by Janet Dailey
"I really don't know," she answered haltingly.
"Oh? I understood Flint was here to see you this week." His head tilted inquiringly toward her. "I presume he came to discuss business. Perhaps it was of a more personal nature?"
"It…it…w-was rather strange circumstances that brought him here," Casey stammered. "Besides, he usually talks everything over with my father."
"Yes, he probably would. No offense, Casey, but I can't really see my son reporting to a woman, even a liberated one," he chuckled.
"Flint has told us so much about your family that Luke and I are really looking forward to meeting them sometime." Meg McCallister changed the subject easily, drawing Casey's attention away from the older version of Flint.
Casey took the opportunity, now that the initial shock of meeting someone who looked so much like Flint had worn away, to study his mother. Her auburn hair was a shade redder than Flint's, even though it was elegantly peppered with gray, and when she smiled as she was doing now, there were two youthful dimples in her cheeks.
"Did you know that it was only after Flint met your father that he decided to take the job?" Meg asked. "Flint respects him a great deal."
"I know dad thinks a lot of him, too," Casey admitted. "Just knowing he had someone as experienced and competent as Flint made it easier for dad to accept the fact that he would have to stay in the hospital. It eased mother's mind, too, knowing there was a man in charge."
"You have a very rare trait, Casey." A voice spoke from behind her. "Praising a man behind his back and damning him to his face. Very unusual."
The blood washed out of her face at the sound of the voice. She nearly tipped the pitcher of lemonade over as she spun in her chair to face it. Flint stood directly behind her, looking down at her with a peculiarly pleased smile on his face. She wanted to run, to hide, but she was hypnotized by Flint's mocking gaze.
"I brought Mark along with me, but I think he went down to inspect the beach. He's a remarkable expert on the different kinds of fish that are found in the lake." His eyes released her as he turned to his parents. "Mom, dad, all set for a weekend on the water?"
"I plan to catch my limit." Lucas rose and took his son's hand. "You caught us all by surprise. We didn't expect to see you." Lucas cast the still slightly dazed Casey a compassionate glance. Flint followed it.
"Don't mind her. She's usually this overjoyed to see me," he said as he turned toward his mother. "My ears have been burning for the last thirty miles. You must have been talking about me,"
"What a conceited male ego!" Gabbie exclaimed, handing Flint a frosty glass of lemonade and pushing him into a nearby chair.
"You were only discussed indirectly." Meg included Casey in her smile which Casey found hard put to return. "We were actually getting to know Casey, so if your name was mentioned, it was inadvertent."
"What I'd like to know, Flint, is why you never told us what a charming lady Casey was?" Lucas demanded, leaning closer to his son. "I always thought you had quite a good eye for beauty."
Casey's face was suffused with color. She didn't know how much more of this family matchmaking she could take, especially with Flint regarding her reactions with so much interest. It wasn't any consolation telling herself it was only good-natured teasing. And it was very apparent that no one was going to come to her rescue. But of course, they couldn't know the pain their innocent teasing caused. Flint was taking such delight in her discomfort.
"Hey, sis!" Mark bounded onto the veranda, his face wreathed in a smile. "This is really a super place! Boy, I wish I could have spent a week here. You can take my place on the ranch any time."
Casey rose quickly to greet him, fighting off the desire to cling to him as if he were a life preserver. He was just too grown up for any affectionate greetings. Just standing beside him gave her extra courage when Flint spoke up to introduce Mark to his parents.
"I've heard the fishing is terrific here," said Mark after Flint mentioned that his parents were here for that purpose. "They've had some record- size catches, haven't they? I've heard people fly in from Texas just to fish here."
