The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.) (164 page)

At the cabin he carried her over the threshold to be met by an excited Dante.

Lando reluctantly put Adela down and even more reluctantly said he had better take Dante for a walk. Tom and the kids had dropped by earlier in the afternoon to take him for a walk, but that had been over three hours ago.

Adela said she’d take the opportunity to change but Lando had said no, for her to leave the dress on. She had been surprised but had acquiesced.

While he was gone Adela looked around the cabin, at her new home. It was different now, more colourful and brighter but with not
too
many fancies or frills. Adela knew he would not like that; he
was
a man after all.

She went into the bedroom and looked at the bed, the same one she had lain in for the first time almost six weeks ago. But tonight when she lay in it, it would be so different.

She wouldn’t be unconscious for one thing. She laughed at her own joke.

She went back to the living room and was standing studying the painting of the small cabin which she had brought back here, along with her clothes and what personal items she had brought with her from
England.

They had as yet not discussed her money or what she should do with it. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to worry about that tonight.

She was so intent on studying the picture that she hadn’t heard Lando and Dante’s return so jumped when her husband touched her arm. She whirled round and he said, ‘in a brown study?’

She smiled, ‘thinking of you.’

He kissed her then looked at the picture, ‘you spend more time looking at this picture than anything else.’

She gave him an infuriated look, ‘if that were so, Mr. Lando, you’d still be single and I wouldn’t be here right now being insulted.’

He laughed outright now, ‘sorry, I was being an arse again.’

‘Yes, but I’m used to it now.’

He narrowed his eyes which caused her to giggle a sound that he, just like Hennessey before him, found as sexy as all hell.

She stepped further towards the painting and said suddenly, ‘you painted this didn’t you.’

She wasn’t asking a question but telling him. He was dumbfounded and she pointed at the painting and her tone very soft said, ‘that’s you in the window isn’t it.’

Again not a question and his eyes were wide in astonishment. He stammered, ‘how...how did you know?’

‘I don’t know, I just did.’

‘When, when did you?’

‘I think I knew the very first time I saw it. Maybe it was your reaction to my saying I liked it. Or maybe knowing the kind of man you were. But I knew for certain when you gave it to me as a present?’

‘How?’

“Something to remember this country by.” That’s what you said, what you really meant was something to remember
you
by isn’t it?

He looked at her still nonplussed but nodded. ‘I've never been so shocked when than when you mentioned the figure in the window, it just suddenly seemed like a sign somehow, a portent and that scared me more than anything that might happen with after.'  She looked surprised but smiled softly, 'but yes, you’re right; I did paint it, when I was a young man. And the figure in the window I suppose
is
me.'

She turned to him and put her arms around him then lay her head on his chest saying, ‘I’ll make it my life’s work to ensure that you’re never lonely again my love. I’ll always be here with you, for you.’

He was deeply moved and had to swallow several times before he could say, ‘the waiting is over now and the figure in the window finally has what he’s longed for all his life, he’s finally at peace. He has the woman he loves beside him at last,’ he kissed her, ‘at last.’

And with that he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom where he lay her gently down on the bed. Then very slowly and very,
very
seductively divested her of her wedding dress. Then even more slowly, very gently and oh so beautifully, he made love to his wife for the first time.

As they came together as one in joy and love all that had gone before was wiped away for both of them and everything was new and clean again. And Adela knew that everything she had experienced with Hennessey had been but a prelude to this moment. Even though it had been pleasurable, wonderful even, there had been something lacking, something vital missing, and now she knew what it was. Love. As her husband took her to heights hitherto unscaled and that she never even knew existed, she thanked God that she had waited. Waited for this man. Her love. Her life. Jonas Lando.

EPILOGUE.          

          Six months after their wedding day Lando and Adela were sitting at the table just finishing breakfast and talking about the new school playground Adela was having built in the town. At least Adela was talking and Lando was listening. He loved watching his wife talk, so animatedly, so enthusiastically. In fact everything she did was with enthusiasm and animation. It amazed him afresh how she never irritated him with her chatter. Maybe it was her soft tones, maybe that damn sexy English accent, well, whatever it was it amused and comforted him.

He smiled as she paused to take a sip of tea from her cup, a fine china cup of course which matched the teapot, sugar bowl and milk jug. She insisted they at least make a show of being civilised and what was more civilised than English tea in the morning served in English made china. But still he insisted on drinking out of his old mug, she called him a barbarian which had made him laugh out loud.

He marvelled afresh at how different the cabin felt, how fresh and alive it seemed.
She
had brought that into the house and into his world. She had put her own imprint on the house and on him.

Not that he didn’t on the odd occasion fall into bouts of melancholy and silence, he did. But she always understood and sometimes she would leave him alone until he came to himself again. But sometimes she would hold him in her arms saying nothing just holding him. She always seemed to know when to do either one of those things. Sometimes it was disconcerting that she knew him so well after such a short time, but mostly he was as glad as hell that she did.

He watched her fondly then looked around the room at the new furniture. At her desk in the corner where the table they now sat at used to be. At the lamps and ornaments she had bought. He had rolled his eyes and humphed when she had arrived with these things from the town. (She always bought things from the town much to the delight of the local storekeepers). But secretly he liked what she had done with the place; she had not gone overboard, knowing he wouldn’t be comfortable with too much frippery.

