Reckless Moon

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “Bram?” Beth said softly.

  His eyes opened.

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “Yeah.” It was an exhalation more than a word.

  “What did you say?”

  “What you told me to say,” Bram replied simply.

  “Did he understand you?”

  Bram nodded.

  “How do you know?”

  “He cried,” Bram said. “He just lay there, as still as a statue, and the tears rolled down his face.”

  Beth took a step toward him, and he came the rest of the way. He held her a long time before he said, “What’s that sound?”

  “It’s raining.”

  Bram released her and walked to the French doors, which opened onto the rear yard. He pushed them outward and stepped across the threshold of the patio, drinking in the freshened air. Beth came and stood behind him, just inside the house.

  “What time is it?” Bram asked, not turning around.

  “About seven. Come inside and sit down, Bram. You must be exhausted. Do you want something to eat?”

  He obeyed, shutting the doors after him. “No food,” he said, gesturing for her to join him. “Just you.”

  He sat in the deep chair he’d occupied before and pulled Beth onto his lap. When she settled against him his sigh was so long and so broken that it sounded almost like a sob.

  “Your heart is beating,” Beth said, putting her ear against his chest.

  “I hope so,” he answered, a smile in his voice.

  The rain increased in volume, pounding on the roof, filling the twilit room with a dull roar.

  “Bram?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Everything is going to be all right.”

  He didn’t answer. When Beth sat up to look at him he was asleep.

  She curled up again, sliding her arms around his waist. She was tired, too, and as she listened to the sound of the rain her eyelids became heavy.

  In minutes she had joined him in slumber.

  * * *

  They were awakened abruptly by the sound of raised voices in the hall.

  “I told you that you can’t come in here,” Mrs. Harkness was saying. “I was instructed not to admit anyone.”

  “I’m not anyone,” a feminine voice answered. “I’m his wife.”

  Beth jumped up and looked at Bram, who lurched to his feet also, struggling to come awake. From the look on his face, he had recognized the voice.

  The door opened and Anabel strode through it, followed by an agitated Mrs. Harkness.

  “It’s all right, Mrs. Harkness,” Bram said quietly, eyeing their visitor. “I’ll handle this. Thank you.”

  The nurse, obviously relieved to get out of the line of fire, rushed from the room. Anabel surveyed Beth and Bram, her aquamarine eyes calculating.

  “A charming picture,” she said, examining their deshabille. “I hope I haven’t interrupted something.”

  “What are you doing here?” Bram demanded. Beth had never heard that tone from him before; his voice was tight with new, unprecedented fury.

  Anabel walked past them, touching objects in the room. “A pity you never let me touch this library,” she observed to Bram. “I could have done so much with it.”

  Beth watched her, taking note of the peach wool suit, the perfectly matched shoes and bag, the exquisite jewelry. Anabel’s champagne blonde hair was shorter than Beth remembered it, and done in a current style, a mass of shimmering gold. She was carefully made up, her blue-green eyes accented with just a touch of shadow, her lipstick a creamy harmony with the color of her clothes. Beth knew that she had to be in her forties, but she looked years younger, and as beautiful as ever. Her portrait must be aging somewhere, Beth thought darkly.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” Bram said. Every line of his body was rigid with tension.

  “You know what I’m doing here,” Anabel said lightly. “My husband is ill.”

  “You have no husband,” Bram said flatly.

  Anabel’s coquettish demeanor changed instantly. “I’m still married to him,” she stated coldly.

  Bram nodded slowly. “I see. Now I know why you’re here. You want to be first in line to get your hand in the till.” He took a step toward her. “Listen, honey, I know all about your live-in boyfriend down in Florida, so don’t try to pull the concerned wife act with me. If I have to give it all away, lady, I’ll see that you don’t get a thin dime.”

  “My lawyers will have something to say about that,” Anabel snapped.

  “This is my lawyer,” Bram replied, jerking his thumb at Beth. “And she’ll have something to say about it, too.”

