by Karen M Cox
She nodded.
“You’re like your name, my love; most people don’t know . . . can’t appreciate it, but I’ve seen it — your quiet strength. I’ve never met another woman who could compare to you, ever — so beautiful, but with such inner grace . . . such endurance.”
She stood, speechless, as he shook his head in that charming, self-deprecating way of his and went on.
“You’re an amazing woman, it’s true, but even you aren’t omniscient. You didn’t know what was in my head when I first came back here, but then I didn’t know it myself. I tried to convince myself that what we had all those years ago couldn’t have been real, that I had built it into some impossible fantasy. But it wasn’t a fantasy” — he paused — “it was a dream. A dream I persuaded myself I could never have, and not having it made me a kind of an asshole, I have to admit. I was angry, jealous, resentful, and I acted poorly, but every time I searched my heart, you were there. Once I saw you again, I couldn’t think about anyone else, and I felt a hopeful little flicker of love I thought was long forgotten.
“I told myself I came because I needed closure, needed to get rid of the illusion, but my resentment was no match for the reality of you. I realized I’ve never loved anyone else, and I couldn’t stay away any longer. I’ve come here to the lake to find you, Laurel. That’s what’s in this thick head of mine, sweetheart. I’m desperately planning how I can make a life with you.”
He paused, waiting to see what she would say, but since she was incapable of speaking, he continued.
“Years ago, I wanted to drag you into the limelight with me.” He smiled wryly. “But I guess Mountain Laurels don’t do well under the harsh light of the sun. They need the shelter and safety of the forest in order to thrive, but I didn’t realize that. Somehow, you found a way to bloom there in the quiet woods of Uppercross. It’s been your refuge, hasn’t it? But now, could you consider letting me have the honor of being your safe haven? That’s what I wanted all those years ago, but maybe I wasn’t up to it then. I was too bull-headed, too stubborn to give you what you needed from me — too young and stupid to even know what that need was — but now, I believe I could do a better job, and I’d sure as hell like to try. I’d offer to give my heart and soul to you, but they’ve always been yours. I belong to you, Laurel. Please tell me it’s not too late — that, like you told Eric, you haven’t given up on a love you thought was hopeless.”
She stared at him, completely bewildered. “You’re forgiven,” she whispered.
He grinned and pulled her into his arms.
“Not entirely, but for the most part,” she murmured into his chest.
“It’s more than I deserve.” He kissed her temple, not trusting himself to take her mouth yet.
“Just don’t run from me anymore. It hurts so much when you run.” Her voice wobbled with emotion, and she blinked back tears in a frantic attempt not to cry.
He smoothed his hands over her back. “I won’t; I promise. Sorry I blindsided you. I wasn’t thinking straight, I guess.
“I wanted to ask Susan and Gary for advice before coming back to convince you that we should be together. We were talking out my strategy when I looked around and there you were. You sat right next to me — so close.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “So close.” He cleared his throat and went on. “I could feel your warmth and breathe in the scent of your hair. Then I heard all that stuff you said to Eric about loving when all hope was gone, and it just hit me wrong. I couldn’t bear to think how unhappy I might have made you, and I wanted to tell you how sorry I was. I just needed a minute — or maybe a lifetime — to figure out what to say.” He stepped back and hung his head. “And then Eddie called me up there, and my head was full of you and your song . . . but then I panicked, like I usually do where you’re concerned . . . so I bumbled ahead anyway and blew it.”
She reached her arms around his neck. “Well, we can’t go back in there now. I’m sure we just shocked the hell out of Stu and Eric and anyone else who pays attention to song lyrics.”
“Eric won’t be surprised. I told him about you.”
“You did?”
“Mm-hmm.”
They stood in silence a minute, just clinging to each other.
“Crosby knew some about you too.”
“You told big-mouth Crosby?”
She chuckled.
“Speak of the devil — I mean, devils.” James released her and she turned around to see both her brothers at The Loft’s entrance. Crosby was leaning against a post, and Dylan stood scowling with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Just checking you’re okay,” Crosby called.
“I’m okay,” she called back.
“Then we’re going back inside.” He paused. “Mess her over, Marshall, and Dylan and I will put your ass in a sling — you got that?”
“Got it.”
Crosby held up his hand and disappeared into the building. Dylan followed after giving James an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, a la Robert deNiro.
James ran his hands up and down her arms. “Let’s go somewhere — somewhere quiet where we can talk.”
“It’s too cold to sit by the lake. What about my house?”
“Perfect.”
Chapter 27
When James slid into the driver’s seat, he turned to her with a big smile.
Laurel raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.
“This is a lot different than the first time we went somewhere together.”
“It’s a nicer set of wheels; that’s for sure.” She ran her hand over the leather seats of the BMW.
James turned the key and the engine roared to life. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of liked the old pickup truck you used to drive. I could slide over and sit right next to you. This one has a gear shift in the way.”
“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that truck is long gone now.”
“Oh?”
