Family Stories

“Marian…”

She pressed her fingers over his lips. “Don’t say anything, Frank. Just love me, please.”

Her hand found its way to his thigh, moving slowly upward. She hesitated at the front of his trousers. He caught his breath, waiting. Her fingers were light, sending tremors through his entire body. His body threatened to explode under her caresses and he forced himself to slow down, to savor each glorious moment.

He touched one peaked nipple with his fingers and heard her answering moan. When she shifted, he slid his hand under her skirt, edging the sturdy material up until he felt the soft skin of her thigh above her stockings. She ducked her head against his shoulder and he nuzzled her with his chin until she lifted her head and he could reach her lips again.

His fingers skimmed her leg, the skin heating beneath his hand. “Oh, Frank, ” she breathed in wonder.

No woman had blossomed under his hands like she did. The others had been eager for him, willing to open their bodies to relieve a temporary boredom, to find a new experience. But Marian had never been with a man before; he knew that as surely as he knew he was embarking on an unparalleled adventure of his own.

His fingers stilled, his conscience awakened by the knowledge that she was a virgin. As if drugged, he lifted his head and surveyed her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Marian, we need to go back to your house.”

Her hands clutched him around the waist. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

He heard anguish in her voice and quickly kissed her lips. “No, darling, no. But this isn’t right.”

“I love you, Frank.”

His heart turned over at the words but he wouldn’t take her virginity in the middle of a field. She deserved candlelight and flowers, a soft bed, privacy.

And another man…His conscience jabbed him again. Who are you, anyway? A traveling salesman who’ll go off and leave her after your own passion is sated.

The cold water of reality doused the remnants of his passion. He slid away from her, tucking in his shirt and climbing to his feet.

“Frank?”

He reached out a hand without looking at her. “Marian, we have to go. I don’t need your father coming after me with a shotgun.”

She sprang to her feet. From the corner of his eye, he could see her smoothing down her skirt, brushing away grass and leaves that had attached themselves during their aborted lovemaking. “I’ll bet if Flossie were here, you wouldn’t have stopped.”

He gripped her shoulders. “Don’t compare yourself to Flossie, ” he snapped. Her eyes were a deep midnight blue, the passion only slightly masked by her anger.

Her eyes narrowed. “So, you did notice Flossie.”

“Marian…”

She swung out of his hold. “She’s been with every man in town, Frank. Do you want to be another in her long list?”

She looked so brave, with her chin in the air, her eyes narrowed. And so young. His anger melted away, swallowed by his chuckle at her defiant manner.

“No, Marian, I don’t. But that’s exactly why you shouldn’t compare yourself to her. She’s not fit to be in the same room with you.”

Mollified, she let her chin drop a fraction. “Then why did you stop?”

A wave of tenderness washed over him. “You’re too young—”

“I am not!” She took his hand and held it to her breast. “I’m a woman, Frank.”

His passion threatened to engulf his common sense again and he shifted away. “Marian, I should never have come out here with you. This was wrong. You are too young and I won’t take advantage of your innocence this way.”

“I’m not too young, Frank. I will never feel like this about another man. I know that and nothing you can say will change it.”

Her fingers were fumbling with her buttons. He swore, swiftly closing the gapping material himself. Tears glistened on her lashes. He barely stopped himself from bending down and kissing them away. “Marian, you’re so beautiful and young. One day you’ll meet a man who will make you forget all about me, except as some long-ago memory from a summer’s day.”

“Stop it.” She pushed his hands away, then planted her hands on her hips. “Stop talking about me as if I were a child! And stop treating me like one.” She caressed his cheek. “Frank, believe me. I’m old enough to listen to my own heart. I love you.”

His hands circled her wrists. “Marian, you don’t even know me, ” he said with increasing desperation. “I don’t have any money and I don’t have a job.”

“Father promised to help you get one. You could settle down here and—”

His quiet voice interrupted her. “I’m not the kind to stay anywhere for very long, Marian.”

