Storm's End Read online

  But what she remembered most about the entire ceremony was the kiss at the end of it. It was the first time Blaise had kissed her, an obligatory ending to any wedding service and Julie had expected a mere quick brush of his lips against hers. Instead, it had been a gentle, warm kiss that sent a shock wave of trembling emotions surging through her, and when they parted, he had smiled at her exactly the way she had always dreamed her husband would do on their wedding day.

  Except that theirs had been no ordinary wedding day. Once they were back in the car with Andrew Barclay and headed for Magnolia Way, Blaise had been courteous and pleasant, but once more a distant stranger. When they arrived at the house, Julie had gone at once to her room to change out of her wedding dress and to remove the new rings from her finger, and when she returned downstairs it was to learn Blaise had already left to go to the plant for the day as usual. A few hours later, Julie and her mother were boarding a plane for the brief flight to Houston.

  As though to push the memory of her marriage away from her consciousness, Julie snapped the box shut and shoved it into the depths of her handbag. Then she glanced at a large clock on the wall. Twenty minutes. That was all the time that had passed since she had left her mother's room. In sinking dismay, she wondered if she would have a shred of sanity left at the end of this day.

  From across the room, she heard the rattle of the elevator doors as they rumbled apart, and automatically she glanced in that direction. Several people stepped out into the room and Julie's eyes widened in astonishment as she recognized Blaise as one of them.

  Just the very sight of him, dressed in blue slacks, a paler blue pullover shirt topped by a soft beige jacket, did something crazy to her heart. It tilted precariously with a thrill of joy. He was so absurdly good looking and the very way he carried himself, straight and proud, emanated competence and strength. Julie drew a small measure of strength herself just by seeing him, knowing he was here, realizing she was no longer all on her own.

  He did not see her at once, but turned in the direction of a nurse's station down the hall. Julie jumped to her feet and ran across the room.

  "Blaise!" she called out when she was close enough so that he could hear her.

  He stopped at once and turned toward her. "Ah, here you are!" he said with a slow smile stretching his lips. "I thought perhaps you would be waiting in your mother's room," he added as his own steps carried him to meet her. Now the smile vanished quickly and the dark eyes were intense. "I suppose the operation has already begun?"

  Julie nodded and swallowed hard. "I suppose so. They carried her down to the operating room about a half hour ago." Relief at his presence made her feel weak-kneed and her body swayed toward him. "I… I had no idea you were coming here."

  Both his hands went out to grip hers in a warm, reassuring clasp. "Are you glad I'm here?" he asked softly.

  "Oh, yes!" There could be no mistaking the ring of fervency in her voice. "It's so… so horrible, being here all alone and…"

  "I had no intentions of letting you go through this alone," Blaise stated quietly as he withdrew one of his hands from hers and draped it around her shoulders. Turning her, he guided her back to her chair and he sat down in the one beside it. "I meant to be here earlier," he went on, "to be with you from the beginning, but I got held up on the freeway. There was an accident and traffic was tied up for forty-five minutes. Hey, what's this?" he exclaimed suddenly. "Tears?" He lifted a hand and flicked a teardrop from her cheek.

  "I'm sorry," Julie mumbled, lowering her face. She had not expected such compassion on his part and she was overwhelmed with gratitude and the sudden sense of a heavy burden being lifted from her shoulders. She shook her head and tried hard to get her emotions under control, knowing she could never tell him in words what she was feeling at this moment.

  "Hey," Blaise's voice was soft, yet firm. "She'll come through all this with flying colors, Julie. Believe me."

  "I… I hope so." Her voice trembled.

  "Don't hope… know!" Blaise ordered. "Think positive! Now," his tone was brisk, "have you had any breakfast?"

  Julie shook her head. "No. It was so early and besides, I'm not hungry."

  "That makes no difference at all," he told her decisively. "You have to eat, I am hungry and, anyway, it'll give us something to do to use up some of our waiting time." He stood up, reached a hand down to grasp her arm and hauled her to her feet. "Come on, I spotted a coffee shop downstairs."

