WidowsWalk (3 page)

She knew she should work on the house, she knew she had
deadlines to meet—but all she wanted to do was read those letters. She sighed
and hoisted herself from the bed.

In an attempt to assuage her self-imposed guilt, she swept
up the porch and pulled a few weeds. She pretended to work on a few edits,
fixed some supper and took a bath, all the while daydreaming about the letters
and accomplishing little else. She liked to prolong the excitement. It made it
so much better when she finally gave in.

While making a cup of tea she looked out the kitchen window
and wished Tom was standing beside her. She hoped he would be home soon. She
was thinking about him too much—the empty ache inside, the hopeful gaze
drifting down the beach, the secret smile when she remembered his kiss. Well he
was gone now. She would have to wait. Cup of tea in one hand and her loneliness
in the other, Lindy headed up to her room and the waiting letters.

The sound of the waves lapping against the shore drifted
through the open window. The night was unusually warm and Lindy took off her
robe. Feeling a bit uncomfortable being naked and alone in the big old house,
she went to the bureau to find something to throw on.

Seeing Tom’s faded shirt by her cup of tea, she laughed. “Oh
why not?” Once again she breathed in his scent and then slipped the t-shirt
over her head. With a silly smile, she pulled the fabric close against her
skin.

Glad she had not rid herself of her aunt’s belongings, she
pulled short cotton dress gloves on before handling the letters. The gloves
were pale yellow with a delicate scallop at the wrist. The smell of lavender
clung to the fitted gloves and Lindy wondered if her aunt might have once worn
them for a special occasion. Suddenly she wished that her aunt were here with
her to answer the inevitable questions that were to come. Or her mother. Even
with the struggle to maintain a mother-daughter relationship, she had loved her
mother and now that she was gone the struggles were hard to remember.

Reaching into the box, she carefully lifted the wedding gown
out and laid it on the top shelf of the closet. Sitting cross-legged on the
floor, she began to remove the bundles of letters. Searching the postmarks
carefully, she tried to arrange them chronologically. Lindy stood and stretched
the kinks out. Her workouts had been nonexistent since she had arrived but she
tried to justify it with manual labor.

Staring at the piles of rainbow-colored ribbons, Lindy took
a deep breath to prepare herself. As if she had just discovered a map to the
fountain of youth, she was excited to begin the journey of her Great-aunt
Emmaline. A romantic at heart, Lindy felt a squeal of joy bubbling up inside.
She was a fool for a great love story.

Pulling back the covers, she climbed into the big four-poster
bed. Cleaning her glasses carefully on the cool percale sheet, she propped up
the pillows and settled in. Lindy glanced at the clock ticking on the table
beside her. Nine thirty. Giving the timepiece a quick winding, she committed to
two hours. No more.

The blue ribbon was still smooth and slippery as she pulled
at the bow, releasing its grip on the mail. Opening the first letter, she
squinted hard at the slightly faded ink and tilted the lampshade up for more light.

Dear Miss Ballard,

I hope this letter finds you in good health.

The seas have been quite rough and we were glad to make
port in the West Indies. The spice trade has become quite the cutthroat
business and the competition grows fierce.

I am learning a great deal from your father and he says
that I shall be ready for my own ship soon.

I wanted to thank you most humbly for the luncheon you
provided before we sailed. It was my pleasure to meet you and if I might be so
bold, I should look forward to seeing you again once we return.

Yours,

Benjamin Wetherby

Lindy was surprised to find Emmaline’s reply next in the
pile.

My Dear Mr. Wetherby,

It was delightful to receive your post. My father has
often remarked of the danger surrounding his trips to the West Indies. I hear
tell it is a remarkable place and would like nothing more than to visit myself
one day. Father says the sea is no place for an innocent woman but I say bah!
How else am I to see the world? Is he not the very one that has filled my head
with stories of fantastical lands?

I wish you safe journey home and would be pleased if you
were to call on me when you return.

Sincerely,

Emmaline Ballard

Seems Emmaline was an independent woman. I like her
already.
Lindy felt a pang of regret that they had never met.

Dear Miss Ballard,

It was with great joy that I read your note. Thank you
for taking time to reply.

I must agree with your father, the sea is far too
dangerous for a refined woman like yourself and the characters that frequent it
can be a bit—unseemly.

I do understand your desire to see the world outside of
Cornwall as that is what has led me to my chosen profession. I hope that someday
you are able to make your dreams a reality.

