* * *
Saturday dawned crisp and clear, the sky a deep October blue even though September wasn’t quite over. Alex had always liked autumn. For reasons he’d never bothered to explore, it had always seemed more of a beginning than an ending. But this time the feeling of excited expectancy faded quickly when Angel declined to join them.
“Sure you won’t change your mind? We’ll just be out a couple of hours.” Dammit, he refused to beg!
“Sorry—I’ve got these Lombardy poplars that need to be heeled in, and the forecast is for rain on Monday.”
Alex hung up the phone, irritated. More than irritated. He was mad as hell! Without stopping to think, he dialed Carol’s number and put the proposition to her.
“Riding? Oh, well...I was on my way out the door, but I can shop later. Give me half an hour to change,” she said, and he wished he’d let well enough alone. He’d had this stupid notion in the back of his mind about proving something to himself, only it wasn’t working. Carol was no substitute for Angel. Not in a million years.
“Meet us at the stables, then—say, forty-five minutes?”
“Us?” Carol was saying when he hung up.
They could have made it a threesome. He’d rather have made it a twosome. Himself and Angel. Gus was right, she worked too hard. She couldn’t be all that hung up on horticulture—the Angel he remembered from his high school days wouldn’t have known the difference between a rose and a rutabaga. Or cared.
They met at the stables. Carol, as usual, looked like a cover model for Equestrienne magazine. Sandy wore jeans and a sweatshirt. She wore a hard hat, but only under protest. It was another of those “Oh, Da-addy!” things.
“Why don’t we start out on the back trail?” Carol suggested. “Come on, Gus, I’ll show you the way.” Her sidelong glance toward Alex was teasing. “You two don’t mind bringing up the rear, do you?”
The tip of Sandy’s nose was turning suspiciously red, a sure sigh that she was either about to cry, or to let fly with a full-fledged temper tantrum. Alex set his mind to distracting her.
“Whatever happened to your friend with the Corvette?”
God, he’d had to go and remind her? His batteries obviously needed recharging.
“Arvid? He’s been grounded for a month,” she said dismissively. “He’s pretty dumb, anyhow. Not like some boys I know who get jobs on weekends.”
Alex felt as if things might be starting to look up.
“Look at her! You know what I wish? I wish Tansy would ride her under a branch and knock that silly smirk off her face!”
Alex’s shoulders slumped. Shadow, sensing his distraction, began to act up but was quickly brought under control. “If you’re not enjoying yourself, Alexandra, I can drive you home right now.”
“I just don’t see why Angel couldn’t have come, that’s all!”
“She was invited. She had other things to do. Ease up, you’re making your mount nervous.”
“Yes, well, she’s making me nauseous!” Alex didn’t make the mistake of thinking she was referring to the rented mare. Maybe he ought to take the time to sort out a few things right then and there. He could understand Sandy’s disappointment. He could even understand her feelings toward Carol, but that didn’t excuse bad manners.
Suddenly the bright autumn sky seemed slightly tarnished. Monday’s promised rain in the offing, he told himself. It had nothing at all to do with the pair chattering cheerfully up ahead. And certainly nothing to do with the sullen adolescent plodding along beside him.
They came to a wide place, where lightning had taken out a big red oak a few months earlier, and before he could call her back, Sandy was off and running. With barely enough room to pass, she galloped past Gus’s startled gelding and called over her shoulder, “Race you to the fence, Gus!”
The little fool. Oh, God, the little brat! Alex took off after her, with Gus only half a length behind, while Carol tried to control her mare.
“Dammit, girl—” was all he had time to cry before she reached the split rail fence, which was an easy jump under normal conditions.
Conditions were anything but normal, however. The mare was skittish, and Sandy wasn’t ready. Her pacing was off. By the time she realized she wasn’t going to make it, it was already too late. She went sailing over the mare’s head just as Alex hurled himself off Shadow’s back and ran the last few yards to the crumpled figure in jeans and a hot pink sweatshirt.
