Texas Heat (30 page)

“Subdued? I thought he was like the cat that ate the canary. I know him. Something went on yesterday, and we probably won't know what it is until he's ready to tell us.”

Back in the loft in front of the fire, Adam poured generously from the wine bottle. “Now, tell me, how are you? We've danced around it all week. It's time to talk.”

Sawyer's voice was flat, almost a monotone. “I feel like I'm in a holding pattern over hell. Does that explain it?”

“It explains the way you feel; it doesn't tell me what happened,” Adam said gently.

“There's not much to tell. Rand's having an affair with Maggie. I asked him point-blank and he didn't deny it.” She laughed bitterly. “Then I got drunk, very drunk. Cole found me early in the morning. That kid's okay, Adam, he really is. Maggie screwed him up just like she screwed me up. If there was a way I could take him away from her, I would,” Sawyer said grimly. “I've been thinking all week of having a talk with Cranston. Maybe we could strike up a deal.”

“You'd go that far to get back at Maggie?” Adam asked in awe.

“I'd go that far. Don't judge, Adam. Not until you've walked in my shoes.”

Marble, tired of warming herself by the fire, leaped onto Sawyer's lap, knocking the wineglass out of her hand. The cat immediately began licking the wine.

“Don't worry about it; she's been drunk before,” Adam laughed, and the tense moment was over.

“I'm not worried about the cat,” Sawyer grumbled good-naturedly. “What about my skirt?”

“Sponge it off. It's no big deal. That's the secret to life, you know. You have to know what's important and what isn't.”

“You really can be a nag, Adam. However, I love you dearly. I don't know how I could have made it through the week without you.”

“No thanks are necessary. Have some more wine. Do you think Marble's whiskers are turning gray?”

“Probably. She's old, or hadn't you noticed? Speaking of old, you should have seen the show Ms. Eileen Farrell put on for my aunt Amelia. She had her hooks out for Cary, but when she found out Rand was what she called ‘nobility,' she homed in on him. Aunt Amelia is so jealous, it oozes out of her pores. I had a few moments of feeling sorry for her, but I was so wrapped up in my own problems, I forgot about it till this minute. Cary is such a good-looking man. You know, I really believe he loves my aunt. She adores him, but she's playing the same game we all play, making her own hell. She's just waiting for the day he wants firm flesh and nubile breasts.”

“Did you ever think about talking to her? Maybe she needs an ear. We all do at one time or another.”

“Not my ear. I'm young. I'm the enemy. Grand is the one she'll talk to if she ever needs a confidante. I think we should eat something; I'm getting woozy from all this wine.”

“I'll cook if you clean up. I'm just as woozy, so you're taking a chance letting me cook. Of course, you don't know how to cook, so maybe you aren't taking a chance after all.”

“You're not woozy; you're blitzed.”

“So are you.”

Sawyer giggled. “I know. Just make sandwiches.”

“Fluffernutters okay with you? Those boys ate us out of house and home, and that's all that's left.”

“Sounds good to me. Put a dab of jelly on mine.”

“You got it,” Adam muttered as he went into the kitchen.

Sawyer watched him for a moment, then rubbed her eyes. She could hardly focus. Wine never did this to her before, and she was getting another one of her headaches. Too much excitement. She'd rest up tomorrow or go into the office and think about taking a vacation.

 

The New Year began for Maggie with a mixture of joy and sadness. Joy because Rand was staying on at Sunbridge, sadness because of Sawyer.

They played a little game, Rand and Maggie. By day, they enjoyed riding in the frosty winter air and made the rounds of holiday parties with Susan or Amelia and Cary. By night, they made love and slept in each other's arms.

It had been decided that Rand should remain at Sunbridge until Cole and Riley returned from New York. If there was to be any flak, Rand wanted to be there for his share instead of leaving Maggie to face it alone. When they did return, the day after New Year's, neither of the boys seemed to have much to say, but their sympathies clearly lay with Sawyer.

