Edge of Time (Langston Brothers Series) Read online

  Part of her wished to take back her cruel words and ugly tone. She truly did believe Kirsten was expecting a child, but on the other hand, she could not reconcile that it was Craig’s. Was that naivety? Or a sign that he was telling the truth?

  “Craig?” she whispered.

  He blinked, but nothing more.

  Her heart lodged in her throat, and it suddenly became quite impossible to breathe. His pale stone visage swished in a blurry haze as tears rushed to her eyes. Choking on despair and loneliness she spun and flew from the house.

  * * *

  For an entire hour, Craig stared dumbfounded at a ding in the wall just to the left of his study door, and at the shattered crystal decanter below it. Pregnant. He’d known hadn’t he? Deep in the back of his mind he’d recognized the signs, but denial was a powerful thing. Through years of conditioning, ‘pregnant’ had become something of a dirty word. He’d lost his mother in childbirth, he’d lost his sister-in-law to childbirth—worse, he’d been unable to save her or his nephew. He’d seen countless other disasters due to pregnancy. To lose Marissa that way, see her in such pain…

  Marissa. The vision of a beautiful baby with dark hair and dark eyes floated through his mind. “Marissa,” he called, rising from the steps and stumbling toward the door. “Marissa!”

  * * *

  Sitting on the fluffy green sofa at Carolyn’s house, Marissa was convinced she’d been drained of half her bodily fluids through her eyes. The vision of sheer petrified horror on Craig’s face was impossible to banish from her mind and she couldn’t help but wonder, what was wrong with her? Didn’t he think her worthy of having his child? She’d been glad to find the house empty. She needed this time alone.

  The front door exploded inward.

  “Marissa!” Craig’s shout jarred her upright. “Marissa?”

  A moment later her husband rounded the corner. Haggard and out of breath, he’d obviously sprinted half-way across town. “I’m so sorry,” he gasped, falling instantly to his knees before her, reaching for her.

  “Don’t touch me.” She yanked away from his touch, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her skits. “You’re not even happy about my baby,” she sobbed, turning her face away from him. “Why don’t you just go away and make more beautiful raven-haired babies with beautiful raven-haired Kirsten?”

  “Marissa, my love,” he murmured, ignoring her demand not to touch her, and gathering her into his arms. Tired and miserable, she lacked the energy to fight and let his strong arms support her, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “I want to be happy about our baby. I’m trying to be.”

  “Trying to be happy?” She lifted her head and stared at him from ravaged eyes. She and had never felt more alone than she did in this moment. “Trying? Why is it so difficult for you?”

  “Because I’m scared to death,” he stated, raw honesty glistening in his eyes.

  “Scared?”

  “Terrified.”

  Marissa shook her head. “Craig, I don’t understand.”

  “Marissa, I love you. It’s not being the father of your child that scares me—it’s the thought of losing you.”

  Her eyes widened, heart softening a fraction. “Losing me?”

  “Yes.” His gaze dropped to her belly. “If anything happened to you or our baby…” He shook his head, releasing a long slow breath. “I would go mad. My brother, Davy, lost his wife in childbirth, his son too. I was there. It wrecked him.”

  Tentatively Marissa ran a palm down his shoulder. “How awful. I’m so sorry.”

  He met her gaze. “No. I’m sorry. My reaction to your news was reprehensible.”

  She shrugged. “Well, I might have told you with a bit more tact.”

  “It was a bit of a shock,” he said, “and with everything else going on…” He shook his head. “Marissa, forgive me.” He clasped her hands in his, imploring her with his eyes. “I behaved as a total ass.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I’ve been drinking too much.”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “All right, I deserve that.” The flicker of a smile lit his mouth. “Let me make it up to you. Please, come home?”

  Pursing her lips she shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

  Devastation reflected in his gaze. “After the way I’ve behaved that’s probably fair. What if I take a day’s leave? Will you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

  Sighing heavily she glared at him through a veil of glittering tears. “What for?”

