But she didn’t. She flexed her fingers, then picked up her cup and took a sip. She put it down again, carefully, and said, “I loved Douglas very much. He was my life, and I wanted his children. But he’s dead now, and I—”
She raised her eyes to his and saw that he had read her naked glance and knew what she was about to say. He stopped her.
“Don’t,” he said sharply, and she flinched. He ground out his cigarette in the ashtray and pushed his chair back. “I’m sorry, Annie.” He stood, not looking at her. “Thanks for the tea, but I shouldn’t have come. Not tonight, not the way I’m feeling. I’ll leave now. Tomorrow, I’ll get Tobias to help me, and we’ll cut up that tree and stack the wood to dry.”
She felt a stab of disappointment, as sharp as a knife. She stood, too, tears welling in her eyes. It hurt to breathe and she felt light-headed.
“No, please,” she heard herself say, and the words came as a surprise. She put out a hand toward him, and her wrapper fell open. The lamp flickered again, and the darkness seemed to gather around them like an embrace. “Please, Adam, don’t go. I—”
But he didn’t let her finish her sentence. He was around the table in three steps, pulling her against him, holding her tight, fitting his mouth against hers in a kiss that surrounded her, encompassed her, filled her with a passion she had not felt since Douglas left her. She lifted her arms around his neck and arched against him, giving herself to his kiss, to him, without reservation. She would regret it later, she knew, but tonight she was helpless against her desires, and his. His hands were hard on her, all over her, rough, demanding. And then he was lifting her, carrying her to the bedroom. And in a moment he was naked beside her, over her. And then, with a low, deep moan, inside her.
Afterward, Annie lay in his arms, her head in the hollow of his shoulder. The last years had been a desert. But it was raining again and she was home.
Chapter Seven
For many centuries and in many different cultures, family planning was the most important medicinal use of the seeds of Daucus carota (also called Queen Anne’s lace and wild carrot). The earliest written reference to this plant as a contraceptive can be found in the writings of Hippocrates in the fourth century BCE. In his authoritative book, Eve’s Herbs, A History of Contraception and Abortion in the West, John Riddle (a specialist in the history of pharmacology) writes that the seeds of Daucus carota were among the most effective herbal contraceptives readily available to women. According to Riddle, “The seeds, harvested in the fall, are a strong contraceptive if taken orally immediately after coitus.” The seeds have also been widely used to “provoke menstruation”—in other words, as an early-stage abortifacient.
In an apparent paradox, the leaves and stems of the plant (which contain smaller concentrations of the active plant chemicals) have traditionally been used to enhance fertility. I could find no research on the subject, but some herbalists speculate that a lower dose, such as that in a tea, might make the lining of the uterus more receptive to implantation. This may explain why some suggest that the plant was originally named for St. Anne, who was said to have conceived the Virgin Mary when she was well past childbearing age. She is invoked as the patron saint of infertile women.
“Anne’s Flower”
China Bayles
Pecan Springs Enterprise
McQuaid had gone to Lubbock and Caitie had stayed over at Karen’s, so I was alone in the house on Tuesday night, which made it a good time to start my column for the next week’s Enterprise garden page and catch up on some necessary housework. Bassets are wonderful dogs, but they shed constantly. Every corner in our house is home to a thriving colony of Winchester’s basset–fur bunnies. I’ve warned him that if he doesn’t hang on to his fur, he won’t have enough to keep him warm this winter, but he just keeps shedding.
For the Enterprise, I had decided to write a column about Queen Anne’s lace, which was blooming along our lane. It’s an interesting plant with a long history of medicinal uses, and even some culinary uses. Jelly, for instance. In an old book, I found a recipe that looked good and copied it out. Maybe over the weekend, I’d find time to make a batch.
But I only got about half finished with the column. Blackie called to say that he had returned from Lubbock and that the doctor had released Sheila. The baby seemed fine, and she and Rambo were both home. My mother called to ask if Caitie could spend a few days with her and Sam before school started, and Brian called to let me know that he and Casey were driving to Dallas to see Casey’s sister and take in a Rangers’ game. It was late by the time I got back to my work, and while I tried to stay with it, I kept nodding off. I finally gave it up and went to bed.
I was tired enough to fall asleep right away, even with Winchester taking over McQuaid’s half of the bed. But I didn’t sleep well. It was another night of dark dreams that sent me searching through endless shadowy places for that carton of photographs. Finally, I understood (with
