She smiled in the dimness of the bedroom. “Yes, my love. No, Jeremy!” she gasped when a hand reached down and covered her feminine heat.
Her protests were short-lived once she found herself sprawled over her husband’s chest, and the only thing that mattered was that she loved the man in her arms as much as he loved her.
Twelve
Tricia sat on the floor in the living room opening cartons. It had taken her two days to empty the boxes containing items for the kitchen and put everything she intended to keep away. Another day was spent unpacking china, silver and stemware that had once graced her dining room. She preferred her own dining room furniture to the style that Jeremy had selected. When she told him she wanted to make the switch he told her that the house was hers to change, decorate or renovate.
He had begun the responsibility of taking over the reins of running the horse farm from Sheldon. Jeremy, Sheldon and Ryan had established a ritual of meeting after breakfast to discuss the farm’s finances and the projected sale of existing stock to increase cash flow. Expanding Blackstone Farms Day School from preschool to sixth grade had strained the farm’s cash reserves. It would take more than two years of tuition from the non-farm students to recoup the expenditures.
Tricia glanced up when she heard familiar footsteps. Jeremy stood over her, smiling. He tightened the knot to a wine-colored tie under the collar of a stark-white shirt. Her wedding gift to him of a pair of white-gold and onyx cufflinks were fitted into the shirt’s French cuffs. He and Sheldon were scheduled to go into Richmond for a breakfast meeting with a banker to apply for a short-term loan.
“I have some money,” she said without preamble.
Jeremy’s hands stilled. “What are you talking about?”
“I have some money,” she repeated, “you could use to ease the farm’s cash flow.” The first time Jeremy discussed the farm’s finances with her she thought about the money sitting in a Baltimore bank collecting interest. The money she had received as a settlement and the proceeds from the sale of her home was more than the amount Sheldon intended to borrow.
Jeremy eased his tall frame down to the sofa, his gaze fixed on an open box. Resting atop a sheet of bubble wrap was a photograph of Tricia cradling a baby. At that moment he was grateful he was seated, realizing he could have fallen and reinjured his ankle.
Tricia looked the way she had before she’d left the farm. Her hair was long, and instead of the single braid it flowed around her shoulders in curly ringlets. The child staring out at the camera was an exact replica of the images in his own baby photographs.
She had had his child and not told him!
Rage swelled not permitting him to breathe. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The question was squeezed out between his clenched teeth.
“What are—” The words died on Tricia’s lips when she noticed the direction of Jeremy’s gaze. Sitting atop the box she’d just opened was the only photograph of her with her daughter she’d kept. In her grief, she had cut up all of the others before realizing she would want one tangible memory of her beautiful baby.
She reached out to touch Jeremy’s knee, but he jerked away as if she were carrying a communicable disease. Rising to his feet, he glared at her. “Don’t touch me.”
Tricia went to her knees, her eyes filling with tears. “Jeremy, please. Let me explain.”
His hands curled into tight fists as he glowered at the woman he wanted to hate. He shook his head. “No, Tricia. I don’t…I can’t. Not now.”
The tears filling her eyes fell, streaking her face, and she collapsed to the floor not seeing her husband when he walked out of the room. However, she did hear the front door he’d slammed so violently that windows shook. She cried until spent, and when Gus found her she was still on the floor.
He managed to convince her to get off the floor and sit on the sofa. Curving an arm around her shoulders, he pressed a kiss to her short hair. “What’s the matter, grandbaby girl?”
Tricia told her grandfather about Jeremy seeing the photograph of her and Juliet. “He hates me, Grandpa.”
Gus patted her back. “No, he doesn’t. He’s hurt because you didn’t tell him that he had become a father.”
“I have to make him understand that I didn’t deliberately deceive him.”
“Jeremy loves you, Tricia. And because he does he’ll come around.”
She wanted to believe her grandfather, but the look on Jeremy’s face and his “Don’t touch me,” said otherwise. Easing out of Gus’s protective embrace, Tricia stood up and headed toward the door.
“I’m going out.”
Lines of concern creased Gus’s forehead. “Are you going to be all right?”
She stopped, not turning, and flashed a wry smile. “Yes. I’m going to wait for my husband to come home, then I’m going to tell him about his daughter.”
“You can tell Jeremy about Juliet after I tell you about Patricia and your father.” Gus saw Tricia’s back stiffened, but she did not move. “Your mother got a part-time job at Sheffield’s Hardware the year she turned sixteen. Olga warned her about Sheffield’s son, who did not have the best reputation with young women. Patricia wouldn’t listen and snuck out nights to meet him.
