“What do you want? Can’t you say anything?” Nancy’s thin face showed bitter resentment.
“Hush, Nancy. I’ll handle this.” The rebuke was gentle, but failed to erase the belligerence from her stepdaughter’s face. “Jonathan isn’t here.” Katherine stood up, moved to the back of her chair, and gripped it with ringed fingers. “He’s out of town. He sent word yesterday that he won’t be back for a week.”
“How long have you been here?” Pride and anger were replacing sickness and betrayal.
“What do you mean, how long have we been here? We came as soon as Jonathan found a suitable apartment for us. In his position he needs social contacts, and Nancy and I are his family, in case you’ve forgotten.” Her thin mouth quivered.
“I can hardly forget that gruesome fact,” Kelly said drily, pleased that she could speak at all.
“Don’t be vulgar.” Kelly felt a small triumph at having upset Katherine’s composure even a little but it vanished when her sister-in-law spoke again. “Are you still trying to get a large settlement out of Jonathan?”
“And . . . if I am?”
“He’s prepared to be generous, although he has ways of reducing it. Jonathan does have his pride. It’s hard for him to admit he made a mistake by marrying you.” Katherine’s contemptuous eyes never left Kelly’s face.
The silence lengthened. Kelly refused to let Katherine see how coldly angry she was. She noted with satisfaction that Katherine’s cheeks were flushed. She was nervous and frightened but Kelly intended to stay.
“Have you seen Jonathan?” Nancy faced Kelly like a spitting cat.
“Of course,” Kelly replied flippantly, though her heart was breaking. “How do you think I got the key?” She dangled it from her fingers.
“Did you come to get your things? He said he brought them here. He didn’t want you showing up in Boston to get them. You had created enough embarrassment for him.”
“He needn’t have worried.”
“I’m glad you’ve finally realized you have no place in Jonathan’s life. He and Nancy are going to be married as soon as the divorce is final. Probably before Christmas.” Katherine looked directly into Kelly’s eyes and spoke with deliberation. “We are all anxious to put this distasteful episode behind us. And if it means a large settlement, so be it.”
“I understand completely.”
“I thought you would.” Katherine moved past her down a long hall to a door at the far end. As she opened the door, Kelly walked past her and shut and locked it in the woman’s face. She leaned against it, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. Anger put her feet in motion and she went to the large wardrobe at the end of the room and swung open the double doors. The clothes she had left in Boston were hanging on neat racks—blouses, slacks, daydresses, and evening clothes all grouped together with rows of shoes underneath.
Kelly grabbed an armload of dresses and carried them to the bed, then searched through the vanity for scissors. She began cutting the expensive garments in two pieces, separating them at the waist and dropping them to the floor. When the bed was empty, she returned to the closet for more clothes and kept cutting until her thumb throbbed. All at once she wanted to cry. She let the scissors fall to the floor and picked up her purse, ashamed of her childish act.
She left the room, locking the door behind her. Nancy and Katherine were standing in the living room. Katherine’s face was pale and strained; Nancy’s was still belligerent. Outwardly composed, Kelly managed a sardonic smile and dropped the apartment key in a glass dish on the coffee table, then walked directly to the door, forcing the older woman to step out of her way.
“Tell Jonathan he can keep the clothes for Nancy if he’ll increase my settlement another twenty thousand.” She closed the door softly behind her, and walked down the five flights of emergency stairs to the main lobby. She smiled brightly at the man at the desk and went out onto the street. She knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going home!
A taxi took her to the railway station. Before boarding the train, she placed a call to the station manager in Hurricane and asked him to contact Mike by radio and have him meet her. Thirty minutes later, she was on her way.
Retreating farther and farther into her thoughts, Kelly hardly noticed the landscape passing outside her window. Her heart ached for her lost love, but her pride was wounded as well. Jonathan had deliberately set about to win her back. Once he’d succeeded, he’d sent her to the apartment to collect his revenge. She hoped the taste was bitter in his mouth. It wasn’t money he wanted. When she’d left him, his pride, too, had suffered a terrific blow that wouldn’t allow him to rest until he had damaged hers.
