by Arlene James
Resolutely she filed away thoughts in her brain. The fact that she too nearly resembled Garrett's deceased wife, she must never forget. The bursting tingle of desire she had experienced in his arms, she must forget immediately and forever. Gloria's ugly announcement in the courtyard, she would not remember. It was nothing but an embarrassment. It did not matter, and she would not allow it to taint her stay here. On the other hand, she would recall Gloria's hostility. There had to be a reason for the girl to act as she had. If they were to be friends, or at least not be enemies, she had to know why the girl so obviously disliked her.
Carefully she arranged her thoughts, putting each one in proper perspective. Why, then, by morning, was everything a big jumbled, confusing mess again?
She woke stiff and sore on Saturday morning from a dream of strong arms drawing her near, and warm, sensuous lips pressing against her own. She gave herself a mental shake and crept from her bed, chastising herself for the subconscious thoughts that had produced her dream.
She looked around her room and was once again struck by its loveliness, wondering about the woman who had lived here before her. No. That subject could lead to other things. She would avoid it. Best to occupy her mind with something else—like, what was she going to do today?
Saturday. What would Saturday on a ranch be like? Rick had talked some yesterday about what things were like on the ranch during the spring. There were fields of hay and alfalfa to be harvested, baled, and stored away for the winter. New calves to be assisted into the world, rounded up, and branded. Fence-mending, a perpetual job, that must be accomplished. Line shacks to be repaired and restocked. Painting to be done on practically every building on the place. Cattle to be shipped to larger feedlots and market. So much to be done. She doubted that work would be halted just because it was a Saturday. Ranching was no nine-to-five job.
They would be very busy today, but what about her? She had very little to do. Saturday had always been her housecleaning day, but it did not require much effort to keep a single room in shape, and as far as she could tell, there was nothing that needed doing. Other than planning lessons, she had no immediate chores to be done. It looked like it was going to be a long day. Maybe Lupe had something she could do. A walk over to Connie Hardesty's might be a good idea, but she was too sore to seriously contemplate it at the moment.
With a sigh she began to dress for the day. She had just finished securing her hair into two loose ponytails below each ear when a knock sounded at her door. Quickly she snatched up her thin cotton bathrobe and put it on over her underclothes, tying it at the waist, and crossed the room to throw open the door.
Garrett leaned casually against the jamb, dressed in jeans, boots, and a white T-shirt that molded to the taut muscles of his chest and exposed the deeply tanned skin of his corded arms. Blue eyes, soft and unfathomable, regarded her from beneath straight, dark blond brows, warming her and at the same time sending little reminders of caution into her head. Those same eyes, she remembered purposefully, could suddenly blaze with anger and animosity.
"You need a feather and a headband to go with that hairdo," he said, smiling. Crystal forced herself to respond normally and smiled back, one hand sneaking up to give her hair a self-conscious pat.
"I guess the atmosphere of this place is getting to me," she admitted with a tense laugh, and safely tucked the hand into the pocket of her robe.
Those straight brows rose slightly, but he said nothing, only stared at her for a long moment, his face an impassive mask of sharp angles and planes.
"Did you have something to say to me?" she asked rather tartly, and unconsciously took a step backward.
A silent chuckle twisted his lips into a sneering semblance of a smile. He shook his sun-bleached head and locked icy eyes on her. "I just wanted to tell you that you may use the pool today if you like. A swim might help work out some of that soreness." He leaned forward slightly, rocking back on his heels. "You can swim, can't you?"
"Oh, now, that wasn't necessary!" Crystal flared, tapping one toe indignantly against the plush rosy carpet.
The broad shoulders straightened, and the sensuous mouth made a teasing pucker.
"I don't know about that," he drawled. "You can't ever tell about city girls."
Crystal clamped her jaw shut to keep from saying something that would turn this encounter into another argument. With a supreme effort, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, holding her sides as she did so in an attempt to keep them from hurting.
"Rest assured," she said tightly, "that I swim quite well."
"Hmm. Let's hope so. I don't have time to be continually giving the teacher lessons." He grinned broadly.
It took willpower, but Crystal managed to retain a grip on her temper. It was obvious that he enjoyed baiting her. Well, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of her. She forced herself to relax and sauntered closer to him. "I can well understand that," she said sweetly. "I know you're a very busy man, and I wouldn't dream of imposing on your time." The smile she gave him was warm and guileless. To her immense satisfaction, the grin faded. The contours and plains of his face gradually took on a jagged appearance as the handsome jaw hardened and the vivid blue-ness of his eyes seemed to fade ever so slightly.
"Thank you for stopping by and reminding me that I could use the pool," she said lightly, placing a hand upon the doorknob. "Oh, and if it's all right with you, I think I'll walk over to the Hardestys' house a little later on. I want to see the children and Connie again."
He glowered at her from beneath the crag of his brows. "No, it's not all right with me," he refused gruffly. "I've asked Cleave to come around later this afternoon and give you another driving lesson."
That put a chink in her protective armor, but she refused to be daunted by it, reminding herself that it was important to her job to learn how to handle a car. She buoyed up her smile and condescended pleasantly.
