Conflict doesn’t occur only among soldiers on a battlefield. Sometimes it’s with those we hold dear, and then we have no idea how to stand up and fight, much less win the battle. In 1916, blue-blooded Bostonian Jack runs away from his headstrong mother and a family tragedy. On the road, he meets Lizzy, who has inherited her family’s once-grand tobacco plantation, Rollins Farm, and is struggling to pay off huge debts and uphold her family’s honor. Lizzy’s dark secrets keep her heart locked up and prevent her from loving. By happenstance, these two opposites meet in a small town in South Carolina and are immediately drawn to each other, but can they overcome Lizzy’s fiery temper, the fact that Jack was born mute, their divergent cultural backgrounds, heartbreaking trials and tribulations, and menacing bullies and live a life of love together, or will their differences and misunderstandings drive them apart? These two broken souls on the brink of eternal despair embark upon a life-changing journey defined equally by the challenges they face and by their undeniable growing passion.
Lizzy was on fire too. “Oh, I’m sure, Mr. Montgomery, you’re just the person to tell me, what do I need?” “You need to be kissed.” “And I suppose you’re just the man to do it, aren’t you?” She had closed her eyes after the lightning struck, waiting for the impending thunder. Feeling him in front of her, an inch or closer she guessed, she didn’t dare open her eyes to find out. She felt his lips brush upon hers, his smell, his taste, and his tongue as he pressed his lips against hers. She didn’t resist, but she did hug the tree with both hands desperately digging her nails into the bark. He never touched her except with his lips. It was a drawn-out kiss, during which Lizzy waited for the thunder to voice itself, but it didn’t. All she could feel were his wonderful lips and the heat of his body radiating against her. She didn’t shudder against the storm or resist Jack in the least because oddly, she felt safe. She wanted to put her arms around him, but only managed to grab his shirt while keeping one hand on the tree for security, tugging so hard on the navy-blue shirt that made his eyes sparkle like diamonds, she thought she had ripped it. Reluctantly Jack pulled himself away from her mouth. Her eyes were still closed, her hand still gripping his shirt. He didn’t wait for more lightning. He didn’t need a reason to kiss her. He made no mistake; his hand still didn’t touch her. Instead, he placed it flat on the trunk of the tree and gripped it until his knuckles turned white. Another substantial kiss, and he didn’t want it to end. He could have gone further, run his hand through her hair or down the lines of her inviting figure, but he forced himself to find the control not to do so. He watched her trying to catch her breath with her eyes still closed and her mouth beckoning him for more, but the temptation was too much. If he kissed her again, it would lead to touching her, desperately touching her. Desirable as that was, he couldn’t let it happen, not justyet. He had never been with a woman, and in love was the only way he was going to be with someone. That said, he was man of discre- tion and morals, and perhaps a touch of Catholic guilt as well. So, he walked away into the storm, unafraid of any combat from lightning or Lizzy. Jack walked straight out into the fields and the downpour.