His tongue brushed her lips, coaxing them apart as he tortured her with teasing tenderness. She arched against him, arms going around his neck to bring him closer.
She trailed her hands down his back, loving the feel of his rippling muscles. A heated rush was building, pulsing through her veins to course all through her body.
He rolled to one side, his knee slipping between her legs to spread them apart. Then his hand traveled downward to become a hot sword of pleasure as he began to stroke and massage, then plunge in and upward, thrusting to and fro.
She moaned, arching her neck, her breasts pushing against him as he dipped his mouth to lick each nipple in turn.
She tried to get closer, pushing her hips upon him, feeling his hard shaft hot and pulsating against her. He held back, making her want him all the more.
At last he could stand it no longer and guided her up and onto her knees.
“I want to be deep inside you,” he said, clutching her by her waist and positioning himself between her thighs. “I want to hold you tight and give you everything I have to give.”
And Jackie wanted it all...so much so that she thought if he didn’t take her then and there she would surely die.
He pushed into her, and a cry of delight escaped her lips. Then he was moving, and she felt him deep and hard and reveled in every thrust. He clutched her waist, then her breasts. She matched his rhythm. Then she felt him quicken just as the first pulses of ecstasy began for her.
They peaked together and clung together, for long, tender moments. At last, spent, they tumbled forward to lay spoonlike, with Jackie’s back cuddled against him.
She shuddered and felt goose bumps dance up and down her spine as his warm lips pressed against her shoulder.
Jackie knew in that crystallized moment that in her heart she would always want him.
But deep down she knew she would never be content with an endless affair.
It was, for the moment, as good as it gets...as the saying went.
And, heart shuddering, she wondered just how long the goodness would last.
Sam loved watching Jackie as she slept.
The truth was, he loved everything about her, only he had no intentions of letting her know that. If she did stay it had to be by her own volition. He did not want her feelings for him to have any influence on her decision. Well he knew errant choices could be made when passion got in the way of reason. She seemed to be adjusting to the life, but he had to be sure. Not only for his sake...but Brian’s, as well.
He knew it seemed hard-hearted, cruel almost, to deny his son the pleasure of being around someone he so obviously adored. But he had to, at all costs, protect him from another hurt.
And maybe, Sam thought as he pressed his lips to her cheek and held her, he wanted to spare himself another heartbreak, as well.
Chapter Fourteen
Jackie found herself living for the times when she could be with Sam, as the weeks slowly drifted by.
New Year’s came and went. January passed in a snowy, icy blur with February swirling right behind it as winter vented its fury upon the mountains.
She was able to finally work on the poetry she had longed to for so long. She dabbled with painting. And her stack of unread books grew smaller and smaller.
Sometimes Sam brought Brian with him, and she would whip up something fun for them to eat—spaghetti, sloppy Joes, lasagna. She could also make a terrific pan pizza that Sam loved, which inspired him to say that for the first time he didn’t mind not being able to have it delivered.
“When did you ever have it delivered?” she asked, laughing.
He said back in his college days, where fast food was what he’d actually majored in.
Brian still didn’t speak. Otherwise, he was a normal little boy. He watched television. He liked to play Nintendo. He enjoyed having someone read to him.
“I have to make a decision very soon,” Sam said one evening as they sat on the sofa enjoying spiced tea while Brian sat at the kitchen table putting a puzzle together. “He’ll be old enough to start school next fall, but he can’t go the way he is now.”
Jackie had avoided broaching the subject, but since Sam opened it up, she plunged right in, keeping her voice low so Brian wouldn’t hear. “I still don’t understand how anyone could say he’s retarded. He’s very bright.”
“And I agree. But my mother doesn’t, and she says he’s never going to be happy until he’s with his own kind.”
“And what is his own kind?” Jackie challenged, struggling to keep a rein on her temper. She told herself to tread lightly where Sam’s mother was concerned, but it made her furious to hear that Joan Colton could say such a thing.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out, if I decide to send him to the place she’s found for him.”
“And where is that?”
“Over near the coast—Goldsboro.”
Jackie had been leaning against him, enjoying the feel of her body close to his, but she sat straight up to cry, “You’re talking about O’Berry Center, aren’t you? Sam, you can’t send him there. I know that place. It’s where they put seriously impaired children and adults. It’s a wonderful place, true, but Brian doesn’t belong there.”
“My mother’s doctor thinks he does.”
Jackie became huffy then, not caring if he resented her criticism of his mother. “Well, Brian is your son. Not hers. And I think it’s terrible that a grandmother has no other solution than to shut her grandson away with people who are really badly off.”
To her surprise Sam didn’t seem to mind her censure. “I agree she’s overreacting, but she’s changed since Dad died. She’s married to a man now who is completely different, and her attitude is that everything can be fixed with money since they seem to have plenty of it. But she’s not a bad person, Jackie, believe me,” he added quietly, searching her face for some sign that she understood. “And you have to admit he’s not getting any better here. It can’t go on. It’s not fair to him.”
