Cassandra Austin (14 page)

“I understand. It’s wonderful to have them here, isn’t it? Their pretty dresses and their laughter, they just brighten up the place, don’t they?”

He nodded. “They’ve changed everything,” he said.

* * *

Christian showed up for lunch. Lynnette was watching Emily rearrange the flowers on the table when he came around the base of the stairs. Her first reaction was elation—her second was shame. Aside from a brief nod in his direction she refused to look at him.

She heard Emily greeting him with some saucy remark and him making a teasing response. She wasn’t listening. Her third reaction, now that she had a moment to think, was fear. She didn’t even have Arlen here to distract her.

And things were different from the last time she had eaten with him. She knew herself to be in love with him. At the thought an unexpected joy rose in her breast before she had a chance to tamp it down. There was nothing,
nothing
, to feel joy about. It was an impossible love.

She glanced in his direction. His attention was solely on his sister. Did he give any thought to her at all? She shook herself. Of course not! And she should be glad! Things were bad enough as they were.

Hugh joined them, and they all took their places. Christian told Emily where Arlen had gone and when to expect him back. Friday, Lynnette thought. She would have until then to treasure every moment she could with Christian. Of course that would be somewhat awkward since she hadn’t yet entered the barn and that seemed to be where he spent most of his time.

What was she thinking? she scolded herself. She wasn’t going to start flirting with Christian. It would be best to avoid him as much as possible, then let Arlen down easy and go.

Go where?
She had no idea.

Christian watched Lynnette while trying to appear not to. She was preoccupied. Once in a while she would recall herself and eat for a few minutes, even smile at Emily, but soon she would drift away again.

She missed Arlen already. The boy must have done a fine job. He would have to tell him he was proud of him. If he could fight off the urge to punch him in the mouth.

He pulled his eyes away. Emily was trying to talk their father into letting her go to Rose’s tomorrow. She had tried several arguments, but Hugh wasn’t giving in.

“You’ve barely been here a full week, and you’re ready to leave?” Hugh kept saying.

“You should have used all your fine debating skills on Rose,” Christian suggested.

“Well, I did!” she declared. “But she has to wait for her dumb old horse to foal. I even told her if she came now she’d be here when Elayne foals, and that would be just as good.”

“Only a city girl would see it that way,” he said. His eyes went directly to Lynnette, who was listening for once. His luck. “No offense intended,” he said.

She laughed, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. “I’m afraid I was about to agree with Emily,” she said with a wide-eyed innocence that was just a tad overdone.

“See,” Emily said. His peripheral vision suggested she had made a face at him, but he didn’t take his eyes off Lynnette. He couldn’t. She laughed at Emily now, her eyes dancing, so different from the pensive look of a few minutes before.

Emily gave up the subject and went on to other things. She and Lynnette arranged to read and sew during the afternoon. Hugh asked Lynnette about her writing, and she answered briefly and noncommittally. Emily expounded on a story she had been forced to write in composition class.

Soon the meal was finished, and he was on his way back to work. He was glad he had come in for lunch. The brief exchange of innocent smiles with Lynnette would stand out as the bright spot in his day. Though he knew he should dread it, he was already looking forward to dinner.

“Do you mind if we skip a few chapters? I’ve been reading ahead.”

Lynnette smiled at Emily. “That’s fine. I’ve read the book several times already. I’ll be able to follow along.”

“Good. I didn’t want to have to reread.” Emily settled into the chair and soon became engrossed in the book.

Lynnette had been unable to borrow any sewing from Martha so she stitched a tiny pink rosebud on Emily’s nightgown. She was determined to concentrate solely on the stitches and the story. As a result neither of them noticed when a buggy pulled into the yard. The first they knew they had visitors was the burst of noise as the back door was flung open.

“Rose!” Emily shouted, tossing aside the book.

Rose flew into the room and threw herself into Emily’s arms. Christian and an older man she guessed to
be Rose’s father followed behind, both of them laden with bags.

Emily introduced Rose to Lynnette and the girls headed for the kitchen in search of lemonade. Lynnette didn’t think of following; her attention was centered on Christian. He had dropped the bags on the floor and instructed his companion to do the same, promising to take care of them later.

