MM01 - Valley of Fire (18 page)

“What in the world?” She put a bookmark on page sixty-five, closed the book, and walked toward her front door. She had left the wooden door open so she could catch the late afternoon breeze through the screen. What she saw through the screen made her laugh until her sides hurt.

Rick McGill was on her front porch dressed in fringed leather britches, beaded moccasins, and a huge feathered headdress. He held a boom box in one hand and a very large, very full mesh bag in the other. On the radio the Andrew Sisters were singing “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” two decibels too loud, and Rick was doing a combination Texas two-step and Indian rain dance.

When he saw her, he grinned.

“What are you doing?” She had to yell to make herself heard over all the racket.

“It's a little Indian love dance.” He executed a few steps. He did a few more. “Do you like it?”

Her laughter turned into a smile. Only Rick McGill would dance so badly and then expect her to like it.

“It's wonderful. Where did you learn it?”

“I made it up all by myself.” He stomped clumsily around the porch again, whistling and humming and sometimes grinning.

“Don't you think the music is wrong for that kind of dance?”

“No. Forties music always suits the occasion. I think we should play it at our wedding.”

He was absolutely incorrigible. She went through the screen door and stood in front of him, arms akimbo. “I guess you're going to keep up this racket until I invite you in.”

“That's right.”

“And all my neighbors will hate me.”

“They might even circulate petitions to get you to move in with me.”

“In that case...” She held the screen door wide. “Do come in.”

He turned the music down to a soft croon and went into her front room. The big sack in his hand bumped against the door frame.

Martha Ann moved her book out of the way and sat back down in her comfortable chair. “What's in the bag?”

“A love potion.”

“You're kidding.”

“I made it myself too.” He set the boom box on the kitchen counter and held up the huge bag. “If that little thing Clyde made could do what it did, just think what this sucker can do.”

“It boggles the mind.” She was enchanted. That's all there was to it, she thought. Such considerations as reliability and stability and trustworthiness flew right out the door in the face of this crazy, wonderful man with his love potion.

“Of course, in order to work, this potion has to be put in exactly the right place.”

“Naturally.”

“You do have a bed, don't you?”

Her pulse began to race. Without a word, she got up and locked her front door. She leaned against the doorjamb for support. “Do you think it will fit?”

His eyes went dark. “I'm certain it will fit.”

She blushed, and he noticed. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face.

“Why don't we give it a try?” He held out his left hand, and she took it.

Together they went into her bedroom. It was small and cozy, decorated with lots of wicker and brass and handmade pillows and art nouveau prints. The room was like her, he thought. Both old-fashioned and sweet, and wildly modern and bold.

She stood in the middle of the room and folded her hands neatly across her breasts. “This morning you told me to take my time.”

“This morning was a million years ago.” He put the bag on the floor and went to her. Reaching out, he touched her cheek with one hand. “I couldn't stay away.”

“I can't make up my mind.”

“I’ll help you.” Gazing deep into her eyes, he began to unbutton her blouse. He took his time, savoring every precious moment. When he had slid it from her shoulders, he stood back admiring her. “You have the most beautiful shoulders in the world.” He leaned down and kissed them, first one and then the other. “Worthy of a poem or two.”

To her amazement he began to quote the Song of Songs. She held her breath, afraid that one single move, one single sound would stop the magic. His voice rose in deep splendor as he quoted from Solomon:

“Rise up, my darling; my fairest, come away. For now the winter is past, the rains are over and gone; the flowers appear in the countryside; the time is coming when the birds will sing, and the turtledoves' cooing will be heard in our land, when the green figs will ripen on the fig trees and the vines give forth their fragrance. Rise up, my darling; my fairest, come away.”

She trembled, still hesitant to speak and break the spell. Without a word he unhooked her skirt and slid it over her hips. Then, with tender care, he knelt before her, unfastened her garter belt, and began to roll down her stockings. He lifted his eyes to hers as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs.

“I'm still not making any promises,” she whispered.

“I am.” He eased her legs apart and kissed her inner thigh. “For the first time in my life I'm willing to make promises.”

