Bayou Bride

by Bobbi Smith

  "It's Nick. I'm here," Nick murmured, tears clouding his vision as he gazed down at his dying father. The harsh sound of Charles's shallow breathing seemed to fill the room, and Nick knew from what little the doctor had been able to tell him that his father didn't have long.

  As if from a great distance, Charles heard the longed-for sound of his son's voice. Fighting his way up from the black well of unconsciousness, he opened his eyes to find Nick leaning over him.

  "Dominic..." he gasped, groping blindly for his hand.

  "I'm here," Nick repeated as he took his father's hand in his and held it firmly. There was no answering strength in Charles's grip.

  "I'm glad..." he wheezed, fighting for air. "I needed... needed to see you again.. .To tell you..."

  "Please, don't try to talk," Nick told him as he sat down on the bed beside him, not letting go of his hand. "Just save your strength... rest. I promise I'll stay right here with you. I won't leave."

  Charles relaxed a bit, but his gaze never left his son. He drank in the sight of him, so tall and handsome and strong. "You were always a good boy..." He paused, straining for breath. "Where's Jordan? Is she here? And Peri?"

  "We're here, Uncle Charles," Peri answered, coming with Jordan to the opposite side of the bed. "Both of us..."

  "Good... Jordan?"

  "Yes?" She bent over him so he could see her more clearly.

  He took her hand in his feeble grasp, holding it with Nick's. "I want you two to promise me something..."

  "Anything," Nick replied quickly, his throat tight, his eyes burning.

  "Anything," Jordan added.

  "Let your love be stronger than your troubles..." He closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked at them again, his gaze was burning in its intensity, mirroring the depth of his wisdom. "Trust one another completely and always be honest with each other... honesty is so important... You're partners in life now. Do everything you can to make your happiness last for eternity..."

  His words pierced Jordan's heart like arrows. She did love Nick with all her heart and soul, but he didn't love her. No matter how she wanted to pretend everything was fine, it wasn't. There were too many lies between them. After Charles was gone, she would lose Nick, too. Tears fell unheeded down her cheeks as she managed a trembling smile for the dying man.

  "I love Nick, Charles. He's my whole life," she professed her innermost feelings in a quaking voice. She glanced up at Nick then, the truth of her emotions clearly revealed in her shining, emerald eyes. If in that moment Nick had but said the word, she would have stayed with him forever. But he didn't, and she knew it was hopeless. She was dreaming. It would never be.

  Nick's gaze met hers, and he saw the love reflected in her expression. A wild leap of emotion shot through him, but the realist in him cast it aside. He loved her, and he would have told her so right then and there, if he'd thought it would make a difference. But he knew the love she'd confessed before his father was a sham. He was sure that as soon as his father was gone, she would be gone, too. There was no point in making a fool out of himself. He knew the truth of how it was between them.

  "Be happy... as Andrea and I were," Charles was saying. "Nick ...your mother was so beautiful, and I loved her so much..." He turned his failing gaze to the portrait of his wife, and a serene smile curved his lips as he sighed her name, "Andrea ...my love..."

  In that moment of contentment and beauty, Charles left the agony of his weakened body behind to seek the glory of heavenly perfection. The pain faded away, lost in the swirling mist that had been his life. He was peace-filled at last, and he soared up ward toward the vision of light and purity. His heart was near to bursting with happiness as he sought the woman he loved. When he found her, their reunion was a starburst of eternal bliss, and they were united in spirit for all time. Freed from earthly concerns, his hand fell away from Nick's and Jordan's.

  "Father..." The sorrow Nick had fought to control threatened to overwhelm him. The muscles in his jaw worked as he struggled to subdue the agony that filled his heart and his mind. "Oh, God, he's gone..."

  He lifted his burning, tear-filled gaze to Jordan's, and she could see all the pain he was feeling etched clearly on his face. Jordan held tightly to his hand, her own sorrow and sympathy showing in her eyes. She wanted to comfort him, to ease the burden of his grief. The moment was interrupted by Peri, who went to Nick and hugged him. His gaze was torn from Jordan's, and he was forced to release her hand as he hugged his heartbroken cousin. He closed his eyes against the sight of his father's lifeless body and the one woman he loved, but could never have.