For once the two boys seemed to be in agreement about something. At times Maggie thought they were engaged in a conspiracy against her, although she knew they still didn't get along. Even Riley had changed toward her. Before the trip he'd always asked her how her day had gone, was interested in the daily workings of Sunbridge. In return, he'd share his day with her, air his views, and discuss his plans. Now he had nothing to share and little to say. Cole was so openly hostile, Maggie avoided his company altogether. Something about his bearing, in the way he looked at her, told her he'd found a way to strike back. Only in her darkest hours did she think of Sawyer, and when she did, Cole was always there in her thoughts. The two of them allies, children against their mother.

Aside from Rand, the only bright spot on Maggie's horizon was her divorce from Cranston. She could hardly wait to put it behind her. Once she was a free woman, she and Rand could bring their feelings for each other out in the open. Then, and only then, would they be able to face the family together, firm in their right to be together. Disapproval for other reasons, such as loyalty to Sawyer, would simply have to be ignored. Besides, they loved each other and didn't need anyone else's approval.

 

Just after New Year's the phone at Sunbridge shrilled to life. Maggie caught it on the fourth ring, taking her coat and hat off at the same time. A cheerful voice told her Cranston Tanner was calling long distance. When he came on the line, Maggie took a deep breath and said cheerfully, “Happy New Year, Cranston.” Then she waited.

“I've decided to sue for custody of Cole,” he said abruptly, not bothering to return her greeting. “You can fight me, Maggie, but it won't do you any good. Of course, that puts the divorce on hold for now. You'll want time to see your lawyers and time to speak to Cole. In the end it will be what Cole wants, and he wants his father.”

She'd been expecting it; she'd known Cole had been up to something when he'd returned from New York. “Why?” was all she said, all she could say.

“Because I'm getting married again and the boy deserves a family.”

“You said you weren't seeing anyone,” Maggie said hoarsely.

“That was in September. This is now. You could say I've found the love of my life. Cole will fit in nicely.”

“You don't want him; you're just trying to get back at me for rejecting you. I thought we came to an understanding. You said the divorce would come off on schedule and we'd do what was best for Cole for the second semester.”

“That's exactly what I'm doing. Cole can finish out the school year, then come here in June. This way he can spend as much time with Sawyer as he wants. I've spoken to Sawyer and she thinks it's a good idea.”

“Sawyer! What right do you have to...Damn you, Cranston! Sawyer has nothing to do with this.”

“Sawyer has everything to do with this. She's Cole's sister and probably the only person he really cares about. He came to visit me while he was in New York. He didn't tell you, did he?”

“No, he didn't, but I suspected. What did he tell you?”

“Enough so you'll never keep the boy. I'll win, Maggie. I always win. Look, I admire the fact that you've gotten your life together and stopped drinking. I'm glad that you're happy at Sunbridge. But you're no good for Cole. You never were. You weren't any good for Sawyer, either. You're not a mother. That about sums it up. Now, we can do it the easy way or the hard way.”

“You can go to hell, Cranston.”

“I expect I will someday. I'll probably see you there,” Cranston replied smoothly. “Nice talking to you, Maggie. Give my love to Cole.”

“You bastard!” Maggie screamed into the mouthpiece as she hung up.

“Who's a bastard?” Amelia asked. “God, I need a drink. Tonic water,” she added hastily.

“Have what you want. Other people drinking doesn't bother me. That was Cranston. He's going to try to take Cole away from me. He's getting married and he wants Cole to be able to see Sawyer as much as he wants. That girl has ruined my life. I can't even stand to hear her name anymore.”

“You don't mean that. You're upset.”

“Of course I'm upset, and you're right; I don't mean it. My bottom line is always Sawyer. I don't know how much more I can handle.”

“You'll handle whatever is dished out. That's how you survive. According to Cary, God never gives us more than we can handle. Personally, I sometimes have trouble believing it, but there must be truth in it because we're both here kicking and scratching. Was going to bed with Rand worth all of this? That's what it's all about and you know it.”

