Forever Wife

by Faulkner, Carolyn

  Tracy tugged on the refrigerator door and groaned. “Lizzy, why haven’t you gone grocery shopping yet?”

  “I don’t have a car.”

  “But what about that shiny rental in your driveway?”

  Liz shrugged. “That’s Vidar’s. You remember him, my godfather? He showed up last night, but he promised to stay out of the way. As I recall, you two never really got along.”

  Tracy shuddered, pulling a face. “Ew. He creeped me out.”

  “Why?”

  “The way he was always watching you? Didn’t you notice? He had the hots for you, babe, and you were just a kid. It was gross. He’s so much older than you.”

  Liz laughed, startled by her friend’s confession. “You’ve got it all wrong, Tracy. I had the crush on him – not the other way around.”

  “You can delude yourself all you want, but I know what I saw. Apparently your dad saw the same thing, since he sent him away.”

  Did everyone know about that except her? Liz felt a pain in her gut that had nothing to do with hunger. Did Vidar really have feelings for her? Was that even possible? His age just wasn’t an issue any more. Maybe the difference between fifteen and thirty-something was gross, but now that she was nearly thirty… of course, that meant that Vidar should be pushing fifty, and he still didn’t look a day over thirty-five. Argh! It was so unfair! How could some people hide their age so well?

  “I need to get going anyway,” Tracy said, pilling some of the books back into her box.

  “Here, let me help.”

  “No, the rest can stay here. I just have to return these things – I could only check them out for a week, since they’re resource material. So, are you ready to go door to door with me tomorrow, and we’ll get some volunteers to help us with the petitions?”

  “Sure. But not until afternoon. Sunday mornings are a lousy time to try to find anyone home.”

  She waved as Tracy turned her car around, honking several quick taps as she left. Only when she was out of sight did Vidar come out of his office.

  “Coward,” she called, teasing him for hiding from her girl friend.

  “Ah, it’s a wise man who knows what battles are worth waging and what ones are best avoided,” he said smoothly.

  “So Tracy is a battle, huh? Didn’t know she intimidated you so much.”

  Vidar put his arm around her, tucking her up close to his side. “I can think of much more romantic things to discuss than your friend Tracy,” he whispered into her ear. His hot breath stirred a loose strand of hair and it tickled. Liz snuggled closer, pressing her face into his strong shoulder. How delicious he smelled! Her stomach rumbled, slightly queasy from the stale black coffee.

  “Let’s go for a ride,” Vidar said. He led her towards the front door, a picnic hamper clutched in his other hand. Liz hadn’t seen him grab it, and wondered what he had managed to find to put in it, but then he kissed her! His lips pressed against her forehead in a gesture that was definitely not the platonic relationship of godfather and godchild. As if she had any lingering doubts on where his thoughts lay, his lips moved lower, capturing hers, devouring hers, his tongue plunged inside, hungry for her. Liz didn’t care where their ride would take them. She didn’t care if the picnic hamper was devoid of all food, but only contained a blanket to cushion the cold early-spring ground – all she wanted was to let him kiss her again and again… and then maybe some more.

  He led her away from the cabin, away from his rental car, and down towards the boat dock. She hadn’t even noticed that the boat dock was in already. Most people dry-docked them over the winter to protect them from ice damage. But there, tied up to the dock was a beautiful little sailboat! The mast was tall and slender, a bright flag fluttering cheerily at the top. Although it looked to be only about nineteen – maybe twenty feet long, it boasted a cabin tucked under the fore deck. It was a far cry from the little rowboat her parents had given her! And how like Vidar… she’d always felt he was more comfortable with ancient technology, although he had no problems maneuvering the Internet. There was just something decidedly old-fashioned about him.

  He held her hand as she stepped onto the deck, the small boat rocking slightly beneath her weight. She grabbed the mast for balance, then carefully made her way to the opposite side where he gestured she should sit. Vidar stepped on next, giving the boat a gentle send off before taking the tiller. With an easy motion, he raised the sail, adjusting the sheets until he caught a slight breeze, and then they were off.

