Dinner was served in the beautifully restored dining room. It was a silent meal. Even though the food was delicious Julie ate very little. As she pushed her half-filled plate away Max observed, "You've hardly touched your food."
"I'm not hungry."
"You're eating for two now," he reminded her gently.
She smiled. "We're not hungry."
"Maybe we should call it a night. You look tired."
Julie pulled her plate toward her and picked up her fork. Eating seemed preferable to retiring to strange quarters with this cool, impassive stranger. She popped a green bean into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully as she tried to find something to say that would pass for polite conversation. "Did you call Shannon?"
Max nodded. "Yes, but if you'd like to speak to her, we can call again."
Julie shook her head. "I'll call her later." She lapsed into brooding silence.
Mrs. O'Brien came into the dining room, set a tray on the sideboard and proceeded to serve cake. "Mrs. Anderson, your business associate called earlier. He wants you to return his call. He says if you call after ten, he'll be at home."
"I'll call him now." Julie pushed back her chair.
Mrs. O'Brien's large, work-worn hand clamped onto her shoulder. "Not until you've finished your dinner."
Max couldn't suppress a smile. Before Julie could object he voiced his agreement. "And eat your cake. It's delicious."
Julie picked up her fork. "What time did Mr. Garner call?"
Mrs. O'Brien was stacking dishes and putting them on her tray. "About the time Mr. Max got back from the bunkhouse."
Max's chest heaved in silent laughter. He ducked his head and began to shovel cake into his mouth.
This woman could aggravate a saint. "And what time did Mr. Max get back from the bunkhouse?"
Mrs. O'Brien frowned. "It was just a while before I started dinner. So it must have been late in the afternoon." She disappeared through the swinging kitchen door.
Julie's mouth pulled into an unwilling smile. "She did that on purpose."
Max smiled. "I don't think so. Mrs. O'Brien isn't a clock watcher and she doesn't relate well to someone who is."
Julie doubted that, but arguing over so trivial a matter seemed a waste of time.
Mrs. O'Brien served Max coffee in the living room. After she had returned to the kitchen, Max asked, "Would you like to watch TV?" He was reclining in an easy chair with his feet resting on a wide cowhide footstool.
"Not really, but don't let that stop you."
Max shrugged. "I seldom watch TV." He picked up a newspaper and began to turn the pages. A halo of light from the lamp on the table beside him accentuated the strong set of his jaw. The dark shadow of beard was barely visible there. Even sitting in a chair completely relaxed and occupied with so mundane a task as scanning the newspaper there was about him an aura of sensuous strength and sexual magnetism.
An erotic scene from the past played across Julie's mind. She shivered as she recalled how it felt to have that strong body pressing down on hers, moving, driving, plunging until he brought her to the peak of sheer ecstasy. A jolt of raw desire ripped through her. Closing her eyes she clenched her jaw. The picture remained to burn behind her eyeballs. She opened her eyes to see Max staring at her with concern etched into his angular countenance.
"Are you all right?"
Julie pulled her eyes from his stare. What would he think, what would he do, if he could read her thoughts? "I'm a little tired."
Her downcast eyes studied the patterned weave of the carpet that covered the living room floor as from nowhere, it came--a knowledge that stripped away her self-deception and in a rare moment of truth brought her face to face with a long ignored reality. What she felt for this man was much more than mere passion. She loved him with a love that was deep as the ocean, abiding as time and enduring as the heavens. That revelation struck fear in her heart. Fear transmuted to profound sadness as another reality dawned. Max could never return that all-consuming love. How, she wondered as she lifted her eyes to stare into space, could she live under the same roof with him for the long months ahead knowing that he was committed to this strange arrangement because of a guilty conscience and pressure from his daughter?
"Julie?" Through a haze of pain, she heard her name. "You're a million miles away." Max laid the paper aside.
Julie shook her head trying to clear her brain. "I must call Royce."
Max unfolded his tall frame from the chair. "I'll get a telephone." He left the room to return a few minutes later carrying a telephone and a directory. Placing them on the table beside Julie he plugged the instrument into a jack in the wall and then returned to his chair without uttering a sound.
Julie picked up the phone and began to punch buttons. Max should have the decency to leave the room. He showed no inclination to stir from his chair. Under the circumstances she could hardly ask him to leave. This was his home and she was his guest. She wasn't even that. She was Max's burden, his cross to bear for the next six months.
The sound of Royce saying "Hello" cut across Julie's maudlin thoughts.
"Royce, it's me, Julie."
"Julie! Thank God. What took you so long to get back to me?" He sounded agitated and upset. "I called hours ago and left a message for you to call me as soon as possible."
Julie glanced at Max before explaining. "Mrs. O'Brien didn't give me your message until dinner."
Royce asked, "Who is Mrs. O'Brien?"
"She's Max's housekeeper. How are things at the restaurant?"
"Not bad, actually; the new cook seems to be working out well. She's not in your league, of course, but she's quite capable and a very willing worker."
"That's good." Julie wanted the new cook to succeed--or did she? The thought that someone could take her place, even temporarily was a little unsettling. "I miss being there."
