The Gentling

by Ginna Gray

  "Oh, Trace. Aren't they gorgeous," she breathed ecstatically, when they stopped in front of the first display. "Just look at those colors. They haven't faded a bit, even after all these years."

  "Very impressive," Trace agreed. "But then, they ought to be. Those things were handmade from feathers of exotic birds which are now extinct. And since each bird produced only one feather that was considered brilliant enough for a chiefs garment, it took years just to complete one robe." "How do you know that?"

  "Oh, I read it somewhere," he said with an air of off-handed superiority. Then his eyes twinkled. "I think it was in one of those brochures the hotel provides."

  "Oh, you!" Katy gave him a sharp poke in the ribs. "And there I was, all set to be impressed with your vast store of knowledge."

  Laughing, Trace flung his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the next display.

  The casual embrace was something he did often. No matter where they were or what they were doing, he always managed to touch her in some way. If his arm wasn't draped across her shoulders or hooked around her waist, his hand was tunneled under the heavy fall of ebony hair and curved around her nape, his fingers absently massaging the tight muscles.

  At first the constant contact made Katy nervous, but after a few days she became resigned to it. By the end of the first week, the feel of his arm around her seemed the most natural thing in the world.

  They spent several days driving around the island, exploring remote beaches, visiting extinct volcanoes, orchid nurseries, and pineapple and sugar plantations. On one of their trips they stopped to picnic at Makaha, better known as Surfer's Paradise, and watched in awe as muscled young men on surfboards rode the forty-foot waves in to shore.

  Every evening they ate at a different restaurant in order to sample the wide variety of ethnic cuisine the islands offered. After dinner they either enjoyed Honolulu's fantastic nightlife or went for long walks on the beach. Rarely did they return to their suite before midnight. But no matter how late the hour, each night when they relaxed in the king-sized bed, Trace gathered Katy into his arms and made gentle, persuasive love to her.

  Knowing that she had only to give the slightest sign of resistance and Trace would stop, Katy did not panic when his caresses gradually became more and more intimate. By the end of their stay, though she still had no intention of allowing him to consummate the marriage, Katy could no longer deny that she enjoyed Trace's lovemaking.

  On the morning of their departure, while Trace had gone down to the lobby to settle their bill, Katy gathered up their last minute articles and added them to the cases she had packed the night before. She took one last look around the suite for anything she may have missed, then closed the cases and snapped the locks shut.

  Restless, with nothing more to keep her occupied, she slid open the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. Her eyes were sad as she leaned against the railing and gazed down at the beach. At this early hour there were only a few heads bobbing in the blue water.

  Katy sighed. How she hated to leave. Their stay had been ideal—a period out of time when the problems facing them seemed far removed. As she thought back over the last two weeks, a small, self-derisive smile tugged at her mouth. Well, it had been ideal from her point of view at any rate. She doubted that Trace would describe their rather unorthodox honeymoon in quite the same way.

  But in any case, it was over now and reality was about to intrude. Katy had the uneasy feeling that it was going to be much more difficult to keep her husband at arm's length once they returned to the farm.

  The soft swish of the sliding door alerted her to Trace's presence, and Katy cast a quick glance over her shoulder. A wan smile of greeting flickered over her face before her gaze returned to the horizon.

  "Feeling sad about leaving?" Trace asked perceptively. Stepping up behind her, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  The blue of sky and ocean merged into a wavy blur as her eyes suddenly welled with tears. "I guess so," she replied in a wavering voice. Katy swallowed hard on the lump that rose in her throat. Good Lord! Why was she behaving so emotionally? Anyone would think she was a starry-eyed bride who couldn't bear for her honeymoon to end!

  A low rumble of laughter vibrated against her back. "Well, as much as I'd love to just stay here and enjoy the lotus-eating life with you, I'm afraid I have a horse farm to run." Trace bent his head and pressed a feathery kiss against her temple. "But don't worry, sweetheart, we'll come back someday. In fact, I'll make you a promise right now that we'll return on our twenty-fifth anniversary for a second honeymoon."

