Against All Odds (Arabesque)

by Gwynne Forster

“I have very deep feelings for you, Melissa, probably deeper that I realize.”

  “But?”

  He knew that his smile must seem feeble to her, considering the explosiveness of their lovemaking. “Not buts. There are things you don’t know, and other things I have to straighten out—and until it’s all clean and clear, I can’t commit myself and you won’t want to either. Let’s try not to hurt each other while I work it out. Will you promise me that?”

  “You don’t think we’re making a mistake? It looks to me like we’re going the wrong direction on a one-way street.”

  He shook his head. “Life is what you make it, sweetheart. We can let the folly of our parents and grandparents ruin our lives, or we can put that feud behind us and make our own way, base our decisions and what we do on merit. I chart my own course. What about you?”

  “I’ve learned the value of that since I’ve been back here, and I’ve stopped begging for my father’s approval. I’m my own person, and my mother supports me in that.”

  “Alright, it’s settled. We stand together until we have reasons not to, reasons that concern only us and have nothing to do with our families. Agreed?” She smiled and wiggled beneath him.

  “Vixen. I’ll teach you who to tease.”

  * * *

  Melissa rolled over and hugged herself. Adam’s goodbye kiss lingered on her lips, and she pulled his pillow over her head to blot out the fast-breaking daylight. If she didn’t get up, she’d probably oversleep and get to work late. She heard him close the front door and snuggled deeper under the covers, her nostrils tingling with his heady masculine scent and the lingering aroma of their lovemaking. Thoughts of her mother alone in her room, her love denied her, brought Melissa upright. “Back to reality, kiddo,” she advised herself, scrambling out of bed. She padded over to her window to look at the birds and glimpsed a bluebird among the swarm of blackbirds. But she lacked her usual enthusiasm for them and went about preparing herself for the day. Leaving home later that morning she had a consoling thought. Adam didn’t accept defeat; if he wanted them to have a life together, he’d move mountains for it. She knew, too, that if he came to a different decision, what she wanted wouldn’t matter. “So I can stop worrying about it,” she muttered to herself.

  * * *

  Adam drove into his garage as the first streak of dawn shot across the horizon. Teased with the stirrings of desire one moment and in the next irritated by uncertainty, he knew he had to take action. If he couldn’t solve the mystery at Leather and Hides soon, he’d get more professional help. It was hell making love to a woman whom you wanted all the way to the recesses of your soul and holding back because you were suspicious of her.

  * * *

  Adam selected a red and gray paisley tie to wear with his gray shirt and gray pin-striped suit that morning. He remembered that whenever Melissa saw that tie, she fingered it absentmindedly, though she never said she admired it. He hadn’t been alone with her since he’d left her sleeping in bed four days ago. Lunch at a restaurant wouldn’t afford them much privacy, but it allowed them to be together without the temptation of lovemaking.

  He stopped by her office just before one o’clock.

  “She has a client with her, Mr. Roundtree,” her secretary told him.

  “For the tenth time, Cynthia, my name is Adam.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Roundtree.”

  Adam sighed. He believe in hiring seniors, but getting them adjusted to the changing social norms could be difficult. He didn’t sit but leaned against the doorjamb to wait for Melissa. Within minutes, handsome Magnus Cooper stepped out of Melissa’s office wearing his ten-gallon Stetson and alligator boots, drawling his appreciation and his wish to see more of her. Adam had the satisfaction of hearing her say she didn’t date her clients, but Cooper dismissed the comment with a laugh. Fury shot through him, constricting his throat and burning his chest. By what right did that cowboy hit on his woman?

  Her smile when she saw him helped him to calm himself. He and the man had height in common, Adam observed, then noticed the Texan’s two-inch boot heels with mean satisfaction. He nodded at Melissa’s introduction, but didn’t offer to shake hands. Then he pointedly asked her, “Can you take off the rest of the day? I thought we might run over to Baltimore. The Great Blacks In Wax Museum is having an open house.” He hadn’t planned to ask her right then, maybe Saturday, but it served a purpose. Magnus Cooper had been warned that Adam Roundtree didn’t tolerate another man on his turf.

