Beyond Desire. Gwynne Forster

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      “Marcus.” He looked up in response to her gentle touch. “I’ve brought us a little something to eat.”

      “What time is it?” She told him, and watched helplessly as the color drained from his face.

      “She’s so little. What could they be doing to her all this time?” Amanda risked draping an arm over his shoulder as she sat beside him and handed him a paper container of coffee.

      He glanced up at her. “Thanks.” Encouraged, she passed him a ham sandwich. He bit into it.

      “Have you been here all this time? Wouldn’t you think they’d have enough feeling to come out and tell me something? It’s my child in there.”

      “Have faith, Marcus. You hired a team of the best physicians in the country. Isn’t it good that they’re taking their time and doing it right so she won’t have to go through this again? I know it’s tough, but it can’t be much longer.” As she spoke, she let her left hand move gently over his broad shoulders, circling and patting him, in an offering of support. He seemed barely aware of it. She talked on, keeping her voice very low and soft, trying to soothe him. It wasn’t difficult. He seemed to be hurting too badly to rebuff her tenderness and caring.

      An hour and a half later, huddled together with Amanda’s left arm around Marcus and her right hand grasping his right forearm, they didn’t see Luke as he approached. “How’s it going? Any word, yet?”

      Marcus shook his head. “They’re still with her.” He knew that Luke loved the child and was as glad as he that she would have the chance to be like other children again. He felt the comforting arm around him and settled into it, neither caring nor wondering why it was there. He needed it. No words passed between them until finally the doctor appeared, still wearing his surgical greens.

      “We’ve done all that we can. The rest is up to God, the therapists and Amy.” Marcus didn’t want to hear that and, at his profane outburst, the doctor assured them that she would be as good as new if instructions were followed to the letter.

      “May I see her? I just have to see that she’s all right.” The doctor’s assurance that she was all right, but asleep and in intensive care, didn’t satisfy him.

      Marcus turned to Amanda. “I’m going to stay here until I see her. You go on home. And drive carefully. Ocean Avenue was very slippery this morning.”

      Amanda didn’t want to leave Marcus, but she did as he asked when Luke promised her that he would remain with his brother. She shopped at the supermarket and had just turned into her lane when she saw a stray kitten, the worst for having been in the heavy morning downpour. Amanda didn’t like pets, because she thought that animals should be free. But she couldn’t bear to see a being suffer, so she took the kitten and her groceries in the house, dried the weak little animal, fed it and put it in a padded basket. She changed her clothes and started dinner, but the kitten cried until she gave it her attention. Marcus arrived several hours later with Luke to find her lounging in an oversized living room chair with her bare feet tucked under her trying to calm the little creature.

      Luke paused in the doorway, as though fearing to intrude further; the sight of this adult woman lovingly stroking a kitten while singing it a lullaby, albeit out of tune had dumbfounded Marcus. Luke turned to his brother, intending to remark on the drollery of that bizarre little scene but, one look at him, and the words died unspoken in his throat. With her head bowed and her voice low and sultry, Amanda sang softly, slowly stroking the little cat. Marcus’ eyes sparkled rustic fire, his lips were slightly parted, his face open and filled with emotion. Luke knew that he had never before seen this Marcus, this man smoldering with desire. And he didn’t doubt that Marcus wanted to exchange places with that kitten. What a pity that Amanda didn’t see her husband’s face!

      As if she sensed their presence, Amanda looked up, her eyes locking with Marcus’ heated gaze. Luke watched as she caught her breath and lowered her gaze, flustered; surely his brother must see that Amanda was vulnerable to him, aware of him as a man. He shook his head sadly; she was a tender, gentle woman, but would Marcus give up his cynicism and allow himself to see that? He didn’t hold out much hope for it.

      Marcus stood rooted to the spot, speechless, remembering how she had held him, caressed and soothed him while he had waited in agony for news about Amy’s surgery. And ingrate that he was, he told himself, he had repaid all of her caring with rudeness. He hadn’t even wanted Luke to come home with him, hating to dignify his circumstances by sharing his temporary home with his brother.

      “How is she?” Amanda’s obvious embarrassment as she managed to break the silence aroused his compassion.

      “She recognized both of us.” Marcus banked the desire raging in him and tried to smile, but he was so shocked at his unexpected reaction to Amanda that he managed little more than a grimace. “She’s bandaged from her hips to her toes, and she’s heavily sedated, but the worst is over.” He walked slowly over to her. “Thanks.”

      “For what?”

      “For being there when I needed someone.”

      She smiled. “You would have done the same for me.” She turned to his brother. “Luke, you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner. I cooked with you in mind.”

      “No need for that; we’ll go out,” Marcus said, still unwilling to accept the place as his home and unable to hide his concern for his status there. He saw that Luke’s sympathies were with Amanda when his brother shook his head, and he could almost read Luke’s mind, could almost hear him saying for the nth time: “It’s time you let go of the past and stopped nursing the hatred and bitterness that you’ve wrapped yourself in ever since Helena betrayed you.” Well, I’m the one wearing these shoes, not Luke, he told himself.

      Luke scowled fiercely at Marcus, then smiled at Amanda. “I’d love to stay for dinner, Amanda. I get enough of restaurants.” Marcus knew that Luke didn’t care how much he fumed; Luke took the commandment about justice and mercy seriously, even when it wasn’t in question.

      “I want to find out what kind of cook my sister-in-law is.” Marcus wasn’t fooled by the remark; it had been intended to please Amanda and to put her at ease. If it made him furious, Luke didn’t mind. He watched Amanda put the kitten in the basket and start toward the kitchen. But when it was deprived of her body warmth, the little animal cried, and Amanda stooped to take it into her arms.

      “When did you get a cat?” Marcus asked. He wasn’t fond of cats. More accurately, he disliked them. Amanda explained how she got it and that she planned to take it to a shelter on Monday. A picture of Amanda nursing her baby, coddling it and loving it flashed through his mind’s eye; that child was a lucky one. His Amy hadn’t had that kind of loving from her mother. Could he deny her the sweetness, the loving acceptance that Amanda would shower on her? He glanced at the woman he’d married and couldn’t believe that he hadn’t previously noticed her café au lait complexion and large wistful black eyes. Heart-stopping eyes. Cut it out, man, he admonished himself.

      Amanda went on to the kitchen, through the long hallway and past the dining room, wondering why not having a cat around had pleased him so much. He didn’t want them to get too close; she was sure of that. But when he had needed her, she’d had a glimpse of the man without the veneer, without the antiwoman armor that he wore either naturally or for her benefit, she wasn’t sure which. A minute earlier, he’d silently told her that she was in some way special. He confused her. She sensed that Luke was different, more open. When she met him at her wedding, she knew at once that he was an easier, gentler СКАЧАТЬ