by Janet Dailey
His words touched Coley as she sensed that he was, in his own way, apologizing for his bluntness. She felt Danny relax a little, too.
'Maggie!’ Ben bellowed. When she finally poked her head around the door, he said, ‘We'll be having our coffee on the porch.’ As the chairs scraped the polished wood floor, Ben turned to Coley. ‘Well, are you going to help me or not?'
She nodded slightly and stepped behind the wheelchair to lead the entourage out to the porch. As she manoeuvred the chair through the screen door and on to the porch, Coley heard the lowered voice of her aunt speaking.
'You are coming out with us for a little while, aren't you, Jason?'
'No.’ His voice was clipped and hard.
'But, Jason—’ her aunt began plaintively.
Coley glanced at the other three on the porch. Danny and Tony were talking and Ben was staring out into the sunset. Only Coley's ears were straining to hear the conversation inside.
'I will not be a party to any of your conciliatory attempts. It's no use,’ Jase said sharply. ‘Leave Ben and me alone. There's nothing you can say or do that can change the past. Leave us with our mutual dislike.'
Coley's eyes mirrored the confusion and pain that was on Willy's face as she stepped through the light bathing through the screen door on to the porch. Her aunt glanced beseechingly at Ben, but he was staring unseeingly at the crimson glow above the hills. Coley tensely watched the flustered woman who had become embedded in her heart in the last thirty-six hours. She saw her shoulders straighten and the sagging chin lift, before her aunt seated herself next to Ben, regaining her grace and dignity. Coley remained in the shadows apart from the group. Her heart contracted in pain while she watched the flashing red nails of her aunt's hands as she poured the coffee. When the same hands were done with their task and one went to its owner's throat to click the beads together nervously, Coley knew she could watch no more the agony that was burning inside her aunt and slipped unnoticed off the porch into the yard.
Silently, not wanting to be seen or stopped, Coley followed the evening path of shadows to the back of the house. At last out of sight, she slowed her steps and began wandering aimlessly among the stately oaks. Her thoughts became jumbled and incoherent. Flashes of her night spent with Jase came searing back, but mixed up with the never-ceasing echo of Ben's ringing ‘Murderer,’ ‘Murderer,’ ‘Murderer!’ She glanced bewilderedly up to the evening sky with its smattering of stars, only to see once again ominous rolling clouds splintered by forks of lightning before they were blocked out by the vision of a jagged white scar against a black beard and her own taunting words, ‘Mark of Cain.’ Her lids closed tightly over her hazel eyes trying to shut out the pictures she was seeing. What had happened that could cause such hatred between grandfather and grandson? Why hadn't Jase told her that night that he was the grandson of the owner? Why had he let her think he only worked on the ranch? He must have known she would find out.
Danny had had such high hopes for them. Her generous mouth turned up slightly with affection for her brother. He had wanted a family and a home for her. She had both and now wanted desperately to belong, but this family was torn apart by hate and mistrust. A sickening feeling knotted itself in the pit of her stomach at the thought of continued arguments such as she had heard today between Jase and Uncle Ben. Coley, who hated any disagreement, who couldn't cope with bitter words from people she cared about, shuddered in fear. Jase couldn't be a murderer, she told herself. If he really was, he would be in prison. Somewhere there were answers, a solution. That was what she must find.
Suddenly, amid the shrilling cries of the cicadas and crickets, Coley heard the rasp of a match being struck behind her. Her spine tingled in apprehension as she turned towards the sound and murmured hoarsely:
'Who's there?'
Without answering, a figure stepped out of the shadows, shaking out the match as he did so. The light of the quarter moon illuminated the blue shirt and then the face of the figure. Jase walked slowly towards her, the gentle glow of a lit cigar in his hand.
'Good evening again, Miss McGuire,’ he murmured very politely. ‘It's a lovely night for strolling through Aunt Willy's rose garden, isn't it?'
Her body tensed as he stopped beside her, barely controlling a wild desire to flee. His blue eyes challenged her, but only briefly as she turned her head away from his face. Did he know or had he guessed that she had overheard him talking to Aunt Willy? Did he think she had expected to find him out here?