  “So we can be together. Talk.”

  She hesitated, warring within herself. Finally she nodded briefly. “All right, if you can get the day off I’ll spend it with you.”

  Edge of Time 230

  Sixteen

  “Full house. Read ‘em and weep!” Marissa laughed gleefully, spreading three jacks and two kings across the table in their lavishly decorated parlor.

  “How do you win every time?” Craig shook his head and tossed his shirt across the table. He’d already lost his shoes, socks, jacket and belt to her and he was fairly certain she was cheating. She must be cheating, but after groveling on bended knee—literally—to persuade her to spend the day with him, he wasn’t about to point it out. Winning never failed to put her in a good mood.

  If it killed him this would be a pleasant afternoon.

  Marissa blatantly ogled his shirtless form and her heated gaze burned across his flesh. “I must say, Craig, I have never seen a sexier man.”

  He quirked a curious brow. “Sexy. Is that one of your future words?”

  “Yes.”

  “I gather the meaning is much as the word sounds.”

  Marissa winked in response, toying with the cards.

  “You are driving me mad,” Craig growled, and wondered at the sly smile on her face as he watched her shuffle and whip the cards in front of him. He was dying for a winning hand. Starving to see something. Lifting the five slippery cards he, scanned them. Aha! Aces and eights. This should be a winning hand!

  “I fold.” Marissa grinned devilishly and slapped her hand down on the table.

  “No!” Craig feigned outrage “You can’t do that!”

  “Sure I can. I just did,” she said with a sassy flip of her hair, and a finger pointed at his chest. “You, sir, are a terrible poker player.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t bluff. I saw in your face you must have a pretty good hand.”

  “Really.” Craig leapt from his chair tried to grab her. Feinting to the right, he was ready when she dashed to the left. He swept her into his arms. She wrapped hers around his neck, and together they laughed. “Do you still think I can’t bluff?” he asked.

  Marissa splayed a gentle hand across his bare chest and turned dark eyes to him with a warm glow of expectation he’d almost forgotten. She tilted her face up until her warm breath mingled with his own. She coasted caressing finger-tips up his arms and across his shoulders. Parting her lips, she ran the tip of her tongue over them.

  With a growl, Craig swept her off the floor, bounding up the stairs. He wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to reach the bedchamber, as their lips never parted, but they made it. It took him far less time than a poker hand to divest her of her clothing.

  She was so beautiful and willing and he needed her as he’d never needed anyone or anything. He had to know, to feel, that there was hope for them, for their marriage. It had been so long since he’d kissed her this way, and oh how he wanted her.

  He lowered her back onto the bed clothes, settling over her soft frame. She wrapped her legs around him, wriggling into position without preamble. God, she must want this as much as he.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! A meaty fist pounded their front door.

  Craig sagged against her. “Can we just ignore it?” He pressed a
hungry kiss upon her neck, fully intending to do just that.

  “Dr. Langston!” an urgent voice called. “Doc! You’re needed!”

  Marissa groaned. “I guess that’s a no.” She pulled him to her for a last kiss before he quickly donned a shirt and galloped down the stairs.

  Craig yanked the door open. A short balding man with a dusty hat clutched in his hands danced nervously from foot to foot. Craig nodded in greeting. “How can I be of service, Mr. Walters?”

  “Doc, it’s an emergency! There’s been an accident out at my place, and my boy… his arm is hurt awful bad.”

  Craig nodded, beating back the frustration he’d have to cut his afternoon with Marissa short. “Give me a moment to gather my bag and I’ll come with you.”

  A moment later he returned the bedroom. Marissa lay expectantly upon the sheet. “You have to leave?”

  “Yes. Horace Walters has an emergency he needs me to attend to. If I know Mr. Walters, it’s not much of an emergency and I should be home within the hour.” Pausing to sit on the bed, he gathered her onto his lap and bestowed a loving caress upon her lips. “Wait for me, love?” Craig hated to leave his wife, so willing and pliant in his arms. The strain of the last few weeks seemed but a distant memory at the moment and he was anxious to begin mending the rift between them.

