by Janet Dailey
'I've forgiven him,' she murmured. Of course, she'd forgiven him because she didn't care any more. He didn't matter to her, but how could she possibly tell Logan that?
'How gracious of you!' Logan removed a cigarette from his jacket pocket and snapped a gold lighter to it angrily. 'Does that mean you'll be leaving on Sunday?'
'No, it doesn't,' Jennifer replied sharply.
'Surely that would make the reconciliation complete?'
'There hasn't been one yet. And if there is—-' Jennifer paused. Her mind raced over the possibility. Could she dare wrap herself in the deception of a relationship with Brad? Would it cloak her with an armour to protect her from Logan? One thing was certain, if she didn't close the door with Brad, at least in everyone else's eyes, she would have a perfect alibi for leaving when the time came for her to go. 'If there is, I wouldn't leave right away. I wouldn't want to be swept away by my emotions. I'd want time to think about it. Plus, I wouldn't want Sheila to be caught in the lurch by my desertion.'
'It's amazing how a woman can be so cold-blooded and analytical in the face of a powerful emotion like love. Aren't you tempting fate by withholding such a morsel?' His eyes raked her body thoroughly, sending a wave of colour into her cheeks. 'What if he finds some one else who isn't as coolheaded as you?'
'I'll take my chances,' she replied evenly.
'You can't possibly be in love with him! There would be nothing to think about. You don't even know what love is!' Her heart and lungs came screeching to a halt as Logan's hand forced her chin upwards before she could twist away. There was no masking the anger and contempt in his eyes. 'Enjoy your victory in bringing him to heel. But you are not going to marry him!'
'Why, you pompous, interfering…! I'm not Sheila, Logan Taylor! And I'm not going to allow you to run my life!' Jennifer exclaimed angrily, even though deep in her heart, she knew without him she would have no life, only an existence.
'You are not going to marry him,' Logan said firmly, calmly and coldly.
'It's none of your business what I do.' Even to her own ears the words sounded weak and ineffectual, but it didn't matter. Logan wasn't there to hear them. He was already mixing with a group of laughing people on the side of the dance floor.
Silently she watched him, her eyes smarting with unshed tears. She saw him stop beside Sheila before encircling her sister's waist with one arm and whisk her out on the dance floor, an enchanting warm smile on his face as he gazed down at her. Jennifer felt as if she was stepping off the lowest rung on the ladder.
'I've asked her to dance three times, and she's refused me every time.' Dirk spoke up from Jennifer's side.
She turned a pair of startled eyes on him, believing herself alone in the wasteland of merrymakers. His bleak, gloomy expression matched hers as they stared together at the dancing couple.
'I can't even ask "How are you?", but what she doesn't get that chilly expression on her face that says she'd like to turn me into a snowman,' Dirk grumbled, running a hand through his dark hair dejectedly.
'I think the secret is don't ask,' Jennifer sighed. She glanced at him sadly. Too many times she had seen Logan and Dirk standing side by side and Dirk always came out second best. She sympathized with his futility at competing with Logan Taylor. 'Why don't you go cut in on them?' she suggested softly. 'After all, Sheila's not about to make a scene in the middle of the floor.'
It would be a small victory for Dirk, Jennifer thought, but in the end he would pay the same price as she, when Sheila walked down the aisle to Logan. All the little baffles and skirmishes would not change the final outcome, and Logan would be the victor.
Jennifer watched as Logan relinquished his partner to Dirk, his eyes gleaming in triumphant hope, but she turned away before Logan's searching eyes could possibly meet hers. Brad would be looking for her by now. She derived solace from that thought. Without him as a crutch this evening, she would have turned tail and run. Slowly, she made her way through the crowd until she could see his dark head bending courteously towards one of the older people in the group. When he finally saw her, his dark eyes sparkled brightly at her.
'Jennifer.' He reached out a hand and drew her into the circle of his arm. He nuzzled her red-gold hair for a brief moment before excusing himself from the group. 'It's almost the witching hour. Can't we bring in the New Year alone?'
