Tessa McDermid - Family Stories (4 page)

Her father lowered his Bible. "Mother does work wonders with her flowers. Marian, take Frank for a turn around the garden."

They walked out of the parlor and down the back hal . Once outside, he took a deep breath.

"They're not that bad," Marian said.

"I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles al through dinner," lie confessed.

"You were nervous?"

"With good reason. Your father just kept me on my toes. He's a very sharp man, Marian. I didn't know what he was going to ask me next."

She led the way into the little garden area. They were behind the house, away from the parlor windows.

She stopped near a rose bush, idly touching one of the pink petals, her back to him. "Did you mean that about staying, Frank? Are you real y going to interview for a job?"

She had left her hat in the house. The soft breeze ruffled her loose curls. Her skin seemed to reflect the bright colors of the flowers, and his breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful.

He had to get away so he could think clearly. He stumbled onto the path and started walking in the opposite direction. When she cal ed out his name in a dismayed voice, he didn't stop, breaking into a run as he left the path and entered an unplowed field. He final y slowed near a clump of trees, leaning his head against the nearest one, gulping in the fresh air.

Stil trying to catch his breath, he heard her footsteps behind him. "Frank, what's the matter with you?" she asked in a breathless voice.

He bit his lip, unable to face her; he didn't move until he felt a timid touch on his arm.

"Frank, please, what's the matter?"

He turned then and saw his confusion mirrored in her eyes. With a strangled sob, he put his arms around her, pul ing her close. Her arms slowly crept around his neck. When she lifted her face, he kissed her.

She tasted of cinnamon apples and sunshine. His eyes closed and he probed her lips with his tongue, wanting to taste more of her.

Her hands pushed at his chest. "Please, Frank..."

Fear sounded in her voice. Cursing himself for forgetting that she was an innocent, he raised his head.

"Marian," he said thickly.

She traced the side of his cheek with her fingertips. "Why did you kiss me like that?"

He almost chuckled at the childlike wonder in her question.

He rested his forehead against her silken curls. "Because you drive me mad."

"I do?"

A hint of womanly pride edged into her voice. He bent down, gently nipping her nose with his lips. "Yes. Does that please you?"

She giggled. "I've never driven a man mad before."

He pul ed away from her until he could gaze into her eyes. "Marian Cooper, you probably drive every man in this town wild."

Her lashes fel but not before he saw the swift gleam of satisfaction in them. "How could I?" she asked softly.

"I'm the minister's daughter."

He felt an urge to swat her behind. Instead, he pressed a hard kiss on her lips. "That's exactly why, you little minx. It's enough to drive any normal man crazy."

"I've never wanted to drive a man crazy before."

The implication in her quiet words acted like a tonic on him. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging her off the ground. This time her lips answered his silent pleas and parted under his kisses, letting him taste the ful ness of her mouth, her tongue meeting his again and again.

His breath ragged, he slowly lowered her to the ground and knelt beside her, his hands stil on her arms. Her mouth was bruised from his kisses and he bent down, gently kissing each swol en lip. "Marian, I'm sorry. I should never have done that."

"Why not?"

"Because you're so young." He dropped his hands and rocked back on his heels, hands lightly clasped behind his back so he wouldn't be tempted to touch her. He wished now that he hadn't been with al those other women, that he could offer her a body as innocent as her own. "I won't be staying, after al . I can't control myself around you."

"Why should you?" she asked in a whisper.

He turned away, jamming his hands in his pockets. "Marian, I'm somebody new and different. I've brought a little variety into your life and when I leave, you'l forget al about me."

She grabbed his sleeve, her touch forceful. "Frank."

He turned again, surprised at the passion in her voice. "Yes, you are different. But I've never kissed a man like I just kissed you, Frank Robertson, or felt any desire to do so. Do you have any idea what the last three days have been like? I didn't know if you'd return. And I wasn't sure what I'd do if you didn't."

