While the Fire Rages

by Joan Hohl

  “Not in that manner.” Jo was amazed at the distant sound of her own voice.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Brett’s shrug had the impact of a blow to Jo’s heart

  He doesn’t really want to know, because he really doesn’t care! The thought froze Jo’s mind. Moving carefully, as if afraid she’d shatter into a million shards of ice if she hurried, Jo slid off the bed and walked into the bathroom, thinking: The learning process is now over.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  Brett sat behind his brother’s desk, staring fixedly at his computer screen. It had been a very long three weeks since he and Jo had reached dead end the night he’d returned from Pennsylvania.

  Why hadn’t they been able to break free of constraint since then? Brett was afraid he knew the answer and simply didn’t want to face it. Damn it, if she loved me... The desk chair was shoved back roughly as Brett jerked to his feet.

  Stalking to the window, Brett scowled down at the miniature people scurrying about their business twenty-six stories below.

  If she loved me.

  Brett was relieved at the intrusive noise of the buzzer on the telephone. Swinging back to the desk, he scooped up the receiver. “Mrs. Renninger on line two.” Brett’s distraction was evidenced by his subdued greeting to his mother. He forgot to call her sir.

  “Yes, Mother?” he queried.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Violet demanded in concern.

  Brett frowned. “Yes, of course. Why?”

  “If you have to ask, I must be working you too hard,” Violet answered. Then, without warning, she sprang her news on him. “Wolf has been declared fit to go back to work. He has decided to remain at the farm until after Easter. That gives you a week and a half to clear up whatever you’re on at the moment and re-gear your mind for Atlanta. You can bring him up to date when you and JoAnne come down for the holiday. You were planning to come down for Easter, weren’t you?”

  Brett was in no mood for pretense. “I really hadn’t thought about it,” he admitted starkly.

  “And now you don’t have to,” she shot back at him. “It’s family conclave time, Brett. I’m considering another branch on the Renninger’s company tree. Wolf needs to be brought up to date. And you sound like you need a rest. When will you and JoAnne arrive?”

  Brett couldn’t deny the smile that curved his tight lips. “What rank did you carry in the marines?” As the question was moot, he went on through her laughter, “We’ll fly down sometime during Holy Week. I cannot be more definitive at this point. Okay?”

  “I guess it will have to be.” Violet sighed. “Sometimes I think I trained my sons too well. Give my love to JoAnne, Brett”

  Give my love to JoAnne. The phrase revolved in Brett’s head long after he’d replaced the receiver.

  I want to give my love to JoAnne.

  Does JoAnne still love my brother?

  Did JoAnne ever love my brother?

  Does JoAnne know how to love?

  They had come so close that night, so very close to a breakthrough, to a meeting of the minds as well as of the flesh. Brett swallowed the bitter taste of defeat coated with self-destructive jealousy. Both emotions were unfamiliar and unacceptable to him. Brett knew he would have to do something to rectify the situation, and soon. The question was what?

  I hate this!

  The silent cry came from the soul. There was nothing new or unique about the protest. Brett had been living with it now for what seemed like most of his life. Stalemate. To Brett, the marriage was in a position of stalemate. So what do you do? he taxed himself. Write it off? Brett refused to as much as consider calling it quits without a fight.

  What had gone wrong? Brett’s lips curved wryly. What had ever been right about it... other than the purely physical? Then again, there had been some moments, times when he and Jo had been in smooth accord. Those times had been a lure, a teaser, promising a rich relationship if they could bridge the gap.

  That was what had been so exciting for a little while the night he’d come home from the Poconos. Brett could still feel the tremor of expectation that had shivered through him that night. For a brief, breathless moment, he had allowed himself to believe Jo was beginning to care for him. Jo had talked more openly than ever before. She had even revealed signs of resentment for Marsha. For an instant, Brett had actually convinced himself Jo’s resentment was caused by jealousy. Euphoric, Brett had felt the time right to mention Jo’s affair with Wolf. Jo’s sudden, chilly silence had said more than any lengthy explanation. Jo had stopped talking and, during these interminable three weeks, had conversed on a surface level. It was only after they were in bed that Jo displayed animation.

