“I’m going to dance with Caroline now, okay?” he said to Rorie.
“That’s fine,” she answered, smiling, “and thank you for braving the dance floor with me.” Skip blushed as he slipped an arm around Caroline’s waist and hurried her off.
“You game?” Luke nodded toward the dancing couples.
Rorie didn’t hesitate. She swallowed the punch in three giant gulps, and gave him her hand. Together they moved onto the crowded floor.
By the end of the third set of dances, Rorie had twirled around with so many different partners, she lost track of them. She’d caught sight of Clay only once, and when he saw her he waved. Returning the gesture, she promptly missed her footing and nearly fell into her partner’s waiting arms. The tall sheriff’s deputy was all too happy to have her throw herself at him and told her as much, to Rorie’s embarrassment.
Although it was only ten o’clock, Rorie was exhausted and so warm the perspiration ran in rivulets down her face and neck. She had to escape. Several times, she’d tried to sit out a dance, but no one would listen to her excuses.
In an effort to catch her breath and cool down, Rorie took advantage of a break between sets to wander outside. The night air was refreshing. Quite a few other people had apparently had the same idea; the field that served as a car park was crowded with groups and strolling couples.
As she made her way through the dimly lit field, she saw a handful of men passing around a flask of whiskey and entertaining each other with off-color jokes. She steered a wide circle around them and headed toward Luke’s parked car, deciding it was far enough away to discourage anyone from following her. In her eagerness to escape, she nearly stumbled over a couple locked in a passionate embrace against the side of a pickup.
Rorie mumbled an apology when the pair glanced up at her, irritation written all over their young faces. Good grief, she’d only wanted a few minutes alone in order to get a breath of fresh air—she hadn’t expected to walk through an obstacle course!
When she finally arrived at Luke Rivers’s car, she leaned on the fender and slowly inhaled the clean country air. All her assumptions about this evening had been wrong. She’d been so sure she’d feel lonely and bored and out of place. And she’d felt none of those things. If she were to tell Dan about the Grange dance, he’d laugh at the idea of having such a grand time with a bunch of what he’d refer to as “country bumpkins.” The thought annoyed her. These were good, friendly, fun-loving people. They’d taken her under their wing, expressed their welcome without reserve, and now they were showing her an uncomplicated life-style that had more appeal than Rorie would have believed possible.
“I thought I’d find you out here.”
Rorie’s whole body tensed as she recognized the voice of the man who’d joined her.
“Hello, Clay.”
Eight
Rorie injected a cheerful note into her voice. She turned around, half expecting Kate to be with him. The two had been inseparable from the minute Clay had arrived. It was just as well that Kate was around, since her presence prevented Clay and Rorie from giving in to any temptation.
Clay’s hands settled on her shoulders and Rorie flinched involuntarily at his touch. With noticeable regret, Clay dropped his hands.
“Are you having a good time?” he asked.
She nodded. “I didn’t think I would, which tells you how prejudiced I’ve been about country life, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”
“I’m glad.” His hands clenched briefly at his sides, then he flexed his fingers a couple of times. “I would’ve danced with you myself, but—”
She stopped him abruptly. “Clay, no. Don’t explain…it isn’t necessary. I understand.”
His eyes held hers with such tenderness that she had to look away. The magical quality was in the air again—Rorie could feel it as forcefully as if the stars had spelled it out across the heavens.
“I don’t think you do understand, Rorie,” Clay said, “but it doesn’t matter. You’ll be gone in a couple of days and both our lives will go back to the way they were meant to be.”
Rorie agreed with a quick nod. It was too tempting, standing in the moonlight with Clay. Much too tempting. The memory of another night in which they’d stood and gazed at the stars returned with powerful intensity. Rorie realized that even talking to each other, alone like this, was dangerous.
“Won’t Kate be looking for you?” she asked carefully.
“No. Luke Rivers is dancing with her.”
For a moment she closed her eyes, not daring to look up at Clay. “I guess I’ll be going inside now. I just came out to catch my breath and cool down a little.”
“Dance with me first—here in the moonlight.”
A protest rose within her, but the instant Clay slid his arms around her waist, Rorie felt herself give in. Kate would have him the rest of her life, but Rorie only had these few hours. Almost against her will, her hands found his shoulders, slipping around his neck with an ease that brought a sigh of pleasure to her lips. Being held by Clay shouldn’t feel this good.
“Oh, Rorie,” he moaned as she settled into his embrace.
They fitted together as if they’d been created for each other. His chin touched the top of her head and he caressed her hair with his jaw.
“This is a mistake,” Rorie murmured, closing her eyes, savoring the warm, secure feel of his arms.
“I know…”
But neither seemed willing to release the other.
His mouth grazed her temple and he kissed her there. “God help me, Rorie, what am I going to do? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I can’t sleep, I hardly eat…” His voice was raw, almost savage.
“Oh, please,” she said with a soft cry. “We can’t…we mustn’t even talk like this.” His gray eyes smouldered above hers, and their breaths merged as his mouth hovered so close to her own.
