The Fire of Home (A Powell Springs Novel) (27 page)

She paused and swallowed.

“If you find mercy in your hearts for me, I will be most grateful. If you can’t, I understand.” She turned to her sister, who was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “Now if it’s all right with you, Jess,
I’d
like to get this thing off my arm.”

Cole, still as handsome as she remembered him, with his rugged, slightly wild appearance, unfolded his arms and approached Amy. He sighed, kissed her on the cheek, and walked out the door. She shot a glance at Jess, who nodded. “It will be all right,” she said in a near whisper. “He won’t say it, but he’s forgiving you.”

“And you?”

“Of course I do. You are my sister, and in the end everything worked out, even better than I had hoped.”

Jess went about cutting off the bandages and removing the splints. She moved those healing hands over the bones, gently, checking for proper alignment. “How does it feel?”

Very gingerly, Amy flexed her wrist. “Kind of stiff. And a little tender.”

“Take it easy with it. No lifting or chopping kindling, that kind of thing.”

“No, I know better.”

“And your chin?” She leaned in for a closer look. “The bruise is practically gone. Did the inside of your mouth heal?”

Amy nodded.

Suddenly, Jessica threw her arms open and enfolded her in a warm, loving embrace. Her scent was familiar, vanilla and carbolic. Anyone else would think it was a wretched combination, but Amy would know her sister anywhere by that smell alone. “Despite what happened between us, it makes my heart ache to think of you helpless against that bastard’s abuse. I have missed you so much. And you need to meet Margaux. I want her to know her aunt.”

The tears flowed again, this time in joy and relief. The situation was like Amy’s broken wrist. It wasn’t 100 percent, but with time and care, it would be good again.

Jessica closed the office and gave Amy a ride back to the house. “We’ll talk soon. And we’ll have dinner at the hotel, all of us.”

Amy smiled and nodded, and kissed her sister’s cheek. “Yes, we will.” She got out and walked up her front steps, her heart feeling lighter than it had for a long time. Taking out her key, she opened the door and caught the whiff of a meal. When she came in, she found Bax sitting at the dining room table alone, eating what looked like roast beef.

He glanced up and went back to his dinner. “When is the new boarder moving in?” he asked around a bite of roast.

“She went back to Portland this afternoon. There won’t be any more boarders.”

He poked at the green peas rolling around on the plate. “Yeah? Why not? I thought you wanted the money—and a new life.”

She pulled out a chair next to him and sat down.

“You’ll have to get your own plate. I didn’t know where you were or what time yo
u’d
be back, so I went ahead without you. Not like it’s any of my business.”

Amy sighed. He was mad. She thought he was hurt, too. “I had my splint taken off.”

He looked at her arm. He almost smiled but caught himself in time, she thought. “Does it feel okay?”

“It’s a little tender. Jess said I have to be careful with it. No chopping wood.”

“Hah. That’s not a problem, is it.”

“Bax, I need to talk to you.”

“What, more good news?”

“Before you give up on me, I want you to understand what happened. If you can put your hostility aside for a moment, that will help.”

He threw his fork on his plate. “All right. What do I need to understand?”

Once again, she relayed the information sh
e’d
gotten from Daniel Parmenter about her nonmarriage. She didn’t know how else to think of it. She seemed to have his attention now.

“You were
never
married to him? There wasn’t an annulment or something?”

She breathed an impatient sigh. “This is exactly the kind of reaction I worried about. Somehow being married, even to a bigamous, lying thief, is better than just being damaged goods.”

Bax frowned. He was outraged. “That’s not what I meant at all. Don’t put words in my mouth!”

Color flamed in her cheeks and she frowned back at him. “I told you the ceremony was nothing but a performance that Adam put on, and you want to know if it was annulled. There was no marriage. What else am I supposed to think?”

“It matters to you, not to me! Do you really think that yo
u’d
be more virginal if the wedding had been real?”

