第 10 页

The door slipped out of his nerveless fingers and banged against the wall with a loud thwack.

She came awake with a start. "What? Huh?"That's when Jack noticed the kitchen. He latched on to anger as a preferable emotion to desire. "Christ Almighty!""Jack?" she said sleepily. "It must be you. I'd know that pleasant voice anywhere.""It looks like a cannonball landed in here. What in the hell are you doing?""Jack!" This time his name was a shriek, as if she'd just realized she was naked in the tub. She flung herself sideways and grabbed a towel, plastering it to her body.

"What are you doing?" he demanded again.

She got slowly to her feet, the damp towel clamped protectively across her body. "Cooking." "You can't cook.""You can say that again.""I said you can't?"

She burst out laughing. "I didn't mean it literally, Jack.""Goddamn it, Amarylis, you know I hate a mess."She sobered instantly and looked at him. He tried to shield the desire in his gaze, but he had a sick, certain feeling that she'd seen it. She eased her death grip on the towel and stepped toward him. "You're afraid," she said quietly, her voice filled with wonder.

Jack stiffened and tried to retreat, but his feet felt nailed to the floor. He stood there, breath held. His senses were so alive, so sensitive, he heard each droplet of water as it streamed down her naked legs and plopped in the bathwater. The quiet, quickened strains of her breathing stabbed through his midsection like hot needles, making him shiver and want and ache.

He riveted his gaze beyond her, staring dull-eyed at the stove. He forced himself to remain perfectly still, even though his skin felt too tight for his body, and he wanted desperately to run.

The touch was so soft, he barely noticed it at first. But when he did, the gentle caress felt like a slap. He grabbed her hand and yanked it away from his face. "Stop it," he said in an embarrassingly husky voice.

Her eyes captured his, held his gaze in a fire-hot'grip. "I think I guessed that about you."Her voice, so soft and edged in the memory of the South, slid down his chest and landed hard in his groin. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

"About hating messes, I mean," she went on. "You're the kind of person who slaps a coat of paint on a crumbling wall and calls it new."The clean lavender scent of her wreathed him, lulled him. His damp palms tingled with the need to touch her, to feel the silky softness of her skin.

"Not me," she whispered, never once taking her gaze from his eyes. "I might make a mess?a hell of a one, actually?but when I'm done, there's a brand-new wall. Strong and lasting."Jack felt as if he were being sucked over the edge of a huge, crumbling precipice. Any moment, if he didn't break away, he'd go tumbling into the fathomless brown depths of her eyes, and he'd never come out alive. The realization gave him a surge of strength. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her backward enough to hold her at arm's length. "Clean up your goddamn mess." "Okay."Her easy acquiescence unnerved him. Frowning, he added, "And don't go around building any walls, either." She smiled enigmatically. "Don't worry, Jack. Apparently I have to tear down a few first."Hours later, after the kitchen was clean, Tess stood beneath the oak tree with Caleb in her arms, waiting for the girls to come home from school. A cool late afternoon breeze ruffled through the grass and plucked at her skirt hem. The crisp springtime scents of freshly turned soil, new grass, and blooming flowers filled the air.

But, for once, the beauty didn't capture Tess's attention. She couldn't stop thinking about her confrontation with Jack.

She rocked Caleb gently in her arms, moving in time with the whistling cant of the wind.

Something had happened today with Jack. Something she'd never expected. When he'd walked in on her, she'd felt ... sexy.

Tess had been many things in her life, done many things. She was no virgin, but neither had she ever felt really comfortable with her sexuality. She'd always thought it was because she wasn't pretty, or because her deafness made intimacy difficult.

Today Jack had set her to wondering about all that. From the moment their eyes had met, it was as if she'd been struck by lightning. Strong, undeniable sexual currents had been loosed in the room, splaying back and forth between them like a live wire. She knew Amarylis was physically pretty; she'd seen that in the mirror. But that didn't mean a whole lot to Tess. She'd learned long ago that beauty was on the inside.

But today, in Jack's eyes, she'd seen her own beauty. Seen her own desirability.

It stunned her even now to realize how much that meant to her. How it had made her feel. Without even thinking, she'd been on her feet, clutching that ridiculous cotton towel to her dripping body as if it protected her modesty.

