Heart of Winter (17 page)

“Isn't it late to be looking at horses?” she asked as they walked down the staircase.

He glanced down at her. “Why? Are you afraid to be alone with me after dark?” he asked.

She hated that arrogant look. “Of course not!”

“Then why ask the question?”

“I thought you might have better things to do.”

“I could do some bookwork, I guess.” He glanced at her. “Or watch the VCR—”

“I'd just
love
to see the colt!” she interrupted.

He chuckled softly. “I thought you would.”

He led her down the side hall and helped her into her coat and stocking cap. “It's still cold, although the snow has stopped.”

She couldn't imagine why he wanted her company, but she was touched beyond reason that he did. It felt so good to be with him, alone with him under the wide sky, crunching through the snow toward the barn.

“Did Dad look at the colt while he was here?” she asked.

“He sure did. He thinks I've got a young champion on my hands. He said that if I wanted him to, he'd train him for me.”

“That's not a rash offer,” she said. “He's good with horses, and he's never backed a loser yet.”

“So I hear.” He took her arm and turned her at the barn door. “Turning down three million dollars is crazy. You could accept the trust and still give a million to research.”

“I don't want to be rich,” she said simply. “I tried it, and I didn't like it. My values got fouled up. I like them the way they are.”

He sighed. “I can understand that. It just seems a waste. You could do a lot with that kind of money.”

“You can only wear so many diamonds at a time, and fur makes me sneeze,” she said with a straight face.

“You'll be working for the rest of your life, damn it. What if Gerald ever fires you? What will happen to you?”

The prospect really seemed to bother him. She searched his dark eyes, shadowed by the wide brim of his hat. “I might get married someday,” she said. “I like children. I'd like to have a family.”

He touched her arm lightly, smoothing her coat sleeve. “Yes. I'd like that, too, one day. Kids are nice.”

“How many do you plan to adopt?” she asked.

His eyebrows arched. “Adopt?”

“You said marriage wasn't in your vocabulary,” she reminded him. “So if you want children, you'll have to adopt them.”

He moved restlessly. “A wife would be an encumbrance.”

“So would children.”

“It's not the same thing.”

“It is.”

He glared at her. “I won't marry you, honey, if that's what you're hinting at.”

She glared back. “Who asked you? I don't want a walking icicle.”

“I'm anything but an icicle in bed,” he told her.

“Talk is cheap!”

“Not half as cheap as that statement,” he returned. He scowled down at her. “How in God's name did we get on this subject?”

“You said you wanted children—”

“Well, I don't. Not anymore.” He started walking again. He glared at the barn door as he opened it. “Women! They twist everything around to suit themselves.”

“So do men.”

He stood aside to let her enter the barn. “Marriage was invented by women to legalize sex.”

“Don't look at me,” she said airily. “I don't want to marry anyone. I'm just twenty-two. I have years and years of living to do before I tie myself to a man's housework.”

“Time passes quick. Before you know it you'll be my age.”

“God forbid,” she glared up at him. “I'm not ready for the Home.”

“Stop that,” he grumbled. “I'm not old.”

“Neither is the Statue of Liberty,” she said with a sweet smile. “Where's the colt?”

“Over there.”

She followed his irritated gesture and leaned over the gate, watching the little chestnut colt nuzzle at his mother's belly.

“Aw,” she cooed. “Isn't he cute?”

“I'm not old,” he repeated, still nettled by her offhand remark.

She looked up at him carelessly. “All right. You're not old. Isn't he cute?”

“Thirty-four is a man's prime.”

“If you say so.”

“It is, damn it!”

“Was I arguing?” she asked innocently.

He pushed back his hat with an irritable sigh. “Gerald says you and he are going back Monday to get the office shipshape so he and Sadie can get married Friday and have an extended honeymoon.”

“That's nice,” she said absently. She hadn't known, but it was good to have it out in the open. Two more days to be with Winthrop. It would be heaven and hell.

“You won't lose your pay. He's going to let you handle his office while he's gone.”

“That's nice, too.”

“Don't you know any other words?” He glowered down at her. “Look here, Nicole, we won't see each other again.”

