Forbidden Son (21 page)

“I’m
not exactly in my dotage yet,” she shot back, laughing with him.

JT’s
face sobered as he continued. He met Tripp’s gaze, gave him a piercing look.
“When I was little, I used to hear my mother crying...sobbing as if her heart
was breaking. I would stand outside the door and listen, hurting for her,
wondering if I was the reason for her sadness. But I didn’t dare go in, even
though I wanted to comfort her.”

“You
could have,” Honey Belle’s voice was soft, touched by his words.

“I
once asked you why you cried at night, when I was a little bit older. Do you
remember?”

“Yes,
vaguely.”

“Do
you remember what you said?”

Honey
Belle shook her head.

“You
told me you cried because you’d lost someone you’d loved very much. When I
asked you who, you wouldn’t answer me, you just turned away. Then, that time we
saw the soldiers’ names on the TV screen, I figured you were crying for my
father.”

He
looked into her face. His own had a loving expression on it. Slowly, he said,
“It hurt my heart to hear you crying. I wanted to help you and I didn’t know
how. For as long as I can remember, it’s worried me that you cried that way.”

Honey
Belle, wiped the tears only to have more spill from her eyes. “Oh, JT.”

“Senator,
I guess it was you she was crying for. Maybe you can make up for...everyone
that hurt her.”

Tripp
swallowed the lump that threatened to choke him. “We’ll do it together, son.”

Chapter
Thirty-One

Tripp
felt as if he’d won some, lost some. Who was keeping score? Not him. With a
mutual cessation of hostilities and the white flag from all sides, JT had
agreed to visit his grandfather.

In
the time following that visit, the Judge had begun to lose his bitter edge
toward Honey Belle. He’d fooled science and the doctors by living months longer
than the original prognosis. Insisting on attending his grandson’s high school
graduation, he had proclaimed JT’s valedictorian speech as nothing less than
brilliant.

And
then after dinner he’d dropped the bombshell.

Honey
Belle walked to the porch, where the Judge sat in his wheelchair. “Would you
like a glass of tea, Judge?”

“I’ve
never been one to bandy with words. My motto is say what you have to say. Girl,
do you love my son?” the Judge fixed her with a look.

“Well,
I...” Honey Belle had found it difficult to stand her ground with her old
nemesis, but she straightened her spine and stood tall. “As a matter of fact, I
do.”

His
voice had lost some of its timbre. Nonetheless, he bellowed. “Tripp, you and JT
get yourselves out here.”

Honey
Belle clenched her hands.

Tripp
pushed through the screened door. “What’s wrong, Father?”

“Nothing.
I’m righting another wrong. This girl says she loves you.”

“My
name is Honey Belle, Judge Hartwell. I’ll thank you not to call me ‘girl.’”

Shrugging
his shoulder as if ignoring her plaint, he said, “My days are numbered. I want
my grandson to carry the Hartwell name. Why haven’t you proposed to this
girl...er...Honey Belle?”

JT
cut his eyes toward her. “Mom, I don’t want to change my name.”

“Of
course you do.” The Judge banged his hand on the arm of the wheelchair. “Tripp
Hartwell the Fourth has a nice ring to it.”

“No,
sir. Father, if my son agrees, the name on the adoption papers will read Jack
Tripp Garrett Hartwell.”

“So
be it. Now, do I have to propose to Honey Belle for you?”

Tripp
looked at his son. After a year of getting to know each other, their bond,
while tenuous, seemed to grow stronger each day. “JT?”

JT
smiled and with a nod gave his approval.

Tripp
reached out and drew Honey Belle forward. He felt the slight resistance. His
mouth slowly lowered over hers, gently stealing her breath away. When he lifted
his head, he said, “Honey Belle Garrett, will you do me the honor of becoming
my wife and making me the happiest man in the world?”

“On
two conditions, Senator Hartwell.”

Tripp
cut his eyes toward JT. They both shrugged their shoulders. He warily answered,
“Only two?”

“Yes.
First, no lengthy engagement. I’ve waited long enough.”

With
a twitch of his lips, Tripp raised an eyebrow. “Your wish is my command. And
condition number two?”

