Walland
Page 16
She bit him along his neck and sucked at his earlobe, knowing full well she was taking him to the edge when he quickened the pace again, his hands grasping her bottom, grinding her fully against him. Her hands reached back behind her and she grazed his inner thighs with her fingernails, hearing the sharp intake of his breath. But it wasn’t until they’d reached the summit and suddenly stopped moving, looking into each other’s eyes in complete stillness, that they crashed into each other so powerfully, they had to hold on for dear life.
There was nothing left to say. They spent the rest of that night letting their bodies do the talking. Sleep never occurred to them.
The sun rose much too quickly that next morning.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
They’d gotten up at seven and started the coffeepot, moving out to the screened-in porch to spend their last few moments together. Wyatt was sitting on the day bed, and India snuggled against him, nestled between his legs, her cheek against his chest. He’d wrapped the comforter from the bed around them both, keeping the morning chill at bay. Wyatt held her tightly, stroking her back, as she let her fingers trail through the hair on his chest.
He leaned down to kiss her forehead, his hands smoothing her hair.
“No matter what, I’ll be grateful for this week I’ve had with you for the rest of my life.”
India couldn’t lift her head to look at him. She could feel his heartbeat, and she felt her own chest tighten at his words. She didn’t want to leave him. They’d made love all night until they lay weak, and now she could feel her resolve slipping away. What if she didn’t leave? She had a feeling that she could be fulfilled in a way she’d never been if she could just stay with Wyatt. She’d accomplished so much in her career, and it had never given her the peace that being with this man did.
And that terrified her.
She’d carefully planned out her life, and it had worked, for the most part, up until this week.
She hadn’t seen this coming.
She wondered if this was how her parents had felt. Her mother had been a bit of a gypsy. She’d traveled all over the world with a backpack as her only companion for most of her late teens and early twenties. She’d found temporary work in each new city, making enough money to see what she wanted to see, before moving on to a new place or experience.
She’d told India how she’d met her father in an ashram in the Panchagiri Hills, where they’d both traveled for a self-development program. They were young, and it was love at first sight. Her mother told her they’d become so intertwined with each other during those early days that they’d almost completely surrendered their own individual identities. She’d gotten pregnant with India right away but didn’t realize it at first.
They’d left the ashram, traveling around Europe after that, before coming home to the States. It wasn’t long after her mother revealed she was expecting that India’s father decided he didn’t want to be a parent. It wasn’t part of his journey, he said. He left, only returning briefly for the birth of his daughter and staying long enough to name her. They never saw him or heard from him again after that.
India knew that she, and her name, served as a constant reminder of everything that her mother had sacrificed. Her mother’s depression was born the same day as her only child.
She’d mourned her freedom for the rest of her life.
Now, India wondered if she was making the same mistake. She felt consumed by Wyatt, finding it impossible to get clarity while she was with him. She knew that she would regret not giving herself the chance to be absolutely sure before making a decision that could alter the course of her life forever. She would never let herself end up like her mother.
She didn’t love him any less. She was just choosing to love herself too. She owed them both absolute clarity.
India reached up and stroked his cheek. Looking into his eyes, she didn’t need to say anything at all. They could feel the love between them now, unspoken.
This kiss was different. There was an urgency, a desperation. She felt his need for her and reached down to caress him.
He inhaled at her touch, sure he would never get enough. He scooped her up off the day bed and carried her inside, the comforter still wrapped around both of them.
Wyatt set her down on the edge of the bed, India sitting up to face him. He stood before her, gazing into her eyes for a moment, before claiming her mouth. The taste of her was everything to him, and he worked hard to memorize the sensation of her hands on his body. An hour without her would be difficult. Weeks would be excruciating. He hoped she’d find it just as impossible.
He had one final thought as he fit inside her, watching her face recognize their union. He knew what it was to feel happy again, and she had been responsible for giving him that gift. He loved her infinitely in that moment.
Violet and Rex had just finished breakfast when they heard the soft knock on the door. Sadie was still asleep, so Violet tiptoed across the room and turned the handle quietly. What she saw was heartbreaking.
India and Wyatt were standing on the porch, unaware of her presence. The look they were exchanging was wistful, their hands clasped together as they waited for her. Wyatt was pale, and it looked like neither of them had slept for days.
She cleared her throat to get their attention.
“I’m glad you came to say good-bye,” she told India, opening the screen door to let them in.
They turned to Violet.
“Oh, we didn’t hear you,” India said. “I wanted to stop by and wish you guys safe travels, and to say thank you for everything. This week has been incredible.”
Violet reached out and pulled India into an embrace. Wyatt felt even sicker than he had already, the knot in his stomach growing by the minute. He moved around the women, heading into the kitchen to stand with Rex to give them a moment.
“It’s been our pleasure getting to know you, India. I hope you’ll be back . . . sooner than later. I can’t help thinking that you belong here, somehow.” Violet gave her a sad smile. “But I guess that’s for you to decide,” she added.
India wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt him, Violet. I just need to be sure. But I want you to know how much I love him. He’s the most incredible person I’ve ever known. Thank you for being such a good friend to him.”
Wyatt had helped himself to a glass of water in the kitchen and was staring out the window at the fog lingering over the meadow. Rex clapped him on the shoulder.
“You OK, man? I know this can’t be easy.”
Wyatt shook his head, at a loss for words. Rex poured himself more coffee and leaned back against the counter.
“She’ll be back. I’m no psychic, but even I can see that what y’all have is special. Give her the space to realize it for herself. Have faith, brother.”
Wyatt knew Rex was right. Their time was up, and all Wyatt had now was faith. He hoped it was enough.
They had just finished loading India’s luggage into Olive when they saw Susan and Finn walking toward them, hand in hand, from the direction of the garden.
“We didn’t want to miss our chance to say good-bye,” Finn said as they got closer. “Besides, my wife needed to come out and give me a few ideas about how to do things better in my gardens. Day one and she’s already nagging me.”
Susan laughed, nudging him as she let go of his hand to walk toward India, taking the girl’s hands into her own.
“I’m so glad to have met you, my dear. I hope you enjoyed your time here with us.”
Susan smiled at the two of them, trying hard to ignore the devastated look on Wyatt’s face.
“I’ll look forward to seeing you in New York in a couple of weeks. Finn and I are making a honeymoon out of it when we come in for the interview. I do hope you’ll be doing it?”
Susan kissed India on the cheek, reaching over and squeezing Wyatt’s hand in the process. India smiled and collected herself.
“I’m so
glad to hear that you’re both coming. I am doing the interview; they sent me a text with the details this morning. I’ll look forward to seeing you both. And thank you. For everything.”
India turned toward Wyatt.
“But most of all for raising this man. He’s remarkable.”
She reached up and gave him a tender kiss.
Finn smiled in agreement. “He’s alright once you get to know him,” he joked.
They laughed together before the four of them hugged and said their good-byes.
Wyatt helped her into the truck one last time, taking a deep breath as he walked around to his side. It would be the fastest trip to the airport he’d ever known.
The terminal was busy as he pulled up alongside the curb. Wyatt made sure India’s luggage was taken care of by the skycap before turning to meet her gaze. He struggled to say the words he’d been preparing for this moment.
She could see that he was fighting back emotion; she’d lost her own battle. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at this man she’d fallen so deeply in love with. She reached up, kissing him one last time. It was Wyatt who pulled back, taking her hands in his.
“I won’t call you, but I can’t promise that I won’t be thinking of you every moment.” He took a ragged breath and said what he knew he had to. “Please don’t call me unless you’re absolutely sure you want to be with me. I don’t know if I can handle anything less than that. Know that I love you, India. More than any man has ever loved any woman. But I want you to be happy, and if being in New York makes you happier, then I’m going to have to accept that. I would never ask you to give up your career. But my life is in Tennessee, at least for the next year, and who knows after that? So I’m going to do what Rex suggested to me this morning. I’m going to have faith in us. But I’ll always be here, loving you, no matter what.”
He reached up to wipe her tears away. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment longer.
She kissed him good-bye then, turning to walk into the terminal while she still had the strength to do so.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
It had been much harder to leave than India had thought it would be. She’d had to physically restrain herself from running back out to him, watching from just inside the sliding doors as he’d stood there for a moment before turning to get into his truck. The look on his face broke her heart, because he looked like she felt.
Devastated.
It had only been a week, but her entire universe had shifted on its axis, and everything felt different now.
She barely remembered the flight home, staring out the window of the plane the entire way, reliving every second of their time together. The flight was bumpy, but instead of worrying about it the way she normally would have, she cranked up her music and thought about him.
Alanis Morissette suggested they’d be simple together.
If only.
India hadn’t even realized they’d landed until someone tapped her on the shoulder.
“Honey, he must really be something. I haven’t seen anyone that distracted in a long time.”
The flight attendant flashed a smile at India, but as India turned toward her, the woman could see that whatever she’d been thinking about was also causing her pain.
“Do you need any help, sweetie?”
India shook her head and stood to gather her bags.
“No . . . thank you. I’m OK. I mean . . . I will be. I’m just ready to go home.”
Which wasn’t exactly true. She couldn’t have explained why, but New York felt like the opposite of home to her now.
Her first week back at work had been awful. She wasn’t sleeping well to begin with, her dreams fraught with nightmares. In one recurring nightmare, India was stuck on a steep trail, and Wyatt was on the edge of a cliff just above her. He was reaching out for her, begging her to take his hand. No matter how many ways she tried, she couldn’t quite reach. Every time she’d get close, he would disappear, leaving her standing there alone in the woods. She’d wake up drenched in sweat, her pillow soaked with tears.
