by Jeanne Allan
The woman's astonishing disclosures coming so close on the heels of her earlier shocking discovery left Dallas unable to speak. Deep within her, anger began to grow. Privacy, decency…were such concepts foreign to these people? How casually they spoke of infidelity.
Mercedes must have seen the gathering storm-clouds on Dallas's face. 'Why are you so angry? Alanna was not a woman to remain long without a man. Besides, it is past.' She shrugged. 'I am left with my memories. You have Clay. He is a good man. A man of the earth. Dependable.'
'If Clay is so wonderful, why did you try and take Kyle from Alanna?'
Exquisite brows rose at Dallas's question. 'I did not try. I did. Kyle was in my blood. I thought that I could substitute him with Clay, but night and day could not be more different than those brothers.'
If she shrugs once more, I'm going to slug her, Dallas thought. Luckily the other woman turned away as someone called her name.
'Hello, Alanna's little cousin. Welcome to Colorado.' Another man wrapped his arm around her waist.
Dallas said something rude and broke loose of his grasp. In the next hour it seemed to her as if almost every male at the party made a pass at her. Except Clay. He was apparently in the barn looking at a sick calf. Dallas's stomach-ache had gone from imaginary to real. If she didn't get out of here soon, she was going to further embarrass herself by throwing up.
Finally Clay returned. He smiled at the hostess in a way he'd never smiled at his wife. Dallas walked up to him and grabbed his arm, cutting off the woman's conversation in mid-stream. 'I don't feel well. I want to go home.'
'Right now?' Clay asked.
'Oh, dear, I'm so sorry.' Concern darkened the woman's eyes.
Concern? Or anticipation? They must all be waiting for her to leave so they could feast on their loathsome gossipy titbits, Dallas thought cynically. 'Now,' she said.
'If you'd like to lie down…?' the woman offered.
In your bedroom? With your husband? Dallas wanted to shout. Why? So you can find out what my cousin saw in my husband? Out loud she merely said, 'No, thank you. I think I'll be better off in my own bed.'
'That's true. When I'm sick I hate being away from home. I do hope it's nothing serious.'
The woman almost sounded as if she meant it. Dallas gave her a weak smile before following Clay, who'd gone after their coats.
'Not leaving, are you, honey?'
Dallas couldn't even remember the name of the man who put his arm around her. If she could just get out of the door without starting a scene… 'Yes. I'm not feeling well.' She tried to ease out of his embrace.
'I knew there was something the matter,' he said. 'Alanna was never snooty.' He squeezed her shoulders. 'Maybe we can get together for coffee or something when you're feeling more perky.'
Dallas closed her eyes. 'I don't think so.'
'You sure don't look much like Alanna,' the man said.
'My wife is nothing like Alanna.' Clay's voice was cool behind them.
Dallas moved automatically to put her arms into the coat Clay was holding, barely listening as he bid the man goodbye.
Clay said nothing as he escorted her to the car. The interior was freezing, and Dallas shivered, attempting vainly to find warmth as she curled up inside her heavy coat. Clay reached in the back seat for a blanket which he flung over her. He hadn't said a word to her since she'd insisted on coming home. She glanced over at him. He was fussing with the heater dials. The silence ripped at her nerves. 'Why didn't you warn me?' she asked. 'Or is a little sadism your idea of a good time?'
'I don't know what you mean,' he said. 'I hoped you'd get to know and like my neighbours.'
'Is that why you just dumped me there?'
'Buck had a calf—'
'Who was obviously much more important than a mere wife.'
'I take it you didn't have a good time,' he said in a tightly controlled voice.
'A good time!' Her voice was pitched dangerously high, and she took a deep breath. 'The women are vultures, and the men are old lechers.'
'I don't know what happened—'
'I'll tell you what happened. Your good friends are a bunch of grown men who pawed at me as if they were animals.' She shuddered. 'Does everyone here have the morals of an alley cat?'
'Aren't you exaggerating a little?'
'Exaggerating! I've never felt so unclean in my life. How Alanna put up with—'
'Alanna was adept at playing games. Flirting. A few stolen kisses here and there. She added a little spice to their lives.' He carefully negotiated a corner. 'Everyone knew it didn't mean anything.'
