by Janet Dailey
A trace of amusement remained in Shari’s voice when she continued, “Naturally he feels I should study something in the Arts or Domestic Sciences. He can’t see any value in chemistry. His biggest complaint against Duke is too many ‘outsiders’ are enrolled there.”
“Outsiders?” Beth frowned. “What does he mean by that?”
“Students from outside the State of North Carolina,” Shari explained. “Granddad is convinced I’ll end up marrying one of them and move away. He insists I’ll never be happy if I leave.” Although she didn’t admit it, she thought he could be right about that. She did love this wild and proud land.
“How did you ever manage to persuade him to let you enroll at Duke when he feels so intensely about it?” Doré questioned.
“I didn’t persuade him.” She shook her head.
“I suppose your mother did,” Beth guessed.
“No.” Shari laughed at the suggestion that her mother would oppose an edict of Frederick Lancaster. “As far as my mother is concerned, his word is law. Besides, nothing would make her happier than keeping me and Rory at her side forever. She doesn’t believe in untying the apron strings.”
“Then how did you manage to come to Duke?” Doré eyed her narrowly, trying to understand.
“I guess you could say that I literally ran away from home,” she shrugged to make light of the difficult decision. “One afternoon when no one was home, I packed all my things and left a note, telling them where I was going. Luckily I didn’t have to rely on them for financial support. When I turned eighteen, I was able to have control of the small inheritance my father, Robert Sutherland, left me. Between it and my scholarship grant, I’m able to pay for my own education.”
“Your grandfather must have been upset when he read your note.” Beth’s sympathies seemed to be with Shari’s grandfather.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Shari grimaced. “He was furious. He came after me, determined to take me back home. We practically had a knock-down, drag-out fight right there on campus. But I was legally of age so there really wasn’t anything he could do. He couldn’t force me to go home. Then he filled my mother’s head with so much nonsense that she came to get me, all upset and worried. It was harder trying to deal with her tears than with Granddad’s rage.”
“What happened?” Beth asked, then immediately explained her question. “I mean, I know you’re attending Duke University so they didn’t make you leave, but did your grandfather finally become reconciled to your choice?”
“Not hardly,” she sighed grimly. “After I’d been attending classes for about a month, I went home for a long weekend to try to smooth things out. It was a three-day, continuous argument. When I left, I swore I would never come back.” She laughed, remembering her impassioned declaration.
“Oh, Shari, you didn’t!” Beth breathed in alarm.
“I did,” she nodded and smiled. “Of course, that didn’t last. At the start of the Thanksgiving break, Whit arrived, packed my suitcases, and dragged me home.”
“Whit is your stepbrother?” Doré arched an eyebrow in Shari’s direction to be certain she was correct in her assumption.
“Yes.” Shari paused thoughtfully. “At times, Whit can be just as ruthless as his grandfather, with one major difference. Whit doesn’t argue.”
“Does he approve of what you’re doing?” Doré asked.
“No, he doesn’t think I needed to leave home to attend college, but he does agree that it was my decision to make, not anyone else’s,” she replied.
“You really think a lot of your stepbrother, don’t you?” Beth observed and turned to Doré, not giving Shari a chance to respond immediately. “Have you noticed the way her face lights up when she talks about him?”
“Whit is one of a kind,” Shari stated as if that explained it all.
“What makes him so special?” Doré challenged.
Shari had never had to describe him to anyone before. She suddenly didn’t know where to start. “He’s tall and good-looking in an austere kind of way. His hair is dark brown, but he spends so much time in the sun that it has streaks of dark gold. And his eyes are an unusual amber-brown color. When he’s angry, they look real dark and hard. Then other times, they sparkle with gold. He’s intelligent and has a marvelous sense of humor.”
“He sounds fascinating,” Doré murmured with more than a little feminine interest.
But Shari didn’t catch that note of aroused female curiosity for a member of the opposite sex. She was too caught up in her attempt to give her friends a clear picture of her stepbrother, something she’d never had to put into words before.
“I know you two would like him,” she insisted confidently. “At times, he can be positively infuriating but generally he’s always willing to listen to what you have to say, no matter how trivial. His shoulder is always available to cry on. And it always seems like he’s there when you need him most.” She paused for a minute as it occurred to her the best way to sum up her description. “Whit is every girl’s ideal image of what a big brother should be like.”
“I don’t know about you, Beth,” Doré arched a glance at the brown-haired girl,” but I was under the impression she was describing the ideal lover instead of a brother.”
Stunned by the suggestion, Shari laughed shortly. “Don’t be silly.”
Just for an instant, her imagination took over and she had a clear, mental picture of Whit taking her into his arms in a loverlike embrace. She shied away from the sudden and unexpected race of her pulse, blocking out the image.
“I’m not being silly,” Doré insisted. “It’s a pity you couldn’t hear yourself when you were describing him—or see the look on your face. You appeared much more interested in him as a man than as your brother. From all you said, I don’t blame you a bit. I’d love to meet him.”
