Whirlwind

by Jennifer Mikels

  "Couldn't you take it as a vacation?" he suggested. "You deserve one. And if something is being covered up, it shouldn't take more than two weeks to find out about it. All you have to do is relax and enjoy the Arizona sun. Get a nice suntan," he suggested. "I thought you'd have one when you came back from Hawaii. But bus tours don't exactly allow a great deal of time to bask in the sun. Anyway, find out if it's unwise for us to keep booking reservations at the Double R Guest Ranch. I really hope it's all a mistake. W.R. and I have known each other since before you were born. He's an old friend."

  "Maybe Mrs. Minter made advances and the man wasn't cooperative enough to suit her?"

  "There's always that possibility. And then again maybe not. It was the Double R foreman," Edward explained, "not some temporary cowhand."

  "Is Minter really terribly upset?"

  "For appearances' sake he's acting like an outraged husband, but I don't think he'll pursue the incident. I plan on doing so, however," he was quick to admit. "I find it hard to believe W.R. would allow any of his employees to overstep their position with one of the guests. However, because Alexandria Minter is married to a man who socializes with American notables and foreign nobility and we have in the past booked her on around-the-world cruises and never had any complaints, I think we're obligated to take this one seriously. As travel agents we're morally responsible to our clients."

  "How do you know the owner?" Dayna questioned.

  "I mentioned him before," Edward answered. "Reardon's wife was a childhood friend of your mother's. We met before you were born when he brought his family to Chicago for a trip. Because of our dealings with the Double R, I've kept up a long-distance friendship. He's a nice man, Dayna. And I suppose in a way that's part of the reason the Double R ended up being recommended by our agency originally. But it does have a high rating and we've received only good reports in the past."

  Dayna sat back on the edge of the table next to the bed and asked an obvious question. "Since you know him personally, why don't you just call him about it?"

  "A foreman has to have gained some of the owner's confidence or he wouldn't have that position. I don't want to call and ask questions without any proof. It would be insulting to Reardon."

  In her silence, he sensed refusal and added as an incentive, "Snow flurries have started here again."

  Dayna understood her father's dilemma. She laughed in response to his words and started unbuttoning her dress to change for dinner. "Is that supposed to be a persuasive weather report to get your own way?"

  "Dayna," he appealed, "I am concerned about this. Do you realize how scandalous improper advances from some ranch hand could have been if this had turned into an adultery case and made the courts? Palmer Travel Agency would have been brought into it. I'll admit," he said quickly, "we wouldn't have been legally responsible, but some of our clients are in the same social circle as the Minters. I don't want them thinking we book reservations for wives or daughters at love communes."

  Dayna laughed at his exaggeration. "I doubt they'd interpret it that way. If a grown woman decides to have an affair, that's her business. We're not camp counselors, Father."

  "Dayna, listen to me."

  She pressed fingertips against one temple and shook her head in a gesture of resignation. "All right, I'll go. What about reservations?"

  "I'll take care of that. Since I know W.R. I should be able to pull a few strings and get you accommodations."

  "It may be difficult," she reminded him. "I've always had to book reservations there at least a month in advance."

  "Don't worry about it," he answered confidently. "I'm sure I can work something out. You're not still trying to get out of it, are you?"

  "No," she said with a sigh. "If it will ease your mind, it's worth it."

  "Is it really such a hardship?" he gibed teasingly.

  "Well, to be honest, I think I would have chosen to vacation somewhere else."

  "You could still take another vacation later in the year," he reminded her. "Do you want Karen to stay on so you'll have some company at the ranch? I'm not too sure, but I think it's fairly isolated."

  Dayna smiled at his concession, aware that he was feeling guilty about insisting she go to the ranch. "Yes, I'd like that. Shelly too," Dayna added with a wicked smile.

  She heard a hint of indulgence in his voice. He knew that she was deliberately leaving him short-handed at the agency. "Shelly too," he said good-naturedly, "my sweet witch."

