Bed of Grass

by Janet Dailey

  "I do need to go over your grandfather's will with you before you leave." There was a hint of pomposity that she had implied he had made a request that was not important.

  "There's a provision for me in his will?" Her response was incredulous and skeptical.

  "Naturally, as his only living relative, you are one of the beneficiaries of his estate." His tone was reprimanding. "May I call in the morning? Around ten o'clock, perhaps?"

  "Yes. Yes, that will be fine." Valerie felt a bit dazed.

  As she and Mickey drove away from the cemetery a short time later, she saw the attorney standing beside the Prescott car talking to Judd. After having previously been convinced that she would be disinherited, Valerie had difficulty adjusting to the fact that her grandfather had left a bequest for her in his will.

  It was even more difficult for her to accept the next morning after Jefferson Burrows read her the will. She stared at the paper listing assets and liabilities belonging to her grandfather and the approximate net worth of the estate. All of it, except for a cash amount to Mickey, had been left to her.

  "You do understand," the attorney said, "that the values on the breeding stock and the farm are approximate market prices, but I've been conservative in fixing them. Also, this figure doesn't take into account the amount of tax you'll have to pay. Do you have any questions?"

  "No." How could she tell him she was overwhelmed just at the thought of inheriting?

  "You're fortunate that your grandfather wasn't one to incur a lot of debts. The only sizable one is the mortgage on the farm."

  "Yes, I am." Valerie tried to answer with some degree of poise.

  "I know this inheritance doesn't represent a large sum of money," he said, and she wondered what he used as a standard of measure. There was money for Tadd's education and enough left over that she wouldn't have to work for a year if she didn't want to. "But I'm sure you'll want to discuss it with your husband before you make any decision about possibly disposing of the property."

  "I'm not married, Mr. Burrows." She corrected his misconception immediately.

  He raised an eyebrow at that, but made no direct comment. "In that case, perhaps I should go over some of the alternatives with you. Deducting taxes and the bequest to Mr. Flanners, there isn't sufficient working capital to keep the farm running. Of course, you could borrow against your assets to obtain the capital, but in doing, so, you would be jeopardizing all of what you inherited."

  "Yes, I can see that," Valerie agreed, and she didn't like the idea of risking Tadd's future education.

  "I would advise that you auction all the horses to eliminate an immediate drain on your limited resources and to either lease or sell the land." He began going into more detail, discussing the pros and cons of each possibility until Valerie's mind was spinning in confusion. It was a relief when he began shoving the legal papers into his briefcase. "It isn't necessary that you make an immediate decision. In fact, I recommend that you think about it for a week or two before letting me know which course of action you would like to pursue."

  "Yes, I'll do that." She would need that much time to sort through all the advice he had given her.

  After he had gone, she broke the good news to Clara, but even then it didn't really sink in. It wasn't until after lunch when the dishes were done and she and Tadd and Clara had walked outside that the full import of it struck her.

  Valerie looked out over the pastures, the grazing mares and colts, the stables and barns, and the house, and she was dazzled by what she saw.

  "It's mine, Clara," she murmured. "I inherited all of this. It's really and truly mine."

  "Do you mean it's yours like the car is?" Tadd asked, sensing the importance of her statement, but not understanding its implications.

  "The car belongs to me and the bank," Valerie corrected him with a bright smile. "I guess the bank has a piece of this, too, but I have a bigger one."

  "Does that mean we can live here?" His eyes rounded at the thought.

  "We could live here if we wanted to," she agreed without thinking, since it was one of the choices.

  "You're forgetting you have a job to go to in Cincinnati," Clara inserted dryly.

  "I'm not forgetting." Valerie shook her head, then turned her bright gaze on the older woman. "Don't you see, Clara, I have enough money that I could quit my job?"

  "Now you're beginning to sound like some heiress," observed Clara in a puncturing tone.

