Texas Heat

by Fern Michaels

  Voices from the corridor outside the kitchen made him turn. Amelia must have come through the kitchen, Susan in her wake. Both women had cups of tea in their hands. If he drank one more cup of tea, Rand thought, he would float out the door. He greeted both women with a kiss on the cheek, then poured himself a triple Scotch.

  “I couldn’t stay at the house another minute,” Amelia said. “Nothing went right today. I thought I was going to crawl out of my skin. I tried to call Cary nine times, but he was out on the site and couldn’t be reached. I needed to talk to him,” Amelia said in a brittle voice. “I have to call Billie. Maybe I should go to New York. Sawyer would understand. She’d know I was making the trip for Billie. But... I’m not sure now. I don’t know how to...How in the name of God are we supposed to act? Do we rally ’round, offer ... what? Sympathy? Pity?”

  “I think you should do whatever feels right to you,” Rand said, staring at the amber fluid in his glass.

  “What are you going to do?” Amelia demanded. “How are you handling this?”

  “Very carefully. I’m taking it hour by hour. Look, I did the right thing and I did it for the right reasons. You’re both going to have to accept that. Maggie wasn’t in my life when I broke it off with Sawyer. I’m sorry you’ve all chosen up sides. I’m the bad guy now. I’d cut off my right arm if it would help Sawyer.”

  Amelia leaned her head back wearily. “I know, Rand. In a lot of ways Sawyer had more than most, but she also had less of the things that really count. Billie isn’t going to be able to make this right for her. And she shouldn’t have to,” Amelia said angrily. “From here on out it’s Maggie’s job.”

  “Sawyer was supposed to be godmother to my baby,” Susan said tearfully.

  “What do you mean was?” Amelia asked. “She isn’t dead, you know. Of course she’s going to be the godmother if she’s up to it. How could you even think of anything else?”

  “It’s such a shock. I guess I haven’t fully accepted it yet,” Susan said softly.

  “And that’s another thing. Stop whining, Susan. Other women have babies. Other women’s husbands leave them. Face up to your responsibilities. Grow up!”

  “Aren’t you being a little hard on her?” Rand asked, his eyes wide.

  “You’re another one. Sometimes you make me so angry. You’re sitting here riddled with guilt, not knowing what to do. You already did it. Now stand up to it and handle that guilt. Do what’s best for Sawyer. And what’s going to be best for Sawyer is that you not be here when Susan’s baby is born. Go back to England.”

  “I’m not a kid anymore that you can order around. Why do I have to go back to England? What’s done is done. I intend to work my tail off making Maggie see that I care for her. If that means I have to stay here, then I will. We will all deal with this situation the best way each of us knows how. I’m sorry you feel this way, Mother.”

  Tears pricked at Amelia’s eyes. “Sawyer’s needs will be different now. She needs the warmth, the caring, of a man who loves her. If only you hadn’t been so rash. You could have put your life on hold for a year to see her through this. This betrayal, this blatant carrying on with Maggie. Just imagine what Sawyer must be going through, how she must be feeling.”

  “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about it; no one will let me forget! But I still wouldn’t have done things differently. I don’t love Sawyer. Would you stay with Cary if he didn’t love you?”

  Amelia flinched. “Of course not,” she cried.

  “Susan, would you stay with a man who didn’t love you?”

  Susan sniffed. “That’s a strange question to ask me. I’m here for just that reason. I don’t think any of us should say any more. We’re all uptight and liable to say things we’re going to regret later. Where’s Maggie?”

  “She went upstairs to tell the boys. If there was a way I could do it for her, I would. She’s really hurting, Mother. You saw it at lunchtime, didn’t you, Susan?”

  “Yes. I wanted to cry for her, but it wouldn’t have done any good. We’ll talk when the time is right for Maggie. I think I’ll go up to my room now and watch the news. It’s time I took an interest in what’s going on in the world. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Now, what’s really bothering you, Mother?”