India had grown accustomed to the peace and quiet of Tennessee, so it was difficult for her to reenter the hive of humanity called Manhattan. Even her apartment felt strange now. She’d always loved the soaring windows in her living room, overlooking the Guggenheim and Central Park, believing they’d somehow brought the outdoors in. Now she realized it was all relative. What had once felt like welcome green space was now a sad and suffocating substitute. She missed the tang of wood smoke and the solitude of the mornings on the porch. Her bed seemed enormous, his absence like a chasm on the other side.
She’d always loved running in the city, but even that simple pleasure had inexplicably changed. The sidewalks seemed to confine her, and she found it hard to find a rhythm, even though she’d taken to running at night when she couldn’t sleep. She’d stop and look up at the sky, hoping that at least it would look the same, the thought of Wyatt under the same blanket of stars bringing her small comfort.
But there were no stars in the city, the lights and pollution and buildings keeping them at bay.
At work, her colleagues welcomed her back, but she could tell that, even though the network had stepped up and invited her back, the small seed that Jack had planted was enough to take root in the fertile minds of her fellow journalists.
People questioned how exactly she and Jack had happened to be at the same resort at the same time, and she couldn’t bring herself to put forth the effort to convince them that it was purely coincidental. And so, the question remained unanswered, her coworkers drawing their own conclusions. India was going through the motions, and it didn’t take long for her bosses to notice.
A week after she got back, they’d called her in to the executive offices for a meeting. After chastising her for her rather lackluster performance, they reminded her of the upcoming piece on Blackberry Farm. The interviews were scheduled for the following day in Studio B, and she would indeed be conducting them herself. India was stunned to hear that it was happening so soon. She’d thought it was on the schedule for the following week. She felt her pulse quicken.
“Who’s coming from Blackberry Farm . . . is it Susan Eden?” She found herself hoping that there might be a last-minute replacement. Someone . . . newer to the staff.
Perhaps a photographer?
Stanley Ruff, the president of the news department, confirmed that it was indeed Susan.
“We’re very lucky, though. She’s bringing her new husband with her, who I’m sure you know happens to be the master gardener. We’d like you to interview both of them for the piece.”
India smiled, trying to ignore the disappointment she felt. Of course he wouldn’t come.
“That’s great. I’m glad they’re both available; they’re lovely people, and Finn Janssen will make for great television. He’s very smart but very folksy. They’ve both been at the farm for over forty years. What a win for us.”
She stood to go, but then turned back toward her boss.
“Thanks for doing this piece, Stan. You saved my behind, but it’s also going to be a really solid story.” Stanley waved his hand.
“Don’t mention it, kid. I’ve been in this business a long time. And I’ve known Jack Sterling since he was still wet behind the ears. This nonsense will all blow over; you’ll see. Viewers have very short memories. It’s how we’re able to recycle so many stories and make them new again. Turns out, there really isn’t more than one way to skin a cat, but we can make people think there is with a new hook and some smoke and mirrors.”
India stared at him. In that moment, he’d managed to trivialize everything she’d worked so hard for and believed in for so long. It was the ugly underbelly of the business. Then again, maybe she was just being sensitive.
“Thank again, Stan,” she said, moving toward the door. He stood up from behind his desk.
“Oh, and, India? We need to get that interview about you and Jack on the sche
dule as well. The tell-all you promised us? Once you fill in all the details viewers have been clamoring for, it will definitely help put the rumors to rest. Let’s plan on having you do a sit-down with one of the anchors next week.”
India felt nauseous. She’d assumed the network would want to avoid any further mention of Jack, but they were obviously amenable if it stood to give them a ratings bump. It was hard to imagine a scenario in which she could come out of this with a shred of her dignity intact. She’d sold her soul to the devil, all right.
India agreed, smiling meekly as she left Stan’s office, and closed the door behind her.
Wyatt was frustrated with himself for being so weak. He’d managed to make it eight days without succumbing to the temptation of finding a television set so he could catch a glimpse of her. He knew it would just make things worse, but every morning it was a struggle not to allow himself that small consolation. Since she’d gone, he’d tried and failed a thousand times to take his mind off her.
He couldn’t outrun her. He’d need a new pair of shoes by next week if he kept up his current pace. On every trail, she was right there beside him, her memory woven into every passing landmark. The Yallerhammer. The fishing shack. Even the hiking trails were unexpected reminders of her.
Wyatt had offered to take Violet, Rex, and Sadie to the airport a few days earlier, not realizing the emotions that little field trip would trigger. He’d driven away afterward feeling like he’d been punched in the gut once more. He didn’t care to ever set foot in that terminal again.
He’d tried working in the garden, but the sight of Woodshed was almost more than he could bear, and Finn knew it. The day before he and Susan left for New York, he’d assigned Wyatt an errand that he knew would take him off the farm the next morning, giving him some breathing space to clear his head.
Wyatt was at the counter of the hardware store in Knoxville, reaching for his wallet to pay for the supplies Finn had requested, when he glanced up and his heart skipped a beat.