Enjoy reading --Heart Of Stone-Complete-Page 14 - Page 4

Sara laid the shirt over the side of the washing machine. In doing so, she became conscious of her appearance. Her gaze slid down the front of her sloppy sweat shirt and faded jeans.

"You should have called before coming over." Raising a hand to the hair tied back, she stepped over the pile of the clothes blocking her path to the doorway and Asher.

"If I had. I wouldn't have got the chance to see this domestic scene.; Asher reached out to take the hand she was balancing with and pulled her into his arms, and locking his hands behind her back while he studied her upturned face. "And you know you look like a cute little girl in that outfit."

It wasn't exactly a compliment she wanted to hear as she turned her head away and pushed her way past him into the kitchen. The floor seemed to roll under her feet, but she knew it was only her whole body was quaking.

"I don't want to look like little girl," she declared, and lifted both her hands to untie the knotted yarn around her hair. But she had tied it tight and the knot defied the attempts of her trembling fingers to loosen it.

When she felt Asher's push her out of the way, she tried to move away, but he clamped a hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. "Hold still.' He ordered, and Sara stood quietly while he worked the yarn free of the knot. When it was untied, he turned her around and combed her hair into place with his fingers."Now you just look fine. Are you happy?" he asked with a lazy glint in his eyes.

But he didn't wait for her to answer, "Did you really think you wouldn't see me again before I left?" He sounded almost angry.

"I'm not sure if I believed it or not." Sara admitted with her eyes closed for a moment.

"Where are your parents? Who else are you expecting besides egg lady?" he asked.

"My parents are dead," she whispered, and wondered why he didn't know that."There is only Mrs. Hammermill. She usually comes before nine."

She felt as well as heard the deep shuddering breath Asher took before he lifted his head to smile tightly at her, "In that case, why do not you fix me some breakfast? I didn't bother to eat before I came over. I thought you might do your shopping in the morning and I didn't want to miss you."

Not knowing how much she dared into that statement. Sara decided not to comment on it. "Do you want bacon and eggs?" she asked instead.

"What I want can't have at the moment." He stepped away. "Bacon and egg will do."

"How do you like your eggs?" she walked to the refrigerator, glad to have something to do. She took out the package of bacon and the last two eggs from the shelf.

"Sunny -side up and crisp bacon."

She Spied the pitcher of orange juice on the refrigerator shelf. "Juice?'

"No, thanks." Asher came to stand beside her while she laid the bacon strips in the skillet.

When it began to sizzle, she walked to the cupboard on the other side of him and took down a place sitting. She glanced uncertainly at the kitchen table, and then at him. "Would you like to eat in the dining room?" she suggested.

"No," He said with decisive shake of his head. "I have no intention of letting you out of my sight."

His look, as well as his answer, was disturbing, but it also gave her such much- needed confidence. She was smiling as she arranged the plate and cutlery on the gingham- clothed kitchen table. She walked back to the stove to turn the bacon.

"When was the last time you had breakfast in somebody's kitchen?" she asked curiously eyeing him with sidelong glance.

"Probably not since I was a child." He admitted what Sara had suspected. "Are you a good cook?"

"Not as good as Perry, but he's had a lot more practice than I have." The bacon was beginning to brown nicely, so Sara kept turning it.

Asher stood behind her ,while his hands touching her hair."Why did he have more practice?' He didn't really sound interested in the subject.

"Our mother died when I was only four. Since our father had to work at two jobs to support us, Perry had to do the cooking and look after me."

It was difficult to concentrate on what she was doing when he was standing so close to her. She managed to rescue the bacon before it was burned and set it aside to drain on the paper towel.

"What did your father do?"

"He was ski instructor but mostly he earned money as a bartender and cutting firewood----until his accident." She cracked the eggs and slipped them in to the hot bacon fat.

"The accident that forced your brother to give up his law career," Asher guessed.

"Yes, he was crippled in a skiing accident," she looked over her shoulder, a curious frown knitting her forehead. "Perry has worked for you over five years, surely you knew that."

"No, I don't bother to inquire about personal lives of my employees unless it affects their work. There's never been any reason to fault your brother's work. "There was an indifferent and dismissing shrug of his shoulders.

"But surely you want to know something about their background, "Sara insisted.

"Only their qualifications for their particular position. As long as I get the results I want. I couldn't care less who or what they are as individuals. "There was a curve to his mouth, but it wasn't a smile. "You think that's a very callous attitude, don't you?"

