A Matter of Destiny (20 page)

She remembered she'd halfway decided earlier in the week not to go because she didn't want to upset David, then forgotten everything when she'd read the letter.

Lightning hit the ground with a loud crack on a nearby mountainside, followed almost instantly by a deafening roar. She'd hated thunder-and-lightning storms since she was a child. She'd always climbed into bed with her parents and snuggled close to them until the terrible flashes and sounds subsided.

And then there'd been Tom to hold her through the night.

Sharon glanced at Joe's granite profile, longing to reach out and touch him. She felt miserably lost and alone. She'd done it now. She didn't have to worry about saying goodbye at the end of the semester. He wouldn't be speaking to her at all.

By the time they'd reached her home, Sharon felt emotionally drained. What a nightmare the day had been.

Joe got out and came around to open her door. She peeked at his face, craving one of his teasing smiles, but his expression was still carved of stone. He didn't look at her, but guided her through the gate and up to the porch.

Caddy leaped around them, but they both ignored him except for the quiet, "Down, boy," from Joe.

A jagged streak of light pierced the air and stabbed at the ground.

"Please don't go," she said.

"Why?" he demanded, keeping his frame rigid. "I can't think of a single reason to drag this out any longer."

Sharon held onto his arm. "Please Joe, I hate these storms. I'll fix you something to eat. Just stay for a little while."

He clenched his jaw and stared at her, a tumult of emotions blazing from his dark eyes. "Get inside," he said, pointing her towards the entry.

He took the key from her and unlocked the door, pushing it open. She didn't move, but asked again, "Will you stay?"

"All right." His voice sounded weary, as if he'd been on a long journey. Then his stomach growled.

Sharon smiled at the sound and Joe's expression softened. "You'd better hurry. I may pass out if I don't get some food soon."

He followed her into the kitchen and sat at the round oak table, watching as she made roast beef sandwiches.

She added pickles, tomatoes, and potato chips to the plates and carried them over. "What would you like to drink?" she asked. "There's milk, orange juice, or root beer..."

"Milk, please," he said, grinning lopsidedly as if it were a strain to give in to the better side of his character.

Sharon brought the carton and two glasses and set them on the table.

Nature's flash bulbs were firing all around now, and she glanced apprehensively out the window. He poured the milk and gave each of them a glass.

They ate silently, Sharon merely picking at her food. When she looked up at Joe, their eyes met. She tried to pull her gaze away, but couldn't. It was as if a battle waged inside each of them and there would be no victors.

Joe moved in his seat and cleared his throat. "Maybe it's time you talked more about your husband, Sharon. It might help."

His suggestion threw her off balance. That wasn't what she'd expected him to say. Dropping her sandwich onto her plate, she stood and went over to the kitchen window, leaning against the sink.

Darkness had fallen, but electric arrows intermittently transformed the night into day. The gothic mountain to the east stood majestic against the onslaught.

Joe moved close behind her, his hands spanning her waist. She wanted him to hold her, but didn't ask.

When he spoke, his breath warmed the back of her neck, and she trembled. "Come on, I'm willing to listen. Did you love him very much? Were you happy? I'd really like to know."

Sharon needed to talk about Tom, she knew that, but with Joe? It seemed strange he'd want to hear about her husband. But wasn't that what friends were for?

Succumbing to the comfort his arms offered, she leaned back against him. His musk after-shave enveloped her as she began to speak.

"Yes, I loved him. I thought we were very happy. Tom was fun to be around, but demanding, too." She sighed, remembering. "He had high standards for other people and very little patience if they didn't live up to them."

She paused, thinking how ironic it was that he'd failed to live up to his own rules. The hurt of the morning wasn't as intense as before, and she was grateful. When had the pain dulled?

Joe's arms tightened, and he asked in a flat voice, "What do you miss most about him?"

Sharon's gaze selected a distant yard light, and she stared fixedly in that direction. There were good times, she reflected. Thank God for those.

Her words took on a dreamy tone. "Sharing, feeling essential to someone. Not having to make decisions alone. They're all a part of marriage. But now, I wish I'd been more independent, then it wouldn't be so difficult now." She shrugged, having said enough. "I'm so tired, Joe..."

He turned her around. "I'm sorry if my questions upset you. I've heard that it helps to talk about a loved one." He stopped and kissed her nose. "Why don't you go on to bed, and I'll clean up here, then lock the door on my way out."

The thunder boomed behind her, and she squirmed closer to him, burying her face against his chest. This time, it was Joe who trembled.

Sharon mumbled into his shirt. "I don't want to be alone, Joe, not during a storm." She couldn't bear the thought of him leaving now.

He held her close and spoke in a ragged whisper, "Go on to bed. I'll stay until it's over. Caddy will keep me company."

She pulled away and stared into his warm, dark eyes. "Thank you, Joe. You're very special, you know that?"

She stood on her toes and kissed his firm lips lightly. Then, wriggling out of his embrace, she ran up the stairs, leaving him behind.

