“She got something like blood poisoning.”
“Toxemia?”
“Yeah. That’s what they called it. She fainted in the kitchen one night. Pa put her in the truck and I held her head on the way to a hospital, but that place transferred her to the public hospital because she was a charity case. She went into a coma and died in a roomful of other patients, without even a damned privacy curtain around her bed.”
“Oh, Jedidiah.” Crying silently. Thena hugged her arms across her chest. He was no longer a stranger. He was a deeply hurt man whom she understood very well.
His voice was rough. “And old H. Wilkens had the gall to raise hell after she died. He tried to have her buried with the rest of the Greggs, in New York, and Pa had to go to court to fight it. Then he tried to get custody of me, for God’s sake. I guess he wanted to hurt us as much as he could.” He paused, and all the energy seemed to desert him. His shoulders slumped. “That’s the kind of man who built SalHaven.”
“A man who loved his daughter and his grandson and tried to show it in the only ways he knew how.”
Jed turned around slowly, every movement lethal with tension. He looked at her with disbelief. “I don’t want to hear that kind of … I don’t want to hear it.”
Thena held out both hands. He had to consider the possibility that his grandfather was a decent man. “Don’t you see?” she asked. “He probably would have helped your mother if she’d come to him for money. After she died, think of the guilt and regret he must have felt for what he’d done to her! He wanted to make everything up somehow. Bringing her body home and raising her son in luxury must have been his only hopes.”
“You’re just tryin’ to save this place by talkin’ nonsense.”
Wounded, Thena brushed the tears off her cheeks and straightened angrily. “The fact that your grandfather left you Sancia Island and millions of dollars ought to prove how desperate he was to make amends.”
“Maybe he got religion right before he died. Lost of hellions do.”
“No! I don’t feel that kind of presence here at SalHaven,” she argued. “I’ve heard stories about your grandparents all my life. Your grandfather had too much pride, but he wasn’t a monster. He just didn’t know how to accept a daughter who had an equal amount of pride. It’s sad, Jedidiah. You should feel sorry for him.…”
Jed uttered several choice swear words in a low, furious voice. Thena froze, staring at him wide-eyed, afraid of the raw anger she’d provoked. He closed in on her like a predator, his movements so quick that she had no chance to run. His hands shot forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, then twisted her around to face the cool, empty majesty of the mansion’s interior.
“Let me go!” she ordered tautly. He pulled her against his chest so that he could put his mouth close to her ear. Thena struggled against the heat of his breath, the harsh power in his body, the carefully controlled strength in his hands. He spoke fiercely.
“Look at this place and tell me I should feel sorry for that bastard,” he demanded. “This was a palace. He was a king. He could do anything he wanted. It wouldn’t have hurt him to forgive my mother. To hell with feelin’ sorry for him. Don’t you ever say that to me again.”
Philippe Sainte-Colbet had noted on many occasions that his only child had the temperament of a wild mare. Thena jerked away from Jed Powers’s possessive hands and turned to glare up at him with pure menace, her breath coming in short swallows. “You have no right to touch me,” she warned.
“I have a right to everything on this island,” he retorted.
She twisted on one sandaled heel and walked quickly inside the mansion. Jed followed her, silently cursing every confusing, upsetting thing that had occurred in his life during the last three days because of her.
She went outside with him close behind, signaled Cendrillon, and swung up on the delicate little horse’s back. She scowled down at him and spoke in a cold voice. “What would you like to see next, cowboy? Or does it matter? You never seriously intended to let me change your mind about selling my island, did you?”
“No.”
He watched her fingers wind tightly through strands of Cendrillon’s long mane. “You were just playing with me, making fun of me,” she accused. Her gray eyes were molten with fury. “Maybe you thought you’d make friends with me and then I’d be no trouble at all. You’d get a … a little pleasure and then you’d leave. Was that it?”
“Sure,” he said tautly. “I was just going to use my country-boy charm to sweep you off your feet. Savage and Slick, those are my middle names.”
