Forbidden by R.R. Banks (56)

Chapter Ten

 

Holly

 

 

"Look at this," I said as Graham walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.

"What is it?" he asked.

"'I'm reading the latest issue of the Holler Holler. Anyway, do you remember when Boom Boom picked us up and he asked if we had seen his brother BillyBob?"

"Yeah," Graham said. "Looked exactly like him…"

"But not like him at all. Right. I found out what happened to him."

I held the paper out to Graham, pointing out the recipe that I had just read.

 

Boom Boom Badge's Whiskey Gingerbread BillyBobs

A favorite every year at the Cookie X-Change, these cookies are adapted from a recipe from Boom Boom's Grand-Mawmaw. They are named for his dear big brother BillyBob who was last seen streaking across Old Man Johnson's back field to go skinnyfishing, his combination of skinny dipping and ice fishing. Annual vigil to be held next Thursday by the cow pond. Thank you to Boom Boom's younger brother Boo and sisters Bernadette, Bernice, Bambi, and Bargret for the serving suggestions. Particularly protecting BillyBob's dignity with festive clothing.

 

You'll need

 

 

Boom Boom's sisters recommend serving your BillyBobs alongside a nice hot toddy or a cup of eggnog. If you are so inclined, make up some simple icing and make little clothes on your BillyBobs. While this won't be exactly accurate to the events as they unfolded, it is a bit more appropriate if you will be in delicate company. If you are adding clothes, don't roll the dough in sugar before forming them, since that will just make them far too sweet and while we love BillyBob and hope he didn't skinnyfish his way to Glory, he just wasn't always that sweet, especially with this much whiskey involved.

 

"Those sound delicious," Graham said, handing the newspaper back to me.

I felt my cheeks flush and looked away.

I turned the page to the next segment, another holiday recipe.

 

 

Hiram Berkowitz's Christmas Morning French Toast

 

 

Now this recipe comes from a story of seasonal brotherhood and joy that is just so wonderful it would touch the cold, shriveled-up soul of Ebenezer Scrooge himself. Well, you know, before he got all scared to hell by Marley with his chains and got that crippled boy the turkey. That's a good story right there. You should read that one. But this one's pretty good, too. And I want to say that that Marley fellow was Jewish, too, so what I'm saying is we've kind of got our own little Hollow Christmas Carol. Anyway, back to the story. It all started when Miss Ruby Belle Buchanon found out that Hiram Berkowitz didn't have any plans for Christmas. Now, we all know why, but at the time Miss Ruby Belle was 102 and not all with it anymore. Being our only Jewish hollow neighbor, Hiram hadn't really gotten around to establishing much of Hanukkah tradition in his few years here, but he was happy to join Miss Ruby Belle for her Christmas morning. He even brought along a loaf of his fancy braided bread that had won him the Whiskey Hollow Baking Contest that spring. He named that bread in honor of his award and it's available at his bakery, so go ahead and grab some to make this recipe.

So, anyway, he showed up at Miss Ruby Belle's home that morning and discovered that she was having one of her flaky days and had put together cracker, peanut butter, and M&M sandwiches and put them in little brown bags for him to take to school with him. Of course, Hiram had been out of school for quite some time, but he went along with it to not hurt her feelings. After holding his paper bag and walking around the house a few times, he went back inside and found her back in her right mind, but upset that she didn't have any Christmas morning breakfast for him. Hiram took that loaf of bread, grabbed up a bottle of moonshine eggnog, a few eggs right out from under Miss Ruby Belle's prized laying hen, also Ruby, and whipped up the most delicious French toast to ever be eaten before opening a stocking full of walnuts and handmade beeswax candles.

 

You'll need

 

 

Edit: Hiram tells us that if there is an issue with slices that are too thin, and they start falling apart, just go with it. Rip up the bread and tuck it down in the mixture until it looks pretty balanced, put in a buttered dish, and bake at 350 degrees until cooked through and crispy on top. Christmas bread pudding.

 

Reading the story had brought another glimmer of sadness into my heart and I folded the newspaper, putting it aside and standing.

"I'm going to get some breakfast," I told Graham.

Without waiting for him to respond, I put on my coat and headed out. It had snowed even more in the early morning hours and it took me several minutes to make my way all the way to the building. I was breathing heavily by the time that I got there and started to rethink the extra pancakes that I had been planning on eating that morning.

