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“Thanks, Stuart,” she said, the words slurring as the powerful medication did its job.
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I know a thing or two about migraines.”
“And she taught you a thing or two about seeing the doctor for medicine that actually helped them,” Merrie couldn’t resist saying.
He didn’t reply. His eyes were on Ivy’s face as she went to sleep. He lifted the washcloth and took it away. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing regulated. He was glad that the cover was up to her chin, so that he didn’t have to see that perfect body again and lie awake all night remembering it.
He got up from the bed, gently so as not to awaken her, the washcloth still clutched in his hand.
“That was nice of you, to get her something to take,” Merrie said as they left Ivy’s room.
He shrugged. “I know how it feels.”
“How did you come out in Oklahoma?” she asked.
“Everything’s ready for the auction,” he replied. “I still can’t believe they let me down like that at the Jacobsville sales barn.”
“They don’t have a history of messing up the different lots of cattle they sell,” she said in their defense.
“One mistake that big can be expensive,” he reminded her. “In this economic climate, even we have to be careful. Losing the Japanese franchise hurt us.”
“It hurt the Harts and the Dunns worse,” she replied. “They’d invested a lot in organic beef to send over there. They were sitting in clover when the ban hit.”
“But they recovered quickly, and so did we, by opening up domestic markets for our organic beef. This organic route is very profitable, and it’s going to be even more profitable when people realize how much it contributes to good health.”
“Our signature brand sells out quickly enough in local markets,” she agreed.
“And even better in big city markets,” he replied. “How’s school?”
She grinned. “I’m passing everything. In two years, I’ll be working in a ward.”
“You could come home and go to morning coffees and do volunteer work,” he reminded her with a smile.
She shook her head, returning the smile. “I’m not cut out for an easy, cushy life. Neither are you. We come from hardworking stock.”
“We do.” He bent and brushed his mouth over her cheek. “Sleep tight.”
“Are you home for the weekend?”
He glanced at her. “Are you wearing body armor?”
“You and Ivy could get along for two days,” she pointed out.
“Only if you blindfold me and gag her.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It’s an in-joke,” he said. “I have to fly to Denver tomorrow to give a speech at the agriculture seminar on the subject of genetically engineered grain,” he added.
She grimaced. “Don’t come home with a bloody nose this time, will you?”
He shrugged. “I’m only playing devil’s advocate,” he told her. “We can’t make it too easy on people who want to combine animal cells and vegetable cells and call it progress.” His pale eyes began to glitter. “One day, down the road, we’ll pay for this noble meddling.”
She reached up and touched his face. “Okay, go slug it out with the progressives, if you must. I’ll treat Ivy to the new Imax movie about Mars.”
“Mars?”
“She loves Mars,” Merrie told him.
“I’d love to send her there,” he replied thoughtfully. “We could strap her to a rocket...”
“Stop that. She’s my best friend.”
He shook his head. “The things I do for you,” he protested. “Okay, I’ll settle for sending her to the moon.”
“She’s only just lost her father, her house and she’ll soon lose her inheritance as well,” she said solemnly. “I could strangle Rachel for what she’s done.”
He could have strangled Rachel himself, for the lies she’d fed him about Ivy. He should have known better. She’d never been forward with men, to his knowledge. He was certain now that she wasn’t. But he wondered why Rachel would make a point of downgrading her to him. Perhaps it was as Ivy said—her sister wanted him to stay out of the probate of her father’s will. Poor Ivy. She’d never get a penny if Rachel had her way.
“You look very somber,” Merrie observed.
“Ivy should have had the house, at least,” he said, betraying the line of his thoughts.
“She couldn’t have lived there, even if she’d inherited it,” she told him. “There’s no money for utilities or upkeep. She can barely keep herself in school and pay her rent.”
His eyes narrowed. “We could pay it for her.”
“I tried,” Merrie replied. “Ivy’s proud. She won’t accept what she thinks of as charity.”
“So she works nights and weekends to supplement that pitiful amount of money her aunt left her,” he grumbled. “At least one of those mechanics she keeps books for is married and loves to run around with young women.”
“He did ask Ivy out,” Merrie replied.
He looked even angrier. “And?”
“She accidentally dropped a hammer on his foot,” Merrie chuckled. “He limped for a week, but he never asked Ivy out again. The other men had a lot of fun at his expense.”
He felt a reluctant admiration for their houseguest. If she’d been older, his interest might have taken a different form. But he had to remember her age.
“Rachel called her today harping about the probate,” she said slowly. “I expect that’s why she had the migraine. Rachel worries her to death.”
