Sweet Words of Love

by Betty Brooks

  Oh, God, she thought. She was a wanton woman, and if those two reported their conversation to the other passengers, then she would be branded as such, most likely shunned by everyone. She carried that thought with her, walking apart from the others as they headed toward the water where the boats would soon dock. She tried to keep her face expressionless, tried to keep others from seeing the deep hurt she felt, inflicted by the man and woman she'd thought were her friends. But the hurt was so deep, the wound so fresh, that she was afraid it would show despite her attempt to keep it hidden.

  The dinghies drew closer, and Rainey could identify the tall, dark man seated near the front. It was Thorne. He had come for her. The cousins were waiting beside the water, and Rainey, unwilling to be near them, hung back slightly. The boat scraped against sand and tipped slightly as Thorne jumped out and dragged it nearer the shore. Then he was coming toward her.

  Schooling her features into a calm mask, Rainey watched him stride swiftly toward her. "Are you ready to go?" he asked quickly. "Do you have every-“ He broke off abruptly, his gaze narrowing on hers. "What's wrong, Rainey?"

  "Wrong?" she prevaricated. "Why, nothing is wrong. Why would you think otherwise?" He took her arm. “I know you, Rainey. Something has you upset. What happened?"

  "Nothing."

  His grip tightened. "Don't lie to me."

  She swallowed hard. There was no use protesting. She was upset and he knew it. She jerked her arm away from him. "I ain't gonna-am not going to discuss it," she said, her eyes bright with tears. "So you better just leave me alone, Thorne Lassiter. Just leave me alone!"

  His lips thinned slightly but he remained silent for a long moment. Then, "Very well, Rainey. We'll leave it for now. Where's your knapsack?"

  Realizing she'd forgotten it, she pointed toward the tree where she'd left it. He strode away from her, picked up the knapsack, then returned. "Let's go," he said, taking her arm again.

  A quick glance told her the cousins had taken the first dinghy, which was already making its way toward the big boat. Since there was no chance of her being forced into close quarters with them, she hurried toward the remaining dinghy, which was already loaded with the remaining passengers.

  The hefty oarsmen made short work of the journey to the boat, and shortly thereafter they boarded the Voyager. The Cross cousins were nowhere in sight. And Rainey was grateful for that fact. If she'd encountered them, Thorne would have noticed her doing her best to avoid them. And if that happened, he would be sure to question Sammy, and she didn't want him to know the shameful thoughts they had about her.

  It was a week later when they arrived in New Orleans, and during that time Rainey had managed to avoid encountering the Cross cousins. Mostly, she supposed, because she rose at daybreak and walked the deck before they were up and about. By midmorning, when the other passengers began to put in an appearance, Rainey returned to her cabin and stayed there throughout the day, reading one of the many books she found in the riverboat's library.

  Finally, they reached their destination. And when the riverboat docked in New Orleans, Rainey felt awed by the many ships that were anchored there. "There are so many!" she exclaimed, standing at the

  rail and gazing greedily. "I never knew there could be so many boats in the world, Thorne!"

  “It’s the cotton,” he explained. “An enormous amount-tons of it leaves the port each day. That and the other exports are what cause it to be so crowded.”

  The dock was a beehive of activity, and the noise level was severe. After disembarking, they left the boat behind and made their way to a hotel. Thorne signed in for them and asked for a suite. When he'd finished, he handed the register back to the clerk. The clerk read it and then said, "We're mighty happy you decided to stay in our hotel." He looked at Rainey then. "Our suites are the finest in town, Mrs. Lassiter. I know you'll be comfortable in them, but if there's anything I can do to make your stay more pleasurable, don't hesitate to let me know."

  Rainey flushed and said, "Thank you. I'll do that.” Why had Thorne signed them in as man and wife? she wondered.

  "Come along, Rainey." Thorne took her arm and led her toward the stairs. When they were alone in the suite, he turned to her. "Sharing a suite troubles you, doesn't it, Rainey?" he said. "Why? We shared one in St. Louis. It didn't bother you then. Why now?"

