Against the Wind

by Gwynne Forster

  She knew he’d spoken to put her at ease, so she agreed. “All right. What’ll I wear? Jeans? I don’t have any boots.”

  “Wear sneakers. But put on a long-sleeved shirt to ward off the mosquitoes.”

  She met him at the barn at seven that evening after she’d given herself a good lecture and gotten rid of her jitters.

  “Get on the horse’s left side, put your left foot in the stirrup and extend your right leg over the horse’s back. Okay?”

  “Okay. I think.”

  He patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’ll take a little time, but you’ll get it.” He led the horse from the stall and stopped in front of Leslie. “This is Serenity. She’s sweet, gentle and loyal. Get acquainted with her. Like most females, she loves hugs and kisses, so…”

  Leslie shuddered. “I’m supposed to hug this big animal? Maybe she just loves your hugs and kisses. I’m doggoned if I’ll—”

  His grin told her she was being had. “Sure. Most females would. Right?”

  She did her best to glare at him “How would I know?”

  He moved closer, and his big hands positioned her to mount the horse. “You’re a female. That’s how you know. Remember what I said, now. Left foot in stirrup.”

  She did as he said, swung her right leg over Serenity and, to her amazement, found herself sitting on a horse.

  He took off his hat. “Lady, you’re a quick study. Now, let your body sway with the horse’s gait. Pull the rein gently.”

  She did, and he mounted Casey Jones and headed them toward the brook. Jordan saluted Ossie, who passed them on his way to the house, but Leslie pretended not to see him.

  Julia smiled when Ossie walked into the kitchen. “Ossie, you’re just in time to help me with this. There’s a leak under here somewhere. Cal’s gone into Dexter and Jordan’s teaching Leslie how to ride. I’m so—”

  Ossie sucked his teeth and interrupted her. “That’s not all he’s going to teach her.”

  Julia swung around and looked at Ossie. “You noticed it, too, huh?”

  “You’d have to be blind to miss it,” he said, getting on his knees and crawling as far as he could under the sink. “And she’ll wake up soon as he gives her something to play house with.”

  Julia wrung her hands. “You don’t think Jordan would do that, do you?”

  Ossie crawled out. “He’s a man, and she’s a good looking woman. He’ll take whatever she gives him.”

  Julia shook her head. She hadn’t expected Ossie to take sides against Leslie, but she’d learned that he had integrity and didn’t mince words. She looked toward the sky and threw up her hands. “I just don’t think she’s right for him. I know she’s smart and all that, but that’d be an unnecessary burden for him.”

  “You got it,” Ossie agreed. “And he’s not right for her, either. She’s got some education; you can see that, but she could use some mother wit. Where does Cal keep his pliers?”

  She found a pair and gave them to him. “You can’t fault her work, nor her manners. Nothing,” Julia said. “What about children? Jordan doesn’t have any children.”

  Ossie’s laugh was little more than a snarl. “That was my point in the first place. You know, I just couldn’t believe it when she moved here. She could at least have given him a hard time. Don’t misunderstand me, now. I think the world of Jordan, but he’s a man.”

  “Well, that’s a complication we don’t need,” she said. She tried the spigot. “It’s not leaking now. Thanks so much, Ossie. I don’t know what we’d do without you around here.”

  * * *

  She’d just combed out her hair and slipped into a long, red cotton shift with a mid-thigh slit in time to rush to the front door and greet Cal. His whistle was music to her ears, and she kissed him until they were inside their apartment with the door locked. He held her at length, and she loved it when he swallowed, licked his lips and let his eyes tell her what a delicacy she was. An hour later, feeling like a pile of sweet mush, she rolled over in his arms and kissed his neck.

  “Jordan’s out teaching Leslie how to ride.”

  Cal pinched her bottom and stroked her arm. “It’s a good thing. Everybody here should be able to ride.”

  She sat up. “You mean you haven’t noticed what’s going on with them? Ossie just said he has no use for Leslie, and he doesn’t like how close she and Jordan are getting. I like Leslie, but if she doesn’t leave Jordan alone, I won’t.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Why not? The last thing we need here is a disruptive influence. I trust Ossie’s judgment in this.”