Kelly’s eyes were hot and dry, but she refused to close them for fear the tears would come. She refused to shed useless tears.
The train rolled on, passing station after station, the click of the wheels singing a familiar tune. But Kelly’s thoughts were far away. Now she would have to tell Mike and Marty that Jonathan owned the resort. Eventually his agents would arrive to dispossess them. She calculated mentally. They should have until December to vacate the property. If Jonathan intended to marry Nancy by Christmas, he must have already started divorce proceedings.
The miles flew by and finally the train pulled into the station at Talkeetna. It was dark when Kelly stepped off, dark at only four o’clock in the afternoon. She pulled the fur collar of her jacket up around her face and walked toward Mike, who was waiting at the end of the platform. Her eyes were glued to his face as she approached. She walked into his arms and hid her face against his shoulder.
“Oh, Mike. I’ve been such a fool!”
“Yeah.”
At last she pulled away from him and he took her hand. He led her to the waiting utility truck, whose running motor sent out a cloud of white fog. Kelly slipped into the passenger seat and Mike revved up the engine. Kelly didn’t speak until they were on the highway.
“I have something to tell you. Mike. It isn’t going to be easy for me to say, or for you to hear, but it’s got to be said. When I married Jonathan, I signed papers allowing him to handle the probate of Daddy’s will, and then I completely forgot about it until he reminded me of it when he first came to the resort. He also told me he’d paid six years of back taxes. Now the property is legally his.” She waited for the explosion that was sure to follow.
Mike was silent for a long while. “That . . . bastard!” He hissed the words from between clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry, Mike. I’m so sorry. My stupidity has cheated you and Marty out of your share. I was so gullible!”
“Join the crowd,” Mike said wearily. “I was even beginning to like the bastard.”
“What are we going to do? How are we going to tell Marty?” She felt, rather than heard, the soft groan that came from her throat.
Mike glanced at her, then took her hand. “She’s a big girl. She’ll take her lumps along with the rest of us.”
“But she and Tram gave up their jobs in Fairbanks. Oh, why didn’t I stay in Portland?”
“Maybe we can raise the money to buy him out.” Mike was grasping at straws and they both knew it.
“He’d never sell to us. He’s out for revenge and he’s got us in the palm of his hot little hand.” Her words were bitter.
“What happened?”
She knew what he meant, but couldn’t bring herself to tell him. “Nothing much. He led me down the primrose path, then pushed me into the icy slough.”
“I knew something had happened when you called.”
After that they were silent. Mike concentrated on the highway that was becoming slick with a freezing mist. Kelly buried her hands deep in the pockets of her coat and stared straight ahead. She felt better now that she had told Mike about the property, and she promised herself that somehow, someday, she would make it up to him and Marty.
“Drop me off at Marty’s, Mike,” she said when they turned into the driveway. “I’ve got to tell her and I’d better do it now.”
Mike parked beside Marty’s cabin. The air was crisp and the tangy, familiar scent of woodsmoke invaded Kelly’s nostrils. This was home. She wished she’d never left it.
Marty opened the door before they reached it. “What in the world happened?”
Kelly stomped the snow from her street shoes and took off her coat before she answered. “Plenty!”
“I figured that. You look as if you’ve been through a wringer. Why in the world did you come back alone. Jonathan . . .”
“I never want to set eyes on him again!” Once again, tears burned in her eyes.
“Well I’m afraid you’re going to see him, because he’s here.”
Kelly’s head jerked around. “Here? I don’t believe it!”
“Believe it. He flew in right after Mike left to pick you up. And he’s raving mad!”
“That’s too damn bad. So am I!” Kelly walked over to the warm, cheery fire and turned her back to it. Mike took off his coat and boots. Tram stood beside his chair and watched her with gentle eyes.
“Tell us what happened, for heaven’s sake,” Marty demanded. “I’ve been so worried since Jonathan came storming in here demanding to know if we’d heard from you.” Her face was creased with concern.
“Jonathan and I have irreconcilable differences. I don’t want to discuss them. But I’ve got something else to tell you.” She told them that Jonathan now controlled the resort. “Marty, Tram, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I wanted you to know the worst right away so you could make plans.”
