by Janet Dailey
Show Me
Janet Dailey
An [ e - reads ] Book
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, scanning or any information storage retrieval system, without explicit permission in writing from the Author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 1976 by Janet Dailey
First e-reads publication 1999
www.e-reads.com
ISBN 0-7952-4575-4
Author Biography
Janet Dailey was born Janet Haradon in 1944 in Storm Lake, Iowa. She attended secretarial school in Omaha, Nebraska before meeting her husband, Bill. Bill and Janet worked together in construction and land development until they “retired” to travel throughout the United States, inspiring Janet to write the Americana series of romances.
In 1974, Janet Dailey was the first American author to write for Harlequin, her first novel was NO QUARTER ASKED. She has since gone on to write approximately 90 novels, 21 of which have appeared on The New York Times bestseller list. She has won many awards and accolades for her work, appearing widely on Radio and Television. Today, there are over three-hundred million Janet Dailey books in print in 19 different languages, making her one of the most popular novelists in the world.
Other works in Janet Dailey’s Americana Series also available in e-reads editions
Dangerous Masquerade
Northern Magic
Sonora Sundown
Valley Of the Vapours
Fire And Ice
After the Storm
Difficult Decision
The Matchmakers
Southern Nights
Night Of The Cotillion
Kona Winds
The Travelling Kind
A Lyon’s Share
The Indy Man
The Homeplace
The Mating Season
Bluegrass King
The Bride Of The Delta Queen
Summer Mahogany
Bed Of Grass
That Boston Man
Enemy In Camp
Giant Of Mesabi
A Tradition Of Pride
Big Sky Country
Boss Man From Ogallala
Reilly’s Woman
Heart Of Stone
One Of The Boys
Land Of Enchantment
Beware Of The Stranger
That Carolina Summer
Lord Of the High Lonesome
The Widow And The Wastrel
Six White Horses
To Tell The Truth
The Thawing Of Mara
Strange Bedfellow
Low Country Liar
Dakota Dreamin’
Sentimental Journey
Savage Land
A Land Called Deseret
Green Mountain Man
Tide water Lover
For Mike’s Sake
Wild And Wonderful
With A Little Luck
Darling Jenny
Preface
When I first started writing back in the Seventies, my husband Bill and I were retired and traveling all over the States with our home — a 34’ travel trailer — in tow. That’s when Bill came up with the great idea of my writing a romance novel set in each one of our fifty states. It was an idea I ultimately accomplished before switching to mainstream fiction and hitting all the international bestseller lists.
As we were preparing to reissue these early titles, I initially planned to update them all — modernize them, so to speak, and bring them into the new high-tech age. Then I realized I couldn’t do that successfully any more than I could take a dress from the Seventies and redesign it into one that would look as if it were made yesterday. That’s when I saw that the true charm of these novels is their look back on another time and another age. Over the years, they have become historical novels, however recent the history. When you read them yourself, I know you will feel the same.
So, enjoy, and happy reading to all!
Introduction
Introducing JANET DAILEY AMERICANA. Every novel in this collection is your passport to a romantic tour of the United States through time-honored favorites by America’s First Lady of romance fiction. Each of the fifty novels is set in a different state, researched by Janet and her husband, Bill. For the Daileys it was an odyssey of discovery. For you, it’s the journey of a lifetime.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Show Me
Chapter One
THE ASPHALT ROAD snaked along the ridge, writhing and slithering its way towards Dewey Bald. Here and there the trees fell away to allow a panoramic glimpse of the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. The sylvan hillsides were coloured in a myriad spring greens, from the deep hues of the cedars all the way to the pale greens of newly budding trees, an array as spectacular as autumn’s bold splashes. The burgeoning world was highlighted by the mauve shades of the redbud tree and the symbolic white blossoms of the flowering dogwood, while the rock-strewn ground burst forth with an explosion of wild spring flowers.
‘Can we stop at Sammy’s Lookout?’
The small, questioning voice drew Tanya Lassiter’s wandering gaze away from the road and scenery ahead of them. Her mouth curved into a smile as she gazed at the silently pleading blue eyes staring so earnestly back at her. Baby-fine brown hair covered his forehead, softening the effect of his pointed chin. No one else could have a little boy as beautiful and intelligent as her John, Tanya thought to herself with a warm glow of satisfaction. At seven, he was as impish and happy and curious as anyone would want their child to be. Who could remain immune to the entreaty of those trusting eyes that invariably reminded her of the clear blue colour of warm summer skies — so unlike Jake’s, his father, whose eyes held the metallic sheen of blue steel.
‘Can we?’ John repeated.
‘We can for a little while,’ Tanya agreed. Her lips had tightened fractionally and she forced them to relax. ‘But Grandmother will have supper for us, so we can’t stay too long.’
There was no enthusiastic response from John, causing Tanya to glance wonderingly at his averted head. His thoughtful pose, as he gazed out the side window of the station wagon, arched one of her delicate brows before it settled back into place. Whatever was troubling John would soon be confided to her once he had methodically thought it through on his own.