No. Just think of all the extra calories I'm burning going through the snow. I need those pancakes. Carbo loading.

The breakfast room was just as crowded as it had been the day before and I noticed many of their eyes were on me as I made my way through to a table. I could only assume that these people were in attendance the morning before and had witnessed the chase. I sat down to eat my breakfast and seconds later Day came into the room.

"How are you this morning?" she asked.

"Doing fine, thank you. How are you?"

"Fine. Excited for tonight's festivities."

"What's going on tonight?" I asked, taking a sip of my orange juice.

"The Grand Illumination and Cookie X-Change!" she gushed. "You and Graham will have to come out to see it."

"I don't know," I said. "I'll tell Graham about it, but I'm not sure that I'm feeling up to it."

"Why not?"

The giddiness was gone from her voice and Day suddenly sounded stern and serious again.

"I'm kind of lacking in Christmas spirit," I told her.

“To be honest, I don't believe that for a second. You'll come tonight, I’ll call Rue to give y’all a lift."

It wasn't an invitation, but a command, and I suddenly felt like it was being presented as a condition of my room rental. She stood and walked to another table, making her rounds around the breakfast room. Graham came in as I was finishing up. He dropped down into the chair across from me and let his phone scuttle across the table.

"Still no wi-fi. I've called Bryan so many times that he's not answering, but even when he was, he couldn't find any flights or even cars that are willing to come out here. The forecast says that more snow is coming, so it seems like we're going to be staying for a while longer."

"Yay," I said.

"What's that look?" he asked.

"Apparently, we have to go to something called a Grand Illumination tonight," I said.

He shrugged.

"That sounds like it could be fun."

"Day didn't specify what is being illuminated."

"Come on, Holly. You can stop acting like you are the coal in the bottom of someone's stocking. If we're going to be here for the next few days, we might as well make the most of it."

Graham and I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon going through the notes that he had made about the letters to Santa that we had snagged from Coy. That finished, we caught a ride with Boom Boom and Cornelius back down to the village and visited Bambi for a showing of Ghostbusters 2. I had almost forgotten about that night's event until we got back to the motel.

"I read about your brother in the paper," I said to Boom Boom as we climbed out of the wagon. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh, thank you, Holly. I appreciate your thoughts. I'm telling you, this time he sure has been causing trouble."

"This time?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. BillyBob's got a way with disappearing. Usually it's nowhere near this long, though. I'm sure hoping we find him soon. Not that I'm not happy that I found you two the night that I did, but between us and Cornelius, that ride up to the train station is getting a bit dull. You two are definitely the most exciting thing that's happened up there in recent recollection."

I smiled at him.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"You should," he said sincerely. "Especially since the next most recent exciting thing that happened before you was when Ella Mae Eckhardt tried to win back her husband's affections by tying herself to the train tracks and pretending that the stable boy had done it to her. Of course, the bottom fell out of her story real quick because it was the stable boy who had been the one to tempt those affections away from Miss Ella, and he was otherwise occupied when she was trying to lash herself to the tracks with his best Sunday tie. I'm telling you, that special edition issue of the Holler Holler was a doozy. People were talking about it for weeks."

"Scandalous."

He nodded.

"You and Graham going to the Illumination tonight?"

I sighed.

"Seems so. Rue's coming to get us a bit before."

"You don't sound too excited about it."

"I'm going to miss my cruise," I said.

"Was there a cruise going out of Whiskey Hollow tonight?"

"No, I was traveling on the train to get to the port city for an island cruise."

"Oh. OK. I was wondering because I could swear that Shannon Buffet gave up on trying to start his cruise line when his first boat fell apart on its maiden voyage."

"Is there a big body of water around here somewhere?" I asked.

"Just the lake, the creek, and the swamp. Therein lies the problem."

"Well, where I was going there was the great big ocean in front of me and I was really excited to go spend some time in the sun."

"That doesn't sound very Christmassy."

"Exactly."

"You don't see it yet, do you?"

"See what?"

Boom Boom's eyes lifted over my head briefly and then back to my face.

"Exactly. I'll be seeing you there."

"See you soon. Bye, Cornelius."

The turkey didn't say goodbye as they pulled away. He was too dignified in his new blue and white striped scarf.

When I turned around, I saw Graham standing at the doorway waiting for me.

"You need to get ready. Rue's going to be here soon."

