Promises Made- Promises Kept

by Jaclyn Rosamond

  He shifted to look at me, his face reflecting so many emotions I couldn’t name any, except perhaps distress.

  ‘Talk to me, tell me what happened.’

  ‘Help me sit up first.’

  He helped me into a semi-reclined position, plumping pillows behind me. Yes, I thought, he’s done this before. What a gift he would have been for his dying wife.

  The cast on my leg was awkward and he noticed it for the first time, lips tightening, as he shifted the covers to tuck a pillow underneath my knee, taking the weight off my leg.

  Seated in an armchair pulled up close to the bed, he waited.

  ‘Are you in much pain?’

  I looked away, not wanting to admit it. Weary, I nodded. ‘Yes, my arm hurts.’ And suddenly the whole sorry story tumbled out as he held my good hand.

  ‘Jade didn’t tell you any of this, did she?’ I asked, when I ran out of words and stumbled to a halt.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Jade? How did she come to hear of this and I didn’t?’

  ‘I asked Mum to call you and Jade answered again. She said she’d pass on the message, but she didn’t pass on the one when I called last month, so I didn’t really expect her to pass on this one.’

  His eyes flashed a sudden anger. ‘Interfering little bitch,’ he said. ‘Which call of yours did I miss last month?’

  ‘I called to let you know Bianca had died, but you didn’t get back to me. I sent a text a few days later.’

  His face had undergone a range of expressions, from indignation, to aggrieved with a flash of anger and finally to regret. He cursed softly. ‘The two times you most needed me. Poor Rose, you must have thought I was a bastard.’ He cupped my cheek. ‘I would never have not returned your call. You know that, don’t you?’

  Relief flooded me. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’ I flushed scarlet. ‘Is she the woman you’ve talked about? Your mystery woman? Eddie told me you’d come to pick up your girlfriend and take her back to Australia.

  He jerked upright in his seat, appalled. ‘Is that what you thought? Good God, no! I wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole!’

  ‘Good. She doesn’t sound a patch on your wife! She told me she was in bed with you when I called and I believed her.’

  His eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Not true.’ He frowned, then his brow cleared. ‘I get it. The only time we so-called “shared a bed” is the night we had a rowdy party and flaked out on the beach. I woke up to find her sleeping on half of my sleeping bag with her arm around my waist. I was more than a little embarrassed, but I let it drop, thinking she’d been too drunk to know what she was doing.’

  ‘Cal, she called here to warn me off. She told Mum she was your girlfriend and I shouldn’t call again.’

  ‘Did she now?’ he said, voice ominous. ‘The lying bitch. I didn’t know she’d been messing with my phone. I’m sorry. She told a bunch of lies to your mother, to suit her own ends. She’s not my type, not even a little bit. Forget her. She’s in Oz, that’s where she’ll stay.’

  He hadn’t chosen the wrong woman.

  That still left his mystery woman. I didn’t have the guts to ask him about her.

  ‘How long are you in England for this time?’ I asked, enjoying his hands wrapped around my good hand. ‘You don’t have to rush off again soon, do you?’

  He paused for a long moments before answering, eyes never leaving my face. ‘I think I’m done with travelling,’ he said finally. ‘I loved my time in Australia, but I’ve been homesick the last few weeks. Instead of planning my next working holiday in Hawaii, I’ve been googling houses to buy in a sixty-kilometer radius of London.’

  I had a sense of impending doom. He was ready to settle down with his girlfriend. Crushed by the weight of my helplessness, misery washed over me.

  Cal, alert to a change in my demeanor, touched my face. ‘Sorry, Rose, I’ve exhausted you. I’d better leave. You’ve turned a delicate shade of green.’

  ‘Don't leave. You’ve only just arrived.’ I clutched his hand.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, Rose, I promise. Let me make you more comfortable.’

  By the time he’d adjusted pillows and I lay flat, I knew any color in my face had leached away. Alarmed, Cal went to look for my mother.

  Anxious, she hurried in, brushed hair off my forehead and tucked me in. ‘Rest now, Rose. Dinner will be ready soon. I’ve made roast lamb, your favorite.’

  I nodded, eyes flicking to Cal, willing him not to leave, but too proud to ask.

