The Winter Lodge (25 page)

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Authors: Susan Wiggs

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Adult

BOOK: The Winter Lodge
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“We should go,” he said. “They’ll be waiting for us.” He headed for the door without looking to see if she followed. He stood there, holding it open. She glared at him, torn between feeling turned on and rejected. He glared right back, and didn’t budge from the door. She took one more look around and then marched outside and down the steps, and she kept going while he closed the place.

He caught up and walked fast, as if in a hurry to get away from her. The fireworks were over and the moon was high as they made their way back to the path along the lake.

“You’re mad at me,” she said. No point in pretending it hadn’t happened.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“You are. I can tell. You’re giving me the silent treatment and your eyes are all squinched up.”

He stopped walking and sighed heavily. “My eyes are not squinched up, and I’m not mad.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, now I’m mad,” he said.

“I knew it. See, I was right. So now you have to tell me why.”

“Because you called me a liar.”

“I mean before that.”

“Before that, I…this is stupid. I’m done talking about it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at her. Shadows cut deep across his face.

“You’re not mad because you kissed me,” she said. “You’re mad because you liked it.”

“I like girls, so sue me. And anyway, if you already know everything, why do you keep talking about it?”

“Because I’m trying to understand, Rourke.”

“It’s not hard,” he said.

She lowered her gaze. “It’s Joey, isn’t it?” she said softly.

“He’s been trying to figure out a way to ask you out since the beginning of summer.”

She knew that. On some level, she was aware of it. “I might not want him to ask me out.”

“Why wouldn’t you? He’s great.”

“Maybe I like somebody else.” The words slipped out, whispered like a scandal.

He gave her a hard look. Outlined by the moonlight, he appeared large and menacing.

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“Great. Thanks for the advice.” She covered her pain with sarcasm. It was, from every possible angle, an impossible situation. There was no way she could be with either boy without hurting the other. No, that wasn’t quite right. Nothing could hurt Rourke. He wore a hard shell of emotional armor, galvanized over the years by his father’s cruelty. He knew how to protect himself. But Joey didn’t, even after two years in the army. Sweet, sensitive Joey didn’t try to protect himself at all.

“What took you guys so long?” Joey called. He was waiting out by the staff pavilion, where the party was in full swing.

“Nothing,” Jenny said, and realized she was on the verge of tears. She ducked her head, hiding her face. If Joey got a good look, he might guess she had just been kissed to kingdom come. “Where’s Nina?”

“She took Sonnet home. I told her Rourke and I would give you a ride later.”

Great. Ditched by Nina, and forced to spend the rest of the evening here.

“Let’s go inside,” Rourke muttered. He, too, seemed to be avoiding Joey’s eyes.

Jenny had only been to a few parties at Camp Kioga. Mostly, they were one big mosh pit with loud music thumping from blown speakers. The lights were dim, but somehow, three girls noticed Rourke right away and drifted over, swarming him like groupies around a rock star. As she watched, he seemed to turn into a different person, with a smooth, consciously sexy smile and an easy manner as he slid his arm around one of the girls and moved onto the dance floor.

The girl he chose was wearing a short skirt and tank top so tight the hardware on her bra was visible.

Jenny must have let all her hurt and confusion show on her face, because Joey came over and touched her arm. “Let’s go outside.”

As she left the party, she threw a glance over her shoulder—just in time to see Rourke watching her, as if to make certain she’d seen what he was doing. And what was he doing, anyway? Trying to convince her she was wrong to like him? If so, it was working. That ought to make him happy.

“Don’t worry about Rourke,” Joey said. “Sometimes he acts like a jerk for no reason.”

Oh, I gave him a reason,
she thought.

“It’s hard on him, you know? The way he grew up.”

She couldn’t help smiling. Joey always seemed to believe the best of everyone. Things would be so much simpler if she and Joey…Could you talk yourself into loving someone because he seemed so right?

Jenny did her best. When Joey called to ask her to a movie, she readily accepted. She invited him to the house, and watched with a softening heart the way he and Gram got on. A series of TIA strokes had impaired Gram, but Joey didn’t focus on that. He didn’t shout at her as if she was deaf (she wasn’t) or talk to her as though she was a moron (she wasn’t that, either).