  Katy turned within the circle of his arms and gave him a troubled look. "Oh, Trace. Do you honestly believe—"

  A sharp rap on the door cut her off and drew an impatient look from Trace.

  "That'll be the bellhop."

  Katy stared after him as he stepped back into the sitting room, her expression thoughtful. What were the chances of a platonic marriage surviving twenty-five years? Practically nil, she admitted to herself sadly. Especially when the husband was a passionate and virile man like Trace.

  Refusing to dwell on the tight knot of pain that twisted her stomach, Katy glanced at the ocean one last time, then resolutely stepped inside.

  ❧

  Her father was waiting for them at the Tyler airport when they arrived that evening. The despondent mood that had clung to her all day disappeared like a wisp of smoke at the first sight of his craggy face. When he grinned and opened his arms wide, Katy flung herself into them.

  "Oh, Dad, I'm so glad to see you!" she cried as he lifted her off the floor.

  "And it's glad I am to be seein' you, Katy darlin'," Tom replied huskily. For a moment he hugged her tightly against his chest, as though he could not bear to let her go, the big hand spread across her back patting her with rough tenderness. When he finally put her on her feet, he held her at arm's length. Tom's face beamed as he noted the healthy, sun-kissed skin and the happy sparkle in her blue eyes. "Well now. I'm thinkin' marriage agrees with you, Katy girl. You're more beautiful than ever."

  His gaze went beyond her to the man who stood waiting. The look on Tom's face spoke of admiration, respect, and fondness, but most of all, of a deep, profound gratitude. Releasing Katy, he stepped forward and held out his hand. "Welcome home, Trace," he said warmly.

  "Thanks, Tom. It's good to be back."

  All the way to the baggage claim section the two men talked business. Katy walked along between them, smiling contentedly. Her spirits seemed to rise a little with each step. Suddenly it felt very good to be home.

  When Trace left them to claim the luggage, Tom turned to his daughter with a questioning look. "Well, now. Tell me, Katy girl, was I right to trust that young man?"

  A faint twinge of pink swept over Katy's face. Her father had never once doubted Trace's integrity. "Yes, Dad. You were right. Trace is a man of his word, just as you claimed all along. I'm sorry I ever doubted you or him."

  "Don't worry about that, sweetheart. You had a perfect right to be apprehensive. The important thing is you're learning to trust him. That's absolutely essential if you're going to have a good marriage." Tom smiled gently and patted her arm. "Give him a chance, Katy girl. He loves you very much. He'll make you happy, if you'll let him."

  Katy's answering smile was wan. What did that mean? Did he want her to accept Trace as a husband, in the fullest sense of the word? Even knowing what he did?

  He was watching her intently, as though waiting for her reply, but Katy didn't know what to say. Her feelings for Trace had altered during the past two weeks. But not that much.

  Glancing over her father's shoulder, she was relieved to see that Trace had recovered their luggage and was striding toward them. He had a bag in each hand and two more under his arms. His powerful body showed no sign of being burdened by the load, but Tom quickly relieved him of two of the cases.

  "I'm parked right outside
," he said, nodding his head toward the exit doors. "We'll just load these into the trunk and be on our way. I'll have you home in two shakes."

  "Good," Trace replied, smiling warmly at Katy. "I'm anxious to get home and carry my bride over the threshold."

  Surprise widened Katy's eyes for just an instant. For a brief time she had forgotten that she would now be living in the big house. In the weeks prior to the wedding the problem of where they would live had seemed very minor, compared to all the other things that had been worrying her. Now it seemed to loom very large. The thought of living in the huge, pillared mansion filled her with apprehension. Katy wasn't at all sure she was capable of taking Saundra's place as mistress of Green Meadows. Or that she even wanted to.

  Tom was already walking toward the door and Trace moved to follow him. Two steps away he stopped and turned back to Katy, a questioning look on his face. "Coming, sweetheart?"

