by Janet Dailey
She hesitated and moved closer to the wood timbers that framed the front door. "We never did play that tennis game to break the tie with my parents," she reminded, him nervously. "And you haven't taken a tour of the island. Fort Mackinac is really quite fascinating sitting on those limestone cliffs that overlook the harbor and the Straits of Mackinac. And there's the governor's mansion—it's open to the public."
"Victoria." He cut across her silly chattering, his jaw hardening into bronze.
"Excuse me, sir," the carriage driver interrupted him. "Are you ready to leave?"
"Not yet!" Dirk snapped, then took a deep breath. "I have some luggage inside the door." He pushed the door open. "You might as well load it in the carriage for me."
"Yes, sir." The man moved from the horse's head and walked across the stone entry to the door. Victoria watched him juggle the suitcases, carrying them all in one trip. When he loaded them in the carriage Dirk's departure seemed suddenly very final.
"You really are leaving," she murmured.
"I can have him unload that luggage," Dirk replied.
"Are you going to?" Victoria held her breath.
"Do you want me to stay?" he asked instead. She couldn't answer that. It would be much too revealing. Dirk became impatient with her silence. "A simple yes or no will do."
"I don't know!" she flared in agitation.
"Look, I don't know what you want from me." His gaze resembled sharp blades of black steel cutting into her and slicing her into tiny pieces. "One minute you are practically inviting me into your bed and in the next you are trying to keep me at a respectful distance. I am not going to stay around here and be your yo-yo that you can wind up, then let fall as it suits your fancy. I don't dance on anybody's string."
"I never asked you to. You don't understand," Victoria protested.
"Why don't you try to explain?" Dirk challenged.
"I don't know you!"
"What is it that you want to know?" His hands were lifted palms upward in a beseeching gesture that reflected his exasperation. "I'm male, thirty-four years old, single, a reporter. I like children and a good joke. I smoke, but I don't drink. I play tennis, football, chess, handball, and a couple of other sports. I've never struck a woman in my life, but you are sorely testing me. As far as I know I'm in good health. Maybe you want to check my teeth. Shall I send you my dental records? Sorry I can't supply you with a family tree, but I've never been too concerned about my lineage."
"I don't care about that!" She raked the hair behind her ears, inwardly wincing at his digging gibes.
"Then you'll have to be more specific in your request," he countered, not letting up on his anger.
"Are you ready yet, sir?" It was the driver again.
Dirk pivoted to glare at him. "Hold your horses!" Immediately he released a long sigh. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to be funny. I'll be there in a minute." He turned back to Victoria. "Well?"
"You can't give me an ultimatum like this," she protested. "I need more time."
"How much time? Another week?"
"I don't know." She shrugged impatiently.
"What then? Two weeks? A month? A year? How long is it going to take for you to decide?" he demanded.
"I can't narrow it down like that!"
"If you can't then I guess you've answered my question. I've taken my quota of cold showers, Victoria." The anger was gone from his voice, leaving it hard and flat. "And I'm not going to lay awake any more nights thinking about you in the bedroom across the hall. So I guess this is goodbye."
"You don't have to go." There were hot tears stinging the back of her eyes.
Just for an instant Victoria glimpsed a flicker of regret in his dark eyes. Then his hands were firmly taking her shoulders and drawing her toward him. Automatically her head tipped back to meet his descending mouth. His kiss was warm and fiercely gentle. Victoria couldn't believe that Dirk could kiss her like this, with all this leashed hunger, and then leave. Her arms wound around his neck as she arched on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. His hands slid over her shoulder bones to press her close to his length and the hard male shape of him that was so familiar to her flesh. Just for a minute a flame leaped to consume them both; then Dirk was reaching up to pull her arms from around his neck and set her away.
"All you have to do is ask me to stay," he told her.