  Brett felt his body harden in reaction to a flashing image of Jo, her breathing shallow, her lips parted, writhing and moaning beneath him. Their physical union was as close as Brett had ever hoped to get to perfect. The strange thing was, his desire appeared to be feeding itself. The more Brett had of Jo, the more he wanted her! Satiation was transient. Hunger was self-renewing. Need. Need. Need.

  Turning abruptly, Brett strode back to his desk. He didn’t have time to indulge in wishful thinking. His movements purposeful, Brett drew a pile of reports to the center of the desk. After reading the first sheet of paper contained in the first report for the second time, he closed the folder and pushed the pile away again. Resting his head against the chair’s high back, Brett stared sightless at the large photograph of the first Renninger-built condominium on the wall opposite his desk.

  His concentration was a thing of the past. Perhaps his mother was right and he did need a rest. Brett’s smile was both bitter and derisive. He certainly didn’t expect to get much rest at the farm! Not if he had to play the role of watchdog around Jo and Wolf. At the thought, Brett went rigid in the well-padded chair.

  Is this what being in love had brought him to? Brett shuddered at the idea of himself sniffing at the heels of his wife and brother.

  God damn it! No! He’d see them both in hell first! She was not worth it. No woman alive was worth it! Damn Wolf! Damn Jo! And damn my own love for her! If, when Wolf is once again in residence behind this desk, they still want each other, I’ll go back to Atlanta alone! I can live without her!

  But, oh God, I love her!

  A short distance down a wide, plushly carpeted hall, Jo sat in a similar, if smaller office, at a similar, if smaller desk, coming to a similar, if softer decision. Jo had not damned Wolf. Jo had not damned Brett. Jo had not even damned herself. Jo had reached the same conclusion as Brett. She would remain in New York when Brett went back to Atlanta.

  The relationship they had so very suddenly dived into was crumbling with equal swiftness. How long could she go on living with a stranger? Jo had grown weary with the repetition of the question. How long could she bear coexistence with a man who was always polite, most times even pleasant, a searing flame in bed, but a stranger nonetheless?

  Was it worth it? Jo lowered long lashes over eyes stinging with hot moisture. Another failure. Was she to go through life drifting in and out of affairs? Successful in her chosen career, ineffectual in any personal relationship? Or was her mother right after all? Was it all a hoax, a shimmering facade—this idea, or ideal, of a real, lasting love between a man and a woman?

  Rebellion stirred deep inside Jo. If the whole concept of love was nothing more than a myth, then what was the purpose of life? Without the humanizing presence of love, romantic love, humans would be reduced to the lowest level, and life itself would become a barren waste. Every atom of intelligence Jo possessed rejected the cold precept. Her mother was wrong! She had to be wrong! Jo refused to view life as a grinding ordeal, or humans as automatons, untouched or unsoftened by the gentle kiss of love.

  Why can’t Brett love me?

  Shivering, Jo opened her eyes to stare at the plain, narrow gold band on her left ring finger. Jo wanted to live to be a very old lady and still be wearing that gold band when she closed her eyes for the last
time. But without Brett’s love, the ring was valueless.

  Reflective of her husband’s actions, Jo pushed her chair away from the desk and walked to the window. If only Brett had not mentioned her affair with Gary in quite that accusing tone! Or was she too sensitive about that fiasco? Why couldn’t they just sit down and talk like two intelligent, mature adults? Maybe she ought to look Brett straight in the eyes and say: I love you. Now what are you going to do about it? Jo sighed. She knew full well that it was the fear of Brett’s answer that kept her from speaking to him about her feelings. Still, Jo knew that something would have to give, and soon. She simply could not continue to live in this void.

  Jo stood at the window a long time, her thoughts revolving, always coming back to the same point. Something, or someone, would have to give. Jo had the very uncomfortable feeling that the someone would be JoAnne Lawrence Renninger.

  Since their marriage, whenever Brett was in the office, he came for her when it was time to go home. It was after six before he strode into Jo’s office that afternoon. As usual, the sight of him set Jo’s pulses racing. Today Brett’s grim expression increased the pulse rate to a gallop.

