by Janet Dailey
“Ty was right when he said Cathleen would sleep through it if he didn’t try to be quiet,” Maggie remarked in an amused tone as they walked to their bedroom together. At his silence, she lifted her gaze and probed his face. “Chase, surely you’re not angry with Ty for coming home drunk, are you?”
He opened the door to their bedroom and let her pass, his cool eyes briefly meeting hers. “Are you happy to know your son is drunk and passed out in his bed?” he countered.
“I’m not happy about it.” It seemed a ridiculous question to Maggie. “But it doesn’t upset me either.” With a ripple of impatience, she untied the knotted belt of her robe. “You’re too hard on Ty. You always expect too much from him. Let him be young and enjoy himself while he can.”
“It’s always my fault, isn’t it?” Chase gave her a look that was grim and calm. “I’m always too hard on him, but you’re never too soft.”
“I’m not soft. I simply understand—”
“And I don’t?” he challenged.
“I never said that,” Maggie denied and swung away from him, hating this quarreling. “You have to stop trying to mold him into your way of thinking.”
There was a long silence, and Maggie waited for the explosion of angry words—the oft-repeated argument over their son. Instead, there came a loud breath, indrawn and released in a heavy sigh. Chase wadded up his shirt and threw it in a corner.
“We can’t talk about this without arguing, can we, Maggie?” He sounded so tired and weary. When she turned to look at him, Chase was watching her, the width of the room separating them. “We’re both so damned sure we’re right.”
“I guess so.” Unconsciously holding her breath, she waited for him to take that first step that would send her into his arms. She waited, but he didn’t take it.
The moment of conciliation was lost, both of them bound by pride. “We’d better get some sleep.” Chase finally broke apart the gaze and moved toward his side of the bed.
The bedsheets felt cold when Maggie slipped between them, too far away from Chase’s body to be warmed by it. She ached inside, gnawed by the worry that Chase had offered her a compromise and she hadn’t recognized it.
Summer passed quickly into September and Ty’s last year at college. Only one clear memory of that night went with him—the scene with his father and Sally Brogan. The knowledge created an awkwardness in his relationship with both of his parents. When it came time to leave for college, he was glad to go.
After he arrived at the fraternity house, Ty made a desultory stab at unpacking before the anticipation of seeing Tara again got the better of him and he headed out of the room to the telephone. The hall was crowded with returning members, carting in luggage, tennis rackets, golf clubs, radios, and assorted vital items. He was constantly waylaid by arriving friends, shouting greetings and demanding to know how the hell he was.
“Hey, Ty!” He was nearly to the phone when he was hailed by another voice. He swung around with a trace of impatience, then broke into a smile when he recognized Jack Springer, who had become his closest friend at the university. “I was just on my way to look you up. Sappy told me you got in this afternoon.”
“Yeah. Haven’t even finished unpacking,” Ty admitted, unconsciously edging closer to the phone. “How was your summer?”
“Hot and long, as usual.” Springer’s father owned a ranch in hill country outside of Austin. Ty had spent some weekends on it when Tara was otherwise engaged. It was a good-sized spread, a combination of a breeding operation and a game preserve, but it would have taken up only a corner of the Triple C. “Let’s you and I clear outa here, grab us a couple of long necks and a pizza, and make a night of it.”
“It sounds okay to me, but there’s a call I gotta make first. I might be tied up.” Ty hoped he was. It had been too long since he’d seen Tara.
A knowing look stole into the expression of the slimly built man. “Can’t even finish unpacking before you phone a certain lady, huh?”
“Something like that.” Ty grinned.
“If you’re calling who I think you are, let me spare you a rejection. She’s busy tonight,” Jack informed him.
His statement made the smile fade on Ty’s face. “How can you be so sure about that?”
“’Cause there’s some big dinner going on tonight at the governor’s mansion.”
“So?” Ty frowned, his eyes narrowing.
“Tara will be there with her senator beau.” His tone was both chiding and commiserating. “One of the problems with living in your isolated corner of Montana is you don’t keep up to date. Tara Lee has grown weary of campus society and started traveling in more exalted circles.”
“What do you mean?” A hard knot formed in the pit of his stomach.
“The newspapers around here have been filled with items about Tara Lee Dyson and the young and attractive bachelor Senator Mason Dodd the Third. I left out that his daddy willed him a fortune in oil stocks. The two of them have been the talk of Austin all summer.”
Ty glanced at the telephone, wanting to pick it up and call her, find out for himself whether what Jack was saying was the truth or not.
“She dates a lot of people. It doesn’t mean anything,” he said.
“Once I would have agreed with you, but she’s moved into the big time now. Come on, Ty. Surely you can see it. She’s gone through this campus with a fine-tooth comb and raked off the guys who had something going for them—from star athletes to the big shots. She’s made her conquests here, so now she’s moving on to bigger game,” Jack insisted. “You might as well forget about her the way all the rest of us have.”
“That sounds like sour grapes to me, Jack,” Ty accused.
