by Jeanne Allan
Dallas hastily stepped back out of his reach. 'No. That is, I can handle them, I brought a bag with an apple and a Thermos of water. It's hanging on the saddle-horn. I can put the books in that. After I give Molly the apple, that is.' She was babbling. 'You don't need to wait for me. Molly will find her way back. Jim said so.' Her voice dried up at the cynical look on Clay's face.
'Why do I get the impression you want to get rid of me?'
'Don't be ridiculous.' Her nose in the air, she sailed past him through the open doorway.
'I'd hate to think I barged in when you were expecting someone else.'
Dallas turned from feeding Molly the apple sections and stared at him as he shot the bolt in place. 'That's absurd. Who would I be meeting? Jim?' She giggled at the thought. 'Sara would rip his head off. And, in case you haven't heard, Loren only has eyes for that red-headed waitress at the cafe in town.'
Clay came around Molly and put one hand on the saddle-horn and one on the back of the saddle, pinning Dallas between him and the horse. 'And you, Mrs Dalton… who do you have eyes for?' He reached down and brushed a tendril of hair from her face.
Dallas swallowed hard at the seductive tone of Clay's voice. 'No one.' She pressed against Molly and the horse stamped her feet impatiently. 'We'd better go.'
'What's your hurry?'
'You said it yourself—I've been gone a long time. People will worry.'
Clay's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'You seem awfully anxious to get away from this cabin. Why is that?'
Dallas gave a loud sigh of exasperation and ducked under Clay's arm before he could stop her. At the cabin door, she turned and tapped her foot on the porch boards. 'All right. Open the door. We'll go inside and sit there until you're satisfied that I did not intend to meet any one here. I didn't even know this cabin was here.'
'Then how did you find it?' He rested his forearms on Molly's saddle and spoke to Dallas over the mare's back.
'I didn't find it. Molly did. I suppose she smelled the hay buried under the snow there. Anyway, she walked right up to it.' Clay continued to stare in her direction, but Dallas had the feeling that he wasn't seeing her.
Finally he gave a slight nod. Untying Molly's reins, he led her forward. 'Come on. Let's get back. It's almost time for you to meet the school bus.'
Dallas made no move to do his bidding. She stood with her fists braced on her hips. 'That's it? No apology for making ridiculous accusations?'
Clay pushed his hat to the back of his head. 'You know what, Dallas? You drive me crazy.'
Before she could grasp his intention, he jumped up on the porch and swept her into his arms. 'Put me down,' she ordered.
Molly was standing beside the porch, and Clay dumped Dallas into the saddle. The unceremonious action startled Dallas and she would have fallen from the horse if Clay hadn't steadied her. 'I can see how much your riding has improved,' he said.
Dallas ignored his mocking words, giving Molly a nudge. The horse obediently started off. The ride back to the ranch was accomplished in silence. Dallas was determined to prove to Clay that she wasn't a total failure on a horse. At the corral she successfully dismounted and turned to Clay. He was still astride his horse, the afternoon sun silhouetting his head and preventing her from seeing his face. 'Well?' she demanded, waiting for an acknowledgement of her improved skills.
'What did you take from the cabin?'
Dallas gasped. 'Books. You said it was OK.'
'Besides the books. What was it you didn't want me to see?'
She started to deny his accusations and then changed her mind. Flinging her head up, she stared at him defiantly. 'Alanna's diary.'
'I thought it must be something like that, as skittish as you were.' Dismounting, he lifted the bag from her saddle.
'Give it back,' Dallas said, reaching out with her hand.
Clay dug into the bag and pulled out the leather-bound book. 'I didn't know Alanna kept a diary.'
'Not every night. She wrote down things important to her.'
Clay turned the book over in his hands, a frown wrinkling his brow. 'I hope you're not planning on reading this,' he finally said. 'It would be a mistake. Leave the past alone.'
'There might be things in there I should know. About Nicky.' She eyed him defiantly, knowing he'd see through the fragile cloak of deception she'd woven to cover her intent.
Clay's eyes filled with a resignation tinged with sadness. 'Whatever Alanna needed, was looking for, it doesn't matter now. She's at peace. Let her stay that way.'
