by Sandra Kitt
“Well, Lavona can’t do much of anything on her own but look pretty. Anything she’s involved with usually requires the aid of a good-looking man. It’s a pretty convincing helpless act.”
Eva was acutely uncomfortable with the conversation, not believing that Adam was taken in by Lavona’s act when she had so much else going for her. But she was also now uncertain herself that she meant anything more to Adam than Lavona did.
“I also told Adam you seemed pretty independent and capable to me…” Milly continued as she opened the door for Eva.
“What did he say to that?”
Milly laughed suddenly, shaking her head in memory. “Oh…he said something totally unrepeatable!”
Chapter Nine
It kept running through Eva’s mind that Lavona Morris had said that Adam Maxwell wanted only one thing from her. Well, he’d gotten that. And there hadn’t been much indication that there was to be anything more. If Lavona was also to be believed, Adam didn’t want anything more.
There was no positive indication that Adam had given up Lavona in favor of her, but Eva knew that Adam was the kind of man who could have anyone, almost anytime he pleased. What if he was seeing them both?
These and other complicated scenarios continued to play out their dramas in Eva’s mind the whole week Adam Maxwell was away. Eva alternately convinced herself she was a fool or that she was handling the situation well, from one day to the next. For one whole day she thought not of Adam at all. But then at night she tossed and turned, her nighttime fears and imaginings her own worst enemy. One day she sat on the beach watching every sailing vessel that anchored offshore, thinking each one was Adam returning early. And the next day she stayed away from the beach altogether. One moment she resolved to keep Adam at arm’s length until she could safely get back on a plane headed for home. In the next moment she’d have feverish, breathless memories of her body reacting spontaneously and coming to life instinctively under his, of Adam’s hands and mouth stroking and manipulating erotically in ways she never even dreamed of with Kevin.
Eva buried herself in reading, finishing five paperback books in four days. At night she crocheted, without a pattern or purpose, and the finished product was just something lacy, large, and round. She pulled a ribbon through the outer edges and made a drawstring purse. It was much too young for herself, so she lined it with a white linen handkerchief and mailed it to Diane.
She wrote a letter to her mother and was suddenly lonely. She got a postcard from Martin Isaacs, her boss, and wished his house could be hers forever.
She didn’t go into St. Thomas again, but Deacon Butler did return once more to St. John. Eva was just stepping out of the pink postal building after mailing Diane’s package. It was nine days since the beginning of Adam’s trip, and her mind was temporarily free of him. Eva heard a lilting island voice behind her calling a welcome, which she ignored.
“Hey! Hey, beautiful lady. You not going to say hello?”
Eva never turned her head.
“Hey…Eva!” A rough hand grabbed her arm, and she turned to face the ever-smiling Deacon Butler. For an instant Eva had a vague image of a scowling, disapproving Adam Maxwell looming in the background. She smiled brightly at Deacon.
“Oh, hello! What are you doing here?”
He laughed, his ebony face wrapped in smiles.
“Don’t you know, man? I come see you! You change your mind yet about staying?” Deacon asked without preamble.
“No, I haven’t,” Eva admitted ruefully.
“Then I have to try harder, yes?” Deacon said, undaunted. He steered her toward the harbor, hooking Eva’s arm around his own.
“How were you going to find me? What if I’d left already?” Eva questioned in curiosity.
Deacon laughed. “Oh I know you still here. I ask my friends here. This is a small island…everybody know everybody.”
Eva groaned inwardly. As far as she was concerned, the island was getting smaller all the time.
They walked toward the attractive maze of shops and restaurants in Mongoose Junction and headed for the Moveable Feast, an airy, casual café with seating for brunch, lunch, and dinner, and with a square low bar in the middle of the room. Eva easily let herself be persuaded to have lunch with Deacon, feeling she needed an ego boost and a little easy company. They sat at a roomy square table and placed their orders.
“So…how you like Carnival, eh?” Deacon asked, leaning across the table at Eva.
“Oh, it was fun! Everything was so colorful. I took lots of pictures.”
