For anyone who followed this fic when it was originally published – this is not a new chapter. I just decided to split the story into three chapters because I felt that it was too long as one single piece.
XXX
October 1912
It was a little over a week since Marian had reconciled with Harold at the emporium and learned of the heart-wrenching fate of his father. Since that day, she had been privy to an almost dizzying influx of information about Harold's life. He was like a spigot that suddenly opened; once he began talking, the stories just kept coming and coming.
It was fall in Iowa; the air was delightfully crisp and the trees were a burst of color – the perfect backdrop for heart-to-heart talks. Nearly every day, Marian took strolls with Harold, and he told her something about his past. Some days, he talked for hours. Harold laid out his prior history with such rapid, earnest zeal that it seemed almost as if he was eager to make up for lost time – or felt he didn't have a lot of time to tell her everything he wanted to say. Marian surmised this was a side effect of being used to life as a nomadic conman; Harold had been on the move for over two decades, and the luxury of permanency was still new to him.
Perhaps she should have urged him to pace himself a bit more as he adjusted to his new circumstances, but Marian couldn't restrain her curiosity; she eagerly drank in everything he told her. Much of it was unpleasant to hear, but nothing Harold said dimmed her love for him, or her desire to know him better. It probably helped, of course, that he often demonstrated remorse for his actions. And even when he didn't, his willingness to reveal himself to her showed just how committed he was to putting his past behind him and starting a new life in River City – though of course, Marian did not dare to presume what that might mean for her.
But in her eagerness, she initially overlooked how much of an additional strain this put on Harold. He would always be a man who attracted crowds and, though he usually gloried in and thrived on being at the center of attention, even he needed a break from the limelight every now and again. But in this small town, he had no place for solitude and quiet reflection. The music professor was a busy man; from the moment he left his house early in the morning to when he finally returned home late in the evening, he was assailed by people seeking his opinions on and assistance with several subjects.
And gradually, it was wearing him down. One afternoon, when Marian closed the library early so she could help him at the music emporium – something she did three afternoons a week – she was surprised to find the main auditorium empty. Usually, Harold was waiting for her with a chipper grin and energetic demeanor. But even though he wasn't there, Marian didn't have an inkling of trouble. Figuring the busy music professor had gotten caught up in paperwork, she went down the hall to his office. The door was ajar and, after courteously giving a gentle knock, Marian entered the room.
Indeed, Harold was sitting at his desk. But instead of being industrially at work, he was staring vacantly at his pocket watch. On his face was the glum, drained expression of a man who yearned for peace but was having difficulty finding it. As Marian debated whether or not it would be wise to interrupt, Harold turned and spotted her.
"Marian – you're early!" he said with a grin. But his eyes didn't shine with their usual vivacious luster.
"Actually, I'm running precisely three minutes behind," she gently pointed out, a sympathetic smile tugging at the edges of her lips. Harold must have been in a terribly tired state, if he had lost track of the time even with a watch in his hand.
But her smile disappeared when the music professor cast a confirming glance at his pocket watch. The moment he saw she was correct, his eyes widened in guilty alarm, as if she had caught him doing something wrong. In fact, his expression was downright cagey – a look Marian had seen many times before that eventful day in the emporium when he had finally started to open up to her. But before she could ask Harold what the matter was, he hastily stowed the watch in the pocket of his suit-coat and rose from his chair.
"Well, what say we go over the music, then?" he asked in a falsely bright, cheerful voice.
Marian's first impulse was to be hurt, and she wondered if he was regretting how much he had divulged to her. But as she gazed thoughtfully at Harold, she realized that now wasn't the time. He had shared a lot of himself with her – more than he had probably ever shared with any other person – and it was high time she returned the favor. Coming to a quick decision about something she had been mulling over for the past few weeks, Marian replied, "I think there's something more important for us to do right now than go over music."
Even though she had kept her tone light and easy, Harold sighed, and her heart ached to see he looked like a man utterly defeated. "Marian," he began wearily, almost pleadingly.
She gently placed her hand over his mouth. "I apologize for disturbing you in your office, but I thought we might forgo the activities we had planned for this afternoon. It's such a beautiful fall day, I thought we might take a ramble instead."
He warily raised an eyebrow at her. "A ramble?"
Marian smiled at this utterly unsurprising reaction. "Yes… there's something I've been wanting to show you. But there's one catch, Professor."
The suspicion in Harold's eyes began to abate as intrigue started to get the better of him. "What?" he asked curiously.
Her smile broadened. "You are not allowed to say a single word until we reach our destination."
Harold gazed uncomprehendingly at her, as if she had started to speak ancient Greek.
Repressing a laugh, Marian further informed him, "I'm not allowed to speak, either."