Tanya was busy locking the car doors while John waited with thinly disguised impatience a few feet away from where the wagon was parked along the road. The pullover sweater vest matched the thin maroon stripe in her slacks with the complementing background of cream yellow in her long-sleeved blouse. Sliding out from behind the wheel and closing the door, she smoothed her hair into its band and hurried to join the slender boy in his light blue windbreaker and crisp blue jeans.
Together they traversed the few hundred yards back to the big grey stone overlooking Mutton Hollow and the trail that was nobody knows how old. They made a striking pair, one tall, lithe and feminine, the other exhibiting the vitality of youth in a masculine miniature. While John made straight for the large, slate-grey rock, Tanya sought the seclusion of a small boulder farther up the hillside. It denied her the view of the valley, but it hid her from the sight of passing motorists on the road just below. The traffic was mostly
local now. The tourist jam would come with the summer sun.
The boy stood on the rock, gazing out over the scenery, his legs spread apart in a proud stance with his hands on his hips. In some ways, John was like herself. On the surface he possessed an outgoing personality, gregarious, fun-loving and always curious, but he, like Tanya, had those moments when he enjoyed being alone with his own thoughts. There were times when she felt that at seven years old John was too serious, too contemplative and too much in the company of adults, but with children his own age in school, there was never any reserve or any inability to relate to his peers. So she had marked her worry off to an over-abundance of conscience.
Leaning back against the slanting hillside, Tanya watched the sun slowly settling on the western slopes. The bright plumage of a male robin darted in front of her as he flew in attendance on his chosen mate. A surging ache rose from deep inside, shooting through her limbs until she wanted to hug her arms about her to ward off the pain. This was the natural mating season and Tanya recognized the inexplicable longing inside was the same desire for a mate of her own. She was a woman, a twenty-six-year-old female of her species, in need of a male to love, the simplest and oldest truth of life.
There was no vanity in recognizing her own beauty. And Tanya was beautiful. Long hair that hesitated between light brown and blonde with occasional natural streaks of shimmering honey was brushed straight back from her smooth forehead in a leonine style that was vastly becoming to her perfect features. There was a classic lift to her cheekbones and nose, and a warm, sensuous mouth that could transform the cool, marble beauty of her face into enticing witchery with a smile. But it was her tawny, gold-flecked eyes that kept the shutters closed on the smouldering passions that lay below the surface.
Nothing remained of the haunted, slightly vengeful young girl who had come to these hills over seven years ago with a boy child in her arms. The influence and example of her mother-in-law, Julia Lassiter, had erased the schoolgirl image and replaced it with a poised, sophisticated young woman. Only one thing remained, Tanya thought with carefully nurtured bitterness, and that was her loathing of Jake Lassiter, the man whose name she bore. The only saving grace of her marriage had been that she had John. He belonged to her and could never be taken away — as long as she remained married to Jake.
‘Mother?’
The lids that had drifted down over her burnished tan eyes fluttered open. Tanya straightened to sit erectly as John settled on the ground beside her, a tanned hand plucking at the sprouting grass.
‘Yes, John?’ Tanya curled her arms around her knees and waited.
‘Do I really have a father?’
Only for a second did the shock of his question register on her face. ’Of course you do.’ Her heart thudded a little louder in her chest, but there was no other outward sign that his words had disconcerted her.
‘I mean, is he really alive?’ This time the troubled blue eyes stared into her face, earnest and searching.
‘Yes, he’s alive. You yourself have brought his letters from home from the mailbox. Whatever made you think that he wasn’t?’ Tanya tried to laugh lightly, but it came out shrill and without amusement.
‘Danny Gilbert said he must be dead or in prison or he’d come home. He isn’t in prison, is he?’
‘No, darling, he isn’t in prison. He’s somewhere in Africa right now.’ Her arm went around the slim shoulders, drawing the tense boy against her body, afraid he would see that she had no wish to talk about Jake Lassiter. ‘He works for your grandfather, remember? And there’s a big dam or bridge or something being built over there and your grandfather’s company is supervising the work. Your father is over there making sure it’s done right.’
‘But why doesn’t he ever come home? And why don’t we ever go to visit him? Doesn’t he want to see us?’ The silky brown head pulled away from the hand that was stroking it to gaze in confusion at the frown creasing Tanya’s forehead.
‘He will come home some day,’ she attempted to reassure him, but the very ambiguousness of her answer defeated her. ‘He’s very busy.’
‘Everybody gets vacations. Why can’t he take a vacation and come visit us?’
‘He did do that once.’ Not daring to add that Jake had ostensibly come home for a month’s stay and had left after a week.
‘I was a baby.’ The child rebuffed her answer in a disgruntled tone. ‘Three years old, Grandmother said. I don’t remember him at all.’
‘Have … have you discussed this with your grandmother?’ Tanya asked hesitantly. One more black mark would go against Tanya in her mother-in-law’s book if he had.
