When You Dance With The Devil

by Gwynne Forster

  When she shivered, Richard put his right arm around her and tucked her close to his body. Could he handle loving a woman who he couldn’t protect, whose occupation was too dangerous for the average man, and who loved the work she did? What would he have done if one of those men had shot her? Tremors raced through him at the thought of it. But he loved her and couldn’t let that stop him. Tonight, she needed him, and whenever she did, he’d be there for her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Richard walked into the lounge with Francine and his father, the boarders sat precisely as he and his father had left them nearly an hour earlier, every face etched in concern. It was then that he knew he belonged to them and they to him, that the strangers he’d rejected, then courted, and later disavowed because they seemingly had no interest in him had become his loving and caring family. He knew that he could still suffer for his callous treatment of women and for his disregard of others as he strove toward the pinnacle of success, and he accepted that—he had danced with the devil, and he’d pay his dues—but for the first time in his life, he had friends.

  Philip Coles seemed to drag himself into the lounge, looked around and knocked his right fist into his left palm, apparently without realizing that he did it. “Where’s Jolene? She isn’t in her room, so I thought she was down here. She can’t be out in this weather.” He didn’t address any one in particular, but he looked at Judd.

  “Jolene called me not long ago,” Judd said. “She’s staying in Ocean Pines tonight. Nobody can drive in this storm.”

  Philip let his gaze roam over the group, shook his head, turned and walked slowly back up the stairs, as if dazed. “What’s wrong with him?” Francine whispered to Richard.

  Richard looked down at her, so close and yet so much farther from him than he wanted her to be. “Like some of the rest of us, Francine, Philip Coles is paying his dues.”

  She stared at him. “Oh, dear. Has Jolene confronted him?”

  “No more than what you heard. It’s his conscience, his guilt that’s dragging him down. I haven’t been an angel, but I couldn’t have denied my child, my own flesh and blood, and looked on while she suffered at the hands of a mother who hated me and made my child the scapegoat. I pity him.”

  Even as Richard spoke, Jolene stood with Harper near the main entrance to Long’s Department Store in Ocean Pines. “I’ve never heard such wind,” she said to him as she gazed through the glass door at the debris swirling around on the street. “We can’t drive to Pike Hill in this storm, can we?”

  “It’s too dangerous.” He took both of her hands. “I’ll rent you a room in a hotel that isn’t far from here, or you may stay with me. It’s up to you.”

  He stood there holding her hands and looking down at her, and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. But it seemed to her that the whole world was in his eyes. Unable to divert her gaze, she lowered her eyelids and leaned into him.

  “Take me with you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  She’d been to his place once before, but she remembered nothing of the masculine apartment with its dark woods and leather seating. She might never have been there, except that her mind recalled with vivid accuracy all that she experienced there, everything that he did to her there.

  He made coffee and brought it to her in the living room along with a plate of Graham crackers, which he explained were his favorites. After he spilled the coffee while pouring it and broke the plate that held the crackers, she felt more at ease.

  “I’m getting to be a klutz,” he said.

  She reached out and patted his hand. “Harper, don’t be nervous. Nothing’s going to happen unless you want it to happen.” She recalled those lines from one of the romance novels she once read so avidly.

  As if dumbfounded, he stared at her . . . and stared. Then, he laughed a big air-clearing laugh, picked her up and carried her to his bedroom.

  When she awoke the next morning, snug in his arms, he was still buried deep inside of her. She moved languorously and rubbed his buttocks, and immediately she felt herself stretch as he grew within her. She raised her body to meet his thrust, and minutes later exploded around him in ecstasy.

  After a while, with her face cradled in his palms, he looked down at her and shook his head as if unable to fathom the wonder of their relationship. “I start work next Monday at the Ryder Furniture Company in Ocean City. I make furniture and finish it by hand. One day, I hope to design it. When the work gets slow, I drive for one of the bus companies around here. They’re always willing to take me on, so I’m never out of a job.”

