Starlight (13 page)

They clung to each other, their hearts beating wildly as one. His lips followed a slow path down her neck and bare shoulders while his hand wandered over her back, over her hip, molding her soft, womanly body to the hardness of his. Their mouths met, slanting across each other with hungry impatience.

Karen’s mind reeled, and she couldn’t convince herself this was reality. A whispering sigh escaped her as Rand buried his face along the side of her neck, his mouth spreading hot kisses over her naked flesh. Karen caught her breath at the flood of pleasure, her fingers gripping his head, drawing him back to her lips. His open mouth sought hers in an urgent kiss that sent her world careening. His hands, sensuously caressing her hip, slipped upward, capturing the ripe fullness of her upturned breast, and she was swept along in a violent whirlpool of desire. Winding her arms around his back and pressing her full length to him, she answered his passion with her own.

Suddenly, Rand tensed, his muscles rigid with attention. Lifting his head, he listened attentively to the stillness, leaving her naked and bereft as he stood in anticipation.

“Rand?” Karen whispered, sitting upright.

“I thought I heard a noise.” Wearily, he rubbed his hands over his face. He lowered himself onto the bed; leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands.

“I thought you’d gone.” She covered herself with the housecoat from the end of the bed.

He smiled wryly. “I couldn’t find my coat. What happened in here?”

She gestured weakly with her hand. “I was crying and didn’t see where I was going.”

He nodded, his face weary and pinched.

“Please, Rand,” she pleaded, her voice wobbling dangerously, “don’t do this to us.”

He stiffened at the sound of her voice. “Don’t … it’s over.”

“There will never be anyone who will love you as much as I do.” Bitterness was etched in her pain-ridden eyes.

He stood abruptly, hurrying from her room. “I’ve got to get out of here. Damn it, Karen, my coat.”

Tying the sash of her housecoat, she followed him into the living room and to the closet.

“Here.” She handed it to him. “I’m going to let you go, and I’m not even going to say good-bye. We’ll probably never meet again. You’ll live your life, and I’ll live mine. But I love you, Rand. I’ll love you as long as I live, and someday, maybe not for a long time, you’ll regret this.”

The hand closed over the door handle was clenched so tight it became stark white. He didn’t pause or acknowledge her words. Instead, he yanked open the door and left.

Karen jerked as the door slammed, crying as she had never cried, her breath coming in desperate gasps, the tears from her soul.

Hugging her arms protectively against her stomach, she sat in the chair Rand had vacated, curling into its softness like a hurt child seeking comfort from a parent. The gold locket and bracelet remained on the floor, and Karen stared at the glimmering gold for a long time before bending down to retrieve the pair. Clenching them to her breast, she rocked back and forth with an anguish too deep for tears.

She remained in the chair the entire night, her gaze watching the candles while they burned themselves out. First one, then the other, the last desperate flicker before extinction. The room went dark. Karen stared with sightless eyes into a moonlit, shadow-filled room, realizing the throbbing pain in her head would diminish, but not the pain in her heart.

The sun, gradually rising to announce a new day, spurred her into sluggish action. It took a careful application of makeup to camouflage the red swollen eyes as she dressed for work. “I’ll make it through this day, and then I’ll be all right,” she told herself, knowing she was lying. It would be a very long time before she was all right again.

Until that day, Karen had no idea how good she was at lying, how automatic certain responses became in one’s life.

Late afternoon, she sat at her desk, examining the final details of a day’s work, knowing she’d never find solace in her job, wondering if she’d ever find comfort.

Matthew’s cheerful face was waiting for her outside her apartment. Karen avoided
his eyes, praying he wouldn’t mention Rand.

“Evening, lass.”

“Hi, Dad. I’m kinda busy …” She didn’t have the heart to tell him he couldn’t come inside.

“ ’Tis fine. I’ll only stay a minute.” He followed her and sat at the kitchen table while she put on coffee to brew. When she gave him a sidelong glance, she found he was watching her with an odd expression.

