Читать книгу Christmas On The Range: Winter Roses - Diana Palmer - Страница 9
ОглавлениеTwo years later...
“Ivy, would you like a cup of coffee while you work?” her latest client asked from the doorway of the office where she was writing checks and balancing bank statements.
She looked up from her work, smiling, her long blond hair neatly pinned on top of her head. Her green eyes twinkled. “I’d love one, if it isn’t too much trouble,” she said.
Marcella smiled back. “I just made a pot. I’ll bring it in.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s no trouble at all, really. You’ve saved me from bankruptcy!”
“Not really. I just discovered that you had more money than you thought you did,” she replied.
The older woman chuckled. “You say it your way, I’ll say it mine. I’ll bring the coffee.”
Ivy contemplated the nice office she was using and the amazing progress she’d made in the past two years since her disastrous weekend at Merrie’s house. She’d been able to give up the part-time job at the garage when Dorie Hart offered her a bookkeeping service, complete with clients. Dorie had enjoyed the work very much, and she’d kept handling the books for her clients long after her marriage to Corrigan Hart. But her growing family kept her too busy to continue with it. Ivy had been a gift from heaven, Dorie told her laughingly. Now she could leave her clients in good hands and retire with a clear conscience.
Dorie had some wonderful accounts. There was a boutique owner, a budding architect, the owner of a custom beef retail shop, an exercise gym and about a dozen other small businesses in Jacobsville. Ivy had met the businesspeople while she was in her last semester of college, when Dorie had approached her with the proposal. Dorie and Lita, who carpooled with Ivy, were friends. Lita had mentioned Ivy’s goals and Dorie had gone to see her at the boardinghouse. It had been an incredible stroke of good luck. Ivy had resigned herself to working in a C.P.A. firm. Now she was a businesswoman in her own right.
And as if her blessings hadn’t multiplied enough, she’d also volunteered to do the occasional article for the Jacobs County Cattlemen’s Association in what little free time she had. She would have done it as a favor to the Harts, since Corrigan was this year’s president, but they wouldn’t hear of it. She got a check for anything she produced. Like her math skills, her English skills were very good.
Merrie was nursing at a big hospital in San Antonio. The two spoke on the phone at least twice a month, but they stayed too busy for socializing. Ivy had never told her friend what had happened that last night she spent under Stuart’s roof. She never asked about Stuart, either. Merrie seemed to sense that something had gone wrong, but she didn’t pry. She didn’t talk about her brother, either.
Autumn turned the leaves on the poplars and maples beautiful shades of gold and scarlet. Ivy felt restless, as if something was about to change in her life. She did her job and tried not to think about Stuart York, but always in the back of her mind was the fear of something unseen and unheard. A premonition.
There was a party to benefit a local animal shelter, which Shelby Jacobs had organized. Ivy wouldn’t have gone, but Sheriff Hayes Carson was on the committee that had planned the party, and he was showing an increasing interest in Ivy.
She didn’t know if she liked it or not. She was fond of Hayes, but her heart didn’t do cartwheels when he was around. Maybe that was a good thing.
When he showed up at her boardinghouse late one Friday afternoon, she sat on the porch swing with him. Her room contained little more than a bed and a vanity, and she was uncomfortable taking a man there. Hayes seemed to know that, because he sat down in the swing with no hesitation at all.
“We’re having the benefit dance next Friday night,” he told her. “Go with me.”
She laughed nervously. “Hayes, I haven’t danced in years. I’m not sure I even remember how.”
His dark eyes twinkled. “I’ll teach you.”
She studied him with pursed lips. He really was a dish. He had thick blond hair that the sun had streaked, and a lean, serious face. His dark eyes were deep-set, heavy browed. His uniform emphasized his muscular physique. He was built like a rodeo rider, tall, with wide shoulders, narrow hips and long, powerful legs. Plenty of single women around Jacobsville had tried to land him. None had succeeded. He was the consummate bachelor. He seemed immune to women. Most of the time, he looked as if he had no sense of humor at all. He rarely smiled. But he could be charming when he wanted to, and he was turning on the charm now.
Ivy hadn’t been asked out in months, and the man who’d asked had a reputation that even Merrie knew about, and Merrie didn’t live at home anymore.
Having turned down the potential risk, Ivy kept to herself. Now Hayes was asking her to a dance. She walked around in jeans. She looked and acted like a tomboy. She frowned.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “All work and no play will run you crazy.”
“You ought to know,” she tossed back. “Didn’t you take your last vacation day four years ago?”
