by Diana Palmer
“I thought you didn’t dance, Hayes,” Merrie said. She was smiling, but she seemed ill at ease.
“I don’t, as a rule,” he agreed, smiling back. “But I can manage it once in a while.”
“We’re all here to support the local animal shelter,” Ivy told Merrie. “From the looks of this crowd, they’re going to end up with plenty of donations.”
“I send them a check every year,” Stuart said curtly.
“Did you two come together?” Hayes asked curiously.
“We were both at a loose end tonight,” Merrie replied. “I got someone to cover for me at the hospital. I really came because I knew Ivy would be here. I haven’t seen her in so long!”
Ivy was bemused. She wondered why Merrie seemed so unlike herself.
“I never believed you’d make a nurse,” Hayes told Merrie with a grin. “I still remember you fainting when we had to sew up a wound on that old horse you used to trot around on.”
“I wish I could forget.” Merrie groaned. “It wouldn’t have been so bad, except for where I landed.”
“It was the only fresh manure on the place,” Stuart inserted with a chuckle. “I swear she took three baths that day before she got rid of the smell.”
The band started up again, this time playing a dreamy slow tune. Hayes looked down at Merrie. “Want to dance?”
She hesitated.
“Go on,” Ivy coaxed, smiling.
Merrie relaxed a little and let Hayes take her hand. He led her onto the dance floor and into a lazy box step. Was it Ivy’s imagination, or did Merrie look as if she’d landed in paradise, wrapped up in Hayes Carson’s strong arms?
“Do you dance, Mr. York?” Tippy asked.
He shook his head, sliding his big hands into his pockets. “Afraid not.”
She smiled. “Neither do I. At least, not very well. I’m learning, though.”
Cash drew her to his side. “Yes, you are, baby,” he said affectionately. “Come on. We can always do with a little practice. See you both later,” he added.
Which left Ivy alone with Stuart for the first time in over two years. She was ill at ease and it showed.
He turned and looked down at her deliberately, his pale eyes narrow and searching. “I like the dress,” he said, his voice deep and slow.
“Thanks,” she said, a little self-conscious because of the way he was looking at her. “I keep books for a boutique owner. It’s a model she’s hoping to sell.”
“So what are you, walking advertising?” he asked.
She smiled. “I suppose so.”
He glanced at his sister dancing with Hayes. “She used to have a horrific crush on him,” he said out of the blue. “I was glad when she outgrew it. Hayes takes chances. He’s been in two serious gun battles since he became sheriff. He barely walked away from the last one. She’d never make a lawman’s wife.”
“She made a nurse,” she pointed out.
“Yes, well, patients go home when they’ve healed. But a lawman’s wife waits up all hours, hoping he’ll come home at all.” He looked down at her. “There’s a difference.”
She felt guilty when she remembered the way Merrie had looked when Hayes asked her to dance, as if she’d trespassed on someone else’s property. Considering Stuart’s attitude, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Merrie might be hiding her interest in Hayes. Stuart liked him, but he’d always said that Hayes was too old for his sister, not to mention being in one of the more dangerous professions. Merrie idolized her brother. She wouldn’t deliberately cross him.
“Why are you here with Hayes?” he asked abruptly.
She blinked at the boldness of the question. She should have told him it was none of his business. But she couldn’t. He had that air of authority that had always opened doors for him.
“He didn’t want to come alone and neither did I,” she said.
“He’s well off, and he’s a bachelor,” he replied.
“Are you making a point?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed on her face. “You’ll be twenty-one soon.”
She was surprised that he kept up with her age. “Yes, I suppose so.”
He didn’t blink. “Merrie said you wanted to study opera.”
“Then she must have also said that I don’t want to leave Jacobsville,” she replied. “It would be a waste of time to train for a career I don’t want.”
“Do you want to keep books for other people for the rest of your life?”
“I like keeping books. You might remember that I also do the occasional article for the local cattlemen’s association.”
