Intimate Portraits (7 page)

Autumn would have cracked up at
Rennie’s expression if she hadn’t been too busy trying to figure out where she’d
seen Kiki.

“I’m next door.” Kiki gestured. “I
met Elena this morning.” Every finger including the thumb wore rings, some of
them large. The gems’ gaudy sparkle made two big South Sea pearls look cheap.

Too much jewelry. Even more than
Sarita wore.

If this woman and Sarita ever met,
they’d hit it off. Like a child playing dress-up, Sarita had flaunted pins and
necklaces and earrings for Autumn’s photos. When Autumn begged for simpler
shots, Sarita had refused. “This is me!” She’d thrown her arms wide and whirled.
“Take the bling or leave it.”

If Autumn went to California,
maybe she could talk Sarita into posing without ornamentation.

If
. Now that Rennie was back minus Jane,
did she want to go?

Kiki was rattling on. “So I told
her to yell like hell if she saw The Hulk trying to get in my cottage. I think
the steroids from when he played pro ball baked his brain.”

Ah. Now she had it.

Roger Ballencer, a onetime
linebacker for the Vikings and Falcons, had married the socialite ex-wife of Atlanta
entrepreneur Thomas Woodring Picksten. No wonder Kiki took recognition for
granted. Scarcely a month went by that her name or photograph wasn’t in the news.

Now Kiki pouted. “Roger’s a fricking
psychopath. He threatened me with all kinds of shit if I left him, so I didn’t
tell him where I was going but who knows what he’ll do if he finds me. Anyway,
Elena said that I shouldn’t worry, that y’all would keep an eye out for me. Is
this your wife, Rennie?”

Rennie blinked, taken off guard
by the abrupt question coming after the stream of artless confidences.

Or by the question itself.

For pity’s sake. He didn’t want to
be linked to Autumn, even in casual conversation.

“No, I’m not his wife,” she all
but snapped. “I’m Autumn Merriwell, a friend of Elena’s.”

She reached into the car for her coat
to avoid Rennie’s eyes, but heard him murmur, “A friend of mine, too, I hope.”

Like she’d been the one tromping
on feelings.

Autumn closed the car door. His
bewilderment brought on guilt. “Well, sure. That goes without saying.”

She was too prickly. He hadn’t
thought a thing about Kiki referring to her as his wife.

Kiki stopped checking Rennie out long
enough to stick out her hand. “Hi, Autumn. Hey, your coat looks like mine. Can
you imagine two people ending up in this godforsaken place with the same jacket?”

Diamond pendant earrings flashed
when she moved closer. “Close to the same color, but yours is lighter, don’t
you think? I got mine in England a few years ago. I was pulling myself together
after catching my second husband doing the maid, the louse. They say third time
lucky but, my dears, they are so fricking wrong. Tom may have been unfaithful
but he was at least a gentleman. Roger’s a stinking SOB. That’s why I’m hiding
here till after the divorce hearing.”

Thin lips turned ugly. “Then we’ll
see who comes out ahead. After I'm through, he’ll be lucky to have a pot to pee
in.”

Rennie shied away.

Remembering her audience, Kiki
batted her eyelashes and tried to look helpless. She didn’t succeed. “I'm terrified.
My lawyer got a restraining order, but… Husbands!” She shuddered, turned to
Autumn. “Wherever did you find yours? Not here, I’ll bet, unless it was a
specialty shop at Lenox or Phipps.”

Find her husband? Autumn blinked.
What husband?

Oh. The jacket.

“Harrods.” She stroked the bright
blue wool.

She and Aunt Laura had gone on a
London tour after Uncle Parnell died. Her aunt, spotting the coat, had bought
it for Autumn. “Looking at that wonderful color makes me happy.” Grief had
softened her and temporarily drawn her and Autumn closer. “Blue’s never been my
color but on you, it’s perfect.”

Now Kiki crowed. “Harrods. I knew
it. Do you mind?” The ringed fingers tugged and turned the lapels out. “Same
label as mine. How about that. Isn’t it a small world?”

