hapter Sixteen

One month later

Cal poked his head into her bedroom through the connecting bathroom door. A glint shone in his eyes. “I’m taking a shower. You want to get in with me?”

She slid her gaze over his deliciously naked body, so beautifully delineated in the morning light, and had to resist the urge to lick her lips. “Maybe another time.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“I think I do.”

The inadvertently wistful note in her voice seemed to amuse him. “Poor little Rosebud. You’ve really boxed yourself into a corner, haven’t you?” With a cocky smile, he disappeared into the bathroom.

She stuck out her tongue at the empty doorway, propped her cheek on her bent elbow, and thought about that April night one month ago when she’d made her impulsive decision to take off her clothes and go to him. The unexpected electrical failure just as she’d walked into his bedroom had marked the beginning of a night of pleasure and passion that she would never forget. She smiled to herself. In the month that had passed since then, Cal had gotten very good at making love by touch.

She’d gotten rather good at it herself, she thought with a certain amount of pride. Maybe his lusty nature and lack of inhibition had freed her from her own inhibitions. She would do anything… everything… except let him see her naked.

It had become a game. She would only make love with him at night with the lights out, and she always awakened sometime before dawn so she could return to her own room or slip into his if they’d fallen asleep in her bed. He could have changed the rules. He could have overpowered her, or left her so breathless at high noon with his kisses that she relented, but he never did. He was a competitor, and he didn’t want to win by guile, only by her total surrender.

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Her insistence on making love in the dark had begun as a gentle form of sexual teasing, but as one week faded into another and she realized how deeply she had fallen in love with him, something changed. She began to worry about how he would react when he finally saw her. She was now four months pregnant, and although she bloomed with health, her waist had thickened to the point where she couldn’t come close to fastening her slacks and her days wearing tucked-in blouses were a thing of the past. With her expanding belly and unimpressive breasts, she could never compete with all those beauties in his past.

But it was more than the shortcomings of her body that made her hesitant. What if mystery was the lure that drew him to her bed each night? Mystery and the enticement of the unknown? Once his curiosity was satisfied, would he lose interest?

She wanted to believe it wouldn’t matter, but she knew how much Cal loved a challenge. Would he enjoy her company as much if she bent to his will? She seemed to be the only woman in his life, with the exception of his mother and grandmother, who stood up to him.

He was an intelligent, decent man with a generous heart. But he was also domineering and competitive. Was it only the novelty of her rebellion that made him seek her company, both in and out of bed?

She faced the fact that her time for playing games had run out. She needed to stop being a coward, take off her clothes so he could see her, and face the truth. If he didn’t want her for who she was, but only for the challenge of conquering her, then what they had together was worthless. She had to do it soon, she decided. It was crazy to keep this going on any longer.

She got out of bed and made her way to her bathroom. After she’d taken her morning vitamins and brushed her teeth, she returned to her room, and, with one hand on her growing belly, wandered over to the window so she could gaze out at the May morning. The mountainside was alive with blooms: dogwood, rhododendron, flame azaleas, along with budding mountain laurel. Her first Appalachian spring was more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. Violets, trillium, and lady slippers had unfolded in the woods where she walked, and wisteria bloomed at the side of the house along with a white shower of blackberry blossoms. She had never experienced such a breathtaking, joyous May.

But, then, she’d never been in love, either.

She understood how vulnerable she’d made herself, but as the guarded look Cal had carried in his eyes for so long was replaced by laughter and tenderness, she began to believe that he might be falling in love with her. Two months ago the idea would have been absurd, but now it didn’t seem so impossible.

For people who should have nothing in common, they never ran out of subjects to talk about or things to do. While she spent her mornings at the computer, Cal worked out and took care of his local commitments, but they spent most afternoons and many evenings together.

Cal had finished painting Annie’s house while she’d put in the garden. They’d visited Asheville several times together, where they’d dined at some of the city’s best restaurants and walked the grounds of the Biltmore Estate with busloads of tourists. They’d hiked some of the easier trails in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, and he’d taken her to see Connemara, Carl Sandberg’s home, where she’d been enchanted by the beautiful setting and he’d taken pictures of her playing with the goats that were kept there.

By unspoken agreement, they didn’t go into Salvation together. When Jane had shopping to do, she went alone. Sometimes she ran into Kevin, and the two of them lunched together at the Petticoat Junction

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Cafe, where she ignored the hostile stares of the locals. Luckily, she could still conceal her pregnancy with loose-fitting dresses.