  Amelia sighed. “Aside from Sawyer, it’s Cary. I told you I called him nine times and he didn’t return my calls. He wears a beeper and there’s a portable phone in the Bronco.” She looked up at him defiantly. “Don’t get the idea that I call and pester just for the sake of hearing his voice. In fact, I make it a practice not to bother him. But I really needed him today.”

  “So, what are you trying to say?”

  “I don’t think Eileen gave him my messages.”

  “I think you’re off base, Mother. Surely, if that was her intention, she knows you would mention it to Cary this evening and ask him directly. What could she gain?”

  “My husband. One of the other investors. She made a play for you over Christmas. Have you been in touch with her?”

  “She called me one day and invited me for dinner, but I begged off. I don’t need any Eileen Farrells in my life.”

  “I don’t need an Eileen Farrell in my life, either,” Amelia cried passionately. “God, she’s so young. Sawyer is so young. I’m sorry, Rand. It’s been a bad day. I think I’m going to go up and soak in a hot tub. If I’m not down by seven, check to see if I drowned.”

  “I’ll do that. Do you want a copy of the evening paper?”

  “No, thanks. I have enough problems without taking on the world. Relax, Rand, and don’t let this string you out to the point where you do something foolish.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.” Rand poured himself another drink. Then he settled down, his eyes fastened on the stairway, to await Maggie’s return.

  Both boys stared at Maggie in disbelief. “Is there anything you want to ask me? I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I can call Mam and find out.”

  There were tears in Riley’s eyes. “It isn’t fair!” he cried.

  “No, it isn’t fair at all. We all have to make the most of the time we have.”

  “Can we call her?” Riley asked in a quivering voice.

  “Of course, but I’d give it a week or so. Why don’t you write a letter first. What you put in that letter is going to be up to you, so be careful.”

  “I will. I’m going to write my grandfather. He’s very fond of Sawyer. Excuse me, Aunt Maggie.”

  Maggie was left alone with her son. There had been no show of emotion on his face when she’d told him about Sawyer. There was none now. “Cole, I ... wish I wasn’t the one who had to tell you this. I know how much you’ve come to love Sawyer. I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry, Mother? I find that a little hard to swallow. You’ve always hated Sawyer. Why should you be sorry now? Won’t you dance on her grave when they bury her?”

  Maggie’s hand shot out. The bright red mark on the boy’s face didn’t make her apologize. Cole backed off a step. “This should fit right into your plans. You and Rand live happily ever after. Grand won’t have Sawyer to fuss over anymore, only you and Aunt Susan. You’ll be the queen bee, the great matriarch of Sunbridge. She’ll haunt you, Mommy dearest, until the day you die. You fucked up,” he said cruelly.

  Maggie’s hand shot out a second time. “If you ever—I repeat, ever—talk to me like that again, you’ll wish you hadn’t. We don’t use words like that here. Remember that. I suggest you sit down and think about the coming year and what you can do to make it better for your sister. Dinner is at seven.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Cole’s hand was on his cheek.

  “I don’t care if you’re hungry or not. Be at the table and be civil. If not, you’ll get more of the same, only next time I won’t hold back. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly,” he sneered.

  Outside in the hallway Maggie leaned against the wall. She was trembling so badly, she had t
o wrap her arms around her chest. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t lose control now.

  As she stood there trying to gather herself together before going downstairs, the blinding whiteness from the second-floor landing drew her. She looked out at the mounds of snow extending into the distance as far as the eye could see. She’d been happy here for such a short while. Her heart told her that happiness would never return. Mam’s phone call had changed everything. Or was it the hours she’d spent reading her diaries, looking into her soul? What was that elusive thing called happiness? Did it really exist? Was it waking up with a smile in a place you loved, ready to take on the world? Was it titillating bits and pieces of time that made the adrenaline flow? Did it come from within or from outside? Was it insulating yourself from everything and anything so you didn’t feel? She shook her head. If you didn’t feel, you’d be safe from pain, but then you wouldn’t know happiness, either. It was a package deal.

  Tears rolled down Maggie’s cheeks as she made her way downstairs. She made no move to wipe them away. Let the world see, for all she cared. The phoenix had risen from the ashes; so would she. She’d fight.