“I vowed I wouldn’t touch you again.”
Rorie looked away. She’d made the same promise to herself. But it wasn’t in her to deny him now, although her mind searched frantically for the words to convince him how wrong they were to risk hurting Kate—and each other.
His hands drifted up from her shoulders, his fingertips skimming the sides of her neck, trailing over her cheeks and through the softness of her hair. He placed his index finger over her lips, gently stroking them apart.
Rorie moaned. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Clay’s left hand dug into her shoulders as her tongue caressed the length of his finger, drawing it into her mouth and sucking it gently. She needed him so much in that moment, she could have wept.
“Just this once…for these few minutes,” he pleaded, “let me pretend you’re mine.” His hands cupped her face and slowly brought her mouth to his, smothering her whimper of part welcome, part protest.
A long series of kisses followed. Deep, relentless, searching kisses that sent her heart soaring. Kisses that only made the coming loneliness more painful. A sob swelled within her and tears burned her eyes as she twisted away and tore her mouth from his.
“No,” she cried, covering her face with her hands and turning her back to him. “Please, Clay. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
He was silent for so long that Rorie suspected he’d left her. She inhaled a deep, calming breath and dropped her hands limply to her sides.
“It would be so easy to love you, Rorie.”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head vigorously as she faced him again. “I ’m not the right person for you—it’s too late for that. You’ve got Kate.” She couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice. Anything between them was hopeless, futile. Within a day or two her car would be repaired and she’d vanish from his life as suddenly as she’d appeared.
Clay fell silent, his shoulders stiff and resolute as he stood silhouetted against the light of the Grange Hall. His face was masked by shadows and Rorie couldn’t read his thoughts. He drew in a harsh breath.
“You�
�re right, Rorie. We can’t allow this…attraction between us to get out of hand. I promise you, by all I hold dear, that I won’t kiss you again.”
“I’ll…do my part, too,” she assured him, feeling better now that they’d made this agreement.
His hand reached for hers and clasped it warmly. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the hall. We’re going to be all right. We’ll do what we have to do.”
Clay’s tone told her he meant it. Relieved, Rorie silently made the same promise to herself.
Rorie slept late the next morning, later than she would have thought possible. Mary was busy with lunch preparations by the time she made her way downstairs.
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” Mary immediately asked.
In response, Rorie curtsyed and danced a few steps with an imaginary partner, clapping her hands.
Mary tried to hide a smile at Rorie’s antics. “Oh, get away with you now. All I was looking for was a yes or a no.”
“I had a great time.”
“It was nothing like those city hotspots, I’ll wager.”
“You’re right about that,” Rorie told her, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“You seeing Kate today?”
Rorie shook her head and popped a piece of bread in the toaster. “She’s got a doctor’s appointment this morning and a teachers’ meeting this afternoon. She’s going to stop by later if she has a chance, but if not I’ll be seeing her for sure tomorrow.” Rorie intended to spend as much time as she could with Clay’s fiancée. She genuinely enjoyed her company, and being with her served two useful purposes. It helped keep Rorie occupied, and it prevented her from being alone with Clay.
“What are you going to do today, then?” Mary asked, frowning.
Rorie laughed. “Don ’t worry. Whatever it is, I promise to stay out of your way.”
The housekeeper gave a snort of amusement—or was it relief?
“Actually, I thought I’d finish putting the data Clay needs for his pedigree-research program into the computer. There isn’t much left and I should be done by this afternoon.”
“So if someone comes looking for you, that’s where you’ll be?”
“That’s where I’ll be,” Rorie echoed. She didn’t know who would “come looking for her,” as Mary put it. The housekeeper made it sound as though a posse was due to arrive any minute demanding to know where the Franklin men were hiding Rorie Campbell.
Taking her coffee cup with her, Rorie walked across the yard and into the barn. Once more, she was impressed with all the activity that went on there. She’d come to know several of the men by their first names and returned their greetings with a smile and a wave.
As before, she found the office empty. She set down her cup while she turned on the computer and collected Clay’s data. She’d just started to type it in when she heard someone enter the room. Pausing, she twisted around.
“Rorie.”
“Clay.”
They were awkward with each other now. Almost afraid.
“I didn’t realize you were here.”
She stood abruptly. “I ’ll leave…”
“No. I came up to get something. I’ll be gone in a minute.”
She nodded and sat back down. “Okay.”
He walked briskly to his desk and sifted through the untidy stacks of paper. His gaze didn’t waver from the task, but his jaw was tight, his teeth clenched. Impatience marked his every move. “Kate told me you’re involved with a man in San Francisco. I…didn’t know.”
“I’m not exactly involved with him—at least not in the way you’re implying. His name is Dan Rogers, and we’ve been seeing each other for about six months. He’s divorced. The MG is his.”
Clay’s mouth thinned, but he still didn’t look at her. “Are you in love with him?”
“No.”