She stared at him, eyes unblinking, then twisted out of his grasp. “I see.” Without looking at him, she smoothed down an imaginary wrinkle on her skirt. “Well, before you go, explain something to me. Why did you stop? I was in your arms, willing to be plucked like a ripe pear.” He winced at her description but didn’t say anything. “Wouldn’t your buddies have liked hearing about the minister’s daughter and how easily she fell under your spell?”

“Marian, I wouldn’t tell anyone else about us.”

Spots of color stood out on her cheeks. “Please, Frank, don’t add to my embarrassment by lying.”

Miserable and ashamed, he didn’t speak right away. He had bragged about his conquests to the other salesmen. On the trains, late at night, they’d laugh about the lonely women they’d met, sharing stories and sometimes even addresses.

He wrenched his thoughts back to the woman in front of him. Tearstains streaked her face but she still managed to retain her dignity and beauty, standing before him in anger and defiance.

“You never had any intention of settling down, did you? You just let Father talk. Were you planning to catch the next train out of town after you were finished with me?”

“Marian, I never intended any of this to happen.”

She stepped away from him, her shoulders hunched protectively. He stretched out one hand and let it fall back to his side without touching her.

How could he tell her about his conflicting emotions? He’d never wanted anything except the lure of the road until last week, when she’d opened the door. But what did he have to offer a wife?

A wife! Her father’s probing questions came back to him. Did he want to get married? Could he marry someone like Marian and be faithful?

His own parents toiled long, silent hours side by side at the family store, tied together through habit. He thought of the Coopers. Mrs. Cooper barely spoke two words without looking at her husband for approval. Reverend Cooper hid behind his Bible.

Head thrown back, he tried to find the answers in the sky above him. A trio of white clouds broke up the monotony of the blue sky, dashing forward in a steady line. A breeze brought Marian’s sweet scent toward him.

“Marian…”

She faced him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You might see me as a fool, but I’m not. Before you say anything, I suggest you leave this town before people find out what you tried to do with the minister’s daughter. And on a Sunday, too!”

He knew then what he had to say. He might be the fool but he couldn’t walk away from her. No matter where he wandered, he would crave her lips, her body, her very presence. Until he extinguished the fire she’d ignited in him, he would feel no relief.

He caught her hands. “Marian, I’m sorry, ” he said quickly. “Not for what happened earlier, ” he added when she twisted to get out of his hold. “For being such an insensitive clod.”

She stopped struggling, watching him closely. “What do you mean?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “The last three days have been hell for me, too.”

One corner of her mouth lifted and the dimple played in her cheek. “I didn’t say that. Father would wash my mouth out if I used language like that.”

“Then I’d kiss away the bad taste, ” he murmured, showing her how thoroughly he would do that.

When he raised his head, the color in her cheeks signaled a return to the passion they’d shared earlier, and his resolve to wait for a more romantic place warred with his rapidly growing desire. His resolve won by a tiny fraction.

He touched his forehead to hers. Eyes half-closed, she smiled at him, a slow, languorous smile that threatened the uneasy peace he had gained. “Don’t, ” he groaned.

Her lips drooped into a frown. “What?”

He trailed one finger down her cheek, wrapping a curl around it. “Miss Cooper, you are enough to try the patience of a saint.”

“But you aren’t a saint, ” she said with a saucy grin.

He tugged on the curl. “No, and you should remember that.”

Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck. “I do, ” she said in a husky voice.

“Marian, stop it!” He tugged at her wrists, holding her firmly away. “We need to go back to the house. Now.”

“But, Frank…”

“No, Marian.” He headed in the direction of the house, her hand tucked inside the crook of his arm, warm against his body. “I won’t be chased out of town by an angry father. And if we don’t return soon, that’s exactly what will happen.”

In the shadow of a large oak tree, he paused to check their appearance. With an objective eye, he straightened the collar of her dress, smoothed her wild curls behind her ears. He brushed his fingers lightly over her cheeks, wiping away a last tear. She shifted her head and planted a soft kiss on his palm.

His hand seemed to burn at the contact. “Marian, you can’t do this.”