  "I wouldn't be able to quit working forever," Valerie conceded, "but there's enough money here for Tadd to have a college education and to support us for a whole year besides."

  "Are we really going to live here, mommy?" Tadd was almost dancing with excitement.

  "I don't know yet, honey," she told him.

  "I want to. Please, can we live here?" he asked breathlessly.

  "We'll talk about it later," Valerie stalled. "You run off and play now. Don't go near the horses, though, unless Mickey is with you," she called as he went dashing off.

  "You shouldn't be raising the boy's hopes up," Clara reprimanded. "You know you can't live here permanently."

  "Maybe not permanently, but we could stay here through the summer." At the scoffing sound, Valerie outlined the idea that had been germinating in her mind. "It would be a vacation, the first time I'd be able to be with Tadd for more than just nights and weekends. And I'd like him to know the freedom of country life."

  "What would you do with yourself out here?" Clara wanted to know.

  "There's a lot that could be done. First, the horses would all have to be auctioned. And Mr. Burrows suggested that I might get a better price for the farm if I invested some money in painting the buildings and fences. The lawn would need to be cleaned up and maintained. There's something to be gained from staying the summer. Besides, it would take time to sell or lease the place," she reasoned. "What are we talking about anyway? Just two and a half or three months."

  "What about your job? You are supposed to be back to work on Friday," Clara reminded her.

  "I know," Valerie admitted. "I'll just have to see if Mr. Hanover will give me leave of absence until the fall."

  "And if he won't?"

  "Then I'll have to find another job." Valerie refused to regard this point as an obstacle. "This time I'll have enough money to support myself until I find a good one."

  "It seems to me you have your mind all made up," Clara sniffed, as if offended that her counsel hadn't been sought.

  "The more I think about it, the more I like it," Valerie admitted. "You could stay, too, Clara. The doctor said you had to rest for a month. Why not here in the fresh air and sunshine?"

  "If you're set on staying here, I might, too." There was something grudging in the reply. "I'm just not sure in my mind that you're doing the right thing."

  "Give me one good reason for not staying the summer," Valerie demanded with a challenging smile.

  "Judd Prescott." The answer was quick and sure.

  The smile was wiped from Valerie's face as if it had never been there. "He has nothing to do with my decision!" she snapped, her eyes flashing yellow sparks.

  "Maybe he doesn't, but he's someone you're going to have to contend with," Clara retorted. "And soon, it appears." Her eyes narrowed, gazing in the direction of the pasture beyond Valerie.

  Hearing the drum of galloping hooves, Valerie turned to see a big gray hunter approaching the yard. The rider was instantly recognizable as Judd. Alertness splintered through her senses, putting her instantly on guard.

  Tossing its head, the gray horse was reined in at the board fence. Judd dismounted and looped the reins around the upright post. He crossed the board fence and walked toward the two women with ease that said it was a commonplace thing for him to be stopping by. His arrogant assumption that he would be welcomed rankled Valerie.

  "What do you want, Mr. Prescott?" She coldly attempted to put him in his place as an uninvited trespasser.

  His hard mouth curved into a smile that lacked
both humor and warmth as he stopped before her. "I have some business that I want to discuss with you, Miss Wentworth." Sardonically he mocked her formality.

  "What business would that be?" she challenged, her chin lifting.

  His gaze skimmed her once over, taking in the crisp Levi's and the light blue print of her cotton blouse. His look belied his previous statement that his purpose was business, not personal.

  "I understand that Mr. Burrows was here to see you this morning," he replied without answering her question.

  "And where did you get that piece of information?" Valerie demanded.

  "From Mr. Burrows," Judd answered complacently. His mouth twisted briefly at the flash of indignation in her look. "I asked him to call me after he'd informed you of your inheritance."

  "Just what do you know about my inheritance?" She was practically seething at the attorney's lack of confidentiality.

  "That your grandfather left everything to you."

  "I suppose Mr. Burrows supplied you with that information, too." Irritation put a razor-sharp edge to her tightly controlled voice.