“Good-bye and good riddance, cowboy.” She backed the mare away from him and swung her around in one smooth movement. Thena looked back over her shoulder at Jed. His expression was inscrutable, but she thought she saw sorrow in his eyes. She forced the notion away. “I hope you can find your own way back to the dock on the west beach,” she told him in an unconcerned tone of voice.
“I reckon I can manage that simple chore without your help. You’re not goin’ to sic your devil dogs on me, are you?” Rasputin and Godiva had just trotted out of the forest, and they eyed him greedily as they panted by Cendrillon’s legs.
“No. I’ll find other ways to fight you.”
“Fight me, and you’ll lose everything.”
Thena gave him a look full of bitter irony. “Your grandfather would be proud of your attitude.”
She swung the mare around and nudged her into a lope. The dogs followed. Jed’s shrewd gaze stayed on her until she disappeared into the sanctuary of the island woods. That sharp-tongued gal is right, he finally admitted in disgust. He sounded just like the grandfather he hated.
By the time she reached her house, Thena had settled on a dangerous plan. Everything had gone wrong at SalHaven, and the island’s future looked grim because of it. She had to take desperate measures, even though they might provoke the brawling side of Jedidiah’s nature.
Thena went into her bedroom and sat down at a ham radio on the small table near her bed. Jedidiah had mentioned that he’d hired Farlo Briggs to bring him over to the island and take him back. She got a telephone connection via her radio and punched Briggs’s number into her phone base.
When he answered, she said politely, “This is Thena Sainte-Colbet on Sancia Island, calling for Jedidi … Jed Powers. Mr. Powers has decided to stay on the island a few more days. I’ll call you when he’s ready to return to the mainland.”
There was a very indecisive pause on Farlo’s side of the connection. “You ain’t bewitched him, have you?” he asked suspiciously.
“Not yet,” Thena deadpanned. “He was perfectly normal the last time I saw him. He simply changed his mind about leaving today.”
“Uh-huh,” Farlo mumbled. “Well, call me when he’s ready to come back.”
“I certainly will,” she said cheerfully. “Good-bye.”
After the connection clicked off, she opened the radio and looked inside. “Frequency synthesizer board, where are you?” Thena muttered under her breath. Her nimble fingers located the tiny board and removed it. Being serendipitous had its advantages, she thought. Not many people understood the inner workings of a ham radio better than she did.
Thena went to the vanity dresser in one corner, found a safety pin, ran it under a component lead, and secured the board inside the waistband of her baggy white shorts. Even if Jedidiah knew how to operate a ham radio, even if he broke into her house and forced her to show him the radio, it’d be a cold day in Dixie before he got the radio to work without the little darling that lay cool and flat on the skin beneath her navel.
Smiling, Thena sat down in her rocking chair and simply waited for all hell to break loose.
Five
Dusk was gathering around the short Sabal palms in Thena’s front yard before Jed’s pride crumbled and he pounded on her screen door. Rasputin and Godiva trotted to the door and sat down in front of it, facing him grimly. Jed returned their threatening gazes.
“Yes
?” Thena called lightly, as she walked up the hallway from her studio at the back of the house. With all the nonchalance of a housewife answering a salesman’s visit, she wiped her watercolor brush on a white rag and gave Jed an inquisitive, innocent examination.
He propped one hand on the outside doorframe and leaned jauntily, the other hand on his denimed hip, Clint Eastwood in distress. His expression was grim. “I’ll give you fifty dollars if you have a radio on this godforsaken lump of sand and you’ll use it to call the guy who was supposed to come get me.”
“Why don’t you stay on Sancia a few more days, Jedidiah? I’ll give you a room and plenty to eat. I’m sorry I took you to SalHaven before you were ready.”
His deep voice was tense, but she heard the apology in it. “Seein’ that old place brought back a lot of memories. You just got in the middle and caught the flack. I wouldn’t ever have been so mean … I think a lot of you and …” He broke off, unable to express what he was really feeling. Thena’s heart softened a little.
“I understand. You … you just fired from the hip.”
“But that doesn’t change a thing about the way I feel toward the island. All right, you can keep your house and the land around it, but I’m gonna sell the rest to a developer.”
