SNOWFIRES

by Caroline Clemmons

  “Me, too. I’m Jenny.” She wore her hair in the same style and shade as her mother’s and carried herself in the same haughty way.

  Jenny’s dark gold dress was the same color as her hair and, with her tanning booth tan, made her appear all the same color. He doubted that was the effect she was going for. Already her practiced pout resembled her mother’s too closely and her dress was far too daring for a girl of her age. Too bad for any poor stiff who fell for this woman.

  But Trent smiled gallantly. “Ladies, you’re almost as beautiful as your sister.”

  They both giggled, but Jenny’s laugh sounded false.

  Angie smiled at Holly. “That’ll be the day.”

  Okay, he liked this one better and better. The other one looked bored and he’d like to give her a swift kick where it would do the most good.

  “Where are your dates?” Holly asked.

  “Oh, around here somewhere.” Angie looked around. “We’re double dating and I’m stuck with that dorky Howard Rice.”

  Jenny glared at her sister. “You should feel honored, after all, he’s a college sophomore. And he’s from a very good family.”

  Angie rolled her eyes. “All he talks about is his tennis game. What do I care if his backhand is improving?”

  Jenny put her hand on Holly’s arm. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m with Stan.”

  The way she said it made Trent wonder who the hell Stan was and why Holly might mind?

  Holly leaned back, her shoulder pressing against Trent. “Except that he’s too old for you why would I mind?”

  Her sisters exchanged glances before Jenny faced Holly. “Well, you know, you and he used to—“

  “Be friends, nothing more, never will be.” Holly’s tone brooked no argument. “I hope you have a nice evening.”

  Two men came to the table and stood behind Angie and Jenny. Trent hated both men at once. They looked like the types named Chip or Biff who wore a sweater tied uselessly about their shoulders and talked about croquet and squash and things Trent had never heard of. Instantly, he wanted to mash them like bugs.

  Holly made quick introductions and Trent rose to shake hands with the men. Stan’s hand was limp as a dead fish.

  Trent took Holly’s hand. Much better. “They’re playing that song you said reminds you of me, Princess.” He nodded to the other four. “Excuse us, won’t you?” Then he swept Holly onto the dance floor.

  She hissed into his ear. “That song I think reminds me of you? Are you aware the name of this is ‘I Can Love You Better.’”

  He laughed. Damned if that wasn’t right; he could love her better. “It’s all I could think of to say, okay? I wanted to get away from those people and have you to myself.”

  She nestled her head on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

  “Your sisters are all right, but I didn’t like those two they’re with.” He twirled her to the edge of the crowd so he could pull her close. “What’s with this Stan guy anyway?”

  She smiled up at him. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  “Glad to hear it.” His voice sounded gruffer than he had intended.

  Holly’s sisters’ dates had all but sneered at him—as if he had no right to be here. Maybe he didn’t but it made him mad as hell for them to act that way. Angie said they’d read the magazine article on him. Damn, that meant Holly had, too.

  Not that it was bad coverage. The headline read “Pirate Steps Ashore In North Texas.” It was short and mainly focused on his takeover of Marvel, but alluded briefly to his life before he bought his shares. Brief information covered all that was available on him and he intended to keep it that way. Damned if he wanted all that old stuff dredged up again.

  By the middle of the evening, he’d danced with each of Holly’s sisters as well as her friend Laura. He evaded their questions and asked some of his own. Easy enough to get them talking and let them rattle on until a dance ended.

  Geneva and Carl came by the table after Trent’s feet had sentenced him to sit out a few numbers. Laura and Rob were there also.

  “Carl, Mrs. Tucker.” Trent shook hands with Winston and nodded to Geneva. She glared through Trent.

  Winston pumped his hand and took the seat beside him. “Glad to see you here enjoying yourself. And with our Little Holly, that’s nice.”

  Trent almost laughed when Holly winced at the nickname her grandfather originated.

  At Winston’s other side Geneva sniffed. “You’d think she’d have more loyalty to her family.”