  Cole Tanner stood in the center of his room. He felt disoriented. He should do something. Pound the walls, stamp his feet, bellow out his rage. He jammed his shaking hands into his jeans pockets.

  Sawyer was going to die.

  Not Maggie, not his father, not his aunts or Riley, but Sawyer. How could that be? She was so healthy, always taking vitamins and exercising. She’d worked like a dog with him this summer in the barn. If you were sick, you couldn’t work like that. She’d been fine in New York. She’d eaten as much as the rest of them, had trekked along for hours and never seemed to be the worse for it. She’d laughed and had a good time. He knew you could do all those things with a broken heart, but when you were sick you slowed down. You didn’t laugh when you were sick. Not Sawyer. Anybody but Sawyer.

  He was going to be alone again.

  Anger rushed through him. It wasn’t fair! Not to Sawyer and not to him. He didn’t care about the others: his mother, his grandmother, or his father. What did they know about loneliness, not belonging?

  He didn’t care what his mother said. He picked up the phone and called Adam Jarvis. Adam’s voice came on the line, the same voice he remembered, only stronger somehow. “Can I speak to Sawyer?”

  “She went for a walk with your grandmother. I’m not sure when they’ll be back. Cole, she’s all right for now. She’s trying to come to grips. She knows what the doctors told her, but she can’t quite believe it. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I suppose so, I wanted her to know that she could count on me if she needs me. I could drop out of this next semester and come to New York. My father would agree to that. My mother would have a fit, but I don’t much care.”

  “Sawyer knows she can count on you, Cole. Right now, though, I think she has to learn to count on herself. I’ll tell her you called and give her the message. Don’t be hurt or surprised if she doesn’t call you back for a while. And Cole?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll take care of her. Trust me.”

  “Shit, I know that. Tell her ... tell her that ... Oh, shit.”

  “Kid, the word love isn’t so hard to say. You have to practice it and use it. I’ll tell her for you.”

  “No, don’t do that. I’ll do it myself when she calls me. Just tell her I called.”

  “Cole, how did Riley take the news?”

  “It was a blow. He loves her, too. He said he was going to his room to write to his grandfather. I think Sawyer and his grandfather were very close. Sawyer was good friends with his mother, too.”

  “Maggie?”

  Cole’s voice was cold, so brittle Adam thought he could hear the wire crackle in his ear. “Business as usual. Dinner’s at seven. Nothing upsets the routine here. If you want to know if she’s upset, I can’t tell you.”

  Adam hesitated. “Rand?”

  “That’s one cool dude. It’s in his eyes. I’d say—and this is only my opinion—he feels bad. He should for hurting Sawyer.”

  “Don’t place blame, Cole. People do what they have to do even if we don’t understand their reasons. Don’t hate him; Sawyer doesn’t. Take care of yourself. I’ll tell Sawyer you called.”

  “Call me, Adam, even if Sawyer doesn’t. Promise.”

  “I promise, kid. Hang tough.”

  Riley opened the door at the sound of a knock. He was stunned to see Cole standing in the doorway. “C’mon in.” He made no move to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks. Both boys stared at each other. “I don’t care if you see me crying. I don’t care if you tell anyone, either,” Riley said belligerently. “Here.” He handed his cousin a wadded-up ball of toilet paper.

  “Who’m I gonna tell? She’s my sister. She’s the only one who ever cared about me.” Cole gulped. “What gets me is she didn’t look sick to me. We had such a good time in New York. Now she’s gonna die. I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t understand, either. I was talking to my mother fifteen minutes before she was killed. I feel like you do. I don’t have anyone, either, but my grandfather, and he’s very old. Here in the United States I have no one but the Coleman family. I’ve been thinking about going back to Japan. That should make you happy.”

  “Finally realized you don’t belong,” Cole said coolly. “About time.”

  “That’s not why. I’d never let you drive me out.”

  “I’d never stay someplace I wasn’t wanted.”

  “When it’s you doing the wanting, it doesn’t bother me. If I do decide to go home,” Riley said defiantly, “it won’t be because of you.”

