Once in Every Life

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Be numb. Be numb. Be numb. The words circled in Jack's brain, gathering force with each repetition.

He knew it was the only way he could survive this new game of hers, knew it as certainly as he knew his name.

He paced back and forth in the darkness behind the barn. Moonlight crept through the bank of gray clouds and cast the pasture in uncertain, blue-tinged light. The world tonight was quiet, so quiet he could hear the whisper of the wind through the tall grass. It sounded like a woman breathing.

Like her breathing. He walked to the edge of the barn and glanced at the house.

She was down there. Just a few steps away. Maybe she was even waiting for him....

Groaning, he closed his eyes and leaned tiredly against the rough wooden wall. But the self-imposed blindness didn't help. He could still see her face, and though it was a face he'd seen since childhood, it looked different now. And it was that difference that was killing him. Slowly. Inch by agonizing inch.

In his mind he saw her smiling. The vision held the dreamlike quality of a favorite memory. As if in slow motion, she turned, hair flying around her like strands of sunlight, and glanced down at Katie. Pride and love shone in her brown eyes, gave her a radiance she'd never had before. A softness that made him ache with longing. It hadn't been so long ago?not so long, really?that she'd looked at him that way.

She couldn't be changing, not really. No matter what he saw?or thought he saw?in her eyes, she couldn't really be changing. It was just another game designed to hurt him.

No matter what she said or did, he had to remember that

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it was just another game. The changes, the smiles, had to be in his sick, twisted-up mind.

Be numb. Be numb. Be numb.

The words came back to him, and he focused his thoughts on them with single-minded determination. He could do it; he could resist the need washing through his body.

He'd been resisting it for years.

Jack stared at the closed door, knowing he shouldn't go in. He wasn't strong enough to fight her again. He should just turn around right now and run to the safety of the barn. Except that he was tired of running, so tired. For the last two hours he'd paced the darkness, fighting a need h

e'd thought long forgotten. Now he was so damn tired he could hardly stand.

Slowly, cautiously, he opened the door.

Amarylis was waiting for him by the stove. "Hi, Jack."

He had to remind himself again that she wasn't relieved to see him, because goddamn, she looked relieved.

She looked breathtakingly beautiful, too. Tousled, unbound hair framed her pale, upturned face in a halo of unbelievable light. Her cheeks were flushed and pink from standing over a hot stove. He could smell the sweet aroma of cinnamon and peaches that clung to her like expensive perfume.

She looked and smelled like ... home. Against all reason, he found himself thinking about cozy nights curled around a fire and early mornings spent softly talking.

"I knew if I waited long enough, you'd come back."

Jack couldn't think of a single word. He stood there, dumb as a post, staring into her luminous brown eyes and praying as hard as he could. God, don't let her touch me now. Not now .. .

She came toward him. Her skirt hem breezed across his

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ankle like a caress. She started to reach for him. He shrank backward. She paused. Slowly, frowning, she eased her hand away from his arm. "I've drawn you a bath. Savannah and Katie are sleeping. We're alone."

Alone. The word was like a dagger in his heart. He shook his head. "No."

Her gaze slid casually from his face. He felt suddenly self-conscious, realizing for the first time how he must look. Torn, ragged red long Johns streaked with dirt; hair that hung in planklike sheets of muddy black; filthy, earth-caked feet.

She stared at his dirty face and tried not to smile. "You don't want to bathe?"