Why not? she thought to herself. The laughter, the music, the noise, were all compounding the strain of the evening. She made no protest as Brad led her out of the room down a vacant hallway.
'Do you have any idea how much I wanted to be alone with you all evening?' Brad murmured, imprisoning her against the wall with his arms.
'Please, Brad, don't,' Jennifer protested as he sought to take her in his arms.
'I don't blame you for pushing me away.' Brad's hand caressed her cheek lightly. 'What I did that night was unforgivable—I know that. Can't you give me a chance to make it up to you?' Jennifer turned her face away from him, fighting the nausea of the memory and the odour of alcohol on his breath now. He removed his hand from her cheek, his pleading eyes searching her face. 'I was drunk and angry that night. I admit that you were nothing more to me than another girl. I told myself I was glad that you'd gone, that there were plenty more where you came from. Then you began to haunt me. No matter what I did, or where I went, I couldn't get you out of my mind. Come back with me.'
'Brad, it's over and done with,' Jennifer sighed. 'There's no way back.'
'Don't you see, Jennifer? It was your innocence and purity that aroused me.' His voice was hoarse.
Where had she heard that before? Jennifer thought in defeat.
'I wanted you then, and, God help me, I still want you now.'
'You don't love me, Brad,' she said calmly. 'I aroused your desire, but I never touched your heart. Be honest with yourself. If you hadn't run into me here by accident, in a month you would have forgotten me completely.'
'That's not true,' Brad whispered, gathering her into his arms. 'I'll prove it to you, that it's not true.'
His lips descended passionately on hers. Indifference would more effectively check his ardour than resistence, so Jennifer remained passive in his arms, her lips remaining cool to his kiss. Distantly she heard the chant of the New Year's celebrants as they counted down the seconds of the old year before they broke loose in a chorus of jubilant Happy New Years to the melancholy strains of 'Auld Lang Syne'. She closed her eyes tightly to prevent the tears from falling, indifferent to the fact that Brad's mouth had deserted her lips to rain kisses on her neck.
Was this a portent of the year to come? she wondered. Here, in the arms of a man who meant nothing to her, who could never mean anything to her? 'Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?' The words tore at her heart as Logan's image drifted clearly into her mind. No, she thought cynically, there was no chance that she would ever forget him.
Her eyes opened to look out through the mist of tears. Slowly her vision cleared, and she became aware of a figure in the hallway. Her heart sank as she looked over Brad's shoulder into Logan's glaring eyes. For one brief moment their eyes were locked before he turned on his heel and walked stiffly away.
Chapter Eight
IT lacked three days from being a month since Brad, after another evening of persistent persuasion at dinner and later dancing, had finally realized that Jennifer plainly wasn't interested in him any more and had taken his scheduled flight back to Minneapolis.
Of course, Jennifer never related any of this to anyone, even though Sheila had been quite determined to find out the results. But Jennifer just allowed her and anyone else to believe that she was considering Brad's offer. It was remarkably easy, she discovered, since everyone thought it was so romantic that Brad would have come all this way just to see her, which should surely prove he loved her. And it suited her purpose not to let them find out that he had had no idea that she was even here. A non-existent lover in a faraway town was a salve to her pride that chided h
er for falling so irrevocably in love with Logan Taylor.
She had tried desperately to replace that emotion with hatred and distaste, but only succeeded in generating occasional sparks of anger. The brief flare-ups had been worthless as Logan wasn't around to be a part of them. He seemed to be avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him. That wasn't quite true. He had been absent a great deal, but he had had very good reason. There had been numerous stockmen's warnings this last month when winter had descended on the mountains with a fury. His presence at the ranch had been required a great deal of the time.
The holiday season had passed, and the skiers were coming now only on the weekends. Carol was perfectly capable of handling the switchboard and the tours and the front desk duties, with Sheila pitching in if there was an abnormal rush. Jennifer was back to spending the weekdays at the house and helping out at the Lodge on the weekends if the reservations were heavy.
