Nina bit her lip, confused. “Question? I don’t remember...”
He dropped her right hand and lifted the left one to eye level. One finger stroked the place where her ring had left a small white band around her finger. “I said you wore a man’s ring but not his name, that you had a wedding but were not a wife. And I asked you if you were married or not married.” He curled her fingers over his. “And I’m asking again, my precious Nina, are you married or not? You took off your ring tonight, but I’m not sure what that means, so I’m asking.”
Nina looked at her bare fingers. She could almost feel the warmth of the ring that had been there for so long. Almost...but not quite. Her eyes filled as she realized exactly what Peter meant.
She shook her head. “Not married, Peter. Not married now and haven’t been for a long time.”
He brushed a curl back behind her ear and the stroke of his thumb along the line of her jaw made her tremble. “Not married,” he whispered. “Good, because I don’t make a practice of kissing other men’s wives.”
His lips touched hers, gently as a feather, as tenderly as a moonbeam brushes a rose. “Goodnight, Nina. Sleep, rest, and heal. I’m right here anytime you need me.” His lips brushed hers again.
Like a weary child who at last finds her way home, Nina stepped into his arms. He held her to him, and she heard the steady beat of his heart as he wrapped her closer.
“Sleep, sweetheart, sleep warm and deep.” He lifted her chin and left a slow kiss, light at first but carrying the promise of more, on her tingling lips. “Sleep well.”
Chapter 12
Much to Nina’s relief, Peter didn’t mention their brief moment of intimacy the next morning. The kisses shared in the hotel hallway might never have happened. Nina, appalled that she’d found comfort in the arms of another man so soon after realizing Danny was dead, told herself it had been a one-time thing. She certainly wasn’t going to encourage Peter. Though in the deepest part of her mind she had no doubt Danny was gone forever, she couldn’t think of another man coming into her life. She and Peter were friends, only friends, and though he might wish to change that, she wasn’t ready.
The drive back to Santa Rita felt stilted and more than a little uncomfortable. Nina stayed lost in her thoughts, examining and weighing the conclusions she’d reached the night before. Try as she might, she couldn’t find another answer. In being perfectly honest with herself, she realized that in some ways it was a relief—sad and regrettable, but a relief nonetheless—to know Danny would never come back. The boy she’d loved had never really existed, and the man wasn’t someone she could have respected or lived with. The dull ache of loss that filled her was more sadness for a young life snuffed out than mourning for a husband she’d never really known.
The miles rolled away, and before lunchtime the faded blue Mercury reached Santa Rita. Peter turned at Jasmine Street and slowed the car as it approached the lilac cottage at the end of the street. He stopped in front of the house and helped Nina from the car.
“Thank you, Peter, for making the trip,” Nina said as she waited on the walk to her door.
“Glad to help a little, Nina,” he assured her, taking her bag from his trunk. She started to take it from him, but he ignored her gesture and, laying a casual hand on her shoulder, walked beside her up the steps. “I can’t even guess how hard this has been for you,” he added.
“Hard for me,” Nina agreed, “but I can’t envy what Al Hayes is going to face when he talks to Marigold. No telling how she’s going to react.”
Peter waited as she unlocked the door and stepped inside, then handed her the small overnight case. “I have to work on the syllabus and reading list for the new class I’m teaching this fall, but I’ll call you later today or in the morning. I want to know how you’re doing and what the sheriff has found out.”
Nina made a dismissive gesture. “You’ve done so much, given up a lot of your summer already. I know you have things to do.”
Peter laid an insistent hand on each of Nina’s shoulders. “Listen to me, Nina Kirkland, and listen close. Nothing, not a single thing, is more important than seeing you clear of all the confusion and entanglements you’ve lived with the past two years.” He rocked back on his heels, and a small grin creased his face. “Besides, we have a lot to talk about, some plans to make. I seem to remember we’re entered as a team in a road rally in just a couple of weeks. And since I think we owe it to your uncle and the Princess to do our best for them, I suspect we’re going to be seeing a good bit of each other. In fact, I’m counting on it.”