  Anabel’s eyes flashed to Beth. “Your lawyer?” she inquired, and then smiled derisively. She walked slowly to Bram, and Beth could see the potent sexuality of her attitude toward him, her gestures. She put her hand on his arm, displaying manicured, melon colored nails.

  “Come on, sonny, don’t be mean. I’ve come all the way from Palm Beach and you’re treating me like a leper.” Her eyes caressed him. “You used to like me.”

  Beth wanted to strike her. She imagined Bram trying to resist this onslaught at seventeen, with a younger, more sensuous Anabel, and felt sick.

  Bram pulled back from Anabel’s touch as if it had defiled him. “I never liked you,” he spat. “Go back where you came from; your arrival is premature. My father is not dead yet, and if I can possibly help it, he will not be. Leave. I’ll deal with you when I have to, and not before.” He turned his back on her.

  “You were always afraid to deal with me,” Anabel said softly, a tiny smile playing about her lips. “Weren’t you?”

  Bram whirled around to face her, his expression murderous. “If you are not out of this house in two minutes I will break your neck,” he said between his teeth.

  Beth believed him. She was moving to put herself between them when Anabel spun around quickly and left the room. She believed him, too. Seconds later the front door slammed so hard it echoed to the back of the house.

  Bram went immediately to the liquor cabinet, taking out a glass and splashing scotch into it. He downed it in one gulp, his hands shaking.

  Beth followed him, standing aside as he drank, and then moving closer to him to touch his shoulder. It was as hard and unyielding as granite. He wouldn’t look at her. He had withdrawn again.

  He replenished his drink, taking another large swallow. Then he glanced at Beth.

  “I guess you gathered from that little scene what the problem between Anabel and me was,” he said, in that self-mocking tone Beth hated. “She never was very subtle.”

  Beth didn’t answer.

  He smiled bitterly. “Nothing to say? Cat got your tongue? Well, I don’t blame you. It’s not a pretty picture. I wanted her, that viper, that gallon of poison. I wanted her, my father’s wife.”

  “Bram, don’t talk about it,” Beth said weakly.

  “Why not?” he asked, saluting her with his glass. “Doesn’t it conform to your heroic picture of me?” He leaned in toward her, grinning. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, sweetheart. I’m really not a very nice guy.”

  “Bram, you were sixteen, seventeen, whatever. Boys at that age are confused enough about their sexuality. It must have been awful to have her at you all the time, taunting you. Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything, you left home rather than do anything.”

  “But I wanted to!” he whispered fiercely, raising a finger in the air. “God, I wanted to. I used to lie awake at night in a sweat, picturing her just down the hall.”

  “I don’t want to hear this,” Beth moaned, turning away.

  “Makes you sick, doesn’t it? It made me sick, too. I never started it, mind you. She was always coming on to me. That’s what I told myself later, so that I could live with it. But she knew how I felt, she knew she was getting through to me. It was clear that it was only a matter of time. So I got the hell out of the house, away from her and away from my father.”


  “It was the only thing you could do,” Beth said. But she knew she couldn’t comfort him; he was irrational in this mood.

  “Was it?” he asked. “My father never thought so.”

  “Your father didn’t know what was going on!” Beth replied, her voice rising. “Listen, Bram, you have to stop this. It’s over now, and none of it was your fault. You’re driving yourself crazy, and me, too.”

  “You don’t like it?” he inquired, raising his brows. “Get out.”

  Beth stared at him, unable to believe he’d said it.

  “You heard me,” he went on, looking away from her. “Go home.”

  “Bram—”

  “Go serve a writ or something.” He drained his glass.

  Beth stood rooted, unmoving.

  “Still here?” he sneered, glancing backward. “I’m surprised. Now that you know all about me I was sure you wouldn’t want to stick around.”

  He bent his head, blinking rapidly. She realized suddenly that he was trying to get rid of her, fast, because he was on the verge of breaking down. He would do anything, say anything, rather than have her see that.

  “I won’t leave you,” she said, her tone heavy with sympathy.

