woman. Call it lust or love-he would burn for Perry until the fire was quenched. Judging from the depth of his flame, it might take a lifetime to quench.
Chapter 25
Perry silently tiptoed up the dusty attic steps. Reaching the top, she jerked Hunter's necklace from around her neck as though it were burning her flesh. She threw the shining disc as far into the dark attic as it would sail and had the satisfaction of hearing it hit a wall and fall to the floor. Feeling her way to two large trunks, she slid between them like a frightened child hiding from the world.
She waited, listening for footsteps. Slowly, as the moments ticked by silently, Perry relaxed. Curling her knees to her chin, she wrapped her slender arms around her legs and buried her face in her lap. Emotions churned within her like beans in a coffee grinder, colliding into one another until all were split open and raw. Love and hate ground together with a newfound feeling: passion.
Nothing had felt more wonderful than being in Hunter's arms. The warmth of his mouth exploring hers had been explosive, as were his strong fingers moving over her body, setting a fire wherever they touched. Yet how could she forget the pain that shot through her when he thought he could buy her love?
Ten minutes passed before Perry heard a sound. She lifted her head to listen to the familiar sound of Molly's steps. After pausing to catch her breath, the woman emerged carrying a chubby candle and two steaming mugs.
The candle spread its pathetic light in a small semicircle in front of Molly as the steam from the cups floated the aroma of chocolate in the air.
'Miss Perry,' Molly said briskly, 'better crawl out of your hole and take one of these mugs of hot chocolate before they burn all the fat off me fingers.'
Rising, she joined Molly and accepted the mug gratefully. 'Thanks. Did anyone follow you?' Perry didn't even try to hide her tearstained face from Molly's sharp eye.
'Naw,' Molly answered. 'I sent all them men on a wild-goose chase. It'll cool their blood to tramp around in the rain.' Molly took off her multicolored shawl and placed it around Perry's shoulders.
'Now, child, you sit over here and let's have a little talk.' She led Perry to a corner of the attic where furniture was stored. Pulling out two paint-chipped chairs, they sat down.
'But, Molly, won't you be cold?' Perry was reluctant to take her shawl.
'No, no.' Molly shook her head. 'I've got enough meat to warm me through two winters.' She patted Perry's knee, thankful that Perry cared about her. She'd seen many a lady take everything that folks did for them as if it were their due. Perry always worried about Molly. The old woman had never had such a love given to her.
'Don't know why you'd come up here,' Molly mumbled as she settled into her chair like a hen squatting over a full nest. 'This place always smelled funny to me, but I never have been able to figure out why.''
'Probably all these old sea trunks.' Perry downed half the dark liquid in the cup and waited for the old woman to speak her mind.
'I saw your man, Hunter,' Molly stated, never one to ease into a subject.
'He's not mine,' Perry lifted her chin. 'I never want to see him again.' The words sounded hollow, even to her.
'Do you love him, child?'
'I don't know,' Perry whispered, more to herself than to Molly. 'I know he's in my thoughts most of the time. But what he feels for me is not love. It's only lust.' Her sad brown eyes looked at Molly for an answer.
The old woman drew herself up as straight as a schoolmarm. She thought for a long minute, then replied. 'Now listen, dear. I don't know nothin' about books and the like, but you might say this here is my specialty. Love be somethin' that strikes a body now and again, sort of like the flu. Every once in a while someone gets this love illness bad, maybe even till death. Near as I can figure it, not all people got the same amount of love inside 'em. But as far as how you know you really love someone, there's only two tests. If you care more about him than you do yourself, it's love. If he feels the same way about you, then you'll be one of the few people who can tolerate each other through a lifetime.' Molly patted her fat knee as though congratulating herself on a fine speech.
Perry decided it was none of her.business, but she had to ask. 'Were you ever in love?'
Molly rippled with laughter. 'Oh, hell, child, I used to fall in love ever' time I was exposed to the disease.' She stared into the darkness as though looking back through time. 'But I said there were two tests. The other is time. That was my problem. I'd love some man a powerful lot, and the next thing you know, I couldn't stand the sight of him. It was like that with my first husband.'
Perry moved closer to her and put her arm around the old woman's shoulders. 'I didn't know you were ever married.'
'Oh, sure. I was fifteen the first time. He was twenty and farmed next to my folks. My dad said he took my virginity, so he might as well take me. As I remember, I gave him my virginity, but I was in love, and marryin' sounded good at the time.
'After a year of cookin' and cleanin' his cabin I began to wonder how I'd ever loved him. Everything he did started to bother me, till I thought maybe I was going crazy. I lost a baby that year. The doctor said I wasn't full grown and couldn't carry it. Guess it hurt me inside, 'cause I never got pregnant again. You would have thought I was just a cow that wouldn't give milk, the way he treated me after that. He wanted kids real bad, I guess. He wouldn't even talk to me.' The sadness in her voice told Perry how much the loss of a child had hurt her.
'So I just walked out one day, and kept walkin' till I reached Philadelphia. I reckon he must have felt the same way about me, 'cause he didn't follow me.'
'But it weren't six months till I fell in love again. This time he was a handsome sailor. He's the one who taught me to cook. He was a mighty good cook, the opposite of my first husband. No two days with him were the same. We did some wild living in those days. Times got bad and he couldn't find a ship to sign on with, so he took it out on me. He'd get drunk and come home. He'd either beat me or rape me pretty near every night. Well, I figured I could do better on my own. Hell, if I'm going to have sex with a drunken brute every night, I might as well get paid for it.' Both women laughed, and Molly could see that her chatter had taken Perry's mind off her own problems, as she'd planned.
Molly rose and stood by Perry. 'What say we get a good night's sleep and worry about matters of the heart tomorrow?'
'Sounds good.' Perry hugged Molly as she stood. She knew it would be hours before she slept, but at least Molly could get some rest. The old woman had cheered her greatly. Sometimes it seemed that people who got knocked down the most in life got back up the quickest. Molly was a fighter and made Perry herself feel stronger.
At the attic stairs Perry halted and turned around. 'Wait just a second!' she yelled over her shoulder as she headed in the direction in which she'd thrown Hunter's necklace.
Molly followed, curious as to what Perry could need in the attic. She held the candle high, for she had never ventured into this part of the storage area. Stacks of paper lay between broken furniture and old wicker baskets. 'I'm beginning to think Henry and his wife never threw anything away.' Molly grumbled as she maneuvered her bulk between the stacks.
Perry could see the glittering gold of Hunter's necklace behind a broken bed frame propped against the far wall. 'I threw my necklace over here,' she whispered. This part of the attic was a dusty graveyard of abandoned items. A chill ran through her as she moved across the icy floor.
'You be careful, now. Don't want any of this junk tumbling down on us,' Molly called as she followed. 'I'll have Luke carry out some of this and burn it tomorrow. I won't sleep good knowing all this might fall through the ceiling on me.'
Perry reached between the wood slats to retrieve her necklace. Her fingers dangled just above her treasure. 'Molly, could you set the candle down a minute and help slide this bed frame out of my way, please?'
'Sure,' Molly answered. As they strained to push the frame aside the candle cast shadowy, deformed replicas of the women on the wall behind them. Molly grunted and the frame slowly scraped across the dusty floor. A screeching noise set both women's nerves on edge as they moved the huge oak bed frame.