She stared at him helplessly, an enormous lump in her throat. With a wry, grimacing smile, Dirk turned away and walked to the carriage. She stood where he had left her, not really believing he would leave. He motioned to the driver who clicked to the horse and tapped his whip on its rump. Dirk was rubbing the back of his neck in a weary gesture as the carriage moved away from the curb. Victoria waited for him to look back at her, but he never did. Some vital part was wrenched from her soul and went with him. She stayed by the door until he was out of sight.
"Dirk, will you stay?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper, but, of course, he didn't hear her. An icy shudder wracked her body and she hugged her arms around her.
The front door burst open and Penny came flying out. "Couldn't you make him stay?" she moaned.
"No." Her chin quivered in weak betrayal as her eyes became filled with tears.
"Did you ask him?" Penny demanded.
"No," Victoria admitted and turned to walk into the house.
"Has Dirk gone?" her mother inquired when she entered the foyer. Victoria managed a faint nod of affirmation. Her heart silently echoed her mother's sigh of regret. "Your father and I were just going to have our breakfast. Why don't you join us, Tory?"
She shook her head and walked blindly to the stairs, her vision blurred by the gathering tears. "I'm not hungry." Victoria knew the choked tightness of her voice was a betrayal, but she couldn't hide it.
The tears slithered down her cheeks as she climbed the stairs to her room. She sat on the edge of her bed and rocked slowly back and forth, letting the tears fall unchecked.
"If you are crying because he's gone, why didn't you ask him to stay?" Penny frowned, standing in the doorway.
"I couldn't," she managed.
"Why?" Her sister was plainly confused.
Lena Beaumont entered the room. "Tory, are you all right?" She walked to the bed and sat down beside Victoria, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder.
"Yes." The nod of assurance wavered.
"She's crying because Dirk left but she wouldn't ask him to stay," Penny explained.
"Did you want him to stay?" her mother asked.
Victoria lifted her shoulders in an uncertain shrug. "I don't know," she whispered.
"Are you in love with him?"
"I've barely known him a week." she reminded her mother with a tearful laugh.
"Love isn't measured by time, dear. A woman can be married to a man for twenty years and never know him at all. It's just something that happens or doesn't," Lena reasoned.
"How can I be sure?" Victoria shook her head in confusion. "Love is something you have to take on faith. There are no certainties," she murmured. "Does Dirk love you?"
"I don't know." She wiped at the river of tears swamping her cheeks. "He told me he didn't want to get married for several years yet. So…He cared, but…" She couldn't finish it.
"Are you going to see him again?" Penny asked.
Again Victoria shrugged. "He said goodbye, so I don't suppose I will."
"But he might," her sister offered hopefully. "You said that he cared about you. If he does he'll see you again."
"He said he would stay if I asked him, but I didn't ask," Victoria explained.
"Why?" It was her mother who asked this time.
"Because I don't know if he wanted to stay because I'm Charles Beaumont's daughter or because he cared about me. It's something I don't think you understand, mom," she said tightly.
"I do," Penny spoke up. "Millie van Bolten used to be my best friend. Do you know why? Because we have a tennis court at our house. That's the only reason she always wanted
to come over."
"You've learned that, too, have you?" Victoria exchanged a sad smile with her sister.
"Who needs Millie van Bolten?" Penny shrugged.
"Who needs Dirk Ramsey?" Victoria copied the gesture, but she knew the two didn't compare. She may have only known him a week, but it would be a long time before she got over him.
Chapter Eleven
THE CITY STREET was lined with shabby brick buildings and their cobweb of rusty fire escapes, and sets of concrete steps leading from the sidewalk to the individual entrances. Victoria parked her car at the curb, slipping the strap of her purse over her shoulder before reaching for the bag of groceries on the passenger seat.
When she stepped out of the car a blustery autumn wind whipped a section of yesterday's newspaper against her leg, then chased it down the street. Locking the door, she shut it and walked around the hood to the cracked cement walk with its tufts of brown grass growing through the fissures. The sky was leaden and depressing, its dull gray color doing nothing to uplift the tedious row of apartment buildings.