  After the briefest of hesitations, Katy nodded and picked up the two tote bags full of souvenirs which sat at her feet. With one in each hand and a stiff smile on her face, she took the few steps that brought her level with her husband. Side by side, they walked across the crowded lobby and stepped out into the warm Texas night.

  ❧

  All of Katy's fears soon proved groundless. Within a month she had settled into the big house and her role as its mistress as though she had been born to it.

  She had expected the house to be a constant reminder of Henry and Saundra, but Trace, with the sensitivity she was coming to expect from him, eliminated that problem almost immediately. The morning after their arrival he took her on a tour of the house. Very tactfully he pointed out the furnishings which had been in his family for years, especially those items that had belonged to his mother. The rest, he explained tersely, had been selected by Saundra.

  After viewing only a few rooms Katy could easily spot which was which. Evelyn Barnett had chosen elegant period pieces with clean, classic lines, while Saundra's taste ran more to the ornate.

  Halfway through the tour Trace surprised her by saying, "I want you to redo the house to suit yourself, Katy. You can have a free hand to change anything you want, in any way you want. My only demand is that you get rid of every item that belonged to Saundra. I want that woman's presence obliterated from our home just as soon as possible."

  "Oh, Trace, I couldn't do that!" Katy protested quickly. "The house is lovely, just as it is!"

  "That may be, but I think a house should reflect the taste of its mistress." He lifted her chin with one finger and smiled into her anxious face. "I keep remembering how warm and inviting your father's cottage is. There's a wonderful, homey feeling there that this place lacks. I like that, Katy. I like it very much. And I think you do too."

  A wry smile twisted one corner of her mouth. "Well, yes. Actually, I do. But I somehow can't imagine this house with homemade braided rugs and chintz-covered furniture."

  "Maybe not. But I'm sure that whatever you choose will be perfect. Keep anything of Mother's that appeals to you, but get rid of Saundra's. Then just let yourself go."

  Katy continued to resist the idea for a time, but in the end, Trace was adamant. Once started, she tackled the project with enthusiasm, spending countless hours looking at furniture catalogues, paint samples, and upholstery and drapery swatches. In some rooms she made sweeping changes, in others only small ones, which, nevertheless, managed to subtly alter the tone of the decor. Within a few weeks the house had begun to take on a new personality.

  Much to everyone's surprise, Katy returned to her job at the daycare center. It was what she wanted to do, and Trace didn't mind. Mattie certainly didn't need her help caring for the house.

  Gradually her life settled into a pleasant routine. The days were spent helping Jane with the throng of irrepressible but delightful children. The evenings were spent quietly with Trace. Several times a week Trace persuaded her father to join them for dinner, and Katy was deeply touched by the thoughtful gesture. The fact that her husband and her father liked and respected one another filled her with a deep sense of contentment.

  Katy knew that to others they appeared to be the typical newlywed couple. Trace certainly made no effort to hide the fact that he adored his wife, and Katy would have been less than human had she not responded to the constant attention he showered on her. When he looked at her in that special way, or simply touched her gently in passing, she felt warm all over. All of her doubts about Trace vanished under his consistent, loving care.

  As the weeks passed Katy began to realize that she was happier than she had ever been in her life. If there were times when she felt a twinge of regret at the look of hungry yearning she often glimpsed in Trace's eyes, or when her own body stirred with restless longings, she quickly suppressed the feelings. She didn't want anything to disturb the even tenor of their relationship.

  For a long time it looked as though nothing would. Then one night, about two months after their return from Hawaii, she arrived home to find Trace packing.

  Katy froze in the bedroom doorway and stared at the open case spread out on the bed. A cold feeling of dread clutched at her. Her frantic gaze went to Trace, where he stood bent over an open dresser drawer.

  "Where are you going?" she asked bluntly, her voice breathless with anxiety.

  Surprise and pleasure lit Trace's handsome features when he swung around. "Hi, darling. I didn't hear you come in." Carelessly tossing a stack of clean underclothes into the open case, as he passed the bed, he crossed the room and took her into his arms, kissing her long and lingeringly on the mouth.

