Authors: Fern Michaels
Over dinner, he told Amelia about the deal, handing her the blue folder Maggie had forwarded along with all his notes from the phone calls he'd made.
"Darling, how wonderful for you," Amelia said. He was so excited, she couldn't help but smile. Cary hadn't been this animated in a long time. It did her good to watch him and listen to the enthusiasm in his voice. That's all she would think about, nothing else. Not what else that excitement could mean. "I'll clear away dinner and we can sit by the fire," she said. "I have a hundred questions and maybe one or two suggestions."
"Babe, that's what I need, your input. I'm all fired up, as you can see. I'll make the coffee. I like having coffee in front of the fire. God, Amelia, I didn't even ask how your day was."
Amelia laughed. "It had its good and bad points. I'm getting there. This sounds much more exciting. I'm delighted, Cary."
"Me, too, babe," Cary said, hugging her. He was, too. About the deal. Being back in harness was what he needed. All during dinner, up to this second, he hadn't thought of Julie at all. Even now, he pushed her from his thoughts. He wanted to sit by the fire with Amelia and talk about the plantation and the refinery. When it came right down to it, he trusted Amelia's opinions more than his own. She could see around corners, anticipate the unexpected, point out danger areas.
Amelia loaded the dishwasher, then shook out the place mats and folded them neatly. "Does this mean we might eventually reside in paradise?"
"A very good chance. I have a feeling that even though Rand is going to be my partner in this . . . Listen to me .. . it's like the deal's been consummated. .. ."
"It's just a matter of time," Amelia said airily.
"Babe, what would I ever do without you?" Cary beamed.
"Be alone?"
"We're a team. You and me. Me and you. The salt and pepper, the shoe and the shoelace."
"I'm ready. After you, since you're carrying the tray," Amelia cooed. Damn, she felt good. It was like old times. Nothing else mattered. Even if this good feeling between them lasted only an hour, it was worth it. She cleared her mind of everything but Cary.
She felt loved.
They hashed out the proposed deal until eleven o'clock,
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when Cary called a halt. "This is going to be a go; I can feel it, babe. I can't wait to call Rand tomorrow."
"Don't be surprised if he isn't as excited as you are. He has other things on his mind right now," Amelia cautioned. She yawned languidly.
"Don't tell me you're ready to go to bed," Cary complained.
"I'm ready to go to bed, but I didn't say anything about sleep." Amelia grinned.
"After you, madame," Cary said with a flourish.
Cary made love to her that night. Her heart and her body were those of a sixteen-year-old for a while as she matched Cary's ardent lovemaking. It was well after one in the morning when both Cary and Amelia cuddled, exhausted, in the nest of warm, sweaty bedding. "You know what I'd like right now," Amelia whispered.
"A joint?"
"I still have some Panama Red and a smidgen of sinse-milla."
"We'll get all wired up again." Cary laughed.
"You old men do try a woman's spirit." Amelia giggled.
"Save it for when we clinch this deal." Cary yawned.
Amelia snuggled deeper into Cary's arms. "Uuummm," she said sleepily.
Cary's last thought before joining Amelia in sleep was that he would be a fool to tamper with what he had. He loved his wife.
iUiiiiii CHAPTER TWELVE »»>»»
The night air was refreshing. Adam rolled down the windows in the pickup and took long, deep breaths. All the stars were out, and it was going to be a full moon tonight. Sawyer had told him once that when the moon was full, people did strange things—things they wouldn't do under ordinary circumstances. Once he read that there were more births, more deaths, and more violence at the time of the full moon than at any other time. He'd asked his friend Nick Deitrick if it was
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true; shrinks always know that stuff. Nick had laughed and said he'd heard that old wives' tale himself and he believed it implicitly. And, he'd said, he'd seen some of that strange behavior firsthand, in his patients.
Right now, to Adam, the moon just looked pretty, shining down on him as he drove across the fields to Sunbridge. If his fairy godmother were to appear and grant him one wish, he'd wish for Sawyer to be at his side. They'd walk in the moonlight with all the stars winking at them. He'd have his arm around her shoulder, and because she was as tall as he was, she'd sort of lean into him. her head on his shoulder. They'd whisper to each other, make promises they knew they could keep, and then they'd stop and kiss under the moon.
