"Fanny! What are you doing here so early in the morning?"
"Mr. Rollins isn't in yet and the door is locked. I'll have a cup of coffee and some toast. I decided to stay on here for a while, Bess. My father told me on Saturday that my two brothers enlisted. I'm going to buy war bonds with my money. The next time they have a bond rally, I'm going to offer my serices."
''Every litde bit helps. My mother and father talk about the war all night long. They sit glued to the radio. Hey, I think I just saw Ash Thornton walk by. I heard Dad say he was an ace or going to be an ace, something like that. What that means, Fanny, is he's a crackerjack pilot. He's killed a lot ofjaps. Wonder what he's doing home."
''Where?" Fanny asked as she stretched her neck for a look.
"He walked by. You missed him. You should have seen him on the football field. He went to a different school, .so I could only worship him from afar. All the girls were crazy about him. He has a younger brother named Simon, who is one of those whiz kids, per-
feet scores in everything, real studious, plus he skipped two or three years of school. He's every bit as good-looking as his brother, but in a different way. I heard they both joined up. Ash's name is always in the paper, but not Simon's. He probably got himself stuck somewhere behind a desk."
"I didn't know Mrs. Thornton had children," Fanny said.
"My mother says Mrs. Thornton is a very private person. She always has a funny look on her face when she talks about her. My dad always butts in and says, 'now, Myrtie, I don't want you gossiping about Mrs. Thornton, she's brought this town alive.' Then my mother sort of sniffs, and that's the end of the conversation." Bess leaned across the counter and whispered, "I think she was racy when she was younger."
"I guess I better get back to the ofEce. Mr. Rollins seems so professional. I can't believe he didn't tell me he was going to be late. If he isn't there, I guess I'll go home and twiddle my fmgers? What's for lunch?"
"Ham salad with sweet relish. The customers like it." Bess laughed.
"Maybe I'll stop back if I get bored."
Bess grimaced. "I'll be here. By the way we're having a sale on Ipana toothpaste in case you're interested. Dad got carried away because the salesperson was a woman, and she flirted with him. All the salespeople are women these days."
"I didn't know that," Fanny muttered on her way out.
Devin Rollins's office was still closed and locked. Fanny tore a page from a small notebook she carried in her purse, wrote a note, and slipped it under the door. The packet of money in her purse stared up at her. Well, she was going to take care of that right now.
After she bought the bonds, Fanny returned to the boarding-house and was told there was a message for her. Her heart skipped a beat as she reached for the short note, certain it was from Jake or his friends. It wasn't—it was from Devin Rollins. The note was brief
The office will be closed until Wednesday.
What to do? What did she do in Shamrock when chores and schoolwork were finished? She read. Shrugging, Fanny brushed her
198 Fern Michaels
teeth and washed her hands. She'd ask the landlady where the K-brary was. She could read back issues of the newspapers, find out more than what she'd read over the weekend. She could take out a library card, and, if she was lucky, there might be a new mystery novel on the shelves.
It was a long walk, and she longed for a cool drink by the time she approached the wide double doors of the brick Hbrary. Inside it was cool, fans placed strategically all about the two-room building.
Three hours later, her eyes aching, Fanny checked out two books with her new library card. Now she could go to the drugstore and get a cherry phosphate.
Head down, her thoughts on her thirst, Fanny walked straight into a tall young man who wasn't nimble enough to step out of her way. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault, I was . . . my mind . . . I'm very sorry." She looked up at the handsomest man she'd ever seen. And he was laughing. At her.
Fanny backed up a step as the young man's arms stretched out to grasp her shoulders. "Steady there. Are you okay?"
She saw everything about him in one brief moment. He was as tall as her brother Daniel, which meant he was over six feet. Blue eyes were laughing at her. Impatiendy, he brushed at the unruly curls crowning the top of his head. She knew he preferred wearing his cap because it flattened out the curls. "Are you sure you're okay? Your head hit me right in the chest, felt it. If I felt it, then so did you." His grin was infectious. It was also wicked.
"I'm fme. It was my fault, and I'm sorry."
"I accept your apology." He held the door for her.
