The morning found me freezing and alone. I shivered underneath the quilts for a while, unwilling to get out of bed, but both nature and duty called. I got up, took a fast shower and dressed. I made her bed as best I knew how and went downstairs to the kitchen where I could smell bacon frying. Meri was standing over the stove.
She turned and smiled when she heard me come in. “Here,” she said, handing me the spatula, “if you finish the bacon, I’ll take care of Sergeant.”
I smiled at her gratefully, glad for the opportunity to miss the frosty morning, and grabbed the spatula. She didn’t let go. She slid her hand slowly up the handle and over mine, leaned into me and kissed me lightly on the lips. I stared at her in stunned silence, my mouth hanging open. With a grin, she chucked me under the chin and my teeth snapped shut. She grabbed her coat off the back of the chair and sauntered out the door, on her way to the barn. I stared at the door and then turned to the bacon, scowling at the bubbling strips as I shifted them around in the pan. Her kiss burned my mouth and made me feel all shaky inside, but Meri was the last person in the world that I wanted to hurt. She didn’t understand, and I didn’t know how to explain.
When she came inside, her face flushed with the cold, I had the slightly burned bacon on the table along with some mostly overdone eggs. The toast sat chilled and forgotten in the toaster. I poured her a cup of coffee and sat in my chair opposite hers, keeping my head lowered, unwilling to meet her eyes but still feeling the weight of them on me. I sat with my hands in my lap, listening to the scratching of her fork against her plate, the creak of her chair as she shifted her weight, the faint scuff of her shoes against the floor. I had never been so aware of her or been so frightened of myself.
“Bea,” she said. I looked up, reluctantly. Her eggs were scattered but uneaten. She sat slumped in her chair. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I was out of line. I must have misinterpreted . . .” She stopped and cleared her throat. “When you kissed my shoulder last night, I thought . . . I must not have understood . . .” Her voice broke, and she dropped her fork. “I’m sorry,” she said again, pushing her chair back, legs screeching loudly against the tile. Her feet pounded up the stairs. I heard her door slam shut.
I sat, staring at her plate, then rose, gathered the dishes and took them to the sink. The house was creaking and popping as the air outside began to warm, but underneath it, I thought I heard her crying. It was too late, then. I hurt her already.
I carefully washed the dishes and put them in the rack to dry. Egg chunks swirled around in the sink and disappeared down the drain. I left the toast sitting popped up in the toaster. Moving slowly, I dried my hands, put the plate of bacon in the refrigerator and turned the coffeepot off. It was time for me to leave. Past time. I had to go now, before things got really out of hand, before I hurt her any more, before I hurt myself. The only thing left was to figure out how. I hadn’t the faintest idea how to go about stealing a car, or maybe Meri would be willing to drive me to a bus station. I slumped against the counter and rubbed at my eyes. There was still one other thing that I had to do before all that, harder than asking for a ride, harder than stealing a car. I had to find a way to tell her good-bye.
I climbed the stairs with heavy feet, past the pictures of her family that hung on the wall every three steps or so, then walked to the end of the long hall. I knocked on her door. “Meri?” I called through the pine.
“Yes?” I heard her sniff and blow her nose.
I closed my eyes and leaned against the door. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
I opened the door. She was lying on the bed curled on her side with a tissue balled in her hand. Three more lay crumpled on the nightstand. I went in and sat on the edge of the bed next to her knees. She looked so small curled up like that, looking at me with tear-brightened eyes. I reached over to tuck a stray wisp of hair back behind her ear. I let my hand linger, tracing the outline of her ear, the line of her jaw, touching her cheek with my fingertips, wiping the dampness from the bridge of her nose.
“I’m sorry,” she said again and left it there.
I shook my head. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Meri. This is my fault. The mistake was mine. I knew you didn’t understand, and I didn’t make any effort to explain.”
“Are you going to leave now?” Her voice broke.