Christ, he wished Sawyer were here to love him. Sawyer didn't care if he was six feet tall and string-bean-thin. She liked his curly red hair and his homely face. Don't forget your elephant ears, Jarvis, he cautioned himself. That's probably what drove her away—his ears. Maybe he should think about getting them pinned back. Men were getting all kinds of plastic surgery these days—face-lifts, eye jobs, contoured cheekbones, and hair transplants. He'd be happy to have an ear job if it would bring Sawyer back. She was his only love.
Maybe tonight he'd write Sawyer a letter, one of his newsy, flip old-buddy letters. But this time all the good stuff would be in there, if she cared to read between the lines.
Adam rolled the pickup truck to a stop in the Sunbridge courtyard. Riley's car and the Bronco were parked side by side.
"Yo," Adam called loudly. "Anyone home?" He looked at his watch. It was after eight.
Jonquil poked her head out the kitchen door. "Riley's upstairs, Mr. Jarvis. Go on up. How's that boy of yours?"
"Right now he's at the YMCA under the direct supervision of a wrestling coach. I don't have to pick him up till nine-thirty. That must have been some cooking lesson you gave him. I can't get him out of the kitchen." Adam laughed. "He keeps making the same thing, though. Do you have any other recipes?"
"I'll write some down and put them in an envelope. I'll leave it here on the counter for you. I hope you encourage the boy, Mr. Jarvis. All the great chefs in the world are men."
"Hey, that's okay with me. I could handle a political car-
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toonist and a chef in the family. The only thing is, I'm getting fat. I had to let my belt out."
"Encourage him," Jonquil called to Adam's retreating back. He waved to indicate he would.
Adam took the stairs two at a time. He glanced into Cole's room and then backed up a step. This was Cole's room, wasn't it? It looked like a spare bedroom.
"Yo, Riley, where the hell are you?" he called.
"Adam. I didn't hear your car."
"This place is a tomb. Where is everyone?"
"Cole moved out," Riley said curtly, "and I took Jonquil on full-time."
Adam's eyebrows shot upward. "Is this one of those things that's none of my business, or do you want to talk about it? I have an hour or so to kill before I have to pick Jeff up. You look like you could use a friend. I'm a real good listener, and I keep my mouth shut," Adam prompted.
Riley hesitated. "Sit down. D'ya care for a drink?" he said, pointing to a bottle of Jack Daniels.
"If you can spare it," Adam said snidely. "It looks to me like you're hell-bent on finishing the bottle yourself. I know you started with a full bottle, because the seal is there on your desk. I knew Cole could heft a few, but I didn't know you hit the sauce."
"There's a lot about me you don't know," Riley snarled.
"Obviously. There's a lot about me you don't know either."
"What the hell makes you think I'm interested in what makes you tick?"
"I won't take offense at that, Riley, because you're drunk and I'm stone-cold sober, and I have a kid to think about."
"I'm sorry, I had no right to come on to you like that. You've been a good friend to me when I needed one. Everything pretty much hit me today."
"Why's that?" Adam questioned.
"Shit! This came in the mail today." Riley grimaced as he handed Adam an envelope.
Adam leaned back in his chair. His eyes narrowed. "This says you are the sole owner of this spread. Cole gave you his half? Cole is generous, but not that generous. What aren't you telling me?"
Riley snorted. "We had a fight. A bad one. He said if we tangle again, one of us will be dead. He's a fucking son of a bitch."
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Adam drew in his breath. This was serious. Riley never cursed.
"He's a goddamn sneaking thief."
"You aren't computing, Riley. The guy just gives you— mind you, the key word here is 'give'—gives you his half of one of the richest spreads in the whole state of Texas, and you're calling him a thief?"
It took Riley thirty minutes to pour out his story. Adam blinked. He was glad he wasn't standing in Riley's shoes. And he thought he had problems.
Saying the wrong thing now could be disastrous. "I never understood the relationship you had with Lacey," he began. "It's not like you to pick up after Cole. What was it, some leftover childish rivalry? Did you know all along nothing was going to come of it? You said you didn't go to bed with her. What the hell were you waiting for? Were you afraid you'd come up short in the sex department? Afraid she'd compare you to Cole? I'm no more stupid than the next guy, but I don't get it."
