Til Death Do Us Part

by Beverly Barton

  “Would you consider making a bargain with me?” Joanna asked, wondering if she’d lost her mind even considering the proposition she was about to make.

  “What sort of bargain?” Lifting her hands to his lips, he kissed each fingertip.

  Joanna shivered. “You’re interested in an affair. Nothing serious. Nothing permanent. You’d just like for us to become sexual partners while you’re acting as my bodyguard, then when your services are no longer required, we both go our separate ways. No regrets or recriminations on either side.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m willing to consider what you want, to give us both a chance to see exactly what there is or isn’t between us.” Joanna already knew. She’d gone and done the unforgivable. She was falling in love with J.T. How stupid could she get? She wanted tenderness, understanding, patience, and a man interested in a lifetime commitment. J.T. offered nothing she wanted—nothing except himself. And he was what she wanted most of all. Even if he could be a part of her life for only a few weeks.

  Cocking his head to one side, J.T. grinned. “What’s the catch, honey?”

  “I want you to read Annabelle’s diary,” Joanna said.

  “You want me to do what?” He released her hands, dropping them quickly, as if her touch had burned him.

  “You read Annabelle’s diary, one entry at a time, and I’ll give you the chance to persuade me to become your lover.”

  “You’re serious.” He laughed, the sound deep and hearty. “By God, you are serious.”

  “Is my asking price too high?”

  “Go get that damned diary!” He pulled her into his arms, lowered his head and whispered against her lips, “I’d read a hundred diaries for the chance you’re offering me.”

  She shoved him away gently, then took a step backward, her hip bumping into the easel holding Elena’s portrait. She grabbed the easel, steadying it.

  “Not tonight. Too much has happened today. Discovering that Lenny Plott knows where I am. Having you move in with me. And knowing Mother will arrive tomorrow and start issuing orders.” Joanna groaned. “Tell me, J.T., am I making a deal with the devil? I really don’t trust my own feelings. And I don’t trust you at all. At least not when it comes to—” she’d been about to say love “—our having a physical relationship.”

  “You handle things with your mother and I’ll take care of Lenny Plott. You trust me to keep you safe, don’t you?”

  “I want to trust you completely,” she said. “I know you seem to be a man of your word, a man who keeps his promises, but I… Well, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to completely trust a man again. Not after the rape. Not after Todd’s desertion.”

  “I’d like to be the man who teaches you to trust again,” J.T. told her. “And I’m not the devil, honey. I’m just a man. A man who’s going to keep you safe. And that is a promise.”

  And I’d like to be the woman who teaches you how to love, Joanna thought, but said, “Promise me something else, J.T.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me that, no matter what happens, you’ll try to open up your heart and your mind to your mother’s people. Elena told me that you know practically nothing about the Navajo.”

  “What is it with you? You want me to read Annabelle’s diary. You want me to get in touch with my Native American roots. You want to change me, Jo. I swear, a person would think you don’t like the man I am now.”

  “I’m not sure I do like you,” Joanna admitted. “At least, not the J. T. Blackwood you present to the world. I want to get to know the man inside you, the real J. T. Blackwood.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. The real J. T. Blackwood is who you see right here in front of you.”

  “What I see when I look at you is only the physical, and I like that just fine. What I want to get to know is the spirit, and that’s the part of you that you keep hidden from everyone. Even from yourself, I think.”

  “I’ll read Annabelle’s damned diary.” J.T. marched across the living room, his bare feet slamming against the wooden floor. When he reached the hallway, he stopped and turned around. “And if it’ll make you happy, I’ll let Elena give me ‘Navajo lessons.’” J.T. grunted. “But I’m warning you that reading some old diary filled with a lot of mush and learning more about my mother’s people won’t change me.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Joanna said. But in her heart she hoped that while J.T. was putting his life on the line to protect her, she could help him discover the man he really was beneath all the bitter cynicism—a man capable of giving and receiving love.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  We have been in Trinidad a week now. Ernest is quite pleased to be here, although the heat seems to bother him terribly. Yesterday’s find, though not of prehistoric origin, was enough to pacify him. He and his assistant, Horace Grisham, discovered several items of Spanish origin—iron, copper, glass and porcelain. Ernest says that finding these items at this site is a result of the Pueblo Indians having taken refuge here with the Navajo after the revolt against the Spanish in the late seventeenth century.

