City Girl (5 page)

He nodded briefly and stood up. Without so much as a cordial good-bye, he headed straight for the door, hat in hand.

"I'll pick you up at your house in the morning. I already know the address. Six o'clock. Be ready." And suddenly she was alone in Mr. Groman's opulent office, her eyes still glued to the door, her mouth hanging open.

"Oh, by the way…" The door swung open again, and he poked his head through. "You can shuck those high heels and skinny skirts. Wear a pair of pants." And with that he was gone.

It did not dawn on Crystal until she saw the rented cap and gown hanging in her closet that she would have to forgo the graduation ceremonies. The knowledge made her both angry and regretful, but she supposed there was nothing to be done about it. She tried to tell herself that the ceremony was a mere formality and that it would not really mean anything anyway since Aunt Judith would not be there with her. But she could not help hating Garrett Dean a little for making her miss it.

If there was one bit of common decency in the man, he would have consulted her before making travel arrangements. But then, it was partly her own fault. She had let the man steamroll her. She should have stood up for herself, insisted that her departure be delayed for a couple of days. She could leave as easily on Saturday as on Thursday, or so she supposed. She did not even really know where she was going or how she was going to get there.

Another thought occurred to her then, and she decided to leave well enough alone. Jerry would be there, accompanied by his blushing new bride, no doubt. That was one meeting she could do without; so it was probably just as well. But she did not intend for one minute to let the matter go unmentioned. She would make Mr. Garrett Dean painfully aware of what he had cost her.

The afternoon went by in a flurry of activity. She was on the phone twice with Mr. Groman, arranging the settlement of her aunt's affairs and the dispersal of everything but her personal belongings.

The cap and gown went back into the box and were returned to the rental company via paid messenger, an expense she could hardly afford. She called the utility companies and arranged to have everything turned off the next day, giving them Mr. Groman's name in case they needed to get in touch with her. Then she went across the street and said good-bye to old Mrs. Hadley. She was the only resident of the neighborhood whom Crystal still knew. The others came and went with alarming frequency, since most of the houses on this street had been bought up by rental agencies.

Mrs. Hadley was sorry to see Crystal go, but not surprised. It was only to be expected.

"Found yourself a nice new apartment, have you?" she asked chattily.

"No, nothing like that," Crystal informed. "I'm leaving town, Mrs. Hadley. Going to tutor some Mexican children on a ranch in central Texas." She did not bother to say that she was not even sure where in central Texas that ranch was located.

"Oh." Mrs. Hadley's monosyllabic reply indicated that she had read between the lines. She seemed to perfectly understand that Crystal had broken off her engagement. Thoughtful as always, she made no mention of that fact. Nor did she ask any prying questions, and Crystal was so grateful that she gave the old lady a warm parting hug, just as she used to do as a small child.

Again that wave of nostalgia swept over her. Times long past when she used to come here and gobble Mrs. Hadley's raisin cookies sprang to mind. They were great chums in those days, having their gay little tea parties on Mrs. Hadley's front porch. Crystal realized with a pang how much she would miss the old dear.

As if aware of the feelings Crystal was experiencing at the moment, Mrs. Hadley put on a perky smile. "Now, you be sure and keep in touch, young lady," she admonished sweetly, and Crystal promised that she would.

Thankfully, time was short, and Crystal was far too busy to dwell upon what she was leaving behind. She packed furiously for hours, trying to consolidate her personal belongings into as tight a bundle as possible. She had no idea how much room would be provided for her things. She did not even know what sort of transportation Dean had arranged, and anger fired up inside of her again.

The man was impossible. That much was obvious. And she had not been terribly responsible about any of this. She should have insisted that he stay behind today and discuss the details with her. Instead, she had let him walk out after issuing his little six-o'clock-a.m. edict. Six o'clock! How would she ever be ready by then?

Once again she got busy separating, folding, packing. Because she did not know how many suitcases she would be allowed, she had to be prepared to leave some things behind. That called for careful planning, but finally she was finished.