  “I’ll be here.” Marissa’s eyes sparkled with such promise that his heart lurched. She sat up on the bed and he took one more moment to run his hands through her waist length silken hair.

  “I wish I could come with you,” she said. “I miss working.”

  Craig sighed and stood again, before temptation overcame him. “It will get better, Marissa. I promise.” He stroked her cheek. “Just be patient. I’m sure cooler heads will soon prevail and you’ll be working with me again before you know it. I’ll have you so busy you’ll regret ever wanting to work!”

  Smiling, she pulled the coverlet over her naked form. “You’d better get going. Mr. Walters’s emergency may be more serious than you think.”

  * * *

  Marissa listened to his booted feet thump down the stairs and the slam of the door behind him. She sighed, disappointed he’d been called away, but happiness than she’d felt in weeks, thinking of the time she and Craig had spent together that day.

  Bored, Marissa dressed and wandered into the kitchen. Craig had given his household servants the day off so she was completely alone in the house. She opened a few cupboards, wanting to make cookies, but baking supplies were scarce with the Union blockade of the coast. Instead she pumped water from the pump out back, set the water to boil in a large pot and plunked a chicken into the pot. Stew was one of the few dishes she could make on her own. She sliced a few vegetables—carrots, potatoes and leeks, and then cleaned up after herself.

  Craig’s hour stretched into two.

  Dropping onto a chair, Marissa crossed her arms, longing for some other sort of diversion. She reflected on the ways she’d found to pass time in her earlier life.

  “I miss watching Law and Order in the afternoon,” she grumbled, liftinga book from the end table and leafing through it. Nothing but pictures and descriptions of birds. She couldn’t watch television, or listen to the radio, or waste time on the computer. That left reading. When was the last time she’d read anything purely for pleasure? Wandering to the bookcase she perused the titles, absently lifting a copy of Pride and Prejudice from the shelf. The movie had been one of her favorites and now it was oddly comforting to find something familiar between the pages of a book. With a sigh she flopped onto the sofa and waited impatiently for Craig to return.

  Presently, another knock at the door sounded. In her good mood Marissa never thought to peek through the window. Expecting Genie or Carolyn, she opened the door with a smile and grimaced as Kirsten Jamison’s violet gaze met her own.

  With clenched teeth Marissa let go all pretense of civility. “What do you want, Miss Jamison?”

  As if pleased to see the Marissa so rankled Kirsten smiled sweetly. “Is Craig at home? I’m afraid he wasn’t at the hospital this afternoon when I stopped by for our usual visit, and he hadn’t mentioned that he would be away. As you know we still have much to discuss.”

  The desire to throttle Kirsten was so strong Marissa had to clasp her shaking hands behind her back. Fighting to maintain her composure, she said, “My husband was spending the day at home with me, but he was called away for an emergency.”

  Kirsten shrugged her shoulders. “Then it’s safe to assume he’ll return in the next few hours? That being the case, I’ll stop by later. Tell him to expect me around five o’clock. Oh, and Marissa, I would appreciate it if you weren’t present for the discussion.”

  Seething, Marissa enunciated each word of her reply in a slow, strained tone, “You will not be welcome in my home later today or at any other time. If you wish to speak with my husband somewhere else, I will be present during any communication between you.”

  Kirsten narrowed her eyes menacingly. “Just tell Craig I’ll be by later.”

  Stepping back Marissa clipped, “Good day,” before heaving the door in Kirsten’s face.

  Shaking with outrage, Marissa hurled the book into the wall. “That little bitch!”

  * * *

  A chuckle of amusement escaped Craig as he stepped off the porch of Mr. Walters’s house. The “emergency” had been little more than a sprained wrist and by the time he’d arrived the boy afflicted with the injury had been bounding happily about the yard, clearly not in need of medical attention. Just the same he evaluated and wrapped the child’s wrist.

