Arriving in Clermont City, by rail then coach, Jacob went straight to the park. He was eager to dive into importing. However, his funds were still not up to par, and life had shown no mercy. He wanted to get away and find perspective. Leaving Will with the business, he decided he had to see Jessica. This time, it would be without the fanfare of last summer.
Writing to her last month to arrange their meeting, he hoped she would receive the letter from his mother before his arrival. Jacob knew he was taking the risk of having Frederick find out, but he had taken many risks in his life and for far lesser reasons.
Waiting for what seemed like hours on the wooden bench in the park, the midday heat made him restless. Finally, his mind was made up. She was in San Francisco with her husband. My letter never reached her, or worse, Frederick had found out. Did I put her in danger? Thinking he had made a foolish decision and wasteful mistake he abandoned his plan. Walking toward the bridge, he spotted a woman standing on the other end of the curved overpass. His heart rose in his chest. They walked toward each other and met in the middle.
Taking her hand in his he felt it tremble. He cupped it with his other hand and gazed into her dark, soulful, brown eyes. He cleared his dry throat. “You look beautiful.”
“I’m happy, Jacob. I can’t believe you’re here.”
A squeeze of her hand melted his heart, yet her peace dismayed him. “How have you come to such happiness? Frederick?” He’d never felt more vulnerable.
Jessica laughed. “No, not at all. He’s no longer my husband. I’m a divorced woman.”
Jacob was dumbstruck. “Oh, I didn’t expect to hear that.” Searching for a private spot, he led them to an empty bench shaded by a large tree. “Let’s sit, and you must tell me all about it.”
She gave a summary of her life since they’d last seen each other. Her struggles, her victories, her art and studio, all of it–except the baby.
“You are a marvel, Jess. If not for the fact that … I mean, if we were free to, I would ask you to. …” He stopped short, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“I understand, Jacob. Our circumstances haven’t changed. I’m not giving up, though.”
He smiled and lifted one eyebrow. “You give this hardened man a reason to hope.” Wanting to disappear into her laughter, he saw her beautiful eyes peering into the distance.
“I feel as free as a woman can be these days. I never thought that would happen, and now the world is full of possibilities. It’s a lovely feeling, though my parents have made it clear that I’m a great disappointment to them. Along with your parents, they’re holding their breaths until I find another husband.”
“I’m sure my parents are holding their breaths for me, too. Are you looking to marry again?”
She became thoughtful and he waited, his mind and heart needing to hear her answer. “Not at the moment.” It was sufficient for him–for now.
“Your brother has not disappointed. Will is probably getting married soon.”
“My brother has found a wife?” Her wide-eyed expression delighted Jacob.
“It’s Mi, the woman who nursed him back to health.”
“Yes, the Chinese woman you mentioned in your letter. I must say, we are a trio of misfits.” She gave a soft laugh.
Although Jacob welcomed her levity, he became self-conscious at the mention of his letter. “Apparently, Mi had more feelings for him than either had let on.”
“Is she of good standing?”
“Her family owns a Chinese restaurant in Portland. They rejected her after she told them she was intent on marrying a non-Chinese. Her father nearly shot Will, and the two of us had to run for our lives.”
Jessica closed her eyes, then opened them. “I swear, the two of you. … But oh, the poor girl. The world can be so unfair.”
“Yes, it can be.” He entwined his fingers around hers. “Here’s the bigger news—she’s pregnant.”
Jessica gasped. “Oh!”
Giving her a moment to take in the information about Will, he moved closer. “Jessica, I’m striving to make something of myself. Will and I are going into a legitimate business. It will take a while, but I’m confident it will be a success. You have compelled me to do better. I want you to be proud of me.” He nervously waited for her response.
“I’m already proud of you, Jacob. Proud of your spirit and your courage. What you must have gone through out there in the wilderness, and … and still do.”