She knew Clay was right, but she was driven by an inner compulsion to know the truth. 'I would never do anything that hurt Alanna.'
'Are you sure the reverse is true?' Clay draped the bag over her outstretched arm. With a sigh, he brushed his hand across her cheek. 'I hate to see you get hurt.'
Hours later Dallas threw the diary across the room. If Clay didn't want to see her hurt, he shouldn't have returned it to her. No, she couldn't blame Clay. He hadn't been the least bit fooled by her lame excuse that she needed to read it for Nicky's sake. He'd tried to dissuade her, but a runaway freight train would have been easier to stop. And now her stubborn perversity had received its unwelcome reward. The diary provided startling confirmation that Clay and Alanna had been lovers. Dallas blinked away hot tears. What a fool she was. She could no longer deceive herself. In spite of all evidence to the contrary, she'd hoped that the diary would prove that Clay and Alanna meant nothing to each other. Instead Alanna's words were inscribed on Dallas's mind with indelible ink.
'I know Kyle is having an affair with that woman,' Alanna had written. 'But I'll not give him the satisfaction of finding out I know. I'll show him that he can't put me aside as if I were nobody.' Later she'd planned her revenge. 'There is no one I could take for a lover who would anger and upset Kyle more. What's more, I swear he's willing although he's said nothing. It will be up to me to prod him along.' An entry made weeks later proved that the man had, indeed, been willing. 'I started this affair for revenge,' read Alanna's words. 'How diverting to discover that I'm beginning to care for this man. Maybe because he's so obviously in love with me. Such devotion disarms me. Even to you, dear diary, I won't name him. But I must call him something. D.P. Yes, dearest D.P. Kyle would be furious if he found out. Once I wanted him to discover us. I dreamt of being naked in my lover's arms and Kyle charging into the cabin. No longer. I must think of D.P. Kyle would destroy him and take Nicky from me. I can't risk that. I must have both Nicky and D.P. I can hear him coming now, and I know that his dark blue eyes will be burning with passion for me.'
Dallas read no further. At first the initials D.P. had confused her. Alanna couldn't mean Clay. Then she'd realised that Alanna wouldn't have given the man's true initials. And with that realisation had come the truth. D.P. Alanna's code was pathetically simple. She'd merely reversed the initials. D.P. was really P.D. There were two P.D.s on the Dalton ranch. One was Peter Dalton, the father of Clay and Kyle. Dallas had considered him momentarily, but Peter's eyes were a faded blue. Alanna would never have written that Peter's eyes were dark blue with passion. That left one other. In her mind's eye Dallas could see Clay signing their marriage certificate: Clay Peter Dalton. Named for his father. Clay with dark blue eyes. Eyes that Dallas had seen burning with passion. For her. As a substitute for his dead lover.
No wonder Clay had warned her against reading the diary. The cabin had been his and Alanna's love-nest. Alanna must have ridden Molly there numerous times. Molly hadn't smelled the hay—she'd remembered it. And Clay… Accusing her of arranging to meet someone there had been his own conscience acting up.
If a conscience he had. Pacing the length of the room, Dallas kicked the diary angrily, and it skittered beneath her bed. Let it lie there. She had no desire to read any further. Once she'd wished that Clay would admit his relationship with Alanna. How naive to believe that knowing he'd loved Alanna would bring them closer. What kind of man made love to his brother's wife? The thought of such a man making love to her
made her feel unclean. And betrayed.
'Still up?'
Dallas froze. Striving to bring her heaving emotions under control, she slowly turned. Clay was in her doorway, leaning against the door-jamb, the casual pose belied by the intensity with which he studied her face. 'I read the diary,' she said.
'So I see. I warned you.'
She drew a ragged breath. 'Why didn't you get rid of it?'
'I would have if I'd known about it.' He jammed his hands into his pockets. 'I suppose she wrote down everything.'
Dallas could barely nod her head. How could he sound so unconcerned?
'I'm sorry,' Clay said. 'I thought it better if you didn't find out.' He straightened up and walked into the room, eyeing her warily. One hand reached out and wiped moisture from her cheek. 'I know you're upset. Would you like me to stay?'
Dallas jerked her head away. 'Don't touch me.'