Dependable, determined Dirk was still banging his head away at Sheila's stone wall, making little progress. Although once in a while Jennifer noted the mortar chipping, Sheila quickly patched it up.
Jennifer knew why she was still staying here at Jackson, and Dirk was the reason. If by some wild, unimaginable chance he could succeed in capturing Sheila, though the possibility seemed terribly remote, Logan would be free. She just wished there was some way she could help Dirk, but her sister was very adept at making sure that Dirk never got very close to her.
'It's no use,' Jennifer thought. Not even this morning's excursion of window shopping through the town had managed to get her mind off the situation. At least, lunching with her sister would ensure that none of the things that were occupying Jennifer's mind would be aired openly. She sighed wearily as she pushed open the Lodge door and fixed a cheery smile on her face as she greeted Carol.
'Is Sheila busy?'
'I don't think so' Carol shrugged. 'She's back in the office. Go on in.'
Jennifer nodded, opening the counter gate and proceeding down the small hallway behind the reception area to the private offices. She rapped lightly on Sheila's door before opening it. She poked her head around the door, expecting to see her sister's raven head bent over her desk, but the room was empty. Her eyebrows drew together in a frown as she closed the door quietly. She started to return to the reception desk when she heard Sheila's voice coming from an adjacent office.
'Why must you keep dragging him into our conversations!'
'Because you take such pains to keep him out.' That was Logan. Jennifer hadn't realized he was back in town.
'I've told you Dirk means nothing to me!' Sheila was asserting vehemently.
'Then why can't you discuss him rationally without panicking into hysteria? I get the feeling you're protesting too much.'
'Don't be ridiculous!'
'I'm not the one who's being ridiculous.' Jennifer heard a movement of someone getting out of a chair and then footsteps as Logan paused before continuing. 'I want you to be sure, Shells, very sure. Don't turn him into a ghost that will haunt you for the rest of your life with "what-might-have-been".'
'Can't you take my word for it, that he means nothing to me?' Sheila's voice was strained as if she was holding back tears.
'No, I can't,' Logan replied grimly. 'You're going to have to prove it to me.'
'What more can I say? What more can I do?'
'You can stop avoiding him. If he invites you out, go with him. If what you once felt is really and truly gone, then he'll be out of your system once and for all.'
'I couldn't do that.'
'Do it for me, Sheila.'
'Logan, I…'
Whatever statement Sheila was about to make was muffled, and Jennifer knew instinctively it was because Logan had taken her in his arms. She managed to tiptoe back to the front desk, the pain tearing at her throat as she tried to swallow her sobs. Somehow she was able to tell Carol that Sheila was busy, and that she was going on home, barely making it out the door before the tears started streaming down her cheeks. She was crying not just for herself, but for Logan, too, who was forcing the woman he loved into the company of her former lover so that when she came to him there would be no ghosts to haunt their love.
'Jenny! Jennifer!' a voice called out as she tried to dash past the stocky figure approaching the Lodge. His hand caught and held her arm while she wiped desperately at her tears with her free hand.
'Hey, what's this all about?' Dirk brushed a sparkling tear away.
Jennifer shrugged her shoulders, pressing her lips together to stem the flow of pain from her chest. She inhaled deeply before lifting her head to smile tremulously at him.
'A silly feminine trait, I guess, crying for no reason at all.'
'I've seen that look of misery in your eyes before,' he said wryly, 'when you thought no one else was looking, and your mask slipped out of place,' His arm reached out, encircling her shoulders to draw her comfortably against his side. 'Why don't you tell Uncle Dirk all about it?'
'There's nothing to tell.' Jennifer hoped she had a convincing lilt to her voice.
'Come on now.' Cajoling he squeezed her shoulders. 'You've been depressed ever since your beau from Minnesota left.'
'I suppose I have.'
'I was just going into the Lodge for a sandwich and some soup. If you don't feel like eating, then come and sympathize with me over a cup of coffee,' Dirk insisted firmly.
Jennifer glanced reluctantly towards the Lodge. Logan was there. So what? she told herself defiantly. Was she going to let him rule her life, dictating the places where she could and could not go?