Carrying the grocery bag in front of her Victoria started toward the building in the center of the block. It was easily distinguishable from the others since it was the only one with a hand rail on the concrete steps.
"Hey there, Queenie! What 'cha doin'?" A young male voice hailed her from across the street.
A half smile was already curving her mouth when she turned. "Hi, Rick," she greeted the youth jogging across the street toward her. Another boy was with him but Victoria didn't know him. She smiled at him, anyway.
"Long time no see," Rick declared, stopping in front of her. His hand flicked out to touch the grocery bag. "Ya on your way to granny's house."
"Yes, I'm running a little late though. Mrs. Ogden has probably given up on me," she sighed.
"Who's Mrs. Ogden?" the other boy asked.
"Ah, you know her. The old lady that lives downstairs from me," Rick informed him with little patience. "Queenie, this is my friend Fred. Fred, this is Queenie. She brings granny her groceries 'cause she's too crippled to leave the apartment."
"Hello, Fred." Victoria acknowledged the introduction with a nod.
"'lo," he mumbled, eyeing her uncertainly, but she was used to being regarded with suspicion in this neighborhood.
"Shouldn't you boys be in school?" she frowned as she happened to glance at her watch and noticed it was still very early in the afternoon.
"Naw, we got ourselves expelled," Rick replied in a faintly bragging tone.
"Yeah, by the big man hisself," his friend added.
"What kind of trouble did you get into this time?" Victoria asked, since it was an occurrence that seemed to happen about once a month.
"The big man, he conducted hisself a little illegal search and seizure," Rick explained. He could speak excellent English, but when he was with his friends he used the language of the street.
"Yeah, and when he happen to find a knife like this one—" the boy named Fred proudly flashed a switchblade "—he expelled us."
"I thought you said he took yours," Victoria reminded him.
Rick took one from his pocket and snapped it open. "We just got ourselves another." He shrugged, then eyed his friend and laughed.
"A fella needs protection," Fred laughed.
"What you get is trouble," Victoria replied.
"You got yourself trouble," Rick said, gesturing at her with his knife. "I don't remember you bein' so skinny. How come you work so hard when you don't have to?"
"To keep from being bored," she answered rather than admit it was to keep her mind occupied with something other than thoughts of Dirk Ramsey. Yet working hadn't helped her appetite or let her fall asleep any quicker at night. which was the longest part of any day.
"Man! lf I had that car—" Fred pointed to hers "—I sure wouldn't be bored."
"Ain't that the truth." Rick began cleaning under his fingernails with the pointed end of the switchblade knife.
"I'd better get up to Mrs. Ogden's before this milk starts to sour," she stated.
"Me and Fred better go along with you. We got some punks that moved onto the block. They ain't learned their manners, yet," Rick explained.
"I'd like the company," she agreed.
Brakes squealed as a shiny black sports car swerved to a stop at the curb near them. Shock drained, the color from her face when she saw Dirk step quickly out of the car and come swiftly around the hood to the sidewalk.
"What are you doing here, Dirk?" she asked in disbelief. Not a word from him in three months and to have him show up on this particular street was stretching coincidence too far.
"I was in town so I called your parents to say hello," Other than a brief assessing look at her wan face, his gaze hadn't left the two young men eyeing him so warily. "Your mother mentioned that she had expected you back an hour ago. When she gave me this address I realized why she sounded worried."
"As you can see, I'm all right," Victoria frowned, feeling a twinge of rejection in his attitude. He didn't appear interested at all in seeing her again. He'd only come to soothe her mother's needless fears.
He slipped a hand under her elbow. "Just the same, you're coming with me."
"No, I'm not." She shrugged her arm out of his grasp and took a step away.
"I don't want to argue with you, Tory," Dirk said flatly.
"The lady don't have to go with you if she don't want to," Rick inserted. "She's got business here."
"You just put those knives away and butt out," Dirk warned.