  He glanced at Melissa, figured he’d irritated her and didn’t much care. The more she understood him, the better. He knew he hadn’t fooled her, and that her professionalism wouldn’t let her take him to task in front of Cooper. He watched her get rid of the man, and it amused him that she drew out their goodbyes, obviously to deny him assurance that she had no interest in the Texan. They spent the rest of the afternoon in Baltimore, first at the museum and then wandering around the Inner Harbor.

  “Those Maryland crab cakes were worth battling this weather,” she said, referring to the fierce wind blowing off the Atlantic over the Chesapeake Bay.

  He rested an arm around her shoulder. “I’m glad you think so. The food was delicious, but I’d wondered whether this breeze might be too much for you.” They approached a toy store inside the mall, and he ducked into it, pulling her with him, bought a tiger-striped kitten, wrote Adam on its tag, and gave it to her. Then he asked himself why he’d done that, but the joy he saw in her eyes placated his guilt for having encouraged her.

  They walked on, browsing in little shops and gazing at spectacles that held no interest for them. He took her hand and urged her into a quaint coffee shop, where he got a table off in a corner. He needed to clear up a few things, and he couldn’t do that amidst the distractions. He ordered the coffee and pastries that she selected, but he didn’t want to eat. He wanted to know whether she remembered her promise to preserve their relationship until he’d solved some issues.

  “Melissa, do you like that man I met in your office this morning?”

  She must have misunderstood his question, he decided, when she replied.

  “So far I do. Why?”

  He knew she’d revolt if he showed anger and did his best to contain his temper and his impatience. “I’ll put it differently. What I mean exactly is this: do you want him?” He tried to ignore the mirth reflected in her eyes.

  “He’s just a client, Adam.”

  “That’s your view. His differs substantially.” He swallowed his annoyance. Melissa could give the appearance of naivete whenever it suited her.

  “You saw him for only a little while this morning. Why don’t you like him?”

  “What was there to like? He’s rich—but honey, money doesn’t part rivers, not from where I sit. I can usually judge a man by what he laughs at, and I didn’t like his laugh nor what he found funny.”

  “You ought to know how much money impresses people,” she scoffed, “considering how much of it you’ve got.”

  He didn’t smile as he looked at her. He was serious, and he wanted her to know it. “Yeah. I’d probably make out better with you if I didn’t have a cent. This guy I met this morning—is he the one you found a ranch manager for?”

  “I’m finding one for him. Yes.”

  He put his elbows on the table, made a pyramid of his ten fingers, and searched her face. “I thought it was your policy to take the executive to the employer. What was Cooper doing up here in Maryland?” He knew that if he kept it up, she might lose her customary cool, but he didn’t let the thought stop him.

  “We talked a few times, and I guess he got curious about me.”

  Adam straightened up and glared at her. “Curious, eh? Remind him for me that curiosity killed the cat.” He watched her clutch the little tiger kitten as if it were a security token, though she stuck out her chin in defiance. But he refused to feel guilty for having goaded her. He didn’t want Magnus Cooper within miles of her.

  * * *

&nbs
p; They left the coffee shop, and he looped her arm through his. An old-fashioned gesture, he realized, but one that he liked. “Say, didn’t Harriet Tubman once live around here somewhere?” he asked as they left the harbor area.

  “I’m not sure,” Melissa told him. “Imagine a woman born into slavery in the first quarter of the nineteenth century managing to get her freedom and organize an escape route for other slaves. She was something.”

  He squeezed her arm in a gesture of affection. “Sure was. In those days people depended upon their wits for survival. I’m curious,” he said. “Are you a feminist because of the men in your life or in spite of them?”

  “Both,” she said, as they reached his car. He buckled his seat belt, turned to her, and with his arm around her shoulder asked her, “Why did you let me make love to you that first time? You were a virgin. Why did you give me that honor? The question plagues me, Melissa.”

  He could feel her withdrawing from him. “If you have to be told, Adam, the answer wouldn’t help you.”

  He put the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it. “If you’d rather I reached my own conclusion, I can certainly do that.”

