“…about staying with me for a while until you figure out what to do?” he finished for her. “I had Marian, my housekeeper, air a bedroom and put sheets on the bed after I spoke to you.” His voice was so comfortingly placid that she found a measure of calm returning to her. “I had hoped, you see, that you would be calling me back fairly soon, although I never dreamed that it would be this quick. When can I come and pick you up? Will it take you long to pack?”
“I packed last night,” she told him brightly, and then her voice broke. “I had to, you know. Things did get to be too much. You were so right, yesterday. I went up to my room and thought all evening about it and I—I, well, I just have to get out of here!” She stopped altogether and stood blinking rapidly to make the tears go away, appalled at how easily she was losing her composure lately.
“I know. I know. It’s all right, Katie dear. I do understand.” His voice was very calm and extremely soothing, and he spoke in a monotone which made her breathe easier and unclench her fist without really knowing how it happened. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I have to wake Jana—she’s my sister—and let her know what is going on, and it will take me about, say, twenty minutes to drive over. Can you manage until then?”
“Oh, yes,” she assured him quickly. “I think I’ll—write my father a note, just to let him know what I’ve done. Do you think it’s very cowardly of me, to just write a note?”
“Not if that’s what you want to do,” he told her. “If you think it would help to see him and talk to him, and yet you’re too apprehensive to meet him alone, I will be more than happy to see him with you. In fact,” he continued grimly, “it might be for the best, since I can think of a few choice things to say to Farlough, myself.”
“No,” she demurred quickly. “I think we can forgo that encounter. I’ll stick to the note and stay out of the way until you get here, for he is an early riser although this is a bit too early still. Maybe I’ll go down to the stables and contrive to disappear until you come.”
“That might be the best idea,” he agreed, albeit a little reluctantly. “I’ll see you in about half an hour, then. Kate, I’m glad you did decide to call me. You won’t regret it.”
“You must be joking,” she told him succinctly. “I already am regretting it, as well you should know. See you.”
She decided to stay away from the stables after all. It would only bring her heartache, for the little pony, Misty, wouldn’t know any better. He was the only horse that she was attached to. The others were showy, high-spirited animals, good for a tearing gallop across the fields but too bad-tempered and spoiled to be held in any deep affection. A quick trip to the kitchen had her carrying back to her father’s study a steaming cup of coffee, instant, but better than waiting for a percolated cup she wouldn’t have time to drink.
In her father’s large study she headed for the covered typewriter at a desk that his personal secretary used from time to time, and plugged it in. Setting the steaming mug down close by, she was soon embroiled in a difficult letter in which she attempted to convey a sense of independence without rebellion, a detachment without resentment, and a clear refusal to be manipulated without fear. She failed dismally. As she tore the sheet out of the humming typewriter in disgust and ripped it to pieces, two things happened. She heard quite clearly the sound of firm footsteps on the staircase just outside the study door and went into a panic. However, a knock then sounded at the front door quietly, which had the same effect on her as the signal of a hero rescuing a damsel from a dragon’s ire.
She jumped up and turned off the typewriter, while one cool part of her whispered that she was very definitely acting out of character—she’d never acted this foolishly in her life. After rushing to the study door and about to hurry into the hall, something, some quietly whispered word of caution from the same part of her brain, had her stopping just inside the doorway and barely out of sight of the front door. She could hear perfectly the measured footsteps as they continued down the stairs to head, she knew, for the door. A lock was turned, and the door opened wide, and James spoke very civilly, with only a hint of well-bred surprise, “Good gracious, Luke! This is a bit unusual for a social call, don’t you think? Do step in, man, step in! What brings you here, ah, so bright and early?”
A casually amused voice answered him, deep and immensely welcome to her ears. “I might ask you just about the same thing, James, but instead of asking ‘What are you doing here!’ I would ask you ‘What are you doing up?’ Is Katherine around?”
“She’s not exactly in the habit of rising so early,” her father replied, ostensibly still in the same polite tone but with an underlying hint of anger becoming apparent. “What did you need?”
