Dreamkeepers (17 page)

Kelly almost smiled. Marty tended to over-dramatize. She built up the fire while Marty tackled the cookstove, muttering and complaining all the while.

“And I thought you’d welcome me and your supper with open arms. What do I find but you lying on your fanny and the fires almost out and . . .”

“Oh, Marty! Stop that and say what you came to say.”

“Okay. Why didn’t you come up to the lodge and eat with the rest of us? Your leg isn’t broken!”

“I didn’t want to!”

“Oh!” Marty seemed to relent. “In that case,” she said with her impish grin, more relaxed now, “I’m glad I came.”

Half an hour later, Kelly announced, “The stew was delicious.” She set the empty bowl in the sink.

“Of course. It’s my best recipe, and about the only thing I’m sure will turn out well. It’s a good thing Tram isn’t hard to please. He’ll eat anything that doesn’t bite him first.” Marty settled down in a chair and pulled her feet up under her. “We’ve decided to get me pregnant.” She giggled. “Tram says he’ll work on the project day and night.”

“You’re lucky.” Kelly handed Marty a cup of coffee.

“So are you.”

“Oh, yeah? Sure I am!” She avoided Marty’s eyes.

“I think he loves you,” Marty said softly. When Kelly didn’t answer, she added, “He didn’t take the property from us.”

Kelly turned huge, luminous blue eyes to Marty. “What do you mean?”

“After you left last night, I thought Mike was going to kill him . . . and I would have helped. It was Tram who calmed us all down. He’s not a violent person. His motto is ‘talk first, fight later.’ Anyway, the crux of it is this . . . Jonathan paid up the taxes and settled the inheritance tax, or we would have had to sell some of the property to pay it. But the property still belongs to us. Jonathan said we could consider it a loan at low interest.”

“Don’t believe him. He doesn’t do anything out of the goodness of his heart. He’s lulled you into believing that, but he’ll lower the boom on you if things don’t go the way he wants them to go. I know him. He’s devious. He’s divorcing me so he can marry his sister’s stepdaughter. Maybe he’s going to give me our property as a settlement,” Kelly added with a dry laugh.

“I think he loves you.”

“Don’t say that! You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve lived with him. I know him better than you do.”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to jump down my throat.”

“I’m sorry. I feel so washed out. I feel as if everything has stopped but me, and I’m still whirling around in confusion, fear, and despair. Stay by me, Marty. Someday it’ll be over and I’ll look back on this time in my life as if it had happened to someone else. I just don’t want you and Mike to build up false hopes about this place. I won’t believe we still have it until the deed is in our hands.”

Marty studied Kelly intently. “Time will tell,” she said lightly and rose to her feet. “Meanwhile, we’ve got guests coming this weekend. Two wildlife photographers and a couple who want to ride on a dogsled. Tram will take care of the shutterbugs and Mike said his team is ready to supply the rides. You and I will have to cook and clean. You do the cooking.”

“I hate to cook.”

“So do I. But you’re better at it than I am.”

“I think you can do better than you let on. Aunt Mary taught us both at the same time.”

“I didn’t pay as much attention to the lessons as you did.”

“Oh, get out of here!” Kelly’s voice was warm with affection. “I’ll be up in the morning to give you a hand.”

Marty smiled tiredly and suppressed a yawn. “I’ll need it.”

Kelly worked furiously the next day, trying to tire herself out so she could sleep that night. She carried out ashes, scrubbed and cleaned, washed and ironed. When she could find nothing else to do, she started up the small chain saw and cut the small chunks of wood needed for the cookstove. Not once did she allow herself to think of Jonathan. Her arms grew so tired holding the chain saw that she dropped it and almost sawed into her leg. She was sensible enough to know it was dangerous to work, so she hitched Charlie to her old sled and they rode around the yard.

Charlie loved it, and Kelly began to doubt Mike’s judgment that Charlie would never make a good sled dog. She told him so that evening during dinner.

“I hitched Charlie to my old sled, Mike, and he took to it like he was born to it.”

“He was.” Mike helped himself to another serving of potatoes.

“Well?” Kelly prompted when it became apparent he wasn’t going to say more.

Marty groaned. “Mike hasn’t outgrown his childish habits. You have to pull every word out of him.”

Mike grinned at Kelly. “Humor me.”

“Get out of here! I should take a club to you.”

