Honeysuckle Summer (21 page)

Raylene went into her room, changed into her nightgown and slid between the sheets. When the phone rang, she almost left it for Walter, but decided at the last second to grab it. Her nerves tensed in that first instant after she’d said hello, as she waited for nothing more than silence in response.

Instead, Carter asked, “You all tucked in?”

“Carter Rollins, are you sitting out there in the dark spying on me?” she teased.

“Thinking about you in there stripping off your clothes helps to keep me awake,” he told her. “Are you
naked? Please tell me you’re naked. That ought to be good for a couple of hours of sleeplessness, at least.”

She laughed and snuggled down under the covers. “Stark naked,” she fibbed. Anything for the cause, she thought, allowing herself a delicious shiver at his sharply indrawn breath.

“Ah, there it is,” he said softly. “The image that’s going to get me through the night.”

“Has it been quiet out there?”

“Too quiet,” he said. “It’s a little spooky. If it weren’t so dangerous, I’d try to convince you to come out here and protect me from the goblins of the night.”

“Under the circumstances, that might be counterproductive.”

“Yeah, I know. One of these days, though, this is going to be behind us, Carrie’s going to be better, and you and I are going to have our chance. I believe that with all my heart, Raylene. I’m going to fight to make sure it happens.”

“Our chance to do what?” she pressed, needing to hear the sweet promise of his words.

“Be together in that very bed where you are right now. We’ll be all tangled together after a night of making love, and we’ll talk about our hopes and dreams, and then we’ll make them come true. Every one of them, Raylene.”

She sighed at the lovely thought. “I wish—” she began.

“We’ll have that,” he said firmly, interrupting her. “Believe it. Now, get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Carter.”

“Night, Raylene.”

She disconnected the call and put the phone back on the nightstand, then curled up with her pillow. It was a very poor substitute for the man outside, but it would have to do for now.

The pattern established the first night after Paul’s release went on for more than a week, with only the personnel changing. Walter, Rory Sue and Carter were the only constants. Raylene was increasingly dismayed by the lack of a resolution.

As for Carter, how much longer could he go on getting little to no sleep beyond the occasional nap in the afternoons between his shift at the sheriff’s department and his arrival at her house for the night? She was worried by the lines of tension on his face, the exhaustion in his eyes, to say nothing of the fact that he seemed to be neglecting Carrie and Mandy. He flatly refused, though, to turn the night watch over to anyone else. Finally Raylene reached her limit. She started making phone calls.

Her first one to Ronnie got a promise that he’d take over surveillance outside the house that night. Her next four, to friends of Paul’s, were designed to try to rattle his cage and provoke him into taking action, if that was what he had in mind.

When Carter showed up that night and found Ronnie parked in his truck right in front of the house, he stormed inside.

“Ronnie says you called him and asked him to take over,” he said, pacing up and down the living room as he dragged his hand through his already mussed hair. “Why would you do that? Don’t you trust me to do the job?”

“You know it’s not that,” she said patiently. “Your sisters need some attention. Plus, you’re wiped out. You need a decent night’s sleep.”

“Well, I certainly won’t get it at home worrying myself sick about you and what’s happening over here.”

She’d anticipated that response. “Which is why you’re staying here tonight. I’ve arranged for Carrie and Mandy to stay with friends from school for a couple of days so you won’t have to worry about them.” Before he could argue, she added, “I’ve spoken to the parents who’ll be looking out for Carrie. They understand the situation. They’ll make sure she eats and will report back if there’s a problem.”

“Well, you’ve just thought of every damn thing, haven’t you?”

With the words ground out like that, it didn’t sound like a compliment, but she forced a smile, anyway. “I certainly tried to. I knew it was the only way you’d agree to stay here.”

He stopped pacing to stare at her as if the significance of that part had previously escaped him. “Here?”

“In my bed, in fact.”

His eyes lit up, but she held up her hand. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“Like hell you will. You’ll be right in Paul’s path if he breaks in.”

“I thought the idea of having Ronnie outside was to keep Paul from getting inside.”

“It is, but you never know what could happen to change the best theory. I won’t have you right smack inside the front door. If this is going to work, you’ll have to sleep with me.”

