The Reunion (16 page)

Then, suddenly, in a perverse turn of events, Bern Baxter forced open a back door and staggered into the hall. He immediately spotted Ethan, who had just turned from the trophy table and was walking across the dance floor. A few people at the front of the hall noticed Bern and told their friends. Soon everyone looked, and a hush came over the crowd. It was obvious that he had consumed too much liquor and was in a foul mood. No one there was eager to confront the huge, intense man.

“Hey, boy!” he called, loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear.

Ethan turned, saw him, and his eyes flared. But then he glanced at Ebony and knitted his brows in confusion. Everyone was dumbfounded, and many people, knowing the history of these two men, expected Ethan to make a headlong charge, and for a vicious fight to ensue.

“Where’s his wife?” Ebony heard the master of ceremonies say to a woman.

“Lydia’s in their car out in the parking lot.”

“Get her.”

Bern strode directly to Ethan and stood five feet away from him. He stared at Ethan in an attempt to intimidate the younger man, but Ethan never flinched. He looked back with cold, steely, fearless eyes. Though Bern was a larger man, Ethan was big in his own right, known from childhood as someone possessing inordinate strength, a gift from his mother’s bloodline, and as a man who was quick, incredibly powerful, and a formidable fighter.

A woman from the audience ran up and grabbed Bern by the arm. “Come on, Bern,” she pleaded. “No one wants this.”

He turned to her with a ferocious glare. If she had any influence over him in the past, she had none now, and she knew it. She returned to her chair, passing several men sitting in a group and muttering.

“Do something,” she urged them.

“They have to settle it to clear the air,” said one. “Otherwise it will go on forever.”

All eyes returned to the two men squaring off on the dance floor. Bern removed his coat and dropped it. His upper body was huge and thick. The knotted, tattooed forearms, the bulging biceps, the hair sticking out of his shirt at the top of his abnormally thick chest, the girth of his neck, everything about Bern Baxter spoke of elemental power, like an enraged bull in the ring.

“He never stopped brooding over the night Ethan beat him,” Jenny said to Rebecca, glancing at Ebony. “He just can’t let it go.”

Bern, his face flushed, moved forward. The muscles in his arms twitched as he rolled his hands into two bony fists. His massive chest rose and fell, his whole form emanating hatred. He stood nose to nose with Ethan, and all eyes were glued to the two men. Not one person said one word. They watched in mute fascination, waiting to see who, if anyone, would take a backward step.

Bern spoke right into Ethan’s face. “I was drunk out of my skull the night you whacked me. I’m not so drunk tonight. So does ya think ya can do it again?”

“I don’t want to fight you,” Ethan said.

“Coward!” Bern exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Put your hands up and defend yourself, because I’m gonna knock yer head off, coward.”

A woman in the crowd started crying, shouting for someone to stop the confrontation. Everyone turned to her, a few men stood but did not advance, and then all eyes returned to the two men. Bern raised his brawny fists, and his face grew purplish red. Ethan, to everyone’s shock, suddenly turned his back to Baxter, stared right at Ebony, and began slowly walking toward her. She stared back, her eyes glued to the man she loved.

“Defend yerself, coward!” Bern shouted, his anger increasing by the second.

Ethan kept walking away.

For a split second, it seemed Bern was in such a rage he might actually hit Ethan from behind, but his expression suddenly changed. He looked around the hall with a confused expression, and his eyes fell on Bill, the respected fisherman whose father had worked with him on boats for twenty years. Bill took the cue and walked up to him. Everyone in the hall watched. You could have heard a pin drop.

“It’s over, Bern,” Bill said, lightly putting his big, gnarled hand on the angry man’s shoulder.

At that moment, Bern’s pregnant wife, holding an infant in her arm and clinging to the hand of their young son, appeared in the doorway. Bern looked at her, glanced at Ethan, looked about awkwardly, and seemed to be in suspended animation. His wife walked up to him, put her hand in his, and led him out the door. People watched him, but avoided direct eye contact and said nothing.

Ethan seemed to be walking in a haze toward Ebony’s chair. He leaned over her shoulder. “Can we go?” he whispered emotionally, as if wishing he could just disappear. “Everyone is staring at me.”