She sat back with a stunned look on her face, as if h
e’d
backhanded her. Instantly, he felt like shit. He realized that was exactly what she was thinking.

“Amy, listen. You were tricked. You were slapped around, abused, and treated like a slave. Isn’t that about right?”

She nodded, and big tears rolled down her face.

“That’s what I care about, not whether your name is on the county rolls in some dusty registration book. Do you suppose that I’m a virgin? I’ve
never
been married.”

First, she looked horrified, then she tucked her upper lip down, trying not to laugh. “But that’s different. You’re a man.”

“Sounds like a double standard to me. Those things aren’t important to me. I know you have a good heart. I’ve seen it in action. You took care of Deirdre before she died. You offered Tabitha Pratt a place to live when I would have expected the two of you to fight like wet cats in a pillowcase, considering the situation.”

“I found some money in that suitcase Adam brought here with him. I split it with her.”

“Now see? Those are the things that matter.”

“Then we went outside and burned everything else that was in it and the suitcase too.”

“Did you dance around the bonfire?”

This time she did laugh. “No. But we had a good time.”

“I’ll bet you did, and I’m sorry I missed it. You love your sister, I know you do.” He took her face between his hands and gazed into her green eyes. “And I love you.” He kissed her with great care, mindful of her mouth and healing chin.

“Bax,” she said with a small, quivering voice, “I fell in love with you the first week I was here.”

He caught her gaze and searched her face, unsure of what he sought. Not the truth. He could see that already. Permission? Mutual passion? Peace? He believed he saw all of those, too. None of the other women h
e’d
known, not even Polly, had set fire to his heart and desire the way that Amy did. Maybe his experiences and the passing years had colored his view. Or made it clearer. He only knew that he was grateful she had come along at this point in his life, not earlier. Some things were just worth waiting for. His love for her didn’t make him forget his earlier hardships, but it rounded off their sharp edges. He scattered soft kisses on her face, across her cheeks and eyelids, and felt the flutter of her lashes against his lips. A whisper of floral scent rose from her skin and filled his head.

“I-I should put that food in the icebox.”

“Leave it. This is our moment. Let the world roll by without us for now.” He pushed out his chair and stood up, pulling her to her feet with him.

Amy let him, not out of fear this time, but because she trusted him. He pressed her body to his long torso. This was the first time h
e’d
really held her. Her arms looped around his waist, and his around her shoulders. The match felt precisely right. With her face pressed against his collar, she smelled the clean scent of laundry soap and his ineffable maleness.

He pressed his forehead to hers. “Marry me, Amy. I want you to be my wife. We each deserve something better than we’ve had. Maybe we had to earn it, but now it’s our turn.” He kissed her, his touch soft, demanding. “It’s our time.”

“It is,” she said, feeling both languid and aroused, as if all that held her up were his arms and the strength of his words.

“Will you, then? You’ll marry me?”

“Yes. And you will be my first and only husband.”

“When? I want to do this right.”

“Saturday.”

He pulled back. “Really? Don’t women need more time for the dress and all that ballyhoo? You didn’t get it the first time.”

“I have my mother’s wedding gown. I’ve kept it in my trunk for a long time. It just needs a couple of alterations. I can do that. I’ll talk to the hotel manager tomorrow and ask about a nice dinner in their dining room.”

“This is Tuesday. If we’re doing this on Saturday, w
e’d
better get on with it. I’ll put some stuff together and go stay at the office.” He disentangled her arms from his waist, and she looked up at him, puzzled.

“What? Why?”

He took her hands in his. “Amy, the next time I come back into this house, it will be as your husband.”

“Ohh, Bax. But there’s no bathroom or anything there.”

“It’ll be all right. And I’m sure Whit and Em won’t mind letting me spend Friday night at their house.”

She watched him climb the stairs and in a few moments, come back down with an army kit bag. Her heart was torn between loving him even more for what he was doing, and the misery of barely seeing him for the next few days.