  She reached over and rubbed his nose with her index finger, surprising him, because she hadn’t previously shown him such familiarity. “You will do that, no matter what I say.” He noticed that her hand fell casually into her lap, that she sat in the bucket seat, quiet, serene. He thought of Keats’s poem and the silence “upon a peak in Darien.” Might as well accept it, he thought. I may not be able to let her go no matter what she’s done and no matter how badly I want to forget her.

  He felt her delicate fingers pinch his thigh and smiled. “Feeling your oats?”

  “Just testing the water.”

  “What’s it like?” he asked.

  “Hot.” He stared at her. Twice that afternoon she’d goaded him, and he liked her new familiarity with him, her shy possessiveness. Her fingers walked from his knee halfway up his thigh while she hummed “Frère Jacques” in accompaniment. They reached her house, and he tipped up her chin with his right index finger, excitement wafting its way through him as she continued her play, running her fingers up his left arm. His gaze steady and unfathomable, he stated, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at seven thirty.”

  She squinted, as though not believing what she’d heard. “What for?”

  He didn’t make her wait for his answer. “The weekend. If you want to test the water, I aim to accommodate you.”

  “You asking, or telling?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “I suppose I can learn to crawl if you force me to it, though right now I’m having trouble envisaging such a scene.”

  Melissa laughed. “It’s giving me trouble, too.”

  * * *

  Adam took Route 340 toward Harpers Ferry to where the Appalachian Trail hit the Potomac River, bore left onto an unmarked gravel road, swung up a bumpy strip and stopped at his lodge, twenty-four miles from Beaver Ridge. The overcast skies and the air, warm and stifling for mid-November, warned them not to expect beautiful weather. Adam went about storing their supplies, but her quiet demeanor and obvious wariness began to disturb him, and he sat in a straight-back dining room chair and pulled her between his knees.

  “What’s the matter? If you want to go home, I’ll be disappointed, but I’ll take you.” He breathed deeply in relief when her hands wound around his neck.

  “I don’t want to leave, but this feels strange.”

  He put her away gently and stood. “Maybe we should have done this a while back. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, so if you want to leave, just tell me.” He meant it, but he didn’t expect to have to keep that promise, because he knew how to get the response from her that he wanted, and he’d get it. They ate the breakfast he’d cooked and cleaned the kitchen together. Domesticity wasn’t so bad, Adam mused, turning on the dishwasher. He could even get to like it.

  The sun peeked through the clouds, and they put on light sweaters and jackets and hiked along the Appalachian Trail. They strolled into the forest, amidst trees of golden and rust-colored leaves that waved among the green pines.

  “I could get used to being in this place with you. I come here to find peace, to shut out my problems, to rejuvenate as it were. And I always come here alone. But having you here with me feels good. Feels right.” He let his gaze roam up the trunk of a tall elm. “Are you glad you came?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’m glad.” His heartbeat raced wildly when she reached up and tucked his scarf closely around his neck but wouldn’t look at his face.

  “Come on—let’s walk,” she said, though she grasped his arm and faced him, making it impossible for him to take a step. His fingers guided her face upward until he could see the passion glittering like soft lights in her eyes.

  “Oh, honey. Sweetheart, we’re insane,” he said softly. Immediately her arms reached up to caress his broad shoulders.

  “I know. Oh, Adam, I know.” He watched, captivated by her soft, yielding manner, as she raised parted lips for his kiss even as the words left her mouth. He covered her mouth with his and drank in her sweetness. He needed her closer, and he needed all of her. She moved against him, but he stilled her. He needed all of her, to know her fully, to communicate with her at the deepest level. But how could he, when the level of trust that he needed eluded them? He tucked her to his side and walked on. Unsatisfied.

  “Time to go,” he told her abruptly after seeing a brown bear dash into the thicket. They walked swiftly through the high pines, white ash, and oak trees that thrived there. Riffling excitement, akin to fear, alerted Adam to danger, causing him suddenly to sniff the wind and look up at the black sky. He released her hand.

  “Let’s get out of here. We’ll have to make a run for it.” Drenched and shivering, they reached the lodge.