She and Cal continued to fight when he got high-handed, but it was generally a good kind of fighting, and he never displayed any of the cold hatred that had been so much a part of him in those early weeks. Instead, he roared away to his heart’s content, and she refused to ruin his pleasure by not fighting back. The truth was, she enjoyed their battles as much as he.

She heard the shower cut off. Since there was no sense exposing herself to additional temptation, she gave him a few minutes to dry off and wrap a towel around himself before she rapped softly on the partially open bathroom door, then let herself in.

He stood at the sink with the black bath towel looped so low on his hips she was surprised it didn’t drop off. As he spread shaving cream across his jaw, he took in her cherry red Snoopy nightshirt.

“When are you gonna show a little mercy, Professor, and stop enticin’ me with those sexy negligees?”

“Tomorrow night I’m wearing Winnie-the-Pooh.”

“Be still my heart.”

She smiled, lowered the lid on the toilet, and took a seat. For a while she contented herself with watching him shave, but then she returned to the subject of yesterday’s argument.

“Cal, explain to me once more why you won’t spend a little time with Kevin?”

“Are we back to this again?”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t coach him. He really respects you.”

“He hates my guts.”

“That’s only because he wants to move up in the world. He’s young and talented, and you’re standing in his way.”

His muscles tensed. He didn’t like the fact that she spent time with Kevin, but since she’d made it clear that she regarded him as a friend, and since Cal had apparently told Kevin he’d break both his arms if he so much as touched her, they’d settled into an uneasy truce.

He tilted his head and shaved under his chin. “He’s not as talented as he thinks. He’s got a great arm—no doubt about that. He’s quick and aggressive, but he has a lot to learn about reading defenses.”

“Why don’t you teach him?”

“It’s like I said, I don’t see the logic in training my competition, and I also happen to be the last person in the world he’d take advice from.”

“That’s not true. Why do you think he’s still hanging around Salvation?”

“Because he’s sleeping with Sally Terryman.”

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Jane had seen the curvaceous Sally in town several times, and she decided Cal had a point, but since it wasn’t the one she wanted to make, she ignored it. “He’d be a lot better player if you worked with him, and you’d be leaving something important behind when you retire.”

“Which won’t be for a long time.” He ducked his head and rinsed off the shaving cream.

She knew she was treading on dangerous ground and stepped carefully. “You’re thirty-six, Cal. It can’t be much longer.”

“Which just goes to show what you know.” He grabbed a hand towel and dried his face. “I’m at the top of my game. There’s no reason for me to retire.”

“Maybe not right away, but certainly in the foreseeable future.”

“I’ve got a lot of good years left.”

She thought of the shoulder he rubbed when he thought no one was looking, the whirlpool he’d had installed in the bathroom, and knew he was fooling himself.

“What are you going to do when you retire? Do you have some business ventures lined up? Are you going into coaching?”

His back muscles tensed ever so slightly. “Why don’t you just stick to those top quarks, Professor, and leave my future to me?” He headed into his bedroom, whipping off his towel as he walked over to his bureau and pulled out a pair of briefs. “You remember, don’t you, that I’m taking off for Texas later this afternoon.”

He’d changed the subject. “Some kind of golf tournament, I think you said.”

“The Bobby Tom Denton Invitational.”

“He’s a friend of yours?” She got up from the toilet and leaned against the doorframe that led into his bedroom.

“Honey, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Bobby Tom Denton. He’s only the most famous wide-out to ever play football.”

“Wide-out?”

“Wide receiver. They’re the ones quarterbacks throw to. I want to tell you, the day he blew out his knee and had to retire was one of the worst days in the history of pro ball.”

“What’s he doing now?”

He yanked on a pair of khakis. “Mostly putting up a good front. He lives in Telarosa, Texas, with his wife Gracie and their new baby. He acts like his family and the charity foundation he runs are all he needs in life.”

“Maybe they are.”

“You don’t know Bobby Tom. From the time he was a little kid, he lived to play ball.”

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“It sounds as if he’s doing some important work.”

“The Denton Foundation?” He pulled a dark brown polo shirt over his head. “It does a lot of good, don’t get me wrong. This golf tournament alone brings in a couple hundred thousand for a whole bunch of good causes, but I guess the way I look at it, there are lots of people in this country who could run something like that, but there’s only one guy in the world who can catch a football like B.T.”

In Jane’s opinion, running a charitable foundation seemed a lot more important than catching a football, but she knew when to hold her tongue. “Retirement could be exciting. Think about yourself, for example. You’ll have the chance to start a whole new life while you’re still young.”