  "I guess I know how the world feels about it now."

  "The world? Or just two particular people. The Cross cousins, for instance?"

  She looked at him, startled.

  "Yes." His eyes were suddenly cold. "I know about that. I heard them talking together."

  "They're going to start gossip."

  "No, they won't."

  “You can't know."

  "I know."

  "You spoke to them!" she accused.

  "It was a short conversation. They won't be spreading loose talk again. Why didn't you tell me what hap­ pened?"

  She shook her head. "I couldn't. I felt shamed." He tried to pull her into his arms, and she moved quickly to avoid his embrace. She couldn't trust herself where he was concerned. She looked beyond him, toward the window. "This is a mighty pretty room," she said.

  "Don't change the subject. We need to talk about this."

  "There's no need to discuss it," she said.

  "Yes, there is. But we'll leave it for now." He studied her flushed face. "Do you want me to get you a separate room?" he asked quietly.

  "No. That would be a waste of money."

  "It's not a waste if it will make you feel better. But I don't like the idea of you being in another room in this city. You'd be completely unprotected."

  "You’re just being silly," she said. "Don't pay me no mind."

  “If you say so.”

  She forced herself to relax. "Which room do you want? she asked, crossing the room to peer into one

  of the bedrooms.

  "Either one. You choose."

  "I guess I'll take this one, then," she said, her gaze on the flowered wallpaper. "The yellow flowers make it the next thing to sleeping outdoors. Don't you think so?"

  "It's pretty enough," he said gruffly. "You might as well unpack your bags while I begin the search for Eulalie." She nodded her head and picked up her valise.

  "I'll take it," Thorne said, reaching out to take it from her. "Where do you want it?"

  "On the bed where it's easy to reach," she replied. "Do you want me to unpack yours for you?"

  "No. I'll take care of it when I return." His gaze was thoughtful as he took in her disheveled state. ”You have the clerk send someone up to draw you a bath. A good soak in a hot tub will do you a world of good. Perhaps you'll be able to sleep afterward."

  "You're spoilin' me, Thorne," she said quietly. "I never took naps before I left the mountains."

  "You never stayed up after dark, either," he said. "But that's all changing now. It was past time you broadened your interests. Just as soon as we find Eulalie I'm going to show you the city. There never was a more beautiful sight than New Orleans at night."

  She smiled at him. "That sounds like fun, Thorne." He touched her cheek gently, a light caress. "It will be, Rainey. I promise.” He opened the door and with a quick smile, he stepped into the hallway and closed

  the door behind him, leaving her alone in the room.

  FOURTEEN

  It was still early enough for mist to be rising off the water when Thorne left the stronger current of the Red River and entered the sluggish water of the swamp. He paused there, laying aside the pole he'd been using to push them along to consult the rough map.

  "According to the map this should be the channel that leads to the old man's house," he muttered.

  "How can you tell?" Rainey asked. "This channel looks just like all the others we've passed." She scanned the channel opening for something that might set it apart from the others, but saw nothing different. Everywhere she looked were those strange protuberances they called cypress knees, which reached up from the watery dep
ths. She leaned forward, trying to look at the map he held.

  "Why do you think this is the right channel?"

  "Because, according to the map, the old man lives on the fifth channel. Since we've already passed four, this has to be the one we're looking for."

  A loud screech startled Rainey, and she jerked, then settled back into the pirogue. "A screech owl," she muttered nervously. "Only a screech owl." She looked at the knife and rifle that Thorne had placed beside him in the pirogue and wished she'd brought a weapon of her own.

  As though sensing her unease, Thorne spoke words of reassurance. "Relax, Rainey. We're safe enough as long as we stay in the pirogue."

  "You don't have to worry none about me gettin' out," she said quickly. "I don't figger-intend-to allow an alligator to make a meal out of me." She leaned closer to one side of the boat and it swayed unsteadily.

  "Keep still," he said shortly.

