by Janet Dailey
'I don't think I want you to answer me. I think you'd lie or maybe not tell me the whole truth.' His tone was extremely serious. 'It would hurt too much either way. Stacy, if you ever want to tell me what's wrong, I'll be here no matter what.'
'Carter, I—–' Stacy began, tears of misery welling in her brown eyes.
'Sssh! We won't talk any more. Maybe later when we're alone, but not now,' he whispered in her hair, and drew her closer into the comfort of his arms.
When the last strains of the ballad faded away, the group struck up a bouncier tune and the young couple remained on the floor. The knowledge of Carter's affection gave Stacy a crutch to cling to and the ability to return to the table with a more sincere smile on her face. Despite the invisible support of Carter, the evening dragged. The mocking tone and twisted smile of Cord whenever he addressed her made Stacy nervous and the triumphant glitter in Lydia's eyes fanned the ache that throbbed so close to the surface. The envious lump in her throat swelled whenever she watched Cord dancing with the sultry black-haired woman. Towards the end of the evening, Carter asked Lydia to dance, leaving Stacy alone with Cord.
'They dance well together,' Stacy commented with an attempt at nonchalance as she watched Carter and Lydia fall into step. Cord gleamed back at her, an unamused smile that flickered briefly with an emotion that Stacy couldn't quite recognize.
'Jealous?' the low baritone voice spoke. 'Lydia is a very beautiful Woman.'
'No, of course not,' Stacy returned, but there was a tremulous catch in her voice as she spoke. She was jealous of Lydia, but not for the reason Cord was-thinking.
'Shall we dance?' Cord asked softly as he rose and stepped behind her chair.
Naturally she would refuse. Why punish herself further by being held in his arms when he desired another? What could it possibly accomplish but more heartache? But not a word of protest had passed her lips as she found herself in his arms on the dance floor. There was no retreat now and the glow that radiated unconsciously from her upturned face laughed at the recrimination of her conscience. The firm hand on the small of her back was strangely exciting and the tender brown eyes that looked down upon her made her heart race with uncontrollable happiness. At this moment it didn't matter whether he was dancing with her out of pity or courtesy. Her hand tightened imperceptibly in Cord's and with a gentle smile in his eyes he drew her closer to his broad chest until her brown head nestled against his shoulder. Ignorant of the melody of the song the band was playing, the conversation of the dancers around them, oblivious to anything but the thrilling nearness of Cord, Stacy danced in silence, capturing the sensation of the rhythmic sway of his hips, the gentle pressure of his body against hers, the firm clasp of his hand and the caress of his breath on her hair.
The dance over, as if by previous arrangement, Cord immediately suggested calling it an evening. Torn apart by the emotions that threatened to surface from his nearness and the hopelessness of her love, Stacy quickly agreed.
The ride home had been a silent one. Looking back on it two days later, Stacy tried to analyse the reason. Carter had been unusually quiet. In the past they had often spent hours without talking, but this time there was an uneasiness about him, as if he was grappling with a problem he didn't know how to handle. And Cord had answered Lydia's sentences so abruptly that even she fell to silence. It had been a relief when the Continental had finally turned into the ranch drive and Stacy had escaped to the sanctity of her room.
Carter had been his old self the next morning, laughing and joking as before. After volunteering to help Stacy with the auction arrangements, he had pitched in with a familiar gusto, running errands into town, checking with Hank regarding the yearlings, and taking some of the more time-consuming tasks off Stacy's hands. Cord had reverted to his old habit of unexplained absences. The past two days he had practically avoided Stacy and Carter, joining them only ' once for dinner Monday evening and leaving immediately afterwards. He had not mentioned where he was going, but later that evening Stacy had seen a light burning late at the ranch office. Lydia hadn't been over either, which surprised Stacy as the divorcee had almost become a fixture at the ranch since her return.
Removing the paper from the carriage of the typewriter, Stacy forced her thoughts to return to the business at hand. Her morning had been consumed with last-minute requests for circulars of the auction. This one was finally the last. Slipping the information into an envelope and stamping it, she placed it with a stack of similar letters that awaited Carter's return from the stables. If she was lucky she would have time for a cup of coffee and a cigarette before she had to meet the wives of the ranch hands to go over various details they would be responsible for during the barbecue.