He didn’t reply to that. His eyes went back to his sister, moving lazily around the dance floor with Hayes. After a minute, his big hand reached down and caught Ivy’s. He tugged her gently onto the dance floor and slid his hand around her waist.
“You said you didn’t dance,” she murmured breathlessly.
He shrugged. “I lied.” He curled her into his body and moved grace fully to the music, coaxing her cheek onto his chest. His arm tightened around her, bringing her even closer.
She could barely breathe. The proximity was intoxicating. It brought back that one sweet interlude between them, so long ago. It was probably a dream and she’d wake up clutching a pillow in her own bed. So why not enjoy it, she thought? She closed her eyes, gave him her weight, and sighed. For an instant, she could almost have sworn that a shudder passed through his tall body.
She felt his lips against her forehead. It was the closest to heaven she’d ever come.
But all too soon it was over. The music ended and Stuart stepped away from her.
She felt cold and empty. She wrapped her arms around herself and forced a smile that she didn’t really feel.
Stuart was watching her intently. “That shade of green suits you,” he said quietly. “It matches your eyes.”
She didn’t know how to handle a compliment like that from him. She laughed nervously. “Does it?”
He smiled slowly. It wasn’t like any smile she’d ever had from him. It made his pale eyes glitter like sun-touched diamonds, made him look younger and less careworn. She smiled back.
Merrie joined them, an odd little smile touching her lips. “Having fun?” she asked Ivy.
“It’s a very nice dance,” Ivy replied, dragging her eyes away from Stuart.
“It is,” Merrie agreed.
Hayes had been stopped on the way off the dance floor by a somber Harley Fowler, who motioned Cash Grier to join them. Hayes made a face before he rejoined them, disappointment in his whole look.
“We’ve had word of a drug shipment coming through,” he said under his breath. “Harley was watching for it. He says they’ve got a semi full to the brim with cocaine. I have to go. We’ve been setting this sting up for months, and this is the first real break we’ve had.” He stared at Ivy. “I can get one of my deputies to swing by and take you home,” he began.
“She can ride with us,” Stuart said easily. “No problem.”
“Thanks,” Hayes said. He grinned at Ivy. “Our first date and I blew it. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“I’m not upset, Hayes,” she replied. “You go do your job. There will be other dances.”
“You’re a good sport. Thanks. See you, Merrie,” he added with a wink, nodding to Stuart as he headed for the front door.
Merrie was biting her lower lip, her eyes on Hayes’s back as he left. Ivy noticed and didn’t say a word.
“How about some of this punch?” Ivy asked her best friend. “It looks very good.”
Merrie was diverted. “Yes. I’ll bet it tastes good, too. But I want a word with Shelby Ballenger before I indulge. I’ll be right back.” She went toward Shelby. Ivy filled two glass cups with punch and handed one to Stuart.
He made a face. “It’s tropical punch, isn’t it? I hate tropical punch.”
“They have coffee, too, if you’d rather,” Ivy told him, putting the punch down on the table.
He met her searching eyes. “I would. Cream. No sugar.”
She poured coffee into a cup, adding just a touch of cream. She handed it to him, but her hands shook. He had to put his around them, to steady them.
“It’s all right,” he said softly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
She didn’t under stand what was happening to her. The feel of his big, warm hands around hers made her heart race. The look in his pale eyes delighted, thrilled, terrified. She’d never had such a headlong physical reaction to any other man, and especially not since that incredible night when he’d held her and kissed her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. It had haunted her dreams for more than two years, and ruined her for a relationship with any other man.
She let go of the cup with a nervous little laugh. “Is that enough cream?” she asked.
He nodded. He sipped it in silence while she sipped at her punch. The music was playing again, this time a slow, bluesy two-step.
Merrie came back to them, grinning. “I asked Shelby if she’d save me one of those border collies she and Justin are breeding. They’re great cattle dogs.”
