by Curry, Edna
Joe threw up his hands helplessly, and Lacey laughingly agreed. As they walked off the floor, she saw that Mark and Nell also were returning to the sidelines. Joe seated her at her table and remained standing to take Nell’s arm possessively as she and Mark returned.
Lacey couldn’t tell if Mark minded, but he just smiled and said polite good-byes as Joe led a reluctant Nell back to their own table where another couple waited for them.
The incident took some of the joy out of the evening, and they left shortly afterward.
But then, as they walked out to her car, Mark put his arm around her, sending warmth sliding through her once more.
The evening was chilly, but she hardly noticed. A clear sky was sprinkled with hundreds of stars.
“Isn’t it amazing how bright the stars seem out here in the country, away from city lights?” Mark asked.
“Yes. The sky is what I miss most in the city,” Lacey agreed. “I hate not seeing the sun rise and set. The buildings of the city hide the horizon.”
“I miss that, too.”
Mark unlocked the car and handed her in, then got behind the wheel.
He smiled at her, and their eyes met in a long locked gaze, which brought some of the happy feeling back that had filled her before Nell appeared. Maybe Nell only worked with Mark, and she was imagining more between them. After all, Joe had seemed very possessive of Nell, and he worked with her too.
Then Lacey forgot all about Nell. Mark leaned over in the darkened car and covered her lips with his, teasing her lips open and entering her mouth with a tasting, probing tongue.
Waves of warm desire swept through her as he moved, making her want so much more.
His arms came around her and drew her close. Her hands reached up and her fingers caressed his wavy hair, bringing him closer. His hand slid inside her dress, teasing her bare skin with warm desire, and closing over her breast. His lips moved down her neck, sending a tingle of need through her midsection.
He slid aside her bra, allowing him more bare skin. She groaned and moved closer, writhing under the tickle of his lips on her bare throat, knowing he was moving downward to more interesting spots.
A car door slammed nearby, reminding them they were in full view of others in the parking lot. With a sigh, he drew back. “Guess we’d better move on.”
He grinned as she straightened her clothes.
Mark started the motor and she leaned back to enjoy the quiet, dark closeness of driving through the night beside him.
They rode in companionable quiet. She was half-asleep leaning on his shoulder a while later when Mark’s sudden curse and frantic working of the brake pedal brought her abruptly awake. They were sailing down the last steep hill near the lake much too fast.
“What’s the matter?”
“No brakes!”
Mark pressed the auxiliary emergency brake hard as he tried to negotiate the sharp curve in the dark.
He couldn’t slow their descent enough. They went over the steep embankment and into the ditch as the emergency brakes brought them to a bouncing halt.
Lacey felt bruised and shaken, but her seat belt held her in place. She put up a hand to feel blood on her forehead.
“Lacey! Are you all right?” Mark’s voice sounded strangely strangled, but he was right beside her. She felt his anxious hands on her cheeks, turning her face towards him.
“Yes,” she answered, “I think so. Are you hurt?”
“No.” His warm hands were on hers, helping her unfasten her seatbelt, and then he managed to open his door wide enough to slide out.
Lacey tried to open her door, but it refused to move more than an inch or so. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized her side of the car was wedged against the side of the embankment. Their car lights glowed only a dim streak of yellow against tall weeds and rocks ahead of them. Far below them, she saw the glimmer of moonlight on the lake. Only Mark’s quick and expert handling of the car had kept them from landing in that cold water. If she had been driving—She shuddered.
“Come out this way,” Mark’s voice, now calm and assured, guided her, and soon she was standing once more, his warm arm around her comfortingly. “Do you have a flashlight in the car?”
“Yes, in the glove compartment.” She felt him leave and watched his shadowy form as he found it, then in its meager light, assessed the damage.
“You’re bleeding!” he exclaimed, as he played the light over her face. His long fingers gently examined her head.
“It’s nothing,” she protested. “Just a bump on the head.”
He took a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped away the trickle of blood from her forehead. A bump was forming just beyond the hairline. “Do you feel faint or anything?”
“No, I’m fine, really. Can we get the car out of here, do you think?” she asked doubtfully.
“Not without a tow truck. Besides, we can’t drive it in these hills without brakes.”
She stared around her at the lonely shadowy countryside, trying to make out landmarks in the faint starlight.
“This is Lyons’ curve, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I believe I have heard someone call it that. We’re close to home, anyway. But there’s almost no traffic at this time of the night. We’re not likely to get a ride.”
She nodded. “We can’t be over a mile from the cabins, in fact if it were daylight we could almost see them across the lake from here. We can walk.” She reached in, shut off the car headlights, and shut the door.
“Walk? In those shoes? Are you sure?” He looked doubtfully at her dressy sandals as he played the flashlight on them.
She laughed lightly. “I danced in them, didn’t I? They’re more comfortable than they look.”
“There isn’t much choice, I guess,” he agreed, helping her up the rugged, rocky slope to the road. Once there, it was easier to walk on the asphalt road. He smiled down at her, and put his arm around her as they started off.