He chuckled deeply. “I guess so. I love my job.”
“We all noticed,” she said. “Between you and Cash Grier, drug dealers have left trails of fire behind them running for the border.”
“We’ve got a good conviction rate,” he had to admit. “What’s holding you back? Nursing a secret passion for someone hereabouts?”
She laughed. It was half true, but she wasn’t admitting it. “Not really,” she said. “But I’m not used to socializing. I didn’t even do it in college.”
He frowned. “I know why you don’t date, Ivy,” he said unexpectedly. “You can’t live in the past. And not every man is like your father.”
Her face closed up. Her hands clenched in her lap. She stared out at the horizon, trying not to let the memories eat at her consciousness. “My mother used to say that she thought he was a perfect gentleman before they married. They went together for a year before she married him. And then she discovered how brutal a man he really was. She was pregnant, and she had no place to go.”
He caught one of her small hands in his big one. “He was an outsider,” he reminded her. “He moved here from Nevada. Nobody knew much about him. But you know people in Jacobsville.” He pursed his lips. “I daresay you know all about me.”
That droll tone surprised her into laughing. “Well, yes, I do. Everybody does. The only brutal thing about you is your temper, and you don’t hit people unless they hit you first.”
“That’s right. So you’d be perfectly safe with me for one evening.”
She sighed. “You’re hard to refuse.”
“You’ll have fun. So will I. Come on,” he coaxed. “We’ll help add some kennel space to the animal shelter and give people something to gossip about.”
“It would be fun,” she came back. “You don’t date anybody locally.”
He shrugged. “I like my own company too much. Besides,” he said ruefully, “there’s Andy. He stunts my social life.”
She shivered. “I’m not going home with you,” she pointed out.
“I know. I haven’t found a single woman who will.” He sighed resignedly. “He’s really very tame. He’s a vegetarian. He won’t even eat a mouse.”
“It won’t work. Your scaly roommate is going to keep you single, just like Cag Hart’s did.”
“I’ve had him for six years,” he said. “He’s my only pet.”
“Good thing. He’d eat any other pet you brought home.”
He scowled. “He’s a vegetarian.”
“Are you sure? Have any dogs or cats disappeared on your place since you got him?” she teased.
He made a face at her. “It’s silly to be afraid of a vegetarian. It’s like being afraid of a cow!”
Her eyebrows arched. “Andy doesn’t look like any cow I ever saw,” she retorted. “His picture was on the front page of the paper when you took him to that third grade class to teach them about herpetology. I believe there was some talk about barring you from classrooms...?”
He glowered. “He wasn’t trying to attack that girl. She was the tallest kid in the room, and he tried to climb her, that’s all.”
She had to fight laughter. “I’ll bet you won’t take him out of the cage at a grammar school ever again,” she said.
“You can bet on that,” he agreed. He frowned thoughtfully. “I expect he’ll have a terror of little girls for the rest of his life, poor old thing.”
She shook her head. “Well, I’m not going into the room with him unless he’s confined.”
“He hates cages. He’s too big for most of them, anyway. Besides, he sits on top of the fridge and eats bugs.”
“You need to get out more,” she pointed out.
“I’m trying to, if you’ll just agree,” he shot back.
She sighed. “All right, I’ll go. But people will gossip about us for weeks.”
“I don’t care. I’m immune to gossip. So are you,” he added when she started to protest.
“I guess I am. Okay. I’ll go. Is it jeans and boots?”
“No,” he replied. “It’s nice dresses and high heels.”
“I hate dressing up,” she muttered.
“So do I. But I can stand it if you can. And it’s for a good cause,” he added.
“Yes, it is.”
“So, I’ll pick you up here at six next Friday night.”
She smiled. “I’ll buy a dress.”
“That’s the spirit!”
* * *
Word got around town that she was going to the dance with Hayes. Nobody ever knew exactly how gossip traveled so fast, but it was as predictable as traffic flow in rush hour.
Even Merrie heard about it, although Ivy had no idea how. She phoned her best friend two days before the dance.
“Hayes actually asked you out?” Merrie exclaimed. “But he doesn’t date anybody! At least, he hasn’t dated anybody since that Jones girl who dumped him for the visiting Aussie millionaire.”
“That was two years ago,” Ivy agreed, “and I still don’t think he’s really over her. We’re only going to a dance, Merrie. He hasn’t asked me to marry him.”
“You never know, though, do you?” the other girl wondered aloud. “He might be feeling lonely. He loves kids.”