Your father has told me we should be home in a month or
less. I have asked his permission to visit you and he has agreed.

I look forward to seeing you again.

Benjamin Wetherby

Hardly worth the waste of paper
, Lindy thought as she
read through the first stack. She wanted to skip ahead but her anal nature
would not allow her to. After several more piles of pleasant chitchat and carefully
disguised budding desire things were starting to heat up.

It seemed that at his last visit home, Benjamin had actually
kissed Emmaline’s open palm—after a year of courtship.
Oh the scandal!
Lindy thought, yawning as she folded the fragile missive. Putting the carefully
bundled letters together, she set the stack on the floor.

Standing by the bank of open windows, she sighed into the
darkness and wondered where Tom might be. She sensed that getting involved with
him would cause her nothing but heartache.

Could she manage the lonely times with the grace that
Emmaline seemed to portray in her letters? She wondered how many times she
might have stared out this very window longing for her captain’s return.

The letters and work on the house made the days pass
swiftly. Lindy was enjoying the rugged beauty of the Cornish coast and spent
hours walking the shoreline.

She tried hard not to wait for Tom’s return. But strangely
she missed him.
That’s impossible. I don’t even know him! It was just a kiss
and he probably has a gal in every port.
Lindy knew it didn’t make sense
but somehow she also knew it was too late to figure it out.

The new novel was well underway, using her aunt’s letters as
a basis for the tragic love story. The two lovers were separated for months at
a time and their angst-filled letters were the thin cord that held them close
to each other.

It had been almost two years and Benjamin had only been home
three times since they had met. The last visit he had kissed her lips and they
were now bound to each other with a dream of being together some day. Emmaline
knew that her life would always be difficult as Benjamin would not give up the
sea but the pain brought by their separations was infinitely desirable to the
pain of being without him forever.

Lindy had left a pair of letters sitting on the table next
to her laptop. She had read them last night but the yearning was so painful she’d
had to take a break and sleep off the emotional jag.

With a productive day behind her, she took her dinner out
onto the porch. The prawns were fresh and pink. So sweet Lindy almost wished
she hadn’t added the butter and garlic. Lost in the twisted pile of angel-hair
pasta, she searched for the plump morsels of seafood. The tender meat exploded
in her mouth, the moisture sending her taste buds into sensual orbit.

Closing her eyes, she sighed and let the flavors envelop
her. As she reached for the cool glass of Riesling she looked out to the sea,
reminding her that life was full of simple pleasures.

The sun was dropping in the white sky and the breeze began
its steady rhythm. Lindy closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her.
Her mind drifted as she stroked at a strand of her long chestnut hair,
absorbing the soft texture with her fingertips. Letting her hand drift, she
caressed the soft swell of her breasts, feeling the warmth of her skin.
Pausing, she braced herself and then ever so lightly grazed her breast, feeling
her nipples harden with immediate need and causing her legs to part slightly.

A beautiful evening, fresh seafood, good wine—life is not
always easy, but it is so worth it.
She sighed loudly.

“Wow that must be some shrimp!” Tom said enthusiastically as
he stepped onto the porch.

Lindy sat up abruptly, banging her knees on the wrought-iron
table as she quickly closed her thighs.

“Tom, I was just…” Embarrassment crawled up the column of
her throat as Tom looked at her with pure lust in his eyes.

“Lindy, no need to explain. Really.” He stared at her hand
as she absentmindedly continued to stroke her breast.

“Oh dear God,” Lindy said, quickly putting her hand on the
table. Trying to recover, she found her reserved tone and acted as though
nothing was amiss. Her mother always told her, “Darling, it is not what you say
but how you say it. Pretend that you know and everyone will believe you.”

“I was just having some dinner. Are you hungry? I have
plenty if you would you care to join me.” She tried to recover her composure.

“That is very kind, thank you,” he said with an equal amount
of self-possession. “Obviously it is quite delicious. I would be a fool to say
no to you.”

Lindy rose from her seat, reminding herself to keep her head
high and with as much elegance as she could muster headed inside to fix Tom a
plate. She wondered if she had imagined the innuendo of his words but she was
rather naive when it came to games of love. She knew that the girls who played
them won the prize but she couldn’t help feel that perhaps their victories were
a bit hollow.

