Always (18 page)

Elinor eyed the other woman from the bed, feeling disgruntled. She'd counted on Daisy understanding her feelings, not jumping to Cole's defense.

"So what," Daisy went on, "if he tried to buy Oakleigh secretly? He practically grew up there. His father patched holes in the walls and repaired the roof more times than I can count. He and Cole have more loving care invested in the house than either Daniel or Jeffrey."

"Cole's father worked at Oakleigh?" Elinor gasped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Shrugging, Daisy sat down on the vanity stool that faced the four-poster bed. "It never came up. I guess it didn't seem important to me."

"That's what Mr. Brinkman meant by Cole wanting to get back at Daniel."

"I suppose so. Daniel really could be a pill." Daisy picked up a buffer and began polishing her nails.

"That doesn't change the fact that he lied to me." Elinor bit her lip, unable to meet her friend's gaze as tears filled her eyes. "He lied to me all the time he was crawling into my bed."

"Honey," Daisy said, her voice exasperated, "do you know how many women in this town would die to get him into their beds, no matter what he's done?"

"Naturally." Elinor couldn't keep the bitterness out of her words. "He's a rich man."

Daisy stared at her in disbelief. "We are talking about the same man here, aren't we? The big guy with muscular shoulders and a butt from heaven? You didn't notice these things while he was crawling into your bed?"

"I noticed." Elinor flushed, her hands worrying a string on the coverlet.

"Well, the rest of the women in town noticed, too. And quite a few of them made offers that had nothing to do with financial gain. To the best of my knowledge," Daisy concluded awfully, "he hasn't looked at any other woman but you since he got to town."

"That's not true." Elinor's depressed spirits flashed to life. "I saw him flirting with Norell."

"Honey," the older woman sighed. "Flirting comes as easy as breathing to Cole. That doesn't mean he's interested in a woman. Norell didn't get any further than anyone else, which says something about the man's interest in you. Norell's not chopped liver."

Elinor felt her lip quiver. "Why couldn't he just be honest about the house? I can't think of one good reason why he couldn't have told me."

"I don't know why he didn't tell you," Daisy conceded. "But I know why he didn't want Daniel to know. Maybe because in years past, Daniel wouldn't have sold the house to John Whittier's son. Your grandfather was a snob. He enjoyed owning the big house in town and lauding it over other people. Why do you think so many people disliked him?"

"But he knew Cole was the buyer," Elinor said, slowly as the wheels in her head started to turn. "On that last visit when Cole was there, Daniel said something about seeing people you never expected to see. He must have known Cole was the buyer, but he didn't block the sale."

Daisy's face took on a wry expression. "I hate to be able to say this from experience, but people tend to get less vindictive when they get on in years."

"You're not old," Elinor objected automatically, grappling to understand her grandfather's behavior.

"Well, maybe not." Daisy got up from the stool. "But I still recommend that you think long and hard before turning Cole away. No one's perfect, and Cole loves you. A man like him doesn't go around asking just every woman to marry him."

Elinor stared at her friend hard. "Wait a second. How did you know that he asked me to marry him? I never mentioned it."

Daisy's expression turned wary. "I, uh . . . I think Cole must have said something about it."

"He talked to you about us?"

Her friend licked her lips nervously. "Not really. He just made a comment once or twice."

"What comments?"

"It was just a joke. Something he said in passing," Daisy said with a mixture of desperation and guilt.

"What, Daisy? What did he say?"

"He said something about creating a dynasty by uniting the Whittiers and the Prescotts," Daisy mumbled quickly as she turned to toss the nail buffer down on the vanity.

"He said
what
?" Elinor bolted up in the bed.

"It was just a joke!"

"I would bet that he was dead serious," she said grimly, throwing back the coverlet and swinging her legs off the bed. "That would be a terrific revenge for a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks who always felt looked down on by people like Daniel. The perfect revenge—living in Daniel's house, married to his granddaughter."

"Well, maybe so," Daisy agreed suddenly, a crafty look crossing her face. "And if it's true that he used you for his own revenge, why would you want to lie here and hide like a whipped dog? Why don't you come out swinging? Show him that he can't get a Prescott down."

