by Unknown
"Are you here to criticize or eat?" she demanded as she started frying bacon in the big iron skillet.
"Eat," Keegan replied. "I'm starving to death. Mary June turned her ankle and can't get up, and Maureen doesn't wake up until eleven o'clock." "Well, where's your father?" she asked.
"He went to the Red Barn for breakfast," he replied.
"Really? I'm astonished that you didn't bring him with you," she muttered.
"I invited him." Keegan sighed. "But he didn't want to impose."
She could have thrown something at him. And her father just sat there sipping coffee, enjoying himself. Men!
"I like my eggs sunny-side up," Keegan remarked as she started to mix some in a bowl to scramble.
"Do you?" She gave him a sunny smile. "How nice." She went back to breaking eggs into the bowl.
"Is she always such a bear in the mornings?" he asked her father.
"Oh, not at all," Barnett replied. "She's disgustingly sunny as a rule."
"Then it must be me," the younger man said with a sigh. He stared at Eleanor quietly as she moved around pots and pans, smiling at her stiff back. He was wearing work clothes this morning— jeans and a chambray shirt that probably cost the earth, she thought irritably. It wasn't completely buttoned, and she wished he would at least cover up his chest so that she didn't get sidetracked while trying to make biscuits. The sight brought back some very disturbing memories.
"Biscuits," Keegan sighed, leaning his forearms on the table. "Nobody makes them like you do, Ellie."
"How would you know?" she demanded, glancing over her shoulder as she cut the biscuits and put them into a pan.
"I usually come over for coffee with your father," he said. "After you're gone, of course, but there are usually biscuits left over. I love the way you make them."
Disgusting, the way that pleased her. She bit back a smile. "I make sourdough biscuits," she said. She glanced at him. "Go ahead, make a comment."
"I wouldn't dare. At least, not until you take up the eggs." He grinned.
She turned back to her chores. Keegan and her father started talking, and she got busy setting the table and getting everything cooked.
When she was through, she put the food on the table and started to leave.
"Where are you going?" Keegan asked with his fork poised over the bacon platter.
"To...to get dressed," she faltered.
"It will be cold by then," her father chided. "Sit down, for heaven's sake; you're decently covered, after all."
"My thoughts exactly," Keegan seconded. "Sit, girl, you won't inflame me with passion. I have willpower."
She made the mistake of staring into his eyes at that instant, with the memory of that Sunday afternoon picnic in her face. The look she shared with him made her tingle all over, and thank heaven her father was buttering a biscuit. She averted her eyes and quickly sat down across from Keegan, her hands trembling as she tried to pour coffee from the carafe into thick white mugs.
"Here," Keegan said softly, putting his hand over hers to help her.
She looked up, and all the years fell away; it was painful for her, so painful to feel that way about him and know that he didn't share it, that he had nothing to give her.
His fingers caressed hers as he helped her steady the carafe, and his blue eyes searched her face. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?" he asked in a tone like velvet.
"The food was delicious," she returned. "Didn't you think so?"
"Yes." He didn't release her hand when she finished pouring. He let his eyes brush over it, then reluctantly he let her move away.
"How did Miss O'Clancy like it?" she forced herself to ask.
He shifted restlessly in his chair. "She found it a bit trying, I think," he replied. "She doesn't like French cuisine."
"Then why take her to a French restaurant?" she burst out, wide-eyed.
"She didn't tell me until it was too late," he replied.
She wanted to ask if he'd known that she and Wade were going to be there, but her courage failed her. She concentrated instead on eating her breakfast, leaving the conversation to the men, who seemed intent on discussing farm business anyway.
When they were through, she got up to clear the table and put the dishes in to soak until she dressed.
"I have to run," she remarked, drying her hands. "I go on duty at seven."
"Will the world end if you're a few minutes late?" Keegan grumbled, almost as if he didn't want her to leave.
"No, but my job might," she replied. "Unlike you, Mr. Taber, sir, I have to earn my living."
"Eleanor!" Barnett burst out, shocked.
"It's all right," Keegan soothed him. "Eleanor and I have been sparring for years. Haven't you noticed?"