  “Too bad we didn’t wait an hour to take that walk,” he lamented, as the storm moved on, and the sun peeked through the clouds.

  “You’re t-t-telling m-m-me.”

  “You’re shivering. I’ll get something warm for you.” He removed her jacket and shoes and wrapped her in a woolen blanket.

  “T-th-thanks.”

  “I think I’d better call a doctor.”

  “No d-d-don’t. I’m scared to death of electrical storms—it’s just nerves,” she told him, and he stared at her, incredulous. He took her in his arms and rocked her until the tremors stopped. She’d shown no sign of fear while she sprinted a half mile in that electrical storm.

  He reflected on Melissa’s behavior as he set about preparing lunch. He’d never seen her so vulnerable as when she’d trembled uncontrollably because of fear, not even when she had lain beneath him and splintered in his arms, and he realized he felt a new tie to her, a feeling that she needed him.

  After lunch he made a fire in the fireplace to ward off the sudden chill that followed the thunderstorm. They sat before it, and he took her hand.

  “What do you want from life, Melissa?” He could see that she’d rather he’d phrased the question differently.

  “A girl and a boy in whatever order they decide to show up.”

  He took no offense at her attempt to downplay its importance to her, because he knew she had a tendency to squirm whenever their conversation became too personal. “And?”

  “Well, I don’t want to conceive them by artificial insemination, and I don’t want to be an unmarried mother.”

  Adam couldn’t help laughing. She refused to admit that she wanted a husband. “Anything else? What about a father for those kids?”

  A brief wistfulness flashed in her limped eyes. “He can be part of the package.” Her manner changed. “Are we talking serious, here?”

  “Not as serious as we might, but I need to know something about you apart from your intelligence, efficiency, wit, sexy beauty, and earth-shattering lovemaking.” Her raised eyebrows and skeptical look said that he might have overstated it. Heat flooded her face, and she shrugged, her
diffidence adding to her allure.

  “Seventy-five percent of the men in this country wouldn’t need to know any more than that,” she said, “and the other twenty-five percent wouldn’t know what to do with that information if they had it.”

  He hadn’t thought her shy or so tender. Getting her to reveal herself proved as simple as getting blood from a turnip. His eyes narrowed as he remembered his first encounter with her father. “What—besides your father—makes you cry?”

  “Adam, that’s behind me. If I hurt, it’s for my mother.”

  He rolled over, clasped her in his arms, and she spoke more readily of her life. They talked, holding each other until sleep claimed them.

  * * *

  Hours later they awakened in a chilled room beside a cold fireplace. Melissa snuggled closer to Adam. The tender protectiveness he’d shown her bound him more closely to her, and she forgot the reasons why she should avoid him. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but even in his loving, protective mien, when he’d held her while she trembled uncontrollably in fright, he’d withheld something. She looked down at him, his arms behind his head and his eyes closed for emotional privacy, and thought of his masterfulness under pressure and his awesome passion for her. Yes, he charted his own course, and he hadn’t committed himself to her because he hadn’t accepted their relationship. Something or somebody stood between them, and she had an eerie feeling that the chasm they faced involved her family. A deep intimacy had developed between them as they’d sat before the fire talking and sipping coffee, but he had told her little of himself and nothing of what he envisaged for them. Yet he’d filled her heart with himself. She had to hold back—she didn’t want to, but she had to.

  Chapter 10

  Melissa unpacked her small weekend bag and dropped the soiled garments into the hamper. A glance at her watch confirmed that she didn’t have time to get to Sunday morning church. Who would have thought their weekend would pass as it had—first a storm in which they’d nearly drowned and then an afternoon and night of the deepest intimacy she’d ever experienced. They’d shared affection and their minds, but not their bodies. If they had spoken words of love and given of their bodies, too, she doubted she could have left him for any reason. But he’d kept their temperatures low, though she knew that wasn’t what he’d intended when he took her there. She understood that their feelings for each other had changed, that they’d come to a reckoning point and had opted for caution and restraint. She hadn’t been hurt nor had she attempted to seduce him when he bluntly suggested they leave early, because he couldn’t spend another celibate night there with her.