Vegas rich

by Michaels, Fern

  "Don't try to snooker me, Sallie. It won't be the same."

  "It will be whatever we make it. I love you, Dedn, so much my heart aches."

  "Sallie, we need to hang up. I want to try and beat some of the heaw traffic. You be careful going up the mountain."

  A sob caught in Sallie's throat. "I'll be thinking of you."

  "And I'll be thinking of you."

  "You ready, Sallie?" Philip called from the foot of the stairs. "Everything's in the car,"

  "I'll be right down, Philip." Sallie closed her eyes for a moment. She no more wanted to go to Sunrise than she wanted to go to the moon.

  On the ride up the mountain Philip talked incessantly about the latest letter from Ash and his trip to Hawaii for the holiday. "I can't even begin to imagine what Christmas is like on an island." He babbled on and on until Salhe thought she would jump out of her skin. If he was aware of her discomfort and unhappiness, he gave no sign.

  "Su Li's and Chue's children will be old enough this year to really enjoy the tree. He called last evening and said he cut a monster tree and it's sitting in a bucket of water that turned to ice. He's thawing it out in the greenhouse. We're to decorate it as soon as we get there. It's going to be a wonderful Christmas, don't you think, Sallie?"

  "I feel very old, Philip. Su Li and Chue were just children when they came to us. Now they're married with their own families. Do you feel old, Philip?"

  "Sometimes. I try not to think about it."

  "Is it because you're unhappy, or because the best years of your life are gone?"

  "Perhaps a little of both. When the boys get married, how do you think you'll feel?"

  Sallie laughed. "I don't know if I'm ready to be a grandmother."

  "Have you heard from Simon?"

  "I got a Christmas card a few days ago. He wrote a few lines in it. He mentioned a fellow aviator, a Coleman, remember I told you about the possibility he might be related? I'm going to Texas right after the first of the year to meet Seth Coleman. He's got to be my brother. I want to see about the park, too. My goodness, we're here, Philip."

  230 Fern Michaels

  It was nine o'clock when Sallie said good night. Tears burned her eyes when she looked at the glorious tree and the piles of presents underneath. This was not where she wanted to be. She wanted to be in Arizona at Sallie and Devdn's house of happiness.

  Salhe drew on her fur coat, and crept down the back stairs to the kitchen. She flinched as the cold air struck her face. She knew if she cried, the tears would freeze on her lashes. When she reached the lit-de cemeter\ she cleared her throat and swallowed hard. '"Merry Christmas, Mama. Merr^' Christmas, Cotton. By now you know I'm an . . . adulteress. I did this with my eyes wide-open. I know you're up there wagging your finger and saying, 'Sallie, girl, Sallie girl,' and your eyes are so disappointed in me. Sometimes I'm disappointed in myself. I'm tr'ing not to cry, Mama. I got Christmas cards from Ash and Simon a few days ago. Simon said he shot down some famous Japanese pilot that killed almost thirty' of our boys. Ash is okay, too. It won't be long now till both of them come home. Alive and well. Mama, I prayed so much, from my heart, the way you taught me. Merr- Christmas, Mama. Tell Pop . . . you know what to tell him."

  Sallie moved across the frozen ground to Cotton's grave. "Merry Christmas, old friend. I don't know what to say. Cotton. My sons are fine. I guess that's the most important thing. I just feel. . . empty. I don't want to be here. I hate pretending with PhiHp. Do you think God is punishing me. Cotton?" When there was no response, Sallie gathered the fur coat close about her. She didn't want to go back in the house. She didn't want to stand here and freeze either.

  "Sallie?"

  "Philip? What are you doing out here?"

  "Talking to you. I heard you going down the steps, then I heard the back door close. I saw you through the window.

  "Look at me, Sallie." He cupped her face in both hands, aware of the crystal tears on her lashes. "I'm going to give you a lesson in Philip Thornton's school of logic. Is there any reason why three people should be miserable at this wonderful time of year when one is all that's needed? It's a yes or no question, Sallie."

  "No," Sallie murmured.

  "Good, I always said you were my star pupil. I'll warm up the car while you grab a bag; you should make your destination by midnight. Oh, here's my Christmas gift to you both." From inside his pocket he withdrew a small tissue-wrapped package. "I'm not even

  going to make you guess. It's mistletoe. You know what to do with it. Hurry up before you freeze."