  He gazed unsmiling into her eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. “Will you have me for your husband, Jolene? I’ll take good care of you and our children. Will you?”

  She couldn’t sit up, because he was lying on top of her, but she had a sudden desire to dance, shout, and flail her arms. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?”

  He smiled at that, smiled until his face brightened with happiness. “Yes, I am. Will you?”

  “I sure will.” And then she laughed. Laughed until she shook. Laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks. “Oh, Harper! I will. I will.”

  On Christmas Eve, two days later, Thank the Lord Boarding House hummed with activity. Judd hung a stocking for each boarder, Fannie, the kitchen help, and the guests. Joe assumed the job of cutting the chestnuts that would roast beside the fire; Percy made wreaths from the fir and holly branches he collected on his last trip; and Louvenia and Arnetha set the tables, some with red and some with green cloths.

  Richard took his father and Judd to Ocean Pines to shop for wine, fruit and the ingredients for eggnog, including cognac.

  “No point in drinking flat eggnog,” Harland had insisted. “The stuff needs cognac and rum. It’s got so much cream in it that Fannie won’t know the difference till she passes out.”

  “But we have to live with her,” Judd said, “and she’d never let us forget it. We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t raise hell about the cognac.”

  “What are you giving Francine for Christmas?” Richard’s father asked him.

  “I’d like to give her a ring, but—”

  “Then give her one,” Judd said, cutting him off. “You don’t think she’s gonna come up to you and ask you for one, do you? What can you lose? Last time I saw the two of you together, she was as close to you as she could get. Well, almost. Anyway, if she says no, you can take it back to the jeweler and get your money.”

  “Right,” Harland Peterson said. “That way, she’ll know it’s D-Day, and she can stop making up her mind, which is something women get a helluva kick out of doing anyhow.”

  “Hmmm. Not a bad idea.” Richard parked in front of Steig’s, went inside, and found what he wanted almost immediately.

  “What was all the hush-hush about the night of the hurricane?” Judd asked Richard, who told him, and added, “She’s finished with that job, so it’s no longer a secret.”

  “Well, I’ll be doggone. Cute and womanly as she is, I never woulda guessed it.” Judd said. “If your father said his woman was an officer of the law, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised, ’cause he’s down here on earth like the rest of us. But you! I can’t even imagine you with your fingers dirty. You look like Harland here, but you’re not a bit like him.”

  “That’s because I spent most of my life trying not to be like him. But in the past couple of days, it’s become clear to me that he gets more that’s meaningful with his ways than I ever did with mine.”

  Judd cleared his throat. “You want Francine, but will you introduce her to your highfalutin’ friends as a policewoman?”

  “If you can’t do that, you should leave her alone,” Harland said. “Francine is a prize for any man.”

  “What do you two take me to be?” Richard said, becoming exasperated. “My friends live at Thank the Lord Boarding House; other people are acquaintances, and who I marry is none of their business.”
And to signal the end to that issue, he asked Judd, “Do you want us to visit your sister the day after tomorrow?”

  “I wouldn’t mind, if it’s no trouble.”

  Alone in his room late that afternoon, Richard walked from one end of it to the other, time and again. Maybe if he wrote her a note. He sat down and began a letter, tore it up and went downstairs. How long would he have to pay for his transgressions? He deserved punishment, and he knew it, but should it last forever?

  “If she won’t take the ring,” he said to Judd, “I’ll be devastated. Where’s Dad? I thought he was down here.”

  “She’ll be happy to have it,” Judd assured him, “so take it easy. Your father is in the kitchen showing Marilyn how to make something called satay that he ate in Indonesia. Be careful you don’t get her for a stepmother.”

  He stared at Judd. “A what? Hell no, man. I’d handcuff my father and lock him up before I’d see him do that.”

  Laughter rumbled out of Judd in what seemed like gasps. “Well, he’s a fine looking man, and he’s got Marilyn’s prerequisites.”

