Across the River of Yesterday (3 page)

BOOK: Across the River of Yesterday
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She watched Gideon leave the kitchen, the big
dog skittering unevenly at his heels. “He’s so kind,” she said huskily. “Have you known him long?”

“A few years. We met in Tucson and took to each other right away. We’ve been together ever since.” He sat down and nodded to the glass in her hand. “You’d better finish that. He won’t let you go to sleep until you drink it down.”

She laughed uncertainly. “You have to be joking. Gideon wouldn’t force me to drink something I didn’t want.”

“He won’t ever force you, but you’ll find yourself doing what he wants anyway.” He shrugged. “It’s easier just to do what he tells you in the beginning.”

She took another swallow of orange juice. “I think you’re mistaken. He’s too gentle to—”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t gentle,” Ross interrupted briskly. “He’s one hell of a human being and the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m just saying there’s another aspect to his character that’s equally strong.”

She frowned. “And what is that?”

“When he makes up his mind, he’s completely relentless. He never stops. Not ever. He might feel compassion, but it doesn’t sway him. He never quits until he has what he wants.”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“Yes,” Ross said flatly. “It’s something you should know, because I don’t think Gideon has quite made up his mind about you yet. He’s chewing it over and trying to come to a conclusion. Once he does, there’s no way out. Gideon will be as much a prisoner of his determination as you, and probably more vulnerable. Something has knocked you
for a loop and I’m sorry, but my first loyalty is to Gideon.”

“You act as if you think I’m going to try to hurt him,” she whispered. “How could I … I would never do anything to hurt anyone.” There was too much pain in the world and not enough laughter. Gideon had said something like that, she remembered vaguely. He had said a great many things tonight. All with a touch as light as a summer breeze, with an underlying salve that had healed before she had even realized any balm had been applied.

“I just thought I’d drop in a savvy word or two. No offense?” Ross smiled. “Gideon would have a fit if he thought I’d upset you. Don’t worry, he’ll see to it that you’re well taken care of.”

She smiled back at him. “Like his other ‘strays’?”

He grimaced. “You caught that? I was hoping I’d covered myself in time. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t.” She took another sip of orange juice. “How many strays does Gideon have here?”

“On the premises? Just one cat and a blind parrot. He usually tries to find homes for them before they become too attached to him. He moves around a lot and he doesn’t think it’s fair to leave them alone.” He stood up. “Now, drink the rest of that down and I’ll take you to your room.”

The tall glass was still a quarter full. She deliberately pushed the glass away. “I’ve had enough.” She scooted back her chair and rose to her feet. “I’m ready to go.”

“Are you?” A curious smile touched his lips as his gaze rested on the glass. “Some people just
have to learn for themselves.” He turned away. “I found a clean shirt of Gideon’s for you to wear tonight and I put a pair of my shorts and a T-shirt on the chair in your room for you to wear tomorrow. They’ll be a little big, but I’m smaller than Gideon.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

“No trouble. These little adventures are what make living with Gideon interesting.”

A glass of orange juice was on the white rattan nightstand beside the double bed when she came into the bedroom after her shower thirty minutes later. The glass was exactly one quarter full.

Gideon was lounging in the cane-backed chair by the window, one leg over the arm, a booted foot swinging lazily. “Hi, you look better in that shirt than I do. It kinda reminds me of those ads on TV where they have all those luscious ladies wearing their men’s dress shirts.”

“Does it? I’ve never seen them. They didn’t have a television set at the convent.” She touched the soft blue cotton of the shirt that came almost to her knees. “Thank you for lending it to me. It’s very comfortable.”

“We aim to please.” He swung his foot to the floor and stood up. He exuded so much power and vitality that Serena suddenly felt very small and helpless.

“I’m glad you didn’t wash your hair. It must take a long time to dry and I was worried you’d go to bed with it wet.” He crossed the room and drew back the top sheet. “In you go. I’ll tuck you in and turn out the light.”

She found herself obediently sliding into bed. He drew the sheet up around her shoulders and sat down beside her. “I’ve left the windows open. The screens will keep out the critters and it will be cooler for you. If it starts to rain, you’d better get up and close it.” His gaze was gravely holding her own while his hand stroked the hair back from her temple. “You’ve done just fine so far, but I thought I’d better warn you that sometimes it comes back to you right before you go to sleep. It sort of waits like a bushwhacker until all your defenses are down and then it ambushes you.” He smiled. “You just fool it and start thinking of something else. Frank or Ross or me … anything. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“And, if you get scared or want company, I’m just across the hall. I’ll leave my door open to hear if you call out.”

