by Ruth Langan
Libby Conway spotted her and hurried over, looking her up and down as she did. “Wow. You didn’t buy that in Devil’s Cove.”
Emily laughed. “New York. Last year when I was there for a medical convention.”
Libby lowered her voice. “You’re not going to believe this. Guess who showed up tonight?”
Emily shrugged.
“Robeson Ryder.”
“Robeson?” Emily’s eyes lit with pleasure at the mention of the fiery civil rights leader who now made his home in Chicago. “Oh, that’s wonderful. He’d sent word earlier that he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it. My grandmother will be so happy.”
“Not to mention a few hundred people here tonight who see him as their savior.” Libby glanced around as the crowd continued to grow. “It’s strange having so many unfamiliar faces in town. Where did they all come from?”
Emily squeezed her hand. “Isn’t it a wonderful tribute to my grandmother that so many of her former students returned just to honor her?” She looked up. “Speaking of which, I just spotted our guest of honor arriving. I promised I’d escort her into the ballroom and see her to her table. I don’t want her to be alone for even a minute.”
Minutes later, as she linked her arm through her grandmother’s, it occurred to Emily that her worries had been groundless. Her grandmother may have decided to stop teaching, but her mind and her eyesight were as sharp as ever. Even without the name tags, their former teacher seemed to know the name of every person who walked up to her. It was obvious from the way Bert greeted them that she’d kept up with their lives. In many instances she knew where they lived and how they earned their living, as well as the names of their spouses and the numbers of their children.
Emily snagged a waiter and asked him to fetch their guest of honor a cup of tea after Bert rejected the suggestion of champagne. “I want to have a clear head tonight,” her grandmother said in an aside. “I’ll have my champagne later, when Frank and I are alone.”
Emily was just turning back when she felt a hand at her shoulder and looked up to see the high-school custodian Albert Sneed. The mere touch of him put her on edge. Even when Emily had been a student, there had been something about Albert that had put her off. To the other students he’d seemed friendly enough, with silly jokes and a cackling laugh. But she’d never been able to warm to him. Even after all these years, she found herself thinking that his eyes seemed a little too hard, his manner a little too sly.
“Thought I’d offer my best to Mrs. B.”
She managed a smile. “That’s nice, Albert. She’ll appreciate the fact that you came to see her.”
“It’s fun seeing all the old faces, Doc. So many of you pretty girls grew up to be pretty women.”
Before she could reply she felt a hand on her arm and looked over to see Prentice smiling down at her. “Hello, Prentice. How’s Will feeling?”
“Much better, thanks to you. I’d like to show my appreciation. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thanks. I have some things to see to.”
“Okay. Maybe later. Thanks again, Emily. It’s always nice to get Will calmed down.”
“You’re welcome.” Emily took a step back. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to the stage to introduce our guest of honor. I hope,” she added, “you won’t mind saying a few words to the assembled.”
“If you’d like.”
“I would.”
“Then consider it done.”
She started toward the stage before she realized that in the confusion, Albert was gone. She could have hugged Prentice for his timely distraction.
Emily sat beside her grandmother while former pupils offered their words of praise. First on the stage was Robeson Ryder. A skilled orator whose father had been a projectionist at the local movie theatre, Robeson’s words stirred the audience as he talked about the teacher who had helped shape his ideals, and how those ideals had now taken him to a very public arena. He was a man who had dined with presidents and kings, but retained a sense of humility that was appealing. He had an amazing presence, handsome and proud without a trace of arrogance. His voice was a deep rich baritone that could move the crowd to tears or to cheers.
By the time he turned the stage over to Prentice Osborn, Robeson Ryder had the audience on its feet cheering him.
Prentice was no slouch at working the crowd, either. He had them laughing, nodding in agreement and applauding as he told funny stories about himself and his days as a pupil of Mrs. Alberta Brennan. Even his old teacher laughed aloud.
When he was finished Emily strode to the microphone. “Thank you, Robeson, Prentice. Our little town is privileged to have two such famous sons.”
From her position on stage she caught sight of a figure at the back of the room. For the space of a heartbeat the crowd seemed to melt away. All she could see was that face from the past. A strong chiseled jaw and lean handsome features. Those dark poet’s eyes meeting hers and holding her gaze when she tried to look away.
She had to swallow before she could go on. “We have another celebrity in our midst. I wonder if Jason Cooper, bestselling author, would care to say a few words about his former teacher.”
It seemed, to Emily’s ears, that there was a collective sigh sweeping through the room as the tall figure clad in a dark suit made his way to the stage, though there were a few, she noted, who hissed with annoyance. His book had stirred up strong feelings both of admiration and resentment in their town.
Jason didn’t so much walk as stalk, glancing neither right nor left as the crowd seemed to part for him.
Emily set the microphone on the stand and moved to the far side of the stage, folding her hands together and hoping she didn’t appear to be watching too closely as Jason Cooper climbed the stairs and paused center stage.
