Texas rich (51 page)

"Only that I need you. So much," she told him truthfully. "I need to be loved, to be wanted."

"That's what I have to give you, Billie. Love. I want to make you feel my love."

Their clothes fell from their bodies like the petals of summer's first rose. His body felt strange and unfamiliar against her own. The stubble of beard on his chin was softer than Moss's. His touch was searching, tender. Moss's was sure and possessive, out of long years of charting her body and knowing it as well as he knew his own. Billie felt herself inwardly backing away from the intimacy Jordan offered. The very thing she so desperately wanted, this close loving affection, seemed unattainable and out of her reach. Memories intruded of that other man she had loved more than she loved herself. Moss.

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Jordan's lips traced lazy patterns along the sweep of her shoulders and down to her breasts. His effect on her was hypnotic, sensuous, and Billie willed herself to surrender to the moment and the man. She accepted his nearness, his touch, his kiss on the most intimate parts of herself. She accepted these things the way she would have taken food or warmth or air to breathe, because she needed them. And she did need them, to reaffirm herself as a woman.

Billie lay quietly in Jordan's arms, listening to the beat of his heart and to the lovely words he spoke. She was beautiful, desirable, loving, and warm. She was a beautiful lover. And yet it was Jordan himself who was all these things. They'd shared the most intimate act possible between two people. He'd brought her body to life beneath his hands and his lips. But it was her soul that was dying and however he tried he could not touch it.

Her body was satisfied, her ego fed, and yet misery lived in her core. There was no future with Jordan and she knew it. She had taken all he could give and she'd given nothing in return. With Moss, her greatest ecstasy had been losing herself in him, giving totally of herself and knowing that the offering was pleasing to the man she loved. She didn't love Jordan. She had nothing to give and taking.wasn't enough.

"Will you come back to me, Billie?" Jordan whispered against her ear. "Was it good for you? As good as it was for me?"

"It was good," Billie murmured, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling his jaw. "I'll come back."

Billie could never make up her mind about Sunday dinner at Sunbridge. With Agnes at the helm it resembled a Cecil B. DeMille production with Mickey Mouse overtones. The array of crystal, china, and silver was blinding. The maids were attired in bright pink uniforms with frilly white aprons and little starched caps. The children were always in attendance on Sunday night and then, after the large heavy meal, were driven by the chauffeur back to their respective schools. While the setting and the accoutrements were Hollywood style, the dinner participants and their moods were strictly Coleman. Seth ate like a ranch hand, talking with his mouth full, mostly about the ranch. Agnes did her best to look regal from her position at the foot of the table. She ate daintily, taking small bites of food and chewing each mouthful thirteen times. Moss and Riley jabbered and babbled nonstop. Maggie and Susan were quiet,

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depending on Billie to keep up their end of the conversation concerning school and their various activities.

Billie always took two aspirins at the end of the meal.

Something was off center this evening. Maggie was answering when she was spoken to but otherwise there was a blank vagueness about her that alarmed Billie. Was the child sick? Or was she getting ready to pull what Seth referred to as one of her aunt's stunts?

"Maggie, do you feel all right?" All conversation at the table stopped as the family listened to see what kind of story Maggie would come up with this time.

"I feel fme, Mother. Why do you ask?"

"You look a little flushed to me. Let me take your temperature after dinner."

"I don't have a fever, Mother. I feel fine. It's warm in here."

"We'll take the temperature anyway. I can't send you to school tomorrow if there's a chance you're coming down with something. The whole class could get it."

"Why aren't you eating your dinner?" Moss queried.

Maggie's head shot up. It had been a very long time since her father had asked her a direct question. Billie's throat constricted at the naked adoration on her daughter's face. She started eating immediately. "I guess my mind was on school and a test tomorrow," Maggie said between mouthfuls of food.

"Don't stuff your mouth. You're old enough to eat properly. And don't ever talk with your mouth full."

Billie's eyes narrowed and her left hand clenched into a tightly balled fist in her lap.

"I can't eat any more. Mother, may I be excused?" Maggie's tears were close to the surface, and Billie didn't dare take a chance on the girl's erupting into one of her screaming outbursts.