"Yes," her father replied, and there was a world of meaning in the word.
Keegan sipped his coffee quietly. "Feel like going sailing with me Saturday?" he asked unexpectedly.
She gaped at him. "Me? My goodness, you're courting the angels these days, aren't you, being so good to the hired help!"
"Oh, Eleanor," her father groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"I like the hired help," Keegan shot back at her. "And will you please stop embarrassing your father?"
"He's my father after all; I can embarrass him if I want to!" she flared, dark eyes angry and cold. "Will you come sailing or not?" he demanded. "I don't like sailing."
"You were going with Wade!"
"I like Wade," she returned. "I'd rather go fishing or walking, if you want to know, but I was willing to go sailing with him because I like bis company. I do not like yours," she continued relentlessly, "and you know why!"
He stared at her unblinking while Barnett watched them curiously.
"Besides," she muttered, dropping her eyes, "Wade's already invited me to a garden party at his home Saturday."
"At his home?" he asked silkily.
She glared at him. "His mother and sister will be there, as well as a number of guests. And before you ask, no, he doesn't do it hanging from tree limbs because I asked him and he told me so!"
"Oh, God." Barnett covered his face again, shaking his head. "Where did I fail her?"
"Will you hush?" Eleanor said to her father, then slid her angry gaze back to Keegan. "See what you've done now?"
"How could you ask him a question like that?" he demanded. "You'll put ideas into his head!"
"Dad's?" she asked innocently.
"Wade's! As you damned well know!" Keegan looked furious. Even his face seemed red, like his hair. He stuck his hands on his lean hips and glared at her. "Did he try anything last night?"
"Did you?" she shot back.
He was looking more furious by the minute. "Listen, Eleanor, you're going to get in trouble if you keep hanging out with that playboy."
"Dad, why don't you tell him that you're my father and that he has no right to grill me like this?" Eleanor moaned.
Barnett grinned. "But he's doing such a good job, darling."
She threw up her hands. "I'm going to work!"
"Running away?" Keegan taunted.
"You bet!" she replied without turning. She continued on to her room to get into her nurse's uniform and put on her makeup.
But if she'd expected that Keegan would be gone when she returned to the kitchen, cap in hand, she was disappointed. He was still sitting there.
His blue eyes gazed approvingly at the neat fit of her crisp white uniform with its metal nameplate. "Nice," he said with a slow smile. "You do look like an angel of mercy, baby."
Did he have to use that particular endearment? It made her grind her teeth, and the blush that covered her cheeks certainly aroused her father's curiosity.
"I'll be late if I don't hurry," she muttered, bending to kiss her father's cheek. "See you later."
"Don't I get a kiss, too?" Keegan asked.
She glared at him. "I only kiss family."
"How about long-lost cousins?" he asked. "I'll run right out and have a
family history done."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Beast."
"Have a nice day, darling," Barnett told his daughter as she went out the door.
She returned that, without looking at Keegan, and made a dash for her car. He probably wouldn't have come after her, but she wasn't taking any chances.
It was a long day. She couldn't seem to finish anything. There was one emergency after another, and by quitting time she was a frazzled wreck. Wade called that night, and she was barely able to talk to him for plain weariness. The rest of the week was equally rushed. In a way it was a blessing, because she didn't have time to brood over Keegan, who'd missed his Thursday night chess game with her father because of some business meeting. Eleanor was looking forward to an uncluttered weekend.
Darcy went with her Friday afternoon to shop for a wispy something to wear to the garden party at Wade's home.
"This is getting to be a Saturday ritual," Darcy laughed as they walked through the huge store's dress department.
"Yes, I know." Eleanor sighed. "I just hope I don't run out of money before Wade runs out of places to take me. I'm not too keen on this garden party, you know. I won't even know the people."
"You're every bit as good as anyone else," Darcy reminded her gently. "Just keep that in mind."
"I try. If I didn't like Wade so much, I'd break it off. He's a lovely man, but it's never going to amount to anything serious. Bells don't ring."
