From This Day Forward

chapter Fourteen



The door to the study flew open and Caroline glanced up from the ledger with a gasp. Jason stood in the doorway, his face registering shock as he stared at her in wide-eyed confusion.

Her heart hammering in her chest, Caroline tried to still the trembling that had overtaken her at the sight of him. He looked the same but not the same. Lines of fatigue creased the flesh around his eyes. His hair had grown longer and hung nearly to his shoulders. A day's growth of stubble shadowed the lower half of his face. His wrinkled clothes appeared as worn as he did.

Anger and joy mingled in her chest. How she'd missed him, even if he was perpetually angry. They had parted so bitterly. The months of waiting, waiting for another chance to reach him, to make him love her, had seemed interminable.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked as he moved toward her like a jaguar stalking its next meal.

Swallowing hard, Caroline managed to find her voice. She would not be intimidated by him. "Senhor Aveiro received word that his father was ill."

He placed his hands on the desk and leaned across it toward her. She'd forgotten how tall he was. Even when she stood before him, his size dwarfed her, made her feel small and helpless. But seated as she was now, he towered over her like a tall Amazon canopy tree over a palm.

Fighting the urge to recoil from the cold anger in his eyes, she continued, "He—he had to leave immediately for Portugal. There was no one else...."

Jason slammed his fist on the desk and Caroline jumped. The force of the blow set everything on the desk to trembling.

"Why didn't you send word?" he asked between clenched teeth.

"I knew I could do the job," she replied, unable to keep her voice from shaking. "I kept the books for Derek."

Jason seemed not to hear her. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he withdrew a piece of paper that he flung onto the desk. "Are you responsible for this?"

Caroline's heart grew cold as she recognized the purchase requisition she'd drafted for the new water pump.

"I can explain," she muttered past the lump in her throat.

"I might have known," Jason said, his voice soft and full of loathing. "You forged Senhor Aveiro's signature."

"It—it was the easiest thing...."

Caroline fell silent as Jason's booming laughter filled the room. "God, you amaze me!"

"I knew that the companies in Manaus were accustomed to dealing with Senhor Aveiro," she hurried to explain, though she doubted he was listening to her. "Instead of writing and trying to explain the situation, it made more sense to handle it that way."

"You had no right! What the hell were you thinking?"

"Please do not swear at me, Jason!" She came to her feet, facing his irrational fury with calm poise—on the outside at least. On the inside, her heart quaked and her body trembled with apprehension.

"I should do more than that! I should wring your neck!"

Trying to remain calm in the face of his fury, Caroline said, "The water pump was broken and—"

"It breaks regularly."

"I know. That's my point."

After her talk with Ignacio, Caroline had expected some initial resistance from Jason, but not this unreasonable fury. It was only natural that he be frugal after living in poverty for the first part of his life, but how many times had he repaired a worn-out piece of machinery to keep from spending a little money? "The pump needed replacing months—perhaps years—ago."

"Who gave you the authority to make a decision like that? To spend my money? It breaks and Luis repairs it and it works again. You had no right!" He slammed his fist on the desk again for emphasis.

"Luis was with you!" She took great pride in reminding him and watching the color rise to his throat and the fury flame in his eyes. "Besides, have you ever stopped to think about how much time you waste repairing an old, worn-out pump? Time that you could use more productively?"

"That is none of your concern! I thought I'd made myself clear that I didn't want you sticking your nose into my business!"

"I was only trying to help," she said, forcing the tears from her eyes. "You know, with a new pump, you could harvest the coffee much more quickly. The faster you can wash it and dry it and get it off the patios, the sooner you can harvest more. In fact," she went on, lifting a book from the edge of the desk and riffling through it, "the man who wrote this book says that you can increase the drying time twofold by—"

She released a cry of surprise as the book went flying from her hands and Jason's booming voice shuddered through her.

