“Frankly, Jack, I don’t really care.” Lifting her suitcase, she carried it inside the house and closed the door. She glanced out the window and was relieved to see Reed drive away.
Jack looked as if he didn’t know what to do—follow Reed and have it out with him or take his chances with her. He took three steps toward his pickup, abruptly changed his mind and stormed back toward the house.
Clare turned on her radio and ignored him. She had run bathwater and put a load of wash in the machine before the pounding on her door ended. She wasn’t going to speak to Jack Kingston. Everything had already been said. As far as she was concerned, the relationship was over. They were finished.
The following morning Clare woke more confused than when she’d gone to sleep. She needed to talk to Reed, before she could put order to her thoughts, but she didn’t even know where he lived. Nor did she have his cell number.
She found it frustrating and irritating to be so ignorant about her own husband. He at least knew how to reach her and could come to her anytime he pleased.
Apparently he felt none of the urgency to set matters straight that she did.
If Clare was frustrated Monday, she was downright angry by Wednesday afternoon when Reed showed up at the library. Clare was busy at the front desk when he arrived. If she hadn’t happened to glance up just then, she wouldn’t have noticed he was there.
Despite her angry disappointment, her heart gladdened at the sight of him, but she took one look at his closed expression and her heart sank. Right away she knew nothing had changed.
It took several moments before she was free to leave the front desk. Reed had walked to the farthest corner of the library, the mystery section. No one else was within hearing distance. With swift, determined steps she followed him.
Reed was waiting for her, and she watched as his gaze moved over her, making her conscious of her appearance. She raised her hand to her head, distressed to note that several strands had escaped her chignon. She’d dressed carefully each morning that week, wondering how long it would take for him to make a showing. If she looked her best, then they might be able to recapture the magic they’d found in Vegas and then lost on their return.
“It took you long enough,” she said with tart reproach, then immediately longed to jerk back the words. She’d been starving for the sight of him for days, needing desperately to talk to him.
With everything in her heart she prayed he’d come to offer her reassurances, to prove to her it hadn’t all been a wild, impossible dream.
“Did Kingston give you any problems?”
“No. What about you?”
A half smile touched his lips. “I’d enjoy it if he tried”
“Oh, Reed, he isn’t worth the effort.”
He didn’t agree or disagree. He kept his distance, she noticed, when she badly wanted to feel his arms around her. What she badly needed was the security of his embrace…of his love.
“Have you reached a decision?”
The abruptness of his question took her by surprise. “How could I?” she flared. “We have a lot to discuss, don’t you think? I’ve felt so thwarted in all this. I don’t even know how to get to your house. Nor do I have you cell number.”
“I don’t own a phone.”
Clare had never known anyone without one, and blinked back her surprise.
“We can’t talk now,” he said, looking past her. Apparently someone had come into the library, and he didn’t want them to be seen together. “I’ll come to your house tonight.”
“What time?”
He hesitated. “Late,” he answered after a moment, “after dark.”
“But why…” she began then realized he’d already turned away from her, “so late?” she finished lamely.
Reed had bided his time, waiting three days, hoping Clare would have accepted the reality of their mistake and be willing to take the necessary measures to put their lives back into order.
He was looking to protect her reputation from gossip. He feared his reputation and people’s prejudices would tear her apart when it became public knowledge that she’d married him. News of Gary and Erin’s wedding had been in the local paper, and Clare’s name had already been linked to Reed’s in the news piece.
He’d heard through the grapevine that Kingston wanted words with him. Apparently Clare’s friend wanted to be sure Reed was going to leave “his woman” alone.
Reed had nothing to say to the other man. Clare had asked him to ignore Jack Kingston, and since there was little he’d be able to do for her, he’d decided to honor her one request. It seemed like a small thing to do for the woman he loved.
When he showed up at the library he’d been fairly certain he could count on them having a few minutes alone together. It wasn’t until they were in the far corner of the building between Agatha Christie and Mary Higgins Clark that he realized his mistake.
She’d stood beneath a window, and the light had filtered down on her petite form. The sun, coming from behind her, had given her a celestial look as though she were a heavenly being. An angel, he imagined, but he couldn’t decide if she would lead him to heaven’s door or deposit him at the gates of hell.
Those few moments with her had knotted his in-sides with a need so strong he knew he had to leave almost immediately. It demanded every ounce of restraint he possessed not to touch her. Before he could train his mind, the vision of her on their wedding night flashed before him. The sweet smile she wore as she raised her arms to him left him weak in ways that were foreign to him.
The brief encounter at the library forced him to acknowledge how vulnerable he was when it came to Clare. Something had to be decided, and quickly. Since she had trouble knowing her mind, he’d make the decision for them both. A quick divorce wasn’t what he wanted, but it was necessary.
He couldn’t be alone with Clare and not want to love her. This evening presented an even greater challenge than he’d originally anticipated. He didn’t know how he was going to keep from touching her. Nor did he know how he was going to avoid making love to her. He had to find a way to convince her to put an end to this farce of a marriage without letting her know how much he cared.