"I'll try to be ready for him." At least it was Cleave and not Garrett.
With a curt nod he left her, the heavy heels of his boots clomping angrily on the hardwood floor of the hallway.
Crystal clapped her hands behind the closed door of her room. For once she had gotten the better of Mr. Garrett Dean. She congratulated herself for maintaining her composure, for refusing to be goaded by him into angry retorts.
"So, Mr. Dean," she announced to the empty room, "what do you think of your city girl now?"
Crystal slipped into a breezy little sundress and went to the kitchen for her breakfast. Lupe was apologetic over her daughter's behavior the night before. Crystal confessed that she was troubled by the girl's behavior and begged Lupe to forgive her for ruining her surprise supper. Lupe insisted that it was nothing and closed the matter by announcing that they would simply do it tonight instead.
Crystal hung around the kitchen for a while, talking with Lupe, until Gloria came in, scowling as usual when she saw Crystal. When it became apparent that the girl had no intention of leaving, Crystal excused herself and went back to her room.
She got down some books and began to plan the coming week's lessons, but there was not a great deal she could do until she had had a chance to observe the children and gauge their abilities to learn. Finally, after forcing herself to concentrate as long as she could, she put on her yellow two-piece swimsuit and sauntered out to the pool, taking along a lacy beach jacket and a towel.
She lounged in the sun for some time, stretched out on a chaise longue at the edge of the pool. Feeling warm and relaxed, she padded over to the side of the pool and carefully lowered her body into the cool, refreshing water. Taking it easy, she floated on her back for a while before flipping over and stroking slowly across the pool.
Before long, the tightness in her muscles began to fade, and she swam for the shallow water, being careful not to overdo. Her flesh was used to the water now. She felt so very relaxed, lying against the steps descending into the water at the shallow end of the pool.
The
sky was a blue-and-white canvas of peaceful paintings overhead. She played a childhood game of fashioning images from the frothy clouds. Here was a duck, and there a pail and shovel. A bumpy car floated against the azure canvas, followed by a rather misshapen covered wagon.
Her world was quiet and simple and peaceful. For the moment.
Chapter Eight
Crystal was unaware of the rapid passage of time. She should have been conscious of the sun climbing higher and higher in the sky, but the water was so blissfully gentle, and now that the soreness had been worked out of her muscles, she felt so relaxed that she did not even think of budging from her spot on the pool steps until two male voices pulled her attention back to the immediate.
Though she could not hear exactly what was being said, she recognized one voice as belonging to Garrett. That deep rumbling timbre was difficult to mistake. She did not pay particular attention to the other voice, assuming that it would belong to Cleave, since he was to give her driving lessons today.
Realizing that she had dawdled too long in the water, Crystal rose hurriedly to her feet and scrambled up the steps, running toward the towel and beach jacket lying on the deck beside the chaise. She snatched them up as Garrett and Rick came through the wrought-iron gate in the courtyard wall.
"Woo-ee! Don't you look delicious!" Rick ungraciously called out.
At about the same moment, Crystal made eye contact with Garrett and was stunned to see the quick flicker of disapproval in his eyes. She ought to have been used to provoking such reactions from him, but she could not see any real reason for it just then, unless he was angry because she wasn't ready and waiting for Cleave.
In three quick strides Garrett covered the ground between them and captured Crystal's wrist in a viselike grip. Too taken aback to protest, she allowed him to drag her toward the door to the hallway just outside her room.
"Get inside and get dressed!" he hissed.
All at once Crystal's mind snapped to attention, and she dug her bare heels into the concrete of the pool deck. "Let go of me!" she demanded, and wrenched her arm out of his grip. Something terribly close to fear assailed her then as the features of his face sharpened into a threatening glare.
"Don't match tempers with me, woman!" he warned, "I can promise you won't win."
Crystal made an attempt to recover the shreds of her dignity by tossing back her head imperiously. "I was just about to go in and dress," she announced, not quite mastering the quiver in her voice.
"Then do it!" His order made her flinch, but she maintained enough composure to walk stiffly toward the door. Then, remembering that Rick had witnessed the whole nasty affair, she turned back to dart a confused, apologetic glance at him.
He just stood there, self-consciously poking his hands into his jeans pockets.
"What do you think you're looking at?" Garrett bellowed at him. "Get back to work!"
Rick opened his mouth as if to protest, then clamped it shut and hurried away, shaking his head and muttering.
Crystal started quickly for the door, pulled it open, and stepped through. Garrett caught it as she attempted to pull it closed behind her, and followed her inside.
"What on earth did you think you were doing, parading around out there almost naked?" he shouted.
Anger overcame fear with that, and Crystal leaped to her own defense. "I happen to be wearing a bathing suit," she yelled back. "It's the customary attire for swimming."
"Not around here, it's not!"
"Then what would you suggest I wear?" she demanded flabbergasted by his reaction.
"I'd suggest something decent!" he shot back, sweeping the hat from his head and running a hand through tousled yellow gold.