Clay's body went still. 'I see. Alanna mentioned me.'
Dallas turned away, her throat clogged with tears. 'Did you truly expect her not to?'
'No. I guess not.' He paused in the open doorway. 'I suggest you burn that damned diary.'
'Burning it changes nothing.'
'I know you need some time to deal with this, Dallas. But think about a couple of things. The past is over. Our marriage isn't.' He paused. 'Unless you want it to be?'
'Do you?' she cried.
'Nothing has changed as far as I'm concerned. Nicky still needs to be part of a loving family. I think I can give her that. Can you?' He walked out of the room.
His words had been almost an accusation, as if she were the guilty party. Dallas glared at the empty doorway. How could she simply forget the whole affair? If only she'd listened to Clay and not read the diary. In time she could have convinced herself that Clay wouldn't have carried on an affair with, his brother's wife right under Kyle's nose.
She paced the length of her bedroom floor. She thought she had known her cousin, and yet the diary proved that Alanna had set out to ensnare Clay for her own nefarious purposes. Alanna had had such a need to be loved. The discovery that her husband had supplanted her with another must have devastated her. Dallas threw herself on to her bed. Why hadn't Alanna just left Kyle? Why drag Clay into her web of deceit? Alanna had been a beautiful, desirable woman. No man could have resisted her siren song of loveliness. No, that wasn't true. A man with integrity would have resisted. Dallas wiped away the tears streaming down her face with an impatient hand. She couldn't excuse Clay.
But that wasn't the issue. Could she stay married to him? Lying on the bed, she clenched her fists at her sides. Impossible. She'd tell Clay… Suddenly his last words hit her like a ton of bricks. Nicky needed them. Both of them. Dallas rolled over and buried her face in her pillows. Clay was right—nothing had changed. She had married Clay to provide Nicky with a loving home. No promises had been made that she and Clay would ever share more than a concern for the child. Only her foolishness had led her to hope that time would bring, if not love, at least mutual respect.
Sitting up, Dallas wiped away her tears. For the last time. No longer would she cry for the cousin who'd deceived her. No longer would she cry over a marriage that represented nothing more than obligation and responsibility. She loved Nicky. She'd continue with the marriage for her sake. As for Clay…she swallowed hard. She'd uphold her end of the bargain. Maybe in time the sense of betrayal would ease.
Clay's prompt response to her knock proved that he was also unable to sleep. A strange light flared in his eyes, and Dallas tightened the belt of her chenille robe. His eyes turned opaque. 'I take it you've reached a decision,' he said.
'I'm staying, but…' Clay was standing too close. He'd shaved before dinner and the scent of his aftershave still perfumed the air. His terry robe was loosely belted, exposing his chest. To put some distance between them, she walked into the room. A mistake. The covers on Clay's bed were thrown back, invitingly, as if he'd been lying there.
'But?'
She spun about at Clay's question. For a moment she was unable to comprehend his meaning and then, with sheer will-power, she gathered her scattered thoughts. 'I—I would prefer that we—we didn't… for a while…'
Clay closed the space between them. Holding her chin up for his scrutiny, he said, 'I take it a cessation of marital relations is to be my punishment.'
Her skin burned beneath his touch. 'No. That is… not forever. I just need a little time.' Dallas was disgusted to realise that it sounded as if she was pleading with him, and she hardened her voice. 'Considering everything, I don't think I'm asking so much. But maybe asking you to be celibate for a short period of time is beyond your capabilities.'
Clay dropped his hand as if she'd burned him. 'You've made your point.' Turning from her, he walked over to the end of his bed. 'When do you think you'll let me out of the dog-house?'
'How dare you make a mockery of this?'
'Damn it, Dallas, I don't need you to tell me how I ought to feel.' His knuckles were white as he clenched the bedpost. 'If I live to be one hundred, I'll never forget the look on Kyle's face when he walked in and saw us.'
'Kyle saw you?' Dallas gasped in horror.
'Yes. I tried to explain, but he brushed me off. That was the night of the accident. I never had a chance to set the record straight with him.'
'You think you could? Alanna was his wife!'
'And you're mine.' Clay turned to face her. 'Apparently your marriage vows mean nothing to you.'
