Against the Wind

by Gwynne Forster

  “Sure I can, and I will. Now sit back and fasten your seat belt.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  How much more was he keeping to himself? She glanced at him from the corner of her left eye. “You’re full of surprises.”

  His long fingers rested on the wheel, and the strength she saw in his hands crammed her head with things that she wouldn’t have confessed to any human being. The sudden self-knowledge bruised the image she’d had of herself, and she blanched, the way a morning glory wilts after gazing too long at the sun it adores. She could almost feel the tips of his fingers on her flesh, and it cost her some restraint not to stroke the black hairs at his wrist. To her, they said power, male energy, and she squirmed at the pictures her mind conjured up. Pictures of him. And of herself enraptured in his arms. She bit her lip and glanced at him just as he looked her way and winked. Controlling the urge to clutch at her chest required concentration, and she focused on the next chapter of her thesis.

  “If you think I’m full of surprises, stick around,” he said, his white teeth flashing behind a wide grin. “There’re a lot more. Some goodies, too,” he added, glanced at her and winked again.

  She figured she’d gain more by keeping her mouth shut than by commenting on his loaded statement. She’d never met anybody who responded more quickly with provocative, double meanings.

  “Turn left into Bush Street. It’s number seventy-seven,” she said when they entered Westminster.

  He parked in front of a neat green and white bungalow and cut the motor. Leslie got out of the car and started up the bricked walk that she’d traveled so many times. Not even a blade of grass defaced its symmetrical design. A slim, dark, middle-aged woman with a big smile threw the door open and rushed out of it, her arms flung wide as though to envelop all that she saw.

  “Leslie. Leslie. Honey, it’s so good to see you.”

  Leslie hugged the woman who’d mothered her since she was eight years old. “Mom, I’m so glad to see you.”

  They scrutinized each other as though searching for deeds done by the passage of time. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, Minnie Haynes looked over Leslie’s shoulder and then back at her foster daughter.

  “Who are your friends, honey?”

  Leslie turned toward Jordan and Clifford and introduced the three of them. She heard the pride in her voice, and a glance at Jordan and his smile of approval confirmed that he’d detected it. Minnie extended her hand to Jordan, and he enveloped it in both of his.

  “I’m glad to meet you,” he told the woman, adding that Leslie had spoken often and well of her.

  “Well,” Minnie replied, dusting her sides with her hands, “she hasn’t said one word about you, but I expect she’s going to.” At Jordan’s raised eyebrow, she went on, “And a good bit more, too. Y’all come on in.”

  As they followed her onto the porch, Leslie spoke to Jordan in lowered tones, “I should have told you she doesn’t bite her tongue.”

  He pushed Clifford in front of him and strolled into the house. “Thanks, but I’ve figured that out for myself.”

  “Pop’s downtown taking a physical,” Minnie said, explaining her husband’s absence. “He just got a job. I tell you, it’s been a long spell between paychecks. When you get older, you’re the last hired, the first fired and the one to spend the longest time looking for work after they let you go. I sure was glad to see him go out of here all dressed up this morning. Nothing hurts a woman more than to see her man without the thing that gives him his pride. And specially if it ain’t no fault of his.”

  She excused herself, went to the kitchen and returned with a tray of cake, coffee and a glass of milk.

  “Miss Minnie, did you teach Leslie how to make chocolate cake?” Clifford asked. “Hers tastes just like this.”

  Minnie assured him that she had and took a seat facing Jordan. Knowing her foster mother, Leslie decided she didn’t want to be present while Minnie grilled Jordan, took the soiled dishes into the kitchen and washed them by hand. She was about to dry them when Minnie joined her.

  “What’s going on between you two?”

  Leslie nearly swallowed her tongue. “Uh…Nothing,” she answered when she could get her breath.

  Minnie’s hands went to her hips. “Then I suppose he’s lying.”

  “You…you mean you asked him—”

  “Didn’t take much courage,” Minnie assured her, “considering the way he was looking at you.”