Amy walked him to the front door, and in the low, golden light of early evening, he sank his hands into her hair and kissed her as if he were leaving for the war again. “God, I’m going to miss you so much.”

She buried her face against his neck, not caring that old Mrs. Beech was walking by with her cocker spaniel. “I’ll miss you more.”

He chuckled. “Oh, no, no, I’m not getting dragged into that debate. W
e’d
be standing here for hours.” He kissed her again, and a low, anguished sound rose from his throat. “That wouldn’t be so bad, but I doubt that
I’d
be content with it.” He nipped at her earlobe with a gentle bite.

Shivers flew through Amy and she laughed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yo
u’d
better believe it.” He bounced down the front steps and turned to give her a last look. She swore she saw his whole heart in his eyes, and it was just for her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Due to their tight schedule, Bax and Amy decided to keep the wedding plans small and simple. Only family and close friends would be invited to the ceremony. In their case, that wouldn’t involve many people. Mr. Mumford agreed to conduct the ceremony on such short notice as long as it could take place in the afternoon. His morning was already scheduled with a funeral.

“How did this come about?” Jess asked when Amy stopped by her office to tell her the news on Wednesday. They sat at her worktable, drinking coffee during one of Jessica’s rare quiet moments.

“Bax proposed and I said yes.”

Her sister gave her a wry look. “But with less than a week to plan the wedding? Amy, you aren’t, um, pregnant—”

“Jess, no!” She sighed. “Although I guess I can see why people might think that.”

“Yes, and about anyone, not just you.”

Amy shook her head and stirred her coffee. “He proposed the same night you took the cast off my arm. I think we were two souls bumping around in a dark place for a long time. We finally found each other.” She had told no one about his past. If he wanted to, it was his business to do so. “When we did, it was like the sun came out, despite Adam, and the blackmail, and—”

“Blackmail!”

“That Milo Breninger, he extorted money from me to keep him from telling Adam that I was having a romance with Bax. And that was before anything happened between us. I had to pay him. I didn’t know what would happen if Adam believed a story like that. In the end, he told Adam anyway and that was how he showed up in my kitchen. I guess.”

“Have you heard anything more about either of them? Adam or Breninger?” Jessica asked, pushing a tongue blade out of the way.

“Not really. They’re both sitting in jail while the police sort out their crimes. Adam—I feel like I never knew him at all. He had at least one other identity and was involved in a lot of things I didn’t know about.” Amy looked down at her lap. “I can’t believe I was so blind. But then again, he taught me early on not to question him. And I could have avoided all of it if I hadn’t been so selfish. It was a hard lesson.”

“It was,” Jess agreed quietly. “But it’s behind us now. When enough time has passed, that episode will fade in people’s memories.”

Amy pushed her chair back. “Well, I have a lot to do before Saturday, so
I’d
better get to it. I-I haven’t spoken to Susannah. But if you do, will you tell her that she and Tanner are invited to the wedding? I’m sure she won’t come, but I want to include her.”

Jess stood up. “I’ll tell her.”

Amy nodded and kissed her sister’s cheek. “Thanks, Jessie.”

The short days flew by. Amy and Bax met at the café every evening for dinner. She wouldn’t have minded cooking for them, but he was sticking to his promise that he would not cross her threshold again until he carried her over it in his arms and she was Mrs. Amy Duncan. Now that the evenings were long and mild, he walked her home and they strolled down the street, hand in hand. For Amy, this was the sort of romantic courtship that she hadn’t known before. Adam’s importunities all those years ago had been nothing more than a calculated act, shifted, she realized, to Amy from Jessica when she rejected him. Flowers and overblown speeches about her beauty and virtue—the
y’d
all been self-serving. In Jess, h
e’d
discovered a woman too independent and strong-willed to be taken in by his maneuvering. Amy, though, had been a perfect victim: vulnerable, with an outsized but extremely fragile ego. Sh
e’d
eaten up his blandishments with a serving spoon.

