by Helen Conrad
“Hi,” his gaze was saying to her. “We meet again.”
“Yes,” hers answered. “Unfortunately.”
“Oh, come on, this isn’t so bad,” his replied. “But do we tell them?”
“Tell them what?” Defensively.
“About how we met.” Amusedly.
“Not a chance.” Decisively.
“Then we pretend to be strangers. And we have the fun of beginning all over again.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your family reunion,” he said aloud in answer to Lisa’s invitation to stay for lunch, but he said it in the tone of one hoping to be won over.
“Don’t be silly,” Lisa insisted, pleased as Punch. “There’s plenty of food and plenty of room. You take a seat over there, right by Shawnee, and I’ll get you a place setting.”
Shawnee sank down into the chair David held out for her, and then sat staring at Brad while he talked on and on, her face set in a fixed smile she was sure looked totally inane, her mind full of the man beside her.
He was dressed very casually, in stone-washed jeans and a light, bulky knitted cotton sweater of a natural wheat color that made his arms look dark in contrast, the biceps bulging slightly where the short sleeves revealed them. And she saw all that without ever looking fully at him, except for the brief conversation she’d had with his eyes when they’d first come face to face.
She was dressed in a light violet sundress that suddenly seemed all too shear, all too low-cut. She could feel his gaze wash over her, exploring, admiring, and she wished she could run from the room.
She bit her lip, trying to get herself together. What was the matter with her? Just the day before, he’d seen just about everything there was to see of her, and she’d lived through it.
But now he was so close, she could almost feel the warmth of his breath against her naked shoulder. Just the thought of it sent a slicing gasp through her body.
Could he tell how he was affecting her? She risked a sidelong glance and caught sight of his face turned towards her. He knew, all right. Her fork slipped from her fingers and clattered on to her plate.
She was reminded, suddenly, of the only time she’d come this close to David when she was a teenager. She’d despised him from afar all her life, sure that he was a thieving jerk, just like the rest of his family. And then he’d done something that had shattered her comfortable hatred and made her think twice. He’d come to her rescue like an old-fashioned caballero and he’d made a fatal impression on her imagination, one that she’d been trying to erase ever since.
Bound and determined to help out her family, Shawnee had taken a part-time job as a carhop at Merle’s, a drive-in restaurant, while still in high school. “I’ll make enough in tips alone to pay for my first year at college,” she’d dreamed naively. “And it’ll be fun seeing all the kids after school as they come in for sodas and hamburgers.”
It hadn’t quite worked out that way. The job was hard and exhausting, and though most of the patrons were nice people, there were a few who gave her trouble. One particular gang of young toughs took to hanging around every afternoon, torturing her with rude comments and lewd suggestions. Complaints to Merle didn’t help.
“It comes with the territory, honey,” he told her. “Learn to live with it.”
She tried, but she dreaded afternoons. One day one of the boys became even more obnoxious than usual. When she ignored his request for a kiss, he jumped over the door of the open convertible and tried to show her what he wanted.
He was young, but tall and husky, and the arms that hung from the sleeveless shirt looked huge and strong as they reached out and took her by the waist. Shawnee tried to twist away, but he tightened his grip. She tried to speak, but the words seemed to clog in her throat. There seemed nowhere to look to for help and panic rose in her chest. And that was when David stepped in.
“Hi, boys. How you doin’?” There was a pause as Shawnee fought to get free while the boy who held her looked up to see who’d spoken. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your hands off my girl.”
His voice was deceptively friendly, but underneath they could all hear the barely leashed contempt. Shawnee felt the arms releasing her and she turned to blink into David’s smile.
He must have been about twenty-five at the time. He was wearing dark slacks and a sports coat, and her first thought was that he was right to call the others boys. David was a man. His male maturity was etched in every line of his body. Next to him, the others looked hardly old enough to be let out on their own.
He didn’t know who she was at the time. They’d never met, and very likely he’d never even heard her name. So he was coming to the aid of a stranger, out of the blue, pretending to be her protector. That was an honorable and unusual thing for a young man to do. It sure didn’t fit the image she had of the Santiagos. She remembered frowning at the time, confused.
“I’ve seen you fellows around town before,” he went on. “I guess you didn’t know . . .” there was an almost imperceptible pause as he glanced at the name plate pinned to her chest, “. . . Shawnee was my girl.” He took a step forward and draped an arm lightly around her shoulders.
Shawnee looked at the boys, surprised at how different they looked now. All the arrogant aggression had evaporated. A few of them probably had fathers who worked on Rancho Verde. They knew who David was, and they respected him. Each one was murmuring apologetic phrases, eyes filled with wary unease.
David’s smile made him look as magnanimous as a Roman Emperor allowing a gladiator his life.
“Everyone makes a mistake now and then.” He smiled again. “But never the same one twice. Right, boys?” He winked at Shawnee, then turned and went back to the Corvette he’d obviously driven up in and waited for her to give him car service. But when she came to his window, he waved away her gratitude. “Just let me know if they bother you again,” he told her cheerfully. “And bring me the biggest hamburger you’ve got. I’m starved.”