  “Are you ready to leave?”

  For all the work she’d accomplished, she might as well have stayed home in the first place! Jo refrained from offering the information. Come to that, there hadn’t been all that much work to do! Had Brett been as idle as she these last weeks? Jo rejected the idea at once. From all reports, he had not allowed his first wife to interfere with his work, and he had been in love with her! Jo nodded in answer and began collecting her briefcase, handbag, gloves, and coat, suppressing the longing to have the power to interfere with his daily routine.

  “Well, at least I’ll soon be saying good-bye to this place.” Brett made the thickly drawled observation as they entered the apartment.

  Startled, and more than a little shocked, Jo’s gaze trekked Brett’s as he scanned the room. She would have sworn he liked the apartment! The full content of his statement hit her in a rush. Was Brett obliquely telling her he was leaving her? Jo’s fear hid itself behind a calm tone.

  “Are you going somewhere?” God! She sounded bored! And, from the sharp glance Brett sliced at her, he did not appreciate her enforced smoothness.

  “We are going somewhere,” Brett enunciated harshly. “I had a call from Mother today.” Removing his coat, Brett held it in one hand and reached for Jo’s with the other. “She is expecting us at the farm for Easter,” he continued as he hung the garments in the closet. Jo felt pinned by his steely eyes when he turned to face her. “It’s time to return to Atlanta.” Brett walked to within a few inches of her before adding, “Wolf’s ready to resume control of the New York office.”

  “But that’s wonderful!” Jo momentarily forgot her own unhappiness on hearing about Wolf’s recovery. Brett brought her back to earth with a crash.

  “Are you going with me?” Brett’s quiet tone conflicted with the muscle jumping in his jaw.

  To where? Jo wondered in confusion. To Florida or Atlanta? And why was he suddenly so tense? And, damn it, why did he sound so relieved about leaving the apartment? Ask him, you fool! Jo opened her mouth, then closed it again, damning herself for the coward she’d become. Fortunately, Brett unwittingly gave her a reprieve.

  “I told Mother we’d fly down the middle of next week,” Brett went on when it became obvious she was not going to respond. “It seems there’s a family conference awaiting us. Will Wednesday be convenient for you?”

  “Yes, of course.”Jo frowned. “What is the conference all about?”

  “Who knows?” Brett shrugged. “But, knowing Mother, it will probably mean more work for all of us.”

  * * * *

  Brett breathed in deeply as the plane soared off the runway into the clear morning sky. After a week of figuratively holding his breath, it was a relief to breathe without constraint. At every minute of every hour of every day Brett had expected Jo to tell him she was not going with him. Now, with Jo strapped into the seat beside him, Brett allowed his taut body to relax. The ending would come soon enough. Until the final moment was upon him, Brett wanted her right where she was, by his side.

  My beautiful, fragile-looking, tough-as-a-marine wife. Brett smiled sadly inside his mind. Since meeting Jo the previous October, Brett had revised every one of his opinions about her but one. At that time, he had concluded that Jo was a confection spun of pure steel. Now Brett knew his conclusion had been correct. Then again, perhaps Marsha’s theory held merit. Maybe Jo simply did not like men! Not once in the two months they had been together had Jo looked at another man with even a hint of interest. As to that, Jo hadn’t revealed a hell of a lot of interest in him, either, except in the bedroom!

  Brett had to clench his teeth against the bitter laughter that rose in his throat. Now, there’s a switch! Weren’t men forever getting rapped for being unable to communicate outside of the bedroom?

  Brett had never consciously thought about it before but, at that moment, he decided that most of what he’d heard and read about the differences between the sexes was simply nonsense. Once the obvious hurdle was cleared, the fact was there was very little difference between the male and the female.

  The fact denoted equality.

  The thought sprang into Brett’s mind and refused to be dislodged. In all honesty, he had to admit, at least to himself, that Jo was indeed his equal.

  They should make a brilliant combination, Brett mused. The ideal team. So, why didn’t they?

  Because she does not love you.

