The Timeless Love Romance Collection

by Dianne Christner

  “Dameon.” She reached for his arm. He pulled it away. “I’m sorry. I don’t want it this way but …” Tears that had been threatening to fall now poured down her face.

  “Go home, Jamie. It’ll be all right.” The words he spoke were not in his heart. They were contrary to everything he felt and everything he wanted to do. What he wanted was to wrap her in his arms and hold her until all the fears went away. What he should do was let her leave and end their relationship before it truly began. She was right: They did come from different worlds, and neither one of them would be happy in the other’s. He should have known better. She was forbidden fruit, and he shouldn’t have been tempted by it. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled.

  “I’m sorry, too.” His voice cracked.

  For a moment, he watched her leave. She was hurting, and it was probably all his fault. I should have known better.

  Back inside the kitchen, he worked and worked and worked. He couldn’t stop; he wouldn’t stop until the very last dish in the place was done.

  “Good night, Mr. Daschel. I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  “Are you all right, son?”

  “Fine. Thanks for all the work; it really helped me.”

  “If you really want to help, you’ll stay. As you know, I’ve been having trouble keeping dishwashers who don’t get caught up in the games.”

  “I’d love to help. But it’s time for me to head back home.”

  Mr. Daschel extended his hand, and Dameon shook it. “Thanks again for all the help.”

  Dameon put on his winter coat and left with Mr. Daschel, who locked up behind him. The snow was blowing, and the wind howled as he trekked back to the Prestons’ farmhouse. “Perfect.” He stomped back to the farm with his collar turned upward and his hands stuffed under his armpits for extra warmth.

  A horn blared behind him.

  Jamie cried herself to sleep, sequestered in her room, refusing to speak with her parents. She pleaded with God to allow her to have peace over the decision she had made. But no peace came, only more confusion. She didn’t want to dishonor God, but how could she love a man as much as she loved Dameon and not dishonor God?

  “Jamie, open this door.” The tone of her mother’s voice meant she’d better obey or she’d be seeing the door open anyway.

  She wiped her eyes and opened the door, keeping her head bent so her long bangs would cover her eyes. “Good morning, Mom. What’s the matter?”

  “Jamie Elizabeth Preston, don’t you dare try and hide this from me. Now, fess up and tell me what’s happened. Has he done anything—?”

  “No, Mom, nothing like that. I’m sorry. No. Dameon was a perfect gentleman.”

  Her mother squared her shoulders and walked into the room with the regal elegance she always carried, then sat down on Jamie’s bed. “Come here and tell me what’s going on.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Jamie.” She crossed her arms.

  “Oh, all right, but you won’t like it.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Jamie took in a deep breath. “After our talk the other night, and after Dameon and I shared a very … a … a passionate kiss …” Jamie felt her cheeks burn. “I realized that I wasn’t being a good and godly witness. I wanted Dameon more than I wanted to be right with God.”

  “I see. So, what did you decide?”

  “I broke up with him. It’s the only way. I love him so much, Mom, yet I can’t be a good Christian and have these desires.”

  Her mother smiled and cupped Jamie’s face with her hands. “Honey, God gives us our desires. You can control them.”

  Jamie spent the next hour talking with her mother about how God’s love gift works, what happens when sin takes over, how to balance her love for a man with her love for God, and how to keep her priorities straight.

  “I didn’t have to break up with Dameon?”

  “I don’t believe you had to. I think you overreacted. But you said something else that makes me wonder if it’s more than your physical desires that are a problem. You mentioned the issue of social class. I know I brought it up as something to think about, but you do know that I would not say you had to marry a man within your social class, right?”

  “But?”

  “I was saying, be aware of the differences. There will be issues that will arise between you. You’ll have to accept living within his means. And he can’t be threatened by our wealth or, currently, our lack thereof.” Her mother smiled.

  “I jumped in and overreacted again, huh?”

  Her mom nodded and asked, “Where is Dameon?”

  “I don’t know. Didn’t he return last night?”

  “His belongings are gone. He left a note thanking your father and me, but …”

  Jamie interrupted. “Oh no. Where did he sleep?”

  “I don’t know, but there’s another problem. The silver is missing.”

  “Thanks for the ride.” Dameon waved off Joey Thompson as the man drove away. They had traveled through the night and arrived in Albany, New York, in time for breakfast. Joey’s heading south was a gift. The ride took days off Dameon’s trip back home. Unfortunately, Joey was heading west from Albany and Dameon was heading east. If he could hitch a ride with someone else heading east on the highway, he could make it home in a couple of days, unlike his trip to Lake Placid, when he’d walked most of the way.

  His pocket full of his hard-earned cash and his belly full, he asked some of the truck drivers if they were heading east.

  “Excuse me, are you Dameon Grant?” a police officer asked.

  “Yes, sir.” Why would a police officer be looking for me?

  “Would you come with me, sir?” The police officer escorted him out of the diner, leading him by the elbow. Outside the man asked, “May I look in your pack?”

  “Sure.” Dameon took off his pack. “What seems to be the matter, Officer?”

  “There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve been accused of stealing.”

