The Blackstone Legacy (17 page)

She sat, studying his face in repose, noting the lean jaw, aquiline nose and firm chin—features their daughter had inherited. Juliet had been a feminine version of her father with the exception of her mouth. Her mouth had been Tricia's.

She pushed off the rocker and began clearing the table. She washed the dishes, then carefully dried the
china and silver and put them away. She returned to the porch, book in hand and sat down on the rocker.

The sound of an approaching vehicle shattered the stillness of the morning. Glancing up, she saw Sheldon's pickup truck maneuvering into the driveway. Tricia was on her feet, watching as Sheldon helped his grandson out of the truck. Sean Blackstone raced up the steps of the porch, his dark-gray eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I have a sister, Miss Tricia!” His high-pitched voice startled several birds perched on the branches of a nearby oak tree. They fluttered and chattered noisily before settling back under the cool canopy of leaves.

She stared down at the young boy, smiling. There was no doubt that he was Ryan's son. Tricia ruffled his black curly hair. “Congratulations on becoming a big brother.”

“Daddy said I can't see my baby sister until she comes home with Mommy.” Sean's gaze shifted, resting on his uncle on the chaise. “What happened to Uncle Jeremy, Miss Tricia? Why is his leg wrapped up like that?”

Tricia stared at Sheldon who now stood on the porch. It was obvious Sean hadn't been told about his uncle's injuries.

Resting a large hand on his grandson's shoulder, Sheldon let out his breath in an audible sigh. “Your
uncle Jeremy had an accident. He fell and hurt his leg.”

Sean's head came up and he stared at Sheldon. “Like a horse?”

Sheldon nodded. “Yes, like a horse.”

“Grandpa, did he hurt his face when he fell down?”

“Yes, Sean. He also hurt his face when he fell,” Sheldon said in a quiet voice. “Why don't you go for a walk with Miss Tricia while I sit with Uncle Jeremy?”

Tricia reached for Sean's hand. “Come with me. I'm going to see my grandfather.” She knew Sheldon wanted to be alone with Jeremy, even though he was sedated.

“Take my truck, Tricia,” Sheldon called out as he sat on the rocker she had just vacated. Everyone who lived or worked at the horse farm always left the keys in the ignition of their vehicles.

Tricia helped Sean into the pickup and belted him in before she sat behind the wheel and started the engine. It had been a while since she had driven a standard vehicle. She, like most of the children living at Blackstone Farms, had learned to drive a tractor as soon as their legs were long enough to reach the pedals.

She arrived at Gus's house and found his pickup missing. Turning to Sean, she smiled at him. “How
would you like to help me cut some flowers to make a bouquet for your mother and little sister to welcome them home?”

Sean flashed a wide grin. “Yes, Miss Tricia.”

 

Fifty minutes later Tricia drove back to Jeremy's house with a basket filled with pink and white roses, a vase and spools of pink ribbon in varying shades. Her grandmother had taught her the intricacies of floral arranging. Tricia had also changed out of her dress and into a pair of black capris and a white camp shirt.

She stared at Jeremy. He was still asleep. “How was he?” she asked Sheldon in a quiet voice.

Sheldon cupped her elbow arm and led her away from where Sean sat next to his uncle. “He was talking in his sleep, Tricia.”

Her heart stopped, then started up again. “What did he say?”

A knowing gaze pinned her to the spot. “He kept mumbling, ‘I'm sorry, Tricia.'” A frown creased Sheldon's forehead. “What happened between you and my son?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Sheldon decided to be candid. “Were you the reason he joined the Marines instead of coming home?”

She met his accusing gaze without flinching. “I
don't know why Jeremy joined the Marines. But, if you want answers as to what went on between me and Jeremy, then you're going to have to ask him.”

Sheldon released Tricia's arm. He had many unanswered questions about Jeremy and Tricia's past relationship and he was determined to get some answers. He'd lost his son once, but he had no intention of losing him again.

He inclined his head. “Thank you again for taking care of Jeremy. We'll talk about you and Jeremy later.”

