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Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure

Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine (56 page)

BOOK: Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine
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Two hours,

she said.

He frowned.

What?


Kiss me for two hours here…beneath our honeysuckle vine,

she explained.

Kiss me for two hours
. T
hen I

ll give you until after supper on Monday to tell me of this terrible darkness that haunts you.

Johnny grinned.
He glanced up to the sun in the sky.

Two hours should run us right up to suppertime,

he said.


Then two hours it is…two hours and Monday,

she whispered.

Vivianna placed her hands against the smooth, warm contours of Johnny

s muscular chest.
As ever, Johnny had discarded his shirt in an effort to tolerate the unfamiliar mugginess of the
Alabama
summer.
She wondered how he ever survived years of war while having to don a uniform.


All right,

he agreed.

Two hours and Monday.

Vivianna

s entire body delighted with goose pimples as Johnny took her in his arms—as his mouth began to entwine them in a bewitching spell of mutual and barely restrained desire.
There, beneath the honeysuckle vine, as Johnny

s demanding, heated kisses carried her to rapture on delicious wings of bliss, Vivianna knew that these were the kisses only he could give—that Johnny Tabor was the only man she could ever belong to.

He broke the seal of their lips a moment, allowing Vivianna to catch her breath.
She smiled—giggled breathlessly.


What

s so amusin

?

he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth.


Nothin

,

she whispered.

I was just thinkin

of how
adorable
Lowell
is.

Johnny

s brows arched with bewilderment.

While I

m kissin

you…you

re thinkin

about
Lowell
?

he asked.

Vivianna ran her fingers through Johnny

s soft hair and smiled at him.

I

m just thinkin

how sweet he is…to think you need instruction on how to kiss me.

Johnny

s expression relaxed.

Then…I guess I do all right at it after all.

Vivianna nodded.

Now kiss me, Johnny Tabor.
Kiss me as I

ve never been kissed before.

As Johnny

s mouth descended to hers once more, however, Vivianna was unsettled a moment as the words from Justin

s once beloved letter echoed in her mind.

When I return we will meet beneath the honeysuckle vine, and I will kiss you such a kiss as you have never known before
.

She thought it somehow ironic that it was Johnny with whom she lingered beneath the honeysuckle vine
,
not Justin.
That it was Johnny who had first kissed her such a kiss as she had never known.

As the honeysuckle blossoms quivered in the breeze, sending the sweet fragrance of nectar
in
to the air, Vivianna was thankful—thankful to be in Johnny

s arms—thankful that heaven itself had brought him to
Alabama
to love her and to kiss her beneath the honeysuckle vine.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Johnny was already gone when Vivianna rose Monday morning.
The night before
,
he

d told her he

d be leaving before sunup.
Without a horse, he

d have to walk the three miles to the railroad site
,
and work started at sunrise.
Caleb and Justin had also left for town.
Thus, as Vivianna set the pan of hot biscuits in the center of the table, it was she and
Savannah
who would enjoy a friendly breakfast with Nate, Willy, and Lowell.


Can we have extra butter this mornin

, Mama?

Willy asked.


Oh yes!

Lowell
chimed.

Please, Miss Savannah!
I went near two years without a lick of butter

til I got here.

Savannah
smiled, tousling
Lowell

s pumpkin hair.


Well, how can I refuse when ya tell me that,
Lowell
?

she said.

All right then
,
boys
. S
ince the men didn

t have time for biscuit
s and butter…y

a
ll can have their share.


Thanks, Mama!

Nate exclaimed, plunging a fork into the butter dish in the center of the table.


Mind your manners, Nate,

Savannah
reminded.


Sorry, Mama,

Nate said, slathering a hot biscuit with butter.


Oh, Viv!

Savannah
exclaimed then.

I plum forgot.
Johnny
said he left something for ya…
left it on his bed.

Vivianna smiled
,
even for the sudden nervous sensation swelling in her stomach.
Johnny had promised to tell her what ghosts were haunting his soul.
He

d promised to tell her that very day.
Still, she

d expected him to wait until after supper—until they could perhaps walk a ways and be alone.


And I

m thinkin

,

Savannah
continued,

that maybe we oughta have Johnny move on into town…before you

re what he

s leavin

in his bed one mornin

.


Savannah
!

Vivianna gasped.

But
Savannah
only giggled and teasingly winked at Vivianna.

Well, at last!
I didn

t know what it would take to get you to start callin

me by my given name.
But…now I know.


What do you mean, Mama?

Willy asked.

About movin

Johnny into town before Vivianna

s what he leaves



Never you mind, Willy,

Savannah
interrupted.

Never you mind.


Your face is as red as my big toe was when I stepped on that hornet last week, Viv,

Nate said.


Maybe Johnny

s pulled his treasure out of that ol

tin box he hides,

Willy suggested, his eyes wide as saucers.