"Stop it! Stop it!" he bellowed, his voice echoing in the suddenly small room. He took a deep breath and when he spoke again, his voice was more controlled. "I don't want to hear about your theories on coffee cultivation. I don't care that you decided the pump needed replacing. I want you to stop...." He paused, a growl of rage rumbling up from his chest and trembling through his body. "Stop interfering with my life!"

Movement in the hallway behind Jason caught her attention. Glad for the time to gather her composure, she called, "What is it, Vincente?"

Jason released a sigh and moved away, standing in a corner against the wall, his arms crossed in front of him. Vincente entered the room cautiously.

"Are you all right, Senhora?" he asked, darting a warning glare at Jason, despite his apparent unease.

From his corner, Jason snorted and returned the boy's stare with an expression that Vincente evidently understood, though its meaning was lost on Caroline. The boy stiffened, his face and throat reddening as he turned away from Jason and gazed at her sheepishly.

"We have unloaded the water pump," Vincente said, standing before her, twisting his hat in his hand. "What should we do with it?"

Caroline gazed at Jason, wondering what had passed between the two of them. Vincente was just a boy, a boy who felt obligated to protect her because she'd saved his life. Now she was the one who felt protective.

"Senhora," Vincente prompted, drawing Caroline back from her musings, "the pump. What shall we do with it?"

Caroline glared at Jason. "I suppose you should ask the patrao, now that he's back."

"It's your pump," Jason grumbled from the corner.

"Very well," Caroline said stiffly, lifting her chin in defiance. "Have it taken to the beneficio. The patrao will decide what to do with it after that."

With a nod and a last frightened glance at Jason, Vincente quickly exited the room.

"You frightened Vincente," Caroline accused as soon as they were alone.

Jason shrugged. "He presumes too much. You may have every man on the fazenda under your spell, but there are some things I will not abide."

"Vincente is just a boy," she reasoned.

"Boy or not, I will not tolerate anyone interfering between me and my wife."

A thrill raced up her spine at the possessiveness in his words. Perhaps he cared more than he was willing to admit, or was he only protecting his property as he would have done with anything else he owned?

"Why didn't you just have them take the pump off the boat before you left Manaus?" she asked, steering the conversation onto safer ground.

"How could I?" Jason reasoned, pushing away from the wall. "I'd have damaged Senhor Aveiro's credibility. The next time he ordered something from that company, I'd have to vouch for him. And word would get around to the other merchants I deal with. You put me in an untenable position."

"I'm sorry." But she wasn't sorry, not really. She was right. Why couldn't he admit it? And why did she get the impression that he was only using the water pump as a diversion from whatever was really bothering him? "This isn't about the pump at all, is it?"

"How long did it take you to master Aveiro's signature?" he asked, ignoring her question. "You're really good at forgery. Maybe you should become a criminal.''

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I still believe so. Why are you so angry? I'm the one who should be angry. You were gone far longer than necessary. When the pump quit, Luis wasn't here to repair it. It took two men to operate the hanci pump. We were already short workers because of the men you'd taken with you to Manaus, men who should have been back more than a month before they finally returned. There was coffee ready to be picked and no way to keep it from ruining once it was in the beneficio. If I'd waited for you to return, we would have lost half of this year's crop."

"We? There is no we. This is my fazenda, not ours. I don't need your help. I don't want your help. Your meddling has cost me a fortune."'

Again his cruel words hit their mark, causing tears to well behind her eyes. Again she fought them down and faced him squarely. "You cannot expect to be successful if you hoard every penny you make. Surely you realize that you have to reinvest some of your money in the plantation or it cannot operate. Why don't you tell me why you're really so angry? It's me, it's not the pump at all."

"I don't spend money unnecessarily. And I don't need you telling me how to run my business. I did quite well before you came and I can continue to do so without any interference from you."

He stalked away toward the open door. He'd just arrived, and already he was running away from her, and he hadn't even asked why she was still there or if she was pregnant.

"What are you going to do? You don't have a bookkeeper," she asked, even though it was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

"I'll send Ignacio to Manaus to find someone."

"And in the meantime?"

"That's not your concern. I'll deal with it."