  Jordan stood there, separated from Nick by more than the mere width of the bed. She felt the outsider. Watching the two cousins embrace, she knew the end had come. The charade was finished. The last act done. Charles had gone from them. Her role was finished.

  Jordan waited just a little longer, a last fading hope and desperate prayer still echoing in her heart. Then, when the vestige of her dream had been reduced to dust, she quietly took one last look at the old man who'd been her friend and backed from the room.

  In the hall alone, Jordan finally gave vent to her despair. Leaning weakly against the wall, she cried, drowning in a sea of sadness - Only the gentle sound of Weddington's voice brought her back.

  "Miss Jordan...?"

  With all the dignity of the lady of the house, she drew herself up and wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks. "Oh, Weddington..." she half-sobbed, half-sighed. "Charles is dead..."

  The butler remained standing rigidly, but his expression gave away his wretchedness. Tears spilled forth, and he didn't even try to hide them. "Yes, ma'am, Miss Jordan. Shall I see to the arrangements?"

  "Please ...I'm sure Nick would appreciate any help you could give him," she instructed.

  Weddington went on into Charles's bedroom to speak with Nick, while Jordan started downstairs. The front door opening unannounced frightened her, but her fear was soon relieved when she saw it was Slater.

  "Jordan, how is he?"

  "Oh, Slater..." Her well of misery overflowed again, and she went to him, going easily into his supportive embrace. "It's over..."

  "Where's Nick?"

  "Upstairs... with his father..."

  Slater pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then hurried up the steps to console his friend.

  It was very, very late, and Nick was very, very drunk. He sat alone on the steps of the gallery on the side of the house near the gardens. For once in his life, he had out-drunk Slater, but he was so far gone that he didn't even realize his friend had stumbled off to bed an hour before. In fact, when Nick looked up from pondering the mysteries of the life and death in his half-full glass of whiskey, it was the first time that he really noticed Slater wasn't there.

  A snort of sad derision escaped Nick as he considered the state of his loneliness this day. First, his father had left him. Then he'd looked up and Jordan had been gone. And now Slater had deserted him too.

  Nick took another slug of the liquor, hoping it would erase the terrible aching emptiness that filled him, but nothing seemed to be able to touch the place deep in his chest where his heart had once been. He tilted his head back and gazed up drunkenly at the moonless sky. Tonight he did not see the beauty of it. Tonight he did not see the myriad of twinkling stars that dotted the heavens and granted many a lover's wish. Tonight he only saw a vast, black, hollow emptiness.

  Unbidden memories came to mind, memories of his mother, laughing and holding him close, whispering in his ear that she loved him and would never let him go. She had left him, though, he thought bitterly, and he'd needed her so desperately.

  Nick took another drink. The image of his father's face when he'd first told him of his illness flashed through his mind, and Nick wished he could turn the clock back and relive the past months. He felt so utterly stupid, having wasted all those weeks courting women when he should have been at his father's side.

  At the time, Nick had thought he was doing the
right thing trying to find a wife to make his father happy. But what value did Riverwood really have compared to the priceless minutes he could have spent with him? Right now, he would have gladly traded all his wealth just to have his father back with him for one day, one hour, one minute...

  Then there was Jordan. He chugged another swig of whiskey, then threw the tumbler with all his might out into the darkness of the night. It crashed and shattered against some unseen, unyielding force, yet he took no satisfaction in the destruction. He felt only desolation and heartache, bitterness and misery. He was alone, and he would remain that way.

  Grabbing one of the pillars, he jockeyed himself to his feet. He stood on the top step, swaying drunkenly, as he surveyed his domain. He owned everything as far as the eye could see, and yet right now it meant less than nothing to him. What good were riches if there was no one to share them with? What good was life without love?

  Nick turned back inside, making his way through the rooms and halls he knew so well. His surroundings were familiar, but there was no warmth in them. Tonight everything seemed empty and meaningless. He mounted the steps slowly with unsteady tred, then made his way down the hall to his bedroom. He stood before the door for a long moment, then opened it and went in.