“She needs to learn to stand up to her sister.”
“Ivy isn’t like that. She loves Rachel, in spite of the way she’s been treated by her. She doesn’t have any other relatives left. It must be lonely for her.”
“She’ll toughen up. She’ll have to.” He stretched. “I’m going to bed. I probably won’t see you before I leave. I’ll be back sometime Monday. You can reach me on my cell phone if anything important comes up.”
“Chayce handles the ranch very well. I expect we’ll cope,” she said, smiling. “Have fun.”
“In between fistfights, I might,” he teased. “See you.”
“See you.”
He went back to his room and closed the door. He had to put Ivy out of his mind and never let history repeat itself. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have himself photographed with some pretty socialite. He didn’t like publicity, but he couldn’t take the chance that Ivy might warm up to him.
He recalled reluctantly the dossier a private detective had assembled on Ivy’s father. The man had been a closet alcoholic and abusive to his late wife as well as Ivy, although he’d never touched Rachel. He’d wanted to know why Ivy had backed away from him once when he’d been yelling at one of the cowboys. He was never going to tell her what he’d learned. But he was careful not to yell when she was nearby. Still, he told himself, he had to discourage her from seeing him as her future. It would be a kindness to kill this attraction before it had a chance to bloom. She was years too young for him.
The rest of the weekend passed without incident. The two women worked on Merrie’s anatomy exam. They watched movies and shared their dreams of the future. On Monday morning, Merrie dropped Ivy off at the local college on her way to San Antonio.
“I’ll phone you the next time I have a free weekend,” Merrie promised as they parted. “Don’t let Rachel make you crazy, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Ivy said, smiling. “It was a lovely weekend. Thanks.”
“I had fun, too. We’ll do it again. See you!”
“See you!”
* * *
Ivy spent the week daydreaming about what had happened in the guest room at Merrie’s house. The more she relived the torrid interlude with Stuart, the more she realized how big a part of her life he was. Over the years she’d been friends with Merrie, Stuart had always been close, but in the background. Because of the age difference, he didn’t really hang out in the places that Merrie and Ivy frequented. He was already a mature man while they were getting through high school.
But now, with those hard, insistent kisses, everything between them had changed. Ivy had dreams about him now; embarrassing, feverishly hot dreams of a future that refused to go away. Surely he had to feel something for her, even if it was only desire. He’d wanted her. And she’d wanted him just as much. It was a milestone in her young life.
But toward the end of the week, as she waited in line at the grocery store to pay for her meager purchases, she happened to look at one of the more lurid tabloids. And there was Stuart, with a beautiful, poised young woman plastered against his side, looking up at him adoringly. The caption read, Millionaire Texas Cattleman Donates Land to Historical Trust. Apparently the woman in the photo was the daughter of a prominent businessman who was head of the trust in question. She was a graduate of an equally prominent college back east. The article went on to say that there was talk of a merger between the millionaire and the socialite, but both said the rumors were premature.
Ivy’s heart shattered like ice. Apparently Stuart hadn’t been as overwhelmed by her as she had been by him, and he was making it known publicly. She had no illusions that the story was an accident. Stuart knew people in every walk of life, and he numbered publishers among his circle of friends. He wanted Ivy to know that he hadn’t taken her seriously. He’d chosen a public and humiliating way to do it, to make sure she got the point. And she did.
Merrie called her to ask if she’d seen the story.
“Oh, yes,” Ivy replied, her tone subdued.
“I don’t understand why he’d let himself be used like that,” Merrie muttered irritably. It was obvious that she knew nothing of what had happened between her brother and her best friend, or she’d have said so. She never pulled her punches.
“Even the most reclusive person can fall victim to a determined reporter,” Ivy said in his defense. “Maybe the photographer caught him at a weak moment.”
“Maybe he’s giving a public cold shoulder to some woman who’s pursuing him, too,” Merrie said innocently. “It would be like him. But there hasn’t been anybody in his life lately. Nobody regular, I mean. I’m sure he takes women out. He just doesn’t get serious about any of them.”
“How did you do on your exam?” Ivy asked, deliberately changing the subject.
“Actually, I passed with flying colors, thanks to you.”
“You’re welcome,” came the pert reply. “You can do the same for me when I have my finals.”
“That won’t be for a while yet. Coming over next weekend?”
Ivy thought quickly. “Merrie, I promised my roommate that I’d drive up to Dallas with her to see her mother. She doesn’t like to make that drive alone.” It wasn’t the whole truth. Lita had asked her to go, and Ivy had promised to think about it. Now, she was sure that she’d agree.