  “But, Mom! You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Assuming an expression of childlike innocence, Minnie told her, “He didn’t mind. Said he was working on it, but you were loaded with hang-ups about his being white. Then he asked me where I stood on the matter. I told him snakes come in a lot of different colors, and so do flowers.”

  Leslie stared openmouthed at Minnie. “Who told him I had a hang-up about him? I didn’t.”

  Minnie shrugged. “Guess he’s going on the way you act. ‘Course I don’t blame you none for keeping your head, not that I can figure out how you manage it with that man. He’s something to look at, and, Lord, don’t let him smile. Still…It pays to be careful. Ain’t nothing wrong with it, though I suspect it’s a hard row to hoe if you got half the country set against you.”

  Leslie didn’t try to hide her shock. “You mean if it was you, you’d…you’d go for it?”

  Minnie looked toward the ceiling as though asking for help. “In the first place, it ain’t me. And then…Well, depends how you feel. One thing’s for certain. He’ll get you over your petrified fear of good-for-nothing men like Faron Walker. That’s a forty-carat man out there.” She let out a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t mind if he was chocolate brown, but he ain’t, and I don’t plan to get the hives about it. You hear?”

  Stunned, Leslie groped for a chair just as Clifford bounded into the kitchen. “Miss Minnie, I sure enjoyed that cake, and my Unca Jordan said I could ask you for a piece to take home.”

  Minnie leaned over and hugged Clifford. “And I’ll give you a big piece, too.”

  Leslie made herself go back into the living room and join Jordan. She’d rather have done anything than look him in the eye, and it didn’t please her that he guessed the reason.

  “I suppose she told you she cut straight to the chase and asked me if I was more to you than your boss, as you’d phrased it when you introduced us.”

  “Yes, and she also repeated your answer.”

  He sat forward, signaling his readiness to challenge her. “And that annoyed you, didn’t it? Too bad, Leslie. The truth is liberating. Immensely so, and I feel a hell of a lot better for having told her. I’m thirty-six years old. This is a free country, and I’m not keeping what I feel for you a secret. Don’t ask it, and don’t think it. Would you please drag Cliff away from that cake and tell him we’re ready to go?”

  Clifford saved her the trouble. “Look, Leslie,” he said, holding a box. “She gave me half a cake and said I could come spend the weekend with her anytime my Unca Jordan lets me. She said all her kids are grown and on diets because they want to be skinny.” He looked at Leslie for the truth of that statement. Satisfied with its veracity, he went on, “Can I come back, Unca Jordan? She’s nice.”

  Jordan stood and, in a gesture of affection, skimmed his fingers through Clifford’s wavy black hair. “Sure you can.” He extended his hand to Minnie. “I’m glad we met. Do we understand each other?”

  She looked him in the eye. “Yes, we do, Mr. Saber. Now you—”

  “Call me Jordan. You were saying?”

  “Bring Clifford back to see me. And Leslie, I’m praying that everything will—will—” When she seemed at a loss for words, he filled the silence. “I’ll do that, and I’ll stay in touch with you. And don’t worry about Leslie. I probably need your prayers more than she does.”

  She studied his countenance, glanced at Leslie and replied, “You may be right.”

  Minnie walked with them to the car and told them goodbye amid Clifford’s p
romises that he’d see her soon. She and Jordan looked at each other, both of them nodding their heads. They’d reached an understanding all right, but they weren’t making her privy to it. She shrugged, unconcerned and secure in the knowledge that both of them cared for her.

  As the Town Car sped toward the Estates, Leslie replayed the visit in her mind. She loved her foster mother and valued her judgment, but she had no intention of allowing such lopsided encouragement as Minnie had offered to derail her course. Fate had brought Jordan Saber into her life, but that didn’t mean she had to close her eyes to all but him and abandon her dreams. Still, all the way to the recesses of her soul, she longed to know him as a man, to come alive in his arms and know herself. Shivers coursed through her as pictures of him loving her crowded her mind.

  His hand covered hers, and she looked up quickly to see the smile that molded his face. Had she somehow communicated to him her thoughts?

