“You’re welcome.” She sat back down and placed her hands around her mug. “I have a confession.” She looked up with tears in her eyes.
Chapter 5
Jamie swallowed. “I’ve been avoiding you.”
“Oh?” Dameon sipped his hot cocoa.
“You know what you said in my room the other night? You know, about the attraction?”
He nodded his head and held on to his mug.
“I find myself thinking about you all the time. I want to talk with you, but I’m afraid. I—”
He placed his hand upon hers and caressed it with his thumb. “Avoiding me is probably making you think about me more than you would if you hadn’t been trying to avoid me. But I haven’t been around much, either. I’ve been working pretty long hours.”
“Yes, and that’s why I feel we need to talk. You shouldn’t be putting in so many hours. Are you trying to avoid me?”
“No, I was looking forward to spending some time with you, but Wilson left work early this evening, so I had to do his job as well as my own. Trust me, I’m not working longer than I have to in that kitchen. Don’t get me wrong; I’m grateful for the work. It will help my parents with their payment on the farm. But I’m not fond of washing dishes. I’d much rather be up to my arms in manure than in greasy dishwater.”
“Eww, yuck.” She pulled her hand free.
Dameon chuckled. “I’m clean now.”
Jamie giggled.
“I did something else you probably won’t be pleased with.”
He sat up straight. Jamie thought for a moment before she continued. Would he see this as an invasion of his personal life? “I spoke with Mr. Daschel and asked if you could have tomorrow morning off.”
“What? What on earth for?”
“I thought you might enjoy watching the speed skating competition.” She crossed her arms. Why does he have such a problem with someone giving him a gift?
“Jamie, it’s a generous offer, but don’t you think you should have spoken with me first? Wouldn’t it have been wiser to ask me rather than to assume I’d agree to it?”
“But …” She paused. She’d done it again—stepped over those boundaries that always seemed to get her in trouble. Her giving heart mixed with her take-charge personality had landed her in this position more times than she cared to remember. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm by it.”
She stood up and placed her cup in the sink. Drinking hot chocolate didn’t appeal to her quite as much as it had a few moments earlier. “Good night.”
“Jamie.” He captured her hand as she passed by him.
The tiny hairs on her arm stood at attention. A longing to be closer to Dameon caused her to capture a glimpse of his wonderful hazel eyes.
“Jamie,” he whispered. His voice tickled the edges of her ears like a feather and traveled down her neck to her spine. She closed her eyes and tried to break the connection.
Dameon stood. He slid his hand up her arm and held on to her shoulder. Placing his other hand on her other shoulder, he turned her toward him. “My sweet sweetheart, I’m sorry. I know you meant well.”
Unable to move, she stood there, mesmerized by his words, his touch. A desire to be wrapped in his arms and held for all eternity overcame her. She stepped forward. His long arms pulled her toward him the rest of the way.
He kissed the top of her head. “Oh, Jamie, what are we going to do about us?”
She snuggled her head into his chest. “I don’t know.”
“I want to kiss you, Jamie.” He stroked her hair with a feather touch.
I want to kiss you, too, but I’m afraid.
“I suggest you don’t.” Her father’s harsh voice resounded through the room. Jamie jumped back out of Dameon’s embrace. Her father’s rigid stance in the doorway showed his anger at what he’d just encountered.
“I’m sorry, sir. I take full responsibility here,” Dameon said. “I’ll get my things and leave.”
“That’s a wise decision, Mr. Grant.” Her father narrowed his gaze on Dameon.
“Daddy, don’t be ridiculous. Nothing happened. Besides, I’m just as responsible for … for …”
“Henri, what’s all the commotion?” Her mother came into the kitchen, cinching the tie of her bathrobe. “Jamie? Dameon? What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Preston. I’ve taken advantage of your daughter. I’ll be leaving immediately.”
“Advantage?” Jamie felt like a microorganism under a microscope as she felt her mother’s intense scrutiny. “Dameon, you didn’t take advantage of me. We were only going to kiss. Is that a crime?” she huffed.
Her mother started to giggle, then stopped herself. “Dameon, you may spend the rest of the night. We’ll talk in the morning. Jamie, go to bed. Now,” her mother added with a bit more sternness. “Henri.” She took him by the hand. “We’ll discuss this in the morning.”
Jamie knew better than to push her mother when she took on this tone. “Good night, Dameon. Don’t leave before we get a chance to talk.”
Her father glared at her.
Jamie ran out of the room.
“I should go,” Dameon protested.
Jamie stopped in the hallway and listened.
“Mr. Grant,” her mother addressed him in her proper tone. “It’s well past midnight. There’s no place for you to go, and I won’t hear of you sleeping in a tent in this weather. Now go to your room, and we’ll discuss this matter in the morning.”
“Yes, Mrs. Preston. I’m sorry.”
Jamie snuck down the hall before Dameon would see her. He walked past her with his shoulders slumped, rubbing the back of his neck.
She ran to the back stairway to avoid her parents. In her room, she paced. She had wanted to kiss Dameon, and he had wanted to kiss her. Why is love so complicated?
