Hot Southern Nights
Page 16
"You knew your wife was ill," Sam said. "Why didn't you do something about it?"
Judson's faint smile held a lifetime of sadness. "A man will put up with a great deal for the woman he loves."
"Up to a point," Sam said, looking at Brett. "You don't let her get into situations where she's going to get into trouble or hurt herself."
Before Brett could respond, they all heard a police siren scream to a halt in front of the store. Darren went to the doorway and beckoned the officers into the back room.
Brett succinctly told them the situation while Kathryn raged at her, Sam, the policemen. Judson confirmed what Brett said. The two policemen couldn't hide their astonishment at hearing the prominent Fredericksburg lawyer confess to being an accomplice after the fact to murder. Although Kathryn continued struggling, Judson went along with the policemen willingly.
A feeling of anticlimax hung over the back room after the officers left with the Quills. Brett sighed and leaned against the worktable.
"I guess it's over," she said.
"Not quite," Sam said. He grabbed her hand and started walking toward the door of the workroom. "Darren, I'm taking your car. Can you find your way back to Maddox Hill?"
"Sure. Where are you going?"
"To the battlefield. It seems appropriate."
ELEVEN
Driving Darren's rental car, Sam took Lee Drive, which stretched through the Fredericksburg battlefield. They passed a pair of energetic people pedaling their bicycles, and Sam kept driving until he came to an area where he could safely pull off the road without blocking it.
He shut off the engine. Brett remained where she was until Sam walked around the front of the car and opened her door.
She looked up at him. Puzzled by their destination, she said, "I've seen the battlefield."
He reached down and clasped her wrist. "Not with me."
That was true enough, she mused, but then there were a lot of things she hadn't done with him. Silly things like opening up Christmas presents together, or taking care of him when he had the flu, or seeing one of his documentaries with him.
Because he was stronger than she was and she didn't have the energy for a tug-of-war, she got out of the car. About ten feet away from them she could see a long grass-covered mound of raised earth, which was the overgrown remains of a trench dug during the war.
She needed more of a defense than a trench to hide in to ward off the pain that would come with the end of their affair, she thought wearily. She looked around at the nearby trees. The only sound was leaves brushing against one another over their heads.
"Leave it to a director to set up the scene with the right backdrop," she mused aloud. "Privacy for the showdown. No fragile objects that can be thrown and broken. A helluva walk back to town if I don't feel like hearing what you're about to say. The only thing missing is soft music in the background. Or do you have a trumpet player in the woods ready to play taps?"
Sam shook his head. "You're reading the wrong script, Red. This isn't a farewell scene."
"If you have seduction in mind, I had better remind you of the intrepid bikers we passed a few minutes ago. They might not be the romantic sort and might report us. The publicity wouldn't hurt you any, but I wouldn't care for it."
Sam leaned back against the trunk of a tree and watched her with that intensity she'd never quite gotten used to. "What do you care about?"
"I care that you're leaving soon and there's nothing I can do about it."
"Maybe there is."
"Before this morning and your little talk with Darren about flitting off to Boston, I might have thought so. I might have thought something silly, like we had something special between us that would make it impossible for either one of us to leave the other."
He didn't agree or disagree, which was really irritating.
When he continued to watch her without saying anything, Brett felt her bravado slipping away, leaving her defenseless and vulnerable. She wanted a clean break, executed quickly and efficiently, not drawn out painfully until she felt cut in two by a dull blade.
"Are you through?" he asked.
She nodded, afraid if she said anything, it would come out in a sob.
"Good." He pushed away from the tree and approached her. "Now it's my turn, so kindly be quiet until I'm finished." He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I don't want to leave you, Red. I'm afraid that if I do, I would end up crawling back on my hands and knees to beg you to take me back."
She wasn't sure what he was saying, but a glint of hope sparked through her sadness. "I knew going into this affair, Sam, that you would be leaving after your film was done." She swallowed back a little sob and added bravely, "I would like us to part friends at least, if that's possible."
He shook his head, and her hope died, her heart sank.
She dropped her gaze to the front of his shirt, unable to continue the charade of being a good sport.
When she heard him chuckle, she lifted her lashes and glared at him, making him laugh all the harder. "I'm glad I found out now about your sick sense of humor," she snapped. "How can you laugh at me when—" Her voice broke and she bit her lip.
"When what?" he asked softly. "Finish what you were going to say, Red."
Taking a deep breath, she said, "I don't think it's funny that I love you, and you won't even let us be friends when you leave."
Satisfaction flared in his eyes. His arms swept around her and he pulled her into his embrace. He buried his face in her throat and sighed heavily, as though he'd been on a long march and had finally made it home.
When he raised his head and met her gaze, Brett was astounded to see a hint of moisture in his doe-brown eyes.
"Sam?"
"We can't part friends because we can't part, Brett," he said simply. "When I have to leave, I want you to be with me. We'll have to talk about where we're going to live, whether you want to sell your business or I move the production company to the East Coast. We can discuss all of that stuff later after you've agreed to marry me."
"Marry you? Me? You? Marry?" She said the words as though they were foreign to her tongue. Not only did she have trouble saying them, she was having an even bigger difficulty understanding what they meant.
"Don't give me the song-and-dance about we haven't known each other very long," he said. "I knew when I saw you stomp across that street in Old Town carrying the baby basket that you were going to be trouble, and I was right. I found myself wanting to see you, to see your eyes snap when you argued with me. To touch you. Lord, I wanted to touch you," he said with feeling. "Couldn't you tell when we made love how much I needed you? I nearly went up in flames every time we came together. That should have given you a hint as to how you affected me."
Brett felt her cheeks grow warm with a blush. "I just thought you were good in bed."
He chuckled. "It takes two, Red. Are you going to answer my question or do you have to think about it?"
She frowned, puzzled. "What question?"
"About marrying me."
"You never asked me. You told me in the same sort of tone you would use if you suggested we have soup rather than salad. You've obviously never directed a romance. That's not the way it's done."
He inclined his head and studied her for a few seconds. "I'm never too old to learn. Perhaps if you gave me some idea of how it's done, I can improve my performance."
Brett heard the sound of tires on the road as the bikers came around the curve. She took Sam's hand and drew him between several trees. A canopy of leaves overhead shadowed the spot where they were standing. With the moon rising over the horizon, it seemed as though they were the only two people in the world once the bikers disappeared from sight.
Facing him, she touched his face with her hands. "The sun seems brighter, the air seems clearer, the whole world is happier when I'm with you. I could go on breathing, working, living if you weren't in my life, but I wouldn't find any joy in any of those things without you. I
love your arrogance, your humor, your touch, your smile. I love you. I want to take your name as a sign I trust you with my heart for the rest of my life. I want to marry you."
Sam's voice sounded oddly strangled as he sighed her name and put his arms around her as though she was made of fine crystal. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her deeply for a very long time.
When he felt able to speak without making a fool of himself by blubbering, he touched her face as she had his and said, "I never understood how the Duke of Windsor could have given up his throne because of love until I met you. I was like those hidden passages in your house. You were the only one who knew how to unlock the secret recesses of my heart. Everything I thought was vital to my happiness is nothing compared to the joy I feel when you smile at me. I need you to marry me and live with me and love me for the rest of our lives."
Tears of happiness welled up in her eyes. "Okay," she said.
Sam laughed and lifted her up in his arms to twirl her around and around. The leaves rustled under his feet, and the wind blew the leaves on the branches over their heads.
But all they saw was each other and the glorious future spreading out in front of them.
Table of Contents
AUTHOR'S NOTE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN