On Blue Falls Pond (26 page)

“I said I’m going to
try
. Gran seems to have faith that I can do it.”

He smiled and touched her cheek. “So do I.”

Glory broke eye contact before she said something she shouldn’t.

Eric said, “He shouldn’t miss it. He has another one he sleeps with at Jill’s.”

Glory lifted her gaze and tilted her head to one side. “Are you going to tell her about what happened today?”

Eric’s mouth twisted with indecision as he looked toward the woods. Then he looked at Glory. “Yes. I couldn’t keep something like this from her.”

Oooh, honesty. One of the building blocks of a serious relationship
.

Eric glanced over Glory’s shoulder, as if to make sure Tula wasn’t looking this way. Then he leaned down and kissed her quickly, but there was an undercurrent of urgency to it. “Can you come by my house later? I’d come back here, but . . . what I have to say I want to say in private.”

Glory couldn’t find her voice, so she nodded.

“It might take a while at Jill’s. I should be home no later than nine-thirty.”

She managed to squeeze out an “Okay.”

She watched him drive out the long lane, feeling like she was watching him exit her life. Of course he would want to remain friends, would want to help her as one friend helps another. But she’d recently come to understand that was not at all what she wanted from Eric Wilson.

Glory took a shower and changed her outfit three times in her indecision about how to approach this evening: Did she want to dress for seduction? Let Eric know just what he’d be missing if he let her go? Once she had the low-cut dress on, she nearly laughed at herself—she was no seductress.

Then she tried the sophisticated, self-assured, I-really-don’t-give-a-rat’s-ass-what-you-do linen slacks and prim sweater twin set. Of course, Eric wasn’t a man to play those kinds of chase-me-if-you-really-want-me games.

In the end, she put on a comfortable pair of jeans and a gauzy white shirt; a might-as-well-be-comfortable-when-he-dumps-me outfit.

Then she went downstairs and decided to forget trying to fool Granny about her reason for heading into town at nine o’clock on a Sunday evening.

“I’m going to see Eric,” she said simply.

Granny was reading the large-print book that Glory had picked up at the library on Friday morning. She pulled her glasses off and looked up. “All right.” Then she put her glasses back on and her nose back into the book.

Glory stood there for a second. She’d prepared a long explanation about why she and Eric needed to talk. “Don’t you want to know why?”

Granny didn’t look up. “Not partic’arly.”

Glory shifted her weight from one sandaled foot to another, biting her lip. “There are a few things he and I—”

Granny’s gaze snapped up and her mouth puckered with impatience. “Really, Glory. You’re a grown woman.” She took off the glasses again and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t need no explanation about why you’re going to see Eric—or anyone else for that matter.”

“Oh.”

“And I’ll ’ppreciate the same consideration from you when it comes to my affair—ah, activities.”

Glory sat on the couch next to her grandmother as carefully as if she were sitting next to a bottle of nitroglycerine. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Not yet.”

“Then why the throwing down of the gauntlet?”

“’Cause I can see it comin’, just as sure as the sun comes up in the east. You’re gonna try to take care of me. And I’ll tell you right now, if that’s the case, you’re gonna have to find someplace else to live.”

“Hey! All I did was drive you to the doctor.”

“You think I don’t know that dog business is ’cause of me? You think I need you here—I need you to support me. That ain’t the case.”

“Honestly, Gran, I’ll be doing the service dogs, here or someplace else. I just thought you might enjoy helping.”

“I ain’t a charity case.”

“I said ‘helping’—not having money shoveled to you for nothing in return. It’s called a job.”

Granny’s mouth pinched closed. Glory hoped the comment would make her begin to think differently.

But Granny wasn’t finished. “’Sides that, I seen the little things you’re doin’. You been readin’ those booklets from Dr. Blanton’s office. First it was the throw rug in the hallway disappeared, then the one in front of the kitchen sink. Next you’ll be marking the edges of the steps with bright orange tape.”

“And what’s wrong with that? It’s to keep you safe.”

“It’s too soon! I don’t need none of that yet. And believe you me, when the time comes, I’ll take care of it!” She took Glory’s hand. “So let’s just get things straight right now. I won’t treat you like a teenager and you won’t treat me like I need to be in a nursing home, and we’ll abide just fine. Otherwise . . .”

“Otherwise, you’re kicking me out.”

“We’re growed women. We can share a house—but we each got to respect the other. That’s all I’m sayin’.” She paused. “Otherwise, I’m kickin’ you out.” She grinned and patted Glory’s hand. “Now get on.”

Glory drove into town, mentally preparing for what Eric needed to “say in private,” fighting the self-pitying feeling that everyone she cared about was trying to shut her out.

