by Janet Dailey
“I don’t imagine there’ll be very many people at the funeral tomorrow—just us from the ranch. Rube didn’t have hardly any other friends except us. Maybe a couple of hands from other ranches who worked here at one time or another.” His fingers tightened around the can. There was a popping sound as the force dented the aluminum. “Did I tell you Holt took his saddle! The bastard!”
Diana whitened at the violence in his voice. “Don’t say that?”
“Why not?” Guy was faintly belligerent. “It’s the truth. That’s what he is and what he’s always been. You know it, Diana. You feel the same as I do about him. Besides”—he didn’t give her time to refute the last statement—“if it hadn’t been for him, Rube would be alive.”
“That isn’t true. You can’t blame Holt. It was an accident. I was there. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me for not reaching him sooner.”
“No, it isn’t your fault. There wasn’t anything you could do. No, it was Holt,” Guy repeated. “And he’s blaming that wild stallion.”
“It was the wild stallion that trampled him, not Holt,” she reminded him sharply.
“But Holt was the one that got us out there. It was all his damned plan. He should pay for what he’s done. First you, then Rube. I hate the bastard.”
“That’s the beer talking, Guy. I refuse to believe you are actually saying any of this.” Diana trembled, partly in anger and partly in horror.
“How can you defend him after what he did to you?” He sat up in the chair, glaring at her.
“What do I have to do or say to get it through your head that I wanted him to make love to me?!!!” she cried out in frustrated anger.
“I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that. You wouldn’t want him, not when you hate him as much as I do. You’ve always hated him.”
“I don’t hate him anymore. I . . .” Diana had second thoughts about saying more than that.
“That bastard—”
“Don’t say it,” she warned. It wasn’t any use trying to reason with Guy, not in his present condition. “If you’re going to keep talking like this, I’m leaving.”
“No.” With an alacrity that belied any dulling of his reflexes from alcohol, Guy was on his feet, catching her arm before Diana could take a step toward her horse. “Please, don’t leave. Stay with me for a little while.” His blue eyes were contrite and beseeching. “I’m sorry for swearing like that in front of you. It just slipped out.”
He seemed such a little boy, despite his man-hard grip on her arm. It made it difficult for Diana to stay angry with him, the same as it had years ago when he’d looked at her with those calf eyes.
“It wasn’t your swearing that upset me, Guy. It’s your attitude toward Holt. Don’t you see that he’s tried to make a home for you, seen that you had an education? He’s never mistreated you, has he?”
But her protests only brought an angry frown to his face. “He’s made of stone. You have more emotion in your little finger than he has in his entire body. He doesn’t care about me.”
“Maybe it’s all locked up inside him and he doesn’t know how to let it out. He cares about you. That’s why he warned me to stay away from you, because he didn’t want you to be hurt by me.”
“He warned you?” His face clouded over darkly. “That’s why you keep pushing me away. You’re afraid of him, afraid of what he might do to you.” Ignoring her head shaking in denial, he crushed her into his arms and buried his face in the waving thickness of her raven hair. “I won’t let him hurt you, Diana. Don’t you know that?”
Diana closed her eyes, realizing that Guy fancied himself as her dragon-slayer. “I am not afraid of Holt.” She strained for breathing space. “I don’t need to be protected from him. I don’t want to be protected.”
“All this time you’ve been telling me it was because you didn’t want to get serious, you didn’t want to get involved.” Guy hadn’t listened to a word she’d said. “And it was him threatening you. That’s why you didn’t ask me to ride with you this morning.”
“No. I wanted to be alone and think. I didn’t want anyone with me,” Diana insisted.
“When he raped you out there, I should have—”
“It wasn’t rape. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Diana argued in frustration. “If I wasn’t willing, don’t you think I would have scratched his eyes out? And I’m the Major’s daughter. You know yourself how close Holt and the Major are. Do you think Holt would have forced himself on me and risked losing the Major’s respect, as well as his job? Don’t be stupid, Guy. Open your eyes and face the truth.”