“I like the life I have.”

Before she could say anything else, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms, where he proceeded to kiss her until she was breathless. She felt him harden through his slacks, but it was daytime, and he drew back with obvious reluctance to gaze down at her through heated eyes. “You ready to cry ‘uncle’ yet?”

Her eyes drifted to his mouth, and she sighed. “Just about.”

“You know, don’t you, that I won’t make it easy on you. I’m not going to be satisfied with anything less than stripping you naked in broad daylight.”

“I know.”

“I might even make you walk around outside.”

She regarded him glumly. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“ ’Course I wouldn’t make you do something like that stark naked.”

“You’re all heart.”

“I’d prob’ly let you wear one of those nice pairs of high heels you’ve got.”

“A man in a million.”

He started to kiss her again. Then he was cupping her breasts, and they were both breathing so hard she didn’t ever want to stop. Just that morning she’d told herself she was going to stop playing games with him, and now was the time. With one hand she reached for the hem of her nightshirt.

The telephone rang. She inched her nightshirt higher and continued kissing Cal, but the phone’s persistence ruined the mood.

He groaned. “Why isn’t the answering machine picking up?”

She let go of the nightshirt. “The cleaning women were here yesterday afternoon. They must have turned it off by mistake.”

“I’ll bet it’s Dad. He was going to call me this morning.” He relinquished her with reluctance, rested his

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forehead against hers for a few moments, then kissed the tip of her nose.

She couldn’t believe it. She’d finally worked up the nerve to let him see her pudgy body, and the stupid phone had to ring! Giving him his privacy, she headed for her bathroom, where she showered, then dressed. Afterward, she made her way to the kitchen.

Cal was slipping his wallet into the pocket of his khakis. “That was Dad on the phone. He and Mom are meeting for lunch in Asheville today. I hope he can convince her to put an end to this craziness and move back home. I can’t believe she’s being so stubborn.”

“There are two people involved in that marriage.”

“And one of them is bullheaded.”

She’d given up arguing with him about this. He was convinced that his mother was at fault in his parents’ separation because she was the one who’d moved out, and nothing Jane said could persuade him that there might be another side to the story.

“Do you know what Mom told Ethan when he offered her some pastoral counseling? She told him to mind his own business.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Ethan might not be the best person to offer counsel.”

“He’s her pastor!”

She barely resisted rolling her eyes. Instead, she patiently pointed out the obvious. “You and Ethan are both too involved personally to be counseling either one of them.”

“Yeah, I guess.” As he picked up his car keys from the counter, he frowned. “I just don’t understand how something like this could happen.”

She gazed at Cal’s troubled face and found herself wishing Lynn and Jim could settle their differences, not only for themselves but for their sons. Cal and Ethan loved their parents, and this estrangement was painful for them.

Once again she wondered what had happened to Lynn and Jim Bonner. For years they seemed to have managed to live together very well. Why had they separated now?

Jim Bonner strode into the Blue Ridge dining room at the Grove Park Inn, Asheville’s most famous hotel and resort. It had always been one of Lynn’s favorite places, and he’d asked her to meet him here for lunch. Perhaps its pleasant associations would soften his stubborn wife’s heart.

The Grove Park Inn had been constructed at the turn of the century to serve as a luxurious refuge from the summer heat for the nation’s wealthy. Built into the side of Sunset Mountain from rough-hewn granite, the massive structure was either ugly or splendid, depending on your viewpoint.

The Blue Ridge dining room, like the rest of the hotel, was furnished in the rustic charm of the Arts and Crafts movement. He walked down several steps that led to a lower dining area and spotted Lynn sitting at a small table positioned by the tall windows that overlooked the mountains. He drank in the sight of her.

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Since he refused to visit her on Heartache Mountain, he either had to telephone or watch for her when he knew she’d be coming to town. He made excuses to drop by church on Wednesday evenings when she met with the worship committee and kept his eyes peeled for her car in the Ingles grocery store lot.

For her part, she seemed to do her best to avoid him. She always chose times when she knew she wouldn’t run into him to stop at the house, either when he had office hours or was making his hospital rounds. He’d been relieved when she’d agreed to meet him today.

His pleasure at the sight of her faded into irritation. This past month didn’t seem to have changed her, while he felt bruised and old. She wore a loosely woven lavender-and-cream jacket that he’d always liked, along with silver earrings and a silky top and skirt. As he pulled out the heavy wooden chair across from her, he tried to convince himself those were marks of sleeplessness he saw under her eyes, but they were probably only shadows cast by the light coming in through the windows.