“When are they going to put the phone line in?” Jackie suddenly wanted to know.
Surprised by the abrupt change of subject, Sam said it might be in another week. “I talked to one of the linemen in town a couple of days ago. He said the weather is supposed to break soon. We’ll get some unseasonably warm weather. They plan to take advantage of it and get out here. Why?”
“Just wondering,” she said. She kept her plan to contact some doctors to herself, not wanting to get Sam’s hopes up... and also not wanting him annoyed at what he might consider meddling.
He had told her she was being spoiled by the good weather, that she still hadn’t experienced the havoc winter could wreak and might be in for a rude awakening one of these days.
Jackie didn’t mind. What she did mind, however, was the ambivalence with which Sam seemed to regard the two of them. He was as dynamic as ever in his lovemaking. They were bold, adventuresome, and he showed her ways of pleasure she never knew existed. As for her part, she was always willing to do anything different if it made him happy. But once it was over, it was back to life as normal, and they seemed no more than business partners.
So Jackie began to ask herself if she could be content with lust and a few thousand Christmas trees... because it was starting to seem that was all they would ever have.
Meanwhile, she decided to go ahead with her plans to run operations on her land by herself. She spent the rest of her money on seeds, and Hank helped her plant the beds. She tended them carefully, stoking the old wood stove on freezing-cold nights to keep the vulnerable sprouts warm.
She thought of the two years it would take for the seedlings to be big enough to transplant and couldn’t help wondering what her life would be like then. She knew she loved Sam but feared she was just filling a physical need for him and held no place in his heart.
She also knew she was getting stressed out, which was something she had foolishly believed would never happen after she moved to the mountains. Not only did she stay
torn over Sam but over Brian, as well. She adored him and it broke her heart to think of him having to leave his home...his father.
As Sam had told her, the weather did turn exceptionally warm by the end of February. Lines were installed, and the very first day she could use her phone, she started making calls.
It took a while to make her way through the list of people she hadn’t talked to in ages, in order to get the information she needed. Everyone wanted to know where she was, and when she told them, they had a zillion questions.
Though she didn’t ask about Kevin whenever she spoke to mutual friends, she supposed it was only natural for them to mention him. Three times she had to hear that he was now the father of a baby girl; she was pleased that it didn’t bother her at all. She didn’t even care enough about him to hold a grudge.
Her phone calls resulted in obtaining the name of Jeffrey Valcross, a doctor at Duke University who specialized in aphasia—the loss of the power of expression by speech, writing or signs.
She placed several calls to his office before she finally managed to get him on the line, and then he was in a hurry. As briefly as possible she told him of Brian’s situation.
“Well, hasn’t he been seen by a doctor there?” he asked impatiently. “I mean, you tell me he hasn’t uttered a word in sixteen months. Surely you’ve sought treatment there. Have your doctor contact me, and I’ll be glad to set up an appointment for consultation.”
She rushed to explain, “You don’t understand. He has been examined by a doctor, and he thinks it’s some kind of stress disorder that he’ll eventually get over, but advises that he be sent to O’Berry.”
“That sounds reasonable. If there’s no other explanation...”
“But I think there is,” she argued. “I think it was caused by the little boy waking up to see his mother leaving with another man, and—”
He cut her off with an exasperated sigh and said, “Then you’d be talking about psychogenic aphasia, sometimes called shock aphasia. If that’s the case, he’d need extensive therapy. Now, that’s all I can tell you right now, and I do have a busy schedule. If you want to talk more about this, make an appointment. I’m sorry to be so abrupt, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I do have to go.”
Jackie was disheartened and discouraged, because she really didn’t know any more than she did before making the phone calls. But if Sam would agree to taking Brian to Duke, then maybe Dr. Valcross could help him.
When she mentioned it, though, Sam didn’t share her enthusiasm. “I just can’t see dragging him to another doctor to hear the same thing—he needs long-term care. I hate like hell to send him away, but I don’t see that I’ve got any choice.”
She didn’t argue. What was the point? Sam was Brian’s father. He was the one to make the decisions as to his care.
She was merely the woman he made love to when the notion struck.
And, she was pained to think, that notion did not seem to be striking quite as often.
Was it her imagination, she wondered, or was Sam really pulling away from her? More and more he seemed to be holding back, somehow.
Yet she had to remind herself how he had promised nothing. So she should expect nothing... and had no cause for complaint.
But still she worried, because she loved him.
In early March she received a sizable check for her share of the profits from the Colton tree farm. With it was a contract and a letter from Sam’s accountant explaining that he had advised Sam it was only proper that they have an agreement in writing.
She immediately went to the phone and called him to ask for an explanation and said, “Libby Pratt never had a contract.”
Dan Cowley, the accountant, was polite and cordial. “That’s true. She never asked for one.”
“Whose idea was this?”
“Mine. I thought since you’re an active partner it would be best. Sam agreed, so I had my company’s attorney draw it up.”
