Sparing a final sigh, she glanced at the diamond-encrusted Piaget on her wrist, and gasped at the time. Their guests would arrive in less than two hours. Ruth hurried upstairs.
She looked toward Travis’s rooms and stopped, her hand raised to the door to knock and hurry him along. And she almost cursed aloud in frustration as she recalled why her nerves stretched to the breaking point: her errant son.
Earlier, he’d rushed into the master suite and caught his father in a hug, pressed a kiss on her cheek. Then Travis breezily declared, “I put my luggage in my room, and now I’m headed over to Annie’s for a while. I’ll be back in time for the dinner.” He cut through her heart as he walked out the door, turning his back on his responsibilities with no more than a cheerful smile.
Two hours later, Ruth still trembled with an all-consuming urge to grab her son by the neck and shake him until he promised to behave. Until he promised to stand next to Catherine Cabot and pledge himself to her as befitted a Quincy.
Deep, calming breaths. Ruth gulped them in as she uncurled her stiff fingers. Ladies didn’t clench their hands into fists. Forcing herself to relax, she descended the stairs, calculating the amount of time she could spare until her guests arrived.
It was time to have a talk with her husband.
Parked on Hickory Knob, warm and snug in the front seat of his silver BMW, Travis cradled Annie in his arms, the radio muted in the background and snow melting as it hit the windshield. Neither noticed the snow, or cared what songs were playing. They were too busy holding on to one another, trying to stuff four long months of longing and loneliness into one perfect moment of reunion.
He’d wanted to go straight to her house instead of dropping by Quincy Hall, but he knew it would infuriate his mother if he didn’t come home first. Even so, the brief time he spent with his parents chafed at his patience, and he knew he’d have to listen to his mother’s angry tirade later on when he got back to the Hall. He wasn’t looking forward to it.
But he made it to Annie’s in record time, trying to be mindful of the slick streets, so anxious to see her that he came close to landing in the ditch twice. Annie waited on her porch, wrapped in a long coat, her hair hidden under a bright red knit hat. She’d come flying down the steps toward the car as he killed the engine and jumped out. He’d ended up with an armful of excited, teary-eyed girl before he could close his door.
He lifted her off her feet and swung her around in a wild circle, his mouth fused to hers. They kissed madly in the wet snowfall, only coming up for air when Travis realized how soaked they’d become. He’d bundled her into the car and by mutual agreement they’d headed for Hickory Knob for some much-needed alone time.
Their reunion in the cramped front seat of his Beemer passed all too quickly. Her hat lay on the floor near her feet, and Travis wound his fingers in her thick hair, holding her close for yet another kiss. He couldn’t get enough of kissing her. Nothing had ever felt so right.
“When do you have to be back?” Annie rested her head on his shoulder.
He nuzzled her ear and felt her shiver. “Mother’s already mad at me because I wasn’t home for more than a few minutes, so I guess I should head back now. I don’t want to. God, Annie.” He sat up straighter and gazed at her in the dim glow of the dashboard. “These dinners are the pits. Mother always invites all these people she thinks are so important, and they sit in the dining room and talk politics. Dad mostly tolerates them. He never did like politics. And he tires so easily these days. I worry about him all the time.” His father had suffered a debilitating stroke two years ago, and had been confined to a wheelchair ever since.
Annie frowned and commented, “I thought he was doing better. Mama saw Martha at the bank a few months ago, and she told Mama your daddy’s doing fine.” Her words trailed off as Travis shook his head.
“No, I think it’s getting worse. Dad used to go into the office a couple times a week, but it’s harder now for him to get around with that wheelchair. Dan Marley—he’s Dad’s assistant—comes to the house almost every day.” Helplessness overcame him, as always, when he talked about his father’s failing health. He looked at Annie and saw concern for him and for his father on her face. She grasped his hand as he whispered miserably, “I think Mother and Dad still fight a lot over me. Over my future.”
“Oh, Travis. I’m so sorry.” For a few minutes they sat in silence, Travis lost in his own thoughts while Annie held his hand.
Determined to lighten the mood, he shook off the gloomy thoughts, and smiled at her. “Anyway, the party is mostly filled with people my parents’ age. It’s beyond boring. It’s all I can do to sit there.” He pretended to sulk to make her giggle, gratified when she did.