Her voice never rose. “You might be tougher than whale skin, but I’m a match for you. You’re not thinking clearly. The rhythm of life here will mesmerize you, if you just give it a chance.”
“A hundred bucks. Just call Farlo Briggs and I’ll give you a hunded bucks.”
She took a steadying breath. “I’ve already called him. He’ll be back for you in a few days. I’m afraid I’ve taken you prisoner.”
Her heart thumped painfully as he straightened, his face tightening into a mask of disbelief and anger. Those dark hawk eyes assessed her through a squint that focused his anger into a searing ray. “Nobody,” he emphasized, “has—ever—taken—me—prisoner.”
“Until now.”
“Thena.” His voice was dangerously slow. It vibrated with tension. “Call—Farlo—Briggs—before—I—get—mad.”
“Maybe my radio is broken. Maybe my boat won’t start. It’s perfectly logical.”
He slammed the screen door open and lunged toward her, but the dogs met him with bared teeth and raised hackles. He stopped, his legs braced, his hands clenched by his sides. Thena’s hands were shaking as she held them out in supplication.
“You might as well accept your fate. It won’t be bad. You can sleep in my old bedroom upstairs. We’ll go back to SalHaven tomorrow and—”
“Call Farlo,” Jed interjected, biting off both words with clenched teeth.
She shook her head. His expression turned darker, and he took one more step forward. Rasputin darted toward him, growling, and snapped viciously at his leg. Godiva posed to leap. “Stop, Jedidiah, please!” Thena begged. “They’ll attack, and I won’t be able to stop them before they hurt you!” Jed realized that she was trying to save his skin, and that he was very near to losing it. He held up his hands as if he’d just been arrested and backed slowly toward the screen door. Rasputin and Godiva sat down and eyed his retreat with regret.
Thena exhaled in relief. “I’ve hidden a component of the radio. You’ll never find it, Jedidiah. And I’ve hidden the key to my boat. You can rage and roar, you can threaten me, but I’ll never tell you where either thing is.”
He anchored his hands on his lean hips. “Little lady, if you think you can rope and tie me this way, you’ve got another think comin’.”
Thena calmly clasped her hands in front of her. “Get your gear and come back before dark or you’ll get lost. I’ll give you a beer and a plate of broiled sea trout, with homemade rolls. You’ll be perfectly happy, once you relax. You can tell me all about Wyoming.”
She had the feeling that she was the first person in years to provoke him this way. His jaw worked angrily as he glared at her. When he spoke, his voice seemed to have dropped at least one octave, which made it sound deadly.
“I’ll live on the beach eatin’ seaweed and turtle eggs before I’ll roll over and play puppy for you,” he informed her. “I’ll flag down a boat.”
“Good luck. Not many come by this way.” She smiled, although she felt weak in the pit of her stomach. Thena had to give him credit for determination. That was something she admired deeply, even if it did make the situation much more difficult. “When you lose your desire to play Robinson Crusoe, there’ll be a clean bed and good food waiting here for you.”
“It’ll be a cold day in hell.”
“That’s too bad. The next cold day here won’t be until January.”
He advanced again, stopped again at the dogs’ fierce bristling, and jabbed one forefinger at her. “When I get my hands on you, I’ll tie you to that big ol’ bed of yours and let you watch while I tear this house apart. I’ll find that radio part or the boat key.”
“You’re free to go anytime you want.” She whipped a hand out in a gesture of airy dismissal. “Swim to the mainland.” Tie her to the bed? Would he really stoop to a personal attack? she wondered breathlessly. And if he did, would he be a gentleman? Or could the term “gentleman” even be considered for someone who’d tie a woman to a bed?
“I could come back here,” he began, “with my gun—”
“Pooh. You wouldn’t really shoot me, and you know it. Stop talking like a cowboy, cowboy.”
“What do you want from me, lady? You don’t want my body, that’s for sure. I got that message loud and clear.”
He was so wrong. She loved his build and the way he moved, quiet and easy, but with power. He was the kind of man who wouldn’t have to jostle his way through a crowd. He’d just amble between people, twisting those wide shoulders gracefully, always conscious of his movements but nonchalant about them. He was a man who thought of his body as a tool, not an ornament. She found that very appealing.