It was a beautiful night for a walk. Under less upsetting circumstances, she would have enjoyed it immensely. Even now, it was hard to ignore the warmth of his body next to hers, the coziness of her hand in his and the matched rhythm of their strides under the moonlight. Once he smiled down at her, then stopped to give her a long kiss, before reluctantly walking on again.
No cars came along the lonely, tree-lined road to offer them a ride. There were only a few cabins on this side of the lake, and those were dark. Most of the people came here only for the summer, and then usually only on weekends or for vacations.
They were almost back to her cabin, when she stopped.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m getting a blister. Turn around,” she ordered. She took off her shoes and pantyhose, stuffed the pantyhose in her coat pocket, and carried her sandals by their thin straps.
“What are you going to do?” he asked over his shoulder, his voice sounding like he was grinning.
“Walk barefoot. I do it all the time in the summer.”
“The ground’s still cold. You’ll freeze.”
“It’s not far now. Okay, I’m ready.”
He took her arm again, and they walked on, following the narrow beam of the flashlight to her cabin.
“Want some hot cocoa to warm up?” she asked when they at last entered her warm cabin.
“Sounds great. But I’ll make it while you soak those feet.” He turned from hanging up their coats and frowned down at her feet, now red with cold and more than a little dirty.
It had been a long day, she decided as she allowed him to ease her down onto the soft chair in front of the fireplace.
He disappeared in the direction of her bathroom, and she gratefully leaned back and closed her eyes. In just a few minutes he reappeared from the bathroom with a basin of steaming water, soap, a towel and even some antiseptic.
The hot water felt wonderful on her cold, sore feet. In spite of her comments about being used to going barefoot, it was after all only May, and s
he hadn’t been going barefoot yet this year. He tenderly washed the bump on her head and dabbed antiseptic on it, but admitted it needed no bandage. Sharp awareness shot through her at his nearness, making her catch her breath sharply and straighten her skirt which had pulled up more than she realized.
As she did so, she bumped his knee, making him wince, and she exclaimed, “You are hurt, aren’t you?”
He pulled up a pants leg to reveal an ugly red scrape on his knee that was obviously going to be black and blue tomorrow. She took the antiseptic from him and gently sprayed it over the red, raw area.
“It could have been a lot worse, you know,” he said, watching her sympathetic face. “If I hadn’t been able to stop us with the emergency brake, we’d have been down over the bank. There’s at least a hundred-foot drop a few hundred yards farther down the road.”
“Yes, I know,” she shuddered. “Luckily for us you’re not too fast a driver.”
“Yes,” he commented, but there was a faraway look in his eyes that puzzled her. She was about to ask him what he was thinking, but he rose abruptly, saying, “I’ll start a fire and then make us some cocoa.”
She watched him add some kindling from the basket beside the fireplace, crinkle a bit of newspaper under it and light it, fascinated by the way his muscles rippled as he moved. Being cared for like this made her feel so warm and protected.
By the time he returned with the hot cocoa, she had washed and dried her feet, put away the supplies and found some warm slippers.
She looked up as he came into the room, pleased to see his smile had returned too.
“Feeling better?” Handing her one of the cups, he sat opposite her, watching as she sipped the sweet steaming brew.
“Much.” She drew in her breath, her eyes unable to leave his, the now familiar glow sliding through her center again. His gaze was like a physical caress. It was so cozy and nice sitting here late at night with him. She was finally feeling warm again, and now the long, trying day was catching up with her, making her feel very tired.
Yet she was not at all sleepy. In fact she was so aware of him that she felt as though her blood was singing through her veins in excited answer to his tantalizing gaze. It made her remember their near-lovemaking in the restaurant parking lot. She wondered if he was about to begin where they had left off.
Instead, he stood up to leave. Disappointment ran over her like a shower of cold sleet on a winter day.
She walked him to the door and their goodnight kiss shook her to her sore toes. She drew back, drawing a ragged breath, and managed a smile, trying not to let him see that she didn’t want him to leave.
“I’ll call Ben and report the accident. I promised him that I’d meet him in town for coffee tomorrow morning, this morning, rather,” he said. “He wants to go over that list we got off Henry’s computer. Would you like to go with me?”
“Fine,” she murmured.
“We can fill out the accident report then, and can arrange to have your car towed and repaired then, too. Do you have insurance?”
“Yes.” How could he think of mundane arrangements at a time like this? Or didn’t he feel as she did? “I’ll call my insurance agent in the morning.”
“All right. I’ll see you about nine, then?”
She nodded. He brushed her lips lightly with his again, then was gone.
***
Her alarm woke her at eight. She had a headache, and felt stiff and sore from being shaken up in the accident the night before, but otherwise okay. By brushing her short curls forward over one side of her forehead, the small cut and bruise were completely hidden.
She took some aspirin and made coffee, then phoned her insurance agent and answered endless questions.
Next, she phoned Dave at the garage in Landers, told him about the accident and asked him to tow her car into town and make the necessary repairs on it. He was concerned, and after being reassured that she was fine, he said he would do it right away.
Then she sipped her coffee, slowly going over the events of the past evening in her mind. Mark had been so nice the night before. She’d found him so easy to talk to over dinner that she had told him things about herself and her feelings that she had told no one for years, not even her own family. He had called her ‘special.’