“When will ye be seeing Rand again?”

Karen turned back to the countertop, closing her eyes for a moment at the searing pain. “I won’t,” she said flatly.

She could sense the shock that rocked him. “I’m sure I must not be hearing ye right,” he said after a few minutes of stunned shock.

“Look, Dad”—her voice shook violently—“I don’t feel much like discussing it right now.”

“But ye love him,” he cried indignantly.

“Of course I love him,” she whispered through the pain.

“And he loves you?” This time, Matthew’s voice was quiet and probing.

Karen couldn’t keep her bottom lip from trembling. “Yes, he loves me … but love doesn’t make everything right,” she uttered in a hoarse whisper, blinking wildly to restrain the tears.

“But why?” her father asked in confusion. It was a question that had haunted Karen half the night.

“Because he’s proud; he thinks he’s only half a man and if I love him now, that love will eventually die when he loses his eyesight completely.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “He wants me so much it’s eating a hole in him; he had to push me away before it was too late.” Karen grimaced with the memory that she had accused Rand of being half a man, lashing back where it would hurt him the most because he was hurting her so desperately.

Gently, a pair of hands settled on her shoulders and turned her around.

“Don’t,” she told him tautly, shrugging off his hands. “I’m a grown woman now. I’m not your little girl anymore.”

Matthew ignored her, turning her into his arms, holding her close, his cheek resting gently against her head. “Even big girls require a father’s comfort every now and then,” he whispered.

Karen buried her head against his chest, the tension draining from her as she allowed the tears to come. “Oh, Dad, I love him so much.”

“I know you do, lass,” Matthew crooned. “Let it all out, darlin’. Let it all out.”

A week passed. Matthew and Judy enfolded Karen in their love and support, trying to make sure she was busy, not letting her stay alone for any long length of time. Karen lost weight she could ill afford to lose, and her eyes developed dark shadows that cosmetics were unable to hide. When she wasn’t working or with her family, she sat in the big overstuffed chair, looking pensive and lost.

Matthew seemed to feel talking about Rand would make things easier. Her father felt certain that once Rand had come to his senses, he would be back. Karen didn’t bother to correct him.

Another week slipped by, and Karen knew she couldn’t live like this much longer. Friday afternoon, she gave Tacoma Cable a two-week notice, drove home, and handed a similar notice to the apartment manager.

“Lass.” Her father let himself into her apartment, his face hurt and confused. “What have ye done?”

Karen didn’t pause. “I’m leaving Tacoma,” she announced without emotion. Dark curls escaped the scarf she’d tied around her head. She was standing on the kitchen counter, cleaning out her top cupboards. Boxes littered both the kitchen and the living-room floor. “I should have done this two weeks ago.” She dipped the cleaning rag in the bucket of hot, steaming water and wrung it out.

“But, lass, when Rand comes back …”

“Dad,” she protested angrily, “when will you get it into your thick skull? Rand isn’t going to come back. It’s over between us.”

Matthew grew visibly pale and sat down.

“Dad”—concern laced her voice, and she jumped down from the counter—“are you all right?”

He nodded weakly. “I’m fine.” His eyes searched hers, holding a desperate appeal. “I don’t want you doing something rash. You’ve been hurt, and seeking a geographical cure would be the worst possible thing for you. I told you before, things have a way of working out for the best. Just where are ye planning to go?”

Karen had expected an argument, and squared her shoulders defiantly. “Away … I don’t know yet.”

Matthew shook his head sadly. “I don’t like this, lass.”

Karen had known he wouldn’t and that she hadn’t heard the last of it. “I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve barely left the state of Washington. I think it’s time I learned to live a little, let my hair down, travel.” Her enthusiasm was as phony as that of a used-car salesman. There was only one thing she wanted in life, and that was
impossible. She couldn’t chance meeting Rand. She couldn’t stay. Not in the same city, not in the same state. Not in the same world.