She looked at him in horror. Why couldn't Clay admit his love for Alanna? Dallas would try to understand and perhaps their shared loss and their love of Alanna could be a thread that bound them together. If Clay would be honest, they might bridge the gulf between them. Instead, his refusal to speak was a wall that kept them apart. 'I can't believe you're speaking that way about Alanna,' she said finally in a tight voice.
'Don't you think it's time you faced the truth about her?'
'Why don't you tell me the truth?'
Clay didn't answer for a long moment. 'I think we ought to let it be. You and Alanna are so different.' He paused. 'It never occurred to me that anyone would expect you to behave as she did.' He gave her a swift glance. 'I'm sorry about tonight. There's a lot more to this marriage stuff than I'd anticipated.'
'It's a little late for second thoughts.'
'It's never too late,' Clay said.
They were back at the ranch. Dallas bolted from the car and ran inside. Let Clay thank his father for baby-sitting. Pausing only to check on Nicky, Dallas went straight to her room. Not even bothering to wash her face, she dragged her flannel nightgown over her shaking body.
Apparently it was no secret in Clay's crowd that Clay and Alanna had been having an affair. Why hadn't Alanna told her? They'd never kept secrets from each other before. Dallas wiped an impatient hand across her damp cheeks and climbed beneath the bedcovers. And Clay… didn't she have the right to know that there had been something between him and her cousin? Maybe it had nothing to do with the fact of their marriage. Maybe it had nothing to do with the fact that Nicky needed a mother. But surely he could see that it would have been better for Dallas to have known it ahead of time.
Dallas squeezed her eyes tightly, wishing she could blot out the future as well as the past. Clay couldn't bring himself to sleep with her. He'd abandoned her at the party, and now… claiming it wasn't too late to have second thoughts about their marriage. After she'd given up her entire way of life at his bidding. She'd leave him to his memories of Alanna if that was what he wanted, but she wasn't leaving Nicky. Even if Alanna had been Clay's lover, she'd still wanted Dallas to care for Nicky.
Alanna, Dallas cried softly, how could you? The conversation with Mercedes Irving came back to her. Mercedes had made it plain that she'd broken her engagement with Clay to have an affair with Kyle. Was that why Clay and Alanna had turned to each other? Two lonely people spurned by those they'd loved? Two healthy, attractive people living in the same house, one a jilted bachelor, the other a wife who must have found life insupportable with an abusive husband. Alanna had refused to leave Kyle because of Nicky. Next to Kyle's crippled mind and body, had Clay's blatant masculinity proved too tempting for Alanna to resist so that she had sought comfort in Clay's arms? Alanna had always had such a need to be loved. Drawn by thoughts of her cousin, Dallas tossed aside her covers and reached for her bathrobe, then padded down the corridor.
The bedroom had been shared by Alanna and Kyle, but Alanna's was the personality imprinted on it. A dozen photos framed in silver and brass covered the bureau top. There was a picture of Alanna and Kyle on their wedding-day and a picture of Kyle in front of his jet. The rest were pictures of Alanna with Nicky or Dallas. Dallas picked up one such photo. Taken years earlier, it showed she and Alanna standing in front of the White House, Alanna's arm around the younger girl. Another photo showed D
allas helping Alanna get dressed for the wedding. Dallas's mother had suggested that Dallas might be too young to be maid of honour, but Alanna had insisted. A tear fell on her hand. Here they were on the beach in Florida when Kyle had been stationed there. Alanna was making faces for the camera, but nothing could detract from her beauty. Another portrayed Alanna holding Nicky, love for her baby illuminating Alanna's face.
Dallas sniffed and looked around for a tissue. Clay handed her a large handkerchief. 'Where did you come from?' she asked.
'I was looking for you.'
Dallas blew her nose. 'Why? What do you want?'
'Nothing. I was concerned about you. I know the party upset you.' He looked at the pictures. 'Alanna really loved you and Nicky.' He picked up a photo. 'Why do you punish yourself by coming in here? Wishing won't bring Alanna back.'
'I know,' Dallas said, her voice muffled by his handkerchief.