Flustered with his gallant gesture, Fanny tripped over her own feet as she walked through the door of the drugstore. He reached out again and caught her, his face full of pain as he did so.
"Oh, I can't believe how clumsy I am today. I'm sorry. You look . . .you look like you're in pain. What happened? I'm sorry." She was babbling like a schoolgirl.
"Nothing's wrong. I just reached for you with the wrong arm. I've had some trouble with my shoulder. No harm done."
She supposed she should say something. What? She smiled nervously and backed out of the door. "Thank you, and I am sorry. I hope your shoulder improves."
Her tongue thick in her mouth, Fanny took her seat on a red stool at the counter. "Quick, Bess, two really cold cherry phosphates. I might even want a third," Fanny gasped.
"My, God, Fanny, what's wrong? Your face is as pink as this ham salad. Don't drink it so fast, you'll get sick."
"I walked all the way to the library and back. Then I bumped into this ... the handsomest guy I've ever seen. Then I bumped into him a second time. He was so . . . so . . . Bess, he had the wickedest grin. I got so flustered I couldn't even talk. I acted like I was thirteen. That's why my face is so red. I don't know what branch of service he's in, but he had lieutenant's bars on his collar."
"Did you introduce yourself?"
"I did not. He didn't ask," Fanny said, dovming the second cherry phosphate.
"If he had, would you have told him your name?"
"In a heartbeat."
"Want a cigarette?" Bess asked.
"Why not?" Fanny said airily.
"Don't inhale. You have to practice doing that in private, or you'll cough your head off. Let me sneak a couple of puffs. My dad isn't looking, is he?"
"Can't see him," Fanny said. Bess sneaked two quick puffs, blowing perfect smoke rings.
"Imagine that," Fanny said.
"Don't forget your Ipana. Do you want to go to the movies with me and Ted tonight?"
"Sure. What's playing?"
"For Whom the Bell Tolls with Gary Cooper. We'll stop by at seven. The movie starts at seven-thirty. Do you want me to ask Ted to get you a date? He knows lots of nice guys."
"Why aren't they in the service?" Fanny snapped.
"Ted has very bad eyesight," Bess said defensively. "I don't know why Mike and Joe haven't joined up. Ted says they talk about it all the time. Maybe they're scared. If I was a guy, I'd be scared. Maybe their parents don't want them to go. Does that mean you don't want a date?"
"I don't want a date. Two's company, three's a crowd. Are you sure you want me to go?"
"Sure. I want you to meet Ted. Don't forget your Ipana. Fanny, I have a favor to ask you. Would you mind going to town hall and getting a ration book? With you staying at the boardinghouse, you don't need it. My mother sure could use some extra coupons. I'm sure she'll pay you for them."
"That's dishonest, Bess. Think about what you just asked me to
200 Fern Michaels
do, and if you still think it's all right, ask me again this evening. We're at war! Think about that. Everyone has to sacrifice. That means me, you, and your mother."
Fanny smiled in the darkness when she saw Ted reach for Bess's hand. She felt out of place and debated leaving. She wasn't a Gary Cooper fan the way Bess was. She wondered if she would ever hold hands with a young man in a movie.
She slimiped in her seat, her thoughts everywhere but on the movie. She thought about her boss and Mrs. Thornton. Was their relationship really an affair? Did other people know? What about Mr. Thornton? Did Af know? Las Vegas wasn't that big. Surely people gossiped here the same way they did back in Shamrock. Even if they were discreet, she'd picked up on it. It was also suspicious that both of them were out of town at the same time. It was none of her business. She tried to push the thoughts away.
Fanny leaned over and whispered. "I've had enough of this movie, I'm going home. You two stay. It's a nice evening, and I'll enjoy the walk."
She walked steadily, her arms swinging back and forth as she stared at the few hardy souls brave enough to take their autos out, using up precious gasoline. Most people were on foot, either in small groups of three or four or couples. She appeared to be the only single person walking. She felt self-conscious as she stood behind a group of chattering girls waiting for the traffic light to change.
