by Vella Munn
“Through the Interior Department. I’ve been pushing for some funds from the Fish and Wildlife Service. Hunting interests are exerting pressure to reduce the grizzly population in Alaska in order to protect moose for hunters. The director of McKinley Park and I have been working on the Interior Department together.”
Calley was exhausted. In the morning she’d have the energy to speak in opposition to hunting interests, but tonight she didn’t want to think about anything more complicated than when, if ever, she’d have dinner. When Dean would kiss her again.
“I’ll have to buy some clothes.”
“For what?” Obviously Dean hadn’t kept up with the turn of thought her mind had taken.
“For Melinda’s wedding. She wants me to be her maid of honor. I don’t think I own a dress.”
Dean shifted his weight. When he settled back against the seat, his arm was around her. “Of course you have a dress. Every woman has a dress.”
“I guess.” Calley sighed. The conversation was too complicated. Concentrating on the welcome weight of Dean’s arm on her shoulder was the only thing she was interested in.
Dean didn’t speak for the better part of a minute. “Are you falling asleep?”
“No.” She wasn’t sure that was true.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s something I want to tell you.”
Calley was instantly awake, although she did nothing to let him know. “You aren’t going to try to sell me a subscription to anything, are you?” she teased. She didn’t want the topic to be serious.
“You’re a remarkable woman. I just wanted you to know that.”
Calley kept her eyes shut. She forgave him his moods, the moods he’d put her through. His words found their way deep inside her, touching her heart. “Why do you say that?” she had to ask.
“Because you’re solid. Strong.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” she said, although she would rather remain silent, tracing the effect his tone of voice was having on her emotions. Darling, he’d called her. She would remember that moment for the rest of her life.
“It’s a compliment, Calley. There aren’t many women who could have handled today as well as you did.”
Calley sighed. The conversation was going to be serious. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she admitted. “Farm life taught me that everyone has to stand on their own two feet. I had the lesson reinforced in spades this past year. Being strong, as you call it, got me through a lot.”
“I’d like to have you tell me about it sometime.”
“Sometime,” Calley repeated. But not now. Tonight was for listening to the beating of Dean’s heart, her head moving in response to his quiet breathing. Later she’d tell him about her parents and Mike and wondering if her world was caving in around her. Later she’d ask him why he’d suddenly turned cold earlier when she thought they were reaching a new closeness. But not tonight.
Chapter Eight
The gown wasn’t Calley’s first choice, but because the tight bandage would have to remain around her ribs for another week, she’d had to settle for something that would float over her body instead of cling. The pale yellow crepe was the perfect foil for her permanent tan. Because of her tan, she was able to carry off the combination of amber hair and a dress with just a whisper of color. For once Calley had actually gone to a beauty shop to have her hair done. It now caressed her cheeks before sliding gracefully down her neck. Between giggles and a few false starts, both Calley and Melinda had managed the subtle changes that makeup made on faces used to the natural look. Even Calley was impressed by what a little smoky color could do to bring out the gray in her eyes.
Now Calley was watching her best friend nervously finger the short veil that served to accent Melinda’s larger than usual eyes. “Why did I agree to go through with this?” Melinda moaned for the third time. “I don’t want to stand in front of everyone. What if I forget what I’m supposed to say?”
“Come off it,” Calley teased. “You know you’ve been dying for a chance to hold center stage. If Kirk can deck himself out in an honest-to-goodness suit, the least you can do is show up without jeans.”
“Yeah.” Cautiously Melinda nodded her head. She ran her hands down the smooth white taffeta that skimmed over her hips and ended in layers of lace flounce at the floor-length hemline. “I feel like a princess. In fact, I might take to wearing a little makeup on a regular basis. But why did Kirk tell all the graduate students they could show up for free chow? There’s going to be more than fifty people out there listening to me mess up my words.”
Calley sighed. Even though she kept telling herself she had to be calm so Melinda would have someone to lean on, Melinda’s nervousness was infecting her. “You aren’t going to mess up anything,” she tried to reassure her as she straightened the puffed sheer sleeves on Melinda’s gown. “We practiced last night, didn’t we? Besides, if the wind’s blowing, probably no one will be able to hear you.”
Melinda smiled for the first time since Calley had come over to Melinda’s apartment. “The weather is cooperating. I’m so glad we’re going to be able to have the wedding outside. I’ll have to thank Dean for getting the powers that be to agree to let us have this show on the university grounds.”
“You already thanked him last night,” Calley reminded Melinda. “At least two times. All right, let’s see if we have everything. You won’t be gone long enough that we’ll have to worry about your plants needing to be watered. Darn. I wish the two of you had time for a real honeymoon.”
Melinda winked. “We’ve been practicing. I think we have the idea.”
Calley winked back. “I get your drift. Okay, keys, something to change into after the reception, Kirk’s ring?”
Melinda reminded her that she, Calley, was carrying Kirk’s ring, and then the two women got into Calley’s jeep for the short drive to the campus. They drew several surprised looks as they drove through town in their finery. Calley tried to point out to Melinda that she’d washed the jeep and that there was a clean blanket on the front seat, but when a couple of little girls at a street corner started clapping, Melinda got the giggles.
