Her eyes narrowed slowly.
Jacob had known.
With something between an oath and a groan, Clair tossed the pictures on the sofa. Fisting her hands, she stood and began to pace, muttering to herself as she strode back and forth across the living room of her hotel suite. Jacob had been fully aware of the guilt and shame she’d felt at running out on her wedding the way she had. She’d felt as if she’d let everyone who loved and trusted her down.
He’d known how miserable she’d been, and still he hadn’t told her!
Well, she had a few things to say to Mr. Jacob Carver. She’d track him down like the dog he was and then she’d tell him he could go straight to—
The knock on her door had her whirling. Grace and Hannah were going to get an earful about his, Clair thought as she threw the door open.
“Wait until you—”
Her mind went blank when it was Jacob standing there, not her future sisters-in-law.
He lifted a brow. “Until I what?”
“You.”
Jeez. Jacob had imagined several different scenarios of how Clair would react when she saw him—anger, joy, even a cool calm—but this, this wild fury caught him completely off guard.
“Clair, is something—”
She started to slam the door, but he managed to get his boot in the way before it could close. She’d already turned on her heels and stomped across the living room to the sofa. She picked up a handful of pictures, stomped back toward him and threw them at him. They fluttered to the ground.
“What in the world is wrong with—”
He caught a glimpse of one of the photos that had landed faceup.
“Oh.”
Dammit, dammit. He’d completely forgotten about the pictures he’d taken of Oliver and the blond bimbo. He never would have given her that roll of film if he had.
No wonder Clair was so hot.
Crossing her arms, she faced him, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
So much for the carefully thought out speech he’d prepared driving here. In the blink of an eye, he and Clair were running in a different direction than the one he’d planned.
And why did that not surprise him?
Closing the door behind him, he squared off with her. “Because after you ran out of that church, you had enough to deal with,” he said simply.
She lifted her chin and pointed it at him. “You knew, had pictures of my fiancé having an affair, and you kept it from me.”
“I just told you, I didn’t think—”
“You certainly didn’t think, buster.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “You let me wallow in my guilt, worry that I’d left poor Oliver standing at the altar, when all along he was sleeping with Susan—my best friend, for God’s sake!”
“And if I had told you that the jerk was cheating on you,” he said irritably, “do you really think you would have felt better? You’d just found out that your parents had been lying to you your entire life. Did you really need to know that the man you nearly married and your so-called ‘best friend’ were lying, as well?”
“It isn’t a question of whether I’d feel better or not. It’s about the truth. I needed the truth.” She flounced away from him, throwing her arms out in frustration, then suddenly she turned back, her eyes wide. “Oliver knew you knew, didn’t he? That’s why he called your motel room before he called mine. He wanted to talk to you before me, so he could find out if you’d told me.”
“I have no idea why he called.” Lord, she was beautiful all riled up like this, Jacob thought. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes flashed blue sparks. “You spoke to him, remember? Not me.”
“I’ll just bet he offered you money not to tell me, didn’t he?” She moved close, the expression on her face daring him to lie. “How much?”
He was getting angry now, the last thing he’d come here to do. But she wanted the truth, so he’d give it to her. “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”
She went still at the figure, then her mouth dropped open. “Twenty…five…thousand?”
“And another twenty thousand to bring you back to Charleston.”
Because her knees were too weak to hold her, Clair stumbled backward to the sofa, then sat. It felt as if all the blood had drained from her face, and with it, some of her fury. She was simply too stunned to be angry.
“You didn’t take it,” she whispered. She knew he hadn’t, could see it in his eyes, could feel it in her heart. “Why?”
“He tried to buy you back,” Jacob said tightly. “Like you were a car or a goddamned watch. He put a price tag on you, and that just ticked me off.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then carefully asked, “Is that why you came back?” she asked. “To tell me about Oliver?”
“No.” He moved in front of her, reached for her arms and pulled her up from the sofa. “I spent the past week with my brother in Kettle Creek, working on one of the houses he’s building there.”
“You said you had an appointment in Dallas. That’s why you—”
He laid a finger on her lips. “I did have an appointment. A referral from Henry. But I turned the job down and somehow just ended up at my brother’s. He’s swamped with work and I hung around to give him a hand.”
She was glad he’d gone to see his brother. She really was. Maybe they’d talk about his visit later. But right now it was not the most important, the most crucial subject on her mind.