Raylene finally grasped the flaw in her plan. She
should have foreseen it. “That’s not going to work for me, Carter. You know that.” Even to her ears, her tone sounded wistful.

“It’ll work,” he said grimly. “Even if we have to put pillows down the middle of the bed or hang a blanket between the two sides. I want you where I can reach out and touch you.”

An image from an old movie came to her. “You’d do that?”

“If that’s what it takes. Though I have to admit, I’d sleep a whole lot better if we could at least snuggle.”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, as drawn by the idea as he was.

“We could try it and see how it goes,” he suggested, longing in his eyes.

That’s what did it, finally. If he’d been pushing for more, she might have been able to deny him, but to see the yearning just to be close, how could she turn her back on that? A very big part of her had been longing for the same thing, but not daring to believe it was possible.

“We’ll give it a try,” she said, making up her mind.

His gaze met hers then, and held. Then, a faint smile on his lips, he nodded.

Raylene felt as if she’d granted him a birthday wish and a miracle all rolled into one. Now she could only pray she wouldn’t let him down.

Raylene owned one pair of flannel pajamas for the rare winter nights when she couldn’t seem to get warm. She found them in her dresser drawer, put them on, then took a deep breath and emerged in her bedroom.

Carter was lying on top of the covers, still wearing
his jeans and a formfitting white T-shirt but no shoes or socks.

“Are you planning to sleep like that?” she asked just as his lips curved into a smile as he surveyed the loose-fitting flannel pj’s.

“I should ask you the same thing,” he commented. “I hate to tell you, sweet pea, but those are more provocative than any nightie I’ve ever seen.”

She frowned as she looked down. “These? Why? I’m practically covered from neck to toe.”

“I know. It sparks my imagination.” He grinned wickedly. “I have a very vivid imagination. Come on over here and climb into bed.”

She regarded him warily, but she did cross the room and sit gingerly on her side of the bed.

“You won’t get much sleep sitting up,” he murmured, amusement threading through his voice. “Settle down here next to me. I promise I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

She hesitated. Her gaze sought his. “I might want you to,” she admitted. “But it might not go very well.”

“Only one way to find out,” he said. “The first second I do something that scares you, all you have to do is push me away or say no. I promise, you’re in charge here.”

Reassured, she stretched out next to him, keeping several inches between them. Even so, she could feel his heat radiating toward her. All that solid strength beckoned to her. She rolled onto her side and dared to rest her hand on his rock-solid abs. She could feel them tighten under her touch.

“What kind of workouts do you do?” she asked, a little awed and a lot intrigued.

“Weights, resistance machines, that kind of thing,” he said, sounding slightly breathless.

She hesitated, then asked, “Would you mind taking off your shirt?”

He grinned at the request. “My pleasure. You want to do it for me?”

Raylene gave it a moment’s thought, then reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. She knew what he’d done. He’d left the act to her so she had total control over whether that shirt stayed or went. Even as her knuckles skimmed over bare flesh, she felt the kind of yearning she hadn’t felt in years. She could feel her body coming alive, tightening and moistening in all the right places.

“What would you think about taking off your top?” Carter asked solemnly. “Seems to me you shouldn’t be the only one with a view.”

She froze, then reminded herself this was Carter, not Paul. There would be no cruel comments about the inadequacy of her chest, no rough handling that caused more pain than pleasure. She told herself she could do this.

Slowly she reached for the buttons. Once she’d undone the first one, she hurried with fumbling fingers to finish the rest. Carter’s avid gaze never left her.

“May I?” he whispered, gently pushing the flannel top aside to reveal her breasts.

To her amazement, he didn’t grab as if there was some race to be won. He just looked, his eyes filled with wonder.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, a hitch in his voice. He stroked a finger down one breast, then gently rubbed the nipple.

Raylene almost cried as desire shot straight through her. It had been so long since she’d felt that kind of tenderness, so long since she’d allowed herself to want a man’s touch. Yet Carter’s caresses felt right.

She’d never known a man to take such care, to risk a touch, then wait to assure that it was wanted before risking more. She felt her skin heat, felt the return of moistness between her legs, the stirring of her blood. It was such sweet wonder to experience it all again without fear.