  “Where were you?” he asked. “I think you were miles away from me.”

  “Uh…I was…” She inclined her head toward the backseat. “Silence sometimes has big ears.”

  Jordan glanced at the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry. He’s fast asleep. So. Planning your escape, huh? That’ll take a lot of skill, honey. And I’m warning you, if you’re not sweet to me, I’m going to wreck your dreams.”

  She stared at him, agape at his perceptive remark. “So you’re a dream smasher? I’d started to think you were a mind reader.”

  He stroked the back of her hand until, pulled by a force greater than herself, she capitulated and turned her hand over to unite with his palm.

  “So you were thinking about me. Good. I’d be upset if you told me that soft dreamy look was for another guy. Might as well stop fighting me, Leslie. Walk away from me, from us, from this,” his fingers wrapped around hers, “and fifty years from now, you’ll still wonder how it might have been. No matter what man comes into your life, you’ll believe you would have found more with me. And that’s because your intelligence tells you that I aim to knock down every wall you put up and cultivate every nerve in your body, to satisfy myself and you that I’ve completely fulfilled you as a woman. You know that, and you long for it. That’s why you’ll remember me as long as you breathe.”

  Her nerves quivered at the husky sensuality of his voice and the drugging meaning of his words, and her heartbeat quickened erratically. But she refused him the assurance that he’d called her number.

  “I read that some modern-day prophets moved themselves and their families halfway across the world to await the Second Coming. A week after the date passed without incident, they drifted back home. You may be better at foretelling the future, but I’m keeping an open mind. So don’t package my life for me, Jordan, because you can’t foretell my future. And if you could, I wouldn’t want to know it.”

  His shrug belied the seriousness of his tone. “All right, if you don’t believe me. But you remember this, Leslie. I go after what I want. And when it’s something that I need, I leave no stone unturned.” His long fingers claimed hers with warm strokes of affection. “You’re my partner in this, honey, because you and I want the same thing.”

  “Let’s stop and get some ice cream, Unca Jordan,” Clifford sang out, calling attention to himself, oblivious to the drama in the front seat.

  “So you’re awake. All right. Soon as we get to the next rest stop.”

  A few minutes later, Jordan turned off the highway and parked. Leslie didn’t want anything, so he gave Clifford a $5 bill.

  “Get yourself two scoops in a cup and bring me the change.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Leslie watched the boy in his dash for Howard Johnson’s, Jordan’s arm around her shoulders wasn’t what she would have expected. His fingers caressed her back, shoulders and her right arm. As if on automatic pilot, she moved to him, and his lips claimed hers, thrilling, heating and possessing her until she clutched at his chest and parted her lips for his kiss. He dipped his tongue quickly into her mouth. Then, with his fingers stroking her face, he began to speak.

  “You promised to give us a chance to be friends, to get to know each other and to discover our own selves. But you renege whenever you get cold feet. I didn’t park here because Clifford needed ice cream after eating all that cake. I drove in here and stopped because you needed a reminder. We want each other, and I have no intention of letting you forget it.”

  She didn’t like hearing it from his mouth even if it was true, so she slid away from him, sat back in the bucket seat and strummed her fingers along the dashboard.

  “Jordan, you don’t need to say everything you think, and a little downsizing of your ego wouldn’t hurt you one bit. Did it occur to you that our goals may not be compatible? That we may not be after the same things? You’ve got it made, and I’m still trying to make it.”

  He slapped the steering wheel with his left hand and turned fully to face her. “Those are just words, Leslie. You and I are completely compatible, and I want for you everything you want for yourself. So don’t hand me that line. I’m not swallowing it.”

  She flung the dart that she knew would irritate him the most. “I suppose you’ve forgotten that I’m your cook.”

  He grabbed both of her shoulders. “No, I haven’t, and you’re holding that over my head like the sword of Damocles. If I fire you, you’ll leave the Estates, and I won’t know where you are. If you stay, you’ll use your job against me. But I’m not giving up, because I know you care for me and that you need Saber Estates.”

