"You say that now."
"Because it's the truth!"
"You don't know what the truth is now. You're confused by this thing between us."
"No, Jared. I'm not the one who's confused. I know exactly what I want and I'm—"
"Yoo-hoo! Anybody back there?" The voice came from down the hall. Someone was shouting from out in the bar.
"We're getting thirsty out here!" a different voice called in a syrupy singsong.
Jared let go of her. "We have to go. Now." He turned.
"But, Jared—"
"We are parched out here!" It was a chorus of voices now.
"Can it! I'm coming!" Jared shouted back.
"Oh, Jared—"
But as usual, she was speaking to thin air.
* * *
Things stayed reasonably busy until eleven, and then the place pretty much cleared out. Jared, by that time, was so withdrawn and uncommunicative that Eden felt a bottomless weariness every time she glanced his way. He seemed farther away from her now than he had two weeks ago, when they'd made that futile agreement to steer clear of each other.
She had no idea what to do to get through to him. And, for tonight anyway, she decided she was just plain tired of trying. A good night's sleep would probably be the best thing for her right now. And they didn't have to work tomorrow. There would be time to hash out this whole mess then.
Since Rocky and a few other diehards were still hanging around, she spoke in an offhand way, "Jared, if you don't need me, I think I'll go on home."
He turned and looked at her, searing her, as he always did, with his gaze. But his answer was as casual as her request. "Sure. Go ahead. I can handle this."
She wiped the tables and washed up the dirty glasses and took one more round of orders from the boys in the back room. By eleven-thirty she was waving goodbye.
Ten minute later, she pulled into the little garage by the cabin. She left the car, trudged up the stone steps and went straight to the bedroom, shedding her clothes as she went.
She took a long, relaxing bath. And then she put on her sleep shirt and crawled into the bed she hadn't even had time to make that morning.
It was a warm night, though not as warm as that first night, when Jared had sneaked into her room and frightened her so badly. She pulled up the sheet and a light blanket to cover her.
The sheet smelled of their lovemaking. And her pillow smelled of Jared.
Eden snuggled down and put her arms around the pillow. She was fast asleep in minutes.
* * *
When Jared left The Hole in the Wall at 2:23 a.m., he knew very well what he should do. He should drive straight to his father's house and go right to bed in the spare bedroom. That was where he belonged while he was staying in North Magdalene.
But Jared wasn't doing much of what he should do lately.
And tonight—hell, this morning by now—was no exception. He found that his damn pickup suddenly had some kind of a magnet attached to it. The magnet pulled him, relentlessly, to the cabin by the river.
He stopped underneath the fir tree, which seemed to have become his parking space now, since her car was in the garage. He shut off the engine and lights and just sat there in the dark for a while, staring at the shadow of the cabin beneath the star-dusted sky.
This was bad. This was hell. He wanted to throw back his head and howl his longing at the moon.
But there was no moon. It had gone down hours ago. And he'd been through enough in his life that he should have known better than to let this happen to him.
But some men, evidently, were fools their whole lives long. They never learned their lesson. And Jared was becoming more and more certain that he was one of the fools. He had loved his first wife. Sally had been his high school sweetheart. He'd married her right after they graduated. Loving Sally had been like breathing, the kind of love he never even questioned. With Sally, he was doing what a man did: find his woman and marry her and provide for the children he got from her. Both his mother, bless her soul, and his rogue of a father had taught him that.
If he'd had resentments at the way duty ruled his life, he had conquered them, when he conquered drinking with the help of A.A. and regained his wife and child. Things had been fine.
Then he'd lost Sally to cold death.
He'd gone on. And he'd met Belle.
He'd wanted Belle. And he'd married her to have her, because that was what a man did. Marry. And provide.
He'd lost Belle—and the boys—to another man.
And he'd sworn he was done with women and the traps they laid.
But now there was Eden.
And he was captured, thoroughly ensnared. And he knew, in spite of his own prejudices, that she was a good woman, a woman who would stand by him, as Sally couldn't and Belle wouldn't.
Eden Parker was a woman who would keep any promise she made. Even after the magic of desire melted away and she found she was married to a man who was too old for her, a man with nothing to offer her but a pair of hardworking hands, she would keep any vow she had made to him.
And that was the problem. He'd managed somehow to survive losing Sally and Belle. But to have Eden look at him one day as nothing more than a promise she must keep would be the end of him. His dry husk of a heart would shrivel up and blow away.
Jared straightened in the seat and put his hand on the ignition key. He had to get out of there. He started the truck and flicked on the lights and drove as if demons pursued him back to his father's deserted house.
But he'd no sooner stepped down and slammed the door than he realized that the magnet he'd thought was attached to his truck, was in reality inside himself. And it was pulling him…
He didn't even bother to get back in the truck. He didn't want to park it at her place anyway, where someone might see it, and know what was going on between them. In this, at least, he could protect her, though he'd taken her innocence when he'd had no right at all to do such a thing.