She tossed her head, the curls that had been loosened by their kisses fluttering around her face. "I don't want to live without you, Frank. I love you."

He grabbed her wrists. "You can't love me, Marian. You don't know me."

"I know enough." Her lips curved upward and she leaned toward him. "Kiss me, Frank, kiss me and tel me you don't feel something, too."

"That isn't love."

"Kiss me."

Her insistent command pushed him to the brink. He took her by the shoulders, dragged her against him, his blood pounding as his chest col ided with her soft breasts. She murmured against his lips and the action sent him into a frenzy of longing. They sank to the ground, his hands searching for the buttons on her dress, only half-aware of her hands tugging his shirt out of his waistband.

Her skin felt cool. She stiffened when his fingers slid over her breast and he hesitated until she arched against his hand. Her fingernails began a delicate dance under his shirt, trailing patterns over the bare skin of his back until he could hardly breathe.

"Marian..."

She pressed her fingers over his lips. "Don't say anything, Frank. Just love me, please."

Her hand found its way to his thigh, moving slowly upward.

She hesitated at the front of his trousers. He caught his breath, waiting. Her fingers were light, sending tremors through his entire body. His body threatened to explode under her caresses and he forced himself to slow down, to savor each glorious moment.

He touched one peaked nipple with his fingers and heard her answering moan. When she shifted, he slid his hand under her skirt, edging the sturdy material up until he felt the soft skin of her thigh above her stockings.

She ducked her head against his shoulder and he nuzzled her with his chin until she lifted her head and he could reach her lips again.

His fingers skimmed her leg, the skin heating beneath his hand. "Oh, Frank," she breathed in wonder.

No woman had blossomed under his hands like she did. The others had been eager for him, wil ing to open their bodies to relieve a temporary boredom, to find a new experience. But Marian had never been with a man before; he knew that as surely as he knew he was embarking on an unparal eled adventure of his own.

His fingers stil ed, his conscience awakened by the knowledge that she was a virgin. As if drugged, he lifted his head and surveyed her with heavy-lidded eyes. "Marian, we need to go back to your house."

Her hands clutched him around the waist. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"

He heard anguish in her voice and quickly kissed her lips. "No, darling, no. But this isn't right."

"I love you, Frank."

His heart turned over at the words but he wouldn't take her virginity in the middle of a field. She deserved candlelight and flowers, a soft bed, privacy.

And another man... His conscience jabbed him again. Who are you, anyway? A traveling salesman who'll go off and leave her after your own passion is sated.

The cold water of reality doused the remnants of his passion. He slid away from her, tucking in his shirt and climbing to his feet.

"Frank?"

He reached out a hand without looking at her. "Marian, we have to go. I don't need your father coming after me with a shotgun."

She sprang to her feet. From the corner of his eye, he could see her smoothing down her skirt, brushing away grass and leaves that had attached themselves during their aborted lovemaking. "I'll bet if Flossie were here, you wouldn't have stopped."

He gripped her shoulders. "Don't compare yourself to Flossie," he snapped. Her eyes were a deep midnight blue, the passion only slightly masked by her anger.

Her eyes narrowed. "So, you did notice Flossie."

"Marian..."

She swung out of his hold. "She's been with every man in town, Frank. Do you want to be another in her long list?"

She looked so brave, with her chin in the air, her eyes narrowed. And so young. His anger melted away, swal owed by his chuckle at her defiant manner.

"No, Marian, I don't. But that's exactly why you shouldn't compare yourself to her. She's not fit to be in the same room with you."

Mol ified, she let her chin drop a fraction. "Then why did you stop?"

A wave of tenderness washed over him. "You're too young—"

"I am not!" She took his hand and held it to her breast. "I'm a woman, Frank."

His passion threatened to engulf his common sense again and he shifted away. "Marian, I should never have come out here with you. This was wrong. You are too young and I won't take advantage of your innocence this way."

"I'm not too young, Frank. I wil never feel like this about another man. I know that and nothing you can say will change it."

