The pace of the kiss accelerated, like a roller coaster, having crept its way to the top, then plummeting down the other side. The rush of feeling overwhelmed her, terrified her, and yet at the same time, thrilled and tantalized her.
He pulled back a moment later, his breathing uneven. He looked down and met her eyes.
She remembered how this had felt.
But had she ever forgotten?
No.
He pulled her to him with a low groan and covered her mouth with his once more. Time fell away. And suddenly they were back at the lake on that long-ago afternoon. The magic had not changed.
He pulled back again, her face still cupped in his hands. “Mmm, you taste good. Like candied apples and popcorn.”
Letting her head drop back, she looked up at him, her voice teasing. “And you taste like…Beeman’s gum?”
Will’s laughter rang softly in the night. “Had a heck of a time finding the stuff in L.A.”
Hannah smiled, enchanted by this endearing combination of boy and man.
And suddenly he was pulling her closer one more time, his hands slipping inside her coat.
Reason set a bell clanging inside her, and she twisted her head aside, reaching for a last cobweb of sanity. “Will….”
The word sounded like a mutual plea for release and a desperate cry for more.
But he only groaned and stepped around to switch places with her, then lifted her and sat her on the edge of the car’s hood. He wedged his body between her legs, leaning over to let his mouth find hers once again. There was nothing gentle about the kiss. This was about physical want. The need of a man for a woman. She recognized that need because it echoed inside her.
His hands shimmied down her arms, past the curve of her breasts, along her waist, then to her hips, where he fit himself closer inside the grip of her thighs. And all the while, he continued to kiss her. He kept one hand on her thigh, then let the other find its way to the back of her neck, holding her in place while he kissed her, deep and hard. She instinctively arched toward him, certain only that she did not want him to stop.
There was nothing threatening about the way he held her. This was desire between a man and a woman as it should be. Hannah’s arms wound around his neck, and she pressed herself closer to him, unable to think of anything but the hunger building inside her. He kissed the tip of her chin, then grazed her jaw with his teeth, skimming along her neck to her ear. She splayed her hands across his back. He pulled her hair to one side, undid the top button of her blouse and kissed her shoulder.
She tilted her head back, her eyes closed, her need for him pounding in every pulse point.
She all but forgot that it was almost twelve-thirty in the morning, that they were in the middle of the Lake Perdue Armory parking lot. Nothing mattered but this closeness. And that getting closer seemed inevitable.
A car rolled past on a nearby street. A horn sounded in the distance. The sudden noise had them pulling apart like two teenagers caught in the glare of the front porch light. Will stepped back and brushed a hand across his mouth.
They stared at one another, their chests rising and falling, their lips slightly parted.
She touched a hand to her mouth. With the physical separation came a tidal wave of common sense, flattening her with its force. “I’d better go.”
He reached out a hand and smoothed a lock of her hair between his fingers. “I think you’d better, too.”
Hannah slid off the hood, trying to right her clothes about her. She fumbled for the door handle, then stopped and risked one last glance at him.
He stood there watching her. The look in his eyes told her she was asking for something she might not be ready for if she stayed.
And so she went.
Chapter Forty-four
Will’s Cherokee rolled to a stop in front of Hannah’s house just before noon the next day. From her front window, she watched him stride up the sidewalk. How would she act? What would he say? Would they ignore what had happened? Pretend it hadn’t?
She looked down at the denim skirt and melon-colored cotton sweater she wore. Would he think she’d tried too hard? Not enough?
She forced herself to cross the room and pull open the door. She gave Will what she hoped was a casual smile.
“Morning, Hannah.” He stood there in her doorway, his face expressionless. Obviously he was going to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had passed between them the night before.
Taking her cue from him, she was determined to appear similarly unaffected. She stepped back and said, “Let me grab my coat and I’ll be ready.”
She turned and headed for the closet, returning a moment later with a fixed smile. Will helped her on with her coat, and when his fingers brushed her arm, she stepped quickly away from him.
He shot her a puzzled look and then waved her ahead of him out the door. Silence seemed to be the topic of choice for the first fifteen minutes of the drive. They had passed the Bowman’s dairy farm a few miles outside town when Will finally broke it. “You’re thinking about what happened last night.”
“Let’s just forget—”
“To be honest,” he went on as though she hadn’t spoken, “I’ve thought of little else since you pulled out of that parking lot. It took us both by surprise. But a few kisses last night that probably shouldn’t have happened don’t have to ruin today.”
He waved a hand at the passing scenery, silos and fields of dead winter grass finally turning green again. “The weather’s beautiful. Let’s just enjoy it.”
When she turned to look at him, her eyes mirrored none of the confusion tumbling around inside her. He was right. It was silly to let it come between them now. Maybe what had happened was only natural. They’d spent so much time together. And the day had been a success. There was no reason to think it would ever happen again. She knew Will would easily dismiss the incident. But for Hannah, who’d been overwhelmed by the unexpected feelings he’d tapped in her, it would not be so easily forgotten.