Honey
Belle’s eyes were serious. “No reporters or television cameras, no Washington,
D.C. sensationalism, no expensive wedding dress, no towering cake, and a guest
list limited to family. And a simple ceremony where my son—our son—walks me
down the aisle, with Aunt Tess as matron of honor.”

Tripp’s
lips lifted into a small smile. “I have a request of my own.”

Placing
her hands on her hips, she cast him a lofty look. “And it is?”

“If
you don’t mind traveling to Charleston, I’d like to hold the wedding in my
mother’s garden. I think she’d be pleased.”

Sudden
tears filled Honey Belle’s eyes. “That’s a perfectly beautiful idea.”

Tripp
gave her cheek a lingering caress. He mouthed softly, “I love you.”

The
Judge made a small, satisfied grunt. “This is an auspicious day and deserves a
beverage stronger than sweet tea.”

Honey
Belle offered her future father-in-law a warm smile. “We have a bottle of
sangria. Will that do?”

****

Two
weeks later, on the second Saturday in June, Honey Belle stared into the mirror
and saw a stranger, a woman in a delicate white dress. Today was her wedding
day.

A
bride.

She
stood in the middle of the room, thinking how welcoming it was, struck by its
warmth and charm. It was of medium size, with mauve walls, tastefully decorated.
A dark red-and-blue Oriental rug in front of the fireplace. A canopied bed.
Between the two tall windows, an antique desk facing out toward the back garden
with its arched bridge over a koi pond.

It
was a lovely summer day. The sky was cerulean blue, clear and cloudless, filled
with sunshine, and the foliage in the garden was spectacular. The massive oak
trees were a riotous mass of green.

“We
couldn’t have asked for a better day,” Tess said, glancing out the window,
looking down at the garden. “It’s perfect for a wedding.”

Joining
her aunt at the window, Honey Belle said, “Thank you for being here with me
these past two weeks, and for doing so much to help with the wedding.”

“You
are more than my niece, you’re the daughter I’ve never had. And, JT, well, what
can I say—he stole my heart the day I helped bring him into this world. Lending
a hand with the wedding is nothing compared to your happiness and knowing my
nephew’s future is secure.” Tess gently dabbed a tear from Honey Belle’s cheek.
“Why are you crying? You’ll ruin your make-up.”

“This—”
Honey Belle spread her arms wide— “all of this...Tripp, the wedding...this old
magnificent house. It’s like a fairy tale come true. I’m afraid I’ll wake up
and discover it’s all a dream.”

The
painful pinch to the fleshy part of Honey Belle’s arm brought a resounding,
“Ouch! Why did you do that?”

Tess
leaned into Honey Belle and kissed her on the cheek. “To prove a point. None of
this is a dream, because you are obviously wide awake.”

Honey
Belle was silent.

Tess
looked at her niece. “Spit it out. What else is on your mind?”

Honey
Belle glanced out the window again, her face thoughtful when she finally turned
toward her aunt. “Not so long ago, JT expressed concern because he didn’t want
me to be alone when he went away to college. Oh, Aunt Tess, South Carolina is a
long way from Georgia. I wish I didn’t have to live so far from you.”

Tess
said, “As it turns out, I’m not going to be so far away after all.”

“
Oh
?”

“Umm-huh.
The senator is not only a prize catch, he’s also quite astute. Suspecting you’d
feel this way, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

Honey
Belle shook her head. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me what conspiracy the
two of you have cooked up behind my back.”

“At
sixty-six, I’m no spring chicken, though I’ve still got a lot of spark left in
me. With my nursing experience and with a recommendation from the senator, I am
now a part-time nursing instructor at The Citadel.”

Honey
Belle gasped her delight. “That’s wonderful! But what about your house?”

“Put
it up for sale as soon I knew the teaching position was secured.” Tess pointed
to a building at the edge of the property. “That’s the old horse stable. For
years it’s been used for storage. The senator hired a contractor to completely
renovate it into a cottage. He told the contractor to work with me on the
design.”

Choked
up, unable to speak, Honey Belle placed her hands against her heart.

