One Night With You (12 page)

“I left around four thirty because this house begins to stir at about five. How do you feel this morning?”

“Lonely. I wanted to wake up in your arms.”

“So did I, but I guess that will have to wait. Get up, sweetheart. It's the best time for riding. The horses are happiest when all is quiet around them. Wait a minute, I have to answer the door.” After a minute, he said, “Hi. I'm back. That was Philip. He always made lousy coffee, but he brought a pot of it, two mugs, milk, sugar and two spoons. I'll be right over.”

“Wait a second. How'd he know you were over there and not in here with me?”

“Simple. He didn't dare knock on your door, and if I wasn't in my room, he'd have taken the coffee back to the kitchen, and we would never have known that he brought it. Philip is the epitome of discretion.”

“Give me ten minutes.”

She brushed her teeth, took a fast sponge bath, straightened the bed, put on her robe and opened the door. “Sorry. I didn't have time to get dressed. I know you would have waited, but I wanted the coffee.”

He put the tray on the table beside the chaise longue, put his arms around her and adored her with his lips. “No heavy stuff this morning, sweetheart, my willpower is practically nonexistent.” He poured two cups of coffee.

She sipped with great care, fearing that she might burn her lips. “It's not bad at all.”

“Doris must have taken Philip in hand. It always tasted like instant before.”

“Maybe it
was
instant. Want some cheese and crackers?” He accepted the food that she placed on a napkin. “Is there any reason why we can't spend a weekend at a resort, or some place private where we can swim or just be together?” she asked him. “If there is, you don't have to explain it. Just tell me it would be best if we did it later…or never, if that's how you feel.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, topped off his coffee and put the pot back on the table. “Thank you for being so understanding. It's something I won't forget. My priority right now is my case against Brown and Worley, but my salary is good, and I have a private contract with Marcus Hickson, so I'm not pinched for money. Figure out which weekend is good for you. What do you think of Cape May?”

“I haven't been there, but I'll be happy with whatever you choose. It doesn't have to be luxurious like…like this.” She waved her hand to indicate all around them. “I just want us to be together.”

He put his cup down, bent over and kissed her. “I trust that you mean what you say, sweetheart, but I've been taught by a master. Please start with me the way you know you can continue. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“I do understand, and that's what I'm trying to get across to you. I don't want you to overstretch yourself to do what you think will please me or make me comfortable. I want you to present yourself as you are, because that's the only way you'll know who I really am.”

He looked at her for a long time, as if he wanted to see inside her. Then he said, “I'd better go. You wouldn't believe how tantalizing you are in that yellow robe. Put on something suitable for horseback riding. I'll be in the kitchen with Doris.” He kissed her on the mouth, put the coffee service on the tray and left.

She showered quickly and dressed in gray riding breeches, a red-and-gray paisley shirt, a gray tie and black boots. She didn't have a riding hat and didn't want one. She got on a horse twice a year, and she wouldn't have had the boots and breeches if her sister hadn't given them to her. Besides, they were out in the country, and she'd bet that only jeans-clad behinds had warmed the backs of those horses.

She walked into the kitchen to find Doris making biscuits while Reid laid strips of bacon and what looked like two pounds of rope sausage on the grill. “Good morning,” she said, not calling the name of either.

“Good morning,” the two of them said in unison.

“How may I help, Doris?”

“Here's a knife. You can hull those strawberries, if you don't mind. I already washed them.”

“I don't mind one bit. By the way, how many people are going to eat breakfast?”

“You, Reid, Philip, Max, Arnold and me. Six.”

“They why are we cooking all this sausage?”

“Well, Max, Arnold, Reid and Philip will eat most of it plus a few strips of bacon. That, scrambled eggs, grits, these biscuits, juice and strawberries isn't a really big breakfast.”

Kendra rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “If you say so. I guess working men eat a lot.”

“Yes,” Doris said, “and I just remembered that Reid is sitting down these days. Reid, you have to go light on this stuff now. You don't want to ruin your fabulous physique. A big bay window will turn a woman off in a minute.” She released a throaty laugh. “Am I right, Kendra?”

Kendra sampled a strawberry. “Probably. It'll take a lot more than a bay window to turn me off Reid.”