  "Philip . . ."

  "That's my name. Are you going to argue with me?"

  "No. Yes. It isn't right."

  "Who says it isn't right?"

  "We both know it isn't. What about tomorrow and the children. Su Li. . ."

  "I can take care of things, Sallie. Everyone will understand. I can put on my Santa suit by myself."

  "Oh, Philip .. ."

  "You already said that. Get going, Sallie."

  "You're going to be miserable, Philip."

  "I won't have time to be miserable. Drive carefully."

  "I will. I wall, PhiHp. Thank you. Thank you for being the kind, wonderful man you are. Merry Christmas," she whispered before she kissed him lighdy on the cheek.

  Philip stood in the driveway watching until Sallie's car was out of sight. His shoulders slumped as he made his way back to the warmth of the kitchen. He stared at the tray of hquor next to the phone for a long time. They seemed to go together, the alcohol and the phone. He poured himself half a tumbler of bourbon and drank it before he was calm enough to pick up the phone. He was proud that his voice sounded so normal when he wished the operator a Merry Christmas.

  "Devin, it's Philip Thornton. Nothing's wrong." He took a deep breath. "I just wanted you to know she's on her way. She should be there by midnight. Merry Christmas.

  "And to the world, a Merry, Merry Christmas," Philip said as he hung up the phone and downed his second bourbon.

  Sallie started to blow the horn the moment she swerved onto Devin's property. She continued to tootle the horn until she came to a full stop in front of his door. She ran from the car, up the walk, hardly noticing the evergreen wreath or anything else. All she wanted was Devin and his arms. She raced through the house calling his name and turning on hghts. Why was it so dark? Where was Devin? Oh, God, what if he had gone somewhere? She called his name over and over until she was hoarse. She ran through the house

  232 Fern Michaels

  a second time, opening and slamming doors, her heart pounding. Oh, God, where was he?

  In the kitchen there was no sign of food preparation. Devin had said he was going to make a big turkey dinner for Christmas Eve. SaUie opened the refrigerator. There wasn't even one jar of pickles. She slammed the door and kicked it at the same time.

  She walked over to the kitchen sink—and saw colored lights through the window. It took her bare seconds to open the back door. There, for all the world to see, was the most spectacular display she'd ever seen, a thousand lights festooned around an enormous pine tree. Devin stood on the top rung of a ladder, a string of lights around his neck. "What took you so long?" he drawled.

  "I came as fast as I could. How'd you get that star up there? Oh, Devin, I love you so."

  "It wasn't easy, I had to add on an extension to the tree house. I did it in an hour, after PhiHp called. I love you more than yesterday, and less than I will tomorrow. God, it's almost tomorrow."

  "Come down, Devin," Sallie cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  She stood in the circle of Devin's arms and sobbed against his shoulder. "Philip . . ."

  "I know, sweet, I know," Devin crooned.

  "What's for dinner?" Sallie asked a long time later.

  Devin pointed to a bathroom towel that served as a tablecloth. "A chunk of cheese, two apples, some bread that has blue stuff on the edges, and some nuts. A feast. Merry Christmas, Sallie."

  11

  Fanny'
s nerves jangled as she stepped from the plane. She was alive, in one piece, the long flight behind her. The humidity of the island slapped her in the face as she followed the other passengers across the tarmac. Her hair was going friz, in .seconds making her head look like a wild bush.

  God in heaven, what would she do if Ash wasn't here to meet her? As Bess would say, switch to Plan B. In theory it was fine, except she didn't have a Plan B. Was he here? She was almost afraid to scan

  the cluster of people waiting by the iron fencing. Her chest felt tight, her eyes dry, her hands were shaking, and she knew if she opened her mouth to talk, the words would stick in her throat.

  She saw him when the heavyset man ahead of her side stepped to the right to wave to someone. He was taller than all the other men waiting at the gates, more handsome. He looked so creased and pressed, she sucked in her breath. She herself was rumpled, and she swore she could feel her hair move outward. He was smiling and waving. She smiled and waved back. Nervously. What am I doing here? Following her heart.