“You’re afraid of him.” His hand was moving along her spine in what was meant to be an arousing caress. He began kissing her hair, seeking her face, but Diana twisted her head far to the side. “We’ll run away, far away from here, you and I, where Holt’s threats can’t frighten you.”
“I don’t want to run away. This is my home.” Hadn’t anything penetrated that alcohol haze?
“All right, we’ll stay here. Anywhere you want to be—that’s where I want to be. I’ll do anything you want,” he vowed huskily. “I’ll saddle a horse and we’ll go riding together. When it gets too hot, we’ll stop at the pond and go swimming like we did before.”
“No.” Her strangled cry fell on deaf ears.
“I love you so much, Diana. I just want to be with you. Hold you in my arms. Kiss you. Let’s go to the pond,” Guy moaned. “I promise you it will be as beautiful as it was before.”
“No!” Summoning all her strength, Diana twisted out of his arms, stepping backward to glare at him, frustration igniting her temper. “I’m sorry I ever went there with you.”
“You don’t mean that.” He was frozen with shock and disbelief. “You said you weren’t sorry.”
“Not then, but I am now. Oh, God, don’t you see?” Her fingers raked her hair as she searched impatiently for a way to make him understand. “We were friends. I made the mistake of letting you become too intimate and it’s spoiled the relationship between us. Now, every time you’re near me, that’s all you want to do. And I don’t want you to make love to me again.”
His mouth was contorted with pain. “But you said you cared about me.”
“I do care about you, but I don’t love you.” Diana wasn’t sure anything she was saying was getting through to him. “Guy, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re trying to protect me, aren’t you? You’re afraid of Holt and afraid I might do something to stop him. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re trying to protect me.”
It was hopeless. “You’re drunk, Guy. When you sober up, maybe some of the things I’ve said will sink in. There isn’t any point trying to make you understand when you won’t listen and keep twisting things around, trying to find motives that don’t exist.” She walked to her horse and stepped into the saddle.
“I’m not drunk,” was his indignant denial. “I’ve had a few beers, but—”
Diana tapped a heel against the horse’s ribs and it broke into an eager trot toward the stables.
Chapter XIX
Diana flipped through the pages of a magazine, but the contents didn’t hold her interest. She was restless, on edge, her thoughts constantly turning back to the argument with Guy this morning. And there was Holt, and the funeral tomorrow, so many things pressing on her mind. She tossed the magazine aside in a rush of unconcealed agitation.
“Why don’t you drive into town this afternoon, Diana?” the Major suggested gently. “You need to get away from the house for a while, I think. All these preparations for Rube’s funeral are beginning to prey on your mind.”
“It isn’t that,” she said and rose from the sofa to walk to the window. “Besides, if I went to town, I’d stop at the funeral home.”
“I still think you need a change of atmosphere for a few hours. I haven’t seen you smile at all in these last couple of days. Go see Peggy. That woman’s smile has always been contagious.”
“Yes
,” she breathed in. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll go see Peggy. I won’t stay long, though.” Diana started for the door. “But don’t forget to get some rest this afternoon.”
“I can take care of myself,” the Major insisted. “You just run along.”
Taking the station wagon, Diana drove to the neighboring ranch. The yard was empty of vehicles, but the sounds coming from the house assured her that Peggy was home. She knocked once on the screen door and walked in.
“Peggy?”
“Yes,” came the answer from another part of the house a few seconds before Peggy came to the kitchen, bouncing a fussing baby in her arms. Her auburn hair was in rollers, her white blouse stained with the baby’s spit. “Hi, Diana.” Her smile of greeting looked harried. “I was just putting the girls to bed for their afternoon nap. Come in and sit down. How about some iced tea? I know I’d love a glass.”
There were dark circles under the woman’s eyes. Diana thought Peggy should be the one taking the nap. The woman looked positively exhausted.
“You sit down and I’ll get the tea.”