But Bax . . . she felt as if the
y’d
known each other for years. They were comfortable together, and yet a heat burned just below the surface between them that made her glad their wedding was a few days away, instead of months.

On Friday evening, he walked her up to her front porch. They sat on the wicker settee that overlooked the street. “Well, Amy, this is it. Tomorrow night, I don’t think we’ll be sitting out here listening to the frogs.”

Ducking her head, she smiled and actually felt herself blush. “No.”

“Any second thoughts?”

Her head came up and she looked at him. He was sincere. She could see a shadow of apprehension in his eyes, but she had to ask anyway. “My God, Bax, are you
serious
?”

He shrugged. “The decision was kind of hasty.”

“No—no second thoughts.” A shiver went through her. She feared the answer but knew she had to ask the question. “What about
you
?”

He smiled and put his palm to her cheek. “Amy, don’t you know?” He placed soft kisses on her eyelids and temples. “You made my life good again. I can’t even remember how long it’s been since my life was good. If Whit hadn’t come along when he did that day Jacobsen was here, I really think I would have killed him. I had my hands around his neck when I heard Whit’s car pull up. Every night since you got here,
I’d
lie awake, knowing you were just on the other side of the wall—the only time I felt more alone was when I was in prison and looking at the world beyond the barred windows. Every hour I’m waiting for you seems like a year. I
need
you by my side.”

Her throat tightened but she let out the breath sh
e’d
been holding. No one had ever told her something that passionate. No one had been her ally for years. With a small cry she flung herself into his lap and his arms, and didn’t care if all the neighbors saw them. “It’s the same for me. Why do you think I chose tomorrow for the date? I didn’t want to wait months for something that feels so right. People might talk—even Jess asked me if I’m expecting—but they’re talking about me anyway. The dress is ready, the dinner is arranged at the hotel, we’ve got Mr. Mumford. But
I’d
marry you if I had to wear a flour sack and stand in a field with peanut butter sandwiches for the guests if that’s all we had.”

He gave her a big grin and took her hand. “That reminds me—I know the bride’s family usually pays for the wedding, but we aren’t children. I haven’t given you anything toward this except for reserving the bridal suite at the hotel. I have a little in the bank, you know. Is Dr. Jess covering this?”

“Adam is paying.”

He turned a bit gray in the face, and she felt guilty about her choice of words. She went on to remind him about the money she found and divided with Tabitha.

“I didn’t know it was that much!”

“Now, do you feel compelled to turn me in to the authorities for taking it?”

He laughed, then lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Taking what? I don’t know what you’re talking about. You never told me anything.”

Dusk settled over them as they sat there. Finally he said, “
I’d
better let you get on with whatever you need to do. We have a party to host tomorrow afternoon.” He winked at her and got to his feet.

She laughed and wondered how, after all this time and everything sh
e’d
been through, sh
e’d
gotten so lucky. Maybe Bax had been right when he said it was their time, their turn. “Whit is going to be your best man?”

“Yup. Em is going to get me put together properly so that I’m presentable. Doc Jessica is standing up for you?”

“Yes. I’m so grateful that she forgave me and that I have her back in my life again. I guess I didn’t deserve her before.” She paused. “Do you think I’ll ever meet your family?”

He sighed. “Someday. Maybe. After the old man is dead.”

“Do they know about us?”

“Nope. Hell, they don’t even know about me. You’re my family now.” He took her into his arms. “Speaking of which, yo
u’d
better get your fooling around in right now, lady. Tomorrow, I’m a married man.”

His kiss was slow and leisurely, only hinting at a suppressed urgency that she had yet to see in him. He ran his hands up her back and one slipped around to her ribs, creeping higher toward her breast. Now she
did
care what neighbors might think if they saw this. She clutched his fingers in her own. “Bax, this is no one’s business but ours. We’re on the porch.”

