Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 (29 page)

And Bryan would still be alive.

She stumbled through the streets, oblivious to the acrid odor that seemed to tag behind her like a taunting demon. She thought of other nights she’d walked the same avenues, with Bryan beside her, hand in hand, enjoying the romantic glow of the gaslights. They’d talked of that elusive future as though it were right there, in their hands, to grasp and hold on to, for it was only when she was alone that Jade couldn’t completely escape her memories. With Bryan, all things seemed possible. Solitude brought back the dreams of another time, another life…another love.

Now all of it was gone. Every dream…every hope…every shared heartbeat of a future together.

Jade stopped walking, reached out feebly to clutch a lamppost, for her legs felt weak, rubbery.

What was left? she wondered. Nothing but tattered dreams, false hopes, and the feeling that she wanted to die, too, along with Bryan…and Colt, who might as well be dead.

How ironic that Bryan should die the same way his wife and son had. Maybe he’d secretly wished it to be that way. While she lamented the loss of two loves, so had Bryan in those final days of his life. He’d said without her he had no reason to live. Perhaps he’d gone into that fire with the deliberate desire to die.

Jade shuddered, clutched her throat as she fought against being sick right there on the street. The smoke had burned her lungs, tormented her empty, heaving stomach. Her heart felt like a red-hot coal in her chest. Passersby stared at her curiously. Several asked if she needed assistance. She waved them away, needing to be alone in her stupor of grief.

Suddenly there was a loud noise amidst cries and shouts that were quickly drowned out as the sound became louder, building to a massive explosion. Whirling about, she opened her mouth in a silent scream of horror as the burning building collapsed in a shower of ashes and smoke and bricks and dirt.

It was over.

All of it.

Jade felt the clutching hands of oblivion tempting her once more, and this time she did not resist. She welcomed the peace of that black, yawning pit and wanted to sink into its endless depths and never return. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she began to lose her hold on the lamppost.

Just as she felt herself slipping away, gentle hands reached out to catch her, hold her, and she dizzily cried, “No, no, let me go, please—”

“Never, princess…I’ll never let you go.”

In dazed disbelief, she opened her eyes and saw the soot-blackened face of Bryan. “I thought I’d lost you forever,” he whispered in anguish, lifting her up into his arms and walking toward a deserted park across the street, where even shadows dared not intrude upon their moment.

He set her on her feet, and she could only gaze at him in wonder, drinking in the miracle of his presence.

Gently caressing her face as he devoured her with his eyes, he told her, “I didn’t want to live. I rushed into the fire wanting to die because I won’t live without you, Jade. But God led me to that woman, through all the smoke and flames, and when I found her, unconscious and overcome with smoke, it was as though I found you all over again. All of a sudden I knew I had to live…for you, for us…and I lifted her up into my arms and God showed me the way out, through the smoke and down the back steps, and then I collapsed. I guess I was out for a long time, and when I finally came to, I went into the crowd and I saw Miss Pearson, and she told me you’d been there, pointed the way you’d gone.” He managed a lopsided grin as he ran loving fingers through her hair. “I’ve found you again, and this time, I won’t ever let you go.”

Jade wrapped her arms about his smoke-drenched shirt. “Not ever,” she whispered huskily. She strained to see him in the darkness. “Make me your wife, Bryan,” she urged feverishly. “Make me yours forever.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Since they had already agreed they preferred a private wedding ceremony, Jade was delighted when Bryan suggested they be married on the yacht, then sail immediately for the Isle of Jade.

Jade told him how, during their brief period of estrangement, she’d rented a place for her dance studio, wanting him to understand that when they returned, she’d go on with her plans to teach. He agreed wholeheartedly, but gently warned, “Remember, it’s just a little hobby, darling. You’re going to be busy with our life, and you know I’d like to start a family as soon as possible.”

Jade frowned but said nothing. No, she hadn’t known he wanted to start a family quickly. They’d both agreed they wanted children, but nothing was said about when. She’d just presumed it would be a while because she wanted time not only to develop her dancing school but also for them to just be together, the two of them. Well, she’d been lucky so far; perhaps she would continue to be. Certainly she didn’t intend to get pregnant if she could help it.

Bryan confided their wedding plans to Miss Pearson, who would take care of his office as efficiently as she had when he went away after Marnia died. He was surprised, when he asked if Jade had properly instructed Lita Tulane on her duties, to learn she’d let her go. “But why? You need someone to look after things. What about the work on the house? Won’t the workmen be going ahead with the plans? Lita will need to keep an eye on them.”

“I thought it best we just hold off on everything till we get back,” Jade told him. “I want to be there to personally oversee their work, and meanwhile, we’ve got the regular household staff to look after the usual things.”

“No, darling, no,” Bryan argued. “We need to keep them working so the house will be ready when we get back. What about our reception? Everyone will expect us to have one. It’ll be our formal debut in New York society as a married couple, and that’s important, you know, and–”

“There’ll be time for that later,” she interrupted him, not wanting to continue the conversation. He sounded so desperate, she thought with a wave of pity.

“We’ll have lots of time for parties later, Bryan. It’s the studio I’m worried about. I sent some of the workmen over there. I’d like to get it opened as quickly as possible.”

She did not miss the shadow that crossed his eyes, the way his mouth suddenly tightened, and she wondered if they were on the brink of another argument. But then the moment passed, and he gave her a small, controlled smile. “As you wish, my dear, but I think it’s very important we have the reception as soon as possible after we get back.”

“We’ll see,” she conceded. “Maybe we can have it in a ballroom of one of the nicer hotels.” She could sense he didn’t like that idea but immediately changed the subject to other matters.

She went on a quick shopping spree and bought a new wardrobe especially for the island. Most important was her wedding dress. Choosing a simple design of pale strawberry chiffon, with a high lace collar and fingertip sleeves, she felt it was quite lovely and appropriate.