Sara concentrated her gaze on the eggs in the skillet, the bright yellow yolks staring at her."Yes, I do.'

White Boar Inn represents half of one percent of the gross business, Canfield Enterprises earns annually. May be that will give you an idea of how many Perry Halls I have working for me." He said. "I couldn't possibly become involved or have knowledge of their personal lives without losing perspective of my overall responsibility. By rights, I should sell the inn."

"Why don't you?" She could see the logic in his argument, but mentally recoiled from this evidence of his lack of feeling. The eggs were done, so she moved away to fetch his plate from the table and scoop them onto it with spatula.

"For personal reasons ," Asher answered . Sara didn't think he intended to explain what they were, but she was wrong. "My parents spent their honeymoon at the White Boar when they eloped. He bought it for her on their sixth anniversary. He was the one who decreed that the honeymoon suite would be reserved only for Canfields."

"No wonder you are reluctant to sell it." Her smile was soft and radiant when she gazed at him, touched by this unexpected display of sentiment.

"Six month after he bought it, they went through a messy divorce that lasted two years. My mother has since remarried several times. My father wisely contented himself with a stream of mistresses. " Asher watched her smile fade almost with satisfaction.

"Is----is he living?" averting her gaze, Sara walked past him, carrying the plate of eggs and bacon to the table.

"No, He is retired to the south of France. I believe his current girl friend is a twenty years old model." Of course, he refers to her as his protge."

"Coffee? When she set his plate down, she searched for an excuse to find something else to do.

"Black with no sugar."

Sara moved away from the table as he sat down to eat. "You must not have had a happy childhood?"

"That depends on your definition of happy. My grandfather raised me even before my parents were divorced. They were always vacationing in some exotic resort far-off corner of the world. The divorce had little effect on me. Most of the time I was away at school or else with my grandfather. From the day I was born I was groomed to take over the company, and when my grandfather died a few years ago, That's exactly what I did."

Sara poured two cups and carried them to table."And the last time you ate in somebody's kitchen, that was your grandfather?"

"Hardly." Asher laughed shortly, "He had all his meals at his desk unless it was a business dinner. No, I spent a week at the home of one of my classmate."

"Why, don't you sell the inn?" Sara watched him, half afraid to hear his answer."It's obvious that you feel no sentimental attachment to it."

Asher was slow to answer, but it wasn't due to any hesitancy. ":It reminds me that intimate relationship don't last forever no matter how strong the attachment appears on the surface."

"You make the trip here on an average of four times a year. Yet I've never heard of you bringing the same woman twice. Is that why?" But that question simply prompted another. "Why did you come this morning when Helen is back in the suite?"

"Because I didn't want to be with her. I wanted to be with you." His sharpness dissolved into a chuckle. "You are having a hard time trying to understand me, aren't you? The Helens of this world go in and out of my life all the time. She understands the ground rules going in- no emotional claims on me or my time. In return, I treat her with respect and curtsey, I'm not attempting to brag or shock you : I'm only trying to explain the circumstances that dictates my life-style."

Sara was trying but it all sounded very cold-blooded."I'm sure you can rationalize any behavior, "She replied stiffly.

Leaning forward in his chair , Asher reached for her hand and gripped it firmly in his. The intensity of his gaze was piercing. "What I'm not making myself clear to you , Sara, is how difficult it is for me to have the kind of relationship you regard normal"with any woman. I don't have time to carry courtship." A muscle was working convulsively along his jaw. "Tomorrow I'm driving to New York. When I arrive , there might be a phone call that will take me to the West Coast. I could be there for a month, Maybe two. Or I might be there a month a say and leave for Zurich"I have hotel suites in dozen cities. I'm with you today, but it might be six months before I can see you again . How can I build a relationship on that ? How can I ask a woman to wait for me without being able to tell her when I'll see her again?"

"It's quite hopeless, isn't it?" her voice was choked, futility swamping her.

He released her hand with controlled irritation pausing a second before he resumed eating the rest of his breakfast. "Sometimes I forget that it is, but the inn reminds me-----every moment when I see the name on the report."

"That's why you said you didn't want an heir"that it was the time Canfield name died," she said suddenly understanding.

"No one should have this responsibility unless he wants it." Asher stated.

"You---You could sell?" Sara suggested hesitantly.

"This is what I'm trained for---what I'm good at.' His mouth slanted in a half smile."I doubt if I can make you understand that. I wouldn't change my life and what I do, even if I had a choice." He wiped at his mouth with a napkin."That was a very good breakfast. Is there more coffee?"