After they agreed it was, Kiki
volunteered the information, somewhere in the middle of lamenting the lack of
telephone and television and microwave and dishwasher in the cabins, that she
had seen Elena and her friends go out about a half hour before. “Can you get inside?
You’re welcome to stay with me.”

Rennie said, too quickly, “Thanks,
but we picked up a key at the lodge.”

Kiki pulled her jacket close. “Good.
You don’t want to be stuck outside for hours. It’s too fricking cold. And
forget taking a long hot shower. The water got so cold so quick, I had to climb
out and stand in front of the fire. Speaking of which, I’m heading up to the
lodge to buy some of their expensive firewood. My dears, you would think they
could give you enough wood to burn for the days you’ve rented the place,
considering the hideous lack of decent amenities. Do come over and see me. I’m
having friends up Sunday for dinner and you’re more than welcome to join us.”
She fluttered her lashes at Rennie.

Again Rennie was quick. “Wish we
could, but Laney has the weekend all mapped out.”

“Oh, too bad.” Her face fell. “Well,
if your plans change, let me know.” Even in the fading sun, her farewell wave
spun a rainbow of colors before she climbed into the Ferrari.

“Whew,” Rennie said after Kiki had
pulled away and they started carting bags and groceries to the cabin. “She sure
does chatter, doesn’t she?” He opened the door. “And you and she have something
in common, Autumn. You’re both globe-trotters.”

“Yeah, real globe-trotters. She
goes to England to get over her husband cheating, and Aunt Laura and I go to
get over my uncle dying. And now Aunt Laura’s gone, too.”

Why’d I say that?
Too late to take the whiny words
back.

His surprised glance flickered. “Sorry.
I didn’t think.”

What had come over her? She never
let hurt and disappointment spill out like that. Never.

She set down the groceries on the
counter. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“It’s all right to grieve,
Autumn.”

“But not to unload my baggage on
you.”

“You didn’t even want to claim me
as a friend to the ditz.”

Rennie had a knack for making
people ashamed. His sisters complained about his underhanded use of
embarrassment, sympathy, and forgiveness. At the moment, Autumn heartily agreed.
It was unnerving to find herself the focus of his reproach.

On the other hand, he never
betrayed a confidence.

He cared because he was a friend.

You’re like my sister
, he’d said as she sobbed her
heart out long ago.
I won’t let you do anything foolish like running off.

“You know you’re my friend, Rennie.
I didn’t want you embarrassed by Kiki lumping us together as a couple.”

He raised his brows.

She rushed past the dangerous
subject. “I do miss my uncle and aunt. They were hard to live with, but they
were all I had.”

Parnell and Laura Merriwell had
taken her in after her parents’ car accident. Childless themselves and unsure
what to do with a five-year-old, they tried their best. They might have lacked a
warmth and understanding of children, but the Degardoveras had filled the gaps.

Sometimes being with the
Degardoveras hurt, to see their easy interplay and understanding and know that,
close as she felt to Laney and the rest, she wasn’t part of them.

After Rennie’s kind but firm
rebuff, Autumn had faced the truth: she was an outsider. An outsider in her
aunt and uncle’s lives, an outsider in the Degardoveras’ lives, an outsider in
everyone’s life.

No matter how much she wanted to
belong to someone, somewhere, she would always be odd man out.

But she’d accepted it. After her
uncle’s death, working with Aunt Laura had helped. Once her aunt died, her last
tenuous claim to a family, no matter how dysfunctional, was gone.

Usually she managed not to let it
bother her, but here with Rennie, all the old yearnings rushed back.

“Sometimes I feel so alone,” she
confessed as they put away groceries. “Sometimes I think if I come down with an
incurable disease or get murdered or kidnapped, no one would care.”

“Not true.” He laid his hand on
her shoulder. “You have us.”

No, she wanted to shout. She didn’t
have the Degardoveras, and she didn’t have Rennie. Not the way she wanted him. Even
if she gathered up her courage to try again, it wouldn’t do any good.