  Dayna laughed in response to the affectionate nickname he used only when exasperated with her. As she set the receiver down she stepped out of her dress. Why had she even fought him about it? she wondered wryly. After lolling in the balmy Hawaiian temperatures less than a week ago and watching the lazy surf roll in on Waikiki beach, she'd be foolish to hurry back to Chicago. Back home, she'd be shivering in freezing temperatures as she hurried across the Michigan Avenue Bridge. Instead she could enjoy the sunny, less bustling atmosphere of Phoenix and its surrounding countryside.

  She walked to the hotel window. The view was a far cry from the familiar scene outside their travel agency window: the turn-of-the-century architecture of Chicago's old water tower and the spectacular mixture of white marble and steel and smoked-glass skyscrapers towering above with imposing authority.

  There wasn't any hint of a bustling metropolis around her now. Phoenix was a sprawling city— only a few skyscrapers marked the central business center of the city, and the hotel she was staying in was outside the business district. Flanked by some of the city's finest private estates, the hotel offered a view of Camelback Mountain, the adjacent golf course, and a grass median lush with citrus trees and flower gardens.

  A glance at her wristwatch halted her daydreaming. Hurriedly, she changed from the cotton sundress to a royal-blue voile. For a moment she paused in the doorway, then fetched the name tag she was supposed to be wearing throughout the convention.

  Dayna closed the door behind her, wondering if she'd see a certain man again, then reproached herself for even thinking about him.

  Filled with thick-cushioned sofas and chairs, the hotel lobby was lined with French doors that offered a view and access to the patio of greenery and flower gardens. Dayna headed for the restaurant adjacent to the convention-room wing. She couldn't believe the number of passes she had received from men since she'd arrived in Phoenix. The convention she was attending had been scheduled at the same time as the annual Rodeo of Rodeos, and the hotel lobby and the lounges had become a Mecca for the hordes of swaggering cowboys who were staying there. Though not crude, they had been typically male. The hotel wasn't for those on a modest income, and she reasonably deduced these cowboys must have won their share of rodeo purses to afford such comfortable accommodations.

  She joined her friends at a table next to one of the ceiling-to-floor windows with a view of the immaculately landscaped lawns.

  Dayna listened to their comments about the seminar before telling them about her father's phone call. Karen was pleased, but Shelly didn't respond, appearing preoccupied by the menu she was holding. An amiable young woman with soft brown, naturally curly hair, Shelly Berger had been working at the Palmer agency nearly four years. She greeted every situation with an easygoing cheerfulness, an attitude that even extended to her tendency toward plumpness. Though she would have liked to have a figure like Dayna's and the male attention it brought, she was already contemplating ordering a slice of cream pie for dessert. Feeling her companions' stares, she voiced her reluctance to Dayna's news. "I'm not too sure horses are my favorite companions."

  With her long blond hair tied back and silver wire-rimmed glasses, Karen Hansen's appearance matched her serious, reserved manner. Married to an Air Force pilot who was currently stationed in American Samoa, she was 'taking advantage of every trip the agency offered until he returned and she could resume a normal married life. She had spent a year with an advertising agency before Dayna suggested that Karen should join her at the travel agency. Karen's
quiet, calm manner had been ideal for handling the hectic crises that sometimes accompanied making last-minute accommodations. After five years with the travel agency, she was as enthusiastic as ever about her job and the benefits that went with it. She smiled in response to Shelly's comment, reminding her quickly, "You don't have to ride if you don't want to, Shelly. I think it's wonderful. I never expected the convention trip to be extended. Thanks, Dayna."

  Dayna nodded, smiling, while the waitress delivered their salads. "It all might be conjecture, but my father was so upset. You know how he is. Obviously, unless I can assure him that nothing happened he'll continue to worry about the incident for the next couple of weeks the way he usually does. And I think you'll both agree there is something to be said for the milder March temperatures of Phoenix."

  " 'Great' would suffice," Karen answered with a smile.