  He reached for her bag. "I wasn't sure you'd come. I've been standing here for three hours." How deep and mellow his voice was.

  Her own voice stunned her; it was normal, flirtatious. "When someone sends me a ticket to Hawaii on Christmas Eve, I'd be a fool to turn it down. Everything looks so green. When did you get here, Ash?" How funny his name sounded on her lips. Funny, yet right.

  "Last night. I borrowed a jeep. I had a litde trouble with accommodations. Everything was booked. I think every serviceman who has leave is here. I ran into a few guys I know, and one of them steered me to the place I finally found. It's nothing fancy. Hell, what it is is a shack on the beach. The good news is it has some plumbing. You have to shower outside, though, on something called a lanai."

  "Does it really matter?"

  "Not to me it doesn't, but I thought girls were fussy about things Hke that."

  "Not this girl. I love new experiences." Fanny felt her cheeks start to flame. "How . . . how many rooms does it have?"

  "One!"

  "One? But. . . what. . . ?"

  "We're going to work at it, okay? Let's not put the cart before the horse."

  "Well. .. I. . ."

  "Yes?" Ash drawled.

  "I don't know if I'm . . . what I mean is . . . I'm not sure . . ." she stammered.

  "Are you trying to tell me something?" There was such a wicked smile on his face that Fanny burst out laughing.

  "Here's the jeep." He stowed her luggage in the back and helped her climb into the passenger seat.

  234 Fern Michaels

  "What I was trying to tell you without saying the words was . .. is . . . I'm a virgin. I never . . . I'm not sure ..."

  "Listen, let's get something straight from the git-go. I am not going to ravage and plunder you. I will not take advantage of you. If things switch up, fine. If they don't, that's fine, too. How does that sit with you, Miss Logan?"

  "Just fine, Captain Thornton."

  "You see how simple it is once you hit it head-on. We understand each other now. You write some damn fine letters, Fanny. I enjoyed them."

  "Ash?" His name still sounded funny on her lips. "About those letters. . . did you ever tell your parents you were writing to me?"

  "Yes and no. If you mean did I mention your name, no, I didn't. Should I have?"

  "I asked you to. Your mother . . . has taken an interest in me. I told you about being invited to Sunrise for Thanksgiving. I don't want her to think ... oh, I don't know what I think."

  "Don't worry about it. I can handle my mother. Are you a gambling person, Fanny?"

  "Not really. Are you?"

  "Yes and no. I was going to make a bet with you."

  "About what?" Fanny felt her heart take on an extra beat. "How much?" Her heart was pounding in her chest. She wondered if he could hear it.

  "Ten bucks."

  "Okay. What's the bet. Ash?" Was this purring voice hers?

  "That we get married at the end often days."

  "I don't even know you."

  "Then why are you here?" He was laughing at her. Surely he wasn't serious. Or, was he?

  "I'm here because . . . because ... I want to be here. I don't think I'll take that bet."

  "Scaredy-cat."

  "I am that." Fanny smiled.

  "Close your eyes, we turn off here. Our abode is just a quarter of a mile in, maybe not even that far."

  When Fanny finally opened her eyes, all she could do was stare at the structure in front of her. Then she burst out laughing. "It looks like an oversize outhouse."

  "That was my exact thought the first time I saw it. See, we think

  alike," Ash said flippantly. "We probably will get married at the end often days. I'm hardly ever wrong."

  "Hardly ever doesn't count," Fanny shot back.

  "In this case it does. I think, Fanny Logan, you are going to be very easy to fall in love with."

  "Really," was the best Fanny could manage.

  "Yes, really." He was grinning from ear to ear.

  Fanny jumped from the jeep. "The flowers are gorgeous. This is plumeria. The scent is reminiscent of honeysuckle. This is more heady, almost intoxicating, don't you think?" She plucked a bloom and held it under Ash's nose. He snifled and rolled his eyes. "This is night-blooming cereus. It's gorgeous, isn't it?" Fanny said, pointing to the walkway.

  "Only half as gorgeous as you are." He tilted his head to allow the warm trade winds to caress his cheeks. "It seems to be a gentle, quiet place," he murmured. "So often of late, I fmd myself longing for a place like this, a place to sit and think . .. like when I'm flying. When you're up there, you're at peace. Sometimes you think about the past, the future. This place ... I don't think I'm going to have to think here. I don't know if that's bad or good."

