Out of Exile

by Carla Cassidy

  Faster and faster he moved with her, swept into a maelstrom of emotion so intense he could no longer think. He could only feel.

  He felt his release building…building…and he cried out her name as he reached it, vaguely aware of her crying out, too.

  Afterward he rolled to the side of her, both of them not speaking but rather waiting for their breathing to resume a more normal rate.

  When his breathing was more regular, he propped himself up on an elbow and looked at her. She’d never looked as beautiful, with her hair tousled by his hands and her lips slightly swollen by his kisses.

  He reached out a hand and trailed a finger down the side of her face. She reached up and grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips. She kissed the palm, then folded his fingers as if to capture the kiss.

  “That’s the way I give Aunt Clara kisses,” she said, then frowned. “Matthew, she worried about you all when you were young. She was afraid for you all. She called Social Services several times on your father, but the reports came back that nothing was wrong, that you kids were all fine. And I got the impression from her that she would have visited more often, but your father bullied her.”

  Matthew sighed, not surprised by her words. He reached out and stroked a strand of her shiny hair. “I don’t blame her anymore,” he said thoughtfully. “Somehow seeing her in that hospital bed, hearing her tell me she was sorry, put it all into perspective for me. She was as helpless against my father as all of us were.”

  “You know what I always think about when I’m thinking of my childhood?” she asked, her eyes shining bright.

  “What?”

  “That old saying about that which doesn’t kill you makes you strong.”

  He smiled at her. “Then you and I should be very strong.”

  “I think we are,” she replied. “And there’s nothing wrong with being strong as long as we don’t fall into the trap of thinking we’re so strong we don’t need anyone else.”

  “You’re doing it again,” he said teasingly.

  “What?”

  “Counseling me.”

  She laughed, then sat up.

  “What are you doing?” He wasn’t finished holding her yet, wanted to hold her through the night and wake up at dawn with her in his arms.

  “Going to the bathroom,” she said. She started to get out of the bed, then suddenly rolled back against him. “Matthew, there’s somebody outside the window,” she said softly, her voice emanating urgency.

  Matthew tensed, adrenaline rushing through him. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, her eyes radiating fear. “Positive.”

  Matthew reached over and grabbed the revolver from his nightstand, then got out of bed and grabbed his jeans. He moved with an enforced casualness. “I’ll get us something to eat,” he said loudly as he pulled on his jeans.

  “Get something sweet,” Lilly said, playing along.

  Matthew nodded, and once he hit the doorway of the bedroom, he raced for the front door. The simmering anger that had always been a part of him burst into flame.

  White-hot fury filled him as he exploded out the front door and raced around the house. The idea of somebody watching him and Lilly in their lovemaking, the idea that somebody had spied on them and seen her beautiful nakedness released a killing rage inside him.

  Gun drawn, he turned the corner of the house and saw the window where Lilly had thought somebody had stood and peeked in on them. There was nobody there.

  He eyed the general vicinity, making certain that nobody was hiding in the deep shadows of the house, then directed his gaze outward from the house, recognizing that there were all kinds of places to hide in the darkness of the night.

  Moving closer to the window, his gun still ready, he saw where the brush had been tamped down by somebody standing there, and again rage soared through him.

  It was an anger born in his childhood, bred in the events of the last couple of weeks and now sharpened by this latest violation. And in that anger was regret that he’d allowed himself to make love to Lilly once again.

  He’d known better. It wasn’t fair to her and it wasn’t fair to himself, to hold her, to kiss her, to love her with no intent to keep her in his life.

  The realization of his own weakness where she was concerned merely served to stoke the fires of his fury higher. He checked around the perimeter of the house, then returned to the front door, where Lilly stood in the doorway now clad in a pale-pink robe.

  “Did you find anyone?” she asked, fear visible in her eyes as he stepped inside and carefully locked the door behind him.

  “No. Although the grass was crushed down just outside the window. Somebody was standing there recently.” He switched the trigger lock on the gun, his rage still a seething entity inside him.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “Somebody watched us while we were making love.”

  “Well, whoever it was isn’t watching anymore,” he said grimly. “You should go on up to bed. I’m going to stay up for a while and make sure everything is all right around here.”

  He saw the disappointment that briefly swept over her features and knew she’d been anticipating a night spent in his bed, in his arms. “What’s going on, Matthew? The rose…the gunshots and now this.” She shivered once again.

  He steeled himself against his own disappointment and instead embraced the anger that raged inside him. “I don’t know. I wish to hell I did, but I don’t. The best thing you can do right now is go to your room and lock the door. I don’t need any distractions at the moment.”

  His words and tone of voice were meant to inflict pain, and they hit the mark. He saw on her features the result of the hurtful words, and regret surged up inside him, momentarily usurping the anger.

  “Okay.” She belted her robe more tightly around her. “Then I’ll just say good-night.”

  He watched as she went up the stairs, fighting the impulse to call her back, take her in his arms and apologize for his words. But he couldn’t.

  He recognized now that there was a magic between them that couldn’t be denied. It had been there between them years ago when they’d been inexperienced teenagers, and it was still between them.