Exhausted, she padded to the kitchen and prepared herself a hodgepodge dinner designed to use up what foodstuffs were left. Everything else she threw away. There was not enough of anything to bother giving away.

Before retiring to her bedroom for the last time, she sat down at the writing desk and penned a few short notes to her closest friends, mostly college chums. The sealed envelopes she stamped, addressed, and pinned to the mailbox with a clothespin.

Only the most essential items remained unpacked, all things she would need to get dressed in the morning. Remembering Dean's instructions to wear slacks, she laid out a navy-blue polyester pantsuit and a white blouse with a lace-edged round collar. Since most of her shoes had high heels, she chose a pair of white platforms with ankle straps. Her hair she would wear in a knot at the back of her neck.

For the last time she performed her bedtime ritual in the single bathroom of the house, cleared out the medicine cabinet, and turned out the light. The house was dark, but her feet knew its hallways and rooms well. She traveled unimpeded to the bedroom where she had spent so many nights and flicked on the small lamp beside her bed.

It cast its golden hue over the mint-green walls and the white bedspread. With a heavy heart Crystal turned back the bedclothes and sat down on the bed, pulling her feet up and folding them Indian fashion. A small round hatbox sat in the middle of the bed, and Crystal reached for it.

Here were all of the things of the past she had left to her now. A few select, carefully chosen items that had belonged to Aunt Judith and her parents were all she permitted herself: a very old tortoiseshell comb inlaid with pearls from Aunt Judith's girlhood, a few snapshots of the two of them together at various stages of their lives, a bundle of birthday and Christmas cards which they had exchanged, a string of cultured pearls given to Judith by her mother and now passed to Crystal.

To these things Crystal added keepsakes left her by her mother and father: her dad's high-school class ring, a picture of her mother as a dark-haired beauty in a prom dress, a copy of their marriage license, her own birth certificate, a ribbon-tied bundle of love letters they had exchanged when her father was away in the army. Her past—all tied up in ribbons and stored away in an old hatbox. She wanted to cry. Instead she wound the alarm clock beside her bed and set it for five a.m., slid between the covers, and turned out the light.

Just as everything had done in her life recently, tomorrow came quickly. Crystal woke on Thursday morning to the blare of the alarm clock. She slapped out at it with a heavy, sleep-laden arm. Then she remembered. Her eyes flew open, and she clambered stiffly out of the warm bed onto the floor.

Too late she remembered there was not any coffee in the house, and cursed her luck. But before long her groggy brain had limbered up, and she was in motion.

Much to her surprise and regret, she was ready a half-hour before Dean's appointed arrival time. The last thing she needed or wanted was time to reflect upon her leaving. It would not do to be reduced to a state of tears when he arrived, so she put herself to work stripping and folding the bed linens.

She hated to think of strangers coming in here and carting off her aunt's possessions. It seemed so callous. But Mr. Groman had promised to oversee the whole affair, and she felt better just knowing he would be here when all of these things were moved out. She wished he were here now. It would help to have someone to wish her well and send her off with a reassuring smile.

Aunt Judith's houseplants stood on their windowsill, and Crystal thought at once that they might die before anyone would be here to take care of them. It seemed a shame to let plants so lovingly tended by her aunt's hands wither and dry up. She gathered them into a pasteboard box and carried them across the street to Mrs. Hadley's house, where she left them without waking the elderly neighbor.

It seemed to Crystal that there was no end to the saying of good-byes to her home, and it was with a sense of relief as well as one of surprise that she watched the long, low silver-and-blue El Camino pull up in front of her house and stop. The vehicle Garrett Dean drove did not surprise her as much as the trailer it towed. She had seen one or two of the specially designed trailers before and believed they were intended for hauling horses, but she could tell from the deep, oddly out-of-place lowing coming from inside that it carried cattle. She started back across the street, watching Garrett Dean unfold his long, lanky frame and stand up beside his vehicle.

"Good morning!" she called out, and waved when he turned in her direction.

He wore jeans and a white shirt with pearly snaps closing its front snugly across his muscular chest. His blond head glittered in the sunlight just beginning to warm the newborn day.

