Home Before Dark (26 page)

She stood and lifted the hair from her nape. “Then we'd better go rehearse for the wedding night.”

He rose and held out one hand, palm up. “Come here, senorita.”

As the mariachis strummed the last tribute of the night, he took her in his arms, this fine, beautiful, tattooed woman he wanted so badly in his life, and he danced with her. He was a lousy dancer, hopelessly out of practice, but he knew how to hold a woman in his arms and how to move with a slow, deliberate suggestion of what he really wanted to do.

“I've got something of my own to confess,” he said, and leaned down to whisper into her ear.

“I don't speak Spanish very well,” she whispered back.

“I'll tutor you.”

The mariachis' soft lament ended with a shimmer of sound. Dusty paid Felix in American dollars and took her hand. It was a short walk to the Posada Santa Maria, where they were staying the night.

The sleepy desk clerk nodded to them as they passed beneath a stone archway to an inner cloister, arranged in a square around a shadowy garden. Jessie's face shone as they crossed the torchlit courtyard, where they paused to admire the poinsettias blooming in profusion.

Jessie seemed drawn to a vast climbing vine espaliered along one wall. “Honeysuckle,” she said. “Oh, and jasmine. It smells like heaven here.” She nearly tripped over the bent figure of a man who straightened up in time to move out of the way.

“Excuse me,” Jessie said, then added in rudimentary but adequate Spanish, “I didn't see you there.”

“
De nada,
senorita.” The workman doffed his cloth cap in greeting. By explanation, he gestured at a flat of plants he was setting in the ground.

“Good night, senor,” Dusty said, and guided Jessie toward their room. “You're quiet,” he remarked.

“I never thought of someone growing flowers in the dark before.”

He laughed softly and kissed her, then led her into the small, rather plain room. He took out his wallet and searched for a condom. Damn. He'd used up his supply the other night and hadn't replaced them. Not surprisingly, he'd fallen out of the habit of looking after this aspect of dating.

“Is something wrong?” asked Jessie.

“No condoms. And I doubt there's an all-night drugstore in this town.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “I've been on the Pill. And it's safe. I would never put you at risk, Dusty.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her again, his fingers finding the buttons down the back of her dress. He pulled back momentarily to point out an old-fashioned holy water font affixed to the wall.

“We're in a nun's room, aren't we?” she said.

“I think so.” He slipped the dress off her shoulders, down her arms.

“Then we're both going to need confession.”

“You never know.” He bent lower to skim his lips across the lacy edging of her bra. She swayed against him, and threaded
her fingers into his hair. Everything inside him seemed to rise up because of that simple, age-old caress, one he hadn't felt in far too long. He shucked his clothes fast, then sank down on the bed, bringing her with him. Leaning against the headboard, he pulled her against his chest and settled his mouth over hers.

Dusty had always liked sex. He liked the way a woman smelled and tasted. He liked the way her skin felt and her breathing sounded in his ear. None of that had died with Karen. But now his liking for sex was a consuming need because it wasn't some vague, generalized discontent that kept him awake, night after night, half inclined to call some of those numbers his mother was always leaving him. That restlessness was over now. After a long spell of indifference, his passion settled on Jessie, and Jessie alone. The notion brought a deep and calm satisfaction to his soul, and when he stopped kissing her, he was content, for the moment, to sit and hold her, savoring her warmth and her smell. A few times in his life, he had felt himself going in a direction that felt exactly right. He knew it in his gut—it was right.

“What?” she asked. “You're too quiet, all of a sudden.”

“I was remembering a landing emergency I was once forced to make.”

“You must find me very inspiring, then.” But there was a smile in her voice when she spoke.

“I was making a run over the Chitina in Alaska, and the valley was blocked with unforecast snow squalls. I was trying to get home before dark. At first, I had a tight little visibility circle, but then the visibility shrank to nothing. Cabin lights failed, too. It was me and the darkness. Visual flight rules were out the window. I was flying blind.”

She shivered against him and clung tighter. “So you managed to land.”

“Sometimes I don't think it was a hundred percent me. It was sort of eerie. I didn't have a choice. I had to find a way.”

“Trust the force, Luke,” she said, and her poor imitation made him smile.

“There were one million ways to fail and only one safe landing. I remember seeing the northern lights that night, the way the stars shone through the green and blue streaks. Somehow, I found that one safe place to land.” He put his hand on hers, curling his fingers. “That's you, Jessie.”

“Your landing strip? Sounds kinky.”

“Oh, it is.” He played with her lacy, sexy bra, edging it downward. “Ever been in love, Jess?”