  Holly offered a malicious smile. “It’s a family business, Geneva. Trent owns part of it, so guess that makes him family.” She gave a long up and down look to Geneva’s skin-toned mesh dress over a clinging slip of the same color. “I see you’re out of mourning.”

  Geneva reddened and huffed. “Walter would have wanted me to have a nice time. He always said life was to enjoy.”

  Carl patted her hand. “And I’m enjoying myself, dear. More than I have in years.”

  Geneva preened and batted her eyes. “Let’s dance, Carlsy.” She leaned forward to give Winston a good view of the goods.

  Hell, if Trent hadn’t watched her performance, he wouldn’t have believed a woman at this level of society could be so obvious. He’d seen shorefront saloon prostitutes act with more subtlety. Winston looked as if he almost peed in his pants hurrying to get her on the floor and in his arms.

  When they’d left, Holly let out a sigh. “Guess I’ll soon be rid of her. Poor Carl.”

  Laura watched the couple walk away. “That dress is even more scandalous up close. You could see the whole nipple outline through that flesh-colored knit slip. And it’s for sure she’d had a bikini wax.” She turned and looked at Trent. “Oops, sorry. Guess I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  He smiled and shrugged. What should he say to that?

  Holly rescued the situation. “Carl’s wife died ten years or more ago after a long illness. Usually he comes to these events for an hour and speaks to friends then leaves.”

  “Looks like he won’t go home alone tonight.” Laura leaned forward. “If he and Geneva marry, does that make him your stepfather?”

  At least that made Holly laugh. “I don’t think so. What it makes me is free of her and her excessive spending. Carl’s rich as Midas and can afford her; I can’t.”

  Rob coaxed Laura back onto the floor.

  Trent let duty force him to ask, “You want to dance?”

  Holly shook her head. “Let’s just sit here while no one else is at the table.” She twirled the stem of her glass. “So, is it as you thought?”

  He scanned the room again. “No, not exactly.”

  “Everyone—well, except for the ever spiteful Geneva—has been nice to you, though, haven’t they?”

  “Yeah, I suppose. If you don’t count that Stan guy. Damn I wanted to punch him.” Trent still wanted to punch him.

  She laughed. “I often felt the same way, which is why I stopped dating him.”

  “Is he as shallow as he seems? No, forget I asked. How could he be and walk and talk?

  “Unfortunately he’s even more so. Nothing of substance ever enters what passes for his brain.” She drew a design on the tablecloth with her thumbnail. “My dad thought I should marry him, if you can believe it.”

  “Damn. What would you talk about?” Walter Tucker was nuttier than Trent had thought if he’d wanted Holly to marry that Ken doll imitation.

  “His tennis, squash, and golf games, his tailor, his barber, his boat.” She grinned at him. “That’s about it.”

  “Damn, people like him should not reproduce.” He finished his drink.

  “True. But they do, just not with me.” She frowned. “I hope Jenny isn’t serious about him. He’s wealthy, but...”

  He patted her hand. “She probably has better fish to fry at school. Maybe there was a little sibling rivalry in her choice of dates.”

  The idea obviously surprised her. “Maybe. I hadn’t though of that.”r />
  His feet had recovered and he saw Laura and Rob headed for the table. “Ready for another dance?” He stood and offered his hand.

  “Sure.” She led him onto the floor then turned and met his gaze. “At least you’re making some good contacts and maybe even having a nice time.”

  He pulled her into his arms. Thank heavens it was a slow dance so he could hold her close. “I’m here with you. How could I not enjoy myself? And I have it on good authority the party may continue after we leave here.”

  “Oh, no, sailor, that’s when it begins.” She snuggled into him.

  Her remark made him misstep. “Sorry, hormones attacked my feet.” When she giggled, he twirled her to prove he could. “Guess I’ll get the hang of this life eventually.”

  Who the hell was he kidding? He fit in here like an onion in a flowerbed. Most people had been polite, but damned if he believed they welcomed him.

  What if he succeeded? What if he pulled the deal off and became one of the wealthy?

  Ha, he’d never fit in here.

  And Holly? Where was that headed? He wasn’t stupid. A roll in the hay with a beautiful woman was great, and he wasn’t about to turn it down. But he wanted more from her.