“Well, hallelujah!” Doris said. “Looks like you hit the jackpot, Reid.”

He walked over to her and, with his hands clasped behind him, kissed her mouth. She flicked her tongue across his lips, winked at him and returned to the business of hulling berries.

“I'll get you for that,” he told her.

“Naah. Self-discipline is good for a man.” She whirled around to see Philip straddle a chair and put a coffee cup to his mouth. “Good morning, Kendra. I hope you enjoyed the coffee. I don't make the best brew, but as Reid will confirm, I'm improving. You two are going riding?”

“Yeah,” Reid said. “I thought I'd saddle Bessie Rae for Kendra. I always rode Casey Jones. How's he these days?”

“He'll probably jump all over you. I never knew a horse to sulk the way he did right after you left. He wouldn't cooperate with a soul.”

After breakfast, as Kendra walked with Reid to the stables, the men with whom he had worked stopped them, greeting them warmly. Reid kept a firm grip on her hand, and she didn't have to be told that he enjoyed showing his friends what he and she meant to each other. At the barn, Max caught up with them.

“I expect you remember how you used to do it, Reid,” he said. “They've been fed. It's a great morning for riding, so you two have a good time. Here's a walkie-talkie in case you need me.”

Reid thanked him, brought Bessie Rae to her and waited until she mounted the mare. “That was as smooth as it gets,” he said. “Wait here while I get my mount.”

The stallion neighed and swished his tail when he saw Reid. “Casey, boy. You remember me,” Reid said, patting the big bay stallion. He saddled the horse, mounted him and reached down and hugged his neck.

“Don't tighten the reins, sweetheart,” he said to Kendra. “Keep 'em slack. These horses love to gallop, and if Bessie Rae takes off, there's no holding Casey Jones back. He's as competitive as some men.”

They walked the horses toward a brook. She'd never seen such a beautiful brook winding among sleepy willows and pines and with wildflowers of many colors decorating its banks. The sun filtered through the pine trees, and hundreds of birds chirped like a great choir.

“Reid, this is so idyllic. I could stay here forever.”

He brought his horse to a halt. “With me?”

“Ask me that question again a week from now. I'm still drunk on you.”

His gaze sliced through her. “You pick the damnedest times to say things like that. I'm so full of you right now that I can hardly think straight.”

“Consider yourself kissed,” she said, and patted Bessie Rae on the rump and broke the tension of the moment. She was becoming besotted with him, and because she'd just decided that she wanted him for all time, she knew she'd better keep her head. She remembered her father's words to her sister and her. “If you give a man all he wants, pretty soon he won't want anything.”

There'd been a miscue somewhere,
Reid decided as they headed back to the house. He wouldn't say she'd closed up, but she seemed less—he couldn't think of any other words—open to him.

“Want to see the dormitory I designed for the men who work on the estates?” he asked her when they approached it. She said she did, and a few minutes later he brought Casey Jones to a halt in front of the redbrick building.

“This is it? It looks like a two-story private house, albeit a very big one,” she said.

“Each room has a bathroom and a balcony,” he explained, “and the downstairs consists of a kitchen, dining room, lounge and recreation room with a bathroom on each end. I was pretty proud that I could do this for Philip. It made me happy to be able to do something for him.

“Want to see the lounge?” It seemed like years since he'd called that place home. He hadn't spent much time in the public rooms, for as soon as Philip had put three laptop computers at their disposal, he'd spent his spare time searching for information on Brown and Worley, and in the three months before he left the estates he'd been looking for a job whenever he wasn't working, eating or sleeping.

“This resembles a very nice hotel lobby,” she said of the lounge.

“Philip spent a lot of money furnishing this place, and the men appreciate it. There's nothing they wouldn't do for him.

“We'd better go. Lunch is promptly at twelve, and nobody here goes to a meal late.” He took her hand, and to his surprise he voiced a thought that had sprinted through his mind. “I hope this isn't the last time I'm as happy as I am today.”

“What brought that on?” she asked him.

“I don't know. It isn't a thought that's spent much time on my mind.”