"Jason!" she called desperately.

"What now?" he snapped, turning with a scowl of absolute annoyance.

Caroline opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. Two simple words—I'm pregnant—two words that would alter their lives forever, and she couldn't say them.

"Nothing," she said, dropping her gaze to the desk before her.

Just go, she thought, run away again. Leave me alone.

She glanced up and her breath caught, her chest tightening. He was still there, staring at her with such an expression of longing and fear that she knew in that instant that somehow he'd guessed the truth.

His eyes met hers and her legs went weak before he disguised his yearning with anger and turned to go, slamming the door resoundingly behind him.

Sinking into the soft leather chair, Caroline buried her head in her hands and gave in to the torrent of tears she'd held at bay for so long.

* * *

Caroline allowed the notes of the etude she'd been playing to float softly away until the parlor settled into silence. The sound of rain falling gently beyond the open window slowly insinuated itself into the stillness of the empty room.

She closed her eyes and her mind took her to the orchards where no doubt Jason worked alongside his men. Or perhaps they had taken refuge from the rain beneath the red-tiled roof of the beneficio. She couldn't help remembering the first time she'd seen it—Jason standing naked on one of the patios, water pummeling his body and running over his muscled torso in rivulets.

With a low growl, she came to her feet, walking angrily to the open door and peering out. He was back to his old games, avoiding her by staying away from the house. What was he waiting for? Was this a new tactic? If his strategy was to wear down her nerves, it was working brilliantly.

Five months! He'd been away for five months.

She'd made the trip from Manaus, and she knew how long it took. In good weather like they'd had lately, it took less than three weeks. Even allowing two weeks to transact business, he should have been back three months ago.

She almost wished she weren't carrying his child. Almost. In the beginning, she'd wished it fervently. She'd been violently ill every morning and queasy for the rest of the day. She'd actually lost weight. Her clothes had begun to hang on her. Only now was she beginning to fill them out again, and shortly they would be too small for her.

And she didn't even want to think about what waited for her at the end, the pain. Whenever she thought about her crude surroundings, her heart grew faint. There were no facilities, no help at all for a pregnant woman, not even a midwife. She tried to shore up her courage by reminding herself that women had children in the jungle every day.

How she needed Jason now. She needed the strength and comfort of his arms around her. She needed to feel that he wanted this child as much as she did, that it wasn't just her baby. She needed to talk to him about her anxiety and to hear him say that everything would be all right.

That was the root of the problem, she decided. She still cared for him. She still wanted him to love her, wanted it even more now. She didn't want to bring a child into a house where a constant state of open warfare existed. She wanted to be a family, the three of them.

But when she thought of the way Jason had been raised, the kind of family life he'd described in his letters, she wondered if he were capable of that kind of bond.

A terrible sickness settled in the pit of her stomach every time she allowed herself to think of the life he and his sister must have lived. Home was the one place in all the world where one should feel completely safe, especially a child. Jason had never experienced that kind of home. Perhaps he had no concept of it, but even so, she knew from his letters that his heart yearned for it.

Was he still angry at her over the stupid water pump? Despite his harsh words, she had continued to handle the plantation books and he'd left her alone to do so. Evidently she'd proven her competence, but he wasn't about to admit it. Instead he ignored her while Ignacio traveled to Manaus to hire a new bookkeeper.

But something more powerful, much deeper than anger kept him away from her. A huge chasm had opened between them, a wide emptiness that she wasn't sure could ever be spanned. Why? Why had he withdrawn from her completely? Surely it couldn't still be the letters. It was worse than with Wade. Never had she felt this way about Wade, or any other man, for that matter. She told herself it was because she could feel his child growing inside her day by day, but she suspected there was more to it than that.

She wanted desperately to recall the intimacy they'd shared so long ago at the slave village. She'd thought, hoped, that a closeness was beginning to form between them. Now that had been destroyed, perhaps forever.

Sensing someone behind her, Caroline turned to see Ines standing in the doorway, her expression as forlorn as Caroline's own heart.