“Now I’ve got” — she paused dramatically — “a ’91 Jeep.”
He smirked.
“I can see you’re impressed.”
A heavy silence settled over them, an almost unbearable emotional tension. James turned on the radio and fiddled with the tuner but found only static as he went up and down the dial.
“How soon they forget. You won’t get any reception here, not until we get a little higher up the hill,” she reminded him.
“I can’t believe it’s almost the 21st century, and there’s still no radio here.” He stopped at the sound of an electric guitar zooming through the speakers. Then, he recognized the song, a suggestive number about love in the afternoon. Awkwardness settled over the car. James realized he was humming and groaned inwardly. He stared straight ahead, knowing that turning off the stupid song would just draw more attention to the lyrics. He hoped she didn’t think he only wanted to get into her pants. Well, to be honest, he did want that eventually, but it could wait if waiting meant they would be headed down the right path together at long last.
Laurel tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle. He turned to look at her and saw she was grinning at his obvious discomfort. Her eyes sparkled in the glow of the dashboard lights. He waggled his eyebrows at her in invitation, and she started singing along with the radio. He joined her at the chorus, laughing, and he almost missed the turn off to the cabin. They were both singing at the top of their lungs by the time they reached her place. She zoomed her hand up into the air with the final chord.
As they got out, James leaned on the car’s roof, gazing at Laurel with a stupid grin on his face.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m just marveling at my good fortune. I can’t stop looking at you.”
She looked down, embarrassed, but then she took a deep breath and resolutely raised her head to face this man, the only man she would ever love. “I don’t understand . . . ”
“Don’t understand what, darling?”
“How this all could have happened so fast.”
“Fast
? Laurel, we could have been together for years by now.”
“That’s not what I mean. I feel like I know you, but I don’t know you. Eight years is a long time. So many things have happened to you and for you — life changing events.” She slowed her pace. “Things I’ll never understand or be a part of.”
He started to pull her along by the hand, but then he turned back, coming to meet her and taking her other hand. “And you haven’t changed at all?”
“I haven’t — not down deep.”
He looked at her thoughtfully for a second. “No, I don’t believe you have. You are who you are: constant, steady, unwavering . . . ”
“Boring,” she finished.
He shook his head. “Deep, unending. The inner part of you simply exists, Laurel. You don’t realize how unusual that is. Throughout any storm in life, you are . . . you. Do you know how precious I find that quality in you?”
She raised her eyebrows, questioning, not understanding. “I’m not fishing for compliments here; I’m honestly confused.”
He smiled at her. “No, you would never fish for compliments. You don’t need them. “
“I do like them though.”
His soft laugh echoed in the night air. “And you deserve them. No, what I mean is nothing in your life can tear down that inner self — not your father’s weaknesses, not the lack of material comforts, not the trials of prematurely taking care of your family, not your mother’s troubles, not my leaving.”
“You make me sound cold and unfeeling.”
“There was a time when I thought you were, but . . . ” He leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Mmm, not cold at all. Sweet and warm.” He sighed. “I never told you why I came back here last summer.”
“To see Stuart. Susan and Gary met Stuart and Virginia, and they told you, and you called Stuart and they invited you for a visit . . . ”
“Maybe that was my reason on the surface, but mostly, I came back to see you.” He backed up against the hood of the car, keeping hold of her hands.
“You know, I’d never told anyone the whole story about how we broke up, not even Susan, although she knew we dated that summer. But last New Year’s, I told Eric. I’d tried to forget you, but it was pointless. You’re unforgettable.
“Eric’s a true friend, one of the few I’ve ever had, and he isn’t just smart, he’s wise too. I’m very fortunate to know him. He was watching me — he and Millie — and they knew I wasn’t happy down deep as you would say. Don’t get weirded out or anything, but after our conversation at New Year’s, he looked you up — found out you were still free and where you were — and he told me. Said I needed to either face you or let you go.”
“And that’s when you decided to come back?”
“No.” His lips twisted in the lopsided smile she loved. “I blew him off.”
“Oh.”
“A couple of weeks after New Year’s, we found out Fiona had cancer. That took over all our lives for a while. It all happened so fast, and by the end of April, Fiona was gone. It was my first encounter with the death of someone my age. Talk about a life-altering experience — not only to accept that young people can die but to watch what happens to everyone around them when it occurs.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat.
“Oh, James.”
Laurel’s eyes welled up, and a tear rolled down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. “How could I ever have thought you were cold, my only love?” he whispered. “There’s so much compassion in you.
“So there we were,” he went on, “dazed and muddling through, and it’s the end of May. I get this call from Susan, and she tells me about looking for a house here, about seeing Stuart and Virginia, and I get this . . . longing in my gut to come back to a place where I was untainted by the harsh realities of life — and death. To see my friend who was so much a part of my growing up. To see my parents for the first time in a long time. To see the only girl I’d ever said ‘I love you’ to.
“The first couple of times I saw you were a shock. Like you said, my life had changed, and I thought for sure you had changed too.”