  She glared at him, made angry by his tone, but he ignored her. Rainey realized he was still angry at her decision to accompany him. He'd wanted her to stay at the hotel. But she'd refused to be left behind. Although they'd argued about it, Thorne had finally been made to see that leaving her behind might put her in more danger than she'd find in the swamp, because she'd refused to stay inside their rooms while he was away. She'd had enough of being confined while they'd been on the boat. Even though he'd relented and allowed her to come, he'd made certain she was aware of his displeasure. He'd ignored her most of the time, speaking only when he considered it necessary to do so.

  Rainey's lips tightened grimly. She could be just as unpleasant as he could. If he wanted open war, then he'd damned well have it. Even though she'd made that decision she was mindful of her need to keep a watchful eye out for danger. And, as they approached a submerged log, she broke the silence to warn him. "Log on the right."

  The log moved then and opened its mouth and slid smoothly toward them. "It's a gator," she said quickly, leaning sideways to take a closer look.

  "For God's sake, Rainey," Thorne snarled. "Can't you be still? Or is it your plan to offer yourself for his next meal?"

  She glared at him. "Maybe I'd prefer the gator's company to yours," she replied shortly.

  His expression darkened, and his mouth thinned, and she was prepared for a blast of thunder. But amazingly, his frown disappeared and he uttered a heavy sigh. "We can't continue this way, Rainey," he said gruffly. "If we do, both of us will be miserable. We've got a long way to go before we get to the old man's house. And neither of us will find any enjoyment if we keep snapping at each other. Why don't we try to put aside our differences? At least until we get back to the hotel?"

  Her eyes misted with tears and she struggled to keep them at bay. "You snapped at me first," she said, forcing the words past the thick knot, which had suddenly formed in her throat.

  "Does it really matter who snapped first?" His look was dark and intense. When she looked away from him, he said, "Never mind, kitten. I concede. And I sincerely apologize for quarreling with you." He reached out and took her hand. "Is that enough? Will you accept my apology?"

  She nodded her head.

  "Good." He sighed and squeezed her hand lightly. “I’m glad that’s over. It's been hell ever since that morning when you crawled into my bed. I never imagined I would care so much that-“

  "I crawled into your bed!" She stared at him, her tongue finally loosened by her indignation. "I never done no such thing, Thornton Lassiter! You drug me into that bed and then you-you-done what you done." The last words were spoken in a low voice, not much more than a whisper.

  "What I done, my love," he said, imitating her own way of speaking, "was to make wild, glorious, passionate love to you."

  "You can call it what you want to," she said smartly. "But they wasn't no glory in it for me." Although Rainey had fallen into her old speech pattern, she made no effort to correct it.

  Thorne was silent for a long moment as he took in her words. He appeared to consider them carefully. "Can we discuss what happened that night calmly, Rainey? Like rational human beings instead of children, each blaming the other?"

  "Prob'ly not," she said sulkily. "I don't feel very rational when we're discussing it. You messed up my life, Thorne. And it was all for nothing."

  "What do you mean, nothing?" he asked with sharply raised brows. "You call what happened that night, nothing?"

  "It was nothing. You got me all hot and bothered, wanting something real bad . ..and then you was done with me like I was an old, wet dishrag that was all used up and ready for the trash pile. And all that time I was-was-“She ducked her head to hide her expression from him. "I was all hot and bothered, still burning up with my need." She glared at him. "I never knew it would be like that. I thought it would be like-like a thunderstorm at night, with lightning flashing and thunder booming and . . . or something like that."

  He laughed out loud. "A thunderstorm at night? What made you think such a thing? Who led you to believe such hogwash?"

  "Suzy Belle. She said on her wedding night that she nearly exploded and-“

  "Suzy Belle was probably not a virgin."

  "What's that got to do with it?"

  "Everything. Making love is sometimes like a storm, Rainey. It's supposed to be shared though. A mutual release, but apparently it went all wrong that night." His face was flushed and he struck the water hard with the flat of the paddle, then turned his attention to his rowing. His muscles rippled in his chest and arms as he dug the paddle into the water and propelled the pirogue forward.

