Familiar Stranger In Clear Springs

“A picnic?” She was charmed. Then she realized she’d never seen him in a boat. “Do you know how to row this thing?”

“I’ve had a trial voyage. Practiced a good five minutes.”

“And I can trust that we won’t capsize?” she said.

“With my life, miss. I won’t let you go under.”

“Well, that is encouraging, Corporal.” He was a good swimmer. She’d spied him once with a few other soldiers in a race across to North Island.

“No whitecaps. The water is smooth this evening.” He frowned at her then as if remembering himself. “Didn’t I say no questions?”

She smiled, enjoying the teasing. “And I’ll be back at a respectable hour?”

“Absolutely. Your reputation is my main concern.”

“Imagine that.”

She was quiet after that and leaned back against the boat, enjoying the tug and glide of the boat that hinted at Tom’s strong muscles as he pulled on the oars. The evening breeze cooled her skin—now so much cooler than it had been all day. She sighed, contented with how the day was ending after the unpleasant start with her brother and Preston.

“So, we are celebrating something. Hmm. Is it your birthday?”

He shook his head.

“That’s a relief. If it was, that would mean you shared it with my brother.”

“At the sour look on your face, I’m suspecting that that would not be good.”

“Definitely not good.”

“And you are asking questions again.”

“Well, you are always so quiet about yourself. For instance, besides not knowing your birthday, I know nothing about your family. Do you have sisters or brothers? What about your parents?”

He stopped rowing and let the boat glide. “I did. They’re gone now. My father was a sheriff in Tucson. My mother ran the house and painted landscapes, but mostly took care of her two men. No siblings.” He pulled on the oars again. “And that is all you are going to get for now. We have a celebration happening.”

In his short, clipped response she’d noticed his use of past tense. She had the distinct feeling that she would only dampen the mood by pursuing more information about them.

They reached the shore of North Island and Tom jumped out into the shallow wash. He tugged at the boat, scraping it up on the sand until she could alight without getting herself wet. He assisted her first and then grabbed the wood.

They didn’t really need a fire considering the day’s warmth, but it did make the picnic more special. A jackrabbit raised its head and stared at the flames for a second and then hopped away. She spread out the blanket on the beach and sat down. From here she could see a few whitewashed buildings in Old Town and also in La Playa. The strong smell of kelp that had washed up on the sand traveled on the breeze and mixed with the scent of burning wood from their fire.

Tom retrieved the picnic basket from the boat and plopped it onto the blanket. He sat down beside her and a spare grin slanted across his face. The small fire crackled and sparked, warming her face and hands, the light flickering and dancing in his gaze.

Her heart fluttered nervously. This was the most alone she had ever been with him. She felt safe, of course, but she also felt an intimacy unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Before, they’d been surrounded by other soldiers or her friends from church. This was different. His slightest shift of position, his gentle tug on her shawl to pull it back into place on her shoulders, all seemed so much more special alone like this. She placed her hands in her lap and waited.

“I was promoted today,” he finally said. “I am to be Corporal First Class under Lieutenant Cranston. We are going to be honed into a special team.”

A glow of happiness for him filled her. “But this is wonderful! It’s what you’ve always wanted! You’ve been waiting for this to happen.”

He beamed self-consciously. “It was taking them so long to notice that I thought they had passed over me. They said they liked my sharpshooting and the fact I can tell the good guys from the bad guys.” He tilted the basket her way, offering her first pick of the chicken pieces.

“I imagine it is a wonderful opportunity.” She hesitated a moment, thinking about what it might entail. “And perhaps dangerous?”

“Just about any other assignment is dangerous compared to this quiet post.”

“Your father would be proud,” she said tentatively, hoping for a little more insight into who Tom Barrington was.

“I hope so.” He seemed to contemplate her for a moment, then looked back at the fire, concentrating on the glowing flames. “I’m not the lawyer he wanted. Once he was gone, we couldn’t afford school. But I’m doing something that will make a difference. Something that will bring justice.”