She gave him the same cordial nod she used to greet strangers. What had happened to the enchanting young mountain girl who’d giggled uncontrollably and decorated his dinner table with dandelions?

The waiter approached, and Jim ordered two glasses of their favorite wine, only to have Lynn request a Diet Pepsi instead. After the waiter left, he regarded her inquisitively.

“I’ve gained five pounds,” she explained.

“You’re on hormone replacement therapy. You have to expect some weight gain.”

“It’s not the pills that are doing it to me; it’s Annie’s cooking. If something doesn’t have a stick of butter in it, she doesn’t think it’s edible.”

“Sounds to me as if the best way to get those five pounds off would be to come home.”

She paused for a moment before she spoke. “Heartache Mountain has always been my home.”

He felt as if a cold draft had blown across the back of his neck. “I’m talking about your real home. Our home.”

Instead of responding, she picked up the menu and began to study it. The waiter delivered their drinks and took their order. While they waited for their food, Lynn spoke of the weather and a concert she had attended the week before. She reminded him to have the air conditioner checked and talked about some new road construction. It made him ache inside. This beautiful woman who used to speak only from her heart now never did.

She seemed determined to avoid anything personal, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid talking about their sons. “Gabe called from Mexico last night. Apparently neither of his brothers has seen fit to tell him you’ve moved out.”

Concern furrowed her brow. “You didn’t say anything, did you? He’s got enough to deal with as it is. I don’t want him worrying.”

“No, I didn’t say anything.”

Her relief was visible. “I’m so worried about him. I wish he’d come home.”

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“Maybe someday.”

“I’m worried about Cal, too. Have you noticed?”

“He looks fine to me.”

“Better than fine. I saw him in town yesterday, and I’ve never seen him look happier. I don’t understand it, Jim. He’s always been a good judge of character, and that woman’s going to break his heart. Why can’t he see her for what she is?”

Jim grew grim at the thought of his new daughter-in-law. He’d seen her on the street a few days earlier, and she’d walked right past him, just as if he didn’t exist. She’d refused to show up at church, declined social invitations from some of the nicest women in town, and even failed to attend a testimonial dinner for Cal the Jaycees had given. The only person she’d give the time of day to seemed to be Kevin Tucker. None of it boded well for his son.

“I don’t understand it,” Lynn went on. “How can he be so happy when he’s married to such a… a…”

“Cold-hearted bitch.”

“I hate her. I can’t help it. She’s going to hurt him badly, and he doesn’t deserve it.” Her brow furrowed, and her voice developed a huskiness that indicated the depth of her upset. “All these years we’ve waited for him to settle down and marry someone nice, someone who loved him, but look who he’s picked—a woman who doesn’t care about anyone but herself.” She regarded him with troubled eyes. “I wish there was something we could do.”

“We can’t even straighten out our own troubles, Lynn. How could we expect to solve Cal’s?”

“It’s not the same thing. He’s— He’s vulnerable.”

“And we’re not?”

For the first time, she sounded vaguely defensive. “I didn’t say that.”

Bitterness tightened his chest and rose like bile in his throat. “I’ve just about had it with this cat and mouse game you’re playing. I’m warning you, Lynn; I’m not going to put up with it much longer.”

He realized right away that he’d made a mistake. Lynn didn’t like being backed into a corner, and she always met aggression with her own brand of quiet stubbornness. Now she regarded him levelly. “Annie told me to tell you she doesn’t want you calling the house.”

“Well, that’s just too bad.”

“She’s really angry with you.”

“Annie’s been angry with me since I was eight years old.”

“That’s not true. Her health is making her cranky.”

“If she’d stop putting a stick of butter in everything, she might start feeling better.” He leaned back in the chair. “You know why she doesn’t want us talking. It’s because she’s got a good thing going having you

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on Heartache Mountain full-time to take care of her. She won’t give that up easily.”

“Is that what you think?”

“You bet it is.”

“You’re wrong. She’s trying to protect me.”

“From me? Yeah, right.” His voice softened. “Damn it, Lynn, I’ve been a good husband to you. I don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

She looked down at her plate, and then up at him, her eyes full of pain. “It’s always about you, isn’t it, Jim? From the very beginning everything has revolved around you. What you deserve. How you felt. What kind of mood you were in. I’ve built my life around trying to please you, and it hasn’t worked.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Look, forget everything I said that night. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just—I don’t know—having some kind of mid-life crisis or something. I like you the way you are. You’ve been the best wife a man could ever have. Let’s just forget all of this happened and go back to the way things were.”