Lucas McCallister was quick to take up the change of conversation, which Casey was eternally thankful for. It gave her a chance to check her clamoring heart while Flint and his father regaled Mark with tales of fish that got away. It was exquisitely sweet torment to study Flint unobserved, to mark in her memory forever the leanness of his cheeks, the dark lashes that lazily veiled his eyes, and his brown hair that caught a hint of the sun's fire. But when her gaze strayed to the sensual curve of his mouth, shivers raced down her spine, leaving a burning trail of fire that spread throughout her body. The yearning to feel those lips on hers again was overpowering. Stripped of all her defenses and conscious of only one person, Casey nearly leaped from her chair when a hand touched her arm.
"It's lunchtime," Gabbie spoke quietly, her blue green eyes sympathizing with the agony mirrored in Casey's. "Would you like to give me a hand?"
"Of course," Casey agreed, somehow avoiding contact with Flint's gaze as it narrowed on her.
"I'm sorry I startled you." Gabbie touched her arm comfortingly as they walked into the house. "But your face is terribly transparent sometimes. I didn't think you'd want Flint to see. Although I would have, so I could tell him what an utter fool I thought he was."
"Thank you," Casey murmured, knowing how shamed she would have felt if Flint had looked up at her earlier and surprised that look of love that must have been on her face. "It's not his fault that he's not in love with me. It's just one of those things that happens or it doesn't."
"Some people get the measles, too, but they get over them a lot faster you know." The cynicism in Gabbie's voice was quite apparent and touching.
"You make it sound as if heartbreak lasts forever," Casey laughed weakly, trying to add a bit of lightness to the conversation that was threatening to bring tears to her eyes. But Gabbie just looked at her with a glance that plainly asked, "Doesn't it?"
Both of the girls were aware that it would do no good to discuss the situation any further. They were a silent and grim team, retrieving the tray of already prepared sandwiches from the refrigerator, and the salads and the chips. It only took two trips from the kitchen to the table on the veranda and practically everything had been carried out. Only a bowl of potato salad, the napkins and the silverware were left to be fetched. Casey was a trifle mystified when Mark offered to help her. He was not usually so concerned about giving assistance even when it was his stomach involved. She became even more puzzled when, once they were in the kitchen, he shuffled back and forth on his feet nervously.
"This isn't like you, Mark," she jested, "volunteering for women's work."
"I wanted to talk to you." His glance bounced off her face as he lowered his voice. "Mr. McCallister just offered to take me fishing and I didn't know if I'd get another chance to talk to you alone."
"What's the matter?" Casey asked, the confiding tone in his voice startling her. "You certainly are old enough not to ask my permission to go along."
"I don't mean that." His forehead creased in a very determined frown. "You'll be coming back to the ranch in another week and there's something I think you should know. I thought it would be better coming from family than from a stranger telling you."
Casey longed to urge him to tell her what he was talking about, but it was so obvious from his serious, adultlike voice that it was difficult for him to explain and it embarrassed him as well. Not in her wildest imagination. Could she think of anything so dire that it would concern Mark, and it certainly couldn't be anything to do with Flint.
"Since you've been gone, Smitty has been seeing Brenda Fairlie," Mark blurted out in a rush, his cheeks a brilliant shade of red. Casey nearly sighed with relief. "The day you left, he took her out. They went to some restaurant and she started putting on airs like she always does. Smitty told her off, but she must have liked the caveman technique because she nearly fell in his arms apologizing. They'
ve been inseparable ever since. Now, there's even talk that she won't be going back to college this fall." Mark glanced at his sister to see how she was taking the news.
The tears in her eyes weren't for the loss of Smitty, but for the sudden attack of brotherly devotion Mark had just shown. She wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him tightly, but she knew she could never do that. He had no other option but to assume that those tears were for Smitty.
"Thank you for telling me." Her voice was husky, but her smile at him was quite sincere.
"Well, I knew you and Smitty were a pretty steady couple. And I thought…well, it'd be easier if you knew before…"
"It is," she answered simply. Casey glanced around her quickly, her eyes coming to a stop on the large bowl on the counter. "Here, you take the potato salad and I'll bring the rest in a minute."
"If you like, I can tell them you had to wash the silverware or something. I mean, if you need time to—"
"I'll be right there, Mark. I'm fine really," she assured him.
