Blaire's Ambushed Heart

by Marlene Bierworth

Before they departed the hallway, Blaire heard Liza-Mae say in a rather loud voice, “See, my dear husband? Your precious Blaire has wasted no time in finding new slippers to put under her bed.”

  Blaire paused to gulp down a lump in her throat while David pursed his lips together and tightened his grip on her arm. From behind, she could have sworn she heard a slap followed by a surprised yelp from Liza-Mae, but Blaire didn’t glance back. That night, her focus was forward, and Lyle would have to fight his battles alone.

  Morning broke. The sun filtered through the drapery, blinding Blaire momentarily. She stretched beneath the covers and smiled despite herself. Blaire felt good. Spending time with David had been good medicine for her broken heart. She rolled over she caught sight of the hands on the hall clock.

  “Nine o’clock,” she shouted to no one in particular. She’d better get moving. She and David were meeting for lunch and some sight seeing that afternoon. It felt good for her day to have some purpose.

  Her toes had barely touched the braided matt in front of the bathtub when the doorbell rang. Surely David wouldn’t call on her that early. Maybe something had come up, and he needed to change their plans. Disappointment sprung to her mind, making her realize how much importance she’d placed on seeing David again.

  She dried off quickly and scrambled into a silk housecoat while running for the door. When she peeked through the hall window, she saw that the caller was not David but Lyle, and her shoulders sagged. He had finally found the time to come around to explain. A part of her screamed that she couldn’t bear any more hurt, but a part of her reached out reluctantly to embrace his nearness.

  Blaire took a deep breath and opened the door. Lyle looked so handsome in the morning light, but sad and miserable at the same time. She quickly constructed a wall of protection and commanded her heart to stop thundering in her ears.

  “Good morning, Lyle,” she said, pulling the gown tighter around her. “I’m afraid I’ve slept in and am not ready for callers.”

  “Blaire," he groaned, struggling to gather his faculties as he stood gaping with admiration. “I can wait if you want to change, but it really doesn’t matter. I’ve seen you like this before.”

  “Yes, you have, my dear, ex-husband—oh, excuse me, you never were my legal husband. I guess I’m just the tramp who lived with you for a while.”

  Lyle stormed inside and slammed the door shut behind him. He grabbed her arms, pasted them against her damp body, and tightened his grasp. “Look at me, Blaire.”

  She beheld the pain of a man ripped of his pride and the love for which her heart ached.

  “Regardless of what has happened between us, I want to make it very clear that I never once thought of you as anything but my legal wife. You never just lived with me. I respect you too much to use you, and I beg you to believe me when I say that I never meant to intentionally deceive you. You’re my entire life, and I love you."

  Blaire struggled free of his spell. “You mean I was your entire life and you loved me. Seems to me that your interests have wavered these days.”

  “It might appear that way, but my heart will always belong to you, Blaire. You have to trust me on this."

  “I don’t have to do anything, Lyle,” she said. “I always assumed our relationship was built on trust, and I don’t want to doubt your integrity, but it’s hard when someone else wears your name.”

  “Can we have a coffee and talk?” he asked, offering her his hand.

  Blaire surrendered and took it. His hand felt warm and comfortable, like they’d never been apart. They walked side-by-side to the kitchen in silence, and then he followed behind her around as she prepared the coffee.

  “Why don’t you sit down, Lyle? I’ll get some muffins from the bakery—my heart hasn’t been in cooking for some time. Feel free to begin your torturous unveiling.”

  He sneered at her description of the love story he seemed determined to inflict upon her, and plunked into a kitchen chair. Lyle plunged ahead with his spiel. “I’d left home to sow my wild oats and traveled to the coast, bumming around. I fell in love with the ocean and decided to hang out there for a while. Liza-Mae’s folks had a summerhouse on the beach, and that’s how we met. At first, she was a lot of fun—rebellious like me, with pockets full of money enough to show us a pretty good time. I played the fool, mesmerized by her charm, and allowed her to drag me around.”