Rennie liked perky, assertive livewires
like Jane. And he thought of Autumn as a sister.

She forced a smile, too aware of
his comforting hand. “Thank goodness for the Degardoveras. Wonder where Laney
and John went.”

“Shopping for groceries, I hope.”
He squeezed her shoulder before moving away. “This fridge is barer than yours. Want
to ride back to town and look for them?”

“Yeah, let’s. They're having a
live glockenspiel this year. If we hurry, maybe we can catch it.”

“Ooooh, man!” Rennie threw up his
hands. “Let’s hurry then. There’s nothing I want to do more in this entire
world than catch the live gluckenfeel.”

****

Rennie couldn’t believe the kid
felt so lonely.

The
woman
.

He had to stop thinking of Autumn
as the forlorn little girl his mother had brought home.

“This is Autumn,” Reseda had
announced to her brood. The child stood apart, bored, clutching an overnight
bag. Reseda laid her arm over the skinny shoulders, drawing the girl against
one ample hip. “She’s come to live with her aunt and uncle, but she’s going to
stay with us a few days while her aunt has surgery. Laney, take her to your and
Norma’s room and show her where to put her things.”

Panic briefly showed in eyes as
blue as his mother’s hydrangea flowers.

That’s when he realized Autumn
hadn’t been bored. She’d been scared to death.

Sounded like she still was.

Well, if she wanted to see a live
gluckenfeel, whatever a gluckenfeel was, they would find one. Anything to cheer
her up.

From the time they met, he’d looked
out for Autumn, made sure his rambunctious family didn’t swallow her up.
Strange how the old protective instincts came back.

After he parked in front of the
Alpine Village Shops, they began the walk back up to the heart of the old town.

Decades before, citizens and storeowners
had transformed Helen into a copy of an alpine village to attract people visiting
the nearby lakes and forests in the north Georgia foothills. A small shopping
mall and expanded holiday festivities led to year-round tourist events like
balloon races or Octoberfests or river tubing.

The Alpenlights, marked by holiday
lights strung on every lamppost, sign and building, ran from the beginning of
December into the New Year, but this first part of the celebration found things
slow.

Rennie liked not being stuck in
throngs of people as they strolled. Soon the open area of the parking lot gave
way to sidewalks lined with wire forms depicting reindeer, French horns, and
other symbols of the season. Large balloon figures represented Helen’s annual balloon
race, but twinkling lights hadn’t yet come on to turn the mock alpine village
into an evening fairyland.

As dusk neared, Autumn and Rennie,
breathless after walking uphill, arrived in the middle of the profuse gables
and turrets and gaily painted storefronts.

A familiar red-suited figure sat in
a sleigh surrounded by giggling children. When a small tyke in line bolted at
the last minute, Autumn stepped up and asked Santa about the live whatever-it-was
she wanted to see.

Rennie ambled after her, amused
at such single-mindedness. When had she become so intrepid? This Autumn was a
far cry from the retiring child he remembered.

“Saturdays and Sundays,” Santa
told them from under his white beard. A real beard. “At two and four in the
afternoon, weather permitting. There’s one at Charlemagne’s House y’all can see
today. It’s not live but it’s nice. You can make the six o'clock show if you go
now.”

Autumn’s face fell. “No, I’ve
been to it before. I wanted to see the live one.”

“Well, then, come back tomorrow.”

She turned away. “Drat. Laney’s
got the hike at Anna Ruby Falls planned for tomorrow. I hate missing the live
one.”

“Awww. Me, too.” He grabbed her
arm. “Hey, watch out!”

He scooted her out of the runaway’s
path as the little boy’s parents chased him, protesting loudly, back toward
Santa.

Time to cheer her up. “I’ll tell
you what.” He fell into step beside her and leaned over confidentially,
breathing in roses. “We’ll probably get lost in the wilderness anyway so let’s
stand up to Laney, demand she let us skip the hike tomorrow and come see this
gluckenfeel. If we stick together, we might have a chance against her. She can’t
take us on a twenty-mile hike if we all boycott it. What d’you say?”