Casey honestly thought she was. She even smiled at Mark as he walked out of the room. She told herself that she was glad for Smitty and Brenda as she leaned against the sink. Good old steady Smitty, her lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears. This time he wouldn't be there, not even as a friend, because Brenda would never understand. Not that Smitty probably would have comforted her anyway, she thought as a couple of tears trickled down her cheeks. He had warned her about Flint and would have been more apt to say "I told you so" than offer solace. Still, it was like removing another rock from the already shaky foundation of her life.
"Did Mark mention that he was going fishing with my father?"
Casey stiffened at Flint's voice, but she didn't turn around. "Yes, yes, he did."
"I thought we could drive up to visit your father." He was walking closer.
"Whatever you say." Her voice rang out harshly. She suddenly felt too tired emotionally to argue with him, so she busied her hands with the silverware spread on the counter top. "I'll be out just as soon as I get this silver gathered together."
His fingers gripped her chin and twisted her face up toward him. Casey summoned all her pride to stare defiantly into his iron-gray eyes. There was no way he could miss the trail of tears.
"I was eavesdropping," Flint stated unapologetically. "I didn't realize Smitty's defection would affect you this deeply."
"There's a lot of things about me and my feelings you don't know, Mr. McCallister." She pushed his unresisting hand from her chin, then wiped away the telltale marks on her face.
"Every time I think I'm beginning to understand you, you change colors like a chameleon." Irritation laced his words.
"First I was a prickle poppy, now I'm a chameleon." A brightly defiant gleam sparkled out of Casey's brown eyes. "You're not very consistent yourself!"
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Chapter Sixteen
"HAVE YOU TALKED THIS OVER with Flint?" Lucille Gilmore inquired, her blue eyes studying the tension-filled face of her daughter.
"With Flint? What has he got to do with it? What business is it of his?" Casey cried. "If I can't stay at Aunt Jo's, then I'll stay in a motel. But I'm not going back there!"
After an almost endless ride with Flint from Ogallala to the hospital in Scottsbluff, Casey had reached breaking point. It didn't matter any more if what she was proposing was cowardly, a form of running away. She just knew that she couldn't make that long ride back to Gabbie's with Flint. The agony of being so close to him, of enduring the stilted conversations between them, was tortuous. That was why Casey had lost no time in persuading her mother to walk with her to the lobby where she made her painful plea.
"Darling, it's not a question of whether Aunt Jo has room for you. Of course she does." Lucille moved her arm around Casey's shoulders in comfort. "That was a stupid remark I made, too, asking if you'd told Flint. Under the circumstances, that would hardly be likely, would it?"
Her mother's face blurred slightly as Casey stared at her. Did she know how she felt about him? Could she possibly have guessed?
"Now what kind of mother would I be if I couldn't even guess when my daughter fell in love? Here—" she rummaged in her purse and withdrew a set of keys "—these are for Aunt Jo's car in the parking lot. I'll make some excuse to Flint and your father. You run along and we'll talk later."
"Oh, mother!" Casey hugged her tightly, clasping the keys to freedom in her hand. "Thank you," she whispered fervently.
Her mouth was pressed firmly shut as she disentangled herself from her mother's arms, but she managed to smile gratefully at her before she hurried down the hall to the hospital exit. The parking lot was full of cars from weekend visitors. Casey scanned the rows trying to locate the yellow sedan belonging to her aunt. Panic raced through her as she failed to find it. It had to be there! It just had to be there!
The next thing she knew she was being seized roughly by the shoulders and pushed toward the green station wagon that had brought her here. She had a fleeting glimpse of a yellow sedan in the next row of cars. Flint didn't waste time on politeness, but shoved Casey into the wagon on the driver's side. She grabbed for the opposite handle to yank it open.
"Don't waste your time. It's locked." But he caught hold of her hand for insurance and managed to start the car and reverse it with his free hand.
