Love's Miracles (34 page)

“This
isn’t going to be easy, is it?” she said.

“Loving
you would be very easy.” He traced his finger along her jaw. “Keeping this distance
is what is hard.”

“And
the fact that you’re trying makes me realize how much you care.”

“Don’t
ever doubt that, Margo Devaull. I care a lot. Too much, in fact.”

“Never
too much.” She reached for his hand. “Caring is something the world needs more
of.”

“You’re
right.” He fell in step beside her as they continued along the beach. “Why does
it sound so simple, yet turn out to be so hard to carry out?”

“People
seem to enjoy making life more difficult for themselves, I guess.”

He
laughed. “I hope you remember that statement next time you try to talk me into
leaving my peaceful retreat to go back to the city.”

Margo
grew serious. “There’s a difference between simplifying your life and hiding
from it.”

“You
don’t mince words, do you?”

The
conversation threatened to become clinical and Margo had promised she’d not do
that with Zane. He had a therapist in Eureka; what he needed now was a friend.

“What’s
going on up ahead?” She pointed to a group of around twenty people, glad for
the distraction. A fire was burning and several of the people milled around it.
Others were sitting on the sand, apparently engrossed in some sort of a
project.

Margo
had no idea how Zane was reacting to her change of subject, but he didn’t
object when she moved toward the activity.

When
they reached the edge of the group, one of the members greeted them; that was
all the invitation Margo needed.

“You
look busy,” she commented. “What’re you making?”

The
woman helped her teenage son dig a hole in the ground. They lined it with
pieces of driftwood and shells.

“Sand
candles,” she explained. “Sonoma State University offers a weekend beach arts
class. You wouldn’t believe the ideas this instructor comes up with.”

“Mind
if we watch?” Zane asked.

The
woman invited them to help and showed them how to shape the hole in the wet
sand. “You end up with whatever you make, so you have to mold it the way you
want it to look. Be sure and make a flat bottom or the candle will teeter when
it’s set.”

While
Zane started on their mold, Margo watched the woman’s son go to the fire and
bring back a charred coffee can that had been bent so it had a spout. Carefully
he poured the melted wax into the hole his mother had formed.

“How’s
yours coming along?” the woman asked Zane. “There’s enough wax in the can for
another small one.”

“We
don’t want to cut into your supply.” Zane smiled and the woman smiled back,
making Margo aware that she wasn’t the only one who thought Zane was a
fine-looking man.

“Me
and Travis here have been saving candle ends for months. Just for this project.
Don’t worry about the wax.”

Travis
helped Zane secure a wick at the base and then they poured the hot wax.

“You
have to be careful with this stuff around the fire. You don’t want it to get
too hot or it’ll explode.”

Margo
eyed the ten or so cans lining the fire and hoped they were all being watched.
When Zane’s candle had been poured, Travis showed them a couple they’d made
earlier that were already hard.

“When
the wax sets, you lift the candle right out of the sand.”

The
sand adhered to the wax as well as the shells and driftwood, making a unique
candle. The second one had what appeared to be shiny stones. When Margo asked
about them, Travis explained.

“They
come from glass beach. It used to be the city dump. All the bottles and
porcelain never deteriorated but broke into bits. The surf acted like a giant
rock polisher and rounded all the pieces.”

“These
are glass then?” Zane fingered the smooth objects in the basket Travis pointed
to.

“Yeah.
Glass beach is covered with this.”

“I
bet they look like jewels when wet,” Margo commented.

Zane
asked directions to the beach and Margo figured he’d no doubt go there. He’d
probably come up with all sorts of ideas for the glass.

Travis
explained some of the other projects the instructor had planned, and Zane and
Margo listened with interest, enjoying the youth’s enthusiasm.

“Tomorrow
we’re making giant sculptures on the beach using driftwood and whatever else we
find.”

Margo
knew about that art form. There were several locations in the Bay Area where
industrious artists had created giant objects on the beach. Maybe tomorrow she
and Zane would observe the project while it was in progress.

“Later
today we’re making wall plaques from driftwood boards,” Travis continued
explaining while he molded another hole. “We’ll also make plaster castings in
the sand.”

Margo
and Zane visited with the two until their candle was set enough to take it out
of the sand. Thankfully they’d made a small candle that didn’t take long to
harden. Although Margo was enjoying the friendliness of the group, she really
wanted to be alone with Zane.

Because
the candle was somewhat fragile, they decided to head back to their picnic spot
and put it aside. On the way Zane collected pieces of driftwood, and Margo
chuckled. She could see his mind was busy planning the use he’d put the
collection to.

She
couldn’t talk, though, because she spotted some treasures of her own: a sand
dollar, shells, and a starfish that Zane assured her would stink unbearably if
she decided to take it home.

When
they reached the blanket, Zane decided he was hungry. The walk had whetted
Margo’s appetite, so she pitched right in setting out the food while Zane lit
the disposable barbecue.

It
was a good thing she was hungry because she had to shake her head at Zane’s collection
of food. “Don’t you know chips are loaded with cholesterol?” she scolded as she
opened the bag.

Zane
grabbed them from her and took out a chip, stuffing one in his mouth, then one
in hers. She wasn’t crazy about them, but who could resist the look in his eye?

“Don’t
bug me about my diet.” He gave her a mock stern look. “We’re talking
beach-party picnic here. American tradition. Hot dogs, chips, pickles, and
peanuts.”

“At
least there’s fruit.” She treated the peaches with care.