  The boys are doing well, running and laughing and playing as boys their age will do. They’re quite a handful at eight and twelve. But they are the joy of my life, my beautiful sons.

  We met a most interesting man today. He is a Navajo silversmith, and without a doubt the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. He came riding into our camp on his big Appaloosa stallion. I must say that horse and rider were a spectacular sight.

  His name is Benjamin Greymountain, and his father is a member of their tribal council. Although he wore white man’s clothing, his black hair, which he had tied back off his face with a bandana, hung to well below his shoulders. He is young—I suspect, a good ten years younger than I.

  I feel extremely foolish admitting this, even to myself, but the first moment I saw Benjamin Greymountain, I thought I heard drums beating somewhere off in the distance, and when he looked at me, the most extraordinary feelings spread through me. I am a bit afraid of those feelings. I must, of course, control them.

  Benjamin’s father sent him to our camp to offer his services as a guide, if any of our party should wish to take excursions about the countryside. It seems there are some Indians here who hate the archaeologists who are poking and digging about in their heritage, and the senior Mr. Greymountain hopes that he can prevent any unpleasantness between his people and ours.

  I cannot help wondering how I will handle seeing this young man every day for the next two and a half months. I am a married woman of thirty-four, with children. I must remember who I am. But the memory of those black eyes staring at me, devouring me, almost, makes me think that Benjamin experienced the same jolting emotions that I did.

  “JOANNA’S MOTHER IS here,” Elena called from the hallway. “Aren’t you coming out to meet her?”

  J.T. closed Annabelle Beaumont’s diary. An odd, queasy feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach. No wonder Joanna had become so engrossed in her great-grandmother’s diary. The woman certainly had a captivating way of expressing herself. And it was apparent that she had been sexually attracted to Benjamin Greymountain from the first moment she saw him and had been determined to fight those feelings.

  Placing her hands on each side of the door frame, Elena leaned into J.T.’s study and gave him a hard look. “Well, are you coming or not? I’d think you’d want to make a good impression on Joanna’s mother.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute. Go on without me. By the time Alex escorts the senator into the house, I’ll be there.”

  “Joanna could use a little moral support,” Elena said. “She’s waiting in the living room, pacing the floor. She really didn’t want Mrs. Beaumont to come out here. When Joanna lived in Virginia, her mother tried to run her life. From what Joanna’s told me, the woman is a first-class manipulator.”

  “Has Mrs. Beaumont ever visited Joanna before?” J.T. asked.

  “No, not once since she moved to New Mexico. Joan
na goes back to Virginia two or three times every year.” Dropping her hands from the door frame, Elena stepped into J.T.’s private domain—the study that had once belonged to old John Thomas. J.T. had changed it very little, adding only the modern conveniences of a computer and a fax machine. “But Joanna’s life has never been threatened before. I believe Mrs. Beaumont loves Joanna and is genuinely concerned.”

  “I’m sure she is.” J.T. sat down on the edge of the huge oak desk. “But she must know Joanna wouldn’t be any safer back in Richmond than she is here in Trinidad. At least, not any safer from Lenny Plott.”

  “What are you not saying, big brother?”

  “I don’t know what Mrs. Beaumont suspects is going on between Joanna and me, but whatever it is, she doesn’t like it. My guess is the senator’s visit to New Mexico has more to do with my presence in her daughter’s life than with Lenny Plott’s escape from prison.”

  “Just what is going on between you and Joanna? You’re my only brother and she’s my best friend. You already know I’d like nothing better than to see you two get together, but… You seem to mix like oil and water.”

  “If you’re so interested in Joanna’s relationship with me, why haven’t you asked her?”

