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Authors: Beverly Jenkins

BOOK: A Chance at Love
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“My father sold everything when my mother died.”

“Why?”

“To atone for his sins. He viewed her death as his personal punishment from God.”

That was certainly not the answer she'd been expecting. “He was a preacher?”

“Yes. He had this house built for her.” Jake didn't want to talk about his father because of the harsh memories still haunting his soul.

“What sins did he think he had to atone for?”

“Pride, arrogance, and adultery.”

Loreli asked very carefully, “He wasn't faithful to your mother?”

“No.”

“But why sell everything?”

“In one of the gospels of the New Testament, Jesus tells folks to rid themselves of all their possessions, and my father took the words to heart.”

“So, he sold everything?” Loreli asked.

“Everything. Beds, tables, chairs, sideboards. After her death, Bonnie and I grew up with only the things you see inside.”

“But don't you think her girls should have more?”

“To be honest, I haven't really thought about it, one way or the other?”

“They're children, Reed. Don't you think you should?”

He began to pace. Finally he said, “I won't have you disrupting our lives this way.”

“Disruption keeps you from being stagnant, Reed.”

“Oh, now you're calling me stagnant?!”

She smiled. “If the shoe fits…”

His handsome face went stony. “I have to see to the girls.”

“I'll be right here.”

He stormed off. Outside the thunder boomed in concert.

 

Before knocking on the girls' closed door, Jake drew in a deep breath to calm himself. He knocked.

Bebe's small voice chimed happily, “Come in.”

They were in bed. Bebe at the head, Dede at the foot. For the first time Jake attempted to see the room with fresh eyes. He realized the Winters woman was correct. There were no frills or other items associated with girls their age. He remembered the doll his sister dreamt of having when they were growing up but never received because his father thought toys a waste both economically and emotionally. Jake realized he'd been unwittingly subjecting the girls to the same kind of joyless life.

Dede's concerned voice brought him back. “Uncle, are you all right?”

He smiled softly. “Yep. I was just thinking is all.” To change the subject he said, “Sounds like you two had a fine day with Miss Winters.”

Bebe responded with a big smile. “Oh, yes, uncle. She's so nice. She took us to the bank and we helped her move some money.”

“You did?” he asked in a wonder-filled voice. “Did you actually get to carry it?”

They laughed, and Dede said, “No. It's going to come by wire. We just got to talk to Mr. Buxton and tell him what Loreli wanted.”

Bebe said proudly, “She let me write the date on the slip.”

“And I got to write in the name of our town.”

“My, my. I'm very impressed.”

Bebe said, “She said we needed to learn that a woman can take care of her own finances without a man's help, approval, or…” She paused, searching for the word.

“Interference,” Dede provided, proud that she'd remembered something her sister hadn't. Dede then added sagely, “Loreli's very smart, Uncle Jake.”

“Much smarter than mean old Miss Millie,” Bebe said.

Jake was confused. “What happened with Miss Millie? Is she going to sew your dresses for the wedding?”

“She threw a book at Loreli, so we had to leave.”

“What?”

“Miss Millie didn't like Loreli because she thought you were going to marry Miss Rebecca. That's what Loreli said.”

Jake went still. “How did Miss Millie find out about the wedding?”

Bebe confessed softly, “I told her Loreli was going to be our new mama. Was it a secret, Uncle?”

“No, it wasn't a secret.” And it certainly wasn't one now. More than likely Millie Tate had closed her shop immediately after the girls left and ran to tell Rebecca all she knew.

Bebe looked worried. “I wasn't suppose to tell. Was I?”

He came over and stroked her head reassuringly, “You didn't do anything wrong. Not a thing.”

He then leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Go to sleep now. I'll see you in the morning. Miss Win
ters is going to spend the night because of the storm.” He walked to the foot of the bed and gave Dede a kiss on the forehead as well. “Sleep tight,” he told her affectionately.

“Don't let the bed bugs bite,” they chimed.

He grinned, turned down the lamp, and left them to their dreams.

W
hen Jake returned to the front room, the Winters woman was nowhere to be seen.

“I'm out on the porch,” she called. “The rain's stopped.”

Jake opened the screen door and stepped out. The moon cast a bright light over the night. The air was fresh with the smell of rain. Loreli turned back to look at him and even in the dark he was moved by the faint scents of her cologne and how much of a woman she was. To a plain-living man like himself she was as exotic as a sapphire in a pile of coal. She sparkled, glowed, and seemed intent upon turning his world upside down. Stagnant, she'd called him. Admittedly he didn't like change and upheaval, at least not in his private life, but that didn't make him stagnant, did it?

“The girls heading to sleep?” she asked.

“Yes. They told me about the visit with Millie Tate.”

“Not a very nice woman.”

“De said she threw a book at you?”

She chuckled. “Not actually, but it certainly seemed that way. She said she was a good friend of your Rebecca.”

“She's not ‘
my
Rebecca.'”

“Well, apparently some folks see it differently. When are you going to tell Rebecca about…us, this?”

“Tomorrow, first thing,” Reed replied.

“She's probably going to be angry. I know I would be if I thought a man was courting me and he turned around and married someone else.”