Carter met her gaze. “Do you want to stop now?” he asked.

She looked at him as if he was crazy. “Now?” she asked incredulously.

A smile played over his lips. “Just checking.”

“No, I want more, Carter. I want it all.”

Because for the first time in years, she needed to know what it was truly like to make love. Maybe if she experienced that at long last, it would finally push the bad memories from her head once and for all, replacing them with memories she could cherish.

C
arter woke and rolled over in bed to discover he was alone. He wondered if he’d dreamed that he and Raylene had made love the night before. If so, it had been one helluva dream. She’d surprised him with passion and fire, then fallen asleep in his arms as if she’d finally found shelter from a storm. He knew what an amazing gift she’d given him by placing her trust in him.

Discovering that she’d abandoned him, though, made him wonder if she’d awakened with second thoughts. He knew she still worried that she was too much trouble, especially when he had a kid sister with an eating disorder. He had no idea how to make her see that it was easier for him to face that with her at his side. Words weren’t going to be enough. Neither, he knew down deep, was sex.

Feeling refreshed for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he showered, pulled on the clothes he’d worn over here the night before and went in search of Raylene.

He found her in the kitchen humming to herself and cooking enough food to feed an army.

He glanced at the mound of bacon, the pile of toast and the pan of scrambled eggs she was stirring. There was a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice already on the table, along with pots of jam that looked homemade. The table had been set for five.

“Expecting company?” he inquired, stealing a piece of crisp bacon before stealing a kiss. Much as he loved bacon, the kiss—brief though it was—was better.

“Walter and Rory Sue should be in here any minute now, and I called Ronnie on his cell and told him to come in.”

Carter stiffened. He opened his mouth to protest, but she waved him off.

“Oh, don’t look like that,” she scolded. “Erik’s taking his place until all those workmen who are filling potholes and checking the power lines show up.” She gave him a pointed look. “Who knew this street was in such a sad state of disrepair?”

“Tom’s idea,” he said succinctly. “The sheriff doesn’t have the extra manpower to put surveillance on your place 24–7. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

“I’m neither blind nor stupid,” she told him, then touched his cheek in a gesture apparently meant to take the sting out of her words. “Thank you. Tom may have come up with the idea, but I know you’re the one who insisted there had to be a plan.”

Carter studied her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “Not to change the subject, but about last night,” he began.

She cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about last night, Carter. It was wonderful.” She blushed as she met his gaze. “Amazing, in fact. Let’s not spoil what happened by trying to analyze it.”

He regarded her incredulously. “Since when does a woman not want to talk about intimacy?”

“Just consider me a rare breed of female. I’d like to let the experience speak for itself.”

He didn’t buy it for a second. “Is it that, or are you hoping to pretend it didn’t happen, or maybe that it didn’t mean anything?”

“There you go, discussing,” she said with exasperation. “Leave it alone, Carter. I mean it.”

He sighed and dropped the subject…for now. He knew, though, that they couldn’t avoid it forever. It was too important. And he could see by the fear in her eyes that she understood that, too.

Though little about Raylene’s life these days felt even remotely normal, Dr. McDaniels had insisted that they not put their sessions on hold.

“Not after that breakthrough we had about your mother possibly being agoraphobic, too,” she told Raylene when she called to say that she’d be over at the regular time. “We have some momentum going here. I don’t want to lose it.”

When she arrived promptly at one o’clock, she stood on the stoop for a minute looking up and down the block. “Busy street,” she noted.

“My unofficial watchdogs,” Raylene told her, and explained about Tom’s plan to be sure Paul didn’t slip into the neighborhood.

As they went inside, the psychologist studied her. “How are you feeling about his release?”

“Scared, angry,” Raylene said at once, then sighed. “Mostly scared.”

“That’s perfectly natural.”

Deciding she needed to make a preemptive strike, Raylene looked the doctor directly in the eye. “I don’t think it’s a good time for me to be trying to go outside. If I was terrified before, just imagine how I’ll react now that my fear is actually justified.”

Dr. McDaniels shook her head. “Actually, I think it’s exactly the right time. If you can face your fear and conquer it under these circumstances, think about how empowering that will feel.” She touched Raylene’s hand. “You don’t have to decide right this second. First, I have some news.”