True to form, he seemed abrupt, edgy, as he picked up the microphone and said, “I came here to honor Mrs. Brennan, who saw something in me all those years ago that I hadn’t even seen in myself.” He turned away from the crowd and stared at the old woman who was watching him so avidly. “Whatever success I enjoy, Mrs. B, it’s because of you. You changed my life, and for that I’ll be eternally grateful.”
He set the microphone back on its stand and strode down the steps, pausing beside his old teacher to press a kiss to her cheek.
Bert was beaming with pride. As Jason walked away, Emily thought she saw her grandmother wipe a tear from her eye.
She stepped to the microphone. “My grandmother has asked me to thank all of you for coming tonight. We hope you can stay for our week-long celebration, which will include a garden luncheon sponsored by the alumni association, an original play entitled An Orchid for Mrs. B, sponsored by the high school, and a chance for individual visits with her throughout the week. Our celebration will culminate in a banquet and fireworks next weekend.”
There was more applause before the crowd started to surge forward to surround not only the guest of honor, but also the celebrities who had spoken on her behalf.
Emily watched as Robeson and Prentice were engulfed in waves of people eager to shake their hands. While they worked the crowd, Jason beat a hasty retreat toward the exit.
Emily picked up her beaded bag and headed for the door of the now-empty ballroom. She’d stayed behind to check with the head of catering about the next day’s luncheon in the Harbor House gardens. Satisfied with the details, she was flushed with pleasure. Especially since the weatherman was cooperating. There wasn’t a trace of rain in the forecast.
She made her way through the lobby, hearing the sounds of voices and laughter coming from the bar, and stepped out onto the porch. As she crossed to the stairs a figure stepped out of the darkness beside one of the pillars.
“Oh.” She caught her breath and brought a hand to her throat in a gesture of surprise. “Jason. You startled me.”
“Sorry.” He’d removed his jacket and tie and unbuttoned his shirt at the throat. His hair was slightly ruffled from the night breeze
. In his hand was a tumbler of pale liquid. “I was just having a nightcap.” At her lifted brow he amended, “Just soda. My father’s legacy left me with no taste for alcohol. Join me?”
“No, I…” She froze when he stepped directly in front of her.
“We didn’t get a chance to say hello in there.” He was staring at her with that same dark, intense look that had always had the ability to do strange things to her heart. “Stay a minute, Emily.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse. But all the years of anger and anguish, of fears and tears, dissolved when he looked at her that way. Besides, wasn’t he the reason for the killer dress? Why waste it? “I suppose I could spare a few minutes.”
He indicated the glider tucked away on one side of the porch, away from the winking lanterns. “The waiters have quit serving out here for the night. But if you’ll wait there I’ll get you a drink at the bar. What’ll you have?”
She shrugged. “The same as you.”
Minutes later he returned carrying a second glass and sat down beside her. After handing her a drink he touched the rim of his tumbler to hers. “Here’s to Mrs. B.”
Emily smiled in the darkness. “To my grandmother.”
They sipped in silence.
Emily leaned back, enjoying the slight motion of the glider. “She was so happy to see so many former pupils here tonight. But I think she was happiest to see you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I saw a tear in her eye after you spoke.”
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “It came from my heart.”
“I know. That’s what made it so special for her. You didn’t have any agenda. You weren’t here to sell your books.”
He gave a sound that might have been a laugh or a sneer.
“Congratulations on your success, Jase.” Emily wasn’t even aware that she’d reverted to his old nickname. But he was. At the sound of it he went very still. “I always knew one day you’d find your life’s calling.”
“Yeah. You and Mrs. B. You two knew more than I did. I figured by this time in my life I’d probably be in jail. Or dead.”
“You were never a troublemaker, Jase. You were just troubled. There’s a difference.”
“I wish you’d told that to the cops who routinely picked me up just for walking down the street.”
Emily sighed. “Yes. You and Robeson, as I recall.”
“At least he knew why he was being singled out. It was the color of his skin. As for me, I guess they figured with a father like mine, I was a likely suspect. If there was any trouble, they came looking to see if I had an alibi.”
“It was so unfair.”
He heard the temper in her voice. It was something he’d never forgotten. That hot sultry voice that could cool by degrees whenever she got angry. “It’s just the way it was, Emily.”
“But I still get angry thinking about it.”
“Don’t.” His voice was barely a whisper. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.” He turned to her. “I heard about your father. I’m sorry. Carrie said you came home and took care of him until he passed away. That couldn’t have been easy.”
She found herself marveling at the way he’d smoothly changed the subject. “Even healthy my father was…difficult. The stroke added to his frustration. But I’m glad I made the decision to come home. Though he never said so, I could see that he was pleased. And when he asked me to consider staying on for the sake of his patients, I agreed. At least for a while.”
“So the move home isn’t permanent?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t decided. I’m taking it a day at a time.”
“That’s how I’ve taken every day since I left Devil’s Cove.” He drained his glass and set it aside. “One day at a time.”
“I was worried sick when you left.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She took a deep breath and decided to plow ahead. “Every day I figured I’d hear from you. And every day that passed was worse than the day before. Finally I started to believe that you’d be found dead hundreds of miles from here. You have no idea what you did to me by leaving without a word.”