“Hey, I’ve never pretended that I wouldn’t have been dripping at the chance to walk behind the barn with her. Hell, she wouldn’t even have to crook her finger. I’ve taken my swipes at the string she trailed in front of me, but I’m smart enough to know she isn’t going to let it lie there long enough for me to catch hold of it. And you should be, too.”
“It isn’t the same.” He loved her. One way or another, he was determined to have her.
“It’s the same all right. You’re just too damned stubborn to admit it.” The sandy-haired man shook his head in mock despair. “I’m just trying to be a friend, so it doesn’t matter if you like what I’m saying or not. Little Miss Tara Lee gravitates to power like a duck to water. With a daddy like hers, she was raised to it. No one on campus is important enough for her to bother with now, including you.”
The prediction didn’t turn out to be entirely true. Tara usually attended any important social functions on campus with Ty as her escort, but most of her social life was centered off campus. Her dates ranged from young men holding political office to important lobbyists.
As graduation approached, the beginnings of desperation took hold of Ty. Another evening was drawing to a close. Standing alone with her on the private patio behind the Dyson home, he knew there weren’t many chances left. He took a deep pull on his cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs, exhaling it finally through his nose in twin spirals. He felt a hand on his arm. Tara had a way of touching him with her fingertips that commanded all his attention.
“Ty Calder, I don’t think you’ve been listening to a word I’ve been saying,” she accused in her soft, drawling voice.
“That’s only half true,” he murmured, studying her through half-closed eyes in an attempt to screen the blatant desire he felt. “I’ve been listening to the sound of your voice. It reminds me of raindrops falling softly.”
“Ty.” The pressure of her hand increased slightly on his arm as a pleased smile radiated across her features. “You make a girl feel very special.”
“You are very special—to me.” He dropped the cigarette onto the cobbled patio and crushed it under his toe. “With a little encouragement, I’d consider telling you all the ways you’re special to me.” He slid an arm around her narrow waist and made a quarter turn to
face her and link his hands together behind her back, “It might take all night, though.”
“I’ll bet you’d make sure it did.” She laughed throatily and ran her fingers under the lapels of his jacket. She looked at him through the upward sweep of her dark lashes. “Did I tell you that Douglas Stevens will be asked to join the diplomatic staff at the American embassy in France?”
“No.” Ty couldn’t have cared less where the man was being sent.
“Rumor has it that he’s being given an important post.” She continued sliding her fingers along his lapel. “With Doug there, I’ll be able to stay at the embassy while I’m in France, and probably attend a lot of the functions.”
“Is that important to you?”
“Important? I’m not sure I know what you mean by that.” She tilted her head at a beguiling angle, the velvety darkness of her hair blending into the midnight black making a cameo of her face. “It will certainly be an unforgettable experience. How many other girls would have a chance like that?”
“Not many, I suppose.” Her smoothly innocent reply made him feel churlish for harboring any resentment. “I guess it’s the idea of you seeing more of Stevens that I don’t like.”
“Jealous,” she teased.
“Yes.”
Tara laughed softly. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised at your bluntness,” she declared. “You always seem to say what you feel.”
“Like I love you,” Ty stated. When she started to cover his mouth to keep him from saying more, he caught her hand and held it against his chest. “No. I’m running out of time to say all the things I want to say to you. I won’t have many more chances to see you before graduation.”
“It’s very late, Ty. Daddy will be wandering out here any minute to shoo us inside so he can lock up for the night,” she warned him, but he saw the glitter of excitement in her eyes and knew she wasn’t really protesting.
“I can sum it all up in one phrase, Tara,” he assured her huskily. “I love you.”
“Ty—”
There was a hint of withdrawal in her voice, so he didn’t take any chances about what her response might be. His head bent to cover her lips with the hungry warmth of his mouth. He tasted the honeyed gloss of her lips, pliant under his persuasive kiss.
“Tell me one thing.” He rolled his mouth across her cheek, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin.
“What?” Her smallness was shaped against his hunched frame, her body bending like a supple willow. His roaming hands caressed the delicate curve of her spine and the rounded shape of her hips. The thin silk of her dress hid nothing of her body from him.
“Why have you kept me around? Why haven’t you dropped me the way you did all the others?”
Her hesitation seemed sincere, as if she weren’t certain of the answer. “You’re not like them. There’s something about you that’s different.”
“Maybe you love me?” he suggested and lifted his head slightly, their breath mingling warmly.
“Maybe I do.” The breathy softness of her voice stirred him.
There was a break in her defenses; a concession had been made that hadn’t been offered before. This time he kissed her man to woman with no artifice of persuasion or appeal. She responded warmly, but he sensed her struggle to keep from becoming too aroused. It was this vague reluctance he tried to batter down and insist she give herself freely to the passions that trembled through her body. But the more demanding he became, the less progress he made.
Tremors were shuddering through him when he finally ended the kiss. Tara swayed against him and bowed her head against his shoulder. An exultant smile lifted the corners of his mouth as his hands shaped her more fully to his length.
“You have to marry me now, Tara.” The proposal seemed an echo of something from the past, familiar and used.
“Ty ...” She lifted her head. This time he pressed a silencing finger to her lips, then reached into the outside pocket of his jacket.
“I had this made for you,” he said. “I had to guess at the size, so I hope it fits.”
