Echoes of Tomorrow (32 page)

"But whyever not?"  Angeline's whine at this latest obstacle pierced his eardrums.  "The almanac says the weather will be perfect for an outdoor wedding.  And with over three hundred guests it will have to be out of doors, so I..."

"Let's just say I have a personal aversion to getting married on the twenty-second of June, and leave it at that.  If you want to wed on that day, find someone else with whom to do it."  Please!

His vehement tone must have convinced her not to press the issue.  She gave a little huff and flicked out a fold or two in her skirts before turning back to the calendar.

"Do you have any prejudices against the twenty-third?  Or perhaps you should tell me what days you do not have aversions to."

Reed passed a weary hand over his eyes.  He looked heavenward for strength.

"I have no preference, Angeline, other than what I have already stated.  Consult your almanac.  Plan the wedding for any day you wish, other than the twenty-second, and I will show up."

"Really, Reed.  You act as though I am planning no more than a casual outing.  This is your wedding, too, I will have you know.  And under the circumstances...Reed!  Where are you going?  Reed Blackwell, you come back here!"

He slid the parlor doors closed and made it all the way to the foyer before the crash of breaking glass sounded against them.  Probably the Waterford decanter.  Nell would not be happy about that.

A freshening breeze swirled around him when he stepped onto the veranda.  It blew away some of the miasma blanketing his brain and gave birth to a longing to plunge into the cool stream Elise had frolicked in earlier.

He pulled out the gold pocket watch left to him by his father and snapped the cover open.  Two o'clock.  Plenty of time for a swim before the horse race.  Most of his guests were already lounging or napping in their rooms.  The only ones braving the heat of the day were the younger folk, involved in a competitive game of croquet.

He discouraged any idle conversation seekers by striding purposefully away from the house.  He didn't care if he looked like a man trying to escape something.  He was deep in thought, and the farther he moved into the woods, the deeper his thoughts became.

Elise.  Never had a woman so intrigued him.  She invaded his waking and sleeping thoughts completely.  How was he to ever find any happiness married to one woman and in love with another?  Could he ever take Angeline to his bed?  He doubted if it would be physically possible, if he were to remain in this frame of mind. 

He only wished he had found it so impossible several weeks ago.

God, what a mess.

The stream appeared through the trees, and Reed followed the bank north to a section he knew was deep enough for his needs.

Overwhelmed with the need for the cool water to wash away his thoughts, he grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it over his head.  The boots and socks came off next, and his breeches ended up on top of the pile, inside-out.  His fingers fumbled on the drawstring to his smallclothes before he faltered.  Best to leave those on with all the extra people roaming the grounds.

He trotted to a flat rock protruding above the stream, and without slowing, hurled himself into the air.  Muscles knotted with tension as he slid into the water with barely a splash.

A passerby would have feared for Reed's life, so long was he under the water.  The surface remained smooth and undisturbed until he exploded from it, clear to his waist, at least fifty feet upstream.

The water was cool enough to be refreshing and take his mind from his problems.  He blinked the water from his eyes, then dove deep to reach the bed and stir up murky clouds.  He followed the slimy bottom until his lungs began to burn, then surfaced to race upstream again.

He didn't know or care how long he'd been swimming.  He kept at it until his muscles ached and a welcome fatigue crept over him.  The pile of clothing he'd left on the bank was not far, so he submerged one last time, then rose to fling his hair from his eyes and wade to the sandy shore.

Waves of heat engulfed Elise's neck, then moved to more disconcerting parts of her body.  She could hear her heart pounding in her ears over her shallow, ragged breathing.

He looked like one of those perfect men in cologne commercials, rising out of the water.  But a Speedo never looked as sexy as the clinging, transparent fabric hanging lop-sided and precarious on Reed's hips.

In her mind, she could feel her hands trace the uniform ridges outlining his stomach.  Her index finger would draw a lazy, winding path from his chest to his navel, and she would watch his muscles contract and hear his indrawn breath when her finger slipped under the drawstring to flick it loose.

She inhaled sharply to avoid releasing a sob.  Her eyes burned, then swelled with hot tears.  The pain inside was a living thing, with claws that ripped and tore at her soul.

How can I stay here and watch him marry someone else?  How can I leave and never see him again?

Reed flopped to the ground beside his pile of clothes.  He lay back, one knee drawn up, his right arm draped over his eyes.

He looked the picture of relaxation until his left hand balled into a fist and slammed onto the grass beside his hip.

