The Way Home (14 page)

Somewhere along the way, she stopped thinking, ceased inventorying her reactions and creeping carefully to find her path.

Instead, she gloried in his touch, his taste, surrendered to the dizzying pleasure. When she seized the initiative, shoved him over and mounted, his fierce expression softened to a fond smile, as if this behavior was a facet of who she really was.

She threw her head back in abandon and heard James laugh from sheer delight.

His hands raked her hair, slid to her hips, coaxed her higher. Clever fingers and skillful mouth sent her reeling, then she was gone and gone and—

She bent to him. “Come with me.” Sealed her mouth to his.

He growled, flipped her to her back and joined them. Bella gasped, and for a second, she lost the ability to breathe.

Then she soared once more, this time caught with him in a bliss like one pure note of music. For brief, unbearably precious moments, they were no longer strangers, despite everything that had sundered them.

Simply…James. His Bella.

One.

T
HUNDER RUMBLED
in the distance.

James opened his eyes but didn’t move.

Bella lay beside him at last, legs tangled with his, her breathing the sweetest melody he’d ever heard. His arms tightened instinctively to keep her there, and she stirred.

He buried his face in the tumble of her curls and prayed for her not to awaken.

He wasn’t ready. He had no idea what to say. How to hold to his promise when being so near her, being inside her, had been better than any memory, any dream.

You know me,
he said silently.
Deep within, far past consciousness, you sense that we belong.

But the shadow over his joy was his betrayal, inexplicable as it was, then and now.

As he rediscovered Bella, he was hauntingly aware of how they’d taken their nearly magical connection too much for granted. They belonged together in the most primal way, but they’d allowed their attention to fragment. Focused too much on their children and their other responsibilities and assumed that their bond would hold, that it didn’t require tending.

Even the strongest link, he realized, could grow rusty and weaken if not maintained. As the economic pressures on the company had grown, he’d put more and more hours into saving it. He hadn’t comprehended how much Bella had lost her bearings when the children had left home, and he’d considered her urging him to take time off as a distraction, a luxury. Something to be dealt with later.

He hadn’t explained. Hadn’t wanted to talk about his troubles when he spent all day wrestling with them. Had, he understood now, shut Bella out in the name of shielding her.

So she had found a new focus that required many hours away from the home that was too empty—and their time together had become even more scarce.

Here was a second chance for them.

Typically, it was Bella who had made the first leap into the unknown.

It was good, so very good, to be with her again. If she never remembered, he thought it would be okay, after all. She already cared about the kids, and if she’d felt a fraction of the power he had just now, there was reason for optimism. They could make a life, perhaps an even better one.

The temptation to keep silent about why they’d parted was strong. He would not stray again, no question. Bella would never have to know, and how would he explain it when she had no context? It hadn’t been about sex, anyway—he’d been too proud to tell Bella how bad the company’s situation was and thus had robbed them both of the chance to fight it together. He’d fallen for an understanding ear, a respite, and that one fall from grace had left the taste of ashes in his mouth.

But he’d never lied to Bella before, not about anything more serious than a surprise.

He craved a clean slate, an honest start. He only needed a little more time to cement what they’d begun tonight, then he would tell her. And pray that she would find enough good in him to make her want to forgive him.

He would never forgive himself. Or settle until they were past it.

Please,
he beseeched.
She is my heart.
He embraced her, clasped treasured curls in one fist. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Hmm.” Bella sighed. Wriggled closer without opening her eyes. “Mmm…”

She squirmed against him, and his body responded.

You don’t have to forgive me,
he promised silently as he rolled her to her back. Moved over her.
I’ll earn your love again, I swear.
He slipped between her legs, put his mouth to her throat.
Just don’t leave me, my love.

He grazed her body with kisses, fastened his lips to one breast.

She jolted as though someone had thrown a breaker and sent electricity racing through her. “James?”

“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

And he set out to bind them once more.

“I
T’S RAINING
,” she said lazily, stroking his head where it rested, pillowed between her breasts.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound worried that we could get stuck here.”

He lifted his head. Met her smile. “It’d be a real shame.”

“Indeed.”

He swirled his tongue over her nipple.

She arched her back. Felt his body respond. “Aren’t we supposed to be too old to do it this often?”

“We’ve got time to make up for.” He chuckled. “Anyway, there are worse ways to die.” He sat up. “You’re right, though. The spirit’s willing, but I’d hate for you to have to drag my cold, dead body down this mountain.” He stood. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

Abruptly, he sank back and dragged her into his lap. Cradled her near. “I’ve missed this so much, just holding you. Do you mind?”

