Another Dawn

by Sandra Brown

  "Stop that!"

  "It's hurting my head and I like to feel the wind blowing through it. Not that it's any of your business."

  Jake made a grunting sound and kept his eyes trained on the rump of the horse pulling the wagon. "Well, be still. You might fall off the wagon and break your neck."

  Banner was fuming. She was restless and couldn't sit still. Like a kettle about to come to a boil, she seethed. She was virtually bristling with pent-up anger. As a kid, she had butted her head into Lee's stomach to start a brawl when she was furious with him. That's the way she felt now. She was spoiling for a fight and would seize any excuse Jake gave her to have one.

  But he did nothing but drive the wagon and smoke that damned cheroot. No doubt his thoughts were concentrated on that little snot Dora Lee. Banner couldn't dismiss from her mind their images as they strolled back into the thick of the party.

  Dora Lee had cast a gloating, telling glance toward her. Jake had whispered something to Lee and Micah that caused them to laugh. No doubt he had said something thoroughly revolting and indecent. Banner had wanted to slap them all as hard as she could.

  Instead she had danced and laughed, pretending to have the time of her life, when in fact she had never been so angry and miserable. Every time her mind conjured up a picture of Jake kissing Dora Lee the way he had her, darts poisoned with jealousy speared through her. It oozed through her system, making her soul black and oily with it.

  Even before Jake had returned for her wedding, she had been jealous of the time he spent with other people. Now her feelings of possessiveness had doubled. The jealousy was unreasonable, but she couldn't help feeling it.

  "Did you enjoy the party?" she asked crisply. If she didn't break the tense silence, she would crack in two like a walnut shell.

  "Uh-huh," he answered laconically, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

  "Of course you did. I could tell you were having a good time by the way you strutted around in front of all the ladies." Banner tossed her head back. She arched her throat to look at the stars overhead and give an appearance of nonchalance. "I had a delightful time. I love to dance. My feet will probably be sore tomorrow, I danced so much." She wanted to remind him that she hadn't lacked plenty of partners.

  "You can soak them if they are."

  "I will." Damn that cool tone of his! "I suppose Dora Lee will have to soak hers too."

  "You reckon?"

  Banner laughed mirthlessly, a short, huffing laugh that barely said "Ha!" with a lot of force behind it. "She doesn't care who she danced with as long as he's male."

  " 'S that a fact?" He rolled the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other without using his hands. Banner had a good mind to jerk it out of his mouth and send it the way of the hairpins, but she didn't quite dare.

  "Everybody in town knows her reputation with men."

  "Hmm," Jake said musingly, "I thought she was kinda cute."

  "Cute! I'll just bet you did."

  "I did."

  "Aren't you sorry you had to bring me home? I'm sure you'd much rather be escorting Dora Lee to her house."

  He said nothing, only shrugged in a manner that fueled Banner's temper. "I saw you two sneaking off together. Is her trampy reputation well earned?" She didn't give him room to answer. "I'm sure it is. I saw the simpering, stupid expression on her face when you came back. Shameful." She shook her head and shuddered.

  "I suppose you kissed her. And no telling what else. Did you touch her too? I've heard she lets... well, I can't even bring myself to say it." She tossed her head again. "She's so obscenely chesty. And so proud of it. Hmph! All her bosom is baby fat that never went away. I guess you were impressed with her figure. Did she show it off for you?"

  Jake inhaled on his cigar, let the smoke slowly curl out of his mouth, then tossed the cheroot into the river as the wagon rolled over the bridge. "I never kiss and tell, Banner." He turned his head and pierced her with his light blue eyes. "And you, especially, should be glad I don't."

  If he had slapped her, she couldn't have been more stunned. Or offended. Or hurt. She stared back at him blankly. The vituperative chatter ceased abruptly. She couldn't even draw a breath. All the air had been sucked from her body. And with it had gone her fighting spirit. She whipped her head around, unable to look at him any longer.