  Cal pulled her down in the bed. Then he sat up and glared down at her. “Jordan Saber is thirty-six years old, and I believe he said Leslie is twenty-eight. What they do is their business, and neither you nor Ossie has one damned thing to do with it. I don’t want to hear anymore of this, and I don’t want to see you treat Leslie any differently from the way you have been. If you want a commotion around here, you interfere with Jordan’s private life. You’re the one person here who ought to know better; as much as he loves you, Julia, he won’t stand for that.” He turned out the light. “Now go to sleep.”

  But she couldn’t sleep. God forgive her, if she was wrong, but it just didn’t seem right.

  * * *

  Leslie sat straighter on Serenity and looked over at the man who smiled as he rode beside her. “I never dreamed I’d like this so much. How’m I doing so far?”

  “Great, but we won’t stay out too long this time. Your muscles have to get used to this. You might want to loll around in a hot tub before you go to sleep.”

  She was a shower person, but he didn’t need to know that. “Are you going to take me out again?” she asked, not caring if he detected the eagerness and excitement that she felt. When he nodded, she let a grin take possession of her face. “I can hardly wait.”

  They’d reached the stable, and he dismounted quickly and walked over to where she sat astride Serenity. He held up both hands, and her heart began a wild race in her chest. Did she have the nerve to put her arms around his neck when he helped her down? She reached out to him, and he lifted her close to his body and let her slide down. With little more than air between them, he stared into her eyes, his own pools of fiery desire, until she sucked in her breath at his glittering promise. Shaken, she stepped away from him, but he didn’t have to tell her that if she had made one move, she’d still be in his arms. He’d as much as said, it’s your call.

  Chapter Five

  Jordan stood on the porch darkened by the black sky. Midnight air, hot and damp, swirled around him, and he used the back of his hand to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. The perfumed odor of Julia’s roses, blown on the summer wind, teased his nostrils, reminding him of woman. Fresh. Sweet. He’d come down to the kitchen for a glass of lemonade and, for reasons he hadn’t explained to himself, had stepped out on the porch and looked up at Leslie’s apartment. It, too, stood dark and unwelcoming in the silent night. So near she was, and yet so far away. He was beginning to accept that he couldn’t rest until she belonged to him. After that…She was in him. Way down deep where he lived, dreamed and ached. And he couldn’t deny it. Didn’t want to. If only she’d relent and rid them of that barrier that prevented them from finding out what they could be to each other. He shook his head. Why was she so intractable?

  He stared at the windows of her apartment for some minutes more before turning to go back into the kitchen. As he opened the door, he could have sworn that something crashed somewhere against a window. He stood on the porch wishing he had a flashlight. Again. This time, he traced the sound to Leslie’s window. He dashed back into the kitchen and turned on the lights above the steps that led to her apartment, but by the time he got back to the porch, he could hear the footsteps of a man running. Too late. It was time he did something about Leslie, and he’d begin by putting one of his workers on night watch. He left the light on and went to bed.

  The next afternoon, S
aturday, Jordan joined Leslie, Julia and Cal in a game of bridge, but after a few hands, he tired of it. He couldn’t get his mind off Leslie and whoever had thrown pebbles at her windows the previous night. It aggravated him. Then she smiled his way, and he felt his heart turn over. He savored the innocence reflected in her soft brown eyes, the natural pout of her full, luscious mouth. The makeup-free, natural beauty of her butterscotch brown face. The fragile strands of black hair hanging all the way down to her full breast. He thought of her uninhibited warmth and how she blazed when he touched her. And he remembered the pebbles crashing against her window. She could be the opposite of the woman that her demeanor proclaimed. Still, he doubted it. Something in him wanted to shield her, care for her, protect her, and his instincts had never been far off the mark. He excused himself and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. He needed a resolution to his nagging passion. And soon. Maybe a change of scenery would be good for all of them, and it wouldn’t hurt him to see Leslie in another environment, not just with him, but with their friends as well. And he wanted Julia especially to see Leslie out of her role as cook, away from that kitchen.