“Who I go to bed with is none of Cranston's business. If he's getting married, he's gone to bed with someone, too.”

“What are you going to do?” Amelia asked curiously.

“Spend a sleepless night and call Dudley Abramson first thing in the morning. I can't believe Cranston could be this cruel. I'm going to call Sawyer and give her a piece of my mind, and then I'm going to talk to Cole.”

Amelia finished her tonic water. She couldn't wait to get to her room so she could have a real drink. And think about the Christmas present Cary had given her. It had been delivered today, a gorgeous Persian rug, almost identical to the one her mother had said was in the library. The owner of the small store had delivered it himself, thrilled that it was going into such a beautiful house. She'd spent an hour with the little man, showing off her renovations. Then, something the carpet dealer had said burned in her brain till she couldn't take it anymore. “The young lady was very pleased with the carpet. She had the specifications all written down.” Amelia had sent the workmen home early and locked up.

My God, how she'd gushed and trilled to Cary about his wonderful gift! And that damn Eileen had just sat there looking smug while she'd made a fool of herself. What angered Amelia more than anything else was Cary's playacting, pretending that he'd trudged into the city and roamed and searched till he'd found the “perfect gift” for his beloved wife.

“I guess you'll want privacy for your call, so I'll toddle along upstairs,” Amelia said, shaking off her thoughts. “I expect Cary early this evening. Hopefully, in time for dinner. What's on the menu? That's the first thing he asks.”

“Beef stew and corn bread. Cherry pie. Martha made ice cream today. The boys seem to love it.”

“Great.” Cary would love it. “I'll see you at dinnertime.” As as afterthought she called over her shoulder, “I wouldn't worry too much, Maggie. Things will work out for the best, or at least the way they're meant to. I'll see you in a little while.”

Maggie waved absently, her mind already on the call to New York she was about to make. She dialed the operator, gave her Sawyer's business number, and made the call person-to-person from Coleman Tanner. The moment Sawyer's voice came on the wire, Maggie cried, “How could you go behind my back to conspire with Cranston? That wasn't what I meant by guts. I won't have a chance in hell of keeping Cole now. My God, how could you?”

Sawyer tried to listen, but her head was pounding so, she could barely make out Maggie's words.

“I really don't want to get involved with you and Cranston, Maggie,” she said. “Handle your own affairs. I thought I made that clear to you before I left.”

“Well, let me make this clear to you right now. Cole is off-limits to you. Don't call him and don't write to him.”

For several moments Sawyer stood there and listened to the dial tone, feeling as if she were going to be ill. If only she could get rid of this damn headache! Suddenly she gripped the edge of the desk and swayed.

Peter Andrews, on his way back from the water cooler, saw Sawyer sway. He quickened his step when he saw her loosen her grip on the desk. An instant later her knees buckled and she slid to the floor. He shouted for help. In twenty minutes Sawyer was on her way to the hospital. Peter personally undertook to notify Adam Jarvis and Sawyer's grandmother.

 

Amelia was on her way down to the library and the evening paper when the phone rang. Cary, of course. She'd known it even before she picked up the phone.

“Darling, I'm not going to make dinner. Keep something warm for me, will you? There're some things here I want to clean up tonight. Eileen's going to help me. I know we agreed to catch some television and lounge around this evening, but ... Amelia? You aren't angry, are you? I'll try to get out of here as soon as I can.”

“No, of course I'm not angry. You're missing a good dinner, but I'll keep yours warm. Beef stew gets better the longer it sits. We have homemade ice cream and cherry pie.”

“Oh, God, I can taste it now. Keep a light in the window. Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Amelia cried passionately. “The light will always be there for you. Drive carefully; the roads are slick.” The connection was broken; Amelia looked at the receiver for a long time before she replaced it.

 

“The temperature must have dropped outside,” Eileen complained. “I have all four heaters on, even the one in the bathroom. Are you sure you want to stay and finish this up, Cary?”