'Poor baby.' Clay's voice was unexpectedly tender. 'You did have a miserable time tonight, didn't you? If you could see yourself…puffy eyes, red nose, and,' he bent his head, 'I have this uncontrollable urge to kiss you.'
The kiss was a gentle one, the barest hint of his lips pressing against hers. Dallas swayed beneath the impact. Clay immediately slid his hands from her shoulders and linked them behind her waist. He was holding her so loosely that she could have stepped from his embrace. Her every instinct warned her to flee, but her legs seemed to have forgotten how to move. She was hurt and bewildered and in need of comfort. Suddenly the past didn't matter. What mattered was that Clay's arms offered solace. Like a child, she huddled against him.
Clay pressed a small kiss in the corner of her mouth, and then his lips were exploring her entire face. 'You have salty cheeks,' he said. His tongue rasped against the sensitive skin below her ear and traced her chin-line.
Dallas turned her head, searching for his mouth, but he had found the pulse at the base of her neck and was pressing his lips against the wild beat. She felt light-headed and trembly and warm and tingling. Clay abandoned her neck and she opened her mouth to protest, only to moan with pleasure when his warm tongue slipped between her parted lips. She slid her hands downward and unbuttoned his shirt so she could explore his chest. His skin was warm and satiny, while his crinkly hairs tantalised the skin of her palms. The urge to feel those same sensations against her own chest grew within her.
Clay was a mind-reader. He began to slide the heavy robe from her shoulders. Then stopped. 'Not here,' he said in a hoarse voice, and swept her up into his arms.
The covers on her bed were still tossed back and the bed's bottom sheet was freezing when Clay laid her down. Dallas shivered from the loss of Clay's body heat. 'It's cold,' she said, bewildered by the storm of conflicting emotions that battled within her.
'I'd like to stay.' Clay's eyes were dark and enigmatic.
Dallas hesitated. Clay was perfectly capable of persuading her to do his bidding, but instead he was holding back, insisting that she make her own choice. His forbearance irritated her. She didn't want to think—she only wanted to feel.
At her lack of response, Clay straightened up and whisked the covers over her chilled legs. One hand lightly touched her shoulder. 'Goodnight.'
Suddenly Dallas couldn't bear the thought of his leaving her. Arguments against deepening their marriage were forgotten. Weren't they husband and wife? He was right. Whatever had taken place in the past had nothing to do with them. Not now. She caught at the hand that lingered on her shoulder. 'Stay.'
'Are you sure?' He leaned over the bed, one hand playing with the belt of her robe.
Dallas could scarcely breathe, much less answer. She trailed her fingers over his hand and then pressed his fingers to the belt's knot. 'I—I…yes.' The mattress sagged beneath his weight, and then Clay spun her into a world of pleasure and sensation.
The sound of her bedroom door closing awakened Dallas. The room was dark with no hint of morning invading her windows. Dallas squinted at the clock on her bedside table. Three a.m. She didn't have to roll over and look to know that she was alone in bed. The room was chilly and she pulled up the blankets so that only her nose was exposed. Beneath the covers her body felt foreign to her. Last night had been one of discovery—of new sensations, desires, reactions. Clay had been a patient lover. She was the one who'd been impatient. Heat coursed through her body at the memory of Clay's hands, his mouth, his body. He'd teased her for being so eager. Had that driven him away? Apparently he couldn't leave her quickly enough.
She curled her arms around her chest in misery, self-doubt flooding over her. Had Clay slept with her because he felt obligated to perform his husbandly duties? Or as a substitute for Alanna? He'd turned out the lights before entering her bed. A despairing sob rose in her throat. In the dark had Clay pretended that Dallas was her cousin?
Let the past alone, he'd said. Naturally. That was in his best interests. Couldn't the same be said of her? Did it really matter if Clay had loved Alanna? It wasn't as if he and Dallas shared a love-match. What they shared was a love for a child and an earnest desire to give that child a happy home life.
Marriage had been the first step in providing for Nicky's future. Maybe Clay was right in stressing that Nicky needed more than two people living in the same house. Dallas moved restlessly beneath the blankets. She no longer knew who was right, what was right. Whatever Clay's motives for making love…no, she wouldn't call it that. Whatever his motives had been, she must view the night as a positive step towards building the kind of marriage that she knew was right for Nicky. No promises had been made that doing so would be easy.
