The Gentling (16 page)

To Katy's amazement, the honeymoon she had dreaded turned into the most thoroughly enjoyable two weeks she had ever known. Each day in the Pacific paradise brought a wonderful new experience, and somehow, Trace's stimulating, yet undemanding companionship seemed to increase her pleasure.

When they weren't sailing or snorkeling or just lazing on the beach, they went shopping or sightseeing. One morning they took the tour boat out to the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor, and from there visited the Punchbowl, the huge crater known as the Cemetery of the Pacific. Both came away from the sobering sights deeply affected. To shake off the somber mood, Trace took Katy to a charming, open-air restaurant on the beach, where they ate lunch amid the throbbing pagan beat of Polynesian music. Afterward they spent a leisurely afternoon wandering through the Bishop Museum.

Though at first put off by the rather forbidding appearance of the Victorian stone building's armory-like exterior, Katy was soon delighted as she viewed the amazing collection of treasures housed inside, especially the huge whale hanging from the ceiling in Hawaiian Hall.

There were artifacts of tortoiseshell, whalebone, and beautifully carved wood in striking contrast to the ornate thrones of the Hawaiian monarchy. But most impressive of all to Katy were the priceless red and yellow feather cloaks and capes once worn by Hawaiian chiefs.

"Oh, Trace. Aren't they gorgeous," she breathed ecstatically, when they stopped in front of the first display. "Just look at those colors. They haven't faded a bit, even after all these years."

"Very impressive," Trace agreed. "But then, they ought to be. Those things were handmade from feathers of exotic birds which are now extinct. And since each bird produced only one feather that was considered brilliant enough for a chiefs garment, it took years just to complete one robe." "How do you know that?"

"Oh, I read it somewhere," he said with an air of off-handed superiority. Then his eyes twinkled. "I think it was in one of those brochures the hotel provides."

"Oh, you!" Katy gave him a sharp poke in the ribs. "And there I was, all set to be impressed with your vast store of knowledge."

Laughing, Trace flung his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the next display.

The casual embrace was something he did often. No matter where they were or what they were doing, he always managed to touch her in some way. If his arm wasn't draped across her shoulders or hooked around her waist, his hand was tunneled under the heavy fall of ebony hair and curved around her nape, his fingers absently massaging the tight muscles.

At first the constant contact made Katy nervous, but after a few days she became resigned to it. By the end of the first week, the feel of his arm around her seemed the most natural thing in the world.

They spent several days driving around the island, exploring remote beaches, visiting extinct volcanoes, orchid nurseries, and pineapple and sugar plantations. On one of their trips they stopped to picnic at Makaha, better known as Surfer's Paradise, and watched in awe as muscled young men on surfboards rode the forty-foot waves in to shore.

Every evening they ate at a different restaurant in order to sample the wide variety of ethnic cuisine the islands offered. After dinner they either enjoyed Honolulu's fantastic nightlife or went for long walks on the beach. Rarely did they return to their suite before midnight. But no matter how late the hour, each night when they relaxed in the king-sized bed, Trace gathered Katy into his arms and made gentle, persuasive love to her.

Knowing that she had only to give the slightest sign of resistance and Trace would stop, Katy did not panic when his caresses gradually became more and more intimate. By the end of their stay, though she still had no intention of allowing him to consummate the marriage, Katy could no longer deny that she enjoyed Trace's lovemaking.

On the morning of their departure, while Trace had gone down to the lobby to settle their bill, Katy gathered up their last minute articles and added them to the cases she had packed the night before. She took one last look around the suite for anything she may have missed, then closed the cases and snapped the locks shut.

Restless, with nothing more to keep her occupied, she slid open the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. Her eyes were sad as she leaned against the railing and gazed down at the beach. At this early hour there were only a few heads bobbing in the blue water.

Katy sighed. How she hated to leave. Their stay had been ideal—a period out of time when the problems facing them seemed far removed. As she thought back over the last two weeks, a small, self-derisive smile tugged at her mouth. Well, it had been ideal from her point of view at any rate. She doubted that Trace would describe their rather unorthodox honeymoon in quite the same way.

But in any case, it was over now and reality was about to intrude. Katy had the uneasy feeling that it was going to be much more difficult to keep her husband at arm's length once they returned to the farm.

The soft swish of the sliding door alerted her to Trace's presence, and Katy cast a quick glance over her shoulder. A wan smile of greeting flickered over her face before her gaze returned to the horizon.

"Feeling sad about leaving?" Trace asked perceptively. Stepping up behind her, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him, resting his chin on the top of her head.