He cursed, grabbed his pants from the pile and jumped to his feet, all in one movement.  One leg rammed into a pant leg, then the other.  He swore again and yanked them off, only to turn them right-side-out and repeat the process.

Elise ducked and started backing away.  She hadn't expected to find him here; she'd thought he was in the parlor with the witch, planning their wedding.  That's why she'd borrowed a horse from the stable and taken a long, hard ride.  Now if she could just get to the tree where she'd tied the mare.  The last thing she needed right now was to come face to face with Reed.

Her eyes stayed on him and the flurry of clothing while she backed away from the scene.  That was her first mistake.  Her second mistake was stepping into the front door of a ground squirrel’ burrow.  She only had time to grab for the spindly shrub branches before she crashed to the ground.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Reed jerked his head up at the thrashing in the underbrush. His shirt hung from his fingers, forgotten.  With eyes squinted, he peered into the shadows lining the woods and saw yellow flashes of movement.  He finished pulling his sleeve right-side-out and slipped on his shirt before going to investigate.

His heart lurched with a mixture of pain and joy when he saw Elise yank the skirt of her gown from a bush.  She looked up and stared at him.

They stood frozen for a second, then Elise said the word "No."  It was more a sob than a word.  She spun around and ran, the hem of her gown bunched high in her fists.

"Elise!  Wait!"

Reed looked at his boots several yards away, then back to Elise.  The woman was running with the speed of a man, and if he didn't catch her soon he'd have no chance to talk to her.  And they needed to talk.

The floor of the forest held all sorts of painful, sharp objects, and it seemed every rock, acorn and thorn gathered itself under his bare feet.  After several seconds of hopping from one foot to another, he gritted his teeth and took off at a sprint.

Elise darted glances over her shoulder at him as she ran.  Her speed increased when she saw him gaining on her.  It wasn't until they burst into a small, grassy clearing that Reed was able to plant his feet firmly enough to catch up to her.

By the time he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around she was crying too hard to put up much of a fight.  She knocked his hands from her shoulders, then slapped them away when he tried to hold her.

"Just leave me alone!  Leave me alone!" she cried, and shoved him backward before running away again.

He was not about to let her get away again.  He caught up with her in seconds and threw both arms around her to pin her arms to her sides.  The momentum of his body carried them both to the ground, and he threw himself under her to cushion her fall.  They rolled for several feet over rocks and fallen twigs, and when they stopped they both lay there, catching their breaths and moaning in pain.

Elise was the first to move.

"Get off me, you big jerk."  She shoved at his leg draped across her thighs.  "Ow!  OW!  I think I pulled a muscle in my neck!"

She tried to sit up but fell back, her hand massaging her neck while she glared at him.  Each movement caused a wince when she gingerly worked her head back and forth.

"Oh, God, I think you've broken my neck."

Reed struggled to his elbows and stifled a few winces of his own.

"Here, let me see."  He leaned over her and tried to get a glimpse of her neck.  Tugging at her hand only increased her anger.

"No!  OW!  Damn you, leave me alone!"  She shoved at his chest, but he refused to be budged.

"Elise, stop being childish.  If your neck is truly hurt we need to know.  This could be very serious."

She glared at him for an eternity, her green eyes vibrant behind unshed tears.  Finally, she jerked her hand away and stared off into the distance.

Reed knelt before her on one knee and laid his fingers against the warm, ivory column of her neck.  His fingers tenderly massaged her skin, evoking in him happier times when he'd been free to touch her.  Reminding himself that she might be injured, he rotated her head a bit with both hands.  The examination lasted several minutes before he leaned back and stared at her, allowing a serious frown to crease his brow.

"Show me exactly where it hurts the most."

Elise still refused to look at him but reached up and outlined the tendon running from her ear to her shoulder.

"Hmmmm.  I see."

He leaned forward again, savoring the feel of her hair as he brushed away any remaining tendrils.  He placed his hands on the grass by each side of her head.

"Tell me if this makes it feel better."

His breath stirred her hair a second before his lips touched her neck.  She stiffened as a white-hot fire exploded through his body.  His lips worked their way up the sensitive tendon to the hollow beneath her ear.  He stopped to sample the sweet taste of her earlobe.  A burning river of passion snaked through his body when she arched her neck toward him and drew up one knee in a sure sign of pleasure.

He followed the soft, heated path back down her neck, gently nibbling and tasting until he reached the outline of her collarbone.  He could feel her pulse racing.  Her sweet, salty taste lingered on his tongue.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?" he murmured while his lips still caressed her skin.

He felt, rather than saw, her head nod.