  Marilyn didn’t allow any of the boarders in her kitchen, so what was Harland Peterson doing in there? He resisted checking on him. His sixty-six-year-old father shouldn’t need a chaperon. He tried to enjoy the holiday atmosphere—big beautiful tree and the berry-sprinkled green wreath above the fireplace, the odor of bayberry and pine that wafted throughout the house. Flames danced and crackled before his eyes, spreading warmth and brightening the lounge. A mound of gifts, beautifully wrapped, filled the space beneath the tree. He squirmed in his chair. Where was Francine?

  “The odors in that kitchen make me feel as if I haven’t eaten in weeks,” Harland said when he joined Judd and his son. “Where’s Francine?”

  She walked toward them at that moment, open and welcoming, and he prayed that he wasn’t misunderstanding the signals she sent. He got up and pulled out a chair for her.

  Marilyn had roasted a suckling pig and a twenty-five pound turkey with all the trimmings for a traditional Christmas dinner. With two additional tables set, the kitchen staff, Harland, Philip, and Harper joined the boarders and Fannie for the meal.

  Fannie stood. “Reverend Coles will say the grace, but I know how gossip flies around here, so before he does, I want you all to remember that this is Christmas, a time of love and forgiving. I’ve forgiven Philip, and I want all of you to do the same.” Philip’s grace was more like a prayer, and when he finished, Judd applauded and the others followed his lead.

  Richard looked into Francine’s eyes, asking for tolerance, understanding and, maybe, forgiveness. Her gaze didn’t waver, so he reached across the table and grasped her hand. “I’ll be faithful to you, and I’ll love you for as long as I breathe.”

  “I know,” she said, “and I promise you the same.”

  His heart seemed at first to have stopped beating, and then it began a furious pounding in his chest. He recovered his breath, stood, leaned forward and kissed her mouth. He didn’t wait for a reprimand for his public display, but reached into his pocket for the ring, took her left hand and slipped the ring on her ring finger. He didn’t know what she said, for the deafening applause drowned out her words. But the tears sparkling in her eyes and the smile on her face were all the words he needed, and he bounded around the table, lifted her into his arms and held her. She looked at the ring on her finger and then kissed the side of his mouth.

  “I think she just agreed to marry me,” he said to those present. “I can hardly believe it.”

  “She did,” Marilyn said. “Now, let’s eat before this dinner I cooked gets cold.”

  “Wait a minute,” Harper said. “This guy’s got nothing on me. Jolene has agreed to marry me, and we’re having the ceremony in February.” He stood, slipped a ring on Jolene’s finger and hugged her. “Now, we can eat.”

  Judd finished his meal and headed for his usual seat in the lounge. Rocking back and forward in his Shaker rocker, his words belied his smile. “Looks like I’m gonna be losing two of m’favorite people.”

  “I don’t think so,” Fannie said. “From what I hear, half the town’s already signed a petition for Richard’s mayoral candidacy, and I’m told Harper lives in Ocean Pines. They’ll be nearby. Still, I wish Jolene wouldn’t leave me. Jolene,” she looked at her niece, “I know Philip’s behavior was reprehensible, but the Lord wants you to forgive. Philip will pay for what he’s done; you needn’t worry about that. Tell you the truth, he’s suffering right now.”

  As if on cue, Philip joined them. “I don’t have an excuse, Jolene, and for the rest of my life, I will regret how I’ve behaved toward you. At least, please don’t hate me.”

  Jolene looked him in the eye. “I won’t say it’s all right, because it isn’t. There were plenty of times when I needed someone desperately, and there was no one. But I’ve done things that I’m ashamed of, too, and I’ve hurt others. I don’t feel like opening my arms to you, but I don’t wish you any harm. In time, maybe we can be closer.”

  Philip looked at Harper. “I hope you won’t keep my grandchildren from me.”

  Harper didn’t flinch from the man’s gaze. “Whatever makes Jolene happy.”