“You didn’t answer my question, Jacob.” She refused to let herself hope, refused to throw herself in his arms and beg him to stay. But her voice wavered as she asked, “Why did you come back?”
“For you, Clair. I came back for you.”
Her heart started to pound fiercely. “Why?”
His thumbs lightly brushed her collarbone. “With every yard of cement I poured, every nail I drove in, I thought about you, here in Wolf River, with your family.”
Thrilled by his words, but still cautious, she searched his face. “What about my family?”
“I realized that while you were trying to find your past, I was running away from mine.” His dark gaze held hers. “And that I was running away from what I wanted the most, which was you.”
When she opened her mouth to speak, he shook his head.
“I couldn’t see any way around our differences. Money, social standing, family.” Lightly he traced his knuckles along her jaw. “You deserved so much more than I thought I could offer. Then I—”
“Jacob—”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt, Miss Beauchamp?” he said with a frown. “Now be quiet.”
She pressed her lips firmly together, thought she might burst if he didn’t hurry and get out whatever it was he was trying to say.
“Then I stood back and looked at the house I was pounding nails into. There was a lot of finish work to do—walls, roof, plaster—but it had a solid foundation and a strong framework.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “I figure if I can’t give you all those other things you deserve, I can at least give you that. A solid foundation and framework. If you’ll have me, we’ll work together on the rest.”
If she’d have him? The flutter of hope she’d felt a moment ago took full flight. “You—you want me?”
He smiled, then brushed his lips against hers. “I don’t just want you. I need you. I need you beside me when we go to bed at night, in the morning when we wake up. I need the sound of your laugh and the enthusiasm in your eyes when you experience something new. I love you, Clair. I want to marry you. I want babies and a house with a white picket fence, Little League games and piano recitals. God help me, we’ll even do that cotillion thing if you want.”
Her knees turned to water and Clair was certain if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have sank to the floor. “You love me?” she whispered. “You want to marry me?”
“I love you,” he repeated. “I think I’ve been in love with you since the moment you turned toward me in that chu
rch and asked me for a ride.”
He loved her. Wanted to marry her. The joy of it swelled in her chest and tightened her throat. When she said nothing, just stared at him, she saw the panic settle in his dark eyes.
“I know I was a fool to let my pride get in my way,” he said urgently. “But now I’m asking, I’m begging, please marry me. God, Clair tell me you love me, too.”
Laughing, she threw her arms around his neck, then kissed him. She felt the relief shudder through him as he circled his strong arms around her and kissed her back. “I do love you,” she gasped, dragging her mouth from his. “And yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Thank God,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”
“You didn’t lose me, Jacob,” she whispered against his mouth. “You found me, remember?”
Lifting his head, he grinned down at her. “I guess I did. So, can I keep you?”
She smiled back at him through her tears. “I’m yours, Jacob. I always have been. I always will be.”
He kissed her again, a deep, soulful kiss. A kiss filled with promise. With truth.
They were both breathing hard when he finally pulled away and looked down at her. “I don’t care where we live,” he said raggedly. “I’ll build you a house, a big house. We’ll fill it with babies and a couple of dogs and a hamster or a fish. My brother wants to bring me in as a partner, expand his business outside of where he is now. I could set up an office anywhere.”
“Jacob.” He’d be the first person she’d tell, she decided. The first person to know what she planned to do. “I want to live here, in Wolf River,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m going to buy The Four Winds.”
“The hotel?”
“I know that Lucas has wanted to sell it for a long time, but he’s been looking for the right buyer. I’m the right buyer.” Her smile widened. “I know I’ll have a lot to learn and I’ll have to work hard, but I can do it, Jacob. I know I can.”
“No doubt about it, sweetheart.” He slid his hands down her back and tugged her close against him. “No doubt at all.”
The thrill of his touch, the joy of the kisses he trailed along her jaw, overflowed her heart. To love that one special man, to be loved back, it was everything she’d ever imagined. She took his face in her face and looked up at him.
“I have to fly back to South Carolina tomorrow and see my parents,” she said softly. “Will you come to?”
“I have a better idea.” He pressed his lips into her palm and gazed back at her. Her smile widened.
And together they said it.
“Let’s drive.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8604-1
THAT BLACKHAWK BRIDE
Copyright © 2003 by Barbara Joel
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*Hearts of Stone
†Secrets!
That Blackhawk Bride Page 15