by Carolyn Hart
Serena was waiting by the front steps with a smile when the jeep pulled up. Julie dropped lightly to the ground and swept toward her. She was lovely in an ice-blue silk dress that looked as fresh and perfect as if it had just that moment been taken from a cachet-lined closet.
They brushed cheeks and Serena caught the delicate scent of Halston.
Julie stepped back a little, still clasping Serena’s hands.
“My dear, you look wonderful. Peter, look how gloriously healthy Serena looks.”
Serena abruptly felt terribly conscious of her faded jeans and plain cotton blouse.
Damn Julie.
She looked past Julie toward Peter and, for a dreadful instant, it was a year ago and he was climbing out of the jeep, a guest scheduled for a two-week visit. He had been then, as now, incredibly handsome, blond hair shining like wheat in the sun, blue eyes friendly and smiling. Then the moments rushed together. She held out her hand, “Hello, Peter, it’s good to see you again.”
“Hi, Serena.” His hand was warm and firm. “Looks like you’ve kept the home fires burning.”
Suddenly, it was easy. She led the way up the steps and said good-humoredly over her shoulder, “We manage to keep things going. How long can you and Julie stay?”
“A few weeks. We’re having our apartment redone. Besides, New York is an oven in the summer.”
“It’s fairly warm here,” she said dryly.
“Oh well, the mountains and all.”
She remembered then that he had surprised her last summer, he spent so much time riding out alone.
Julie dropped her purse on the sideboard in the foyer and clapped her hands. “Uncle Dan, it’s good to be home. I’ve been looking forward to being here so much.”
Uncle Dan came up behind her, carrying some bags.
Julie said quickly, “Don’t bring those in here, Uncle Dan. Peter and I will stay in Greenbrier.”
Greenbrier was the largest and finest of the guest quarters.
Uncle Dan was already starting up the stairs. He paused. “Sorry, Julie, but Greenbrier is for guests. Millie’s busy freshening up all the cabins this week. The first dudes will come in this weekend. Millie has your old room all ready for you and Peter.”
Will and Danny were just coming in the front door with more luggage. Only Serena could see Peter’s face. He was scowling. He looked at his wife and jerked his head up toward Uncle Dan’s retreating back. Julie made a little face and spread her hands as if to say I can’t help it. Then the moment was past as Peter turned, smiling, to Will, and reached out to take a suitcase, and Julie started up the stairs.
Serena stood in the entry way, puzzled and uneasy.
The week whirled past. Serena worked hard to have everything in order for the first summer guests, and then it was time to greet the new arrivals. Uncle Dan stood at the top of the steps with Serena and Julie. Will and Peter were stationed behind them.
Jed came around to open the door of the ranch’s VW bus. “Let me help you, Mrs. Minter,” and he reached up to give his hand to the most languorous looking blonde Serena had ever seen. Although Serena was schooled enough not to change expression, she thought, wow, what a summer this is going to be. Mr. Minter followed, and Serena wondered what crazed travel agent had sent this couple to a dude ranch. Howard Minter’s face was flushed red from whisky. He wore a tight plaid suit and three rings on his right hand.
The second couple off the bus, the Rhodes, were typical dudes, wiry and athletic people in their thirties with three lively children.
Two men, John Morris and George VanZandt, completed the party. Serena liked them immediately. Morris was short and stocky with a cheerful open face. VanZandt was tall and lean and looked like he would be more at home in Levis than in his cord suit.
Will helped the Minters with their luggage and led the way to Greenbrier. Jed balanced tennis rackets and duffel bags and took the Rhodes in tow. They were assigned to Azul cabin.
Serena greeted the two men. “I’m Serena Mallory and I hope you both find your stay at Castle Rock to be pleasant. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your cabin. It’s a brief walk this way, up among the pines,” and they set out for Desperado Point. “I hope you don’t mind that your cabin is a bit farther than the others.”
The two men kept up with her easily even though they were wearing city shoes and must have found the path slippery with its uneven blanket of pine needles.