“Well, it’s nice of you to do it.” There was a pause. “I’m not going to be able to come home much, once I take the job I’ve been offered at the hospital here. I’ll be working twelve-hour shifts four days a week, and a lot of them will be on weekends.”
“I understand,” Ivy said quickly, thankful that she wouldn’t have to come up with so many excuses to escape seeing Stuart again. “When I graduate, I’ll be doing some weekend work myself, I’m sure. But when I can afford a car, I can drive up to see you and we can go to a movie or out to eat or something.”
“Of course we can.” There was a pause. “Ivy, is anything wrong?”
“No,” she said at once. “The lawyer is ready to hand over Dad’s estate to Rachel. I’m to get a small lump sum. Maybe Rachel will leave me alone now.”
“I hope so. Please keep in touch,” Merrie added.
“I will,” Ivy agreed. But she crossed her fingers. It was suddenly imperative that she find a way to avoid Stuart from now on. She couldn’t afford to let her heart settle on him again, especially now that he’d made his own feelings brutally clear. She’d miss Merrie, but the risk was too great. Broken hearts, she assured herself, were best avoided.
4 (#ulink_e3fb7284-874e-5ffe-9605-91597e6bed50)
Two years later...
“Ivy, would you like a cup of coffee while you work?” her latest client asked from the doorway of the office where she was writing checks and balancing bank statements.
She looked up from her work, smiling, her long blond hair neatly pinned on top of her head. Her green eyes twinkled. “I’d love one, if it isn’t too much trouble,” she said.
Marcella smiled back. “I just made a pot. I’ll bring it in.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s no trouble at all, really. You’ve saved me from bankruptcy!”
“Not really. I just discovered that you had more money than you thought you did,” she replied.
The older woman chuckled. “You say it your way, I’ll say it mine. I’ll bring the coffee.”
Ivy contemplated the nice office she was using and the amazing progress she’d made in the past two years since her disastrous weekend at Merrie’s house. She’d been able to give up the part-time job at the garage when Dorie Hart offered her a bookkeeping service, complete with clients. Dorie had enjoyed the work very much, and she’d kept handling the books for her clients long after her marriage to Corrigan Hart. But her growing family kept her too busy to continue with it. Ivy had been a gift from heaven, Dorie told her laughingly. Now she could leave her clients in good hands and retire with a clear conscience.
Dorie had some wonderful accounts. There was a boutique owner, a budding architect, the owner of a custom beef retail shop, an exercise gym and about a dozen other small businesses in Jacobsville. Ivy had met the businesspeople while she was in her last semester of college, when Dorie had approached her with the proposal. Dorie and Lita, who carpooled with Ivy, were friends. Lita had mentioned Ivy’s goals and Dorie had gone to see her at the boardinghouse. It had been an incredible stroke of good luck. Ivy had resigned herself to working in a C.P.A. firm. Now she was a businesswoman in her own right.
And as if her blessings hadn’t multiplied enough, she’d also volunteered to do the occasional article for the Jacobs County Cattlemen’s Association in what little free time she had. She would have done it as a favor to the Harts, since Corrigan was this year’s president, but they wouldn’t hear of it. She got a check for anything she produced. Like her math skills, her English skills were very good.
Merrie was nursing at a big hospital in San Antonio. The two spoke on the phone at least twice a month, but they stayed too busy for socializing. Ivy had never told her friend what had happened that last night she spent under Stuart’s roof. She never asked about Stuart, either. Merrie seemed to sense that something had gone wrong, but she didn’t pry. She didn’t talk about her brother, either.
Autumn turned the leaves on the poplars and maples beautiful shades of gold and scarlet. Ivy felt restless, as if something was about to change in her life. She did her job and tried not to think about Stuart York, but always in the back of her mind was the fear of something unseen and unheard. A premonition.
There was a party to benefit a local animal shelter, which Shelby Jacobs had organized. Ivy wouldn’t have gone, but Sheriff Hayes Carson was on the committee that had planned the party, and he was showing an increasing interest in Ivy.
She didn’t know if she liked it or not. She was fond of Hayes, but her heart didn’t do cartwheels when he was around. Maybe that was a good thing.
When he showed up at her boardinghouse late one Friday afternoon, she sat on the porch swing with him. Her room contained little more than a bed and a vanity, and she was uncomfortable taking a man there. Hayes seemed to know that, because he sat down in the swing with no hesitation at all.
“We’re having the benefit dance next Friday night,” he told her. “Go with me.”
She laughed nervously. “Hayes, I haven’t danced in years. I’m not sure I even remember how.”
His dark eyes twinkled. “I’ll teach you.”