She nodded, and, turning on his heel, Sheldon went to Sean and took his hand. Together they walked back to the truck.

Tricia stood watching uneasily until the departing vehicle disappeared from view.

T
ricia moved closer to Jeremy and held his uninjured hand as he sat on an examining table, while the nurse cut through the plaster cast on his ankle. The whirring sound of the drill set her teeth on edge. The plaster cast would be replaced with one made of fiberglass, but only after the removal of the surgical staples and an X-ray.

She noted the tense set of his jaw. “Are you all right?” she whispered close to his ear.

He turned his head, met her gaze and nodded. Their mouths were mere inches apart. His breath swept over her cheek. “Thank you for being here.” Leaning forward, he brushed his mouth over hers
with the softness of a breeze. There was no intimacy in the kiss, but that did not stop Tricia from reacting to the slight pressure. Unable to move, she felt her pulse race uncontrollably.

She wanted to tell Jeremy that she did not want to be here—with him—because with each sunrise it was becoming increasingly more difficult to sleep under his roof, to wake up and see him and not be affected by the sensual memories of what had been between them.

Jeremy stared at the rapidly beating pulse in Tricia's throat. He had only touched his lips to hers, when he'd wanted to do so much more. He wanted to ravish her mouth. He felt like a starving man craving food or a man dying of thirst needing water. He wanted to kiss her so badly.

He and Tricia could not go backward, yet despite her duplicity and infidelity he still wanted her. It no longer mattered that she had married or slept with other men. In spite of the anguish tormenting him for fourteen years he still wanted her in his bed.

He drew in a sharp breath with the removal of the first staple. A second one followed, then a third. He lost count of the biting sensation after fifteen. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against her shoulder. When the last staple was removed, he was helped into a wheelchair and pushed into another room where a technician X-rayed his hand and foot.

 

Tricia opened the passenger-side door, holding Jeremy's crutches. Moving slowly, he swung his legs around until his feet touched the macadam. She handed him the crutches and he pulled himself into a standing position.

It took him five minutes to make his way from the car to his bed, every step torture. He sat down heavily on the side of the bed and fell back on the mattress.

Tricia stood over him, hands on her hips. “I'm going to give you a pill.”

Jeremy rested an arm over his forehead. “No, Tricia. I don't want it.”

Reaching out, she placed her hand alongside his cheek. “Yes, Jeremy.”

He caught her hand and kissed the palm. “Just let me rest for a little while.”

“Are you sure?”

He smiled, the expression resembling a grimace. “Yes.”

She eased her hand from his loose grip, removed his running shoe and the shapeless boot with Velcro fasteners from his injured foot, then raised his legs to the bed.

“I'll be nearby if you need me.”

“Thank you, Tricia.” He gave her a wry smile. “I seem to be thanking you a lot lately.”

Tricia resisted the urge to kiss him, because at
that moment he appeared boyish and carefree. The way she had remembered him. “Hush, now, and try to get some sleep.”

Grinning, he saluted her. “Aye, aye, ma'am.”

She sat on the club chair, slipped out of her sandals, rested her bare feet on the ottoman and closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Jeremy rarely slept throughout the night and whenever he moaned or cried out in his sleep she left her bed to check on him. She always held him until he settled back to sleep, listening in shock as he mumbled about the horrors he had experienced during his ill-fated mission. These were the times when she felt like a voyeur. Willing her mind blank, she felt her chest rise and fall in an even rhythm, and she fell asleep.

Noise startled her, and she was jolted awake. Tricia sat up and stared at Jeremy. He was talking in his sleep again. She pushed up off the chair and sat on the side of the mattress.

“It's all right, Jeremy,” she crooned softly.

“Forgive me, Tricia.”

She leaned over him. “It's all right, darling. I forgive you.”

“I…I did not want to…to leave…you,” he mumbled, still not opening his eyes.

Getting into the bed with him, Tricia rested an arm over his chest, blinking back tears. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear. Rising on an elbow, she kissed him.

Without warning Jeremy's eyes opened and he stared at her as if he had never seen her before. Tricia's heart beat a double-time rhythm. Had he heard her?