“No.” Her answer was swift, certain. “I'm not hardwired for it.”

“Sure you are.” He grinned at her expression. “You've been waiting for me to come along.”

Then he reached up with one hand and clicked off the light. Pressing her down to the mattress, he stopped her soft sputter of protest with a long kiss. He liked this silence with her, liked the feel of her hands moving over his face, his neck his shoulders, liked the way they spoke without words. Touching her filled in the spaces where words were not enough; making love expressed things with hands and mouth that he knew she'd understand.

 

Jessie cherished the darkness. When Dusty made love to her, he opened her to a world of sensation and emotion that had been hidden to her in the bright light of day. There, in the black velvet night, she felt the moist curve of his lips, covering hers; the silky muscled shoulder beneath her sliding hand; the taste of him and the way he touched her so that magic happened. Hurts melted, worries subsided and even the persistent
pounding fear of the unknown softened to the rhythmic swish of her own heartbeat.

Deep in the shadows, sex took on new dimensions. Her senses heightened and sharpened until she was overwhelmed. She felt an ecstasy so piercing that it hurt, yet at the same time, his tenderness created in her a haven of hope. She fell into a new form of sensuality, maybe even a spirituality that had its own sort of beauty. In his arms, she found a night garden, a place blooming with a beauty that could not be seen, but must be discovered by deeper senses. Sight could add nothing to the moment.

This was it, she realized. Her heart was going to break. All her life, she'd worked so hard to keep it from happening. She'd pushed people away and fled from them, and all that time, she never knew she was running straight into the arms of this man.

The dawn flight home gave Jessie a dazzling glimpse of the lost maples of Eagle Lake through her narrowing field of vision. The plane swooped from the south to north over the lake, a blue mirror reflecting the cruciform shape of the wings and fuselage, racing over the landscape. The bigtooth maples had turned to russet and sunset, a fire of color amid the dust and sage of the surrounding countryside.

Will I remember this? she wondered, the palm of her hand pressed to the window. Terror and a floating sense of unreality held her silent, yet her thoughts raced. Will I keep this with me, somewhere inside? Or did images fade from the mind like old photographs unpreserved by chemical fixatives? She tried to stop thinking about the fact that this was all going away. After today, she promised herself, there would be plenty of time to wallow.

“You're quiet.” Dusty's comment vibrated with the cabin noise.

She took a second to compose her features, then shifted in her seat to face him. In the middle of everything that was
happening to her, he was a well of strength and sweetness and joy. Yet like the sweeping vistas of color below, he would soon cease to be real to her, except in some invisible place inside her. “After a date like that, there isn't much to say.”

With an endearing, cocky grin, he flipped some switches to prepare for landing. “It wasn't half bad, was it?”

Her whole body responded to him in a wave of craving for physical intimacy. She realized that Dusty was absolutely right about her—she could love him. Unlike her haphazard years with Simon and her flings in foreign lands, this love affair could be different, were the circumstances different. But he'd already loved and lost a wife. Even Jessie wasn't so selfish that she'd hand him the disaster her life was about to become. The only honorable thing to do was to end this before any real damage was done.

But it was too late. Crazy as it seemed, she already loved him.

Though he hadn't said anything specifically, she knew he believed they were going to be together, maybe for a very long time. Maybe forever. He wanted her to become Amber's mother and Jessie yearned to fling herself into their lives. But she resisted the urge.

Like so many other times in her life, she'd reached a crossroads. Like so many other times, she knew she had to go. The difference being, this time would break her heart because what she was leaving behind was all so precious to her—not only Dusty and Amber, but Lila and Luz and the boys. She was entering a world where Dusty didn't belong and would never want to. He had his own life to live, a daughter to raise. The last thing he needed was a blind woman to deal with.

After he drove her back to Broken Rock, she gathered her courage and said, “There's something I need to tell you.”

“What's that, gorgeous?”

She nearly choked, getting the words out. “I can't see you anymore.”

Standing at the door to her quarters, he hugged her. “Not funny,” he said.

“I'm not trying to make a joke.”

“Good. Because I'm not laughing.”

She wished he wasn't touching her. She wished he would never stop touching her. Extricating herself from his arms, she took a step back. “I never planned on— The fact is, I won't be staying around here much longer.”

“You're starting to piss me off, Jess.”

“I have that effect on people. Just ask my sister.” She felt strangely light-headed, as though she might float away any second. Every word she spoke felt torn from her heart. “Moving on is what I do,” she continued. “It's what I've always done.”