“This suits us perfectly, Miss Mallory,” John Morris said. His voice was deep and clear. “George and I are working together on a book and that’s why we’ve chosen Castle Rock for our vacation. Our wives are visiting their families and this will give us a chance to compare the drafts we’ve worked on this winter. If our cabin is out of the way, so much the better. Our typewriters won’t disturb any of the other guests.”
Serena looked at him with interest. “What kind of book are you writing?”
VanZandt smiled. “I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed, Miss Mallory. We’re working on a physics text.”
“Oh.” To tell the truth, she was disappointed. She had been excited at the prospect of meeting authors. “I’m sure that must be very interesting,” she said quickly.
Both of them laughed. “I can tell,” VanZandt said pleasantly, “that western hospitality is alive and thriving at Castle Rock.”
As she unlocked the door to their cabin and turned on the lights, Serena replied, “That is one thing you certainly don’t have to worry about at Castle Rock.”
She explained how the wall heater worked, as the nights could be quite cold, showed them the extra blankets and how to dial the house should they need anything, and told them dinner would be at six-thirty in the big dining room at the hacienda. “We stock the kitchenettes and leave breakfast up to the guests. As for lunch, we will either have a meal in the main house or there will be box lunches to take if you go on any of the outings.”
“Outings?” Morris asked.
“We have rides two or three times a week, either up into the mountains or out to Castle Rock,” and she described the huge rock that had given the ranch its name. “And we have two tennis courts, a putting green, and a swimming pool.”
“There are some ruins, aren’t there?” VanZandt inquired.
Serena nodded slowly. “Yes, but we don’t show them. Mr. McIntire doesn’t usually permit anyone to visit the ruins. We had trouble one summer with some guests who . . . well, they treated it like a souvenir hunt, and he is quite determined to protect them. We’ll see.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Morris said quickly. “George and I will probably just ride out a bit by ourselves, as we have so much to discuss. We wouldn’t have time for any long-range trip to the ruins, anyway. And, if you don’t usually show them, we certainly wouldn’t expect any special treatment.”
Serena smiled warmly at them.
As she walked back down to the hacienda, she thought how nice it was to have guests who didn’t expect special treatment. She had a feeling the Minters wouldn’t share that philosophy.
Serena was right.
By the end of the week, Serena’s immediate response, when the red signal light flickered on her desk phone, was a scowl. That had never before been a byproduct of their guests, but Mrs. Minter was impossible. And Julie wasn’t any help. Julie wandered restlessly around the house when Uncle Dan and Jed were out, and Peter spent his time practicing golf shots on the practice tee and taking occasional long rides.
Serena glared at the phone as it buzzed again.
“Hello, Serena here.”
“Oh, Serena,” Mrs. Minter snapped, “I wish you would do something about that little boy. He’s waked me up again.”
Serena glanced at the desk clock. Eleven-fifteen. “I’m sorry,” she said pleasantly, “I’ll talk to Danny.”
“It’s that damned horse of his. It makes so much noise.”
Serena drew her breath. “Perhaps if you took some riding lessons, you might feel . . .”
“Riding lessons.” Her tone oozed disgust. “I wouldn’t get up on one of those brutes for anything.”
Serena almost asked why the hell she had come to Castle Rock, but she didn’t. Uncle Dan always insisted that all guests be treated with the utmost courtesy. It had never before, Serena thought, been hard.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Serena said, still pleasantly. “We would like for you to enjoy your stay here.”
“Yeah. Well, thanks. Look, why don’t you come over and have a drink.”
So far this week, Lou Minter had treated Serena on a par with a hotel maid. This request must mean that the woman was dreadfully lonely—or bored. But Serena felt there was a limit to what Uncle Dan would expect.
“I wish I could, but I have to help put the box lunches together, and then I’m taking the Rhodes on a ride to Missionary Lake.”
“Oh.”
Serena glimpsed Julie walking down the hall. “I’ll tell you what, Mrs. Minter, why don’t I see if Julie could come. I imagine . . .”
“Oh no, that’s all right. I’ll take a bath,” and the phone clicked into the cradle.
