Spring Rain (42 page)

Leigh broke off and made a choked sound. She was horrified to realize that she wasn’t talking about Julia anymore. She was talking about herself. It was her own heart she was laying bare, her own soul-deep yearnings she was revealing. She spun away and hurried toward the beach, mortified.

“Leigh!” Clay came after her. “Wait.”

She ignored him, running faster. She had to get away before she said any more, before he realized how truly pathetic and needy she was, needy for him.

She burst out of the dunes and onto the beach just as he grabbed her wrist. She tried to wrench free but he held her fast.

“Let go of me,” she begged, her voice low and unsteady.

“No.” He pulled her toward him, reeling her in like some weak, insignificant fish. Did fish have enough brainpower to despair when they were caught? She hoped not. It hurt too much.

“Look at me, Leigh.”

She refused, giving him her back.

He turned her toward him and wrapped his arms about her, pulling her against him. “Don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you sad.” His voice was thick with emotion.

She stood woodenly in his embrace. “I’m not crying.”

He put his hand under her chin and forced her face up to his. She squeezed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to look at his beautiful face. Tears slid from beneath her lids and rolled to the corners of her mouth. She flicked her tongue out to catch them.

“Oh, Leigh.” He wiped at the tears. She flinched at his gentle touch and tried to jerk free. He wouldn’t let her.

“That was your heart laid bare, wasn’t it?” His voice was soft and tender.

“Of course not.” Her fingers became busy fiddling with his shirt placket and buttons, smoothing the already smooth fabric, adjusting his collar. “I was talking about your mother.”

He nodded. “Okay. If you say so.”

“I do.” She sniffed, then burst out, “I was doing so well! Then you showed up, and it got so complicated and confusing.”

“How did it get confusing?”

“The past. The present. Oh, just everything.”

“I thought you said you’d forgiven me.”

“I did. I do. I don’t know!”

“If you truly forgave me, then you can’t hold all those years against me. They’re gone forever, sent away to be remembered no more.” His voice was the epitome of sanity and reason, his doctrine irrefutable.

Her eyes snapped up, and she glared at him. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do. You haven’t the right. I can hold those years against you if I want.”

She saw an answering flare in his eyes. “So I’m not allowed to be upset about Mom, but you’re allowed to be upset about me forever?”

She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. He’d skewered her through the heart. She simply stared stonily at his middle button while tears continued to run down her cheeks. All she wanted was to put her head on his shoulder. All she wanted was to love him and have him love her for real and forever. All she wanted was what Julia and David had apparently found.

For just a moment a shaft of jealously shot through her. Julia had found two wonderful men to love her, and Leigh couldn’t even trust the one she wanted, the one who was thoughtful enough to fix up her derelict house, the one whose arms felt so right, the one who had left her to struggle alone for eleven long years. It wasn’t fair!

Before these thoughts were even fully formed, shame washed over her in great waves.

Oh, God, I’m such a terrible person! Forgive me.

“Leigh, say something. Talk to me. I want to help, but you’ve got to tell me what’s wrong.”

He was back to being nice! She was dying here, and he was hastening her demise with his niceness. She rested her forehead on his chest, letting her shoulders slump.

Oh, God, I’m so scared!

“Talk to me, woman,” Clay said softly, one hand running up and down her back, so soothing, so sweet.

She sniffed and raised her face to his. “Now just see what you’ve done.”

He blinked his bewilderment.

She gasped for breath. “You made me cry, and my nose is all stopped up, and I can’t breathe.”

“And that’s my fault?”

“Well, it certainly isn’t mine.”

He began to smile.

“And just what’s so funny?”

“You.” And he leaned over and kissed her.

She gasped again from surprise, pleasure, and lack of oxygen.

He kissed her a second time.

Without conscious thought she leaned into him like she always did when he kissed her. He was a danger to the environment, she thought distractedly, the way he caused instant meltdown.

She pushed against him when she was out of breath. He released her immediately and took a step back. “It’s all right, Leigh. It was only a kiss.”