“I want your cooperation,” Thena answered. “I want your attention—”
“Go swimmin’ nekkid again sometime, and you’ll get it,” he challenged.
She covered her mouth in dismay and blushed deeply. “You were here the other afternoon when I went swimming on the west shore?”
He was seething, and he wanted to provoke her. “Oh, yes, ma’am, and let me tell you, I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a show more. You’re a filly with mighty fine conformation. Good legs, trim ankles, a beautiful chest, a delicate neck, a strong back, and a solid rump. ’Course, it’s too bad that you got a lame knee.” He disliked that cruel choice of taunts immediately when he saw wounded bitterness touch her eyes. “But that doesn’t matter, ’cause you’re the kind of pretty filly a man would want to use for breedin’, not workin’.”
Thena looked down her nose at him. “Most men remind me of a particularly ugly variety of pig. And I’d say that you’re king of pigs.”
“I’d say there’s somethin’ funny about the way you acted when I smooched you today. I’d say that there for a minute you wanted to take a wild wallow with the ol’ king of pigs here.”
“What lovely analogies. What a lovely person you are. I usually have to go to a stockyard to meet a man of your quality. How thoughtful of you to bring such brilliant repartee to my island.”
He held out both hands in angry supplication. “I don’t want to be here. You don’t want me here. There’s a durned fantastic solution to this problem. You call ol’ Farlo, I wait for him on that excuse-for-a-boat-dock you got, and he takes me far away from here, back where the gals talk sense and appreciate a good man.”
“I appreciate a good man who appreciates the beauty of my island,” she retorted. “And you’re going to stay here until you do.”
“I’ll be deaf, dumb, blind, and senile by then.”
“Which won’t be much of a change, I’m sure.”
In a battle of words, she would always win, Jed acknowledged glumly. “Dammit!” he said in frustration.
“What a marvelous vocabulary.”
She nodded politely to him and walked back down the hall to her studio. Thena heard the screen door slam and his heavy footsteps leave the porch. Her knees trembling, she sat down in a chair by her easel and debated her chances of changing his mind. He was certainly a roughneck cowboy, but she’d never met anyone with a more gallant heart. Thena realized suddenly that she had taken him prisoner for her sake, as well as the island’s.
After she didn’t see him for two days, her curiosity and a traitorous amount of worry for his survival goaded Thena to slip quietly among the beach pines and spy on him. She saw him standing in knee-deep waves, trying to fish with a long length of twine. He’d tied a handful of seashells to the twine as a sinker and created a makeshift hook somehow. He was a magnificent sight, shirtless, the legs of his jeans cut off a little above mid-thigh to reveal dark-haired legs molded by sinewy muscles.
She’d missed a great deal of normal human interaction, growing up on Sancia with reclusive scientists for parents, and having Jed here made her ache with regret for never learning the easy social aplomb so many mainland women seemed to possess. She’d just have to rely on what she’d seen in the movies. Now, if she were Marlene Dietrich in Destry Rides Again, she’d sidle up to Jed and purr, “Vee oughta be friends, you know, mister. Goood friends.” And he’d do anything she wanted.
But she wasn’t Marlene, and he wouldn’t give in. If his fishing luck didn’t change, he was going to starve. Thena hurried back through the forest, making plans.
The next morning Jed found a canvas bag in the sand next to the remnants of his campfire. So Miss Witch moved on silent feet, he thought. Not bad. For years he’d prided himself on the fact that his senses were so keen that no one could sneak up on him while he slept. “Probably a bomb,” he muttered wryly, as he opened the bag.
But inside were rolls, fruit, homemade chocolate chip cookies, two big chunks of cheddar cheese, sunscreen lotion, fishing line, hooks and sinkers, a jug of spring water, and a note. The note said, “I’m not the enemy and you’re not John Wayne. Please take a little help. Thena. P.S. Wouldn’t you like a shave, an ice-cold beer, and a comfortable bed?”
Jed's Sweet Revenge Page 7
