Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(77)

“Please.”

They dined on the patio, drank wine with their meal and savored a second glass. They talked little. It was enough just to be together. As the sun set and the deer grazed in the meadow, they held hands. Every now and then, Dave would kiss her knuckles.

“I’ve never spent time with a woman like this,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s difficult to explain.” He shook his head as if he hesitated to say more.

“No, tell me,” she urged.

“I should go,” he said.

An automatic protest rose to her lips, but she swallowed it and stood up with him. He kissed her, his arms tightening around her waist.

Carolyn’s body ached for him and she knew he experienced the same intense desire.

His gaze held hers, in it she read pain and regret.

“Does it bother you that I own the mill?” she asked.

“The truth is, I wish you didn’t.”

“Why?” The mill was part of who she was, her heritage. Bronson family blood flowed through that mill and she was the third generation to manage its operation. One day she’d be forced to sell it because the Bronson line ended with her, but she wasn’t ready to think about that yet. She had too many goals left to accomplish.

He shook his head again, unwilling to answer.

“It doesn’t bother me that you’re who you are,” she said, knowing she sounded defensive. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It…it doesn’t matter.” She broke away from him and carried their empty plates into the kitchen.

Dave followed with the wineglasses. He took the dishes from her and set them on the counter. Carolyn’s eyes locked with his and she nearly wept at the sadness she saw in him. Tentatively she raised her hand to his face. Her heart was pounding so hard, it felt loud enough to bring down the walls.

“I knew this wouldn’t work,” he said. “I tried to tell myself I’d do whatever was necessary to be with you. Damn the gossip, damn the speculation.”

Carolyn was afraid of where this was leading. He was going to pull up stakes and leave Colville, and she couldn’t bear it if he did. Her life had never felt empty until she’d met him. Now the emptiness was there anytime he wasn’t.

Rather than allow him to continue speaking, she slipped her arms around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers. To her surprise and delight, she met with no resistance.

Dave took control of the kiss, his desire so strong it threatened to consume her. She grabbed his shirt collar, needing an anchor, something to hold on to while her senses went wild.

She gasped when Dave released her. They stood just inches from each other, their breathing harsh and ragged.

“The truth is, Carolyn, I am who I am and you are who you are. I’m basically an itinerant laborer, while you own the most important business in the area. I live in a second-hand camper, while you live here.” He gestured around him. “People will talk. They are already. You think there’s anyone in Colville who doesn’t know about us? They all do and the things they say are going to hurt you. I won’t let that happen.”

“But—”

He gripped her shoulders to stop her. “I’ll put in my two-week notice tomorrow.”

“No!” Without a job, he’d do what he’d always done and simply drift away.

It seemed for a moment that he’d reconsider, but then he shook his head. “I’ll find another job. Somewhere else.”

“How will you support yourself until then?”

“I have very few expenses. I’ll be all right.”

“I don’t care who knows about us!”

He touched her face gently. “I care. I won’t have you talked about around town.”

She knew he meant what he said. Throwing her arms around his middle, she hugged him. “I feel so selfish and guilty for wanting to be with you.”

He stroked her hair and held her close. “I want to be with you, too. I won’t leave you yet.”

“Promise?”

She felt his smile against the side of her face. “Promise,” he whispered.

When the time came, she’d let him go; she had no other choice. But she had to believe her love would draw him back.

CHAPTER 33

Wednesday morning, Susannah found herself wishing she could leave Colville, go home, be with her husband.

She’d done a lot of thinking since she’d talked to Joe. He’d called again last night, and they’d spoken for more than an hour. He’d reminded her of her feelings earlier in the summer, of her restlessness. She’d never divulged the dreams she’d had about Jake and how the memories had returned, haunting her sleep and then later her conscience. As for Jake, she hadn’t found him and didn’t care if she ever did. He was probably living under an assumed name. It was much easier to create a false identity back in the early ’70s than it was now.

Never had she thought that in seeking Jake, she would learn what she had about her brother—if it was true. She still couldn’t make herself believe Doug had been dealing drugs. That would have devastated her father. Devastated the entire family.

She could certainly visit the sheriff’s office and ask a few questions. Although all of this happened more than thirty years ago, the county would have kept the records. Surely they’d be online.