  “She seems to have taken over that role again. It suits her," Blaire interrupted.

  “I suppose so. Just like her daddy,” Lyle said, his knuckles clenched so tightly they were turning white.

  Blaire brought carrot muffins to the table and two cups of coffee. She unclenched his fists, gently wrapped his palms around the steaming cup, and sat down across from him. Blaire forced herself to think only of his feelings and pushed hers to the far corners of her mind.

  “Go on,” she urged.

  “One evening, we were a bit tipsy. The sky was filled with stars, the sand was warm, and the water was deliciously calm. We made love. It was a mistake because after that, she became sullen, and I felt guilty, responsible for ruining her innocence. So—we eloped. Both families were devastated, and things went from bad to worse. Her father withdrew his financial support and did not welcome us into their home. My family was hurt by the exclusion, and so we drifted, but she was not made for insecurity. We tried to make it alone—at least, I did—but the honeymoon was over before it even had the chance to begin.”

  Blaire sipped nervously from her coffee cup. She put it down and began to shred her muffin into tiny bite-size pieces.

  “I’m sorry, Blaire. It must be difficult to hear this,” Lyle said.

  “Yes, but necessary,” she said calmly. “Please, go on.”

  “It did not take long for Liza-Mae to realize she couldn’t handle life without her father’s money and she was depressed and angry most of the time. I tried to snap her out of it, but it seemed the only time she was happy was when she was hanging out with her old gang. Then she became pregnant, and I was trapped.”

  Blaire gasped and almost spilled her coffee. “I thought you wanted children.”

  “Not then…or with her.”

  Blaire stood, the child within her gave a slight kick and instead of reveling in this new development, she said, “Would you like more coffee?” Not waiting for an answer, she hurried to the blacktop to get the pot.

  He continued, “I tried to do the responsible thing—get a good job, grow up—but it was never enough. I forced myself to believe in the idea of us until the baby was born, but it turned out he wasn’t mine.”

  “How did you know that?” Blaire asked.

  “Wrong color."

  “Oh.” Blaire felt stuck for words at such betrayal.

  “Of course, with me now questioning our union, her folks began to force their influence on her, and she let their decisions become a reality in her life. They talked her into giving the baby up for adoption. I guess she didn’t care. When I saw that my input was dismissed like the daily trash, I demanded some consideration and support from her. We were married, after all, and I wanted it to work, but it seemed no one else did. She couldn’t hold up under pressure from both sides, and she eventually started to crumble, and fast.”

  Their cups filled to the brim, Blaire sat back down and waited.

  “That last night, we’d been to a live theater, and for once, she was quite hospitable in the buggy on the way home. When the wheel hit a crevice in the wooden bridge, it spooked the horses, and we ended up in the river. I suffered a head injury, and she never resurfaced. Leastways, that’s what I was told. I was young, scared, and intimidated by her class of people who blamed me for killing her. That’s when I hit the road.”

  “And you never contacted them again?”

  “No reason to,” he said. “When I left no one stopped me, so I figured California was history.”

  “It was good to wipe the beach sand off my heels and be back in Minnesota. An epidemic south of here hit
while I was traveling, and I decided to study medicine, then and there. I got my certificate, but instead of continuing on to my home town, I settled here, in Spalding.”

  “How did she find you in this big country of ours?”

  “I forwarded my new address in a weak moment. Maybe I thought her folks would pay for my schooling—I don’t know,” he said, fanning his fingers through his hair. “It was obviously a big mistake on my part. My grief over her death was short-lived and I should have left it alone. I’m quite certain I never loved her, at least, not since meeting you and discovering the real thing.”

  Lyle swallowed hard and looked at his hands. “Anyway, you know the rest. She has somehow arisen from the depths of the afterlife and is proceeding to drag me to hell with her. She claims have been traveling two years now, growing up during the hunt to find me, and I intend to find out why she bothered.” He looked longing at Blaire. “I’ve spent these long days trying to unravel her story and find the holes in it, but she’s prepared, and she has an agenda. I’m just uncertain as to what it is.”