Lowering his head, Clay rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I had no right to ask you that. None. Forgive me, Rorie.” Then, clutching his papers, he stalked out of the office without a backward glance.
Rorie was so shaken by the encounter that when she went back to her typing, she made three mistakes in a row and had to stop to regain her composure.
When the phone rang, she ignored it, knowing Mary or one of the men would answer it. Soon afterward, she heard running footsteps behind her and swivelled around in the chair.
A breathless Skip bolted into the room. Shoulders heaving, he pointed in the direction of the telephone.
“It’s for you,” he panted.
“Me?” It could only be Dan.
He nodded several times, his hand braced theatrically against his heart.
She picked up the extension. “Hello,” she said, her fingers closing tightly around the receiver. “This is Rorie Campbell.”
“Miss Campbell,” came the unmistakable voice of George, the mechanic in Riversdale, “let me put it to you like this. I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“Now what?” she cried, pushing her hair off her forehead with an impatient hand. She had to get out of Elk Run.
“My man picked up the water pump for your car in Portland just like we planned.”
“Good.”
George sighed heavily. “There’s a minor problem, though.”
“Minor?” she repeated hopefully.
“Well, not that minor actually.”
“Oh, great…Listen, George, I’d prefer not to play guessing games with you. Just tell me what happened and how long it’s going to be before I can get out of here.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Campbell, but they shipped the wrong part. It’ll be two, possibly three more days.”
Nine
“What’s the matter?” Skip asked when Rorie indignantly replaced the receiver.
She crossed her arms over her chest and breathed deeply, battling down the angry frustration that boiled inside her. The problem wasn’t George’s fault, or Skip’s, or Kate’s, or anyone else’s.
“Rorie?” Skip asked again.
“They shipped the wrong part for the car,” she said flatly. “I ’m going to be stuck here for another two or possibly three days.”
Skip didn’t look the least bit perturbed at this information. “Gee, Rorie, that’s not so terrible. We like having you around—and you like it here, don’t you?”
“Yes, but…” How could she explain that her reservations had nothing to do with their company, the farm or even with country life? She couldn’t very well blurt out that she was falling in love with his brother, that she had to escape before she ruined their lives.
“But what?” Skip asked.
“My vacation.”
“I know you had other plans, but you can relax and enjoy yourself here just as well, can’t you?”
She didn’t attempt to answer him, but closed her eyes and nodded, faintly.
“Well, listen, I’ve got to get back to work. Do you need me for anything?”
She shook her head. When the office door closed, Rorie sat down in front of the computer again and poised her fingers over the keyboard. She sat like that, unmoving, for several minutes as her thoughts churned. What was she going to do? Every time she came near Clay the attraction was so strong that trying to ignore it was like swimming upstream. Rorie had planned on leaving Elk Run the following day. Now she was trapped here for God only knew how much longer.
She got up suddenly and started pacing the office floor. Dan hadn’t called her, either. She might have vanished from the face of the earth as far as he was concerned. The stupid car was his, after all, and the least he could do was make some effort to find out what had happened. Rorie knew she wasn’t being entirely reasonable, but she was caught up in the momentum of her anger and frustration.
Impulsively she snatched up the telephone receiver, had the operator charge the call to her San Francisco number and dialed Dan’s office.
“Rorie, thank God you phoned,” Dan said.
The worry in his voice appeased her a little. “The least you could’ve don
e was call me back,” she fumed.
“I tried. My secretary apparently wrote down the wrong number. I’ve been waiting all this time for you to call me again. Why didn’t you? What on earth is going on?”
She told him in detail, from the stalled car to her recent conversation with the mechanic. She didn’t tell him about Clay Franklin and the way he made her feel.
“Rorie, baby, I’m so sorry.”
She nodded mutely, close to tears. If she wasn’t so dangerously close to falling in love with Clay, none of this would seem such a disaster.
The silence lengthened while Dan apparently mulled things over. “Shall I come and get you?” he finally asked.
“With what?” she asked with surprising calm. “My car? You were the one who convinced me it would never make this trip. Besides, how would you get the MG back?”
“I’d figured something out. Listen, I can’t let you sit around in some backwoods farm town. I’ll borrow a car or rent one.” He hesitated, then expelled his breath in a short burst of impatience. “Damn, forget that. I can’t come.”
“You can’t?”
“I’ve got a meeting tomorrow afternoon. It’s important—I can’t miss it. I’m sorry, Rorie, I really am, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, defeat causing her voice to dip slightly. “I understand.” In a crazy kind of way she did. Dan was a rising stockbroker, so career moves were critical to him, more important than rescuing Rorie, the woman he claimed to love…Somehow Rorie couldn’t picture Clay making the same decision. In her heart she knew Clay would come for her the second she asked.
They spoke for a few more minutes before Rorie ended the conversation. She felt trapped, as though the walls were closing in around her. So far she and Clay had managed to disguise their feelings, but they wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer before someone guessed. Kate wasn’t blind, and neither was Mary.
Country Brides Page 8