A twinkle of mischief danced across his eyes. "Is that so, Madam Librarian?"
"Yes," she said gravely. "But I warn you, we might have to be silent for quite awhile – a half hour at least. Do you accept those conditions?"
He gave her a crooked, uncertain smile. "May I at least ask where you're planning on taking me?"
She shook her head. "That would spoil the surprise." Walking to the door, Marian tossed a glance over her shoulder. "So are you game, Professor Hill?"
"Always," Harold said with a grin as he followed her out of the emporium.
XXX
As Marian led Harold along, purposely selecting avenues where they would be less likely to encounter people, her heart pounded heavily. It was a long way to be walking alone with him, and the last thing she wanted to do was add more fuel to fire. The River City-ziens already noted with scandalized glee the librarian and music professor's frequent footbridge visits and, in the past week, had begun to buzz excitedly about the ever-increasing amount of time the music professor and librarian were spending alone in each other's company.
Even Mrs. Paroo had begun to grow concerned, though Marian had repeatedly reassured her mother there was no cause for worry. Her meetings with Harold had grown quite serious in tone; though his regard for her was still evident in his eyes and smile, he rarely engaged in flirtatious banter or playfully tried to steal kisses, using the slenderest of pretexts to justify his actions.
Still, it was natural to expect that among Mrs. Paroo and the townspeople, speculation would be rife as to the day when, if ever, the two of them announced their engagement. Marian had even heard, to her shocked amusement, that a few of the more enterprising River City-ziens currently had a betting pool going. She could only imagine what the reaction would be if enough people saw the two of them going off like this.
But it was worth the risk. Harold was worth the risk. And he needed this.
It took them about forty-five minutes to reach their destination: a faraway field amidst the farms north of town. As it was used primarily as pastureland by the surrounding farms, the only other creatures Marian had ever shared the area with were cows, or the odd sheep. When they arrived at the cluster of oak trees at the top of the hill, Marian gently bade Harold to look at the breathtaking view, and was pleased to hear his sudden intake of breath as he did so.
"You can see everything from up here," he observed in a voice of quiet awe as he gazed at the distant River City buildings, which looked so small amidst the vast panorama of bright fall foliage. "But there's nothing or no one around for miles… "
"My father and I discovered this field on one of our strolls together, soon after our family came to River City." Marian smiled sadly. "When he could no longer take such long walks, I came here alone. This spot saved my sanity many times during the lonely years after Papa passed away. It's a good place to think; I come here whenever I need to escape."
Harold gazed at her with tender sympathy. "Is this where you went the day of the parade?"
Marian nodded. "Yes – though that's the only time I've needed to come here since meeting you," she was quick to explain. "But sometimes, before you came to River City, I would pack a book and a picnic lunch and spend whole afternoons here, in glorious solitude."
Harold's hand quietly found hers, and he turned to survey the land again. "You thought I could use a place like this," he said knowingly.
Marian nodded again. "I did. But I also wanted to let you into my heart, Harold." Ignoring the blush spreading across her cheeks, she added, "I've never met anyone else here. I've never showed or even talked about this place with another soul."
Harold's free hand reached over and took hers, and he turned her toward him until they were looking into each other's eyes. His gaze was as awed as it had been when he was taking in the view surrounding them. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Marian."
When the next words out of his mouth were the opening to what promised to be a long story about how he came by the pocket watch he had been morosely staring at earlier, Marian placed her hand over his mouth. "You don't need to talk about your past today, Harold," she said kindly. "I brought you here to relax, not exorcise old demons."
When Harold continued to protest, Marian knew firmer action was needed. Walking over to one of the oak trees and taking a seat on the ground, she said with a touch of amused exasperation, "Well, if you're not going to take advantage of the peace and quiet, then I certainly will."
Looking too worn down to object any further, Harold wearily came over and took a seat next to her. "I suppose I could do with some rest," he acknowledged, the exhaustion apparent in his voice. As Marian smiled triumphantly and leaned back against the tree's trunk, Harold stretched his arms, let out a yawn and laid down. "A nap would be wonderful, actually… "
Perhaps it was because she had always dreamed of sharing this place with the man she loved. Perhaps it was because being this alone with Harold made her feel bold. Or perhaps it was merely as simple as feeling a sad twinge at seeing her haggard beau shivering on the cold, hard ground. Whatever the cause, Marian found herself softly calling out her beloved's name. When he looked up, she patted her lap. "Harold, why don't you come here?" she suggested, her voice quiet and serious.
Harold gazed at her with unabashed longing. "Oh Marian," he sighed ruefully, "I really shouldn't… "
Marian simply looked at him with steady affection. Unable to resist the invitation she so sweetly offered, Harold sat up and moved closer. Once his head was resting on her lap, he looked up at her with a wan smile. "You don't fight fair, Madam Librarian."