Gus was right on his heels. He knelt down on the other side of the limp form lying in a bed of what looked suspiciously like poison ivy. “Easy there, baby—no, don’t try to get up, just concentrate on breathing—attagirl.”
“Easy, princess, Daddy’s here. I’ve got you now, don’t cry.”
Carol stopped a few yards away, not dismounting. “Oh, for God’s sake, she’s not hurt, any fool can see that.”
Ignoring her, Gus continued to trace her limbs. “Okay here—hmm, nothing here, but her left leg—”
“Yeah, I know. Easy now, sweetheart, don’t try to move, Daddy’s got you.”
The two men briskly discussed the urgency of splitting her boot and of calling 911. Alex cursed his choice of trails—this was the most inaccessible of them all—while Carol stalked back and forth, muttering about silly children showing off. Quickly a plan of action was agreed on. The boot remained intact to serve as bracing, particularly as neither man had a knife that was sharp enough to insure cutting through leather without doing further injury to the patient. Alex mounted Shadow and Gus lifted a white-faced Sandy carefully up into his arms, taking particular care not to jar her leg. Then Gus raced off ahead to the stable to call an ambulance.
Carol was largely ignored.
* * *
It was nearly six when Angel locked up the office, adjusted the lights in the greenhouse and headed for the bathtub and whatever she could find in the refrigerator. Which, considering the fact that she hadn’t had time to shop for groceries since her power had been restored, wouldn’t be much.
Gus still wasn’t back. Off and on during the day, she told herself that she might as well have gone with him for all the advantage she’d gained by staying. She’d sold two Bradford pears and one tray of chrysanthemums. But at least she’d had better sense than to set herself up for another fall. Besides which, the new stock was taken care of.
They must be having a wonderful time, she thought ruefully. Riding, having lunch together—probably swimming in the afternoon and lying around the pool, lazily soaking up the unseasonably warm sunshine and talking over old times.
She could have been a part of it all, if it weren’t for her pigheaded refusal to let go of an old dream. She and Hightower had known each other forever, for heaven’s sake! What was more natural than for old friends, meeting again after so long, to spend time together catching up on old times?
Hogwash.
She wanted to spend time with him all right. Preferably in a king-size bed. Or maybe a swimming pool, under a half-moon, with a privacy fence a mile high and a foot thick.
Passing the refrigerator, she swigged down half a can of flat diet cola, filled the basket and pot and plugged in the coffee maker, then headed for the bathroom, which had been tacked on to the house after it had been built by closing off a portion of the back porch. Hardly a convenient arrangement, but it served well enough.
Half an hour later, she let herself out the bathroom door, hugging a voluminous terry-cloth robe around her. Once the sun set, the air had turned distinctly chilly. It smelled of cookouts, burning leaves and flowering Elaeagnus, a heady combination. She had lingered in the open stretch of porch between the bathroom and kitchen doors to watch the moon lift over the top of the greenhouse. She was still there when Alex drove into the yard, pulling right up to the edge of the back steps.
Suddenly acutely aware of her own nakedness under Cal’s old bathrobe, she shivered. “Hi. Where’s Gus?” she called out softly, instinctively seeking to preserve the spell of moonlight, spicy autum
n air and Alex. If this was a dream and she was still sleeping, she’d just as soon not wake herself up.
“Baby-sitting.” Propping one foot on the bottom step, Alex explained the circumstances. “I hate like the devil to ask it of you, Angel, but Mrs. Gilly can’t take the stairs, and the agency can’t send anyone out until Monday, so I thought—that is, it’s only tonight and tomorrow—and maybe tomorrow night. I washed her the best I could in case she landed in poison ivy, but she needs a woman to finish the job.”
Angel didn’t want to go for the simple reason that she wanted it too much. “I don’t know—I’m not much good in a sickroom.”