His cheek rested on her head. “Uh-uh.” She snuggled close, feeling both oddly naked and absolutely comfortable. Cherished.

Falling in love with this man would be no challenge. She was halfway there already.

Then he tensed. “Bella, I should tell you—”

A massive crack of thunder shook the entire cabin.

James gripped her, then released her. “Wow. I’d better bring in some more wood. I don’t think we’re leaving just yet.” He shoved his legs into his pants and began to dress. “Don’t be frightened. We’re not at the peak, and there are much higher trees to attract the lightning.”

She grinned. “I’m not the least bit afraid with you.”

His expression was hard to interpret in the increasing shadows. “You can count on me, Bella, I swear it. I will always take care of you.”

Then he shrugged on his coat and was out the door.

Sighing, drifting, Bella did a little pirouette. And laughed for sheer, lazy, ridiculous joy.

Then she donned her clothing, too, and went to figure out what she could fix for them to eat.

“Y
OU THOUGHT AHEAD
,” she teased as they devoured the soup she’d heated, the dark bread she had made the day before with Luisa. “Are you always such a planner?”

“Guilty as charged.” He smiled, but she could feel the reservation in him, a small indefinable space that had crept between them.

After what they’d shared, she’d been ready to cast her lot with him, let him transport her wherever was home. They had been one, she would swear it, one heart, one soul as two bodies joined.

But now…a subtle distance was making her uneasy again.

Would they ever be completely comfortable with each other?

Time for another step. “James?”

“Hmm?” He broke from his preoccupation.

“Cameron said you have pictures.”

“Maybe you’ve had enough for one day.”

She placed her hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?” Then she removed it. “Maybe you regret—” She withdrew into herself.

He shoved back his chair. Knelt beside hers and clasped her hands. “Never. Not for one second.” His expression was intent. “It was everything to me.
You
are everything, Bella. My life, all the joy and beauty I’ve ever known.” His voice roughened. “You changed me.” He glanced away. “But I’m afraid I changed you more.”

He was so obviously upset. “What do you mean?” To soothe him, though, she brushed her fingers over his hair.

He rose to pace. “You were never meant to be caged. You’re a butterfly, a rare one, with a value beyond price.” He locked his eyes on hers. “From the moment I met you, my world held colors I’d never seen. Riches I couldn’t imagine.”

She could only shake her head. “I don’t feel rare.”

“And that’s my shame. As much as I’ve loved you—and I have, Bella, with every breath—” He neared her again. “I trapped you. Our lives became too much like the world I was from, not the dreams you had for us.”

“I don’t understand.” His intensity had her wishing for some room to breathe.

“I—” He spread his fingers. “It would be a long story, but maybe the pictures will help. Let me show you what you were. What happened to us.”

“I was unhappy with you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think you were, but I was busy, too busy with the company. I missed the signs.”

“It’s a big responsibility, all those employees.”

He brought out a box. Set it on the table. “Don’t excuse me, Bella. I don’t deserve it.”

“People get overloaded, James. Don’t be so hard on yourself—Oh, look!” She spied a photo on top. “It’s Cam, isn’t it? This—” She smiled. “This is the baby I remembered…” Her voice trailed off as she tilted the photo into the light. “Your hand…” Her gaze jerked up to his. “James, this is what I remembered, this picture. Exactly. I drew it one night. I was scared to death I’d forget it again. This is what convinced me to override Sam and get my photo put out for the world to see.” She clenched his arm. “I wanted my family. I could feel Cam’s hair, how it was to have your arm around us both, and I wanted that.”

She could barely see him through eyes swimming with tears. “I’ve been so lonely. So lost. Oh, James…” She leaned into him, needing his embrace, his strength. The assurance that she wasn’t adrift anymore, that she belonged.

When he enfolded her and bent his head to hers, rocking her slowly, for the first time since she’d awakened, she began to truly believe that the nightmare would be over.

“I can love you, James. I want to. I’ll try harder to remember—”

He clutched her so tightly she could barely breathe. “Oh, Bella. God—” Agony was in his voice. “I don’t deserve you. I’ve made mistakes. Such mistakes.”

“Shh,” she murmured, sliding one hand to his cheek. “I’m sure I did, too. We’re human, after all.” She smiled. “Let me have more pictures. I want to know everything. The house—” She glanced back over her shoulder as she reached for the next one. “Do you have it? I’d like to see where we live.”