“Thank you.” His hand on her temple held mesmerizing gentleness and his expression was … beautiful. “Gideon, I.…” She trailed off as she felt the tears burn behind her lids. “Just thank you. For everything.”

“For nothing.” His grin lit up his rough features with warmth. “All I did was cook you an omelet and lend you my shirt.” He touched the tip of her nose with his index finger. “Go to sleep now and remember my very wise Hopi friends.” He leaned forward and brushed her forehead with his lips as if she were a small child,
his
child. “Sleep tight.”

“You too.”

“I always sleep well.” He rose and looked down
at her. “You just have to remember to watch out for those ambushes.”

“You have them, too?”

“We all have them.” He smiled again. “You’re not alone, Serena.” His gaze suddenly fell on the glass on the nightstand. “You forgot to drink your orange juice, so I emptied it out and brought you some fresh. Just what you need for a nightcap.” He sat down again, picked up the glass and gathered her up into the curve of his arm. “Bottoms up.”

“No, I don’t—”

“Shh.” His voice was velvet soft and coaxing. “You need it.” He smiled that smile that enfolded her in sunlight and caring. “Come on, there’s just a little in the glass and I want to feel I’ve done my duty to appease the gods of nutrition. I didn’t have any milk to give you. You wouldn’t want to make me feel bad, would you?”

Who would ever want Gideon Brandt to know sadness or discomfort? He was everything that was caring and loving, and so dear she could feel her throat tighten with emotion as she looked up at him. What difference did it make if she didn’t want the orange juice? It wouldn’t hurt her. She opened her lips and finished off the juice in a few swallows. As he took the glass away, she wrinkled her nose at him. “Satisfied?”

He nodded as he set the empty glass on the nightstand and laid her back against the pillows. “For now. You’ve been a very sensible girl.” He stood up and flicked off the lamp. She could see his shadow move across the room to the door.
“Now watch out for those bushwhackers and get to sleep.” He paused at the door. She couldn’t see his face but she didn’t need to see it. It was all there in his quiet voice. “I’m here for you, Serena. Always.”

A moment later, he was gone, leaving the door ajar.

He heard the swift patter of her feet on the tiles and knew she was coming to him.

He had been lying awake, thinking and listening to the thunder and the rain beating against the tile roof. He had always liked rain. There had been precious little of it in the desert country where he had grown up and, when it did come, it was like a blessing on the parched land.

“Gideon?” Serena’s voice was shaky and uncertain. She was standing in the doorway.

“I’m awake. Bushwhackers?”

“I did what you told me and went to sleep, but the thunder woke me and—”

“Ambush,” he finished for her. He sat up in bed. “Bad luck. I hoped you’d get a good night’s sleep. Come here.”

She hesitated. “I don’t want to bother you. I only thought …” She stopped. “I don’t know what I thought.”

“You thought you’d come see your friend and together we’d blow those bushwhackers to kingdom come.” He chuckled. “Now come over here and we’ll get down to it.”

She came slowly to him. “Shall I turn on the light?”

“Not unless you want to. Sometimes darkness is better. You might toss me that robe on the chair. I’m naked as a jaybird and I don’t want to shock your convent sensibilities.” He stood up and shrugged into the white terry cloth robe she handed him. “There. Now come to bed and snuggle.” He drew back the sheet, pushed Serena down on the bed and then lay beside her, pulling her into his arms. She smelled clean and sweet and felt wonderfully right in his arms. As he tightened his clasp about her he realized she was trembling. He had thought she would be when he had heard her voice. She wouldn’t have come to him if the pain of suppressing those memories hadn’t been impossible to bear alone. He experienced a sudden aching regret as he realized what that meant. It was time.

He cradled her cheek against his shoulder, his palm cupping the back of her head. Thank heaven, she had come to him. She was very close to breaking, and she mustn’t be alone when it happened. “Now, we’re going to talk a little. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes.” The assent was muffled against his shoulder.