  The curtains were parted, but the room was dark. Nick stared at his bed where his lovely wife rested in easy comfort, then turned away and sat down heavily on the sofa he had chosen for his own so long ago.

  Nick leaned back and closed his eyes, but sleep would not come. Instead, his mind was filled with visions of Jordan. Tormented, he rubbed his eyes wearily, trying to erase her from his thoughts, but to no avail. Then, almost as if by miracle, he heard her call his name in a soft, desperate voice. Nick honestly thought he was dreaming. He sat still, listening, waiting, and finally her call came again. He rose, drawn magnetically by her siren's song to the side of the bed.

  It surprised Nick to find Jordan asleep. Mesmer ized by her beauty, he stood over her, watching her rest. He had never known feelings like the ones he had for her. The love he felt was twisted inside him with the hate and distrust he also harbored toward her. Like a mass of coiling venomous snakes, they roiled inside of him, leaving him hopelessly confused and embittered.

  Drunk as he was, though, Nick's defense against his desire for her was weak. In a moment of overwhelming temptation, he couldn't resist touching her. With a gentle caress, Nick stroked the silken glory of her hair, then touched the softness of her cheek.

  "Nick..." Jordan murmured his name again as her eyes slowly fluttered open. She had tossed and turned for hours before finally falling asleep. Hers had not been a restful sleep, but one filled with tormented visions of Luther and Kirkwood, Charles and Nick.

  In her nightmare, she'd been trapped in a maze of horrors with no way out. Hands had clawed at her, grinning, leering faces had loomed over her, and taunting, laughing voices had resounded in her ears. Over and over she called out for Nick, wanting him, needing him. Finally she could see the way out of the maze and Nick was there waiting for her, his arms spread wide in loving welcome. As if in homecoming, she went into his arms and was enveloped in the warmth of his embrace. Jordan felt safe and secure, loved and protected. She lifted her face, wanting his kiss, and he bent toward her...

  Half awake, half asleep, Jordan stared up at Nick with an expression of pure rapture on her face. She couldn't believe he was actually there, and she wasn't about to question the answer to her prayers. She loved him so...

  Jordan knew that with the light of day she would have to leave him, but for tonight she would know the thrill of his possession again and keep this memory alive in her heart for the rest of her life. Even if only for one night, it would be worth it.

  "Oh, Nick..." she whispered his name. She turned to his palm to press a tender kiss there while her arms looped about his neck, drawing him down to her.

  There was no resistance in Nick as he melded with Jordan. There was only need and passion. No words were spoken as they sought solace in one another's arms. His kisses and caresses told her everything she needed to know-that at this moment he wanted and desired her. Jordan knew she would have to be satisfied with that.

  Giving herself over to the surging excitement his touch created within her, Jordan allowed herself only to feel. She gave no thought to tomorrow, she lived only for the moment, surrendering her innermost being to the glory of Nick's possession.

  His kisses were drugging, his touch excruciating as he ripped her gown from her in his eagerness to bare her flesh. Her body seemed to vibrate with a life of its own as his hands sought out her most sensitive places and tormented her with knowing caresses. She was his, completely and wholly. She would never want another, there would be only Nick... Clinging to him, she sobbed his name over and over again as he brought her to the fullest of sensual pleasure.

  Nick felt her body convulse with delight and knew complete triumph. With impatient hands, he discarded his own clothes, then moved over her temporarily sated body. He found her wet and warm and willing as he slipped deep within her womanly sheath. It seemed as if Jordan had been made for him and him alone. Held captive in the tightness of her love, he began to move.

  Nick wanted to share the ecstasy with her. He began to kiss and caress her again in his eagerness to know the heights of their desire. Kiss after burning kiss left them both gasping for breath. His lips left hers then, trailing down the sensitive chords of her throat to her shoulder, then lower.

  "Nick ...oh, Nick, please..." Jordan cried, longing for the feel of his mouth upon her throbbing breasts.

  Mindless with the driving hunger of his love for her, Nick suckled at that delicate flesh, drawing moans of ecstasy from Jordan. She began to move restlessly beneath him as he continued his sensual assault. Her legs entwined his, and she strained to get closer to him, to have him fill once more the fiery emptiness that seemed to grow unbound within her.