Judy arrived an hour later; her eyes held an accusing, disbelieving look. “You’ve pulled some good ones in your life, little sister, but this takes the cake.”

“Oh? What have I done now?”

“Do you realize you’ve got Dad worried sick?”

Karen flushed guiltily, dropping the pretense. “I know, but I’ve got to leave. I wish I could make you understand. Do you realize what it does to me every time I’m near the university or see Uncle Evan or even drive in downtown Tacoma? Someday it’s going to happen. By fate or design, I don’t know, but some day I’m going to run into Rand. I won’t be able to take it.” Her voice rose, and she took a moment to compose herself. “I’ll fall into a thousand pieces. I know I will. If you and Dad think I’m running away, then all right, I’ll admit it.”

Judy sighed, her eyes filled with compassion. “I wish I had some magic formula that would take away the hurt, but I don’t.” She gave a weak gesture of helplessness. “I’m not convinced you’re doing the wrong thing, like Dad is. But I do know we all love you. Let our love support you; let us be your strength.” She paused for a minute and withdrew something from her purse. “Maybe if you read this, it’ll help.”

Karen accepted the letter, grown yellow with age.

“When Mom died,” Judy continued, “Mike and I were stationed back east. Both boys were little, and I was stuck home alone most of the time. I had no family, no close friends, or anyone I could talk to about my feelings. I didn’t know how to handle my grief. For weeks, I walked around in a haze of emotional pain.”

Karen understood; her life had been a haze of pain since that last night with Rand.

“All I seemed capable of doing was crying. I know Mike was worried about me. He must have written Dad because I received this letter. It’s the most beautiful thing Dad has ever given me.”

Karen opened the letter and was greeted by Matthew’s familiar scrawl. The date was exactly three months after her mother’s death. It was a vivid memory. Madeline had suffered from a chronic kidney disorder, and when she contracted an infection, it didn’t overly concern Karen or her father. She’d had several infections over the years. Karen had even felt her mother was getting better. Then one day she was in the hospital, insisting she should be home, and two days later she was dead.

Karen had loved and sorely missed her mother, too, but her concern had been for Matthew and the changes that had come over him after Madeline’s death.

The letter showed the wear of many readings; the stain of Judy’s tears marked the
pages.

It read:

Tears blurred Karen’s eyes and spilled down her face. The end of her relationship with Rand was very much like her mother’s death to Judy. She smiled through her tears, grateful for her sister’s love. She, too, would pay the price for loving Rand, but now, because of a letter full of love and wisdom, she would pay the price with joy.

Judy may have accepted Karen’s decision to leave, but Matthew made repeated efforts to dissuade her. Karen listened politely to his logic, sometimes doubting the wisdom of her actions, but never wavering from the decision.

Selling her furniture and packing her things filled her last remaining days in Tacoma. It was the nights that continued to haunt her. She’d lay awake for hours in a reflective mood, wondering what she might have done differently to have won Rand. The sharp pain remained, and Karen pondered how long it would take for it to lessen. Sometimes, if she lay very still and closed her eyes, she could almost feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. She’d shake herself, realizing she was doing the right thing by leaving. She couldn’t bear the struggle to be free of him for much longer. All the memories were right here to torment her.

Only three days remained of Karen’s two-week notice. Most of the things from her apartment had been sold. Only her bed and the large, overstuffed chair remained.

Because she couldn’t sleep, she sat reading, finding it hard to concentrate and equally difficult to answer the doubts that bobbed to the surface of her mind. Karen
realized, perhaps for the first time, how much she would miss her home, her city. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she didn’t really want to leave Tacoma, but the alternative was just as unacceptable.

When the doorbell rang, it caught Karen by surprise. She glanced at her watch, curious who would be visiting so late.

“Who is it?” she questioned before unlocking the door.

“Rand,” came the muffled reply.