Dameon packed his clothing and few personal items when he returned to his room. For an hour he castigated himself over his foolish outburst of desire. Hadn’t he been reminding himself daily that there was no place for him in Jamie’s life? Or for her in his life? He was a dairy farmer. Milking cows, mucking out the stalls, and watching over the livestock didn’t fit her vocabulary. In her mind, milk came from a glass bottle from the store, and butter came wrapped in waxed paper.
During the second hour, he pondered his desires. Why did he want to kiss Jamie? Why did he want to get to know her better, to spend some real time talking with her? Was it so wrong to want a woman who didn’t fit his social standing?
By the third hour, he was on his knees, praying and asking the Lord to guide him with his decision about Jamie and about a possible relationship with her and her parents. How could he bring honor back into the house where he had so disappointed Mr. and Mrs. Preston?
Around four o’clock, he fell fast asleep on the floor, where he’d been on his knees in prayer. When the cock crowed at five, somewhere in the back of his mind the sound registered, but he made no effort to get up. Instead, he rolled into a fetal position and continued to sleep.
“Mr. Grant.” The words flooded into his foggy brain.
“Mr. Grant,” the voice demanded.
Dameon stretched.
“Mr. Grant.” Dameon’s clouded brain finally registered it as Henri Preston.
Dameon jumped up. “I’m sorry, sir. I must have overslept.” Dameon straightened the clothing he’d slept in.
Henri Preston leaned against the doorframe. “You slept on the floor?”
Dameon looked down at his feet. His Bible lay open, its pages crinkled from where he’d rubbed up against them during his sleep. “I was praying, and I must have fallen asleep.”
“Do you study the Scriptures?” Henri Preston narrowed his gaze. He had the same shade of brown eyes as Jamie’s, Dameon noted.
“I read and do my devotions. I’m not a theologian, but I do like to compare what the Bible says about a subject from as many references as possible.”
“Interesting.” Mr. Preston stood up straight
. “Come into the parlor after you’ve cleaned up and had something to eat. My wife and I would like to have a few words with you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dameon knew what the few words were, but the Prestons were too proper to simply come out with it. Pack your bags and be gone. Six words were all it would take.
A short time later, Dameon found himself walking down the hallway to the front parlor. His feet felt like lead. Muffled conversation emanated from the front room. Taking in a deep breath, he walked in to face the firing squad. He deserved whatever they dished out, and being a man who would take responsibility for his actions, he’d face their accusations.
“Mr. Preston, Mrs. Preston.” He nodded to each of them as he entered the room.
Jamie’s eyes were swollen and red. His heart skipped a beat. He wanted to cradle her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. He needed to make everything all right.
“Have a seat, Mr. Grant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“As you’re well aware, I caught you and my daughter in a very compromising position last night.”
“Yes, sir.” What else could he say? He glanced over to Jamie, who sat across from him in a straight-backed Windsor chair.
“And you apologized for your behavior and took full responsibility for it, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But, Daddy …”
Henri Preston raised his hand, and Jamie’s protest stopped.
“I’ve packed my belongings and will be on my way. I’ll even leave Lake Placid, if you wish.”
Henri Preston sat down in the corner of the room. “That is what concerns me the most. That you would take such liberties with my daughter and could leave just as easily. Are you in the habit of using women for your own pleasure, Mr. Grant?”
Dameon felt the heat rise on his face. “No, sir. I …” He turned and looked at Jamie and gave her a brief smile. “I like your daughter very much. But I would never intentionally do anything to dishonor her or you, her parents. I respect her too much.”
Henri coughed.
Mrs. Preston stepped in. “Then may I suggest you stay but give your word that you won’t dishonor Jamie again.”
How could he give his word? Right now, he wanted to sweep Jamie into his arms and kiss away all her hurts. How could he stay in the house and promise not to kiss her? “No, Mrs. Preston, I can’t promise that.”
“What?” Henri Preston jumped up.
“Sir, let me explain. I like Jamie; I like her a lot. I want to get to know her. My heritage, my upbringing as a Yank, means if you give your word, it’s a promise that you’ll not go back on. I can’t promise that I won’t kiss your daughter. I can promise I won’t compromise her or take advantage of her.”
“Did you hear that, Sophia?” Henri Preston turned to his wife.
Jamie got up and joined Dameon on the sofa. She slipped her hand into his.
“Yes, Henri, I heard it. Did you?” Sophia winked at her husband, then turned to Dameon and Jamie. “Do you give me your word you will treat our daughter honorably?”
“Yes, Mrs. Preston, I give you my word.” Dameon held on to Jamie’s hand.
“Go. Go now and enjoy your morning off. Henri and I will speak with you two later.”
Dameon didn’t dare wait a moment longer. He jumped up and left the room with Jamie right beside him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, too.” He wrapped a protective arm around her. “Get your coat. We’ll go see the morning games.”
“Wonderful.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. Then she ran up the stairs, and he headed back toward his room. He heard a few words between Mr. and Mrs. Preston before entering his room.
“She’s growing up, dear,” Sophia commented.
“I know, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Mr. Preston huffed.