Jared ran into the dark trees, not even bothering to stick to the roads. This was the country of his childhood, after all. He knew every hillock, every rise and gully. He covered the distance between Sweet Spring Way
and Bullfinch Lane
without breaking a sweat, burst out of the bushes near Sam and Delilah's place, and then crossed the road and plunged into the shadowed trees once more.
He followed the meandering curve of the river until he reached the end of Middle Fork Lane
. Breathing hard, he emerged at last from the trees into the cleared space around the cabin.
He let himself into the dark kitchen, stopping to find a glass and take a long drink before moving soundlessly through the main room to the door of her bedroom. He paused there, in the doorway, looking toward the bed.
She lay beneath the covers, her cheek resting on an arm. Her strawberry-blond hair seemed silvery in the starlight. Her skin shone like the inside of one the fancy china cups his Grandma Riley used to display in a glass cabinet in her dining room. Dire consequences had always been threatened if any unruly boy dared to get too near those precious cups.
Jared thought of the first night he'd seen Eden, when he'd come into his cabin and found her asleep in the same place she lay now. She'd been sleeping without a cover. Jared had stood and stared at her, at her long, incredible legs and the china-cup beauty of her skin. He shouldn't have done that, stared at a woman he didn't even know while she was helpless, fast asleep, unaware of him. But he'd somehow been unable to stop himself.
He'd approached the bed hardly knowing that he moved. And he'd stood there for a long while, endless minutes, just watching her sleep.
The strangest thing had come into his mind, standing there, staring in forbidden longing at a woman he didn't even know. He'd heard his own voice, inside his head, clear as if he'd spoken aloud.
The voice said, Too late. You've found her too late…
And for the first time since Sally died, Jared Jones had felt the thick heat of tears in th
e back of his throat. In the middle of the night in his own bedroom, while he watched a strange woman sleeping, he'd nearly broken down and cried.
And then she'd awakened and thrown a clock at him.
He'd managed, for a couple of weeks to push those moments when he watched her from his mind. But now, they were back with him, as he watched her once more.
Too late. You've found her too late…
On the bed, Eden stirred.
"Jared?" She sighed and turned over and then she sat up. "Jared, is that you?" She pushed her hair back from her forehead by combing her fingers through it. And then she focused on him, in the doorway. "Jared. Come to bed." Though the light from the window was behind her, he knew she was smiling.
"I shouldn't—"
She cut him off. "Jared, just for now, could you please stop talking about what you shouldn't do?" She yawned and stretched, as contented as a well-rested cat.
"Hell."
She reached out a willowy arm and beckoned him. "Come here. Come on."
He felt like a boy, suddenly. His mother used to do that—reach out to him when something was bothering him. And he'd go and she'd pull him against the side of her tall, slim body and kiss the top of his head. She'd tell him that she loved him, not to take life so seriously, that everything would be all right. Bathsheba Riley Jones had been a steadying influence on the whole crazy Jones gang. It was too bad for all of them that she'd died so young.
"Jared." Eden's voice was infinitely patient. She didn't drop her arm.
He left the doorway and went to her. She slid over a little, making room for him. He dropped to the side of the bed. Suddenly nervous, she plucked at the sheet a little, her eyes focused on his face.
"I tried not to come here," he said.
She said nothing, something of a rarity for her.
He hitched a leg up on the bed, so he could face her more fully. "I couldn't stay away."
"Good." She nodded, a satisfied little nod. "I'm glad you couldn't."
"It's just going to get worse, the more we go on with this."
Eden sighed. "But we will go on with this. Won't we?"
He looked at her for a moment, then said, "Yeah. Until one of us has the sense to break it off."
She sat up straighter, as if she'd come to some sort of decision within herself. "Okay, then. Can we make a deal, for as long as we're together?"
"What deal?" He peered at her sideways. He was a man who expected to pay full price for things. He was wary of deals.
"Can we please enjoy it while it lasts? Can you quit walking around with a frown on your face, mumbling about my reputation and acting as if someone is going to carve a scarlet letter on my forehead if they ever find out about us?"
He considered her request. "All right," he said after giving the matter the serious thought it deserved. Then he added a condition of his own. "But we're going to keep it low-key."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we won't tell anyone. About us."
Eden shook her head. "No. I won't do that. I won't pretend I don't … care for you." He didn't miss the way she hesitated over the word care. He knew the word she'd wanted to use, but hadn't. And he despised himself a little for yearning, once more, to hear that word from her lips.
"Oh, Jared." She put her hand on the side of his face in a tender caress. "Don't ask me to lie about how I feel. Please. Don't expect me to work side by side with you every night and act as if you're nothing at all to me. I couldn't bear that."
He caught her hand. "Damn it, Eden."
"Please. Can't we compromise on this?"
"What kind of compromise?" He wasn't sure he liked the sound of this.
"Well. Could we let people know we're together, but just not let on how together?"
He frowned. He was beginning to get the picture.
She hastened to clarify what he already suspected. "I mean, let them think we're dating, but keep it to ourselves that we're … lovers."
He thought about that. It just might work. The cabin was off to itself, at least a quarter of a mile from the nearest house. As long as his truck wasn't parked there all night, who would guess what went on inside?
