Texas Heat (21 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Texas Heat
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“What about us?”
“It would be kind of hard to have a secret affair. That's what you're talking about, isn't it? I've lived in the shade too long, Rand. I want everything out in the bright light. I want the sun to smile down on me. I want to be happy with my choices.... I think we should both think about this some more.”
Rand laughed. “Ever practical Maggie. If that's what you want, so be it.”
Maggie smiled, then stood up and stretched. “I think we should be getting back. Why don't you take the car and see the house Amelia is working on? I know she'd be pleased to show it off to you.”
“Sounds like a good idea. What will you do?”
“Watch Suse sleep so she sees me first thing when she wakes up.”
“Mother Maggie.”
Maggie laughed. “Sometimes I surprise even myself. As soon as I knew she was coming, I had all her things brought down from the attic. The old canopy bed and her little dressing table. I thought she'd like that.”
“Home. There's no place like it.”
“You make it sound like you never had one.”
“Not like here. During the war we were shuffled from pillar to post, and half the time we lost most of our things. There was no permanence to anything then. The house I live in now is just a house. It has no character. There are no memories. It's a place to sleep.”
Maggie's eyes twinkled. “There's always room for one more at Sunbridge. You can call this home.”
“You'd run like hell if I moved in bag and baggage.”
“Right now I would. Who knows what I'll do later? It's something for both of us to think about.”
On the walk back to Sunbridge, Rand held Maggie's hand. When they were almost to the back garden, he stopped. “I think I'm falling in love with you, Maggie. I want you to be aware of that.”
Maggie raised her eyes. They brimmed with tears. “I'm aware.”
“And?” It was a tortured question.
Maggie shook her head. “Not now. I need time. Please understand.”
“I have all the time in the world. I can wait. And I will.”
“No one ever said that to me before.” Maggie's smile was as golden as the last rays of the sun.
“I left the keys in the car, so if you give me directions, I'll go on over to Amelia's and see how she's doing.”
Maggie took off her boots outside the study door, then walked softly inside and had a peek at Susan's peacefully sleeping face. The tea in the pot was still lukewarm, but she barely tasted it as she watched Susan sleep and thought about what had just happened.
It was out in the open now. She'd known it would be—from the moment she'd first heard his voice on the phone telling her he was bringing Susan back. How was she to handle this? The woman in her wanted to wait until everyone slept, to go to him in a froth of lace and silk, to stand in the moonlight in his room. The mother in her told her she would regret such actions. The daughter in her insisted it was her life to do as she pleased.
This would be no brief fling, no casual affair.
 
Rand, following Maggie's directions, turned onto the road leading to Amelia's new project. My, my, he found himself thinking, the Assantes are certainly hot for real estate. He wondered at Amelia's sudden need for a project, an interest. She'd always been keen on people, had forever been surrounded by interesting personalities. Now, married to Cary and supposedly still enthralled with newly wedded bliss, she'd adopted some sort of massive undertaking. Why?
The dark gray slate tiled mansard roof came into sight in the distance. The house stood alone, a sentinel guarding the expanse of surrounding land. Scaffolding climbed the clapboard exterior; men crawled about, scraping and painting what had been a dull yellow to a soft dove gray. The gingerbread fretwork was coming alive with a fresh coat of white.
Rand gave a low whistle as he looked through the windshield. This place must have cost a pretty penny, and obviously the restorations involved were mind-boggling. The house did have character, though; he'd give it that much.
“Rand! You devil! How good it is to see you,” Amelia cried as she wrapped her arms around him. “When did you get in? How was the trip? Is Susan all right? Lord, you get more handsome each time I see you, or is it only a mother's pride? . . . Well, say something.”
“Susan is fine—or will be, I'm sure. We got in a few hours ago. We had a smooth trip. And I'm no devil, but you're right; I'm handsome. How's it going?”
“Look around you and tell me what you think.”
“I see one hell of a big mess. Why didn't you just buy a new house?”
“Oh, Rand, I thought you'd understand,” Amelia said, disappointed. “I used to talk about this house to you when you were little. Don't you remember?”
“Of course I do. It's just that it looks like such a monstrous job. You must be spending a fortune. Are you planning on living here, or are you fixing it up as a shrine?”
Amelia's eyes clouded. Rand somehow had an uncanny knack of zeroing in on things. “I like shrines. I might live here, and then I might not. Does it make a difference?”
“Not to me it doesn't, but I should think it would to you. What's the bottom line?”
“It keeps me busy. It was Mam's house, and I think it should be preserved.”
“Let me ask you something, Mother. If you lived out-of-state and you came back to Texas, and this house and Sunbridge were both available to you, which would you choose to live in?”
“I don't feel like playing games, Rand. Come along. I want to show you what I've done. It's marvelous what the right people can do.”
Rand followed Amelia from room to room, listening while she droned on about what had been done to date and what still was in the works.
“It'll be fit for a king when I'm finished.”
“What about the queen?” Rand asked seriously.
Amelia laughed. “Wait till you see the chandelier. The crystals are coming from Bavaria. They promised delivery in December. Mam was always partial to this particular chandelier. She said it was like a fairyland when it was lighted.”
“What's your target date for completion?”
“Spring of next year, I think. I'm not rushing it.”
In that one instant Rand felt sorry for Amelia. In all the years since she'd taken him under her wing, he'd never pitied her. He felt confused and saddened. “If Cary doesn't want to live here,” he said, his voice purposely light, “you have a tenant waiting and ready to move in.”
“I think Cary will like it. When I first started the project, I would call him and he'd come by and we'd have a picnic lunch, but he's too busy now. He's out on the site and I can't bother him.”
“You must get lonely all day here by yourself.”