"Yes, of course." A little numb, Sara stood up to take his cup. After all he had explained, she was still trying to figure out where she might fit in his life.

Asher must have read the bewilderment in her eyes, because he reached out to stop her when she started to pass his chair, his hand resting lightly on her forearm."When I find something I want, I reach out and grab it, Sara, because it might not be there the next time I come back. I live hard and fast---and love the same way. If I forget to say you are beautiful or that your eyes are the color of the morning sky, it isn't because I don't think of it. I just don't waste precious time.

"Yes, I---" Her reply was interrupted by a knock at the front door. It startled her until she realized who it was. "It's Mrs. Hammermill."

"The egg lady." Asher nodded, and dropped his hands to leave Sara free to answer the door.

Setting his cup down, she walked towards the living room. "Yes! Come in, Mrs. Hammermill !' She called, and the front door opened to admit a short ,stout woman in a dark pillbox hat. Two dozen eggs were balanced under one short arm.

"I'm sorry I'm late, but the mister's been sick with flu. I've been doing his chores as well as mine."

"I'm sorry I'm late, but the mister's been sick with flu. I've been doing his chores as well as mine."

"I hope he is feeling better soon," Sara murmured and led way into the kitchen. The woman stopped short at the sight of a strange man and eyed him suspiciously. Sara quickly introduced them.

Mrs.Hammermill was instantly all smiles, "May be you can talk to Perry about letting me supply the eggs for the restaurant. I would have to buy some more layers, but---"

"I'll talk to him about it." Asher assured her.

Taking the eggs money out of the jaron the counter, Sara paid the woman and tactfully hurried her on her way. She almost regretted identifying Asher, but the gossip about a strange man would have been worse

continued...

After she had shown the woman out, Sara returned to kitchen. I'm sorry Mrs. Hammermill tried to persuade you to let her have the egg account at the restaurant inn. "she apologized to Asher with wry smile. "What she really wants Perry to do is finance it. She would have to buy more laying hens, which means she'd need to build a new coop, as well as the initial cost of more grain. She's marvelous, dependable woman, but I don't think you want to go into partnership on the egg business." At the table she stopped to stack the dishes and add them to those in the sink waiting to be washed.

"you're right. I'm not interested in the chicken business"or the dishes. In fact ---" Asher took hold of her hands and pulled her near him ." I am only interested keeping you near me."

Sara composed herself and pulled away from him, "The first time I saw you, I knew I had to keep both feet on the ground or you'd knock me right off them. I should have meant literally, "Sara laughed shakily, trying to make joke out of it even though she knew it was absolute truth.

At the scrap of the chair leg indicating he had risen, she grabbed hold of the edge of the counter, needing to hang on something, "It's all happening too fast for me, "she tried to explain without sounding as desperate as she felt. "You don't understand Asher, I can't be casual about all this."

She realized he was standing behind her, his tone steady with patience and confidence. Her knuckles were white from gripping the counter edge in an effort to keep from turning around. If she did, she knew she would be lost. To counter his sureness, she became sharp and defensive, "I'm sure I don't know as much as you do , Mr. canfield."

"Mr. Canfield?" His voice was dangerously low. He gripped her shoulders and forced her to turn around. She was rigid in his hold, but she didn't resist him. Under the narrow regard of his dark eyes, her head was thrown warily back. "Hey, what is this?" Asher demanded.

"Like you I don't treat it that lightly, "she defended her hesitation and uncertainty.

Hr studies every particle of her expression for such a long time that she felt uncomfortable. "You don't have any boy friend, Sara?" He seemed to doubt the accuracy of his conclusion.

Her gaze fell to the neckline of his sweater. "Should I apologize for my experience?" The challenge was a little angry, a little hurt and a little defiant.

"How old are you?' he asked her.

"Twenty two," she said stiffly.

"My God, where have you been all your life? In a convent?" Asher was dryly incredulous and mocking."Twenty two and no boy friend?'