The Fourth of July road rally! She’d forgotten asking Peter to be her navigator. To do well, to justify Uncle Eldon’s faith in her, she and Peter would have to spend more time together, practice till they became an efficient team.
“I guess we will need to make some trial runs and see how well we can work in tandem,” she admitted, her words cautious, tentative.
“We will,” he agreed. “And since I’ve never done this before, I expect we’ll need to take a look at some of the instructions from other runs, so I get a feel for these events.”
Nina knew her uncle would have copies of earlier rally directions at his office. He often helped plan the routes for the local sports car clubs. “I can get those,” she assured Peter.
“Deal! You get directions for us to practice with, I’ll rustle up a picnic basket, and we’ll gear up to steal the show.” He cupped her chin in the palm of his hand, the play of light on his face making him look almost boyish. “Did anybody ever tell you you’re about as cute as a kitten on a Christmas card?” His quick, featherlight kiss caught her off guard. “I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow, sweetheart. Plan to make our first run on Saturday, okay? We’ve got catching up to do if we’re going to bring home a trophy.”
Still a little dazed by the way Peter swept her into his plans, Nina closed the door and leaned against it. What was she going to do about that man? He’d been a rock in the storm ever since he’d turned up at her door with Danny’s belongings. At every step he’d tried to protect her from the pain each new revelation created. At the same time he’d applauded her refusal to quit when the truth was hard to face. And then he’d kissed her, not passionately, not offensively—no, never in a way she could object to. He’d kissed her tenderly, with warmth and sweetness, gently, as if touching a fragile flower.
And I liked it, liked it so much I wanted more. Nina shocked herself as she realized she did want more than the gentle comfort Peter’s embrace offered. It’s just that it’s been so long. And Danny, well, Danny’s been gone two years. I miss...
The thought faded from her conscious mind as Nina heard a car pull up to the house. Peter came back? She put her travel case aside and hurried to open the curtains. Oh, heavens, I don’t need this right now. Nina watched as the long, gleaming black Cadillac stopped beside the front walk. The almost silent motor ceased its low purr. The driver’s side door opened and the carefully coiffed head of Marigold Wilson appeared above the roofline. Nina swallowed hard. Could she pretend she wasn’t home? Ignore the woman hurrying up the walk? Marigold’s elegant blue silk suit shimmered in the morning sun. Her shoes, too tiny and fragile to be suitable for walking, tapped on the stone walkway. Then she stood at the door, lifting the door knocker and banging it firmly.
“Now, Nina, honey, I know you’re home, and you might as well let me in. You’ve just got to see that your behavior isn’t at all acceptable. Going off with a man, spending the night goodness knows where, and coming home in broad daylight as shameless as a brazen hussy. It won’t do, Nina, it just won’t do. I simply won’t have it. Come on now, open the door.”
Resigned to a painful interview with her mother-in-law, Nina turned the knob.
“Hello, Marigold, and do come in.” She stepped back so her unwelcome guest could enter.
Marigold swept in. “You must see,” she began and then stopped, a manicured nail raised to point at the mound of grey fur curled on the club ch
air opposite. “We’ll talk as soon as you take that filthy animal out of here. I won’t have a disease-carrying creature that close to me.” She made a moue of distaste and stepped back, brushing imaginary contaminants from her skirt.
Sinbad stirred, stood and stretched, and rolled off his perch. With total disregard for Marigold’s objections, he strolled across the room and wove a disdainful figure eight around her legs, leaving a light dusting of grey tabby cat hair along the hem of her stylish skirt.
Smothering a chuckle at Marigold’s outrage, Nina gathered up her cat and took him to the kitchen, easing his ruffled dignity with a can of tuna, though his food bowl and water were still full from the day before. “Sorry, old fella, but we have to show a little consideration for the guest’s phobias.”
She returned to the living room to find Marigold folding a hand towel over the seat of the chair and carefully arranging her sweeping silk skirts over it.
