Family Stories. Tessa McDermid

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      After dinner, he accompanied Reverend Cooper to the parlor while the women finished clearing the table. The older man withdrew behind his Bible. Frank sat on the edge of the sofa, his fingers silently drumming on the armrest. Did he want a permanent job working in a feed store? Wouldn’t have to be forever, he told himself. There was nothing to tie him to this town.

      When the women came into the room, Mrs. Cooper brought out some sewing and settled in a corner. Marian wandered over to the narrow window. She pulled back the heavy drapes.

      “Mother is famous for her garden, ” Marian said.

      Her father lowered his Bible. “Mother does work wonders with her flowers. Marian, take Frank for a turn around the garden.”

      They walked out of the parlor and down the back hall. Once outside, he took a deep breath.

      “They’re not that bad, ” Marian said.

      “I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles all through dinner, ” he confessed.

      “You were nervous?”

      “With good reason. Your father just kept me on my toes. He’s a very sharp man, Marian. I didn’t know what he was going to ask me next.”

      She led the way into the little garden area. They were behind the house, away from the parlor windows.

      She stopped near a rose bush, idly touching one of the pink petals, her back to him. “Did you mean that about staying, Frank? Are you really going to interview for a job?”

      She had left her hat in the house. The soft breeze ruffled her loose curls. Her skin seemed to reflect the bright colors of the flowers, and his breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful.

      He had to get away so he could think clearly. He stumbled onto the path and started walking in the opposite direction. When she called out his name in a dismayed voice, he didn’t stop, breaking into a run as he left the path and entered an unplowed field. He finally slowed near a clump of trees, leaning his head against the nearest one, gulping in the fresh air.

      Still trying to catch his breath, he heard her footsteps behind him. “Frank, what’s the matter with you?” she asked in a breathless voice.

      He bit his lip, unable to face her; he didn’t move until he felt a timid touch on his arm.

      “Frank, please, what’s the matter?”

      He turned then and saw his confusion mirrored in her eyes. With a strangled sob, he put his arms around her, pulling her close. Her arms slowly crept around his neck. When she lifted her face, he kissed her.

      She tasted of cinnamon apples and sunshine. His eyes closed and he probed her lips with his tongue, wanting to taste more of her.

      Her hands pushed at his chest. “Please, Frank…”

      Fear sounded in her voice. Cursing himself for forgetting that she was an innocent, he raised his head. “Marian, ” he said thickly.

      She traced the side of his cheek with her fingertips. “Why did you kiss me like that?”

      He almost chuckled at the childlike wonder in her question. He rested his forehead against her silken curls. “Because you drive me mad.”

      “I do?”

      A hint of womanly pride edged into her voice. He bent down, gently nipping her nose with his lips. “Yes. Does that please you?”

      She giggled. “I’ve never driven a man mad before.”

      He pulled away from her until he could gaze into her eyes. “Marian Cooper, you probably drive every man in this town wild.”

      Her lashes fell but not before he saw the swift gleam of satisfaction in them. “How could I?” she asked softly. “I’m the minister’s daughter.”

      He felt an urge to swat her behind. Instead, he pressed a hard kiss on her lips. “That’s exactly why, you little minx. It’s enough to drive any normal man crazy.”

      “I’ve never wanted to drive a man crazy before.”

      The implication in her quiet words acted like a tonic on him. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging her off the ground. This time her lips answered his silent pleas and parted under his kisses, letting him taste the fullness of her mouth, her tongue meeting his again and again.

      His breath ragged, he slowly lowered her to the ground and knelt beside her, his hands still on her arms. Her mouth was bruised from his kisses and he bent down, gently kissing each swollen lip. “Marian, I’m sorry. I should never have done that.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because you’re so young.” He dropped his hands and rocked back on his heels, hands lightly clasped behind his back so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her. He wished now that he hadn’t been with all those other women, that he could offer her a body as innocent as her own. “I won’t be staying, after all. I can’t control myself around you.”

      “Why should you?” she asked in a whisper.

      He turned away, jamming his hands in his pockets. “Marian, I’m somebody new and different. I’ve brought a little variety into your life and when I leave, you’ll forget all about me.”

      She grabbed his sleeve, her touch forceful. “Frank.”

      He turned again, surprised at the passion in her voice. “Yes, you are different. But I’ve never kissed a man like I just kissed you, Frank Robertson, or felt any desire to do so. Do you have any idea what the last three days have been like? I didn’t know if you’d return. And I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you didn’t.”

      She tossed her head, the curls that had been loosened by their kisses fluttering around her face. “I don’t want to live without you, Frank. I love you.”

      He grabbed her wrists. “You can’t love me, Marian. You don’t know me.”

      “I know enough.” Her lips curved upward and she leaned toward him. “Kiss me, Frank, kiss me and tell me you don’t feel something, too.”

      “That isn’t love.”

      “Kiss me.”

      Her insistent command pushed him to the brink. He took her by the shoulders, dragged her against him, his blood pounding as his chest collided with her soft breasts. She murmured against his lips and the action sent him into a frenzy of longing. They sank to the ground, his hands searching for the buttons on her dress, only half-aware of her hands tugging his shirt out of his waistband.

      Her skin felt cool. She stiffened when his fingers slid over her breast and he hesitated until she arched against his hand. Her fingernails began a delicate dance under his shirt, trailing patterns over the bare skin of his back until he could hardly breathe.

      “Marian…”

      She СКАЧАТЬ