  In another lifetime, in another destiny, they would have belonged together. But in this lifetime it was simply impossible.

  It was family meeting night. Clara had been home from the hospital for two days, the Halloween party was to take place the next evening, and Matthew had never been as cold and as distant as he had been toward Lilly in the past three days since they had made love.

  Not only had he been distant and cold, the anger that seemed to have simmered all along was now out in the open and exposed. He snapped at her and the workers, growled at his brothers and in-laws, and kept himself completely isolated from everyone.

  The result of his bad mood stirred a surprising anger in Lilly. How dare he blow so hot and cold, one minute being a gentle, passionate lover, then transforming into a miserable, angry bastard.

  She didn’t understand him, didn’t understand the rage that seemed to be so much a part of him. But it frightened her. Oh, she wasn’t afraid of him, rather she was afraid for him.

  She knew now that he had an enormous capacity to love, that someplace deep inside him was a well of sweet tenderness, of caring and compassion. She couldn’t love him if that wasn’t so. But that capacity for loving was being smothered beneath the weight of his inexplicable rage.

  “You’re awfully quiet this evening,” Clara said, breaking into Lilly’s thoughts.

  The two women were seated on her porch, waiting for the time when they would go to the main house for the family meeting.

  “Just thinking,” Lilly returned.

  “About anything important?”

  Lilly grinned at her aunt. “Don’t you know that all my thoughts are important?” she teased, then sobered. “Actually, I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time I get back to Dallas. It’s possible if I return fairly soo
n I can get a position in one of the schools for the remainder of the school year.”

  “You miss work?” Clara asked.

  Lilly thought about it. The pain of losing Danny still pierced her heart, but she now had the distance to recognize she’d done everything in her power to help him.

  There was nothing more she could have done. She realized that some people were beyond help, their inner pain too intense. She suspected that Matthew was one of those people.

  “Yes, I miss work,” she finally replied, even though she was aware that it was a tiny white lie. What she missed was having something to think about, something to concentrate on other than Matthew Delaney.

  “You know I’ll hate to see you go,” Clara said softly. She smiled at Lilly, the gentle, loving smile of a mother. “I still remember that first time I met you.” Clara clucked her tongue against her teeth. “What a mess you were, so skinny and dirty, but I could see the beauty of your soul shining in those blue eyes of yours.”

  Lilly smiled and shook her head. “I still feel guilty about trying to steal your purse.”

  Clara waved her plump hands dismissively. “No need to feel guilty. You were a child trying to survive.” Her gaze was warm as it lingered on Lilly. “I know you think I did something wonderful for you, taking you into my home and into my heart. But, Lilly, you did something wonderful for me. You filled all the empty spaces in my life, and not a day goes by that I don’t thank the good Lord for bringing us together.”

  For a moment Lilly couldn’t speak. Love and thankfulness filled her to capacity. “I give thanks every day, too,” she finally managed to say.

  Clara nodded. “Yes, I’ll hate to see you go back to Dallas, but, I know it’s selfish for me to want to keep you here with me.”

  Lilly reached for her hand and smiled. “There isn’t a selfish bone in your body, but I do have to get back sooner or later.” Lilly released her hand and continued, “Besides, it won’t be too long before it’s Christmastime and I’ll be back here to visit.”

  “Christmas this year is going to be just lovely,” Aunt Clara exclaimed, her face lit with anticipation. “We’ll all be together, all of the Delaney children and their children. It’s going to be just wonderful.”

  “Yes, it will be,” Lilly replied. She only hoped that by Christmas her love for Matthew would have waned, become only a distant echo of memory that no longer hurt.

  “And I don’t want you going back to Dallas and worrying about me,” Aunt Clara said. “You heard what Dr. Howerton told me. I’m fit as a fiddle and all I have to do is watch my diet, take those little pills for my cholesterol and I should be just fine.”

  “And that’s a relief,” Lilly said. She looked at her wristwatch. “We’d better head over to the house. Everyone should be arriving within the next fifteen minutes or so.”

  “Yes, and I want to put on the coffee and make some iced tea for everyone,” Aunt Clara replied.

  Together the two women left Clara’s cottage and headed for the main house where they encountered Matthew in the foyer.

  “Matthew, dear, I’m going to make some coffee and iced tea for the meeting tonight,” Aunt Clara said. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

  “I don’t know why you’re going to all that trouble, it will just encourage them all to stay later than usual.” He scowled. “I’ll be in the office until everyone gets here.” He turned and disappeared down the hallway into the office.

  “Sometimes I think that boy needs a good spanking,” Aunt Clara muttered under her breath. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” she said, and headed in that direction.

  Lilly stood in the foyer, anger swelling inside her, an anger that had been building for the past three days. Without giving herself time to think or to change her mind, she stalked down the hallway and entered the office where Matthew sat behind a large oak desk.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said without preamble.

  “I’m busy,” he replied with the coolness in his voice that had been apparent for the past several days.