“I’m not going to argue.” Peggy laughed tiredly. “There’s a pitcher of tea in the refrigerator and glasses in the left cupboard by the sink.” She sat down at the kitchen. table while Diana prepared the cold drinks. The teething ring slipped from the baby’s fingers and he started to cry until Peggy retrieved it for him. “I was so sorry to hear about Rube. I called yesterday morning and talked to the Major. What a terrible accident.”
“Yes, it was.” Diana carried the two glasses to the table and took a chair.
“Alan said he saw you at the funeral home last night. Have you finished making all the arrangements for the services?”
“Yes. There probably won’t be many people attending, so we’re just having a small service at the funeral home, and a graveside service, of course.”
“I suppose the boys at the ranch will be the pallbearers.”
“Yes.” Diana nodded and glanced up as she caught a flash of red out of the corner of her eye. The oldest girl was hesitating in the archway leading from the kitchen to the rest of the house. Her mouth was drooping in a half-pout and there was still a trace of tears on her cheeks.
“Mommy, I want a drink,” she demanded.
“No, you are not getting a drink!” Peggy flared at the sight of the girl. “You march right back into your room and get into bed! I mean it!”
“I don’t want to take a nap, Mommy.” She began to cry, fresh tears spilling from her lashes.
“Sara Kay Thornton, you get into that bedroom before I get the paddle and give you something to cry about,” Peggy threatened.
“No, Mommy, no!” Instead of obeying, the little girl began dancing in frightened agitation, crying harder.
Peggy shifted the baby in her arms and rose from the chair. The baby lost his teething ring and he started crying. As Peggy picked up the round paddle lying on the counter, the little girl started screaming not to be spanked. For a few minutes it was sheer bedlam as Peggy chased the girl back to her room, applying a few swats along the way.
“Stop crying!” Peggy’s voice carried into the kitchen. “And don’t you get out of that bed again until I tell you!” She returned trying to soothe the fussing baby, who wouldn’t be quieted until the teething ring was back in his mouth. Peggy grimaced tiredly as she sat in her chair. “That’s another rebellion put down. I hope I don’t have to live through a week like this again, what with Sara just getting over the flu and Brian cutting teeth and Amy certain that she isn’t getting her share of attention.”
“You look exhausted.”
“I am.” She smiled. “But I’m getting very good at catnaps. Mom is coming out tomorrow to sit with the kids so Alan and I can go to the funeral.”
Diana sniffed at the acrid odor in the air. “Is something burning?”
A horrified look spread over Peggy’s face. “Oh, my God! The cake! I forgot all about it!” She set the baby on the floor and rushed to the stove, pulling open the oven door. “It’s ruined,” she moaned and reached for a potholder. “Damn this oven!” She lifted out a rectangular cake tin. “Just look at that! One side is burned and the other is still doughy. The back of the oven is hotter than the rest. To get anything evenly baked, you have to keep turning the pan.” Peggy poked at the contents of the pan. “I forgot all about it, and now I’ll have to throw the whole thing out.” The baby crawled over to her feet, whimpering.
Diana shook her head. “How can you stand it? I mean, how can you put up with all this?” She found Peggy’s situation intolerable. “I don’t mean just the kids crying, but the stove that doesn’t bake, the refrigerator that doesn’t keep things cold, and a husband who doesn’t lift a finger to help, who keeps you barefoot and pregnant, instead. You can’t even afford a new dress.” It all burst out before Diana could stop to consider what she was saying.
Peggy stared at her for a stunned minute, then let her temper fly. “How dare you imply that I don’t have anything worthwhile in my life! You have a very beautiful brass bed to sleep in, but it’s empty when you crawl between the covers. When I go to bed, Alan is there to hold and love me and share his dreams with me. You may be able to dine on steak every night while we eat hamburger. Sitting at my table are my husband and three beautiful children. Who is at yours? This house isn’t much, not as fine as the Major’s, but it’s filled with love. I’m the one who is rich, and you’re the one who’s poor, Diana. If you can’t see that, then I feel sorry for you!”
