The First Law of Love

by Abbie Williams

  ***

  Monday morning I decided I didn’t feel like driving into town for work. Perhaps this wasn’t the most responsible attitude, but considering that I had signed on to work for Al for the foreseeable future, I knew that Al wouldn’t mind me taking a day off; I just wasn’t as specific as I could have been, when I called to leave a message that I would be working for him from now on, but that I wouldn’t be into the office today.

  Hanging up in the predawn light of the kitchen, I leaned the small of my back against the counter and set the phone aside. I clasped my hands beneath my chin, smiling as I studied the first pale streaks of seashell-pink tinting the sky. Smiling radiantly, feeling as though the sun was rising just for us on this morning, for Case and me, and the incredible love that we had found.

  I felt my lips tremble with emotion and went running back to the bedroom, where I wiggled immediately under the covers, as I was naked and chilly and craving him, straight into the delight of his warm, sleepy embrace. He was so toasty that I felt certain my skin was steaming where we touched.

  “Stay here,” he murmured, still more than half asleep. “Stay in my arms.”

  There was no place I would rather be, ever again. I kissed his chin, soft and slow, morning kisses, and then his neck. I whispered, “At least I know I’ll be warm enough this winter.”

  He laughed a little, snuggling me closer and kissing my tangled hair. He whispered, “You can count on that.”

  “I told Al I wouldn’t be in today,” I whispered, winding my legs around his.

  “I’ll make us breakfast in a little while,” Case murmured; we had made love nearly the entire night through, and he was barely awake even now.

  “You rest, sweetheart,” I told him, my eyelids heavy too. “We’ll get up later…”

  It was nearly noon before Case fried us eggs and bacon in a cast-iron pan on the stove, wearing his gray boxers while I wore an old, faded t-shirt from his high school days, with the word SPICER across the back in red letters. I felt a distinct thrill to be wearing his name this way – the name I planned to call my own someday in the near future. I sat on the counter near Case while he cooked and we kept kissing, enough that the eggs burned.

  “I love your freckles,” I told him and I meant that sincerely, though he thought I was teasing. He had mixed up a second batch of eggs, which would probably end up scorched too, as I was preoccupied with skimming my fingertips over each and every one on his chest, his shoulders.

  “Who loves freckles?” he teased me, so damn handsome here in the kitchen, half naked and unshaven, with the contented glow of hours of lovemaking. I shivered with delight as I touched his bare chest, his flat belly with its slim line of dark hair that went south from his belly button and disappeared into his boxers.

  “Me,” I said, smiling into his beautiful eyes. “I love all of yours. And your hair. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to touch it.” So saying, I smoothed my palms lightly over the sides of his head, tipping towards him for another kiss.

  He kissed me thoroughly, as I stroked his hair. He murmured against my lips, “You touch anything you want, baby, anything at all.” He twined strands of my tangled hair around all four fingers on his right hand, saying, “Your beautiful curly hair. It reminds me of a mane.”

  I knew he meant this as a compliment and I teased him, biting his bottom lip just a little, “Well, you certainly gripped it like a mane last night, cowboy.”

  He grinned wickedly at me then, tugging me back into his kiss.

  We finally had breakfast in the late afternoon, the third round with the eggs and bacon. We sat at the table and giggled at the cats, (we had driven to town on Sunday, both to collect my car from The Spoke and to rescue Peaches before she starved to death, bringing her back out here) who were playing with each other on the back of the couch. And we talked and talked.

  “Tell me about Lynnette,” I requested at one point.

  Case was forthright. He said, not without pain in his voice, “She never stood a chance. I couldn’t truly love her and she sensed that. I tried though. I thought she was going to be the mother of my child and I tried with everything I had.” He drew a breath through his nose and cupped his left hand around mine, gently stroking me with his thumb. He said, “I hid away your picture. I had given up on any hope of us ever meeting again and I was determined to forget about you and love her. We were reasonably happy for a little while.”