Tram looked at Marty questioningly. She laughed. “Don’t worry, darling. They won’t kill each other. This has been going on since they were ten years old.”

“If I told them everything I know, Tram, they’d be as smart as me.” Mike waved his fork at the girls.

“Oh, stop that and tell me.” Kelly knew the twins were trying to raise her spirits, and she appreciated their concern.

“No sense of humor,” Mike grumbled. “Charlie’s sire was the lead dog of a team that placed in the Iditarod Trail Race a few years back.”

“You’re kidding!” Marty cried. She turned to Tram. “You wouldn’t know about this, honey. You haven’t been in Alaska long enough to know about the World Championship Dogsled Races. If a dog has the stamina to even finish that thousand mile race, his value goes up, up, up.” She turned puzzled eyes to her brother. “Hey! How in the world did you manage to get Charlie?”

“Charlie’s got a flaw. He’s not a fighter. If I let that team of mine loose, they’d make dog meat of him. He won’t even fight on a one-to-one basis.”

“How about stud service?” Kelly suggested.

“No good there either. He’s sterile.”

“I like him. He’s my dog. You gave him to me,” Kelly said defiantly.

“You can have him, but keep him away from my team when I have them hitched. They’re hard enough to handle as it is.”

The next morning Kelly played an extra long time with Charlie. He jumped, barked, chased the frisbee until his tongue was hanging out. Kelly knelt down in the snow and hugged his shaggy neck.

“You and I are alike, Charlie. We didn’t fit into what was expected of us.”

At noon a delivery van backed up to the door of the lodge. Kelly saw it pull away a few minutes later and dismissed it from her mind. Probably someone asking directions. An hour passed before she went up to the lodge with a bundle of laundry and noticed that tire tracks in the snow led right up to the door. She opened it to see a mountain of crates and boxes with Marty, Mike, and Tram standing in the middle of them.

“What’s going on?” she gasped. Guilt was written all over Marty’s face. “Marty! What’s all this stuff?”

“Now don’t get in a stew. Jonathan sent out a few things. It’ll be added to what we owe him,” she said quickly.

“A few things?” Kelly edged her way between the boxes. “Washer, dryer, dishwasher, vacuum cleaner, microwave oven, sheets, towels . . .” She stopped reading aloud, but continued making the rounds of the boxes that filled half the family room. “And an antenna. That’s so you can pull in that Tulsa, Oklahoma station and hear the football games, isn’t it,” she said sarcastically. Her eyes followed a path of melted snow to the back rooms.

“Kelly . . .” Marty called before her husband hushed her.

Stacks of boxes lined one wall of the big dormitory room. They were uniform in size, and the name Jonathan Templeton was stamped on each one. Kelly stood numbly looking at them. He was moving in, invading her home. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d taken everything from her. Returning to the family room to retrieve the bundle of laundry she’d dropped, she wondered vaguely if she looked like she felt—as if she’d been kicked in the throat.

“Don’t look like that, Kelly! I can’t bear it!” Marty cried.

Kelly waved a weak hand at the clutter of boxes. “Money talks. I can see where that leaves me.”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Marty broke away from Tram and rushed over to her. “We needed things to make this place pay. It’s a loan, Kelly. Just a loan.”

“Then what’re his things doing back there?” She jerked her head toward the bedrooms.

“We couldn’t very well refuse to rent the dormitory. Be reasonable, Kelly,” Marty pleaded.

“Did you agree to this, Mike?”

Mike remained silent and his sister prompted him angrily.

“Tell her! Tell her the three of us talked it over with Jonathan and agreed the place needed refurbishing.”

“Oh, hush, Marty! Yes, I agreed, Kelly. Business is business.” Mike didn’t look at her.

“I thought I was a partner in this venture, too,” Kelly whispered through stiff lips. “Don’t I have say about something as important as this?”

“We knew what you’d say,” Mike said stubbornly.

“I hope you enjoy all this.” Kelly waved her hand at the boxes again and went out the door before they could see that she was trembling. “Oh, Tram!” she heard Marty wail.

Kelly forced her trembling legs to support her down the path and was grateful for the cold air she sucked into her lungs. She prayed the leaden weight in the pit of her stomach would dissolve.