  “No more climbing trees, Timmy.” Craig knelt to the boy’s eye level. “You’re lucky you didn’t break that arm.”

  Timmy gave him a sheepish grin. “Yes, sir.”

  “All right then.” Craig ruffled the lad’s dark mop of hair and stood. “Run along then. Your mama is waiting.”

  Striding back through the city on his way home, Craig was in better spirits than he’d been for quite some time. A half hour later, he entered his home and founds Marissa rampaging through the house, wrestling with a chair too large for her to handle. Perplexed, he asked, “Why are you rearranging the furniture again?”

  She whirled, startled, snatching up the cards they’d been using before and flung them at his feet. “Have you ever played fifty-two card pick-up?” Before he could reply, she kicked at the scattered deck, strewing the cards farther and glared daggers at him.

  “Your little girlfriend stopped by and told me to pass along a message for her.” Her tone was all pain and brittle as ice. “She’ll be back later, around five o’clock, to discuss your child. Tell me, darling husband, why does she feel free to drop by any time if she hasn’t had any encouragement?”

  “Whoa,” he held up his hands up to shield himself from her tirade. Girlfriend? “Kirsten Jamison was here?”

  “Yes! Apparently she stopped by the hospital for her ussuuaal visit with you, and was disappointed not to find you there. Are you certain it’s for my safety you’ve kept me from going to work? Or is it your personal privacy you’re protecting?”

  “Just because she comes to the hospital doesn’t mean I see or encourage her. We do not have ‘usual’ visits, or even unusual ones, not if I see her coming first.” Craig stalked forward, defensive. “Don’t you see that she is trying her damndest to drive us apart? For Christ sake, Marissa isn’t it obvious that you are playing right into her hands and giving her what she wants? Kirsten knows goddamn well that I have never shown any interest in her much less touched her—”

  “Never touched her? No, you were just found in her bed!”

  He narrowed a piercing gaze on her. He would not be baited into that familiar argument again. “She wouldn’t be so brazen if she wasn’t completely desperate.” Throwing his arms up in defeat Craig turned away from his wife. “This is hopeless. Do you think so li
ttle of me, Marissa?”

  After storming righteously from the room, Craig realized he’d probably destroyed all ground gained that afternoon. Even now she was probably preparing to go back to Carolyn’s house. Drifting into his study, he sank heavily into the comfortable leather chair. Letting his head drop into his hands, he let out a long breath. He’d sworn to be patient with Marissa, to be understanding and help her through the hurt of her past because he loved her.

  But he was sick and tired of being patient!

  She was… what exactly? The air? Heaven? His reason for breathing?

  She was lightning strike.

  She’d certainly struck him like lightening. One afternoon he’d blinked his eyes and in a flash she’d been there. Literally. His eyes had been open walking across a wide open field and the next—bam—there she was bright, vivacious, and so goddamn beautiful he would never be sure if she knocked him over or he fell for her—literally and metaphorically—right then and there. He’d just returned from a miserable tour with the Army of Northern Virginia and he’d wanted, needed, the incredible ray of sunshine that seemed to follow her everywhere. He’d wanted to fall in love with her.

  Willed it into being.

  Leaning back in the chair his gaze fell to the photograph of himself and his brothers taken before the war. Marissa must have moved it in one of her cleaning frenzies. With a sad smile he lifted the picture and studied the faces. It had been months since he had received word from any of them. Curtis had been officially reported missing last November, which realistically was a notification of his death. While Craig knew he would never hear from Curtis again, the hope that Davy and Jake hadn’t suffered a similar fate dwindled by the day. Marissa had helped him hold to some of that hope, but with her drifting away that last bit of hope began to wane.

  Sensing a presence he raised troubled eyes to the doorway and gazed wearily at Marissa standing quietly just outside the room, her expression unreadable. Setting the tintype on the desk he said, “Marissa?” Damn! He hadn’t meant for her name to sound like a question. “Are you staying?”