“Yes, I know.” She looked up at him quietly. “That should please you. It must be hell, having a lovesick woman making calves' eyes at you all the time.”

He shifted restlessly. “I've gotten used to having you around,” he said reluctantly, but he wouldn't look at her.

Like an old shoe, she thought miserably. She watched the colt in silence for a few moments, then said, “I imagine you'll get used to not having me around just as easily.”

“I guess so.”

She peeked up at him. His face was hard and cold, but his eyes were glittering faintly as he looked down at her.

“I'll always limp,” he said unexpectedly. “Gerald says I can work the kinks out, but the doctors don't agree. There's always going to be a degree of impairment.”

“That's too bad,” she said.

“Is that all you can say?” he growled.

Her eyebrows arched. “What would you like? Shall I sit down on the ground and start crying?”

“I'm a cripple!”

“Sure.” She stared back at the colt. “You and the Marine Corps.”

“Nicky…”

“If you want to limp, go ahead. I don't care.”

“You aren't listening.”

“Of course I'm listening. You're telling me what a bad risk you are, and I'm agreeing with you. You've been right all along, Winthrop. I need a younger man who doesn't limp, who wants marriage and children. You're absolutely right, so now I'm going to go back to Chicago to find one.” She looked at the growing anger in his hard face. “That should satisfy you.”

“Would you like to know what would satisfy me right now?” he asked under his breath.

“Not really. I'm tired and I'd like to go to bed.”

“At last, we agree on something.” He moved toward her.

“Oh, no, you don't. I'm saving myself for my future husband.”

“Thank you.”

“It won't be you,” she told him doggedly. “I'm not crazy enough to think that. You aren't a marrying man, remember? You don't want commitment.”

“I don't know what I want anymore,” he muttered.

“Well, I do,” she said. “I want to go home.”

“To a lonely apartment in Chicago?”

“It won't be lonely long,” she assured him. “I'm going to start my very own lonely hearts chapter.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Nobody would want to meet over your old dead body.”

“Nicky…”

She got as far as the barn door and opened it to freedom. “You only want my body,” she burst out. “And that's not enough!”

“Will you listen to me?!”

“No!”

She turned and ran for the house, easily outdistancing him. She passed Gerald and Sadie on the steps, shot up the staircase into her room and locked the door. So much for trying to reason with Winthrop. All he wanted to do was back her into a corner and seduce her. Well, he wasn't getting another chance to do that! She'd just avoid him until she could leave. Better to walk away with a broken heart than a broken spirit as well. She loved him, but she couldn't settle for a one-night stand. Not even with the only man she'd ever wanted.

She tossed and turned all night, thinking about the ironies of her life. Even if nothing else had come out of this trip, at least she'd made peace with her father. But she wished that Winthrop could have returned just a little of the feeling she had for him. Her heart was going to break in two when she walked out that door Monday morning. And Winthrop wouldn't even miss her. On that thought, she cried herself to sleep.

I
t was as if Nicky's impulsive action had brought a wall down between herself and Winthrop. He wasn't around the next morning when Gerald and Sadie and Nicky got into the Lincoln to go to church in Butte. He wasn't around when they got back, either, and Gerald remarked on it, because Winthrop almost always went to church.

The day wore on, and Nicky got her things packed since they were leaving early the next morning. The corporation jet was scheduled to pick them up about eight.

Gerald spent all his free time with Sadie, finalizing their wedding plans. A special plane was taking Mrs. Todd to Florida that afternoon, so that she could make the flight in luxurious comfort. Gerald had arranged everything, and Mrs. Todd was enthusing about her future son-in-law to anyone who had time to listen.

Since there was a chance that Winthrop might show up, Nicky stayed behind when Gerald and Sadie drove Mrs. Todd to the airport. But Winthrop was still missing.

“Gone hunting, he said,” Mary told her with a curious glance. “Funny thing, to see him hunt on Sunday when he curses if others do same.”

“He's avoiding me,” Nicky murmured.

“Thought as much. What did you do?”

“He was telling me all the reasons I ought not to get involved with him and I agreed, that's all,” Nicky sighed.

Mary grinned from ear to ear. “Just like man, to state truth and then get mad when others agree.”