Leaving the den, Stacy walked towards the kitchen to help herself to some coffee. But Maria appeared in the archway between the dining room and living room carrying a small tray with a steaming cup of coffee and a sweet roll on it.
'You are a life-saver,' Stacy smiled. I was just going to the kitchen to get myself a cup.'
Maria bubbled her pleasure before adding, 'Weel the Senora Leedia be joining you?'
'Lydia?' Stacy's tone puzzled.
'Si. She just drive up een her car. I theenk perhaps she dreenk too.'
I don't know—-' Stacy began, but was interrupted by the opening and closing of the front door. 'Stacy, good morning. I'm so glad to see you're not busy,' Lydia smiled, entering the living room as Maria left. 'I hoped to have a little chat with you today, but I was afraid you'd be all tied up with Saturday's affair.'
‘I'll have to be running off in a few minutes,' Stacy 'replied, not anxious to have another 'little chat' with Lydia. Their previous discussion was regrettable enough without enduring another.
Gracefully Lydia seated herself in the chair opposite Stacy, smoothing the skirt of her elegantly styled sundress before speaking. 'I don't see any engagement ring. Surely you've put that poor boy out of his misery by now.'
'If you mean Carter,' Stacy said coldly, incensed that Lydia was meddling in something that was none of her business, 'I've been rather busy lately. There's no rush, is there?'
'I wouldn't let him get away from you, if I were you.'
'That's the point, though, isn't it? You're not me.'
Lydia's cold eyes flickered ominously for a moment at Stacy's words.
'That's true, but I do have a better view of the situation than you,' she suggested solicitously.
'Why don't you come to the point?' said Stacy, irritated by the phoney concern that Lydia was attempting to project. 'We could talk in circles all day. Fortunately I have better things to do.'
Surprised at Stacy's unexpected audacity, Lydia rose from her chair, walked behind it, then turned her dark head with' its glistening coronet of braids towards her.
'You're quite right,' her tone was sarcastic and contemptuous. 'There's no love lost between us, so why pretend? My point is really quite simple—don't withhold your answer from Carter in the hope that Cord will come through with a better offer, because he won't. Do you think that Cord is so blind that he doesn't realize that you've fallen in love with him?'
'Afraid of a little competition, or is your hold so slight over Cord that you can't take the chance?' Stacy retorted, standing to meet the glare of the older woman's challenge.
'Don't be ridiculous!' Lydia exclaimed. 'A more mature woman would be able to recognize the difference between affection and pity. You moped around all Sunday evening and then lit up like a Christmas tree the minute Cord danced with you. Can't you tell that he feels sorry for you, that his over-active sense of responsibility forces him to do these things? I don't know where your sense of pride is or whether you haven't outgrown that cow-eyed teenage stage yet, but either way your presence has managed to influence the plans that Cord and I have made. As ridiculous as it sounds, he doesn't feel he should make his true feelings known for fear of hurting you.'
'As I told Cord and I'll tell you, I'm leaving right after the auction,' retor
ted Stacy. 'I'll be returning with Carter, so that should end your concern. In a few more days I'll be out of your lives for ever and you and Cord can do whatever you like. In the meantime, I prefer that you leave this house now and stay 'out of my way in the future,' Stacy's voice trembled with controlled anger. But the truth of Lydia's words cut deep.
The click of triumphant heels echoed through the living room as Lydia left. Numbly Stacy heard her satisfied tone as Lydia exchanged greetings with Carter just entering the house. Walking into the living room, Carter studied Stacy for a second, noting the clenched fists at her side.
'What happened? She looked as if she just tried on the glass slipper and it fitted.'
'Really?' Stacy remarked with unnatural bitterness. Seeing the formation of a question in Carter's eyes, she hurried on, 'I have a meeting now. There's some mail lying on my desk. Will you see that it gets out today?'
Gathering her notebook, she hurried out the door.
The following evening Stacy and Carter went for a late ride after dinner. On their return Stacy chattered away happily with Carter refreshed and relaxed by the sunset ride.