By the time they reached the campus parking lot, both women were relaxed and eager to get the show on the road. Because Dean had been called into service to make sure the parklike area they’d selected was properly set up, Calley hadn’t seen him since the rehearsal dinner the previous night. Calley glanced at her image in the jeep’s mirror one last time before getting out. Not bad. Maybe Dean would sit up and take notice. He’d been buried under paperwork since their return to the campus two weeks ago. Except for going out for dinner several times and work-oriented meetings, they hadn’t been together.
Of course, the phone calls had been nice, Calley admitted. Every night promptly at 7:00 p.m., Dean had called to ask how she was feeling, catch her up on his day and see how she was coming along with compiling the data they’d collected on the Flathead. But work wouldn’t be getting in the way today. It was fantasy time; romance would surround them.
What, if anything, might come from today was what made Calley hurry Melinda along. “You look fine,” Calley said as Melinda tried to check her lipstick in the rear-view mirror. “Seeing you in a dress is such a contrast to your usual attire that everyone will be impressed.”
Melinda grabbed Calley’s hand with cold fingers. “Look who’s talking. You’re the one who said she didn’t own a dress.”
“I didn’t. I had to buy this one. Did I tell you I’m sending the bill to you?”
Melinda’s protest and Calley’s mock argument kept them from getting too nervous until they reached the quiet parklike area chosen for the outdoor wedding. Melinda and Calley slipped into the nearest building and waited until they were informed it was time to make an entrance. Melinda’s hand, clutching Calley’s, was still icy, but the smile that lit up her face when she caught sight of Kirk waiting for her reassured Calley
that her friend wasn’t going to back out at the last moment.
Calley took her place near the profusion of roses held in place by a white trellis and watched Melinda glide along the packed granite trail to where Calley, the minister and Kirk’s best friend waited. Melinda’s eyes were soft with wonder as she turned toward the man who was about to become her husband. As Melinda began her vows under a cloudless Montana sky, Calley made her decision. If she ever got married, it would be out-of-doors.
It wasn’t until the happy couple was receiving the good wishes of their friends on the newly mowed lawn where the reception would be held that Calley looked around for Dean. It wasn’t hard to spot him. Despite the beard and thick, almost shaggy hair that was his trademark, he looked very much the modern sophisticate in his dark suit. He looked, Calley decided in the instant it took for his smile to reach her, as intriguing as the first time she’d seen him.
“What if I get you some champagne?” Dean offered as he gently circled her waist with his arm. “You looked as if you were really wrapped up in what they were saying during the ceremony.”
“Did I?” Calley asked dreamily. “I’m kind of relieved that it’s over.”
“Don’t you like weddings?”
“I don’t like knowing fifty people are going to see if I faint. Does that sound conceited?” She laughed. “They’re watching Melinda and Kirk, not me.”
Dean held her close against his side. “You’re not used to being part of the show. Don’t worry. You’re beautiful. I really like what you did to your hair.”
“Thank you,” Calley whispered. “You couldn’t tell I was trussed up? This fabric’s pretty thin.”
Dean turned her toward him. Gently, he ran his hands over her shoulders, lightly lifting the fabric of her dress. “It isn’t thin enough for me,” he whispered before kissing her. “I couldn’t believe you were the same woman who beat me at fishing. You looked as if you could float off into the sky.”
Calley melted. It was such a beautiful thing to say. His words held so much promise. Dean had kept her at arm’s length while she was recovering from her accident, but he was telling her that that time was coming to an end. She wondered if he had any idea how hard the waiting had been. She tried to push back so she could look at him, but with his hands on her she lacked the strength. There were too many layers covering him today. She didn’t want to feel the crisp suit. She wanted him naked from the waist up, the way he’d been that first day on the Flathead. She wanted things she didn’t have words for.
“How long is this reception going to last?” Dean whispered. He hadn’t given any indication that he was ever going to let her go.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Because I want to be alone with you.”
“Oh.” It was a stupid response, but it was the most Calley was capable of. His warmth, his sexuality, was reaching her through his suit. She felt weaker than she had when she’d broken her rib.
“You’re beautiful.”
“I think you said that before,” she managed to say.
“I’m saying it again.” Dean ran his lips across her forehead. “You look so feminine today; I can’t get used to it. I’m not sure I ever want to see you in jeans again. I didn’t know you had legs.”
Calley could only laugh. “I hate panty hose. They feel like I’ve glued something on my skin.”
“I can take them off for you, you know.”
“Dean!” Calley wasn’t really shocked, just shaken because his thoughts were dovetailing with hers. They were communicating without words. Her rib had gotten in the way of so much in the past two weeks, but the doctor had told her it was healing nicely and she could experiment with removing the wrap for short periods of time. She didn’t need to curtail her activities anymore. What that might mean in the terms of her relationship with Dean was going to be explored later today. That was what didn’t need to be said.