His remark ignited her temper. "It's too bad if you think I'm an oddity. My father skiing accident left him almost completely paralyzed. I'd to feed him, bathe him, dress him, read to him, do everything for him, for five years. Daddy never complained for himself, but used to cry because I didn't go out and have fun. Perry took care of him whenever he was at home, but he never knew when an emergency would come up and he'd have to go to the inn. I dated now and then." She was angry and didn't try to conceal it. "But who wants to get serious about someone with a sick father? We couldn't afford to hire anyone to take care of him full time. I'm not complaining about those five years. I don't regret a single one of them, because they brought me closer to my father than I's ever been. So you can make fun of me if you can----"

He covered her mouth with two fingers to check the indignant tirade. His chiseled male features were etched in sober lines, "I'm not making fun of you. "He said gently and her anger vanished as if it never been. "It's simply rare to meet someone with your passionate nature who hasn't been around. It doesn't change anything." His gaze lifted to catch her look and hold it. The dark glitter of his eyes dazzled her. "I'm more determined to have you as mine." He took a deep breath and released her entirely. "We would better go for a drive somewhere. At least my hands will be on the steering wheel, I'll be able to keep them off you . Go and change, I'll wait for you down here."

Sara looked at him, reluctant to agree his suggestion, but his dark eyes warned her not to protest unless she was willing to accept the alternative That was something that still confused her.

"I'll only be a few minutes," She promised.

--------------------------------------------------

The roads were crowded with the cars of the tourists, eager to see the spectacle of the autumn foliage and catch a glimpse of the lore that personified Yankee New England"wooden covered bridges, white church steeples, antique shops and village squares.

Sara relaxed in the contours of velour-covered seats, enveloped in the luxury of the blue Mercedes. The radio was turned low, its four speakers surrounding her with serene sound of the music. A riot color exploded outside the window: reds and yellows against the backdrop of dark pine forests climbing the slopes of the White Mountain, and a crisp blue sky.

Traffic thinned in the lane ahead of them as Asher made the turn that would take them on the road south through Franconia Notch. An out cropping of granite loomed into view, and a contented smile curved Sara's mouth when she saw it .

"There's my friend," she murmured, unconsciously breaking the companionable silence.

"Which one?" Asher gaze narrowed on the rear view mirror, trying to identify which of the cars they had passed that had contained her friend.

"Not that kind of friend." Her smile broadened as she pointed."Him. The old man of the mountains," she gazed at the jagged profile Mother Nature had carved into the granite millennia ago," I used to make up stories about him when I was a child- the way some kids do about the man on the moon, I suppose."

"If he is my competition. I've got it made." Asher sent her a sidelong glance that was warm and desiring, beneath its teasing glitter.

"At least your heart is not made of stone like his," They had passed the granite profile, immortalized so long ago by Nathaniel Hawthorne in his classic" The Great Stone Face." Sara settled back into her seat again, letting her gaze roam to Asher's profile, much more viriley alive and vigorous. Jut to look at him made her feel warm. "When I was little. I was certain there was a way that I could make him come to life, some magic I could perform the way the fairy godmother did with their enchanted wands. And he would tell me all secrets of the world." She laughed softly at her whimsy.

"Now?" Asher sounded curious , speculative.

Sara shrugged. "I guess I grew up."

"No. All you have to do touch me and I come to life." His low delivery was heavy with teasing but serious gleam in his eyes."I can prove it whenever you want."

Sara glanced away . Her gaze made a restless sweep outside the window at the passing scenery, seeking a escape without wanting to find out. The click of the turning signals startled her, pulling her gaze to Asher.

"I think we both could use some fresh air," he offered by way of explanation.

Before they reached the end of mountain pass, he turned off and parked at the visitors' lot to the flume. When he switched off the motor, Sara opened the passenger door not waiting for him to walk around the car to do it for her. The invigorating briskness of the autumn air immediately cleared her head, freeing her senses to notice other things around her.

As she waited for Asher to join her , She zipped the front of her Eisenhower jacket- a combination of dyed white and grey rabbit fur and tan leather. The legs of her deep burgundy corduroys were tucked into her high boots. The short jacket added to her clean- limbed look. The air was cool enough to turn her breath into frosty vapor.

When Asher reached automatically for her bare hand , she automatically placed it in his, the warmth and firmness of his grip filling her with pleasant feeling of belonging. He crooked her a faint smile before setting off to join the band of tourists lining up to get on the bus that would take them to the flume.

The endless chatter of the tourists negated the need for them to talk. Sara didn't mind, It left her free to savor the moment being near to Asher .

His arm was around her, her shoulder resting against the unbuttoned front of his parka: As the bus slowed in approach of their destination, Asher murmured in her ear, "If you turn out to be a damn tease, I'm going to wring your lovely neck"after I take a bite of it."