Maybe that

s what he

s left for ya, Viv.


More

n likely it

s a letter,

Lowell
mumbled, shoving half a biscuit in his mouth all at once.

Mr. Johnny was the letter-writin

est fool I ever did see.
When we was in camp
,
I swear that

s all he did
. A
ny time he

d get a letter, he

d pine away over it like he was sick or somethin

…then sit down and spend an hour in respondin

.

Vivianna frowned a bit.
Johnny writing letters?
To whom? Yet suddenly a great suspicion rose in her, followed by a wave of nausea.
She felt hot, breathless, and weak.


Well, who was he writin

to?

Nate asked.

He writes to his sister
,
ever since he

s been here.
But I ain

t never seen him
—”


Excuse me,

Vivianna said, pushing her chair away from the table.


Viv?

Savannah
asked.

But Vivianna didn

t stop.
She was afraid if she did, she might faint.
An idea—a strange
understanding

was washing over her like a spring flood.

She nearly ran to Johnny

s room—burst in and went directly to the bed.
His bed was neatly spread
,
and there was indeed something lying upon it
:
a honeysuckle blossom, expertly carved from a small piece of wood
,
and an envelope.

Vivianna picked up the carving first
and
held it in her trembling hand as she gazed at its perfect beauty.
The carving was small
,
rest
ing
perfectly in the palm of her hand.
The intricate detail of the carving was unlike anything Vivianna had ever seen before.
She remembered all the times she

d seen Johnny whittling on the front porch or out near the garden.
She remembered the story he told her of what he loved most about Christmas—of carving animals from wood for his brothers.

Overwhelmed with emotion
,
love
,
and gratitude
,
she pressed the delicate wooden blossom to her lips.
She closed her e
yes
,
envisioned Johnny sitting
whittling
,
and wondered how long he had worked to create such a perfect thing of beauty.

She opened her eyes
,
and her gaze fell to the letter.
Her name was written on the envelope
,
yet still she could not accept what her mind was whispering to her.

Carefully, she laid the carving on the basin table nearby.
She sat down on the bed and
,
with trembling hands, picked up the letter.

She opened the envelope—unfolded the page therein.

Tears filled her eyes as, before reading the short inscription, she looked to the signature there.


I love you
,

she whispered, reading the last line of the letter aloud.

Johnny
.

The tears in her eyes spilled over her cheeks as her fingers traced Johnny

s name—traced the letter J at the beginning of it.
It was perfectly she knew his writing
;
it was perfectly she recognized
the
J at the beginning of Johnny

s signature.


Johnny!

she breathed.

Johnny had written the letters she

d loved so!
Johnny had penned the beautiful promises
,
the pledges of true love!
Johnny—not Justin!
She could not fathom why
. S
he could not fathom why Johnny would have written such things to her—why he would have allowed her to believe Justin had written them.
Still, in that moment, she didn

t care!
In that moment, she was only euphoric with the knowledge that Johnny had loved her so long.
She did not pause to think that perhaps what he

d written in the letters was false
,
for she knew he loved her now
. T
hus he must have somehow loved her before—before he brought Justin home to Alabama—before he

d kissed her so blissfully beneath the honeysuckle vine!


Are you all right, Viv honey?

Savannah
asked from the doorway.

Vivianna nodded
and
managed to whisper,

Yes.

She read Johnny

s note then
,
breath
ing
the words written upon it.


My darling Vivianna
,

she whispered.

When I return this evening
,
I will keep my promise.
I will tell you why you may not want me…reveal the darkness in my soul.
Still, even though I know you may despise me
,
I hope you will yet love me
,
for I have loved you longer than you know.
And when I return tonight

when I have shown you the sinfulness that taints me

I pray that you can find forgiveness in your heart
,
that you might still love me.
Then we will meet beneath the honeysuckle vine, and I will kiss you such a kiss as you have never known before.
I love you.
Johnny
.

Savannah
was at her side
,
one comforting hand on her shoulder.


Viv,

she breathed.

What is it?


Johnny,

Vivianna whispered.
She turned to
Savannah
,
tears streaming down her face.

It was Johnny who wrote the letters…not Justin.
It

s always been Johnny I loved,
Savannah
.


Johnny?

Savannah
breathed, taking the
note from Vivianna

s hand.


He…he thinks I won

t love him,

Vivianna stammered.

He thinks I

ll hate him for lyin

to me.


Will you?

Savannah
asked.
Vivianna saw the tears in
Savannah

s eyes as well.


Never!

she breathed.

He loves me!

she cried.
Suddenly a delicious sort of laughter overtook her.

Savannah
!
He

s loved me all along!
Oh, how hard it must

ve been for him…to watch me with Justin!

BOOK: Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine
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