'I needed some fresh air and I was too restless to sit on the porch with the others,’ Coley explained breathlessly. She glanced up at him hesitantly and had the peculiar feeling that those piercing eyes saw right through her.
'We all are in need of fresh air after dinner,’ he replied grimly, ‘Did you enjoy the evening meal?'
Coley knew he wasn't referring to the food and lowered her head to stare at the ground rather than reply.
'You'll probably have difficulty adjusting to the peculiar structure of our family, but I'm sure in no time you'll be like the rest of us,’ he mocked.
'Are you really Ben's grandson?'
'Yes.’ His smile as he answered was cynical with a bitter twist to the corners of his mouth. ‘You find that hard to believe, don't you?'
She nodded silently. A large, calloused hand gripped her elbow and they began walking as if he could bear no more to stand in one place.
'You overheard a great deal today in Ben's study, didn't you?'
'Yes,’ Coley answered, acutely conscious of the burning restlessness of the man beside her.
'That was unfortunate,’ he stated, taking a puff from the cigar before hurling it into the night.
'I don't really understand,’ Coley said, glancing hesitantly at his masked face. ‘Why do you ... dislike each other so? What happened?'
His short laugh was embittered with anger. ‘That's a long story that has been told too many times. It's better that you don't know. You're incapable of taking sides and you would be torn apart like Aunt Willy is. Let it be.'
'How?’ Coley asked. Her eyes grew rounder in her effort to understand. For a moment she thought she saw a reflection of the pain that she felt there in the recesses of his glance. But he turned away.
'You're not a murderer!’ Her protest was vehement, though spoken softly.
'I'm not?’ It was a question and not a statement, but it held a bitterly sad note that drew an involuntary sob of pain from Coley.
'I see your dress is none the worse for the storm,’ he observed, his hand still guiding them as they walked aimlessly among the roses.
'No,’ Coley replied quietly. She was grateful for the change of subject and yet wishing Jase would talk about the other. ‘It still is a pretty awful dress.'
'No, no, it isn't.’ Jason's voice was almost gentle with a bit of the reassurance that he had attempted to give her at the dinner table tonight. ‘But I'm sure you'll find a lot more that you will like better when you're shopping tomorrow.'
From the near side of the house came shouts of laughter and splashes of water followed by more boyish cries. She glanced questioningly at him.
'Tony and your brother must be swimming. Would you like to go and see?'
She nodded agreement and they turned towards the house. The bright lights at the pool blinked saucily at them through the thick branches of the oaks, lighting their way to the pool and sundeck surrounding it. Coley and Jase stood on the extreme outer edge of the sundeck out of reach of the exuberant sheets of water that sprayed from the hands of the two swimmers. Coley watched the wet gleaming bodies of her brother and Tony enviously as they gambolled in the water like two playful seals. She felt Jason's eyes on her and smiled up at him briefly before turning back to the pool.
'Hey, Coley!’ Danny cried, waving an arm at her. ‘I wondered where you were.'
'Go and change,’ Tony ordered, his dark hair glistening blackly in the lights. His white teeth flashed brightly. ‘Come on in. The water's fine.'
>
'I can't,’ Coley called back, a shy smile lighting her face. ‘I haven't got a swimsuit.'
'Who cares?’ hooted Tony, pulling himself on to the sundeck amidst another flood of water. He laughed merrily at her blushing cheeks. ‘Willy can fix you up with something. Come on in.'
'No, thanks,’ Coley smiled. The envy crept into her eyes as Tony jack-knifed into the water near Danny.
'Do you know how?’ Jase asked astutely.
'No,’ Coley's voice was soft and shy. ‘I've never learned.'
'Would you like to?'
'Of course,’ she replied. Her eyes beamed up at him with the hint of a dream peeping through. ‘It always looks so graceful.'
'If you'd like, I'll teach you,’ Jase offered, staring out into the pool at the shimmering lights on the water.
'Would you really?’ Coley exclaimed excitedly. ‘I mean if it's not too much trouble.'
'I wouldn't have offered otherwise.’ He gazed into her happy face. ‘Be sure to have Aunt Willy buy you a suit when you go shopping tomorrow.'