  “Have you confronted her?”

  “You have to understand Liza-Mae—she can explode or crumble at the drop of a hat. She’s baiting me, and until I know what I’m up against, I have to let her think she’s in control. Every moment I spend with her makes me want you more. I swear she is my wife in name only. If you could just trust me a little while longer…”

  “Her reappearance wouldn’t have been such a betrayal had I been aware of her existence. Lyle, you should have told me that you were married before.”

  “When I recall that period of my life, it’s like visualizing two strangers. I’m not that boy on the beach anymore. I figured that if I didn’t think about it anymore, why should you.” He groped for her hand. “But yes, it wasn’t fair to you, and I am truly sorry.”

  “Trust is not easy for me. I let my defenses down with you, and now I fear this will be the final hurt that makes me crazy.”

  “Please, just hang on a while longer. There is a future for the two of us, if you’ll have me back.”

  “You are not in a position to offer me a future, Lyle Frazer.” Although that was true in reality, Blaire could not help but brush a hand across her stomach, tempted to include the helpless number four in their sick triangle, and entice her man to come home faster.

  No—the baby deserved better. “To be honest, I’m tired of fighting for love and acceptance.”

  “Don’t give up, I beg you.” In passing, he blurted out, “Maybe it’s a good thing that your old friend has shown up. You always raved about how you thought so much alike and how he was like a brother you could never marry. He can comfort you while I’m settling this mess.”

  “Strange—I always believed that level of intimacy was a husband’s job.” Blaire straightened her slumped back into her chair. She wouldn’t break in front of him, and she would not play the role of a doting housewife to relieve his guilty conscience. “But you are right about David’s arrival being good timing. Yesterday, when I thought my life was ending, he arrived on the doorstep to get me moving again. David is more than a friend. It’s like we’ve never been apart and I should have seen it earlier.”

  Lyle startled, then downed his coffee in one gulp. "I’m afraid that’s not quite what I wanted to hear—is there any room left for us? Can’t you hope?”

  Blaire struggled to her feet. “Hope? Your Liza-Mae has ambushed our happiness and my heart. I’m too tired at the moment to put one foot in front of the other. I just want to drift on an endless cloud until the fog clears. That’s the best I can muster these days.”

  “I have no right to expect anything from you but please, try to remember that I love you, and I want us to survive this mess.”

  “I’ll try to remember.” Blaire began rinsing the dishes.

  “Let me help you wash them.”

  It was too vivid—all the many days they had spent together at the sink in the kitchen they’d designed for themselves.

  “No, Lyle, that’s not necessary. I’m going out for lunch, so I’d best be getting dressed.”

  “With David?”

  “Yes. He’s in town for a couple of weeks.”

  “I’ll see myself out,” Lyle said. He exhaled a heavy sigh.

  “Lyle, I did want to tell you that I’m in the process of packing. I realize you paid for this house, so you should be here, not me.”

  “Don’t be absurd! I’m staying in the back room at the infirmary. Besides, I want you here when I come back.”

  “I don’t know, Lyle. I can’t promise anything.”

  His covered the distance between them in three large strides. “Blaire, I need to know I haven’t completely lost you, that there’s still a chance. I can’t explain this nagging hunch I have about Liza-Mae; I only know that it’s important to see it through.”

  Lyle touched Blaire’s cheek and lit a fire deep within her that smoldered ever so gently while his eyes bore deep into her soul, the soul she’d merged with his. Locked within his gaze, she remembered—oh, she remembered—the depth of love they’d shared. His fingers touched her lips, outlining them until they parted in a trembling invitation, and he obliged. Their kiss was urgent; each taste ignited yet another familiar spark.

  All too soon, her heart acknowledged the flames were about to devour them. His fingers inched up the small of her back and pressed her against him until she could scarcely breathe. Blaire didn’t want to breathe. She wanted Lyle, her husband, and only him. Her arms wrapped hungrily around his neck in response to his touch, clinging to her past, and at the same time, hoping for a future. In her heart, she was still Mrs. Lyle Frazer, and she would be his wife just this once more.