Marty looked as if she would burst into tears. “You can’t mean he’ll boot us out of here? But . . . this is home!” She turned angrily to Mike. “Why didn’t you take care of those taxes? We could have raked up the money somehow.”
“I didn’t know they were overdue. I thought they’d been taken out of the estate.”
“Don’t blame Mike. Blame me,” Kelly said wearily. “There’s one small bit of good news. Jonathan may own the property, but he doesn’t own the business or the furnishings. Maybe he’ll give you enough for them so you can get a new start somewhere else.”
“It isn’t that,” Marty wailed. “I don’t think I could bear it if I didn’t know that home was here and I could come back to it when I wanted to.” The anguish in her tone tore at Kelly’s heart and she wished for words to comfort her. But before she could think of any, the door opened and Jonathan stepped into the room.
All the anger and humiliation she had felt in the apartment came boiling up. Her angry eyes locked with his across the room. He stood inside the door in his sheepskin coat, his bare head dusted with a sprinkling of snow. He acted as if there was no one else in the room. The silence lengthened and became heavy with tension.
“Am I being excluded from the conference?” He spoke to everyone, but his eyes remained on Kelly.
“Yes!” Kelly cried. “You most certainly are excluded!” She hadn’t intended to speak so bitterly. She wanted to be calm, uncaring. “I’ve told them you own the resort.”
“I see,” he said quietly.
“No, you don’t
see
anything. You’re too stiff-necked to see down to our level, but if you could, you would realize that we’ll survive together. We have each other. Who do you have, Jonathan? Katherine and Nancy?”
“I’d rather discuss our misunderstanding in private.” He removed her coat from the hook and came toward her. She met him in the middle of the room and snatched it from his hand.
“We’ve said it! The next time I speak to you will be before the divorce judge. Or do you have the clout to divorce me without a hearing?” Her anger was intensified by the stricken look that crossed his face. What an actor he was! He started to follow her to the door but she turned on him like a spitting cat. “Stay away from me! I’m going home . . . to my house! If he tries to follow me, Mike, break his leg!” At the door, she turned with a parting remark. “I want you out of here tomorrow. All debtors are allowed thirty days to vacate and we’re taking every day of that time.” Her lungs felt as if they were about to explode, but she managed one more breath. “You come near my cabin and I’ll . . . I’ll fill you with buckshot!”
Kelly slammed the door and ran across the snow-packed yard to her own front door. The lamp was lit and a new log lay on the hot coals in the fireplace. Thank goodness her father had made a bar to go across the door. She went to the closet to get it, then placed a chair beneath the knob on the rear door. Only then did she take off her coat and slip out of her wet shoes.
T
HE NEXT FEW
days were the longest and most unhappy Kelly had ever experienced.
The morning after she had locked herself in the cabin, she heard Jonathan’s voice on the C.B. radio calling Hurricane. He requested they send for his plane. Then he called her.
“Kelly, are you on the channel?”
She turned off the set.
It was almost noon when she heard the plane land in the clearing. Still in her nightgown and robe, she went to the window. Tram took Jonathan to the clearing in the pickup and returned. Kelly stood by the window, tears streaming down her face. A part of her life was over. She cried for lost dreams, for the agony of disillusionment. She had to face the fact that her long-cherished idea of love was simply a myth, that the kind of love she wanted didn’t exist except in the imagination of poets and novelists.
During the long day when she sat beside the fire or lay on the couch hoping for the sleep that eluded her, memories of the scene with Katherine and Nancy stayed doggedly in her brain. She relived each word they’d said over and over again and each time she asked herself how she had ever allowed herself to get involved in such a humiliating situation. When she finally dozed, a pounding on the door awakened her.
“Kelly . . . Kelly . . . open the door,” came Marty’s voice.
Kelly got up off the couch. The room was cold and she shivered as she lifted the bar and opened the door.
“Good heavens! You look like you died . . . days ago.”
“I did.”
Marty handed her a pan wrapped in a heavy towel and took off her coat and boots. “It’s cold in here.”
“I know. I was sleeping.”
Marty took the pan into the kitchen. “You didn’t even start the cookstove,” she wailed.