There was an edge in her voice that told Raylene she might be better off not knowing what it was. Unfortunately, she also knew that wasn’t an option.

“What news?”

“I spoke to your mother at some length the other day. I finally caught her at home. She hadn’t been returning any of the messages I left for her.”

“She’s not coming,” Raylene guessed. She hadn’t really expected it, hadn’t even been sure she wanted her mother’s help, but she had to admit to feeling deflated now.

“No, I’m sorry,” Dr. McDaniels said sympathetically. “She says it would be too painful to come to Serenity, that living here was the most miserable time of her life.”

“She can’t even put that aside to help her daughter,” Raylene concluded, her tone flat. “Why am I not surprised? She’s probably still furious with me for creating the scandal that sent Paul to prison.”

“Actually, she didn’t even mention that,” Dr. McDaniels said.

“Did she know about his release?”

“She never mentioned Paul at all, and avoided talking about him when I brought him up. What she did say was that coming back here would stir up memories she’d worked too hard to put to rest. I tried to probe a little about those memories, but she refused to go there.”

“What about the agoraphobia? Did she admit to that?” Raylene asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes. She wouldn’t put a name to it, but she said she’d spent years locked away in the house because she hated being in Serenity. She said she’d had no desire to see anyone or to go anywhere.”

“Was it her interpretation that it was fear that kept her inside, or was she punishing my father?”

“She wouldn’t say anything more about that, either, but it almost doesn’t matter. The point is that she set an example that you’ve been unconsciously following.”

Raylene waited for some sense of relief or maybe even vindication, but all she felt was sorrow. “What a waste,” she murmured.

The psychologist’s gaze was penetrating. “Are you talking about your mother’s life now, or your own?”

Raylene thought about it. “Maybe both,” she admitted. “At least she got her life back. I wonder if she’s even thought for a second about the fact that she got it because of me and my decision to marry Paul. You could almost say she owes me.” She shrugged off the analysis. “Bottom line, she is the way she is. I can’t change that.”

“Here’s something I think you need to recognize,” Dr. McDaniels said. “It seems to me that even shut away in this house the way you have been, you’ve led a fuller, richer life than she had. You have the support of countless friends. You have a man who clearly adores you.”

At the mention of Carter, Raylene hesitated, then blurted, “I slept with Carter night before last.”

The psychologist didn’t even try to hide her surprise, or her pleasure. “Good for you. The breakthroughs seem to be coming fast and furious these days.”

“You think so?” Raylene asked skeptically. Of course, sleeping with Carter had been huge, but it seemed to her that nothing else had changed. She couldn’t see how knowing her mom had been agoraphobic had really changed anything, either.

“It certainly seems that way to me. A few short weeks ago, you couldn’t even bear for Carter to put his arm around you. I certainly consider making love an important breakthrough.”

Raylene acknowledged that initial skittish reaction months ago was a far cry from what she’d felt the other night. She’d felt safe, at least when she’d allowed herself to believe that what they had could last. She’d had a delicious taste of normalcy, and it had made her want more.

Suddenly more determined than ever not to let Paul ruin her progress, she met Dr. McDaniels’s gaze. “Let’s go outside. I’ve missed being on the patio the past few days.”

“Good for you.”

A few minutes later, taking a seat under an umbrella that shaded them from the sun, she sighed. “It doesn’t seem like much.”

“Think about where you were when we first started these sessions.”

“But I want to be able to do things other women do. I don’t want to be half a person. That’s not fair to Carter.”

“Has Carter complained about your limitations?”

She shook her head. “But, come on, his patience can’t last forever.”

“Maybe it can,” the psychologist said. “Who are you to decide what he can handle?”

“Okay, then maybe I’m the one who can’t handle it,” Raylene retorted. “If I’m going to have a real relationship, a meaningful one, then I want to bring all of me to it. Right now I’m just a bundle of fears and insecurities.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“It’s how I feel.”

“Okay, let’s talk about that,” the doctor said, her tone annoyingly reasonable. “What’s out there in the world that you want and can’t have?”

“A normal life.”

“Be more specific.”

