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They continued to dance in silence for a few minutes, tense at first but then gradually she relaxed and let him draw her closer. “Is hubby taking you on a honeymoon to some romantic destination?”
“We’re not going anywhere,” she told him. “Daniel has to work.”
Evan raised their joined hands to brush his lips across her knuckles. “My return flight isn’t until the end of the week. While hubby’s away, Chloe could play.”
Her gaze locked with his and heat rose between them. For two cents he’d drag her out of this hall and say to hell with her husband, to hell with Sudan.
“I’m married,” she whispered. “Daniel’s a good man. I can’t betray him.”
Evan felt a sharp stab of pain over what he’d lost. He almost felt as if he’d been betrayed. He’d been careless with women’s feelings before, but no one had ever mattered to him the way Chloe did. Until this moment he hadn’t even realized how strong his feelings were for her. “Paul Bunyan over there might be your lawful husband,” he said, “but you’ll always belong to me.”
“Oh, Evan, this is such a mess.” She sighed. “I love you, but I can’t…” Her voice trailed off.
“You could if you wanted to.” At that, her mouth pressed into a thin, stubborn line, and Evan knew he wasn’t going to get his own way tonight. To his dismay, his voice shook as he asked, “Before I go may I kiss the bride?”
She nodded and he lowered his mouth to hers in a brief kiss that was achingly sweet and salted by tears. Evan cradled Chloe in his arms, lost in emotion and not knowing how he’d gotten that way.
A large hand grasped his arm, pulling Evan back. Damn, it was the glowering lumberjack. Evan cast a last glance at Chloe, and then released her. “She’s all yours, mate,” he said roughly to Daniel. “For now.”
Chapter 2
Bubbles streamed from the mouthpiece of Daniel’s regulator and cold water seeped into his wet suit. After an awkward duck dive he hauled himself hand over hand down the rocky underwater slope. Evan descended in an effortless glide, with an occasional casual flip of his fins. The bastard made it look so easy.
The sound of his own rasping breath and thudding heart filled Daniel’s silent world. Then, as he went deeper and the pressure increased, he gained speed. Starfish and anemones slid past, barely noticed. Twenty feet, thirty feet…With too many weights on his belt, he was going too fast. He banged his knee on a rocky outcropping. The underwater flashlight strapped to his calf clanked against rocks.
Daniel fumbled for the hose of his buoyancy compensator and spurted compressed air into the vest, slowing his descent. Relief flooded his veins and he realized he was sweating despite the cold.
At the base of the slope, hovering in a cloud of sediment that rose up from the soft ocean floor, Evan waited patiently, his upturned face pale inside his mask. Anger surged through Daniel at the thought he’d allowed himself to be goaded into this expedition; had allowed this man access to his family. Daniel should be pummeling the brilliant Dr. Cutler, not trying to prove he was the man’s equal.
At the bottom Daniel was still breathing heavily, and he consciously tried to slow his oxygen intake. Eyebrows raised, Evan put his thumb and forefinger together in the universal sign, waiting for Daniel’s answer to the question of whether everything was okay.
Everything was not okay. His wife was in love with this man and she was probably, right this minute, planning to go away with him. Daniel formed his fingers into a circle in response. Okay.
Inside, he seethed.
Chloe unbuttoned her blouse and pushed aside her nursing bra. Six-month-old Brianna latched eagerly on to the exposed nipple and started to suck. Her sturdy little legs in their pink sleeper pushed against the arm of the chair and a tiny hand clutched at Chloe’s breast.
Outside, cold November rain was falling for the fifth day in a row, making Chloe feel like a prisoner in her own home. The rental house was small and shabby, the living room dim even in midafternoon. It was all so dreary!
Chloe stroked her daughter’s downy cheek and peace settled over her, wrapping the two of them in a cocoon. Now and then Brianna stopped sucking, making small gusty sighs that caused Chloe to smile. Any hardship, any sorrow, was endurable for Brianna’s sake but, oh, she missed the modern light-filled apartment overlooking the water that she’d lived in before she was married.
She’d just switched the baby to her other breast when she heard Daniel’s truck pull into the gravel driveway at the side of the house. The back door opened and his boots clunked heavily on the rubber mat just inside.
Daniel padded through the living room on his way to the bedroom. Noticing Chloe, he stopped. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” he asked, flipping on the lamp.
Chloe blinked against the light. “You’re home early.”
“Can’t work in this rain.” Beads of water glistened in his black hair, which was messy from being pushed out of his eyes. “We’re raising the roof trusses and it’s too dangerous, even with scaffolding.”
