“Gee, I don’t know.”
Jordan started the motor, switched into drive and headed home. “Creative, aren’t you?” he said to Clifford. “I see I’m going to have to channel that. By the way, don’t let me forget to buy you a guitar. Nobody plays mine but me.”
“Don’t worry, Unca Jordan. I won’t let you forget. Not as—”
“—long as cats scratch,” Jordan finished for him.
Leslie let the moment, the conversation, the feeling of belonging and the love seep into her being. She closed her eyes and gave her mind free rein. The more time she spent with Jordan, the more her distrust of men receded. He inspired confidence and so much more. He’d said he wanted for her all that she desired for herself. If she could lose her misgivings about herself and Jordan as a couple, if she could let nature lead them, she knew he’d make her happy. If.
Chapter Seven
Deep in thought, Leslie let her gaze sweep her surroundings, while Jordan parked the car and Clifford dashed into the house to show Julia his cake and tell her about his visit with Minnie Haynes. She entered the house and realized that she was loathe to resume her role as cook and maid. For most of the day, she had been her old self, unencumbered by concern for her safety, enveloped in the affection that Minnie always showered on her and toe to toe with Jordan while they bantered as equals.
“Pull yourself together, girl,” she told herself and headed for the kitchen, where she knew Julia would be preparing supper.
“You cooked dinner today, so I’ll do the supper,” she told Julia.
“Shucks, you’ll do no such thing. If Jordan had wanted you to help with the dinner, he wouldn’t have taken you with him and Clifford. We’ll do it together.”
Leslie thanked her, hurried over to her apartment and changed her clothes.
“You sure do know how to tone yourself down,” Julia said when Leslie walked back into the kitchen. “You came in here glowing, fresh as spring dew. Honey, you’re a genius. Didn’t take you but fifteen minutes to get rid of your sex appeal.”
Leslie knew she was in for a lecture on Julia’s favorite subject when the woman braced her hips with her hands and put an expression of impatience on her face. “Tell me why you don’t take advantage of your God-given attributes. Sex appeal is no disgrace. If you ask me, it’s a disgrace—no, it’s a curse—not to have it.” She patted her perfect coiffeur. “You won’t catch me looking plain and sexless and my Cal starting to get a roving eye.”
Leslie didn’t take offense. Julia wanted every man to look at her, but only Cal should touch her. “You’re hopeless, Julia. I’m not getting dolled up to peel onions and scrape potatoes.”
“No? Men don’t go blind just because they walk into the kitchen. Always put your best foot forward, my mother used to say.”
She heard footsteps on the back porch, and in a few seconds, Jordan stepped through the door. When he looked at her, his face brightened, and he walked over to her and slung his left arm around her shoulder.
“Jordan, I’m…I’m busy,” she stammered and glanced toward Julia to gauge her reaction to Jordan’s familiarity. But Julia pretended not to see them and concentrated on slicing ham for the men’s supper.
When Jordan hugged her, Leslie knew he was telling both her and Julia what he thought of Julia’s attitude toward his feelings for the woman in his arms. She wiped the onion-induced tears from her cheek, and Jordan, misunderstanding their source, folded her into his full embrace.
“What’s wrong, Leslie? Tell me what’s the matter.”
She resisted snuggling up to him and letting herself enjoy the sweetness of his caress. “It’s nothing. Honest. I always cry when I slice onions.”
He didn’t release her, and while she stood sheltered in his arms, Julia walked over to them. “Cut the onion in half, lay the cut side down and then slice. You won’t shed a tear.” She walked back to the other side of the kitchen and continued slicing the ham.
His arms tightened about Leslie. “She’s important to me, Julia. I don’t know how much. I only know that she is.” Leslie released her breath and waited, but she discovered that she needn’t have been anxious, that whatever Julia’s sentiments about male-female interracial relations, she loved Jordan and either wanted his happiness or wouldn’t risk the consequence of stepping out of line with him.