  Rainey was left with a feeling of confusion. Thorne had admitted there should have been something different for her that night, and yet he hadn't gone on to explain what had happened. He appeared to have put the matter behind him already. Well, she wasn't going to allow him off the hook so easily.

  "Why wasn't it, then?" she asked, meeting his eyes with a long look. “If I wasn't supposed to be left hanging like that, then what went wrong?"

  "Can we discuss this another time?" he asked shortly.

  "No. You started this. Now you can just finish it. What happened, Thorne? Did I do something I wasn't supposed to do?"

  "Of course not," he said shortly. "It was me. I just couldn''t hold on."

  "Couldn't hold on? To what?"

  "I lost control of the situation, Rainey. Does that satisfy you? I wanted you so much, for so many years, that I couldn't hold out long enough."

  Her blue eyes widened. He'd wanted her for years? What did he mean? Did she dare ask? No, not while they were on the water, with alligators surrounding them. But when they returned to the hotel, she would have her answer.

  She looked out across the swamp. "Gonna be a nice sunny day," she commented.

  He made a disgusted sound. "Don't try to change the subje ct now," he said gruffly. "You made me admit to some things that I've kept hidden, and now you're ready to forget what's been said. Well, I won't let you. We need to talk things out."

  "I'm done with talking," she said. "At least about those things."

  “Why?”

  "Because this is not the time . . . or the place for it." "Will there be a time and place?" When she hesitated, he said, "We've got some serious talking to do, Rainey. I won't allow you to forget what happened between us."

  "Why?" She stared hard at him. "Why do you want me to remember?"

  "Because I can't forget."

  The feeling he put behind those words brought her up short. What did he mean by them? She wondered. What couldn't he forget? The loving itself, or that there might be consequences from the act? Would he believe that he must marry her? That he was bound to do so? No. She couldn't allow him to feel beholden to give her his name. She'd have to find a way to make him understand he need not do that. They could never marry if he didn't love her. Such a marriage would be doomed from the start.

  “If you're thinking of marriage, Thorne, then you'd best know that I’ll never marry without love."

  Her words seemed to have ang
ered him because his lips tightened and he dipped the oar savagely into the water and pulled hard on it. They continued up the channel for a while then he pulled over and took out his map and studied it again. When he had his bearings, he folded the map again and put it into his pocket, then began to pole the pirogue forward, going deeper and deeper into the swamp.

  Rainey began to realize why they hadn't used horses as a mode of transportation. The pirogue was faster than trying to guide a horse through the mire and swamp of tangled underbrush of trackless forests. It glided over withered grass and brown leaves like a light bark canoe over water, while the yellow-circled eyes of a marsh hawk, perched on a graying limb, followed their every move.

  Rainey was uneasy in the swamp. It had a ghostly look to it that gave her a creepy feeling as though she were wandering through the land of the dead. The bleached skeletons of long-dead trees did nothing to dispel that notion, either. Instead, the limbs appeared to have a ghostly light this early in the morning, and the wispy strands of moss reached down from the overhanging limbs like long skeleton fingers.

  Although it made her uneasy, Rainey was not so fearful that she was unable to see the incredible beauty of the swamp. A sense of magic, not found in any other place, resided there. And the farther they went into it, the more magical it appeared. Her eyes went from side to side as she tried to see everything, for she imagined that once she left, she would never again enter the swamp.

  On her right a bed of floating lilies and wild orchids grew near the base of tree trunks. Water bubbled against the side of the pirogue as Thorne poled them deeper and deeper into the swamp. Suddenly, Rainey spotted a beautiful white bird ahead and, forgetting her anger at Thorne, pointed to the bird. When she spoke, her voice was filled with excitement.

  "Look, Thorne. What kind of bird is that?"

  "An egret," he replied. And wonder of wonders, he was smiling across at her.

  She returned his smile, eager to put the bad feelings behind them. Her uneasiness had disappeared and she felt the incredible beauty of the swamp wash over her. She was so glad Thorne was enchanted by the swamp, too. That fact made her feel closer to him. She saw a screech owl sitting on a bleached limb, blinking lazily at her, and she pointed it out to Thorne. He pointed out another egret.