The convertible, the ragtop neatly stowed in the back, squealed to a last-minute stop. The couple laughed as both were jolted forward. Even from where she was standing, Fanny could see the woman's breasts spilling out of a tight satin dress. Her hair was bleached, dark at the roots. The streedight C2ist both occupants of the car in devilish yellow light that was both revealing and insulting. She wanted to look away, but her eyes were glued to the young man with the lieutenant's bars on his collar. Their eyes locked momentarily. Caught off guard, Fanny inclined her head sUghdy in recognidon. The lieutenant grinned sheepishly.
The light changed and the convertible surged ahead. Fanny stared after it, aware that the driver was staring at her through the reairview mirror. Where were they going? What were they going to do? She
wished she knew. In her mind she played out a dozen different scenarios.
The cup of tea and the Agatha Christie novel she'd checked out of the library held no appeal for her now. Maybe she'd sit on the front porch and count the stars.
Fanny stopped rocking long enough to contemplate her blue-and-white-checkered playsuit and white sandals. As a woman of the world, she was a complete fizzle. She cringed when she remembered the day Mrs. Kelly told her she looked wholesome. She didn't want to look like a fresh apple or peach or the girl next door. She wanted to look like . . . like . . . Sallie Thornton. They both had the same kind of honey blond hair, the same color eyes, the same lithe figures. Why couldn't she pattern herself after the gorgeous woman? Mrs. Thornton wore makeup, but it was so skillfully applied, it didn't look like she was wearing any at all.
"Fanny, all the guests are in for the evening. If you're going to stay out here, will you lock up when you come in? There's some coffee left if you want some," the landlady said, poking her head out the door.
"No thanks. I'll lock up. Good night, Mrs. Hershey."
Fanny propped her feet up on the banister, tilting back in the rocking chair. Her mind raced. She had good clothes, plain clothes, Shamrock clothes. Wholesome clothes. In her Home Economics class she'd learned a thing or two about fashion. Two good dresses were all any woman needed in Shamrock. Quality material, styles that never went out of fashion. And then you added to the dress with a scarf, a belt, or jewelry, or different dickies. Here, it was different. She needed a new hairstyle too.
Obviously, a metamorphosis was called for. She had the money, she could do it tomorrow. She'd kept two hundred dollars from her winnings at the Silver Dollar, and she still had most of the money Mr. Rollins paid her. She'd hardly touched the money she'd brought with her from Shamrock. Just today, she'd paid a month's room and board.
It was time to go to bed and dream about the new improved version of Fanny Logan. It was better than going to Ded to dream about the lieutenant and the voluptuous-looking young woman sitting next to him.
202 Fern Michaels
Ash Thornton paced the floor. Someone in this damn town must know where his father was. He'd already called everyone he could think of. The only person he hadn't spoken to was Red Ruby, and there was no way he would disgrace the uniform he wore by going into a brothel. He dressed in civihan clothes and walked there, only to find out Red's ricky-ticky building had been demolished. With everyone in town knowing him and his family, he was afraid to make outright inquiries. The information operator had informed him there was no personal listing for Red.
Twelve hours remaining on his R & R.
Who was that girl with the golden hair?
Maybe he could find her.
He cruised, the way he'd done when he was on leave in a foreign port. Sunglasses secure, his cap at a jaunty angle, he stopped on every corner, searching for a glimpse of the girl he'd bumped into outside the drugstore. Ninety minutes into his search, he realized he was getting nowhere. He parked the car and walked into Ronzone's department store. He described Fanny with such detail, the motherly-looking saleswoman smiled.
"I think you mean Miss Logan. I can tell you where to find her."
"You know her!"
"Not personally, but she did some shopping here this morning, then she was going to the beauty parlor. She told me she was going to cut that long hair of hers. I don't think she's been in town very long. She did tell me she's from Pennsylvania. Fll write down the address for you."
Ash took a deep breath. For some reason he felt like he'd just soared to 15,000 feet and he had the sky to himself His feet barely touched the ground when he left the department store. He was so high on anticipation he barely noticed the two girls across the street as they walked along, their arms linked. He heard them laughing and was curious enough to stare after them. One with curly red hair, one with short blond hair. Not the golden haired girl he sought.