  “That’s absurd. Who would make such a claim?”

  “It’s not my place to say.” The officer rifled through his pack, then placed him under arrest. Placing handcuffs on Dameon, the officer escorted him to the rear seat of his police car.

  Hours later, Dameon was sitting in a cell, crying out to God for some understanding of what had happened. Obviously, from the line of questions he’d been asked, someone had stolen something from the Preston home. The police had seized his money and were asking him where he’d sold the stolen silver. Silver. What silver?

  He didn’t recall seeing any—not that he had looked for any. He fought his anger, his frustration, and his desires. He loved Jamie, and now her family thought him capable of stealing, and after all he’d done to help that family. Dameon couldn’t believe it. He bounced his foot up and down out of nervous frustration. Lord, You know I’m innocent of these charges. Please help me.

  The metal door between the holding cells and the sheriff’s office creaked open. “Someone’s here to talk with you, Grant,” a voice bellowed.

  He looked up and saw Jamie walk through the doorway. He squeezed his eyes shut. The woman he loved was seeing him behind bars, a woman whose social class would never allow her to love him for who he was and not what his wallet produced.

  “Dameon.” Jamie’s voice quivered. “They’ve asked me to ask you where you sold the silver.”

  Anger reared its ugly head. Dameon jumped up. “You believe that? After all we’ve been through, you believe I’d steal from your family? I can’t believe your father would even think it. But here I sit behind bars.” Dameon paced. “I can’t believe you Prestons. Your holier-than-thou approach to life is unbelievable. If I didn’t know better, I’d say your family is as poor as mine. Why I even bothered to help out you and your family is beyond me.”

  “Honey,” Jamie whispered.

  Dameon stopped pacing. Her voice was so calming. Her love name for him s
ettled him instantly.

  “I don’t believe you stole from us. I’ve tried to tell my father that, but the police said you had a wad of cash in your pocket. Daddy’s pretty convinced.”

  Dameon walked up to the bars and reached out for Jamie. “I earned that money. You know it, and if your father would stop long enough to look at the truth and think, he’d know it, too. Doesn’t anyone use common sense in your family? How much could the silver have been worth—especially now? People are getting next to nothing for silver. I know. I sold off a tea set for Mother to help us try and make our balloon payment.”

  She took his hand and stepped closer. “I’m sorry, Dameon. I’m sorry about everything. I shouldn’t have broken up with you. It was foolishness, and well, my father has trouble believing people sometimes. I do believe you. I know you would never steal.”

  “Thank you, thank you for that. My sweet sweetheart, what are we going to do?” Dameon reached through the bars and pushed her long bangs from her eyes. “I love you. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be saying it, but I do. I can’t help it. I love you so much. I know this is rotten timing, and we’ll probably never be able to be together, but you have to know. I love you, and I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you or your family.”

  “I know.” She slipped her eyelids closed, then opened them slowly. Their chocolate beauty made a man crave to be near her sweetness. “I love you, too,” she confessed.

  He tried to kiss her between the bars. Their lips barely touched.

  “I’ll try and get Father to come in and talk with you. If he sees you, he’ll know without a doubt you couldn’t have done this.”

  He leaned his head against the bars, and she wrapped her hands around his. “Not yet, please. Oh, Jamie, what are we going to do?”

  Chapter 8

  Jamie kissed Dameon’s forehead. Somehow she had to convince her father to come and speak with him. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  “Wait, please, just one more moment.” Dameon held on to her hand and caressed the top of it with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be the man you need.”

  “Oh, you foolish man! Don’t you know you are the man I need?” She squeezed his hand. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  Jamie stood up straight and squared her shoulders. With determined steps, she left the holding cell area of the sheriff’s office and headed back to her parents.

  Her father jumped to his feet as she entered the room. “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t do it, Daddy. And I believe him.”

  “Humph.” He stomped back to his seat.

  Her mother reached out and patted her husband’s arm. “Why do you believe him, Jamie? The police claim he was carrying $175.”

  “But wasn’t he working hard for that money? Didn’t he work twelve hours and more a day?”

  “True, but what about the silver?”

  “He didn’t take it, Mom. And I believe him. Why do you assume he did? Couldn’t it have been stolen while he was at work? Didn’t Mr. Daschel say Dameon worked until midnight last night?” Jamie walked over to her parents and took one of the other chairs in the waiting room and lowered her voice. “And just how much value does silver have these days? Dameon said he sold a tea set for his mother and was paid only a very small sum. Isn’t it more reasonable that Dameon earned every penny he had in his pocket? And isn’t it odd that a man who spent an entire morning tracking down a radiator and replacing it in your car would only ask for the three dollars he paid for the part?”

  Jamie paused for a moment. “It doesn’t make sense, Dad, does it?”

  Henri Preston was a man Jamie always found to be fair—hard on people, perhaps at times, but fair—and always quick to agree when he was wrong, a trait she had inherited from him. He took in a deep sigh and let it out slowly. “I’ll go meet with the boy.”

  Slowly, her father exited the room. Jamie stayed seated next to her mother. As much as she wanted to be with Dameon, it was something the two men needed to work out.