She nodded. “Once we’re home, I’ll behave like the decorous young woman my parents expect me to be.” She turned to him with shining eyes. “But I could sneak into your room tonight—”

He groaned and seized her hand, almost running down the road with her. “Not another word, Marian. I’ll find myself locked up in jail for trifling with you—or worse, tarred and feathered and run out of town on a rail.” He drew her back onto the road.

She giggled. “They haven’t tarred and feathered anyone since some salesman came into town last spring, trying to sell us all some worthless tonic. Not sure why, though. His tonic made the women want to rip off their clothes—”

“I’m warning you, Marian.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

A quick glance at her showed that she wasn’t the least bit sorry. He struggled against a strong urge to spin her around in the road and kiss her until her teasing expression was again replaced with one of desire. The house loomed before them and he rejected the image of her warm in his arms, releasing her hand and slowing to a more sedate pace as they came in view of the windows.

“You will stay, won’t you?” she asked, a foot poised above the bottom step of the back porch.

“I’ll stay, ” he promised.

He followed her up the steps, admiring how her skirt clung to the rounded curves of her bottom and the gentle sway of the material as she walked down the hallway. Her parents still sat in the parlor, their positions unchanged.

“Did you enjoy your walk?” her father asked, looking at them over the top of his Bible.

“Yes, Father, we did.” Marian sat down with a soft rustle of skirts and picked up a sewing box next to the couch.

“So, what’s your opinion of our fair village?”

Frank sat down opposite Marian before replying. “I didn’t see much of it, sir, but the weather’s very fine.”

“You’ll discover that this is a most delightful place, ” Reverend Cooper said. He rested his large Bible on his lap and rubbed his chin. “I was thinking, Frank, that after we see Bates in the morning, we could go by Widow Bartlett’s house.”

“Widow Bartlett?” Did the reverend want to find him a wife as well as a job?

“She mentioned that she hopes to take in a few boarders. You seem like a respectable young man. I’m sure the two of you can work out a sensible agreement.”

From the color that rose in Marian’s cheeks, Frank deduced that the widow Bartlett was a young woman. He lifted one eyebrow in question and when Marian glared at him, he had his answer. This town was filled with pitfalls.

And the most dangerous was sitting right across from him.

He excused himself, saying he needed to fetch his bag before supper. When Marian gave him a worried look, he smiled and watched her settle back on the sofa.

Once he’d retrieved his bag from the barn, he considered striding into the night and putting the Cooper family behind him. Even if Marian did cry herself to sleep for a few nights, she would forget him soon enough.

As he hesitated at the edge of the village, the scent of a rose floated toward him and he felt again her arms around his neck, her soft lips pressing against his. With a moan that startled several birds in the tree above him, he turned toward town and the Coopers’ house.

Supper was a quiet meal, cold leftovers from lunch served by a silent Mrs. Cooper and a still-glowering Marian. Reverend Cooper kept up a monologue based on his readings of the afternoon. He obviously didn’t expect anyone to respond to his observations. Frank found his mind drifting, returning to the conversation with a jerk when Reverend Cooper asked him a pointed question about his family.

“Two sisters, sir, one older, one younger.” Frank sipped from his glass, waiting for the next comment.

“Sisters. I have a younger sister and four younger brothers.” Reverend Cooper shook his head with a reminiscent smile. “She never let us intimidate her, though. Like my Marian here.” He touched a loose curl on Marian’s shoulder, his expression filled with pride.

Frank held back a shudder. This man loved his daughter but more than that, she was a prized possession, if that proprietary look was anything to judge by. The reverend might welcome a passing traveler into his home for a meal, even offer to find him work. All of that would be in keeping with his spiritual calling. But he would not easily give away his only daughter to that same man.

Frank suddenly felt hot and surreptitiously mopped at his forehead. He was relieved when the meal was over, so he could escape to the room under the eaves.

After bidding everyone good-night, he climbed the stairs, shutting the guest-room door with a thankful sigh. It was simply decorated, with the barest of necessities, dominated by a large bed in the middle. He turned back the heavy blanket and sighed happily. Clean sheets! He didn’t often have a bed at night. Now and then, he slid between the sheets of a bed with a housewife or a maid left alone in the house but seldom at night and never for very long.