He bent to kiss the top of her head. Chloe glanced up and saw his gaze on her bare breast, and she tried, without appearing obvious, to cover herself.
Daniel pretended not to notice and gently touched the back of Brianna’s hand with a fingertip. The baby stopped sucking to smile at him. “Do you want some tea?” he asked Chloe, keeping his eyes averted.
“Yes, please,” she responded, feeling contrite and resentful at the same time. His love made her feel guilty, because she didn’t reciprocate it. They’d both known what they were getting into when they’d decided to marry, but somehow the reality had turned out to be different from the theory.
Daniel put on the kettle, then took Brianna away to change her diaper. Chloe pulled her clothing back together and went out to the kitchen to finish making the tea. As she rinsed out the teapot in the chipped enamel sink, she felt the floorboard sag beneath her feet and looked down to see water seeping between the worn green linoleum and the baseboard.
“Daniel,” she called. “We’ve got a problem!”
He appeared in the doorway with Brianna in his arms and watched Chloe bounce up and down on the soggy boards. “This place is a piece of crap,” he said, disgusted. “We can’t have Brianna crawling around in here.”
“This wouldn’t be happening, if we’d stayed in my apartment,” Chloe couldn’t help but say.
“We couldn’t afford your apartment—as I explained when we went over our budget,” Daniel replied patiently. “Here, we’ll have a backyard for Brianna to play in next summer.”
Chloe sighed as she dropped tea bags into the pot and poured boiling water over top. She supposed Daniel was right, but next summer seemed a million years away. “I’ll call the landlord. If we’re lucky he’ll get someone in before the weekend.”
“Don’t bother,” Daniel said, getting an arrowroot cookie out of the tin for Brianna. “I’ll fix it myself and ask for a reduction in rent.”
Chloe’s eyebrows rose. She still wasn’t used to being with a man who could not only build a house from the ground up but who could fix anything that was broken. She poured the tea, and then carried steaming mugs into the living room.
Daniel was sitting on the floor with Brianna. After a moment’s hesitation, Chloe lowered herself to the carpet to join them, tucking in one leg in and stretching out the other. Brianna sat between Chloe and Daniel, slightly wobbly but holding herself up. Chloe handed her a squeaky toy and the little girl pressed on the plastic dog with both hands, trying to make it squeak.
Daniel sipped his tea. “What did you do today?”
“Laundry, cleaning…The usual stuff.” Chloe pressed her fingers into her stomach and felt the muscles that had gone soft with disuse and stretching during her pregnancy. If she was dancing they would soon tighten up again, but she wasn’t going back—at least not right away. They couldn’t afford child care and, anyway, she wanted to be home with Brianna. “The Joffrey Ballet is in town from New York. If my mother can baby-sit, do you want to go?”
Daniel snorted. “Pay all that money to watch a bunch of guys in tights? No, thanks.”
Chloe glanced away, stung by his dismissive tone and remembering the performance she’d attended with Evan, the week before he’d left. Afterward, they’d discussed the story behind the dance and talked about how skillfully the dancers had interpreted it.
Silence descended on the room, the only sound the beating of the rain on the roof and Brianna’s soft babbling. The tot banged her play dog on the carpet, finally eliciting a tiny squeak. Not satisfied with this, however, she twisted around and offered the toy to her father.
Daniel made the dog squeak and Brianna gurgled happily, displaying a gummy grin with two small bottom teeth. Then Daniel growled and tickled Brianna’s tummy with the plaything. She convulsed in a belly laugh, her bright blue gaze darting between Chloe and Daniel as if inviting them both to share in her delight.
“She’s really alert, isn’t she?” Daniel’s voice was full of pride.
Chloe smiled warmly at Daniel, her undercurrent of disappointment forgotten with their mutual adoration of Brianna. “You should have seen her today, picking up blocks and putting them in a bucket. She wore a little frown of concentration, so serious and so cute.”
Brianna spied a ball behind the couch and hoisted herself onto her hands and knees, rocking back and forth as if getting ready to launch herself across the room.
Daniel grabbed the ball and placed it a foot away. Brianna edged forward. “Chloe, look, she’s crawling. That’s my girl!”
Chloe chuckled as Brianna reached for the ball and collapsed on her tummy. Noting the pride and pleasure on Daniel’s face, she thought about his choice of words—“that’s my girl.” “We could get a DNA test,” she said, broaching the delicate subject, which Daniel always seemed to want to avoid. “Then you’d know for sure if she was yours.”