"Bells are noisy," Darcy said firmly. "Settle for security. You can buy bells, for goodness' sake!"
Eleanor burst out laughing at her friend's downto-earth practicality. "Oh, you doll, you." She sighed. "What in the world would I do without you?"
"Let's not try to find out. Now this is a nice little outfit," she said, steering her friend toward a heavenly little purple-and-white cotton frock with lots of ruffles. Sure enough, when Eleanor tried it on, it was perfect. It emphasized her long, pretty legs and her nicely tanned arms and face, and gave her the appearance of an ingenue.
"That's the very thing," Darcy said firmly. "Now, quick, get it to the cash register before you look at the price tag, okay?"
It was a good thing Eleanor did, because it was half a week's salary. But then she could always wear it to barbecues and coffees and other highsociety occasions, like being introduced to the Queen if she ever came to Lexington.
She told Darcy that and watched the older woman's face crumble into laughter.
"You can wear it to church, can't you?" Darcy asked. "Besides, just imagine how many heads will turn when you walk out wearing that!"
Eleanor sighed. The only head that came to mind was a red one, and she tried to imagine having Keegan pass out with frustrated passion just by looking at her. That was some joke, and she just shook her head. No, by now the Irish girl probably had him halfway to the altar. That depressed her, so she invited Darcy into the nearest ice cream shop and treated them both to enormous banana splits.
Wade came by to pick her up at ten the next
no EYE OF THE TIGER morning, and she felt so nervous that she almost backed out "It'll be all right," he assured her. "You look gorgeous, you silly woman, and I'll be right with you every minute. Okay?"
She gave in. "Okay. Just, please, don't strand me, will you?"
"I won't strand you," he promised. "Now, come on."
Her father had vanished earlier; she hadn't even seen him since she'd gotten up. She left him a note and allowed Wade to herd her out the door.
Wade's home was beautiful. It was almost as big as Flintlock, set in the middle of a wide stretch of pasture surrounded by white fences and racehorses. One of the Granger stable had come in third at the Kentucky Derby last month, at the same time the Tabers' entry had finished second. There was great rivalry among stable owners, although Eleanor wasn't close enough to that society to encounter much of it.
"Like it?" Wade asked as he parked behind a Rolls in the driveway, near the huge brick house.
"It's lovely, especially the gardens," she replied, sighing.
"Wait until you see the backyard," he murmured dryly, and escorted her there.
Whatever she'd expected to see, the reality was a shock. There were tented pavilions everywhere, with ladies in wispy dresses and picture hats being escorted by nattily dressed gentlemen in ridiculously expensive leisure wear, with a huge Olympic-size swimming pool in the background. Everyone looked pleasant enough, and Eleanor's entrance didn't cause any riots. The guests didn't all rash together in panic and point fingers and speak in shocked whispers about the carpenter's daughter being included on the guest list.
"See?" Wade teased, taking her hand in his. "Now, they're just people, aren't they?"
"I guess so," she said hesitantly, her worried dark eyes glancing around. They came to a young dark-haired woman and a silver-haired matron, both exquisitely dressed, who were suddenly staring daggers at her. She sighed, expecting to do battle, because she knew whom they both favored. "Wade, would that be your mother and sister?" she added, nodding toward the hostile-looking pair.
He turned his head and grimaced. His hand, holding hers, contracted. "Oh, boy. Well, just ignore them, Eleanor," he said with an irritated expression. "They never like anyone I bring home, so don't take it personally. They're terrified that I'll get married and they'll lose control of the household."
"Let's go and meet them," she suggested, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of battle. "I love war movies, don't you?"
He laughed, surprised. ' 'You little Amazon, you. All right, we'll get it over with."
She was dreading it, to tell the truth, but she wasn't about to spend the entire morning letting them make her uncomfortable. After all, the worst they could do was embarrass her, and maybe when they were through, they'd find someone else to victimize. During her four years of nursing, Eleanor had learned a lot about managing people. Buckling under, she knew, was a one-way road to misery. She hadn't let herself be walked on since she'd graduated from nurse's training, and she was now assistant floor-nurse.