Her head pivoted sharply in alarm. She looked up, relieved to see he was smiling. An older woman behind them twittered in a whisper to her companion. "Isn't it wonderful---a pair of lovers?" Which deepened the corners of Asher's mouth without curving them. Sara glanced to the front, feeling a little self-conscious.

When the bus stopped to let them out, neither of them rushed to join the mass exodus. They let the other tourist hurry on ahead of them while they followed more slowly. Sara wasn't as comfortable with the silence between them as she had been. When Asher removed his hand from the back to button the middle button of his coat, she paused with him. Ahead was the railed boardwalk winding through the cool shadow of the gorge.

"It's really better to come here in the summer when it's hot," she said to fill the silence. "Then you can appreciate the coolness and the shade."

"If you just want to get warm, let me know." When her gaze fell under the lazily regard of his, he reached out to lace his fingers through her chestnut hair, pulling her towards him and gently asked her, "You don't know how to handle all this bantering, do you?"

"I've never been with anyone---------who alludes to it as constantly as you do, "she admitted, trying not to be embarrassed.

"I'm just saying what's on my mind," Asher stated, gazing deep into her blue eyes, "On my mind, every time when I'm with you . Does that disturb you?"

"Yes."

They entered the deep ravine in silence, walking side by side until the boardwalk narrowed and Sara moved ahead. On both sides of them , a sheer rock wall towered upward to seventy feet in the air. Moss grew thickly on the moist rock, hugging the striated crevices. In the spring and summer, delicate and rare mountain flowers bloomed in the shadowy darkness of the gorge.

A laughing stream tumbled over the rock bed running alongside and below the boardwalk. The cool temperature and the high humidity combined to pierce the bones with a chilling dampness. Sara shoved her hands deep into the pockets to protect them from numbing cold.

Sara paused near the end of the flume where the boardwalk made a right angle turn with gorge. Leaning against the railing, she gazed down at the stream. "It's peaceful here, isn't it? She glanced at Asher, standing beside her, leaning a hand on the railing, but it was she who had his undivided attention.

"Have dinner with me tonight, Sara." He said. "Just the two of us. In my suite"with wine, candlelight and soft music. I'll hire a car and send Helen wherever the hell she wants to go"Boston, New York, Rome. We'll have the whole night and top it off with breakfast tomorrow morning."

Sara made a move away from him, but Asher blocked the attempt, shifting his position to trap her to the rail, a hand on either side of her. "I met you less than twenty -four hours ago." She reasoned helplessly.

"Pretend that when we met yesterday afternoon, it was two weeks ago. Dinner was a week ago and this morning was yesterday. Time is something I don't have in quantity. We have to make the most of what's available, not waste it on all these needless preliminaries." Asher murmured. "Stay with me. We'll have all night to get to know each other."

"You don't understand Asher," her voice was soft and tight . His look became stony as he straightened from the railing. "All right," he said grimly. "Forget about tonight." His balled fists sought the pockets of his jacket, facing her nearly a foot between them , "I have to leave shortly after noon tomorrow. What are you doing in the morning?"

The question caught Sara off guard, "I---I usually go to church."

The muscle along his jaw line tautened, flexing in suppressed anger. There was bleakness in his eyes that chilled her wintry blast. "I suppose you're going to ask me to come with you. My God, Sara, I'd be sitting there and thinking about you. "he expelled the words in a rush of hot anger," Please spare me the hierocracy of that!"

Her mouth opened but she could not find anything to say. His hand snaked out to grab her elbow and propel her along the boardwalk. The serenely quiet and peaceful ravine suddenly became rife with raw tension.

Not a word was exchanged until they had returned to the car and Asher started the car. "Will I see you before you leave?" Sara risked a glance at his forbidding profile as she asked the subdued question.

"Not tonight, I haven't got that kind of control."

He didn't even look at her as he reversed out of the parking space. Before he turned onto the road, he let the car idle and glanced at her. There was a softening in the hardness of his expression"a surfacing patience that was reluctant.

"We'll get together in the morning...before church. In the meantime ----"he pushed back the sleeves to see his watch" ----it is time I was back at the inn. Perry and I've an appointment to meet the architect at one."

At the farmhouse, Asher didn't bother to get out of the car. When he looked at her, not moving, Sara leaned across the seat to bade him bye. His hands didn't touch her and his response to the contact of her lips was severely checked, barely warm.

Vaguely dejected, Sara walked to the house and paused at the door to watch Asher drive away. She didn't blame him for his attitude, but she knew that hers was not without justification, too.