“You’re so cute when you pout.” She grinned at him and nuzzled a kiss to his neck. “Maybe you can sneak out right after dessert. They don’t make you do anything, do they? Like play the piano or dance, or something?”
Horrified, he gasped, “
No.
Don’t even think it. I don’t want to give them any ideas. It’s bad enough already. My mother will probably insist I take Catherine for a walk, which is pure agony. It never seems to matter to Mother how cold it is, either. She still makes me do it.”
“Catherine? Is that somebody’s dog?”
Immediately, an image of Catherine Cabot tied to the end of a leash flashed in his mind. He choked on his own sudden laughter. “Jesus. No! Catherine is a girl, not a dog.”
“Oh? What kind of girl? A little girl? An older girl?”
He heard the insecurity in her voice and quickly reassured her. “She’s the daughter of some friends of my mother’s. Her mother and mine have some half-baked idea we should get together, but Catherine knows I love you.”
“You’ve never mentioned her before.”
He raised Annie’s face until their eyes met, and saw a trace of doubt in hers. “Catherine’s not important, sweetheart. She’s never been worth mentioning at all.” With relief, he watched as her eyes cleared, and she nodded.
“Okay. But tell me about her now.”
“Catherine’s all right, I guess.” Travis leaned back in his seat as he spoke. Annie snuggled closer, her eyes never leaving his. “When we were younger, her family came over a lot. She’d just sit there and stare off into space. I swear, she’s the only kid I know with less personality than any of the fish we used to pull out of Bogg Pond.” He enjoyed her startled snigger and pressed a kiss to her temple, rested his lips against the silky curve of her cheek. “I’d rather be with you, at your house, with your family.” He eased away so he could look in her eyes. “The last time I saw Catherine, I made sure she understood who holds my heart.”
“Me.” It was half question, half statement. But he could feel Annie sigh as she fully relaxed against him, and he drew in a thankful breath.
“Yes. You.” He kissed her mouth lingeringly.
“Too bad I can’t be at your dinner. I’d keep you from being bored.” Annie snuggled even closer.
“You could come, you know. To the dinner. My dad would be happy to have you there.” Travis’s voice was casual, but his heart pounded as he thought about it, about walking into Quincy Hall with Annie’s hand firmly in his. And he tried to picture the way his parents would handle it, how his father would greet her with a smile and maybe even a hug. How his mother might stand there at Dad’s side and either freeze up or do a slow, mean burn.
The more he thought of it, the more he convinced himself of its rightness. He was nineteen years old and in college, for Christ’s sake. He could invite anyone he liked into his home and to these silly dinner parties. His mother had shut Annie out for years. Christmas could be the best time for her to finally understand what Annie meant to him.
With a frown, Annie shook her head. “Travis, I don’t think so. It’s not such a good idea. Your mother—”
“My mother has been rude to you for over five years. It’s never made sense to me, other than she’s just a snob.” He took hold of her shoulders in a gentle grip. “I love you. I want to marry you. Sooner or later my mother has to accept it. I’m so tired of her obsession with what she thinks is the kind of life I should be leading. It’s
my
life. My decisions.” He moved closer and kissed her again, held her close.
In the idling car, poignant holiday music gave way to the local news. Snowflakes swirled past the windows. Travis pressed his forehead to Annie’s. “I’m old enough to choose the kind of life I want and the one I want to spend it with. I choose you.” His lips brushed hers. “I chose you a long time ago.”
“Travis, I—I’m not really dressed for a fancy party.”
Travis thought she looked like an angel. “You’re so pretty, Annie. It doesn’t matter what you wear, you’d look beautiful.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Even when you had leaves in your hair and worm slime on your nose, you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” She pushed indignantly at his shoulder and he let her, then caught her close and hugged her, hard.
Against her ear he vowed, “You’re perfect, so say yes. Come to the party with me.”
Her eyes filmed with tears, Annie nodded. She refastened her seatbelt when he put the car into gear and sat back in her seat, holding on to his free hand as they drove the few miles over to Quincy Hall.
“I can’t stay very late.”
“I know. You can call your parents when we get to my house. Tell them I’ll have you home by eleven. Okay?”
Annie took a deep breath and held it. “Okay.”
Travis gave her fingers a hard squeeze. A new chapter of their lives was about to begin. He didn’t know how ready they were. But it would be all right, as long as they never let go of each other.