“She already is mine.”
“I know, but…”
“I don’t need proof,” Daniel insisted. “I couldn’t love her any more if I’d given birth to her myself.”
Chloe smiled, relieved. “Okay.”
Daniel placed a hand on Chloe’s outstretched leg and began to massage her calf with his rough calloused fingers. For a moment Chloe just thought about how good it felt. But then she saw his dark eyes heat and she tensed and looked away, not wanting to encourage him. Daniel’s smile faded as he withdrew his hand. The warmth that had built between them over Brianna suddenly cooled.
Chloe felt sick at the hurt and anger she could see in Daniel’s eyes, but she couldn’t help her feelings. Before Brianna was born she’d responded to Daniel’s lovemaking as warmly as she could, considering how she still felt about Evan. Recovering from the birth had given her a brief reprieve, but now Daniel clearly wanted to resume their previous intimacy. At night in bed she sensed his need—as he moved restlessly in his sleep beside her and awoke each morning with an erection. She could see his frustration as he’d turn his naked body away from her and head to the bathroom for a long shower.
Chloe wanted to be a good wife to Daniel. Sex was part of that, but it was hard for her when she wasn’t in love with him. She liked being cuddled and she enjoyed the warmth and safety of being wrapped in his strong arms. Daniel had been her friend before he became her husband, and she appreciated it. But now it seemed they were losing even that.
Chloe got to her feet and went to the window. The rain still poured down steadily, shrouding them in a silver curtain. If only she could take Brianna for a walk—anything to get out of the house. But the weather wasn’t going to lift.
She watched the red mail truck slowly progress up the street, making frequent stops at the closely set houses. Outside their gate the driver jumped out in his raincoat and boots and leaned across a big puddle to push an envelope and flyers though the slot in the box.
Chloe caught a glimpse of blue—an airmail letter? Her heart leaped wildly. She’d told Evan not to write; there was no point now that she was married. But she didn’t know anyone else who would send her a letter from overseas. “Mail’s here.”
“I’ll go.” Daniel started to get up. “You stay here where it’s dry.”
“No!” she said, quickly adding, “I need to get out of the house. For some fresh air.”
Before he could protest, she threw on her raincoat and boots and splashed down the path to the front gate. Putting her body between the letterbox and the window, she leafed through the flyers for the pale blue envelope. Evan’s handwriting jumped out at her, as did the Sudanese stamp and Arabic script. Stifling the impulse to pirouette in her rubber boots, she bounced on her toes and grinned foolishly. Raindrops were soaking the thin paper, so she quickly folded the letter and shoved it into the front pocket of her jeans.
Hurrying back inside, Chloe was torn between wanting to run to the bathroom to read Evan’s message and knowing she had to go back to the living room and talk to Daniel as if nothing had happened.
“Any mail?” Daniel called.
Chloe stood in the doorway. “Just some flyers.”
“Let’s see.” As she walked across to hand him the flyers, his gaze dropped to her pocket.
She glanced down involuntarily. Damp splotches darkened the faded denim. Swiftly she picked up Brianna and started to move away.
“Nothing else?” Daniel’s voice was deceptively casual.
Her back to him, Chloe surprised herself when she was able to answer lightly, “No.”
It was the first time she’d ever lied to Daniel—a stupid lie since he’d already caught her out. The letter from Evan in her pocket made her feel as if she had a scarlet A emblazoned on her forehead. She knew she was wrong to cling to the memory of Evan but between Daniel and Brianna, she had no life of her own any more. Couldn’t she have this one reminder of her old life?
“Chloe?” Daniel said softly.
“I’m going to put Brianna down for her nap,” she said, ignoring his unspoken plea. “Then I’ll have a bath.”
She tucked in Brianna and left the little girl murmuring softly to herself, then went to run a bath. Lavender-scented bath oil mingled with the stream of gushing water, filling the room with fragrant steam. Her blood humming in her veins, Chloe locked the door and stripped off her clothes.
She slit open the letter with a nail file, then eased herself into the tub, taking care not to get water on the flimsy writing paper. Banging erupted in the kitchen, followed by Daniel’s muttered cursing. Chloe frowned at the closed door, worried the outburst would wake Brianna. She waited, tense and listening, until the noise abated.
Darling Chloe, she read, as she sank a little lower in the hot scented water. I’m writing this by flashlight, as the generators have been turned off for the night. I know you told me not to write, but I can’t help myself. Your photo is among my few personal possessions on the wooden crate next to the army cot that is my bed.