Calley met Melinda’s parents and Kirk’s mother. She sobered when Kirk explained that his parents had divorced when he was a child and he had very little contact with his father. She tried to throw off the impact of what Kirk had said by sampling from the laden table set on a level part of the lawn, but the quiet whispering memory of her past year refused to fade.
“Personal relationships are so complicated, aren’t they?” she asked Dean as they shared a glass of champagne. “When I think of how much Kirk’s father has missed—He should be here today.”
Dean stopped her with a kiss that reached her toes. “You can’t make the world turn out the way you want it to, Calley,” he whispered. “We can’t live other people’s lives for them.”
“I know.” Calley couldn’t bring her eyes up to meet Dean’s. She was so aware of him it was almost frightening. It was all she could do to keep her fingers wrapped around her glass. “How I know!”
Dean tilted her chin upward until there was no hiding from the question in his eyes. “This mood of yours has to do with what you’ve been through recently, doesn’t it?”
Calley nodded but gave him no answers. “Not now,” she managed to say. “I want to be happy for Melinda.”
Dean relaxed his hold on her. “Then later,” he said softly.
Later. The word had never held so much potency before. Calley went through the rest of the reception in a fog. She spoke briefly with several people who were interested in what they’d been doing on the Flathead and a couple of professors who remembered when she worked for Mike, but her mind was on what she was going to tell Dean when they were alone. She was a little nervous, because she knew how much emotion was involved in the story, but she had no desire to put it off. Dean wasn’t just the man she worked for; he was the only man who had a right to see her emotions.
An hour after the wedding, the group began to break up. Melinda gave Calley the name of the motel where she and Kirk would be staying and asked if Calley would make sure there were some groceries in the refrigerator for their return. After a hug and tears that acknowledged the new direction Melinda’s life was taking, they were off.
“I think this is going to be one marriage that works,” Dean observed as he steered Calley toward his truck. “Those two seem to understand that they can’t live in each other’s pockets. They love each other, but there isn’t going to be any smothering.”
Calley agreed. “Kirk was the one to suggest that Melinda keep her own name,” she explained. “Melinda established herself in her career before they were married. He doesn’t want her to lose that identity.”
Dean frowned and then shrugged. “I have a problem with that,” he admitted. “I think a couple should have the same name. It’s a sign of commitment to each other.”
“Maybe.” Calley slid into the truck and straightened her skirt. “But it takes more than the same name to make a marriage.”
Dean squeezed Calley’s hand. “Where to, milady?”
Her place? His? It didn’t matter. “You decide.”
Dean drove to the house on the outskirts of town that he’d leased when he first came to the university. As he’d explained to Calley, he could afford better, but because he didn’t expect to be spending much time in Missoula, he couldn’t see putting much money into four walls. As he unlocked the front door he was telling her about the continued contact he’d had with the Mount McKinley Park personnel.
“If we do go to Alaska, it won’t be for several more weeks,” he explained. “At least that’s what they’re saying now. And I don’t know how long we’ll be there. It depends on how receptive certain people are to some of the suggestions I want to make. The director’s in my camp, but he doesn’t run the whole show.”
Calley nodded, but she wasn’t really concentrating on what he was saying. She’d told Dean that he needed to make his house less of an office/storage room and more of a home, but obviously she hadn’t gotten through to him. “I suppose the tent’s still in the spare bedroom.”
“I was going to repack it this weekend,” Dean explained. “I did mend the tea
r near the flap.”
“Good for you.” Calley ran out of things to say. They’d been rushed for time or she’d been “off limits” because of her injury every time they’d been here in the past two weeks. Suddenly, it seemed, they had all the time in the world.
“You’re feeling all right now?” Dean asked. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and threw it in the direction of the couch.
“All right,” she echoed. “The doctor said that as long as I didn’t jump on a trampoline, the bone would stay in place.”
“I’m glad.” Dean yanked on his tie. He ran a finger under his collar and stretched his neck. “That’s enough of that monkey suit. Sit down, Calley.”
She sat on the couch next to his suit jacket. She thought about crossing her legs, but the gesture seemed artificial. Instead, she slowly ran her hands over her knees, trying to get used to the feel of having them covered by hose. “No runs.” She smiled, indicating her stockings. “I didn’t think I’d get through the day without ruining them.”
“You can be a lady when the occasion calls for it, Calley.”
Calley turned his words around in her mind, searching for the core meaning. “That all depends on what your definition of a lady is,” she said.
Dean sat down beside her. He was looking at her throat, and his glance traveled downward, but still hadn’t touched her. “A lady is a chameleon. She’s whatever the occasion calls for. No matter what, she knows who she is.”
Calley didn’t know if she fit that definition. She did know she was much more comfortable at the Flathead than at a wedding, but she was able to enjoy both experiences. “Do you think that’s possible?” she asked. “I wonder if anyone is always in control.”
“Maybe not in control,” Dean amended. “But a lady, or an adult, if that’s the better term, knows what his and her strengths and weaknesses are. What makes them vulnerable.”