There was something heavy in his voice and I looked at him quizzically as I walked toward the door.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'll be out here waiting."

 

There was nothing lit up as we followed behind Rue, Richard, Clementine, and Boom Boom toward the center of the village.

"I thought this was an Illumination," I said.

"It is."

It was an unfamiliar voice and I turned to see a man who could see the light at the end of the tunnel of middle age and seemed to be wearing the same clothes from when he entered that tunnel coming toward us.

"Evening, Cletus," Boom Boom said.

"Graham, Holly, Cletus is just about the best mechanic in or around the hollow," Rue said.

"Just about?" Cletus asked.

"Well, can’t forget ol’ Jeb can we. Plus I wouldn't want you getting a big head." She laughed and looked at us again. "He's also the one who sold Richard the truck that Clementine was almost born in."

"I'm still holding out for my finder's fee."

"I've told you before, Cletus. You did not find my baby. I knew where she was the whole time."

"I still thought that this was an Illumination," I said, trying to bring the conversation back around to where it started.

"It is," Cletus said again.

"Then why are there no lights?"

"Because the Illumination hasn't happened yet," Cletus said. "If the lights were already on, it would be called an Illuminated."

We finally made it to an open area with a glowing fire and logs set up around it. There was something set up behind the fire, but in the darkness, I couldn't see what it was.

"Take a log," Rue said.

I sat on one of the logs and Graham settled beside me. I was extremely aware of the warmth of his body against the cold of the night and I felt a tremble that had nothing to do with shivering in the chill.

We had been sitting for a few minutes when I saw a figure step up in front of the fire. It took a moment to recognize that it was Coy. He now had a length of silver tinsel wrapped around his waist and a scarf embedded with tiny battery-operated lights looped around his neck. He held out his arms, looking for all the world like a geriatric snowman, and the crowd fell silent.

"Good evening everyone. Those of us who had the privilege of growing up in Whiskey Hollow know the story of why we celebrate the Grand Illumination, but since we are lucky to have so many visitors and new friends with us this holiday season, I'm going to retell the tale for everyone."

There were a few scattered cheers throughout the crowd.

"Alright, alright. Here we go. Gather your youngins, and I will tell, the story of the flaming Christmas bell." He took a breath. "OK, that's enough of the rhyming. There are some words in here that I can't rhyme. So, we had ourselves a bit of a time getting a Liberty Bell in the first place on account of us technically, but not really, but sorta not being a part of the United States anymore. Our reasons being rooted entirely in aggravation over the aftermath of the Second Whiskey Rebellion. Apparently, our formal letters of resignation had been lost in the mail, and how someone could be so terrible of a person to lose mail I'll never understand, and there was a bunch of confusion among hollow folks when the Army showed up and made camp. We figured we were under attack, and they were just escorting a bell to some other city. So, in order to avoid a fight, a bunch of the old boys got together with the Army boys all sly-like, and got them blind-eyed drunk on moonshine. While them boys were passed out, the old Holler boys carried them off to Everton and they woke up embarrassed, lost, and without their big bell.

Well, now we had this giant bell that the old boys carried into the center of town, and there was a big party about how we had outsmarted the Feds, and everybody got predictably drunk and one thing led to another again. Next thing you know, somebody, and I won't say who, but legend has it their last name rhymes with 'Padge', had fallen asleep on top of a pile of hay down by the bell with a lit cigarette in their mouth. This was before they had learned the dangers of the devil tobacco and we can't really blame them their oversight because they hadn't yet written those little warnings on the cigarette boxes. But anyway, that hay caught fire and sent a blaze ten feet tall around the barn he was in and burned all the way next door, where the armory was.

Now, the Army boys had gathered themselves up by this point, and it being Christmas Eve, they were pretty sore about being away from home and knowing they were going to get a good screaming to about losing that bell. So, after a bit of investigating, they found out about the hollow and had gathered themselves up to go charging in and take the bell back. Well, low and behold, the second they get into the middle of town, in the dead of night, freezing as it was, the fire had reached the armory and had lit all the gunpowder up. The explosions were so danged loud that it sounded like God Almighty himself had come stomping down to yell at everybody, and the Army boys turned tail and ran as far as they could. The fire burned up real good and sent itself blazing back toward the bell, which then turned a bright, bright red with heat and glowed so much that people from all around the hollow came down, figuring they would find out what all the fuss was about with the explosions.