  “Everything will be all right, dear.” Her mother patted her arm.

  “I hope so. I want Daddy to drop the charges. It’s ludicrous to think that Dameon would steal from us.”

  “I think you’re right. But isn’t it possible that he was angry enough that he felt entitled to the silver for the work he’d done around the place?”

  “I can’t believe you’d think that, Mom. He never asked for compensation. Look at all he did around the house unasked for. The wood he chopped, the work on the henhouse, gathering the eggs, repairing some small things here and there. No one asked him; he just did it. I don’t think he’s the kind of person who would steal.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m sorry for doubting him. It just happened so suddenly, and folks aren’t always rational when they are angry.”

  Jamie wanted to argue with her parents that they shouldn’t have doubted Dameon under any circumstances, but hadn’t she wondered herself? It did seem likely that he had stolen the silver and disappeared. What really seemed odd was how quickly he had made it down to Albany. The trip had taken several hours for them to arrive.

  Her thoughts were a muddle of confusion. How long would Dameon have to sit in jail?

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  Jamie glanced down at her hands, folding and unfolding them. “Do you think I could be a good farmer’s wife?”

  Spending the night in jail for something he hadn’t done—Dameon had never expected to live through that kind of humiliation. Henri Preston had dropped the charges but also impressed upon the police to keep Dameon overnight. This allowed Henri Preston to escape with his daughter back to Lake Placid.

  Four days later, Dameon found himself back home, and for the first time in his life, he felt out of place on the farm.

  A week after returning home while mucking out the cows’ stalls, Dameon realized that he had left Jamie without a fight. He should have returned to Lake Placid and worked things out with Jamie and her parents. But shoulda, coulda, woulda wouldn’t help now.

  Dameon slid a shovel against the wooden floorboards, scooping up the muck. Parts of the farmer’s life were not appealing, even after years of experience.

  The games were over now. Had the Prestons returned to Princeton, New Jersey? Should he try to find Jamie? He bent down and scooped another shovelful of muck and tossed it in the wheelbarrow.

  The sound of a car or truck pulling up in front of the house caught Dameon’s attention. He had closed the barn door upon entering. The end of February could bring some of the coldest weather in New England.

  He drew his attention back to his work. More than likely, it was someone to see his parents. Few people called on him since he had graduated from high school, and Dameon seldom found himself at the center of attention. He leaned down and positioned the shovel for another load.

  The large barn door creaked open. Dameon stood up. “Dameon, you have a visitor,” his father called out. He stood there with his winter coat wide open, grinning from ear to ear.

  Who could it be? Dameon wondered. Father certainly wouldn’t be grinning if it was the banker here to collect on the balloon payment. Dameon had raised enough to appease the creditors, or so he and his parents had been led to believe. His trip to the Olympics had paid off, but his heart was no longer with the farm. It was locked deep within Jamie. He stepped out of the stall, stomped the muck off his boots, took off his leather work gloves, and left them on the rail of the stall.

  “Dameon.”

  His back stiffened when he heard Jamie’s voice. He spun around to see if he was hearing things or if she truly was there. “Jamie.” His heart soared. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ll leave you young people be,” his father said, walking off to the house.

  Dameon saw the Prestons’ car in his yard. “Did you drive here by yourself?” His legs shook as he took a tentative step toward her.

  “No, my parents are with me.
I needed to see you.” She looked down at the ground.

  Dameon’s heart caught in his throat. A moment of ecstasy had vanished in less than a second. He’d hoped she’d come to be a part of his life. Of course, he had never asked her.

  “Jamie,” his voice quivered, “I’ve been trying to figure out if I should go to New Jersey and see if I could find you. I’ve missed you. I love you.”

  Jamie’s precious brown eyes puddled with tears.

  “Oh, my sweet sweetheart, come here.” He wrapped her in his protective grasp. “Please, tell me you love me and want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

  She shook in his arms. “I’ve been terrified,” she confessed. “My parents didn’t know what to do with me. Daddy doesn’t like to see his little girl hurt, and when he refused to let me see you again in Albany, I sulked. I sulked for days.”

  Dameon chuckled. “I was tempted to go back to Lake Placid, but my parents were counting on me. And the police helped me find a ride heading east.”

  “Dameon, there’s something you must know. Father’s been hit terribly by the Depression. We’ve little in liquid assets. We’re heading for Greece in a couple of weeks.”

  He held her tighter. “No, please don’t go. Stay. Please stay with me.”

  Jamie smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that. I can’t imagine being a farmer’s wife. I don’t know the first thing about it. But I’m willing to learn if you can be patient with me. I’ll need a lot of patience. I’ve been trained for social gatherings. I know how to entertain royalty, but I don’t know the first thing about milking a cow.”

  “It’s like opening ceremonies. It takes a little practice, but once you have the art down, it produces tremendous joy for many.”

  Jamie cocked her head to the right. “I seriously doubt that, but I’m willing to learn.”

  “And you’ll have to teach me as well. I have no idea what it would be like to entertain royalty. I’d be the proverbial bull in a china shop.”