As they turned into Quincy Hall’s long driveway, he told himself they’d have a great time, that for the first time ever, the holiday party would mean something special to him because Annie was at his side.
He pushed away the mocking voice of fear, determined to shake off a sense of foreboding.
Ronald, dressed in his best suit, stated, “No, Ruth. I will
not
. You should know better than to even ask it of me.” He faced his wife with the same assurance he’d always possessed. In his wheelchair he should have appeared weaker, but he had never been, and would never be, a weak man.
Ruth regarded him as if stunned, her blue eyes icing over. Travis’s eyes, Ronald thought with sadness. The two most important people in his life shared the same coloring, the same eyes. But Travis’s were warm and guileless. Had Ruth’s eyes always worn such an edge? Had he fooled himself all these years, made her into someone he wanted her to be, only because he loved her so much?
He wheeled himself closer. “Ruthie, listen to me. Our son is nineteen years old, a college man. All too soon he’ll begin a life of his own, and as an adult, he’s more than entitled to it. I’d like to think he’ll include us in that life, wouldn’t you?” He gestured toward her, a plea for her understanding. “He’s drawing away from you, my love. Can’t you see? You’re pushing him away with your unyielding stance. Please, Ruthie. Please think about what you’re doing.”
Her eyes never faltered. Cold and angry, they refused to thaw. They bore into him as she retorted, “I
have
thought. For over five years I’ve thought of little else. And I’ve felt pain at having to admit to myself, time and again, how you put your son’s foolish impulses before me. Travis is still a child. He knows nothing,
nothing
of the world outside our door.” She paused to take a breath, pressing a fist to her chest. “Understand me, once and for all. I will never acknowledge a relationship between our son and that girl. I will never welcome her into this house. If Travis persists in pursuing this insanity, I will find a way to stop it. You have my assurance, trust me.”
Her words cut Ronald to the quick and he closed his eyes briefly, dropping his outstretched hand into his lap. It hurt to admit he’d never sway her. The prejudice she felt against the Turner family ran too deep.
And Ruth’s anguish, at what had been done to her when she was even younger than Annie, still had the power to control her, warp her. Distort her. He couldn’t let it go on. He should have dealt with it, gotten her the help she needed, years ago.
As he tamped down his own anguish, he said the words she’d no doubt never forgive him for. “All right, Ruth. If that’s your final decision, so be it. But you understand
me
.” He sat ruler straight in his chair. Though it sent shooting pain along his spine, he refused to let the knifelike twinges get the better of him. “I may be in a wheelchair, but as long as I have all of my faculties, I’m telling you Travis will be allowed to see whomever he wants to see. His friends are welcome in this house.”
He noted the fury on her face and stressed, “If you cannot behave toward those friends in a civilized manner, then I will ask you to move to another part of the Hall when our son is entertaining them here. I will not have your blind bigotry ruin our child’s happiness and his future.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Are you
threatening
me?”
“If you see my decision as a threat, then yes.”
He would have said more, but the anguished voice of his son broke in. “
Stop
! God, both of you just stop it!”
The color drained out of Ronald’s face at the sight of Travis framed in the drawing room door with tears in his eyes. Snow still clung to his coat, and huddled close to him, visibly distressed, was Annie Turner.
Oh, Lord. How much had his son heard?
Ruth released a hiss of fury and moved toward the door. Hastily Ronald maneuvered his wheelchair between her and the couple who stood like statues in the open doorway, clinging to each other’s hands as if lost.
Ruth growled, “Move out of my way, Ronald.”
“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He held firm between his wife and son. “I believe you have guests to attend, Ruth. I just heard the sound of a car motor, which tells me our friends are starting to arrive. Jenny will get the door, but you should be in place in the dining room, ready to receive them. I think you should go there. Now,” he stressed, when she didn’t respond. For several seconds, their eyes—and wills—clashed. Finally Ruth turned on her heel and walked out the side door. He watched her go with a heavy ache in his heart. But the face he showed to Travis was as calm and loving as always. The smile he sent Annie’s way was gentle.
Before he could say anything, Travis pulled Annie farther into the room and shut the wide doors behind them. Still in his coat and boots, he moved to Ronald’s side and dropped to his knees next to the wheelchair. Tears slipped down Annie’s cheeks as Ronald hugged his boy, trying to ease the hurt he saw in those expressive blue eyes.