They
nibbled on the chips and peanuts until the coals were ready. Zane found a
couple of sticks and insisted they roast the hot dogs on them rather than use
the grate that came with the aluminum grill.

“We’ll
pretend we have a real fire going here.”

“If
you want a real fire, why don’t you make one?” Margo gestured to the driftwood
covering the beach.

“The
rangers prefer we don’t build fires,” he explained.

“The
art class had one.”

“They
probably had a special permit. Too many people build fires, then cover them
with sand thinking they’re putting them out.”

“Sounds
like a smart idea to me.”

“It
would be if they buried them deep, but children come along barefoot, step on
them, and burn their feet.”

“I
see what you mean.” Margo tucked her feet under her and sat cross-legged.

In
spite of teasing Zane about his choice of food, she had to admit the meal was
delicious. They sat on the blanket with their backs against the log and ate
their food. In front of them, they had a panoramic view of the beach and the
ocean beyond.

The
surf pounded and sea gulls flew overhead in the deep blue sky. She could even
see a couple of brown heads as the sea lions bobbed in and out of the waves.
Margo glanced at Zane and knew this was going to be a special day to remember.

“Want
another hot dog?” Zane offered.

“I’m
stuffed.” She patted her stomach and stretched her legs out in front of her.

It
was cozy sitting next to the log, out of the wind with the sunshine warming
their bodies. Margo pulled her pants up to her knees, hoping to tan while she
watched Zane cook another hot dog.

It
amazed her how much pleasure she got from doing just that. Most of her outings
with men involved elaborate entertainment, restaurants, and dressing up –
nothing simple. Usually there was so much activity that there weren’t even
moments to sit and talk.

Could
this be what she’d been missing from her life? The longings she felt in the
night, the restless yearnings? Were they for this peace and warm companionship
that resulted from the pleasure of simply being in a special someone’s company?

Zane
finished his hot dog and smiled at her. “Ready for dessert? The peaches are
from the fruit stand on the edge of town.”

“They
do look beautiful.” She handed one to Zane and got napkins for each of them.

True
to his word, the peaches were delicious. Juice dripped down Margo’s chin and
onto her fingers as she ate the ripe fruit.

When
she finished, she saw the hungry longing in Zane’s eyes and knew what he was
feeling. It claimed her as well.

“Kiss
me, Zane.” She brushed her lips across his.

He
captured her mouth and worked his magic. Margo sighed with pleasure as her
breath mingled with his. This was what she wanted – needed – but kissing Zane
made her want more.

Zane
pulled back even though he was reluctant to do so. This was a mistake. It had
been torture not to see Margo, but being here with her like this and having to
keep distant was too hard. He wanted her so badly that his body ached all over.

She
didn’t look in much better shape. Her lids were half-closed, heavy with desire.
Her face was flushed and her breathing irregular. He couldn’t take his eyes off
her mouth. Her lips were moist from his kiss.

For
a brief moment he toyed with the idea of breaking down and taking what he
wanted. He didn’t doubt for a minute that he could. She was ready for him; her
hunger matched his. But after they’d satisfied physical need, what would come
next?

Zane
straightened and leaned against the log. It wouldn’t be fair to involve her in
his life any more than he already had. He didn’t want to offer love. Love was
something he’d discovered brought too much pain. It was easier to be completely
independent.

“Take
the days as they come” were his therapist Ray Smith’s famous last words. He
should enjoy this time with Margo and hope he’d have others. If he really
wanted them, he’d have to play it straight.

“The
sun is getting warm.” He was glad his voice sounded steady. “If we stay here on
this blanket I’m going to fall asleep.”

He
could feel her stare, but he didn’t dare look at her. Then her laughter rang
out, giving him pleasure he’d long forgotten.

“I
guess that’s one thing that could happen. But your kisses are more dangerous.”

His
glance met hers. Merriment danced in her eyes and lightened his mood. She was
here with him, and for today that was enough. He stood and held out his hand to
pull her up beside him.

“Let’s
walk the other direction and see what we can find.”

“Sounds
good to me.”

For
another hour they strolled along the beach. Margo found more shells. He was
only interested in looking at her. Finally she stopped and pointed to a log.

“Let’s
go sit down and rest. Remember, I’m a city girl. I’m not used to all this
exercise.”

He
helped her settle against the log and sat down beside her. “You should get out
more. Even after one day you look relaxed.”

“You’re
right. I know that. It’s so easy to get caught up in the rat race when you’re
in the city. Rush and do this. Hurry and do that.”

“When
you get out to the country it takes awhile to adjust.” He remembered those
first days of his vacation. “You look around wondering what you should do and
then you feel guilty when you don’t do much of anything.”

He
could feel her gaze as she studied his features. “Do you still feel guilty?”

He
chuckled. “No. It doesn’t take long to realize that hustle and bustle is ninety
percent unnecessary.”

“Are
you serious? You must’ve had plenty to do with a business the size of Zanelli,
Inc.”

“Sure.
Tons of red tape. Bureaucratic procedures. But what is it all for?”

“To
keep the business going, I would imagine.”

He
dug his heels into the sand, wondering if he could make her understand. “What
is important about the business? Sure, it keeps an industry afloat, provides
jobs, makes big bucks. But it was my father’s dream. Not mine. I’m discovering
those things don’t have any meaning for me. I don’t need a life full of high
stress, long hours, and back-breaking work.”

She
positioned herself across from him and sat with her legs crossed. “You wouldn’t
mind if it was work you enjoyed?”