“I can see that, Jordan,” Julia said, “and I’m aware that it’s mutual. I just hate to think of the two of you struggling against everybody and everything like two sparrows flapping around in a hurricane. Life’s tough enough when everybody wishes you well.”
He held her closer as though to punctuate his statement. “I’ve stopped fighting it, Julia, and you may as well do the same. If I have a problem with this woman, it’s because she works for me.”
Julia leaned against the refrigerator and waved the knife with which she’d been slicing ham. “When we were trying to save those peaches, Leslie kept us at it until we finished at a quarter of two in the morning, and she would have worked until daylight. We all need someone like that, someone who’ll go to the wall for us. I can’t begrudge you such a woman. But I won’t lie and say this makes me jump for joy. Still, you won’t get any interference from me. I just thank God it’s not Joan you want.”
Leslie moved out of Jordan’s arms. “Don’t travel so fast, Julia. We’re only trying to find out if we can be friends. Nothing’s set with us. We—”
Julia’s arched eyebrow foretold her sentiments, and Leslie knew the woman would tear her words to shreds. “If I didn’t understand Jordan as well as I do,” Julia informed her, “I’d probably believe you. But I know that when he sets his cap for something, he’s like a thoroughbred with blinders on, headed for the winner’s circle. So go ahead and work on that friendship, if that’s what he tells you you’re doing.”
Jordan stared at Julia for a second, shoved his hands in his pants pockets and gave the tiled floor a few kicks with his left foot. “I’m out of here. See you at supper.”
The door had hardly closed before Julia pounced. “I hope you’ll put on some makeup and let your hair hang down the way he likes it before he gets back here.”
Leslie cocked an eyebrow, but managed to keep her tone impersonal. “I’m not giving him any more encouragement than he needs, and right now he’s moving along too fast under his own steam. Besides,” she said mostly to herself, “as Yogi said, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’”
Julia shook her head as though bemoaning human ignorance. “Maybe not, but it makes no sense to buy insurance after the house bums down; now, does it?”
They finished supper and Jordan, ignoring Julia and Cal’s raised eyebrows, carried the dishes to the sink after telling Leslie, “Put on a warm sweater and a jacket and meet me at the bottom of your stairs in fifteen minutes. Okay?”
“And don’t forget the girl stuff,” Julia called after Leslie.
Leslie couldn’t get used to Jordan’s public show of affection. She was at once ill at ease and proud as they strolled hand in hand to the stables.
Jordan saddled Serenity and held the reins while Leslie mounted. “You do that so gracefully. Serenity’s going to love you.”
That wasn’t Leslie’s main concern. “But will I love her?” she asked him, voicing her anxiety.
He shrugged. “Good question. I hope she fares better than I have, though you may be more adept at communicating your feeling to her than to me.”
She looked down at him from her perch on the big bay. “I wouldn’t dare comment on that. Where’re we going?”
He swung up on Casey Jones, grinned at her and winked. “Out back of the pecan grove where nobody can hear your cries when I’m ravishing you.”
Her face must have expressed her momentary panic, for his whole demeanor changed. “Leslie, what it is? What happened? Wait a minute. You don’t think I was serious?”
She shook her head with all the energy she could muster. She wasn’t afraid of Jordan, but of—Would she never forget F
aron Walker and that horrible night! “No. No, of course not. It was the—the moment—is all.”
She knew he didn’t believe her, but at least he didn’t probe. As though to test her, he headed them straight for the pecan groves, where he informed her that her dismounts needed improvement.
“I thought I’d made progress.”
“You have, but you need more practice, and I suggest we do this every evening after supper till you get the hang of it.”
What was his game? Her dismounts weren’t bad. “I swung my right foot over Serenity’s back until it touched the ground. then I moved my left foot out of the stirrup. What else should I have done?”
She noticed that he didn’t look at her, but busied himself tethering the horses. “You could have done it more smoothly. Handling a horse isn’t child’s play.”
She controlled her annoyance. If he needed an excuse to be with her, she could suggest something that didn’t involve a cold wind blowing in her face. His smile abated her frustration. And when his hand found hers, she forgot about the wind, for his fierce stare provoked a flurry of sensation in her.