A
loud rap against the closed bedroom door released Honey Belle from her
emotions. JT called, “Mom...are you ready?”

****

Dressed
in a gray tuxedo, Tripp waited inside the gazebo. His Uncle Jake, serving as
best man, stood next to him.

His
father and assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins, all sworn to secrecy, were the
only guests. His Uncle Jake would make the official announcement of the wedding
after Tripp and Honey Belle’s plane left for a honeymoon at an undisclosed
destination.

Tripp’s
eyes met his father’s, and he smiled. With his failing health, the Judge had
charged his brother, Jake, with the duties of best man.

“Nervous?”

Tripp
glanced at his uncle. He refused to admit to pre-wedding jitters. Hell, when he
analyzed it, what did he know about love and marriage, and all the rest? His
personal experiences hadn’t given him much reason to trust the “weaker” sex. As
a result, he’d held his emotions in check for years, never allowing himself a
close relationship with any woman.

“Shaking
like a leaf, Uncle Jake.”

His
uncle grinned and gave Tripp an encouraging pat on the back.

Tripp
watched Tess rush up the path leading to the gazebo and take her position.
Breathless, the spritely woman smiled up at Tripp. “She’s ready.”

Tripp
nodded to the pianist. At the first chords of the wedding march, the guests
stood and turned expectantly toward the bride. Tripp watched as his son, tall
and handsome, escorted his mother along the path leading to the koi pond.

His
soul stood still.

Whatever
doubts he’d had melted away.

****

The
melodic notes of the Wedding March, mixing with the trilling of birds in the
sunshine, carried the weight of the song—a pledge of fidelity and a promise for
tomorrow.

A
path wound its way to the koi pond. Standing at the top of the arched bridge,
with her arm linked through her son’s, Honey Belle saw Tripp—tall and straight,
his hair streaked with gold, his eyes blue but unwavering. A sense of peace
flowed over her. Until this moment, she’d questioned her decision to marry
Tripp. Now she felt grounded. This was where she belonged. With this man.

The
center of all eyes, she drew a deep breath and began to walk forward in time to
the music.

At
the gazebo, she took her place in front of the altar.

The
minister said, “Who gives this woman in marriage?”

Her
heart swelled with love when JT placed her hand in Tripp’s and then placed his
own over theirs. “I do, sir. I give my mother and father to each other.”

Honey
Belle felt Tripp’s strong grasp and lowered her eyes, afraid to reveal how he
moved her. She beseeched her thumping heart to be still, but her heart wasn’t
listening.

The
minister spoke. “Do you take this man as your husband?”

She
clutched the flowers Tripp had gathered that morning from his mother’s garden.
Tess had fashioned them into a bouquet, tied with a white ribbon. Honey Belle’s
emotions felt as scattered as the scudding clouds in the sky.

She
had dreamed of this moment, longed for it, planned for it. She allowed the
clouds to carry away any doubts she had about binding herself to Tripp Harlan
Hartwell the Third.

“Yes.”
The word came strong and with assurance.

She
listened as Tripp promised to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of his
days. He steadied her hand as he slipped the Scottish Thistle and Celtic Knot
wedding band on her finger.

Repeating
her vows of devotion through sickness and sorrow, she eased the Scottish Rite
Eagle ring over Tripp’s knuckle and saw the tenderness in his eyes as his gaze
drifted over her.

The
reverend pronounced them husband and wife. “You may kiss the bride.”

Tripp
took her mouth gently. She felt the hunger in his kiss...and trembled.

Chapter
Thirty-Two

Tripp
pressed the door to his bedroom shut and secured the lock. “Do you think we
fooled them?”

Honey
Belle stood in the middle of the dimly lit room. She suppressed a tremble.
“It’s a well conceived plan. I have every confidence that JT and Aunt Tess
pulled it off without a hitch. Everyone will think we’re off to our honeymoon.”

With
his father’s failing health, Honey Belle had worried the Judge might not live
until she and Tripp returned from a month-long romantic retreat.