She met his questioning gaze. “You were talking in your sleep again.”

“What did I say?”

She decided to tell him the truth. “You asked me to forgive you.”

He closed his eyes, long black lashes resting on his high cheekbones. “For what?”

She hesitated and he opened his eyes. “For leaving me.”

Jeremy's gaze fused with her dark-brown eyes. “I should've never left you, Tricia, but I took the coward's way out and ran, after Russell told me about the two of you.”

She gasped, her mind reeling in confusion. Was that why he'd asked her if she had slept with Russell? Her breath burned in her throat as she swallowed the hateful words poised to explode from her mouth. They had wasted too many years, and she had lost a child because she'd refused to come back to the farm because of a spiteful man's lies.

“I don't care what Russell told you, but I never slept with him.”

Jeremy's raven eyebrows lifted as he pushed up on an elbow. “He lied?”

“Of course he lied,” she spat out. “Why didn't you ask
me,
Jeremy?”

A muscle quivered at his jaw. If he ever ran into Russell again he would make him sorry he ever drew breath. The SOB had lied to him about sleeping with Tricia.

“Why didn't you ask me?” she asked again.

Jeremy shook his head. He did not have an answer. “I don't know. And don't think I haven't asked myself the same question over and over every time I came back here.”

A look of distress crossed her face. “What hurts most is that you did not trust me. How could you profess to love me when you didn't trust me to be faithful to you?”

He frowned. “Loving you had nothing to do with not trusting you.”

Tricia sat up. “Love
is
trust. You cannot have one without the other.”

There was a prolonged silence before Jeremy said, “Do you still love me, Tricia?”

She felt as if all of her emotions were under attack and wanted to lie. But only minutes before she had openly confessed to loving him.

He had been her first lover, the man who unknowingly had made her a mother. She shook her head. “No,” she said softly, “not the way I used to love you.”

“Do you hate me?”

Smiling, Tricia shook her head again. “No, Jeremy, I don't hate you.”

Sitting up, Jeremy shifted to his right side and kissed her. He inhaled the very essence of Tricia: her smell, the velvet softness of her mouth, the press of her breasts against his arm. He took his time kissing her mouth, eyes and face. She trembled when his lips brushed the curve of her eyebrows.

Tricia opened her mouth to his probing tongue, swallowing his breath. What had begun as a soft, tender joining flowed into a dreamy intimacy she had forgotten existed.

Jeremy eased back, staring at her. “Do you know how long I've waited to kiss your mouth, eyes?”

Her gaze widened. “No.” The single word was whispered.

“Forever,” he whispered back, then took possession of her mouth again.

She emitted a soft moan. “We shouldn't be doing this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm your nurse.”

“That excuse is starting to sound lame,” he crooned, gently biting her earlobe.

Tricia fortified herself against his sensual assault and placed a hand in the middle of his chest. “We can't go back to who we were. Too much time has passed and we're not the same people. I've changed and you've changed.”

Reaching out, he pulled her effortlessly to sit on his lap, her back pressed to his chest. Her legs were cradled between his outstretched ones. “I don't want to go back, Tricia,” he whispered in her ear. “Why can't we move forward?” He tightened his hold under her breasts.

A wave of desire flooded Tricia's body and she melted against the hardness of his chest. “That's not possible.”

“Why not?”

“We don't have the time. I'm only going to be here for another three weeks.”

Jeremy stared at the back of her head. He kissed her nape. “Three weeks is more than enough time.” What he did not tell Tricia was that each hour, minute and second was precious, because he remembered counting down the seconds, minutes and hours while he and the others on his team lay waiting for death.

He wanted Tricia without a commitment or declaration of love. He wasn't ready to risk losing his heart to her again. “I've never asked anything from you, sweetheart,” he continued, unaware that the endearment had slipped out, “not your love or your body. Those you gave willingly. What I am asking for is the next three weeks of your life.”

Tricia was certain Jeremy could feel the flutters in her chest. “What happens after that?”