Ash jumped into his convertible, waited for a break in traffic, executed a wide, sloppy U-turn, and roared down the street, tires squealing.
Both girls turned to stare at the rear of the car.
"That's him! That's the guy I was telling you about," Fanny said excitedly.
"I wonder if he flies as fast as he drives."
"If he does, you're in for a hell of a ride, Fanny Logan. That guy is gonna find you. I feel it here," Bess said, thumping her chest. "I should be so lucky." "You'll see. I'm hardly ever wrong."
Ash felt like a fool. How long was he going to sit on this damn front porch to wait for a girl he didn't even know? He'd already waited two hours, with the landlady taking pity on him by giving him two botdes of soda pop. He only had a few hours left on his R & R. He had to go home, garage the car, shower, shave, pack his gear, eat and.. . stop by the Silver Dollar one more time before he headed for NeUis to hitch his ride.
Ash opened the screen door and shouted, "I'm leaving now. Thanks for the soda pop."
The landlady waddled down the hall. "Would vou like to leave Miss Logan a message? I can't imagine what happened to her. If she isn't going to be here for supper, she calls, and I keep her supper warm in the oven. This isn't like her."
"No message."
"Are you sure, Lieutenant?"
Ash nodded as he backed his way down the steps. What would be the point in leaving a message? She didn't know who he was. He groaned when he remembered the look on her face the evening before when he'd pulled alongside her to stop for a trafiic light. For the life of him he couldn't remember the name of the woman he'd been with. He did remember the musty-smelling sheets and the grimy bathroom and makeup smeared on the mirror. He'd seen bathrooms in gas stations that were cleaner.
Rage, unlike anything he'd ever experienced, rivered through Ash. What the hell kind of R & R was this? You defend your country, you get wounded by some yellow Jap bastard, you get leave and what happens? No family, no friends, so what do you do? Not a goddamn thing. He'd pissed away almost a whole week and there wasn't one memorable thing about it. Except maybe seeing the golden-haired girl.
Ash garaged the car that was almost empty of gas, stomped into the house and up the steps to his room, stripped off his clothes, and headed for the shower.
The
shower did nothing to abate his anger. Still cursing, the wet
204 Fern Michaels
towel wrapped around his midsection, he flopped back on the bed. Within minutes he was sound asleep. When he woke, he had four hours left on his R & R. He used up forty minutes shaving, dressing, and packing. The taxi ride, his-dinner at the Golden Slipper, ate up another hour and fifteen minutes. Ke had two hours left.
"Driver, take me to the Silver Dollar. I want you to wait for me, okay? I'll leave my bags in the car if that's okay."
"Sure, Lieutenant. Where do you want to go?"
"Nellis. Thirty minutes, right?"
"Nah, I can get you there in twenty. How much time do you have?"
Ash looked at his watch. "Ninety minutes."
"Get your ass in there and win big, son. Two girls won a thousand dollars each last week. Maybe Lady Luck vdll smile on you tonight. You'll get a fair shake at the Silver Dollar. I think it's the only honest casino arov.nd here. The owner is one sweet lady. She's done her bit for the war effort, I can tell you that."
"That's nice to know. Twenty minutes, huh?"
"On the nose. Lieutenant."
"I'll be here."
It was rare for Ash not ro acknowledge the admiring glances he received by a roguish w^nk or a flip of his hand. Tonight, he walked like a man with a mission, to the upstairs offices. "Have you heard from my mother, Zack?"
"About thirty minutes ago. She's on her way home as we speak. She said to hogtie you and not to let you get away. Here's the number where you can reach your father. I already called it, he's on his way, too."
"I only have," Ash looked at his watch, "eighty minutes. I'm going downstairs. I need a drink. I'll be on the floor. I won't be too hard to find."
"All right, Ash."
Ash strolled the room. He shot craps for fifteen minutes and managed to lose thirty dollars. He played two hands of poker and lost another fifty. He switched to the thousand-dollar slot machines and dropped another twenty l^ucks. His R & R was down to forty minutes.
Vegas rich Page 24