She made a face at her friend. Daisy's ploy was as transparent as plastic wrap. "You just want to get me to work the booth with you today so you don't have to wear that embarrassing costume by yourself."

Daisy laughed, looking down at her milkmaid's dress. "Not true. I happen to think we both look terrific in this outfit. And I also think that the best way to mend a broken heart is to get right back up on that horse again."

Elinor chuckled, unable to stay depressed in the face of Daisy's determined onslaught. "You're mixing your metaphors."

"I don't care." Daisy dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Are you coming with me or not?"

"I'm coming," Elinor surrendered climbing out of the bed. "But you'll have to wait while I pour myself into the dress. The pint of fudge ripple I downed last night isn't going to make it fit any better."

"I'm in no hurry," Daisy said.

Elinor went into the bathroom, her thoughts swirling. Despite Daisy's spirited defense, she couldn't convince herself of Cole's innocence. Perhaps he hadn't come to Bayville with the intention of wooing her into his bed, but he hadn't allowed his feelings for her to sway him from his path. And he must have known how his actions would appear to her once the truth was out.

But Daisy was right about one thing. She wasn't going to let Cole and his deceit make her a prisoner in her own home. She'd never dismissed her responsibilities lightly and she wasn't going to start now.

~~~********~~~

Ten

"Three bowls of ice cream?" Elinor wiped away a sticky spill on the counter before dipping into the melting ice cream.

On the other side of the counter, three small pairs of greedy eyes watched as she served out the treat.

"Tell the lady thank you," the frazzled young mother commanded as she handed over several bills. The children mumbled a chorus of polite responses before diving into their goodies.

Elinor wiped the counter down for the fiftieth time in an hour while Daisy served an elderly couple.

"Good afternoon, El."

She felt herself stiffen at the soft brush of his voice. Where had he come from? She'd been wound tighter than a cheap music box all afternoon, wondering if he would be at the festival.

Unwilling to acknowledge his presence, she scrubbed at a nonexistent sticky spot.

"Are you planning to ignore me forever?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Elinor saw him lean against the latticed side of the booth, the sun glinting off his hair. "Would you please leave me alone?" she requested in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, El. I can't do that until you've at least heard me out."

"There isn't anything you could say that could possibly change how I feel." Disappointment propelled the words out with more passion than she'd intended.

An elderly couple, waiting for Daisy to serve them, looked at Elinor in disapproval. She ducked her head, fiercely blinking back the tears.

"I'm not going to give up, El."

She wouldn't let herself glance up at him, but then she didn't need to. His image stayed burned on her brain the way the sun lingered on her eyelids when she'd looked at it too long. Cole was like that, too hot, too bright to resist. But she knew she had to for her own sanity.

Very conscious of Daisy's avid interest, she cleared her hroat. "Leave me alone, Cole."

Turning away blindly, she served a cluster of customers. iVhen the rush was past, Elinor allowed herself a glance n his direction.

"He's gone," Daisy said in disgust.

"Good. I just hope he stays away." She tossed out an empty ice cream carton and silently battled a building headache. He probably would stay away. Men like Cole, she'd discovered, didn't hang around long in the face of rejection.

Two hours later, Elinor plopped another container of ce cream on the counter and arched her aching back. She felt like a rag doll thrown down in a child's toy chest. After scooping ice cream almost nonstop, even the perky juffed sleeves of her milkmaid costume were dragging. 5he had to keep tugging them up to avoid total exposure.

With a sigh of relief, she greeted the volunteers who came a few minutes later to free Daisy and her from their duties. Never again would she happily look a peach in the face. All she wanted to do was go home, dive back in bed and never come out again. Sniveling cowardice had its positive side. If she'd stayed in bed this morning, she wouldn't have had to see Cole.

His husky whisper had curled itself around her heart ind stuck there like a clinging vine. How long would it take her to get over Cole?

She jerked off her apron and looked over to where Daisy was holding a conference with several Guild members. "Ready to go, Daisy?"