“I suppose he'll never speak to me again.” Nicky was remembering their talk. Perhaps he'd been trying to say something and she hadn't given him the chance. Either way, she'd never know now. She was going home and he wouldn't follow. Most likely, he'd be glad to be rid of her.

“Winthrop is deep,” Mary said unexpectedly. “Hard man to predict.” She glanced at Nicky. “But be sure that he thinks before he acts. Weighs the odds. He is surefooted.”

“I used to think I was, too,” Nicky said. “But I'm not anymore.”

“Give it time.”

“Now that,” she replied, “I have plenty of. What's for supper?”

“Something different,” Mary told her secretively. “Old family recipe. You'll like it.”

“But what is it?”

Mary leaned forward. “Moussaka.”

“You're putting me on,” Nicky laughed.

“Had Greek uncle. Taught me to make it, eggplant and all. Nice change of pace.”

“I'll bet!”

“Here.” She handed over the utensils. “Set the table. No doubt Gerald and Sadie will be late. They have much to discuss.”

“They'll make a happy couple.”

“Yes.”

Since there was no more reply than that, Nicky went about her business and began to set the table in the dining room. And all the while she wondered where Winthrop had gone and why he hadn't come home. She had so little time left here. It was going to be agonizing to go off and leave him, and here he was wasting precious minutes they might have spent together. But why should he care, she reminded herself. He didn't trust her. He might want her, but he didn't love her. He'd said himself that love was an illusion. Besides that, he didn't ever want to marry. So why bother about him?

She finished the place settings and put napkins all around. At least her nice boss was going to come out ahead, she thought. Gerald would marry Sadie and have a perfectly wonderful life while Nicky grew old taking dictation. It didn't bear thinking about.

Maybe she could do what she'd threatened Winthrop with—get married and have children. Sure. Nothing easier. First, she had to find a man. And who could measure up to old stone face?

Even as she was asking herself the question, the kitchen door opened suddenly and Winthrop came in with something furry by the tail.

Mary stared, but Nicky went forward. “Oh,” she exclaimed. “A wounded squirrel! Wait, I'll rush and get a bandage!”

“Oh, for God's sake,” Winthrop ground out. He slid the squirrel onto the sink for Mary to deal with and glared at Nicky as he eased out of his sheepskin jacket and hat, dumping them untidily on the floor.

“There ought to be a law against shooting unarmed squirrels,” Nicky muttered for something to say.

Winthrop went to the sink to wash his hands, ignoring her.

“Nice squirrel,” Mary defended him. “Plump. Make good stew.”

“I'll bet he was somebody's daddy,” Nicky murmured.

“You're breaking my heart,” Winthrop said nonchalantly. He dried his hands on a towel and looked straight at her. “Where's Gerald?”

Her heart was beating double time, but she wasn't about to let him know it. “He and Sadie drove Mrs. Todd to the airport. She left for Florida today.”

“I know. I said goodbye before I went out. What's for dinner?” he asked Mary.

“Moussaka.”

“That stuff with eggplant?” He made a face. “Whatever happened to beef and potatoes?”

“Need change of pace.”

“No, I don't,” he argued. “I like having the same thing every day. It gives me a sense of security.”

“Then why go out and kill an innocent squirrel when you really wanted a steak?” Nicky asked.

“He wasn't innocent,” he replied. “I have it on good authority that he was a rounder with unspeakable taste in women squirrels.”

“Well, in that case, let's all eat him,” Nicky agreed.

Winthrop actually grinned at her. She had to spoil it all by blushing.

“Sit down. I will bring the dishes,” Mary told them.

Winthrop motioned for Nicky to go ahead, and even pulled out her chair for her.

“I'm impressing you with my manners,” he informed her.

“Are you really?” She smiled vacantly. “When do you begin?”

“Watch it, Kentucky girl.” He sat back in his chair and studied her intently while Mary brought in the main course, followed by rolls, vegetables and fruit.

“We leave tomorrow,” she said when they all three were seated and enjoying Mary's exotic dish.

“Yes.” He didn't seem disturbed. But when he finished his meal, he lit a cigarette. That was the first time Nicky remembered seeing him with one since her early days at the ranch.