“Not at all. The workmen are here and we chat and have lunch around the same time. We're a congenial group.” Amelia laughed.
“I understand Cary's project is quite an undertaking. You must be very proud of him.”
“I am. You can't imagine how well he's doing. He loves it. The men like and respect him, even the
real
Texans—you know, the older ones.”
“Cary's a nice chap. What's not to like?”
“I was worried in the beginning that you two might not hit it off. I mean, he is younger than I.”
“Mother, if you're happy, then I'm happy.” He hesitated. “I would hope you'd feel the same about me.”
Amelia looked away. “Have you heard from Sawyer?” she asked pointedly.
“No. I didn't expect to. Have you?”
“No. Rand, you never told me what happened, and I never asked. I'd like to know so I don't say the wrong thing at the wrong time.”
He sighed. “It wasn't working. Sawyer deserves to have a family; she's young and full of life. I'm winding down and she should be revving up. So I had to let her go.”
“That sounds like the flipside of my situation with Cary,” Amelia said thoughtfully.
“You're wrong. Cary loves you madly and you love him. Sawyer and I never had that, not really. It just wouldn't have worked. Believe me, Mother, I wish it could have.”
“Enough. I'm sorry I brought up the subject. It's just that everyone is so sorry for Sawyer, and they think you dumped her.” Amelia grimaced. “I hate that word.”
“When it comes right down to it, Mother, it's no one's business but Sawyer's and mine.”
“I understand you're returning for Christmas. Sawyer won't come if you do.”
“Is that your way of telling me to stay away?” Rand asked.
“No. It's my way of telling you you've deprived Sawyer of her home. Everyone wants to go home for the holidays. Think about that.”
Rand nodded his head slightly. Then he kissed her and left without another word. Amelia watched him from the window. The moment his car turned at the corner, her shoulders slumped. She sat down on the window seat and brought her knees up to her chin.
She didn't need another problem right now. And Rand and Maggie would be the worst kind of problem. Did he think she was blind? Wanting and denial were worse, in her book, than all the sins in the world.
Trying to shake off Rand's visit wouldn't be easy. Tonight was going to be an at-home evening. When Cary had finally returned her calls, he'd told her not to expect him till after ten. She had two choices: she could either stay here and read a book or go home and pretend it didn't matter that Cary would be late.
Pretend. That's what her life was all about these days. If she hadn't asked her husband, she wouldn't have known his plans, would have spent the entire evening anticipating his arrival.
The lights were on now. The place looked messy, as if the job would never get done. But it would. She'd see to it, even if she had to spend money like a madwoman. Often the workmen looked at her as if she were crazy when she gave an order to rip something out that had twenty or thirty years of life left to it. Cary said he understood, but she also knew he looked in her ledger almost every day, keeping a running account of the money she spent.
The workers began to troop out one after another, calling good night over their shoulders. Home to families who waited for them. It was dinnertime, and here she was, all alone, in an empty house.
Damn it, she was lonely! What she wanted to do more than anything in the world right now was drive to Cary's construction site. She'd hoped that her husband would ask her to work in the trailer office answering the phone and ordering supplies. But he'd said it wouldn't look good if his wife worked on the site. As if she cared what anyone thought! But she didn't dare oppose Cary. He was happy having her here, puttering around, where he could find her at a moment's notice.
She'd felt restless these past few days, not in tune with herself. She wondered if it had anything to do with Susan's and Rand's return. Reminders of her age. She didn't want to have to stay cooped up at Sunbridge and hover over Susan, even though she loved her dearly. Fussing and fretting over Susan and worrying about Rand's possible affair with Maggie was simply not what she had in mind for herself. God, why did she feel so depressed?
Maybe she should lock up and go home. By the time she reached Sunbridge, dinner would be over and the kitchen cleaned up. The boys would be studying in their rooms. Rand, Maggie, and Susan would probably be in the study talking over after-dinner coffee. She'd say her hellos, give the proper hugs, then go upstairs. A long warm bath, a sexy gown, a drink, and she'd be ready for Cary. She could even call Billie; that always gave her a lift. And if Susan was still up afterward, she would visit with her.
When Amelia walked through the wide front doors of Sunbridge, her eyes, as always, went to the hat rack in the foyer. The sight of Riley's baseball cap always seemed so incongruous beside the Stetsons. But it brought a smile to her lips. Change.
The sound of subdued conversation and the soft clink of silver echoed out to the wide center hall. Taking a deep breath, she headed for the study. Susan lay propped up on the couch with an afghan covering her stomach and legs.
Immediately Amelia's heart went out to this girl who was like a daughter to her. She dropped to her knees, one hand fondly patting Susan's stomach as she pretended not to see the tears in Susan's eyes. Always before she'd been able to make things better for her niece. Not this time.
“Darling, how nice it is to see you. Under the weather, are we?” she said cheerfully. “Well, we'll have you right as rain in a week or so. All this Texas air has to be good for something. I'm glad you're here, sweetie. Imagine, a baby at Sunbridge,” she said, turning to face Maggie. “It's been years since a child's footsteps echoed in this old place. Since Sawyer. What a dear child she was! So good and yet so mischievous. Billie did try to keep her to the studio, but she liked to come here and run about, especially up and down the steps. To look at her now, you'd find it hard to believe she was such a precocious toddler. Smart! My dear, that child has brains she hasn't used yet.” When she saw Maggie flinch, she stood up, planted a kiss on Susan's brow, and said, “Well, I'm off to my avocado bath and thirty minutes in the Jacuzzi. Rand, tell Susan about my house. I'll fill you in on the details later. I'm going to call Billie. Does anyone want me to deliver any messages?”

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