All eyes shifted to him, studying his every movement.

At this point, the master of ceremonies tried to revive the gaiety. “How about the winners’ waltz, folks?” he asked with false enthusiasm.

The crowd cheered tentatively.

“Can we leave?” Ethan again whispered to Ebony, a frantic tone in his voice. “Please. Everybody is looking at me.”

“No,” she said, standing.

He whispered through gritted teeth, his face red with embarrassment, perspiration beading on his forehead. “Please, can we go?”

“No.”

“Why?” he whispered insistently.

“Because a bet’s a bet.”

Rebecca and Ron were suddenly standing beside them. Ron smiled at Ethan and patted him on the back as the first notes of music filled the hall. Ron led Rebecca to the middle of the floor, and they started to dance. Ethan stood there as if unsure what to do, but Ebony gently clasped his hand and led him, all eyes on them. Once they were beside Ron and Rebecca, she held her body against him.

The lights dimmed into a soothing darkness, and Ebony clung tightly to Ethan, resting her cheek on his chest. His whole body shivered with scorched pride. But Ebony stroked her fingers across the back of his neck and pressed her body deeper and deeper into his twitching muscles. As they swayed to the music, Ebony sank into a semiconscious state where everything disappeared, everything except the delicious sensation of warmth and security. This sensation heightened to a point where she felt as if she was drifting into a dreamlike world, a world where their minds and bodies approached a feeling of oneness, a total indifference to everything but each other. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

Then the face of that woman Ebony had seen on the embankment loomed in her mind and jolted her out of the magic moment. Who was she? Why had she stared like that? Perhaps the woman didn’t even exist and her mind had been playing tricks. The woman might have been a vision, an omen. Yes, that was it. She was afraid of falling in love with Ethan again, and her mind had created the vision to scare her away from him in some kind of subconscious defense mechanism. But it was too late to avoid falling in love again. Much, much too late.

Her doubts and fears faded. Ethan embraced her tightly and pressed his lips to hers in a deep, absorbing kiss. She melted into him, flowing like a river into the thirst of his love. Their lips, smooth and moist, slid over each other’s in a deliciously numbing motion. They kissed with passionate abandon, as though trying to compensate for all those years of loneliness and separation.

Loud clapping jolted them back to reality. During the kiss, the lights had been turned up, and everyone had watched them. Ron and Rebecca, leading the applause, smiled heartily and escorted their friends back to the table.

“How long have the lights been on?” Ebony whispered, looking down and away.

“Just a few seconds,” Rebecca answered with a wink. “That was some kiss, girl.”

An evening of merrymaking and laughter followed. Ethan became incredibly relaxed and friendly, speaking to people with an ease Ebony had never seen before. The more open he became, the more the men gravitated toward him. Ebony received special attention, too. The women doted on her. Some admired her, some envied her, but most, even the men, were simply caught up in the romance of her reunion with Ethan.

“My,” a woman from the church said to Ebony when she was alone, “you and Ethan are having a grand time.”

Ebony winked at her.

“I think it’s splendid for both of you,” the woman continued. “Heaven knows he’s ten times the man he used to be. And I believe you’re responsible for that, young lady.”

She smiled at the compliment, but later that evening, when Ethan was driving her home, that strange woman’s face again flashed in her mind.

“What’s wrong?” Ethan asked, pulling into her driveway. “You seem distracted.”

She turned to him. “Is there anything else I should know, about your life in Europe, I mean?”

“Nothing I haven’t told you,” he responded.

“You were gone for five years. If there was a woman you loved, I have a right to know.”

“The only woman I ever loved is you.”

“Would you like to come in?” she asked when he stopped in her yard.

“No,” he said, an enigmatic tone in his voice.

He opened the door for her, kissed her good night, then drove down the hill. Ebony walked into her house and sat down.

Why do I have to be so suspicious?
she thought.
Will I ever be able to truly trust him?

As if by divine decree, seconds later, a car pulled into the yard. But when she opened the door, her smile instantly disappeared. Standing there in gleaming jewels and fine clothes, looking radiantly beautiful in the lamplight, was the mysterious woman Ebony had seen at the race. Only now, when standing face-to-face, did Ebony definitely conclude that the woman wasn’t a fantasy, but flesh and blood.