  It was the wrong thing to say. “Don’t feel sorry for me!” he shouted, throwing his empty glass against the wall. It shattered noisily.

  Beth recoiled, her hand covering her mouth. “I only want to help you,” she whispered.

  “You can’t help me. No one can help me. You’ve done your good deed for the day, go back to chasing ambulances.”

  Beth gasped. This was too much. He had no reason to take his unhappiness out on her, she had done nothing but show him kindness. She loved him, but she was nobody’s carpet. Not even Bram was going to walk on her.

  Beth ripped the bracelet he had given her from her arm and threw it at him. “Fine,” she said distantly. “And you can go back to chasing secretaries.” She ran from the room, grabbing up her things on the way, and dashed out into the rainy night.

  The man is impossible, she told herself as she drove home, choking back the sobs rising in her throat. He’s a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, a powder keg ready to explode at a moment’s notice. Who needs it? To hell with him. He could drink himself to death for all she cared, and drive everyone away from him with his ruthless sarcasm. He wasn’t going to abuse Beth Forsyth any more.

  Unfortunately, this resolution did not make her love him any less.

  CHAPTER 10

  The next day Beth called Jason Raines. For weeks he’d been asking her to accompany him on a business trip to Hawaii. He was interested in purchasing several condominiums on the island of Maui and wanted Beth’s advice on the contracts. He was leaving that night. She had been saying that she didn’t have the time, but now she changed her mind. There was nothing really pressing that couldn’t wait for a few days, and so she told him that she would go with him. Beth reminded him that it would be business only, and Jason laughed, saying he’d accepted that long ago.

  Beth hung up the phone thinking that she needed to get away. She needed to get away from Bram. The timing of this venture was ideal.

  Mindy had called to say that Joshua was improving slowly but steadily, and was expected to live and make a good recovery. She’d called the house and spoken to Mrs. Harkness. Beth didn’t ask about Bram, from whom she’d heard nothing since she left him in his library the previous night. She couldn’t bear to think of that final scene with him and so concentrated on other things. She hired the part-time secretary Mindy had recommended, left the woman installed in her office with the piles of records and correspondence, and went upstairs to pack.

  When she came down two hours later she heard the reassuring clacking of the typewriter coming from the office. The pace of the sound was very encouraging; by comparison with Beth’s hunt-and-peck style, Mary Margaret typed at the speed of light. Beth checked her purse for the necessities, and then glanced at her watch. She had an hour and a half to meet Jason at the airport in Windsor Locks, about twenty minutes away. She twisted her hair into a bun at the back of her neck, fastening it with pins. All in all, she thought she was coping very well for a woman whose whole world had crashed at her feet less than a day ago.

  Mary Margaret looked up briefly at Beth’s entrance and nodded as Beth gave her the house key and told her to let herself out when she was done. Beth told her to keep track of her hours and submit a bill. She was Hal’s friend, and presumably trustworthy; if she padded her bill or robbed the place in Beth’s absence, Hal’s judgment was not the monument of wisdom it had proved to be in the past.

  Beth decided to leave and get something to eat at the airport lounge. The house was stifling her; everything in it reminded her of time spent there with Bram. When she walked out the front door and headed for her car she felt as if she’d been released from prison.

  * * *

  The phone rang in Beth’s office about ten minutes after she left. The secretary picked it up automatically.

  “Attorney Forsyth’s office,” she announced crisply.

  There was a stunned silence from the other end of the line. Then Bram’s voice said sharply, “You’re not Beth. Where is Beth?”

  “Miss Forsyth is away. May I take a message?”

  “Away! Away where? And who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Miss Forsyth’s secretary. If this is a personal call, perhaps you might like to try the house line and leave a message on the machine.”

  “I already tried the house line, why do you think I’m talking to you? Since when does Beth have a secretary?”

  “I was hired this afternoon. If you leave your name I’ll make sure Miss Forsyth returns your call.”

  “Lady, you’d better tell me where Beth is. Right now.”