I pulled a new tissue from the box and handed it to her. “I have to, Meri. I should have left weeks ago.”
“You should have left before I screwed everything up.”
“You didn’t screw anything up.”
“I know I did, Bea. You don’t have to soften it.” She balled the new tissue in her hand and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “I’ve gotten so used to you. I guess I started making assumptions that I shouldn’t have. I forgot you’re not from around here. People do things differently where you come from. You’re probably used to all that causal touching and stuff, and then I had to go and think it meant something different, something more.”
I looked down at her, so surprised that I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry. I didn’t do either. I touched a finger to the corner of her mouth and ran it lightly across her lips. It made all my fingertips tingle.
“It did mean something more, Meri.” Her eyes widened a little as I cupped her cheek in my hand. “I love being here with you. If I could, I would stay here forever.”
She laid her hand over mine and pressed my palm hard against her face. “You can, Bea. I want you to.”
I shook my head. “No, I can’t.”
“Why?” She turned her head and whispered into my palm. “If it meant something more, why can’t you stay?”
“Because my life is complicated and yours is not.” I rubbed my thumb gently across her cheekbone. “Because you’re good and kind and strong, and I’m none of those things. I’ve already failed so many people, Meri. I can’t stand the thought of failing you. I can’t stay because I can’t be what you need me to be.”
Meri dropped my hand and sat up, her face only inches away from mine. “That’s just plain silly, Bea. I don’t want you to be anything that you’re not being right this minute.” Her eyes, storm cloud gray and glimmering, searched across my face. She lifted a hand and touched my forehead, running her fingers lightly along my scar. “I want you to stay here with me. That’s all. You’ve become a part of this place. You belong here now.”
I shook my head and her hand fell away. “You don’t understand, Meri. If I stay, someone will find me.”
“Bea, you’re in the middle of nowhere. No one’s going to find you.”
“Ever?” I asked. “Do you plan on keeping me locked in the pantry when you have guests?” She didn’t answer and I nodded slightly. “Someone will find me, and if they find me here then it won’t just be me that pays the price.” I touched her cheek with the back of my hand. “I don’t think I could stand that. It’s too beautiful here for you to let me mess it up.”
“I want you to mess it up,” she whispered fiercely.
“Only because you don’t understand what that can mean.”
She leaned forward, dipped her head and rubbed her lips across my shoulder. She turned her head so that her mouth lay warm and damp against my throat. “I know what that means.” The words whispered across my skin in a tickle of breath that raised goose bumps on my arms.
I closed my eyes and shivered. She raised her head and rubbed her cheek against mine. The soft warmth of her nearly choked me. Her fingers were on my chin, turning my head. She laid her mouth on mine, a gentle brush of lips, palms sliding up to cup my cheeks. I took in the smell of her, barnyard and springtime, frost and fresh air. A hint of cinnamon still hung in her hair. She made a small sound and her mouth opened slightly. I opened mine, and the taste of her drew an echo from me. She pressed harder and I leaned into her kiss. The tip of her tongue touched mine and our mouths melted together.
Her hands dropped and fumbled at my waist, pulling at my sweater, slipping u
nderneath my shirts. Her palms were cool against my skin. One hand pressed hard against the small of my back and the other slid over my ribs. It moved higher, sliding slowly like scuffed silk over my skin, until she held my breast in the cup of her hand. She squeezed, and I groaned into her mouth. She groaned into mine. I wrapped my arms around her and pressed her tight against me. I was lost. It was too late to stop this thing, even though I knew it was a mistake. It was the wrong path to take. It would only hurt her in the end, and that would hurt me, but I couldn’t stop my feet from stepping.
“We shouldn’t do this, Meri,” I said, kissing a long slow line down the side of her neck, my hands clutching at her back.
Yes, we should,” she said and pulled us down.