“Peggy, I—”
The anger in his mother’s voice started the baby crying in earnest. Peggy reached down and picked him up. “I think you’d better leave, Diana.” Her gaze was proud.
Diana didn’t know how to undo the damage her thoughtlessness had done. Rising from the chair, she walked slowly to the door and turned. The baby had his fingers in Peggy’s mouth. Diana watched Peggy hold them away as she kissed him on the forehead and hugged him close. There was a lump in Diana’s throat as she walked out the door, closing it quietly.
It was a long, slow drive home. She parked the wagon in front of the house and fixed a smile on her face that the Major expected to see before walking up to the porch. As she opened the screen door, the telephone rang.
“Somers Ranch,” she answered.
“Diana? It’s me, Peggy. I forgot to mention something else that I treasure—your friendship. Can you forgive me for flying off the handle like that?”
“After the things I said, I don’t see how you can forgive me,” Diana declared in amazement, her voice choking up.
“We’ve both been under a strain these last few days. Let’s forgive and forget, okay?”
It was hard to get it past the lump in her throat, but Diana finally managed a tremulous, “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, tomorrow.”
The funeral service was simple and the mourners few. It was windy at the cemetery, dust-devils whipping across the road. Diana stood beside the Major, a black armband circling the sleeve of his dark suitcoat. Both Guy and Holt were among the pallbearers, standing apart from each other. With bloodshot eyes and a pallor to his skin, Guy looked as if his drinking binge had continued yesterday after Diana had left him. Holt seemed removed from the proceedings, indifferent to the droning voice of the minister and the wind that ruffled his sun-brown hair.
When the interment service was over, the small gathering of mourners milled together for a few minutes. Alan and Peggy Thornton came over to offer their formal condolences to the Major, the closest thing Rube had to a family.
“Peggy, about yesterday,” Diana began hesitantly.
“It’s forgotten, remember?” She gave her a quick hug, a gesture completely unaffected and natural. “We’ll see you at the ranch.”
Others were waiting to speak to the Major, and the Thorntons moved on. Everyone had been invited to the ranch for coffee and refreshments after the funeral. Those who lived close by had
accepted. The rest chose not to make the long journey.
The group had begun to disband, returning to their cars. The minister and his wife had accepted the Major’s invitation to ride to the ranch in the station wagon with himself and Diana. The narrow path leading to the parked vehicles forced Diana to walk behind them to the car.
They were almost there when a hand lightly grasped her elbow, not impeding her progress. Her startled gaze found Holt at her side. Diana hadn’t seen him for the last several minutes and had been under the impression he had already left the cemetery. He met her look briefly, his thoughts hidden behind a wall of gray stone, and continued at her side to the car.
The warmth of his touch spread through her. Diana wanted to turn into his arms and let the hard feel of his body drive out all the talk of dust and ashes, death and graves. At the car, Holt let his hand fall from her arm and Diana felt a life-support system had been removed. She trembled.
“Are you all right?” The question was low, not reaching the ears of the others near them.
She lifted her head. Her black hair was pulled severely back into a coil at the nape of her neck. The simple black suit she wore made her complexion seem paler than normal, intensifying the blue of her eyes.
“I’m fine.” In her mind, Diana added: As long as you are with me.
Looking at his lean, tanned features heightened her desire to be crushed in his arms and feel the searing pressure of his mouth on her lips. Her eyes must have revealed her consuming hunger, because she heard his quickly indrawn breath and saw the sudden darkening of his light-colored eyes. Unconsciously, she swayed toward him and Holt pivoted abruptly to face the Major.
“I’d like a few words with you, Major, later on today, when it’s convenient.”
“Whenever you wish, Holt.”
With a brief nod to the minister and his wife, Holt moved away, not casting a glance in Diana’s direction. A chill of apprehension shivered through her. Why did he want to speak to the Major? And why did the knowledge that he did make her so uneasy? Her gaze slid to the eastern mountains and she had to suppress a shudder of fear.
