The intruder struck a match to light a cheroot, and the brief illumination revealed their hiding place. Tyler chuckled and calmly went about tending his cigar. "You're allowed to go up in the tower anytime you want. You're sure not keeping us company by staying out here."
"We just thought we'd go for a walk before we retired. I trust Betsy wasn't one of the rapscallions that just took off through the bushes?" Peter had learned polite conversation at an early age and with good reason. He employed his talent now, accepting that Janice wasn't in any state to respond. He was rather proud of himself at bringing her to that point.
"No, that's the boys. They think they're going to find night crawlers. Most likely all they'll catch is mosquitoes, but at that age, who notices? If you're walking after dark, I'd recommend carrying a citronella lamp with you. Those critters will carry you off if you don't."
"Thanks for the warning. After all the excitement of the day, I think we'll just go on upstairs." Peter wrapped his arm around Janice's waist, guiding her past Tyler through the shadows so her dishevelment wouldn't be noticed.
She called a soft good night to their host as they passed. Just as they reached the door, Tyler's syrupy drawl called out, "You might want to stick that fancy cravat in your pocket, Mulloney. It's going to look mighty awkward where it is when you get inside."
Peter glanced down, found the offending article half tucked down inside his collar and half off, and jerked it hastily from his shirt. Beside him, Janice giggled. It wasn't much of a giggle, but it was enough to let him know she wasn't angry. Hopes soaring, he shoved the cravat in his pocket and practically pulled her into the house.
"We can't retire this early," Janice whispered as he steered her directly toward the stairs.
"I'm sorry, but I've seen all the people I want to see today. That tower is beginning to look mighty good to me." Peter kept a firm grasp on her waist.
Janice tried to twist away. "I have to say good night to Evie and Carmen. And I ought to ask after Ben. It's rude to go to bed without telling anyone."
"They'll understand, I assure you." Peter hauled her closer to the staircase.
"But we can't..." She stumbled over the words but not the steps. He held her too firmly for that.
"All right, so we won't. But there're other things we can do."
Janice looked interested and wary at the same time. "Such as?"
Peter relaxed and hurried her up the stairs. "I'll show you."
But by the time they traversed all the landings and stairs and reached the top of the tower, Janice was stiff and nervous again. Peter bit back his impatience and wished he'd had the forethought to have another bottle of wine brought up.
As soon as they entered the room, she tugged away from him and wandered to the window. Peter lit the lamp on the writing desk, but he didn't see the need for a great deal of illumination for what he had in mind. Their shadows flickered across the ceiling as he lifted the lamp.
He'd never had to learn the art of seduction. In the past when he had needed a woman, he'd simply bought one. These last years, when his funds were tight, he'd gone to places where he knew his looks would attract women willing to dally awhile. He'd worked at many things in his life, but he had never worked at persuading a woman to like him.
Peter rested a hand on her shoulder. She jumped but didn't move away. Before he could say anything, she did.
"This won't work." She spoke so low, he didn't know if he'd heard her correctly.
"What won't work?" Peter rubbed his thumb into her shoulder, hoping to work the tension out. He hadn't married an easy woman, but he hadn't wanted an easy one. A willing one would have been nice.
"Us," Janice whispered at their reflections in the window. "I'm grateful that you thought to rescue me from the scandal back there, but we're not suited. When you find your mountain of gold, you can buy a divorce, I'm sure. In the meantime, I think I'd just better see if I can't find a job somewhere."
"No."
She turned and stared at him over her shoulder. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
He began pulling the remaining pins from her hair. "Just what I said. No. There won't be any divorce. And you won't be finding a job elsewhere. You have one. Once I buy that mountain, you may have more jobs than you can handle. Now quit worrying and let me kiss you."
She jerked away and glared at him. "You said you would borrow the money and we would leave here at once. What happened to the six weeks or whatever you said we have left? I don't see you making any effort to return to New Mexico."