  He stuck his hands in his pants pockets and sauntered back into the living room. “Look, I have an idea. Let’s all go over to Baltimore for supper. I could taste some crab cakes, and we’d give the ladies a break. How about it, Cal?” He looked at Leslie, who nodded her agreement.

  Cal stood. “Sounds good to me.” Putting an arm around his wife, who had her hair in an elegant French braid, Cal told her, “I know you have to take off those shorts, Julia, but leave your hair up.”

  “And you leave yours down,” Jordan commanded Leslie, without thinking. He saw the knowing looks that passed between Julia and Cal, but ignored them, and said to Leslie. “I wish you’d wear that pretty red sundress. I liked it a lot.”

  He noticed that she glanced at Julia. “I’d love to wear it, but I’d have to iron it.”

  “We can wait,” he said, letting all of them know that the only opinions he cared about were Leslie’s and his own. When they got back to the Estates, he walked with Leslie to her door, opened it, kissed her cheek and, in a playful attitude, shoved her into her apartment. He didn’t know when he’d had so much fun. Julia had flirted with every Joe she saw, while Cal regarded it with amused indulgence, and Leslie frankly censured Julia’s frivolous behavior.

  * * *

  The next morning, Jordan gave them another surprise. “I’m leaving this afternoon for the University of Wisconsin,” he told them, “and I’ll be gone most of the week. You won’t need me,” he said to Cal, “but I’ll leave my number in case you do. And I want you to turn the floodlights on at night and put Sanchez on night watch. The weather forecast doesn’t look too good, but I hope we don’t get any storm damage.”

  They weren’t lucky. Jordan left on Sunday afternoon, as planned, but by nightfall, the sky had blackened, and the wind had nearly risen to gale force. Throughout Monday, the storm threatened. Cal had the men tape every window, board up the barn doors and windows, secure the stables and tie the low-lying limbs on as many trees as possible. He bolstered the windows and door of Leslie’s apartment as well as he could and had her spend the night in one of the guest rooms. Then he called Jordan

  “The storm’s pretty close to us, Jordan, but there’s nothing you can do that we haven’t already seen to. Stay out there and finish your business.”

  “Thanks, Cal.” He seemed to weigh both his words and the tone of his voice. “How’s Leslie?”

  “Don’t worry, Jordan, I’ll look after her. She’s fine, except she’s a little upset about what the storm might do to your peach trees.” He spoke in lowered tones. “We all are, son.”

  “Yeah. Well, keep her there with you and Julia.” Cal hung up certain that Jordan was more concerned about Leslie than about his peach crop. By midnight, he knew that they were in for a lot of damage. The storm roared in as violently as any he had witnessed.

  “Go on to sleep,” Cal told Leslie. “Tomorrow, we’ll salvage what we can, but I don’t expect that’ll be much.”

  At five-thirty the next morning, he found Leslie peering out the kitchen window at broken tree limbs, uprooted saplings and the rubble that was strewn everywhere.

  “I guess he won’t be able to start his horse farm,” she said. “He was counting on the money from the peaches?. What do you think he’ll do now, Cal?”

  Cal regarded her carefully. He didn’t think she was this concerned because her boss would have to wait another year for his dream, but all he said was, “If we’d had another week, we would have made it. It’s bad, but you can bet he won’t let it bury him. The trees aren’t in such bad shape, Leslie. I was out there. But more than half the peaches are on the ground. Some are ripe, some hard. Well, you know.”

  Leslie swung away from the window and grabbed Cal’s arm. “You mean to say that some of the peaches on the ground are already ripe? How many?”

  “Well, most of the ones that fell are ripe. Some are bruised, and a few are green but sound. What are you thinking?” he asked her, as Julia walked in, clearly distraught.

  Before Leslie could reply, Julia cut in. “It doesn’t make a difference how he gets money from the peaches, so long as he gets it, right?” She began putting on her rubbers. “We’re going to make preserves, Leslie.”

  Leslie didn’t hesitate. “Sounds good to me. Let’s get busy.”

  To Leslie’s astonishment, Julia put on an apron. “Cal, could you ask the men to get some of those bushel baskets you use for string beans and start gathering peaches. They have to be graded for ripeness and damage. Then we have to go to Hagerstown and get some supplies.”

