Circled Heart (19 page)

“You give me credit for more conscience than I really have. How could I say no to being out on the lake? Only, may I bring a friend?”

I thought Drew’s face lost some of its teasing expression. “Your Mr. Goldwyn?”

Surprised at the assumption, I answered, “No, not Allen. My friend, Crea O‘Rourke. She’s been a godsend helping with Grandmother, and she recently told me she’s never been on a boat. It would be such a treat for her, and I know she could use a break from the heat and the work.”

Drew was cheerful in agreement. “Miss O’Rourke it is. Fritz will pick the two of you up around noon tomorrow and we’ll float the afternoon away.” Then he asked, curiosity obvious in his voice, “You didn’t ask to bring a friend along because you thought you needed a chaperone, did you, Johanna?”

I laughed. “I told you before, Drew, that I’m past the age of needing one. I tend to do exactly what I want, but even if all that weren’t the case, no one would worry about my virtue or my reputation when I’m with you. From the company you keep, it’s clear I’m not your type.”

“You’re certain of that, are you?” I met his look, intrigued by the half-challenging expression I saw there.

“I’m afraid so. Your Viola and I might as well live on different planets. Now if your offer for a ride home still stands, I’ll take it and look forward to seeing you Saturday.”

Drew stayed behind at Cox’s, giving Fritz directions to come back for him later, so I had the luxury of solitude in the roomy, luxurious red leather back seat of the Gallagher Pierce Great-Arrow. I liked Drew Gallagher a great deal, probably too much for my own good, but I was not fooled or flattered by his comments and the way he had of looking at me and giving the impression I was some beguiling creature he’d just discovered. We both knew that was a practiced expression he pulled from his book of social tricks, listed somewhere between f for flirtation and s for seduction. I spent a while contemplating being seduced by Drew Gallagher, decided it would be quite pleasant for as long as it lasted but unbearable once it ended. Poor Flora lingered in the back of my mind, too, whose pleasure in a man’s company, undoubtedly also pleasant while it lasted, had brought her to a solitary, sad end. I was all grown up, though, not a childish Flora, and I believed I could take care of myself. In many ways, Drew seemed a contradiction, and I enjoyed trying to figure him out, enjoyed his humor and verbal sparring, his quick wit, and the way he had of listening to me as if I were the only woman in his universe. I liked his flashes of honesty and his complete disdain for social pretense, bigotry, and hypocrisy. More than all that, however, I occasionally saw something in him that appealed to me on an emotional level I had never experienced before, something vulnerable and thoughtful that surfaced only infrequently in tone or expression. Maybe that was all an act, too, though; how could I tell? Life had been a social game to Drew Gallagher for such a long time that I suspected all his actions were dubious, calculated, and done simply for effect. Still, he was the only man I knew with a yacht and the city was unbearably hot, so now was obviously not the time to examine his motives and my feelings too seriously. I could do that after the weather broke.

Crea’s sole attempt at resisting the lake excursion was to ask whether she should leave Grandmother for the day.

“I appreciate that you’ve become fond of Grandmother, Crea, and you can trust that I’ve made satisfactory arrangements for her. Mayville is home, of course, and Jennie and Uncle Hal are coming for the afternoon. Grandmother enjoys their company. I bribed Peter to take his mother out of the city for the day so I can be assured Aunt Kitty won’t show up. Grandmother’s made such good progress in her speech that I’m afraid of a setback if my aunt spends any time with her. Aunt Kitty can have that effect on people.” I recalled Uncle Hal’s gentle chiding of my attitude toward my aunt and added, “I shouldn’t have said that. She and I have never gotten along, but I don’t need to be malicious or unkind.”

“She is difficult,” Crea commented, “but I feel sorry for her in a way. She’s a fearful woman.”

“Is that what it is?”

“Yes, I think so.” Crea ignored the sarcasm in my tone. “Your aunt strikes me as a woman who lives with a number of phantom fears, the kind that hover in the back of her mind, unnamed and unacknowledged.”

“You’re more sensitive and certainly more charitable than I, Crea, and you deserve a day on the lake just on general principles.” My remark changed the subject, but later I considered Crea’s comment and decided she might be right.