When he said the word justice, the look on his face made her pause in taking another bite of food. He looked determined—and in a way almost vengeful. Her eyes burned with the quick welling up of tears. She reached over to squeeze his arm. “He would like that,” she said softly.

A soft orange sunset fanned across the sky and colored his skin with a deep tan. He swallowed hard, staring at her hand. “The minute I heard, all I could think about was telling you. That’s all that mattered. You look... You take my breath away, Elizabeth. Every time I see you...from that first day in the store.”

She blushed, aware of a similar feeling every time she looked at him. Handsome, broad-shouldered and tall—the sight of him did fascinating things to her insides.

“Are you still seeing Preston?”

Dismayed at the change of subject, she let go of Tom’s arm. For some reason, she couldn’t meet his gaze. “He comes by. Lately it seems that Terrance monopolizes his time more than I do. My brother hangs on his every word. I heard them scheming up a new business venture just this morning.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Instead of paying attention to you? He’s a fool.”

“No,” she said with a tolerant smile. “He’s a nice man, but sometimes I wonder what drew me to him in the first place.”

“Money. Prestige. Those can be powerful.”

“At times I feel that I am just a proper decoration on his arm,” she blurted out, and then stopped talking. Whatever was going on was between her and Preston? She wasn’t engaged, but she had the feeling he was heading in that direction. It was just his way to be methodical and sure. Unfortunately, that made her feel as if she were one of his business acquisitions.

“But you love him.”

She stopped short, surprised Tom would say such a thing.

At her hesitation, a slow, warm smile broke across his handsome face. He tilted his head slightly to the side, studying her. “Good. I wanted to be clear about that.”

Her heart began to pound. She was unable to look away, captured easily by his gaze. She gripped tight to the ends of her shawl and wrapped them closer. “Wh...why?” She felt as if she were slipping down a deep chasm.

He shifted his hips and moved closer. “Because I don’t like competition.” He splayed his fingers on her upper back, drawing her toward him. Firelight flickered in his eyes and suddenly she was much warmer. He had never kissed her before, although sometimes he had looked at her and she knew he wanted to by the way he studied her mouth. That look made her pulse race, but this...this was so much headier. His lips touched her skin beneath her ear in a soft, warm kiss. Slowly he trailed his lips to her neck under her jaw. He paused for a second—which to her seemed like an eternity—and then with purposeful intent, his gaze still on hers, he pressed his mouth against hers.

The horizon seemed to tilt on its edge and for a moment her breath ceased movement in her lungs. She flushed all over—and then, as she exhaled, a sigh of contentment followed.

“I want to be first in your life, Elizabeth,” he murmured against her lips. “I need to be first.”

“You are,” she breathed, albeit a bit shakily. First kiss, first...

Apparently that was all the encouragement he needed. Tom deepened the kiss. The sparks and crackles from the fire blended into the touch of his mouth as light exploded through her. He teased the seam of her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth.

Now a new sensation careened through her. Her pulse raced and she melted into a puddle of fire and feeling. She’d never experienced anything so all-consuming. Her bones turned to butter, soft and pliable. She gripped the brass buttons on his uniform, drawing him nearer, reveling in his strength. She feathered her fingers through his hair at the base of his neck, cupping her palm on his warm skin. She wanted him closer.

“Ah, Elizabeth. Had I known...” he murmured into her ear, sending delightful shivers throughout her body. He circled her with his arms and pressed her gently to the blanket.

The first shards of impropriety pricked her conscience.

She froze, tense.

He stopped kissing her immediately. “What is it?”

“We need to stop.” She pushed against his chest. When he moved away, she wiggled away from him. Sitting up, she dragged in a big breath and adjusted her shirtwaist and skirt. Her skin felt hot and tingly—and she knew it was not from the picnic fire.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Shaken, she wanted to say. Shaken beyond anything she’d ever felt—at him, at herself. “I’m fine. Perhaps, though, we had best start back.”

He sat up, took a deep breath and raked his hand through his hair. For a moment it seemed he wanted to say more but he only nodded and then began returning the napkins and dishes to the wicker basket. He popped up to his feet and carried the basket to the boat.