By the time the whole town had gathered, one of the Army boys, who had deserted when the explosions started, came out of hiding, holding a shirt over his head and hanging onto his rifle to steady him so it looked like a big old cane. By the light of the bell, he looked like Moses himself to a bunch of the hollow folk and they spontaneously started singing Christmas carols and celebrating all over again. Nobody had the heart to tell them that they had just mixed up a bunch of Bible stories because it was just such a moving moment. The Army boy, well, he was just happy not to be lynched, and joined in on the festivities.

A few months later, that Army boy became our first ever town sheriff, and by the next Christmas everybody figured since the bell had been such a hit, and had scared off the Army like a miracle, we should turn lighting it up into a tradition. At first it was just a little bonfire underneath the bell, and it'd turn the bell a little red with heat, but by the time electric lights become a big deal, well, we practically invented stringing them up for Christmas. So now, every year, we celebrate the Grand Illumination of the Christmas Bell here in the hollow, and you can see the glow from all the lights clear up to Eagleton. Not that you'd ever want to go up there, though."

I looked up at Cletus where he stood behind our log.

"Did that actually happen?" I asked.

Cletus made an uncertain sound and shrugged.

"Some of that was a little shaky, but he got the core story down. I don't know, though, he's the only one around who claims to have been there when it happened, so who's to say?"

I heard a few creative profanities muttered from behind the bonfire, some cracks and pops, and then suddenly the object behind the fire burst into brilliant light. Now I could see that it was a wooden frame holding what looked like a well-aged bell. I'd spent a few summers in college traveling around the country visiting the Liberty bells that resided in the capital cities of each state. I had to admit that this bell looked remarkably like those, and I had to wonder if somewhere in some hidden government file there was a note about one of the bells going missing.

"Everyone come on up and enjoy some s'mores and hot cocoa" someone called from the side the fire.

"I brought along a couple of festive bottles of Cletus's Clementine moonshine," Cletus said, producing too seasonally decorated bottles of what I could only assume was his personal moonshine.

Nobody seemed eager to accept one from him, but Cletus wasn't deterred. He popped open one of the bottles, pulled a collapsible cup out of his pocket, and filled it up. I expected him to toss it back, but instead, he offered it out to me. I hesitated, and he pushed it towards me with more insistence.

"Come on, Holly, it's your first Christmas in Whiskey Hollow. Clementine moonshine is tradition around here."

"Then why is no one else drinking it?" I asked under my breath, sliding my eyes over to Graham.

"Because everyone else has already participated in the tradition," he answered.

"How about you?"

"Oh, no thank you, I'm not much of a drinker."

I scoffed.

"So only when you're getting on a train?" He looked at me strangely and I nodded. "Oh, yes. I heard you muttering in your sleep. Are you seriously now blaming a glass of gin and tonic for the train breaking down?"

"No," Graham said. "I'm blaming the fact that I didn't get my glass of gin and tonic for the train breaking down." He seemed to think about this for a moment. "And blame actually seems like kind of a harsh word," he said. "Why don't we just say that I think that it is a contributing factor."

I reached out and accepted the cup from Cletus. Bracing myself, I took my first ever swig of moonshine. I immediately felt like I could breathe fire, and the hint of Clementine flavor in the back of my throat was strong enough that I could barely get the cup back into Cletus's hand.

"Delightful," I managed to choke through my throat.

"See? It's delicious. A true Whiskey Hollow seasonal delicacy."

"And an ideal door stop," Rue whispered to me as she passed behind me and walked towards the fire.

Graham and I chuckled as we followed after her, accepting sticks with marshmallows on the ends from a bright-eyed young woman standing next to a table laden with cookies and cups of hot cocoa. We found an empty space around the fire and plunged our marshmallows into the flames. I turned mine around in an effort to get it evenly scorched. When it was flaming, I pulled it out and gently blew on it to extinguish the marshmallow. I peeled small bits of the sticky molten sugar from the stick and brought it between my lips, so I can get off of my fingertips. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Graham watching me and I turned my attention to him.

Our gazes held for a few intense seconds before Rue stepped up beside me and offered me a few segments of a bar of milk chocolate. I dipped my marshmallow back into the fire to warm it up a little and then pressed it onto one of the segments of chocolate. I put it in my mouth and let out a little groan of pleasure as the sweet flavor washed across my tongue.

"Now all you need is a graham cracker," Rue said. "Then you can make yourself the perfect s'more."