Her words struck a nerve for he was not that man. “You must already know I brought every bit of it on myself. I have no reason to complain or be proud of what I’ve done. What I’m trying to tell you is that someday I will be worthy of a woman like you.”
She pursed her lips and he wanted to devour them. “I see. Am I so worthy? A divorced woman? A painter?”
“Jess, don’t look at me that way. You’re everything I want. I don’t care if you’re a divorced woman. Hell, I’m very happy to hear that you are.”
~
Their eyes locked, and they were again lost in each other, a place Jessica felt she had come home to. She couldn’t have wished for more than to be sitting beside her true love, his eyes looking into hers. His hair was short and neat. His clothes were new, and he looked less rugged than the last time she saw him. “You look well, Jacob.”
Slapping his pants, he laughed. “I cleaned up for ya.” Then a sly smile came over his face.
“What is it?”
“Well, you said you have a studio? Is it … private?”
Lowering her head, her cheeks became warm. With a fluttering heart, she smoothed the skirt of her dress. “Yes.”
Jacob stood and extended his arm to her. “I would very much like to see your art studio, Cousin.”
Desire bloomed in her, breaking through the cocoon she had woven for protection. She looked around as if the world had read her mind. “I’d be happy to show you the new piece I’ve been working on.”
Taking his arm with dignity, she gave him a polite and charming smile. “Oh, Cousin it is good of you to take an interest in my hobby,” she remarked as two women walked by and nodded to them.
He came closer to her and whispered in her ear, “I take an interest in you.”
The warmth of his breath was about to undo her when he pulled her along, laughing.
Her feet practically left the ground. The moment of heavy desire had been lightened. She could walk to her studio without feeling as if she were about to explode.
Relieved the garbage had been removed regularly, Jessica looked at Jacob surveying the concrete-walled space. The place smelled only of art supplies and summer flowers, and she was proud of her studio. “Is this some kind of a root cellar?” He chuckled.
Jessica furrowed her brows and glanced at the unfinished walls. “It’s my art studio, Jacob.”
When he nodded his head to acknowledge his approval, she relaxed her shoulders. Although she didn’t need it, she was happy he could appreciate what she had accomplished. He inspected her canvases–some with splashes of color, some prepped for color, one half-finished, another almost completed–then to the watercolor painting on a small, angled easel propped on a table. “You’ve always had the talent, Jess. These are remarkable. I hope you’re making some pennies from your work.”
“Pennies? Why, I’ll have you know, I make more than mere pennies.”
There was a glint in Jacob’s eyes.
“Are you going to tease me?” she asked coyly.
Jacob raked his hand through his hair. “I’m very proud of you, Jess.” He stood closer to her now. He bent down and put his mouth to her ear. “Is there a lock to that door?”
The darkened, brass ring gave a screech when Jessica turned it. The pulse of her blood surged through her body. Then his hands were on her waist, and she gave a soft moan. Turning around to face him, she saw the man she loved smiling at her. The fullness of his lips was as welcome as spring after the dead of winter. A puff of air escaped his shirt, and the musk of him
made her legs go weak. The thin carpet was splattered with paint. The hard chair was the only place to sit.
He slid his body across her chest and reached over for the chair, swinging it to set it down before them.
Sitting upright on the wooden seat, he spread out his legs and her breath hitched. Placing her hands on the back of the chair, she watched his fingers unbutton her blouse, then untie her camisole laces, exposing her chest. She leaned in closer, and he gently kissed each breast sweetly and unhurried. Fingering the buttons on his shirt, she undid each one then helped him remove it from his muscular chest. He kicked off his boots and lifted his hips for her to release him from his pants. Unhooking her skirt and petticoat, she let them fall to the floor, tossing them aside with her foot. No corset to untie and no pantaloons to remove, she straddled him on the chair. Their flesh met, their giggles muffled by their strong passionate kisses. Soon they were in the world they had created so long ago. The chair rocked hard while they satisfied their lust. It tipped, and Jessica braced herself for impact when Jacob brought her gently to the floor. Her body felt the hard concrete beneath the carpet, but she did not care. The timelessness of their love took her to a place where there were no rules, no judgments, only freedom.