Jake didn't expect tomorrow to go well. “The girls don't like her.”

“I know.” Loreli looked out over the moonlit night and said quietly, “Well, I hope it won't be too painful for her.”

“For her?”

She turned back so she could see him. “Yes, her. You're not going to be the one with the broken heart, Reed, she is.”

He didn't want to think about it. The confrontation with Rebecca would come soon enough. A short silence filled the air.

“I've decided to close the discussion we were having about all the things I bought. I'm not going to argue with you on such a beautiful night.” The storm had swept away the heat and humidity and replaced it with a cool, skin-brushing breeze. “I love it when it rains.”

“Why?”

“Oh, when I was about the twins' age, my pa and I were in Kentucky somewhere and we were walking to the next town. We'd just gotten run out of the last one, and it was hot, dusty, and humid. Seemed like we'd walked for miles. I was hungry, my clothes were filthy and sticking to
my skin, and then it started to rain. I never felt anything so good as that water in my life. I was so happy I started to dance right there in the muddy road, and my pa laughed and laughed. Rain always makes me think of that day and of him.”

Jake felt her smile touch him in the same places that the twins' smiles did. That filled him with alarm. Surely he couldn't be developing feelings for this impossible woman? “Why were you two run out of town?”

“Pa made a bet he couldn't cover. The men he owed wanted to string him up right then and there, but they didn't.”

“What stopped them?”

“My pa being who he was.”

She must've sensed his puzzlement because she explained further. “My pa was Hamilton Beauregard Winters, the only son of Horace Beauregard Winters, one of the wealthiest slave-owners in the state of Kentucky.”

“Your pa was White?”

“Yep, and he had the audacity to fall in love with my mother and be wealthy enough to live with her openly during a time that should have gotten them both killed. But because my pa was a Winters, folks left them alone.”

“How did his father feel about that?” Jake asked.

“Disinherited pa the day my parents set up housekeeping. Pa didn't care. Back then he had more than enough money to take care of us.”

“Then how did you wind up living such a hard life?”

She quieted and Jake wasn't sure she planned to answer until she said, “After my mother died, he couldn't bear to stay in the same place, so we drifted around. He ran his thoroughbreds in races for a few years, but eventu
ally had to sell them to cover gambling debts, and after that, he drank or gambled away everything else he owned. He died when I was fourteen, but his grief over losing my mother killed him long before.”

The story made Jake view her differently. He could no longer see her as just another gambling queen. It was apparent from her voice that she'd known pain and heartache. “He must've loved her very much.”

“He did, and continued to do so until the day he died.”

A silence settled over them again, letting the soft, chirping sounds of the night rise to their ears. He realized he wanted to know more about this fascinating woman, then hastily pulled his mind away from those thoughts. He didn't need to know any more than he did now. “You can sleep in my room tonight. I'll bunk in the barn.”

“Thanks. I'll head back first thing in the morning. I need to wire a friend. I can take the girls with me if you're really going to talk to Rebecca.”

“I am, so taking them with you would be appreciated.”

“I don't mind in the least.” She then turned to glance at him. “See, we can be civil.”

He met her eyes in the moonlit dark. “I suppose we can.”

Jake could sense the currents building between them, and fought to keep them from muddling his mind. “I put clean sheets on the bed when I changed my wet clothes. You can turn in anytime you like.”

“Thanks,” she said sincerely.

“Good night, Miss Winters.”

“It's no sin to call me by my given name, you know.”

Jake felt the eddying currents rise higher.

She told him, “Repeat after me—Loreli.”

He smiled faintly, then said quietly, “Loreli.”

Saying her name for the first time affected them both, but neither made mention of it.

For a moment there was silence, then he said, “Now, your turn, say, Jake.”

Loreli responded quietly, “Jake.”

Jake's heart skipped a beat and blood rushed to his loins. Pushing himself to remain unmoved, he replied, “Good night.”

He stepped off the porch and took a few steps toward the barn, only to have her call out. “Jake?”

He turned back. Telling himself that her standing in the moonlight was not the most beautiful thing he'd seen in all the world, he asked, “Yes?”

“You're a great cook.”

He couldn't stop his chuckle. “Thanks,” he told her. Their eyes were locked and Jake stood there for a moment caught by her beauty. The longer he stood there, the harder it became to move. Finally, shaking himself free of her spell, he resumed his walk to the barn.

 

Later, Loreli lay on a too-hard bed, looking up into the dark and thinking back on Jake Reed. Hearing him say her name had triggered a wanting inside herself that was as surprising as it was disturbing. She wasn't even sure she liked him, but something in the way he'd said her name…Loreli might have chalked up her reaction as imaginary were she unfamiliar with the concept of wanting a man. She wasn't. She'd been celibate by choice for almost two years, and so far it hadn't been a problem, but being with him tonight seemed to emphasize just how long the two years had been.

As women sometimes do following such an admission, Loreli wondered what kind of lover he'd be. Fast, slow? Was he the kind of man who'd place his lady's pleasure above his own or one of those who saw women only as vessels for a man's needs?