Stuart scowled at her. “What the hell do you need with a cattle dog?”
“It’s not for me,” she replied. “There’s a sweet little girl on my ward who has to have a tumor removed from her brain. She’s scared to death. I asked her parents what might help her attitude, and they said she’d always wanted a border collie. It might be just what she needs to come through the surgery. You see,” she added sadly, “they don’t know if it’s malignant yet.”
“How old is she?” Ivy asked.
“Ten.”
Ivy winced. “What a terrible age to have something so deadly.”
“At least she’ll have something to look forward to,” Stuart added. “You really are a jewel, Merrie.”
She made an affection ate face at him. “So are you. Now let’s dance or eat or something so we don’t burst into tears and embarrass Ivy.”
He cocked an eyebrow and gave Ivy a mischievous look. “God forbid that we should embarrass her.” He put down his coffee cup. “Dancing seems more sensible.”
He took Ivy’s glass of punch and put it down, only to draw her back onto the dance floor.
It was the sweetest evening of Ivy’s life. She danced almost exclusively with Stuart, and he didn’t seem to mind that people were watching them with fond amusement. It was well-known that Stuart played the field, and that Ivy didn’t date anyone. The attention Stuart was showing her raised eyebrows.
Merrie didn’t lack for partners, either, but she seemed subdued since Hayes had left. Ivy wondered if there wasn’t something smoldering under Merrie’s passive expression that led back to that old crush she’d had on Hayes.
When it came time to leave, Merrie informed Stuart that she was going to ride home with one of the Bates twins, who passed right by their house. She didn’t give a reason, but Stuart didn’t ask for one, either. He linked his fingers into Ivy’s and drew her outside to his big, sleek Jaguar.
“I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a party more,” he remarked.
“It was fun,” she agreed, smiling. “I don’t get out much at night. Usually I’m trying to keep up with the accounts, including doing estimated taxes for all my clients four times a year. It keeps me close to home.”
“You and Merrie have lost touch since she went to work in San Antonio.”
“A little, maybe,” she replied. “But Merrie is still the best friend I have. That doesn’t go away, even when we don’t see each other for months at a time.”
He was quiet for a minute. “Have you heard from Rachel?” he asked.
She drew in a painful breath. “Yes. Last week.”
“How was she?”
She wondered why he was asking her questions about her sister, whom he hated. “Pretty much the same, I guess.” Except that she was steadily higher than a kite when she called Ivy, and she was running around with someone else’s rich husband, she added silently.
He shot a glance at her. “That isn’t what I hear.”
Her heart welled up in her throat. She’d for got ten that he moved in the same circles as other rich, successful men. Rachel’s garden slug of a boy friend knew such people in New York. Stuart might even know Rachel’s latest lover. “What do you hear?” she asked.
“That she’s about to create a media sensation,” he said flatly. “Which is why I brought Merrie to the dance. Hayes mentioned that he was bringing you, and I wanted to talk to you without the whole town knowing. Your boarding house isn’t private enough, and my Mrs. Rhodes is a terrible gossip. That left me looking for a neutral spot. Here it is.”
Her heart was hammering. Rachel again. It was always something, her whole life. Would she ever be free of her sister’s messy problems?
“Don’t look like that,” he said curtly. “I know you don’t have any influence on her. I just don’t want you to be surprised by some enthusiastic journalist out of the blue, asking you personal questions about your sister for print. Scandals pay well, especially if the victim’s relatives can be shocked into a printable reaction.”
She put her face in her hands. “How bad is it?” she asked.
“Bad enough.” He pulled the car off the main road onto a dirt road and cut off the engine. When she looked around, disturbed, he added, “This is on my land. I don’t want to sit in front of Mrs. Brown’s boarding house and have curtains fluttering the whole time we’re talking.” He freed his seat belt and turned to her, one arm curved around the back of her bucket seat. “You need to know what you’re up against before the story hits the tabloids.”