Douglas Gallagher’s yacht, like his house and his automobile, was the most handsome one of its kind I’d ever seen. I stood next to Drew on the dock and asked incredulously, “This is the Gallagher private yacht, Drew? It looks larger than several small countries I visited.”

“I know,” Drew responded complacently. He’d driven Crea and me himself, then left the roadster in the hands of a Yacht Club attendant. We pondered the docked vessel in silence a moment and when he finally spoke, I caught the honest amusement in his voice. “It’s quite something, isn’t it? My brother never shared its existence with me because he probably knew I wouldn’t be able to take it seriously.”

“I’ve never seen such a beautiful boat,” Crea commented carefully. “Is it just my inexperience or is it unusually large?”

“It’s not you, Miss O’Rourke. You don’t have to have known my brother to appreciate his compulsion always to have the newest and the best and always to be one step ahead of everyone else.”

I had shared the bare facts of Drew’s inheritance with Crea earlier so she responded with quick sympathy. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the opportunity to know him, Mr. Gallagher, and I’m sorry about his death.”

Drew smiled at her sincerity. I thought he might respond with a flippant or casual remark, but he contented himself with a simple thank you, adding, “Won’t you follow Johanna’s lead and call me Drew?” From the start, Crea had been cautious around Drew, and she still seemed guarded in his presence.

“Yes, if you’ll stop addressing me as Miss O’Rourke.”

“It’s a deal. Now, ladies, if you’re ready, so am I. I admit to some excitement myself since it’s also my maiden voyage on the San Francisco.” I had missed the vessel’s name until Drew said it aloud but then noticed the words written in bold, dark script on its side. I thought it a fitting name. The boat seemed as large as its namesake. Drew’s gaze met mine and although I hadn’t spoken the thought aloud, he grinned.

“I agree that it is, Johanna,” he said, reading my mind, and for that brief, shared moment I found him completely irresistible. Then he took Crea and me each by an arm and led us on board.

After an hour out on the lake, Crea relaxed into the manner of a woman accustomed to wealth and privilege—and yachting. “I worried I might be seasick,” she confessed to me privately, “but it’s so calm and smooth, you hardly know you’re on the water.” She lay on a deck chaise, her face shaded by a large hat. Through a large, inelegant yawn, she murmured something about taking a little nap and closed her eyes.

I went in search of Drew and found him leaning over the railing at the prow, staring intently at the horizon. My approach startled him back from wherever he was daydreaming, and I apologized for intruding.

“I was contemplating sailing away and not looking back,” he told me. I couldn’t tell from his expression whether he was serious but guessed he might be.

Joining him at the railing, I said, “I can’t imagine you have anything to run away from, Drew, but even if you did, I don’t think running away from problems is the answer.”

“No? What would you recommend then?”

“An abrupt about-face and a forceful stare. They work for me every time.” He laughed and turned around, propping his elbows on the railing behind him.

“I’m sure they do, Johanna. Is your friend Crea enjoying herself?”

“Yes. Thank you for bringing us both along. Crea hasn’t had much leisure or luxury in her life.”

“How did you meet her?”

“Serendipity,” I answered evasively. From his knowing smile, I thought he guessed that Crea’s background included the Anchorage but guess all he want, I wasn’t about to confirm or deny. Crea could talk for herself. I went on, “What a splendid boat this is! I’d guess there’s enough room to fit the entire first floor of Cox’s on board.”

“It is big,” Drew agreed. “Much too big for me, anyway. Enjoy the day because the San Francisco is going up for sale as soon as we get back.”

“You can’t be serious! Think what wonderful parties you could give, with lanterns strung along the railing and a dance band on deck!” The words conjured up a sudden and completely unexpected picture of the Titanic on its last night out. I remembered hearing music in the background when Grandmother and I first went on deck but couldn’t recall when the music had stopped to be replaced by the growing hysterical murmur of frightened people. Drew was quiet until I looked up to meet his glance with a small smile. “Sorry. I was remembering something. Anyway, why sell the San Francisco? Wouldn’t owning it please your friends and enhance your business relationships?”

“Sadly, I don’t have enough friends to fill it for a party, and more importantly, I’m not Douglas, who no doubt would have known how to use the boat for both effect and profit. I don’t have the talent or the desire to do so. The San Francisco has to go. I find its grandeur somewhat embarrassing.”