She smoothed back a curl that had worked its way loose from his carefully-coifed wave. "I thought that's what you liked about me, Professor Hill," she said with a sly smile.
As Harold's eyes closed and he dozed off, Marian's smile faded, and she gazed at him with hungry, unconcealed yearning. How many times in the past had she imagined this exact tableau? Even before she met Harold, she had always longed to share this place with her white knight, stroking his hair as he sought repose in her lap, until her own eyes closed and she joined him in a peaceful afternoon nap.
But now that those dreams had become a reality, Marian couldn't join Harold in restful slumber. She was too acutely aware of the feel of him in her lap – the back of his head pressing on her thighs, his cheek resting lightly against the flat plane of her stomach. They had shared deep kisses, rested their heads in the curve of each other's necks, and clung together with arms wrapped tightly around each other, but they had never been close this way. Marian sat frozen with nervousness, hardly daring to breathe and terrified her now-unsettled stomach would let out an embarrassing rumble. When Harold shifted in his sleep, his cheek brushing insistently against her abdomen as if he was trying to nestle even closer to her, she couldn't help closing her eyes and letting out a small gasp when his motions sent the most delightful shivers coursing through her body. It was terribly improper what they were doing – not to mention quite dangerous – but at the same time, it felt more right than anything she had ever known.
At any other time, Marian would have been certain Harold moved that way on purpose. But his face didn't even twitch at her ardent little sigh – and he would never have let such an event go without at least smiling slightly. Apparently, he truly was asleep… or he was an even better actor than she realized. Tentatively, Marian brought her fingers to rest on Harold's forehead. When he still didn't twitch, she twined her fingers in his disheveled curls and gently began to caress his hair. Even then, Harold's demeanor was completely unchanged. Relaxing slightly – but still remaining intensely aware of the thrilling but alarming possibility that his head might shift in her lap again at any moment – Marian smiled at her sleeping beau and continued her ministrations.
This was the first time she had ever observed Harold when he wasn't awake. He looked so endearingly vulnerable yet content, Marian couldn't take her eyes off him – even though she probably should have. The longer she looked at Harold, the more she wanted to dip her head and cover his handsome face with kisses. But it was imperative that she quiet the unseemly thoughts whirling furiously in her mind. If Harold woke up and saw her like this, he would kiss her, and it wouldn't do for both of them to completely abandon decorum.
As Marian struggled to regain control of her senses, Harold's eyes opened and, once his sleep-dazed vision cleared, he immediately sat up from her lap. She instantly schooled her features into a pleasant but neutral expression, but he didn't regard her with his normal scrutinizing gaze. He didn't even really look at her; instead, he seemed oddly self-conscious, and turned his attention to the view.
"Is anything the matter, Harold?" Marian asked, concerned.
After a moment, he looked at her again. "The reason I was looking at my watch like that earlier is because I found it waiting for me in my New York P.O. box around this time fifteen years ago. The watch belonged to my father, and Mother tried to give it to me several times. But I kept putting her off, telling her to save it and send it to me when she really needed me to come home." Harold paused and blinked until the glistening in his eyes faded. "The date on her letter indicated she'd sent me the watch six months ago. So I dropped everything and headed to California. But by the time I arrived, she'd already been dead for five months – consumption got her. It was my own damn fault I missed her, of course, but I always regretted not having the chance to say goodbye – "
"Harold," Marian interrupted, "as I said earlier, you don't have to tell me these things today – "
Now it was her turn to hush; Harold placed his finger gently on her lips. "It's fine, Marian," he said earnestly. "I want to tell you these things. I want to tell you everything. I'm flattered you shared this place with me, but being alone isn't what I really want – not anymore." Taking her hands in his, he helped her to her feet. "Unless it's being alone with you."
Harold was now looking at her with a heat and intensity that made her stomach flutter. Marian had seen flashes of this look before, even all the way back when he was just pursuing her as part of his con. Although she loathed him in those days, that fervent look of his had affected some primeval part of her; now she could admit her instincts yearned for the traveling salesman long before her heart did.
As they stood together handclasped, gazing at one another in the electric silence that always fell just before their more momentous embraces, Marian wondered just how passionately Harold was going to kiss her this time. Would he kiss her cheeks, ears and forehead, his hands and lips gently exploring every area the unwritten rules between them allowed? Or would he go beyond those boundaries? And would she let him? The sting of what happened in the emporium had gone away; all Marian remembered was the pleasure Harold had brought her when he gave her that love-bite. She wanted him to ardently trail his mouth across her bare neck; she wanted his hands to caress more than just her shoulders, arms and waist. Though he might not have known it, Harold wasn't the only one whose defenses were worn down; Marian would have done whatever he wished. He had her, body and soul, and she couldn't deny him any longer.