'Sounds good,' she agreed quickly.
He didn't allow her an opportunity to change her mind, but led her directly into the Lodge, through the lobby, and into the café. Once there, he ordered for himself and at the same time directed the waitress to bring Jennifer a small bowl of chili. 'To stoke her furnace,' he told her in an aside. From there on he took charge of the conversation. His banter, lighthearted and removed from any serious discussions, slowly soothed her jangled nerves until Jennifer was able to take part with more of her usual high spirits than she had managed to summon in the past few weeks.
She was laughing easily over an anecdote that Dirk had related to her about an Art Nouveau exhibit, when she found herself looking into Logan's narrowed eyes as he gazed at them from the café entrance. Though her heart leaped to her throat, choking her laughter off momentarily, she managed to turn her now overbright eyes back to Dirk, conscious that every step Logan was taking was bringing him closer to their table.
Polite greetings were exchanged when Logan finally reached them. He declined Dirk's courteous invitation to join them.
'It's quite a coincidence finding the two of you here together,' Logan smiled, but the smile failed to relieve the penetrating harshness of his eyes. 'Sheila and I were just discussing the fact that Jenny hadn't had a chance to see the Grand Tetons. I suggested that next week the four of us make a day of it.'
Dirk's expression was as cynical as Jennifer's, though he agreed quickly to the suggestion. Jennifer stared at the table, silently applauding with bitterness Logan's manipulations that enabled Sheila to be in Dirk's company even if under Logan's chaperonage.
'What do you say, Jenny?' Logan's hardening gaze studied her intently.
She longed to tell him haughtily that the last thing she wanted was to spend a day in his company, as unwelcome fourth at that. But even before her head began to nod her assent, Jennifer knew she would never say it. Like a lamb being led to slaughter, she bowed her head to fate.
'I'll check with the weather bureau to see which day promises to be clear, and let you know.' His smile was sardonic at Jennifer's indifferent agreement.
'You don't seem overjoyed with the suggestion.' Dirk studied her keenly as her haunted eyes followed the retreating figure of Logan Taylor.
What could she say, Jennifer thought—that she didn't like being used as a pawn in one of Logan's calculated moves to capture the queen? No, she
couldn't tell Dirk the real reason behind Logan's invitation. She knew his heart leaped at the idea of spending a day in Sheila's company, whereas her own had taken a nosedive.
'Probably because he was so arrogantly sure we would agree,' she finally replied.
'Which we did.' His expression was thoughtful as he eyed the defiant set of her chin and the rueful gleam in her eyes. 'I wonder if you agreed for the same reason as I did?'
She didn't reply to the question, knowing that Dirk would astutely see through any lie.
'I'm sure we'll have a lovely time.' She sighed instead, fully aware there was a great deal of bitterness and self-pity contained in that sigh.
The brilliance of the mid-morning sun intensified the stark whiteness of the snow as the four walked slowly under the snow-covered, roofed archway towards the log chapel. Its simple wood cross on the roof peak was edged with snow.
The rustic humbleness of the church increased Jennifer's feeling of infinite sanctity, this tiny house of God meekly surrounded by mountain cathedrals.
Logan held the door open as they entered the chapel. The unpretentious wooden floor and log-covered walls with simple log and slat pews modestly welcomed them. No one needed to be reminded that this was a place of worship for all eyes were drawn to the altar. A simple cross of wood stood silhouetted against the altar window, framing the distant Teton peaks, their white spiralling heads against the vividly blue sky. The enveloping awe touched Jennifer with the omnipotence of God as she stared at the glory of God's own work, majestic and incapable of being equalled by man's hands.
It was such a clear reminder of the mightiness of her Creator that Jennifer's eyes smarted with tears at the holiness of the simple chapel. Pictures of all the grandiose churches that had been built as palatial temples of worship suddenly seemed to be overstated. The opulence of those buildings could never match the spiritual peace and tranquillity within these plain wood walls and the ethereal splendour of God's mountains behind the simple wood cross and altar.