You must have had your baby by now. Did your labor go all right? Does the baby look like you? Girl or boy? Not a day goes by that I don’t berate myself for being halfway around the world when you needed me.
We’re working sixteen-hour days in the most appalling conditions. The only thing that makes life bearable is the human contact. Jumma, the young Darfur boy who runs errands between the operating tent and the doctor’s quarters, regularly has us in stitches…. Evan went on to relate a series of anecdotes that had Chloe alternately smiling and shaking her head. The world he described, while unimaginably dreadful, also contained glimpses of humor and humanity. It took her far away from her mundane round of diapers and 2:00 a.m. feedings and the daily routine of making dinner for a husband who, although kind and loving, didn’t know Nureyev from Nabokov.
Finally, Evan concluded, Remember how we talked all night and made love at dawn? I still get excited just thinking of you. I’m consumed with jealousy, knowing that someone else has his hands on your lovely body. Someday, somehow, I swear we’ll be together again. Till then, thoughts of you dance like a butterfly upon my heart. Adieu, sweet Chloe. Forever yours, Evan.
Chloe lay back in the water, the hand holding the letter dangling over the edge of the tub. Oh, Evan. She shut her eyes and could taste again his mouth on hers, feel his hands, sensitive and sure, touching her, arousing her. The letter slipped to the floor as she lost herself in memories of his lithe, strong body, like a god, like an angel. His laughter, his golden hair glinting in the sun, the sun-warmed scent of his skin…The images and feelings she created in her mind were so real that she never wanted to open her eyes.
Gradually the water cooled and reality intruded. Chloe sat up, blinking against the light, noticing the cracks in the green tiles, the black mold in the grout, the damp under-the-sink smell that never went away no matter how frequently she cleaned. Suddenly she felt weak and depressed.
Wearily she pulled herself up and looked around for the soap and a washcloth. Lathering soap onto the cloth, she started scrubbing. Tears rolled down her cheeks and fell onto her swollen breasts.
“Chloe?” Daniel’s voice was right outside the door. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she choked out. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“I’m going to get some plywood,” he said and started to open the door. “I need to wash my hands.”
“Wait!” Panicking, Chloe reached for Evan’s letter. Water dripped onto the tile floor and she spoke loudly to cover the rustle of paper. “Can’t you do that in the kitchen?”
“We’re out of soap there.” He paused before curtly adding, “May I come in?”
“Just a second.” Chloe shoved the letter into a drawer in the vanity. Submerging herself in the sloshing bathwater, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “Okay.”
Daniel glanced at the puddle on the floor and then looked at Chloe in the mirror. “You should come out if you’re cold.”
“I will soon.” Halfheartedly she splashed lukewarm water over her shoulders.
He searched the bottom cupboard. “I can’t find the soap. Did you put it in a drawer?”
“It’s in the cabinet,” Chloe said quickly. “I’m positive.”
Daniel glanced over his shoulder at her anxious tone, then moved a package of toilet paper. “You’re right. Here it is.” Carefully he unwrapped a bar of soap and put the paper in the trash. Even then he didn’t leave.
“What is it?” Chloe asked, ready to scream.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Of course,” she said. “Why do you keep asking that?”
His dark eyes searched her face. He shrugged and said simply, “I’ll be back soon.”
She waited until she heard his truck pull out, then got out of the tub. Wrapped in a towel, she removed Evan’s letter from the drawer and tucked it inside a box of sanitary napkins. It was only when she was dressed and combing out her hair that she looked at the reflection of herself and saw her red-rimmed eyes.
Daniel wasn’t stupid. He must have guessed she was crying over a letter from Evan. If only she could talk things over with Daniel, the way she had when they’d met. He’d been so understanding, so compassionate, counseling her not to count on a man who had gone away without making up after they’d fought. What would he advise her to do now?
How do I stop loving the man who’s my kindred spirit? she imagined herself asking Daniel. How do I start loving my husband when we have nothing in common but our child? Was I wrong to marry one man when I love another?
But she could no longer talk to Daniel about Evan. She’d made her choice and it wasn’t fair to have second thoughts. Neither could she rid her heart of Evan, even if she’d wanted to. That was her real crime—she didn’t want to stop loving Evan.
Chloe layered on a woolen undershirt and one of Daniel’s thick flannel workshirts, drew on her heavy corduroy pants and buried her feet in socks and slippers, trying to get warm. She just had time to throw a stew together and get it simmering on the stove before Daniel returned from the building-supply outlet with sheets of plywood.