"And what would you call decent? Insulated underwear, or maybe slacks and a turtleneck sweater? Would a parka do?" She came up on tiptoe as her voice rose, and at that only managed to reach his chin.
His hand shot out and cupped her face in a firm grasp, tilting her head back so she could not escape the blue eyes boring into her.
"This is a ranch," he clipped. "There are fourteen single men living on this place besides me. Women are pretty scarce around here, and some of these cowpokes aren't too scrupulous! A woman parading her body around is asking for a lot of trouble. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
Crystal felt the anger drain out of her, and in its place came embarrassment and humiliation, though a small part of her refused to accept his words. Tears filled her eyes, and she cast them downward, chagrined beyond words. His hand relaxed on her chin, but his fingers pressed her head back until she once again was forced to look into his eyes. An unnamed emotion hovered there, and this, too, frightened her.
"You are much too beautiful," he said hoarsely, "and much too much in need of protection."
His hand dropped, and Crystal immediately lowered her eyes to the floor at his feet. Half of her wanted to move quickly away from him, and half wanted to be propelled forward in the hope that he would catch her up in his arms and hold her tightly against his chest. She did neither.
"I can protect you if you'll listen to me," he went on quietly, "from everyone but myself—and you will have to do that."
Crystal nodded mutely, fully understanding the implications of his words and woefully unsure that she could do what he asked.
"I'm a man," he said softly, needlessly. "I want… I need all the things other men do." His hand hovered dangerously at her shoulder, and Crystal felt the breath catch in her throat. His voice was nothing more than a whisper now, and the very sound of it seemed to caress her ears even as it warned her. "Don't push me too far, my little city girl, or we may both regret it."
She looked up for one brief instant into the deadly serious misleading calm of those entrancing blue eyes, then fled into her room. He didn't try to stop her, but it was some seconds before Crystal, her back pressed against the hard wood of her door, heard him move away.
The driving lesson was forgotten that afternoon, and Crystal made a point of staying in her room the rest of the day. That evening she dressed in a pale blue gathered skirt and matching vest with a blue print blouse and went to the kitchen to ask Lupe if she could help in any way with the preparations of the evening meal. As usual, Lupe assured her that there was nothing to be done, but she surprised her by revealing that she had invited the Hardestys for dinner.
It was not without tension, but dinner went off successfully that evening. Crystal was introduced to the top hands, all single men except Rod Hardesty, and enjoyed the company of the children and Connie. Gloria was her usual unpleasant self, moping around with her chin in her hand and generally snarling to everyone who tried to draw her into the conversation.
Rick was unusually quiet, and Crystal supposed it was on account of the angry exchange he had witnessed earlier between Garrett and herself.
She tried not to notice Garrett. He was tense and brooding. Strain showed around his eyes and mouth. Yet he managed to be pleasant and cordial, if unnaturally quiet.
All in all, Crystal was much relieved when the evening was over and she could go quietly to her room.
Sunday passed in a slow, boring blur for Crystal. She had awakened with a headache after dreams peopled with strange faces and laughing, sneering voices. At least the headache gave her a plausible reason for staying in her room, but it did nothing to assuage her depression.
Late in the evening Garrett sent Gloria to her room to say that he would hike to see her in his office. The girl was curt and unfriendly. Her lips curled derisively when she announced that Garrett was waiting. Crystal tried not to let it bother her, but the girl was unwilling to part without hostilities.
"Watch your step," she warned Crystal mysteriously; then she backed out of the doorway with a haughty toss of her long braid. "All the men on this ranch don't belong to you, you know," she snarled, and hurried away down the hall.
It occurred to Crystal as she walked down the hall to Garrett's office that Gloria was probably in love with Garrett. Then, li
ke a thunderbolt out of the blue, it came to her: she was not the only one.
Crystal stopped dead in her tracks, fist raised in midair about to descend upon Garrett's door. Suddenly she went cold all over. She wanted to cry, wanted to deny it. But she knew that she couldn't. The only thing she could do was try her best to hide it and not let her emotions get the best of her.
Whatever happened while she was here, she could not let Garrett know how she felt about him. To do so would be to invite him to equate her with his dead wife, to let him think that because she loved him and looked so much like the woman he had loved, he could do with her as he pleased. And she was not sure how long she could resist him if he made a sincere attempt to make love to her.
Her hand trembled as she rapped it timidly upon the door.
"Come in," The resonant voice did nothing to quell the butterflies flitting about in her stomach.
"You wanted to see me?" she asked. He put down his pencil and indicated that she should take a seat. The lines of his face were stern and unreadable. The blue eyes seemed to take note of her every movement as she crossed to the chair and lowered herself into it.
"Will you be ready to begin work tomorrow?" he asked after a moment.
Crystal nodded affirmatively.
He paused, seeming to expect her to interject, but she kept her silence, preferring to let him do the talking as long as possible.
"Rod will bring the children over in the mornings, and Petie will take them home, but I want you to know that it is a great inconvenience, and it will only be for this first week. During that time, I expect you to learn how to drive well enough to pass a driving test and get your license. I've arranged for Cleave to give you lessons each afternoon, though that, too, is an inconvenience."