  ‘Don’t worry, Rose, I’m staying. I’m just going to get acquainted with your parents.’

  Reassured, I closed my eyes and dropped into a dreamless sleep.

  Mum woke me in time for dinner, which they all brought in on trays. Cal’s laidback presence calmed me. I couldn’t think about what he might have to tell me.

  ‘Roast lamb is still my favorite meal.’ Cal told my mother. ‘Despite everything I’ve tried on different continents.’

  Mum received his compliment with a sidelong glance. Cal knew how to score brownie points with her, and he meant it in a way Eddie had never understood. Mum saw at once he wasn’t sucking up.

  Ever thoughtful, Mum had cut my food into manageable bite sizes. No mortifying assistance otherwise needed.

  Mum and Dad had been getting to know him while I’d slept. They seemed impressed.

  Dad eyed Cal’s long ponytail with amusement. I guessed he remembered his own conservative youth. He’d never rebelled against his parents’ strict rules and regulations. As much as he’d wanted to, he’d never grown his hair long. While some men in their sixties, and older look great with long hair, Dad would never be cool enough to pull it off. He had to make do with his ghastly lawyerly wig.

  Mum was a different matter, though. She’d missed 1960s Woodstock by being a few years shy of adulthood, making up for it in the seventies with hair down past her waist, bohemian clothes and colorful jewelry. She’d gone barefoot as often as possible in England’s watery climate and during her uni years had smoked pot and talked about revolution and defying ‘the man’; but like most hippies and hippie wannabees, she’d ended up as much establishment as even her more radical peers.

  Covertly, I watched my parents. They liked Cal. Despite his long hair and a few days of stubble, he was the sort of man who fitted into their world. Even if they hadn’t liked him, he wouldn’t have been overly concerned. He was comfortable in his own skin and they responded to that.

  After tea and coffee they left the two of us alone.

  Cal dozed off, sprawled in the armchair, head drooping, jetlag catching up on him. Any moment now he was going to jolt awake. I scrutinized him from top to toe.

  Dammit. What a dazzling specimen! Long, lean legs, trim waist and wide shoulders – nicely proportioned. Strong and muscled from a sporting life, his hair bleached caramel and blonde from the sun. His hands were strong and capable, his nails short and neat. He was also one of the handsomest men I’d ever met, with laughing blue-grey eyes, a strong jaw, straight nose and laughter lines around his eyes and mouth.

  What was he doing here? Why bother with me? Having just undergone a harrowing wakeup call of my own shortcomings, highlighted by the overwhelming sense of loss of everything that mattered most in my life, I couldn’t understand why Cal was sitting here in my room. I wriggled into a comfortable position to ogle him.

  Something elusive lurked just out of reach in the dim recesses of my fuzzy brain. I reached for it, but it slipped away. I let it go, knowing it was futile to grasp for the intangible. If it was important, it would resurface sometime.

  When we met again in Alaska, Cal said he’d met someone he hoped would notice him one day. Where was she? Why wasn't he with her? Was she the woman he’d made a flying visit to see in January? Was he seeing her again soon? Why visit me straight off the plane in January and again today?

  And then, the elusive thought materialized. Like a thunderbolt.

  Could that woman be me?

  My ey
es popped wide open. Was I really, really stupid, missing all the clues? Filled with amazement one moment and doubt the next, I considered the clues. Everything made sense if I discarded Leah’s assertion about New Zealand. And if I dismissed Eddie’s certainty Cal had collected his girlfriend on his way back to Australia.

  Oh God! If it was me, that night back in Chicago, filled with lust I’d have jumped him! And instead of spending Christmas in England, I’d have met up with Cal in Australia. No Bianca. No Eddie. No accident.

  Could there be more than one woman who fitted the bill? My mouth formed a silent O as realization crashed through me.

  Cal, in love with me?

  Careful, my brain warned me. My heart contracted with tenderness, even though I couldn’t be one hundred per cent sure I’d guessed right. Even as I lay there savoring the possibilities, I fell fast asleep.

  My eyes opened. I lay still, half-reclined on the pillows. Cal held the awful photo Shona had taken. Deep in thought, he leaned forward in the chair, legs planted apart, elbows propped on his knees, head down. He looked - what? Something indefinable.