  "No, your grandfather did," Judd smoothly corrected her assumption.

  "I see," she said stiffly. "Now that we have that straightened out, what did you want?"

  "As I said, I have some business to discuss with you regarding your inheritance." His gaze flicked to the onlooking Clara. "In private."

  "There isn't anything you have to say to me that I would object to having Clara hear," Valerie stated.

  "But I object," Judd countered. "If you want to discuss my proposal with Clara after I'm gone, that's your business, Valerie. But my business is with you and you alone, with no third party listening in."

  Valerie held her breath and counted to ten. Was it really business he wanted to discuss or was it some trick to get her alone? There was nothing in his expression to tell her the answer.

  "Very well," she agreed, however ungraciously. "Shall we walk, Mr. Prescott? Then you won't have to worry about anyone eavesdropping on your so very private business conversation."

  "By all means let's walk." Amusement glittered in his eyes at her sarcasm.

  Valerie started off in the direction of the pasture fence where the gray hunter was tied. When they had traveled what she considered a sufficient distance, she glanced at him.

  "Is this far enough?" she questioned.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Clara, a taunting light in his eyes when their gaze returned to Valerie. "For the time being," he agreed.

  "Then perhaps you would be good enough to state your business." Her nerves felt as tight as a drum and the pounding of her heart increased the sensation.

  "I don't know if you have had time to decide what you want to do about the farm, whether you're going to keep it or sell it," Judd began without hesitation. "I'm willing to pay whatever the market price is for the farm if you decide to sell."

  So it was business, she realized, and was angered by the disappointment she felt. "I see." She couldn't think of anything else to say.

  "I offered to buy the place from your grandfather, but he wouldn't sell. It isn't a money-making concern, Valerie," he warned. "Your grandfather has a good stallion in Sunnybrook, but his mares are less than desirable. I tried to convince him that he should be more selective in the mares he bred to the stallion, but he needed the stud fees and couldn't afford to buy better-bred mares."

  But Valerie's thoughts had strayed to another area. "Why did granddad tell you he was leaving all this to me?"

  His gaze narrowed with wicked suggestion. "Do you mean did he know that you and I were once lovers?" She hadn't expected him to word her suspicion so bluntly. The uncomfortable rush of color to her cheeks angered her. Turning her back on Judd, she walked to the pasture fence, closing her hands over the edge of the top rail.

  "Did he guess?" she demanded, letting him know that she had never told her grandfather.

  "No. If he had, he'd probably have chased me off his land with a load of buckshot," he answered.

  "I…wondered," Valerie offered in a weak explanation for her question.

  "You look more like the Valerie I remember, standing there with your lion's mane of shiny hair around your shoulders and those tight-fitting jeans that show off your perfectly rounded bottom."

  If he had stripped her on the spot, Valerie couldn't have felt more naked. She pivoted around to face him, hiding the area he had described with such knowledge from his roaming gaze. Leaning against the fence, she hooked the heel of one boot on the lowest rail.

  "I think you said it was business you wanted to discuss," she reminded him with flashing temper.

  He looked amused. "Have you given any thought to selling?"

  Despite his compliance with her challenge, Valerie didn't feel much safer. "I'm considering it…as well as several other possibilities."

  "Such as staying on here permanently?" he suggested.

  "I don't think that's possible," she said, rejecting that idea with a brief shake of her head. "As you mentioned, the horses barely pay for themselves, so it would be difficult for me to earn a living from the farm."

  "You could always sell the horses and lease all the land except the house." Judd took a step toward the fence, but he was angled away from her, posing no threat.

  "I could," Valerie conceded, "but the income from a lease wouldn't be enough to support us. I'd need a job and there aren't many openings for a secretary in this community, especially well-paying ones. It's too far to commute to Baltimore. For that reason leasing practically cancels itself out."