Sharon slipped into a thin, cotton nightgown as she'd already showered earlier. She stared into the mirror over the dresser, trying to see herself as Joe might. She'd never know for sure why Tom had gone astray, but she was glad she'd loved him without reservation. There was no reason for her to feel any guilt on that score.

With the reassuring clatter of Joe's presence in the house, Sharon crawled into bed and soon fell into a restless sleep.

After Joe had cleaned the kitchen, he flipped on the TV at a low volume and stared unseeingly at the moving figures on the screen.

He hadn't known it was possible to love someone like this. He felt the need for Sharon in every cell of his body. How long was he going to keep torturing himself by being near her? When had he completely stopped thinking like a guardian? Should he relinquish his position to another guardian?

Joseph had asked himself the same question over and over, with the same results. He couldn't do it.

He was puzzled, though. There'd been something troubling her before they'd gone to the restaurant, something that had hurt her. He supposed he'd never know what it was. He couldn't read her thoughts anymore.

Joe glanced toward the stairs, using every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from climbing them. Forbidden thoughts, he told himself.

Something wet tickled his hand. Caddy nudged him as if he knew the turmoil going on inside Joe.

"Good old boy," he said, stroking the thick red and white fur. "She can't forget me as long as she has you, can she?"

Deep down, he knew the rules about forgetfulness once he was gone. She
would
forget him, completely.

Caddy lifted a heavy paw, tapping at Joe's leg for a shake. Joe obliged, and hugged the big-hearted animal. "If only a woman had as much devotion in her as a dog," he mused, but knew deep down that the woman he wanted had loved another man faithfully and completely.

He envied Tom Quinn for the years he'd had with Sharon, experiencing a tug of dislike for the man he'd never known. He'd look him up when he returned to the spirit world and make his peace with Sharon's husband.

Joe peered over his shoulder at the torrent outside. It would be awhile before the storm abated. He leaned back against the sofa as the St. Bernard settled at his feet.

It was happening again. Flames danced around them, threatening to engulf her sons.
An explosion ripped through the air, and Sharon sat up, screaming.

The sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs magnified her terror. There were lights and noise all around.

The door flung open, and an obscure figure towered over her, outlined by a glow from the hallway. She gaped at the intruder, her vocal chords refusing to function.

"Sharon, it's me, Joe." As he approached slowly, the hall light traveled with him, faintly illuminating the room. The nightmare receded, and Sharon blinked to clear her vision of the horrible scenes her sleep had evoked.

Joe. He was here. She held out her arms when he sat down on the bed beside her.

"Hold me, Joe. It was awful...and then the thunder..."

He folded her into his embrace as he stroked her hair. His low voice soothed her fear. "It's okay, honey, I'm here now." He spoke as though to a frightened child, and Sharon clung to him, trying to absorb his warm strength. She shuddered as the storm outside built in intensity the way a symphonic orchestra advances to the finale.

At first Joe only held her, then his hands began to caress. Sharon held her breath as his masculine fingers stirred sensations long subdued. She didn't want him to stop, but had to protest, "Joe..."

"Sharon, please." There was a husky longing in his voice that made her lift her head.

When the lightning flared again, they gazed at one another for a long, electric moment. Sharon watched, fascinated, as Joe's mouth descended to meet hers with a gentle sweetness.

Her eyes opened wide, then fluttered and closed. His lips were no longer gentle, but began a sensuous exploration, robbing her of conscious thought.

The kiss deepened until they broke apart, thirsty for air. Sharon couldn't bear the brief separation. His breath was hot on her face, fanning the desire she'd fought for so long.

An inner alarm sounded, but it was too late to deny the emotions he'd summoned forth. She pulled his head down and kissed him with a hungry passion. Joe groaned deeply and held her so tightly she could scarcely breathe.

"Please let me stay." His hoarse words spun their way into her heart. Sharon needed him badly, especially tonight. She needed to feel cherished and refused to think of anything but the tumult between them.

He must've seen the answer in her eyes because he lifted her nightgown and pulled it over her head, drawing a sharp breath as his gaze drank in her soft curves.

Joe slipped out of his own clothes as Sharon watched with undisguised desire when another thunderbolt lit up the world outside. She imagined they were alone in a jungle hut, protected by the savage elements that assaulted their enemies.

When Joe eased between the sheets and their bodies touched, it was as if a dam had burst, and the tide of their emotions could no longer be contained.

Sharon cried out in a promise of surrender as any doubts she'd had tumbled into oblivion. She buried her face in the hot pulse of his neck.

"Honey, I can't believe how good you feel," he said as if in agony. They kissed again and again with the same raging intensity as the storm.

The thunder created a backdrop to their lovemaking, and Sharon knew she'd never be afraid of storms again.

Joe had been the calm refuge in the maelstrom of her grief since they'd first met, but there was nothing tranquil about him now. He stirred the fever within her as Tom never had.

At the thought of Tom, she hesitated, but only for an instant. She wanted to forget her husband tonight, as he must have forgotten her on other nights.

Much later, Joe lay beside her, one arm under her head and the other draped across her hips. She nestled close to him, smiling contentedly. The wonder of their union filled her with awe, as if something beautiful and sacred had occurred.