  I shifted and his face lit up.

  ‘At last,’ he said, with a cheeky smile.

  ‘Sorry, was I snoring?’

  ‘Let’s just say you were breathing heavily.’ His eyes twinkled.

  I stuck my tongue out.

  ‘Hey,’ he protested. ‘It was a dainty snore.’

  I giggled. ‘You’re not as dainty when you snore.’

  He flushed. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, I’m just teasing. You didn’t snore at all. Is your jetlag catching up on you or can I ask you something?’

  ‘I’m tired,’ he admitted, sitting back and rubbing his eyes, ‘but I promise to answer serious questions with at least ten per cent of my brain.’

  I wanted him awake for what I had to ask.

  ‘It can wait until tomorrow, there’s no rush.’ Suddenly timid, I backed off, afraid of ruining our friendship.

  ‘Ask away.’

  ‘Cal, who is your girlfriend?’

  He was taken aback, eyebrows shooting up. ‘Huh?’

  I ploughed on. ‘When you were here in January you told Eddie you were visiting your girlfriend during a quick stopover.’

  ‘He told you that?’ His eyes shuttered for a moment. ‘Maybe I should have punched him then. I felt like it. Nah.’ Regretful, he shook his head. ‘His wife was dying, and I understood what he might be feeling. I don’t suppose punching his lights out would have been diplomatic under the circumstances.’

  My eyes twinkled. ‘I wish you had. Punched him, I mean.’ I waited a beat. ‘Was he lying?’

  He looked chagrined. ‘Not really.’ He rubbed his neck, not quite meeting my eyes. ‘She wasn’t exactly my girlfriend, though. I just didn’t want to answer nosy questions from your ex.’

  I’d embarrassed him, but I was making headway. ‘Good,’ I responded, pushing myself up in the bed. ‘Because he’s a bastard. He took a lot of pleasure in telling me you had a girlfriend, and you were taking her back to Australia.’

  Cal was aghast. ‘Little prick! I thought he’d have been thanking his lucky stars you were able to drop out of your life and look after his wife?’

  I gave a bitter laugh. ‘No. Not really.’ I swallowed around a lump in my throat. ‘He never really said it, but he wished everything happened to me, not her.’

  Cal was appalled. ‘The little shit!’ Scorn flashed across his face. ‘In God’s name, why?’

  ‘All sorts of crappy reasons, I suppose. He hates me. He wasn’t rational or reasonable. He couldn’t get over his ex-wife agreeing to care for his dying wife.’

  His face hardened. ‘Complicated dynamics.’ He studied me for a few moments. ‘You look exhausted.’

  ‘I am. But you coming here has given me a huge boost.’ Thrills of anticipation orbited madly around my stomach. I circled back. ‘You haven’t answered my question. Who is she?’

  Lips twisted, his eyes searched my face. ‘Who do you think, Rose?’ His voice emerged huskily. He cleared his throat. ‘Who was the woman I came straight from the airport to see? In January and now?’ His ears flamed red. Chin lifted, he took a calming breath, unflinching gaze meeting mine. ‘It was always you from the moment I met you, even though you were married.’

  Words tumbled from me, thoughtless words. ‘Oh, Cal, I didn’t realize. You must think I’m really dumb. I’m sorry.’ Wrong words, hiding a flood of joy.

  ‘Sorry for what exactly?’ Face strained and wary, his hands fisted, as if to ward off a blow.

  ‘Wait. Don’t take that the wrong way.’ I beckoned. ‘Sit next to me. You’re too far away.’

  Guarded, he sat on the bed.

  I took his hand and tugged him closer. ‘Kiss me.’

  Leaning in, eyes alight, he cupped my face, fingers tangling in my hair and pressed a light kiss on my lips.

  Drawing back, his eyes were questions. As were mine.

  ‘Well?’ My word came out a sigh.

  ‘Again?’

  I nodded.

  Our kiss deepened, tongues colliding. My good hand slid around his neck, straining to be closer, heart pounding, body craving.

  Breath harsh, he leaned back, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me close, burying his face in my neck. He whispered, ‘I love you, Rose Gardener.’

  ‘I love you, Caleb Warwick.’ Bubbles of joy erupted inside me. ‘You numpty.’