Glory arrived at Eric’s shortly after nine-thirty. His porch light was on and his front door open. She climbed the steps and looked through the screen into the living room as she knocked.

He wasn’t in sight.

She heard his feet thumping down the stairs as he called, “Come on in.”

He met her at the bottom of the stairs as she entered. His hair was wet, he had on a T-shirt and shorts and was barefooted. He kissed her cheek, “Sorry, I just got back and took a quick shower.” He led her back toward the kitchen, not to the couch where they’d made love. “How about something to drink?”

He’d been at Jill’s for a very long time. Glory’s stomach was feeling pretty rocky at the moment. “Do you have Sprite?”

“Sure. Have a seat.” He motioned her to the table. Then he poured a can of Sprite over ice for her and opened a can of Coke for himself.

When he sat down at the table, he said, “I checked with Connie after I got home. Trevor’s been released. The dislocated shoulder was the worst of it. He was a lucky kid.”

“That makes two very lucky kids today.” She took a sip of Sprite and noticed her hands weren’t too steady.

Eric slumped back in his chair and propped his feet on another one. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, and Glory saw just how much today’s scare had taken out of him. “Don’t I know it.”

“Jared was still very upset when Charlie took the boys home.”

Eric sat a little straighter. “I told him not to beat himself up. The important thing was that Scott was all right, and the best thing to do was take a lesson from this; little kids can get into trouble faster than a frog can grab a fly.”

“I know, he told me. Still, he nearly had himself hyperventilating at one point, worrying over what
could
have happened.”

“He shouldn’t. Useless worry like that can make a person crazy.”

“Tell me about it,” Glory said drily.

Eric looked intently at her. “Yes, I guess that
what-if
gate swings both ways—the bad and the good that didn’t happen. But working rescue, I’ve come to understand you deal with what
is
, not what might have been. Anything else is a waste of valuable energy.”

Glory tilted her head. “You don’t ever think how different it could be for Scott?”

He looked as if she’d caught him in a lie. His voice was grave when he admitted, “I try not to—but sometimes, it’s just
there
, you know? It flashes in my mind at unexpected moments—like when that little girl rode by on the mini-Harley today . . .” He paused. “I guess my point is not to allow it to consume you, not to let it have a place in your daily life.”

“Like I have?” Glory might have gotten defensive if he didn’t look so miserable at the moment.

“I wasn’t thinking of you, actually.”

“Jill?” Her mouth went dry as she forced herself to face the conversation that had to be—made herself deal with what
is
.

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. He appeared more exhausted than he had the morning after her accident when he’d stayed awake most of the night.

She took pity and said the words for him: “You’re going back to her.”

Chapter Twenty-two

F
OR A LONG MOMENT
Glory sat holding her breath. Her heart felt about to burst in her chest. She’d known that this moment would be difficult, but until now she hadn’t understood exactly how deep her feelings for Eric were. After months and months of being alone, isolated from all emotional risk, she’d soaked up his friendship, his support, his caring intimacy as drought-cracked land drinks in the first precious drops of rain. In an unbelievably short time, he’d become dear to her, a partner, a lover.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

Glory finally overcame the vapor lock in her lungs. “That’s what you wanted to tell me in private, isn’t it?”

His expression lost its ambiguity and took on angry definition. “What gave you the idea I’m considering going back to Jill?”

Of all things, she didn’t think she’d find herself on the defensive in this discussion. “I saw Jill on Friday when she picked Scott up.”

“She said we were getting back together?” His voice held a razor edge.

“Not directly, I suppose, but I certainly got the message.” She rushed on, “And I understand. Really, I do. If it’s best for Scott . . .”

Eric looked as if he was about to explode. His breathing was rapid and rough. He said tightly, “Do you really think I would have made love to you if I was considering going back to my ex-wife—for any reason? Is that what kind of man you think I am?”

“When you put it that way . . .” Of course that wasn’t the kind of man he was. And this conversation wasn’t at all what she’d prepared herself for. “You aren’t?”

He stood and hauled her out of her chair so quickly, she was crushed against his chest before she could begin to react.

“Jesus, do you really think I could hurt you that way? After all you’ve already been through?” He eased back and framed her face with his hands and kissed her roughly, with an intensity that left her knees trembling and her insides a mass of quivering heat. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Glory. I never imagined I could feel like this . . . I want you—your body, your heart, all of you.”

When he kissed her again, the lead weight Glory had been carrying around in her chest melted and slid away from her heart as if converted to liquid mercury. Her arms went around his neck, and she met his passion with her own.