When he lifted his eyes she was staring at him.  She held his gaze while she raised her hand to unbutton her bodice and untie the ribbons of her chemise.  She pulled the left side away and guided his head down to just above her heart.  Her voice broke when she spoke.

"I hurt here."

A flash of pain and electricity coursed through him.  He felt an unfamiliar burning behind his eyelids and a painfully familiar burning everywhere else.

He lowered his head and kissed the indicated area with infinite tenderness, forcing himself to be slow and gentle, no matter how torturous it was on him.  His mouth lingered on the velvety swell until her shaking hands came up to drag the hindering fabric aside.

A ragged moan tore from his throat at her gesture.  He was wracked with an exquisite, pulsing ache.  It was all he could do to keep from ripping the fabric completely from her. 

As he kissed away the pain as thoroughly as he knew how, soft, gentle hands cupped each side of his face and lifted his head.  Her voice was so husky he barely recognized it.

"Let's see if I can find where you hurt." 

She rolled to her side and pushed him onto his back.  A little gasp escaped her when she saw his open shirt.  Angry, red scratches from the bushes he’d chased her through zig-zagged across his chest.

She brought her hand up to caress the line of his jaw, and her eyes spoke an apology for running from him.  Her gaze never left his as she lowered her head to his chest to find each scratch with her lips.

Her mouth traced the outline of every wound, and the heat of her tongue seared him like a branding iron.  His fingers reached down to entangle themselves in her hair, the hair that fanned across his chest in an ever downward movement.  He closed his eyes to keep them from rolling upward.

After kissing and paying homage to every scratch she could find, she moved her hands over his body in search of more injuries.  He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"Ohhh," she breathed in a whisper, "a massage might help you here."

His whole body jerked at her exploring touch, and his breath caught in his throat.  He tried to swallow but there was no moisture left in his mouth.  The heat of her hand on him burned like a flame.

"Then again," she teased, "I think you'd be better off to soak it in something warm."

The thin thread of his self-control snapped with her words.  A primal moan rumbled in his throat.  He rolled atop her and yanked off his shirt.

Her eyes were alive with the heat of desire, her hands busy with the waistband of his trousers.

His gaze left hers only long enough to find her lacings.  Elise worked as frantically as he, pulling and ripping at their clothing, desperate to remove all the barriers.

Finally!  His hand found the silky smoothness he sought.  He rolled to his side only long enough to rid himself of his trousers.

"Missss Elllissse!  Helloooo!  Misss Elllissse!"

They froze, two statues lying on the grass with bits and pieces of clothing scattered around them like colorful leaves from the trees.

"DAMN!" Reed roared.  "Damndamndamndamndamn!"  He slammed his fists into the earth, punctuating each and every curse.

Elise simply lay there, staring at the sky, a look of pained defeat etched solidly into her features, one lone tear sliding toward the ground.

It's just not meant to be, she thought.  No, it was more than a thought.  It was a feeling of certainty that dragged her down and held her pinned to the ground.

Her body still tingled, every nerve ending alive with the feel of Reed.  Her mouth still tasted his.  His scent still lingered in each uneven breath she took.  Yet she felt as though someone had tossed cold water on her, then laid the world on top of her.

Reed brought what he could find of her clothing and laid the pile beside her.  He knelt, ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek in a loving caress.  Her eyes closed in a slow blink before she turned to him, expressionless.

"Stay here, little one.  That's Big John.  I'll go find out what he wants before he gets here."  His eyes were apologetic beneath the tumbled waves of his hair, his voice husky with the passion he'd been unable to release.

She watched him walk away, his shirt-tail crammed haphazardly into his waistband.  He had to stop every few feet to knock something off the bottom of his bare feet before he limped on.

His image blurred, then cleared when she blinked.  Twin tears cut separate paths down her cheeks.  Her heart felt like a balloon with a slow leak.  She could feel it shriveling inside.  Soon there would be nothing left.

I have to get away, she thought.  I can't stay here and torture both of us.

She heard Big John's voice coming closer.  Reed hadn't caught him soon enough.

"Well, Mistah Reed, Belle done come back to the stables without Miss Elise.  She have a piece of tree branch still tied in her reins, so I knowed Miss Elise be all right.  I was just afeared she be having a long walk back to the house."

She couldn't hear Reed's muffled reply.  She knew though, that she couldn't go back to that house.  It was time for her to leave, and now was as good a time as any.

With wearying effort she sat up and slipped on her bodice.  The tiny buttons were a hassle to deal with now, when only minutes ago she hadn't even noticed them.  She'd skipped one somewhere in her buttoning, but what difference did it make?

