by Arlene James
She found her face cleanser within moments and seconds later was parked on a stool at the counter in front of a root beer float piled high with whipped cream. "You don't know what you're missing," she told Jesse as he sipped his coffee.
"I know the coffee's good."
"The float's better," she said, spooning up a generous mouthful and carrying it to his lips. When he opened his mouth to refuse, she poked it inside. He grabbed a napkin and wiped his chin, but he was eyeing her float with new interest.
"Dang, that goes surprisingly good with coffee."
Laughing, she ordered a cup of coffee for herself and a second spoon and straw for him. They demolished the float in no time, and it did go surprisingly well with coffee. Spirits were high when they climbed back into the truck for the drive home. Caroline
closed her eyes, savoring the moment, before saying, "Thanks, Jesse. You made the shopping a lot more pleasant man usual."
He shrugged. "You're easy. You don't turn over every item on die shelves."
She shook her head. "That lends itself to impulse buying. I go with a list, I buy what's on it, and I go home again."
He grinned. "Save the impulses for root beer floats with coffee."
"Exactly."
They laughed together, then drove on in silence. She turned over and over the past few days in her mind, judging the progress they'd made, weighing her next step, her next words. She knew what she wanted to say and do, but she also knew she had to go very, very carefully. Unfortunately, she'couldn't find a careful way to manage it. Finally, as the truck turned into the drive in front of the house, she just let it out.
"Jesse, I need to ask you something.'*
He sent her a leery look, brought the truck to a stop in its usual place, killed the engine and turned to face her, one arm draped along the back of the seat "Okay. I think."
She took a deep breath, released her safety belt and plunged You don't think of me as a sister, do you?"
m.
He blinked at her. "What?"
"Never mind. I know you don't You couldn't possibly, not after... I mean, considering the way you—we... That is—"
"No! I don't think of you as a sister," he interrupted tersely. "Why would you even ask a question like that?"
"Well, it was something Kara said to me—and what you said about the unsatisfying aspect of your marriage. The sex, I mean."
"That's it! Conversation finished." He jerked the key from the ignition and reached for the door handle.
"No, wait!" She launched across the cab and grabbed his hand. He went perfectly still. She was sprawled across his lap, her hands clasped around his wrist Suddenly every nerve ending in her body was screaming for him. Slowly she released her hold and lifted herself off his thighs, but she couldn't quite pull completely away. From the center of the seat she leaned close and engaged
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his eyes with her own. "What Kara said, it was about Rye's first marriage, and it got me to thinking."
He made a face and, as if against his better judgment, said grudgingly, "And what did Kara say?"
Caroline licked her lips, noting with a thrill of satisfaction that his gaze went immediately there. She swallowed, feeling a little breathless. "What Kara told me led me to believe that Rye's first marriage was similar to yours in some ways."
His gaze lifted once more to her eyes. "Such as?"
"Well, he apparently said that sex with Di'wana was a disappointment, that it was like making love to his sister."
Jesse frowned. "She told you that?"
Caroline nodded. "Rye mistook his feelings for Di'wana. She was his best friend's cousin, and she latched on to him as a way out of the Chako traditional life-style. I figure he was, in a way, too much the gentleman to disappoint her. He thought that what he felt for her would be enough, but it wasn't, and you said the same thing about Kay. You've even said how much more experienced he was when he married Di'wana than you were when you married Kay. So if he could make that mistake, you surely could."
Jesse seemed to think that over, but then he shook his head. "I'm not my brother."
"No, you're not, but you're a Wagner, after all. I figure you grew up knowing that Kay had a crush on you, and you did love her in a way. Plus, you wanted to be married. She wanted you. There was no one else to lay claim to your heart. It was a natural mistake for the kind of young man you must have been."
"Even if that were so," he said softly, "it was a mistake that got her killed."
"It did not!" Caroline drew one leg up onto the seat beneath her, leaning closer. "Her death was an accident, nothing more. If not for that fallen electrical wire, the two of you would have separated. You'd have gotten a calm, friendly divorce. She'd have found the man of her dreams, and eventually you'd have found me. Because I'm right for you,; Jesse, and in your heart you must know that, just as I do."
He closed his eyes then, his face contorting as if in pain. "I
might believe that," he said. "I might even wish it. But you're just so young, Caroline."
She smacked him then, right in the center of his chest with the flat of her hand, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to pop his eyes open. "I can't believe you said that! Not after everything mat's gone on between us!"
He pushed her hand away, and somehow their fingers got entangled so that they were tussling back and forth. "Caroline!" "I'm no more too young than you're too old, Jesse Wagner!" "But, honey, I am for you!"