The blue of sky and ocean merged into a wavy blur as her eyes suddenly welled with tears. "I guess so," she replied in a wavering voice. Katy swallowed hard on the lump that rose in her throat. Good Lord! Why was she behaving so emotionally? Anyone would think she was a starry-eyed bride who couldn't bear for her honeymoon to end!

A low rumble of laughter vibrated against her back. "Well, as much as I'd love to just stay here and enjoy the lotus-eating life with you, I'm afraid I have a horse farm to run." Trace bent his head and pressed a feathery kiss against her temple. "But don't worry, sweetheart, we'll come back someday. In fact, I'll make you a promise right now that we'll return on our twenty-fifth anniversary for a second honeymoon."

Katy turned within the circle of his arms and gave him a troubled look. "Oh, Trace. Do you honestly believe—"

A sharp rap on the door cut her off and drew an impatient look from Trace.

"That'll be the bellhop."

Katy stared after him as he stepped back into the sitting room, her expression thoughtful. What were the chances of a platonic marriage surviving twenty-five years? Practically nil, she admitted to herself sadly. Especially when the husband was a passionate and virile man like Trace.

Refusing to dwell on the tight knot of pain that twisted her stomach, Katy glanced at the ocean one last time, then resolutely stepped inside.

❧

Her father was waiting for them at the Tyler airport when they arrived that evening. The despondent mood that had clung to her all day disappeared like a wisp of smoke at the first sight of his craggy face. When he grinned and opened his arms wide, Katy flung herself into them.

"Oh, Dad, I'm so glad to see you!" she cried as he lifted her off the floor.

"And it's glad I am to be seein' you, Katy darlin'," Tom replied huskily. For a moment he hugged her tightly against his chest, as though he could not bear to let her go, the big hand spread across her back patting her with rough tenderness. When he finally put her on her feet, he held her at arm's length. Tom's face beamed as he noted the healthy, sun-kissed skin and the happy sparkle in her blue eyes. "Well now. I'm thinkin' marriage agrees with you, Katy girl. You're more beautiful than ever."

His gaze went beyond her to the man who stood waiting. The look on Tom's face spoke of admiration, respect, and fondness, but most of all, of a deep, profound gratitude. Releasing Katy, he stepped forward and held out his hand. "Welcome home, Trace," he said warmly.

"Thanks, Tom. It's good to be back."

All the way to the baggage claim section the two men talked business. Katy walked along between them, smiling contentedly. Her spirits seemed to rise a little with each step. Suddenly it felt very good to be home.

When Trace left them to claim the luggage, Tom turned to his daughter with a questioning look. "Well, now. Tell me, Katy girl, was I right to trust that young man?"

A faint twinge of pink swept over Katy's face. Her father had never once doubted Trace's integrity. "Yes, Dad. You were right. Trace is a man of his word, just as you claimed all along. I'm sorry I ever doubted you or him."

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart. You had a perfect right to be apprehensive. The important thing is you're learning to trust him. That's absolutely essential if you're going to have a good marriage." Tom smiled gently and patted her arm. "Give him a chance, Katy girl. He loves you very much. He'll make you happy, if you'll let him."

Katy's answering smile was wan. What did that mean? Did he want her to accept Trace as a husband, in the fullest sense of the word? Even knowing what he did?

He was watching her intently, as though waiting for her reply, but Katy didn't know what to say. Her feelings for Trace had altered during the past two weeks. But not that much.

Glancing over her father's shoulder, she was relieved to see that Trace had recovered their luggage and was striding toward them. He had a bag in each hand and two more under his arms. His powerful body showed no sign of being burdened by the load, but Tom quickly relieved him of two of the cases.

"I'm parked right outside," he said, nodding his head toward the exit doors. "We'll just load these into the trunk and be on our way. I'll have you home in two shakes."

"Good," Trace replied, smiling warmly at Katy. "I'm anxious to get home and carry my bride over the threshold."

Surprise widened Katy's eyes for just an instant. For a brief time she had forgotten that she would now be living in the big house. In the weeks prior to the wedding the problem of where they would live had seemed very minor, compared to all the other things that had been worrying her. Now it seemed to loom very large. The thought of living in the huge, pillared mansion filled her with apprehension. Katy wasn't at all sure she was capable of taking Saundra's place as mistress of Green Meadows. Or that she even wanted to.

Tom was already walking toward the door and Trace moved to follow him. Two steps away he stopped and turned back to Katy, a questioning look on his face. "Coming, sweetheart?"

After the briefest of hesitations, Katy nodded and picked up the two tote bags full of souvenirs which sat at her feet. With one in each hand and a stiff smile on her face, she took the few steps that brought her level with her husband. Side by side, they walked across the crowded lobby and stepped out into the warm Texas night.