  “I didn’t come in here to discuss that. I came to talk about Sawyer. We get out of school the end of May. I thought maybe she’d like to go on a trip or take a vacation. We could go for the whole summer. I don’t know anything about brain tumors, how she’ll feel or anything. Do you?”

  “No. We could call up a doctor and ask. Your mother would probably know.”

  “I’m not asking my mother anything. Adam will know. He’ll want to go, too. It’ll be like Christmas. We could make all the plans and sort of spring it on her and Adam.”

  “Who’s this supposed to help? Them or us?”

  “Us, you jerk. Nothing can help Sawyer. We’re just gonna be her support system. But we’re gonna need a lot of money. How much do you have?”

  “In the bank or on me?”

  “You are a jerk. In the bank. We’ll need money for tickets and money to rent some place. I’ve never been to Hawaii. Have you?”

  “Only on a layover on the way here from Japan. I think I have thirty-three hundred in the bank, maybe less. The statement didn’t come yet and I took out a lot for Christmas. I can get some money from my grandfather if you tell me how much we need. How much do you have?”

  “You must be kidding. I have fifty-six dollars and no place to get any more. It’s up to you if we pull this off.”

  “I knew there was a reason you came in here. I’m writing to my grandfather now. How much should I ask for?”

  Cole sat down at Riley’s desk and pulled out the calculator. “I’ve seen commercials on TV for flights to Hawaii. They quoted a $599 ticket, so that’s $2,396 for the four of us. Maybe we can rent a condo. That’s the off season for tourism in Hawaii, so let’s say $1,500 a week. If we stay a month, it will be $6,000. We have to eat and see the sights, take in the other islands. Probably $5,000 on top of that. Figure a total of $25,396. My mother will give me some money, and I can squeeze some from the old man. Not a lot, though, so don’t count on it.” Cole looked up anxiously. “Do you think your grandfather will send it?”

  “When I tell the old one what it’s for, he won’t ask questions. What if we run short?”

  “Then ask for a little more. If we don’t use it all, you can send it back. Look, I’m sorry I can’t contribute, but I can’t draw on my trust fund till I’m twenty-one. You know how hard i
t is for me to get money out of my mother. If you don’t want to go along with this, say so now.”

  “I think it’s a good idea. Sawyer will approve of what she calls our ingenuity. Adam’ll probably be glad we took care of the details. The money isn’t the problem. It’s me and you that’s the problem.”

  “We’ll call a truce. I don’t get in your way and you don’t get in mine. We managed at Christmas and we can do it again.”

  “Okay. Truce.” Riley sighed. “Someday I hope you tell me what it is you have against me. I came here prepared to like you.”

  Cole snorted. “Fat chance.”

  “Right. And now that I’ve made you feel better, you can toddle off to your room and act like a man instead of a sixteen-year-old who thinks it’s shameful to cry. When I hear from my grandfather, I’ll let you know.”

  “You aren’t throwing me out. I’m leaving on my own.” Cole turned at the door. “By the way, I ... I called Adam. He said Sawyer went for a walk with Grand. He’ll call us and keep in touch. I thought you might want to know.”

  “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Drop dead,” Cole muttered as he closed the door.

  Riley sat with his chin cupped in his hand, staring at the door for a long time. It was really the first time Cole had come into his room and stayed to talk. Maybe they were making progress of a sort. He wished there was something he could do for Cole. How lonely he must be.

  It was late; the bedroom lamps cast dim shadows into the corners of Maggie’s bedroom. The house was asleep except for the two of them.

  Maggie lay in the crook of Rand’s arm, wide awake. He, too, was awake, staring at the ceiling. He liked the pressure of Maggie’s dark head on his shoulder, liked the feel of her body pressing against his. If this was wrong, why did it feel so right, so good? It was crazy, but he felt like he’d finally come home after a long, long journey. They nurtured each other, loved each other, and he didn’t want to lose what they’d found together. But it wasn’t going to be up to him. He knew Maggie was sending him away. This was their last night together; he’d return to England tomorrow.