"You're not!" she exclaimed, shoving against him with both hands so hard that suddenly she was toppling forward. He caught her in his arms, cradling her against him, and all at once everything seemed to freeze, his mouth just inches from hers, her hands on his shoulders, her body angled across his. He groaned deep in his throat just before bis hand cupped the back of her head and pressed her face upward. She met his mouth hungrily, fighting only to get closer now. It was like setting a match to tinder.
Suddenly the cab of that pickup truck went up in flames. In -. the conflagration, his hat got knocked off. Then her elbow, connected with the horn in the center of the steering wheel, and suddenly she was plastered against the dash, Jesse scrambling for the door handle again. He bailed out of the cab, hitting the ground at a run, chest heaving.
"No!" he barked, pointing a finger at her. "You promised me
space!"
' 'All right!'' she exclaimed, holding up both hands in surrender while crawling backward across the seat on her knees. "I was caught off guard, too!"
She plopped down onto her bottom. He shoved his hands through his hair. "Damn!" he said, stomping a chunk of ice thrown up by the truck tires. "I don't know how this happens!"
"Oh, yes, you do," she grumbled. "You're just too stubborn to admit that you can't keep your hands off me!"
"As if you were constantly fighting me off!" he accused.
"Why would I want to do that? I'm wild for you!"
"Well, you shouldn't be!"
"Says you!" <
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"That's right!" He slammed the door then and stomped around to her side, crunching and sliding on the icy, wet snow. He yanked her door open and practically yanked her through it "You are dangerous!" he said.
"Only when I want to be!" she retorted.
He screamed and beat both fists against his head. "Why me?"
"Because I love you!" she shouted back.
"I love you, too!" he roared. "That's not the point!"
"Yes, it is!"
Suddenly all the fight seemed to go out of him. He stood with shoulders slumped, hands hanging limply at his sides. "Maybe it is," he said miserably. "But if it is, it just means that I have to do what is best for you."
"You're what's best for me, Jesse," she said gently, imploringly.
He stared at her with naked longing in his eyes. "I wish I could believe that," he whispered. "Oh, how I wish I could believe that" Then he turned and trudged slowly toward the barn, his bared head glistening copper in the sunshi
ne. Caroline watched him go, wondering if she'd blown her last chance or if she'd somehow managed to force him one step closer to the truth. She could only pray for the latter. She watched him until he disappeared inside the bam, a small, lonely figure.
Finally, garnering up her purchases and his hat she went into the house and closed me door.
Chapter Fifteen
He didn't know what to do. He was fighting a losing war, and he knew it. About the only thing he could think of was to take his goodies and go home, but he was home, and Caroline wasn't about to quit the field. She was, thankfully, willing to call a truce.
When he finally got back to the house, that evening, having skipped lunch, he found his dinner on the dining room table and Caroline seated there. "You're right," she said without preamble. "I did promise to back off, and I will. I mean, I have."
He frowned, but he knew that if she slunk off to her room he'd just wonder and worry and finally climb those stairs to see for himself that she was all right, and that would give her hope that he shouldn't allow her to have. He pulled out his chair and sat down. "We're going to pretend today...and last night...and last week never happened. Understood?"
She lifted a shoulder in capitulation. "I can if you can."
"Then it's settled." He picked up his fork and looked over the table. Tender meat loaf flaked with tomatoes and peppers. Yellow squash, battered and fried. Fluffy creamed potatoes. Mustard greens in jalapeno sauce. He knew a peace offering when he saw
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one. "Looks great," he told her softly, hearing the boys come in the back door. "Thanks."
She smiled wanly. "Just my way of saying I'm sorry."
"Not necessary."
"Still—"
Whatever else she might have said got lost as Handsome and Tiger clamped into the room. Jesse told himself that it was just as well, and as she didn't address the matter later, he was content to let it rest. It was the only contentment he was to know, however. For though she cut him just the slack he needed during that next week, his days were consumed with wondering what she was doing, while his evenings became agonies of awareness.
The little things drove him crazy: the way she hummed while she prepared his meals, an unguarded smile with those stars dancing in her eyes, a pat on the shoulder in passing, a quiet admonition to dress warmly as winter had returned with a vengeance. He was on the verge of insanity, praying at odd moments that she wouldn't bend over to pick up something she'd dropped or stretch when she yawned or sigh in that satisfied way before she dropped off to sleep in front of the TV. His dreams were so erotic that he fought sleep himself and bumped around the house in the mornings hi a stupor until she pushed his first cup of coffee into his hands. Even then it was all he could do to keep from tossing the coffee over his shoulder and reaching for her. Then, at long last, his parents came home. And his world as he knew it came to an end.
He glared at his mother over the dinner table. "What do you mean you're moving to Phoenix?"
