The Rogue (7 page)

“No,” he answered. “I guess I’d better get used to looking at men and seeing the way they covet my wife.”

“One more week and I will be your wife,” Diana murmured and let her head nestle against his shoulder.

Diana was as nervous as any bride on the dawning of her wedding day. There was no need. The ceremony was flawless. The ranch yard was crowded with
guests. Not even the summer heat could dampen the high spirits and festive atmosphere that claimed everyone. Rand was well known, and a lot of his important clients had attended the wedding and the reception. He and Diana were surrounded by several of them now, accepting the champagne toasts being offered in their behalf.

The Major was with them. Diana could tell by the look on his face that he was pleased she had married so well. It made her feel proud when she glanced at Rand, her husband.

As glasses were lifted in another toast, one of the men exclaimed, “Do you know I haven’t kissed the bride yet?”

“Neither have I,” a second chimed in.

More claimed to have neglected the same privilege. Diana knew better, but she said nothing. None of the men was offensive, nor did any attempt more than a friendly kiss. She obligingly submitted to each of them. As the last moved away, she tipped her head back for the next. The smile froze on her lips as she saw Holt Mallory standing in front of her.

“You are just in time, Holt,” the Major declared. “Diana is letting everyone who forgot to kiss the bride at the church make up for it now.”

The hard mouth twitched in a mocking smile. Holt made no response to the Major, but offered an exceedingly polite, “Good luck, Mrs. Cummings.” Briefly his head bent, his mouth insultingly cool against her lips. Then he was turning to Rand. “Congratulations.” He shook hands with her new husband.

Her lips were chilled by the feather touch of his, a touch so light, yet sufficient to prick the bubble of happiness she had felt. She hated him for spoiling her day, for making his presence known when he was aware how much she despised him. It didn’t matter that the Major would have noticed if Holt hadn’t come forward. She just knew she would never regain the special feeling that had been hers before he appeared.

Resentment shimmered in her eyes as she watched
Holt moving away. It was several seconds before Diana realized someone else was standing before her. A tall and gangly Guy bent his head and kissed her cheek.

“I hope you’ll be happy, Diana,” he mumbled and shifted uncomfortably, a faint blush staining his suntanned face.

“Thank you, Guy. I will.” She tried to sound sincere; but there was a bitterness in her tone left over from her encounter with Guy’s father.

“Yeah, well ...” He grimaced uncertainly and turned to Rand. There was nothing friendly in the look Guy gave him. “Congratulations.”

Awkwardly, Guy shook hands with Diana’s husband and moved quickly away, losing himself in the crowd as Holt had done. Diana stared after him for a second. Then Rand’s arm circled her waist and he murmured near her ear.

“Do you think I could kiss the bride?”

She forced a smile and lifted her head to him. “Of course.”

Diana stared out the porthole of the aircraft. In the distance below, she could see the smoky haze of the smelting plant north of Ely. Soon they would be landing and she would be home, this time for good.

Her hands were clasped in her lap, her thumb absently rubbing the finger where her wedding ring had been. The divorce decree was in her purse, dissolving the marriage that had lasted almost four years. The “NO SMOKING” light came on, indicating the plane’s final approach, and Diana leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes and wondering for the thousandth time where she had failed.

It had been so good in the beginning, filled with all the passion of new lovers discovering each other. It had burned too hot too quickly. Trouble began brewing under the supposedly blissful surface in less than a year. At first Diana had accepted the bitter arguments as something every new couple experienced, and had ignored the vicious accusations as something that would go away when they learned to trust each other.

When she realized they were warning signals, it was already too late. She fought to the bitter end to save the marriage, refusing Rand’s demands for a divorce and enduring more than a year of separate bedrooms. Finally Rand had taken the situation out of her hands and the whole affair had become messy and ugly.

The wheels bumped once on the runway, then rolled smoothly forward. Diana opened her eyes and sat up straighter in the seat. Once the combination of black hair and blue eyes had made her strikingly attractive. Maturity had added beauty. She looked out the window as the plane taxied to the small terminal building.