That was all. He barely looked at her, not really interested. But her angry feelings toward him and his family were a little more difficult to justify after that.
She glanced at him now, wondering how many other girls he’d rescued from similar problems. Probably thousands, she thought with self-scorn. Why should she be special, after all? He did seem to have some basic decency, but she wasn’t going to let herself like him. She couldn’t do that.
“He’s just another man,” she told herself sternly, picking her fork back up and forcing a merry laugh at a joke Lisa had just told, though she didn’t have a clue as to what her sister had said.
Just another man. Two arms, two legs, one face. A very handsome face, but there were a lot of those around. No need to let him frighten you. Be brave. Look him in the eye and show him how little you really care.
Maybe if she said something brilliant. Forget brilliant, maybe if she said anything at all. Suddenly she realized she hadn’t uttered a word since they’d all sat down to eat. Clearing her throat, she tried desperately to think of a quelling remark to show how unruffled she was by the masculine presence beside her.
“It’s been awfully hot, hasn’t it?” she said lamely at last. “I mean... I don’t remember it being so hot in July in the old days.”
Wonderful. Better to have stayed quiet than to come up with something so insipid.
“There’s a perfect cure for that,” David drawled teasingly. “A nice, cool swim will make you forget all about the heat. You ought to try it.”
That hit much too near the quick, and Shawnee turned towards Lisa for help, but to her horror, Lisa’s memory had been jogged.
“Oh Shawnee,” she gurgled, delighted with what she’d just thought of, “do you remember? You used to sneak on to Rancho Verde to swim in one of their streams when you were a teenager.” She waved aside the ferocious face Shawnee was making, trying to warn her off. “Don’t be silly, I’m sure David isn’t going to press charges for trespassing at this late date.”
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sp; She turned back towards their guest. “David, she used to ride off, thinking none of us knew where she was going, and I got furious with her for not telling anyone. So one time I followed, and found her—” she giggled conspiratorially, “swimming absolutely buff naked, in one of your streams.”
The memory became clearer and she frowned thoughtfully. “As I remember, Shawnee, you looked so peaceful there, I was ashamed of myself for following you, so I left without saying a word.” She shook her head, her eyes dreamy. “So long ago,” she murmured regretfully.
Shawnee sat like a statue, unable to move, fiercely trying to will the color that was flooding her cheeks back into retreat. If only she could slide away under the table and pretend all this had never happened. It took all her courage to grit her teeth and make a show of bravado.
She didn’t dare look into David’s eyes, but she could feel him looking at her.
“So you’re a Carrington,” he whispered for only her to hear as Lisa and Brad began to bicker about something interesting only to them. “I should have known.”
“I knew who you were right away,” she whispered back. “But I guess it’s different for rich people like your family.”
His eyebrow rose quizzically, as though she’d said something he didn’t get at all. “Listen, if I’d known it was a habit with you I’d have camped out on the banks of that swimming hole long ago.”
“Thanks for the warning,” she flashed back, but it didn’t daunt him.
“Any time you feel like repeating that adventure,” he said loud enough for all to hear, “feel free.” He grinned. “You’re welcome on Rancho Verde anytime.”
“But this time, bring your swimsuit,” joked Brad, unconscious of how his jest cut.
“Spoilsport,” answered David, and Lisa and Brad laughed. Shawnee couldn’t bring herself to make even a phony smile.
That did it for the conversational turn. Much better to remain absolutely mute than to risk starting up another sequence like that. Shawnee concentrated on her meal, eating automatically, not even noticing how delicious the meal was--green peppers filled with tangy cheese, smothered in salsa and garnished with guacamole.
She hoped Lisa wasn’t planning a dessert. Once everyone had eaten their fill, she would think of some excuse to make a quick getaway, and then . . .
But the next thing she knew she’d been offered as a tour guide to Lisa’s rose garden.
Lisa was famous throughout the valley for her roses. Though she threatened every day to hire a maid and a cook and even, on some of her wilder moments, a butler, she’d never once suggested they might hire a gardener. The garden was her palette and she was a master artist when it came to arranging color and texture upon it.
Shawnee walked ahead of David, leading him through the white gate into the rose garden. “These beauties are Lisa’s hybrid teas,” she said in a tour-guide voice, gesturing towards the neat rows laid out like the spokes of a wheel around a little white gazebo. “And these are the miniatures she specializes in. She’s developed a few new varieties of her own, you know, and won prizes . . .”
“Lovely.” His voice was low and much closer than she’d expected, and when she whirled, she found herself turning right into his arms. “I’ve always liked roses,” he went on, holding her loosely to his chest, as though he always talked to women that way. “But I’ve got to admit, I’d rather look at you.”
She hadn’t expected him to be quite this direct, but she felt she could cope. He only needed to be reminded that there could never be anything between the two of them.
“Look all you want,” she told him, calmly but firmly pushing him away with two hands flattened on his chest. “But do it from a distance.”
“A distance!”