She was busy planting a garden at the front of the house, just like the one in the painting she loved so much. She spent a lot of time on its planning and design so that it would be just right. She also volunteered two days a week in the local school. The parents and other teachers loved her because the kids were so spellbound by her accent that they paid very great attention to everything she said. She spent as much time on that and her good works as she did on her reading.

He looked at her books spread everywhere, one on the armchair, one on the sofa, at least eight on the coffee table, and many,
many
more on the bookcases. He had had to make her a new one which now stood in pride of place next to the old grandfather clock.

She would sit for hours reading in the evening while he whittled a piece of wood to make an ornament for her, or painted, or sometimes even sewed. She never laughed at him or teased him about this and he loved her the more for that.

Sometimes if it was a particularly exciting book she would not come to bed until midnight then her first words would be “are you awake, Jonas?” He would grunt and she would then proceed to tell him all about the story she had just finished until he had to kiss her into silence, which he was pleased to say always, but always, worked.

He would never forget their wedding night and her response to him. He had been so nervous, she was the virgin but it had been his hands that had trembled when he unhooked her wedding dress and slipped it from her body. He had gasped when he had looked down on her naked body, at her lovely white flawless skin, at those beautiful, perfect breasts, at her radiant shining face and bright eager eyes.

He had had women of course, not many perhaps by today’s standards, maybe a dozen or so before he met Adrianne and then there had been no one else since and certainly never a virgin. So he had taken it slow at first, his hands travelling reverently over her creamy white skin as though afraid he might mark it. He took his time making sure she was ready for him, oh and had she been ready for him. He still marvelled at her eagerness and her unashamed response to his touch, his caresses.

And she had touched him too without reservation or shyness but willingly and ardently. And she had not just touched his body, but his heart, his soul.

He had groaned aloud as he entered her for the first time and she cried out, immediately he had stopped, terrified that he had hurt her. But her eyes were alight with excitement and wonder and love causing him to move inside her with slow but desperate movements.

He had watched her face as she came, as she cried out his name in her ecstasy. If it was her first time it felt like a first time for him too, as though he was a virgin again. Not just because of eight long years or that she had been a virgin untouched by anyone but him, but because he had never felt like this, never felt this moved, nor this content, nor this happy.

Not even when she had cried afterwards had he worried, he knew she was only expressing her joy and wonderment. He just held her. He knew how she felt. Afterwards they had lain silent luxuriating in each other’s warmth and love.

But
now as he knew she worried about him so he worried about her too. Often she would sit outside on the porch until the sun went down and it grew dusky, he had put lights out there to enable her to see her book. But sometimes he would come from the barn or the animal hospital which had been extended quite considerably and would be again before she was through; it was the only thing apart from the furnishings that he had let her spend her own money on. She had argued quite rationally that it would benefit the animals so therefore it wasn’t for him, but for them.

He would walk around the corner of the house and see her sitting on the porch, a book on her lap but staring into space, or maybe trying to see beyond the trees and he knew what... or rather whom...she was thinking about.

She would be wearing a worried even frightened expression. And sometimes around the house when she thought no one was watching there would be a faraway look in her eyes.

Sometimes she would have dreams about that time, she would wake in a sweat crying out, “no, no, don’t, don’t hurt her.” Always “her” never “me.” He worried about her sometimes, whether she would ever feel completely free again.

The phone ringing brought him out of his reverie, she looked over at the kitchen counter but it was not her cell, or mobile as she insisted on calling it. He still had no land line in the house but had had to get a cell phone of his own, he used it only when absolutely necessary, Adela called him a Ludite. He knew she was expecting a call from Ellis Leyton and looked disappointed when she realised it was his cell.

He was not quite sure how he viewed that man’s relationship with his wife, he was just about civil to him when he rang or visited the house, which he had a half dozen times or so. Sometimes his jealously almost overwhelmed him and he would storm off to the barn and stew for a while, but after ten minutes or so she would come to him and from behind would put her arms around his waist and hug him tightly to her. She never laughed at his jealously or his hissy fits but would just hold him, the gesture saying more than words ever could that she understood.

But now he hoped it was not the office, he had a dozen chores needing doing this morning. He had been offered the job of sheriff when Wendell Lomax had retired two months previously. At first he had refused but Adela, without nagging or insistence but by careful urging and clever manipulation, had talked him into it. So now he was Sheriff Jonas Lando, go figure.

It wasn’t the office but Wendell Lomax asking if he was interested in a fishing expedition that afternoon. As he chatted there was a knock on the door and Adela went to answer it. He heard her delighted exclamation then thank the delivery man. He looked up and saw her holding a huge flat parcel; she turned to him her smile very bright and put the parcel on the table, which it almost covered, and began to unwrap it.

She gasped when she saw what it contained for inside was the biggest box of chocolates Lando had ever seen in his life. She looked over at him her smile even wider if that were possible. She picked up the card attached to the box and began to read. But as he watched the blood drained from her face and she staggered so that she had to clutch the side of the table for support.

Into the phone he said, ‘Wendell, I’ll call you back and  raced across the room to her demanding, ‘what? What is it? Tell me.’

She just stood there staring at the card looking white and sick. He reached over the table to grab the card from her but she held on to it and sat down abruptly in the chair.