  “Tough.” She shut the door behind her, ignoring the narrowing of his smoke-gray eyes.

  For a moment she wasn’t sure what she’d come here to say. She gazed at him, taking in the sight of his wide shoulders beneath the white T-shirt, drinking in the careless tumble of his black hair, and fought the impulse to finger comb the silky strands into some semblance of order.

  But more than that, she wanted to touch him on a mental level, somehow reach him in the depths of his soul.

  “You told me that your father always punished you after Aunt Clara and I left here during those summers so long ago.”

  “And your point?”

  She walked over to the desk, placed her hands on it and leaned toward him. “I’m just wondering why, now that your father is gone, you’ve decided you need to punish me and everyone else in the general vicinity?”

  He averted his gaze from her and stood, keeping the desk between them. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not punishing anyone for anything.”

  “Yes, you are,” she countered. “And I have a feeling that for some reason you’ve been punishing your family for years.”

  She stepped back as he rounded the desk and came to stand directly in front of her. “You don’t know anything about anything,” he returned, his voice even-toned despite the ticking pulse in the side of his jaw.

  Again she fought the impulse to reach out and touch him, stroke the jawline where the pulse ticked. “I know that eventually the anger you carry inside you is going to eat you alive.”

  “I’m not Danny. You don’t have to worry about me swallowing a handful of pills or eating the end of a gun. I don’t intend to kill myself, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes dark and his features set in grim lines.

  “But don’t you see, Matthew?” She gazed at him beseechingly. How she loved each and every one of his strong, bold features. How she loved the familiar scent of him that filled the air of the small office. How she loved him, and that love filled her up inside.

  “You are killing yourself,” she continued softly. “You’re just choosing to do it more slowly, less dramatically than Danny did.”

  His eyes narrowed once again and the tick in his jaw grew more pronounced. “I told you before, Lilly, don’t counsel me.”

  “Then for God’s sake, help yourself,” she exclaimed with exasperation. “Your father was abusive. He was a hateful, angry man. But he is gone and you’re an adult now. You aren’t the only man in the world who had a bad father. Get over it, leave the past where it belongs…in the past.”

  She started to turn to leave, but was stopped as he reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “Is that what you’ve done, Lilly? Put your past behind you?” His eyes glittered dangerously.

  She raised her chin and met his gaze defiantly. “That’s exactly what I’ve done.”

  “If that’s true, then tell me why you’re thirty-five years old and still alone. Tell me why you’ve decided not to get married, to have a family.”

  His demand caught her off guard, and for a moment she didn’t know how to reply. “One thing has nothing to do with the other,” she finally said.

  For a long moment their gazes remained locked and Lilly felt a deep dark grief rip through her as she realized he was beyond her help, beyond her love.

  He released his hold on her arm. “Why do you care, anyway? You keep nagging me to open myself up, stop keeping myself isolated from everyone. But you’re going to run back to your own little safe, solitary life in Dallas. You aren’t so different from me, Lilly. You’ve just fooled yourself into pretending that you are.”

  His words created a renewed burst of anger inside her. This time it was she who grabbed hold of his arm, not wanting to give him a chance to back away from her.

  “We are nothing alike,” she said angrily, appalled by the tears that suddenly stung her eyes. “You ignore your
enormous capacity to love. You are so eaten up with the rage of your childhood, you can’t get past it to open up your heart.”

  She dropped her hand from his arm and stepped back from him. “But I know I’m capable of loving because I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  She wasn’t sure who was more astonished by her words. She certainly hadn’t intended to tell Matthew her feelings for him, and the shock on his face indicated he hadn’t expected the confession.

  “That’s crazy,” he said. For the second time since she’d walked into the office, he averted his gaze from hers. “You’re confusing good sex with love.”

  “Don’t demean it,” she said softly. The sting of tears once again burned at her eyes. “And don’t tell me that I’m confused. I’m thirty-five years old, not some teenager besotted by my first sexual experience. I know what I feel and I’m not going to let you taint it or make a mockery of it.”

  He stepped backward and raked a hand through his hair, his eyes no longer emanating a dangerous anger but rather a tortured darkness.

  “Lilly, I can’t love you. I can’t love anyone.” His voice was thick with emotion. He drew a deep breath and moved back to stand behind the desk, as if he wanted the obstacle between them. “I’m sorry if I led you on…somehow gave you false expectations.”

  “You didn’t.” All she wanted to do was escape, run from the humiliation of spilling what was in her heart. “I just hope—” she swallowed hard against her tears “—I just hope you can eventually figure out the source of all your anger and get past it.”

  She turned and pulled open the door and left the office, tears now streaming down her cheeks. She raced upstairs for the privacy of her room, desperately needing some time alone.

  Once there, she fell to the bed and wept tears of sadness, not so much for herself, but for him, for Matthew. If he continued on his path of isolation, he would never know the joy of love. He would never hear the sweet chords of a duet, know the unity of a couple, the completeness of a pair.

  Then her tears became ones of self-pity. She wept because she knew he was right. She had carried the scars of her past for all these years, and it was those scars that had kept her alone.