Instead, he treated her with dignity and respect, and when he was around, Gram took on a happy glow. Jenny loved the way he treated Gram, as if she was his own grandmother.

Bruno Santini came to visit one weekend. Spending time with him, she understood exactly where Joey came from—a place of love and acceptance. He treated his grown son with unabashed affection and pride, and didn’t hesitate to open his heart to Jenny and her grandmother. “You’re the prettiest girl Joey’s ever introduced me to,” he said.

“Pop, she’s the only girl I’ve ever introduced you to,” Joey pointed out.

In August when the weather grew so hot that even the crickets fell still, Joey hung a two-seater swing on the front porch and he and Jenny would sit there late at night, gently swaying, hoping for a breeze. Jenny was beginning to think she’d never move away from this house. After Grandpa died, she still held on to the dream, but when Gram had her first stroke, that was it for Jenny. She was staying. Gram needed her. They were companionable roommates and made the best of the situation. Since Gram couldn’t do stairs anymore, they converted the downstairs den to her bedroom and Jenny had the entire upstairs to herself. Sometimes she pretended it was a loft in SoHo, but then the crickets would start up or a coyote would howl, and she’d remember: she was in Avalon.

“It’s so nice here,” Joey said, his arm slipping around her.

Jenny smiled at the irony of it. “My thoughts exactly.”

“I’m going to miss you so much,” he said softly.

“Are you afraid?” she asked.

“Nervous, I guess. But scared?” He smiled. “I know this next tour of duty’s going to be more intense because I’ll be a ranger, but it doesn’t scare me.” His smile faded. “But…leaving you. Now, that scares me.”

“Why would it scare you?”

“Because everything feels so good right now, I don’t want it to change.”

She paused, took in a breath of the heat-heavy air. “Everything changes. We both know that.”

“But if we were together, we’d change and grow together.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I know, I’m crazy. You might go chasing off to the city and turn into a stranger.”

She laughed, too, even though his comment bothered her. “I’m not going anywhere. Gram needs me here. You have to understand, Joey, I’ll never leave her.”

He leaned over and touched his lips to her forehead. “She’s lucky to have you. And so am I.”

In that moment, Jenny felt like the lucky one. There was a nearly full moon riding high in the sky that night, and its silvery light slipped over him, illuminating a face that had become precious to her. What a gift it was to have someone like this in her life, someone who loved her without question, whose chief worry was being separated from her.

For the rest of the month of August, Rourke watched Joey and Jenny growing closer. He tried to be happy for them but, failing that, settled for acting as though he didn’t care. He ran around with girls from the camp, drank too much, slept too little and avoided his best friend. And somehow, finally, summer was winding down. He was starting to count the days until he, Joey and Jenny would go their separate ways.

The week before Labor Day, the traditional staff field day was held. Counselors and workers at the camp would compete in various events, egged on by the campers. Rourke’s event was tennis, and he easily won the preliminary rounds. In the final round, his opponent was Joey.

Great, he thought. Just great. He’d be fighting his best friend for the title. Even worse, Jenny had come to watch. He could see her sitting with Nina in the bleachers. Jenny was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and drinking a glass of lemonade, and even from a distance, he could hear her laughter.

With his opening serve, he knew what this was going to be—a punishment. Every shot was designed to punish Joey, which was so stupid because Joey was his best friend. Joey was also a good player, having shared lessons and practice sessions with Rourke as they were growing up. But Joey had the girl, and Rourke had nothing but his temper and his powerful tennis game, which he used without mercy. This was an all-out battle. He drove Joey around the court until he could see the sweat pouring down his friend’s face and body, saturating his clothes. He creamed him two sets in a row, lured him up to the net and then lobbed him. In the end they shook hands over the net, but Rourke didn’t even look at Joey.

Rourke took possession of the trophy—a silver-plated cup—but as he stood there holding it, Joey walked away with the girl. To Rourke’s surprise, Philip Bellamy came over to congratulate him. He was the eldest son of the camp owners and a friend of Rourke’s parents, which made Rourke immediately suspicious.