There was something avidly feline about Doré’s look that reminded Shari of a cat ready to stalk its prey. She found herself bristling at the thought of her friend sinking her claws into Whit. Even more startling, she felt an almost territorial claim on him and the hostile sensation that her friend was trespassing on private property.
It was unsettling to learn she could feel jealousy over him. Disrupted by that, Shari was hesitant to examine the emotional ties that had always bound her so close to him.
“Is he married?” Doré inquired.
“No.” It occurred to her that she had always found something to dislike about every girl Whit had dated through the years.
Even now it seemed inconceivable that he might marry, yet it was perfectly logical to assume that he would. Whit was a very virile man. It was only natural for him to want a woman with whom he could share his life. Until that moment, Shari had never thought about Whit in terms of what his sexual and emotional needs might be. In so many ways, she had taken him for granted.
“We are going to have to meet this stepbrother of yours, aren’t we, Beth?” Doré enlisted her friend’s support.
“Well, I definitely think we should pay a visit to Shari’s family since we are this close,” Beth agreed to that extent. “How would you ever explain to them why we didn’t stop to say ‘hello’?”
“It’s very easy.” Shari tried not to let her irritation rise at the way they were ganging up on her. “They don’t know we’re here.”
“But surely you told them?” Beth stared.
“I wrote Mother that I was going to be spending these two weeks with friends. I didn’t mention where. I’m sure she’ll assume that I’m spending it with one of your families,” she replied.
“But the condominium? Don’t they know we’re using it?” Beth protested.
“No. In mother’s last letter, she said they weren’t going to be able to get away to spend any time here this summer. Since none of the family was going to be using it, I thought it was the ideal place for us to come.” Shari didn’t see what Beth was getting so upset about.
“Do you mean we’re staying here without permission?” Her
friend frowned and bit worriedly at her lip.
“We don’t need permission to stay here,” Shari explained patiently. “The condo belongs to Whit. He certainly isn’t going to object to us using it.”
“I agree with Beth. I think you should have let him know we were going to be here,” Doré stated. “It could be embarrassing if he decided to come here this weekend with a female companion.”
“Whit wouldn’t do that sort of thing,” Shari retorted.
“Any man would do that sort of thing,” Doré corrected with a knowing look. “That’s probably why he has the condominium, so he could have a weekend hideaway.”
“It’s used for the family as a vacation spot,” she insisted. The thought of it being used for any other purpose was distasteful. “If you two have finished with your drinks, I’d like to watch some of the athletic events being held.”
“If you insist,” Doré agreed with I’ll grace.
Chapter Two
The afternoon crowd was just beginning to disperse when the three girls left MacRae Meadows to return to the Lancaster condominium so they all would have time to shower and change before going out to dinner at the country club’s restaurant. The resort complex was almost literally carved out of a forest of trees and rock near the sheer cliffs of Grandfather Mountain.
When Shari inserted the key into the door, she discovered it was unlocked. She glanced over her shoulder at her two friends, her expression puzzled. “I locked the door before we left, didn’t I?”
“I thought you did,” Beth agreed, but she didn’t sound positive.
Turning the knob, Shari pushed the door open and looked inside before entering. Nothing appeared to be out of place. She was just about convinced she had left the apartment without locking it until Doré called her attention to the suitcase sitting at the foot of the stairs.
“I have the feeling we aren’t the only ones who decided to use the condominium this weekend,” she murmured.
Shari tried very hard not to remember Doré’s earlier suggestion that Whit used the place for romantic weekends, but she felt an indignant anger begin to grow. She started toward the stairs leading to the upstairs bedrooms.
“Hello? Is anybody here?” She called out.
She had one foot on the stairs when a voice answered her. Only it came from the direction of the kitchen. “Shari? Is that you?”
She pivoted in surprise. She recognized the voice, but it wasn’t the one she had expected to hear. The kitchen door was pushed open and a tall, young man walked through. His hair was as black as her own, but his eyes were dark brown instead of green.
“Hi, Sis.” He didn’t seem at all surprised to see her. “How come you haven’t stocked this place with some food? The cupboards are bare or haven’t you noticed?”
“Rory! What are you doing here?” She stared at her younger brother and recovered her shock to move forward to meet him.
“I could ask you the same question,” he retorted with a grin. “I thought I was going to have the place to myself until I went upstairs and saw all those suitcases filled with women’s clothes. I was almost convinced that I was in the wrong condo. Then I saw your name on one of the luggage tags. Nobody mentioned to me that you were going to be here this weekend.”
“I didn’t tell them,” she admitted, then came back to her original question. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here. Mom never said anything about it in her last letter. As a matter of fact, she said none of the family would be using it. How did you manage to get away?”
“It was easy,” he shrugged. “I took a page out of your book.”
“What do you mean?” she frowned.
“I ran away,” he stated, his expression not changing from its lazy grin.
“You what!” Shari was stunned by his answer. At times, Rory could be a terrible tease. She was half-convinced this was one of them.
“Close your mouth, Shari.” He tapped the underside of her chin with his finger. “You’re creating a draft.” His glance wandered to her friends. “Granddad would be upset with your lack of manners, Sis. You haven’t introduced me to your friends.”