“Patricia thought he was going to marry her once she told him she was carrying his baby. Of course that never happened because his father had made plans for him to go away to college. She dropped out of school, had you and took up with him again. It all ended after Morgan Sheffield left Staunton to attend college. You were a year old when Patricia put you in my arms and asked me to take care of you. The next time I saw my only child was three months later when I had to go to Tennessee to identify her body. The police told me she’d died of malnutrition. It was apparent she had starved herself to death. I brought her body back and had her cremated.
“I know your pain, grandbaby, because I know how it feels to lose a child. Raising you offered me another chance at parenthood. But once I realized you were involved with Sheldon’s son it was like déjà vu. The difference was that Jeremy loved you and he still loves you.”
Her shoulders slumping, Tricia nodded. “Thank you, Grandpa, for telling me about my mother. Now I have closure.”
She walked out of the house and made her way toward the road that would take her to the north end of the horse farm. A sad smile touched her mouth. The Sheffields had abandoned their business more than ten years ago, after a Home Depot was erected in a strip mall several miles off the interstate.
Her past behind her, Tricia knew she had to right her future.
The first person Jeremy saw when he returned home after his meeting with the bank president was his wife’s grandfather. “Good afternoon, Grandpa.”
It actually wasn’t a good afternoon because he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything since seeing the photograph of Tricia with his child. The image of the baby with black curly hair and large gray eyes would haunt him to the grave.
Gus nodded, his expression impassive. “Good afternoon, son.” He gestured to a nearby chair. “Come, sit down.”
“If you don’t mind I’d like to talk to Tricia.”
“Tricia’s not here. Sit down.”
Jeremy went completely still. “What do you mean she’s not here?”
Gus saw naked fear on Jeremy’s face. “She didn’t run away, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Where is she?”
“She went for a walk.”
Turning on his heel, Jeremy retraced his steps off the porch. “I’ll see you later.”
Gus nodded, watching the tall figure as he walked to his vehicle and drove away. It was obvious Tricia was not her mother because she had fallen in love with a man who loved her unconditionally.
Jeremy let out his breath in a ragged shudder as he stopped and cut off the engine. She was there, sitting under a weeping willow tree, her bare feet in a narrow stream. He had driven to the section of the farm where they’d once picnicked and made love. He walked over to wh
ere she sat staring up at him. Her gaze was unwavering as she rose fluidly from the grass.
“If you want a divorce, then I won’t contest it.”
Jeremy moved closer until they were only inches apart and slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers to keep from touching his wife.
“There will not be a divorce, Tricia. Not now, not ever. Unless…”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Unless what?”
“You’re ready to give me back my heart.”
Tricia stared at the man with the luminous eyes that had the power to reach inside her and hold her heart captive. “No, Jeremy. I can’t give it back because I don’t want to.”
A smile softened his mouth. “And I don’t want you to.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and reached for her. Burying his face in her hair, Jeremy pressed a kiss there. “I can’t believe I did the same thing I did fourteen years ago—walk away from you rather than staying to face the truth.”
Clinging to her husband, Tricia told Jeremy everything from the moment her pregnancy was confirmed to when she placed a single red rose on the tiny white casket before it lowered into a grave and her subsequent decision to marry Dwight.
“If I had come back to the farm, she never would have died.”
Jeremy placed his fingers over her mouth. “Maybe all she was given was three months, darling. She’s an angel now.” His mouth replaced his fingers and he kissed her. “Our little angel.”
Tricia clung to Jeremy, feeding on his strength. “I love you so much.”
He smiled. “Love you more.”
“I don’t think so,” she countered.
“Would you like to place a wager, Mrs. Blackstone?”
Easing back, Tricia smiled up at him. “What would I have to wager, Mr. Blackstone?”
“Your heart.”
She felt a warm glow flow through her. “I accept, but only if you’re willing to wager the same.”
“You have it, Tricia. I gave it to you a long time ago.”
“How long ago?”
“The first time I peered through the bars of my crib to see you staring back at me.”
Leaning back in his embrace, Tricia tilted her head and laughed uncontrollably. Jeremy’s laughter joined hers and they were still laughing when they walked into their home and smiled at Gus, who watched them climb the staircase to the second floor.
Jeremy lowered his wife to the bed with the intent of reconciling in the most intimate way possible. They took their time loving each other with all of their senses.
Sated, limbs entwined, hearts beating in unison, Tricia and Jeremy were filled with the peace that had surrounded them from the moment they’d acknowledged their love for each other. It had taken a long time, but they were now ready to plan for another generation of Blackstones.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-0620-8
VERY PRIVATE DUTY
Copyright © 2004 by Rochelle Alers
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*The Blackstones of Virginia
Very Private Duty Page 13