“Sit down, Nina. We must have a talk before you create further scandal. I will not have gossip spread that might reflect badly on the Wilson family. If you want to go off with some man for a clandestine rendezvous, that’s your business, I suppose, but some people still regard you as Danny’s wife. And goodness knows you’ve done nothing to take care of that situation. If you’re going to flaunt convention with a parade of other men, Nina, I insist you take some legal steps to keep the good name of Wilson out of the gossip. At least get annulment proceedings underway. And show some discretion in the meantime. Leaving in broad daylight, with a strange man, and carrying an overnight bag right out in the open! What did you think you were doing? You know how people talk.”
Nina sighed. She didn’t want a confrontation with Marigold at any time and certainly not this morning.
“It wasn’t what you think, Marigold.” She looked away to shut out the distasteful curl in Marigold’s lip and the skeptical raised eyebrow. “I went to Dallas with Sheriff Hayes to talk to Danny’s lawyers. My friend who recovered Danny’s car went along to help explain things to the attorney.”
“And what business did you have with Danny’s attorneys, may I ask? Not that they’d talk to you, I suppose.” Marigold’s icy tone for once carried none of her sugary Southern drawl.
“Sheriff Hayes wanted me to go. He had me take my marriage license, as well. When the attorney understood why I was so concerned about Danny’s whereabouts, why I asked for the address, he made a real effort to find a way we could get in touch with Danny. They didn’t know Danny and I were married, Marigold.” Nina knew without question she was going to be forced to tell Marigold the conclusions the group had reached after visiting the law offices.
“Why should they? Five minutes after he said ‘I do’ Danny knew he’d made a mistake. Of course he hadn’t told those old fussbudgets. And the loathsome lawyers told you exactly nothing,” Marigold snapped. “A waste of time. If you’d told me you were going, I could have saved you the trip. Those close-mouthed cold fish wouldn’t give you directions to the exit if the building was on fire.”
Nina steeled herself to answer. She wished Al Hayes were there to deal with what was sure to be an agonizing revelation. He wasn’t, and Nina knew she must tell Marigold what had transpired.
“Actually, the lawyer, a Mr. Borman, was pretty forthcoming once he learned Danny and I were married and that no one had had any direct contact with him since the wedding.”
Marigold sat up sharply, her head tilted, to issue an arrogant denial. “That isn’t true! You forget, Nina, that I have been in constant contact with my son. He may not choose to get in touch with you, but he’s certainly not ignored his duty to his mother.”
Irritating as Marigold was, Nina couldn’t help feeling pity for the woman who held so tightly to an illusion. “The lawyer looked at Danny’s files, Marigold. He examined the financial reports, the bank statements, everything.” She tried to reach out to the woman beside her, but Marigold drew away from her touch.
“I can’t believe the attorney would share confidential information with you, Nina. It’s a breach of trust or a violation of ethics or something. Lawyers just can’t talk about their client’s affairs. Why, Borman wouldn’t even give me information, back when Danny was still a child, even though I was his mother!”
“Marigold, the only thing the attorney told me was that Danny’s money went to a bank where it has never been touched. Not a single dollar has been withdrawn in over two years.” Though the woman resisted her touch, Nina put her hand over Marigold’s thin fingers. “If Danny hasn’t used the money in his account, what has he been living on for the last two years? The law firm doesn’t have an address for him. The bank says he’s not spending any money. And the only word you’ve had from him has been telegrams, impersonal telegrams, and a call from a friend you can’t identify. No one has heard Danny’s voice, seen his face, or had his handwriting in over two years, Marigold. That’s what the lawyers said to me.” Nina sat back. “We have to think of possibilities other than that Danny just didn’t want to be married to me. We have to think there are other reasons he’s dropped out of sight.”