So Marian breathlessly waited for Harold to make his move. And for one brief, heart-stopping moment, he looked at her like he was going to take her in his arms and give her every single one of those kisses and caresses she had been imagining. But then he let out a long sigh and, though he continued to hold her hands in his, took a step back.
"I want more from you than kisses, Marian," Harold told her, his voice low and intense. "More even than heated embraces. I want the certainty and knowledge that you're mine forever – heaven knows I'm already yours. I want the privilege of being alone with you like this without anyone – and that includes you, darling – wondering about my intentions. Even though I told you that day in the emporium I couldn't guarantee I won't break your heart, I can't imagine that I ever will."
Just as Marian's eyes were widening as she gradually realized the significance of what he was saying – could another dearly-held dream be coming true? – Harold stopped himself, and took a deep breath. "But this isn't the time or the place… and for once in my life, I want to do things properly." Giving her a wistful smile, he let go of her hands. "So I think I'd better escort you home now, Miss Marian."
Marian knew she ought to feel flattered and relieved by this turn of events, but she couldn't help being slightly disappointed, as well. Masking her jumbled emotions with a gracious smile, she took Harold's proffered arm, and the two of them returned to civilization. As they walked along in silence, Harold placed his hand over hers as it rested on his arm and, when he casually stroked her ring finger once or twice, her heart hammered wildly.
But Marian didn't say a word. Nor did she drop a single, subtle hint – though she had the sense she probably could have gotten a marriage proposal from Harold if she pressed him enough. However, at the beginning of their relationship, she had vowed to herself she would never coax any promises out of him. And as thrilled as she was with the progress Harold was making, she knew he still needed time. So Marian filed that dear dream of hers away in the card catalog of her mind. For now, it was enough to know that he truly loved her; if he hadn't, he would have taken what he wanted long ago, and been done with River City forever.
When they reached the Paroo front porch, Harold turned to Marian with his trademark grin, and she rejoiced to see the resurgence of his usual high spirits. "Thank you again for the sightseeing tour this afternoon," he said in a booming, nonchalant voice. "River City certainly has its points of interest!"
Supposing this was for the benefit of her mother, who was likely keeping an eye on them from behind the parlor curtains, Marian cordially replied, "It was my pleasure, Professor Hill."
"I definitely plan to make use of the facilities you showed me in the future," Harold continued. With a wink, he leaned a little closer and added in a much lower voice, "And who knows? Perhaps I'll have company on a few of those strolls."
Now that they were back in River City and her defenses were solidly in place once more, Marian frowned at the implication of impropriety. But before she could scold Harold for his brazenness, he grinned and raised his voice again. "Are you available tomorrow afternoon? I wanted to discuss costumes for the Halloween masque."
Though he had made Marian an offer she couldn't refuse – the masque was only a few weeks away, and they hadn't even decided what they were going to be – she still managed to find a way to take him down a peg. "Why don't you come by the house, and we'll mull it over on the front porch," she suggested in a firm voice. Under her mother's watchful eye, the liberties he could take would be severely curtailed.
Harold chuckled, and she knew if he could have said touché to her without it sounding out of place, he would have. "I look forward to it," he graciously conceded.
But before Marian could revel too much in her triumph, Harold gave a quick glance around and, seeing that they were sufficiently hidden from view, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close for a tender but ardent kiss. And she couldn't help surrendering to his embrace – even though she soon realized he had once again evened the score with this gesture.
Yet perhaps she wasn't completely defeated, after all; when Harold ended things a few moments later, his expression was just as smolderingly serious as it had been when they were alone together on the hill. "Marian," he whispered, leaning in so close she could feel his warm breath on her ear and neck, "I meant everything I said to you in that field, you know."
Her heart getting the better of her once more, Marian turned her head until her mouth found Harold's for a gentle, lingering kiss. "I know you did, Harold," she said softly, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. In the past when they stood together like this on her front porch, she had always limited her displays of affection to a brief peck on the cheek. If she had become this bold even in such an exposed place, how could she trust herself to be alone with him in the future?
Though he gazed at Marian with similar longing in his eyes, Harold simply grinned and bade her farewell. At that, she wryly reflected that although she was no longer sure she could trust herself, it was a blessing she could still trust him.
Hiding her disconcertment behind a cordial smile, Marian casually waved at Harold as he exited the front gate. As she watched the man she loved disappear around the corner of West Elm, she realized with a pang that although he might tease, he would never seriously ask her to accompany him to that field – at least, not unless he asked her another question first. So when Marian finally turned to go inside, she dreamed wistfully but hopefully of the day when she and Harold could be that alone together again.