The Willows (33 page)

The girls glance held a hint of hope,
though her tone was as skeptical as ever. “Yeah, and why should I
trust you?”

Michael hesitated, and Gwen it could
see by the Titan features how hard this was for him. By demanding
genuine emotion, Jude forced him to feel things he’d no doubt
avoided for years. Turning slowly, he looked at each of the
children in turn, as if to make certain all five new they were
included. “Because I said I would be here for you,” he stated
simply, as he focused his gaze again on Jude, “and I never go back
on my word.”

Glenn had a sudden picture of a younger
Michael, rushing to her rescue after Lance pushed her to the
ground. You can trust me, she nearly blurted out, but caught
herself in time. A short time ago, she thought this man a wife
beater, a murderer. What had happened to change your
mind?

As Michael reached out to brush the
hair from Jude’s face, a gesture both tender and loving, Gwen had
her answer. She’d gotten a glimpse of the real Michael, the man he
kept hitting from the rest of the world.

“
Besides,” he told the girl
gently, “where else could I go? You are my family. You children are
all I have got left.”

“
Oh Michael, I am so sorry.”
Jude threw herself into her uncle’s arms. “I never meant to lie to
you.”

“
I know,” he said
soothingly, lifting Jude up and turning to sit them both on the
bed, the boys gathering close beside them. Watching Michael console
his niece, Gwen felt the tightness in her throat. She’d give
anything to be surrounded by such love and caring, but more than
she dared admit, she wanted to know how it would feel to be held so
gently by Michael.

He looked up, then, his eyes blinking
with her own. She could be standing there naked, so expose did she
feel, wearing only her longing and need. She wanted to flee, she
tried to, but Michael’s gaze kept her immobile. The words love,
honor, and cherish reverberated through her brain.

Sensing something wrong, Jude glanced
over her shoulder. She stiffened, withdrawing from Michael’s arms
stand beside him. “. What is she doing here?” The girl ask
belligerently, glaring at the Gwen. “She has no right intruding
into private family matters.”

As Michael broke the gaze to chide his
niece, Gwen took the chance to collect her thoughts. “Please, don’t
scold her,” she said quickly. “Jude is right. I don’t belong here.
I will go wait in the other room.”

“
No.” The word was abrupt,
demanding, but Michael deliberately gentle his voice. “That is, if
you have a moments, the children have something me want to say to
you.”

All five turned to stare at her
resentful he. No one said a word.

Michael stood, scowling down at them,
centering his displeasure on Patrick. “I’m waiting.”

“
Michael says we go you an
apology,” the boys offered grudgingly, and then after a frown from
his uncle, added, “We are sorry.”

There was a barely audible chorus of
“sorry,” from the other boys, Jude noticeably refraining. When her
uncle turned to her, she said, “I already apologized. I ain’t doing
it again.”

“
I am not doing it again,”
Glenn corrected, earning only a sneer from the girl. “Don’t frown,
Jude. I am trying to teach you to speak correctly.”

Jude turn to Michael. “Under the
circumstances, I think grammar can wait,” he said, staring at Gwen
with an annoyed expression.

“
There is no time like the
present to start,” he said defensively. “You have to amend it they
have a long way to go.”

He crossed the room in five long
strides, stopping in the doorway tower over her. Once more, his
gaze stripped Gwen to the bare necessities, probing into the core
of her as if to find out what made her tick.

With a shrug, he asked if she’d please
join him in the other room. Turning down the hall, he left her
staring after him, alone and trembling. Now what had she done
wrong?

Gradually aware of the curious eyes
watching from inside the bedroom, she turned to the children. All
five huddled together in a united front. “You will learn your
manners, “she told them, wagging her finger. “Even if I must drill
them down your throats.”

“
Gwen!”

Starting, she reacted instantly to the
command in Michael’s voice. She found him waiting by the front
door, wearing his usual exasperation. “Do you practice,” snapped,
“or do you just have the knack for finding the one sure way to
antagonistic them?”

When halted in the middle of the room,
surprise, for she thought she’d dealt with the children in a firm,
yet mature fashion. “No matter what I do, they are
antagonistic.”

Michael went on as if she hadn’t
spoken. “It wasn’t easy to get them to apologize. You could have
accepted it graciously and build from there, but no, you had to be
whittled their grammar.”

“
It needed correcting,” She
said defensively, “and besides, isn’t that why you brought me out
here?”

“
To teach them, not to make
them feel inadequate. The way you look down your nose at them, why
not just come right out and say that they can never measure up to
your expectations?”

“
I have never looked down my
nose-“

“
You live up there in your
fine, fancy house, believing your name alone puts you above the
rest of us.”

“
I don’t have to listen to
this.”

“
Yes, you do, because you’re
not in your world, you’re in our world now. Here, a person’s worth
is measured by less by who they know, and more by what they
accomplished. We evaluate hard work and honesty more than knowing
which fork to use at dinner, so try to keep that in mind when
you’re drilling your so-called Mainers down my nephew’s throats. As
I recall, it courtesy also entails in kind and considerate of other
than others feelings, so why not take time to learn who they are?
Stop being such a snob, and you will find they can teach you a
thing or two as well. Considering your father’s finances, it can’t
hurt you to learn how we poor people get by.”

“
Why are you being so
nasty?”

“
Am I?” Pause, staring at
her, before looking away to pass his hand through his hair. “Yeah,
well, it’s been a long day, and we are all tired enough he saying
things we shouldn’t. I have no wish to fight with you, my lady.
Life is hard enough.”

As an appeal, it was good one, for it
struck a chord deep in her chest. Life was hard for him; see it in
the lines etching his tired face. Yet before she could soften too
much, Michael announced quietly that it was probably time to call
it a night. “I will be heading out again just as soon as I’ve gone
out back and washed up.”