  "Jordan..." Nick groaned. "You're so perfect I love making you mine ...I need you so..."

  "Love me, Nick. Oh, please, love me..." she pleaded mindlessly.

  Rising back up over her, he plunged deeper and deeper, his rhythm growing faster and faster. His thrusts were powerful as he sought love's ultimate release. When it came, like a bolt of lightning in the midst of a turbulent storm, he called out her name in a passionate plea. They were carried to the heights of desire on a wild wind, peaking and hovering in ecstatic oblivion, then plunging back to reality, their bodies joined, their limbs still clinging to one another.

  Nick shifted away first. His passion drained away, he could no longer resist the whiskey's potency. A deep sleep claimed him.

  Jordan lay perfectly still after he'd withdrawn from her and without a word fallen into his drunken slum her. A silent tear streaked down her cheek, but she paid it no mind. Her thoughts were elsewhere, thinking about what had just happened between them and how it would never happen again. It was over. No matter how much she wished things were different, they weren't. Nick didn't love her. He never had and he never would.

  Jordan drew a shaking breath and pushed herself up on one elbow to gaze down at Nick. She longed to touch him, to caress the hard muscles of his torso, to kiss him awake and tell him of her love, but she couldn't. It was finished. Now that Charles was dead the bargain had been completed. She would stay for the funeral, she owed Nick-and Charles-that much. But as soon as it was over she would leave. It was the only way...

  It was a sunless day. The sky was a leaden gray, threatening rain, as the mourners gathered at the family cemetery to hear the priest say the final blessing. When Charles's body had been interred with his beloved Andrea's in the crypt, the man of God intoned his prayers, granting him peace and everlasting life.

  Clad in black, Nick stood tall and straight as he listened to the priest's words. His handsome face was frozen into a stony mask as he fought with grim determination to master his emotions. He was refusing to think or feel. Later, when he was alone, there would be time for h
is grief and sorrow, but he would not, could not, face them now.

  Jordan stood beside Nick, clothed in dark colors, her manner quiet, pensive, and subdued. The veil she wore hid her tear-ravaged countenance from the onlookers. Her heart was heavy with sorrow as she listened to the priest's prayers.

  The priest was talking about being born to a new life, how the end of one was the beginning of another, and Jordan felt he was not only talking about Charles, but about her, too. She knew that when she left Riverwood she would be starting over. But where Charles had gone on to a heavenly existence with his wife, her next life would be a living hell, for she would be leaving her heart and soul behind, here with Nick.

  Jordan let her gaze sweep across the crowd of friends and family who had gathered to pay their respects to Charles. Peri and Slater were there, along with her parents. The neighbors had come, along with Dr. Williams and Charles's lawyer, Aaron O'Neil. She recognized everyone and was glad that they'd come. But when a dark carriage drew up, its windows shrouded, she stiffened.

  Her gaze was drawn to the mysterious vehicle, and she was glad for the protection of the veil that allowed her to watch without anyone knowing. Her heartbeat quickened as the door swung slowly open, and she waited with bated breath for the unknown occupant to step down. The minute Kirkwood appeared in the doorway of the carriage, Jordan recognized him. She swallowed tightly, again immensely grateful for the covering of the veil that hid her pale features from any prying eyes. Frightened, Jordan turned back toward the priest and began adding her own fervent prayers to his.

  Now that Jordan was nervous, the service seemed as if it would never end. Her whole being was alive with the knowledge that Kirkwood was standing only a short distance away. Jordan believed she could almost feel his eyes upon her, ripping away protection of her veil and mourning clothes and revealing to all present the murderess who'd fled justice in England.

  Jordan clasped her hands together tightly in front of her. It looked like she was praying, but in truth it was the only way she could control her shaking. A desperate voice inside of her begged God to let the service end so she could escape Kirkwood's loathsome presence and hide in the sanctity of the house. As if in answer to her prayers, a low rumble of thunder echoed around them, drawing all eyes upward to the threatening clouds that now loomed overhead.