And so, having made the admission, she was determined to put it into perspective as he had done. She pointed out the window at the signs announcing a new lakeside development and said, “I hear they’re starting construction at Pyle’s Point. The land there is beautiful. But I don’t see how it could compare to Tarkington’s Cove.” Chatter. Meaningless fill-in-the-blanks conversation.
Will glanced at her and said, “Yeah, it’d be hard to.”
And so the ride went. They talked about the success of the carnival and what a good time everyone seemed to have had. They discussed the possibility of a budding romance between Jenny and Henry Lawson and rejoiced in the fact that so many more children would get a chance to use the library now. They talked about everything except what had happened between them. That was taboo.
“When do you think they’ll order the new bookmobile?” Will asked.
“Ralph Smithers assured me first thing Monday morning, assuming we raised enough money.”
“Can’t say we didn’t do that. But instead of waiting for it to come in, why don’t you rent an RV and stock it with some books so you can start right away?”
She looked at him in surprise. “What a good idea. It’ll be weeks before we see the real thing.”
“I saw an ad for a place in Roanoke that sells them. Maybe they’ll rent us one. I’ll give them a call and look into it.”
“You’d do that?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because maybe you have a life you’d like to get back to.”
“I will. When I’m ready,” he allowed. “For now, I’m content.”
The look in his eyes brought back far too vivid memories of his mouth on hers, his hands on her skin.
The temperature in the vehicle felt suddenly uncomfortable. Her hands clasped in her lap, she stared straight ahead and steered the conversation clear of anything personal.
Fifteen minutes later they turned into the driveway of Meadow Spring Nursing Home. As always,
Hannah’s gaze flitted over the building and grounds, looking for some sign that the place might not be fitting for her aunt, a reason to insist that Sarah come home with her. But as usual the place was immaculate, the sidewalks tidy and well kept, and she’d never been able to find fault with the staff who took care of her aunt.
Will reached across and squeezed her hand. “You hate leaving her here, don’t you?”
“More than anything,” she said, sadness in her voice. “Every time I come I wish I could take her home with me.”
Will rubbed his fingers back and forth across her wrist. “This is what she wanted, right?”
Hannah nodded. “She didn’t give me a choice.”
“Someday we might have to make the same decisions, and I’ll bet we’d feel the same way.”
Knowing he was right, she pressed her lips together to stem the emotion in her throat. After a moment she said, “Let’s go in. She’s probably wondering where I am.”
Hannah had packed a basket of leftovers from the carnival—some popcorn, a soft pretzel, a few pieces of fruit. She reached for it now as they climbed out of the Jeep and headed for the entrance. Inside, she checked in at the front desk. As they made their way to the private room, she prayed that Sarah would be well today.
But the moment they stepped inside the doorway, Hannah knew she wasn’t. The dear and familiar eyes that stared at them from the bed were those of a stranger, a woman who knew no one outside the world in her mind.
Hannah pressed a hand to her mouth and turned to set the basket on the windowsill. Will touched her shoulder, giving her the strength to step forward. “Aunt Sarah?”
The woman turned to stare blankly at her. “Who are you? What day is this?”
“It’s Hannah. Your niece. And today is Sunday.”
“Where are we?”
Hannah pressed her lips together and reached down to give her aunt a hug, but there was no response. When she spoke again, her voice trembled. “I’ve brought someone with me today.”
Will stepped up from behind her. “Hello, Miss Jacobs. I’m Will Kincaid. We went to church together a few years back.”
The woman darted a glance at him and then looked away with total disinterest. “My brother is coming today.”
“Aunt Sarah, you know Daddy’s….” Hannah left the sentence unfinished, then said, “Have you had your lunch?”
Sarah shook her head.
“I’ll go check on it. Will, would you mind waiting here?”
“Not at all.” He pulled up a chair and sat down beside Sarah’s bed. The second Hannah cleared the doorway, Will said, “That’s some niece you have there, Miss Jacobs.”
Sarah looked up at him and frowned, as though something in his face had struck a chord. “You look like my brother.”
“Hannah’s father?”
The woman ignored the question and went on, as though she’d just slipped off to another world. “He wouldn’t forgive me. My brother would never forgive me.”
“Forgive you? For what?”
“Letting it happen. That awful Dillon boy. I never should’ve let him get away with it.”
Will’s gaze narrowed, and he leaned forward. “What’s that, Miss Jacobs? Get away with what?”
“I never should’ve-”
Hannah reappeared in the doorway then, looking from her aunt to Will. “Aunt Sarah, what are you filling Will’s head with?” she chastised gently, crossing the room to press the woman’s hand affectionately. “The nurse said you weren’t hungry earlier, but she’s going to bring a tray down in just a minute.”
Hannah pulled up another chair, then leaned over to smooth her aunt’s hair.
“All right,” Sarah said. “Mama said if I eat all my lunch, we’ll go shopping this afternoon.”
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and then flashed her aunt a bright smile. “That sounds wonderful.”
Will watched Hannah, noting the love in her eyes, the gentle way she held the old woman’s hand. Sarah’s rambling still puzzled him. But he supposed it had been exactly that. Rambling. He knew how hard it must be for Hannah to see her that way. And in that moment, he had never admired anyone as much in his life.