He pushed such images away. Marian was in the room next to him. He could hear her moving around, making her own preparations for sleep. The vision of her smooth skin, naked beneath his hands, made him groan and he stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed, pulling the pillow over his head and ignoring the sounds from the room beside his.

He met Reverend Cooper on the stairs the next morning. “Sleep well, my boy?”

“Yes, thank you.” Frank had finally settled into a dreamless sleep, waking only once at the howling of coyotes nearby.

“We’ll have breakfast and then I’ll take you to see Adam Bates.”

The reverend was as good as his word. Adam, the middle-aged, rough-hewn owner of the feed store, studied Frank for a few moments. “If Reverend Cooper vouches for you, you’re fine by me, ” he said, extending his hand. “You can start tomorrow.”

“I could start this afternoon, ” Frank said. He needed hard work, something to keep his mind and his hands busy—to distract him from the minister’s daughter.

Adam Bates leaned against the counter and nodded. “Fine, after lunch then.”

Widow Bartlett had a room available in her narrow house. She was a tall, slender woman with a weary smile and even wearier eyes. Frank smiled politely when she showed him the common living quarters and he accepted her terms. With the money he made from the feed store, he’d have enough to begin saving.

For what? he asked himself as he carried his bag to his new home. He had thanked the family for their hospitality and promised to be a visitor one day soon. Marian had stood behind her mother, eyes aglow. He’d needed every ounce of control to keep from staring at her.

In his new room, he unpacked his meager belongings, his mind still on his change of plans. He’d never considered his future before. He enjoyed the different towns he visited and the freedom he had to leave them.

He sank down on his new bed. The bedsprings squeaked. The mattress wasn’t as soft as the one in the Coopers’ guest room, but it was his room. He hadn’t been in his own place since his departure from his parents’ house five years earlier.

The work wasn’t hard. Adam Bates kept him until only a thin sliver of the sun was left in the sky. Jamming his hat on his head, Frank walked back to his new home, ready for a hot bath and a long sleep.

He ducked his head under the water and washed the dirt and grime off his body, whistling tunelessly as he did. Marian said she loved him but what could she know of love, young as she was, stuck in this little town? No one could really love someone after such a short time together. The idea was preposterous.

Maybe she was exercising her ability to charm men with nothing more than a smile. Was she practicing on him so she could entice some young man in the village who was her main objective?

Dressed in his slacks and a clean shirt, he went down to the kitchen, hoping his dinner would fill the suddenly painful hollow in his stomach.

Chapter 3

He soon adjusted to the easy pace of the village. Every Sunday, he dressed carefully in his new suit and marched down the road to the white church. While his sole interest in attending lay with the minister’s daughter, he found himself paying more attention to her father’s sermons every week.

After the service, Marian and her father greeted the congregation while her mother disappeared, presumably to fix the noonday meal. Frank didn’t receive another invitation to the house but he didn’t mind. He often ate his Sunday meal with his boss and family; it was easier to relax under the roof of the boisterous Bates family.

He’d just started his second week in the village when Marian came into the store with her father. “How are things going?” Reverend Cooper asked.

“Fine, sir.” Frank didn’t glance toward Marian, afraid that his emotions would show in his eyes. His heart pounded under the canvas apron he wore and he swallowed to relieve the pressure in his throat.

Satisfied that his good deed was still producing positive results, Reverend Cooper sat down on a stool near the front of the store. Mr. Bates took a stool opposite him and soon they were engaged in a lively discussion of politics, the weather and the state of the country.

Dismissed, Frank returned to his work, stacking bags of grain near the back wall. He almost dropped one when he heard Marian’s soft voice behind him. “I’ve missed you.”

He swung around, the bag clutched in his hands. “Marian, what are you doing?”

He peered quickly around. Tall sacks of grain separated them from the two men, and he could hear their animated conversation, but it was only a matter of time before her father started looking for her.

“I miss you, Frank.”

Her forlorn voice pulled at him. Setting the bag down between them, he framed her face with his hands and tilted it up until he could see her eyes. “I’ve missed you, too, ” he whispered. “But we can’t meet here.”