Lindy didn’t want the “right one”, the one with the right
job, degree or fancy car. She wanted “the one” and she preferred to be alone
than to settle. When she brought out his plate and another wineglass, he had moved
into the chair beside hers and Lindy looked at him, the warm sun glowing off
his hair as he stared out to sea.

He was so beautiful—like a dream lover, she thought. She
realized how much she had missed him and as the screen door banged behind her
she the sound waves echoed deep inside in her core. Tom looked at her standing
there, plate in one hand and glass in the other.

Lindy might be naive, but the look in his eyes told her he
was hungry for more than dinner and a tiny itch started to grow outward from
her clit.

They ate together, catching up on the last month of news.
Tom talked about the beautiful places he had seen and Lindy about what she had
accomplished. She cleared their dishes and opened another bottle of wine. When
she went back outside Tom was reading one of the letters she had left on the
table.

She wanted to scold him for handling it with buttery fingers
but when he looked at her with emotions swirling in his eyes she thought twice.

“What is this, Lindy?”

“I found them in the attic. Hundreds of them actually. I am
using them in a new novel. They are quite lovely.”

“And sad—this fellow has it bad doesn’t he?” Tom remarked
with a smile.

“I guess you could say that. They have been together for a
couple of years and only met three times. He finally kissed her today.”

“Mmm. Cornwall, love letters, a romance writer. You must be
in heaven. I will admit his words are touching. Listen to this.”

My Dearest Emmaline,

The days grow longer as we toss and turn in the cold,
raging waters of the Atlantic. The thought of your sweet lips pressed against
mine is all I have to keep me warm. I long for nothing more than to feel your
hand in mine. Please do not give up on me, my darling. The sea is like a longtime
mistress, always there but she no longer affords me the freedom I crave. Now she
is a prison, stealing the pleasure she once gave. I can only feel the pain of
my desire for you. I promise to return to you soon, my love.

Eternally,

Your Benjamin

Lindy clutched her chest, feeling Benjamin’s pain in her soul.
Wishing that someday someone would love her like that.

“Lindy, you aren’t going to start weeping are you?” Tom
asked, taking her other hand in his. Lindy looked down at their joined hands.
His sun-darkened fingers were woven amongst her small pale ones and she wondered
why it felt so natural.

“Tom.” She was suddenly afraid of the intimacy. “Was there a
reason you stopped by?”

“A reason? Well no, I just wanted to say hello. See how
things were going. Sarah said you stopped by while I was gone.”

“Oh Sarah, right. She’s lovely, Tom.”

“Yes, she is. I love her dearly. Don’t know what I would do
without her.”

Lindy slid her hand from beneath his. “I am glad you have
someone who makes you happy.” Lindy was just not going to put herself in a
position to be hurt again.

“I am very fortunate. Lindy, Sarah and I—”

“Tom, I am not prying. You owe me no explanations. I am sure
an attractive man like you has plenty of women vying for your affections.”

“Mmm, plenty,” he teased. “A gal in every port—sometimes
two.”

Lindy stood and began clearing the last of the dishes,
trying to keep her body language relaxed. She knew it was his right. Why did it
bother her? Did she really think they had a chance, the crazy American romance
writer and the British sea captain? She had to quit mixing up her stories with
her real life.

Setting the dishes in the sink, she looked out the kitchen
window and took a deep breath. She had learned how to share in kindergarten but
this was perhaps more than she could manage.
Too bad
, she thought.

Tom’s arms encircled her waist as she stood in front of the
sink. She couldn’t help but lean back against him for a brief moment.

“Lindy,” he whispered, lifting her heavy hair and kissing
her neck, “I thought about you quite a bit while I was gone.”

“Really?” The chills caused the goose bumps to rise on her
skin. “In between ports?” she added sarcastically.

“In port too.”

“I am honored.” Her defenses were still up but her sarcasm
was waning.

“Lindy,” he whispered, his tongue sliding into her ear. “Sarah
is my sister.”

“Oh—” was all she could think of to say as his lips trailed
back down her neck. “Oh.” He pulled her shirt aside and kissed the hollow of
her shoulder blade.

Tom’s heat and hardness were against her bottom and she pressed
her hips against him. Rewarded with his sigh, she let her head loll back onto
his shoulder as he kissed her neck.