Reed liked to think of himself as strong willed. It was his nature to close himself off from others. It had also been necessary. He’d isolated himself from the good people of Tùllue by choice, preferring to think of himself as an island, needing no one, dependent only on himself.
Now it alarmed his sense of independence to realize how much he needed Clare. Not physically, although his desire for her clawed at him. This one woman, more than any other, was able to reach him in areas of himself he’d assumed were secure. There’d never been anyone in his life he felt as close to as Clare, other than his grandfather.
His relationship to his father’s father had been unique. They’d been a part of each other, sharing blood and heritage. It had been his grandfather who’d guided his life, who’d trained him in the ways of the Skyutes. His grandfather had taught him what it meant to be Indian.
The harsh lessons about life he’d learned from the Anglos. Finding himself uncomfortable in both the Indian and the white man’s world, Reed had forged one of his own. He’d isolated himself, finding solace in his art, fulfillment in his craft. He made certain he was completely self-sufficient.
For the first time, his hard-won serenity was being threatened. By Clare. She made him vulnerable in ways he couldn’t protect. Marrying her had been the biggest mistake of his life. Having shared the physical delights of marriage with her had changed who he was, altered his spirit.
In the back of his mind, Reed had convinced himself that once they made love, this need, this vulnerability she brought out in him would leave.
He was wrong.
Loving her had created an appetite for her that left him physically frustrated and in a permanent bad mood. His life had become a misery and all because of a slip of a librarian who refused to admit she’d made a mistake.
&nb
sp; Clare waited impatiently, checking the front window every few minutes. She’d given up answering her phone, letting the machine pick up the messages, hoping to avoid being trapped in a conversation with Jack.
He’d called several times in the past few days, each time threatening to make it the last time he contacted her. In his last message he claimed he would wait until she came to her senses and phoned him.
Hell would freeze over first. She wanted nothing to do with him again.
Jack could continue to be a problem for her though. It’d be just her luck if he decided to show up the same time Reed did. She checked her watch again, wondering how long her husband was going to keep her waiting. It was already after nine, and she was growing anxious. Perhaps she’d misunderstood him. Perhaps he had meant he was coming the following night. His words were suddenly unclear in her mind.
She was looking out the front window for signs of his car when a knock sounded at her back door. Jack or Reed? Clare didn’t care any longer. She hurried across the house to her kitchen and opened the door without looking.
“I was beginning to think you’d never come,” she chastised Reed, wondering why she found it necessary to lash out at him each time they met. Especially when she longed to hurl herself into his arms and have him reassure her. Her heart fell as she looked at him. A single glance told her he wouldn’t welcome her embrace.
She swallowed back the hurt and let him inside her home,
“Would you like some coffee…and really, it isn’t necessary for you to come to the back door.”
“It is if Kingston’s parked outside.”
“Jack’s watching the house?”
Reed’s eyes hardened as he nodded. “He’s down the street. Don’t marry him, Clare, the man’s not good enough for you.”
“How can I possibly marry Jack when I’m already married to you?” The idea was ludicrous. It seemed she couldn’t make Reed understand it was over between her and Jack any more than she could make Jack accept her decision.
“We’re going to straighten out this marriage business once and for all,” he said pointedly, not wasting any time. He’d barely arrived, and already he seemed eager to leave. “It was a mistake. A big one. There’s only one option left and that’s to divorce.”
“What do you mean? I…I haven’t agreed to a divorce. I…I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. I certainly don’t appreciate you making my mind up for me.”
Reed grinned as if her small outburst had amused him. He pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing his arms over his muscular chest as though he needed to do something to close himself off from her.
He seemed so bitter and hard, and Clare longed to force him to confront his anger toward her and toward life. He needed to put the past behind him. It would have to happen if they were ever to make a success of their marriage.
“I need to know what you’re thinking,” she said, sitting across from him. The coffee was forgotten. He didn’t seem all that eager for a cup, and she didn’t want to be distracted.
“I know an attorney in Seattle. I’ll contact him and have him arrange for a quiet divorce.”
Clare felt the blood run out of her face. It went against the very core of her being to give up on the idea of this marriage without either of them making a minimal effort. “Is…that what you want?”
He was silent for several earth-shattering moments. “It’s for the best.”
“How can you say that?” she flared. “Apparently you aren’t interested in my opinion,” she told him defensively, sarcastically. “You obviously want out of the relationship. It’ll take…what, two or three months before everything is final?” She stood, and with arms cradling her middle, walked over to the stove. “Funny, isn’t it, that the divorce will take longer than the marriage lasted.”
“It’s better this way, Clare.”
“Better for whom?” she asked in a pain-filled whisper.
An eternity passed before Reed answered. “Both of us.”
Clare had no argument. Reed clearly wanted out, and she had no option but to abide by his wishes. It cut deep to let go of the dream, just when she’d believed she’d finally found a man she could love.