“Slow down!” Ivy exclaimed. “I don’t want to get married any more than Hayes does!”
“Why not?”
“I like living by myself,” she said evasively. “Anyway, I expect Hayes doesn’t know that many single women.”
“There are plenty of divorced ones around,” came the droll reply.
“The dance will benefit our animal shelter,” Ivy told her. “It will add new kennels. We’ve got so many strays. It’s just pitiful.”
“I like animals, too, but Hayes isn’t asking you to any dance because of stray dogs, you mark my word. Maybe he’s going to flash you to deter some woman who’s chasing him. That’s the sort of thing my brother does.”
“Your brother is better at it than Hayes is,” Ivy said, not wanting to think of Stuart. She hadn’t seen him in a long time.
“Well, of course he is. He gets plenty of practice.” There was a sigh. “Except he doesn’t seem to be dating anybody lately. I asked him why and he said it wasn’t fun anymore. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he’d found someone he wanted to get serious about.”
“That’s unlikely,” Ivy said, but she wondered if Merrie was right. It made her sad.
“Unlikely, but not impossible. I think I might come to the dance, too,” she said out of the blue. “I can get someone to work my shift. Everybody owes me favors.”
“Who will you come with?”
“I’ll come by myself,” Merrie returned. “I don’t need a date. Tell Hayes to save me a dance, though.”
Ivy laughed. “He can take both of us. That will really shake people up locally. They’ll think he’s putting around a new sort of double-dating.”
Merrie laughed, too. “I had a flaming crush on Hayes when we were in high school, but he couldn’t see me for dust. That was about the time he fell in with the she-tiger who ditched him for the Aussie. Served him right. Anybody could see that she was only a gold digger.”
“Hayes owns his own ranch,” she began.
“And he inherited a trust from his grandfather,” Merrie agreed. “But Hayes isn’t the sort to live on an income he didn’t earn. He’s like Stuart. They’re both independent.”
“Same as you,” Ivy accused.
She laughed. “I guess so.”
“How do you like being a nurse?”
“I love it,” Merrie said honestly. “I’ve never enjoyed anything so much. I love knowing that I helped keep someone alive. It’s the best job in the whole world.”
“Merrie, you work all day with sick people,” Ivy pointed out.
“Sick people? Me? Are you sure?”
“You work in a hospital,” Ivy returned.
“No kidding? No wonder there are sick people everywhere!”
Ivy laughed. “Okay, you made your point. You’re in the right place. I’m glad you like your job. You might not believe it, but I like mine just as much. I’m working with some really interesting people.”
“So I’ve heard,” Merrie replied. “I’m glad you’re happy. But speaking of pleasant things, have you heard from Rachel?”
Ivy’s happy face fell. She drew in a long breath. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t. Not in over two months. The last I heard, she was trying to get away from Jerry the drug dealer so that she could shack up with a richer man. She wouldn’t tell me his name. She did mention that he was married.”
“Married. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I could barely make sense of what she said,” Ivy replied. “She slurred her words so badly that she was incoherent. I can’t imagine what a rich man would see in a woman who stays stoned all the time. How she can still act in that condition is beyond me.”
“As long as she’s leaving you alone, that has to be a bonus.”
“I suppose. I just worry about her. She’s the only living relative I have,” she added. “Maybe the rich guy will wean her off drugs and get her away from Jerry for good. Unless his wife finds out.” She groaned. “That’s just what it would take to send Rachel over the edge. I’m sure she’s convinced herself that he’ll divorce his wife to stay with her. I don’t think he will.”
“Most of them don’t,” Merrie agreed. “Did she argue with the drug dealer?”
“I have no idea. But from what I understood, she thinks she’s landed in a field of clover. The rich guy buys her diamonds.”
“I won’t ask what he gets in return.”
Ivy grimaced. “Neither would I.”
“Well, I’ll see you at the dance. Where is it, and when?”
Ivy gave her the particulars, but she was morose when she hung up. What if Rachel was involved with someone well-known and the wife found out and went after her in the press? Rachel was brassy and demanding and totally lacking in compassion. But she was weak in every other way. A scandal would drive her over the edge. There was no telling what she might do.
There had been something unusual in their last conversation as well. Rachel had asked her to pass a message along to the owner of the only bakery in town, the Bun Shop. It hadn’t made sense to Ivy; something about a shipment of flour that hadn’t arrived on schedule. She wanted to know why Rachel was concerned with a bake shop. Rachel said it was a friend who needed the message passed along.