“Let me introduce our houseguest,” he said, advancing on Lynnette. “Lynnette, this is Rose’s father, Morton Blainey. Morton, meet Lynnette Sterling, Arlen’s future wife.”

Lynnette wished the words hadn’t come so easily for him. Was she hoping he felt some of the pain she did? How selfish! She smiled warmly at Rose’s father and extended her hand. He shook it, and Christian indicated they should sit down.

“Emily will play hostess and bring the lemonade. Would you care for something stronger, Morton?” Christian had already opened a cabinet and removed a glass decanter.

“A shot of something wouldn’t hurt,” Morton said.

Christian filled a small glass. “Lynnette?”

She had been watching every move he made, every flex of his shoulder, arm, fingers. Hearing her name on his lips made her jump. Was he asking why she stared at him?

The next instant she realized he was holding up the decanter, offering her a drink. “No, thank you,” she said hastily.

He poured a second glass half-full and put the decanter
away. Handing the full glass to Blainey, he settled into another of the leather-covered chairs.

“Not a very generous drink you poured yourself,” Morton said, savoring the smell of his own.

Christian shook his head. “I’m working with some young horses out there, and I don’t want to give them any advantage. I’m barely smarter than they are as it is.”

His smile was devastating. She hadn’t seen him in the role of host before. He was friendly, charming and relaxed, even though he had left his work to usher them into the house.

Hugh came in from the study. “I thought I heard someone arrive,” he said, walking quickly toward the guest. Blainey rose to shake his hand, then both men were seated again, Hugh in the chair beside Lynnette that Emily had vacated. He removed the book that was wedged between him and the armrest and cast Lynnette a rueful smile.

“We weren’t expecting to see you so soon,” he said, turning his attention to Blainey. “Did your daughter change her mind about waiting for the foal?”

Blainey’s expression turned serious. “No. We lost it yesterday.” He nodded at everyone’s sympathetic reaction before he went on. “She’s understandably upset. Her mother and I thought coming here would be the best thing to lift her spirits.”

“I’m sorry about the foal, Morton,” Hugh said. “But I’m grateful for your daughter’s arrival. Emily’s been pestering me to let her go to Rose.”

“I don’t pester,” announced Emily. She carried a
pitcher of lemonade, and Rose followed with a tray of several glasses.

“That’s right, Muffin,” Christian said. “I wouldn’t call it pestering. I’d call it…nagging.”

Emily sneered at him. Turning to Rose, she removed a glass from the tray and filled it. “I don’t believe Christian gets any lemonade.” Her tone was soft as if she were giving the other girl instructions.

Christian laughed. “I’ll regret it the entire afternoon.” He set the liquor aside unfinished and rose to his feet. “Good to see you again,” he said to Blainey, giving his hand a shake. He nodded to the rest. “Rose,” he said, gracing her with a sincere smile, “we’re glad to have you here.”

Lynnette watched him until he disappeared. She felt a pang of jealousy at the way he looked at Emily’s young friend. She turned toward Rose, but it was too late to read the girl’s reaction. She should have looked sooner but had been unable to take her eyes off Christian.

While the girls served the lemonade, Lynnette studied Rose. She was a lovely girl, more beautiful than Emily in a simple, less sophisticated way, taller and more slender. She looked to be a few years older than Emily, sixteen perhaps. Her blond hair was shiny with windblown tendrils curling around her face.

Of course Christian would find her attractive. She was, besides being beautiful, a country girl who understood why one foal was not the same as the next She swallowed a sip of lemonade to wash down the bitterness. He had seen her as a city girl from the beginning and dismissed her.

No. She was being stupid. He had seen her as Arlen’s fiancée and had too much integrity to see anything else. She was the one at fault. She looked back at Rose, now in whispered conversation with Emily.

The men stood and Lynnette realized they had carried on a conversation beside her, and she hadn’t heard a word. She could only hope neither one had tried to include her. Rose ran to kiss her father goodbye, and Hugh saw Blainey to the door.

The girls returned their glasses to the tray and ran to the pile of bags. Rose chose one for Emily to carry and picked up one herself, then they ran chattering up the stairs.

Lynnette sat in the sudden quiet. What could she do now to distract herself from thoughts of Christian? She eyed the gown draped on top of Emily’s sewing basket Sewing allowed far too much room to think, but evidently a room full of people did as well. Nothing would stop her from thinking of Christian.

