“Don’t you dare try to lie to me or to yourself. The only thing standing between us is your ridiculous notion that we shouldn’t be together because of our ages. You won’t let yourself get to know me. You’re afraid to have a conversation with me for fear you might find out that I have a head—a man’s head—on my shoulders. I’m no more a boy than you are an adult. I was born an old man, and you, Jackie, were born a child, and you’ll always be a child. You will never grow up, or at least you’ll never grow old. Do you know one of the reasons I love you so much?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Because you keep me young. No matter how old you get, you will always have the freshness of a child. You have no idea how other people’s minds work. We who are ordinary think about mortgages and our aching backs, but you don’t. You never have and you never will. You think in terms of doing whatever you want at any time you want. If you want to fly an airplane, you do so. Never mind that other people tell you not to. I was eaten with jealousy of Charley. He knew exactly what you were and he had sense enough to reach out and grab you. You were grateful to him, but he knew that he should have been on his knees kissing the ground in thanks that he’d had the privilege of meeting you. He knew that you’d take care of him and make him laugh while you were doing it. He knew your value very well.”
William gave a
little snort. “Before you left, Charley ruffled my hair and said, ‘Better luck next time, kid.’ You were a prize for him then, and you’re a prize now.”
William’s handsome face distorted into the barest of sneers, and the way he looked her up and down made her feel ashamed of herself. “At least you were a prize. I never thought it would happen, but you got old, Jackie. You became an old woman.”
He stood in front of her for a moment as though waiting for something. Maybe he expected her to throw her arms around him and tell him that she hadn’t grown old, and her proof was that she was willing to live with a man ten years younger than she was. But she couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t do it. No matter what he said, when she looked at him, she saw little Billy Montgomery, and until she got that image out of her head she’d never be able to think of him as anything except a child.
After a long moment of silence, at last he said, “All right, Jackie, you win. Or do we both lose?” He gave a sigh that came from deep within him. “I’ll pack and be out of here immediately.”
She didn’t move as he walked away. Part of her was sad, but a big part of her was relieved. Now she’d have no more indecision, no more agony. No more watching his strong young body move about the house; no more lying awake to listen for the sound of him.
As she turned away from the house, she wanted to walk, walk for hours and miles. She didn’t want to see him leave; she wanted to put off entering the empty house for as long as possible.
She wasn’t crying, so she should have been able to see where she was going, but for some reason she wasn’t looking. Maybe her mind was too preoccupied, but whatever the reason, she didn’t realize that there was no ground in front of her, just a steep drop down into a rocky arroyo filled with rusting debris from generations of litterers. Usually agile, she tried to catch herself, but her foot landed on loose rock and she went tumbling.
She didn’t fall very far, but she landed in the middle of a rusty heap of metal that had once been a Ford. Dazed for a moment, she shook her head, mentally feeling if she’d broken any bones. She hadn’t. Everything was all right, and she couldn’t help smiling in relief. Still smiling, she wiped her hand across her forehead and felt the hot, thick, dampness that could only be blood. Pulling her hand away, she saw that it was covered with blood and there was more flowing out of what looked to be a deep cut in the palm of her right hand. All around her were sharp edges of rust-covered metal, and she knew that she’d cut herself on one of them. Thoughts of lockjaw immediately went through her head.
“Jackie!”
She wasn’t surprised to hear William’s voice, shouting for her with some urgency. As a child he’d been able to sense when she needed help. And no matter where she was, he could always find her.
“Here,” she shouted up toward the ridge of the arroyo, but her voice didn’t come out as a shout. It sounded weak and helpless, as though she were a shadow instead of a real person. But William obviously heard her, for he appeared at the top of the arroyo, high above her head, stopping for a moment, his back to the setting sun, as he looked down at her.
She had no idea how bad she looked until she saw William’s face. He was as pale as she felt. Glancing down, she saw blood all over her—on her shirtfront, on her trousers, and no doubt on her face—and her hand didn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop bleeding. An unending supply of fresh red blood seemed to be slowly making its way out of her palm.
Jackie closed her eyes for just a moment, but it was long enough for William to make his way down the arroyo. As though he were far away, she heard him tearing down the hillside, rocks flying. Dreamily she smiled and wondered if the rocks were moving out of William’s way.
“Jackie,” he said softly, “wake up. Do you hear me? Wake up.”
“I’m not asleep,” she answered, but she felt odd, as though she were in her body yet not in it. “Haven’t we done this before?” she said, smiling. “Are you going to rescue me again?”
“Yeah, kid. Hang on and I’ll get you out of here.”
She smiled at his calling her kid. Charley used to call her kid. In fact most all men she came to know very well called her that at one point or another. She was vaguely aware of William moving about her. When she heard the sound of ripping cloth, she opened her eyes as wide as they would go, which didn’t seem to be very far. William was bare-chested, his broad chest covered with nothing but clean, smooth muscle, no hair on his chest to speak of, just that lovely warm-looking skin.
“Listen to me, Jackie,” he said. “You’ve lost quite a bit of blood and you seem to be going into shock. I want you to concentrate and do what I tell you. You understand?”
She nodded, smiling a bit, but she came alert when he quickly tied a tourniquet about her wrist, using strips of his torn shirt. There hadn’t been any pain before, but that thing hurt.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered, trying to be brave.
“Good. The pain will keep you awake. Now I’m going to get you up and out of here so a doctor can stitch you up.”
“It doesn’t need stitches. Really. It’s hardly a scratch. Just a little cut. A bit of tape will fix it.”
“Coward,” he said, as he hoisted her over his bare shoulder and began the climb up the hill.
Jackie thought that her entire body was the same width as one of his shoulders. She was coming out of her initial shock, and her hand was beginning to hurt. “If your father fires you, you can get a job rescuing damsels in distress. Of course, it will be hard on your wardrobe. William, aren’t I awfully heavy?” She practically purred the last remark, hoping he’d say that she weighed nothing at all.
“Yes, you are. You look rather thin, so one would think you’d be light, but you’re not. You’re quite substantial.”