His eyes had drawn her, left her powerless to resist their dark, hypnotic pull. It shouldn't have surprised her, this deep, almost primal attraction to Jack, but somehow it had. All along she'd thought she was drawn to his pain or his heartache or his need. Now she saw the truth: she was drawn to something deeper, something beyond the pain. To the man himself.

For the first time she'd seen him not as a father, or a man in pain, or an adversary. Today he'd been simply a man. And she hadn't been the pudgy, frightened deaf loner, or the makeshift mother to his children. She'd been just a woman, moving toward a man who attracted her.

She'd moved with a grace she'd never before possessed, looked at him with a seductive strength she'd never even imagined.

And when she'd touched him?a simple, nothing little brush of skin on skin that lasted no longer than a heartbeat?she felt as if she'd touched fire.

What on earth had possessed her? She knew he hated his wife, had known it from the moment he first looked at her.

But now she knew something else; something dangerous and surprising and more than a little frightening. He wanted her.

And even more frightening was the fact that she wanted him, too. "Mama!"The shrieked word ripped Tess from her daydream. She brought her head up and saw Savannah and Katie skidding to a stop in front of her.

"M-Mama," Savannah said again, twisting her lard tin's steel handle. "What are you doing out here?"Katie stumbled in her haste to hide behind her sister's skirts. Cautiously she peered around Savannah's elbow.

"I don't know," Tess said. "It was just so pretty, I thought I'd get some fresh air before supper."Savannah blanched. "Oh, I'll get started right n?" "The stew's on." The girls gasped.

Tess laughed. "I don't know how it'll taste, but I decided to try cooking. Why don't you girls go have some fun? I'll call you when it's time to wash up." Neither one of them moved.

Finally Savannah said, "How?"The question caught Tess off guard. Startled, she looked at the girls. Their sad, frightened eyes tore at Tess's heart. If only she could ease their pain, help them. But how? She'd never spent much time with children. She'd probably say something wrong and botch the whole thing. It was undoubtedly better to hang back and study the situation a bit more before diving into the fray.

Then it struck her. She was their mother. It didn't matter to them that Tess didn't know the first thing about parenting. All they knew was that they were lonely and afraid, and neither of their parents seemed to care. Until now.

Tentatively she said, "H-How about if we go pick some wildflowers together?"Surprise widened Savannah's blue eyes. "Really?"Tess knew instantly that she'd done the right thing. "Yes, really."They started to come toward Tess.

"Wait," she said.

They froze. Fear rounded their eyes.

Tess winced. What had Jack and Amarylis done to these girls to make them so damned afraid? Smiling softly, she said, "You can leave your books and lunch pails here. That's the first rule of having fun. You need your hands free."They went to the porch and plunked their lard tins and books down on the bottom step. Then, slowly, they turned around.

Tess smiled with a new sense of confidence. "Okay, let's go."She tried to keep up a steady stream of banter as she led the girls through the sheep pasture. The indigo rays of a late afternoon sun glanced off the grass hillside, illuminating dozens of multicolored flowers. A soft breeze came up from the Straits, ruffling the tall grass.

"That's a wild rose," she said, pointing to a scraggly little bush that was just beginning to bud. "I'll have to pull that up and plant it by the house. That way we'll be able to see the flowers when we sit on the porch at night.""We ain't never sat on the porch at night," Savannah said matter-of-factly.

"Well, that's about to change. Oh! Look!" Tess clutched Caleb more tightly and hurried toward the small cluster of maple trees up ahead. "What?""Come on." Tess bent down and found a few maple seedcases. The girls closed ranks around her. Frowning, they watched as she picked through the winged seedcases for just the right ones and then stood. Shifting Caleb to her left arm, she flicked a seedcase into the air. The boomerang-shaped seed whirled and danced in the night breeze like a helicopter before it floated slowly to the grass.

"Here." She placed some in the girls' hands.

Savannah stared down at the seeds in her palm. "You want me to throw them in the air? Why?" "It's fun."Savannah frowned. "Oh."Tess took another seedcase and flicked it hard to the right. It twirled around and hit Tess in the eye. "Aagh!" She clamped a hand over her eye and slumped dramatically to the ground.