I slid my eyes over to Graham, watching him eat melted marshmallow off of his fingers.

"No, I don't," I said.

His eyes moved over to mine and I saw something flicker in them.

Dear lord, what am I saying? What has gotten into me?

I thought back to the night sitting in my apartment when I decided to go on the cruise and talking to Vera about my plans. I remembered her surprise at my willingness, and now I understood her caution. Graham had triggered something in me, lit something deep inside me that I hadn't explored and that I didn't understand. These glimpses of it were coming out almost involuntarily, as if what was coiled up within me have responded to Graham and was now beginning to emerge. The glint in Graham's eye and the power that I felt radiating from his body whenever he was close, brought nerves to my belly that left my mind spinning and my heart pounding. I turned back to the fire and focused on toasting another marshmallow to eat with another square of chocolate.

After we'd gotten our fill of s’mores and warmed ourselves up for the walk back with cups of hot cocoa that may or may not have been spiked with moonshine, the whole group started its way back through the village. We had been walking for several minutes before I recognized that we were on our way towards Bubba Ray's restaurant. As we approached, lights burst to life on the roof of the building. I looked closer and realized that the strands of lights had been meticulously wrapped around what appeared to be a series of various sizes of bowls positioned around the roof.

"Are those bowls?" I asked Rue.

"Yes, they are," Rue said. "That is Bubba Ray's most famous contribution to Whiskey Hollow’s annual Christmas celebrations. They've been up there for as long as anybody can remember."

"Why?" Graham asked.

"You're going to have to ask Bubba Ray about that," Rue said. "But I wouldn't expect the true story. I don't even think he really knows what happened the night those bowls got up on his roof. On a positive note, though, them being up there did lead to the creation of two of the hollow’s most treasured commodities."

"What are those?"

"His chili served in the corn bread bowl and the Christmas bowls."

I was staring up at the Christmas bowls, at once struck by their bizarre beauty and contemplating their origin, when I felt Graham's hand wrap around my wrist. He gave me a hard tug, pulling me back up against him. I gasped in surprise, but didn't step back. Both of his hands flattened to the small of my back and before I could process what was happening, I felt his mouth on mine. His kiss was deep and insistent, unhesitant and bold. I was stunned by it, but even more by the feelings that burst and sizzled inside me as his lips moved across mine and the tip of his tongue gently coaxed my mouth to open. I slid my hands up the hard plane of his chest and over his muscled shoulders, wrapping them around his neck to both hold myself steady and draw him closer to me. Suddenly fear and dark, painful emotions swelled through the back of my mind and into my heart, and I pushed away from Graham. He tried to reach for me, but I stepped away, shaking my head.

"What is it?" he asked.

I tried to answer, but I couldn't bring any words past the tightness of my throat. Instead, I turned away from him and ran. I could hear footsteps pursuing me, and I tried to push faster, but the cold air bit into my lungs and soon I wasn't able to go any further. I stopped and whipped around, but instead of finding Graham behind me, I saw Rue.

"I'm sorry. I would have caught up to you faster, but you have an unfair advantage with those legs of yours. I bet you don't have trouble reaching things on grocery store shelves, do you?"

"More trouble than the girl who tackled Graham," I said.

Rue laughed and nodded. When I didn't laugh along with her, her expression fell, and she took another step towards me.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "What happened?"

I shook my head. I didn't want to admit to her what I was going through or what I was feeling. I didn't even want to admit it to myself, but I knew that there was no way that she would understand.

"Do you think you could give me a lift back to the motel?"

"Of course."

"I'm sorry, I know that you're enjoying the Illumination. I can wait somewhere for you."

Rue shook her head, stepping up to me to loop an arm through mine.

"No, it's okay. Once you've seen a mixing bowl full of multi-colored twinkle lights sitting on the roof of a Mexican-Southern fusion restaurant once, you've kind of seen it. Richard has Clementine. I can take you back."

"Thank you."

We fell silent as we walked to where Rue had parked the truck. I climbed into the front seat beside her and she turn the truck around, starting up the other side of the hollow so that she could avoid the crowd that was still enjoying the lights around Bubba Ray's. We remained quiet for several minutes before she glanced over at me.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure." I shook my head and looked out the window beside me. "No, I'm not sure."

I expected her to interrogate me further, trying to draw an explanation out of me. Instead, she reached over and patted my thigh comfortingly, then continued on down the road.

