“I would have thought the mile long hike would have scared any femme fatale off.” Nyssa smiled skeptically. “You’ve never complained before.”
“You understand what’s at stake. My career, my reputation. I’ve planned a two month expedition to Alaska and yes, I need an assistant, but I need someone who knows what to do outside a sleeping bag. You’re the only one I know of who fits all my requirements.”
“But you wouldn’t say no to another woman who could do both, now would you? Perhaps your grandfather understands you better than you do yourself.”
“Do you intend to fling more accusations at me or will you help me.”
“Short of going with you there’s nothing I can do,” she said. “If you’re really that desperate, print a retraction.”
“I’ve tried.”
“How hard? And I know what you think. You’ve given up haven’t you? If your grandfather’s behind the ad, he’s made sure no retraction will be printed.”
Solo pulled her hands into his and gave her his most pathetic look. “You have to solve my problem for me. Please come with me. You won’t regret going with me.”
That line wasn’t new. “I can’t.” Nyssa tugged her hands away. Even though her heart told her to accept his deplorable last time offer, her mind screamed at her. No.
“Why not? Because Robert will object?”
With more conviction than she felt, she said. “Yes. What Robert thinks is important. Even though he’s never told me what to do, he wouldn’t like me running off to Alaska with you. Pick one of your willing, eager, able women and go do what you do best. Your grandfather will be pleased.”
“I won’t let anyone of those ladies near me.” He shuddered.
Wonderful, she thought before she could stop herself. Wasn’t this what she wanted? Solo to leave her alone? The only way that would come about was if he found someone he could love. As for her, she’d marry Robert and settle down. No more adventures.
“You have to accept facts. Everything has changed.”
He squeezed her hands gently. “You could help, Nyssa, but you’re afraid.”
She wished he’d stop putting emotions in her head. His perceptions were always right and it was disconcerting. Plus, he made her want to prove him wrong. But she could hardly stop him. Short of revealing even more truths about herself, it was prudent to keep her eyes shuttered and her mouth closed. In a few more minutes, he’d guess that she did like his hands holding hers, and she wanted nothing more than to go with him.
Think of Robert. He makes you happy. Robert’s safe.
But safe, conservative Robert would never be so forward, would never presume she’d forego her plans to run away on an adventure. And conservative Robert would never make her tremble and make her pulse roar in her ears.
Concentrating on a mental image of Robert helped. The picture gave her the courage to take her hand back and fill both with boxes of bike gloves from the shop.
“I’m not afraid.” She recognized the lie and felt the heat of her blush rush to her cheeks. “I don’t have any advice for you.” She let the items she’d picked up fall to the counter as she scooted around to the opposite side away from Solo. Protected, she folded her hands on top of the counter then she gave him what she hoped was a determined look. “If I were you, I would pick up the phone and order the Colonel to print a retraction in tomorrow’s paper.”
“That wouldn’t help me out tonight. I’m afraid to go home because one of them might have found my cabin. Besides, I already tried to call him and he’s vanished.”
“You gave up.”
He shook his head again, gazing down at Nyssa in confusion. “You don’t believe that?”
“Solo, you’ve got to face reality.” Rather than look at him she straightened the items, placed them in alphabetical order before stacking them nonsensically. “I’m sorry but you may have to live with this until you leave for Alaska.”
“You don’t have to hit me over the head. I get the message. Our friendship doesn’t mean to you what it means to me.”
His features were drawn back tight and he didn’t look happy. When he shot her a last silent plea before he slipped out the door, she thought, he really did look hurt.
When the little bell over the shop door stopped ringing, she slumped down on the chair behind the cash register thoroughly relieved. She couldn’t help herself. Disaster in the shape of Solo St. John and his overpowering hold on her life had been discouraged one more time.
Well, you’ve got what you wanted. He just walked out the door and it doesn’t appear as if he’s ever coming back.
So why did she feel the best friend she’d ever had just left her for good.
***
The sound of clicking knitting needles hung in the cinnamon spiced air.
"I'm knitting a baby blanket," Sarah St. John said. Nyssa called her Grams because Solo did.
"Baby blanket?" Nyssa questioned, wrinkling up her forehead in a frown of perplexity.