“What's out there, Jessie, that's got you so all-fired eager to leave?”

“My life.” She had hurt many people. Disappointed many people. But she'd always survived the guilt, knowing their hurt and disappointment would fade. She didn't feel that way with Dusty. They had already become part of each other. Leaving him now would scar them both. But staying around would destroy them. “I've got plans. I have to go.”

“You're making a mistake.”

“It's mine to make.”

He took both her hands. “I won't let you go.”

“You can't stop me.” She pulled away from him.

He was quiet for long moments. Uncannily she could feel the emotions emanating from him—confusion, tenderness, anger, disappointment.
Love.

Get out now, she silently urged him. Run for cover, before everything falls apart. “Look,” she said, struggling to see
him, “you need to get home and see that adorable daughter of yours.”

“Let's both go see her.”

She understood his meaning. He wanted her to cuddle up to Amber. He knew how easy it would be for Jessie to give her heart to the baby. “I can't,” she said in an aching whisper.

“You have to. Last night I told you the truth about myself, but I didn't tell you everything.”

“What else is there to tell?”

“When Amber was born, I thought I'd have this instant bond with her. But I had a secret.”

Fascinated, Jessie fluctuated between the need to know and the need to go.

“There was no instant bond. There was no instant love.”

“Are you kidding?” Jessie said, wishing she didn't understand him so well. “You worship that child, and vice versa.”

“I learned to do that, Jess, but the way I was loving her wasn't enough. I was…it's hard to describe. I felt so awkward with her, confused and scared, like I told you, and she knows. When things get tough for Amber—you haven't seen one of her epic tantrums yet—she turns to Arnufo, not me. Never me.”

He slid his arms around her. “The day I met you, I knew this was going to change. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I'm more easy around her. I want to relax and enjoy loving her, not just worry about her all the time. It's a subtle thing, Jess, but with you in my life, everything's different. Better.”

She stepped back, extricating herself from his embrace. “Good lord, don't put that on me. I'm not Mary Poppins.”

“True. She left, and you're staying.” He laughed at her expression, not knowing it was a mask for heartbreak. “I want you to know, I'm so ready to love you, Jess, and it's making me a better person—a better father.”

“Let me get this straight.” She honed a sharp edge on her voice. “You want me to stick around so you'll be nicer to your kid.”

“You know better than that, damn it.”

“You should head home to your daughter,” she reminded him.

Pulling her toward him, he kissed her hard, possessively, then walked back to his truck, boots crunching on the dry gravel of the driveway. “I'm not amused by this, Jess,” he said over his shoulder. “I'll be back tonight to discuss it.”

I won't, she thought, but didn't say so aloud. She stood listening to him go. She could only see him by turning her head and finding a clear field in the lower part of her right eye. As she had with the fiery maples, she tried to fix the image in her mind, as though he were an old photograph she knew she'd study again and again. She couldn't tell whether or not he was waving goodbye, so she lifted her hand, held it there for a moment, then touched her fingers to her lips and finally her heart. Then she went to her cabin to phone for a ride.

 

Luz's kitchen was the scene of cheerful confusion, the normal state of affairs each morning. As Jessie stepped inside, she was seized by both terror and urgency to leave soon. Moving through striations of light and darkness, detail and shadow, she found Luz at her command post—the butcher block kitchen island. The boys were eating cereal at the table, the younger ones listening, enraptured, as Wyatt read a Harry Potter adventure from the back of the Cheerios box.

“How are things at Mission Control?” Jessie asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Controlled chaos. My specialty.”

Jessie tried to gauge her sister's mood, but could only sense the harried energy of Luz in the morning, getting her family off for the day.

Trailing her hand along the counter, Jessie guided herself to the table. The aroma of coffee tantalized her, and she decided to help herself to a cup. Fourth cabinet over. She felt the shape of a thick china mug in her hand and carried it to the coffee pot on the counter. She hooked the tip of her finger over the rim of the mug and poured, but misjudged the flow from the carafe. Hot coffee spilled on her feet as one of the boys from the table said, “Look out, Aunt Jessie!”

She jumped back, stifling a forbidden curse. It was all she could do to conjure a self-deprecating laugh and grope for the roll of paper towels to the right of the sink. “I swear, I am such a klutz,” she declared, blotting randomly at the floor. When Luz hunkered down beside her to help out, Jessie felt, along with gratitude, a pinch of resentment. “There you go, wiping up after me again. I think I should be put in time-out.” She made her way over to the breakfast table and slid into a seat next to Scottie. “Is this seat taken?”