Sarah calmly buttered her biscuit. "Just during the winters, dear. Your father and I will still spend our summers here."
"But what about me?" Jesse demanded.
Sarah cocked her head. "What about you? It's not as if you're being abandoned. You're an adult, after all. You have everything you need." She glanced over her shoulder at Caroline when she said it, and it was just the last straw for Jesse, die very last straw.
"You don't know what you're talking about!" ; ;
"You know your mother better than that," Haney scolded from
•his place. "She knows exactly what she's talking about. The new treatments can do a lot, but these winters are just going to aggravate her arthritis. By spending the winters in Arizona,'we can keep her very nearly pain free and actually enjoy life for a change."
"We're entitled to enjoy ourselves," Sarah put in. "Your father's ready for semiretirement. We both agree that we need to be concentrating on our marriage again."
At that, Haney reached across the table and covered his wife's band with his. Jesse noted with amazement—and not a little chagrin—the unspoken message that they telegraphed with then- eyes. It was a wonder that the tablecloth didn't ignite! Holy cow! At their age! He laid this all at Caroline's feet. Before she came, his parents were just two old married people who occasionally grumbled about being in a rut, and now they were acting like newly-weds! And his life was turned upside down and dumped like a heap of trash! It was time to take a stand.
Jesse pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. "You don't leave me any choice," he said to the room at large, embarrassingly aware that his voice was strangled and tremulous. He cleared his throat, then fixed his attention on Caroline and said, "You're fired."
The stunned look on her face quickly gave way to anger. ' 'Oh, no, you don't!"
"Jesse, you can't do that!" his mother exclaimed.
"It's done," he said, striding for the door as a choking sadness welled up in him.
"You can't just send me packing, Jesse Wagner!" Caroline shouted at him. "I won't go! You can stop paying me! You can put me out in the street, but mat won't end it!"
"It's over!" he said, quitting the room in a rush.
"Jesse, you're behaving like a fool!" his father growled after him.
Caroline followed him out into the hall. "This is the coward's way out, Jesse!"
"As if I cared about that!" he muttered, realizing suddenly mat he was headed in the wrong direction. If he went up those
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stairs, she'd just follow him there, too. He reversed course and pushed past her.
"I love you, and I know that you love me!" she cried. "We belong together!"
His heart felt as if a fist had reached inside his chest and squeezed it to the bursting point. The pain was blinding, but he stumbled into the back hallway and grabbed for his coat. She was right there with him. "Let me go." The small hands that clutched at him seemed to brand him everywhere they touched.
"You can't do this, Jesse! You're supposed to marry me!"
He drew safely out of her reach and made a last-ditch effort. "Too young!" he gasped, fumbling for the doorknob. He left her shrieking inarticulately in the hallway, the sound equal parts anger, frustration and pain.
The cold stung his nose and ears. He'd left his hat behind, but that didn't explain the icy wetness on his face or the fog that clouded his vision as he slipped and slid toward the barn. It didn't explain the aching emptiness that seemed to be consuming him from within, or the black loneliness that settled over him like a cloud. Most of all, it didn't explain the panic mat seized him, the awful certainty that his sacrifice would be for naught, and somehow the one pride of his life, his willingness to shoulder responsibility, suddenly seemed a cold, inadequate comfort.
"I cannot believe he said that!" Caroline smacked the coun-tertop with her palm and spun back toward the center of the kitchen. "I can't believe we're still talking about my age!"
"Well, of course, you're not fired, dear," Sarah said comfortingly from the doorway.
"No, of course, you're not," Haney grated, looking over his wife's shoulder. "That boy's no idiot. He'll come around. Why, you're every bit as good a cook as my wife, and you got this place running like a top."
"That's hardly the point, Haney," Sarah said.
"But it is the point!" Caroline exclaimed. "Part of it, anyway. Haven't I proved that I'm mature enough to run his home, help out with the business, feed the hands, be a mother to his children?"
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"Well, of course, you have," Sarah replied placatingly.
"No question about it," Haney agreed.
"I am not some teenager!" Caroline pointed out. "I'm not a child, even if he does want to treat me like an infant!"
"It's that hard Wagner head of his," Sarah commiserated. "You know what Kara had to go through with Rye." She leaned her head back and smiled at her husband, then. "They're worth it, though, these Wagner men." Haney chuckled and winked,
giving her a slight squeeze with his hands at her waist. Sarah flushed head to toe.
Caroline missed it all. She was seeing and hearing someone else, Kara way back in December, discussing this very problem. Kara had suggested one tack, but Caroline had chosen another at the time. Well, she was backtracking.
Seems to me nothing ages a woman like dressing too young.