Star (16 page)

“You didn’t answer my question.” She looked up at him as he stood beside her, and he knew there was no running away from her. There was nothing to do but tell her the truth. Elizabeth demanded nothing less of anyone, and certainly not of Spencer.

“I don’t know yet.”

She nodded, as though thinking it over, and then looked into his eyes again. “I think we’d be a good team, you and I. We have the strength and the brains to do some interesting things together.” She made it sound like a business deal and it depressed him.

“Like what? Run a corporation?”

“Maybe. Or politics. Or just be like Ian and Sarah.”

“With their horses and their friends, and their hunts and their clubs, and her father’s castle. Elizabeth,” he sat down again and looked at her, “I’m not like them. I’m different. I want other things.”

“Like what?” She seemed puzzled.

“Like children. You never even think of that, do you?” But she looked startled when he said the words. Children had never been important to her.

“We could have them too,” like diamonds or racehorses or investments. She made them sound like a possession to put in the back of her closet. “But there are other more important things in life.”

“Like what?” he said again, amazed by the way she saw things. “What’s more important than that?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Spencer. Accomplishment, achievement, making a place for oneself.”

“Like your father?” It was a veiled criticism, but she didn’t hear it.

“That’s right. You could be in his shoes one day, if you wanted to.”

“The trouble is,” he looked at her ruefully, “I’m not sure I want to. Can you understand that?”

“Yes,” she nodded slowly at him, “I think you’re afraid to. I think you’re afraid to be confused with your brother again. But you’re not him, Spencer, you’re you, and there’s a lot waiting for you out there, if you’ll just go and get it.” But he still wasn’t sure that he would ever care enough to make it worth the trouble. But on the other hand, he couldn’t imagine working on tax cases for the rest of his life at Anderson, Vincent, and Sawbrook. Just what was he going to do when he grew up? He still hadn’t made his mind up about the future.

“I want to make the right decisions.”

“So do I. But I think I see more than you do.”

“What makes you so sure? You’re twenty years old. You don’t know a damn thing about life yet.” He was suddenly angry. In a veiled way, she was proposing to him, and she sounded as though she was trying to talk him into buying a piece of property, like a house or a car
or an object. And he wanted to be the one to ask her, if that was what he decided. But he hadn’t, and he didn’t think he ever would. He didn’t love her.

“I know more about life than you think. I know where I’m going at least, which is more than you do.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stood up again and looked out at the ocean. “I’m going for a swim.” He walked into the ocean then and was gone for half an hour, and she didn’t press him again, but what she had said had shaken him. After that, he was careful not to say anything that could be misinterpreted. But before he left, she came to his room, and faced him again. And there was no avoiding her eyes this time. Spencer watched her, feeling hunted.

“I just want you to know that I love you.”

“Elizabeth, don’t … please …” It hurt him not to be able to tell her he loved her too. “Don’t do this.”

“Why not? And I meant what I said on the beach the other day. I think we could do great things together.”

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m the one who’s supposed to propose, kid, and when I do, you’ll know it.”

“Will I?” Her eyes taunted him as he approached her.

“Count on it.” He pulled her close to him then, and kissed her. She was so damn forceful that it made him want to seduce her just to show her who was boss, who was in control, and if he had any say about it, it wasn’t going to be Elizabeth Barclay. But his plans went awry again. Being with her was like playing with fire, and he was never sure afterward who had seduced whom, all he knew was that they had made love, and he liked it. Her body filled him with hunger and passion, and there was an irresistible desire to control her, in bed if nowhere else. She was an interesting lover, and he also knew without discussing it with her, that she wasn’t a virgin.

She drove him to the airport when he left, and he looked at her for a long time, not sure what to do. He needed time to think, and he was anxious to get back to New York now.

“I’ll be back at school next week.”

He kissed her softly and wanted to make love to her again, annoyed at himself for being in her power even for a moment. In more ways than he knew, she was stronger than he was.

“I’ll call you.”

He waved as he got on the plane, and he saw her standing there as they taxied down the runway, in her sundress and her big hat, her eyes searching him out even as they lifted into the air. He felt as though he would never get away from her now. He was no longer sure if he wanted to. Maybe she was right. Maybe she could help him find what he wanted. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore, and the worst of it was that as they landed in the snows of New York, he knew that he missed her.

Christmas on the ranch was depressing that year. It was their first Christmas since her father had died, and all the joy seemed to have gone out of their lives. Becky spent the day with them with her children, and Tom turned up in time for dinner, reeking of booze, and openly eyeing Crystal. When he left again, Becky burst into tears and accused her of flirting with him, and Crystal was horrified. She couldn’t even tell her how much she disliked him.

The family went to church together the next day, and her mother cried bitterly, thinking of the husband she had lost, and how her life had changed since then. The only joy for Crystal was the solace she always derived from singing with the congregation. They went home after that, and Crystal quietly silpped away to bring gifts to Boyd and Hiroko. Little Jane was eight months old by then and crawling all over their living room, gurgling happily and pulling herself up on Crystal’s knees as they watched her. They had a tiny tree, and Crystal gave them
her gifts. She had made a sweater for Hiroko, her first attempt, and a scarf for Boyd, and she had bought a doll for Jane, which she happily chewed on. For Crystal, Christmas was happier here. It was a house filled with love and warm hearts, unlike the bleak silence in her own house. Becky knew that Tom was cheating on her, and she had heard the rumors about Ginny Webster, but she seemed intent on blaming Crystal for everything, as though Crystal were to blame for it all. She insisted frequently that her sister was making eyes at her husband, and Olivia had accused her more than once of encouraging him, which brought tears to Crystal’s eyes. She had done nothing to deserve their accusations, but she seemed helpless against them.