“Good…good.”
“Were you there? I didn’t see you,” Eva asked.
“No, I had to work that day. Anyway, everyone all the time say best Carnival on St. Thomas in the spring.”
“Well, I wasn’t here in the spring, so for me this one was just great.”
Deacon smiled and nodded at her. Then his brows drew together in an uncharacteristic frown, even though his mouth continued to curve in a smile. He tilted his head to one side to look thoughtfully at Eva.
“How come a pretty lady like you is not married?”
Eva went still for a moment, her heart turning over with a flashing memory. She shifted in her chair and sat back against the comfortable canvas. “I—I was married,” she finally said calmly, her fingernail tracing an old watermark from a glass on the black leather top of the table.
“What happen?” Deacon persisted. “You divorced…separated?”
Eva smiled vaguely at the only two possibilities Deacon recognized. “No…my husband is dead. He died in a house fire.”
There was a curious pause, and Eva looked up at Deacon, at the sudden understanding and depth of sympathy in his eyes that he did not voice. She didn’t wait for him to ask the next obvious question that was forming.
“We had a little girl. I lost her, too,” she informed him quietly, a little surprised at how calmly she could now say it.
Deacon silently shook his head, his eyes lowered to the table. That was his total expression, and after that, he let the subject drop. He looked at her once again. “You like it here?”
“I love it here,” Eva emphasized. “But I am going back home,” she also added very clearly, so that her meaning could not be mistaken.
“When you coming back?” Deacon asked.
“I don’t know…it depends,” Eva answered with a shrug.
“On what?”
What indeed. Eva hadn’t worked out a plan or details. It just depended. She must have had something in mind when she said that. She blinked rapidly and frowned at Deacon. “I—I don’t know,” she said honestly.
Deacon smiled at her, but this time the smile was more intimate…and warmer. Even his voice took on a rich, seductive quality, which alerted Eva and which stated what he was thinking in that moment.
“I like you very much, Eva. I’d be very happy if you stay here with Deacon.”
Eva stared at him. She was flattered beyond words. But she found she couldn’t answer him directly. She swallowed. “Deacon, there are lots of pretty available women here…” Eva thought of Anna Simpson, even of Lavona Morris. “How come you haven’t married before?”
He laughed softly, sitting back in his chair as their plates were served.
“Oh. I’m very particular, you know. I been waiting for someone just like you!”
Eva shook her head sadly. “It—it can’t be me, Deacon. I like you very much. You’ve helped to make my trip here really memorable, but…I can’t stay here with you.”
That effectively silenced them both for a time. Eva expected the lunch to then become a morbid affair. But it didn’t. It was pleasant, enjoyable, and welcomed.
Afterward, Eva did not invite Deacon back to the house at Hawksnest, knowing it was useless and unnecessary to draw out the inevitable. Though they spent much of the afternoon walking through Cruz Bay, talking and laughing easily, when the five o’clock ferry left for St. Thomas, Deacon was on it. Eva knew she’d never see him again.
&n
bsp; She became uneasy after that, restless. She had an anticlimactic feeling based on absolutely nothing. It was just there. She suddenly had a dread of going back to Hawksnest and the house there. She suddenly didn’t want to be alone, although she knew for certain she didn’t want to be with Deacon Butler. Eva suddenly cursed the small tightness of St. John, which gave her a limited number of places to escape to. Sighing in frustration, Eva climbed into the Jeep and drove home feeling depressed.
Eva walked into the gallery and absently dropped her tote. She walked pensively into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of lemonade. She turned from the refrigerator with the glass almost to her lips. She noticed, then, a jacket thrown over her counter space. She looked down and saw a small black nylon duffle. Eva spun around and searched the gallery, finally locating Adam leaning against a column.
He had a full week’s growth of beard, making him look positively rakish and very handsome. Eva’s heart and stomach turned over at the sight of him, and unconsciously she broke into a bright smile.