When he came back, they shook out the sand from the blanket.

“The wind has come up,” he said. “You’d better wrap this around you.”

He helped her into the boat, tucked the blanket around her gently and shoved off, rowing back across the channel as the purple twilight faded away into night. Stars sprinkled the sky with pinpoints of light all the way to the horizon at the sea. He was so quiet. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Her own thoughts were in turmoil. Was it the same for him?

“Tom... I...”

“It’s all right,” he reassured her. “I should get back to my barracks, too.”

In town, the road was a gray ribbon in the twilight, leading out of town. Shadows darkened the boardwalk in front of the store. Across the way, Mrs. Flynn turned up the wick on the lantern in her parlor, letting the light shine out through her front window and onto the road.

At the mercantile’s door, Elizabeth turned to him before going inside.

He pushed aside a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Something new shone in his eyes...a tenderness she hadn’t noticed before. She wondered if he could see the same thing in her. She raised up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Congratulations on your promotion. I’m so proud of you.”

He stopped her from pulling away with his hands on her shoulders and drew her back to him, wrapping his arms around her once more. “I don’t want to let you go.”

She huffed out a breath. “You have to. They’ve already played taps.”

“I know,” he breathed into the crook of her neck.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He looked at her and the intensity she saw in his eyes overwhelmed her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” she whispered. Over the summer her feelings had grown stronger with every innocent moment they’d shared. And now all pretenses to deny her true emotions evaporated. She loved him—and wanted him to know it. “I love you, Tom Barrington.”

At her confession, he hesitated a moment, and then bent down to kiss her long and thorough. She closed her eyes, absorbing the warmth of his lips, enjoying his soft touch.

“I’m on duty tomorrow, but I’ll come afterward.”

She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. It was a promise. “Tomorrow.”

That had been the last time she saw Tom...until now.

It was painful to ponder what had happened all those years ago. She had blurted out her feelings and the thought of it embarrassed her now. Tom had gone to seek his future and never wrote, never tried to contact her. He’d obviously enjoyed the summer on the water and then moved on. It was futile to wish things had been different. He hadn’t cared enough to stay—or ask her to go with him.

She tightened her jaw. It may have taken a while, but she had learned her lesson well. She would not be making a fool of herself again. Not ever.

With surprise, she realized that people in the pews surrounding her had risen and were singing the ending hymn. Quickly she rose and joined in, hoping no one had noticed her lack of interest in the sermon.

* * *

After the service, Elizabeth descended the whitewashed steps of the church, while at the same time tying her straw bonnet ribbons under her chin. The day was sunny but cool, so she tugged her heavy ecru shawl about her shoulders and then glanced toward the hotel. On the wide porch stood her brother, nose to nose with Sam Furst in what appeared to be a very heated discussion by the way Terrance was using his hands and leaning into the conversation.

Tall and thin, with dark brown hair and eyes the same as hers, it was nonetheless curious how different Terrance was from her. They might look similar and both have ambitious natures but that is where it ended. Her brother’s personality veered vastly different from hers. Even his sense of humor was nothing like hers. Where she preferred witty anecdotes and puns, his tended to the coarse and at times rather banal. She certainly didn’t understand him. He glanced over just then and noticed her approach. Straightening, he waved impatiently for her to hurry up.

She eyed the disgruntled expression on his face. Whatever the topic between him and Sam, he certainly wasn’t happy with what he was hearing. It looked as though he was more than ready for her to join him.

In the hotel’s restaurant, her brother chose a favorite table in the center of the room. She had asked him once why that particular table and he answered that Preston had once recommended it. It was so that he could see and greet people all around him at nearby tables. Sitting near the wall would give him only half the area. She suspected an opposite motive—he wanted people to notice he was there. Plus, a few times she’d been aware of him eavesdropping on conversations at nearby tables. She’d thought to caution him on it, but then held her tongue. It wouldn’t do any good to say something. He wouldn’t listen to her, anyway.

