Family Stories

He reached out a hand without looking at her. “Marian, we have to go. I don’t need your father coming after me with a shotgun.”

She sprang to her feet. From the corner of his eye, he could see her smoothing down her skirt, brushing away grass and leaves that had attached themselves during their aborted lovemaking. “I’ll bet if Flossie were here, you wouldn’t have stopped.”

He gripped her shoulders. “Don’t compare yourself to Flossie, ” he snapped. Her eyes were a deep midnight blue, the passion only slightly masked by her anger.

Her eyes narrowed. “So, you did notice Flossie.”

“Marian…”

She swung out of his hold. “She’s been with every man in town, Frank. Do you want to be another in her long list?”

She looked so brave, with her chin in the air, her eyes narrowed. And so young. His anger melted away, swallowed by his chuckle at her defiant manner.

“No, Marian, I don’t. But that’s exactly why you shouldn’t compare yourself to her. She’s not fit to be in the same room with you.”

Mollified, she let her chin drop a fraction. “Then why did you stop?”

A wave of tenderness washed over him. “You’re too young—”

“I am not!” She took his hand and held it to her breast. “I’m a woman, Frank.”

His passion threatened to engulf his common sense again and he shifted away. “Marian, I should never have come out here with you. This was wrong. You are too young and I won’t take advantage of your innocence this way.”

“I’m not too young, Frank. I will never feel like this about another man. I know that and nothing you can say will change it.”

Her fingers were fumbling with her buttons. He swore, swiftly closing the gapping material himself. Tears glistened on her lashes. He barely stopped himself from bending down and kissing them away. “Marian, you’re so beautiful and young. One day you’ll meet a man who will make you forget all about me, except as some long-ago memory from a summer’s day.”

“Stop it.” She pushed his hands away, then planted her hands on her hips. “Stop talking about me as if I were a child! And stop treating me like one.” She caressed his cheek. “Frank, believe me. I’m old enough to listen to my own heart. I love you.”

His hands circled her wrists. “Marian, you don’t even know me, ” he said with increasing desperation. “I don’t have any money and I don’t have a job.”

“Father promised to help you get one. You could settle down here and—”

His quiet voice interrupted her. “I’m not the kind to stay anywhere for very long, Marian.”

She stared at him, eyes unblinking, then twisted out of his grasp. “I see.” Without looking at him, she smoothed down an imaginary wrinkle on her skirt. “Well, before you go, explain something to me. Why did you stop? I was in your arms, willing to be plucked like a ripe pear.” He winced at her description but didn’t say anything. “Wouldn’t your buddies have liked hearing about the minister’s daughter and how easily she fell under your spell?”

“Marian, I wouldn’t tell anyone else about us.”

Spots of color stood out on her cheeks. “Please, Frank, don’t add to my embarrassment by lying.”

Miserable and ashamed, he didn’t speak right away. He had bragged about his conquests to the other salesmen. On the trains, late at night, they’d laugh about the lonely women they’d met, sharing stories and sometimes even addresses.

He wrenched his thoughts back to the woman in front of him. Tearstains streaked her face but she still managed to retain her dignity and beauty, standing before him in anger and defiance.

“You never had any intention of settling down, did you? You just let Father talk. Were you planning to catch the next train out of town after you were finished with me?”

“Marian, I never intended any of this to happen.”

She stepped away from him, her shoulders hunched protectively. He stretched out one hand and let it fall back to his side without touching her.

How could he tell her about his conflicting emotions? He’d never wanted anything except the lure of the road until last week, when she’d opened the door. But what did he have to offer a wife?

A wife! Her father’s probing questions came back to him. Did he want to get married? Could he marry someone like Marian and be faithful?

His own parents toiled long, silent hours side by side at the family store, tied together through habit. He thought of the Coopers. Mrs. Cooper barely spoke two words without looking at her husband for approval. Reverend Cooper hid behind his Bible.

Head thrown back, he tried to find the answers in the sky above him. A trio of white clouds broke up the monotony of the blue sky, dashing forward in a steady line. A breeze brought Marian’s sweet scent toward him.

“Marian…”

She faced him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You might see me as a fool, but I’m not. Before you say anything, I suggest you leave this town before people find out what you tried to do with the minister’s daughter. And on a Sunday, too!”

He knew then what he had to say. He might be the fool but he couldn’t walk away from her. No matter where he wandered, he would crave her lips, her body, her very presence. Until he extinguished the fire she’d ignited in him, he would feel no relief.

He caught her hands. “Marian, I’m sorry, ” he said quickly. “Not for what happened earlier, ” he added when she twisted to get out of his hold. “For being such an insensitive clod.”

She stopped struggling, watching him closely. “What do you mean?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “The last three days have been hell for me, too.”

One corner of her mouth lifted and the dimple played in her cheek. “I didn’t say that. Father would wash my mouth out if I used language like that.”

“Then I’d kiss away the bad taste, ” he murmured, showing her how thoroughly he would do that.

When he raised his head, the color in her cheeks signaled a return to the passion they’d shared earlier, and his resolve to wait for a more romantic place warred with his rapidly growing desire. His resolve won by a tiny fraction.

He touched his forehead to hers. Eyes half-closed, she smiled at him, a slow, languorous smile that threatened the uneasy peace he had gained. “Don’t, ” he groaned.

Her lips drooped into a frown. “What?”

He trailed one finger down her cheek, wrapping a curl around it. “Miss Cooper, you are enough to try the patience of a saint.”

“But you aren’t a saint, ” she said with a saucy grin.

He tugged on the curl. “No, and you should remember that.”

Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck. “I do, ” she said in a husky voice.

“Marian, stop it!” He tugged at her wrists, holding her firmly away. “We need to go back to the house. Now.”

“But, Frank…”

“No, Marian.” He headed in the direction of the house, her hand tucked inside the crook of his arm, warm against his body. “I won’t be chased out of town by an angry father. And if we don’t return soon, that’s exactly what will happen.”

In the shadow of a large oak tree, he paused to check their appearance. With an objective eye, he straightened the collar of her dress, smoothed her wild curls behind her ears. He brushed his fingers lightly over her cheeks, wiping away a last tear. She shifted her head and planted a soft kiss on his palm.

His hand seemed to burn at the contact. “Marian, you can’t do this.”