That conversation had been more volatile than she felt comfortable divulging to Merrie. Rachel had mentioned the ultimatum she’d given her rich lover, that either he divorce his wife or she’d go public with the truth of their relationship. Ivy had pleaded with her to do no such thing, that if the man was that rich, his wife could hire someone to hurt her. Rachel had only laughed, saying that the wife was a cold fish who was half out of her mind, and that she posed no threat at all. But in case that fell through, she said, she’d discovered another good way to get a lot of money. She taunted Ivy with her newfound sources of wealth, intimating that Ivy couldn’t get a man even if she had millions. Ivy didn’t care. She was tired of Rachel’s sarcasm.
They’d parted on not good terms. Rachel had accused her of being jealous. She’d never gotten the attention Rachel had, not even from their father. Ivy was just a loser, Rachel said, and she’d never be more than a clerk. Ivy had agreed that Rachel had gotten more attention at home, by lying about Ivy to their father and letting her take the punishment their father had deemed appropriate for her supposed sins.
Rachel had sounded shocked at the description of their father’s idea of punishment. Ivy was lying, she’d accused. The old man hadn’t had a violent bone in his body. He loved Rachel, Ivy reminded her sister bitterly. Ivy was just the servant, and the more Rachel denounced her, the more critical and angry he became.
For a few seconds, Rachel actually sounded regretful. But it passed, as those rare bouts of sympathy always did. Rachel hung up abruptly, mumbling that her lover was at the door.
Ivy put down the phone and realized that she was shaking. Reliving those last days Rachel was at home made her miserable. Her memories were terrible.
* * *
She did go shopping for a dress, but the boutique owner she kept books for insisted on letting her borrow one of her own designs for the affair.
“It’s my display model,” Marcella Black insisted, “and just your size. Besides, it’s the exact shade of green that your eyes are. You come by here at five, and I’ll help you into it and I’ll do your hair and makeup as well. No arguments. You’re going to be a fairy princess Friday night.”
“I’ll turn into the frog at midnight,” Ivy teased.
“Fat chance.”
“All right. I’ll come by at five on Friday. And thanks, Marcella. Really.”
The older woman wrinkled her nose affectionately. “You just tell everybody who made that dress for you, and we’re even.”
“You bet I will!”
* * *
Hayes wasn’t wearing his uniform. He had on a dark suit with a white cotton shirt and a blue patterned tie. His shoes were so shiny that they reflected the porch light at Mrs. Brown’s rooming house.
Ivy had just returned in the little used VW she’d bought and learned to drive two years earlier from Marcella’s boutique, where she’d been dressed and her long blond hair had been put up in a curly coiffure. She had on just enough makeup to make her look sensational. She was shocked at the results. She’d never really tried to look good. Her mirror told her that she did.
Hayes gave her a long, appreciative stare. “You look lovely,” he said quietly. He produced a plastic container with a cymbidium orchid inside. He offered it with a little shrug. “She said that women wear them on their wrists these days.”
“Yes,” she said, “so they don’t get crushed when we dance. You didn’t have to do this, Hayes,” she said, taking the orchid out of the box. “But thank you. It’s just beautiful.”
“I thought you might like it. Ready to go?”
She nodded, pulling the door closed behind her. She had a small evening bag that Marcella had loaned her to go with the dress. She really did feel like Cinderella.
* * *
The community center was full to the brim with local citizens supporting the animal shelter. Two of the veterinarians who volunteered at the animal clinic were there with their spouses, and most of the leading lights of Jacobsville turned up as well. Justin and Shelby Ballenger came with their three sons. The eldest was working at the feedlot with Justin during the summer and working on his graduate degree in animal husbandry the rest of the year. The other two boys were still in high school, but ready to graduate. The three of them looked like their father, although the youngest had Shelby’s blue-gray eyes. The Tremayne brothers and the Hart boys came with their wives. Micah Steele and his Callie came, and so did the Doctors Coltrain, Lou and her husband “Copper.” J. D. Langley and Fay, and Matt Caldwell and his wife Leslie, and Cash Grier with his Tippy were also milling around in the crowd. Ivy spotted Judd Dunn and his wife, Christabel, in a corner, looking as much in love as when they’d first married.
“Amazing, isn’t it, that the hall could hold all these people?” Hayes remarked as he led Ivy up the steps into the huge log structure.
“It really is. I’ll bet they’ll be able to add a whole new kennel with what they make tonight.”