“If you aren't tired,” Philip told them at lunch, “we can drive over to Oxford and take a spin on my boat. Dad and I went over last weekend and got her seaworthy. Maybe Dad will come with us. Max can't stand that much water, and Doris wouldn't think of going off and leaving Max on a Saturday afternoon.”

“I love living near the water,” Kendra said later as Philip headed the cruiser out on the bay. She glanced at Reid, read his sultry eyes and quickly lowered her gaze.

“So do I,” he said, “and when I build my own house again, I hope it will overlook a lake, a big river or even the ocean. Water gives such peace.”

“Yes,” Arnold said. “In the early spring, I go down by the brook right after sunrise. The water rushes along, but everything else is still and quiet, except the birds. It is so peaceful.” He turned to Kendra. “Did Reid take you there this morning?”

“Yes, he did. It was heavenly.”

“This is Reid's home,” Philip said to Kendra, “and no matter where he lives, this will be home for him, so please encourage him to come home often.”

“I will, Philip.” She glanced at Reid and caught him gazing intently at her, so she smiled. “But I can only encourage him. The first thing I learned about Reid was that he's a loner—an independent, self-willed creature.”

“Don't think I didn't learn it, too,” Philip said. “But I also learned that he's got a big heart.”

She walked over to Reid and locked her fingers through his. “What is it?” he asked her.

“Nothing. I was too far away from you.” She couldn't bring herself to tell him that she needed to touch him.

He didn't know whether he did it because he wanted Philip and Arnold to know that she was truly his or whether it was because of his need of her. He only knew that when he looked down at her inviting mouth, nothing could have stopped him from kissing her. He was in deep, headed down a one-way street. Did he want to go all the way with her? Had being with her, getting to know her and loving her restored his faith in marriage? He didn't believe that was possible, yet all the signs were there before him. And he loved her.

O
n Sunday night, Kendra crawled into her own bed nursing her aching limbs and trying to come to terms with the feeling that she'd been separated from Reid for years. A total of four hours on the back of a horse—albeit a gentle one—had left her barely able to walk. She didn't mind that nearly as much as she hated having Reid so far from her. He'd telephoned her twice since they got back to Queenstown around eight that night, but his calls had not abated her loneliness.

“I will not telephone him,” she told herself. “I will not be a slave to my emotions.” But, man, the way he moved inside her like a borer tunneling for air. And the way he wiggled his hips! At the memory of it, she stretched out in the bed and threw her arms wide. If only she could close them around him!

After a night of fitful sleep, she got up early and was leaving home on the way to work when she heard the drums, horns, bugles and tom-toms coming toward her. She didn't want to be there when the pickets arrived, but she didn't want to run away, either. She saw Reid sprinting across the street. As he got closer to her, he beckoned. She ran to him.

“Hurry!” he yelled. “The radio announcer said they're planning some rough stuff this morning.” He grabbed her briefcase with one hand, took her left hand and dashed with her into the building in which he lived.

He closed the door and locked her in his arms. “I'm so glad I caught you,” he said. “I just heard a radio announcer say that the pickets planned to damage Brown and Worley's developments, but he didn't say which one. It could be the one they're developing over near the park.”

“This is frightening,” she said just as he dragged her from the window so roughly, horrifying her, that she felt a pain in her right shoulder. He slapped his hands over her ears, but she heard the explosion.

“What was that?” she asked him.

“A hand grenade. I heard it singing just before it exploded. I hadn't heard that sound since I left Afghanistan, and I'd hoped never to hear it again.”

“I didn't know you were in Afghanistan. Do you think it blew up something? What about my house?”

“Two years. A busted collarbone got me out of the army and into university. I think that explosion was a bit farther down the street. I hope I didn't hurt you a minute ago, but I had to get you away from the window. How do you feel?”

“A little displaced. This isn't the way I expected my day to start.”

“Stay here a minute,” he said and left the building.

She didn't frighten easily, but she felt as if her heart was in her mouth as she waited for him to come back. Relief, such as she had rarely felt, spread through her when he opened the door.

“There's one policeman out there for every picket, or at least it looks that way. I know what you're going to say, so don't bother to say it. I'm walking with you to the courthouse this morning, and that's that. Kiss me now, unless you want me to kiss you when I leave you at the courthouse.”

“You're too bossy, but I don't have time right now to put you in your place.”