"What am I to do, Ines?" she asked, turning to gaze into the impenetrable jungle once again.

"I am not knowing, Senhora. It is as I said, you should not have kept the letters."

"I know!" Anger and impatience pushed Caroline toward an emotional explosion which she tried with all her might to curb. It wasn't Ines's fault, none of it. "I can't undo it and he won't forgive me."

"Be patient."

Caroline laughed mirthlessly. "Patient? It's been two weeks. Two weeks and he hasn't spoken a word to me. In the mornings, he rises early and he's gone by the time I arrive at the table for breakfast. In the evenings, he disappears completely."

"When he went after you to bring you back—"

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked, turning to face Ines again. "When he found me at the slave village? He came after me then to put me on the mail boat."

"Oh, no, Senhora, he thinks you are on the mail boat and goes after you to take you off and bring you back."

"Are you sure?" Caroline asked, her heart soaring at the thought that he hadn't wanted her to leave, that there might be another reason for his allowing her to stay besides her pregnancy. Maybe he did care about her but was afraid to admit it, even to himself.

Even so, if he intended to ignore her and scorn her for the rest of her life, what had she really gained?

"I've been here nearly six months, and I don't even know where he sleeps," Caroline mused aloud, turning to face Ines, who came to stand close behind her. "But you do, don't you?"

Ines's eyes filled with terror. "Oh, no, Senhora, I couldn't! He would be so angry if I told you."

"All right, fine," Caroline said with an exaggerated shrug. "I'll just open every door in the house until I find his rooms. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."

"Rooms, Senhora?"

Sudden insight illuminated Caroline's mind. "He doesn't sleep in the house, does he? Where then?" But a better question was why. Why had he gone to all the trouble to build this mansion and not even sleep in it?

"I—I can't, Senhora. Please don't ask me to."

Caroline's shoulders sagged. "You're right. It wouldn't be fair of me to ask you to betray Jason that way. I'm sorry for trying to force you to defy him." Turning, she grasped Ines by the shoulders and hugged her, then said with all the emotion she could gather, "I suppose I should be packing."

Caroline walked past a dumbfounded Ines, taking her time in reaching the door, certain that Ines would stop her.

"Packing?"

Suppressing a smile at her own cleverness and at the ease with which Ines had fallen into her snare, Caroline turned to face Ines with a dejected expression. "I can't stay here. I can't live like this, with a husband who won't speak to me. If I can't even find him, how can I convince him to forgive me? The rain has stopped. I'm going to my room to start packing."

"No!" Ines called as Caroline reached the door. "Senhora, you cannot go. Master Jason, he cares for you. Once the baby is born, he will forget his anger. I know it."

"I'm not as certain as you are, Ines. I'd rather my baby be raised without a father than with one who resents him and his mother."

"Wait, Senhora!" Ines cried in panic. She took a deep breath, the struggle with her conscience and her loyalties apparent in her eyes. "When Master Jason is here first, he builds a hut in the jungle to live in until his house is finishing. There is where he sleeps now."

"The hut where I nursed the child with measles?"

"No, that is storehouse. Master Jason puts food and supply there for the runaways."

"What?" Caroline asked in stunned disbelief, remembering the blankets and barrels of supplies she'd noticed in the hut. "Jason provides supplies for the runaways?"

"He can do no more," Ines explained.

Tears formed in Caroline's eyes as she thought about Jason's generosity and sacrifice. The storehouse was on his property. If the slaves were discovered there, he could lose everything, including his freedom.

"Please, Senhora," Ines pleaded, "do not go there—to his place. He will be unpleased."

"I can't go there unless you tell me where it is."

"Master Jason, he comes to the house very lately, when you are in sleep. He will eat and then goes to his place in the jungle. If you waited for him...."

"Yes! Ines, why didn't you tell me this before?"

Ines hung her head. "He'll be even angry to me for this."

"He cares about you, Ines," Caroline assured her, gripping her by the shoulders again. "He will forgive you. Besides, he doesn't have to know you told me."