Chapter Forty-five
They stayed for almost two hours. By the time they left, Will thought Hannah looked ready to shatter. They walked mechanically down the white halls and out the front door. But once they reached the Cherokee she seemed to wilt.
“Hannah? Are you all right?” He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him.
She nodded.
But he knew otherwise, and he opened the door and helped her in before going, around and climbing in himself. He put the key in the ignition and then drove slowly out of the parking lot, away from Meadow Spring.
He drove for twenty minutes, letting the silence hang between them because he couldn’t think of a single comforting thing to say. It’ll be all right? No. Because it wouldn’t. Don’t worry about her? How could she help it?
He turned onto an old dirt road off the highway. Hannah didn’t even seem to notice the change in routes. She just stared out the window, lost in her unhappy thoughts.
Will followed the road until it reached a point where it looked out over the waters of Lake Perdue, the same spot he’d taken her to all those years ago. How much simpler things had been then. For both of them, it seemed.
Her gaze found his then, and tears welled up in her eyes.
He asked himself what right he had to offer her comfort when he had no idea how long he’d be around to give it to her. But seeing her anguish, he wished for nothing more than to be able to make it go away. “Hannah. Come here.”
He reached for her, pulling her across the seat and wrapping his arms around her. Knowing that words weren’t what she needed, he just held her, fitting her head against his shoulder, stroking her back with his hand.
She remained that way for a long time, until finally her shoulders began to shake, and the pain rose within her, pouring out in a wail of mournful sorrow.
Will’s heart clenched in grief and helplessness. He wanted to tell her it would be okay, but he couldn’t give her false promises. “I know, sweetheart. It hurts like hell, doesn’t it?”
He held her more closely, stroking her back, having no more to offer her than the comfort of his presence. “Just let it out, honey. You’ve been carrying this around for too long. It’s okay to let go.”
The soft words pulled forth the sobs, and Will did what he thought she needed most. He held her and let her cry.
Some time later, Hannah pulled back and, with a tear-streaked face, risked a look at Will. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put you through this.”
“Hey—” he pushed a strand of hair back from her face “—there’s nothing to be sorry about. You have a right to your grief. Maybe this has been a long time coming.”
“But I shouldn’t have-”
He touched a finger to her lips. “Shh. It’s all right to let somebody else be there for you now and then. I don’t know how you’ve done it alone.”
She pulled back and settled into her own seat, searching through her purse for a tissue. She didn’t know what had come over her. It wasn’t as though she’d never seen her aunt that way. But somehow having Will there to witness it, made the reality of the situation hit her like never before. “It’s not always that bad. Sometimes she’s the same person I’ve always known. And then sometimes, like today, she’s in another world.”
“I don’t know much about Alzheimer’s, but I guess that’s what makes it so awful.”
Hannah nodded and dropped her head back against the seat, murmuring, “The loss of dignity. That’s what breaks my heart the most. She was always so strong. I’d give anything to be able to make her better.”
He covered her hand with his. “I know. But sometimes things just aren’t in our control. How long has she been sick?”
“It started a few years ago, maybe before then. It seemed so innocent at first, forgetting nam
es, dialing the wrong telephone number, misplacing her keys. But it just got worse from there. One time she was missing for four days. That happened just before she went to Meadow Spring.”
He looked at her with solemn eyes. “It’s been a lot for you to shoulder, hasn’t it?”
“I’d do it all over again for her,” she said, sniffing. “She’s all I have.”
“That’s not true. If you need me, I’m here. All you have to do is ask.”
In that moment, Hannah realized her own weakness. Logic demanded she pull away, insist he take her home. But what chance did logic stand when the heart got in the way? She looked out at the sun sinking in the west. “It looks the same, doesn’t it?”
“I wondered if you’d remember,” he said softly.
“I never forgot.”
He reached for her, pulling her close against him. And she stayed there. In his arms. Just as she’d wanted to the last time they’d come here. Ten years ago.
When Will dropped Hannah off at her house, he sat there at the curb for a couple of minutes, taking note of the lights popping on in the living room and then a few seconds later, in a room upstairs.
He propped his forearms on the steering wheel and leaned forward, gazing at the dark street ahead, debating whether to go to her door and make sure she was okay. It had been a difficult day for her. But as soon as the thought registered, he dismissed it. Bad move. The last thing he needed was to be alone with Hannah. For the first time in his life, he didn’t trust himself. He’d offered her comfort today. But when he’d held her in his arms, he’d known the stirrings of something that had nothing to do with consolation.
He’d made every effort to put last night’s incident in the back of his mind. But now the memory of it came flooding back. He drew in a rush of air as he recalled the way she’d felt in his arms. Passionate and needy.
Playing with fire. That’s what he was doing. Maybe he could afford to get singed once or twice. But Hannah couldn’t. His time in Lake Perdue was limited.
He knew as sure as he was sitting there that the best thing he could do for her was to get away from this house and leave her alone.
Truths and Roses Page 14