“I held the title myself one year,” Mr. Bellamy said, “back in 1977.”

“It’s, uh, quite an honor, sir,” Rourke said.

Mr. Bellamy looked over at Joey, who was standing in the shade with Jenny. She had taken off her sun hat. Joey had a towel slung around his neck, and he was earnestly talking to her. “Who’s that?” Mr. Bellamy asked. “The girl, with your opponent?”

Rourke shrugged, as if he didn’t care. “Some girl. Name’s Jenny, I think. Why do you ask?”

“She reminds me of someone, is all. Someone I used to know.” Philip glanced over at him.

“Someone I used to look at the way you’re looking at her.”

“I’m not—”

“Of course not,” Mr. Bellamy said. “I once made the mistake of letting a girl go without a fight. To this day, I wish I hadn’t.”

Although he didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, the suggestion haunted Rourke.
Tell
her,
said a voice in his head.
Just tell her the truth, because the truth never hurt anything.

Tell her, before the chance slips away.

At summer’s end, Joey left for Phase 1 of Ranger School in Fort Benning, Georgia. He wasn’t even able to stay for the closing ceremonies at Camp Kioga. Jenny knew it would be eight weeks or more before she would see him again. He’d called from the pay phone up at Camp Kioga to let her know he had something to ask her, and something to tell her. She suspected she knew what it was, and didn’t quite know how she felt about it. When he came to tell her goodbye, she was inexplicably nervous.

“I’ll walk over to the train station with you,” she said, meeting him at the back door of the bakery.

He shouldered his duffel bag and slipped his free arm around her. Over the summer, Joey had let his thick, wavy black hair grow out, but he still had a soldier’s physique, fit and muscular.

“I still can’t imagine you as a rifle ranger,” she said.

“That’s what my dad says.”

“You’re too…peaceful, I guess. Too nice.”

“That’s why my first tour was in protocol in D.C., I guess. I’m ready for something else this time,” he said. “Some action.”

“I can’t believe they’re going to train you to kill people.”

“They’re going to train me to do a lot of things,” he said. “To survive and serve my country, among other things.”

She immediately felt contrite. He was doing this for his education, for his future. She had no right to question him. “I know. I’m sorry. You’re going to do great and they’re lucky to get you.”

“Nice to know somebody thinks so. I’ll try to remember that when I’m screaming for mercy during training exercises.” He stopped at a bench outside the entrance to the station.

“Hold up a minute, will you?”

The area was beautifully manicured, designed to welcome visitors to Avalon. Tall elm trees and sugar maples formed an archway over the main walk, which was flanked by flower beds. By August, the dahlias and delphiniums looked spent and exhausted. A few drying leaves swirled on the breeze, a reminder that autumn would soon be here. A small flock of crows circled overhead, then alighted noisily in one of the trees.

“I need to ask you something.” Joey set down his bag.

She stopped walking and glanced around, not sure what she was looking for. All she saw was the town where she’d lived her entire life, the shop fronts and groups of tourists milling around the main square. Then she faced Joey. There was an intensity in the way he was looking at her, and something else, something she couldn’t escape, even if she’d wanted to—love. Joey loved her. She could see it in the way his eyes lit when he gazed at her, and in the tender turn of his smile, a special smile just for her.

“I want to marry you, Jenny,” he said without preamble.

Marry?
Her mouth went dry and her throat closed, and she couldn’t speak. Probably not the reaction he was looking for. There was so much going on inside her—elation that here was somebody unafraid to declare that he wanted to spend his life with her. But there was fear, too.

He trusted her with his heart.

He didn’t seem bothered by her silence. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small box she recognized from Palmquist’s. “I know we can’t do anything right away, but I got you this.” He wore an adorable, bashful smile as he opened the box to show her a slender gold ring with a single, tiny diamond solitaire in the middle. “It’s the best I could afford.

I hope you like it.”

“I do, Joey. I—”

He bent and kissed her then, and she felt safe in his embrace, as though nothing could ever hurt her. She could hear the arrival of the train from the north. It hissed to a halt and a whistle sounded. The startled crows exploded into the sky on a burst of black wings.

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