"Morning." His deep, throaty voice sent tiny shock waves through Crystal. Why was it that its special resonance always seemed to surprise her? "Glad to see you dressed and ready to go."

"You said six o'clock."

"Yes, ma'am." He pulled a pocket watch from his breast pocket and glanced at it. "Six o'clock, right on the button."

"Well, we're a pair of punctual birds, aren't we?" Crystal quipped, and was relieved to see a slow smile reveal the laugh lines etched into his rugged face.

The early-morning light softened the rocky contours of his face a bit, and Crystal was struck by its handsomeness. The effect of those blue eyes was mesmerizing. They seemed to melt through any facade and see right into her.

"I see we have traveling companions," she commented brightly, feeling more at ease when the blue eyes left her and moved to the covered trailer.

"Pair of bulls," he told her. "Never did get that prize stud from Mexico." His lips quivered in amusement. "Funny, isn't it? Sent my man off to Mexico for a bull. Got a female, five skinny kids, and a teacher out of the deal, but no bull. If I hadn't come to Fort Worth to the stock market, and then to Dallas on other business, we never would have hooked up, would we?"

"Probably not." Crystal laughed at the irony of it, but she did not like being separated from the label "female." Was that all she was to him, a teacher, an impersonal acquisition, another hired hand, an ungendered being? Suddenly she realized she was being ridiculous. It was archaic and chauvinistic to label people according to gender. She
was
a teacher. Why should it bother her that he seemed not to notice she was also female? She should be happy that it was so. After all, she thought only of him as her employer—a terribly handsome, totally masculine, virile ranch owner.

What was the matter with her? Hadn't she learned her lesson with Jerry? It was true, as Aunt Judith had so often felt, that men were interested in only one thing, and because of it, she had absolutely no use for them in a personal sense. She would not let herself be fooled into thinking that there was really any such thing as romance or true love. Those were fairy tales which men manipulated to achieve their own ends.

"Time's wasting, ma'am." Garrett's deep voice shocked her out of her reverie with a little jump followed by goose bumps shivering up and down her arms.

She nodded quickly. "If you could help me get my things…" she began, but he was already striding toward the front walk, and she was left talking to thin air.

Crystal hurried up the walk behind him, chagrined by the seemingly familiar way he let himself into her house. He was already stooping beside her luggage— two trunks and an assortment of bulging soft vinyl suitcases in the middle of the living-room floor—when she entered the house.

"This all?" he asked, wiggling his hand through the end strap of one of the trunks.

"Yes, but be careful. That one is awfully heavy. It's filled with books."

Even as she spoke, he went down on his haunches, gave a quick yank, twisted and stood at the same time, swinging the heavy trunk easily onto his shoulder.

"I think I can manage." He grinned. Flexing his knees, he reached down with his free hand and scooped up three of the vinyl bags by their handles. He straightened with his load, using his powerful legs for leverage. "I'll come back for the others."

Crystal watched as he carried his burden swiftly and easily outside, impressed by this display of sheer physical strength.

He lowered the luggage smoothly to the sidewalk and began to stow it in the back of the El Camino. Seconds later he strode up the sidewalk and retrieved the remaining trunk and bags. They wafted along beside him down the front walk like so much fluff blown along by the wind. He stowed them in beside the others, then walked around to the back of the trailer and checked the cattle mooing noisily inside.

Crystal stood in the door watching, barely able to believe that it was time to go. He went around and folded himself into the cab behind the wheel, waiting for her to join him.

Something was wrong. Something was not quite as it ought to have been, but Crystal could not put her finger on it for a moment. She turned back into the house and retrieved her purse. Almost as an afterthought, she glanced swiftly around. This was good-bye, final and heart-wrenching—only it wasn't!

That was it. That was what felt so odd. She was sad to go, yes, but it was not as difficult as she had imagined it to be. It was not the heartbreaking, immobilizing experience she had assumed it should be. Crystal turned the switch on the door lock, knowing that once that door was closed behind her, she would never be able to open it again. Her hand pulled the door toward the casement, then halted with only inches to spare. She glanced over her shoulder.