Even Jared turned on her. He had heard through one of his friends that she was visiting Boyd and his wife, and he threatened more than once to tell their mother. It was as though they all hated her, and she barely got from day to day, except for her visits with the Websters.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to them,” she cried openly one night when she went to them, after a day of anguish at the ranch house, “why do they hate me?” She did what she was told, she worked hard, she seldom fought with them, and yet they were determined to make her unhappy.

“Because you’re different,” Boyd answered quietly, as Hiroko held the baby. “You don’t look like them, you don’t think like them. You never did.” And her father was no longer there to protect her. She knew that what he said was true, but she couldn’t bear the injustice of it. What had she ever done to them? Nothing. But she had been born too beautiful. She was a wild summer rose in a field of weeds, and they were determined to destroy her.

She blew her nose as she thought about it. It was unbearable living with them, but she had nowhere else to go
and Boyd and Hiroko knew it, as did Crystal. The only thing she could do was leave the valley but she wanted to finish high school first. She had promised that to her father. She still thought about going to Hollywood. But it was too soon. She had to graduate first, if she survived it. But she knew she would. She wasn’t going to let people like her mother and Tom Parker run her life. There was too much of her father in her for that. She would put up with it all for now. But she knew that as soon as she finished school, she was leaving. No matter where she went, she knew that she had to leave the valley. She needed money to do it, and now that her father was gone, no matter how much she loved the valley, she knew she had to leave it. The others were just too strong a force to ignore forever. She knew she had to get out before one of them hurt her. And in order to get out, she had to make enough money to do it.

In January she went to work in town as a waitress. And even that won her mother’s fury. She called her a harlot and a slut and accused her of wanting to meet men, but all she did was wait on tables in the diner. Her brother-in-law came in occasionally and gave her a hard time, but whenever possible, she disappeared and went out to the kitchen to take a turn washing dishes when he was there. The people at the diner were friendly to her, and she made good money with tips, and got a fair number of propositions. She always played stupid, and turned them down bluntly when she had to, and the owner of the diner liked her, and made sure that no one went too far. She was a nice girl, and he had always liked her father. He didn’t think much of Tom Parker though, and he didn’t like the way he treated her. He told Crystal more than once to stay away from him when he was liquored up, and more than once he drove her home himself after dark, and watched to make sure she got home
safely to the ranch house. She kept her money hidden under her bed, and she had four hundred dollars saved up by late April. It was her ticket to Hollywood, or to freedom anyway, and she guarded it with her life, counting the money late at night, in the moonlight with her bedroom door locked. She was biding her time now till she could leave. It wouldn’t be long. But each day seemed like a lifetime.

Little Jane was a year old by then, and Crystal rode her old pinto over to see her on a bright Sunday morning. She spent the day with them, and it was late when she went home, but she knew the road well. And in the end, she decided to take a shortcut, riding over the fields, and smelling the air, as she sang her favorite old ballads softly. For the first time in a long time, she felt good again. Her father had been gone for more than a year, and the bitter ache of it was a little dimmer. She felt strong and young and alive, and all she could think of now was her future.

But as she tied her horse into his stall in the barn, and took off his saddle, as she hummed to herself, she heard a noise just behind her, and turned around, startled. It was Tom, sitting on a bag of feed and drinking.

“Have a nice day, Sis?” There was an ugly look in his eyes and she looked away, pretending not to notice, but her hands trembled as she put the bridle away, and she heard his step right behind her. “Where do you go on that old horse? Got a boyfriend in town?”

“No.” She turned to face him, and she didn’t like what she saw. His eyes were red, and she could see that the bottle he held was half empty. “I was visiting friends.”

“That Jap again?” He had heard the rumors, too, and he had told Becky, who had reported it to their mother.

“No,” she lied to him, “friends from school.”

“Yeah? Like who?” His voice was rough from drinking and hers was cool, but she was trembling inside.

“It’s not important.” She started to leave the barn, and he grabbed her roughly by the arm. He caught her unaware and she flew backward and tripped over his foot, stumbling to keep her balance.

“What’s your hurry?”

“I have to get home to Mama.” She tried to look him in the eye, but she was afraid to. Even as tall as she was, she was no match for Tom Parker. He liked to tell his friends he was as strong as a bull, and even bigger where it counted.

“Mama … isn’t that sweet,” he mocked her, “home to Mama. She don’t care. She’s with Becky anyway. The dumb bitch is knocked up again. Christ, you’d think she’d have learned by now. We hardly ever do it, and when we do, she gets pregnant.”

Crystal nodded sympathetically, trying to pull away from him, but he had her arms in a viselike grip and it was obvious he had no intention of letting her go anywhere, at least not for the moment.

“I told you to stick around, didn’t I?” She nodded, mute with terror. At seventeen, she had never been manhandled before, and it was small consolation to realize that if her father were alive, he’d have killed him. “Want a drink?”

“No, thanks.” Her face was white with fear as she shook her head.

“Sure you do.” He held both of her arms with one hand, and forced the bottle to her mouth with the other. He tipped it up, spilling it all over her shirt, but getting a fair dose of the bitter liquid through her clenched lips in spite of her efforts to resist him.

“Stop! Leave me alone … let me go!”

He laughed, watching her discomfort as tears filled her
eyes, and then suddenly he threw her down into a pile of hay they kept there for the horses.