“Let’s walk a little,” he said.
Right then, he could charm her into doing most anything and, realizing it, a wariness settled over her. “I’m…it’s chilly.” she stalled. “Maybe we should go back.”
His fingers entwined with hers, warming her. “All right, if you’d like, but if you’re cold, I can take care of that. Come here to me.”
He stopped, but she continued walking. “You’re after my head, remember?” His laughter wrapped around her, battling the rising wind, entrapping her thoughts the way a smart lawyer cages an adversary. “Do I remember? You bet I do.”
They reached a grove of large Schenley trees that Cal said bore the sweetest nuts he’d ever tasted, and Jordan picked up a handful of pecans from beneath the tree, put two of them together in the palm of his right hand, pressed and cracked them. He picked out the meat, put it to her lips and watched her in the sensual act of chewing while she stared into his eyes.
She swallowed. “You’re making putty out of me.”
He wanted to smile, but somehow, it didn’t come off. “Maybe that’s the idea, but you don’t mold easily. I’m not making much progress.”
“Why are you so sure of that?”
“If I was getting anywhere, you’d have your arms around my neck right this minute hugging me.”
He wasn’t used to deviltry in her, so the twinkle in her eyes didn’t warn him, and he gaped when she said, “Hug you? What, for two pecans?”
Her countenance mirrored the smile that he knew had taken possession of his face. He said, “You’re so irreverent. I want you to be free. I want to be with you when you let it all pour out. The fun, wickedness, wit—” He sobered. “And the secret you still keep. Here.” He cracked another pecan, shelled it and fed it to her for the pleasure of watching her chew it. It hadn’t occurred to him that chewing could be so sensuous.
“Some of that fun stuff is as new to me as it is to you,” she told him.
“You mean the wickedness? Surely you know about that sharp little tongue of yours.”
She shrugged. “After years of being straightlaced, I’ve discovered that I like feeling wicked.”
“Feel devilish enough to…to kiss me?”
“We’re supposed to be giving me riding lessons and finding out if we like each other.”
She couldn’t be serious. “I suppose I spend every minute I can with you because I don’t like you. Unless you’re dead set on pulling my chain off its hook, woman, put your arms around me.”
Her fingers brushed his cheek, and he thought he saw love in the tender expression of her eyes. Her smile lighted the dusk-encroaching world around them, and when she raised her arms, his heart thundered in joy. He’d never know how or where he got the patience to wait as she tiptoed, grasped the back of his head with her hand and brought his mouth down to hers. Her lips, eager and warm, sweet and tender, touched his mouth, taking from him something that he’d always guarded and held apart and, in that instant, he knew she was in him forever. He reeled beneath the knowledge. Sobered.
Leslie didn’t question his thoughtful manner as they headed back to the house, and he was glad. He’d have told her the truth, unvarnished, and demanded the same. He waved at Ossie in passing, helped Leslie dismount, stabled the horses and walked home with her. He knew she expected a kiss, but he didn’t feel like punishing himself. He loped down the steps that led from her apartment to the garden and paused on the bottom one. Ossie hadn’t moved and seemed to stare in the direction of Leslie’s door. He wished he’d kissed her.
* * *
Leslie showered, put on a gown and robe and sat down to work on her thesis, but his smile shrouded the pages of her notebook. She knew she’d come a long way in the seven months she’d been at the Estates, that she’d changed, grown as a person. But had her metamorphosis been so complete that she could ignore the consequences, the censure of ordinary people, because of a liaison with Jordan, and let nature dictate their dance? She wanted to. A sheen of perspiration covered her arms as her mind teased her with images of him lying above her, loving her. Embarrassed by her thoughts, she switched off the lamp and began counting sheep.
* * *
Jordan extinguished the light on his night table. Two o’clock. If he didn’t get some sleep, he’d be useless the next day. When had he last slept uninterruptedly for eight hours, or even six? He could answer that question, if he could name the day he’d begun to want Leslie. He dozed off, and the intercom buzzed. He sat up, got his bearings and pushed the button, praying that nothing was on fire.