  Alarmed that he might have learned Faron Walker’s identity and that Faron might have been to the Estates, she jerked away from Jordan. “Of course, I need the Estates. I’d looked for a job for weeks before you hired me.”

  He looked at her with eyes that seemed dim with unhappiness. “And what about me? Do you or don’t you need me?”

  He had no right to pressure her, to back her into a corner, and she yielded to her temper, finding that her most reliable shield. “Now you’re breaking your promise. You said you’d be patient, that you’d nurture a friendship with me. But you’re pushing me, and I want you to stop it.”

  His arm snaked around her shoulders, caressing her, warming her and scattering marbles around in her belly. “I will be patient if you’ll give me one modicum of encouragement.”

  She stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. “I kissed you, didn’t I? More than once, in fact. If that’s not a modicum, I wish you’d define the word for me.”

  His green eyes flashed sparks, as if he dared her not to care for him. “Yeah. But you’ll do that anytime I get my hands on you. That’s your body talking, not your head. I’m after your heart and your head.”

  She sat back in the soft leather seat and folded her arms. “A gentleman doesn’t hit below the belt.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair in obvious frustration. “Listen to me, will you? Mutual caring and electricity between a man and a woman are rare and precious, Leslie, and I can’t let you throw it away and ruin it for both of us.”

  She refused to yield to what she felt, because one day soon, it would all be over. “Aren’t you taking a lot for granted? How can you be so sure that it’s mutual?”

  He turned to face her fully, resting his right elbow on the back of his seat. “Isn’t it? Are you saying you don’t feel anything for me? Well, if you told me that, I wouldn’t believe you. Get over your hang-up, and let me show you what we’re missing. Sweetheart, you have no idea how bright the sun can shine.” A grin creased his tantalizing mouth. “Give me a chance, and I’ll light up your world.”

  She believed his every word, and if she had any sense, she’d get away from him, and fast. But go where? She had to finish her degree, and she had to be safe from Faron Walker. She feigned nonchalance.

  “You want too much right now.”

  His grin was meant to tantalize her, and as if to rub it in, he pulled the curl that dangled beside her ear. “Shouldn’t be much of a stretch, sw
eetheart. Two down, one to go.”

  She tossed her head and smothered a grin. Doggoned if she’d let him get the better of her. “You haven’t counted on my willpower.”

  His grin broadened. “Oh, but I have. In the duel between your body and your willpower, I expect your body to win every time. Your head’s my problem. I have to get you thinking Saber night and day.”

  Laughter bubbled up in her, and she let it fly free, a magical release of the tension that had lodged in her for most of the day.

  “Let me in on the fun,” he said, the mesmerizing grin noticeably absent.

  When she could stop laughing, she said, “Jordan, you are the fun. You are no stranger to my head.”

  “I don’t get it. You mean…?”

  She nodded. “Uh huh. So, like I said, it’s my willpower we—I mean, you—have to deal with.”

  It was his turn to laugh, and he let it out. “Long as you and I both have to worry about it, I’ve got a sporting chance. For starters, you’re due another riding lesson. How about after supper today?’

  When she agreed, he checked the time and looked around. Clifford sat on a bench not far away, and Jordan patted Leslie’s hand, got out and went to the boy, who stared into space.

  “Why did you sit out there?” Leslie asked him when they returned.

  He bunched his shoulders in a shrug. “I didn’t think you and Unca Jordan wanted me here. I mean—”

  Jordan interrupted him. “I kissed Leslie. Men and women do that sometimes. Just because we’re not concentrating on you doesn’t mean we’re rejecting you. We kiss you, don’t we?”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, but without his usual assertiveness.

  “All right. You and I belong together,” Jordan told him, “and I don’t want you to feel left out again. Got it?”

  Clifford leaned forward and put his arms around Jordan’s neck. “No, sir, Unca Jordan. I won’t. Not as long as cats scratch.”

  Jordan paused in the process of inserting the key in the ignition, turned and stared at his nephew. “Where’d you get that?”