“But I was the same old me?”
“Yes and no. You were still you, but . . . you were . . . more somehow. Stronger, sweeter, more beautiful. A full-grown Mountain Laurel.”
“When we were young and in love” — he grinned wider and pulled her into his arms to give her a squeeze — “I just lived in the moment. God, it was a wonderful time, wasn’t it?”
She smiled and nodded.
“But when I came back, I took some time and watched you, to see what you were really about so I could finally let you go and move on with my life. But you baffled me at every turn. I thought you would be angry with me, but instead, you were kind. I thought, maybe even hoped, I would find you bitter and alone, but I saw how everyone loves you and that other men wanted you.” He scowled. “Like Cooper Edwards.”
She started to reply, but he cut her off. “We’ll come back to him later.”
“I thought your family would have manipulated you into being at their beck and call, but although you still helped them out, you lived your own life too. I thought you were unfeeling, but then I saw how compassionate you were with John. And you were so tolerant of Heather and Carrie’s silliness, even though I tried to irritate you by flirting with them.”
“We’ll come back to them later,” she returned.
He looked away in embarrassment, but then he faced her once more. “The more I watched, the more you fascinated me, and then I kissed you that night. I was so scared, realizing how much I still wanted you and thinking there was no way you could still want me. So I ran. But that kiss sealed my fate. A couple weeks ago, I phoned John and we were talking about things, discussing our plans. When I hung up, I thought, ‘What the hell am I doing?’ Hadn’t I just spent the last six months telling myself that life was too short to live with regrets? I had to know if I still had a chance, so I came to your art show to see you . . . and there was Edwards always at your side, whispering in your ear, touching you like he had the right. God, I wanted to punch him.”
“Thank you for not doing that. I don’t know what I’d have done if you and Cooper started brawling at the biggest event of my career.”
“You’re welcome. I showed admirable restraint, I thought.” He stroked her hair. “But now, perhaps our timing is finally right. It’s a miracle that I found you again and at a time when you were free.”
She laughed, a wry little chuckle, and shook her head. “No worries there. I’ve been available since you left.”
He stared at her as if she were an alien. “Laurel?”
For the first time, she felt embarrassed in front of him and drew her arms up to hug herself. “You must think I’m so provincial — never to have seriously dated anyone after all this time.”
“Are you telling me there’s been no one else but me? In eight years?”
She shrugged. “Who am I going to meet here at Uppercross Hollow?”
“But you went to college . . . You travel places sometimes . . . You must have . . . with someone.”
Her eyes sought his and held them; a steady blue flame lit her from within. “You don’t understand. Maybe I thought about it every once in a while — God knows I was lonely — but I never could make myself act on it even if the opportunity arose. You see, I’ve never loved anyone else either.”
“I don’t believe this.”
She stepped back, shock and pain spreading across her face.
He shook his head suddenly, realizing how that sounded. “No, no . . . I believe you. I just don’t believe . . . How is it possible for me to feel so ecstatic about this and so much like a heel at the same time? I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“You loved me.”
“Past, present and future,” he whispered as he held out his arms and drew her close. “I will always love you, Laurel Elliot. Always.”
There was a long pause while she struggled to keep
her composure. She looked away, took a deep breath of the cold night air, tried to control the emotions building up inside her, and then she gave up and burst into tears. “I’m so sorry I hurt you all those years ago.”
“No, darling — I’m the one who’s sorry. Ssh . . . don’t cry. It’s okay.” He tried to keep her close, but she resisted, pushing against his chest with her forearms, shaking her head violently.
“And I’m sorry I hurt me when I let you go. I didn’t want to, but everything was happening so fast, and I didn’t know what to do. After you left, I mourned for you, but I thought you wouldn’t want me after I sent you away, and then later, Stuart told me you moved to California. I thought you were gone forever.”
He managed to keep her in his arms, petting, comforting — unsure what to do with tears from this woman he loved so much but had never seen cry.
“I needed to take a leap of faith to go with you or ask you to wait, and I just . . . I couldn’t do it, James, and I’m sorry.”
He drew her head to his shoulder and murmured to her. “You did the best you knew how at the time. And who knows? Maybe you were right. I thought I knew everything back then, so I pushed too hard. Maybe you were too much woman for the man I was.”
A soft laugh escaped through her tears, but then she grew serious. “I don’t know what would have happened if we had made different choices, but I know the pain and emptiness of living without you. I know that I still love you. And without a second thought or knowing what comes next, I know I can take that leap now — without even looking first — if it means I’ll be with you.”
There was a long pause. “Laurel, would you have come with me to California if I’d asked?”
She met his gaze straight on, her heart in her eyes, and nodded.
“Good God, you would have. I can’t believe I was so stupid.” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s been one ill-timed event after another for us, hasn’t it? But no more. If anything good came out of being away from you all these years, it’s that I’m dead sure about this. You are what I love — you are what I want. Everything else is secondary to that truth.”