She decided it didn't matter one way or the other, because she and Reed would never be lovers, so she turned over and closed her eyes. She drifted off to sleep hearing him softly calling her name.

 

Thursday morning, Jake waited until Loreli and the girls had driven to town before mounting up to ride over to Rebecca's.

After answering his knock upon the door, she stepped onto the porch. Her greeting was cool. “Good morning, Jake.”

He took off his hat. “Rebecca.”

“What brings you out so early? The girls need watching?”

He shook his head. “I came to tell you—well—I'm getting married a week from Saturday.”

She tightened visibly. “What?”

“Rebecca—I'm sorry.”

“So the rumors are true? It's that Winters woman, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

She searched his eyes, then asked bluntly, “Why her and not me?”

He fiddled with his hat for a moment, trying to come up with a lie, then chose to go with the truth. “The girls.”

“The girls,” she stated skeptically. “You let two eight-year-olds decide your future?”

“It's their future too, Rebecca.”

“I know they don't like me, but to let them influence you this way? The woman's a gambler, for heaven's sake, Jake. What will people say?”

“Whatever they like, as long as they don't say it to the girls.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Pa said you'd never marry me. I kept telling him he was wrong—that you'd come to your senses—but you've lost your mind completely.”

He didn't argue with her. He wanted her to get it all out, because once she did he didn't plan to discuss the issue with her ever again. “I apologize for hurting you, but it wouldn't've worked out, you and me.”

“Why, because those girls didn't like being around someone who believed children should be seen and not heard?”

“Yes, and neither did I,” he added pointedly.

His frankness caught her by surprise. She recovered quickly. “Then you're right. Your tossing me over for a whore confirms you aren't the man for me.”

“She isn't a whore.”

“How do you know? You met her a few days ago, she could be anything.”

He didn't argue. “Are we done here?”

“Apparently, we are.”

Jake knew she was angry with him, but there was no cure for her distress short of making her his wife, and he wasn't going to do that. “I'll be heading back now, Rebecca. Again, I'm sorry for causing you pain.”

“Good-bye, Jake.”

That said, she went back inside the house.

Jake remounted Fox, and rode away.

 

It was midafternoon before Loreli and the girls returned. They found Jake seated on the porch in one of the old cane chairs. He looked grim, but his countenance brightened when he saw the girls.

“Hello, Uncle,” his nieces called as they ran up onto the porch.

He kissed each girl and asked, “You ladies get all of your business taken care of?”

Loreli followed the girls up the steps and pulled off her soft leather driving gloves. “Sure did. Wired my housekeeper in Philadelphia about having some of my belongings shipped here—”

“Can we go play?” Bebe asked. “Loreli bought us some new jacks.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Jake told her with a smile.

The girls disappeared around the back of the house, leaving Loreli and Jake alone.

“Housekeeper?” Jake asked querulously.

“Yes. Her name's Olivia Oliver…. How'd
your
morning go?”

He offered a brief shrug. “It's done.”

Loreli's stare caught his eyes when he looked up. “So, you talked to her?”

“Yes.”

Loreli doubted he'd unburden himself to her, but she made the offer anyway. “If you want to talk—”

“I don't.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

For a moment silence came between them, then he said, “You were right about the girls needing all the things you purchased.”

Loreli was surprised, to say the least. “What brought this on?”

“I looked at it from their point of view.”

“I see.”

“Rebecca accused me of having lost my mind for looking at life through their eyes. Told me I shouldn't let eight-year-olds decide my future.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“That that was why I couldn't marry her.”

Good answer,
Loreli said to herself.

As if talking to himself, he continued, “Thought I'd be able to look past the things about Rebecca I didn't care for, and that she'd change once she got to know the girls better, but…”

Their eyes met.

“I'm sorry,” Loreli replied genuinely.

“Don't be because truthfully, I'm not.” Then he added earnestly, “Maybe I have lost my mind in choosing you, and maybe I didn't plan this out real well, but the girls seem happier than they've been since coming to live with me. That means a lot.”

“Yes, it does,” she agreed.

Then as if he'd revealed too much of himself and his feelings, he changed the subject. “Are you staying for supper?”

Loreli suddenly wanted to know more about the man he kept hidden beneath the marble façade, but doubted the two of them would ever grow close enough for her to do so. “Am I invited?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess I'm staying.”

After supper, Loreli helped the girls with the dishes, then, while they ran off to finish their game of jacks, she went to find Reed. He was out by the barns repairing a busted slat in one of the animal pens. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the dark hard muscles of his arms. From his handsome mustached face to his chiseled physique he was gloriously made. When she neared, he stopped hammering and looked up.

Gloriously made,
she echoed inwardly. Composing herself, she said, “I'm heading back to town. Thanks for supper.”

He straightened to his full height, “You're welcome.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “Can you cook?”

“Not a lick.”

He stared.

Loreli shrugged. “It's the truth. No sense in lying about it. I can't cook beans.”

“Why not?”

“No reason to learn, I guess.”

“All women cook.”

“Says who?” she asked, crossing her arms.

He left that alone. “Do you sew?”

“Nope.”

“Can?”

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