When she rose to fasten her waistband, a knifing pain shot through her ankle.  She caught herself before she fell, but sank to the ground when she tried a second time to put weight on her ankle.

"Damn."

This was definitely not her day.

*******

"Nothing broken, little lady.  Just a bit of a sprain.  Why, with ankles that tiny it would take very little to turn one."  Doctor Freeport peered at her over his rectangular glasses, then raised his head and looked down through the lenses at the ankle in question.

She heard Angeline "hummph."

Elise didn't know what kind of story Reed had told them about what happened.  And she didn't care.  She'd already come back to the house once today looking like a drowned rat, her gown plastered to her body.  Luckily Marisa had been with her to sing her praises. 

This time she was carried in by a frantic Reed.  Both of them had stains of grass and dirt all over them. 
Oh, well.  Let the gossips make of it what they will.

A twinge of pain brought her attention back to her ankle.

"Should she not be in bed, Doctor Freeport?"  Angeline's voice interrupted the examination.  "Big John can carry the poor thing upstairs to her room, where she belongs."

"Nooo, noooo.  Not necessary.  No need for Miss Gerard to miss the festivities."  He placed another cool cloth on the swollen limb.  "Just keep it elevated and cool." 

He turned his attention to Reed.  "Have Tessa mix a lump of alum about the size of an English walnut with the whites of two eggs and stir that until it jellies.  Then have her soak a cloth in it and apply that to her ankle.  Just put a fresh one on when it starts to dry, and do that for at least two days."

His glasses crept down while he spoke until they were barely perched on the tip of his nose.  He eyed Reed over them, then shoved them into place with his index finger.  He shook his head and spoke to Reed in a low voice.

"And as for what ails you, son, I'd be a rich man if I could come up with a remedy for that."

Elise heard the comment, even though she was sure she wasn't meant to.

She glanced at Reed and saw that he was in worse shape than she was.  Bits of dried grass and dirt clung to his hair and arms where his skin was sticky from chasing her.  An occasional dot of red marred his shirt from the many scratches on his chest.  At least his clothes were in order, thanks to Big John.

The huge black man had had no problem sizing up the situation.  He'd probably already known before he ever stepped into the clearing.

Reed had been so upset when he'd seen her ankle he would have carried her to the house then and there.  But Big John's low voice had cut into Reed's plans.

"Now Mistah Reed, you knows you can't be walking into the big house, carrying a lady in the shape you in.  Why, people get the wrong idea."

He'd had Reed's boots retrieved, the worst of the grass knocked off, and his shirt properly tucked in, in no time.

Too bad he couldn't have done something about Reed's face.  If it had been haggard before, now he looked positively tormented.

Elise felt a little of the numbness begin to fall away from her heart and a warmth steal in when she looked at Reed.  She struggled against the warmth.  It was easier if she stayed numb.

"Yessir, just keep it elevated and use that poultice.  I'll come around tomorrow for a look see.  No need for bed rest unless the little lady is tired."  Doctor Freeport pumped Reed's hand and gave him a sympathetic pat on his shoulder before leaving.

Lil fussed with the cushions and pillows.  She fluffed and pounded and rearranged them while she mumbled to herself.  "If one is plump, one does not run.  There are distinct advantages to being voluptuous."

Angeline glared at the doctor's back, then flicked a disgusted look toward Lil.

"What does he know?  He's not much better than a horse doctor."  She swung around to Reed after the doctor had left the room.  "I still think you should have Big John take her upstairs."

Elise's voice stopped Angeline's whining.

"Oh, Angeline."

The woman turned to look at Elise.

"Butt out."  Elise filled her face with as much sweetness as Angeline's was filled with hate.

"Why, you common little..."

Reed opened his mouth to cut off Angeline's outraged attack, but Nicholas came bounding into the room to effectively do the job.

"Miss Elise!  Golly, look at your leg!  It's so big.  Does it hurt?"

Elise smiled at Nicholas's concerned little face and stifled the urge to wince.

"Only when I laugh, Nick."  And she didn't expect to do a lot of that.  When the throb grew worse she fought a grimace. 
What I wouldn't give for a handful of painkillers.

Nicholas studied the swollen appendage with awe.  A pudgy finger hovered in an apparent urge to touch it.  He somehow managed not to.  Instead he rammed his hands into his pockets and shook his head.

"It's too bad you are grown, Miss Elise.  Or else someone could kiss it and make it better.  At least that's what Momma does...used to do when I was small."