With a sigh she stood and gathered all the dirty glasses, including Christian’s. The temptation to touch her tongue to the rim of his glass appalled her. She quickly set it on the tray with the others and carried them and the pitcher to the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty. Martha had cleaned up from lunch, and it was too early to start dinner. Lynnette found a kettle of warm water on the stove and used it to wash the glasses. Images of Christian swirled in her mind the entire time. She laughed ruefully at herself as she put the last glass in its place on the shelf. If she was going to spend the afternoon preoccupied
with Christian, she might as well put it to constructive use.

The anticipation built as she left the kitchen and hurried to her room. She was about to release her rancher hero from his prison in the bottom of her trunk.

T
he girlish chatter in the house seemed to have doubled. Christian washed for dinner and headed for the dining room. He rounded the stairway and stopped, watching the scene. All three ladies were clustered near the table, talking and laughing. He could pick out only an occasional word of their discussion and decided it had to do with fashions. How any of
them
followed the discussion was a mystery. There were two voices audible at one moment, and whispering or giggling the next.

They had all chosen bright-colored dresses, Lynnette’s cheerful blue gown being the most subdued. Still his eyes fell on her instantly. Her back, was to him, and he took the opportunity to admire her narrow waist and feminine hips.

There had evidently been some conspiring, for each lady’s hair was styled quite elaborately, including Lynnette’s. It was caught up high in the back and cascaded down in soft ringlets. He was dying to know if she left curls around her face the way Emily liked to. Or if she would think that was too untidy.

If they knew he was there she would turn around, but he was reluctant to end this chance to stand and watch them unobserved. The younger girls had evidently taken her into their confidence. She was doing her share of talking and laughing.

A touch at his shoulder made him glance aside. Hugh had joined him. “Lovely, aren’t they?” he murmured softly.

He nodded, his eyes on Lynnette as she turned around. He caught his breath. Her face was framed with thin wisps of curls that softened the delicate features. She looked more doll-like than ever, or would have but for the saucy grin on her face.

“How long have you been standing there?” Emily demanded, bringing one fist to her hip.

“We were just enjoying some of nature’s beauties,” Hugh said, stepping forward.

“Imagine our surprise,” said Christian, trying to keep his eyes on Emily—and off Lynnette, “to come in and find a flock of magpies in our dining room.”

This was greeted with a small outburst of indignation and barely stifled giggles. Christian stood back and watched his father hold a chair for each of the ladies. He noticed Rose was seated at his usual place beside Emily. It didn’t take a genius to know where that left him. He waited until Hugh took his place before he rounded the table to sit beside Lynnette.

After the blessing, food was brought to the table. The ladies exchanged conspiratorial glances as the food was passed.

“What were you ladies discussing?” Hugh asked.
It sounded for all the world like a casual question, not an effort to get to the bottom of all that giggling.

Christian leaned forward, repeating the question with his own emphasis. “Yes. What
were
you ladies discussing?”

“We were discussing…fashion,” Emily said. The other ladies tried unsuccessfully to hide their grins. “
Men’s
fashion,” she added.

“That’s right,” offered Lynnette. “We were discussing what each of us thought looked good on men.”

“Well!” Christian stated with exaggerated shock. “I’m not sure that’s proper at all. How did my costume rate?” He tugged at the front of his shirt and waved away imaginary dust.

“Better than you might think,” Emily murmured.

He couldn’t hide his surprise. “Better than I—?”

Lynnette cut him off. “But I don’t think we should discuss our findings.”

All three shook their heads, pursing their lips.

Rose spoke for the first time. “As my mother always says, men are funny about things they don’t understand.”

Hugh and Christian exchanged looks of wounded pride. “We’re outnumbered,” Christian said.

“And unarmed,” stated Emily firmly.

The conversation turned to Emily’s plans while Rose was there. Christian happily left it to his father to listen and comment. He tuned it out and concentrated on the woman beside him. Her mood was strikingly different than that at lunch. He had decided then
that she missed Arlen, was disappointed that he had left. If that had been the case, she’d gotten over it!

He was certain that she barely followed what Emily said. He knew he shouldn’t give in to his curiosity, but he leaned toward her. “Have you been listening to that all afternoon?” he asked softly.