When it rolled to a stop on the cement apron, she joined the few other departing passengers standing in the aisle. It was April and the morning sun was pleasantly warm as she walked down the steps of the ramp.

Entering the building, Diana glanced around, but recognized no one in the miniature terminal. Was the Major so upset that he hadn’t sent someone to meet her? Her chin lifted a bit, a defense mechanism against the pain of the thought. It was more than two years since she had been home, two years of wanting to go but postponing the trip until things got better between her and Rand.

“Diana.”

She stared at the young man who seemed to know her. Tall and leanly muscled, he had hair the color of desert sand and light blue eyes. He stepped forward, dressed in crisp new Levi’s and a clean white shirt.

“Welcome home,” he offered in a low voice husky with emotion.

Diana stared at the sensitivity of his mouth and his slightly tousled hair, cowlicks tamed by the weight and length of it. Disbelief trembled through her.

“Guy?” She identified him hesitantly and laughed naturally for the first time in months when she realized she was right. “Guy! I can’t believe it’s really you. You’ve changed so.”

“You haven’t.” His grip was fierce as he held both of her hands, his look as adoring as it had always been.

His comment sobered her. “I have changed, Guy,” Diana corrected him quietly.

“How are you?” His concerned gaze searched her face, noting the strain and tension through the paper-thin mask of composure.

“I’m fine,” Diana lied. She felt broken, her world scattered like pieces of a puzzle. She didn’t think the picture would look the same when she put it all together again. “I never expected the Major would send you to meet me,” she said, changing the subject.

“Who else? Wasn’t I always your slave?” Guy teased, but there was something very serious in his eyes.

She realized he was still holding her hands, and she gently withdrew them from his grasp. “I guess you were.” She smiled and pretended, too, that it was a joke. “Where are you parked?”

“Right outside. We can pick up your luggage when we leave.”

“It should be there now.” She looked around but didn’t see any of the passengers who had been on the plane with her. Besides the ticket agent and the security guard, the only other people in the one-room terminal building seemed to be waiting to board the flight out.

“I guess so,” Guy agreed as he also became aware that they were the last to leave. Outside, only her two suitcases were sitting under the sheltered canopy. “Is this all?”

“Yes. The rest of my things will be arriving by freight in a day or two.”

As he carried her luggage to the car, Diana studied him. Except for his coloring, there was little about him that resembled the pale, thin boy who had arrived at the ranch ten years ago.
Ten years ago,
she thought. That would make Guy nineteen. She hadn’t seen him the last time she was home. She’d come only for the weekend, and he had been off somewhere on the ranch checking fences.

The last time Diana had seen him, Guy had just turned sixteen. He had been thin and gangly then. He had muscled out and become a good-looking young man, not handsome in the classic way Rand had seemed. There was something very fresh and clean about Guy, and Diana felt strangely tainted in contrast.

“What’s the matter?” Guy frowned and Diana realized he had noticed her staring.

“I was thinking about what a stinking mess I’ve made of my life.” There was a soft, bitter sigh in her voice as she climbed into the cab of the pickup.

Guy closed her door and paused beside it. “Everybody makes mistakes, Diana.”

It was more than a mistake. She had failed utterly and miserably, but she appreciated his attempt to console her. “Some are just bigger than others.” A tense smile curved her lips. “Right?”

“That’s the idea.” Guy returned the smile and walked around the front of the truck to climb into the driver’s seat. Leaving the airport, he turned south on the highway. “Do you want to stop in town for coffee or something to eat?”

Diana shook her head. “No. I just want to go to the ranch.”

“I’m glad you’ve come home.”

“So am I.” She should never have left, but there was nothing to be gained by dwelling on that. “How are things?”

“Fine.”

Diana glanced at him. The strong profile reminded her of his father. “How are you and Holt getting along?” she asked, remembering the estrangement between them, aided many times by her.

“We’re getting along better.” There was a self-mocking twist of his mouth. “I guess you could say we’ve learned to tolerate each other. Holt is a hard man to get to know. I’ve never been able to figure out what goes on inside him or why he bothered with me. Guilt, I suppose.”