  Jake cursed silently. He had been in a fit of jealous rage too. But he had sensed Banner's mood immediately. And since the wagon would have likely ignited if they'd both lost their tempers, he had squelched his own and given her room. He hated himself for what he was having to do. He was being cruel to be kind.

  But maybe he was being too cruel. Maybe he should put his arm around her and apologize. Maybe if he just held her...

  No, Jake, he told himself. If you put your arm around her, all your good intentions will be shot to hell.

  Her hair was too dark and seductive in the night. He had liked the feel of it against his face too much. Her scent was becoming something he missed when she wasn't around. She looked too delectable in that dress. Her breasts, swelling from the bodice, were too tempting with the moonlight, silvery and soft, spilling over them.

  He tried telling himself that the tender spots forming on his heart for her were those of an uncle for his niece. But that argument was no good. He was experiencing about the most unhealthy feelings for a niece that an uncle could have. Add incest to his sins.

  No, Jake. Don't touch her. You've acted the fool more than once and both of you are paying for those lapses in judgment now. Don't act the fool again.

  When he pulled the wagon into the yard, she almost fell out of it in her haste to get away from him. It broke his heart to watch her marching proudly toward her front door, head high, back straight, when he knew she was humiliated beyond endurance. He couldn't let her leave him without saying something.

  "Banner."

  She stopped. Her head fell forward for a heartbeat, then snapped up before she turned around and faced him defiantly. "Yes?"

  "I shouldn't have said that."

  "But it's true, isn't it?"

  His eyes skittered from one object to another to keep from looking at her, to keep from feeling her suffering and knowing that in order to be safe, he couldn't do anything to alleviate it. But he could postpone saying good night. "Ross told me about a cattle broker in Fort Worth. He thinks this man could put together a small herd for us at a fair price, What do you think?"

  She didn't want to talk about cattle. She wanted to ask why he was being so hateful to her. Did he hate her? Did he hold her in contempt for what she had done with him? Did he ridicule her clumsy attempts to lure him back and into marriage?

  "Whatever you think, Jake. You're my foreman."

  "Yeah, well," he said awkwardly, fingering the leather reins in his fingers. "I guess I ought to to go Fort Worth soon and see him."

  "If you think that's best."

  He nodded. "Well, good night," Please, Banner, don't look at me like that. I want to hold you, but I can't.

  "Good night." Jake, why are you punishing me for a sin that belonged to both of us? Don't hate me for it.

  "Lock up good now, hear?" I remember how sweet you were, Banner, and I want you again. But I can't, I can't...

  "I will. Good night." You were so sweet to me that night, so tender and caring. Why are you being so mean to me now?

  She went into the dark house alone and closed the door behind her. He waited until he saw the lamp's glow in her bedroom before he pulled the wagon into the barn.

  * * *

  "Oh, my Lord."

  The three logs of firewood rolled from Banner's arms and thudded to the ground. One hand flew to her lips to trap a small scream. The other flattened over her lurching stomach. "What are you doing here?"

  Grady Sheldon stepped out of the shade on the porch and took a hesitant step toward her. "How are you, Banner?" he asked humbly.

  Banner recovered from her shock at seeing him, though it had been alarming. Jake and t
he cowboys were working far beyond the house, clearing a pasture of post oaks and scrub brush. She was alone at the house and had just gone to the woodpile on the far side of the bam. It would have startled her to see any man waiting on her porch, much less this one.

  But now that her initial fear had subsided, she was consumed with fury at his gall. She bent down to retrieve the logs. When she straightened, her eyes drilled through him as though he wasn't there. "I'll tell you how I am, Grady. I'm amazed you have the nerve to face me. And if you aren't gone in ten seconds, I'll shoot you."

  She stalked past him, making her way to the front door. But he caught her arm and forced her to a halt. "Banner, please. I need to talk to you."

  "Well, I don't need to talk to you. Now let go of me and get away from here. Don't come back."

  "You heard about my... my wife?"

  She dropped the wood on the porch and faced him squarely. The fire that had killed Wanda and Doggie Burns had been the big news in town the day after the party. Jake had told her about it when he returned after a trip into Larsen. That had been two weeks ago.