Inside the sanctuary of her own home, she threw herself down on the couch. Great, shuddering sobs tore through her. It was a relief to let the misery flow out of her. She could cry here. There was no one to see her. The tears came in an overwhelming flood, pouring down her cheeks and seeping between her fingers.

At last the tears stopped and she lay on the couch staring into the fire. She was tired. She put another chunk of wood on the grate, went to her room, and changed into her long flannel gown. She took her pillow and down-filled comforter back to the couch, and fell asleep almost instantly.

Kelly woke early the next morning. The room was so cold she could see her breath. She got out from under the warm blankets, put more wood on the fire, turned on the electric water heater, and crawled back under the blankets. She felt rested and clearheaded. It was obvious to her now that Jonathan’s strategy was to drive her away, but it wasn’t going to work. He and his money would never separate her from this place and the two people she loved best. But deep inside, she wondered if she had the strength to stand up to him.

She showered and dressed, then, on impulse, put on fresh makeup. No sense in looking the martyr, she told herself, even if she did feel like one.

She let herself into the lodge kitchen where Mike sat at the table talking on the C.B. radio.

“Ten-four. I’ll be coming your way this morning. Stand by and I’ll give you a call. If you have time, we can have a bit of lunch together.”

“Ten-four, Barefoot. I’ll be on the by and listening.” The girl’s voice was soft and musical.

Mike gave Kelly a sheepish grin.

“Is that the new girlfriend?” she asked.

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean . . . sort of? What’s she like?”

“Well, she’s not fat like Geraldine Jenkins!” he said gruffly.

Kelly laughed. “I see you’ve got all the loot laid out,” she said lightly, glancing around the room at the shiny new appliances.

“Yeah. You still mad?”

“No. I don’t think so, anyway. I can understand how you and Marty were tempted to take them.”

“Oh, that’s just great!” Mike got to his feet.

“Calm down,” Kelly said quickly. “I said I understand and I do. And, in case you’re wondering, I’m not going to let Jonathan Winslow Templeton the Third drive me away from here!”

Mike grinned. “Good girl! I was beginning to think you’d lost your spunk.”

“Don’t you believe it, buster. I’m as gutsy as ever!” They were brave words, but would she remember them when she faced her husband again?

The test came sooner than she expected.

In the middle of the morning, Marty was in the wash room trying out the new washer when Jonathan’s voice came in on the radio.

“Break . . . Mountain View.”

Kelly looked dubiously at the set. She desperately wanted to turn it off, but she didn’t dare in case of an emergency. She pressed the button on the microphone and said, “Go ahead.”

There was silence and then Jonathan’s voice. “Will someone bring the truck out to the clearing?”

“Ten-four,” Kelly said through stiff lips. She went to get her coat, then relayed the message to Marty, who went to find Tram.

On her way to her cabin, Kelly heard the plane circle to land, but she didn’t look skyward. She hated herself for running away, but she needed time to prepare herself for the eventual meeting. Part of her had hoped that, despite the boxes piled in the dormitory, he wouldn’t come back. She should have known better, she thought bitterly.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

W
HEN THE FRONT
door of the cabin was flung open, Kelly moved away from the chest where she had put away her sweaters and went to stand in the bedroom door. Jonathan glanced at her, then, using the boot-jack beside the door, removed his boots.

“Don’t bother taking off your coat and boots. You’re not staying.” When he didn’t answer, she added, “I said you’re not staying. This is my house and I don’t want you here.”

“Who said anything about staying? I came to get my things.” He walked past her into her father’s room.

“Good.” She followed him to the doorway. “The sooner you’re away from here, the better I’ll like it. Be sure to give me the papers to sign before you leave.”

“What papers?” He took his big suitcase from the closet, unzipped it, and spread it open on the bed.

“Don’t play games. The divorce papers. You did it all for nothing, Jonathan. I didn’t want a settlement when I left you and I don’t want one now.”

“It was a childish act of vandalism destroying all those clothes.”

“They wouldn’t have fit Nancy anyway. I didn’t want them. All I want from you is the title to this property and I’ll keep after you until I get it. I won’t let you do Mike and Marty out of their share.”

“Didn’t they tell you—”

“They told me what you told them,” she interrupted coolly. “But I didn’t believe it.”

He shrugged and dropped a stack of underwear into the bag. “Think any damn thing you please,” he said, the words falling icily. “You will anyway. All you know how to do is to break and run.”