  Square one. From a distance that seemed like light-years, but was in fact not yet two full years, Brett acknowledged that the love he’d thought he’d felt for Sondra was as water compared to wine in what he felt for Jo. What he felt for Jo was a totally different kind of loving. Other than in the physical sense, he’d really not needed Sondra. Brett knew he needed Jo, in every sense known to man. If he required proof, all Brett had to do was remember the desperation he’d felt while making love to Jo ever since he’d received the phone call from his mother. For Brett, the act had gone far beyond the physical coupling of a man and a woman. In effect, what he had been attempting to do was draw the essence of Jo into himself; in a sense, to store up on her for a rainy day. And yet Brett still felt empty.

  Emptiness has to be filled with something: Brett filled his personal void with anger. His fury was unreasonable and he knew it. Yet there it was, eating through him like a hot tongue of fire. Anger at Wolf, the brother he idolized. Anger at Jo, the woman he adored. Anger at himself, for getting involved in the first place. Brett’s anger fostered determination. He could not…would not give Jo up without a fight!

  The same black Cadillac with the same taciturn driver was waiting for them at the small airstrip in Florida, only this time the sun was shining brightly and the temperature hovered in the mid-seventies. There was not a hint of rain, either in the air or on the horizon.

  Jo, grateful for Brett’s suggestion that she wear light clothing, looked around with interest as they walked to the car. The airstrip and the small office-hangar had the appearance of having been plunked down in the middle of nowhere, so isolated were they.

  Josh’s greeting was every bit as terse and laconic as it had been in December. Brett’s reply was as tight-lipped. Dismissing both men from her mind, Jo sat close to the window, her gaze skimming over the lush green pasture land they were driving through.

  “Those trees are beautiful!” Jo exclaimed, indicating the huge pines that dotted the pastures and the large, tree-shaped cones that decorated the grass beneath the widely spread branches.

  “Yes.”

  Brett’s short reply robbed Jo of her delight in seeing Florida basking in the sunlight. Her first glimpse of sleek Thoroughbreds ambling serenely behind white rail fences restored her enthusiasm. Jo had never seen a Thoroughbred horse before, yet even she could recognize the fine lines and elegant appearance of the animals. It was not exactly love a
t first sight. Oh, the horses were very beautiful, but they were also very large, Jo decided she’d prefer to admire from a distance.

  The drive seemed much shorter, and the house much larger, than before. As the car glided to a smooth stop in the curving driveway in front of the house, Jo was again struck by its likeness to pictures she’d seen of antebellum plantation homes. The word tranquility sprang to Jo’s mind. As she stepped from the car, Jo fervently hoped she’d find a measure of that tranquility while she was within its walls. As Jo and Brett mounted the steps, the door was flung wide open.

  Elania Calaveri was exactly as she had been in December. Jo smothered a bubble of laughter as the woman again took Brett to task.

  “Well, what a surprise!” Elania exclaimed in mock amazement. “Only half of Holy Week gone and you’re here already! Are you sick or something?” As they entered the imposing hall, the housekeeper directed her comments to Jo in a confiding manner. “Never could keep this hellion in one place for very long. He was always eager to be gone, even as a boy. He’d be up and out of the house so early, I had to teach the scamp to cook his own breakfast to make sure he’d get a decent meal inside him, as he seldom came home before dark.”

  Jo shot a gleaming glance at her scowling husband. One bursting sentence from Elania had cleared up the mystery of how and why Brett had learned to cook. Eager to be gone. The words reverberated in Jo’s mind. Did that explain Brett’s strained behavior of the past several weeks and his obvious relief about leaving the apartment soon?

  Was the adult Brett still the same as the boy—eager to be gone? Caught up in speculation, Jo missed Brett’s greeting to Elania, snapping to attention when she heard her name.

  “I’m sorry, I was…admiring the house and didn’t hear what you said,” she lied unevenly when Brett repeated her name impatiently.

  “I said,” Brett reiterated, “Elania has just told me that none of the others know we’ve arrived as they are in the dining room having lunch. Would you like to freshen up before we join them?”