He was fast becoming something special to her too, she thought, fondly remembering his loving glance as he had said those words.
But she had seen no indication that he felt the same about her, so the realization brought more pain than joy. After her painful experience with Arthur, shouldn’t she have been immune? Apparently not. But it was much too soon for her to think of starting a romantic relationship.
She would play it cool and proper from now on, she vowed. Soon spring break would be over, and he would return to the University and Nell. Uncle Henry’s affairs would be settled here, and she would go back to her job in Minneapolis and probably never see him again.
Unless they happened to spend the same weekend at these cabins. How would she bear seeing him but not having him? Maybe she should sell the cabin, too. No. Not that. Not yet.
***
At nine Mark arrived to ask, “How are you feeling this morning?” His smile was friendly and warm, but gave no hint of anything more.
She did her best to match his cool manner. By no means would she let him see that she had been foolish enough to lose her heart to him. Especially when he was someone who obviously played the field, and might even be more than a little interested in someone else, namely Nell. That lovely tall blonde had the advantage of working with him every day, and could share his interests at the University, as well as socialize with all the same people.
“Stiff and sore and I have a headache, but it could have been much worse. How about you?”
“I’m okay. I still can’t believe how lucky we were, though,” he said as he helped her into his car.
“Yes,” she said, admiring the way his lithe body moved as he walked around the front of the car and got behind the wheel. He smiled at her and she swallowed, wondering guiltily if he could read her amorous thoughts.
“Want to have Jerry tow your car in? I need some gas first thing, too.”
“No, I’ve already called Dave at the West End garage. My stepbrother and I aren’t on the best of terms these days,” she said ruefully.
“Oh? I didn’t realize it had gone that far.”
“Small towns, you know. It’s just easier to go to Dave’s.”
“So that’s why Jerry gave me a surprised look yesterday when I left your car with him while I went for coffee and told him to fill it and check the oil.”
“At least they still do that out here. I have to do my own in the city.”
They found Ben already in a corner booth at the Flame, eating a hot cinnamon roll and flirting good-naturedly with Lois, one of the waitresses.
“Mm, those cinnamon rolls smell delicious,” Mark said, sliding his long frame into the booth, and smiling at the young waitress. “I’ll have one of those and coffee. How about you, Lacey?”
“That sounds good, Lois,” Lacey told her and tried not to notice that Mark was having his usual effect on young girls. After all, didn’t he affect her as well? So why should she blame Lois?
She smiled and answered politely as Lois extended her sympathies, telling Lacey that Henry had been a favorite with all the girls, always cheerful and polite, never missing a morning coffee break there.
While they ate, Ben asked questions and filled out an accident report. He frowned as they told him of the car problem the night before; of how they had narrowly missed injury or worse on Lyon’s Curve because the brakes on her car had failed.
“There was no traffic that late, so we ended up walking the rest of the way to the cabins,” Mark said.
Lacey signed the report. Ben handed her two copies, one for herself and another for the insurance company.
“Dave is pulling it in this morning?”
“Yes. I don’t think it wa
s seriously damaged except for the front bumper and left headlight. And of course, the brakes need fixing,” Mark said.
“Mm-hm,” Ben grunted, buttering another piece of roll. “I took a look at it and pictures and stuff this morning.”
“How do you stay so thin when you eat so much butter?” Lacey asked enviously. “I’d gain pounds if I ate here every day.”
“I never think about what I eat,” Ben grunted. “Maybe that’s the trouble, you think about dieting too much. That just makes you hungrier; keeps your mind on food all the time.”
“Maybe so.”
“What happened yesterday at Hammerton’s? With Henry’s will?”
Lacey told him about the meeting the day before. Since Ben had known her for years, she didn’t have to explain the background as she had for Mark.
Ben wasn’t at all surprised that Henry had left his property to her. In fact he just nodded as though it was the answer he had expected.
Then Ben asked the question she’d been avoiding. “So what are you going to do with Henry’s shop?”
“I...I haven’t thought much about it yet. I suppose I could have an auction. Jake Garner stopped at the cabin last night to offer to buy the merchandise from me for his own shop.”
“You mean he stopped by to find out what the will said, who owned the stuff now,” Ben corrected her.
Lacey shook her head. “No. Jake already knew that. He was the one who told me that Uncle Henry had left it to me. Remember, Mark? Yesterday morning, he stopped in just as we were leaving the shop.” She almost blushed, remembering what Jake had interrupted. Was that only yesterday?
Ben stared at her. “How did he know?”
Lacey shrugged. “He said Uncle Henry told him. I didn’t think they were that close.”
“Me either,” Ben frowned, taking off his glasses to rub his fingers along the bridge of his long nose. Then he looked at her piercingly as a new thought struck him. “You didn’t accept Jake’s offer?”
“No, he only wanted to set a date to make an offer. I’ll have to do an inventory of the merchandise first. I have no idea of the value of some of the things. Perhaps most of them are listed in Henry’s records somewhere, provided I can match descriptions with items. It’s a good thing I helped him as much as I did.”
