So while it had been his own stupid jealousy that caused their rift, Jed realized it rather suited Virginia to sustain it. It pained him more than he cared to admit now that what he’d wanted so badly hadn’t been the right choice for her. For a time he’d preferred to fight with her than to own up to it. That interlude gave Virginia time to make different plans.
It was a funny thing. At his age no one much mentioned his career except for a passing reference now and then. It wasn’t surprising; his great-nephews and nieces barely remembered a time when he worked. They remembered Virginia’s accomplishments even less. Virginia had also had a career. She’d been a math teacher at Chance Creek High, and she’d taught mental discipline to generations of Chance Creek students. Always demanding the best of them. Always holding them to a high standard. She’d given as much to the community as anyone else.
Virginia had been proud of that career, even if no one else noticed it.
Eventually, angry as he’d been that he’d lost her, Jed noticed that pride, noticed the cause of it and took a moment to really listen when Virginia was yelling at him.
Then he’d understood. Virginia couldn’t marry—not yet. She needed time.
He’d decided to give it to her.
And in return, he’d gotten as much of Virginia as she’d been able to give to him—which turned out to be a fair amount more than he might have expected. They’d muddled through the intervening decades. He and Virginia had had more of a relationship over the years than anyone else knew, even if it hadn’t been nearly as much of one as he’d always craved.
“Two minutes to another year,” Virginia said, allowing him to lead her in the dance, a concession that made him swell with pride of his own. She wouldn’t let just any man do that. Only him.
“Two minutes I’ll cherish as much as all the other minutes I get to spend with you.”
Virginia’s eyes closed. Was she savoring this moment as much as he was? Being married to her was like getting a huge ice cream sundae at the end of a steak dinner on some special occasion—except the celebration happened day after day after day.
“We’ve done good with this family,” Virginia said. “We’ve done good for everyone.”
“Sure have. We helped make this town a special place.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, nodding. “That’s true.”
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
She nodded again. “That we have, and I like it.”
That was as much a declaration of love as he was likely to get, Jed knew.
But it was enough.
Virginia allowed Jed to lead her around the dance floor. If she was honest, it was nice not to have to make every decision about every last thing these days. Moving into the Flying W with Jed had been a treat. As had taking up their relationship where they’d left off—although it pleased her no end that not a single person in this room—aside from Jed—knew that their relationship had been far more robust—and interesting—over the years than one might think.
She wondered what Jed really thought about their journey to the altar. Was he as torn as she was, sometimes wishing she’d allowed him to marry her far sooner so they could have known domestic bliss all these years together, and other times knowing that the sweetness, and thrill, of their encounters over the years was all the sweeter—and more exciting—because of their feud?
They’d had some good times in between all the fighting.
She’d never forget the first time she’d cornered Jed at the Harvest Festival when she was twenty-one. They’d argued all day each time they bumped into each other.
Then they’d met at the refreshment booth. Jed had tried to buy her a cup of punch. She’d thrown it in his face and stormed away. He’d followed her outside, just like she’d hoped—
And she’d kissed him. A long, hot kiss that burned with all the pent-up anger and desire she’d held inside her since the night he’d stood her up at the Homecoming Dance.
When they’d pulled apart, Jed had peered into her eyes for a long moment, then grabbed her hand, tugged her around the far side of the community center and kissed her again in a totally different way.
She’d lost her virginity that night in a field out back under a sky of stars that glittered like the ones out tonight. Jed had proposed to her afterward.
She’d said no—in no uncertain tones, which had led to another row—
And another bout of lovemaking.
“Can I at least take you home?” Jed had asked when they were sated, breathing hard, staring together up at a moon so huge it seemed to fill the sky.
“No,” she’d said. “I’m my own woman, Jed Turner. Don’t you forget it.”
“I won’t wait forever,” he’d said.
We’ll see about that, she’d told herself.
She supposed none of the other couples dancing with them would understand their strange lives. The way she and Jed had turned a feud into something that could sustain them through the years. He had his life. She had hers. Sometimes the want they buried through their busy days sparked up into a surprisingly strong storm—and swept them into a night—or several nights—or a week of passion, but then they sailed their ships back to their respective ports and went on, as if they’d never connected at all.
So they’d still be faring, she thought, if she hadn’t woken up one morning earlier this year at the old age home where she and Jed had both lived for some time with her right hand so stiff and sore that when she reached for her trusty umbrella, she wasn’t able to grasp the handle. Sitting straight up in bed, it was as if her eyes opened for the first time
