleam in her eye.
“I have an idea for what we should do with Halcyon.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I had another dream about Ada Mae,” she said.
Taylor nuzzled the side of her head. “I know.” Jo looked at him with wide eyes. “You were talking in your sleep.”
“She wanted to turn Halcyon into a school. She was going to come back after the war and teach the former slaves to read and write.”
“Is that what you’re thinking that we should do, turn Halcyon into a school?”
“Not a school, but something similar. What if we worked with the trade school in Greenwood and some other programs and offered apprenticeships for other students like Adam who are interested in historic preservation?”
Jo’s enthusiasm was infectious and Taylor’s mind raced with the possibilities.
“So many of those skills are being lost. We could bring in carpenters, stonemasons, and historians to teach the next generation,” she said.
“I had someone from the architecture program at Ole Miss reach out to me the other day asking about bringing some students by to see the house. Maybe we could put together a presentation about what we’re thinking about doing.”
“We have enough rooms. If we put two beds in each room we could have as many as a dozen or more students living and studying here.”
Jo grew serious. “I don’t know how it would work with the show but we can figure it out.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure I want to keep doing the show. I love it, but I know now that the show was holding me back in some ways. I was constantly traveling, the filming schedule was grueling and I didn’t realize how burnt out I was. I would miss the show but I don’t want to go back to the way I was working before. I like the idea of having a program here that would benefit the community.”
“I’ll support any decision you make—you know that, right?”
“I do, and thank you.” He reached up and cupped her cheek, his eyes searching hers. “I love your idea and I love you.”
Jo stiffened and pulled away. She saw the sincerity in his eyes and knew they weren’t empty words. But there was still that small piece of her heart that questioned and it was enough that she couldn’t say the words back. It was all too much. Overwhelming.
Taylor kissed her temple. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to say it back.”
“I’m just…I care about you so much I’m just…afraid.”
“And that’s my fault.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not your fault, it’s Oliver’s and mine, for being so naive and trusting. I just…I want the next man I say I love you to to be the only man I say those words to for the rest of my life.”
A slow smile spread over his face.
“What are you smiling for?” she asked.
“Now I know when you say, I love you, it will be forever.”
Chapter Twenty
Taylor scrutinized the picture on his tablet comparing the carving on the leg of the desk with the one in the book sitting next to him. He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. It was close but not a match. Where had he seen the desk before? He slammed the book on early American furniture closed and pushed back from the desk he had set up in his room.
“Everything okay?” Jo asked from the doorway.
Taylor held his hand out to her. “Just trying to do some research.”
As soon as she was within arm’s reach he pulled her into his lap, nuzzling her neck.
“I’m sure everyone will understand if I bail on them tonight,” she said running her hands across his shoulders.
With a ragged sigh he gently pushed her off his lap. “You’ve been looking forward to having a night out with the girls.” He took her hand and pulled her close. “I’ll be here when you get back. We have plenty of time for it to be just you and me.”
Jo’s eyes flashed with a mixture of longing and desire that matched his own. Hand in hand he walked her out to her car and gave her a goodbye kiss that left no doubt about his need for her. He watched her drive away feeling more content than he had in a long time. They were going to be happy here, he thought turning back to the house. There was just one thing that still troubled him and if his hunch was right he could make sure halcyon would be safe for generations to come.
Back inside, he was pulled toward the hidden room like a magnet. Time and memory mingled together to make the air in the room heavy with sorrow. Taylor took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. He walked over to the desk, scrutinizing every curve and line.
His breath hitched with a flash of recognition. How could he have forgotten? The desk he stood in front of was a miniature of the one that his father used in his office at home in Atlanta. He thought back to his grandfather’s gravelly drawl telling him how the desk had belonged to the colonel. He’d been just a little boy that day, when his grandfather helped move the desk into his father’s office. Taylor’s heart began to beat in double time as he recalled the rest of the memory from that day.
*
Jo rocked gently back and forth in Callie’s porch swing, watching the leaves from the big oak tree across the street float to the ground in waves of gold and green. Mae’s voice faded into the distance as she shared her idea for starting a farmers’ market with the group.
Callie had invited Jo over for dinner with Mae and Emma. As much as she’d been looking forward to it she’d been reluctant to leave Taylor that night. They had come a long way in repairing their relationship but there was a fragility that made her fiercely protective of their time together. She treasured each moment as their bond continued to blossom and grow.
She listened with one ear while she imagined walking through the farmers’ market hand in hand with Taylor. Her brother and sister always teased her that she was too practical to be a romantic. If they could see her now they wouldn’t know her. Sometimes she didn’t recognize herself from the person she was when she first arrived in Colton. She didn’t worry so much about what other people thought anymore. It may have been an impulsive decision to come here but she’d received so many gifts by taking the leap of faith. Family, friendship and…love.
She swallowed. Love was dangerous. She shifted in her seat. She wanted to trust but something was still holding her back.
*
Taylor swiped a path through the dust, revealing the rich reddish-brown hue of rosewood. Just like its larger version the legs were carved with a delicate curve that ended with a claw balancing on a balled foot. A silver inkwell, its contents long since evaporated, sat in one corner along with a few sheaves of paper.
The room was still just as they had found it. His dream about the colonel and Ada Mae, combined with his recollection of his conversation with his grandfather, overruled waiting to disturb anything until they had a plan from the conservation experts they were consulting with.
Taylor set his flashlight down and studied the small drawer at the front of the desk. He reached out and carefully hooked his finger on the ornate brass handle and pulled. He expected resistance from so many years without use but the drawer slid open with a whisper of wood sliding against wood. Taylor drew in a sharp breath, looking down at the papers scattered inside along with a small leather journal that he instantly knew belonged to Ada Mae. He opened the journal and flipped through the pages. He stopped when he recognized the telltale brown color of a daguerre
otype tucked inside. Pulling it out he froze when he saw the image.
His hand shook so badly he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep a hold of it. He picked up the flashlight illuminating the photograph. Absolem Madden Colton stood in the center of the picture. It was taken before the war and he stood with his head held high by starched collar and bow tie. His coat fell to his knees and his pocket watch chain was visible against the paisley pattern on his vest. His mustache and beard were neatly trimmed and his hair just long enough to curl at the nape of his neck.
His wife, Julia Colton, sat stiffly in front of him. The ruffles on the collar of her dress grazed her chin. The dress was a dark color with a full skirt that even in black and white Taylor knew was the red dress Jo had described from her dream when Julia had pushed Ada Mae down the stairs. Her hair was piled high on her head, in a severe style that matched the severity of her expression. She stared at the camera, her eyes cold and distant. The third person in the picture explained the hatred in her gaze.
Taylor’s heart pounded in his ears when he looked at the woman standing at the colonel’s side.
It was Ada Mae.
*
“Jo…Jo,” someone called out.
She shook her head. “What?”
“Uh-oh,” Mae said, “I know that look.” She pointed at Callie. “You had that same look when you started falling for Dax.”
Callie ducked her head behind her curtain of curls. Mae and Emma were sprawled out in wicker chairs, enjoying an unusually warm fall evening. They finished their dinner and had moved out to the porch for wine and some of Callie’s 7UP cake.
“I don’t have a look,” Jo said. The night air carried the scent of eucalyptus that swirled around her. The minty pine fragrance that usually soothed her made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She hugged herself.
“Oh yes you do,” Mae and Emma said in unison.
Callie nudged her shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s going to happen to them one day and then it will be our turn to give them a hard time when they fall in love.”