"You let me out of this car!" Casey demanded, twisting and turning her wrist, trying to free it from his hold so she could escape to the yellow car.
Flint gave her a cold look before returning his stormy gaze to the road in front of him.
"I never thought you were one of those weak women who run off and hide when their feelings get hurt. Just because some wet-nosed kid—" He inhaled deeply, but didn't finish his sentence.
"You're hurting my arm!"
Casey made no attempt to mask the pain in her voice as she enunciated as sharp and as clear as she could. Flint glanced at her meaningfully.
"I'm not about to commit suicide by jumping out of the car when it's traveling as fast as this," Casey pointed out.
Flint slackened the speed and released Casey's hand. They were on a graveled road now with the town behind them. There was a scattering of houses, then the countryside spread out before them, isolated fields of irrigated crops amidst the rolling hills. Finally Flint ground the car to a halt on the shoulder. Casey riveted her gaze to a distant sandstone bluff, fighting the powerful pull as gray eyes ordered her to look at him.
"I know it was a terrible blow hearing about Smitty." His voice was low and controlled. "But it will pass, Casey. You just have to give yourself time."
"Spare me the platitudes," Casey groaned, her hands reaching up to cover her ears.
"Why do you huddle against the door like that? I'm only trying to help." His gentle entreaty brought a louder pounding of her heart and an increased trembling to her body. It was nearly impossible not to respond to his coaxing tone.
A hard, callused hand reached up and captured one of Casey's hands, not roughly as before, but tenderly as one would hold a frightened bird. It would have been so easy to draw it away that Casey left it there.
"You'll meet someone else who will mean just as much to you," he said softly.
This time she turned to meet the shadowed eyes. She stared into the face of the man she adored with all her heart. A cry broke from her lips. "No, no, I never will!"
Sparks from the fire in his eyes darted over her before Flint doused them. "Of course you will," he answered with fierce determination.
"You're…you're being very kind, Flint." She looked away, blinking hastily at the tears rushing to fill her eyes. "But…but it…it just doesn't help right now."
"Oh, God, Casey, please don't cry," Flint moaned, covering the small distance between them before Casey could protest and drawing her into his arms. "I can't stand to see you cry," he declared, burying his face in her hair as Casey struggled ineffectually against the firmness of his embrace.
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"Please, please let me go!" It was a breathless plea, one that her mind demanded she make while the rest of her reveled in his nearness.
He laughed bitterly, moving away so he could look down on his helpless prisoner. "Gabbie told me today I was fifty kinds of a fool for treating you the way I do. What she doesn't know is it's the only way I can keep my hands off you." Casey couldn't stop the little gasping cry at his words. "Even now, knowing those tears on your cheeks are for another man," Flint stated gruffly, "all I want to do is make love to you." He stared at the tremulous smile on her lips. "Does that amuse you?"
"No," she whispered, her dark eyes glowing with the unbelievable happiness.
"It should."
Her fingers reached up to still his voice and remained trembling on the sensual male mouth. "Are…are you saying you love me?" Casey murmured.
"If you want it in black and white, then yes, I love you!"
She caught her breath at the violence in his voice. Her eyes closed to savor the glory of this moment before she spoke in a shaky but happy voice. "It's only fair to tell you that…that these tears are for a man who I thought only considered me a prickle poppy."
His hand jerked her chin upward so he could stare into her face. "You mean Smitty isn't…"
"I mean I love you, Flint McCallister." It was unbelievable that those calm, composed words came from her throbbing body.
There was a split second of utter stillness before Flint covered her parted lips with his, possessively taking all the love she was giving and returning it tenfold. The next moments were tempestuous, heat-filled ones that threatened to continue until Flint determinedly held her away.
"When I think of the hell you've put me through, I could wring that precious neck!" The husky vibration in his voice shot quivering goose bumps of excitement through Casey. "I couldn't believe you didn't love me, but you denied it so violently the day I took you to Gabbie's that I had to believe you. But I wanted so badly for you to know my family as well as I knew yours."