She didn't sound convincing, not even to herself, and the smile of happiness on his face let her know that he didn't take her words seriously. He locked her in his arms and kissed her nose. “Something tells me that I'll never get enough of you,” he said, and then his demeanor changed from sweet and playful to serious and, she thought, to a little sad. “Don't let what's happening across the street and my problems with Brown and Worley come between us.”

He lowered his head, and his mouth came down on hers hard and possessively. “Let's go.”

“One of the most comforting things about my relationship with you, Reid, is that my being a judge doesn't bother you. You're not threatened by it.”

“Why should I be? You're beautiful, sweet and feminine, and I like the fact that you're so intelligent, and that we can discuss all kinds of things, enjoy all kinds of things together. I'm proud of you, and knowing that you want me is a helluva shot to my ego.”

“Thanks for the nice compliment. I'm proud of you, too. You're not beautiful, but—”

He interrupted her. “I'm not? You wound me.”

“Stop right there,” she said. “We're not getting into the way you look, because I'm sure that at least a thousand women have told you.”

“Have not.”

“Have so.”

They walked along the side of Albemarle Heights on which Reid lived, so they didn't encounter any of the pickets. “I'll call you tonight. Consider yourself kissed,” he said. Reid didn't cross the street with her but watched until she entered the courthouse door.

She had to find a way to get out of that house. She didn't have enough equity in it to avoid losing money if she sold it, so she could do nothing at the moment. She walked into her chambers, saw that the appliances she'd purchased had arrived and that Carl had already installed them.

“Coffee's ready, ma'am, and it sure does taste better than what we've been getting.”

“Thanks, Carl. Did you know that the pickets are out this morning? Somebody threw a hand grenade.”

“I expect that was one of those rabble rousers that sometimes follow the pickets. Did it damage anything?”

“I only know it didn't damage my house. I got out of the area as fast as possible.”

“The pickets aren't going to hurt you in any way, Judge Rutherford. I've told the tribe how you feel about the whole mess, and they're aware of what you're trying to do for our young people. By the way, how's the civics class?”

“I'm pleased with it, Carl. I'm thinking of having a civics teacher from Edenton grade the exams and the papers, and I'm going to give a second prize of five hundred dollars.”

“It was a good move, ma'am.”

She wasn't sure that she should ask the question, but she wanted the answer. “Are any of your ancestors buried on that hill, Carl?”

He looked into the distance and then bowed his head. “Yes, ma'am. Both of my parents, my grandparents and my whole family.”

Her lower lip dropped, and her eyes widened. “I'm so terribly sorry.”

“It's all right, ma'am,” he said, and seemed to stand taller than his six feet two inches with his shoulders square and straight and his chin defiant. “Those builders will get what they deserve, so you needn't worry.”

She pushed aside the notes she had intended to study before hearing her first case. “Why do you say that?”

“My people don't bother the innocent, but we always see the score settled with our enemy one way or the other. We know that you are not our enemy. May I get something else for you, ma'am?”

“No. Thank you, Carl. You've given me a feeling of security, and I appreciate it.”

He turned and left.

She donned her robe and took her seat in the court-room.
I hope I don't have to slap this attorney's wrist again,
she said to herself when the defense attorney arrived with his client.
Doesn't he know that his behavior sets the jury against his client?
The trial ended with a verdict of guilty, and she couldn't help wondering how many prisoners were incarcerated only because they'd had an incompetent lawyer.

Concentration didn't come easily, because, in spite of the assurance Carl gave her, she couldn't help being concerned about her house. “Happiness is seeing your house still standing,” she said to herself when she got home that afternoon.

“So where was that explosion we heard this morning?” she asked Reid when he called her.

“An uprooted tree about four doors south of you,” he said. “The guy's in jail. He doesn't even live in Queenstown, just went along to foment trouble.

“I've done some research. The possibilities are Cape May, Miami Beach, Bermuda, Ocean City and Fort Lauderdale. Think about all possible ramifications, and let me know which you prefer. If we waited until July Fourth, we'd have an extra day, but that would require early planning.”

“Let's go to Cape May. That's what you suggested at first, and I think it's what you'd prefer. I mean it when I say I only want us to be someplace where we can behave naturally with each other.”