"Hey! He wants us to put our knives away," Fred laughed.
"Maybe he's worried about gettin' that handsome face of his all cut up," Rick joined in.
"Don't try it, guys." Every nerve was alert. Victoria saw the ruthless line of Dirk's mouth and knew he meant it.
"I think he's threatening us." Fred took a step backward in mock fear.
"Maybe we should do a little threatening of our own, huh?" Rick waved his blade in front of him. Victoria had known Rick for almost three years. She could tell by the mischievous light in his eyes that he was only teasing. Her concern was only for the embarrassment he was causing himself with such juvenile behavior. Rick make a swipe with his knife toward Dirk, but it was a swing that was intended to be short of its mark. Instead of stepping backward to avoid the sharp blade, Dirk stepped in behind it and grabbed the boy's wrist, twisting it behind his back and hooking an elbow around Rick's throat all in one motion. The knife clattered to the pavement. Rick clawed at the muscled arm.
"Hey man! You gonna break my neck!" he protested hoarsely.
"Let him go, Dirk," Victoria added her pleas to the boy's. "He didn't mean any harm."
"We was just funnin'," Fred insisted, folding his knife closed and backing off.
When Dirk released the boy he pushed him forward to sprawl on the sidewalk. Watching both of them carefully, he reached down and picked up the knife that had fallen. He snapped it shut, but held it for another instant.
"On my street, you never flashed a knife unless you were going to use it. You'd better keep that in mind the next time, man," Dirk advised and tossed the closed knife to Rick. He sliced a glance at Victoria. "Are you ready to come with me?"
"I have to take these groceries up to Mrs. Ogden's. She lives in that middle building," she retorted.
"Okay, then I'm coming with you." His hand slid under her elbow again as he took a step then paused to glance at the youths sidling away from him. "Is this your turf?"
"Yeah," Rick admitted with faint defiance as he rubbed his arm and flexed it.
Dirk took a bill from his pocket and handed it to him. "Watch my car. I wouldn't like to come back and find the tires slashed."
"You got it!" the boy grinned.
"All right. Now let's go." He ushered her forward to the set of steps with the handrail. He glanced at the street number painted above the row of mailboxes. "Your father owns this building, doesn't he? I seem to remember the address when
I did some background work on him."
"Yes, he does," Victoria retorted defensively. "You'll find that all the electrical wiring is new, the plumbing works as well as the furnace."
"I know." There was a lazy curve to his mouth that told her he'd already verified that several months ago. "Who's the punk? One of your secret admirers?"
"Do you mean Rick? He lives in the building. Since I've started stopping by to see Mrs. Ogden, we've become friends," she explained. "He really wasn't going to hurt you."
"He didn't look very friendly when I drove up." Dirk opened the main door to the building and held it for her.
"Did you think they were assaulting me?" The possibility just occurred to her.
"The sight of two street toughs stopping a beautiful woman on a sidewalk just to show her their knives is not very common," he reminded her dryly. "Which floor is your lady friend on?"
"The second one," she answered. "That is what Rick was doing—showing me his knife," she elaborated. "The principal expelled them from school for carrying them."
As she led the way up the steps, Victoria realized that they were both behaving as if it hadn't been three months since they'd last seen each other. Yet there was a new feeling present that she hadn't known before—the sensation of being protected.
Several weeks ago she had accepted the fact that she was in love with him, but since he'd made no effort to get in touch with her she had decided it was one-sided. Seeing him again was reinforcing the emotion and giving her a thread of hope that it wasn't unrequited. Suddenly she had an attack of nerves.
"How…have you been?" She darted him a guarded look and noticed there were more hard lines cut into his features and the hollows under his cheekbones seemed leaner.
His gaze touched her briefly, but he didn't answer the question. "Which apartment is hers?"
"The second one on the right." She stood to one side while he knocked on it.
"Who is it?" Mrs. Ogden's aging voice cracked in demand.