"I want to be prepared when the event happens," Grams said softly with a little smile creasing her face.
"Solo is planning a baby? Did I miss something? Like a wedding?"
"No," Grams slanted Nyssa another hint of a smile, one that held a great deal of mischief if Nyssa could believe that of Solo's grandmother.
"Well, I guess you can't be too prepared," Nyssa muttered, shaking her head. She felt the hollow, empty lump inside her grow to gigantic proportions. She couldn't--no she wouldn't think of Solo married and with children--her Solo. She knew the time would come, but she wouldn't ever be ready for it.
"How is your, Robert?" The knitting needles paused. Grams stared at her waiting for an answer.
"My Robert?" Nyssa cleared her throat. "He's saving the world one small step at a time."
"Oh, really? How is he accomplishing this magnificent feat?"
"He is prosecuting the men responsible for the collapse of our economy. You know, the CEO who received a 5 million dollar golden parachute as a reward for his failure. Can you believe that? Five million dollars and he helped run the country into bankruptcy."
"All by himself?"
"He's not the only one…" Nyssa's voice faded away as her thoughts ran to her own part in the company's failure.
"Is that why you left that great job in New York? The corrupt CEO's?"
"Nyssa rubbed the tense muscles on the back of her neck, wondering just how much she wanted to tell Grams.
"Yes," she said slowly. "In part. I don't like the greed and the dishonesty. I was going to testify. I received death threats. My cat was killed…"
"Oh, my!"
"Oh my is right. I testified and my doctor told me I had to get away. My health was deteriorating and I spent all my waking hours looking over my shoulder, knowing I could be murdered at any minute."
"Get away?" Grams parroted.
"For my health, I decided I wasn't going back--ever."
The needles made soft cliking sounds. When Grams pulled on the yarn the ball rolled across the floor. Her calico kitty pounced. Silence pooled in the her gut then settled in her heart.
"Do you love him, Robert?"
"I…"
"You've got to be sure. Marriage is forever. Do you love him?" Grams persisted.
"Of course, I love him."
"That's odd. I could have sworn you loved, Solo."
"We're too different."
"Balderdash."
"Grams."
"The only think you don't love about Solo is his money."
"There is that," Nyssa admitted. "Really, it's not fair for you to invite me here and then question my motives or my love for Robert. Even if I told you I loved Solo, I'm not an empty headed bimbo."
"He only dates women like that because he doesn't think he can love you or that you will have him. You've always set such a high standard."
"I've never heard anything so crazy."
***
“I don't like your buddy Solo St. John. Why is he hangin
g around and what does he want from you? He has money…" Robert's voice faded.
“Do you know what you implied?” She tried to keep the doubt from her voice. “Do you want a wife or a trophy? I thought we understood each other but now I’m not sure I even know you.”
“I’m sorry. It's just that I'm suspicious of everyone like your Solo.” Robert pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “I didn’t think you wanted to ever see him again. I thought we shared a common purpose. You have to consider all the little idiosyncrasies of marriage and the sacrifices we’ll each have to make. You know what the tabloids would do to me if they saw you with him.”
Nyssa shot to her feet, bumping the coffee table in front of her. “I haven’t heard one sacrifice you’re willing to make. But I haven’t asked you to change your life or to give up on your dreams.”
“Sweetheart, relax. I don't want you to give up anything except St. John. He represents everything and everyone I'm fighting against. He has more money than a lot of the men we're trying to put behind bars.” Robert encouraged her with a smile and a shrug of his shoulders.
Nyssa tried to calm down. She knew he wanted to make her happy and as usual Robert had been right. She didn’t want him to sacrifice what he believed in because she couldn't say no to Solo. Yet she knew Solo would always be a part of her life. There had to be a compromise in this somewhere, but she couldn’t figure out where. No matter how she looked at the problem, she was the one who always gave in. Yet he was the one with his reputation on the line.
“I'm just asking you to be discreet. There is a higher cause.”
“I know, but I left New York so I could be free. And now it seems, I've fallen back into the same scenarios. I know it's not the same but Robert, I just don't know if I can do this again. I don't want to have to always be looking over my shoulder.” She was acting obtuse now and she didn’t like the feeling but--but what?