  "I was sorry to hear about that, Grady. Her death was tragic, but it has nothing to do with me."

  "It does, Banner," he said anxiously. "I want to talk to you, explain things. I never got a chance to explain. That's not fair, is it?"

  "What you did wasn't fair either, Grady. Excuse me now. I have to get dinner started." She went through the door and turned to close it. Before she did, she said, "I don't want to see you anymore. Don't come back."

  He had reined his horse on the other side of the corral. That's why she hadn't noticed it as she crossed the yard. Now she watched from the parlor window as he rode out of sight. Only then did she realize that she was trembling. Wiping her damp hands on her pants legs, she went into the kitchen to prepare supper.

  She decided not to mention Grady's visit to Jake. It would only make him angry. They had been civil to each other since the night of the party, civil and constrained. She hadn't stuck to her vow to feed him from a tray left on the porch, but as soon as he finished eating each night, he rode into town. She didn't want to think about where he went. To the saloon? To see Dora Lee? She never fell asleep until he returned.

  They were at least coexisting peacefully. Grady's appearance wasn't worth sparking Jake's ire, and there was no reason to tell him. She was certain Grady wouldn't have the gumption to come back.

  But he did. The next day, in fact. At about the same time. She wondered later if he had planned his visit when he knew she would be alone while the men were working away from the house. This time, he knocked on the back door. He was holding out a bouquet of flowers when she opened it.

  She stared at the flowers, but didn't reach for them. "I told you not to come back."

  "May I come in?"

  "No. Go away, Grady. I thought I made it plain to you—"

  "Please, Banner. Please."

  She eyed him closely. He had changed. His face no longer looked boyishly handsome, squeaky clean, open and honest. There was a weariness about his mouth and eyes that she had never seen before. He looked haggard. The changes were subtle, but obvious nonetheless.

  Pity tugged at her heart. Had he suffered as much as she? Impossible. Men came away from these scandals unaffected. Lydia had said so.

  It might have been pity, or it might have been a determination that she appear unafraid of him that compelled her to let him inside. Timidly he stepped over the threshold. She didn't offer him a chair. He awkwardly held the flowers, then leaned forward and laid them on the table.

  "Banner, I know you must hate me."

  "I don't hate you. I have no feelings for you one way or another. Whatever emotion I felt for you died the instant I knew you had been unfaithful to me."

  He stared down at his shoes. Damn her. He hated playing a meek and mild toady, coming to her like some penitent. For a little of nothing he would tell all the Colemans to take the next train straight to hell. But he might need them later on. The last two weeks had been the worst of his life.

  First he had had to pretend shock, if not anguish, over the fire that had destroyed the Burns place and taken the lives of his wife and father-in-law. Then there was the ordeal of the inquest. It had turned out just as he had hoped it would. The fire and deaths were ruled accidental, but he hadn't liked the sidelong glances the sheriff and everybody else in town gave him.

  He needed an alliance with the high and mighty Colemans. If he were reinstated with them the town would accept him again. His business was still sound and prospering because his was the only timber mill and lumberyard around, but people no longer treated him with respect. He could read the disdain in their eyes.

  And, dammit, he wanted all those acres of timberland that Banner Coleman now owned. To get that, he had to eat humble pie in front of her. He had to appear a broken man. Women loved to be in a position to forgive a man something. They couldn't resist having that superiority over him. Banner wouldn't be the exception. He would bet on that.

  "Banner, what happened in the church was ghastly. I hated it for you more than for me because I knew what you must be going through, what you were thinking about me."

  "You embarrassed me and my family in front of the whole county."

  "I know."

  "That isn't something I'll likely forgive and forget any time soon, Grady."

  "But I hope you will in time," he said earnestly. "After I've had a chance to explain about Wanda."

  "I don't want explanations. Just say goodbye and leave."