A boy flying past on his bicycle howled out a catcall when he saw them. “Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, and then yelled at the kid, “Don’t you wish!”

“Bax!”

He grasped her upper arms and looked into her eyes. “Tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Then, with a quick peck on her mouth, he was down the front stairs and gone.

The next day, under a brilliant blue-chrome sky, Jessica and Cole picked up Amy in Jess’s car because it had a backseat. They both looked very nice, and Cole actually smiled at her and carried her overnight bag down to the trunk of the car. Sh
e’d
spent an hour soaking in the tub with a bar of sweet almond soap. Her hair she had washed the night before to make sure it would be dry by this morning so she could weave it into a braided chignon.

“You look beautiful, Amy,” Jessica said. “Mama’s dress worked out so well for you.” The cream-colored lace gown with its gossamer veil made Amy feel like a princess on her way to marry her prince. She had even splurged on a pair of shoes to match. Bax had told her that Em was arranging for Amy’s bouquet. The group would be small—Granny Mae, Cole and Jess, Whit and Em, and Susannah and Tanner, if they decided to come. Maybe one or two others.

A light July breeze stirred the poplar and graceful birches surrounding the small church, and the blooms of daisies bobbed in the gentle currents of wind. Amy looked around but she didn’t see the county sheriff’s car that would have carried Whit, Em, and Bax. A nervous jolt shuddered through her chest to her stomach.

Any second thoughts?

She remembered Bax’s question from the night before. She glanced at every form in the church, looking for the right one. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim church from bright daylight, but once they did, she found Bax up near the altar and relief swept through her. He looked so handsome in a suit. Sh
e’d
never seen him in one before. Em was waiting in the foyer with a simple but lovely bouquet of white carnations and pink roses tied with a wide satin ribbon. Her red hair was twisted into an elegant upswept style and she wore a hat that matched her moss-green dress.

“Aren’t you a pretty bride!” she said. She handed the flowers to Amy and they carried a whiff of spice and sweetness.

“Thank you, Em, for everything. Bax told me you would supervise him to make sure he was dressed properly.”

Em lowered her voice. “Don’t ever let him know I told you, but the poor man was so nervous, he lost his breakfast as soon as he ate it. This means an awful lot to him.” She smiled. “So do you.”

“Oh, dear. I hope he’s all right.” Amy peeked into the church. “Where’s Whit?”

Em sighed. “That’s the bad news. He got called out to Fairdale on a report about a still someone set up on Luke Becker’s property. He dropped us off but he felt like he had to go. Whit has known that old man and his wife for years.”

“So he won’t make it?”

“He said h
e’d
try, but we might have to find someone else to stand in for him. But don’t worry about that—we’ll work it all out. This is your day, yours and Bax’s.”

Amy caught Jessica’s eye where she stood chatting with Granny Mae, and the three held a short conference.

“Do you think Cole might fill in?” Em asked. “I don’t suppose he knows Bax very well.”

“It looks like Whit won’t be back? Mae mentioned the situation, of course. All right, I’ll do something.” She turned to her sister. “You just go about your job of being the bride.”

After that, the few guests settled in the pews and Birdeen Lyons, who also served as the church organist, struck up the opening bars of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March on the panting old pump organ. At that sound, Amy clutched her bouquet in a stranglehold of emotion and began her short walk to the altar, where Bax was waiting for her with a sprig of lily of the valley on his lapel. There was no one to give her away, but that didn’t matter. Amy was her own person now, making her own decisions.

Although she caught a quick, vague glimpse of Cole standing beside Bax, the rest of the brief, dignified ceremony was a joyous blur. Jessica pried the bouquet out of Amy’s nervous grip, and Bax held both of her hands in his. She made the appropriate responses when prompted, but she saw and heard only her husband. He gazed straight into her eyes and promised his life to her, come what may, good times and bad. When Amy repeated her vows, tears streaked her face and she clutched his hands.