If only Robert didn’t always have an answer for everything, an answer that made sense, maybe she could calm down. But she didn’t want to calm down, not when her emotions were in turmoil.
“I have waited so long to have my day and to see these men get what they deserve. I don't want my case undermined in any way ."He gave her a smile that should have made her feel better. But it didn’t. It made her feel pretty darn low and very small-minded.
“I’d like to get this taken care of before we’re married. One less thing to do and all,” Robert said.
“But the wedding is a long ways off. I feel as if I'm losing a part of myself..”
Robert looked away. "It's only for a few more months."
“No it isn't. It's a lifetime. Neither one of us is going to change. I don't want to change you, Robert. I believe in what you are working for with all my heart. I just don't have the energy to be part of that.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. I guess I forgot about you.” His smile was firm.
Nyssa chewed her fingernail, a habit she’d thought she’d given up when she moved back. “Thank you, I think, but I'm not sure where we are going to go from here.”
“Let's just take one day at a time--and agree to always talk to each other--honesty, you know. Let's not ever lie about our feelings." Robert told her in an even unhurried tone. “Plans for the wedding--your tours--it will be the most hectic year of your life. I want you to have help.”
“I don’t want help. If my life will be more hectic than what I endured in New York, I don’t want any part of the wedding.”
“If you like, we can hire a wedding planner.”
“But...”
“Trust me. It will all turn out fine.” His teeth flashed white. The bright grin was the one he used when he wanted to win over the people.
“Robert--”
He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I have to go. I’m meeting mother. She’ll have the guest list. Smile, it should have a hundred people we can cut.”
She groaned. “I thought we agreed on a small wedding,” she tried for a light tone, but she sounded a little bitter.
“Sorry, sweetheart. She knows all the old timers in Bend and most of the new arrivals. Mother didn’t want to offend anyone.” He hugged her close and gave her a little peck on the forehead.
“They’d forget about the slight in a couple of months.”
“I know you didn’t mean that. Love you. I’ll call. Let you know all the details.” The door closed on his last words. Robert was gone, vanished in a whirlwind that reminded her of all the times she'd rather forget.
Nyssa lowered herself to the couch then let her head fall into her hands. She massaged her temples in a fervent attempt to stop the headache that was ready to explode.
Tonight with Robert was like a nightmare. She felt petty when they argued over his campaign and all he wanted to accomplish. Guilt swept through her. She was being selfish. If that wasn’t enough, she felt terrible about leaving for a tour one month before the wedding date. But she’d already agreed to the trip in Greece, agreed months before he asked her to marry him. She had done research, booking the hotels and inns. She had pedaled the entire journey and made sure the distance and the terrain each day would never be too much for the cyclists. During her lunch hours, she’d poured over volumes on Greek history so she’d have interesting trivia to tell the group. Damn, damn, and double damn.
Robert had his life mapped out. Sometimes she wasn't sure if there was room for her. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she wanted to be part of his life and his dreams.
The effect of her calming speech lasted less than a minute. “I'm going to be a good wife.” She threw her armful of clothes onto her bed. “I’m a coward, a slob, an exercise nut--and can’t forget a man I have no future with. How am I ever going to change when I don't want to change?”
She fell into bed and pulled a huge quilt over her. And then the telephone rang, the sound muffled by the quilt over her head.
“If that’s Robert, being nice to me again, I’m going to scream.” She shifted to grab the phone before the answering machine switched on. “I don’t want nice, and forgiving, and perfect. Robert I...”
“Hellooo...” a deep, sexy voice wafted over the phone lines. “Are you asleep?”
She stopped breathing. A gasp of delight caught in her throat.
“Solo.”
She felt very insecure, and the sound of his familiar voice in her ear made her senses respond wildly.
Solo--her security. She was used to him, his laugh, his warmth, and he would never run for office. He just wanted his adventures.
Her one romantic fantasy--he would rescue her from all her nightmares and carry her off on his white horse to his castle in the clouds where they’d live forever on adventure and romance.
Except her dreams were fiction and Solo would never see her as anything but his buddy. She’d have to rescue herself.
Nonetheless, she cuddled in deeper, cradling the phone against her shoulder, and continued to pretend.
“I’m glad you’re home.” Her fantasy got better.
Safari Moon Page 5