“I’m surprised. You once admitted that you enjoyed doing things for effect.”

“Doing things, not owning things, Johanna. There’s a difference. Douglas was the collector, not me. Unlike him, I prefer women who enjoy my company more than my finances. Before Douglas’s death, I didn’t have to worry about ulterior motives because I was always on the edge of poverty.”

“Is it different now?”

“Oh, yes. Where before women were warned away from me by their well-meaning families, I’ve now become a matrimonial catch.”

“Poor you.” The idea of Drew Gallagher walking down the aisle with some young thing put me in a bad temper that came out in my tone.

“It is poor me. Even if I’m honest and explain that marrying is not an option for my future, I detect a gleam in the woman’s eye that says she knows better. When it comes to matters of love and marriage, the belief of members of your sex in their superior wisdom is annoying.”

“Women have been groomed for marriage for centuries, Drew, and it’s ingenuous of you to hold that against us. Unless society changes and offers women legal, economic, and political equality, the situation will continue exactly as it is. It hasn’t been that long since women were considered property and to this day we can’t affect the political process with our votes. Many women are deluded into thinking marriage is protection against poverty, loneliness, and back-breaking, never-ending labor.”

“Do you agree that’s a delusion, Johanna?”

I stopped to consider his words before answering carefully, “Not completely. Marriage is no panacea, but my parents and my grandparents were true partners in life, happy in each other’s company. Somehow they found a way to live together in mutual respect and affection, so if I knew only their examples, I’m sure I’d be less skeptical than I am. But I’ve witnessed too much real life, I’m afraid, to be a whole-hearted romantic, seen too many women abandoned and destitute, bruised and beaten.”

“Poor you.” A gentle mockery as he repeated my earlier words.

I met Drew’s eyes quickly, saw something warm there, something almost tender, and backed away.

“Lucky me,” I retorted too quickly. “Smart me,” then added, “I’m going to find Crea. I’ve left her on her own too long.” Drew put a hand on my forearm.

“Crea’s all grown up, Johanna. She’ll be fine. You’re running away from me, which isn’t like you. Where’s your about-face and forceful stare?” I liked the feel of his hand on my arm and did not resist when he pulled me closer. “For a strong-minded woman who I’ve come to believe is fearless, your face told me you wished yourself anywhere but with me just now. Believe me, Johanna, I have no intention of harming you.” He spoke softly, his lips brushing mine but not quite kissing me.

“What then?” I murmured. That close he had a wonderful fragrance about him, something light and spicy that mixed with the clean smell of the air and water. I imagined he would taste even better.

He gave a low laugh, rested a hand on the back of my head and briefly wove his fingers into my fly-away hair before kissing me lightly on the lips.

“Only this.”

Masking my disappointment as he stepped away, I commented, “What a gentleman you are!”

“Despite public opinion, you mean?”

“I’m afraid so. But feel free to call on me any time to defend you and speak about your good behavior.”

“Would you do that?”

Something in his tone made me answer more seriously than I intended. “Yes, Drew, I would. I’ve said some uncharitable things to you in the past, but I’m beginning to realize that in some respects I wronged you. I listened to rumors and made assumptions based on appearances, a bad habit I’d criticize in anyone else but one I practiced with impunity. You’ve done a great deal of good in a short amount of time, and you should be commended for that.” My words brought a scowl.

“Don’t compliment me, Johanna. It’s not what I’m used to hearing from you and it makes me uneasy. You don’t know my motives.”

“Motives don’t concern me any more than intentions. They’re always so murky and confused, and I’m never smart enough to figure them out. I prefer to look at actions and results, both obvious to the naked eye and more easily interpreted.”

“Sometimes you amaze me.”

“In a good way?” I questioned, laughing. Drew took my arm and began to walk with me back toward the side deck where Crea dozed.

“Most of the time,” he answered, and his wary tone made me laugh again.

When we docked late in the afternoon, Drew suggested we stop for refreshments at the clubhouse.

“The club has a tolerable restaurant, and I can’t be the only one who’s famished. I can see Johanna’s willing, but what about you, Crea?” Crea sent me a questioning look.