  "Don't be too certain that you wouldn't have enough money from a lease," he cautioned. "The right party might be willing to pay what you need."

  He began wandering along the fence row, gazing out over the land as if appraising its worth. Valerie watched him, confused by the possibility he had raised. She didn't know whether he was telling her the truth or dangling a carrot under her nose to lead her into a trap. Or had there been a hidden suggestion in his words that she hadn't caught?

  Before she could puzzle it out, Judd was asking, "Do you mind if we walk on a little farther?" His sideways look of question held a bemused light. "I'd like to get out from underneath the eagle eye of that battle-ax."

  "Do you mean Clara?" Valerie was startled but not offended by his mocking reference to her friend. Without being aware of moving she began following him, matching his strolling pace.

  "Yes," he admitted. "She reminds me of one of those buxom warrior maids in a German opera. All she lacks are pigtails, a spear and an armored breastplate."

  Valerie visualized Clara in such a costume and couldn't help smiling at the image and the aptness of his description. "Does she make you uncomfortable?" she asked.

  Judd stopped, his level gaze swinging to her with a force that rooted her to the ground. "You make me uncomfortable, Valerie."

  His hand lifted, the back of his fingers stroking the line of her jaw before she could elude them. The light touch was destroying. When his fingertips traced the length of the sensitive cord in her neck all the way to the hollow of her throat, her breath was stolen by the traitorous awakening of her senses. She sank her white teeth into the softness of her lower lip to hold back the words trembling on her tongue, unsure whether they would come out a protest or an invitation.

  Taking her silence as acceptance, Judd moved closer. He hooked a finger under the collar of her blouse and followed its line to the lowest point where a button blocked his way, but not for long. A languorous warmth spread over her skin when his hand slid inside her blouse to climb and claim the rosy mountain of her breast. He bent his head to kiss the lip her teeth held captive, and they abandoned it to his sensual inspection. Her heart throbbed with aching force under his sweet mastery. Inflamed by his slow burning fire, Valerie trembled with passion.

  Satisfied with her initial response, Judd began nuzzling her cheek and eye, his tongue sending shivers of raw desire through her as it licked her ear. The heady male s
mell of him stimulated her already churning emotions. Of their own free will, her lips were nibbling and kissing the strong, smooth line of his jaw.

  "I'll lease the place from you, Valerie," Judd muttered against her cheek, "and pay you whatever you need to live on."

  His offer stopped her heartbeat. "Would you visit me?" she whispered, wanting to be sure she hadn't misunderstood.

  "Regularly." His massaging hand tightened possessively on her breast as he gathered her more fully into his encircling hold. He sought the corner of her lips, his warm breath mingling with hers. "Night and day."

  With shattering clarity, his true proposition was brought home to her. Leasing the land was only a means to give her money—money that would oblige her to be available whenever he felt the urge for her company. She inwardly reeled from the thought with pain and bitterness.

  Her lips escaped his smothering kiss long enough to ask chokingly, "Would the lease be…long-term or…short?"

  "Any terms, I don't care." Impatience edged his voice. "After seven years, I want to make love to you very slowly, but you drive me to the edge of control," he muttered thickly, his mouth making another foray to her neck.

  Sickened by the weakness that made her thrill to his admission, Valerie lowered her head to escape his insatiable kisses and strained her hands against his chest to gain breathing room. Judd didn't object. It was as if he knew how easily he could subdue any major show of resistance from her. This arrogance was the whip to flog her into a cold anger.

  "I'll tell you what my terms are, Judd." She lifted her head slowly, keeping her lashes lowered to conceal the hard, topaz glitter in her eyes until she was ready for him to see it. "My terms are—" she paused, taking one last look at her fingers spread across his powerful chest before lifting her gaze to his face "—no terms."

  As his green eyes began to narrow at her expression, she struck with feline swiftness. Her open palm lashed across his cheek in a stinging report, to be immediately caught in the viselike grip of his fingers.