She grimaced. Tippy Moore had gone through the tabloid mills before her marriage to Cash Grier. So had Leslie, Matt Caldwell’s wife. She knew the devastating effect they could have on people’s lives. But she never dreamed that she could become a victim of them. Surely Rachel’s sister wouldn’t be interesting news to anyone? On the other hand, Rachel had actually landed a few roles on Broadway, despite her drug habit, and one review had called her talent “promising.” After years of auditions, it seemed that Rachel might actually make it as an actress. But Stuart looked un comfortable.
“Tell me,” she prodded gently.
“She’s been supplying drugs to an elderly recluse who fancies himself in love with her,” he replied curtly. “The problem is that he’s recently married to a former beauty queen who doesn’t want to share him and his fortune with anyone, least of all a minor actress with a drug dealer for a boy friend. A mutual friend says she’s about to go public with the story. If she does, it will ruin Rachel’s chances of any more roles on Broadway, and it may put her drug-dealing boy friend in prison. It might even put her there, if the wife decides to go public with what her very expensive private detective dug up on Rachel. She found a connection to some very big drug lords across the border; some of the same ones Hayes and Cash and Cobb of the DEA are trying to catch.”
By now, Ivy was noticeably pale despite the semi-dark ness of the front seats. That message Rachel had given her for the baker had been code, after all. Her sister was a drug dealer. Her heart ran away with fear. She pulled at a curl beside her ear. “I wonder if I could get lost in the Amazon jungle before Rachel gets it in the neck?”
“You’d have to come home one day. Running away never solved a problem.”
She leaned back against the seat, sick to her soul. In a small town like Jacobsville, a tabloid story would be a gossip fest. There wouldn’t be a place she could go where people wouldn’t be talking about her.
She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill.
“Rachel told a lot of lies about you around town, when you were in high school,” he said after a minute, his eyes narrow and thoughtful. “She fed me a dose of them, too. I actually believed her, until two years ago. But just the same, I made sure that she left town.”
She felt her cheeks go hot, and she hoped he couldn’t see. So that was
why Rachel had gone away so suddenly, why her attitude toward Ivy had changed. She thought Stuart was protecting her little sister, and she was jealous!
“Copper Coltrain says that you were in his office frequently with injuries from ‘falls’ when you were in school,” he persisted.
Her heart jumped. “I was clumsy,” she said quickly.
“Bull! Your father drank to excess and Rachel fed him the same lies she fed other people about you,” he countered. “She bragged about getting you in trouble with your father. It suited her to have you constantly out of favor, so that she’d inherit everything. Which she did.”
The news that he knew all her problems, although she’d secretly suspected as much, made her sick. “Dad thought she was wonderful.”
“Yes, and he was fairly certain that you weren’t his child.”
She gasped aloud, her eyes as wide as saucers. “What?!”
“I didn’t think you knew that,” he murmured, watching her. “Rachel said that your mother told her, before she died, that she’d had an affair and you were the result.”
Of all the things Rachel had done to her, that was the absolute worst. She couldn’t even find words to express how horrified she was. “Is it…is it true?” she asked unsteadily.
He was hesitant. “I don’t know. There’s an easy way to find out, if you want to know for sure. If you can get a hair from your father’s brush, or if Coltrain has a blood sample from him on file, we can have a DNA profile done. If there isn’t a sample, but if Coltrain has his blood type on file, we can have your blood typed. Paternity can be determined by blood groups. It won’t prove anything for sure, unless we could get a DNA sample from your father, but it would at least show if you could have been your father’s child.”
“You’d do that, for me?” she asked, surprised at his indulgence.
“Of course,” he said matter-of-factly.
It was a lot to swallow at once. No wonder her father had been so brutal to her! He thought she wasn’t his child. And Rachel had used that knowledge—if it wasn’t a lie—to cheat Ivy out of anything that belonged to her family. Rachel had inherited it all, and sold it all.