“Your daughter,” said Luke easily. “I’ve come to fetch her.”
“You’ve what?” There were the tiny beginnings of satisfaction in James’s voice; Katherine could tell just what he was thinking. He thought she had planned some outing with Luke after her encounter with him yesterday.
“I said I’ve come to fetch her. She’s leaving home, didn’t she say?” Under his light and easy tone, she thought—she wasn’t sure, but she thought—she could detect a certain thread of hardness in his voice. It was very slight, and much more subtle than James’s own note of anger, but it had her thanking providence that she was not on the receiving end of that speech. “But perhaps she didn’t. Things, I understand, have been a bit…shall we say, unsettled around here? I daresay she forgot.”
“Just what in hell do you mean ‘she’s leaving home’ and ‘she forgot to say’?” James demanded harshly. She stiffened.
“I should think,” replied Luke, “that it is fairly clear. Is she around?”
“You aren’t going to see her this early in the morning,” James stated coldly and precisely. “Now, get out, and come back later when the household is up and so is Katherine, and we’ll straighten out just exactly what is going on!”
“My!” exclaimed Luke with interest. “You’ve certainly changed your tune, Farlough. I thought you wanted nothing more than for me to welcome your beautiful and desirable daughter into my eager arms! Have you changed your mind, perhaps set up a better thought-out plan of action for my demise? Let me know, will you? And I would like to add that I’d prefer to talk to Katherine before you’ve had a chance to see her in private and maybe change her mind.”
“I think,” commented James calmly, after a moment, “that I’m going to kill her for that.”
“I think,” replied Luke gently, and every bit as calmly as he, “not.”
At this, she burst out of the shadowed doorway where she had been lurking and she hurried to the front door in no small state of agitation. Luke was leaning against the doorpost in a position of indolent laziness, his black hair blown about his lean, hard face. He had on a faded pair of jeans, a dark blue roll-neck sweater, and an easy smile, but when she looked up into his dark eyes, she was considerably taken aback at the sight of a dark flame of rage kindled and burning deep within. His arms were folded across his wide chest, and one casually shod foot was kicked across the other.
James, dressed casually for him, was considerably more elegant in expensive slacks and a smoking jacket over a cream sweater. His light hair was brushed immaculately back off his forehead. He also was in a towering rage, she saw, as she stared into those cold, cold eyes. She got the strangest feeling when she looked into James’s eyes. To look into total emptiness… She had never realized just how destructive her father’s comprehension of life really was, and she grasped his amorality for a brief, chilling moment as she stared into a pit devoid of human compassion or understanding. She gasped in shock. She was looking into the pitiless eyes of a serpent.
“Ready, love?” A deep, chocolaty-rich voice broke the spell of James’s viciousness and she turned, considerably startled, to face warm gray eyes, intelligent, amused, caring. As she turned to face Luke fully, though, the look vanished to be replaced with such an expression of fury that she i
nvoluntarily took a step back. It was unlike anything she had seen.
He launched away from the doorpost and swiftly reached her side, taking her chin with gentle fingers, his face masked after that one instant of naked anger. That incredible fury still lurked in his eyes, she found, though, as she looked up. “Who hit you in the face, my dear?” he asked calmly.
Katherine, hating every minute of the unpleasant scene, was shaking rather violently and he must have been able to feel it, for his cool fingers tightened fractionally on her chin. However, a lifetime of acting and a certain amount of pride made her answer very coolly, “It doesn’t matter. Truly. Quite unimportant, Luke, I really mean it, but don’t you think we should be going?”
After studying her for an instant, he answered reflectively, “Yes, I suppose we must. Where are your bags?”
“Katherine, you aren’t going anywhere,” James stated calmly, and yet with an underlying threat that had her blinking and considering that perhaps she shouldn’t go after all. Her eyes reflected their uncertainty. “Dalton, get away from my daughter and get out. Don’t make me use force! This farce has gone on long enough.” He stepped forward and stopped as Luke whirled, a threat implicit in his body movement. The two men faced each other, the older man bulkier and certainly taller, and powerful in spite of his additional years. Katherine took several steps back as she looked apprehensively from one man to the other. Luke, after his swift turn about, stood easily with hands on hips and feet a little apart. He appeared relaxed even though he stood on the balls of his feet, ready for any event. In his eyes it was possible to see a touch of anticipation and—was it by any chance eagerness? Looking from one to the other, she couldn’t say why, but Katherine began to relax. She would lay odds on Luke, any day.