She was really becoming indignant. “Funny he didn’t mention it to me.”
“He thought it best I handle it. Now, of course, you will want to have your attorney go over it, but it just says in writing what has always been understood verbally. You get half the profits after expenses.”
She stared at the contract she held in her shaking hand. It all seemed so cold, so formal. But what struck a nerve was how Sam hadn’t said a word. He just took it for granted, despite how she’d told him otherwise, that things would go on as they had been. “Well, Mr. Cowley,” she said finally, “the fact of the matter is I don’t want a contract, either.”
He gave a little laugh. “But that’s not good business, Ms. Lundigan. It was a sentimental thing with Ms. Pratt, I believe. You see, I knew all about her owning the land. The family had to take me into their confidence because I handle their books, and they knew I’d never tell anybody. But I did advise them, many times, to get something in writing. It’s just good business. They didn’t listen. Apparently Sam has seen the wisdom. And after all,” he added, “it’s to your benefit.”
“Is it now?” She wondered if Sam had set it up to protect his interest when the day came she went out on her own. They hadn’t discussed it, and she had put off telling him till spring, figuring he had enough on his mind with having to make the decision about sending Brian away.
As Dan Cowley talked on, trying to convince her to go along with the contract, she read the rest of the pages she had only glanced at before. Then the clause about the trees on her land leaped out at her.
Sam wanted half of them. The agreement would be that should she, at any time, decide not to renew the contract, then he would receive half of the profit from the sale of the trees growing on her property at that time, in compensation for labor.
“No way,” she cried.
Dan Cowley was in the middle of a sentence and cut himself off to ask, “I beg your pardon?”
“This is something Sam should have discussed with me first. I’ve nothing else to say to you, Mr. Cowley.”
She hung up the phone and laughed at the ludicrousness of it all, to keep from bursting into tears.
It was time to have Mr. Burkhalter give her the name of the lawyer he had mentioned the last time they had talked. She was sure she was going to need him when Sam found out she had refused to sign. She might even find herself embroiled in a lawsuit, because he obviously was not going to give up his claim on several thousand trees that he had planted. They might have talked about it before, but never for a minute did she take him seriously. She could not survive on the share she would receive after he took his cut.
And, with fists clenched, she cursed herself for ever having thought all of this would be just one, happy adventure.
She wondered how soon she would hear from Sam, but didn’t have long to wait. He phoned within the hour.
Without fanfare, he got right to the point. “Dan says you won’t sign the contract.”
She bounced right back. “And your point is?”
“I want to know why.”
“I don’t like some of your terms. I’m going to see my own lawyer.”
“What is it you object to, Jackie?” She could tell he was really agitated.
“Well,” she began, heart pounding to hear his voice, regardless of the mood he was in, “I want to branch out on my own and start my own farm, beginning now. I know there won’t be any profit for a while, but I plan to go back to work.”
“Jackie, this doesn’t make sense.”
It did to her. It was her lifeline to keeping her perspective, when she ultimately had to accept the fact that she was his lover and nothing more. And that meant she had to be able to take care of herself, because she sure as heck couldn’t depend on him to do it. Sooner or later the right woman would come along. He’d get married. And then what would she be to him? Nothing but his ex-lover and half owner of the farm. So she had to have independence if she were to survive.
“It makes sense to me,” she said finally. “It’s how I wan
t it, Sam. It’s how it has to be. You and I—” she hesitated, then plunged ahead to say with all candor “—need to keep our personal lives separate from business. I’m afraid we haven’t been doing a very good job of that.”
“Maybe not, but your going out on your own is poor judgment, Jackie. You won’t make it without me and my operation. Besides, regardless of what’s between us personally, I can’t let you do it.”
“You can’t stop me. And I read the clause about your wanting half my trees for the labor of having planted them. Well, what about the ones on yours? Was half the expense of those deducted from Libby’s checks and the one I just received? If so, I want half the profit.”
“This,” he said icily, “is getting out of hand. And I told Dan not to put that clause in there, but evidently he forgot.”
“Or maybe you just forgot to tell him,” she snapped.
“Jackie, this is ridiculous.”
“Only because you’ve made it so.”
His sigh was loud, long and exaggerated. “Look, we need to talk. I haven’t said anything, because I was hoping you were just fooling around, but Hank told me about helping you set up the old hothouse and plant seedlings. I’d seen the smoke coming out of the chimney and, again, didn’t say anything, but evidently this is something you’ve been planning behind my back for a long time, and I’d like to know why.”
“Because...” She was floundering. She had kept it from him, but only due to her fear that at any time he would end what was between them. She had wanted something to fall back on if that happened, only she didn’t have the nerve to tell him so. Then he would know what her pride would not allow her to tell him—that she had fallen in love with him.
“Oh, hell,” she said finally, “I don’t know. I guess because when you come right down to it, it wasn’t any of your business.”
“I think,” he said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, “that maybe we should just let the lawyers handle it. I guess we didn’t spend enough time talking and never really knew each other at all.”
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