'If you don't mind, I'm going to wash off some of your precious Texas dirt,' said Carter as they reached the front door of the hacienda. 'I'll meet you on the patio for a drink in half an hour.'
'A deal,' Stacy smiled, preceding him upstairs to her own room.
A short time later she joined him on the veranda. He was sitting quietly on one of the settees rubbing the ears of the German Shepherd abstractedly as he stared off Into the deep ebony of the night. Seeing his mistress, Cajun pattered happily over to her side as Carter rose to meet her. Taking the hand extended to her, the chestnut-haired girl contentedly let herself be drawn into the settee beside him.
'It didn't take you very long,' Carter smiled. 'I thought I'd be able to sneak in an extra drink before 'you got here,' indicating a tray of tall glasses on the side table.
'At least you saved one for me,' Stacy teased, cradling an icy drink in her hands as she gazed into the midnight curtain of evening. 'It's a gorgeous night. I wonder where all the stars are?'
'If I were a proper lover, I would say they were all in your eyes.'
'Oh, Carter !' Stacy laughed protestingly, leaning against the back of the cushion.
Tenderly he cupped her chin in his hand, his face sombre in its study of her sobering expression.
'I wish I could say that and know it to be true,' he said, releasing her and rising abruptly.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carter walked over by the pillar and gazed into the distance. Stacy fidgeted nervously with the pocket on her orange and yellow shift. The truth of his statement brought back the despair she fought so hard to subdue.
'Do you know how I've planned for this evening ever since I arrived?' A strange, bitter quality was in his voice that Stacy had never heard before. 'Here we are, all alone with not a soul to bother us. The setting is perfect, the black night shutting out the world, a couple of stars winking their encouragement, and a beautiful girl, her dark eyes filled with anticipation at the words that are to be said.' The light brown head turned to look back at Stacy. 'Only your eyes aren't filled with anticipation, are they?' He looked down at her.
Salty tears trickled down her cheeks to her tightly pressed lips as she bent her head from his accusing blue eyes.
'I was going to do it all properly tonight—get down on my knee and say, ‘Stacy, I love you and I want you to be my wife’,' said Carter, his voice almost a monotone. 'Corny, isn't it? I love you, but you see, I'm a proud man. I don't want to possess something that doesn't belong to me. I suppose there are men who would have asked you anyway and taken the chance that they wouldn't be turned down. I'm not asking for an entirely different reason. I'm afraid you might accept, and I couldn't live with you knowing that you're in love with some rancher in Texas.'
Shame and humiliation shook Stacy's slim shoulders at the pain and bitterness she had brought into Carter's world. Rousing out of his mist of self-pity, Carter^ looked at the silent, sobbing form and walked over to where she sat, a hand moving unsurely towards her head.
'Oh, Stacy, why, why does it have to be this way?' His voice choked as he swept her off the chair into his arms.
'Carter, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't,' she moaned into his shirt. 'I couldn't hurt you, not when I knew what that pain was like.'
'It'll be all right,' he smiled, drawing comfort from the easing of her pain. 'You know the saying ‘It only hurts for a little while.’'
'I wouldn't have said ‘yes’. I wouldn't have done that to you.'
'No, I think I knew that,' holding her away from him as he wiped her moist cheeks with his hand. 'Inside I knew you were made of a stronger stuff.'
You will stay,' Stacy asked, 'and take me home after the weekend?'
'Of course. Don't you know, my pet, that you can use me any time?' Carter grinned, his smile taking the sting out of his words.
'I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come when you did. I hadn't the pride to leave nor the strength to stay,' she confessed, nestling under his arm as they walked towards the yawning light from the glass doorway.
A troubled sigh echoed her words as Carter stepped forward to open the door. Hesitating just inside, Stacy turned to wait for him. He had stopped a step behind her, his attention riveted ahead of her. The brittle iciness of his blue eyes startled her and she turned to where he was looking. Cord was standing slightly to her right, a book in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His dark eyes were narrowed in an inscrutable expression as he looked passed Stacy to Carter. Abruptly, Cord turned his head and walked over to an ash-tray where he snubbed his cigarette out viciously.
'You young people are turning in rather early tonight, aren't you?' he taunted.