He put his hands on her hips and urged her closer.

“Ahhh, Rick.” Her head fell back. White hot sensations shot through her. Blindly, she reached down and caught his hair, tugging him close.

The room tipped upside down. All the colors of the rainbow swirled before her eyes. A storm center built in her and spread.

Rick lifted her and carried her to the bed. She lay with her hair fanned across the pillows and her back pressed flat against the log cabin quilt, gazing up at him. He took his time undressing, making a sensuous show of it.

With the late afternoon shadows making dark patches on his chest and shading his face in mystery, he was glorious. She lifted her arms, and he came to her.

There was no need to hurry. The day was almost over, they had nowhere to go, and the bed was soft and inviting. So was she, he thought. So was she.
Warm
and soft and inviting. The music of a thousand golden oldies played through his soul. And he danced to it.

It was a love dance that lasted until they were both sated and sweaty. Afterward they lay tangled in each other's arms.

She leaned on one elbow and gazed tenderly down at him. “You never did show me what was in that bag.”

His smile was slow and lazy and satisfied. “It worked, didn't it?”

She grinned. “So... that's what's been seducing me all evening? A big old love potion.”

“Big, sweetheart, but not so old.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I figure I have at least a hundred years of loving left in me.”

“Is that a fact? That will be one for the history books.”

Rick got off the bed and unfastened his “love potion.” First he pulled a flat white florist's box out of the mesh bag and handed it to her.

She opened the lid and took out a dozen red roses. She buried her face in the fragrant petals.

“I haven't had roses since I was in college.”

She was genuinely touched. It would be just like that wonderful man to have known. After all, he seemed to know everything else about her. And what he didn't know he was rapidly finding out.

Smiling, she got a vase and put the roses in water. He came up behind her and circled her waist.

“Sweetheart, I intend to give you roses every day for the rest of your life.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle. “And champagne.” He reached in again. “And bread... and grapes.”

She was laughing again. Rick always made her laugh. “Grapes?”

“Absolutely. Don't you know this is the fruit of love?”

“Do we
need
fruit?”

“Are you questioning a gift horse?” He plucked a grape and put it between his teeth. Moving in close, he offered it to her. She bit into it, and the juice dribbled down her chin. Rick licked it off.

“Hmmmm,” she said. “Some fruit.”

“Hmmmm. Some body.” He squeezed a handful of grapes over her breasts and stood back to watch the tangy juice trickle over her nipples. “How can I resist?” He spent a long, leisurely time enjoying the juice.

“My turn.” She took a handful of grapes and squeezed them on his chest. Her tongue flicked at the juice. “Hmmm, delicious.”

He uncorked the champagne and unwrapped the bread. They climbed onto the bed and fed each other bits of bread and sips of champagne straight from the bottle.

A long while later she said, “I could get glasses.”

“Where are they?”

“In the kitchen.”

“Sweetheart, that's much too far away. I can't let you leave on that long journey.”

She fell back on the bed, laughing. He took advantage of her position to reach for a bunch of grapes and drizzle the juice on her thighs. His eyes gleamed as he bent over her to lick away the juice.

“My dear, you
do
know how to serve a man his fruit.”

“Rick... ohhhh, my.”

“If a man... is going... to get... sidetracked...” He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. “...this is the way... to do it.”

While they were sidetracked, the sun disappeared from the sky. The room turned dark and cozy, and it was filled with the pungent smell of grapes and champagne and roses and love.

She was lying atop him when the phone rang. It took her a few seconds to realize where the noise was coming from. She thought it might be her overheated blood boiling and her heart hammering.

“Are you expecting a call, sweetheart?”

“No.”

“Let it go then.” He pressed his lips to the side of her throat.

The phone continued its insistent jangling.

“It might be important.” Martha Ann rolled off him and picked up the receiver.

“Hello,” she said.

“Martha Ann? Is that you? You sound funny.”

It was Evelyn. Martha Ann cleared her throat and tried for a more businesslike tone.

“Of course, it's me.”

“What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” She echoed aloud.

Rick leaned over and kissed her abdomen. “Making Michael.”