  "No, please," she begged. "What if one of the doctors comes to find me and…"

  "It will be hours yet and you know it," he chided her. "But if it will make you feel better, I'll go tell them at the nurse's station where we'll be." Releasing his hold on her, he strode away.

  Julie still stood in the same spot where he had left her when he returned. "That's taken care of," he said. "Now, come on like a good girl."

  "I'm not hungry, I tell you!" The thought of food was abhorrent and all at once Julie was as annoyed with Blaise as she was glad that he was here. Why couldn't he understand that she just wanted to sit here quietly and wait? But he was firmly tugging her arm and pulling her in the direction of the elevator, sublimely ignoring her protests.

  A few minutes later they sat across a table from one another over trays laden with sausage, eggs and coffee. Julie's stomach suddenly rumbled anticipatingly and in spite of her earlier assertions to the contrary, she discovered that she did indeed have an appetite.

  They were silent while they ate, but when they were finished and Blaise had ordered more coffee for them both, he leaned back in his chair and grinned mockingly at her. "So you weren't hungry, hmm?"

  Julie wrinkled her nose at him. "That's enough, Mr. Know-It-All."

  Blaise laughed. "Tell me, what did you eat for dinner last night?"

  "I had roast and vegetables and…"

  "Liar," he said softly.

  "All right," she said resentfully, "so I forgot to eat, but it's no business of yours."

  He cocked a quizzical eyebrow at her. "No?" He asked blandly. "Who has a better right to make it his business than your husband?"

  Julie shook her head. "On paper only," she pointed out. "It hardly gives you the right to arrange my life."

  The waitress arrived with the coffee and Blaise gave her a winning smile with his thanks for the service. Julie disliked the way the young pretty waitress smiled back at him and seemed reluctant to go away, but once she did, Blaise returned his attention to her. "If that's the case," he said, reverting to her statement, "I suppose you're not interested in hearing about the arrangements I've made for your stay here."

  "What arrangements?"

  Blaise shrugged and stirred sugar into his coffee. "I thought you just told me I didn't have the right to…"

  "What arrangements?" she demanded in exasperation.

  Blaise laughed at her. "You're kind of cute when you're angry, you know that?" he teased.

  Julie knotted her fists in her lap, raised her eyes toward heaven in a mute plea for patience and repeated, "What arrangements?"

  "I've rented an apartment for your stay," he told her. "I thought you'd be far more comfortable there than in the hotel. I stayed in it last night myself."

  "You've rented an apartment for me?" Julie's eyes sparked with appreciation. "That's wonderful! But if you were here last night, why didn't you let me know?"

  "It was late when I arrived. I didn't get away from Baton Rouge until after eight."

  "You drove?"

  Blaise nodded. "I'm leaving my car here for your use when I do go back. I can always use Dad's. As for the apartment, I subleased it from a business acquaintance I know who is spending a few months overseas but I didn't want to tell you about it until all the arrangements were finalized. I also couldn't allow you to stay there until the utilities were turned on and the telephone connected. I think you'll like it," he added now. "It isn't as far from the hospital as the hotel and it's convenient to shopping centers."

  "I… I don't know w
hat to say," Julie murmured. "I'm really grateful. It will be much nicer than staying at a hotel the entire time."

  "That's what I thought." Blaise nodded. "I'm glad you're pleased. This afternoon we'll go grocery shop-ping and lay you in a stock of supplies."

  "How long do you intend to stay here?" she asked tentatively. "Will you be going back home tonight?"

  Blaise shook his head. "I'm not sure yet just when I'll go. We'll wait and see how Ruth gets along before I make any decision." He glanced at her coffee cup. "Finished? Then I suggest we go back upstairs."

  The remainder of the time in the waiting room seemed endless. As the hands of the clock crept slowly around Julie became increasingly fidgety and nervous. Fear tightened her stomach into a hard knot. It was only Blaise's calm presence that held her in some semblance of touch with reality. He talked to her and even elicited responses from her, but if she had been questioned later she could never have stated with firm certainty exactly what they had discussed.