“I think it’s time we got to know each other. I was born on a little ranch in Texas and spent most of my childhood there. We lost the ranch when I was thirteen, and my parents died that same year. I was in an orphanage until I was sixteen and then wandered around the country, taking any job that came along.” His fingers were soothingly rubbing her temple. “Then Vietnam
and some more wandering. Recently I decided it would be better to be rich than to be poor, so I guess I’ll have to settle down for a while. Ross will be very relieved. He has a taste for the good things of life. There. Now you know all about Gideon Brandt, Esquire.” He looked down at her. “Have I talked you to sleep?”

“No.”

“Are you an only child?”

“No, I have a younger brother. I don’t see much of him. He attends school in England. My stepfather was awarded custody of—” She broke off and he felt her stiffen against him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, you don’t have to talk about anything.” His voice was very soft. “But it’s time we shot those bushwhackers out of the saddle and there’s only one way to do it, Serena.”

“Gideon, I—”

“Shhh. You’ve got to invite them in and let them take their shot at you. You’ve got to remember. Then you’ll be in control again.”

She could feel the panic rising within her. “
No
!”

“Yes.” His voice was totally certain and she suddenly remembered that Ross had called him relentless. “It’s time to face it. Then it will be all over and you can start to heal. You’re not alone. I’m here. I’m holding you. Now,
remember
, Serena.”

She began to shake as if in the throes of malaria. “Gideon …”

“Don’t talk about it, unless you want to, but admit to yourself that it happened. It
did
happen.”

“No!” The word was uttered through clenched teeth. “Don’t make me!”

“You were in your nightgown, and your feet were bare.”

And she remembered.

The tears were suddenly raining down her cheeks and harsh sobs were wracking her body. “Ugly. Oh, God, so much ugliness. Gideon …”

“It’s all right, baby.” His voice was a low croon in her ear. “It’s all over, it’s gone now.”

“It will never be gone. I’ll always see …”

“No, you’ll always remember, but after a while you won’t see it anymore. There are so many beautiful things in the world, and I’ll show them all to you. Whenever you start to remember, I’ll pull another one out of the hat and then it will fade away again.” His voice was a level above a whisper as his hand stroked her hair. “Do you believe me, Serena?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t …” The sobs were no longer tearing at her body, but she couldn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing. “I can’t
think.

“Then I’ll quit my jawing and let you rest.” His lips touched the top of her head. “I’m not going to hassle you, baby. Relax now. You can think about what I said later. Right now, we’ll talk about something else. What do you want to do?”

The sudden switch of subjects bewildered her. “Do?”

“You know, do you want to swim the English Channel or be a clown in a circus or be the first lady to go to Mars?”

“Oh.” She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’ve always wanted to be an artist. I
love to paint. My mother took me to the Louvre once when I was a little girl and someday I’m …” She trailed off, floundering. She was actually thinking about the future, she realized with astonishment.

“See?” Gideon said softly. “There is a tomorrow. Now that you’ve faced the past, you can go on. One of these days you’ll be as famous as Titian or Da Vinci or Rubinoff. Will you paint me a picture?”

Her arms tightened around him. “I’ll paint you a mural,” she said with passionate intensity. “I’ll paint you your own Sistine Chapel, if you like.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate the gesture, but a painting will do. A Serena original.”

The tears had stopped. The wound was still throbbing, but it was already beginning to heal. “You’ll have it,” she whispered. She wanted to give him the moon, gift-wrapped. He had given her so much. “Anything you want.”

He became very still. “Lord, I wish you hadn’t said that. I’m trying to remember what a youngster you are.” His hand resumed its gentle stroking. “Listen, before you came I was lying here thinking about you, about us. When I was over in the Far East I picked up a lot of kind of strange ideas and one of them is about destiny. I believe some things are meant to be. Some people are meant to be together.” He paused. “I think
we’re
meant to be together, Serena. I know it sounds crazy, but almost from the first I realized we were right for each other. Can’t you feel it? We’re meant to love each other, to pleasure each other and help each other to be everything we can be. Why
else were we both in that bar tonight? I think it must have been because we’ve been heading for each other all our lives and the time has come for us to be together. Now you’re going to belong to me and I’m going to belong to you.”

BOOK: Across the River of Yesterday
7.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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