She began walking quickly through the maze of rose bushes, and he followed right behind, stopping her when he slipped one hand beneath her heavy hair and curled it about the back of her neck. “We’ve gone beyond that, don’t you think?” His eyes were laughing and she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away. “After all we’ve been through together, I think we can safely claim to have advanced at least to this.”
She knew he was going to kiss her, so why was it that she couldn’t force herself to pull away again?
Instead, she watched, mesmerized, while his hand tightened on her neck and his face came down towards hers. His lips were smooth and cool, moving across hers in a sensation that would have made a cat purr. She closed her eyes, blocking out all thought, leaving room only for a small slice of enchantment.
This wasn’t so bad. It was nice and relaxing and not the least bit threatening. She let herself enjoy it, leaning a little closer towards him. Just a second longer and she would make him stop. Just a second longer . . .
When his lips opened without warning, it startled her, and she parted her own without thinking, letting him enter, and suddenly the kiss was no longer cool and unthreatening. Suddenly she could feel the heat that stirred within, the flames flickering at her with a hint of the hunger that waited below, just barely restrained, and she gasped, pulling away convulsively, truly shocked by how quickly the danger had showed itself.
For just a moment, she was dizzy, but she also determined that he wouldn’t see how truly he’d disturbed her.
“You may have advanced to that,” she managed to croak out, “but I haven’t.” She turned and started walking through the roses again, stepping quickly. “Have you seen enough flowers? Would you like to go back to the house?”
“Not yet.” He came along behind her. “I don’t think I’m going to be ready to go in until you promise to have dinner with me.”
She stopped and glared up at him. “You’ve got to be crazy,” she said raggedly. “You’re a Santiago and I’m a Carrington. You know how impossible it is.”
He stood with his legs spread wide, his thumbs hooked into his pockets. “You know, I had a feeling you were going to say something like that.”
She tried to laugh but the sound that came out was slightly rasping. “It doesn’t take a master of perception to see the facts the way they are.”
He raised his dark eyebrows. “Maybe. But facts often look very different to different people.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “Facts are facts.”
His narrowed eyes held a speculative gleam. “You hate the Santiagos, right?”
That sounded harsh, and yet it was true. Her chin rose with more defiance than she really felt at the moment. “Yes. With just cause.”
He nodded slowly. “It might interest you to know that I had no idea you Carringtons felt that way until very recently.”
She found that very hard to believe. How could he not have felt the animosity that had been brewing right along his borders all these years? “Give me a break,” she replied.
“And I still don’t understand it,” he went on as though she hadn’t said a thing. “I wish you’d fill me in on just what the beef is.”
Now she knew he was either joking or playing her for a fool. She whirled and stared up at him. “Don’t you know anything about the history of your own family?”
His dark eyes were level and candid. “I thought I did,” he said softly. “Maybe I was wrong.”
She gazed at him, surprised to realize she believed him. He really didn’t know.
“Will you explain it all to me?”
She nodded slowly, and he glanced back towards the house. “But not right now. How about tonight?” He grinned, his dark eyes making lazy surveys of her attributes. “Over dinner?”
Over dinner. Was that really her nodding and saying, “All right,” and “Five o’clock would be fine”? It seemed to be.
“And you can fill me in on all the details,” he said as they started back towards the house. “You can explain to me why your sister Lisa seems to like me just fine, while you and your grandfather give me looks that might leave gashing wounds in the hide of a lesser man.”
“My grandfather?” She stopped again. “When did you see him?�
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He hesitated, looking wary, then decided to go ahead and tell her. “I’m sure he’s told you about the arrangements for the land he’s been living on. I was the one who came over to tell him about the changes a few weeks ago.”
“Arrangements?” Shawnee’s blood ran cold. “Changes? What are you talking about? What’s happening to the land?’
He looked at her curiously. “The lease is up. Surely you knew that.”
“Lease?” Her voice came out like a nail across sandpaper and a wave of nausea swept through her. “My grandfather owns that land.”
He shook his head slowly, his eyes veiled and unreadable. “I’m afraid you’re wrong about that. When my father bought the ranch from Jim Carrington, he allowed him a twenty-acre tract to live on, rent free, for forty years, thinking that would give him more than enough time to find another place to live.” He shrugged lightly. “The forty years are up. My father signed contracts before he died for an access road to our southern acres. It’s going right through that land. It’s been in the works for a long time. The state is taking over. Surveying will soon begin.”
She couldn’t breathe. There had to be some sort of mistake. Either that, or this was all a cruel joke. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered, swaying slightly.
He reached out as though to steady her, but she flinched away from his touch. “It can’t be true.”
His face blurred before her. “Look,” he said quietly, “let’s discuss this at dinner. I wouldn’t have brought it up at all but I thought you knew.”
Something about the calm certainty of his voice told her it was all too true. Even the land her grandfather had clung to all these years was about to be taken from him. She couldn’t bear to think of
Why hadn’t he told her? Did he believe it himself? She had to get back to him. David called to her, but she didn’t really hear him. She stumbled towards her car, parked alongside the house.
