soothed him when his anger and impatience with his father’s pushing drove him nuts. She even went so far as to temper her criticism of his actions when he needed it; and there were times when he needed it. All because she loved him, had loved him as an adolescent, and loved him still, even now that he was making a fool of himself over Raven Rutledge. Anyone with an ounce of sense could see Raven was just toying with him, but still Jackson was eager to play.
Jackson half-turned in profile and she caught sight of his face, his expression both one of misery and determination. Reluctantly, her heart went out to him. She knew what it felt like to love someone who didn’t love you back. She stepped forward, her heels clicking on the wood floor, drawing his attention.
He turned fully, his face hopeful but sinking into resigned lines when he saw her. Lorianne’s heart sank, but she recovered quickly. One thing she’d learned as a child of a political household was how to hide her feelings.
“Hi,” she said, careful to keep her voice light and her lie believable. “Hope I’m not interrupting. My head’s rather fuzzy, so I thought I’d sit by the fire for a while.”
Jackson shrugged and indicated a sofa. “Be my guest.”
Lorianne nodded and walked over to settle herself on one of the plump cushions as Jackson turned back to stare into the fire. An uncomfortable silence stretched out for a few minutes, the air swirling with emotions. She studied Jackson’s drooping shoulders, but suddenly instead of wanting to comfort him, she wanted to slug him. She started to say something when Jackson broke the silence.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
At that inane question, Lorianne almost started laughing, but quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as Jackson hunched his shoulders and faced her. She gave him a noncommittal, “I always love coming up here for a visit.”
“That’s good, that’s good.” His voice was distracted.
“What about you?” Lorianne asked. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
For the first time a flash of the Jackson Lorianne had known forever surfaced. “What do you think?”
Lorianne considered telling him, but realized he was too infatuated for it to do any good. She settled for, “Things do seem a bit awkward.”
Jackson snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
“I wish there was a way I could help.” When Jackson didn’t comment, Lorianne continued in a soft voice, “Have you known her long?”
“For a few weeks. But they’ve been the happiest weeks of my life.”
Her heart dropped to her shoes. “Really?” Not the answer she was looking for.
“You know how sometimes you see someone and you know they’re the one for you?”
Lorianne nodded . Yes, I know.
“That’s how I felt when I saw her in Colorado. She was in the foyer of her home, surrounded by priceless antiques and gilt. God, I’ve never seen such an over-the-top mansion in my life”—he grimaced—”a silver baron with more money than taste. I wish you could have seen it, Lorianne.”
“I can imagine,” she smiled. “I watch America’s Castles on TV.”
Jackson gave her interruption an impatient wave. “Then Raven stepped forward to greet me, and the surroundings fell away.” His expression was— besotted , Lorianne thought before he continued, “All I could see was Raven. It was the most profound moment of my life.”
Lorianne just stared back at him. “It was?”
“Absolutely.”
“Almost a religious experience, no doubt.” Lorianne winced, wondering if he heard the sarcasm in her voice.
With an eager step Jackson came over to her and sat down, gathering her hands in his. “I knew you’d understand.”
“Ummm, sure.”
“She was so full of life. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Still can’t.”
Lorianne studied their clasped hands. “I noticed.”
“So did her father. He encouraged me to ask her to come back here with me.” He leaned closer to whisper. “I wanted to
Kent Flannery, Joyce Marcus