With a sigh of contentment, she rested her head on his chest. It rose and fell with his breathing. His smooth skin and delicious smell were all hers. Then a sudden wave of sadness struck her. It invaded her heart like an unwelcome enemy, one she had bargained with many times, one she knew would never completely leave her be—grief. Jacob must have felt the tightening of her body for he pulled away.
“Jess?”
She stared up at him. “Oh, Jacob.”
The look of concern on his face struck a chord—he had to know. Through the sting of her tears, she said the words she had carried in her for so long. “I carried your child, our child, but it did not make it. I lost it in January after I left Frederick.” Barely able to breathe, she waited for his response. A moment passed and he did not move. She wanted to fall into the earth.
Raising on one elbow, Jacob looked down at her. “What are you saying?” His expression was one of confusion and disbelief. Her skin went cold. Then he took her body into his. “I’m so sorry, Jessica, I’m so sorry. But, how can you know it was mine? What about Frederick?”
“He’s sterile.”
Jacob blew out a breath. “Please forgive me. I wasn’t here for you.” Finally able to share her pain with him, she let his strong arms hold some of her sadness. He rocked her and they wept together. Above her head, she heard him mumble, “I love you. I would have loved our baby.”
In a hiccup of emotion, she whispered, “Jacob, let’s always be together, in our own way.”
Caressing her face, she heard his vow. “Yes, always, always.” The quiet deepness of his voice etched the words onto her soul.
A soft breeze drifted in through the small window and lifted the sheer curtain, whispering the promise of another summer.
THE END
Acknowledgments
Without the help of others, this book would not be possible. Thank you to all the beta readers who took the time to read my first, second, and third drafts. Your honesty and encouragement gave me wings.
Thank you to Carrie (Andrews) and Susan Jacob, who plodded through my whole 265,000-word trilogy. Your help and advice was the beginning of my awakening as a writer. Thank you, Dorothy Galloway and Houlton Madinger, for your keen eye and great feedback.
A special thanks to my developmental editor, Julie Christine Johnson. Her accomplishments are many and include her own works: In Another Life and The Crows of Beara. You are very skillful at what you do. You showed me what a story should look and feel and taste like. It turned the corner for me as a writer and gave me the self-confidence and the strength to continue until I got it right.
Thank you to my cover designer and formatter, Jane Dixon-Smith. You brought the book to life with your beautiful design. Also, thank you for your patience through all of my changes.
Thank you, Joyce Mochrie, owner of One Last Look, for helping me bring my novel to its very best version. Your meticulous proofreading and copy editing is outstanding. You saved my novel! I am so fortunate to have you on my team.
What a joy it is to work with such talented women!
Last, but never least, is my family. Loving thanks to my wonderful daughters, Star and Heidi, for their love and support. You always encouraged me to move forward. Thank you Beth, my sister, my friend, my soul mate. Your help and insights were so appreciated. Thank you to my brother, Earl, for believing in me. Thank you, Nathan, for always asking me when my book will get published so you can read it. How does a four-year-old care about such things? You did and you still do even at thirteen. Someday you will finally be old enough to read Memaw’s book. Thank you to the rest of my grandchildren–Dylan, Liam, Miles, and Dalila. Without knowing it, you inspire me to be the best I can be. Thank you to my husband, Jeff. My life took a turn and there you were, loving, understanding, honest, and forever supporting my dreams. Thank you Wilson and Tommy for understanding why I was sometimes late feeding you. I know cats don’t like that.
I am so grateful to have such love and support surrounding me.
Veronica Mahara is the maiden name of Veronica Stoneman who lives with her husband and two cats surrounded by her family and the beauty of the Pacific Northwest. To find out more about the author and future publications visit: veronicasunmahara.com
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