“Yup.”

She tousled his hair and grinned. “I bet you never spill anything.”

“Nope.”

“Yeah, right.” Wyatt helped himself to more Cheerios, then fixed a bowl for Jessie even though she hadn't requested it.

Luz set a fresh mug of coffee in front of her. “That must have been some date last night.”

“It definitely doesn't carry a G-rating,” Jessie said, with a meaningful inflection.

“Mom only lets us see G movies,” Owen said.

“You have a smart mom. G stands for Good,” Jessie explained, leaning over to kiss the top of her middle nephew's head.

Wyatt slurped his orange juice through a straw, making
such a loud noise that Luz took the glass away from him. “You're the big brother. You're supposed to set an example.”

“Want to hear me burp-sing the alphabet?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah!” Scottie jiggled in his seat and tapped the table with the back of his spoon.

Brown paper crackled as Luz put the finishing touches on the school lunches. “Why, will you look at the time? Two minutes until bus time.” Even the ever-patient Luz couldn't keep the relief from her voice.

The two older boys burst into motion, cramming back packs, tucking shirttails, shoving last-minute permission slips at their mother to sign. They tumbled toward the door, yelling goodbye to their dad, who was still upstairs. Luz stood at the door, waiting to pitch the lunches like airdropped food-aid packets into their backpacks as they passed. She also managed to squeeze in a couple of quick kisses, and then they were gone.

Finally she sank down across the table from Jessie and heaved a happy sigh. “Life among the savages,” she said.

“Am I a savage?” Scottie asked.

“Not until you learn to burp-sing the alphabet,” Jessie said.

“Thanks a lot,” said Luz. “Now he'll be practicing all day.”

Catching her sister's flicker of annoyance, Jessie held her breath, waiting for Part Two of the Great Tattoo Debate, but Luz seemed distracted this morning. This was the way they had always fought, ever since they were small—by avoiding the issue and letting it simmer beneath the surface. The method never resolved anything, but at least it kept the peace.

Luz chucked Scottie under the chin and said, “Go finish getting ready, sport. Arnufo is going to look after you today.”

“Yippee!” He fetched his sneakers from a tray by the door. Spying his sister coming downstairs, he ran right to her and
plunked himself on the floor. “I need you to tie my shoes, Lila,” he said, sticking out one foot.

With an exaggerated sigh, she set aside her backpack. “Whatever.” Then she bent down to tie his little G.I. Joe sneakers for him. Jessie observed that, even when Lila was in the foulest of moods, Scottie could make her smile, could remind her that she was not the only person on the planet. She narrated the ritual of shoe-tying, making the bunny rabbit ears and knotting them together. She ended with a quick tickle that escalated into a shriekfest.

As Lila and Scottie played together, Luz leaned forward across the table. “So last night. Tell me.”

“He took me out for Mexican food.”

“I know that.”

“In Mexico.”

Luz clutched at her chest and pretended to faint dead away on the table. “That is hideously, unforgivably romantic.”

“Isn't it, though?” A bittersweet air of wistfulness possessed Jessie. “It was an hour and a half away, in the cutest little town called Candela. We had dinner, and stayed at a colonial inn. Our room was…I barely remember it. There was a holy water font.” She thought about all she'd felt last night. The new world of emotion had been a foreign country to her. The sensation of loving a man this way—in every way—overwhelmed her. “He's amazing.”

“He's crazy about you, too.” Luz knew something was up. Jessie could feel the waves of suspicion, as subtle as fine perfume. “So what about today?” Luz asked. “Maybe he'll take you on a little jaunt to New Orleans.”

Lila helped herself to a glass of orange juice and drank it standing up, leaning against the counter. “Dusty Matlock?”

“She said she liked Mexican food, so he took her to Mexico last night,” Luz explained.

“Awesome.”

While Lila fixed herself a Pop-Tart, Luz bustled around, getting Scottie ready. Under her pajama top, she wore panty hose and a good gabardine skirt. Her feet were stuffed into fuzzy slippers.

“You're only half-dressed, Mom,” Lila observed.

“I'll get to the other half after breakfast. Anyway, I'll be up at your school later, doing more pictures for Nell's article.” She hesitated. “This is really important to me, Lila.”

Lila tossed the hot pastry from hand to hand. “It's cool with me, I guess.”

“Way cool,” echoed Scottie.

Maybe that was it, Jessie thought with a wave of relief. Maybe Luz seemed happy today because of the photography work. Yet Jessie could feel the tension emanating from her sister.