  It was nearing noon when one of the doctors Julie had met yesterday came to find her. When she saw him, Julie's face drained of color and she was never even conscious that her hand went out to seek the reassurance of Blaise's.

  "Mrs. Wilder is now in the recovery room," the tired-looking doctor told her. "Her condition is guarded at present, but the fact that she came through the surgery shows she's a very strong individual, and we have every expectation that she will make a full recovery." Now he smiled at Julie. "Why don't you get out of here for a while and come back this evening? By then your mother should be awake and able to see you for a few minutes."

  It was left to Blaise to thank the doctor because Julie was beyond speech. She did not even realize that tears were streaming down her face until Blaise took a handkerchief and gently wiped them away. Then he simply pulled her into his arms and held her for a long time, with one of his hands stroking her silky head. It felt so right being there in the warmth of his arms, with her face against the solid, comforting breadth of his chest that Julie made no protest. The truth was that she could not have done so. She felt weak and shaken from the strain of anxiety that had attacked her body and she was desperately in need of the reassurance and sense of security that was being given her.

  When she finally had sufficient command of herself to pull away at last, she found soft brown eyes regarding her. "Better now?" Blaise asked gently. At Julie's nod, he added, "Good. Now we're going to get out of here. You need some fresh air and a change of scene. We'll come back this evening."

  "I'd rather stay here," she said. "In case…" Blaise shook his head. "You're coming with me. You can't do a thing to help your mother by staying here and, besides, it's doctor's orders." He reached down beside the chair where she had been sitting and picked up her handbag. "First, though," he gave her a tiny smile, "I suggest you go to the ladies room and try to repair the damage brought on by that flood of tears."

  A few minutes later they left the hospital and Blaise drove first to a supermarket where they purchased a large enough supply of food to last several days. Then he took Julie to the apartment.

  The apartment was moderate-sized, with two bedrooms, a large airy living room and a very efficiently arranged kitchen. "Think you can be happy here for a few weeks?" Blaise asked as Julie stood looking about her in the yellow and white living room.

  She nodded. "I'm sure of it." Her smile was wide as she glanced at Blaise. "Thank you again."

  Blaise sat down in a cushioned chair next to a table on which rested a telephone. He reached for it, saying over his shoulder, "While you put away the groceries, I'll call home and let Dad and Bobby know the operation was successful. After that, we'll go to the hotel and collect your things."

  "All right." Julie went into the kitchen and began delving into paper bags and cupboards, content to let Blaise be the one to speak with her grandfather.

  A few minutes later, she had almost completed the task of storing the food when Blaise walked in. "Dad said to tell you that Bobby is settling in quite well. There's a boy about his age who lives a quarter of a mile down the road and they've already made friends."

  "That's good news," Julie said, thinking how lucky that was for Bobby to discover a friend nearby.

  "Dad also said to tell you how delighted he is that your mother came through the surgery all right and that he's praying for her quick recovery."

  Julie turned her back toward Blaise and sniffed derisively. "I doubt," she said, "that it actually matters to him one way or another."

  Without warning, she was jerked roughly around to face him. Blaise's grip on her arms was punishingly severe and there was a hard, angry set to his jaw. "Why, you little ingrate," he snapped harshly, "how can you dare to say such a thing?"

  Answering anger flared in Julie's eyes, darkening them like a storm cloud, and her lips curled at the corners with open scorn. "Oh, I admit he's done a lot for Mom, for all of us, in a material way," she sneered, "but so what? He can afford it! That doesn't mean he's changed so much that he actually cares about my mother, the person! He didn't twenty-two years ago and he doesn't now and there's no sense pretending otherwise!"

  "You can never forgive him for the past, can you?" Blaise said through clenched teeth.

  "Why should I?" Julie struggled to get free of his bruising fingers that were pressing relentlessly into the flesh of her upper arms.