“Saber.”
“Jordan! Jordan can you hear me? Somebody’s coming up the stairs to my apartment.”
He was on his feet. “I’m coming. Lock your bedroom door.” He hung up, stepped into his pants and boots, didn’t bother with a shirt, grabbed the .45 with its holster from his night table drawer, slung it around his hips and flipped on the floodlights that lit up the back of the house and the entrance to Leslie’s apartment. Then he punched the Bakers’ intercom and alerted Cal. A minute later he was running toward the stairs to Leslie’s apartment. He reached the bottom step just in time to see a man’s silhouette disappear around the side of the garage, obviously scared off by the brilliant lights.
“If I get my hands on you, I’ll break you in half,” he yelled in frustration, knowing the man had escaped. At his knock on her door, Leslie screamed. He started to kick the door in, but thought better of it, as he realized that would frighten her more. Instead, he used his passkey, calling her name as he did so. He walked into her bedroom as she scrambled out of bed and grabbed the lamp for a weapon, tears streaking her face. He hurt for her, knowing that she was reliving the fear that had haunted her since she’d barely escaped rape five years earlier. Without a word, he lifted her into his arms, threw the covers back, crawled into bed with her, shoes and all, and gathered her into his arms. Her wrenching sobs sent chills through him, tearing at his heart. He knew he was probably back to square one with her, but he didn’t bother with self-interest; his only concern was the well-being of the woman who had come to mean everything to him
“It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m here, and nothing and nobody can harm you.” He kissed her eyes, her nose and her forehead and whispered comforting, soothing words. But still she sobbed.
“Baby, don’t. I can’t bear to see you this way. Talk to me.” She stirred, her deep breaths telling him that she struggled to bring herself under control. As she moved in his arms, his passion awakened. But he banked it quickly, knowing that what she needed right then was not lust but tender caring.
Silently, Cal observed them from the doorway, turned and left. Julia had told him something of Leslie’s past, and he couldn’t help wondering if Jordan would ever be able to banish her fears, especially after tonight.
Jordan had similar thoughts. “Leslie, darling, you have to talk about it
. I know you’re hurting, but don’t hold it in. Let me help you.” He continued to talk to her, soothing her with his voice. “Hold on to me, Leslie. I’ve got strength enough for both of us, and I won’t let anything happen to you. Not now. Not ever. Just trust me, sweetheart.”
She turned in his arms and sought his face with her fingers. “He—it reminded me of that night—the night—Oh, Jordan, I thought he was going to—that he would manage before you got here. There’s never been anyone. If there ever is, I want you it to be you.”
Gentle now, he silently cautioned himself, cradling her while her soft sighs grabbed his heart. “Shhhhhh, sweetheart. It’s over now.” He stood abruptly, pulled the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her. When he lifted her and cradled her close to his shirtless body, she slid her arms around his neck.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you where you belong, where I can take care of you, protect you, where you should have been all along. I know you love this apartment, but I have to know you’re safe and that you’re not afraid. From now on, you stay at the house with the rest of the family. Tomorrow, we’ll move your things. You may come over here and work on your thesis or whenever you feel the need for privacy, but you’ll live under my roof. Can you accept those conditions?”
She nodded, and he carried her into the house and up the stairs to the spare room across from the master bedroom. As he walked into the room, she brushed his lips with her own, innocently, he knew.
Nonetheless, he froze in his steps. He wasn’t in any shape or mood to have his control tested, and he didn’t want to be reminded of her softness, nor of her near nakedness under that blanket. He looked at her and saw that she, too, had felt the electricity of that sweet little kiss. Glancing quickly away, he laid her gently upon the bed and reached to turn on the Tiffany lamp that graced the night table. The room was immediately suffused with a hazy glow, reflecting soft blue walls and the rose, sand and blue furnishings. She lay where he’d placed her, looking up at him with all that she felt shining in her eyes.
Against the Wind Page 14