'Oh, I will,’ Coley cried delightedly. ‘When can we start?'
'Day after tomorrow,’ he answered. ‘I always take a morning swim at six, if you can get up that early.'
She glanced up at him, expecting to see a teasing glint in his eyes, but his expression was just as undefinable as it always was. ‘I'll be there,’ she promised solemnly, as if she were taking an oath.
'Fine. Good night, Coley,’ Jase said with a polite nod to her.
'Good night, Jase,’ Coley answered as he walked from her towards the house. She watched his tall figure for a moment, hugging her delight to her, before she turned back to the two swimmers in the pool. Soon she would be like them. Very soon.
Coley chewed nervously on her fingernail as the two women studied her reflection in the mirror of the beauty salon. She felt small and insignificant as her aunt plucked at a strand of Coley's hair and discussed it with the heavy-set stylist, Gloria. The hair stylist nodded an agreement with something that Aunt Willy had said and then stepped behind Coley's chair to skin the hair back from her face, turning and tilting her head this way and that, like a mannequin. A comb appeared from nowhere and began fluffing here and there.
'Okay, little lady,’ she said to Coley, swinging the chair away from the mirror, ‘let's get down to business.'
Somehow Coley managed a weak smile of agreement before she was whisked out of the chair and placed in the hands of a shampooer who was given explicit instructions for the type of shampoo, rinse and conditioner. It seemed to Coley that she had barely relaxed under the brisk, vigorous fingertips of the shampooer when a towel was wrapped around her head and she was bustled back to the stylist. Her hair was combed out and sectioned, before the hum of scissors began snipping away. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched strands of hair falling to the floor with a precision-like rhythm. Then deft flicks of the wrist began inserting rollers in her hair until Coley stared into the mirror at her head full of rollers. She submitted numbly to the strong hand of the stylist as she was led to a row of dryers where she was inserted under one of the hoods and left.
Her head felt strangely heavy and cumbersome. Never had she ever been in a hair salon. Any cutting or trimming that had to be done in the past had been done by one of their neighbours who had once studied to be a beauty operator. But now here she was, in a salon filled with immaculately dressed women walking in and out, their hair gorgeous and sophisticated. She couldn't suppress a little thrill that maybe she would look a little bit like that. The steady rush of hot air that had flushed her cheeks stopped and Gloria was beside her bustling her off to another chair, this time with an array of cosmetics spread out before it.
Again Aunt Wilhelmina was beside the stylist, only this time her silver hair was in rollers too, outlining the heavily made-up face like a comical hat. Gloria was holding Coley's arm while she tested various bases with her skin. Brisk instructions were given to Coley while the selected base was applied to her face, but Coley was too excited to really listen as she should. Next came the eye-shadow, a rich shade of olive green that brought out the green flecks in her hazel eyes, then the mascara which darkened her lashes and further enhanced her eyes and finally a pale peach-tinted lipstick was applied. Then she was off, back to the chair where she had started, and the rollers were being taken from her hair. Coley gasped with pleasure as she saw her formerly limp, wayward mouse-brown hair bounce and curl about her face with a golden-brown sheen to it.
'Now I've used a colour rinse to bring out the blonde highlights in her hair,’ Gloria was saying to Willy. ‘It really won't be necessary once she's out in the sun, because it will bleach out on its own.'
All the time the stylist was talking, a brush was vigorously going through Coley's hair. It was replaced by a comb and the styling began. With miraculous flips of the wrist, feathers of hair curled here and there, changing from wayward wisps to flattering waves. Her reflection no longer showed a thin, angular face, but a delicate and attractive face with an awed expression transparently obvious in the rounded eyes.
'Aunt Willy, is that really me?’ Coley exclaimed, half fearfully.
'Yes, dear,’ her aunt answered, her red lips smiling widely. ‘Gloria, it's perfect, absolutely perfect. You are a remarkable woman!'
'So are you, Mrs. Granger,’ the stylist replied, basking unashamedly in the praise. Gloria whisked away the plastic cape from around Coley's shoulders and applied a healthy amount of hair spray to hold her creation in place. ‘You, little lady, are very beautiful. You deserve to be proud.'