As she settled into the chair, smoothing her midnight-blue dress over her knees, a man with a thatch of dark brown hair at the table just beyond Terrance caught her eye. She inhaled sharply. Tom sat not ten feet away—alone with an empty plate and full cup of coffee in front of him. He tipped his chin up, acknowledging her, his gaze steady and unnerving as always.

She realized, suddenly, what was different about the way he looked from last night. He had shaved and put on a fresh shirt, so that now without the scruffy beard she could clearly see the contours of his face. He had definitely matured—not an ounce of boyish flesh that she remembered remained. Everything about him signaled strength and manliness. Tiny lines fanned out near each eye—the kind that happened from laughing a lot or perhaps squinting in the sun. She rather thought it was the latter. It wasn’t fair that he had grown even more handsome since the last time he’d been here.

When Terrance eyed her with a curious expression, she smiled a bit too brightly, distracted as she was by Tom’s presence. One moment she wished he would just disappear and the next she hoped he would come join her. How could he sit there so casually oblivious to all that they had been to each other? Of course, it no longer bothered her. It happened too long ago and she had learned...oh, yes...she had learned from it. The others in the restaurant would not be getting an eyeful today.

Apparently her brother hadn’t noticed Tom. Considering how things had gone in the past between the two, it was probably a good thing. And as it was none of her business why Tom was in town, and he obviously wasn’t here to visit her, she had best ignore his close proximity other than to be pleasant should the need arise. With concerted effort, she turned her attention to her brother, who, she realized, was dressed particularly sharp. In the next second, she realized why.

“A new suit?” she asked. “From Marston’s? Does this mean you have decided to run for the city commerce board?”

“I thought about what you said a few weeks ago. You were right. If changes are to be made that will affect my business, I want to be in on the decision-making.”

She had encouraged it only to keep him from pressing her about moving to the city with him and helping him with his business—a discussion that surfaced more and more often now that his business was up and running. She hoped instead that he would marry and start a family. If she wasn’t going to have a family of her own, at least she would be able to dote on nieces and nephews.

A serving waitress stopped by their table and took their orders. Dinner consisted of yellowtail fish and boiled parsley potatoes—a staple and one well-liked by the Sunday crowd. She pushed her food about her plate, taking a bite now and then while Terrance droned on about the Chinese abalone and shrimp fishing going on in the area. She could barely concentrate on what he was saying. Each time she looked up, she couldn’t keep from glancing beyond Terrance, and each time Tom was watching her. She lowered her gaze immediately, but still felt a flush of warmth rise on her cheeks. He simply filled the room with his presence.

“The supplies you ordered have arrived,” Terrance said. “They’ll be on the Wells Fargo Stage for the Tuesday run.”

Her brother’s words registered after a moment. “The supplies?” She had ordered them months ago. “That’s wonderful. I received word from Gemma just this week. The schoolhouse is nearly finished.”

She toyed with her china cup, smoothing her finger around the rim, hoping Terrance would go along with her plan to visit Gemma. She could just imagine the delight on her friend’s face when she first opened the crates of supplies and she wanted to be there to see it. Terrance didn’t like change—especially change that he didn’t instigate and might affect his income in any way. He would shove a laundry list of reasons at her why she shouldn’t go, and since half of the store was his, he did have a right to be a part of the decision. “As a matter of fact,” she said, “I would like to visit her...and take her the supplies myself.”

Terrance paused from stuffing a forkful of slaw into his mouth. Slowly he put his fork down. “I don’t see that that is necessary.”

She leaned forward. “I’d like to be there when she first sees everything. I want to see the expression on her face.”

“Just who do you expect to watch the mercantile? I certainly can’t.”

She pressed her lips together. Of course that would be Terrance’s first concern. Always practical. Always economical. But he had a valid point. Who would watch the store? And there was her cat to consider. Left on her own, Patches would be easy game for coyotes.

She tapped her fingers on the tabletop, considering her limited options. “Otis Ferriday? Mrs. Flynn?”