Marigold’s face paled under its perfect pancake makeup. She shook Nina’s hand away. “You’re trying to say my boy isn’t alive.” She stood, the hem of her skirt snapping as she turned. “Let me tell you something, Nina Kirkland, I’d know, I’d feel it in my soul, if something had happened to my boy. You’re either making a mountain out of some little thing the lawyer let slip, or that fool lawyer palmed a story off on you just to keep Danny’s affairs private. Danny isn’t dead! He couldn’t be.” She snatched up her handbag and marched to the door, each step marked by the sharp click of her impossibly high heels. “You have a lot of nerve, Nina, coming up with this story. Trying to cover your own misbehavior with a lot of wild speculation about Danny. Going to see the lawyers, creating this awful tale, all that was just misdirection. Whatever else went on, the lawyers and the sheriff and all that, what you really did was spend the night with a man. No matter what story you pull out of thin air, everybody will know you had an illicit tryst while still claiming to be Danny’s loving and faithful wife. People will talk, Nina. People with schoolchildren, parents of your students, are going to hear of this. I wonder if you’ll still be teaching once this story gets around.”
“Marigold, think what you’re saying!” Appalled, stricken with the implied threat, Nina hurried after her mother-in-law. A word or two in the right ears could impact Nina’s place on the faculty, and Marigold had enough influence, knew enough people in positions of authority, to speak those words. Nina could only guess what would happen if Marigold lashed out in that way. “Listen to me. Sheriff Hayes thinks Danny might be dead, too. He was in the office the same as I was. I’m sick to think something might have happened to Danny, but the possibility is real. You must see that.”
“I see that Al Hayes is an old fool who goes in whatever way the wind blows.” Marigold flew out the door and all but ran to her car. “I don’t know what to think of you, Nina. I’m shocked by your behavior and your callous disregard for my feelings! Your mother would turn in her grave if she knew.” Marigold swept into the car and slammed the door. With a spatter of wide-flung gravel, she pulled away from the curb, executed a sharp, three-step turn in the road, and drove away, bits of stone still settling in her wake.
Shaken from her harrowing encounter with Marigold, Nina cast an anxious glance up and down the street. Her neighbors could have heard almost everything, she realized. What would they think? What would get back to the school board? Nina couldn’t believe Marigold would carry out her unspoken threat, but in a small town rumors moved quickly. Nina realized she could be facing two crises—Danny’s almost certain death and the loss of a job she loved.
Her quiet house felt unsettled, as if a residue of Marigold’s outburst remained. Nina unpacked her overnight bag, put her things away, and puttered about the house. Sinbad, still annoyed at being cast out of his own living room, took up a disdainful position on top of the fridge
and ignored her.
Unable to find comfort in her house or refuge in a book, she finally changed into red capri pants and a bandana print shirt, got her keys and bag, and rolled Woody out of the garage. Too restless to sit at home, at least she could make a run out to Uncle Eldon’s and get those rally directions from him. She needed to catch him up on the happenings of the day before. Wonder if he’ll make the same connections, reach the same judgment I have? Uncle Eldon was the most sensible man she knew. If there was an error in her thinking, he’d see it. He could look at the evidence and tell her if she was leaping to conclusions.
Driving always took her mind off her troubles. Nina relaxed a little, drew an easier breath, as she turned onto the highway. Though the day was hot enough to make the highway shimmer before her, a welcome breeze came off the river and made the afternoon bearable. Still, Nina was relieved when she pulled into the parking lot beside her uncle’s office. The asphalt stuck like liquid glue as her canvas flats touched the ground. Heat seemed to bond to their thin soles.
“Hey, Nina,” a voice called, and she saw Ron Reeves crossing the lot to join her.
“Hi, Ron, how are you? And your parents?”
He caught up with her at the door and held it a moment so she couldn’t proceed inside. “I’m fine and the folks are doing as well as we can expect for people with all the troubles of old age,” he answered. “But I’m glad I saw you. I need to talk to you about something.”
Nina caught an odd tone, a concern, in his voice. “Something wrong, Ron? Uncle Eldon?”
Ron nodded, a long crease forming wrinkles across his forehead. “Remember I told you I was worried about him, Nina? While I was gone to see the folks the last time, he rolled himself out to the paint shop. Moved some equipment around, stuff too heavy for him to be trying to shift. This place belongs to him, and he can do anything he wants, I suppose, but dammit, if he gets hurt while he’s here by himself, there’s nobody to hear him or come see about him. Can you talk him into staying out of there, at least when I’m gone and there’s no one else around?”
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