“You’ll let me know if you’re pregnant?”
“How?” she asked automatically, remembering how frustrated she’d been with no means of contacting him. “I don’t know where you live.”
He gave her simple directions to his home, which she attempted to write on a yellow tablet she’d taken from her drawer. Because her hands were shaking so badly and because her heart was so unbearably heavy, she made a mess of it. Finally Reed took the pad from her hands and wrote everything out himself.
“I have some books due back at the library next week,” he said, as if he wanted to warn her he’d be seeing her soon.
Clare nodded. There didn’t seem to be anything more for her to say.
Reed opened the drawer and replaced the pen and tablet for her. “If Kingston gives you any problems, let me know.”
She trained her gaze away from him, because it hurt too much to look at him, knowing he was about to walk out of her life and take all her dreams with him.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way.”
“Right,” she agreed. From somewhere deep inside she found the strength to smile. “I’ll…be in touch.”
He stood in front of the back door, ready to leave. Clare felt as though the entire state of Washington was bottled up inside her throat. Breathing had become almost impossible. Never had she felt more heartsick or more confused.
She couldn’t look at him, certain he’d read the painful longing in her eyes. Pride demanded that she pretend it was as easy for her to let him go as it was for him to walk away from her. But standing there and saying nothing was the most difficult thing she’d ever done in her life.
Her hands folded around the back of her kitchen chair, her nails bending with the strength of her grip.
He opened the door, and suddenly her pride was forgotten. “Reed.” She heard the aching inflection of his name in her own voice. It had demanded every ounce of courage she possessed to stop him.
He froze, his back to her. Clare trembled in confusion, raised her hand, then grateful he couldn’t see the small entreaty, dropped it lifelessly to her side.
“Thank you for the most beautiful night of my life,” she whispered through the pain she couldn’t disguise.
Something broke in Reed. It was almost visible. His shoulders drooped, and he inhaled a deep breath and dropped his hand from the doorknob.
Within seconds she was locked in his arms; his mouth, hungry and hard, covered hers. The force of his kiss backed her against the wall and he held her there, urgently kissing her until a soft moan of pleasure eased from low in her throat.
“No more!” He groaned the words, lifting his head from hers. His eyes were squeezed shut as if he dared not look down on her.
“No,” she cried in protest, seeking his mouth with her own. She caught his upper lip between her teeth and teased his mouth. A surge of power shot through her when Reed moaned and lowered his mouth to hers for a series of long, frenzied kisses.
Once more he jerked his head up. “This has got to stop. Right now.”
“No.” Her hands were in his hair, loosening his braids. Once they were free she locked her arms around his neck and angled her mouth over his to gently nibble at his lips.
He trembled, and she felt a surge of power at his need. “Make love to me,” she whispered between slow, drawn-out kisses.|
His hands stilled. Before she realized what was happening, a shudder went though him and he gently closed his fingers around her wrists and dragged them from his neck. “Our marriage isn’t going to work,” he said, his dark eyes glaring down on her own. “Pretending it will isn’t going to change reality.”|
Without giving her time to react, he broke away from her and was gone, slipping silently out the door.|
The doorbell chimed and, knowing it was J
ack, Clare ignored the summons. Shaken, she lowered herself into a chair, her legs no longer capable of supporting her. She buried her face in her hands and drew in several head-clearing breaths.|
All wasn’t lost, she decided, with the sound of the doorbell buzzing in her ear. She experienced the first ray of hope since the morning after her wedding. She wasn’t sure she could trust her instincts, but deep in her heart, she couldn’t believe Reed wanted this divorce any more than she did.
“We don’t do this often enough,” Ellie Gilroy said as she lowered her menu early Saturday afternoon. “I hardly see you anymore,” her mother complained.
Clare smoothed the paper napkin across her lap. “I was glad you called, Mom. There was something I wanted to discuss with you.”
“I imagine it has something to do with Jack.”
Although still young, in her early sixties, Clare’s mother looked older. The past few years had been difficult for her parents, Clare realized. Her father had retired, and the two were adjusting to each other’s full-time company. Ellie had been a housewife all these years and Clare summed up the problem as one of territory. Her father had invaded the space her mother had always felt was her own.
“I’ve broken off the engagement with Jack,” Clare announced.
“Oh, dear,” Ellie said on the end of a sigh. “I was afraid it was something like that. Jack called and talked to your father the other night. When I asked Leonard what Jack had to say, your father told me it was none of my business. You’re not seeing a Native American by any chance, are you?”
“A Native American,” Clare repeated, her heart in a panic. She would have willingly told her mother she’d married Reed Tonasket, but she couldn’t see mentioning her marriage to her family seeing that Reed was planning to divorce her.
“Your father asked me if you knew Reed Tonasket.”
“Oh, you mean Reed,” she said, knowing she was a terrible liar. She’d never done well with pretense. “He was the best man at Gary and Erin’s wedding.”