“Bella—”

“Hush, now. We’re together. That’s what matters, isn’t it?” She picked up an album. “Is it in here?”

He was regarding her as if she were an oasis and he the one lost. “You’re my miracle, Bella. Don’t ever forget that. Please.” So earnest and intent. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy, completely happy.”

How could she not be touched to her marrow? Didn’t every woman dream of a man speaking his heart to her? Pledging his soul?

“Let’s start here,” she said gently. “Show me our home, James. Introduce me to the girl you loved and the boy you were. Let me view how our lives played out.” She held the album out to him. “Is this a good place to begin?”

He stiffened, then exhaled as if he was relenting. Giving up some battle. “Yeah,” he said. “You put that together, so it probably is.”

“Here,” she said. “Let’s sit together and go over what you’ve brought me.”

“Okay,” he said finally. “All right.”

They settled, side by side, at the old oak table and began.

S
HE WAS LIKE A KID
in her delight, her absorption. “Oh, lordy, would you check out that dress? What was I thinking?” Her eyes were laughing as she glanced up at him.

“You were beautiful. You still are. The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Not in this outfit, buddy.” She elbowed him in the side. “With that eighties attempt at Farrah Fawcett’s hairdo.” She gave a dramatic shudder, then abandoned that page for the next.

He couldn’t help stroking the tangle of ringlets. “You should always let it have its way. The curls are so…you.”

“A mess.” But she chuckled.

“My mess.” Overcome, he pressed his face to her hair.

When she leaned into him, even as she kept devouring the images of their life together, the closeness, the ease between them, was a gift.

“Oh, check this out. Is this the factory? Cameron’s taller than Cele in this one. When did that happen?”

“When he was in sixth grade, actually. Poor mite. She never stood a chance. And he was insufferable, though not so much as when he passed you in height. He’d walk around patting you on the top of the head. ‘Hi, shortie,’ he’d say to you, and act like he was going to bust his buttons.”

She grinned. “But he never got taller than you.”

“Hey, a dad needs some advantage when his boy can run rings around him.”

She chuckled, then bent to the pictures again. “You are so imposing in a suit.” She traced him with one finger. “But jeans seem more natural, somehow.” She glanced at the rocking chair, then at him. “I’d like for you to do more of that. It’s where your heart is.”

“I can’t right now.”

“The business troubles you. Want to talk about it?”

“It’s not a pretty story.”

“Life isn’t always pretty.” She touched the back of his hand lightly. “I can listen, James. Whether or not I can do anything else to help.”

As she would have, all along. If only he’d offered her the chance. If they hadn’t lost their way.

He had to say it. Couldn’t live the lie any longer. “Bella, there’s something I have to tell you first.”

She frowned. “What is it?”

How he yearned to grab her and never let her go. “First, you must know that you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Ever will.”

“You’re frightening me.” She started to withdraw a little. The album tipped, and a photo fell out. She grasped for it. Caught a glimpse.

Went very still. She brought the snapshot closer. A shudder shook her. The album fell from her grasp to the floor, and she barely blinked.

James caught a glimpse of the photo, and his heart shriveled. A big day at the plant. His administrative staff surrounded him.

Including Julie.

All color drained from Bella’s face. She turned to him, her eyes huge with horror. With anguish and the beginnings of fear. Of him.

She shrank from his touch. Began shivering like the last leaf surrounded by barren branches.

“Sweetheart—” he began, and the old argument echoed in his head.
Why, James?

It meant nothing.

How could you? I have to go.

Something’s dying inside me.

“Oh my God,” she barely whispered. “Her. You—” She pointed, and the photo trembled in her hand.

“Bella, I swear to you, it—”
Meant nothing.
That argument hadn’t swayed her before. Why would it now? “It was a mistake, a bad one, but it wasn’t intentional. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He went unashamedly to his knees beside her, every atom of him pleading. “Don’t give up on us, Bella. I understand what I’ve done wrong. Where we both—” But he didn’t finish. Yes, she’d made mistakes, but the lion’s share of guilt was his.

“I…left you.” She studied her ring finger. “The thieves didn’t get my ring.”

“No.” He pulled the circle of gold and diamonds from his pocket where it had been, day and night. Held it up to her.

“I removed it myself. When I—” Her expression was a study in devastation. Despair. She let the photograph flutter from her grasp. Let him see that his fate would be the same.

“Bella, don’t walk away from us. From what we had. What we could have.”

Grief covered her features. “All of this.” Dazed. “None of it had to happen.”