  Lyle scooped her off her feet and into his arms, and they made their way to the bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind them, shutting out the world threatening to destroy them.

  Chapter 10

  The next few days saw a strange mix of emotions. Lyle had, once again, disappeared from her life, but he managed to produce a spark of hope in Blaire’s existence. She clung to her belief in him, his words of love, and his surety of their future. He had planted the seed deep in her heart, and she was determined to be faithful and nurture it daily.

  David proved to be a pleasant distraction. They spent every waking moment together, strolling the neighborhood, visiting the few shops in Spalding, dining out, and enjoying long walks and buggy rides to see the spectacle of nature all around them,

  Blaire showered everything that Spalding and its surrounding area had to offer upon David, and he lapped it up with boyish enthusiasm. The result of their togetherness was a certain lighthearted joy that Blaire lost while occupied in the serious work tending to the sick and dying. In Spalding, while working at Lyle’s side, the melancholy retreated, and it had done so with a different brand of fury at his departure. The joy she felt now came gift wrapped in country charm, and she was grateful.

  As children, David and Blaire had always felt at ease with one another. The need for pretense between them did not exist, nor was the need to clarify each moment. They simply knew one another from a depth that required no boundaries or questions. Blaire had missed that childhood security when David had returned from the war a broken and changed man, but she sensed that the old had somehow become new, and it fit well with his newfound level of maturity.

  Perhaps she should have listened to her father and waited for David to find himself, for he obviously had in her absence, and it gave her mind no rest trying to figure it all out. Blaire drank in the comfort his presence provided, greedily gobbling everything the man offered her flailing heart. She invited him back into her confidence and clung to the newly revived friendship.

  That evening, Blaire readied herself to see a special outdoor live theater performance that the actors’ committee—who even dreamed Spalding had one of those—were performing in the green space just outside of town. She scheduled all afternoon to prepare for the event. A long, leisurely bath left her
smelling like lilacs, and as she fitted into the stiff bodice jacket supported by life-sucking steel strips, she sighed at the energy ladies expended to wear the latest fashions. Her dress was heavily embellished, but the modest square neck-line and three-quarter sleeve suited the outside event.

  She thought fondly of her work dress, the brisk white bib-apron, and nurse’s cap she’d cleaned and folded carefully away for the time being. That outfit was the most comfortable attire she owned, but she would not be working that night as she hadn’t done in over two weeks.

  Blair focused on her evening dress again. The color of the skirt matched the bodice, a soft turquoise that made her eyes appear as complimenting accessories. The overskirt gathered at the back with copious amounts of fabric, supported by a bustle and attached to a crinoline. The entire procedure was enough to almost make one exhausted from the effort of dressing, and at times like these, she missed her childhood nanny who’d managed all the strenuous procedures so Blaire could emerge unblemished by the activity.

  Surely, a man had no idea—unless, of course, they were married. Lyle had assisted her on Sundays or special occasions these past months, but now it all fell to her.

  At the mirror, she rolled her hair in curls on top of her head and fastened it with combs over a puffed round in the front, with tiny strands of bangs hanging down to cover her high forehead. The rest flowed down her neck bone at the back in a single ringlet.

  The finished product was the best she could do. It felt good to dress up. It made her feel like she was part of the community again, and she could hardly wait for David to come calling.

  After a wonderful meal at Millie’s Diner, she and David walked the short distance to the meadow where wagons, carriages, and horses littered the field. The mood was festive. People gathered on three sides and blankets scattered in a semi-circle around an area at the front set up as a stage.

  Marnie hurried over as soon as she saw Blaire and grabbed her hands enthusiastically. “Isn’t it marvelous? You won’t even recognize the actors in their get-ups. The committee has outdone themselves this year, but, of course, this is your first time, so you will be thoroughly impressed.” She looked sideways at David. “Hello, again. Nice to see you’re still here,” she said with a quirky smile that said anything but. Her loyalties obviously lay with Lyle.