"That's alright. You can't be okay all the time."

 

We got to the motel and Rue hesitated for a moment before unlocking the door. I turned to look at her and saw her staring at me as if she knew something that I didn't.

"You never really know what's in someone's heart, Holly," she said. "The only way to know is to ask them to show it to you."

I didn't know how to respond. I managed a meager smile and slipped out of the truck then walked towards the room. I prepared myself as I unlocked the door and opened it, part of me hoping that Graham would be inside waiting for me. As the door swung open, however, I realized that the room was dark and empty. I washed my face and changed into my pajamas, shuddering as I got beneath the covers. I lay in the bed trembling, knowing that it wasn't the warmth that was going to soothe me. I drifted in and out of sleep, my mind spinning with a constant reel of Graham and our kiss, and my breakup with Ben. The moments repeated faster and faster until they blended and seemed to have occurred in the same moment. I couldn't separate them. I couldn't focus on either without thinking of the other.

Somewhere in the distance, through my half-waking dream state, I heard a knocking sound. At first, I didn't know what it was, but then I realized it was someone knocking on the door. My mind tried to link the sound to the memories that were coursing through it. As the sound got louder I wondered if I was back in that childhood bedroom with Ben on Thanksgiving morning, trying to focus as I listened to him feebly explain the reasons why he thought that we should no longer be together. Was someone knocking on that bedroom door? Were they listening? Were they knocking to let us know that they were there, that they were witness to what was happening? The thought was humiliating. Even as I tried to let what he was telling me sink in and for it to make sense, nothing that he was saying held any credence. The moment that he started talking I knew the reason. He just wouldn't say it and somehow that made it far worse.

The knocking got still louder, and I heard someone calling my name. The sound of the voice was muffled with my partial sleep, and I couldn't recognize it. Had someone seen Graham pull me into his arms? Were they watching us? Could they see the shock, the surprise, the turmoil, the nervousness? Were they calling my name to stop me because they knew I was making a decision that I would live to regret?

The knocking turned to pounding, finally breaking through my sleep enough that I was able to recognize that it was someone knocking on the motel door and that the voice calling my name was Graham. I realized that I had used the only key to the room to get inside when Rue brought me back and that he could not get in. I reluctantly dragged myself out of the warmth and protection of the bed and walked to the door. Bitterly cold air hit me as I opened it and I retreated back to the covers having barely even looked at Graham. I tucked my head against the pillow, feigning sleep as I listened to him move around the room, go into the bathroom, and then emerge. He settled into the makeshift bed that he had created on the floor and let out a long exhalation.

"What happened, Holly?"

My heart clenched at the sound of the question. I hadn't wanted him to ask it. I wanted to pretend that moment could simply pass us by and that he wouldn't think of it again. But I knew that that wasn't truly an option. I kept my eyes closed, somehow thinking that that would guard me, would keep me from having to experience all of the emotions that were starting to build in the back of my mind and at the edges of my heart.

"I can't do this," I told him.

"What do you mean? Why can't you?"

"What about your wife?"

The word was painful to even say, but it was something that needed to be spoken, needed to be asked. I couldn't stand there and let him kiss me that way, feeling as though he was reaching within me and getting so close to a part of me that had never been discovered, had never been revealed to anyone else, and still imagine that his heart and his mind where with the woman that had once shared his name and who had given him the child who he loved more than anything. When I was getting ready for the cruise, I had fooled myself into thinking that I would be able to throw caution to the wind. I would be able to be that woman who just strolled into one of the bars or one of the nightclubs and took my pick of the men. I told myself that nothing was going to matter. I was going to think only about myself and not worry about anything else. Now, though, I realized that I hadn't been anticipating any emotion. I didn't expect to feel anything as strong as what I was beginning to feel for Graham. I realized that I couldn't do that to myself. Still so raw from my break-up with Ben, I wasn't ready to allow myself to feel something so powerful only to know that soon it would be taken from me and given to someone else.

"My ex-wife," Graham specified.

"Not for long, though, right? You told me on the train that you didn't intend on her being your ex-wife for much longer. You said that you wanted to go to see her so that you could convince her to come home with Charlie so that the two of you could be together again."

"No, Holly. That's what I thought that I wanted, but I know now that that would never work."

"Why not?"