I woke with a smile and a lazy cat stretch, my body languid and pleasantly sore in some very odd places. The late afternoon sun beamed in through the window, and I rolled over to touch Meri, to feel the warm brush of her skin, to make sure the whole morning hadn’t been a dream. She wasn’t there, only cold sheets and a rumpled pillow. I sat up.
“Meri?” I called out, looking frantically around the room for my clothes. Or any clothes. They weren’t on the floor where we left them this morning. There was no bra caught on the bedpost, no panties hanging from lampshade. “Meri?” I called out again.
“Coming,” I heard her call from downstairs. “Don’t get up. I’m coming right back.”
I lay down again against the pillows, shivering at the chill, and snuggled the comforters around my shoulders. I heard Meri clomping up the stairs. She appeared in the doorway holding a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of toast.
I smiled at her shyly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did,” she said setting the tray on the nightstand and handing me a cup of coffee. She sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over and kissed me lightly. “I didn’t want to be the only one with coffee breath.”
She did have coffee breath, and her clothes smelled of fresh air and barn waste. I inhaled deeply, filling myself with her scents, holding the essence of her deep inside me. If only I could keep her there, but a body has to breathe. I let the breath trickle out slowly. She smiled at me and shook her head as if she knew what I was doing. Maybe she did. Her sharp eyes didn’t miss much. I took a sip of my coffee and pulled her to me, kissing her hard, urgent and insistent. She took the cup out of my hands, set it on the tray and slipped under the covers. She pulled me against her, sweater scratching at my breasts, jeans chafing at my thighs. Her boots knocked against my shin.
I grinned at her. “I hope you’re not getting barn muck all over your sheets.”
“Who cares?” she asked as her lips nibbled a shivery trail across my shoulder.
I slipped a hand underneath her sweater. She hadn’t bothered with a bra. My thumb brushed lightly over a taut nipple. I pressed it gently and she moaned against my skin. I felt my body swell and tighten.
“I only mention it,” I said softly, my mouth against her ear, “because I’m not sure how I’m going to get your jeans off if you still have your boots on.”
Her shoulders shuddered under my hands. She raised her head to look at me. “You’re naked.” She slid her hand slowly down the length of my body, cupping my butt and pulling me tighter against her. “That’s good enough.” She moved her hips forward and back, up and then down. The rough cloth of her jeans rubbed across the center of me making the breath catch in my throat. She bent her head to kiss me, but I pulled away. “What?” she asked.
I tugged at her sweater. “Off.”
She smiled and slipped the sweater over her head. I bent to kiss her breasts. She gasped as I touched her with my tongue, rolled the tight bud of her around in my mouth. Her hand slid through my hair, cradling the back of my head, holding me to her. I sucked harder, taking as much of her breast into my mouth as I could. She cried out, a mangle of half-formed words, then she lifted my head and pulled me up to press her mouth hard against mine. Her tongue pushed between my lips as her hand dipped between my legs, fingers sliding, soft and sure, with a stroke so sweet that I nearly forgot who I was. Her tongue played over mine and my hips moved against her hand, matching her stroke for stroke. The warmth began to build inside me, a quivering, flickering flame in my belly, growing hotter and brighter.
Meri shifted, and a boot smashed against my ankle.
“Ow,” I yelled and rolled away from her.
“Oh, Bea, I’m sorry.” Meri reached down and rubbed my knee.
“That’s not where it hurts,” I said, “and you really need to take those boots off.”
She kicked them off and I raised an eyebrow at her. “I never did lace them,” she said with a wry smile.
“You mean my ankle’s all bruised now for no very good reason?”
She grinned at me. “You want me to kiss it and make it all better?”
I started to grin too, but the look in her eyes took the smile right off my face. “Oh, yes.”
She lifted herself, straddled my body and, with a quick, hard kiss, ducked underneath the covers. Suddenly, I found it hard to catch my breath with my heart beating so hard against my chest. She slid her body slowly down mine, letting her breasts trail over my skin, across my stomach, over my hips, brushing them down the line of my thighs, pressing against my knees, rubbing across my shins, making my hands spasm and clench. She slid past my feet. Her fingers made little circles around my ankle. “Is this where it hurts?”