Only a kiss? “I couldn’t breathe,” she explained. Only a kiss? It was her life flashing in front of her, like she was drowning, going down for the third time—which metaphorically speaking she probably was.

He searched through his pockets and pulled out a square of material that he passed to her. She blew her nose. Such a sweet ladylike sound. He ran a knuckle across her cheek, and she felt her eyes slide shut. She lowered her head so he couldn’t see. She turned to go home.

“Walk with me, Leigh,” he asked, catching her arm. “Please. We have so much more to talk about.”

She knew the truth of what he said. She’d been so cautious around him for days, careful to keep any conversation surface, and the issues that throbbed in the air between them hadn’t lessened in the interim. If anything, they’d intensified.

In silence she turned and walked across the sand to the water-line. He followed. They turned and began walking toward the bay. Somehow he had gotten hold of her hand again, his grip sure, steady, delightful.

“This week has been the most bewildering week of my life,” he finally said. “My conflicting feelings about Ted, my confusion over Mom and David, my discovering who Bill is.” He stopped and looked at her. “But you have been the cause of more emotional chaos than I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

She smiled sadly as she studied the horizon. There was a perverse satisfaction in knowing that this week had been as hard for
him as it had for her. It served him right. She sighed. It served her right.

“Love, please look at me.” There was desperation in his voice.

Her eyes flew to his. He had called her
love
, and he didn’t even seem to realize he’d said it. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

“If I felt terrible when I thought all I did was steal your virginity, imagine how I feel now?” He brought a hand up and twirled one of her curls around his finger. He studied the curl intently for a minute. Then his eyes fixed on hers. “How can I ask you to trust me, to love me after what I did to you?”

He wanted her to love him, to trust him? She knew she loved him, and she wanted desperately to trust him. “Clay, you scare me.”

He stared in appalled disbelief.

“Not that I think that you’d ever willfully hurt me,” she hastened to say. “Never. I know that. But I gave you my heart once, and you rejected it. No, you didn’t even bother to reject it. You ignored it.”

He began to speak, but she put a hand on his mouth. “I forgive you for that. I do. I can say that before God and mean it. Having you around has confused me in many ways, but I know I’ve given up any desire to get even or to make you suffer. We were young. We were stupid. We were wrong. But it’s over, long over. I’ve gone on. You’ve gone on.” She searched his face. “But I don’t think I could stand that pain again, which is why you scare me, especially since my love is so much deeper now than it ever was then.”

His eyes brightened, and he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you saying you love me?”

With a sinking heart she realized she had revealed much more than she had ever intended. And she understood in that moment that it wasn’t Clay she feared after all. It was herself: her emotions, her ability to deal with loss, even her confidence that God was big enough to get her through the coming destruction of all her dreams.

God, forgive me! I believe; help my unbelief!

She wrenched herself free from Clay’s hold and turned to run. Tears filled her eyes and blinded her. She took two steps and stumbled right into one of Clooney’s spade holes. She felt her ankle give and went down with a muffled scream.

C
LAY’S HEART TUMBLED
right along with Leigh. He fell to his knees beside her. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

Her face was too pale, and she held her ankle. “Just twisted it, I think.”

“You’d better not put any weight on it until you get it checked. I’ll carry you home.” He reached for her.

She waved him away. “I’m not hurt that badly. I’m sure I can walk. Just help me get up.”

“Why don’t I call David, and he can check you before you move? I’m sure he’s still up at the house.”

“Don’t you dare embarrass me like that!” She held out her hands. “Come on. Pull.”

Foolish, strong-minded woman.
Unhappy, he grasped both her wrists and pulled. She tried to rise but gasped in pain as she put weight on her foot. She sank back onto the sand.

“Let me see.” He pushed her hands aside and ran his fingers lightly over the injured area. He couldn’t feel anything that indicated a break, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

“It just crunched,” she said. “I heard it. It didn’t break.”

Crunch, eh? Not a good sign. “That’ll teach you to try and run away from me,” he said and felt pleased when she smiled slightly at his poor attempt at humor.