  Liz closed her eyes and smiled as the cool breeze kissed her face. She felt her pulse increase, felt excitement thrum within, similar to the adrenaline rush she used to get from riding. She loved the gentle rocking motion of the boat as it rose and dipped with the waves.

  Before long, Vidar taught her how to duck as they “came about” – a sailing term for changing tack. The boom – a solid wood beam that held the mainsail – swung across the boat and would have knocked her overboard if she hadn’t ducked. Then the breeze filled the sail again as the boat zigzagged across the lake.

  There was no need for conversation. Vidar looked so handsome manning the tiller. He wore only a light windbreaker, which did little to conceal his strong, capable arms. A hat with a brim shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun, but no sunglasses hid his face from her. She gazed at him, loving the hungry look in his eyes. Could it be? Did he really feel this way about her, or was she reading him wrong? Was she only seeing what she wanted to see? But why would he have kissed her, if he didn’t want her? Of course, wanting her because she was available or wanting her because he couldn’t live without her were definitely two different things. She would enjoy the afternoon and let it play out, but she should guard her heart, lest he break it again. She wasn’t sure how much more heartache it could endure.

  Their foreword motion slowed. Vidar loosened the halyards, bringing down the sails. Liz looked away from him to see that they had drawn very near the small pond island at the opposite end of the lake. It was so small that no one owned it. It had been declared public land. A small, permanent cabin remained on the island, along with a campfire pit, picnic table and benches and a supply of firewood. Part of the fees the Scrimshaw Lake Association collected from every landowner was used to maintain the island, among other things. She and Tracy had spent many happy summer days playing on the island, after Daddy bought her the rowboat. She grinned broadly, as Vidar gave her a hand getting out of the boat.

  “Oh, this is perfect!” she gushed. “I haven’t been here in forever!”

  Vidar gave her an odd look. Liz was too happy to question him about it. She skipped down the dock and raced up the rough path to the rustic little cabin that seemed to list slightly to one side as though the wind had blown too hard in that direction.

  White pines, scotch pines, birch, tamarack and cedar trees crowded the little island. Most were mature, a few were in their last years of life. The tallest tree of all was a massive scotch pine. It stood at the crest of a slight hill, granite and pine needles surrounding its base like a royal cape. Huge holes a foot tall and at least that deep had been burrowed into the tree about two thirds of the way up by a pileated woodpecker years ago. Gallons of sap had leaked out of the holes, dripping down the rugged bark to feed the mice and other critters. She remembered hearing the Lake Association members argue for years about the need to bring the tree down before it fell down, yet here it remained, no worse for wear.

  Vidar joined her, then passed by her, leading to the sunny patch at the center of the island. It was completely surrounded by trees, but wide enough that it caught a few hours of sunlight from late morning to early afternoon before the shadows invaded. The grass grew long since no one bothered to cut it, although this early in the season it wasn’t even green yet. Soft dead grass remained, a perfect cushion for the blanket Vidar now spread.

  Liz felt strangely shy as she drew near. She knelt on one corner of the blanket, unsure what to do with her hands. She had fantasized this moment most of
her life, a romantic interlude with the most intriguing man she had ever met. What if she said something really stupid, and broke the mood? He was so much older than she, and experienced… how could she compete against the horde of women he was sure to have known already? Liz was no longer a virgin, although her pathetically few liaisons with persons of the opposite sex had been nothing worth mentioning, let alone remembering.

  Vidar opened the picnic hamper and withdrew two wine glasses. Moments later he filled them with a light, mildly sweet white wine. He passed her a glass, then clinked the edge of the glasses together. “To this moment,” he said smoothly, his voice deep and rich. “To us. May we never again be separated by misunderstandings or petty differences. To you, my dear Beth.” He took a sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving her face.

  Liz flushed, nibbling her lower lip. “To us,” she repeated. She took a big gulp, hoping the light wine would help her relax. Vidar’s smile was slow and sexy as he topped off her glass. Then he brought out the meal – she had no idea how he’d managed to procure such a feast, but he produced a loaf a bread, a hunk of cheese, luscious red grapes and – a really special treat – two candy bars! Liz laughed. “Vidar, you thought of everything!”