  Some discussion followed about whether they'd packed sufficient clothing for an extended trip, but since all of them had overpacked in the first place, it was no problem. As they left the restaurant, they decided to meet in the lounge later. Karen and Shelly, in need of freshening their makeup, since they had gone to dinner right from the seminar, left Dayna at the elevator.

  Dayna walked to the lounge next to the convention center, a room with a musical combo and a small center dance floor. When she entered, the piano player was offering his rendition of "Evergreen." Dayna sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs and took in the unusual high ceiling with its decagon shape. Wondering how long Karen and Shelly would take, she decided to order a Manhattan. She gestured for the waitress. No sooner had she received the woman's nod of acknowledgment when a soft male voice behind her asked, "Since you're alone, why don't you let me be the lucky candidate to buy you a drink?"

  Dayna swiveled her chair away from the small table. She lifted her head and stared into the disturbing blue eyes of the stranger she had en-countered earlier in the hall. She tensed inwardly but kept her voice steady, hoping she emanated cool poise. "I thought I made myself clear in the hallway."

  "I guess I'm slow," he said with a smile. "Why don't we start over again, Dayna?"

  Chapter Two

  "How do you know my name?" She watched his gaze slide to her breasts. Though not low cut, the dress had a tantalizing V neckline. She looked down self-consciously. Her breasts swelled above the lacy cups of her bra, but she realized the view was much more revealing to her eyes than it could possibly be to anyone else's. She restrained the rush of color her own actions brought to her face as she met his eyes, now glinting with amusement.

  "Your name tag. Dayna Palmer," he said, in a gently mocking voice. "Unfortunately, you weren't wearing it earlier this evening. I'm sorry if I came on too strong, if I offended you. Now, may I buy that drink?"

  With the knowledge that Karen and Shelly would soon be joining her and there would be safety in numbers if he proved to be not contrite at all about his earlier manner, she nodded. The minute he sat down and unbuttoned his suit jacket, her eyes involuntarily were drawn to the lean waistline emphasized by the suit vest, and she questioned her own wisdom. She wasn't prone to such physical awareness of a man. For her own peace of mind, she said decisively, "One drink can't do any harm." She waited until he placed an order for her Manhattan and a beer for himself. "Since you know my name, don't you think I should know yours?"

  "Brand Renfrew." Quickly, he corrected himself with a self-deprecating grin. "Actually, it's Brandon, but the nickname came early in life and never left."

  Dayna nodded with understanding. "My father did the same to me. I've been trying to get away from the wicked nickname ever since. Tell me, are you in the city on business?"

  He paused before answering, waiting until their drinks were set before them. Dayna ate the cherry in hers while he took a large swallow of his beer. "Yes, I am."

  "Most of the guests seem to be here for the rodeo."

  She saw, through lowered lids, his mouth quirking in an amused smile that indicated he understood what she was trying to convey. If he was interested in anything more than pleasant conversation, he might as well leave now and pursue some other woman in the room. "In a way, so am I."

  Dayna arched a brow in surprise. "You don't look like a cowboy," she remarked, her glance taking in his expensive suit. "Tell me," she said half-sarcastically, unable to disguise her annoyance at the breed of men whose obvious passes she had been enduring for the past two days, "you're not a participant in the rodeo?"

  He smiled and shook his head. "What kind of convention are you here for?" His brows knitted as he examined Dayna's name tag. He answered his own question. "A travel agents'." At Tier nod, he asked with a smile, "Have you seen any of the rodeo events?"

  "No, but I've seen enough cowboys to last me a lifetime."

  A silent laugh preceded his next comment. "I can imagine the panting looks you've received. An expensive, long-stemmed rose," he added as he looked down at her crossed legs. Dayna ignored his suggestive look and was relieved when he switched to a more neutral subject. "Where are you from?"

  "Chicago."

  "A big-city girl." He leaned back in his chair. "You're just used to a smoother line. All men give it a try. Some just believe pretty lines and subtle games are part of it. Wranglers are used to a simple, homespun look—wildflowers, daisies. And you're used to innuendos," he said with a knowing smile. "The approach may be slower where you're from, the tactics not so obvious, but they're all looking for the same thing."