“I can’t have a break. It’s too cumbersome at school.”

Together they stared at the ankle, already swelling.

“Stupid spade holes of Clooney’s.” Clay needed some way to release the fear he’d felt when she went down and the distress that she was hurt. The spade holes were a safe target. “I’ve got to have a talk with him.”

“Like it’s his fault I didn’t look where I was going.”

Knowing full well whose fault that was, Clay rose quickly in an effort to distract her. “Come on. Let’s get you up to the house and get some ice on that.”

Suddenly a short, slight man was on his knees beside them. Clay blinked. Where had he materialized from? He wore glasses and had a bald spot he was having trouble keeping covered with the hair he combed from ear to ear, largely because the wind was having a wonderful time scattering the long strands in spite of the gallons of hair spray he’d undoubtedly used.

“Is she all right?” he asked Clay. He turned a concerned face to Leigh. “Are you all right? I saw you fall, and then I saw you couldn’t get up. I was afraid you were hurt bad.”

Leigh smiled at the man. “I’m fine. I think it’s only a sprain.”

The man looked relieved.

“I just live up there.” She pointed to the house. “And Clay will get me home.”

The man looked at Clay and nodded. “He looks strong enough to do the job.”

Clay took one of Leigh’s arms, and the man took the other. They lifted her to her feet, careful not to bump the injured foot. She stood with her weight on the uninjured leg, wobbling slightly.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” the man asked.

Leigh nodded. “Thanks for your concern. It was very nice of you to care.”

The man flushed bright red.

“I am going to carry you home,” Clay announced, giving Leigh a stern look. “And no sass, lady.”

“No sass,” she agreed.

He kissed her cheek, then lifted her with one arm around her back and the other beneath her knees. She rested her head against him, and Clay was touched by the trust inherent in that move.
Maybe she had more faith in him than she realized.
Oh, Lord, please let that be so.
He strode toward the path through the dunes.

“Hope you feel better soon,” the man called after them.

Leigh waved acknowledgment and laid her head back on Clay’s chest.

“Does it hurt much?” he asked as he rested his cheek against her hair.

“Feels sort of good,” she said dreamily. Then she stiffened as she heard herself. “I mean it throbs some, but I’ll live.”

He smiled to himself and kissed the top of her head. “You’d better. We’re not finished with our talking yet.”

She sighed. “I was afraid of that.” She cuddled closer, wrapping an arm about his waist. “I should have known. You haven’t won yet.” Her voice was laden with sorrow.

“What?” He stopped midstride and stared down at her. Surely she didn’t think he was the kind of man who was only happy when he had total control. Well, he was, sort of, but he’d been working on it. And he certainly knew better than to expect to dominate her. If there was one thing he’d learned since his return, it was that Leigh had a mind of her own.

She grinned up at him, pointing her index finger like a smoking gun. “Gotcha.”

He didn’t know about Leigh, but he was smiling broadly when they reached the backyard. If she could tease him that blatantly, things between them were definitely looking up, to say nothing of the fact that her ankle couldn’t be hurting too badly.

“Just what do you think you’re doing with her?” an ice-cold voice demanded.

Clay felt Leigh’s jolt of surprise as he spun toward the sound.

Bill stood just outside the door to the apartment, his hands in fists on his hips, his jaw clenched. “I think you’d better put her down. Now.”

Clay looked at the fierce emotion on Bill’s face and slowly lowered Leigh to the ground. He kept his arm about her waist to help support her. She leaned heavily against him, an arm clutching him for balance. She held her injured foot off the ground.

“Get away from her,” Bill ordered. “Stand over there.” He pointed halfway across the yard.

Clay felt Leigh tighten her grip on him. He didn’t move.

“I said get away from her.” Bill took a step toward them, his angry eyes fixed on Clay.

Clay looked at his son with a combination of pride and amusement, though he was careful not to let the amusement show. The lion cub protecting his pack.

“Don’t worry, Bill.” His voice serious and respectful. “She’s not hurt badly.”

Bill looked his mother up and down. “She doesn’t look hurt at all to me.”