“Our
son was very smart to suggest he and Tess take our place in the limousine. With
the darkened windows, no one will know the difference. And all the time we’ll
be right here.”

With
an audible sigh, Honey Belle placed Tripp’s hands around her waist. “How long
do you think before someone finds out?”

He
drew Honey Belle to his chest. “I told my secretary I was taking a hiatus in
Australia, and I’d phone in for updates. With my father at the care center, I
don’t have to worry about being away in case of an emergency.”

She
sighed. “Do you suppose JT and Aunt Tess will enjoy trekking around Australia?
It’s a little out of the ordinary for a seventeen-year-old and his elderly aunt
to travel together.”

With
the drapes drawn, the room was dark. Tripp released Honey Belle long enough to
switch on a lamp. “You raised our son right, Honey Belle. JT loves and respects
Tess. I’ll stake my life they come back with dozens of stories about their
adventures, and photographs to match.”

“You
don’t think any of your family members will alert the press about us, do you?”

“You
know the old saying, ‘There’s always one bad apple in the barrel.’ If the press
finds out, we’ll handle it together.”

He
bent his head to claim her mouth. “Enough talk. Let’s begin our own adventure.”

Honey
Belle teased, “Where are we going, Senator Hartwell?”

“To
the island of love and exploration, Mrs. Hartwell.” He kissed her until she had
no resistance left. And when he reached for the zipper on the back of her
dress, she let him.

“Tripp,”
she whispered, “I haven’t...not since...you.”

He
slipped the dress off her shoulders. “You mean...never once? Not since the last
time we made love at Folley Beach?”

She
loved him so much her heart almost ached with happiness. “Uh-huh.”

She
wanted to lose herself in him, to feel the touch of his hands, the taste of his
mouth, the heat generated by their bodies. Just thinking about his hands
caressing her again took her breath away. Her nipples began to tingle, and she
felt an exotic warmth between her legs.

Moments
later, the sheets on the bed felt cold against her naked skin, but not for
long.

Tripp’s
heart banged against his chest. Caught up in the emotions of the day, he
suddenly felt inadequate and uncertain.

She
patted the edge of the bed. “I thought it was the bride who was supposed to be
nervous. Aren’t you going to undress? Or shall I do it for you?”

She
watched as a war of emotions played across his face. “What is it... Is it me?”

When
he didn’t answer, she said, “Tripp, please, whatever it is that’s bothering
you, let’s talk about it.”

The
edge of the mattress sagged when he sat down. “My prosthetic leg is so much a
part of me... If making love to a one-legged man repulses you, I’ll understand.
I should have discussed this with you long before asking you to marry me.”

He
raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. If you’d like to file for an
annulment, I’ll not resist.”

She
sat up, the sheet dropping away to reveal her breast as she took his hands and
laced her fingers through his. Her voice was soft and gentle. “I don’t know
much about your first wife, only what I heard on the television and in the
papers, but she must have hurt you terribly for you to think I’d reject you for
any reason. I love you, Tripp...your heart, your soul, your gentleness, the
relationship you’ve built with our son.

“I’ve
always known about your leg. All the media outlets were filled with your heroic
deeds in Vietnam, and the loss of your leg. I wanted so much to hold you, to
let you know how much I ached for you. I’m the one who was a coward. Trust me
when I say I’ve never thought of you as anything other than the man I want to
grow old and gray with. Please, let me see you—all of you.”

For
Tripp, her words were a gift from God. Still hesitant, he slipped off his
shoes. He removed his shirt, his slacks. He watched Honey Belle’s face,
searching for the slightest repulsion. He detected no uneasiness, no roll of
emotion when he unbuckled the straps, removed the artificial limb and then the
protective stocking to reveal the stump that dangled below his knee. He didn’t
turn to look at her just then. For some reason he couldn’t.

Honey
Belle surprised him when she squeezed his hand, let go, and moved closer. She
draped his arm around her and laid her head against his shoulder. He could
smell her, soft, like orange blossoms, and warm. In that quiet moment, thunder
rumbled in the distance. Their eyes met and Tripp’s senses reeled. He felt his
loins stir.