  “I have asked her,” Elena admitted. “She said you were her bodyguard, and when I asked if there wasn’t more to it, she said to ask you.”

  Hearty laughter rumbled from J.T. Elena’s eyes widened; her mouth fell open.

  “Joanna and I aren’t lovers. Not yet, if that’s what you’re asking, nosy little sister.” J.T. stood straight and tall, the remnants of a smile still on his face.

  “Don’t you dare hurt her.” Elena slipped her arm through her brother’s. “She’s very special, you know.”

  “Yeah, I’m beginning to see just how special.”

  J.T. led Elena out of his study and down the hall, pausing when they heard voices coming from the foyer.

  “I’m almost as nervous as Joanna,” Elena said. “I want Mrs. Beaumont to like us. I’ve planned a wonderful dinner, in the dining room, for this evening.”

  “Come on, then, let’s go meet the queen bee.” J.T. hoped, for Elena’s sake, that Mrs. Beaumont proved his suspicions wrong and didn’t show herself to be the “just-slightly prejudiced” person she was.

  When they entered the living room, they found Alex preparing Mrs. Beaumont a drink, while mother and daughter seated themselves on the sofa. Joanna glanced up, a tentative, strained smile on her face.

  “Please, come and meet Mother.”

  Joanna stood and held out her hand to Elena, who rushed across the room. Helene Beaumont looked directly at J.T., who waited in the arched doorway. She sat up just a bit straighter, squaring her shoulders. When she turned her head to greet Elena, her chin-length, salt-and-pepper hair flared outward. Impeccably dressed in a neat little red designer suit, she looked every inch the wealthy, successful woman she was.

  “Mother, this is Elena.” Joanna clasped her best friend’s hand.

  Helene lifted her hand, offering it to Elena, who accepted the older woman’s firm handshake. “I’m simply delighted to meet you, my dear. Joanna just raves about you and your Alex. You can’t know how pleased I was when she finally made some friends out here in this wilderness. In all honesty, I didn’t think she’d end up staying out here permanently. Joanna’s always been a city girl, you know.”

  “Well, we’ve pretty much turned her into a country girl,” Elena said, her smile warm and genuine. “We’re glad she decided to make Trinidad her home. Like Alex, she’s found this land an inspiration for her work.”

  “My, yes,” Helene said. “I’m so proud of my little girl’s success. Of course, with talent like hers, she would have been a success anywhere.”

  J.T. glanced down the hallway when he heard the back door open and then slam shut. Before he could go check on things, Alex called out to him.

  “That’s just Willie bringing in Mrs. Beaumont’s luggage,” Alex said.

  “Did you tell Willie where to put her things?” Elena asked.

  “I’m staying here?” Helene turned to Joanna. “I thought you’d told me you had two bedrooms in your house.”

  “You’ll be very comfortable here with us, Mrs. Beaumont,” Elena told their guest. “We have tons of room and if you’d like breakfast in bed, all you need to do is ask.”

  “Why aren’t I staying with you?” Helene tilted her sharp little chin upward, glaring at her daughter.

  “Well, Mother, you see, it wouldn’t be convenient. There just isn’t enough room right now.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand. I took time away from my work to come out here to be with you, Joanna.” Helene glanced up, smiling at Elena and then at Alex. “As much as I appreciate the Gregorys’ offer to stay here, I’d much prefer staying with you.”

  “Mother, that’s impossible. If you stay with me, you’d have to sleep on the sofa.”

  “Why would I have to sleep on the sofa?”

  J.T. strolled into the room. “You wouldn’t, if you have no objections to my sharing Joanna’s bed.”

  Joanna sucked in a deep breath. Elena gasped. Alex covered his mouth to hide a chuckle.

  “J.T. is staying in the second bedroom at my house,” Joanna said. “He moved in last night, after I received a telephone call from Lenny Plott. J.T. is going to be with me twenty-four hours a day until Plott is back behind bars.”