She stifled a laugh, biting her lip. He noticed the barest glance at Emily before she turned to him. “The walls upstairs muffled it sufficiently.”

“Good,” he murmured. Sufficiently for what? For writing, he supposed. Was that what had her filled with anticipation? He knew he didn’t imagine it. He could sense the excitement in the tension in her body, in the light in her eyes. If he didn’t know better, he would think she was expecting to meet a lover.

He excused himself early and left to start the evening chores. His evenings were a little freer with Rose here because the girls braided each other’s hair. And, with Arlen gone, he could dig the book out of its hiding place and get some insight into the thinking of Lynnette “Silver Nightingale” Sterling.

Christian stared at the streak of moonlight angling across his ceiling. He couldn’t get the smile off his face.
Passion’s Secret
had few secrets and less passion. Basically, it was a sweet love story. No one who actually read it could declare it scandalous.

The author could be accused of some lack of humility, perhaps. Every detail of the dark-haired heroine could have described Lynnette herself. But maybe he wanted to picture Lynnette as the heroine and had filled in the details himself.

His ego had taken a blow where the hero was concerned. He was dark and sophisticated, a wealthy man with no designated source of income. His formal attire got enough attention for this evening’s girl talk to take on a different light. It wasn’t the
cut
of the clothes she described so much as the
fit.
She had spent considerable time and interest looking at men.

But not touching. He was sure of that. She had no idea what consuming desire felt like, even if she knew the phrase and liked to use it.

Or at least she hadn’t known when she wrote the book. Arlen might have changed that. He groaned aloud. It had been impossible to put Arlen out of his mind while he read. He would have enjoyed it a lot more if he could have. And now, he would have liked to lie here and imagine himself teaching her all the things she didn’t know. But again Arlen intruded.

It was late. He had read the thin volume straight through and most of the night was gone. He closed his eyes and tried to put Lynnette out of his mind.

Someone called her name. She heard it on the edge of sleep and struggled awake. Father! He needed her again, as he did so often at night. She sat up and threw the covers off her legs before the room solidified around here.

She couldn’t have heard her father. He was dead, gone now for several weeks. What had she heard?

“Tyrant?” she whispered. There was no answering mew.

Perhaps someone had called to her from the hallway.
She got up and crossed to the door, opening it a crack. No one was there. The house was quiet.

She returned to the bed and snuggled under the covers. She must have dreamed it. She couldn’t remember dreaming about her father, but it was possible.

She had come to some upsetting decisions yesterday. She was surely feeling the strain of those decisions. The last time she had felt this lost was after her father had died. Surely that was what had caused the dream.

Yesterday she had buried herself in her story, had even written after dinner and into the night It had worked to keep her mind off her situation, but the distress had evidently caught up with her in her sleep.

She closed her eyes, recalling the last scene she had written, letting her imagination take her into the next She fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

“I’m sorry your mare lost her foal,” Emily offered. Rose hadn’t been her usual self, and Emily was at a loss as to how to cheer her up. They had taken a light breakfast, then gone back to Emily’s room where Rose had flung herself across the bed and expressed no interest in doing anything Emily suggested.

Rose sighed. “Thanks, Emily. Elayne will do better, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” Emily said, sitting on the corner of the bed and watching her friend’s face. “Do you want to go riding this afternoon?”

Rose shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you like her?”

“Who?” Emily asked.

“
Her.
Lynnette.”

Emily smiled. “Sure. She’s nice. Don’t you think so?”

Rose looked more mournful than ever. “Yeah, I guess I like her too.”

Emily couldn’t hold back a laugh, her friend looked so funny. “Are you afraid she’ll become my new best friend?”

“No,” Rose said, sitting up. “Though that would make it even harder to bear.”

“Rose, you’re not making any sense.”

“She’s going to marry Arlen.” Rose flopped backward and threw an arm across her eyes. “How could he do it?”

Emily shrugged. “He’s old. He’s supposed to get married. What difference does—?” She gasped, leaning toward her friend. “Are you in love with Arlen?”

Rose nodded, flinging her arms outward to gaze at the ceiling. “Since forever!”

Emily stared. “Arlen? Why? I mean…Arlen?”

A dreamy look came over the soft features. “He’s so handsome, and cultured, and polite.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“I didn’t even know about
her
until I got here. He’s never even given me a chance.”