“Maxwell!” she exclaimed, putting her untouched lemonade on the counter. Typically Adam didn’t return a greeting to her. He was dressed in a pair of very faded jeans and a blue work shirt tucked into the waistband, but unbuttoned almost to the waist. The sleeves were rolled to the elbow. His skin color seemed even darker, if that was possible, from the intense sun on open waters.
Slowly Adam pushed himself from the pillar and moved toward her. His mouth was a hard straight line. Eva frowned in confusion at him, the smile fading from her lips.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said low in a deceptively controlled tone.
“How long?” she asked, for want of anything else to say.
“Long enough,” he responded shortly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I thought you’d be here. You weren’t on the beach. I saw Milly Decker, so you weren’t with her. You didn’t go into St. Thomas because the gate to the house entrance was unlocked…”
“I was in Cruz Bay having lunch,” Eva said formally, tightening inside. Her gladness at seeing Adam was fast vanishing under his bombastic accusing tone of voice.
“Alone?” he asked scathingly.
Eva stood tall and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is this?” she asked defensively. Adam’s jaw jerked in anger. “No, I wasn’t alone. I was with a friend…” she said emphasizing the last word. Then she didn’t wait for him to ask who. “It was Deacon Butler. You remember him. He’s the cabdriver I picked up on St. Thomas. I think that’s how you so nicely put it!” Eva didn’t realize her voice was slowly rising in indignant anger. Adam suddenly reached and grabbed her by the upper arms, his fingers biting harshly into her skin. Eva gasped.
“I haven’t even been home yet. Lito dropped me off here so I could see you. I thought you’d be here!” he ground out. Eva was bewildered at his attitude, and her own confusion and despondency had reached its peak. She jerked in his hold on her.
“Why should I have been? What right had you to expect me to be? I don’t recall that you mentioned when you’d be back!”
“Perhaps I was wrong to expect a lot of things. Maybe I was right about you in the first place.” Adam released Eva so abruptly that she went back against the counter, the edge hitting her back. “Telling me Deacon meant nothing to you, that you wouldn’t see him again…”
“I never said any such thing! Deacon’s a friend, Maxwell, and I like him as just that. And I didn’t intend on seeing him again. He came to see me without any warning!”
“But you didn’t send him away either!”
Eva’s mouth dropped open. “Why should I?”
“So you wouldn’t lead the poor fool on as you did me.”
“As I did…. Get out!” Eva screamed. “Get out of here!” She stamped her foot in frustration, her hands bunching into tight little fists.
Adam smiled unpleasantly at her. “What’s the matter? Did I hit on the truth?”
Eva arched a brow and laughed in derision. “You wouldn’t know the truth if it kicked you!” She turned and picked up Maxwell’s duffle. It was heavy, but her anger lent her strength, and she heaved and swung it toward him. The bag hit Adam in the chest, and his hands came up to grab and clutch it. His face contorted strangely and his brows drew sharply together. But then his face cleared. Eva never noticed in her mission to get Adam out of her sight.
“You have no rights over me! We don’t belong to each other. And you have no right to pass judgment on me about whom I see!”
She threw his jacket at him. It also landed against his chest but slid lightly to the floor at his feet. Eva faced him, her hands on her slender hips, beside herself with outrage. When she thought of all those recent nights of not getting any decent sleep for thinking of him, she wanted to resort to physical violence.
“You have some nerve!” Eva continued to rant. “What have I ever said to you about Lavona? For all I know she was with you the whole week you were away! It’s okay for you to do what you want, but I’m supposed to prove you wrong about me! Talk about double standards…”
“Okay, okay…you’ve made your point,” Adam finally got in, his voice now oddly strained and shaky. “But for the record, Lavona wasn’t with me…”
Eva laughed again. “Oh! And just because you say so I’m supposed to believe you?”
Adam leaned against a near pillar. Eva’s anger had purged itself from her. Her chest was heaving in exhaustion, and she felt disappointed. She’d missed him so much, and for him now to treat her as if she was someone that he had a right to order about…tears began to fill her eyes and her vision blurred. Adam’s images wavered and swam before her.