Diana had difficulty imagining Holt Mallory feeling guilty about anything. She suddenly didn’t want to discuss him.

“How’s the Major?”

“Improving.” Guy slowed the truck to turn at the signal light.

“Improving? What do you mean?” She frowned.

“Didn’t you know?” he questioned with a surprised look. “The Major had another bad spell a couple of months ago.”

A cold chill ran down her spine. She stared sightlessly ahead at the road. “No, I didn’t know. He hasn’t even hinted that he wasn’t feeling well, not in his letters or when I talked to him on the phone. Why didn’t someone let me know? It was Holt’s place. Why didn’t he?”

“Maybe he thought you knew.” Guy wasn’t attempting to defend his father, merely offering a possibility.

“Two months ago. That’s when I finally told the Major Rand and I were having problems,” Diana remembered aloud.

“That had nothing to do with it.” Guy seemed to follow her train of thought. “The Major had been overdoing it. We had a long cold spell at calving time, and we were all working pretty hard to keep our losses down.”

Diana let herself be convinced that Guy was right. “How did he take it when he learned about Rand and me?”

“He was pretty philosophical about it. Naturally he was upset for you, but ...” Guy hesitated. “Why did you marry him, Diana?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and looked out the window. “I guess I thought I loved him. Rand was handsome and intelligent and successful. He wanted to marry me, and the Major liked him. I don’t know why I married him,” she repeated. “Maybe I just wanted someone to love me.”

After that, they rode in silence for a long stretch of miles. The highway wound over a mountain pass through a desert forest of stunted pines, down to a valley of sage and grass. When they talked again, it was about unimportant things; they were both carefully avoiding the painful subjects.

At the end of the hour-long drive, Guy turned into the ranch yard and stopped in front of the main house.
Diana stared at her childhood home. She had half-expected to see the Major walk onto the porch to meet her when he heard the truck drive in, but the porch was empty.

“Diana?”

Guy was holding the cab door open, waiting for her to step out. She did, running a nervous hand over her tailored skirt.

“Go ahead,” he prompted when she hesitated beside him. “I’ll bring your suitcases.”

He was only a few paces behind her when Diana entered the house. Everything looked exactly the same as when she had lived there. Not even the furniture had been rearranged. There was a lump in her throat as she looked around. The housekeeper appeared from the hallway that led to the kitchen.

“Hello, Sophie.” The woman didn’t look a day older to Diana.

“Hello, Miss. The Major’s in his room, resting.”

“How is he?”

“Fine, but the doctor insists he spend a couple of hours every morning and every afternoon lying down,” the woman explained. “You go on to his room.” Sophie glanced at Guy, standing just inside the door, suitcases in hand. “I’ll show Guy where to put your luggage.”

Now that the moment had come, Diana realized she was apprehensive about facing the Major. She felt like the prodigal daughter returning, uncertain how she would be greeted. Her gaze slid to Guy, who in his quiet way had been so supportive this last hour.

“Go ahead.” He smiled. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Thanks for meeting me at the airport,” Diana offered, then hurried to her father’s room before she lost her courage.

The door was closed and she rapped once, waiting until she heard a crisp, male voice give her permission to enter. The Major was lying atop the quilt cover of his bed, fully clothed.

“Diana.” He smiled. “I thought I heard the truck
outside and wondered if it was you.” He made no attempt to rise from the bed at her approach.

“Hell, Major.” Impulsively, Diana leaned down to kiss his cheek. “How are you?”

“Fine.” He patted her hand resting on his arm. But Diana could see that illness had taken its toll on this once vigorous man. He had lost weight, although still physically fit, and his color was not as good. His once-dark hair was now almost completely iron-gray. The muscles in her throat constricted. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the airport to meet you,” he offered, pulling a wry face. “I’ve been told I have to get my rest. It isn’t easy to take orders when you are used to giving them.” His eyes were just as sharp as ever and they studied her closely. “But what I want to know is, how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Diana lied, not for the first time, and turned to walk away from the bed, hugging her arms about her. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears as she stared at the ceiling. “I’ve let you down, haven’t I?”