Knowing that the next day Amanda would go back to work and their time together would be limited, they tried to cram as much into Christmas Day as they could. They carried gifts to Amanda’s neighbors, visited the Donovans long enough for Christmas hugs and Christmas turkey, then loaded Napoleon into the horse van and set off for the river.
They arrived in time to see the sunset over the water.
“What a beautiful way to end a day,” Tanner said.
“What a beautiful way to end anything.”
“Amanda . . .”
“You’ll be leaving in a week, Tanner. We might as well face that.”
“Not without you. I want you in Dallas with me. As my wife.”
“I’m tempted, Tanner. I’m so tempted.”
“Then what’s holding you back?”
The Christmas card slipped into her mind, a stark reminder that the past would always be with them.
“The past, Tanner. You say you’ve forgotten it . . . .”
“I have.”
“But I’m afraid we’ve simply shut the door on it. It’s there, waiting to jump out at us. I failed at one marriage—partially, I think, because I could never forget you. I won’t go into another marriage dragging the past with me.”
“Hellfire and damnation, Amanda.” Tanner jumped up and began to pace alongside the river. “If I could see Claude right now, I’d thrash him. Damnit all, Mandy. I love you!”
“And I love you—just as I did more than eleven years ago.”
She saw the barely controlled fury in his face, watched him reign it in. Suddenly he lifted her into the saddle.
“Let’s ride.”
And they did. They raced along the river as if they were trying to outrun the demons that pursued them. Napoleon’s hooves pounded the ground as the knowledge of their inevitable separation pounded into their hearts.
When the ride was over, they returned Napoleon to the barn and sought to push away reality with their lovemaking. Desperate to forget, their joining became almost a battle in the hay.
Napoleon whinnied and pawed the stable floor. He didn’t know that the disturbance in the barn was the futile attempt of two people to wipe out the past.
o0o
For the next two days Amanda was jumpy, her nerves stretched tight, and she was tired. Spending her days at the shop and her nights with Tanner, trying to make every minute count, she felt as if she’d become frayed at the edges.
Maxine, never one to hold her tongue, felt obliged to offer advice. “For Pete’s sake, Amanda. When are you going to stop this foolishness and say yes to the man?”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it,” Amanda said, snapping at her friend, something she rarely did. She felt an immediate twinge of regret. “I’m sorry. I have no right to take out my problems on you.”
“Shout, yell, scream—do anything you want to. I’m thick-skinned. Besides, I’m your best friend.” She came and put her arms around Amanda’s shoulders. “Take my advice and face whatever is bothering you.”
Maxine didn’t press for a reply; she continued her work in the shop, doing her cheerful best to dispel Amanda’s gloom.
A winter gale developed in mid-afternoon. The shrieking wind and thrashing rain matched Amanda’s mood. She felt bleak inside, and the urge to rage against fate was so great that she had a hard time containing it.
“There’s no need to keep the shop open,” she told Maxine. “Nobody will come out in this storm. Besides that, I’m sick of smiling when I don’t feel like it.”
“There’s a cure for that, you know.”
“If you tell me it’s Tanner, I’m going to scream.”
“For once in my life I’m not going to be flippant.” She put on her coat and began to button it. “Tanner probably is the cure, Amanda. At least it appears to me that the man really loves you. But the only way to chase the blues is to search your heart and mind until you find the cause— then do something about it!” She fastened the last button on her coat and grabbed her purse. “There. I’ve had my say. I feel just like Dear Abby.”
Amanda hugged her neck. “You look just like dear Maxine. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Just put it in the form of a bonus check.”
Both of them were laughing when Maxine left the shop. Amanda stood at the window until she saw her friend get into her old Ford and drive off, then she turned back to close up. To help chase her blues, she turned on the radio. The station was playing Glenn Miller songs. Picking up a red satin gown one of her customers had dropped across the back of a chair, Amanda waltzed across the floor. Pretending to be gay and carefree made her feel better.