Locked in an embrace, he moved them until her back was against the kitchen wall. He put his palms on the wall on either side of her head, keeping his body pressed against hers. His mouth caressed her ear, then moved to her throat, sending shivers down her neck and stirring the embers of heat in her most intimate places.

She lifted her chin and ran her hands into his hair as his lips found the hollow at the base of her throat.

He whispered against her skin, “You’re the woman in my heart . . . only you.”

Glory clung to him as if her life depended upon it. She could hardly believe his words; it was too much to hope for—and yet, he’d said them.

His hands moved to her breasts; even through her clothes, his touch ignited fire. His hands caressing her, his warm, moist breath on her flesh, the feel of his hair against her fingers, all made every inch of her beg for more.

His mouth returned to hers, his kiss an expression of where he wanted to take their bodies.

She burned for him in a way she’d never experienced.

Running her hands under his shirt, she felt the solid muscle of his back. Such strength . . . if only he could protect her with that strength. But she knew there were things about herself that no one could protect her from. And until she resolved just how treacherous those things were, she had to maintain some emotional distance.

She wanted nothing more than to give herself to him completely, but batted away her carnal fog. She had to think; there was too much at stake here to screw this up.

When she pulled away from his kiss, her mouth throbbed from the force of their passion. She licked her lips, savoring the taste of him.

He looked deeply into her eyes, keeping her pressed against the wall. His breathing was as ragged as her own, his body as fully aroused.

It would be so easy to let this moment ride on its own momentum to the natural conclusion. So very easy. She throbbed with need. But that need went deeper than the flesh. And she didn’t want to risk fulfillment of that soul-searing emotional need by succumbing to physical desire now.

She removed her hands from the inside of his shirt, held his gaze and tried to draw a steady breath. “You haven’t told me your reason for asking me here.”

He caressed her cheek with such gentleness it stirred an ache in her soul, an ache that would undoubtedly be eased if she allowed him to make love to her.

With his forehead resting against hers, he said, “At the moment, I’d rather do this than talk.” He dipped his head and nipped her lower lip.

Closing her eyes, she gathered her resolve. “Me, too. But . . . there was something on your mind; that needs to come first.”

He groaned and said, “Oh, yeah.”

She realized what she’d just said,
needs to come
. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

With a gruff laugh, he said, “You’re right.” He stepped away but kept a hand on her arm. “There are things we need to talk about.”

She sat back down in the chair he’d plucked her from minutes ago. He paced restlessly about the kitchen. She wasn’t sure if it was physical discomfort from unfulfilled passion or mental unrest that kept him moving.

“I guess there are two things we need to get out in the air. First,” he said, “I should tell you why I spent so long at Jill’s this evening.”

A confession? Or an explanation?
Glory tried to keep herself from jumping to conclusions.

He said, “I don’t want there to be secrets between us, Glory. I want total honesty or nothing at all.”

She nodded slowly, never taking her eyes off him. “So do I.”

“I learned the hard way that communication is the key to making a relationship work—communication and honesty.”

That heavy coating of lead was accumulating around her heart again. Honesty might be more painful than she’d ever realized.

“Jill does have it in her head that she and I need to get back together for Scott—that he’ll benefit from living in a house with both his parents.”

“And do you share that opinion?” She was proud of the steadiness in her voice—a brave woman, facing honesty in all of its harshness.

“Hell, no. There is no way a child is better living in an environment with two parents who can’t trust one another. That poison is bound to leak out and hurt him.” He looked directly at Glory when he said, “And I could
never
trust Jill again. Scott’s problems don’t change that reality.” He circled the kitchen again before he leaned against the counter. “I had no idea she’d said something to you.”

A thought hit Glory like a stiff, cold wind. “Why did she?”

“What? Say something to you?”

Glory nodded. “She was clearly warning me away from you.”

Eric said, “No one knows that you and I . . .”

“That’s what I thought, too. But Ovella asked me about you the other day. Obviously, we’re out there more than we thought.”

Glory wondered if Jill could be the one sending her the messages. It made as much sense as anything. If Jill wanted Eric back, what better way to get Glory to leave town than to threaten her with exposure of her darkest secret? And the more Glory remembered, the more she feared that there
was
a secret.

Jill had had the opportunity to put the T-shirt in the Volvo. That brought up another question. At some point during Eric’s investigation, could he have insinuated to Jill that he thought the fire might be arson? It was all too possible.

Glory’s fingers and toes went numb.

Eric cut a hand through the air and spoke again. “It’s not important who knows about us. I made it clear to Jill tonight that there is no chance of us getting back together. I can’t believe she really wants it anyway—not for the long haul.”