  "Please, Banner. Please listen to me." He wet his lips and took an anxious step forward, his hands extended suppliantly. "I felt terrible about the way she died, and the baby and all. But... but I feel like someone who had been sentenced to life imprisonment and just got released. Surely you must know that a girl like Wanda meant nothing to me."

  "You made love with her!" she cried.

  He hung his head. "I know, I know. Believe me, I've regretted it with every breath I've drawn since then. I was with her just one time, Banner. I swear that. Only one time," he lied. "And it's not like... well, it's not 'making love' with a girl like that. It's something else altogether. I don't think I was that baby's father—I pray to God I wasn't—but there was no way to prove it."

  "None of that matters. The point is you betrayed me and the love you claimed to have for me."

  "I know it's hard for you, as a woman, as a lady, to understand that kind of passion." His eyes were still downcast so he didn't see Banner suddenly pale. "It just happens that way sometimes, Banner. Before you know what's happened, you've done something to regret."

  When he risked raising his head to gauge the effect of his confession, she was no longer looking at him, but staring out the window over the sink.

  "It happened so fast," he rushed on, taking her silence for pensiveness. "I went out there to buy some whiskey. She was alone. She... she... well, you can imagine how immodest she was. I had just been with you. I wanted you so badly. And when Wanda... well... I pretended for just a few minutes that it was you I was kissing. Only she wouldn't stop, Banner. She kept on and on, touching me. I shouldn't be talking to you about such things, I know. But she touched me, in private places, you know, and said things to me that—"

  "Please," Banner whispered, gripping the rim of the drainboard so hard her fingers ached. "Stop."

  Like a taunting litany, she could hear herself begging Jake to take her. She had pleaded, cajoled, connived, using every argument she could think of, even going so far as to remind him of his love for her mother. Scalding tears blinded her. Lord, no wonder he held her in such contempt. Just as Grady did his whore.

  "You would have to be a man to understand, Banner. But when it gets past a certain point, there's no going back. A man loses control. I hated myself afterward, couldn't believe I had done it. I swear I didn't touch her or another woman after that, I wanted only you. I love you."

  She wiped at her tears and Grady's spirits lifted
, thinking they were for him. When she turned to him she asked, "What do you want from me? Why did you come here?"

  "I want you back. I want us to be married."

  "That's impossible."

  He shook his head stubbornly. "No, it isn't. Not if you forgive me. Banner, I appeal to you. I made one mistake. One unfortunate mistake. It came at the worst possible time in my life. Please don't make me pay for it forever. Say you'll think about taking me back. I can't live without you. I love you so much."

  She marveled over how empty the words sounded. Only weeks ago she had thought she loved him as he professed to love her. But had she loved him? What did she feel now? Only sadness for him. But love? More and more she was coming to believe that the word was meaningless. It was applied to a variety of emotions for lack of any other word so encompassing.

  Who was she to judge Grady for his fall from grace when hers had been just as hard and just as far? He had betrayed her love, yes, but hadn't she betrayed those who loved her? Her parents? Ma and Lee and Micah? Jake himself?

  Jake. She was in love with him. There, she admitted it.

  She had loved him all her life and it had been a happy, bubbling feeling inside'her that welled to the surface and overflowed every time she saw him. It had been a wholesome love, one she could openly express.

  But this love, this love was different. It had brought her nothing but misery. It was swathed in secrecy. It couldnt be celebrated. It couldn't be.

  Grady offered her a safe way out. If she married him she would live, if not happily, then at least contentedly. She would be free of this strife that made her want to tear her heart out to keep it from breaking. But she had reservations about Grady's proposal. He wasn't the same dapper young man, sure of himself and his future. The stigma of his indiscretion would haunt him for a long time. His apologies seemed sincere enough, but could she ever trust him again?

  As though reading her mind, he said, "I know you might not believe me. But everything I've said is true, Banner. I adore you. You're all I've ever wanted."

  She wondered if he would be quite so ready to claim her as his bride if he knew she was no longer a virgin. If Grady had changed, she had changed more. The bright and bouncy Banner Coleman he had first proposed to no longer existed.