“Then where? You never come to the house and I can’t go to the widow Bartlett’s by myself.” She sniffed loudly, then let her breath out in a long sigh.

When he chuckled, her eyes flashed. “You think it’s funny that we can’t meet?”

He bent down and kissed her on the lips. “No, I think your playacting is funny.” At the mutinous look in her eyes, he kissed her again, a hard kiss that left them both breathless.

“Frank, what are we going to do?”

When her shining face tipped toward his, he knew he was lost. He wouldn’t call it love but he couldn’t imagine living without her.

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll come up with something, Marian.” At the scraping sound that signaled the stools were being pushed aside, he nudged her toward the front of the store. “Until then, trust me.”

The tremulous look she gave him was full of trust. No one had ever regarded him that way before. His chest swelling with pride, he flung a bag to the top of the pile, her tempting smile urging him on.

That night, he wrote to his mother and told her about his new job and the village. He made only a passing mention of the Coopers, including them in a list of families who’d invited him into their homes. The letter sealed, he lay back on his bed. For the first time since he’d gone on the road, he felt a burning desire to return home, to try again with his father, to see his mother and ask her about his feelings for Marian.

The next Sunday, he saw Marian at the church. When Frank would’ve walked down the steps, she laid a gloved hand on his arm. He paused, his eyes going from her somber face to that of her father. Reverend Cooper didn’t hesitate to offer him an invitation to dinner.

“I appreciate it, sir, but I couldn’t impose—”

“Nonsense, ” Reverend Cooper interrupted with a wave of his hand. “We’ve been remiss in our duty to you, young man. Only the other day, Mrs. Cooper asked how you were getting on. Come to dinner and set her mind at rest.”

“If you insist…”

He didn’t look at Marian during the short walk to the house. Once inside the parlor, he sat across from Reverend Cooper and answered his questions about work. “This is a fine town, ” he assured the older man. “I feel as if I’m already part of the community.”

Reverend Cooper beamed. “Wonderful place, Winston. When I left the seminary, I realized immediately that this was where I wanted to raise my family.” He reached over and touched Marian’s hands. “My family is second only to God, Frank. I hope you feel the same way.”

Startled, Frank wondered if the reverend referred to his feelings for Marian. After a moment’s reflection, he decided the older man was questioning Frank’s relationship with his own family.

“I’ve written my mother about my situation here, ” he mumbled, glad that in this, at least, he could tell the plain truth.

“Good, good.” Reverend Cooper released Marian’s hand as Mrs. Cooper announced the meal.

When dinner was over, Frank excused himself, ignoring the frustrated look Marian sent his way. He couldn’t sit in the parlor again, not with her father watching him. Even though he was sure the earlier comments were just ordinary conversation, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that a warning had been implied.

The next Friday, Adam invited him home for dinner. The entire family greeted him, and he recognized several friends of the Bates children already sitting at the table. After a filling meal, he joined the large brood around the piano, letting his tenor mingle with the bright voices of the Bates family. They sang round after round of song. When they broke into “Button Up Your Overcoat, ” the group roared as Mrs. Bates tugged at his top button before kissing his cheek and sending him home for the night.

Whistling, he pushed open the gate at Widow Bartlett’s house. She was gone for the weekend, which meant he had the entire house at his disposal. No new tenants had arrived to rent the other spare rooms and he relished the thought of several hours to himself.

Loosening his tie as he entered his room, he frowned at the sight of a letter on his bed. He tossed his tie over a chair and picked up the envelope. Seeing his mother’s firm handwriting, he slit it open, then pulled out the single sheet.

She wanted him to come home. The people he mentioned sounded like good company, she wrote, but wouldn’t he rather be with his family?

“We miss you, all of us. Even your father wants you home.”

He dropped the letter on the bed and stretched out, his legs crossed at the ankles. Was that true? He couldn’t remember anything but arguments with his dad in the years before he left. Everything he’d done had upset his father—his friends, the job he’d pursued, his grades. His mother and older sister had often stepped in to stop the two of them from fighting. He couldn’t remember a single relaxing evening such as the one he’d just spent with the Bates family.