With a wave of his hand, Terrance dismissed those two suggestions as unsuitable.

“Why not? What wrong with one of them? Mrs. Flynn has even availed herself of the order sheets and dusting once or twice when I wasn’t feeling well.”

He ticked them off on his fingers. “Otis Ferriday is older than dirt and just as rumpled. He doesn’t instill trust. Mrs. Flynn will gossip with everyone who stops in. We’d lose business because of her overactive tongue.”

She sat back in her chair, stunned to hear him speak so harshly right out in the open where anybody could hear. She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I cannot believe you said that here in front of everybody! These are my neighbors! Besides hurting business...it is rude!” They were his former neighbors, too.

His expression of disdain let her know that her shock didn’t faze him. “Is Miss Starling even expecting you?”

“Well...no. But that’s part of the fun. I...”

“Then it won’t matter if you delay until things are better planned,” he said, interrupting her. “You can’t travel alone, and as you know I am too busy to accompany you, especially for such a frivolous trip.”

Elizabeth frowned. Here she was just barely warming up to the idea and her brother was dashing cold water on it. She wouldn’t want him along, anyway, with such an attitude.

“I will be perfectly safe on the stagecoach. It is only one long day’s travel. I would stay for a week at most. I’ve not had a holiday since...” She stopped short. She hadn’t had a holiday—not a real one—since taking on the mercantile full-time after their father died.

Terrance pressed his lips into a thin line. “Elizabeth. You haven’t thought this through. You do realize my appointment to the city council will occur in four weeks. I could use you in the city, helping run things at my store there. Besides, a trip is just too expensive right now.”

“This from the man who just bought a new suit,” she hissed. But perhaps he was right. They would have to pay someone to watch the store and it sounded like Terrance had been counting on her help. She sighed. She hated to let him down. Maybe it was poor timing. It began to feel that way now.

“Why is it even necessary? A note, along with the crates, will suffice.”

“I was the one who rallied the community and gathered the money for the school supplies. I was the one who ordered them. I want to be the one surprising Gemma.” Maybe it was selfish, but that was how she felt. As the sinking realization that she really shouldn’t go settled over her, she pushed away from the table, no longer interested in finishing her meal.

Her mother’s dying wish was that they do their best to keep the family together. She and Terrance had both held Mother’s hand and promised, but lately Terrance made it so difficult to keep that promise, especially when he stubbornly refused to budge on certain issues.

The excitement of only a moment ago evaporated as quickly as it had occurred. She placed her napkin beside her plate. “Thank you for the dinner...and for seeing to the supplies. I suppose whether I’m there or not, Gemma will still be happy to get them.”

Terrance pulled his money clip from his inside vest pocket, preparing to pay the bill. Behind him, Tom moved his head slightly, drawing her attention until she met his eyes. Wonderful. He probably overheard the entire conversation. Wouldn’t that be just perfect?

Without preamble, he pushed his chair back, making a loud scraping noise, and stood, unfolding until he towered over the both of them. He took a minute to meet Terrance’s gaze before settling on hers. “I don’t mean to interrupt your meal, but seeing as how you are done, I’ll say hello.” The corner of his mouth came up in a spare lopsided smile that did funny things to her inside. “Didn’t get that far yesterday.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Barrington,” she said, feeling her brother’s scrutiny as she spoke.

“Well, well,” Terrance said in his smoothly oiled voice. “This is a surprise. What brings you to town, Barrington?”

Tom broke eye contact with her and faced her brother, the half-smile dissolving into a thin, straight line. “A job.”

Then his gaze slid right back to her. Heat flared in her cheeks. She was sure every set of eyes in the restaurant must be concentrated on them. What in the world did he want?

“Then you won’t be in town long?” Terrance asked.

She felt the press of her brother’s hand against the small of her back, signaling it was time to go. Curious how Tom would answer him, she planted her feet firmly in place.

“I haven’t decided. It depends on a few things.”

“Sorry we can’t stay and join you,” Terrance said, pushing her more insistently.

“That’s all right. I actually prefer to eat with friends.”