The silence stretched between them, and she realized that he had no intention of explaining. Even after all these years.
She felt like a complete fool. “I’d better go. I have an early appointment tomorrow.” She got to her feet and turned away to set her half-empty glass on a wicker table. When she turned back, she found Jason standing directly in front of her, staring at her with such intensity, her heart took a quick bounce.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
She started past him. “There’s no need. It’s parked at the curb.”
“Emily.” He put a hand on her arm. Just a touch, but she felt the heat as surely as though she’d been held to a flame.
He turned her, keeping his hands at her upper arms as he drew her close enough to kiss. And though it was her intention to order him to stop, she couldn’t speak. In truth, she wanted this every bit as much as he did. The thrill of anticipation shot through her.
He kept his eyes steady on hers as he lowered his lips to hers. Just a butterfly brush of mouth to mouth at first, testing, tasting. Then with a murmur of approval he took it deeper, until her lips warmed, softened, parted. He saw her lashes flutter, then close. Felt the way her breath came out in a sigh, filling his mouth with the taste of her.
He could feel the tension in her as he moved his hands slowly across her shoulders, down her back, drawing her closer, then closer still, until her body was imprinted on his. Her perfume was something light as spring rain. He drank her in, letting the taste, the scent, the feel of her, seep into his pores.
She felt like heaven in his arms. And tasted like sin.
Though she itched to touch him, Emily kept her hands firmly at her sides. If she felt a sudden rush of heat and her focus became blurred for a moment, she forced herself to remain perfectly still until her composure returned. And if the world seemed to tilt at a crazy angle as he deepened the kiss, she patiently waited until it settled.
He lifted his head and kept his hands at her shoulders, as much to steady himself as her. He was aware that she hadn’t reached out to touch him. But he’d felt the way she’d trembled when they’d come together. It gave him a measure of satisfaction to know that she hadn’t been as unaffected by their kiss as she let on.
“Good night, Emily.”
“Good night.” Her voice sounded breathy in her own ears, and she hoped he didn’t notice.
On legs of rubber she made her way across the porch to the steps. The walk along the pathway to her car seemed like the longest she’d ever taken.
She had the strangest sensation that someone besides Jason was watching her. Someone standing in the shadows. She quickened her pace. Once in the car she turned on the ignition and fastened her belt, then put the car in gear and started down the street. On the wheel, her hands were sweating.
She touched a trembling finger to her lips. It occurred to her that David’s kisses had never had this effect on her. In fact, in her whole life, no one’s kisses had ever affected her like this.
No one but Jase.
But nothing could ever come of it. There were too many years and too many secrets between them.
Jason stayed in the shadows, watching the car’s taillights disappear along the darkened street.
The door to the old inn opened, spilling light onto the porch. A burst of laughter announced several couples who’d been drinking at the bar. They never even noticed him as they hurried past him down the sidewalk toward a nearby bed-and-breakfast.
He heard a rustling of footsteps near the porch, but could see no one, and dismissed it as an animal.
As silence settled once more, Jason crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his back against the pillar, deep in thought.
When he’d walked into the ballroom tonight and caught sight of Emily on stage, it had been a tremendous jolt. Even
though he’d been mentally preparing himself for that moment, he’d felt as though all the air had been squeezed from his lungs. He’d seen her so many times in his dreams. Yet the dreams couldn’t hold a candle to reality. The years had added to her beauty. She was slimmer now, no longer a girl but a woman. The dress she’d worn had displayed every line and curve to her best advantage. Her hair was shorter now, falling just to her shoulders. When it had brushed his knuckles, it was every bit as soft as he’d remembered.
Then there was her taste. Sweet, yet laced with a hint of tartness. Emily Brennan had always been full of surprises. Despite her easygoing nature, there’d been a willful streak in her. A fierce independence that sometimes took a walk on the wild side. Her friends had recognized it. So had her father. Dr. Christopher Brennan had feared it, with good reason. Emily had a fondness for picking up strays. What else could account for her choice of friends? Though her father was a wealthy, successful doctor, she refused to hang out with the children of equally wealthy, successful businessmen in the town. Instead she chose to be with Jason and their friends, Carrie and Cory Lester, Robeson Ryder and the rest of the strange assortment of misfits who’d clung together through four years at Devil’s Cove High.
Odd, he thought, how much they’d all changed. Cory, the wild man, was now an air force captain, Carrie the mother of a ten-year-old. And Robeson had found a healthy, legitimate outlet for all that anger.
Jason glanced at his watch. It was time he turned in. He had a full day planned tomorrow. He’d promised to go to Carrie’s place to meet her daughter.
As he stood, he felt the hairs at the nape of his neck bristle, and sensed a presence nearby. He glanced around, but could see no one. Annoyed that he was letting his imagination play such tricks, he let himself into the hotel foyer.
He took the elevator to his floor and thought of his answer to Carrie’s question this afternoon. He’d said then that he’d come back to Devil’s Cove simply to honor Mrs. B.