“This is silly…” Eva said in a choked voice, wiping her tears from her eyes and smearing them across her cheek. “Why are we yelling at each other? What difference does it make where I was? You don’t think that much of me anyway.” She sniffed and walked into the kitchen again, needing a tissue to blow her nose. Eva was feeling more depressed and dejected by the minute. After having located the tissue, she blew her nose and came back to face Adam again.
“I think you’d better go. I just want you to leave me alone.” Her voice broke.
Adam’s eyes were bleak as he stared at her. Eva couldn’t begin to guess at what he was thinking. His head tilted backward as he took in a deep breath of air, his eyes closing momentarily, as if warily. “All right…I’ll go,” he acquiesced. There was no sarcasm, no more fight from him, and that immediately puzzled Eva.
Adam shifted the duffle to one hand and bent forward with a grunt to pick up his jacket. There was a fine mist of perspiration on his forehead, throat, and neck. He started walking toward Eva, heading for the door. Inside, Eva could feel herself relenting toward him.
“Did…did you have a good trip?” she found herself asking. Maxwell quirked a cynical brow at her.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, I do,” she informed him quietly. “I know those experiments were very important to you.”
Adam looked at her thoughtfully, his eyes glazed and almost unfocused. Eva began to get suspicious and frowned at him. Adam nodded briefly. “It was a good trip…” Then he proceeded past her. Eva turned her head, still frowning, to look after him and gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth.
“Maxwell! You’re bleeding!” she said in real shock, watching an ever-growing stain of dark red moisture spread along his side under his right arm.
But Adam never stopped, continuing through the entrance and unsteadily down the steps.
“Max!” Eva yelled frantically after him but he continued walking. Eva went after him. She grabbed his upper sleeve and jerked until his head turned in her direction. He looked at her, but Eva wasn’t sure in that moment he was really seeing her. Adam seemed almost feverish to her.
“Oh, Maxwell…” Eva moaned in growing sympathy, her anger and earlier indignation completely forgotten. She was suddenly spurred into action. S
he took his duffle and threw it into the Jeep, followed by the jacket. “Get in!” Eva ordered Adam.
Adam wearily put his hands on his hips, seemingly unaware of his bloodied condition. “Look…I don’t need…”
“What were you going to do? Go home and quietly bleed to death!” Eva said scathingly. Adam opened his mouth to speak. “Get in!” Eva said again. They stared at each other for long struggling moments, and then Maxwell slowly swung his tall frame into the passenger side of Eva’s Jeep.
Eva ran back to the house for her tote and keys and returned seconds later to find Adam somewhat slouched in his seat, one foot braced on the opening, his arm hanging limply over his bent knee. Eva got in, got the Jeep into gear, and drove a little recklessly to Maxwell’s house. The Jeep had barely come to a halt when Adam was struggling to get out, heading right for the door to unlock it and walk inside. He headed slowly for the bathroom. By the time Eva had followed him inside, Maxwell was returning to the living room with a hand filled with bottles, cotton gauze, tape, scissors, and a wet washcloth.
Eva turned on some lights and pulled out Maxwell’s work stool for him to sit on. He began to pull the shirt from the jeans and, wincing once, shrugged the soiled shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. Eva caught it before it hit the floor and took it to the kitchen to run water on it before the blood stains set.
The thick gauze padding already taped to Maxwell’s side was soaked through with blood, and he contorted his body trying to lift the material away. It stuck to the wound.
“I’ll do it…” Eva said, gently pushing his hands away. Her own hands began to shake as she gingerly removed the gauze from the torn, tender flesh, causing Maxwell to stiffen in pain despite his silence. “What happened?” Eva’s voice croaked when she saw the raw open wound.
“Easy,” Adam said in a low voice. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“But what happened?” Eva took the washcloth and began dabbing around the wound, soaking up the blood. It was not a large gash, but it did seem to be deep.
“A steel securing line snapped onboard ship…” He winced.