Savannah and Katie rushed to her side. "Mama! Are you all right?"Tess grinned up at them. "Of course I am." There was a moment of stunned quiet before the girls burst into laughter. Tess felt a surge of happiness at the sound. She knew then why the sound had always stayed with her, even in the muted darkness of her deafness.

Grinning, she got to her feet. "Okay, see that tree down there? Let's see who can hit it."Savannah and Katie giggled and sidled beside Tess. And the Seed-twirling Olympics began in earnest.

Later, Tess smoothed out the beautifully embroidered tablecloth and carefully set the blue earthenware plates and silverware in just the right spots. A lightning jar full of purple and pink wildflowers sat in the exact center of the table. Dented tin containers of salt and pepper flanked the jar.

Everything was perfect.

Whistling softly, she turned and went into the bedroom. Opening the armoire, she stared at the clothing lined up so neatly inside.

She wanted to find something special to wear. After the wonderful time she'd had with the girls, she felt unexpectedly hopeful about this life. She was fitting in, and she was beginning to make a difference. Tonight would be their first family dinner, and she wanted to look her best.

The first thing she pulled out was a pair of ankle-length muslin pants with a drawstring waist and no crotch.

"Pretty racy," she muttered, dropping them on the floor.

Next came an hourglass-shaped, boned corset just the right size for a Barbie doll. The corset hit the floor next to the pants. She would not be squeezing her postpartum body into that thing.

As she pulled out garment after garment, Tess became increasingly aware of two things: One, none of the dresses would fit her unless she wore the corset, and two, women in 1873 were supposed to be uncomfortable.

She stripped out of the flour-dusted gingham gown and tossed it in a heap at the bottom of the armoire. Then she yanked on the muslin crotchless pants and covered them with a floor-length white muslin skirt with pretty lace along the hem. Last came a sleeveless, scoop-necked, short-waisted white blouse that looked like something Ralph Lauren might create for spring.

She went back to the washstand and studied herself in the mirror, turning this way and that. The pretty white fabric belled and swirled. She felt incredibly feminine and beautiful.

Satisfied, she left the bedroom and went into the kitchen. After another quick check on the supper, she called for the girls.

Savannah and Katie came running out of the bedroom. The moment Savannah saw Tess, she stopped in her tracks. Katie rammed into her sister's backside and giggled loudly.

Tess frowned. "What's the matter?"Savannah shot a nervous glance at the door, as if she was afraid Jack would come through any minute. "You're wearing your ... unmentionables."Tess glanced down, surprised. "Really? This is underwear? All of it?" Savannah nodded.

Tess laughed. "What a hoot. Well, this should get old Jack's attention, don't you think?"Savannah started to say something else. Then she noticed the kitchen table. Her eyes bulged.

"Now what's wrong?" Tess asked.

"That's the good Sunday tablecloth. We ain't used it since Reverend Weekes came for dinner last year."Tess winced at the word "ain't" and made a mental note to start grammar lessons tomorrow. "What day is it?" "Thursday.""Close enough. Now, wash up. Your daddy will be here soon."

* * *

Jack pushed the battered gray Stetson higher on his head and backhanded the sweat from his brow. Squinting against the fading purple twilight, he glanced down the row of fence-line he'd built today.

God, he loved it out here. Alone, working his land like in the old days. Here he wasn't afraid or lonely or filled with regret. No one expected anything of him or looked at him through hurt- or hate-filled eyes. He was just plain old Jack Rafferty, San Juan Island sheep rancher. Not Jackson Beauregard Rafferty III, disowned, cowardly son of the wealthiest planter in Georgia.

Not for the first time, he felt an almost suffocating wave of regret. They could have had a good life here. If only Amarylis had given the island-?given him?a chance. But, of course, she hadn't. Within ten seconds of landing in Garrison Bay, she'd dismissed the island and all its residents with an airy sweep of her pale hand. No one, she declared, but poor white trash would live in such a backwater place. And Amarylis Rafferty refused to have anything to do with trash. Jack had seen Savannah wince at her mother's words, seen the lonely pain creep into his daughter's eyes. A pain that had been born on that day and grown every day since, until now Jack couldn't remember what she looked like without it.