"Of course. Come along. I want to take your temperature anyway." Billie laid her napkin on the table. The glance she shot Moss was stormy.

"There's nothing wrong with the girl," Seth growled.

Billie stopped in midstride and turned. "I'll be the judge of what is or isn't wrong with my daughter. Don't interfere between my daughter and me, now or ever."

"Billie!" Agnes was aghast. "Now that wretched child has spoiled another dinner. You really are going to have to do something."

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Billie's back stiffened. "The next time you feel compelled to blame someone for a spoiled dinner, try to blame the right person. My husband!" With a venomous look at Moss, Billie marched from the room with her head held high.

"That wife of yours is getting out of hand. Moss."

"That's enough, Pap. Billie's a mother. Mam was the same way." Agnes cringed inwardly at the accusing glance he directed at her.

Upstairs, BiUie Shook the thermometer. "You don't have a fever, but you don't look right, Maggie. You know your marks are good enough for you to take a day or so off. Maybe a bug is going around and we can nip it at the onset so you don't lose more time later. I really am worried, Maggie. Have you been sleeping?"

"Off and on. I have a lot on my mind. Mother... I..."

"Yes, Maggie? Whatever it is, do you want to talk about it?"

"Oh, never mind. Not tonight. Why don't you and I go shopping next weekend? I think I gained some weight. Too many late-night snacks with the girls after lights out."

The wan smile bothered Billie. "I'd like that, Maggie. Just the two of us. We'll go to all the big stores and get a whole new wardrobe. I think it's time you had some new clothes. You didn't want to go the last time, when I took Susan."

"I didn't need anything then. Why waste Pap's money? I told him he didn't have to give me such a generous allowance and that I was saving, but he didn't listen. I'm trying, Mam, but he—"

"Shhh, I know, honey. We're going to work it out. You let me worry about your father. If you feel all right, you'd better get your things together and get downstairs. I want you back at school before curfew."

Maggie picked up her weekend bag and a pile of books. "I'll see you on the weekend. I'm sorry about dinner. I never seem to. do or say the right thing. I don't know why. I think there must be a devil in me somewhere. Grandpap says there is, anyway."

Billie could feel her temper rising again. "He said that to you?"

"It doesn't matter. Pap says it, too. I'm just like Aunt Ame-Ha. Pap likes Aunt Amelia but he doesn't like me. You figure it out, Mam. I have to get going."

"If you don't feel well, call me. Promise, Maggie."

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"I promise," Maggie called over her shoulder.

Susan and Riley ran in, kissed Billie quickly, and then ran out and down the stairs. Their clattering made Billie smile, but then the front door slammed behind them. Sunbridge was like a tomb again.

Billie sat down with a thump on her velvet-covered slipper chair. She kicked off her high heels and propped her feet on a hassock. Out of habit she reached for tfie packet of letters on the round cherry wood table. Reading Thad Kingsley's letters always made her feel better. Someday she was going to tell him how much they meant to her. She knew them by heart, but she still searched for the letter she wanted. The naval stationery was as crisp as fresh celery.

I can only try to imagine the heartache you are suffering over Maggie. You have to try to be strong, my dear. She's still a little girl in so many ways. She's not quite a young lady and yet she's not a baby. She's caught in that in-between time. I have to side with you when you say money, and by that I mean having too much, is not Maggie's problem. We both know what her problem is and until you can get Moss to see the light, both of you are going to be miserable. There are times when Moss needs to be hit over the head. His stubbornness can be overwhelming. In that respect Maggie does take after him. I feel that the constant comparisons to Amelia do not help matters. You asked for my opinion; otherwise I wouldn't comment or foist my thoughts on you. I have every faith that you will manage to pull things together. You have strength you haven't tapped yet. Trust me when I tell you it's there and to draw from it.

I would love to come to Sunbridge for a visit, but I don't think it would be wise under the circumstances. Moss drew the line on that last visit and I would feel very uncomfortable. He feels I betrayed him by going with you to look for Maggie. Moss doesn't take betrayal well. Our friendship is in jeopardy, as I'm sure you know. I also know that that's the main reason for your invitation, but I'm afraid, dear Billie, that it will have to come from Moss.