"There's been a slight change of plans." He was growing angry now. He didn't like explaining himself. But she looked so lovely standing there, the moonlight glinting off the pale strands of hair tumbling to her shoulders, that he offered what he could in hopes of gaining more. "Tyler doesn't have that much cash right now."
Janice's lips set in grim lines, and Peter hastened to relieve the anxiety in her eyes. "He can get it. There's just a slight delay." He hesitated to explain the reason for that delay. Peter had a decided feeling that his wife wouldn't approve of the means of obtaining that cash. He wasn't thrilled with them himself.
"I see. And I don't suppose that delay has anything to do with waiting for the Fourth of July races, does it?"
So that was it. She knew. Well, there wasn't anything that could be done about it. "It doesn't make any difference what the reason is. I need the money and Tyler is my best source. This will all be over shortly, and in a few months we can set up housekeeping just like I promised." He knew as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he'd said the wrong thing.
The cool gray of her eyes glazed colder. "A few months?"
He was a man who could deal coolly and authoritatively with all aspects of business and potential disasters, but that cold flicker of her eyes infuriated him. Conquering a flare of anger, he replied, "I will have less than five weeks to get back to New Mexico. There won't be time to take a wagon and trunks. You'll have to wait here until I can come back for you." She might as well understand now that first things came first, and he was the one who made that decision. There could only be one man in a family.
"Very well." Janice picked up her full skirt and started around him. "You go your way, and I'll go mine. That's what I meant to do anyway."
She didn't slam doors. Peter appreciated that fact. She shut him out quietly and effectively with just the gentle click of the latch on the door between the two rooms.
That way, the whole household wouldn't know the practical, mature, composed newlyweds were ready to tear each other's throats out.
Chapter 19
"You're girls! You can't go with us."
"That's not fair, you beasts! We want to fish too."
The childish voices drifted in through the open window, and Janice glanced out to find the source of the argument.
Betsy and Melissa Harding stood beside one of the porch columns in their short dresses covered in flounces and bows, watching with disappointment as a group of boys raced down the drive carrying fishing poles and gear. But it was the two older girls, Maria Rodriguez and fourteen-year-old Alicia Monteigne who were doing the shouting. Janice shook her head in dismay. They were old enough to know better.
Betsy didn't say a word when Janice joined them, but the youngest Monteigne girl, Rebecca, was sitting on a swing, wiping tears from her eyes. At the appearance of an adult, she wailed. "I'm gonna tell Mama on them!"
"Hush, Becky. We'll get even with them. Just see if we don't!" Alicia scowled after the departing boys. "They think they're so great just because they're boys. A lot they know."
Janice bit back a smile. The eldest Monteigne girl sounded just like her mother. No doubt Evie would have a brilliant solution to this situation, but she was busy putting the finishing touches on one of her children's books and wasn't to be disturbed this morning. The boys had probably counted on that particular piece of information
"The best way I know to get even in a situation like this is to have an even bette
r time than they're having," Janice said, wondering if she was getting in over her head. She had learned to deal with rooms full of school children by wielding her authority. She had never really learned to be friends with them.
All the girls looked up at her with interest. Betsy was the first to question. "How? They took all the fishing poles."
"We can make fishing poles easy enough." Janice hoped that was true. She had never gone fishing in her life, but poles and string seemed simple enough. "But you need to make it more fun than what they are doing. What is more fun than sitting on a bank and fishing?"
She hoped they would come up with something remotely within her areas of expertise, but it wasn't likely they'd say "baking a cake" or "sewing a shirt." She waited with some trepidation for the reply.
"Sitting in a boat and fishing," Alicia and Maria answered decisively and at the same time. At Janice's questioning look, Alicia said, "Daddy took us out on a boat last summer. He's promised and promised to do it again, and he even had Ben get the boat out and make it ready, but he's been too busy with the darned fields to take us out. And now that Ben can't get around so good, we'll never go."