“She’s not sick, she’s just sore. It’s a bad sprain, not a break. The trouble is, she can’t get out of bed, and you know how kids are at that age. She’s already bored with TV, and I’m afraid if you can’t help out, Carol’s going to insist on staying. She’s already dropped a few hints.”
“So?”
Alex shifted position. In the dim light spilling through the kitchen window, he looked tired and harried. There were circles under his eyes and the shadow of a beard on his stubborn jaw. It was all Angel could do not to gather him in her arms and hug the stuffing out of him.
“Maybe that would be the best solution,” she suggested gently.
The best for her, at least. She wasn’t cut out to play the martyr.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
“But you don’t think Carol’s presence will help very much, right?” She was deliberately jumping into a quicksand bog.
“I take it Sandy’s said something to you.”
“About Carol? She mentioned that they don’t always see eye-to-eye.”
“Yeah—well, that’s an understatement.”
How do you feel about her? How do you feel about me? Am I anything more than a handy household appliance? Plug me in, switch me on, and I look after whatever needs looking after until you switch me off and stash me back in the utility room.
He was still wearing riding gear. Angel suspected he’d had a rugged few hours of it. “Look, come on in and have a cup of coffee while I get dressed. I made fresh, and—oh, phoo, I can’t even offer you a bagel. I haven’t had time to shop yet.”
Seven
When had she managed to take over his life? Alex wondered, half amused, half irritated. Not to mention half aroused. It seemed to be a permanent state ever since Angel Wydowski had backed into his life again.
Dammit, she had scarcely been under his roof for twenty-four hours this time, and already she was bossing his staff, planning shopping trips with his daughter and talking to Phil Gilly about reseeding the lawn and converting a section down from the pool to a vegetable garden.
He was quietly going out of his mind, wanting her, and she was thinking about vegetable gardens!
Gus had insisted on staying out at her place overnight to keep an eye on it. He’d confided in Alex that before he left town again, he had arranged for a cleaning crew to come in and give the place a thorough going-over.
Not that it would help all that much. The place was a dump. After seeing that pathetic excuse for a bathroom tacked on to her back porch, Alex was ready to move her out of there permanently.
More than that—he wasn’t ready to think about.
The sound of laughter drifted downstairs to the study, where he had adjourned after breakfast to go over the final plans for the fall market display next month. It had never occurred to him that the sound of Sandy’s laughter was so rare until Angel had brought laughter back to his home.
When had things grown so grim around here? Was it because he was tied up so much with business? Or was he tied up so much with business because things were so grim at home?
* * *
On Sunday afternoon, Carol came over to bring the invalid a bouquet of balloons and a Disney video. Alex remembered taking her to see the movie when she was about seven. She had loved it then. She was less than enchanted now, although to her credit, she didn’t say so.
“Thank you. I’ve always loved this one.”
“Yes, well, I thought you might be bored.”
“Oh, I’m not really bored. I mean, my ankle throbs, but Angel says that’s only a sign that it’s getting better.”
“Angel?”
“Angel Perkins. You remember—you met her here the other night?”
“She’s been to see you?”
“She’s staying here. Didn’t Daddy tell you?”
Daddy had obviously not told her. “Well. I suppose you’ll be able to hobble back to school tomorrow, so there’s no real need for a baby-sitter.”
Alex strolled in in time to see his daughter widen her eyes in exactly the same way Dina used to. The way Carol sometimes did for effect. He had caught Dina practicing in front of a mirror once early in their marriage, and she’d confessed it was a trick she’d learned from a sorority sister.
But where the hell had Sandy picked it up?
“Oh, Angel’s not a baby-sitter,” she said airily. “She’s my friend. Daddy’s known her forever, you know. She’s doing all sorts of great stuff around here. Like, you know how Flora always cooks all this gunky, greasy stuff for breakfast? She’s going to take care of that, and you know those trees that shed all over the pool? She’s outside right now with Mr. Gilly, whacking off what needs whacking.”
Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or to ground the brat for the next ten years. She was doing it deliberately. Carol had always been territorial. Lately she’d been getting intense about it. Come to think of it, she was the one who had recommended Flora, who was an indifferent cook, but who was reliable and didn’t mind Mrs. Gilly’s officiousness.
“Sandy, don’t you think it’s time you had a nap?” he suggested quietly from the doorway.
“Da-addy, I’ve been in bed forever! I don’t need a nap, what I need is for you or Gus to take me out by the pool where I can watch Angel and Mr. Gilly. How am I ever going to learn anything about tree stuff stuck up here all day?”
“Gus is out at the nursery supervising a cleaning crew, and it’s too cool for you to sit outside. It’s clouded up and turned windy. Carol? How about a drink before you leave?”
“Oh, am I leaving? I thought I might invite myself to dinner. I’m sure Flora can deal with one extra guest on short notice.”
He should have known it wasn’t going to be so easy.
Gus got back just before dinner to report on the status of Perkins Landscaping & Nursery. Evidently he’d pitched in with the crew and done a bit of cleaning himself, because he was looking distinctly grimy in an ancient pair of jeans and a filthy sweatshirt, the sleeves shoved up on his muscular arms.
Carol leaned back in her chair, adjusted her skirt to reveal several more inches of slender nylon-clad leg and did the eye thing for him.
Women, thought Alex. They had to be born that way.
Although, come to think of it, he’d never caught Angel in any such obvious tricks. If she was attracted to a man, she would damn well do something about it. Even as a kid, back when she’d had this childish crush on him, she had wriggled her way between him and whatever girl he’d been dating at the time every chance she got, beaming up at him as proudly as if she’d pulled off a major coup.
“Isn’t that right, Alex?”
“Beg pardon?”
“Gus was saying Angel’s little place is in first-class condition now, and I told him she was probably dying to get home.”
“Oh. Yeah. Maybe.” Brilliant, Hightower. No wonder you’ve been kicked upstairs in your own company.
Carol stayed for dinner. Gus showered, changed into fresh khakis and a black knit shirt, and set out to entertain her, which was a good thing, because Alex couldn’t seem to keep his mind on any conversation for more than three minutes in succession.
Angel was having a tray upstairs with Sandy. Every now and then he could hear a shout of laughter all the way downstairs.
“Heavens, what on earth is going on up there?
Shouldn’t Sandy be resting? You’d think some people would have sense enough not to—oh, dear.” She swept Gus a look of apology.
Alex bit back a retort and rose, suggesting they adjourn to the study, which had the advantage of not being located directly below Sandy’s bedroom.
It was just after ten when Gus offered to follow Carol home to be sure she arrived safely. Carol hesitated, and Alex could practically follow her thought processes.
Physically, she’d be thinking, Gus was an attractive man, but he was only a carpenter, after all—not even a developer. On the other hand, a bit of competition might make Alex sit up and take notice. But what if she allowed him to follow her home and he asked to come in for a drink? What if he wanted something more than a drink? Would it be worth the bother?
Not really. Not for Carol. Alex knew her too well, had known her ever since kindergarten, through both their marriages and divorces. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Carol had no more real interest in the physical side of any man-woman relationship than Dina had. She might covet the position of wife to a successful and presentable man for the simple reason that socially a single woman was at a disadvantage, but conjugal duties fell pretty far down on her list of priorities.
He almost grinned when she yawned and said, “Thanks, dear, but no thanks. I’ll call as soon as I get home.”
Both men saw her to her car. “Nice-looking woman,” Gus observed as they watched her drive off.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“She’s got the hots for you.”
“The lukewarms for me. The hots for my position, whatever the hell that is.” Alex shrugged, and they turned to go back inside.
The door hadn’t quite closed behind them when a small figure wearing a pair of red flannel pajamas that clashed horribly with her hair, came hurtling down the banister. A split second before her backside collided with the newel post, she rolled off, landing on her bare feet.
Alex and the Angel (Silhouette Desire) Page 8