“Get your bags, Katie,” said Luke pleasantly, without looking about. “I’ll, er, keep James company down here.”
Taking another peep at her father’s by now thunderous face, she spun on her heel and fled.
Careering out on to the landing with her bags and scrambling down the stairs, she was vaguely surprised—and secretly disappointed—to see both men still standing, in fact in the same positions that they had occupied when she had so hastily left. She stopped, heaving a bit, just behind Luke’s shoulder, and was immediately struck by the fact that she had done so very naturally.
“All set?” asked Luke lightly, not looking around. She uttered an affirmative, and he continued, “Well, I’ll say this for you, sweetheart, you’re quick. Go and get into the car like a good girl. I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Oh, but I’d rather—” began Katherine, and was cut short by one quietly spoken word.
“Go,” he said, and she took a hesitant look around his broad shoulder at the murderous look on James’s face. She inched for the door.
“I suppose that you won’t be needing anything else but what you have, darling?” James said suddenly, causing her to look at him in puzzlement. “I can get rid of anything else?” His eyes watched her cruelly, mockingly. “After all, your possessions mean nothing to me…” What was his threat? she asked herself, frightened. I can’t figure out his threat. “…and, of course, Misty is too old to be of any use to anyone, isn’t he?”
Her face blanched and after a minute, she closed her eyes, sickened. James watched her tortured face, and he smiled. Unaware of anything outside her own pain, not even aware of Luke, she turned again to the door and started to walk stiffly toward it, her head bent and her eyes blurred. Each step was a death sentence to a little pony who deserved nothing less than a peaceful retirement under the shade of an apple tree and lazy afternoons filled with wordless dreams.
“So, when you leave…” James continued, and she forced herself on.”…I’ll just make a—clean sweep, so to speak.” She opened the door and hesitated. She very nearly couldn’t stand it. She very nearly gave in and turned back. “Misty shouldn’t feel much. I should think it would be just a twinge, when the vet gives him his shot…” She teetered on the brink of surrender and stepped back. James would only inflict more pain on her, and Misty had lived a good life. With a great effort, she stepped out of her father’s house, across the threshold. She shut the door gently behind her and slowly, dully, climbed into Luke’s car after depositing her bags in the back. She waited.
After a few minutes, Luke came out, and he slid into the sports car. He looked at her searchingly, and after a quick glance at him that revealed hair a bit more ruffled than before and the knuckles on his big right hand reddened, she turned and stared straight ahead silently. “All right?” he asked carefully, starting the car and easing into the drive.
“Perfect,” she stated, and promptly burst into tears. He let her cry without interference, and only occasionally shot her searching and concerned glances. They made the drive to his house in near silence. After a bit, she was able to contain herself to just a few odd tears that slid down her face from time to time as she dully looked out of the window at the passing gray world.
When he pulled into a large driveway that formed a huge sweep in front of a charming brick colonial house, she was able to look about her with a semblance of interest. He swung round and parked in front of the white-painted doors and turned to her with a wry smile.
“I left Jana in a pleasant dither,” he told her, amused. “She told me to bring you straight home and not even attempt to offer you breakfast out since she had every intention of fixing you something here! I hope you like her, Kate,” he continued a bit diffidently for him. “She so loves company, and she gets so little that she’s likely to smother you with attention! She is, I believe, eccentric.”
This easy talk had her looking at him, first with a deal of genuine interest and later with some amusement. “She sounds like a character,” Katherine said, delighted. “Why do you say that she’s eccentric?”