"Get around so well." Janice corrected her absently. "A boat. Well, that does sound better than sitting in mud. Why don't I see what I can do? And just in case I can't round up a boat, think of something else that's even more fun than what the boys are doing."
She left the girls chattering excitedly as she returned to the house. She had to be out of her mind to agree to put together a fishing expedition, but she had never been able to disappoint Betsy in any way if she could possibly avoid it. Betsy wasn't outspoken like Alicia and Maria. She would never complain. But Janice knew only too well the childish heartbreak of being denied the pleasant pastimes other children enjoyed. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't worked, but she distinctly remembered all those times while she was working that she had heard the laughter of other children playing in the streets. She had never learned how to kick the can with them, or jump rope, or play dolls. She would deny Betsy none of that, even if it meant taking her fishing.
Entering the dim parlor, she nearly walked into Peter. He caught her arms to steady her and didn't let go. They had slept in the same bed last night, but he had made no further effort to touch her until now. Somehow, standing this close, feeling his fingers dig into her arms and his breath against her hair, even though they were fully dressed, was more tantalizing than lying on opposite sides of the bed with an ocean of sheet between them. Janice tried to escape, but Peter didn't appear to notice.
"Can you and Betsy swim?" he asked, not gripping her arms hard but running his fingers up and down her sleeve. "Do you know anything about poling boats?"
He'd heard. Janice shrugged. "The Hardings taught Betsy to swim a little. I'd hoped I could find somebody who knew something about boats. I just couldn't see any reason the girls had to be stuck in the house all day if the boys didn't have to."
"I rather thought that was what girls were supposed to do," he said wryly. "I thought they liked sitting inside in their ribbons and bows, sipping tea and playing with dolls."
She would have liked to have done that once upon a time. But then, she would have done anything just to have the ribbons and bows when she was a child, up to and including drinking tea. That was no reason Betsy should be confined to such a role. Janice met her husband's gaze squarely. "Girls can do almost anything boys can do. They can ride bicycles or play tennis or go fishing, if that's what they want. These are modern times, sir."
Peter glanced to the open window where the sound of excited chatter began to dissipate. He had the suspicion that their argument had an audience. Out of sheer devilment, he whispered in her ear, "What will you give me if I take you boating?"
He had pulled her so close that Janice had to rest her hands on his chest to keep a space between them. He was a tall man, and his height and breadth made her feel small and vulnerable. At the same time, she felt protected rather than threatened. It was an extremely odd feeling, and one she didn't want to investigate too closely. She held him where he was and considered his question.
"I don't have anything to give you," she finally decided.
Peter kissed the tip of her nose. "Yes, you do. But I'll let you decide if my efforts are worth your favors. I'll go check with Tyler about the boat." He said the last sentence loud enough to bring cheers from their unabashed listeners.
Janice felt herself grow warm, but when Peter went off to see about the boat, she regained her schoolteacher image and ordered the girls to don suitable clothing. They scampered off immediately.
By the time the girls returned in old skirts too short for them, simple shirtwaists, and broad hats that tied under their chins, Peter had located the boat and an additional poleman, the eldest Rodriguez male, Manuel. And Jasmine had practically pleaded with them to drag Ben along to get him out of the house and from underfoot. He just wasn't allowed to stand on his injured leg.
"You can put the wiggly worms on the hooks," Betsy assured Ben when he complained at being made to sit in the back of the wagon like an invalid.
"We don't have worms!" Maria cried out in dismay as she helped Becky into the wagon bed.
"Biscuit dough works just fine," Ben assured her, holding out a hand to help Betsy and Melissa in beside him. "We got us a whole basket of goodies here. You just got to leave some for the fish."