Gwen spoke without thinking. “You
cannot go now.”

He winced, looking twice as tired. “I
have to go. I’ve got a mountain of work that needs
doing.”

“
In the dark?” She asked,
her voice rising with her agitation. “Whatsoever work takes a man
out so late at night? Are you a smuggler? Or highwaymen robbing
carriages, hiding his ill-gotten goods in the swamp?”

“
Ill-gotten goods?”
Michael’s scorn may her feel suddenly foolish. “Look around you. If
I were a thief, don’t you think I could manage a more luxurious
lifestyle?”

It wasn’t what he did that bother her,
she realized; he just didn’t want him to leave. “You can’t do this
to me,” she cried out frantically. “You just can’t.”

“
Dammit,” he exposed,
spinning to face her. “Must everything revolve around you? I am
bone tired and have a hundred things to do before I can sleep, so
pardon me if I can’t quite work up the proper appreciation for your
problems. I’ve supplied a roof over your head and food for your
belly. I think you should be able to survive the night.”

He saw that he meant to leave, whatever
she said or did. Refusing to demean herself further by begging, she
threw back her shoulders. “Very well then, but be warned, we shall
continue this discussion in the morning.”

He refused to look back at her as he
opened the door. “Actually, I won’t be here tomorrow. I have
business downriver. Jeffrey will be looking in on you, though,
before he heads west to see his family.”

“
You are going away?” She
asked, chilled. “For how long?”

“
A week. Maybe ten days. You
will be fine,” he told her gruffly. “Just tell the children to do
as you say, or they will answer to me when I return.’

“
Remember, our agreement is
for a limited time, Michael,” she called out as he stepped through
the door, her voice quavering more than she cared for. “I won’t
stay indefinitely, so don’t go getting yourself
arrested.”

“
With my ill-gotten goods?”
Looking back over his shoulder, he flashed her a reluctant grand,
and Gwen couldn’t halt a faint smile of her own.

Something spark between them, the same
magic she’d felt when he kissed her. It was all she could do not to
run to him, to fling herself into his arms. It wasn’t virtue that
kept her standing where she stood, or any strength of character. It
was pride, the sad, deep conviction that he’d merely push her
away.

“
I will be back as soon as I
can,” he said quietly. “And for what it’s worth, I am sorry,
too.”

And with that, he closed the door in
her face.

Chapter 15

Michael stood on the other side of the
door, his hand on the knob battled the urge to go back inside. Part
of him might hope to stream things out with Gwen, but a darker part
in new he would be wasting his time. She was like a hurricane,
liable to veer off course at any given moment; he can never predict
what direction she’d take next. Of all the women he’d known in his
life, none have ever had such power to leave him so completely
bewildered.

His mind reeled from the last scene–her
words telling him one thing, her eyes saying another. Those
come-hither looks; didn’t she know what they did to a
man?

But, of course, she knew. She been
manipulating her eager men with her melting eyes and pouting lips
for years. If he had any sense, he’d leave now, before she had him
agreeing to something he lived to regret.

Releasing the nod, took the porch steps
within angry stride. It bothered him, how hard it was to leave,
however he nearly he’d given into the urge to lift her into his
arms. The only thing saving him was the fact that he had the
children to think of now, a future he must build for them. Giving
in to Gwen could easily destroy all of his plans.

Staring into her seducing eyes, the
need to confine in her, to offer her up his hopes like a gift at
her feet, had nearly overwhelmed him. Yet, even in the mists of his
madness, he he’d known his dreams were too important, and far too
fragile, to risk having her laugh in his face.

Oh, she might make a sore like a God of
with a single smile, but he learned long ago how easily she could
turn and sneer, leaving him to feel as important as the mud the
need for toes.

He knew all that, yet knowing didn’t
ease the ache in his groin.

Maybe washing up what help cool him
down. It was a good thing he was getting away, he decided. In this
setting, the two of them in the cabin in this sweltering heat, it
was no wonder his lust got the best of him.

Gwen was a beautiful woman–there was no
denying it–but the world was filled with many beautiful women. He
could find a more generous one, the sort we saw no need to
complicate his life further. Hell, he was heading down to New
Orleans tomorrow, and if he couldn’t find a willing female
somewhere in that city, there truly was no hope for him.

He would wash up now, then head
downriver. And the next time he met up with Gwen, he’d be so tired,
not the heat, nor even the soft, seductive breeze of the Bayou,
could stir him to passion.

Glancing back at the cabin, he knew the
sooner he left the better.

***

Gwen stood aware Michael had left her.
Part of her still wish to rant and rave and call him unfair, but an
equal partner she had not spared thought for any but her own
concerns. She had been so busy worrying about what would become of
her, she not stop to consider how her thoughtless words might
affect the children.

She tried to make excuses. On their
first encounter at the docks, she had been hot and frightened, and
they’d hardly been saints themselves. So she’d vented her
ill-humor; a few testy remarks were hardly a crime.

But it wasn’t so much a case of what
she said, Michael had implied, but rather how she said it. “You
make them feel they can never live up to your
expectations.”

Has she been doing to them what her
parents had always done to her? Too painfully, she remembered how
it felt to listen to her mother’s constant yelling, how she’d
squirmed under her father’s gazes, wondering if she’d ever please
either parent. Thinking back, perhaps a good deal of her wild and
willful thinking and behavior had been an attempt to convince
herself that their praise did not matter.

What if Jude were the same? What if all
this hostility and defiance masked a need to prove herself
independent of outside approval? Poor girl–from experience, Gwen
knew she’d find nothing but trouble. Just look where her own
willfulness had taken her.