Her friend turned. "Why don't you go on to the car, hon. We have to arrange to get together and count the proceeds."

"Okay." She was too tired to object. Tucking her purse under one arm, Elinor left the booth and wandered listlessly along the crowded avenue.

The festival was in full swing, with performances by local dance schools being featured on several makeshift stages. Here and there in the crush of people, miniature ballerinas in cheap, sparkly outfits were being shepherded along by their parents.

In her daring milkmaid get-up, Elinor knew she looked like a refugee from an oldster's tap class. But even that absurdity didn't make her laugh. She politely pushed her way through the crowds, wondering how long it would take Daisy to get to the parking lot.

At the end of the avenue of booths, a throng had clustered, and cheers occasionally rose from the mass. As Elinor came closer, she realized that the crowd was encircling the 4-H Club dunking tank.

People stood four and five deep cheering the pitcher who was obscured from view by the masses. Elinor's feet came to a halt as she recognized who was sitting on the tiny platform ready to be dunked at any moment.

Cole had taken off his Italian loafers and rolled up his trousers. He sat confidently on the platform, his white teeth glinting as he smiled at the pitcher.

Without a conscious choice, Elinor found herself weaving through the herd until she stood just behind the dark-haired woman who was aiming a softball at the target.

Mayor Stephens was manning the 4-H booth, wearing a styrofoam huckster's hat and a bow tie. He handed three balls to his daughter.

Norell had apparently attempted several throws. The catcalls from the crowd urged her to "Try it again!" She pulled back her hand in a mock wind-up . . . and threw the ball like a sissy.

The people around her groaned.

"Go on, Norell. Give it another shot. You'll get him this time."

"Yeah," the mayor urged her. "You'll get him yet."

Norell shook her head, laughing as she turned away. "It'll take a better woman than me to knock that man off his perch."

Insanity struck Elinor then like a bolt from the blue. She looked at Cole where he sat above the water, relaxed with his legs swinging slightly And she wanted more than anything to bring him down a peg. When would she ever have a more beautiful opportunity?

"I'll take a shot at it." Elinor dug in her purse for the money. "Give me twenty dollars worth." No matter how many tries it took, she was going to drown the man.

In the midst of dispersing, the crowd wavered and regrouped. A whispering hum seemed to go through the mass, and Elinor knew its source. Small towns didn't allow for secrets. By this time, most of Bayville would have heard about her fight with Cole.

"Come on, lady!" called out the smart aleck in the dunking tank. "Give me your best shot."

Aware of how ridiculous she must look hefting a soft-ball while wearing an outfit from a brown-wrapper catalog, Elinor swiftly dismissed the thought from her mind. She played pitcher once on a girl's ball team and she knew she had to stay focused.

This was her moment.

"Go ahead, beautiful. Don't hold back!" Cole hollered.

Elinor felt her teeth clench. He was asking for it. She picked up the first ball, tossing it lightly in the air to get the feel of it.

Tweaking her sleeves up one last time, she wound up and let loose. The ball went wide as the crowd howled.

"Love you in that outfit, El!" Cole called. "You look like a Barbie trying to play baseball."

"Give it to him, Elly!" cried a matron standing nearby. "He deserves it for that remark."

"You have no idea how much he deserves it," Elinor told her through gritted teeth before throwing the second ball.

The white sphere flew through the air, glancing off the side of the target. Cole laughed mockingly.

Without hesitating, Elinor picked up the third ball and concentrated fiercely as she envisioned Cole's face emblazoned on the target. She wound up and threw the ball with the zing of a professional pitcher.

Crack!
The target shuddered under the contact and Cole splashed into the tank of water.

As the crowd went wild around her, Elinor saw Cole surface, slinging his wet hair back with a grin. She should have known it would take more than a dunking to wipe the smile off his face.

Feeling suddenly fatigued, she turned away from the booth, bearing the congratulatory slaps on the back without comment.

"Hey, Mayor!" Cole called as he climbed out of the booth. "I'll pay the 4-H Club a hundred dollars if our hotshot pitcher will take a turn in the booth."