  “I hope so, Beth. I hope so,” he said. He cut a piece of cheese and handed it to her, then cut one for himself. Liz wondered if he even tasted it, his focus was so totally on her. She might have felt intimidated by it, but the wine was definitely working. She no longer felt the cool spring air or her own nervousness. In fact, it was decidedly much warmer, all of a sudden.

  Vidar set his wine aside and advanced on her with a predatory look. He moved slowly, too slowly. Liz thought if she were to try to stop him, maybe he would listen. She wasn’t entirely sure, nor was she sure that she wanted him to stop. Or to continue. Yes, he must continue! He had to help her – had to kiss her, and make love to her, and end the endless torture of wondering how it would be with him!

  As if he’d read her mind, Vidar captured her lips with his own while his hand expertly divested her of her blouse, then her bra. She should feel cold, she thought, for the evenings were nippy enough to need a jacket, and yet a greater heat consumed her. No longer content to see what he would do, Liz captured his face between her palms and returned his kisses with fiery passion.

  “My Beth,” he murmured; his fingers slid under her skirt, under the lacy edge of her panties as he sought the warm folds within that were slick with her desire. “Tell me I am not imagining this!”

  “I’m here, Vidar,” she moaned, arching her back as her naked breasts begged him for attention.

  He suckled one, his fingers reluctantly leaving her below to fondle the other breast. The nipples were peaked and hard, the flesh soft and savory. He buried his face in her sweet mounds.

  She whimpered hungrily, mindless of the prickles from his five-o’clock shadow. She wanted more! Now! She latched onto his shirt and tried to rip it from him. He chuckled, and almost instantly he was as naked as she. She couldn’t even remember removing her skirt and panties, or her shoes, for that matter. Vidar wasn’t good for her… not if he could take over her mind like that. But none of that mattered. She was where she longed to be, where she had to be. For only a moment, she wondered if he’d packed protection in that picnic hamper, but then he was over her, his thick shaft nestling between her slick thighs, and practical thoughts were a thing of the past. She opened herself to him, welcoming him in, inviting him, wrapping her long legs around him to hold him there.

  He braced himself on his elbows, cradling her head in his palms. A concerned look marred his handsome features for just a moment. “Are you comfortable, darling? Am I hurting you?”

  “Yes,” she burst. “I want you! Now!”

  He chuckled, even though his eyes were smoky dark with passion. He plunged into her, filling her, stretching her, completing her. He held still a moment, allowing her to adjust to him, and then he began the ancient dance. His hips rolled forward, pressing into her, but stopping just short of completion before he withdrew, only to thrust again. She clawed at his back, nibbled his shoulders, his lips, his dear face. She was on fire!

  “Oh, god,” she moaned. “Yes, yes! More!”

  “Patience, darling,” he gasped, his face showing the strain he put on himself trying to hold back to prolong their first coupling.

  “Patience be damned,” she hissed. She wiggled, twisted, and maneuvered herself out from under him. Shoving his shoulder to turn him on his back, she straddled him, impaling herself on his rigid cock. Already she felt the first of many spasms building, shatter, and build again. With her hands on his shoulders, she continued the dance. Lift and withdraw, clench and hold him tight, then slip down and surround him with her warm wet sheath. He bucked, she groaned. He shuddered, she moaned, until, they exploded. Liz collapsed on top of him, her strength departed, her need fulfilled, her arms boneless and her body strangely lethargic.

  Vidar moved, gently laying her on the blanket. He trapped her there with one leg, her head resting on his other arm. He wrapped her in a cocoon of himself, shielding her from the world. With a flick of a finger, he draped a thick sleeping bag over them. Magic made the grass below them as soft as a feather bed. Magic would keep them warm, while his precious Beth drifted to sleep.

  He had felt awkward yesterday, waking up in Mr. Shelburne’s bed with his daughter. He wondered if she had felt it, as well. If he decided to keep the cabin, he’d at least have to replace the furniture in the master bedroom. He kissed Beth once more, before snuggling down beside her, finally able to sleep the sleep of the angels, as he held his one true love.