“I can’t do that becauseyou can’t do it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Someplace inside you there’s this knot of resentment that formed the day we got married and has never gone away. If you want me back, it’s only out of habit. I don’t think you like me very much, Jim. Maybe you never have.”

“That’s absurd. You’re overdramatizing this whole thing. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Right now I want to please myself.”

“Fine! Please yourself. I’m not standing in your way, and you don’t have to run away to do it.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re going to blame me for everything, aren’t you? Go ahead! You explain to your sons what a bad guy I am, then. And while you explain it, remind them thatyou’re the one who’s walking out on a thirty-seven-year marriage, not me.”

She regarded him levelly. “You know what I think? I think you walked out on our marriage the day we said our vows.”

“I knew you’d start throwing up the past at me. Now you’re going to blame me for the sins of an eighteen-year-old boy.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just tired of living with the part of you that’s still eighteen, the part of you that still hasn’t dealt with the fact that you knocked up Amber Lynn Glide and had to take the consequences. The boy who thinks he deserves something better has never gone away.” Her voice grew soft and weary. “I’m tired of living with the guilt, Jim. I’m tired of always feeling as if I have to prove

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myself.”

“Then stop doing it! I haven’t made you live that way. You’ve done it to yourself.”

“And now I have to figure out how to undo it.”

“I can’t believe how selfish you’re being. Do you want a divorce, Lynn? Is that what all this is leading up to? Because if you want a divorce, you just tell me now. I’m not living in this limbo forever. Just tell me right now.”

He waited to see her shock. What he had suggested was unthinkable. But there was no shock, and he began to panic. Why didn’t she tell him to stop talking so crazy, that their situation wasn’t nearly bad enough to even think about divorce? But once again, he’d miscalculated.

“Maybe that would be for the best.”

He went numb.

She got a faraway look on her face, almost dreamy. “You know what I wish? I wish we could start all over. I wish we could meet each other again with no past history, just two strangers getting acquainted. Then, if we didn’t like what we found, we could walk away. And if we did like what we found…” Her voice grew thick with emotion. “The playing field would be level. There’d be a—a balance of power.”

“Power?” Fear churned inside him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She regarded him with a look of pity that cut right through him. “You really don’t, do you? For thirty-seven years you’ve had all the power in our relationship, and I’ve had none. For thirty-seven years I’ve had to live with the fact that I was a second-class citizen in our marriage. But I can’t live that way anymore.”

She spoke so patiently, like an adult explaining something to a child, and it enraged him.

“Fine!” He lost his ability to think clearly and acted on raw emotion. “You can have your divorce. And I hope you choke on it.”

He threw down a wad of bills he didn’t bother to count, shot up from his chair, and stalked from the dining room without a backward look. As he hit the hallway, he realized he was sweating. She’d turned his life upside down from the day he’d met her.

Shewanted to talk aboutpower! From the time she was fifteen years old, she’d had the power to twist his life out of shape. If he hadn’t met her, everything might have been different. He wouldn’t have come back to Salvation and been a family doctor, that’s for sure. He’d have gone into research, or maybe he’d have hooked up with one of the big international outfits and traveled around the world to do the work on infectious diseases he’d always dreamed about. A million possibilities would have been open to him if he hadn’t been forced to marry her, but because of her, he hadn’t explored any of them. He’d had a wife and children to support, so he’d gone back to his hometown with his tail between his legs and taken over his father’s practice.

Resentment seethed inside him. He’d had the course of his life irrevocably changed when he was still too young to understand what was happening. She’d done that to him, the same woman who’d sat in that dining room and told him she had no power. She’d fucked up his life forever, and now she blamed him.

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He stopped in his track as all the blood rushed from his head. Jesus. She was right.

He sagged down on one of the couches that sat along the wall and dropped his head into his hands. Seconds lapsed, turning into minutes as all the mental barriers he’d erected against the truth grew transparent.

She’d been right when she’d said he’d always resented her, but his bitterness had become such an old, familiar companion he hadn’t recognized it for what it was. She was right. After all this time, he still blamed her.

The many ways he’d punished her over the years came flying back in his face: the fault-finding and subtle put-downs, his blind stubbornness and refusal to acknowledge her needs. All those little punishments he’d inflicted against this woman who was the closest thing he had to a soul.

He pushed his fingertips into his eye sockets and shook his head. She was right about everything.