He smiled down at her. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
They bumped into another couple, one of whom was Willie Carr, who owned the bakery. Then she remembered Rachel’s odd message that she was supposed to give him.
“Willie, Rachel asked me to tell you something,” she said, frowning as she struggled to remember exactly what it was.
Willie, tall and dark, looked uncomfortable. He laughed. “Now why would Rachel be sending me messages?” he asked, glancing at his wife. “I’m not cheating on you, baby, honest!”
“Oh, no, it wasn’t that sort of message,” Ivy said quickly. “It was something about a shipment of flour you were expecting that didn’t arrive.”
Willie cleared his throat. “I don’t know anything about any shipment of flour that would go to New York City, Ivy,” he assured her. “Rachel must have been talking about somebody else.”
“Yes, I guess she must have. Sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile. “She’s incoherent most of the time lately.”
“I’d say she is, if she’s sending me messages about flour!” Willie agreed. He nodded at her and then at Hayes, and drew his wife back out onto the dance floor.
Hayes caught her hand and pulled her aside. “What shipment of flour was Rachel talking about?” he asked suddenly, and he wasn’t smiling.
“I really don’t know. She just said to tell Willie one was missing. She doesn’t even eat sweets...”
“How long ago did she tell you to give Willie that message?” he persisted.
“About two days ago,” she said. She frowned. “Why?”
Hayes took her by the hand and drew her along the dance floor to where Cash Grier was standing at the punch bowl with his gorgeous redheaded wife, Tippy.
“How’s it going?” Cash greeted them, shaking hands with Hayes.
Hayes stepped closer. “Rachel sent Willie over there—” he jerked his head toward Willie, who was oblivious to the attention he was getting “—a message.”
Cash was all business at once. “What message?”
Hayes prompted Ivy to repeat it.
“Code?” Cash asked Hayes.
The other man nodded. “It was two days ago that Ivy got the message.”
Cash’s dark eyes twinkled. “What a coincidence.”
“Yes.”
“Which proves that connection we were discussing earlier.” He turned to Ivy. “If your sister sends any more messages to Willie, or anyone else, by you, tell Hayes, would you?”
She was all at sea. “Rachel’s mixed up in something, isn’t she?”
“Not necessarily,” Hayes said at once. “But she knows someone who is, we think. Don’t advertise this, either.”
Ivy shook her head. “I’m no gossip.” She grimaced. “Rachel’s getting mixed up with some rich man, and she’s trying to get away from her boyfriend, who deals drugs. The rich man is married. I’m afraid it’s all going to end badly.”
“People who get involved with drugs usually do end badly,” Hayes said somberly.
“Yes, they do,” Ivy had to agree. She smiled at Tippy, who was wearing a green and white dress made of silk and chiffon. “You look lovely.”
“Thanks,” Tippy replied, smiling. “So do you, Ivy. Marcella made my dress, you know. She made yours, too, didn’t she?”
Ivy nodded, grinning. “She’s amazing.”
“I think so, too,” Tippy agreed. “I’ve sent photos of her work to some friends of mine in New York. Don’t tell her. It’s a surprise.”
“If anything comes of it, she’ll be so thrilled. That was sweet of you.”
Tippy waved away the compliment. “She’s so talented, she deserves a break.”
“Well, I came here to dance,” Hayes informed them, taking Ivy’s hand.
Cash pursed his lips. “Really?”
“I know I’m not in your league, Grier,” Hayes said dourly, “but I can do the Macarena, if we can get somebody to play it.”
“You can?” Cash chuckled. “By a strange coincidence, so can I. And I taught her.” He indicated Tippy.
“In that case,” Hayes replied, grinning, “may the best sheriff win.”
And he went off to talk to the bandleader.
The band stopped suddenly, talked among the members and they all started grinning when Hayes came back to wrap his arm around Ivy.
“One, two, three, four,” the bandleader counted off, and the band broke into the Macarena.
Ivy knew the steps, having watched a number of important people dance it on television some years before. She wasn’t the only one who remembered. The dance floor filled up with laughing people.
Hayes performed the quick hand motions with expertise, laughing as hard as Ivy was. They got through the second chorus and Ivy almost collapsed into Hayes’s strong arms, resting her cheek against his chest.
“I’m out of shape!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I need to get out more!”
“Just what I was thinking,” he replied, smiling down at her.
Ivy happened to glance toward the doorway at that moment. Her gaze met a pair of pale blue eyes that were glittering like a diamondback rattlesnake coiling. Ivy’s heart ran away as Stuart York gave her a look that could have fried bread.