Her small gasp of delight was a beautiful sound to him, worth more than any words to express the genuineness of her pleasure. The patio torchlights caught the fire in the black opal, set inside a protective circle of diamonds.
“You had this made for me?” She seemed dazzled by it. Her hand was shaking when he slipped it on her ring finger.
“A rare gem for a rare beauty.” In his present mood, he could have spouted love sonnets and not felt in the least ridiculous.
“It fits perfectly.” She stared at it, unwilling to take her eyes off of it.
Ty was both amused and proud as he watched Tara admiring the ring, oblivious to almost everything but the play of light in the ring’s fiery heart. “Does this mean you are accepting my proposal of marriage?”
Her limpid dark eyes looked at him, his question not immediately registering. “Yes. Yes, it does,” she repeated with more certainty, then kissed him quickly and grabbed at his hand. “Let’s go tell Daddy. I want to show him the ring.”
It would have been his preference to stay on the patio and share a few more intimate moments together. But Tara had agreed to marry him. Now he could afford to wait.
“Hey, Ty!” Jack Springer stuck his head inside the door to Ty’s room. “There’s some gorgeous chick out here who wants to see you. You’d better get out here before someone steals her.”
“Who is it?” He rocked his chair onto its back legs and rubbed the back of his neck, stiff from the hours he’d spent at the desk studying for final exams.
“Your ever-lovin’ fiancée, of course,” Jack declared. “I guess she’s jealous of all the time you’ve spent the last two days cracking those books.” Ty kicked away from the desk and headed for the door, hurriedly tucking his shirttail inside his jeans. “You sure picked a lousy time to propose—right before exam week,” his friend chided and stepped away from the door. “’Course, I wouldn’t have given two cents for your chances of having Tkra accept.”
In his eagerness to see her, Ty didn’t waste time explaining that he hadn’t seen much of his new fiancée because she had pleaded for time to study for her finals. It pleased him that she hadn’t been able to stay away. Their engagement had become the hottest piece of gossip on campus, even though the official announcement wouldn’t be in the paper until next week.
When he saw her standing near the foot of the stairs, he paused a second, the vision of her dark beauty making its impact on him. She looked up, her features so serenely composed, absent of any expression, yet so perfect in their construction. He ran down the last few steps and made to take her in his arms, but her hands kept them wedged apart.
“I’ve missed you, honey,” he insisted and bent his head to kiss her, but she turned away. Ty straightened, puzzled by her reticence with him. “Is something wrong?”
When she looked at him, he had the feeling she was seaching for something. “Let’s sit over here.” She took his hand and led him to the settee tucked in the small alcove under the stairwell. Once they were seated, Ty was conscious of the distance she kept between them, angling her body on the cushion to keep him away. A run of uneasiness went through him, but he looked at the glittering black opal on her finger and was reassured. He took hold of her left hand and rubbed his thumb over the ring.
“I started to call you a half-dozen times—just so I could hear your voice,” Ty murmured, aching to hold her. “I’m glad you came over.”
“No, you’re not,” she said. Ty started to smile, but her next words wiped it from his face. “Because I thought it was only fair to tell you in person that I can’t marry you.”
“What?” It was a low sound, the beginning of a roar that was building in his head.
“I’m not going to marry you. There’s too many things I want to do—too many plans I’ve made—and I’m not ready to give them up,” she stated, clearly but softly. “I never should have accepted your proposal in the first place. I w
ouldn’t have, but I was so overwhelmed by the ring that I lost my head.”
“You don’t mean what you’re saying. I love you—and you love me,” he insisted, his voice dropping with the intensity of his feelings. A raw hotness was coursing through his blood, the heat building.
“Ty, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” Tara flared. “Be a gentleman and accept the fact that I’ve changed my mind.” She had never been one to let her heart rule her head. It was a ruthless determination that she’d inherited from her father.
“Accept it. Just like that.” Anger raged through his low tone.
“Yes.” She was irritated with him for turning this into an emotional scene. It flashed in her eyes as she started to twist the ring off her finger.
“Keep it,” Ty declared hoarsely. He left her sitting there and walked away in a numbed state of fury and pain.
11
After miles on the strip of highway that cut across the empty reach of prairie, a handful of buildings rose into view. There was something forlorn and forgotten about them, rather like a battered suitcase left behind by a weary traveler who figured it wasn’t worth coming back for.
The ancient pickup truck slowed its rattling pace, which had never been too speedy. Not much traffic went in this direction, so Ty had been obliged to hitch a ride in whatever came by. He sat loosely in the passenger seat, an elbow crooked on the open window while he watched the buildings of Blue Moon crowd close to the highway, desperately clinging to their concrete lifeline. There was no show of recognition on his face, and the position he’d held for miles didn’t change.
The scrawny, grizzled old man behind the wheel shifted gears, slowing the springless truck more. He wasn’t a talkative man, hadn’t said more than five words since he’d stopped at the crossroads to give Ty a lift. The gray stubble of a two-day growth of beard bristled on his hollow cheeks, and his denim jean jacket and pants were faded to blue-gray, even their patches.