"The longer that we are here, the longer that it is taking me to get to them, the more that I am remembering what life with her was really like. I remember who she was and all of the reasons why I couldn't bear to be with her any longer, how our marriage came to an end. There was a time when it made sense to be married to her and when I thought that I would be able to make it work. But those reasons don't apply anymore."

"What about Charlie?" I asked.

"I wouldn't want my son to watch his parents the way that we were when our relationship was crumbling. Even now I worry that he somehow has memories of those last arguments. The truth is I wanted to convince myself that I could reset everything that had happened. I'm so used to being able to control everything in my life, I figured that I would be able to change everything that happened and make something between us that it never existed in the first place."

I noticed that he hadn't mentioned me, and I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. As much as I wanted to know that there was thought and emotion behind that kiss, that I wasn't interpreting something as existing or growing that had never been there before, I didn't know if I could bear the thought that he was making a rash decision, or that when the snow melted and the train returned, or we found some other way to get out of Whiskey Hollow, the reality of what he had done would settle in and he would change his mind again.

"I'm sorry," I said.

I wasn't even sure why I said it. I didn't know what exactly I was apologizing for, but I felt like I needed to.

"I just don't understand, Holly." I heard him get up and come to the side of the bed. The mattress bent down as he sat on the edge. I could feel his body close to mine. "Why did you push me away? It couldn't just have to do with Brandy."

"Graham, I…" I started.

I was curled on my side, and I felt his hand touch my hip.

"I thought that you felt the same things I did," he said.

"I do. At least I think that I do."

"What do you mean you think you do? Does this have something to do with your ex-boyfriend?"

"No" I said, then hesitated. "I don't know."

"What happened between the two of you?"

"Nothing," I scoffed, "that was the problem."

"What do you mean?"

I sat up, facing him. I couldn't see him clearly in the dark. The glow from the alarm clock was just enough to show me the outline of his face and the shape of his body.

"I told you that my relationship with my parents got worse and worse as I got older, and that I left them behind as soon as I graduated."

"Yes."

"It wasn't just my parents that I pulled away from. As I got older I had learned not to trust anyone. I couldn't truly feel close to anybody. I was with Ben for more than five years and there is a part of me that still feels like we barely knew each other. There was a time when I believed that I really loved him, that this was the way that relationships were supposed to be, but I know now that we never really connected. I never trusted him completely. I never opened up to him. But when we broke up he didn't mention any of that. He didn't say that he felt like we were distanced from each other or that he wanted us to be closer. He said that he needed space, that he needed to find himself. He said that he wasn't able to devote himself to a relationship. I knew what that meant. I knew what he wanted and that I was never able to give him. That I was never willing to give him."

"Holly," Graham started. I felt him slide slightly closer to me across the bed. "When you say that you never trusted anyone, do you mean that you never trusted anyone with your mind?"

"Yes" I said.

"Your heart?"

"Yes," I said, my voice getting softer.

Graham slid closer and his fingertips touch the side of my face and moved over to brush across my lips.

"Your body?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Did he ever touch you, Holly?"

"No."

"Did you ever want him to?"

"No," I admitted.

I felt Graham's hand on the blanket that I had pulled up over my chest. He eased it down so that it settled on my lap.

"Do you want me to touch you?"

I drew in a shuddering breath.

"I don't know."

Graham climbed onto the bed so that he was on his knees beside me and both hands cupped the sides of my face. They felt strong and confident, no hesitation beneath his fingertips. He held my face for a few seconds and then I saw him leaning toward me through the darkness. I tilted my mouth up to accept his kiss, but he paused just before pressing his lips to mine. I felt him brush his mouth over mine, just enough that I was aware of the feeling of our mouths against each other. I let my mouth open and could feel his breath touching the tender inside of my bottom lip. He drew my lip into his mouth only slightly, then kissed me. It wasn't like the first kiss, hungry and explosive. Instead it was grounding, the first touch that told me that he was there, completely and fully, and that he knew exactly what he was doing. There was intention in the kiss, but not urgency. Strength, but not force. He kissed me this way for a few moments and then drew his head back.

"Let me touch you," he murmured. "Let me close to you."

I nodded.

Graham let his hands slide away from my face and down the sides of my neck until they rested on my shoulders. His thumbs stroked along my collarbones, bringing a slight chill to my skin. Leaning forward, he replaced one hand with his lips, kissing his way down toward my chest. I felt my breath deepen, catching in my throat so that I felt almost breathless. Graham's hands slipped just beneath the bottom of my shirt, touching my stomach. I could feel the muscles jump and the curve of his smile against my neck.