  All at once, her struggling was of a different sort. Blaise released his hold on her so abruptly that it threw her off balance. Julie fell back against the counter, narrowly saving herself from real injury as she missed the stove by scant inches. Once she was upright again, she looked across at Blaise to discover his face filled with dislike that he did not attempt to conceal.

  "Why should you, indeed?" he seconded. "For twenty-one years Dad has longed to know his only grandchild; for twenty-two years he's suffered as a consequence of what he did to his son and daughter-in-law. No one could ever possibly punish him as much as he punished himself, but you'd like to go on trying, wouldn't you? If you ask me," he sneered with total disgust, "Dad got the rotten end of this deal, not you or me. He may have railroaded us into a marriage neither of us wanted, but we know in three years there'll be an end to it. The hell you'd like to condemn him to has no ending. You know, you're not in the least like your mother or your brother."

  "Don't you believe it!" Julie said hotly. "My mother was just as unforgiving as me all these years, remember? If it hadn't been for this illness of hers and her fear of leaving Bobby and me totally alone in the world, she would still feel the way I do. She would never have had a thing to do with Andrew Barclay!"

  "You're wrong there," he told her in an icy voice. "Ruth is made of much softer, finer stuff than you." He gave her a cold smile. "Perhaps it will surprise you to know that all those years she refused to see Dad or allow him to have anything to do with you, all the same she sent him pictures of you from time to time with letters about what you were doing."

  Julie stared at him. "I don't believe you!" she stated flatly. "Mom wouldn't have done that!"

  "No?" There was genuine amusement as he laughed. "When you were ten, you broke an arm by falling out of a tree. When you were fifteen, you won an essay contest and until you were eleven or so, there was a wide gap between your two front teeth."

  Julie gasped. There was no getting around the fact that he knew what he was talking about. Somehow, she couldn't see where her mother had found the opportunity during the past two busy weeks to give a blow by blow account of her childhood. And yet, to think that all those years her mother had kept Andrew Barclay informed of such trivia! It came as a total shock!

  Seeing her confusion, Blaise grinned hatefully. "It's hard for you to imagine, isn't it… that Ruth has that much compassion in her? But that's because you're exactly like your grandfather… hard and stubborn and unable to bend your own prejudices even just a little."

  "I am not like him!" Julie raged. It made her wild to be compared to such an unfeeling man. "I'm not
!" Her arm swung out in an arc but before the blow could find its mark, her wrist was imprisoned in a tight vise.

  Blaise's face came down to a level with hers, and there was white fury around his lips. "I can promise you," he told her in a measured voice, "if you ever strike me, you'll be sorry."

  Julie backed away from him, the black anger in his eyes curdling her blood. He meant what he said. This was no longer the kind and gentle man who had sat with her all morning at the hospital, but a cold and dangerous stranger, and in that moment, she hated him even more than Andrew Barclay.

  Electric anger crackled between them for a long minute during which they glared at one another, and then Blaise broke the current that flowed between them by reaching into his shirt pocket for a cigarette. "If you're about done here," he said in a calm voice that held no suggestion of the threat he had made before, "I'll drive you to the hotel for your things."

  Julie made an effort to calm her own emotions. No matter how much she disliked this man, they had to continue to deal with one another and it made sense to do so on a rational, even level rather than highs and lows. She nodded stiffly. "I'm ready."

  After they checked her out of the hotel, Blaise stowed her suitcases in the trunk of the car and they found a restaurant where they could eat a combination late lunch and early dinner. Then they returned to the hospital around six.

  Ruth Wilder would remain in the intensive care unit for some time to come and when they were shown into her cubicle, Julie was overwhelmed by all the apparatus surrounding her and of her ghostly wan face that seemed whiter even than the bedsheets. And although she was still far too ill to speak, a flicker of a smile touched her lips as Julie approached her.

  "The doctor says you're going to be just fine," Julie said encouragingly as she took her mother's hand. Now she forced a smile to her lips and added, "See who's here with me? Blaise."