  Normally Katy melted under the soft persuasion of his kiss, but tonight she stood rigid within his arms, her lips cold and unresponsive. All that registered on her mind was that half-filled case. The moment he released her, her eyes went back to it. "Where are you going?" she repeated urgently.

  "I'm leaving early tomorrow morning for California. I received a call from Ed Tillman this afternoon. You remember him—the California rancher who was here a few weeks ago looking over some thoroughbred stock? Well, it seems he's finally made up his mind. He's buying the black stallion and six mares, and he wanted me to deliver them to his ranch just as soon as I can."

  "I see," she said quietly. "And how long do you think you'll be gone?"

  "Oh, about ten days, I'd say. I'm going to take it slowly, and stop often to exercise the horses. Their legs tend to swell on long hauls like this, and I want them to be in top shape when we arrive, so I'll probably take four or five days to make the trip. Then I'll have to stay a few days to make sure they settle in okay. I should be back by a week from Friday. But don't worry if it takes a bit longer."

  "Do you have to go? Why can't you send someone else?"

  "Normally I would. But Ed is very influential among California's horse set, and this is the first time he has bought any of our stock. I want to be sure everything goes well."

  Ten days. She wouldn't see him for ten days. Katy felt her stomach plunge as though she had suddenly swallowed a ten pound rock. Distressed by her reaction, she pulled out of his arms and walked briskly over to the open case.

  "My goodness, just look at this mess." Her voice came out high and unsteady, sounding nothing at all like her. "I don't understand why you men are so helpless when it comes to something like packing. None of this will be fit to wear by the time you get to California." Shaking her head, she pulled the jumble of clothing from the case and began to refold it. "Why don't you just get out whatever else you want to take, and I'll pack it for you."

  "I was hoping you'd say that," Trace said, chuckling.

  Katy kept her head down as she carefully repacked each item, blinking rapidly to fight back the threatening tears. She was furious with herself. Why should she mind that Trace would be gone for almost two weeks? Or that he hadn't asked her to go? Only a few months ago she would have been relieved. So she had gotten used to spending her evenings with him. So what? It wasn't the end of the world. There was no reason for her to be
lonely just because Trace wouldn't be here for a few days. She could spend every evening with her father. The way she used to. She probably wouldn't even notice that he was gone.

  As Katy put in the last item and straightened up she felt Trace's hands slide around her waist from behind, as his lips nuzzled aside her hair and nibbled at her neck.

  Katy relaxed against him, and for just a moment, reflected irrelevantly on how easily she had grown accustomed to his touch.

  "You know, honey, I've been thinking. It's about time we gave a party, and this would be a good time for you to plan it—while I'm gone and out of your hair."

  "A party? Why do we have to give a party?"

  Trace turned her slowly and locked his hands in the small of her back. There was a devilish gleam in his eyes and his mouth was twitching. Katy leaned back against his arms and eyed him suspiciously.

  "Well, it's the custom around these parts for newly-weds to give some sign to their family and friends that they're ready to leave the bedroom and rejoin the rest of the world," he stated with a perfectly straight face, then laughed aloud as Katy blushed furiously. "Surely you've noticed that we haven't had any visitors or received any invitations since we returned? They're all waiting for us to indicate that we wouldn't be averse to a little socializing. A party would accomplish that."

  Her face still warm, Katy stared at the top button on his shirt. "What kind of party?" she asked with a decided lack of enthusiasm. She hated the very thought of giving a party. The last one they'd had ended in disaster.

  "Oh, just something casual. Maybe a barbecue around the pool. And don't worry, we won't invite too many people. After dinner tonight I'll make up a list of the ones I feel we should ask, and you can add anyone else you want. Mattie can help you with the food and decorations. She's an old hand at this sort of thing. Plan it for two weeks from Saturday. I'm sure to be back by then." He tilted his head to one side and gave her a slow, coaxing smile. "Okay?"

  Resentment smoldered in Katy's blue eyes as she stared back at him, but there was no resisting Trace when he turned on the charm. Finally she released a long, resigned sigh and nodded. "Okay."