I shook my head, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t see me. “It’s the other one,” I said hoarsely.
Her fingers circled around my other ankle. There was the light touch of her lips on my shin, hands squeezed my foot and began playing lightly over my calves. Then she took my big toe into her mouth. Tongue to toe. I never imagined that I could feel such a thing as the fire that shot up my leg.
“Oh, god!” My body jerked and trembled.
Her hands and mouth moved higher, fingers caressing the backs of my knees, lips trailing close behind. She wriggled between my legs, pushed against my thighs, lifted them and stretched them wide. Her hands slipped under me, scooting under to grab my butt. She lifted me up and into her mouth, drank me down, swallowed me whole. Small noises burst from deep in my throat as my hips moved to match the warm, broad strokes of her tongue. She slipped fingers inside me, and my hands clawed at the sheets. She focused her attentions and narrowed in on the brightest ember in the flames. My body pulsed, shuddered and writhed as the whole world shrank down to rest on the tip of her tongue.
I lay draped between Meri’s legs with my cheek pressed against her stomach, her wet still on my chin. The sound of her sharp cries still tingled down my spine. Her fingers played through my hair as I listened to the strong beat of her heart, my toes tapping out its rhythm against the foot of the bed.
“So you’ll stay here then, Bea?” she asked softly.
I raised my head to rest my chin in the dip of her bellybutton. Evening was falling, and the room was growing dim, but her hair still glowed brightly as it lay in a scattered mess across the pillow. “Yes, I’ll stay,” I answered, “for as long as I can.”
She lifted her head. “I don’t understand.”
I kissed the soft skin of her stomach and moved from between her legs to stretch out next to her. “I’ll stay until my father finds me. He will, you know. He always has.”
“So?” She shrugged. “He finds you and you tell him that you’re staying here with me. What can he do?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I touched her skin, my fingers drawing little spirals over her heart, over the swell of her breast and then in between. “I’ve seen him do nasty things to get what he wants, hurtful, underhanded but perfectly legal things.” I’d also seen him do things that were on the wrong side of legal, but I didn’t see any point in sharing. I was afraid enough for her already.
“But what can he do to you? You don’t need his money.” She turned her head away from me, her eyes blinking. “I mea
n, I’m not rich or anything but I’m sure not going to let you starve. You don’t need him if you don’t mind living on a farm.”
I touched her chin and turned her face back toward me. “My father wouldn’t hesitate to hurt the things I love to get me to do what he wants me to do.” Meri didn’t say anything, just blinked at me. I grinned at her. “That would be you.”
And a smile lit up her face that brightened my whole world. Her eyes sparkled as she grabbed my hand and kissed my fingers. “I love you too, Bea.”
“I know,” I said squeezing her hand. “That’s why when he comes, I’ll have to leave, so he won’t hurt you.”
Her smile faded. “You’ve already run clear across the country. Where else is there for you to go?” She pressed my hand against her chest. Her heart beat hard in the center of my palm. “Bea, stay here. Stand up to him. Face him down. We’ll do something to make him leave us alone.”
My fingers found the dip in her skin right at the hollow of her throat. It was so soft. “Do you know what would happen if the zoning laws for your farm were suddenly changed?” Meri looked confused at my sharp left turn, so I answered the question for her. “You would be forced to sell your land.”
Understanding widened her eyes and then disbelief narrowed them again. “No one can force you to sell something you don’t want to.”
“Yes, they can,” I said, drumming my fingers on her collarbone. “It’s perfectly legal for the government to force you to sell your property to them as long as they pay you a fair market value and promise to use the property for the greater good. What do you think would happen if my father waltzed in here with a few million and pledged to build a hospital or a library or a new school, but insisted that it be built on this piece of land?”
As Far As Far Enough Page 5