Serena shrugged. Now that was odd. She would have supposed that Mrs. Minter would feel an instinctive bond with Julie, who wore gorgeous, expensive, and absolutely non-ranch wear clothes, and who was, so obviously to everyone but Uncle Dan, bored out of her mind. Instead Mrs. Minter had jumped back as if Serena had suggested a tete à tete with a nun.
“Damned if I understand anybody,” Serena muttered.
She slapped the receiver down and hurried to the kitchen. She did have box lunches to fix and it seemed there was never enough time to get everything done now that the season had started.
The afternoon, spent with the congenial and appreciative Rhodes, restored her usual good humor. They rode up to the lake, which was deep and still and cold, ate lunch on a huge slab of red rock, and watched the children toss rocks down into the water. Serena especially enjoyed seeing Danny have such a good time with the Rhodes children. It reminded her of those long-ago days when she and Will and Julie had raced up and down mountain trails and never worried about tomorrow.
She was rather quiet on the ride back down the mountain. Why had she thought of it like that? Remembered with pleasure those days because they hadn’t worried about tomorrow. Was she worried now?
A whitetail deer flashed by among the pines to their left. Serena reined up and called to the others. But underneath, the thought kept pulling and tugging. Was she worried?
Not, she thought, worried. It was more that she felt uneasy, fearful. She knew suddenly with cold certainty that something was wrong, something at Castle Rock. Not the weather. Not even the irritation of the uncongenial Minters. Not Julie’s spoiled restlessness. Something more . . . Why couldn’t she pinpoint the problem? The fact that she had no idea what was wrong frightened her.
Back at the corral, Serena supervised as the Rhodes and their children unsaddled the horses, rubbed them down, and fed them.
After the others had gone, Serena lingered in the tack room. She took her time putting away the saddle blankets and hanging the bridles and bits. Then, with a thrill of excitement, she heard the sound of Jed’s voice as he called to someone. When he came into the tack room, carrying his gear, she was at work mending a bridle.
“Still at it, Serena?”
“Just finishing up. I led the Rhodes up to Missionary Lake today. What did you do?”
“We rounded up some stragglers in Glen Valley and took them back to the main herd.”
“I believe I’d take that over the tourists.”
He looked at her in surprise. “I thought the Rhodes seemed like nice people.”
“Oh, they are,” Serena said quickly. “It’s some of the others.”
“The Minters?”
She nodded. “Not hard to guess, is it?”
“Where are they from?” he asked casually.
“L.A. Wouldn’t you know it?”
“Yeah. You’d think Vegas would be more to their taste.”
“It is. I’ve heard all about the Sands and Frankie and Delia.”
He grinned. “How did they happen to come here?”
“I can’t imagine,” Serena said wearily. “Maybe they’re on the lam.”
Jed hung up his saddle, turned to face her. “Seriously, Serena, how do you suppose they ever heard of Castle Rock?”
“Maybe they thought we were a cruise ship.”
Jed laughed, but he persisted. “No, look at it. They had to know where they were coming. Why don’t you talk to her, see if you can find out why they came here.”
“I’d rather talk to a hooded cobra.”
Jed laughed again.
Serena finished with the bridle, hung it, and turned toward the door. Jed came with her. As they stepped out into the bright sunshine, she said, “If you want to, you can talk to her yourself tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“You are coming, aren’t you?” she asked, suddenly breathless. “We always have what Uncle Dan calls a social every Friday night during the summer. All the guests are invited, and the family, and you, too, of course.”
“I’m just a hired hand.”
“Uncle Dan said he especially wanted you to come.” He hadn’t, but he would, Serena knew, be pleased.
“In that event, I’ll come,” Jed said easily. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Serena looked forward to the evening, too.
This first social of the summer was going to be especially festive. Serena had worked all week, making the arrangements, making sure there were plenty of country and western tapes for the stereo, including, of course, the Texas two-step and San Antonio promenade. She had rearranged the furniture in the den so there would be plenty of room for dancing, and she had stocked the bar, including Coors and wine for the ladies, since Uncle Dan didn’t believe in hard spirits for ladies. After Mrs. Minter discovered the bar didn’t run to gin, Serena wondered how the evening would go. But that, she felt, was Mrs. Minter’s problem. Probably the arrival of the neighbors would distract her. There were some very attractive men at some of the surrounding ranches.