It was the first week of June, and their wedding day was heralded by brilliant blue skies, tiny dancing puffs of clouds, and a warm, gentle breeze that conspired with the golden sun to cause the harbor’s surface to glisten as though dappled with thousands of diamond chards.

A minister Jade did not know waited on deck with Bible in hand. Bryan informed her, as they made their way up the short gangplank, that he was Malcolm Pridgen, a Methodist minister of one of New York’s largest churches. “Everyone who is anyone is married by the Reverend Pridgen,” he whispered, lips pressed against her ear. “I wouldn’t have had anyone else.”

“Did he perform the ceremony for you and Marnia?” Jade could not resist asking.

“No,” he reluctantly explained. “We had a service in a church she’d attended in the Hudson Valley.” He squeezed her hand, made his tone light as he asked, “Do we really need to talk about her today of all days? I haven’t asked you about your wedding day with Colt,” he pointed out.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Just then Walt Gibbons came up on deck from below and saw them. Rushing across the deck with arms outstretched in welcome, he was overcome with joy. Shyly kissing Jade’s cheek, he cried, “You just don’t know how happy I am to see this day, Miss Jade. I knew all along the skipper wouldn’t rest till you married him, ’cause you’re the image of his sainted wife, and—”

“Gibbons, please!” Bryan snapped waspishly, then turned away abruptly lest he say more. He went to the railing, gripped it so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Walt was at once contrite and embarrassed. “Oh, Lordy, I’m sorry. Me and my mouth…”

“It’s all right, Mr. Gibbons.” Jade patted his shoulder. “Just leave us be. And don’t worry about Mr. Stevens. He knows you didn’t mean any harm.”

Walt walked away, picking his way over the riggings, shoulders slumped, and she immediately went to Bryan.

“Please, darling, don’t be upset. He was only trying to be kind.”

Bryan drew in a long breath, held it, let it out slowly, then looked at her in adoration. “I know, princess, I know. I shouldn’t have reacted as I did, but I just love you so much, and I don’t want any memories of the past to shadow this day—I’ve waited for it too long.”

“Then let’s begin our day,” she said brightly, “and our life together.”

They began to walk, arm in arm, toward the Reverend Pridgen, and Bryan kept his eyes upon her every step of the way.

As Jade took the final steps toward her future, a maelstrom of emotions churned within. Bryan adored her. This she knew without a doubt. He was a good man, would make a wonderful husband and father, but something was nagging at her, making her pensive, and she had a good idea what it was. Marriage to another man was breaking the last link to that emotional umbilical cord that tied her to Colt. And, try as she might, there was still the impulse to hold on, to cling to the past, but oh, dear God, how self-defeating, how unfair to both of them. She told herself that once she was married, everything would be all right. There’d be no need to look back.

Bryan interrupted her inner argument. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze locked upon her as though mesmerized. “The way the sunlight seems to sprinkle your hair with gold dust…and the reflection of the sea in your eyes makes them shine like the dancing waters of the Caribbean at dawn.”

He caught both her hands, kissed each in turn, his entire body trembling with what he was feeling.

When Jade repeated her wedding vows, it was only with great effort that her mind did not travel back to another time, another wedding day. Bryan loved her, she repeated silently over and over, and that’s what counted. He loved her, and they’d be happy together.

After the ceremony, Bryan opened a bottle of expensive champagne, and the three of them shared a toast and several glasses. Then the Reverend Pridgen wished them well, promised to attend the reception Bryan would hold upon their return, then disembarked, leaving them to their honeymoon cruise.

Jade would have liked to stay on deck to watch the skyline of New York as they sailed out of the harbor, but Bryan was too eager that they be alone.

He closed the door to their cabin, locked it, and began to loosen his tie, eyeing her possessively all the while. He gestured to the strawberry gown she wore. “Take it off, but don’t get it mussed. I want you to wear it at our reception. I want you dressed just as you are now, so people can see what a lovely bride you were.”

Jade turned from him, and as she began to fumble with the fastenings of the dress, she wondered why tears were stinging her eyes. Then her heart disobeyed the decree of her mind that she no longer look back, for suddenly she remembered how she and Colt had not cared that everyone at their reception might think them wanton, libidinous, drunk with desire. They’d been too much in love to worry about other people’s thoughts or opinions, yet now she was oddly embarrassed, too aware that the crew knew exactly what was going on in this cabin. It wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, and she hated herself for allowing such tormenting thoughts but couldn’t help it.

She was still furiously fumbling with her dress when she felt Bryan’s nimble fingers push hers away. “Let me,” he said in a voice thick with desire. “You’re more anxious than I realized.”

She stood rigidly, helplessly, as he deftly removed her dress. Oh, dammit, she silently cursed, they’d made love before, many times, and she’d welcomed his passion. Why, then, did she now feel that her blood had turned to ice?

He turned her to face him, and she saw he was already naked. As he brushed against her, she realized he was hard with his own hunger. She did not, could not, speak. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see, but he took this as a gesture of solemnity for the hallowed moment. He removed her lacy undergarments almost ceremoniously.

When she was naked, he clutched her shoulders tightly and pulled her against him, parting her lips with his tongue in a kiss deep and probing. Then he commanded, “Look at me, Jade.”

Reluctantly, she obliged, feeling an uncontrollable shudder travel through her like cold waves upon a beach.

His gaze moved up and down her body, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

His hands caressed her like a sculptor lovingly tracing a rare and precious work of art. “You belong to me now, Jade. You are my wife. Mrs. Bryan Stevens. And we’ll be the toast of New York. No one will ever treat either of us as anything less than royalty.”

She could not help swaying ever so slightly. Oh, why did she suddenly feel so revulsed?