  “I see.” Helene glowered at J.T., then quickly centered all her attention on her daughter. “If Plott knows where you are, if he’s found you here in New Mexico where you thought you might be safe, there’s no reason for you to refuse to come home with me.”

  “Let’s discuss this later. Please.” Joanna knew she would have to stand her ground with her mother or she’d be run down like a steamroller. Helene Beaumont liked things her own way, and she was happiest when she controlled the lives of everyone around her.

  “Very well,” Helene said. “Perhaps, you’ll stay long enough to show me to my room.”

  “Here you are.” Alex handed Helene the vodka collins she had requested.

  “Thank you, Alex.” She sipped her drink, then smiled with approval. “Perfect, simply perfect.”

  “Mother, I’ll be staying here until after dinner,” Joanna said. “Elena is preparing something special, just for you.”

  “How delightful.” Helene’s campaign smile returned in full force, brightening her dull gray eyes and softening her sharp features. She took another sip of her drink, then stood. “I’m dreadfully tired after my plane ride. Why don’t you show me to my room, dear, and then stay and we’ll have a little talk while I rest?”

  Joanna grimaced, dreading the upcoming confrontation with her mother. The only time she had ever won a battle with the formidable Senator Beaumont was when she had decided to move to New Mexico four years ago.

  “Dinner will be at six,” Elena said. “So there’s plenty of time for a nap, if you’d like.”

  Helene blessed everyone in the room with her gracious smile, even J.T. Slipping her arm through Joanna’s, she held the vodka collins in her other hand. “I’m looking forward to dinner. We’ll see you around six, then.”

  Joanna gave Elena a pleading look, asking for her friend’s understanding. Helene tugged on Joanna’s arm, the action so subtle, no one else noticed.

  “I’ll be with Mother for a while,” Joanna told J.T. as they walked past him. “I won’t leave the house.”

  “I’ll be close by.” J.T. looked directly at Joanna, avoiding eye contact with her mother.

  The minute the Beaumont ladies were out of earshot, Alex blew out a huffing breath. “Well, well, isn’t she something! I can see why Joanna doesn’t want to go back to Virginia.”

  “You’re being unkind,” Elena said.

  “Unkind, my rear end.” J.T. crossed his arms over his chest. “Instead of giving Joanna her complete support and understanding, Mrs. Beaumont is here to create problems. It’s obvious
she doesn’t give a damn what Joanna wants, and she certainly doesn’t like me.”

  The corners of Elena’s mouth twitched. “You deliberately baited her with that comment about sharing Joanna’s bed.”

  “I’m wealthy. I’m successful. I’m highly trained to protect her daughter. What could the woman possibly have against me?”

  The partially formed smile on Elena’s face vanished. “You’re half Navajo. You think that’s the reason she doesn’t like you, that she’s prejudiced because of your Navajo blood.”

  “If the shoe fits,” Alex said, as he slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Kind of makes you wish you hadn’t planned such a special dinner for her tonight, doesn’t it?”

  “Well, no matter what, she’s Joanna’s mother and I’m going to be nice to her for Joanna’s sake.” Elena cuddled against Alex.

  “Let me know when that special dinner is ready,” J.T. said. “I’ll be in my study.”

  HELENE TIED THE belt around her silk dressing gown, then sat on the edge of the bed and held open her arms to her daughter. “Come give me a hug.”

  Joanna obeyed. She adored her mother—her beautiful, brilliant mother—but sometimes she didn’t like her very much. Helene had been the “perfect” wife and mother, always doing what she thought best. But there had been times when Joanna had wondered how much of that “perfection” had been an expression of love and how much had been just for show. What the world thought of Helene meant a great deal to her and she had spent her life presenting herself and her family in the very best light.

  Helene hugged Joanna, released her and patted the bed beside her. “Sit with me for a while and let’s talk the way we used to when you lived at home.”

  Sighing, Joanna acquiesced to her mother’s request and sat down on her right. “I can save us a lot of arguing back and forth. There’s no need for us to have a talk. I’m not returning with you to Virginia. I’m staying here in New Mexico. This is my home now.”