“Whatever it is you want to happen.”

Shifting on his thighs, she turned in his loose
embrace. His gaze was steady. “I'm leaving as planned on August fifteenth, so whatever we will share up to that time will become a part of our past.”

Jeremy lifted his eyebrows. “Okay,” he agreed. “When it comes time for you to leave I promise not to put any pressure on you to force you to stay.”

Lowering her gaze, she smiled. “Thank you.”

He angled his head and kissed her again. “Will you go out with me tonight?”

She gave him a sassy smile. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Pressing his forehead to hers, Jeremy flashed his brilliant white-toothed smile. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Out to dinner, then we'll take in a movie.”

Tricia chuckled. “I believe we should begin with dinner. Sitting in a movie theater with your leg in a cast is a stretch.”

Jeremy kissed the end of her nose. “I wasn't talking about a movie theater. We can eat out, then come back here and watch a movie.”

He had used the home theater in the family room exactly twice since he'd purchased it two years before. A collection of DVDs stacked on several shelves were still in their original cellophane packaging. Whenever he came home on leave, he stayed in his house because he had come to value his privacy. But it had never felt like home…until now.

Curving her arms around his neck, Tricia rested her head on his shoulder. “You've got yourself a date. I'll call the dining hall and cancel dinner,” she said, and rose to leave.

“And where do you think you're going?” he asked.

“I'm going over to my grandfather's to find something to wear.”

Jeremy chuckled, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “I hope you're not going to wear that yellow dress.”

Tricia gave him a long, penetrating stare. “What's with you and that dress?”

A sensual flame fired his eyes like flints of steel. “Nothing.”

“If that's the case, then I'll wear it tonight.”

His expression changed, becoming tight, strained. “Please don't, Tricia.” He held up his left hand. “I still can't quite make a fist, so I won't be able to punch out some guy for leering at your breasts.”

She sucked her teeth. “I thought you gave up brawling a long time ago.”

“I did. Remember, the only times I got into fights were because of you.”

Tricia ran a finger down the length of his nose seconds before she pressed her mouth to his. “I never wanted you to fight for me.”

“Someone had to protect you.”

“And you did, Jeremy.” She'd lost count of the number of black eyes and bloody noses he had
inflicted on a few of the farm kids. “I wrote in my diary that you were my knight in shining armor. I used to refer to you as Sir Blackstone, the Black Knight.”

He nuzzled her neck. “Do you need my protection now?”

“No,” she said in a quiet voice. “I've learned to protect myself.” She slipped off the bed and put on her shoes. “Please stay in bed until I get back.”

Jeremy's expression was one of faint amusement. He wanted to tell Tricia that he was quite capable of getting in and out of bed without her assistance as long as the crutches were within reach. Already he could groom and dress himself, navigate the stairs and feed himself. He still couldn't drive or walk distances, but, that would come in time.

He winked at her, then rested his head on the pillows and waited for her return.

 

When Tricia arrived at her grandfather's house, his truck wasn't in its usual parking space, which meant he was probably having dinner in the dining hall. The temporary solitude gave Tricia a chance to think about her relationship with her grandfather.

She usually visited with him every morning after Sheldon came to see Jeremy. She'd sit with Gus on the porch in easy silence. In the past, their relationship had been anything but easy. In fact, Gus still did not approve of her involvement with the owner's
son. She wanted to tell Gus there was no need to torment himself about her and Jeremy because in three weeks she would leave Blackstone Farms, her ex-lover and return to her orderly life in Baltimore. However, this time when she left Virginia it would be without the tortured questions and memories.

She went into her bedroom and selected a black linen dress. Black lacy underwear and strappy black sling-back sandals completed her outfit. She showered, dressed, applied a light coat of makeup and set out for Jeremy's house. He was sitting on the porch waiting for her.

Her gaze raced over his off-white linen suit, matching shirt and tie. He wore the shapeless boot with Velcro fasteners and a black loafer. Walking slowly up the porch stairs, her gaze widened in appreciation. The light color of the suit was the perfect foil for his deeply tanned olive coloring.