  “Sir, I see no reason to take that tone with me.”

  Bram thought rapidly, deciding to try a different tack. “Ma’am, this is Abraham Curtis, Miss Forsyth’s fiancé,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “I apologize for my rudeness, but it’s very important that I locate Beth. It’s a mater of utmost importance. Could you please tell me where she is?”

  Mary Margaret thought that over. Miss Forsyth hadn’t said anything about being engaged, but then, why would she? Would a stranger call her office with such an outrageous lie? The man really did sound upset. She wouldn’t want to be the cause of any misunderstanding, but wouldn’t a fiance know where his future wife was going? She stared into space, undecided.

  “It’s really urgent that I get in touch with her,” Bram added.

  The woman sighed. “Miss Forsyth is on her way to Hawaii. Her plane leaves from Bradley at eight. You can probably catch her if you want to go there.”

  “Hawaii!” Bram shouted.

  “Yes, with Mr. Raines,” the secretary continued nervously, already regretting her decision.

  “With Jason Raines!” Bram yelled, and crashed the phone back into its cradle.

  In Beth’s office, Mary Margaret hung up the phone with the fixed conviction that she wasn’t going to have this job very long.

  * * *

  Beth was waiting in the ticket line with Jason when Bram descended on them like a flash flood, grabbing Beth’s arm and hauling her out of the group.

  “Bram!” Beth gasped, astonished. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking you out of here,” he announced grimly, dragging her toward the exit.

  “You are not! Take your hands off me!” She yanked her arm out of his grasp and glared at him.

  “See here, Curtis, I think you misunderstand...” Jason began.

  Bram jammed his forefinger under Jason’s nose and barked,“You. Shut up.”

  Jason blanched. He shut up.

  Beth glanced around at the staring crowd, mortified. “For heaven’s sake, Bram. You’re making a scene,” she hissed.

  “Do you think I give a damn? If I have to tie you to the ticket counter I’m going to make sure you don’t go anywhere with anyone
but me.”

  Beth sighed. She would have to talk to him or he would carry on until she did. She looked at Jason, who clearly wanted no part of this fiasco.

  “I’ll wait for you in the coffee shop,” Jason said. “The flight isn’t until eight.”

  “She won’t be on it,” Bram called after Jason’s departing figure.

  Beth looked for a secluded corner and found it in a nook near the water fountain. She hurried over to it with Bram on her heels.

  “What on earth is the matter with you?” she demanded, whirling to face him. “That man is a client. Excuse me, he was a client. I’m sure he’ll be looking for a new lawyer after witnessing this insane performance; he probably thinks we’re both ready for commitment. How dare you storm in here, pushing me around, acting like a...”

  “Lover?” Bram suggested, his eyes flashing.

  “Lunatic,” Beth concluded. “How did you know where I was?”

  “Your secretary told me. I’ve been running all over the place trying to find the right airline. How could you even think of going away with that guy?”

  “It’s a business trip, Bram.”

  “Hah! So he’s telling you. He’s been after you all along, everybody knows it.”

  Beth closed her eyes, trying to stay calm. “Bram,” she said, striving for a reasonable tone, “the last time I saw you, you insulted me and acted like a brute. Now you show up here, throwing your weight around, asserting rights you don’t even have.”

  “I have every right in the world. I love you.”

  Beth opened her eyes. He’d said it, but not in the way she’d anticipated. Instead of the moonlight and musical background she’d imagined, she had the stark air terminal lighting and the blaring of the loudspeaker. Bram was not kissing her hand or looking lovingly into her eyes, he was glaring at her, his fists planted belligerently on his hips. Something was wrong with this picture.

  “Did you hear what I said?” he asked.

  “Yes, I heard it,” Beth replied faintly. “Forgive me if I don’t throw myself into your arms.”

  Bram sighed, pressing his lips together. “Okay. Look, I know I have a lot to answer for, but I can’t explain anything if you don’t give me the chance. Please stay, Beth. We’ll go someplace and talk. Please?”