Her fingers were fumbling with her buttons. He swore, swiftly closing the gapping material himself. Tears glistened on her lashes. He barely stopped himself from bending down and kissing them away. "Marian, you're so beautiful and young. One day you'll meet a man who wil make you forget al about me, except as some long-ago memory from a summer's day."

"Stop it." She pushed his hands away, then planted her hands on her hips. "Stop talking about me as if I were a child! And stop treating me like one." She caressed his cheek. "Frank, believe me. I'm old enough to listen to my own heart. I love you."

His hands circled her wrists. "Marian, you don't even know me," he said with increasing desperation. "I don't have any money and I don't have a job."

"Father promised to help you get one. You could settle down here and—"

His quiet voice interrupted her. "I'm not the kind to stay anywhere for very long, Marian."

She stared at him, eyes unblinking, then twisted out of his grasp. "I see." Without looking at him, she smoothed down an imaginary wrinkle on her skirt. "Wel , before you go, explain something to me. Why did you stop? I was in your arms, willing to be plucked like a ripe pear." He winced at her description but didn't say anything. "Wouldn't your buddies have liked hearing about the minister's daughter and how easily she fel under your spel ?"

"Marian, I wouldn't tel anyone else about us."

Spots of color stood out on her cheeks. "Please, Frank, don't add to my embarrassment by lying."

Miserable and ashamed, he didn't speak right away. He had bragged about his conquests to the other salesmen. On the trains, late at night, they'd laugh about the lonely women they'd met, sharing stories and sometimes even addresses.

He wrenched his thoughts back to the woman in front of him. Tearstains streaked her face but she stil managed to retain her dignity and beauty, standing before him in anger and defiance.

"You never had any intention of settling down, did you? You just let Father talk. Were you planning to catch the next train out of town after you were finished with me?"

"Marian, I never intended any of this to happen."

She stepped away from him, her shoulders hunched protectively. He stretched out one hand and let it fal back to his side without touching her.

How could he tel her about his conflicting emotions? He'd never wanted anything except the lure of the road until last week, when she'd opened the door. But what did he have to offer a wife?

A wife! Her father's probing questions came back to him. Did he want to get married? Could he marry someone like Marian and be faithful?

His own parents toiled long, silent hours side by side at the family store, tied together through habit. He thought of the Coopers. Mrs. Cooper barely spoke two words without looking at her husband for approval.

Reverend Cooper hid behind his Bible.

Head thrown back, he tried to find the answers in the sky above him. A trio of white clouds broke up the monotony of the blue sky, dashing forward in a steady line. A breeze brought Marian's sweet scent toward him.

"Marian..."

She faced him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "You might see me as a fool, but I'm not. Before you say anything, I suggest you leave this town before people find out what you tried to do with the minister's daughter. And on a Sunday, too!"

He knew then what he had to say. He might be the fool but he couldn't walk away from her. No matter where he wandered, he would crave her lips, her body, her very presence. Until he extinguished the fire she'd ignited in him, he would feel no relief.

He caught her hands. "Marian, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "Not for what happened earlier," he added when she twisted to get out of his hold. "For being such an insensitive clod."

She stopped struggling, watching him closely. "What do you mean?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "The last three days have been hel for me, too."

One corner of her mouth lifted and the dimple played in her cheek. "I didn't say that. Father would wash my mouth out if I used language like that."

"Then I'd kiss away the bad taste," he murmured, showing her how thoroughly he would do that.

When he raised his head, the color in her cheeks signaled a return to the passion they'd shared earlier, and his resolve to wait for a more romantic place warred with his rapidly growing desire. His resolve won by a tiny fraction.

He touched his forehead to hers. Eyes half-closed, she smiled at him, a slow, languorous smile that threatened the uneasy peace he had gained. "Don't," he groaned.

Her lips drooped into a frown. "What?"

He trailed one finger down her cheek, wrapping a curl around it. "Miss Cooper, you are enough to try the patience of a saint."