His jaw clenched. “No. It’s my fault, every bit of it.” He locked his eyes on hers. “Will you let me explain?”

She didn’t look away, but neither did she speak for long seconds while he felt naked and impotent as never before in his life, not even the night she’d left him.

Because now he truly understood what he’d lost. What he would miss the rest of his life. When he hit rock bottom, anger swam to his rescue. Determination. He took one step toward her.

She set her jaw. Her eyes sparked, and she held her ground.

He was astonished to feel the beginnings of a smile.

“What on earth could you possibly find amusing?” Her own fury was rising to displace the devastation.

“I’m not amused.” How could he be, with a heart breaking? “But it’s good to encounter the woman who’d as soon spit in my eye as give an inch. Who’s broken a cabinet’s worth of crockery over the course of our life together.”

Fire sparked in her eyes. Her fingers twitched as if they longed for something to throw. “How could you?” A growl. A curse. “You bastard. You—”

Then all the fight fled from her, and her frame collapsed in on itself. “You…hurt me, James. Hurt us. Killed my hope that we’d ever find our way—” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

He reached for her, and she flinched.

He’d thought he’d hit bottom, but he’d been wrong. Nothing could wound him worse than having the love of his life reject his comfort.

As the instrument of her pain, he’d lost the right to extend it. He wanted to, desperately, nonetheless.

But he was not the answer.

However bitter the knowledge, he had to try once more. “If you remember that, do you recall the rest? How much we loved each other? All the good years, happy years we had? What an incredible family we were?”

“Were,” she said dully.

“Are, Bella.” He leaned forward. “All that love isn’t gone.”

But she shook her head over and over, denying him even an inch.

He could deal with her stubbornness, wait her out. They would stay here until she saw reason.

When she sank to the floor, though, back bowed in despair, he was afraid of what this would do to her health.

Then he knew what he had to do. “I’ll return you to him. Sam.” Every word was a knife in his chest.
He
should be her refuge.

But he’d forfeited that privilege. “Despite the storm, if I drive slowly, we should make it.”

She didn’t respond, and everything in him longed for her to refuse.

Finally, she nodded. “All right.” Straightened and wiped at her eyes.

However much she loathed him, he despised himself more. With leaden steps, he began preparations to leave.

Silently, she did the same. They might as well have been on opposite sides of the moon.

He stood at the door with his raincoat to put over her to keep her dry. He didn’t care, just now, what happened to him. The rest of his life spread out before him, an endless desert.

She paused over the album and retrieved it, closed it gently. Picked up one of the loose photos of their once-happy family and traced each of their faces, even his.

For a second, faint hope fluttered.

Then she set it on the table, facedown.

Turned her back on their past.

And stepped, deliberately, on the photo that had brought everything crashing back.

T
HE TRIP DOWN
the mountain was silent and cold. The anticipation that had accompanied their ascent only hours earlier as dead as the ashes of their love.

Once at the garage apartment, she hesitated, fingers white on the car-door handle. “Go on home, James.”

As he heard the finality of her tone, something stirred him from his despair. “Bella, we have to talk about this. We’ve shared too much to give up.”

She retreated into the rain. “Not now,” she said, her gaze as anguished as his soul.

“When?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“I don’t know.” She stood there, getting drenched, and seemed to feel none of the downpour. “I have to think.”

“I’ll wait for you. I won’t leave until—”

“No. You have a business to save. And children who need you.”

“None of that matters,” he said bitterly. “Nothing but you. I love you.”

You should have thought of that before you betrayed me.
He waited for her to say it. He’d earned it.

But she only regarded him sadly. “I loved you, too.”

He closed his eyes as grief settled into his bones.

Loved.
Past tense.

He opened them, bent forward. “You still can, Bella. We’ve had so much joy together, and we can have more. Don’t throw it all away over what meant nothing.”

At last, her eyes sparked again. “If you say that one more time, I cannot be held responsible for the consequences.”

Most sane individuals would find her threat alarming. He was admittedly barely sane just now, after all they’d been through.

But despite everything, his heart lifted, just a little.

If she was angry, she wasn’t indifferent.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bella.” When her jaw set, he elaborated. “I’ll leave you alone, but I am not running home like a whipped dog.” He gentled his voice. “Go on, get inside. You’re soaked.”

She seemed ready to argue, then changed her mind and walked away.

He watched her through the downpour, and rolled down the window, shouting to be heard. “I may be one stupid son of a bitch, Isabella Rosaline, but I am also a man in love who understands what he’s lost. I am going to fight for you. Just you wait.”