“Who are you?” Ebony stammered, a sense of foreboding choking her voice.

The woman stared at her with icy eyes.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

The woman seemed almost too angry to speak, but she breathed deeply and gathered herself. “My name is Cassandra Vaccaro.”

“What do you want?”

“You have something that is mine.”

“What could I possibly have of yours?”

“Ethan Harrington,” Cassandra said, “is my fiancé.”

Chapter Eight

Ebony fell into a chair, as lifeless as a rag doll. She felt sick to her stomach, and the room started to spin. It seemed as though she had been caught in a whirlpool and was being drawn into it against her will. She fought, trying to find a way out, but the vortex irresistibly pulled at her. Cassandra kept talking, but only scattered words registered in Ebony’s foggy mind.

As Ebony became lucid again, she understood she was the victim of a second betrayal. She had loved and trusted Ethan, but now, just at the moment when she was most vulnerable, when her heart was presented to him unprotected, he, for a second time, smashed and destroyed the very essence of her being. The old pains and anguish rose up within her, but this time they stung with a new bitterness, a bitterness directed not only at him, but also at herself for accepting a lover who had already crushed her once. She had not learned her lesson.

The old saying sounded in her mind: “Make a fool of me once, shame on you. Make a fool of me twice, shame on me.”

“Ethan obviously never mentioned me for the same reason he never mentioned you. Apparently he enjoys playing romantic games with women.” Cassandra checked her lipstick in the mirror. “He’s quite gifted.” She thrust forward her hand, a huge diamond on her slender finger. “He gave me this almost a year ago, but on March nineteenth, he just disappeared. All he left me was a note that he slid under my door.”

Ebony winced.

“I only discovered where he was,” Cassandra noted, “after he called me a few days ago and pleaded with me to forgive him. He said he still loves me.”

When Ebony heard that Ethan loved Cassandra, she closed her eyes and bowed her head. She was utterly exhausted, as if she had just run a grueling race, one she had desperately wished to win, only to lose at the very end.

Cassandra removed her coat and sat opposite Ebony. “At that silly boat race today, I heard people talking about you and Ethan. It amazed me to learn how he had run out on you just as he ran out on me.” She looked at Ebony with compassion. “I would feel terrible at having imparted this news to you except for the fact that it is Ethan, and not I, who is to blame. He betrayed us both. But, for all his failings, I still love him and am willing to forgive this indiscretion. Therefore, I hope you will not stand in my way. Ethan is obviously attracted to you, but he is my fiancé, and I plan to go through with our wedding. I trust you will step aside, not for my sake, but for your own. Having been deceived twice, I am sure that any love you held for Ethan must surely be ended.”

Ebony raised her tear-filled eyes and gazed at the woman who had shattered her dreams. Cassandra was a true beauty. Her face, highlighted with perfect makeup, was flawless in every feature and line. But in the feline cut of her eyes, in the fine, soft curves of her mouth, in the high forehead and noble cheekbones, in every one of Cassandra’s physical characteristics, Ebony saw something unnatural, something not right. Diamond earrings dangled and sparkled, gold bracelets and rings abounded, and, clasped around the unblemished pale skin of her neck, a fine chain, fixed with valuable gems, rested on the creamy whiteness of her prominent cleavage. The tone of her skin contrasted sharply to the brilliant blackness of her hair. Flowing like a gleaming waterfall, Cassandra’s hair poured in waves over the seductive roundness of her shoulders. She recalled the form of a Greek goddess. Her entire body seemed to be carved from pure, smooth stone. Even her legs, exposed by a high slit in the front of her dress, invoked the image of cold, sculpted marble.

“I know this must be difficult for you,” Cassandra said, lightly touching Ebony’s hand, “but Ethan is mine, and to lose him now, so close to the wedding, is a blow neither I nor my father could bear. You must step aside.”

“I don’t feel well. Please leave.”

“Leave him, and I will leave you.”

“No, I will not leave him.”

“After all he’s done? After all the humiliation and shame, don’t you have any pride?”

“I do, but I love him.”

“It doesn’t bother you that he’s engaged to another woman?” Cassandra cried incredulously.