“Well, she loves lame ducks and stray dogs and lost kittens,” he replied, grinning. “We usually have no fewer than a half a dozen grouped around our back porch with hopeful expressions on their various furry faces! She also runs around in either wild caftans or ominous black, depending on the impression she wishes to portray. It will be interesting to see what she is wearing this morning in honor of your arrival! She has the most lovely black hair with touches of gray at the temples that she laments at any opportunity, and very blue eyes that twinkle at the slightest provocation! She is apt to play either loud rock music or impressive classical at earth-shaking volumes and at very shocking times of the day! In short, my dear, Jana is extremely happy and always herself, no matter who that might be at the time!”
“Oh dear,” she murmured faintly. “I do so hope that she doesn’t choose black for this morning! I’m quite sure that I would be deflated at that message! Do you think she will dislike me? That would be terribly awkward.”
“Of course she won’t,” he assured her with a wide grin which displayed his even, white teeth. “She always likes the people that I do.”
She was at a loss as to how to reply to this and finally murmured, “Thank you. Is my face very smudged?” This last was asked anxiously. “I feel like I have gritty sand in my eyes; they burn quite painfully.”
He studied the pale and tired face speculatively. “I expect it is because you haven’t had very much sleep and then topped it off by crying,” he said. “Your eyes do look a bit red, and you look very tired, and of course that bruise doesn’t help matters very much. In fact, you look a bit like a little stray cat that I picked up off the streets. I dare say that Jana will fall in love with you at once, and stop rubbing that eye, you’re only making it worse! You know,” he added reflectively, “I can’t figure out how it is that you can look at once so very haggard, and yet at the same time quite beautiful too. I suspect that it is the effect of those incredible eyes!” He smiled at her so sweetly that she forgot her burning eyes and her general misery enough to smile back, as sweetly, to him. “Come on!” he commanded, suddenly brisk. “Let’s go and see what crazy caftan Jana’s got
on today!”
And with that, they both climbed out of the car, Luke doing so quickly and Katherine more hesitantly. He came round the car to put one reassuring arm about her shoulder as he led her up the wide steps and across the spacious porch to the door. He opened it and ushered her in without ceremony, closing the door behind and calling out, “Jana, Jana, you abominable sister, where are you? I’ve brought Kate here!”
A small head poked from a doorway down the hall. “You needn’t roar.” The stern admonishment was administered with an amused, light voice. A delicately boned and slim body followed the little head and Katherine stared into lovely blue eyes that danced up at her. “And this is Katherine!” the small woman exclaimed with every sign of satisfaction. She ran a swift and careless hand through a cloud of lovely, long, dark hair, streaked with gray. Her eyes suddenly sharpened at the sight of Katherine’s bruise, and she sent a very piercing look at Luke as she scolded him lightly for taking much longer than he had promised. She received a negative shake of the head from him in reply which Katherine didn’t see as he was standing behind her. She continued gaily, “I wanted so badly to put on black this morning, love, since it is so dismal and dull outside, but I thought instead that I’d put on a bit of color for your arrival! Now, Luke, go and get her bags, and I’ll show you where your room is, all right?”
Katherine smiled slightly at this and nodded. The older woman tucked her arm through hers with such a childishly confiding air that she was quite disarmed, and soon was chuckling at Jana’s nonsensical and wholly good-natured teasing. They made their way to the second floor where Jana led her to the first room on the left with the door ajar.
Entering the room, Katherine was pleasantly surprised to find a very comfortable decor. It was not a particularly large room—in fact it was much smaller than she was used to—but it was quite charming with various rugs on a polished wood floor and a huge double-poster bed, canopied and draped with a brightly printed quilt. There were two doors, one leading she found to a tiny private bathroom, and the other being the wardrobe. An antique desk stood daintily just in front of a frilly-curtained window. Jana was watching her look about with pleasure, her own kind eyes smiling, and then said with a brisk friendliness, “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes to get acquainted with the room! I’m sure that Luke will be up in a moment with your bags—please, let me know if Marian has forgotten anything trifling, like the towels for the bathroom, or sheets for the bed. She is hopelessly forgetful…” Still chattering laughingly, Jana floated out of the room with a quick wave of the hand.
The Gift of Happiness Page 6