I would like to invite you and the girls to Corpus Christi for a weekend anytime you're free. I have a

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wonderful housekeeper and cook, and plenty of room. I have a monstrous fireplace. It's a nice place to sit and pretend. Fireplaces with blazing logs, the funny papers, and a cup of grog are for families. Oops, I almost forgot the dog! I have this mutt that wandered by one day and never left. I call him Solomon because he was wise enough to know that if he didn't do his business outside, he couldn't stay. We get along fine. He greets me when I get home and lies by my side all evening. Put him in the picture when you visualize my fireplace.

It's almost time for Solomon's nightly walk, so I'll close for now. Take care, Billie, and remember, if there's anything you need, anything at all, call. I'll always be here for you.

Warm regards, Thad

Billie folded the letter and replaced it in the worn envelope. She must have read the letter three dozen times at the very least.

She was busily sketching in charcoal at her easel when Moss appeared in the doorway. Billie's eyes hardened. Let him see what she was doing. What did she care? She steeled herself for what he was going to say. He seemed ill at ease, which was strange for Moss. Always-in-control Moss. "Did you want something, Moss?"

"I can't seem to find—"

"Whatever it is, it isn't here. There's not one thing in this room that belongs to you. You saw to that. You^re blocking the light."

"Billie... goddamn it, I want to talk to you." Billie clenched her teeth so hard a shooting pain ran down the side of her neck and into her arm. "Why don't we make an appointment for later in the week—^I think I might be able to squeeze you in then."

"I won't be here later in the week. I have to go up north for a week or so. I think we should talk now."

Alice Forbes was in New York. Everyone at the club assumed that rehearsals for her new play were getting under way. Billie looked at the charcoal sketch. It had been giving her so much plesasure until Moss appeared. It was a sketch of Thad sitting in a deep armchair in front of his blazing fire with a

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sleeping Solomon at his side. She turned away and continued sketching, ignoring Moss completely.

"When I get back, we'll talk."

"If you happen to find yourself on Broadway, make sure you bring home a program for Susan. She saves them."

"I'll do that," Moss said harshly. "Good night, Billie." He waited in the hallway for a second to see if she would call out to him or run after him. She didn't. The pain he felt was like a knife slicing into his gizzard.

Billie continued sketching. This picture was therapy and it was giving her pleasure. It would bring a smile to Thad's face when he saw it.

It was midnight when Billie made the last touches on her drawing. The likeness of Thad was perfect. She hoped she had Solomon right. By two o'clock she had the drawing framed and packed in cardboard. Tomorrow, right after breakfast, she would put some of the Coleman money to good use. She would have the carton taken to the airport and put on the first flight to Corpus Christi. From there a private messenger service would deliver it personally to Thad at the naval air station.

For the first time in months, Billie slept soundly for the remainder of the night.

Ensign Calvin James accepted the package and signed for it. He marched smartly to the admiral's office and waited for clearance to enter. "Special delivery, sir."

"Anything special?" Thad asked curiously.

"It's from a Billie Coleman in Austin, Texas, sir."

"Don't stand there, James. Fetch it here."

He feh like a kid as he ripped at the cardboard carton and the heavy inner paper. When he drew out the framed charcoal drawing he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. But Ensign James was standing at attention.

"Sir, you have a meeting in five minutes."

"When I get back I want this picture hanging right there where I can see it." Thad pointed to a wall across from his desk. He would have direct eye contact with the picture anytime he sat at his desk. By God, who would have thought Billie would do such a wonderful thing? He was going to call her. The hell with what Moss thought. Such thoughtfulness deserved a personal thank-you.

"Aye-aye, sir. I'll see to it right away." Ten minutes later

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everyone on the admiral's staff was admiring Billie Coleman's handiwork. "It does look like the old man, doesn't it?" James asked the staff. "But when did the old man get a dog?"

"Who the hell is Billie Coleman?"