  Judd nodded his head in agreement and when, from his peripheral vision, he saw Richard and Francine gliding arm-in-arm up the stairs, he smiled in contentment, leaned back in his Shaker rocker, and rocked.

  Richard walked with Francine to her room and stood at the door gazing down into her soft brown eyes. “I’d give anything if I didn’t have to leave you.”

  “Then don’t,” she whispered.

  “But . . .”

  Francine turned the knob on her door, pushed the door open and gazed up at him, telling him without words that the next move was his. “For months, lying in your arms has filled my dreams and imagining what it will be like has dominated my waking hours.”

  His breathing accelerated, liquid accumulated in his mouth, and he didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice when his words came out rough and urgent. “And you think it hasn’t been the same with me?”

  She looked down at the diamond engagement ring on her finger and then at him. “I won’t have to beg you after we’re married, will I?”

  He could feel the grin spreading over his face as he lifted her, stepped into her room, closed the door, locked it and pressed his mouth to her warm waiting lips.

  “Your father,” she said. “He knows you aren’t in your room.”

  “My father also knows you just promised to marry me.”

  Between the satin sheets that she favored, he covered her body with his own, made certain that she was ready for him and they joined.

  “What is it?” she asked when he remained still and silent.

  “I’m overwhelmed. I can hardly believe what’s happening to me. To us.”

  She tightened her arms around him, and he began to move. Nothing like it had ever happened to him. As if they had been lovers for years, she adjusted to his every stroke, every change in movement. Finally, she exploded around him and wrung from him the essence of himself. He cradled her in his arms. “I love you. Marry me soon.”

  “I will.”

  “There’re so many things I want to do to you and with you, but we can’t be greedy tonight.”

  “There’s still Miami and that hotel overlooking the ocean. How about next weekend?” she asked.

  “It won’t come soon enough for me.”

  “Nor for me.”

  Don’t miss Gwynne Forster’s new novel

  BREAKING THE TIES THAT BIND

  Coming in October 2011 from Dafina Books

  Turn the page for an excerpt from Breaking the Ties That Bind. . . .

  Chapter One

  Kendra Richards completed her ablutions, opened her sleep sofa, extinguished the lights, and crawled into bed. She had stood continually from three o’clock in the afternoon until eleven that night and she’d frozen a smile on her face as she checked coats, briefcases, canes, and
umbrellas in a classy Washington, D.C., restaurant. A tally of her tips showed that, as balm for her tired feet, she had exactly sixty-three dollars.

  “Oh, well, at least I have a job,” she said to herself and fluffed her pillow, let out a long, happy breath, and prepared for sleep. Tomorrow, she would have lunch with her three buddies—The Pace Setters, as the four called themselves—a treat to which she always looked forward.

  She heard the phone ringing, but she put her head beneath the pillow and willed the noise to go away. But it persisted, so she sat up and answered it. “Hello, whoever you are at half past midnight.”

  “What on earth took you so long? Don’t tell me you were asleep.”

  She got comfortable and rested her right elbow on her knee. “What’s the matter, Mama?”

  “Nothing’s the matter. Why does something have to be the matter?”

  “Mama, it’s almost one o’clock in the morning. I got off a little over an hour ago, and I was just going to sleep. Why’d you call so late?”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake. You’re the only person in this town who thinks twelve o’clock is late.”

  Ready to throw up her hands, she said, “Yeah. Right,” beneath her breath. Nobody had to tell her that Ginny Hunter was about to drop a bomb. Kendra cut to the chase. “What is it, Mama?”

  “Don’t be so frosty. Your mama needs a couple ’a thousand. I saw a nice little Lexus, and I need that money for the down payment.”

  Kendra stared at the receiver as if it were the phone that abused her patience. “You’re not serious. You risked waking me up for this? And why would you buy a car? Your license has been revoked, and you can’t drive it. Besides, you can’t get car insurance if your license has been revoked, and it’s against the law to drive an uninsured car.”

  “Oh, that’s stupid. Nobody can get around in Washington without a car.”