“Hush.” She swatted him away.

“What's that, Martha Ann?”

“Nothing. I was just clearing my throat.” She cleared her throat loudly. Rick chuckled.

“Now don't get excited or anything....”

“I'm
not
excited.” But she was beginning to get irritated. Why didn't Evelyn get to the point?

“Oh, yes you are, my sweet,” Rick murmured against her breast. “And exciting, too.”

“Stop that.” Martha Ann playfully punched his chest.

“What?”

“Not you, Evelyn.”

“Martha Ann, what in the world's going on?”

Martha Ann took a deep, exasperated breath. Goodness gracious. Sometimes the Riley girls were as dense as they could be. “You're the one who called, Evelyn. You tell me.”

“Don't get excited...” If Evelyn said that one more time, she was going to scream. “...but I'm in the hospital.”

Martha Ann sat bolt upright. “In the hospital?”

“Here in Pontotoc. It seems Lucy Ann has decided to come early.”

Martha Ann already had her feet over the side of the bed and was reaching for her underwear.

“Listen, don't you dare have that baby till I get there. Do you hear?”

“Well, I'll try.” Evelyn giggled, then groaned. “But you might hurry. It seems that Lucy Ann has a mind of her own.”

“I’ll be right there.” She jerked on her blouse and buttoned it up crooked.

“What's wrong?” Rick was already out of bed pulling on his pants.

“We're having a baby!”

“Not yet, sweetheart, but we will. I can guarantee that.”

Rick refastened Martha Ann's buttons and handed her the hairbrush, which she swore had disappeared to China. Finally, he got her out to his car in one piece.

“I'll drive,” he said. “I don't think nervous aunts should be allowed on the road.”

 o0o

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Lucy Ann O'Grady had already made her debut.

Evelyn was propped up in bed, holding the tiny red-faced baby girl, and Lucky was standing by the bedside beaming.

Martha Ann, dressed in hospital gown and mask, started cooing the minute she saw her niece.

“Just look at her. She has my chin.” She motioned to Rick, who was standing just inside the door. “Don't you think she has my chin?”

He crossed the room, held out his finger, and the tiny hand closed around it. He was immediately smitten.

“That's the first thing I noticed. She definitely has your beautiful, stubborn chin.”

“And look at her eyes, Rick. Don't you think they look like mine?”

He gazed from Martha Ann to the baby and back. “I do believe she does. Lucky little girl.”

“Look at the size of those little feet. I believe she's going to be a tall girl—just like me.”

Evelyn smiled and winked at Lucky. “The next thing you know, she's going to be claiming all the credit.”

He chuckled. “Sorry about that, Martha Ann. This one's ours. You're going to have to have your own baby.”

“And when you do, I'm going to be there with bells on saying she looks just like me,” Evelyn chimed in. Her sister leaned closer and cooed to the baby. “Does anybody in this room smell grapes?”

Martha Ann and Rick both jumped and looked at each other.

“Seems I do,” Lucky said. “Been smelling them from the minute you two walked in the door.”

“Well, I'm trying out a new bubble bath.”

“It must be a new room spray.”

Rick and Martha Ann spoke up at the same time. Then they grinned at each other.

“You go ahead,” Martha Ann said. “Your story sounds better than mine.”

He cleared his throat loudly. “There's just no accounting for the room sprays they use in hospitals these days to kill the antiseptic smell.”

Everybody laughed. Then Lucky handed Rick a cigar, and they went downstairs to the lounge so they could smoke and Lucky could brag.

As soon as the men had gone, Evelyn gave her sister a thorough once-over. “Congratulations, Martha Ann.”

“What are you talking about, Evelyn? You're the one who has just had the baby.”

“I'm talking about those wedding bells I hear. And don't try to tell me he hasn't asked.”

“He has.”

“And?”

“And... I told him I needed time.”

“Time won't change a thing.”

The sisters looked at each other in perfect understanding.

Suddenly Martha Ann smiled. “You are right. You are so right!” She whirled around and started for the door, pulling off her hospital gown and mask as she went.