“I’d like to have a job,” she said, thinking of old dreams when she’d wanted something more than to be Paul’s wife and lead a life of leisure. Ironically, she’d learned to hate that role during her marriage. It was even worse now that it had been forced on her by her fears.

“And if Carter and I were to have kids, I’d want to be able to walk with them on their first day of school, see their plays and holiday programs, go to their ball games,” she continued. “I want to go to the movies with my husband, walk into town for ice cream, take part in all of the town’s holiday festivals.”

“How badly do you want all that?”

“More than I’d ever realized,” she said wistfully.

“Good,” Dr. McDaniels said. “Then let’s try to make sure you get it.” She stood up and beckoned to Raylene. “Let’s go.”

Raylene froze. “Now?”

“No time like the present,” the doctor confirmed. “The patio has started to feel safe. Let’s see if we can’t make the rest of the world feel that way, too.”

Raylene stood, but her knees nearly buckled. “What exactly do you want to do?”

“I thought we’d go for a little walk. Just out to the mailbox, maybe even a few feet down the street.”

Raylene thought about how close that was, just a few hundred feet or so. It might as well have been across town. She had to fight panic even before they rounded the side of the house.

“You can do this,” Dr. McDaniels assured her. “I’m going to be right beside you, just the way I was when we went outside to meet Carter that day. This will be only a little farther. You’re going to be perfectly safe. You already know that there are people out there to protect you. There’s no risk of Paul getting to you.”

It all sounded perfectly rational and sane, but that was the problem. Nothing about her responses were sane or rational. Eventually, though, she nodded. If she truly wanted that normal life she’d described, she had to do this. And if she could do it now, when her fears were nearly overwhelming, it would be a huge triumph, proof that she would conquer the agoraphobia.

As they reached the front yard, the psychologist paused. “You don’t have to rush,” she told her. “Take your time. One step, then another, at your own pace. You know the drill.”

On an intellectual level, it seemed crazy to Raylene that she had to be coached in order to walk down a sidewalk to the mailbox at the curb, but emotionally the
distance seemed like miles, miles that were fraught with more unseen obstacles than she could count.

She stepped onto the sidewalk with a small measure of confidence, then waited for the sweaty palms and shortness of breath to kick in. To her surprise, that didn’t happen this time. Maybe because the weeks of small victories in the garden had given her confidence, perhaps because the medicine was finally doing its job, she had no idea which. She was simply grateful for the respite from panic.

She took one more step, then another. When the mailman turned the corner, then paused to put the mail into the box, she even managed a jaunty, casual wave.

But the second he’d walked on and she’d retrieved the mail, the sense of triumph she’d experienced faded and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She stopped where she was, her throat closing up. She regarded Dr. McDaniels with dismay, unable to squeeze out a single word.

“It’s okay,” the doctor soothed. “You’re fine. You’re in a safe place, and I’m with you. Just stand here and take a deep breath and try to relax.”

Raylene clutched at her throat. All of the old, terrifying sensations washed over her.

“Can’t breathe,” she choked out.

“Yes, you can,” Dr. McDaniels insisted. She put a comforting hand on Raylene’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Give it a minute. In and out, just like we practiced. Not too fast, or you’ll hyperventilate.”

Closing her eyes, Raylene concentrated on taking measured breaths until they started to come naturally. In what was probably less than a minute, though it felt like much longer, she felt calmer. She was able to move forward, back to the house, back to safety.

As shaken as she’d been, she allowed herself a small moment of triumph. She’d been to the mailbox and back! It was such a short distance, but the victory seemed huge.

But even that walk, as amazing as it had been, had left her miles and miles away from the freedom of having her life back.

Sarah burst through the front door at midafternoon, scaring Raylene half to death.

“What on earth?” she murmured, when her friend embraced her and danced her around.

“Lynn called me at the station,” Sarah said gleefully. “She said she saw you at the mailbox!”

“It wasn’t worthy of an announcement on the midday news,” Raylene said, then grinned. “But it was pretty cool. I only panicked once. Then I did the breathing exercises, and it got better just the way Dr. McDaniels had said it would. I just have to consciously take control of my breathing. I can almost imagine doing it on my own.” She sighed. “But that seems like it could take forever.”