  "Since you're defending cowboys, I assume you know some."

  "I'm not defending them. They're just not all bad."

  Dayna shrugged a shoulder and changed the subject back to him. "You said you were in town on business and it had to do with the rodeo."

  His eyes locked with hers again, signaling that he wasn't quite willing to let go of the mood that had begun to build between them. That one look filled her with the desire to know the sinewy strength of his embrace and the taste of his lips before the evening ended. Dayna broke the visual exchange and looked down into her glass.

  "I've seen a few of the events," he began to explain, "but what really drew me to Phoenix was the computer system they're using for it. I'm compiling information for a much smaller rodeo. They have quite a computer system here. Competitors— including those from out-of-state—can call in, indicate which events they want to enter, and the computer supplies them with schedules of the different competitions and the animal they'll be matched with on those specific dates. For some, the purse might not be big enough to warrant the travel time; others might have drawn a particular animal who they know won't be worth the time and effort."

  Dayna shook her head in amazement. "It's unbelievable. We use computers all the time to secure accommodations, but who'd ever expect something as symbolically Old West and Country as rodeo competition to be right at home in the Computer Age."

  Brand smiled back. "I suppose it does seem out of place. But time and experience improve methods."

  Dayna smiled to herself. Talk about smooth. He had brought conversation to what he wanted with-out her even being aware of it. "How come you haven't slipped into the usual dialogue?" she asked. "Don't you know there's a set pattern to what a man says when he tries to pick up a woman in a bar?"

  Amusement filled his voice. "Do you visit bars often?"

  "No, but the dialogue usually includes, 'What's your sign?'"

  A broad smile curved his masculine lips and his shoulders shook slightly with silent mirth. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

  "Aren't you?" Dayna asked with a challenging smile.

  He cleared his throat and obligingly asked, "Okay, what's your sign?"

  "Really, that's not necessary," Dayna said with a laugh.

  "Come on, we'll play a little game. What's your horoscope sign?" Dayna shook her head, not believing they were going to have such silly conversation. But Brand persisted. "You look," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly in contemplation, "like a Taurus to me."

&n
bsp; "That's right," Dayna answered, unable to veil her surprise. "How did you know that?"

  "Taurus women are passionate ladies, sensuous looking and naturally friendly. You definitely look like a Taurus."

  An impish sparkle danced in her eyes. "They're also very disciplined and reflective."

  "I know," he answered with a wry grin. "It's a shame. They do tend to analyze everything, don't they?"

  Her gaze met his, a touch of amusement in her voice as she answered, "Yes, they do." She took a sip of her drink. From behind lowered lids, she saw his speculative look shift to one of resignation. "So, what's your sign?" she asked, enjoying the light conversation now that she was sure she was in control.

  "Leo," he answered with a grin that indicated he expected some taunting remark in return.

  Not wanting to disappoint him, Dayna nodded her head. "Leo, the lion. I should have guessed. Leo people thrive on authority, are natural leaders, and they're also inclined to be arrogant with a strong sense of self-importance," she added with soft laughter.

  An amused smile brightened his blue eyes. "Go on," he urged with a teasing lilt.

  "That's all I know," Dayna said with a shrug. She wasn't an ardent follower of astrology, but one man she had dated was a Leo and he had been eager to tell her about himself. She remembered quite vividly some of his boastful comments. "They're supposed to be strong and handsome and definitely decision makers."

  "Do you think those characteristics fit me?"

  "I really don't think I know you well enough to answer that. But," she replied lightly, willing to flatter his ego somewhat, "I guess they do."

  "You forgot to mention what's most important," he stated, restraining a smile. "They're tender and are known to have wild imaginations in certain areas."

  Dayna's green eyes danced with humor. "Certain areas?" she asked, holding back laughter.

  "Definitely certain areas," Brand answered, deadpan, but then his lips widened into a smile. As a soft laugh slipped out, Dayna let her own mirth escape.