"Don't be afraid," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm not afraid," I told him. "I just don't know what to do."

"You don't need to," he said. "It will come to you, and I'll show you."

I felt the pressure of his hands moving up my belly and onto my ribs as I lifted my arms, allowing him to sweep my shirt off over my head. I hadn't worn a bra for bed and the sudden exposure of my bare breasts was almost too much. I lifted my arms to cover them, but saw Graham shake his head.

"Don't cover yourself," he said. "You're beautiful. I want to be able to look at you."

He eased my arms away from my body and I drew in a breath, extremely aware of how the movement lifted my breasts toward him. He noticed as well, and I felt his fingertips touch one of my breasts. They played lightly on the top swell, touching just what had been exposed by the scooped neckline of my shirt. My skin was tingling with his touch and I could feel my nipples tightening, hardening in response. I drew in another breath, trying to regain control of the air moving in and out of my lungs. Graham's hand moved down, and I felt his feathery touch trace along the rim of my nipple, then sweep down to cup my breast fully, holding it in his palm. He kneaded it gently, giving a soft moan of appreciation that sent a thrill through my body to the hot center between my thighs.

Graham's thumb brushed across my nipple and it tightened even more in response to it. He looked at me for a brief moment before ducking his head down to brush his mouth across my breast the way that he had my lips before kissing me. His lips parted, and the heat of his mouth closed over my breast, drawing it in so that he could trace around my nipple with the tip of his tongue. I gasped, my eyes closing as my head fell back. His hand came up and cupped over the other breast, massaging it as he continued to tenderly suck. Moving to my other breast, he repeated the same attention before touching a kiss to the middle of my chest and trailing down to my belly. The muscles there were twitching and shivering, and I felt my inner thighs do the same. Graham kissed down until he reached my pants and then took them, pulling them away from my hips. I squirmed against the bed, now wearing nothing but my panties, and Graham lifted his face so that he was looking into mine again.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"No," I said, shaking my head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to touch you?"

"Yes."

Graham's fingertip traced along the lace edge of my panties from one hip bone to the other and back before dipping beneath the flimsy material to tug them down. He pushed back on his knees and gazed down at me, letting out a long sigh.

"You are incredible," he said.

His voice was low and velvety and in that moment, I felt exquisite. He rested his hand to my belly and then ran it down until it settled just above my center. He used his other hand to guide my thighs apart and I felt the cool air of the room touch my core. I was already hot and wet, and my body was tingling in a way that I had never experienced. I craved something, but I didn't know what. Finally, Graham drew one finger down through my folds and I felt a breathtaking sensation roll through me. I cried out, arching into the touch. He ran his finger all the way down to my opening and then back up, settling onto the sensitive pearl of flesh at my peak and making slow circles. I could feel my body opening, the rush of warmth between my thighs increasing the more that he touched me. His other hand ran down the inside of my thigh.

"I want you to focus on everything that you are feeling," he said. "Enjoy it. Learn what your body likes."

I nodded my consent to his command and relaxed into the mattress, sliding down slightly so that I could rest my head on the pillow. The movement caused my knees to bend, and I felt myself opening even more to his touch. His finger touched my opening and he ran the tip around the edge before dipping it in. He gathered some of my fluids before touching me again, the slick fluid letting his finger glide across me more easily. The sensations were incredible, and I felt like they were building up on top of each other inside of me, gathering and collecting, rushing toward a culmination that I didn't know how to prepare for. Pressure was growing through my belly, hips, and thighs, and I felt myself rolling involuntarily against his hand. The room filled with my gasping cries and suddenly everything within me, all of the sensations, all of the pressure, exploded and I felt my body collapse into a stream of spasms that radiated through every inch of me.

I lay gasping against the pillows and reached up for Graham, I pulled him to me, kissing him deeply, reaching for his trunks. He shook his head and guided my hand away.

"Not tonight," he said. "Your mind is clouded right now. If this is what you want, I need you to have a clear mind and know exactly what's happening."

As my body quieted and cooled, and he settled back onto his bed on the floor, I knew that he was right. This wasn't a decision that I should be taking lightly. I needed to see his face, to taste his kiss, to experience being close to him in the light of day again. Then I could decide if the risk was something I was willing to take.