The irony of his accusation left her momentarily speechless. 'You're despicable!' she finally choked out.
Clay grabbed her arm, halting her flight from his room. 'I'll leave you alone for the present because I know the diary has upset you.'
'Upset!'
'But I warn you,' his hand tightened, 'don't try my patience too far.'
Dallas tried to jerk loose of his grasp—in vain. Clay meant her to know that he was in control. She ceased struggling and stared daggers at him. 'And if I do?'
His smile was not pleasant. 'I don't really think that's a problem, do you?'
'What does that mean?'
Clay gripped her other arm, forcing her to stand directly in front of him. 'It means, dear wife, that I'm well aware that banning me from your bed punishes you as much as me.'
'Hardly.'
'Liar.'
The soft-spoken word failed to warn Dallas of Clay's intentions. He yanked her up against his chest, his mouth swallowing her cry of outrage. She beat at his chest with her fists, but iron bands, one around her shoulders, one around her waist, held her captive. Suddenly her flailing hands struck warm skin. Her struggles had further parted Clay's robe. The temptation to flatten her palms and slide them over his skin was her undoing. His heart thudded wildly beneath her touch and her resistance ebbed.
Immediately Clay's lips, which had been forceful and demanding, softened. Little kisses, like tiny suction cups, pulled at the surface of her lips as Clay teased the perimeters of her mouth before blazing a fiery trail along her jawbone to beneath her ear. Dallas could no longer think, only feel, as he nibbled on her sensitive ear-lobe and then outlined the contours of her ear with his warm, moist tongue. Blood pulsed thunderously in her ears and ran riot through her veins, driving heat and desire before it. Her breasts swelled with need, and she swept aside the edges of Clay's robe and encircled his bare back with her hands, pressing her chest up against the strength of his. He'd found his way inside her robe and her flannel gown proved a flimsy barrier between her skin and his warm, stroking hands. His lips recaptured hers, and she met his thrusting tongue with fevered haste.
Clay lifted his head and slowly withdrew his hands from her robe, brushing his flat palms against the taut tips of her breasts. His touch elicited an involuntary gasp of pleasure from Dallas. He dropped his hands, a self-satisfied expression on his face. 'You may not like me, but you sure as hell desire me.'
His arrogant taunt stiffened her spine. 'All right. I admit that you are very ade
pt at arousing and satisfying my physical urges.' She paused in his doorway for her parting shot. 'Does that gratify you? To know that a woman cares nothing about your mind, your personality, your soul—that all she's interested in is your body? That puts you on about the same level as an attractive toy.'
It said something for Clay's self-control that she was still alive, Dallas conceded several days later as she scraped old wallpaper from the dining-room walls. If the look on his face had been any indication, nothing would have given him greater pleasure than strangling her. She'd meant to anger him. Anything to shatter his gloating attitude and wipe the smirk from his face. The memory gave angry impetus to her movements. It would have been useless to deny that he'd affected her. He wasn't stupid. She only hoped his night had been as sleepless and tormented as hers.
Her arms ached and she leaned on the top rung of the ladder to rest a moment. Her marriage was either a tragedy or a farce. Since their angry words, she and Clay had maintained an unspoken, wary truce around each other. Judging by the raised eyebrows and cautious comments, they were deceiving no one on the ranch. Except Nicky. Nicky, at least, was content and secure in their love. And surely that was what mattered.
With a sigh, Dallas straightened up and attacked the wall once more. One advantage of a succession of Mrs Daltons all afraid to disturb the family shrine was that only one layer of paper had to be removed before hanging the new paper. Yesterday her furniture had arrived and been partially distributed through the house. A week ago that action would have cheered her. Today it hardly mattered. New paint and pretty wallpaper didn't make a home. Only love could make a home.
'The way you're going at that wall I can't decide if you're trying to remove wallpaper or tunnel your way out.'
The unexpected comment startled Dallas and she clutched at the ladder to steady herself. 'Must you sneak up on me?'
Clay strolled into the room. 'You sure are making a mess. Do you have any idea what you're doing?'
'I'm overwhelmed by your confidence in me.'
'You do have a tendency to tackle jobs that are beyond your capabilities,' Clay said.