  “I hate to think about you hurting,” I whispered. “And it’s probably so stupid and so petty, but I’m jealous of her. Insanely jealous. I know it’s ridiculous…”

  He shook his head, saying, “No, it’s not ridiculous. If you had married someone before now, I would have been secretly plotting his death. I figured that’s what would happen. A part of me always dreaded when Mathias would call, because I thought that he might be calling to tell me that you had gotten engaged, or were getting married.”

  “I knew I was coming to you,” I said, studying his eyes. “I knew it deep inside. There has never been anyone for me, but you.”

  “Nor for me, but you,” he said. “We’ve been together before now, I’m sure of it, Tish. I can sense that, sometimes really clearly, like a memory. A memory of something I don’t remember from this life.”

  “Me too,” I said. I had told him about the photograph of the Spicer family, about how I thought he might have been Cole. At the very least, related to Cole. I recognized, “And it’s getting stronger.”

  “All of us, you and me, Mathias and Camille, the Rawleys…somehow we’ve all been together before now,” he said.

  “And Derrick Yancy,” I whispered, cringing a little at his name. Though I hated to acknowledge this, I said, “He’s known us before too…”

  Case nodded agreement. I had yet to tell him about what Derrick had said, both at the Coyote’s Den and in the parking lot of Stone Creek; I was too terrified that Case would react badly to this and make good on his threat about killing him. I wasn’t concerned for Derrick’s slimy wellbeing so much as I absolutely refused to see Case get hurt or taken to jail, or any of the other terrible possibilities that could come from me telling him just now.

  “When did Lynnette leave?” I whispered after a moment.

  “She found your picture,” he said. “I told her I had gotten rid of it, but I lied and then she found it, tucked in my things. I couldn’t bear to not have it near me, and she ripped it to shreds in front of me. I wanted to hit her. I’m so ashamed of feeling that way, because it reminds me of something my dad…something my dad would have felt…”

  I moved directly into his arms as he sat on the chair, straddling his lap and holding his head to my breasts.

  He said quietly, “She left me after that. I drank pretty heavily for a few months or so. And then a year passed and then one day Clark told me that Camille had told him that you were coming to Jalesville for the summer. And that was the day I realized that maybe I still knew how to hope. That maybe things truly do happen for a reason.” He rested his chin between my breasts and his eyes made my heart gallop fiercely. His hands were strong and firm around my waist.

  “They do,” I whispered. “I believe that they do.”

  ***

  Clark called to invite us to dinner about an hour later.

  “So, I heard you talked to Mathias,” I heard Clark say after Case answered. We had been almost asleep in the afternoon light, cuddled close on the unmade bed, and my head was cradled on his chest.

  I could tell Case was smiling, even though my eyes were closed, smiling just like I was. He said, “I did. Everything’s all right now. I feel it.”

  “I’m so happy for you two, son,” Clark said.

  “We’re so happy too, I can’t even describe it,” Case said, his deep voice hoarse with emotion.

  “You and Tish want to join us for supper pretty quick here?” Clark asked.

  Case winked at me and whispered, “What do you think?”

  And I said to Clark, through
the phone, “We’ll be there.”

  ***

  We decided to take the horses. In the barn in the exquisite evening light, Case held me to him; we could not stop touching, could not stop kissing.

  “I’m here with you,” I marveled again. “And I can touch you whenever I want to.” So saying, I pulled his lips back to my own.

  He crushed me closer in response, his mouth so sweet and hot upon mine that I could have died happy too. In the quiet peace of his well-cared-for barn, time seemed to stop for us, as though allowing us this moment all to ourselves. It was only Buck releasing a deep, whooshing whicker from his stall that broke us apart, and we laughed.

  “Easy, boy,” Case said. He told me, “Sweetheart, I’ll teach you how to saddle them next time, how’s that?”

  I nodded agreement. I said, “I want to learn everything about how to take care of them.” Hearing the chickens, I added, “Them too.”