'It's been a hectic day,' Stacy murmured, starting to the stairway.
'All the arrangements are going along smoothly for the sale on Saturday, aren't they?'
'Of course. If you'd like to go over them now—-'
Stacy began, stung by the hint of neglect in his words.
'No, that won't be necessary,' Cord interrupted, his dark eyes examining the pinched lines in her face. 'There's time enough in the morning.' His tone curt and dismissive.
'Good night, Mr. Harris,' Carter offered, a little sarcastically. '
'Yes, good night, Cord,' Stacy hastened at the sharpening of the rancher's eyes.
'Good night.' His voice followed them out of the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
'HELLO! ' came the call from the hill.
Stacy looked up in answer to see Carter's long legs carrying him down towards her. 'Hi yourself,' she replied with a grin.
'I should have known I'd find you down here,' Carter reproached. 'Don't you realize what time it is? You've been going since eight this morning.'
'It's only half past seven and I have a few things to finish up before tomorrow,' Stacy replied, ignoring the mild rebuke in his voice. 'Linda and Diane decided to set up the tables tonight instead of tomorrow morning. I thought I'd give them a hand. Did you get the things from Molly that Mrs. Grayson needed?'
'And delivered to her already. She shooed me out before I even got to sneak a taste of her famous barbecue sauce,' Carter concluded with a mock grimace. 'What's left to do?'
'Nothing, I hope,' Stacy answered with a nervous look around at the long row of folding tables. Waving a good-bye to the two women who were walking away, she turned to Carter apprehensively. 'Tomorrow will tell the tale. All my mistakes will be blatantly obvious.'
'Where's that girl who always rolls with the punches?' Carter teased with a twinkle in his eyes. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he turned her towards the hacienda, adding, 'Day's done. Let's go and have something cool to drink.'
Stacy laughed in spite of her nervousness. A little relaxation would be in order, especially in the face of the ordeal ahead of her tomorrow. A twinge of pain laced her brown eyes as she conside
red what this week would have been like if Carter hadn't come. Studying his tanned face out of the side of her eye, she examined the new lines at the corner of his lips. Outwardly there was no change in Carter's attitude towards her and no reference had been made to Wednesday's ill-fated evening. '
'Regretting the end coming?' Carter asked quietly, his hand squeezing her arm in comfort.
'No,' Stacy sighed. 'I'll be better off when I'm away from here.' 'And only haunted by Cord's memory,' she added to herself.
The couple skirted the front entrance, going directly to the patio at the side of the adobe structure. While Stacy settled herself on one of the chairs, Carter entered the house to get the drinks. The lowering fiery globe of the western sun failed to lighten Stacy's darkening brown eyes as she gazed around her morosely at the surroundings that had become her home these past few weeks. Drawn by a compulsion she didn't understand, she found herself staring intently at the knoll rising above the house. Distantly she heard the phone ringing in the living room and Carter answering it. Numbly she rose and began walking towards the small hill and the as yet unseen cemetery at the top. She didn't hear Carter call her name nor see his still form standing on the cobblestoned veranda with their drinks in his hands.
She didn't stop until she reached the black, wrought-iron fence that enclosed the graveyard. Ignoring the smaller crosses and markers, she made her way directly to the stone bearing the words 'Elena Teresa Harris'. Slowly she knelt in front of the tombstone until a denim knee touched the earth. One brown hand reached out tentatively and traced the letters gently. Two bright tears trickled down her cheeks as Stacy tried to draw comfort from those Cord had loved. Grief and anguish gripped her heart as she leaned against the silent grey stone.
Again Cord's voice echoed in her ear, but this time it sounded so real that she turned her brown head to look. Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her, for there before her stood Cord. It had to be a dream because when she looked up into his face there was the most peculiar light in his eyes. Suddenly Stacy became conscious of the encroaching shadows among the graves. Looking quickly to where the sun had been, she saw only a crimson glow marking its departure. She wasn't dreaming! The realization that it really was Cord standing before her jumped into her eyes as she turned back to face him. At the change in her expression, the large muscular arm that had started to extend itself towards her returned to Cord's side as she hastily scrambled to her feet.