Glory wished she could be so certain.

He crossed his arms. “Now for that second issue, the reason I asked you here. I have a question for you, but I don’t want you to answer it tonight. I want you to really think it through.”

Glory sat silent, waiting, worrying, her mind trying to unravel several mysteries at once.

Eric went on, “I care too much for you to treat this as a casual affair—I don’t have casual affairs.” He gazed deeply into her eyes for a moment, then swallowed as if the words were difficult to deliver. “My question is, do you think you’ll be able to accept Scott—as he is? He’s a part of me. And I understand if you can’t; it’s a lot to ask of any woman. But he’s the center of my life; I can’t allow myself to follow my heart freely as if he didn’t exist.”

He wanted more than a casual affair. Did
she
want more? Her heart answered yes. But her mind said it might not be the best idea—and Scott wasn’t the only reason. If there was even a shadow of a doubt about her involvement in that fire, how could she have a lasting relationship with Eric?

Still, the question he posed was serious enough to unravel their relationship without any other issues. Apparently her aversion to Scott had been ill concealed. Eric was a father first. That was part of what she admired about him, his devotion to those he cared for. It was such a different thing from what she’d experienced with Andrew. Andrew demonstrated his love through control, albeit in the sheep’s clothing of protection.

She knew Eric thought her reluctance to interact with Scott stemmed from his unique problems. But it wasn’t that, never had been. And although she still could not name the reason she held herself apart from him, something had changed today. There had been a shift inside her when she’d held him beside that rushing creek, a tiny crack in the wall that seemed to have separated her and Scott from the first day.

Could she overcome her own shortcomings and love this little boy freely?

As if he saw the workings of her mind, Eric said, “I mean it. I don’t want you to answer now. I want you to take your time. It’s too important to answer impulsively, on the heels of”—he pointed to where he’d had her pinned against the wall—“that.”

She nodded slowly. “All right.”

There didn’t seem to be anything to say after that. She’d come here expecting to lose Eric forever. But he wanted more from her, not less. And that was nearly as frightening.

Was she the woman he thought her to be?

If Eric had at one time entertained the notion that the fire that killed Andrew had been intentionally set—who did he think had set it?

The comments he had made about Andrew had been critical; but arson? Eric hadn’t gone that far.

Besides, it didn’t fit. Why would Andrew set a fire and not escape himself? Even more perplexing, why set the fire at all? If he’d wanted to be rid of Glory, all he had to do was let her walk out the door.

No, if that fire had been intentionally set, the one most likely responsible (to any logical-thinking person) was Glory. The one found trying to escape the burning house. The one with no money, no job, no way out of a destructive relationship—and no memory of that night.

She needed air. She got up and headed out of the kitchen. “Don’t walk me out.” Hurrying through the house, she went straight to the front door without looking back. Once she was in her car, she glanced up and saw his shadowed form standing in his front door.

As she started to pull away, she realized the car was listing slightly to the left and the steering was sluggish. She stopped and got out. The front driver’s-side tire was flat.

Eric called through the screen door, “What’s wrong?”

“Flat tire.” She felt close to tears. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She wanted to be alone, to drive fast with her window down and her thoughts uncensored.

He came down the porch steps, across the sidewalk, and knelt beside the tire. “Not just flat—slashed.”

“No.” She looked more closely. He ran his finger along a two-inch gash in the sidewall. “I’ll be . . .”

He stood up and looked up and down the dark street.

“Teenagers! You’d think they’d find better things to do—”

“Save it. You and I both know better.” He started toward the back of the car. “I assume there’s a spare in the trunk.”

“Yeah. I’ll pop it.” Of course, he was right. The street was lined with vehicles and Glory’s car was parked directly under the streetlight. This wasn’t a random act.

After she popped the trunk, she knelt to look at the ruined tire. As much as she’d wanted to think this the act of a jealous ex-wife, it was unlikely that Jill would load up her son this late at night and drive past Eric’s house on the off chance that Glory would be there.

Or was it? How badly did she want Eric back?

She called to Eric, “Did you tell Jill I was coming here tonight?”

He didn’t respond. Was he pissed that she would insinuate Jill could have done this?

She started toward him, no need to shout for the entire neighborhood to hear. He stepped out from behind the car holding the defaced T-shirt that she’d forgotten she’d hidden from Granny in her trunk.

Her heart froze in midbeat.

“No secrets. That’s what you said.” His voice was tight, angry. “Is this your idea of honesty?” The muscles in his arms were tense, near trembling, as he gripped the shirt. “What else aren’t you telling me, Glory?”