  He looks sad, Fanny thought. Without thinking, she reached out for his hand. Ash grasped her hand tightly. A wave of protective-ness surged through her. She was at a loss to explain the strange feeling.

  "Let's go for a swim. You brought a suit didn't you?"

  "Several."

  "You go in and change. I'll wait out here. Don't look at things too closely. I stocked the refrigerator. I thought we'd cook on the beach. We have plenty of wine and beer. I tried to get enough of everything to last ten days. We can go into town to eat if you prefer."

  "We can take it one day at a time. I won't be long," Fanny called over her shoulder.

  Fanny stared around the shack. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. The one room was about nine by fifteen in size. A bed that appeared to be hand-carved took up the center of the room. She checked the bedding, expecting it to be dirty, but it wasn't. The pile of white towels in the center of the bed smelled faintly of soap and bleach. A colorful fiber mat covered most of the floor. A bamboo dresser, a refrigerator, and two chairs were the only other furniture. A paddle fan circled lazily overhead, creating a gende breeze. On

  236 Fern Michaels

  the walls, metal hangers hung from wire hooks. Ash's dress uniform hung from one of the hooks.

  Before she undressed, she lowered the bamboo blinds. When she hung her dress next to Ash's uniform, she smiled. It looked right. Side by side. She looked again at the bed underneath the paddle fan. She wondered what it would be like to make love beneath an oscillating fan. She shivered as she pulled on a new lemon yellow bathing suit.

  Fanny's face flamed when Ash whistled approvingly. "What'd you think of the place?"

  "A veritable palace. It's called pretending. It's fme, Ash."

  "Don't go away, Fanny."

  Fanny made a point of digging her bare feet into the sand. "I won't budge. Ash."

  He was back in less than five minutes. Fanny sucked in her breath. He was perfectly tanned, muscular. Bess would say he was an Adonis. "How is it you have a tan? I feel like a ghost compared to you."

  "I like catnapping on the deck of the Big E. Ten minutes here, ten minutes there, it adds up, plus I tan very easily. Your skin looks cream
y. Race you to the water."

  Fanny sprinted forward, her feet digging into the sand. She dived into the Pacific a scant second befofe Ash. She surfaced, a huge smile on her face. She looked around for Ash, but didn't see him. Suddenly, she felt him grip her ankles and pull her under the water. They frolicked like children for over an hour, then, giggling, they walked arm in arm up to the beach, where Ash spread out two towels, side by side.

  "It's going to be dark soon," Ash said, lying down on his stomach. "What's your feeling on night versus day?"

  "I like both. Days are new beginnings. It can never be the same as the day before, so you can always expect something new and wonderful to happen. Nights are nice too, because the day is over and you can reflect on what you accomplished or didn't accomplish. There's a coziness, a safety to the night that I like. I'm a very simple person; I think you need to know that. I like new experiences, but there's a part of me that always wants to return home, to that cozy safe place. I love sitting by a fire with a good book, especially if it's snowing out. Do you like to play ice hockey?"

  "I never played hockey."

  "So, what do you like best, night or day?"

  "I probably couldn't have explained it as well as you did, but I

  feel the same way. I'm a pretty simple guy myself. We have something else in common." He was on his feet suddenly, reachmg down to jerk Fanny to her feet. "Come on, it's going to be dark soon."

  "It looks like Christmas," Fanny said happily when the lanai came to life beneath the colored lights that were strung through the high hibiscus bushes. "We even have a picnic table. Everything is just perfect."

  "Except for presents," Ash said. "My mother was big on mountains of presents. It used to take us hours and hours to open them all. There was always a lot of tension in our house, though. What was yours like, Fanny?"

  "Oh, it was wonderful. My dad always did his best for me and my brothers. We didn't have a mother, so he did everything. We went out together and cut down the tree, then we'd decorate it together and have eggnog and sing carols. We each got five presents— one big one, one silly one, and three that were clothes. Mrs. Kelly, our next-door neighbor, gave us each one, and she baked for us too. She's a widow and sweet on my dad. I kind of hope they get married one of these days."