  He sent me a grin as he lifted the saddle and I melted away. I begged, “Can we ride Buck together?” I looked towards Cider and apologized, “Sorry, girl…”

  “Of course we can,” Case told me, resettling the saddle. He explained, “It’s easier without one, if we ride double. I’ll just get his bridle.”

  Again he boosted me first before climbing behind, using the corral fence as a ladder, as Buck wasn’t as polite as Cider. Case’s arms came around me and I shivered with pleasure. He gathered the reins and led Buck to the road with both his hands and a brief tightening of his knee on the horse’s flank. Once we were headed towards the Rawleys’ place, he said, “You take the reins, get used to Buck a little too. It’s better with me behind you, since he’s not so well behaved as Cider.”

  I curled my hands around the leather straps and Case wrapped his hands around my waist. He murmured, “You’re so delicate. You feel so good in my hands.”

  “I’m hardly delicate,” I contradicted, trying to concentrate on handling Buck, who was altogether different than his sweet-tempered sister. He tossed his big head and neighed, side-stepping impatiently, and Case’s hands moved from my body at once, closing around the reins above mine and tugging his horse back into line.

  “Quit that,” he scolded the animal. “You know Tish. You better get used to her riding you.”

  I giggled a little, scolding, “Don’t make him feel bad.”

  He laughed at my words, kissing the side of my forehead. He said, “He doesn’t feel bad, sweetheart, trust me. He’s the luckiest horse in the world, with you on his back…in fact…” He nipped my earlobe and murmured seductively, “I was hoping to get you in the very same position above me, a little later tonight…”

  I squeaked and elbowed Case in the ribs, teasing, “You should be so lucky.”

  “Don’t I know,” he said whole-heartedly. “Believe me, I’m counting every last blessing today.”

  It was a short ride to Clark’s, though I appreciated every second of it, the feeling of Case behind me on Buck, the utterly perfect summer evening that spread out all around us. The air was completely still, warm and deliciously perfumed with sagebrush and sweetgrass, as though the foothills were breathing the scent all around us. The sun cast its long, intoxicating beams over the landscape, casting it in almost otherworldly light; it was so stunningly beautiful that tears wet my eyes for the countless time. I felt as though I’d never experienced an emotion before living here. When the Rawleys’ house came into view, I sighed a little, with disappointment that we’d arrived so quickly.

  The front door flew open as Case was lifting me down from Buck, and Wy came barreling out, hugging the both of us the moment he reached our sides. Buck snorted and tossed his head as Wy all but hollered, “Goddamn, it’s about time!”

  I giggled, hugging him back, and in short order we were surrounded by everyone, Clark, Marshall, Gus and Sean and Quinn, who echoed Wy’s heartfelt words.

  “You two, I just wanted to crack your heads together,” Sean said, roughing up my hair.

  “I’m so happy for you two,” Gus said. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  “So, when’s the wedding? There’s always lots of hot girls at a wedding,” Marshall teased us.

  “Soon,” I said, getting my arms back around Case, tucking myself to his side. He gripped my waist and kissed my hair.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am at this,” Clark said for the third time. “It’s what was meant to be, that I know.”

  We ate dinner outside, under a setting sun as richly gold and gorgeous pink as anything I had ever seen. I kept smiling, unable to help myself, thinking that this place was my home, and would be my home from now forth. Jalesville, Montana, the little town I was trying to save. My man, my Charles Spicer, musician cowboy who I could not live without, sitting just to my left and angling me a soft smile, surely knowing what I was thinking. Beneath the table, I slipped my hand over his right thigh and patted him twice. I was going to move all of my things into his trailer this week; we had planned it half the evening.

  Later, we all lingered outside to stargaze a little. I sat on Case’s lap, his arms around my waist and my head against his left shoulder, cradled to him.

  “It’s about time, that’s all I can say,” Marshall told us again, sitting just to our right, sipping his third beer. “I was getting worried. You scared me for a little while, Tish. I thought I might have to take drastic measures to get you two together.”

  “It’s all okay now,” I said, snuggling more deeply into Case’s arms. I repeated Case’s words from earlier, saying, “Everything’s as it should be, now.”