Then, though he wanted badly to follow her inside and make certain she was dry and warm and safe, he forced himself to throw the vehicle into Reverse and drive off.

But then he saw, in his rearview mirror, Dr. Sam the Opportunist sprinting from his house toward her apartment.

All control vanished. He jammed on the brakes and whipped a U-turn. Closed the gap in seconds and charged from his vehicle, not even bothering to shut the door. Rain was the least of his worries. “Get away from there,” he shouted.

Lincoln paused. “What have you done to her?” He swiveled back. “Jane, are you all right? Let me in. Did he hurt you?”

“She’s not Jane.” A haze of rage dropped over James’s vision. “You got that?” He grabbed Lincoln’s shoulder and whipped him around. “She’s my wife, not yours. Leave her alone.”

Lincoln tried to shrug him off, but James could not be moved. He was fighting for his life, his love.

“Jane!” Lincoln shouted. “Tell me you’re okay.”

When she still didn’t answer, the mild-mannered doctor vanished. He grasped for the doorknob.

James lost it. Jerked the man back and slammed a fist into his face.

Lincoln came up swinging. They lost footing in the mud, but Lincoln didn’t seem to care, and James sure didn’t. He hadn’t taken a punch in too many years to count, but his helplessness to sway Bella was swallowed up by the welcome heat of battle. Here was something he could do—beat the hell out of the guy who wanted to steal her from him.

The one she trusted instead of him.

Lincoln landed a good one, and James went down on his back. Just as quickly, he lunged and brought his opponent to the ground with him. They rolled and punched and grunted, but neither man yielded. Lincoln probably had fifteen years on him, and James would feel it later, but in this instant, all he could register was that he was fighting for Bella.

For the life he’d let slip away.

Not one more bit would escape from his grasp, he thought, and reared over the other man, fist drawn back—

“Stop it!” Bella cried. “Both of you!” She waded into the middle.

James shifted to keep her out of harm’s way—

And Lincoln caught him square on the chin.

James dropped like a rock.

W
HEN HE AWOKE
, his body was a mass of sore muscles and bruises. He wrinkled his forehead, winced at a tightness and realized his head had been bandaged. His lip was split, and his right hand was swathed in bandages, too.

He glanced around the strange room that he thought might be part of Lincoln’s house. He levered up—

And groaned. Hard. Tomorrow would be a bitch.

Then he recalled Bella rushing into the fray and his attempt to save her.

“Bella?” He scanned the room frantically for a sight of her. “Bella, where are you?” No answer, so he made his way painfully to his feet.

As he trudged toward the door, he heard raised voices.

“Do not phone the sheriff, Sam. Let James be.”

“Jane, it’s not for my sake—it’s for yours. I can tell that he hurt you somehow, even if you won’t explain.”

“I told you to call me Isabella. And this isn’t your business, Sam. This is between us.”

Isabella.
Heartened, James made his way down the hall and into the kitchen, where they stood.

But if he’d thought he’d get a welcome from her, he’d been wrong. “What are you doing up?” Her tone was frigid.

Lincoln picked up the phone and dialed.

“Sam, no—” Bella grabbed for the receiver.

“Let him,” James said. “I’m not afraid of him.”

“You should be, you bastard,” said Lincoln, and wheeled on him.

“Bring it on.”

“Stop it!” As before, Bella jumped in between them. “Both of you.” She poked James in the chest and did the same to Lincoln.

James refused to quit glaring at Lincoln.

Until he noticed tears in her eyes. “Sweetheart—” He moved toward her.

She held out a palm. “Get away from me. You, too,” she said to Lincoln. “Just—just leave me alone. I’m sick to death of—” Her voice broke, and she ran.

James wanted desperately to follow, but he forced himself to stay. When Lincoln moved, James grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t. If you care about her, don’t make it worse.”

“What did you do to her?”

“Too much to forgive,” James answered. And with that, his hopes faded. He headed for the door. Lincoln tried to prevent him, and James shook him off. “I’m not going to her, much as I’d sell my soul for her to wish for me to.” He faced the man whose record with her was a clean slate. “You intend to move in on her the second you find an opening. I understand that. She’s the most amazing woman in the world.” He reached to rake his fingers through his hair and winced. “But I’m asking you to give her room. She may not want me anymore, and I can’t blame her. I’ve loved her with everything in me, but I’ve also wronged her. Taken what we had for granted. She’s been through a lot—”