Serena helped Millie clear the dinner dishes, then checked on the hors d’ouevres. When everything was ready, she hurried upstairs to dress. She swept her hair back in a chignon and lightly touched her cheeks with blush. She chose a long swirling skirt but couldn’t decide between a saucy peasant blouse or a more low-cut soft cotton top. Smiling, she finally slipped on the low-cut blouse and added a necklace of shining turquoise. Uncle Dan had given the necklace to her on her twenty-first birthday. She looked into the long mirror. Her hair shone softly, the color of a midnight sky. The blue-green of the turquoise emphasized the vivid green of her eyes. She looked lovely and she knew it with a surge of delight. Excitement hung in the air. She had not so looked forward to an evening for a long, long time.
The party began gloriously, despite the Minters. Old friends arrived in a drove, the Salazars from Circle Bar M, the Mackenzies from Burnt Hill, the Berrys from Dutchman Creek, the Montoyas from Crazy Horse. The den resounded with booming voices and laughter and lots of talk, the outlook for the fall beef prices, the battle against new federal regulations, the worry of the continuing drought, the price of feed. And the dudes mixed in, welcomed by the friendly ranch families.
Except, of course, for the Minters.
Sam Berry from Dutchman Creek took a liking to Mrs. Minter. Sam stood six feet two in his stockings, was built like a brown bear, and had a reputation as a brawler. He and Lou Minter retired to a secluded corner near the gun rack. Replenishing a relish tray near them, Serena overheard an animated discussion of the blackjack table at the Sahara. Serena glanced across the room at Sam Berry’s wife, Chrissie, caught a look of weariness, and felt a pang of sympathy. Why did some men have to be such asses?
Serena moved from group to group, smiling, hearing the latest gossip, and waiting for Jed to come. It was almost nine when she saw
him standing a little hesitantly in the archway to the den. He wore tan slacks and a blue polo shirt open at the throat. He looked strong and confident even in this roomful of hardy men. Serena was walking toward him, smiling, but she had taken only a few steps when Julie turned and reached out to take his hand and draw him into the circle around her.
Serena stopped. Before she could move again, Howard Minter blocked her way.
“Hey there, honey, you’re a real picture tonight.”
Serena looked up at him blankly. But it wasn’t for you, she thought, that I chose this blouse, wore my turquoise necklace.
She forced a smile. “How are you tonight, Mr. Minter?”
His heavy arm slid around her shoulders, and she could smell the thick sweetness of bourbon on his breath. “Oh now, we don’t have to be so formal. My name’s Howard. And you’re Serena. That’s a pretty name.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly.
“Here,” and he began to steer her toward the center of the long room and the open space where a few couples danced. “Let’s get in on this number. I’m a pretty good dancer.”
It would have been rude to pull away. Serena had been taught never to be rude.
She hated the feel of his hot heavy hand on her back, disliked being close to him, smelling the mixture of bourbon and a cloying men’s cologne. Over his shoulder, she could see Julie and Jed dancing close together, looking like a couple made for each other.
A heavy sense of foreboding settled over her.
Not again. Surely not again.
Julie was laughing up at Jed, tilting her head back. Her shining blonde hair swung free, showing the graceful line of her throat and shoulder.
Lovely, lovely Julie.
When the couples turned and Jed looked across the room, Serena’s face remained stolid and blank. The smile that began on his face slipped away and he had a glimpse of surprise in his dark blue eyes.
As the couples moved in the controlled circles of the dance and again Serena and Jed faced each other, she was ready with a smile, but this time Jed was looking down at Julie, his face absorbed and intent.
The dance seemed interminable to Serena, a parody of pleasure. As the music ended, she excused herself from Howard Minter on the plea of checking the kitchen. But when she saw Jed and Julie standing close together in a little oasis of privacy at the far end of the room, Serena turned and walked blindly toward the French windows.