“Bad smell,” Mary scowled at him. “Why you do that? Thought you quit.”

“I quit several times a month,” he reminded her. “I'll start quitting again tomorrow.”

Mary shrugged as she got up to fetch the coffee pot for refills. “Your lungs, not mine.”

“Thank you so much,” he said with a mocking smile.

Mary hit him on her way to the kitchen.

“You sure are cheerful tonight,” Nicky remarked. “It wouldn't be because I'm getting out of your hair tomorrow?”

“The thought did cross my mind.”

“I'll bet it did.”

She sipped her coffee and he stared at her for so long that her heart began to run wild and her breathing became quick and labored. She gripped the cup tighter so that he wouldn't see how badly her hands were trembling.

“You aren't limping,” she said suddenly, shocking herself with the flat statement. But he hadn't been. He'd been walking straight and steady.

“I've been practicing,” he replied easily. He tapped the ashes into an ashtray. “Nice of you to notice.”

“Are you going to cut Mary off by auditioning for the Rockettes yourself?” she asked demurely.

“I'd never pass muster,” he replied. “My legs are too hairy.”

“Ah, well, another career shot to hell by lack of a straight razor.”

“Cute.” He chuckled softly.

“Thank you, my mother always said I was.”

“How did she die?” he asked unexpectedly, and stared at her until she was forced to answer.

“She fell into the swimming pool and drowned during a party,” Nicky told him, and the dark memory was reflected in her eyes. “Nobody even noticed, can you imagine? She fell in front of two dozen people and drowned right there. And nobody noticed.”

Something in her expression caught his eye. “And where were you when it happened?”

Her face drew in. “Haven't you guessed?” she asked in a faint whisper and forced a smile. “I was one of the two dozen people who didn't notice….”

He got up without haste, crushing out the cigarette in the ashtray and pulled her up into his arms. “Stupid,” he accused, drawing her close to him. “Holding it in like that, never telling anyone.”

“I didn't see her,” she wept. “Winthrop, I didn't see her. I was dancing with Chase and I never even looked. Not until someone screamed….”

“Your father?”

“He wasn't around. I guess we both had our share of guilt over it, wondering if we could have saved her if we hadn't been so caught up in the glitter.” Her hand came up to wipe away a tear. “She was so unhappy. And so alone.”

“We're all alone,” he replied quietly. “Some more than others.”

She looked up at him, searching his dark eyes. “Do you remember your mother?”

He smiled. “Very well. She and my father were deeply in love. It never faded, all the long years.” He touched her face lightly. “I was looking for something similar. I found Deanne instead.”

“All women are not like Deanne,” she said doggedly.

His thumb rubbed lazily across her lips. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Cynic,” she burst out, exasperated. “You're scared to death to find out.”

His eyebrows arched. “I like not having my heart used for target practice. Which reminds me—your father said you were something of a markswoman.”

“I used to be,” she corrected. His thumb caressing her mouth was disturbing. “I used to ride, too. But I'm out of practice.”

“You might come back with Gerald for the wedding,” he said abruptly. “I could give you a refresher course.”

Her heartbeat increased. But even as she heard him say the words, she knew that the minute she left the ranch, he'd forget her. She'd be out of his thoughts. His offer was just a sugar pill—something to keep her happy until she left. He didn't mean it.

“That would be nice,” she said, without any real conviction.

“Nicky…”

Whatever he was about to say was lost, because Mary came back in with the coffee pot and didn't lift an eyebrow at the two of them practically standing in each other's arms.

“More coffee?” she offered, and the spell was broken.

Winthrop watched Nicole for the rest of the meal, and then Gerald and Sadie came back, and the conversation centered on the wedding. Bedtime came and there wasn't a single opportunity for any more discussion. Nicky went to bed halfheartedly, more disappointed than she could ever remember being. She loved Winthrop, but he was making it patently obvious that he didn't return that feeling. But, then, what had she expected?

The next morning, before she had time to plan what she was going to say, she and Gerald were in the Jeep with Mike and being driven to the airport. Winthrop was long gone, apparently out hunting again. Nicky didn't even get to say goodbye to him before she flew back toward Chicago.