  Laughter rumbled in his chest. ‘Numpty?’ His eyes sought mine. ‘You love me?’

  ‘Of course I love you! I fell in love with you in Alaska. But then I had to dial it back, because you and your sister muddled it up by telling me it was some other woman. And you,’ here I poked his chest, ‘told me not be nosy. What was I supposed to think?’

  ‘That I’m an idiot. And I’ve wasted time when we could have been together.’

  ‘Hence I called you a numpty.’ My eyes danced as I said this. We truly had wasted too much time.

  ‘And in Chicago?’

  ‘Oh my God! In Chicago I wanted to jump you. There you were, stripping off in front of me, my fingers itching to touch every inch of you. I had to run away before I made a complete prat of myself. I was not only in love with you, I was also in lust with you.’ I smiled. ‘And now that I’ve stripped my soul bare, it’s your turn.’

  ‘Can I?’ He indicated lying next to me on the bed.

  My smile told him yes.

  He kicked off his shoes and settled his long body on the bed. We wriggled into a comfortable spot facing each other. I resented the covers between us, grudging current limitations imposed by my injuries.

  His fingers stroked my cheek. ‘You love me?’ he said again, wonder on his face.

  ‘Why is that so hard to believe?’ I captured his hand, lacing our fingers together.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d even noticed me.’

  ‘Are you kidding? Do you ever look in a mirror? Every woman notices you, you doofus. Which makes me the lucky one.’ I smiled, a triumphant, blood fizzing smile. ‘Of course I wanted you. In every possible way.’

  ‘You want to know how I felt about you?’

  ‘From the beginning.’

  ‘Falling in love with you was like the most painful experience I could have.’ He kissed my hand. ‘There you were, married to some jerk who thought he was some sort of superior git. He eyed every available woman, ignoring the only woman worth anything. He could make love to you any time. I was so possessive of you I wanted to smack him around, tell him to get lost.’

  ‘My caveman,’ I murmured, watching his face crinkle into surprised laughter.

  ‘Yes.’ His hand slid from the small of my back to cup my butt. ‘All mine?’

  ‘You’d better believe it.’ I wriggled my hand under his shirt, exploring bare skin, skimming up to his chest, sensitive areas jumping at my touch.

  Hauling me to him, we settled in for serious kissing, only pulling apart to catch our breath.
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br />   Flushed, I said, ‘feel this.’ I placed his hand over my pounding heart.

  He cupped my breast; without volition, my body arched into him.

  ‘Do you know what you do to me?’ he said, eyes dark with hunger.

  ‘I can imagine.’ I added a wicked grin for him to see.

  He took my exploring hand and placed it over his jeans. I couldn’t miss his erection pressing hard against my hand, fingers curving to caress. Lust inundated me.

  ‘Cal….’ I croaked out.

  He whipped my hand away. ‘I know.’ He kissed my fingertips. ‘Not the time. Or the place.’ He rested his forehead against mine. ‘All I’ve ever wanted is to be one with you, deep inside you, always together. I’ve followed you around the world, desperately hoping you’d see me and feel the same way.’

  Mesmerized, I touched his face. ‘Always,’ I breathed out on a whisper.

  ‘Marry me.’

  Startled, my lips curved into a grin.

  ‘Fast worker!’

  He cupped my butt again, bumping pelvises. I shivered, a whimper of desire escaping. ‘Is that any way to answer a proposal?’ His grin was cocky.

  ‘Let me think about it.’

  ‘Let me help you decide.’ His mouth met mine, exploring, deepening. One hand lifted to my breast, thumb finding an already rigid nipple. ‘Thought so,’ he murmured against my mouth, a hint of laughter in his voice.

  Hand on his chest, I pushed back, gaze locked on him. ‘Marry me.’

  Nonplussed, he gazed right back.

  ‘Now we’re equal,’ I said. ‘Will you marry me? Because I will definitely marry you. And love you. And cherish you until the day I die.’

  Breath caught, he stroked my hair, eyes adoring me. ‘I will marry you and love you for all time, through happiness and hardship. I will always love you.’

  Smiling through happy tears, we clung to each other.

  ‘I think we’re getting married,’ I murmured, lips pressed to his neck. He snuggled us together more comfortably.