'Thank you, thank you so much,’ Coley answered breathlessly, not wanting to take her eyes off her reflection in the mirror.
How long it took for Aunt Willy to be combed out, Coley had no way of knowing. She was too enchanted with the new ‘her’ to care. To Coley, in no time at all they were walking out the door of the salon and Aunt Willy was chattering about which shops they were going to and what types of clothes Coley was going to be needing. And Coley was swept, into another breathless whirl. It didn't matter what she tried on, pant suits, everyday shirtwaist dresses, party dresses, short sets, jeans—she looked gorgeous in everything. Once when she heard Aunt Willy tell the sales lady they wanted three more pairs of jeans and to show them some knit tops, Coley couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt at the cost of all this.
'Aunt Willy, this is going to cost too much money,’ she whispered.
'Don't you be worrying about such things, Colleen,’ admonished her aunt. ‘You need the clothes and I'm enjoying every minute of it.'
Coley was too. Never had she ever dreamed she could look as pretty as her reflection kept telling her she was. Each time she looked in the mirror she would reverently put a hand to touch her hair, the feathery, wavy strands that looked so carelessly wind-blown and free. But when she tried on the yellow whipped-cream dress with little cap sleeves and eyelet lace around the yoke and a pair of matching yellow low heels, she stood in front of the dressing mirror in a trance. She was beautiful, really and truly beautiful.
'Yellow is your colour!’ Aunt Willy exclaimed. Her bracelets jingled loudly as she clapped her hands together in appreciation. ‘Miss,’ she called to the sales lady, ‘bring me that chiffon party dress, the yellow one on the mannequin.'
'That will look very charming on her,’ the woman replied.
'Aunt Willy, I don't really need another dress. This one is perfect,’ Coley finally managed to speak.
'Nonsense. That's a perfectly good dress, but you're going to need a party dress. You should have several of them, bur we don't have a very big selection to choose from here. One or two will have to do for now.’ With her usual efficiency, Willy took charge of titling the chiffon dress on Coley.
Aunt Willy was right. Coley looked and felt like a fairy princess in the dress. It floated in soft buttercup folds around her, softening the thinness of her body into an ethereal ray of sunshine, all golden and airy.
'We'll nee
d some accessories with that,’ her aunt murmured. ‘We'll go and pick those out as soon as you change, Colleen. With this dress, I think we've got everything you're going to need for a while. Change into that slack set, dear.'
'Aunt Willy,’ Coley called hesitantly as her aunt started to turn away.
'Yes, dear?'
'I—I don't have a swimsuit,’ she stammered.
'Oh, good gracious! I completely forgot about it,’ Aunt Willy exclaimed. ‘Of course you must have one. I guess I didn't think about you swimming.'
'I—I don't know how yet,’ Coley answered, flushing in embarrassment.
'You don't? Who is going to teach you? Daniel?'
'No,’ Coley replied, hesitating a little over her next words, unsure of how her aunt would react. ‘Jase said he would teach me. If that's all right with you.'
'Of course it's all right,’ Aunt Willy replied. But her blue eyes were narrowed by the frown on her forehead. ‘Jason is going to teach you?'
'Yes, Aunt Willy,’ Coley replied.
'That's strange,’ said Aunt Willy, more making a comment to herself than talking to Coley, ‘We'll have the sales girl find something for us in a swimsuit.'
That evening Coley rapped lightly on her brother's door. She was wearing the yellow dress with the eyelet lace around the yoke. She had been staring at her reflection for the last hour. Even though she realized how vain she was acting she was enchanted with herself. When she had heard Danny leave the shower and return to his room, she had raced across the hall so that he would be the first one to see the new Coley.
'Danny, it's me! Open up,’ she whispered.
As the door swung open by her bare-chested brother, the towel still vigorously drying his hair, she twirled happily into the room.
'Coley!’ Danny's voice was as dumbstruck as she had expected it to be. ‘Is that really you?'
'I'm beautiful, Danny!’ Her words ended in a merry laugh as she danced around his room. ‘You should see all the wonderful clothes Aunt Willy bought me. My hair ... don't you love it!'