They laughed and giggled all the way to the river. Janice sat between Peter and Manuel on the wagon seat, and the two of them teased her with horror stories of fish leaping out of the water to wriggle in the laps of ladies, but she didn't mind their laughter. She could hear Betsy's laughter intertwining with it, and her heart soared joyfully. If she had learned nothing else in this lifetime, she had learned to grab the few moments of joy God gave her and make the most of them. This was one of those moments.
The July sun was merciless, but the breeze off the river was refreshing. Childish laughter mixed with the wild notes of a mockingbird, and the aroma of fried chicken from their lunch basket competed with the earthy smells of mud and river as they found a place to stop the wagon. Even the strong male presence of Peter at her side was a source of pleasure. Janice took his arm after he tied off the reins, and when he looked down at her questioningly, she smiled. She felt it deep in the pit of her stomach when he smiled back.
That feeling didn't go away as they pulled the boat into the water and managed to guide the excited girls onto it without dumping anyone into the idle current. Every time Janice looked at her husband, she somehow felt him. Was that what happened between husband and wife? Was that physical joining also a permanent tie that bound her to him forever? It felt that way. The hollow inside her deepened and ached when he discarded his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves. As if he knew what she was thinking, Peter looked up at her and held out his hand to help her onto the boat. The touch of his bare palm against hers sent a tremor rippling through her.
The girls didn't leave Janice much time to worry over this new awareness of her husband's presence. They had to be made to sit still while Ben attached strings and hooks to their poles and baited them with wadded-up biscuit dough. The older ones attempted to do it themselves, under his direction while Janice helped the younger ones to lower their hooks over the boat's side. Manuel and Peter kept the simple flatboat near the river's edge, poling it just to keep it out of cypress knees or partially submerged cottonwood trunks.
Alicia spotted the boys on the riverbank at the same time as Maria saw the low-lying island ahead.
"There they are, the skunks! Look, they're not even fishing. They're just jumping in the water and chasing the fish away."
Mildly alarmed at that announcement, Janice hastily attempted to distract their attention by pointing out Maria's discovery. "Do you think we could row over to that island? There's a tree on it that would give adequate shade for a picnic." Firmly she directed Betsy's attention away from the riverbank. She didn't have any illusions about what
the boys were doing while "jumping in the water and chasing the fish." And she didn't think they were wearing anything particularly appropriate while doing it. The muggy heat made skinny-dipping almost essential.
The boys shouted when they discovered the boat, and the girls smugly agreed that the island would be just fine. The boys wouldn't be able to reach it without a boat of their own.
Behind Janice, Manuel chuckled as he pushed the boat into deeper currents. "This won't work, you know. Jose isn't going to let Maria and Alicia get the better of him. He may have just finished that fancy college, but old habits die hard."
Janice threw a look over her shoulder. Sure enough, Jose was striking out toward the island on his own. And the younger boys seemed prepared to do the same. She glanced worriedly at Peter. "How dangerous is that current?"
Peter frowned and kept a close eye on the race. Ben was the one to answer. "Current changes from day to day. It ain't been raining, so it should be gentle if they don't fool 'round none."
The girls yelled and screamed and scared off any fish they might have caught as they realized the boys were racing toward the island ahead of them. Nine-year-old Melissa Harding jumped up and down and hurled childish curses at her younger brother while Alicia Monteigne scowled and watched her brothers divert their course and head for the boat.
"Manuel!" Peter's shout jarred the carnival atmosphere. "Catch that log!"
Janice glanced to where Peter was looking and saw the rotted log riding the current just beneath the water. She knew very little about rivers and swimming, but she could see that there would be unexpected dangers like this one. She glanced worriedly toward the smaller boys still struggling to swim toward the boat.
Manuel couldn't stop the log with just a slender pole. It bumped the pole, floated around it, and kept on going, straight for the young boys. The older girls realized something was amiss, and their screams silenced as they looked from the boys swimming toward the boat to Peter, whose face was set and grim. On the island, even Jose sensed something was wrong. He stood on the bank, straining to see what the others saw.
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