Although it was Sunday, Clay was gone when Dallas finally climbed out of bed. She and Nicky were discussing Sunday school when the phone rang.
'Clay asked me to call you,' Sara said. 'There's a winter storm warning for this area, and he wants you and Nicky to stay home from church this morning.'
Dallas looked out of the window. There were only a few flakes drifting down. 'It doesn't look so bad.'
'Not now. But a blizzard can strike quickly in this part of the country. Clay left early for the Downer place. He didn't know when he'd get back.'
'Downer place?'
'Some land he leases about ten miles away. He wanted to check for any early calves and get them to the barn. If we do get a blizzard, they'd freeze.'
'You said he left early. How early?' Her heart almost stopped beating as she waited for Sara's answer.
'He was over here about six for breakfast, so I guess about six-thirty. He said he didn't want to wake you, that you'd been out late to the party. How was it? Clay didn't say much. To busy feeding his face.'
'It was nice. They have a nice house.' How long before Sara heard the truth? Dallas wondered as she hung up the phone. Clay's neighbours had probably had a field day ripping apart Dallas's morals after she'd left.
During the long day Clay's advice proved to be good. Low dark clouds rolled in from the north bringing colder temperatures and ever-increasing amounts of snow. The wind picked up, howling around the eaves of the house with lonely cries. Dallas played with Nicky and read to her, but her thoughts continually returned to the previous evening. Clay hadn't left for several hours after he'd departed her bed, proving that he'd hadn't left her bed because he was worried about the weather. What would he expect of her now that they'd slept together? No mention had been made of her moving into his bedroom or Clay moving into hers.
Nicky had long ago been put to bed by the time Clay returned. His eyes were rimmed with fatigue, his shoulders slumped in weariness, his heavy jacket coated with snow. He brought with him the cold winter air. Any idea of discussing the state of their marriage was instantly forgotten. 'Have you eaten?' Dallas asked.
Clay shrugged out of his coat. 'Took some sandwiches and coffee with me. Finished them off about three.'
'There's soup left. I can heat you up some.'
'Let me grab a quick shower first.'
Soup and a grilled cheese sandwich w
ere on the table when Clay came down to the kitchen. 'Looks good,' he said. He sat down and concentrated on the food.
The kitchen was a warm oasis from the shrieking winds outside. Blue-checked curtains, white wood cabinets, and an old-fashioned stove should have added up to a feeling of comfortable cosiness, but they didn't. Dallas watched Clay from beneath lowered eyelids. The scent of his soap reached her across the table. His gaze was fixed on his plate as he ate—as if he didn't want to look at her. Tension twisted her insides. Why didn't he say something? Even if he didn't want to talk about last night, he could make a comment about the weather, anything. The silence seemed to build in the room. 'Everything OK?' she finally asked.
Clay gave her a quick, questioning look.
'Out there. Sara said you were looking for calves.'
'Yeah. Found a few. One cow who'd just calved was in a bad way, and we had to haul her in and sew her up. I think she'll be OK.' He shoved aside his plate. 'Thanks. That hit the spot. Now, if you'll excuse me,' he stood up, 'I think I'll hit the sack. I'm beat.'
Dallas slowly gathered up his dirty dishes. Clay's behaviour could be interpreted only one way. He was sorry that last night had ever taken place. Obviously he had no intention of discussing it. She slammed shut the dishwasher door. It would be a cold day in hell before she brought it up.
Clay was in the kitchen having coffee the next morning when she came downstairs.
'I'll drive Nicky to the bus,' he said. 'The snow has stopped, but the roads are pretty tricky.'
'But I was going to Walsenburg. My wallpaper's in.'
'Jim is going to pick up some more grain cake for the cattle. He can run your errands,' Clay said.
'All right.' Dallas hoped her disappointment didn't show on her face. The day stretched endlessly before her.
Clay was watching her over his mug. 'Big plans in town?'
'No. Just something to do.' She paused. 'It's silly to have Sara come over every day. I can do the household chores and cook dinner.'