  “Not quite yet,” Marsh said then, almost inaudibly, the tone of his voice sounding very un-Marshall-like. Case and I both looked questioningly at him, but he only took a long drink from his beer and wouldn’t elaborate.

  Chapter Twenty

  A blissful two weeks passed.

  I moved from Stone Creek into the trailer and it was crowded as hell with all of our belongings, but neither of us cared. Peaches was welcomed with varying degrees of warmth by the dogs and Carrot, and tended to retreat to Case’s lap when Mutt and Tiny were too much in her space, of which he was rather smug.

  “It’s the first place I want to be, too,” I told him. “So I can understand her rationale.”

  I talked to my mother, who was delighted for me, and my sisters, my Aunt Jilly, Clinty and Grandma and Aunt Ellen, all of them thrilled at this turn of events. I left Dad a voicemail message on their home answering machine, wondering why he didn’t call me back all the next day, before recalling that he and Lanny were vacationing this last part of summer in the Bahamas. Robbie, who stopped in at the law office the moment he heard the news that I had declined the job at Turnbull and Hinckley, was shocked at me.

  “Gordon, you’ll regret this,” he said.

  “Not ever,” I told him softly. “Oh God, not ever.”

  He left, muttering about insanity.

  Case and I spent the first Sunday afternoon going through the trailer and determining what could be relegated to the barn, as the closet space in the bedrooms was ridiculous. It took much longer than we imagined, because we kept getting interrupted by the need to make love, sometimes slow and sweet, with lots of kissing, other times fast and urgent, Case gripping my hips from behind as I bent over the nearest convenient surface.

  The sun was sinking into a hazy, melon-tinted sky, thunder grumbling in the distance, and Case and I were sprawled together in the haymow. I turned my head and sneezed for the second time, giggling as bits of chaff fluffed into the air like a dandelion gone to seed.

  “Bless you,” he mumbled, his face against my breasts. We were lying on an old patchwork quilt we’d pulled from a trunk, one that Case said was from his grandmother Dalton’s childhood.

  “Are you sure your grandma won’t mind us using her quilt this way?” I whispered, stroking my fingers through his hair. I couldn’t get enough of touching him.

  Case lifted lazily to one elbow and regarded me as I lay flat on my back, h
alf-naked and with bits of hay decorating my hair. My sundress was slipped down over my shoulders and bunched up to my hips, as though I was wearing a tube top around my belly. He too was without a shirt, his jeans tugged back over his hips but still unbuttoned and unzipped. I smiled radiantly at the sight of him, my heart throbbing with love.

  “Your beautiful eyes,” he said then, low and soft, cupping my face with his free hand. “They’re the truest blue I’ve ever seen. I swear you see right into my soul.”

  I giggled a little at his heartfelt words, catching his hand and kissing his palm. I said, “Yes, I like to think I have superpowers like that.”

  “I mean it,” he said, leaning to kiss the corner of my lips, just lightly; he knew I loved to be teased, one little kiss at a time. He pressed a soft kiss to each of my eyes in turn, closing them briefly, telling me softly, “If you’d have gone back to Chicago, your eyes would have haunted me the rest of my life.”

  “You wouldn’t have let me go,” I understood.

  He traced his fingertips gently over my lips before bending to kiss my breasts, both in turn. He lifted his face and studied my eyes, and I clung to him. He whispered, “I was ready to chase you to Chicago and throw you over my shoulder, if that’s what it came down to. But I was so afraid the city was what you wanted and I had to force myself not to stand in the way of that.”

  I whispered, “Not without you.”

  He slid both warm, strong hands down my ribs and brought his mouth to within a breath of mine; already my hips lifted towards him in invitation, despite the fact that he had only just left my body a few minutes earlier. Maybe someday, decades from now, we would no longer crave one another in this urgent fashion, but I couldn’t imagine that at present. Case lightly bit my bottom lip. Ever the gentleman, he whispered as though to ask permission, “Can I make you come again, sweetheart?”