"Personally," Eden added in a tart tone, "I think you're making a big thing out of nothing."
"You didn't grow up here."
"No, I didn't. And I respect your feelings. I do. If it's so important to you to keep our private lives private—"
"It is." When he left, he wanted her to be totally free of him, which she'd never be in North Magdalene once everyone knew he'd slept with her.
"Then, okay," she said. "I'd be willing not to tell anyone exactly how together we are, as long as you don't treat me like a stranger when you come to work at night. Agreed?" She stuck out her hand, to shake on it, as she had that night they'd agreed to stay away from each other.
He looked at her hand, his thoughts bleak. What made her think that this agreement would fare any better than the last one they'd made?
"Jared, please…"
Her voice was so soft, so full of hope and tender concern. How could he ever refuse her, even for her own good?
"Jared…"
"All right, Eden. Agreed." He took the hand she offered him.
* * *
Chapter 14
« ^ »
"Whoa. Can this really be happening? It's time for one serious reality check here." Laurie, who was stretched out on a lounge chair on Eden's deck, took a fortifying sip from her glass of wine and looked probingly at Eden through the gathering darkness. Dinner had been cleared off a half an hour before. Jared had just left them, saying he wanted to go over to Delilah's and check on his father.
Laurie went on. "Now tell it to me slowly. You and my cousin Jared—"
"Are dating. That's all." Eden gave her best imitation of an unconcerned shrug.
"That's all?" Laurie wasn't buying. "I gotta tell you, pal. The air sizzles when you two look at each other."
"We're dating," Eden said again, and knew there was a slight edge to her voice. "Period."
Laurie put up a hand in a pacifying gesture. "Okay, okay. Whatever you say."
Eden looked away.
There was a silence, one that flooded quickly with the sounds of twilight in the mountains: the chirruping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the warning whine of biting insects. A wind set the trees to whispering.
As the silence drew out, Laurie got up from her lounge chair and went to the patio table in the corner, where she poured herself another glass of wine from the bottle she'd brought.
As she poured, Laurie ventured, "I thought you said you two had an agreement…"
Eden tried her best to keep her tone offhand and casual. "We did. And it wasn't working. So we decided to, um, spend a little time together, to let things sort of … evolve…"
Laurie sipped from her glass. "I see."
"What does that does that mean, 'I see…'?"
"Wow. You are defensive about this."
"I'd just like to know what you meant when you said 'I see,' that's all."
"Well, Eden, I meant just what I said, that I understand. But—"
"But what?"
"Well, I guess that letting things evolve just doesn't sound like something anyone could do with cousin Jared." Laurie gestured with her glass. "He's sort of an all-or-nothing kind of guy, if you know what I mean."
"No, I don't know what you mean," Eden lied. She was finding she already hated her new agreement with Jared. She wanted so badly to confide all the wonder of what she was feeling to her friend. But that was denied her, because no one was to know the true nature of what she and Jared shared.
"I mean—" Laurie dropped into her chair again "—he's sort of a caveman, cousin Jared is. You know, Me - Tarzan - you - Jane. It seems like he'd either be with a woman or not. Letting things evolve would be a little subtle for a man like him."
"Maybe you don't know him that well."
Laurie ran her finger around the rim of her
glass.
"You're right about that. I mean, I mostly think of him as Heather's wild-man dad. And then, there are all the family stories about him. But he's not the kind of person too many people ever really get to know." Laurie took another sip and then added, "Of course, Heather says he's a big pussycat, that he's really just a good man whose life didn't work out the way it should have."
Hearing what Heather thought of Jared, Eden felt a little better. It was reassuring to think that her opinion of the man she loved was also held by his only child.
Laurie snared Eden's glance. "So I've read things all wrong here, then?"
"What do you mean, all wrong?"
"I mean, it's just a casual thing."
"What do you mean, casual?"
"I mean, no grand passion?"
Eden, who was leaning against the railing, picked up a pine needle that had fallen near her elbow and pulled it in two.
"Oh, wow," Laurie said softly. She sipped again from her glass. "You told him you wouldn't talk about it, right?"
Eden nodded, staring down at the two-sections of pine needle as if she didn't know how they'd gotten into her hands.
"You love him?" her friend asked. It wasn't really a question.
Eden nodded again.
"Does he love you back?"
"I believe he does. He's just … fighting it."
Laurie said quietly, "If he hurts you, I'll murder him. The rest of the family will help me."
That made Eden laugh.
"Believe it," Laurie told her. "It's true. If he breaks your heart, he's done for."
"Heather's right about him, Laurie. He's a good man. He really is."
"Nobody said he wasn't."
"But he's absolutely sure he's through with women and with love."
"So what's he doing with you, then?"
"He's confused. He's attracted to me. But he thinks he'd be bad for me, in the long run."
Laurie set her glass on the small deck table near her chair. "Eden, I have to tell you. When it comes to running a restaurant or a tavern there's no one as savvy as you are. But in romance, we both know you're no expert. And cousin Jared is not The Hole in the Wall. You can't … renovate a broken-down heart."
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