He paused, but Riley said nothing. He was listening, though, so Adam pushed on.
"You say Cole tried to talk to you, to explain. Evidently his story and Lacey's are identical, but instead of laying the blame where it belongs, you dumped on Cole. Believe it or not, that guy is the best friend you'll ever have. Except for me and Sawyer. C'mon, Riley, let's talk man to man here. It was just a fuck. Once that little jigger goes up and there's a willing body, anything goes. The fact that Lacey took off should prove to you that there is no interest on Cole's part." Another pause; still no response from Riley. "You said you tried to break it off with Lacey," Adam said. "Cole's probably eating himself alive over this. From where I'm sitting, it looks to me like you fucked up. If my feeling this way is going to harm our friendship, say so now."
Riley shook his head miserably. "You're entitled to your opinion."
"You took everything out on Cole. It all came to a head— the business, Coots, your grandmother, Sawyer, and, of course, your grandfather. You made Cole the scapegoat. No one expects more from you than you can give, Riley. You also cannot be all things to all people. You didn't ask for my advice, but I'm going to give you some anyway. Get your priorities straight, and don't do it when your snoot is in a bottle,
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either. If there's anything I can do, I'm here for you."
Riley nodded. "How's Jeff?"
"You aren't going to believe this, but ever since Jonquil showed him how to cook a few things, he's a different kid. He's still surly and snotty, but it's almost like it's an effort to be that way. I dumped him at the Y and told Ed Yeager to work him over. I think I have a handle on it, at least for now. Jonquil said she'd give me some more recipes, so we'll see what happens. Listen, the main reason I came over here was to ask if I could borrow your old mopeds. I figure Jeff and I could ride them together out on those trails you and Cole cut on the old south forty."
"They're in the garage, but there's no gas in either of them. They were drained a long time ago. The maintenance booklets should be in the kitchen. I'll help you."
"That's real kind of you, Riley. I guess you noticed that I have a bad back from cutting all that wood. Thanks for your concern."
"Asshole." Riley grinned.
"Takes one to know one. Have you heard from Sawyer lately?"
"Still carrying the torch five years, one wife and kid later, huh? She flew in and out a few weeks ago, but she stuck to the East Coast."
"If there's no love, the rest doesn't mean anything. So you see, when I hand out advice, I draw from personal experience. What are you going to do with this place now that you're king of all we survey? Sole owner of Sunbridge! That should make the front page the day the deed is filed. I hope you can handle the notoriety." Adam slapped Riley on the shoulder as they headed for the garage.
Riley stood for a long time watching Adam's red taillights. It was a clear night, crisp and cool. Millions of tiny stars winked down on him. It was early morning in Japan now.
On the ride to the airport Amelia had to fight with herself to keep her chatter light and a smile on her face. Cary was really going to Hawaii. Sure, it was a legitimate business deal, but one couldn't conduct business twenty-four hours a day. Cary would have lots of time to explore the islands, to socialize. If she wanted to, she could call Billie and find out where Julie was staying in Hawaii and the approximate distance to
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Maggie's house. For that matter, she could probably look at a map and figure it out herself. If she wanted to.
She'd always felt envy, but not the malicious kind, when Billie and Thad spoke of the house in Hawaii. Rand and Maggie talked about it as though it were the only house in the world for lovers. Maybe, just maybe, she'd get a crack at that wonderful paradise with Cary. She would pray tonight that if Cary sought Julie out, he wouldn't take her there, to that magic house. She wondered how she'd be able to tell if he had or hadn't.
She'd encouraged this trip of Cary's. If her approval could make him smile, if her encouragement could make his eyes light up like hundred-watt bulbs, then she was doing the right thing. She hadn't known she could be so unselfish. But then, she'd never been in this position before. She was learning so many things about herself these days. Her priorities were straight now, thank God.
"I'm glad we decided to come by limo," she said, smiling at Cary. "This way I can come in and stay with you till it's time to board."
"Let's have coffee, okay?" Cary said warmly as he scrunched closer to her in the backseat.
"I could use a cup." God, he was so up, so happy. She'd do anything—absolutely anything — to keep this smile on her husband's face.