‘No.’ John lifted his shoulders in an expressive little shrug. ’I only asked her how old I was when I got that ivory statue of an elephant. You told me my father brought it home to me as a present.’
Yes, Tanya remembered his question several days before, but had given it no special significance. A tiny sigh of relief escaped her lips.
‘Can we visit him this summer after school is finished?’
‘It … Your fa …’ She stumbled desperately to find a way of refusing the request without adding more fuel to John’s growing opinion that his father wanted nothing to do with him. It was there in the defeated dullness of his eyes. ‘The political situation over there isn’t such that we can.’
‘I knew you’d say something like that.’ The pseudo-adult bitterness in his voice lashed out at her with the smarting flick of a whip.
‘Perhaps,’ Tanya swallowed nervously, hating the suggestion that was forming on her lips, ‘we could write a letter to your father tonight and see if he could arrange to come home for a couple of weeks this summer.’
A small hand brushed the silken brown hair away from his forehead as John turned to stare into her face, a half-hopeful expression in his eyes. Unwillingly, her gaze strayed to the crooked little finger, the mark that from birth had affirmed his right to the Lassiter name.
‘Do you think he would come?’ he asked.
Secretly she hoped he wouldn’t, but the silent prayer that Jake would refuse died as she gazed into the boy’s face. ‘If it’s at all possible, I’m sure he will, especially if you write to ask him.’ Tanya had never tried to encourage any correspondence between father and son, unwilling to share John’s love with the man she loathed. Only at Christmas time and birthdays did she prompt John to send a thank-you note for the packages that dutifully arrived in the mails.
‘We’d better get home.’ John hopped to his feet, a wide beaming smile splitting his face.
‘John, just because we write your father,’ Tanya spoke quietly several minutes later as she turned the station wagon onto the lake road leading home, ‘there’s no guarantee that he’ll be able to come back to the States.’
‘I know. But he will come, I know he will!’ The determination in the small boy’s voice reminded her how strong the bond was between a father and son. Much as she wanted to ignore her husband’s existence, for John’s sake she couldn’t. ‘Besides,’ John went on, ‘I’ve been thinking that maybe he thinks I don’t care about him. If he knows how much I want to see him, he’ll come home. I’m sure of it.’
‘Well, perhaps if not this summer, he might be able to come in the fall or even at Christmas time. Don’t build your hopes up too high, John. He may not be able to get away.’
‘I wish he could come home now so Danny Gilbert could see that I really do have a father and that he really has been in Africa.’ He glanced earnestly at her. ‘Can we write that letter right after supper?’
‘Yes, right after supper,’ Tanya promised with a little sinking of her heart.
‘And we’ll send it airmail so he’ll get it right away?’
‘Yes, we’ll send it airmail,’ She nodded reluctantly.
‘Uncle Patrick’s car is in the drive,’ John announced gaily at the sight of the silver El Dorado parked in front of the ultra-modern ranch-style home. ‘It’s been ages since he’s been here.’
&nbs
p; ‘Only a little over a week,’ she corrected, her eyes sparkling too, at the sight of the familiar car.
Patrick Raines wasn’t truly John’s uncle, although he had called him that ever since he could talk. Now that Tanya’s father-in-law, J. D. Lassiter, had gone into semi-retirement, going to his firm’s office in Springfield only two or three times a week, Patrick Raines was head of the engineering firm in all but name. It was a feeling Tanya had that J.D. was keeping his hand in the operation until Jake returned to the States, at which time he would turn it over to his only living son. It had been her father-in-law’s persuasion that had brought Jake home for an abortive stay four years ago. But no one had been immune to the chilling and hostile atmosphere that had surrounded Jake and Tanya. She hadn’t been able to carry on a civil conversation with him, let alone be comfortable in the same room with him.
As she and young John walked on to the highly polished tiled floor of the foyer, Tanya felt her heart skipping a beat at the sound of Patrick’s rich voice in the next room. John went dashing ahead of her, calling out a greeting to his grandparents and to the dark handsome man just coming into Tanya’s sight. Her mouth curved into a welcoming smile under the warm regard of Patrick Raines.
‘It’s good to see you again, Patrick.’ Her hand reached out naturally for his, enjoying the firm, lingering touch that reinforced the glow in his brown eyes. ‘John commented when he saw your car that you hadn’t been here for ages.’
‘Then you did miss me while I was out of town,’ his resonant voice declared with satisfaction.
Tanya was about to seize on his statement, having no knowledge that he had been away, when her mother-in-law broke into the conversation. ‘We were beginning to give you two up for lost. Where did you and Johnny wander off to?’ Only Julia Lassiter ever called John Johnny, and Tanya was sure her mother-in-law did it because Julia knew how it irritated her.
‘We went on a little side trip that took longer than we expected,’ she replied calmly, turning towards the woman firmly holding John’s hand. Her gold-flecked eyes flickered over the aristocratic face with its framework of professionally dyed blue-grey hair, knowing Julia’s avarice for a detailed account of their every movement. ‘Is dinner ready?’