“True, but I think we can trust the two of them.”
“Maybe.”
If nothing else, Dameon knew one thing: Sophia Preston had a way of making her husband see past his fears. Not that they weren’t founded fears. He didn’t know Dameon. How could a father trust a man, a stranger, with his only daughter? Dameon thought about what it would be like to have a daughter of his own one day. Nope, sons would be better. I definitely want sons.
Jamie wrapped her arm around Dameon’s waist as they made their way to the stadium. “Did you really mean what you said about liking me?”
Dameon stopped. “Of course. Why would you ask such a silly question?”
She shrugged. He had no idea what it was like growing up with such a beautiful and graceful mother.
“Jamie.” He lifted her chin with his finger so she was looking up at him. “I do like you.”
“I like you, too.” She gave him a weak smile. Tears threatened once again. She’d been a basket case all night long. She’d felt horrible at the prospect that he might be kicked out, especially in this frigid weather.
“I want to kiss you.” He pulled her tighter into his embrace. “But not now. Not here.”
“Just kiss me and get it over with. This waiting is killing me,” she teased.
Dameon chuckled, then wiggled his eyebrows. “Not right now, sweetheart. The right time and the right place, but not out here where everyone can see us and quickly report back to your parents.”
“I think they know you’re going to kiss me. How could you be so bold with them?”
Dameon snickered. “It wasn’t boldness; it was sheer fear. I can’t imagine not telling your parents the truth. You and I both know what we’re feeling for one another will lead to a kiss. At least once.”
“Yeah, but to say no, that you couldn’t give your word.”
“I couldn’t. I would have kissed you if I stayed with you. I know that. You know that, and I think your mother knows that. Your father, on the other hand, would rather have my hide nailed to the woodshed for safekeeping.”
They continued to walk to the stadium. Jamie showed her pass, and they entered. “Daddy’s never behaved that way before.”
“Has he ever caught you about to kiss a man when you were in your bathrobe?”
“No. I guess I see your point.”
“Trust me, men know what other men think. If I had a daughter, I wouldn’t let her near a guy.”
“Oh, really. And why is that?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
She poked him in the ribs. “Yes, I do.”
“Let’s just say, when a boy is growing into a man, he has quite a few thoughts that he needs to repent from regarding the opposite sex.”
She’d never had thoughts about a boy she needed to repent from, had she? The flicker of a memory concerning Randolph Evans filtered through. Her cheeks flamed. “You’re right. I don’t want to know.”
Dameon smiled. She loved the set of his jaw, so masculine and yet so personal.
They took their seats next to the speed skating rink. Jamie leaned into his shoulder. He wrapped his left arm around her once again. Peace washed over her. The late night and morning had been horrible. Now she felt calm and rested.
“Go!” Dameon jumped up. “Go, go!” he shouted, cheering on the skaters.
Chapter 6
Dameon placed the last stack of dishes back on the shelves. He glanced up at the clock and sighed. The day had dragged after coming to work. It paled in comparison to the time he’d shared with Jamie. They had talked for an hour or so after the heats; then it was time for him to go to work. He never should have taken the time off. Work would have been a lot more tolerable not knowing the thrills being experienced at the various playing fields. He suspected that his excitement with the games had more to do with Jamie and being next to her than with the actual sports. He loved to watch the competitions, but he loved the feel of her in his arms even more.
He closed his eyes, removed his apron, and replaced it with his wool coat.
“Good night, Dameon,” Mr. Dasche
l called out.
“Good night and thank you.”
“You’re welcome. See you in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chill of the night air woke him up. He raised his collar over his neck and pushed his hands deep in his pockets. A car horn honked.
“Jamie?”
She leaned out the window and waved. “Going my way?”
Dameon looked around before proceeding toward her. “How long have you been waiting? You should be in bed.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. Jamie slid over to the passenger seat. “You can drive.”
“Are you nervous?” he asked, slipping into the driver’s seat.
“A little. I’ll get over it.”
“I’m confident you will.” Dameon paused for a moment behind the wheel. He turned toward her. “I’ve missed you.”
A sigh of relief escaped her perfect lips. “I’ve missed you, too.” She slid over a bit closer. “Dameon, I crave spending time with you. I don’t understand it. I mean, it’s not a bad thing that I want to be with you. It’s just that, well, this has never happened to me before. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Dameon held the steering wheel rather than pull the precious woman into his arms. “I know exactly how you feel. But we have to be careful. We don’t really know one another yet.”
“I know. Is it possible to fall in …?”
Love, he wanted to finish the sentence for her but knew it was wiser not to.
“I mean …” She paused. “Oh, I don’t know what I mean. Do you?”
He knew exactly what she meant. He’d been going over the same thoughts all night. “I’ll stop working twelve hours a day and work only eight. We should be able to spend some time with one another then. How’s that sound?”
“Better, but …” She clasped her hands over her mouth.
But she wanted to spend all her time with him. Just as he wanted to spend all his time with her. How could they know one another so well and not know one another at all?
“We’d better get home. I promised your parents.”
The Timeless Love Romance Collection Page 37