Prompted by his reminder, Shari went through the formality. “This is my younger brother, Rory Lancaster. These are two of my sorority sisters—Doré Evans and Beth Daniels.”
“I’m Beth.” She stepped forward to clarify the introduction. “Shari said it would be all right if we stayed here.”
“It is as far as I’m concerned,” Rory assured her. “We have an open-door policy in our family. Friends are always welcome.”
“Is Mother coming?” Shari was visualizing all sorts of complications and trying to solve them before they occurred.
“No.”
Something in his expression made Shari ask, “You were just joking earlier, weren’t you?” She frowned because she suddenly wasn’t sure. “You didn’t leave Gold Leaf, did you?”
“I don’t know why you have any doubts.” His head moved to the side in an attitude of disappointment. “I thought you were the one person who would understand.”
“But why? What happened?”
Rory was nineteen, two years her junior. He’d always seemed so carefree, never taking anything too seriously. She could never recall him arguing with anyone, certainly never his grandfather.
“You know what it’s like at home,” he reminded her. “With Mom always pushing me and Granddad pulling me, and Whit walking around as the shining example of what I should become, I couldn’t take it any more.”
Beth shifted uneasily and glanced at Doré. “Why don’t we go upstairs and take our showers?” she suggested. “That way Shari and her brother can have some time alone.”
In a position where she had to reluctantly agree or appear impolite, Doré still showed her desire to see the outcome of this unfolding drama.
“I suppose that would be the thing to do.” She trailed slowly after Beth, lingering on the stairs to eavesdrop for as long as she could.
Shari eyed her younger brother with a grim sadness. “I didn’t know you were having a difficult time at home.”
“How could you?” Rory shrugged, but his glance contained a hint of condemnation. “You’ve hardly been home at all these last three years. You have your college, friends, and all sorts of activities. Sometimes I have the feeling you’ve forgotten all about us.”
“That isn’t true,” she denied. “I don’t come home very often because—You know why I don’t so there isn’t any point in going into my problems.”
“Ever since you left, Granddad has been impossible to live with,” he grumbled. “Between him and Mother, I’ve been practically smothered.”
“Just because I rebelled against his authority, that didn’t give him any right to take it out on you.” She tried to control the rising temper that was invariably sparked by any discussion concerning the Lancaster patriarch. “You should have talked it over with Whit. Granddad listens to him.”
“Whit doesn’t know anything about it,” Rory replied.
“Do you mean you haven’t told him how you feel?” She studied her brother with confusion.
“He’s busy. You know what it’s like at this time of year.” He attempted to justify his silence, then shrugged. “Besides I’ve never been able to talk to him about my problems. You have always been closer to him than I’ve been.”
“That isn’t true,” she protested.
“Yes, it is. You’ve always confided everything in him,” Rory insisted. “I remember how you used to slip into his bedroom at night. The two of you would talk for hours. Sometimes I’d lie in my bed listening to you and wish I could go in there.”
“But why didn’t you?” His revelation troubled her. They had never consciously excluded Rory from their late-night gatherings.
“I just didn’t, that’s all.” He shrugged his answer, revealing a regret that he’d even brought up the subject. “It doesn’t matter.”
Hesitating, Shari bit at the inside of her lip, th
en decided not to pursue the subject. “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “I’m just going to relax for a few days and think. But I’m not cut out to be a tobacco farmer, Shari.” His frustration surfaced in an impatient rush. “Heck, I can’t even stand the smell of cigarette smoke!”
The remark sparked a childhood memory. “Do you remember that time we took a pack of Whit’s cigarettes and sneaked into the garage to smoke them?” A laughing smile spread across her features. “I was about ten years old and you were eight.”
“Boy, do I remember!” he laughed. “It must have been a hundred and fifty degrees in that garage. It was stuffy, with no circulation. The smoke just hung there in a blue cloud around our heads.”
“Every time we tried to inhale, we started coughing and choking,” Shari recalled, laughing with him.
Looking back on the incident, she could see its humor. At the time, it had seemed like high adventure. There had been excitement in sneaking off to do something forbidden.
“You got sick afterward,” she remembered and wondered if that had been the start of her younger brother’s abhorrence of tobacco.
“I was never so sick in all my life!” Rory admitted. “And you just laughed.”
“I’d never seen anybody turn green before,” she defended her reaction of that long-ago time. “Mother was so worried about you.”
“She never did guess what made me so sick.” There was a lopsided grin slanting his mouth.
“Whit did, though.”
“He did?” Rory expressed surprise. “He never said anything.”
“No. He saw how sick you were and decided that we had been sufficiently punished for our little escapade,” Shari replied.
“But how did he know?”
“I guess we reeked of tobacco smoke,” she supposed. “He lectured me about being such a corrupting influence on you.”
She remembered the glint that had been in Whit’s eyes and realized now he had been amused by the results of their encounter with the demon tobacco. As she gazed at Rory, she saw that he was still following in her footsteps and her amusement faded.