  A lot more.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Holly sipped her coffee and smiled at memories of last night.

  Marnie refilled her cup. “Don’t you look like the cat who ate the cream? Never knew you to sleep this late. I guess that means you had a nice time at that party.”

  “Mmmhmm. I’m glad I went after all.” Holly took another sip of her coffee and set the cup down. “I forgot to set my alarm and snoozed right through time for church.” She wasn’t sorry; she wanted a day to relax and savor her last two evenings with Trent.

  “Your grandparents will be pleased you’re going out. They worry about you.” Marnie set a cheese Danish in front of her.

  “I know they do.” Holly sniffed and decided the Danish was fresh from a bakery. “Did you buy these this morning?” She took a bite. Lovely.

  “No, Mr. Macleod brought them by when he returned Mr. Joe Bob’s tux.”

  Geneva swirled through and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Holly Ann Tucker, did I hear correctly? You loaned that man your grandfather’s clothes? The nerve.”

  “I checked with Grandpa first.” Not that it was any business of Geneva’s.

  Anger turned Geneva’s face a splotched red. “And how could you attend one of the most important parties of the year with that man? I was humiliated you could be so crass in front of all our friends.”

  Holly fought for her temper. “Like it or not, Trent Macleod is a business associate. If he succeeds, Marvel succeeds and your shares—oh, pardon me, your daughters’ shares—are secure.” Holly took no pleasure in being catty, but Geneva deserved worse.

  “That’s no excuse to parade him around everyone. And I saw how you clung to him like ivy on the dance floor.” Geneva pointed a finger at Holly. “I’ll bet there’s something between you two and it had better stop. Have you forgotten that man is responsible for your father’s death?”

  Choosing her words carefully, Holly watched her stepmother. “I haven’t forgotten you said Trent was to blame, but he’s never displayed the sort of temperament you accused him of showing to Dad.”

  Geneva slammed her cup onto the table heedless of the liquid’s splashes. “Are you saying I lied? How dare you, you ungrateful girl. After I treated you like my own daughter.”

  “Ignored me, you mean, unless you needed a babysitter or scapegoat—or someone to pick up the tab. Let it go, Geneva. You are only here because I promised Dad I would see Jenny and Angie are taken care of. And if you want to talk about hanging on someone, you’d better look at your own door—and Carl’s.”

  “I won’t listen to this.” Geneva stormed out of the room.

  Marnie smiled and mopped up the spilled coffee.

  Holly finished her roll and went to the room she called her study. Right. Where she studied bills and tried to figure a way to pay them.

  Yesterday’s mail had brought another stack of dreaded windowed envelopes. “No use putting off the bad news.” She picked up the letter opener and dug in.

  Jenny knocked at the door. “Hey, Holly. I’m headed back to the dorm but I’m out of cash. Can you tide me over with a couple of hundred?”

  Unfortunately for her sister, Holly had just opened the bill for the suede birthday boots. “No.” She held up the bill. “Three hundred dollars for a pair of suede boots for my birthday? Jenny, I would have preferred something simple you paid for out of your allowance. What kind of present comes with a bill?”

  Jenny looked genuinely puzzled. “But, but you always pay for our charges. You know we don’t have much cash.”

  Holly shook her head. “Not anymore. I’m canceling your credit cards. From now on, you pay for what you get out of the money I give you at the first of each month.”

  Jenny’s mouth gaped. “Canceling our charge cards? You can’t. Holly, I have to dress properly. And there’s the sorority party coming up and I’ll need a new dress and shoes.” She looked at her hands. “And my hair and nails done and a pedicure.”

  And how much would that cost, Holly wondered. “Jenny, listen carefully. The free ride is over. You’ll have to budget your allowance or do without. Or, you could get a job. It’s time to grow up and accept responsibility.”

  “A job? That’s not fair.” Jenny ran from the room. “Motherrrrrr.”

  Holly heard her steps on the stairs.

  Within minutes, Geneva stamped in. “You’ve driven poor Jenny to tears. What’s this nonsense about credit cards and a job?”