Tom’s hands glided up the curves of her waist and turned
inward to cover her breasts. Cupping them, he remained still. Lindy didn’t know
if he was waiting for a sign that this was okay but she wanted more. Turning in
his embrace, she met his gaze. “I thought about you too once or twice.” As she
lowered her eyes, the heat rose up her neck.

“And what was it that you thought about?” His tone was easy
and Lindy took a chance and looked at him again.

“Well you know, where you were, the weather.” Lindy grasped
for casual comments but knew her words rang hollow. His intention was clear and
Lindy found the desire in his eyes both arousing and frightening.

“Did you perhaps think about this?” His mouth covered hers
and he kissed her deeply.

Pulling back, he looked at her again. Lindy knew she was an
open book. All she said was “Yes.”

Tom’s mouth came down on hers again with a ferocity of need
that took Lindy’s breath away. His tongue thrust into her mouth hard and deep,
almost choking her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. The
hard lip of the kitchen sink cut into her back as he pushed against her. The
length of him pressed through the tight denim and against her sundress.

The letters, his distance, her need—Lindy wasn’t sure what
was causing this strong desire and wanton behavior but she could not hold back.
Uncharacteristically she threw caution to the wind and let herself sink into
his embrace.

Tom took Lindy’s hand and led her to the staircase. Pausing
at the bottom, he allowed her the courtesy to make the choice whether to go
upstairs with him or not. Lindy wanted to explain that she wasn’t easy, she
wanted to ask what it all meant—but more than she wanted her insecurities
squashed she wanted Tom. Now.

Smiling tremulously, she turned and walked up the stairs.
The lace curtains were blowing in the breeze as the glow of twilight settled in
the quiet of her bedroom. It seemed that magic was floating in the air and
Lindy closed her eyes, feeling the energy of their desire dance across her
skin.

Tom stood behind her, their bodies barely touching. As he
slowly lowered the zipper of her dress, Lindy began to tremble. She wanted to
feel awkward and wanted to question her motives but as the tips of his fingers
ran down the length of her spine all she knew was that she wanted him.

Tom pushed the dress from her shoulders and it dropped to
the floor, pooling around her bare feet. Lindy wondered briefly if she had
bothered with matching underwear—she couldn’t remember. She hoped he wasn’t
disappointed. She took care of herself but her hips were proportionately as
full as her breasts and she hoped he didn’t think her fat.

“My God, Lindy, you are magnificent,” he whispered with a
sigh. “A real woman.”

“That means chubby, right?”

“No, that means delicious. A man likes to feel the softness
of a woman. It is part of the appeal.”

Tom peeled the underwear over her hips and slid it down her
clenched thighs until it met her dress on the floor. Next, he unfastened her
bra and it joined the clothes on the floor. Dropping to his knees, he bit at
the soft, rounded cheek of her bottom, quickly following with his tongue to
ease the sting.

Lindy whimpered softly as he slid his hands between her legs
and opened her. His tongue headed straight to the opening of her core and
delved inside for a taste. Prodding, he tasted her sweetness.

Lindy could feel the pressure building as the pointed tip
pressed at her G-spot and her legs started to shake. She had never wanted
anything more than she wanted this moment and she shuddered.

Tom gripped her thighs tightly and pulled them farther
apart. His thumb found her clit and slid gently across the hard nub as he
pushed two fingers inside her. Lindy was moaning now, the release pushing at
her.

She struggled to hold on to some semblance of control but
when Tom pressed on the sensitive bundle of nerves Lindy fell over the edge,
the sweet flood of her ecstasy running through his fingers.

Shuddering and weak, she held on to his head for support.
Tom sucked on her mound and then looked up at her. “Mmm, delicious.”

He stood and Lindy was glad he put his arms around her for
support. As he kissed her she could taste her essence in his mouth and it
aroused her even more.

Like an animal in heat she clawed at his shirt, raising it
over his head and tossing it to the floor. Reaching for his jeans, she popped
open the snap and lowered the zipper, careful of the bulge from his obvious
erection.

Pushing the jeans from his hips, she was somehow not
surprised to find that he wore no underwear. His cock sprang free and Lindy
could not stop herself from dropping to her knees. She had to taste him.

Tentatively she licked at the rim of skin covering the head of
him. Pushing it back with her tongue, she took the tip into her mouth and
sucked gently. The drop of moisture was smooth and slippery on her tongue and
they moaned simultaneously. He tasted of the sea—warm and salty, a bit tangy
and very dangerous.