  Perplexed both by her message and her apron, Cal turned to his wife. “What are you going to do with hundreds of gallons of peach preserves?”

  “Bottle, label and sell them under Jordan’s logo,” Leslie put in.

  Cal looked hard at her. “I didn’t know that Jordan had a logo.” He knew his wife was an optimist, but this whole scheme was an enormous gamble. That fact didn’t perturb Julia, who repaired her lipstick and smiled broadly at Leslie’s eagerness to do anything necessary to keep Jordan’s dream alive. Cal knew Leslie had passed Julia’s test: she’d go all the way to the wall for Jordan and, for that, Julia would forever love her. She needn’t worry any more about Julia not wanting her with Jordan. He’d bet anything on that.

  “Then the three of us will have to design a logo,” Leslie informed them airily, “though I can’t even draw a straight line.”

  “But that won’t stop you,” Cal said to himself.

  Leslie rolled up her shirtsleeves and began searching for stockpots. “Come on. Shape up,” she ordered. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Sure thing.” Cal regarded Leslie with new insight and added, “Jordan’s a lucky man to have the love of a woman like you.”

  “What?” Leslie spun around, startled. She couldn’t have heard him correctly.

  Cal shook his head and smiled his slow, patient smile. “Don’t you know that you love Jordan? Well, if you don’t, let me be the first to tell you that you do. I’ll get the men started, and we’ll head for Hagerstown as soon as we can get us some coffee and a biscuit. I’m glad you’re here, Leslie, and I hope you stay.” She stared at him. Staying hadn’t been in her plans. Neither had loving Jordan.

  By mid-afternoon, they had everything they needed, including every available one-pint barrel-shaped glass jar in Hagerstown and Dexter. All eleven of the men willingly worked until well beyond nightfall to help them. Even Rocket, whom they all regarded as being mentally in the clouds, skinned more than a dozen baskets of peaches.

  Julia looked at the peaches that remained to be graded and preserved, and her shoulders sagged. “Maybe we’d better call it a night and finish tomorrow.”

  Knowing that she wouldn’t rest until they’d done everything they could, Leslie shook her head. “No way. We finish tonight.”

  Julia stared at her. �
�I believe you’d work at it all night, wouldn’t you?”

  She didn’t care what Julia thought. She nodded. “If that’s what it takes. In another day, half of this fruit will be unsalvageable. We can sleep when we finish.”

  “That’s my girl,” Ossie put in. “Wear yo sef out fo de man. Doormats are rare these days.”

  What Ossie thought didn’t faze her. “If nastiness is what turns you on, Mr. Dixon, you ought to be fired up all the time.”

  But she saw that Cal did care. His head snapped up, and he laid his knife on the table. “Exactly what do you mean by that crack, Ossie?”

  “Don’t worry,” Ossie replied. “She understands me perfectly.”

  “So do I,” Cal said, getting up and walking over to Ossie. “We need to have a talk, man “

  Ossie stood. “What about?”

  Cal nodded toward the back door. “We’d better step outside.” Ossie dusted off his jeans and followed Cal out on the back steps, and she wondered how Ossie could be so mean about something that wasn’t his business.

  * * *

  “All right. What’s the problem?” Ossie asked Cal.

  Cal knew why Ossie had unloaded on Leslie and, as long as he was in charge, he wouldn’t stand for it anymore than he’d tolerate Julia’s sniping about Jordan and Leslie.

  “The problem,” Cal said in measured tones, “is that you’ve been making these digs at Leslie ever since we started working on these peaches. That last crack was beneath you, and she doesn’t deserve it. I want you to apologize to her, and don’t do it any more.”

  It didn’t surprise him much when Ossie raised an eyebrow and said, “Sorry, Cal. I don’t eat my words.”

  Cal laid his head to one side, looked at the man and knew he wouldn’t budge. “In that case, you may discuss it with Jordan, but don’t do it again while I’m in charge here. Come on, let’s go back in there. We’ve still got work to do.”

  Ossie put his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and gave Cal a long look. “Because she refuses to quit until it’s finished?”