  Chapter Five

  “I have to go,” Vidar announced over coffee the next morning.

  Liz was speechless. After the most perfect evening of passion and lovemaking, he could just leave her like that? Hadn’t it meant as much to him as it did to her? She couldn’t breathe. Ice ran down her spine, her hands trembled and she dropped her coffee mug.

  Vidar caught it, gently placing it on the table in the tiny island cabin without spilling a drop. He was sure fast! She hadn’t even seen him move. And he was speaking to her, but she couldn’t hear him. Her ears were stuffed, the sound of her heart beat too loud. The room tilted.

  “Sit, Beth!” he demanded, guiding her to a chair and firmly pressing her head down between her knees. “Breathe, Baby. Slow, deep even breaths. That’s my girl,” he murmured. He hunched down until his gaze was even with hers. “Now, do you mind telling me what that was all about?”

  Liz drew in breath after breath, feeling like she couldn’t get enough air, when in fact, she was probably getting too much. This had happened before, but not in a while. An anxiety attack. She’d suffered them regularly after her mom was diagnosed with cancer, and after her parents passed away leaving her with a mountain of debt and no way to pay them off… Oddly enough, her accident had helped her to get over the anxiety. After the worst happened, after she lost her ranch, her home and her horses, she had nothing left to worry about. But she wasn’t ready to discuss all of that with Vidar, especially now that he was going to leave her. She was not going to be a needy, clingy female weeping on his shirtsleeve. If only she could pretend to be calm and cool… but he wasn’t calm right now, either! He was worried and maybe a little angry. He didn’t like being worried.

  “Beth, I am not going to ask you again,” he warned.

  She shrugged, straightening up as she felt she could breathe again. “I just, I… well, we made love last night,” she said, stating the obvious.

  He grinned. “That we did.”

  “More than once! And this morning, and… well, I thought it meant something,” she murmured.

  “Oh, Baby! Of course it meant something!” he exploded. He pulled her into his arms, then sat down and held her tightly. “If you think I am going to let you out of my life again, you had better think again! I wouldn’t go now, but something has come up at work. I need to go and settle matters, then I plan to t
ake an extended leave and spend some time with you. We have a lot to work out, a lot of catching up to do. I don’t want work to be hanging over me while we do that. Can you wait a week? One week, that’s all I need. I will come back next Saturday – Friday, if I can get it settled in time.”

  She sniffled, embarrassed at the tears that suddenly flooded her vision. She nodded, snuggling into his strong shoulder. It wasn’t enough. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. She smiled in spite of her tears. “Yes, Vidar,” she managed. “I’ll wait for you!”

  “Think about where you might like to go. Paris? Cancun? Anywhere. I’ll show you the world.”

  She nodded, gulping again, struggling for breath as her tears continued to fall. Damn, she’d never thought of herself as emotional. What was wrong with her?

  “Beth, my Beth. I love you, Baby. Sh, now. It’s going to be alright,” he soothed, cradling her.

  She closed her eyes and relished the feeling. She had awakened that morning to a brilliant sunrise of pinks and golds that sparkled across the lake, casting a mirror image on the water. She had awakened in Vidar’s arms, under a warm sleeping bag, and felt more refreshed than she could ever remember. There was something magical about sleeping with this man! How he completed her! She felt that in his arms she had truly found a home – which was something, considering they weren’t even inside a home! She didn’t know why they weren’t freezing, as mist rose from the water alerting her that the air was even colder than the water temperature.

  Vidar awoke then, and they made love. He carried her into the cabin, although she was perfectly capable of walking. Tenderly he bathed her, cleaning up the last vestiges of their lovemaking with warm water and a washcloth, before he helped her dress again. She didn’t know how he had fit it all in that small picnic hamper, but he even had a change of clothes for her – warm pink sweatpants and a matching hoodie. Her college logo ran down the side of one leg and was blazoned across her chest. She felt cherished as he made her a filling omelet, and fresh, delicious coffee. And then he dropped that bombshell on her without warning. He was leaving her.