There
was tightness in his voice, and Honey Belle could hear his pain. “Are you sure,
Honey Belle?”

She
leaned in and felt the heat between them, felt his body tremble with the same
anticipation she had felt the first time they were together so many years ago.

Lightning
cut across the sky, and the thunder rolled, vibrating the old house. It felt
right to be here. Everything felt right. The brewing storm made it even more
perfect. And then rain pelted against the windowpanes, as if God had sent the
rain to wash away years of hurt, doubt, and loneliness.

Honey
Belle lifted her head and looked at him with hazy eyes, and Tripp kissed her
softly on the lips. When she kissed him back, the years of separation dissolved
into passion.

She
took his hand and led it to her breasts, and a whimper rose in her throat as he
gently touched them, and she was suddenly short of breath as he lowered his
head and kissed between them and slowly sampled one and then the other.

Their
bodies came together almost in slow motion, both of them trembling with the
memory of what they had once shared, what they were about to share.

****

He
was struck by her beauty, and the way her hair shimmered in the light. Her skin
was soft and beautiful in the lamp’s glow. Her hands on his back beckoned him.

He
lowered her to the bed. She arched as he rolled atop her in one fluid movement,
and then he was on all fours above her, his knees astride her hips.

She
lifted her head and kissed his chest, his shoulders, ran her hands through his
hair as he held himself above her, his arm muscles straining from the exertion.
With a tempting little frown she pulled him closer. He kissed every inch of her
body, listening as she made soft whimpering sounds. And when they finally
joined as one, she cried aloud, her fingers pressed hard into his shoulders.

****

She
buried her face in his neck and felt him deep inside her, felt his strength and
gentleness, felt the hurt ebb from his soul. She moved rhythmically against
him, allowing him to take her wherever he wanted, to the place where they were
meant to be.

She
opened her eyes and watched him, marveling at his beauty as he moved above her.
She saw his body glisten with sweat and tasted the saltiness of it with her
tongue. Their bodies reflected everything given, everything taken, and she was
rewarded with a sensation she’d forgotten existed. It went on and on, the ebb
and flow, and she struggled to catch her breath while she trembled beneath him.
But the moment it was over another wave overtook her, and she rode the crests
one right after another, until her body was exhausted, yet unwilling to stop
the pleasure between them.

****

They
spent the day in each other’s arms, alternately making love and, when
exhausted, napping. Sometimes Tripp would wake up and look at her, her body
soft and radiant, and feel as if everything was suddenly right in his world.

Then,
when they were ready, they would join together while he whispered endearments
between kisses as they wrapped their arms around each other. They went on
throughout the evening making up for the years they were apart.

Once
when he was watching her in the moments before daybreak, her eyes fluttered
open and she smiled and reached up to touch his face. He gently placed his
fingers on her lips to keep her from speaking. It was as if she knew what he
was thinking, and for a long moment neither of them spoke.

He
fought to swallow the lump in his throat. When he was finally able to speak, he
whispered, “You are the answer to every prayer I’ve offered. I never want to
live without you again. I love you, Honey Belle, more than you can ever
imagine. I always have and always will.”

He
looked at her and found her eyes filled with unshed tears. For him. She smiled
through the moisture, and he knew that somehow she understood all he was
feeling.

“Oh,
Tripp, I know it sounds like a cliché, but you really do make my heart sing.”
She pulled him toward her, needing him again.

The
feelings inside him rolled like ocean waves.

Their
bodies sated with passion, Honey Belle took a shower, then Tripp. When he came
out and found her asleep, he set his crutches aside and climbed into bed beside
her and drew her close to his body, her curves molding perfectly to his.

A
black cloud enveloped Tripp, threatening to obliterate the hours of happiness
he’d shared with his new wife as thoughts of Kathryn slipped in. He pushed the
memories aside.

Honey
Belle’s eyes fluttered open as if she knew he was watching her. Her voice was
heavy with sleep. “You’re wonderful...” Her voice trailed off into slumber.

Honey
Belle’s words struck a deep chord in his heart. And while sleep overtook him,
he thought about their future together and all the ways he planned to make her
happy.