  “The cards are history, cancelled. If you use yours, you’ll have to pay the charges.”

  Holly tapped the stack of bills. “I refuse to pay for extravagant purchases, Geneva. It’s true I make a nice salary, but it barely covers the upkeep on this house. In the few months since Dad died, you’ve almost ruined my finances. I can’t afford you any longer, and you’re not doing the girls any favors by letting them spend endlessly.”

  “You won’t get away with this. I’ll—I’ll, well, I’ll think of something.” She turned and made another angry exit, shoving Marnie aside at the doorway.

  Marnie set a tea tray containing and another Danish on the desk and patted Holly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. Her type will be off with another man soon and out of your hair.”

  “I know. Ugh, you should have seen her last night hanging on Carl Winston.”

  “That nice man? Too bad, especially since he’s one of your grandfather’s closest friends. That might be awkward.” Marnie looked toward the doorway. “You’d think Mr. Winston would have more sense.”

  “She hung all over him and called him ‘Carlsy.’ It was sickening. And her dress was scandalous.”

  “Yes, I was on the way to my rooms when she came down. It was very...revealing.” Marnie gave Holly’s shoulder another pat. “You looked lovely, though, dear. Mrs. Ila Mae has exquisite taste in clothes and you wear them so well.”

  “Maybe she should have helped Geneva.”

  Marnie tut-tutted. “I don’t think that’s likely. For one thing, Mrs. Tucker probably would have thrown out any dress Mrs. Ila Mae gave her.”

  “I wish I could throw Geneva out and never see her again.” She sighed. “But, I promised Dad to take care of the girls. I guess Geneva’s part of the bargain.”

  “Hmph. And after what she did to your father.” Marnie whirled and her eyes widened as she clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “What did you mean by that, Marnie?” Holly froze in place.

  Marnie shook her head and wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Holly rose and stood in front of her housekeeper. She touched Marnie’s arm. “Marnie, tell me what you meant.”

  Marnie shook her head. “Can’t. When you all came to live here and I stayed on, Mr. Joe Bob made me promise I wouldn’t cause tro
uble between you and Mrs. Tucker.”

  “There’s already trouble between us, and I suspect it will only get worse now.” She tugged Marnie’s hand. “Please tell me exactly what you meant just now. What did Geneva do to Dad?”

  Marnie looked as if she’d cry. She shuffled to one of two fireside wing chairs and sat down. “I never told anyone. Maybe I should have.”

  Pulling teeth would be easier, but Holly was determined to learn what this was about. Something told her it was bad and of major consequence. She sat across from Marnie. “Told what?”

  “That day Mr. Tucker had the heart attack, it wasn’t because of Mr. Macleod, although your father was plenty mad at his offer to let him stay on at the company as second in command. But it was a nice offer and Mr. Macleod made it in a very tactful way.”

  “He did?” Holly smiled at the confirmation of Trent’s version. Not that she doubted him, but it was nice to know there was another witness in case Geneva continued her accusations. “And what else. Get to the part about Geneva.”

  Marnie refused to look at Holly. “After Mr. Macleod left she said some awful things. How Mr. Tucker was worthless as a man and a husband. How she was taking the girls and going to her parents and he’d never see them again.”

  “Oh, no, that must have broken his—his heart. Oh.” Holly wanted to cry for her poor father and at the same time she wanted to choke Geneva. “So that’s why he had the heart attack.”

  Marnie nodded. “I wanted to tell you, but I’d promised Mr. Joe Bob, just like you promised your father to take care of the girls. And it wouldn’t have brought him back. Thank goodness I overheard and called the ambulance. Ohh”—Marnie clapped a hand to her mouth again—“I didn’t mean to say that.”

  Cold rage swept through Holly. “Geneva didn’t even call for help? You mean she stood and watched my father collapse and didn’t try to help him?”

  Marnie shook her head. “Mr. Joe Bob will fire me for sure.”

  Holly stood and kissed the older woman’s cheek. “No he won’t because he’ll never know. But I’m going to kick Geneva’s sorry ass out of here.”