Emily leaped to her feet and paced across the room. “We ought to make him give you that chance, Rose.”

Rose sat up to watch her. “What do you mean?”

“Well—” Emily tapped her lip with a finger “—I like her fine, but not the way I like you. If I could choose, I’d rather have you as my sister. Besides, I don’t think Christian likes her.”

“What…?”

“You saw the way he hurried off after dinner when he had to sit beside her.” She talked faster, warming to the subject. “He’s hardly ever around, and I think it’s because of her.”

Rose waved her to silence. “No, I mean what do you mean about Arlen giving me a chance?”

Emily came to sit on the bed. “I don’t know. But we have to do something before it’s too late.”

The girls stared at each other. Emily finally spoke. “Do you think you could…uh…get his attention?”

Rose eyed her quizzically.

“You know,” said Emily, raising a saucy eyebrow and dropping her voice, “get his attention.”

“Flirt with him?” Rose seemed horrified at first, then a slow smile spread across her face. Emily could see the doubts fade then reassert themselves. “I don’t think I know how. I mean, I know how to flirt, but this would have to be…good.”

Emily nodded, her mind racing. How could she help her friend? Then she remembered. “Rose,” she whispered, leaning toward her friend. “When I was in town with Christian, I saw a book in the store. It was called
Passion
something-or-other.”

“That would have been great,” Rose whispered, then covered her mouth.

“The great part,” Emily went on, “is that Christian bought it. He went back after I was in the buggy so I wouldn’t know, but I saw him through the window. I know it was the same book because it had a bright red cover.”

The girls stared at each other. Rose shook her head. “Christian won’t let us read it.”

“Of course not,” hissed Emily. “That’s why we have to search his room.” Emily grabbed her friend’s hand.

“Right now?”

“Shhh!”

“What if
she
hears us?”

Emily stopped just outside the door. “Let’s see if she’s up here.” With Rose waiting behind her, Emily walked resolutely to Lynnette’s door and knocked loudly. She turned back and grinned at her friend. When there was no answer, she opened the door and stuck her head inside. “Lynnette?”

She closed the door again and waved Rose forward. “She isn’t here.”

Rose joined her outside Christian’s door. “What would you have done if she’d been here?”

Emily shrugged, walking calmly into Christian’s room. “Asked to borrow a ribbon or something. Close the door in case someone comes up.”

“What if Christian comes up?”

“Hmm,” she murmured, scanning the room for possible hiding places. “I’ll tell him…” She started through the dresser.

Rose went to the desk and tentatively opened a drawer. “You have no idea what you’ll tell him, do you?” she whispered.

“I’ll think of something if he comes, which isn’t likely. Let’s see. Where would…?” Her eyes lit on the small stand beside the bed. A red-covered book
lay casually on top. Emily ran to snatch it up. “Here it is!”

Rose looked up from her search. “He left it out? Won’t he miss it if we take it?”

Emily froze. “Maybe.” Her indecision lasted only a moment. “We’ll just have to return it before tonight.” She grabbed Rose’s hand and ran out of the room. Safely back in her own room, she leaned against the door and gasped for breath.

Rose tumbled onto the bed. “I can’t believe we did that.”

“I can’t believe it was so easy.” With one last sigh, she scurried toward the bed. “Move over.” Giggling, the girls settled in to read.

Lynnette slowly climbed the stairs to her room. She had been unnerved by another lunch with Christian. The girls had gotten trays and gone back to their room, and with just Christian and Hugh at the table, she had used the opportunity to ask them several questions about the ranch. She should be excited about working those details into what she had already written.

Instead she was restless. She had spent the morning on the bench in the yard, writing. She kept remembering how Christian had come and talked to her when she had written there before. After trying so hard to concentrate on her imaginary hero, lunch with the real thing filled her with longings she couldn’t identify. Or didn’t want to identify.

She mustn’t dwell on the fact that she was in love with Christian. Surely that would make it more difficult to pretend she wasn’t when he was around. If she
spent any more time alone, her hopeless love was bound to be all she thought about.

The sound of voices and laughter from Emily’s room caught her attention. The promise of a carefree afternoon beckoned. Her hand was poised to knock when Emily’s voice stopped her.