She smiled broadly at the two women, inwardly amused at the slight surprise that registered on their exquisitely made-up faces.
"This is your guest?" Mrs. Granger asked her son with a snooty look at Eleanor's dress. She lifted her chin. "Don't I know you, my dear?" she added with a faintly malicious smile while her daughter watched with a matching glint in her eyes. "You're the daughter of the Tabers' carpenter, I believe...."
"Why, that's right," Eleanor drawled. "You must be Wade's family," she gushed, reaching forward to drag his mother's white hand into her own and shaking it firmly. "How delightful to meet you both! I just can't tell you how astonished I was when Wade invited me. Imagine, little old me in a fancy place like this! I'll just do my dead level best not to slurp my coffee or wipe" my mouth on my sleeve. Hot dang, is that a real swimming pool? You people must be just filthy rich!"
Mrs. Granger was openly gaping. So was her daughter. Wade was doubled over with laughter, no help whatsoever.
"I do love parties!" Eleanor continued, unabashed. "Say, is it okay if I strip off and go swimming in my undies? I didn't pack a bathing suit, you know."
Mrs. Granger cleared her throat and got a death grip on her glass of red punch. "I...uh..." she began, glancing irritably at her son. "Wade?"
He straightened, tears of amusement in his eyes. "Mother, you're out of your league with Eleanor," he said, wiping the tears away. "You've heard me speak of her—and please don't mind her atrocious manners," he added, tugging sharply on Eleanor's short hair. "She's had too much fresh air this morning, and it's affected her brain. Eleanor, darling, this is Mother and my sister, Sandra."
"I can apologize for my own atrocious manners, if you don't mind," Eleanor told him firmly. She nodded at the two women and smiled mischievously. "I'm very glad to meet you both. And you don't have to worry about having me cavort around the pool in my underwear. Actually, I don't swim at all."
Mrs. Granger was actually napping, her fac
e pale and her eyes startled. Her daughter was only a little less baffled and actually seemed to be amused.
' 'I'm glad to meet you, Eleanor Whitman,'' Sandra said with a grin. "Congratulations, you just passed the acid test. Right, mother hydrochloric?"
Eleanor laughed, delighted, and extended her own hand to meet Sandra's. "I'm sorry if I came on strong," she apologized, "It's been a wickedly long week, and it's telling on me, I'm afraid."
"Eleanor is a nurse, you know," Wade informed them proudly, drawing her close to his side. "She's an assistant floor nurse at Peterson Memorial."
"I'm impressed," Mrs. Granger said, and actually seemed to mean it. "Go away, Wade, and let me talk to Miss Whitman."
"No intimidation," he warned his mother. "I like this one."
"I never intimidate people," came the gruff, indignant reply. "Scat!"
Wade brushed a kiss against Eleanor's cheek and went off with his hands in his pockets to join a group of businessmen.
"Sit down, dear," said Mrs. Granger, guiding Eleanor to a shady umbrella near the pool. A waiter was just passing with glasses of ice-cold lemonade, and she appropriated three of them for herself and her companions, men sat heavily down in the shade, fanning her full face with her hand.
"It's so hot," she complained. "I wanted to be in St. Croix this week, but Sandra had to have help organizing this little social thing."
"So Mother always says." Sandra grinned. She looked very much like her brother and was about the same age, with dark eyes and very white teeth.
"St. Croix is in the Caribbean, isn't it?" Eleanor sighed as she sipped her lemonade. "We had a patient who'd just returned from there. It must be lovely, being able to travel."
"It gets boring after a time," Mrs. Granger said kindly. "Anything does. I enjoyed it much more when I was younger than I do now, although I confess I'm partial to the West Indies. The pace is much slower down there. I can relax."
"Are you going to marry Wade?" Sandra asked bluntly.
Eleanor smiled. "No."
"I see," Sandra murmured with a mischievous smile.
"No, I don't think you do," Eleanor replied. "I don't have wild affairs, even with fabulously wealthy men. I like your brother very much, but like is as far as it goes. I have a career in mind, not marriage."