“All right. Cape May on the July Fourth weekend. Check carefully, and let me know if that suits you.”

“I will. I've already begun to anticipate it.”

“Wait a minute. That's the weather guy on my radio. He said we're in for a terrible storm, and that a storm watch will be in effect from six this evening until three o'clock tomorrow morning. Close and lock your windows, roll up your awnings and put your car in your garage. Maybe I'd better come over there and roll up those awnings.”

“Thanks, but they go up and down with the push of a button. I'll run out right now and put the car in the garage. Oh, dear. What about my civics class?”

“Not to worry. It's getting dark outside. They'll check the weather forecast. I wish I could be over there with you. Nothing's more exciting than a rousing storm.”

“Maybe it'll storm while we're in Cape May,” she said, feeling a bit wicked. “I'd better put my car away. I'll talk with you later.”

She wasn't fond of any level of storm, especially not if lightning was a part of it. She put her car away, closed and locked her windows and doors and secured the awnings. The problem was that the dark clouds were so eerie as to be breathtakingly beautiful, and she wanted to sit out on her deck and enjoy the scenery. However, a loud clap of thunder quickly disabused her of that notion.

What a pity she couldn't be with Reid at a time when she felt the need to be close to him. Rain pelted her windows until she thought the panes would shatter, and then the winds began. She curled up in a chair thinking that she would read in order to take her mind off the storm, but the lights flickered and died away. Why hadn't she thought to gather some candles and matches? She fumbled her way toward the closet in the foyer in search of a flashlight, stumbled and skinned her knee.

At the sound of the doorbell, she pulled herself up, certain that only Reid would be at her door in such weather. “I didn't know whether you had any candles,” he said when she opened the door.

“Oh, Reid, you're soaking wet. Come in the kitchen and let me see if I can get you dry.”

“I don't mind being wet,” he said. “I want to be sure you have some light.” He turned on a flashlight and walked with her to the kitchen.

She found her flashlight, ran down to the cellar, opened a trunk and got a blanket. “Let me wrap this around you. What a chance you took,” she said as the thunder cracked. “You could have been hit by lightning. Take off your shirt. It'll dry in front of the gas oven.”

He looked at her with a devil-may-care expression, daring her. “What about my pants?”

She winked at him and started out of the kitchen. “Behave yourself. You can take those off, too, but you'll have to stay in here until they dry.”

“You're a very mean woman. I want to be with you,” he said.

“I'm not looking at you,” she said over her shoulder, “so get that little-boy look off your face.”

“Maybe I'd better change tactics. I'm exhausted. Do you mind if I lie down?”

Laughter spilled out of her in spite of her effort to contain it. “Honey, I didn't dream you could be such a baby,” she said. “Hmmm. That oven is heating up this kitchen.”

He gazed at her. “You think it's the oven, do you? Well, come here.”

Ignoring his remark, she took two of the candles he'd brought, put them in bud vases and lit them. “Let's see, I have some frozen quiches, frozen spinach and the makings of a salad. Will that fill you up?”

“Depends on the size of the quiche.”

She put three individual quiches in the oven, sautéed the spinach and put dressing on the mesclun salad. “I forgot I have some good German ham. Want some?”

“I'll take anything you give me.”

“Here,” she said, handing him a bottle of pinot grigio wine. “Open this, please.”

“My pleasure. I can't think of anything you're likely to ask me to do that I wouldn't do for you. And you're supposed to believe that.”

“I do, so I'm going to be careful about what I ask you to do.” Suddenly, she laughed.

“What's funny?”

“Suppose you were mad as the devil at me—and it can happen—and I told you I wanted you to make love with me? What would you do?”

He looked at her and grinned. “You think that's farfetched? Well, it's not. What would I do? I'd do my damnedest to make you climb the wall.”

She regarded him with a withering look, but thanks to her experience with him, she wasn't sure of her ground, so she didn't voice the quip that came to mind. Clap after clap of thunder roared above them, and a flash of lightning revealed the storm in his eyes.

“It's good, Kendra, when the storm on the inside of you is just as fierce as the one that's roaring above you and all around you.” He let the blanket fall to the floor. “Come here and let me love you.”