"I know. I miss you being here, especially at the end of the day. There's no one to talk to, no one to make plans with..." His voice trailed away on the end of a little sigh.
"Nights are always the worst." She felt like such a traitor deserting Royce now, just when he needed her so badly and after the way he'd always been there for her. "But it's only for six months, and then I'll be home again, to stay."
"Is that a promise?"
"That's a promise. Tell me all the news. Have you heard from Dan? Did you find someone to help in the office?"
"I talked to Dan this evening. He's doing quite well. He likes his new job and he's making friends. I'm beginning to think he was wise to move away from Summerville." Then Royce went on to tell Julie that he was thinking of hiring a part-time bookkeeper. "Just until you get home, of course."
"Oh, Royce," Julie lamented, "You need me. I should be there."
"No," Royce responded quickly, "You concentrate on taking care of yourself and having a healthy baby. I'll hold down the fort until you get home. Now promise me you won't worry."
Tears gathered in Julie's eyes. "Royce, you're such a dear..." A tap on her shoulder interrupted her. Max had come to stand directly over her. With a swift, slashing movement, he jerked his finger across his throat. She gave him an annoyed look as she said into the receiver, "I have to go now."
Royce asked, "Will you call me tomorrow?"
The look on Max's face told her was in no mood to be challenged. "I'm seeing a doctor the first of the week. I'll call you after that."
Royce was insistent, "I'd like to hear from you every day, Julie."
"I'll call in a few days." Julie dropped the receiver into its cradle and glared up at Max. "That was rude and uncalled for."
Max replied coldly, "If talking to Royce is so upsetting maybe you shouldn't speak to him again."
"You're the one who is upsetting me." Julie wiped at a wayward tear.
"No more calls to Summerville. Do I make myself clear?" The words were delivered in a completely neutral tone; so neutral in fact that it took a while for their meaning to register.
Dawnin
g disbelief brought Julie's head up. "I beg your pardon!"
Max dropped down on the couch beside her. "You should. You're making my task extremely difficult. I'm responsible for your well-being until you deliver my child. If you don't have the good sense to take care of yourself, I have to do it for you."
So his concern was for his child. She should have known. "I would never do anything to harm my baby."
A wintry smile etched Max's face. "Getting upset may not cause harm but it doesn't do any good either."
"I'm not upset," Julie snapped peevishly. "And your responsibility for me doesn't extend into my personal life."
"There's nothing more personal than the fact that you're carrying my child and nothing more important right now."
As Julie opened her mouth to speak, Max held up his hand. "This conversation is over. Come along, it's your bedtime." He stood and extended his hand. "I'll help you to your room."
Never before had Julie felt so isolated and helpless. "I won't have you treating me like a child."
"Then stop acting like one."
Suddenly, Julie felt like the idiot-child Max seemed to think her to be. She pushed herself to a standing position and hurried toward the hall thinking as she went that she would have to learn to stay out of Max's line of fire. Since she couldn't manage geographical distance, psychological distance would have to suffice. And since he had set the pace why shouldn't she follow suit. She could be as formal and distant as he could any day in the week.
As they stopped before the sitting room door, Max pulled Julie around to face him. "Damn it, Julie, why can't you understand I'm trying to do what's best for you?"
A half dozen snide retorts slid through Julie's brain. She stopped them before they could find their way out through her mouth. "I accept your apology."
Max turned the knob and kicked the door open. Such a small sign of anger, but she could feel his pent-up hostility beating at her. "That wasn't an apology it was an explanation." He preceded her into the room.
"Then I accept your explanation." Julie closed the door, stretched her arms over her head, and yawned. "Good night, Max." She walked toward her bedroom.
Max was only a step behind her. "Good night, Julie. Sleep well." Before she could answer, he veered to the left and went into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Julie awoke the next morning with renewed determination to keep psychological distance between herself and Max. Her plans were for naught and her concern was unnecessary. Max was out of the house most of the weekend. The little time he did spend in her presence, he was polite and distant making her believe that he too, was more comfortable behind a protective wall of reserve and formality.
It was well after nine o'clock the following evening before she saw Max again. He came through the sitting room door, paused for a moment and then tossed his hat on a chair. "Hello, Julie. Sorry I'm late."
He looked strained and tired. She laid her magazine aside. "Good evening, Max."
He raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Is it? I hadn't noticed." He dropped into a chair across from her. "You have a doctor's appointment tomorrow."
Julie had thought of little else for the last twelve hours. "I know."
"The appointment is for ten o'clock. We should leave the ranch a little after eight."
He was carrying this protective nonsense a little far. "I can take myself."
Max's face bore a look of longsuffering forbearance. "Why must you fight me at every turn? Do you enjoy being obstinate and difficult?"
"I'm not being difficult, I'm being practical. You have more important things to do than chauffeur me around."
"As a matter of fact, I do, but they can wait."
Now he was being insulting. "Take care of your important business. I can manage alone, thank you."
Max smiled a sardonic grin that left Julie cold. "Things would go much better for the both of us for the next few months if you would be a little more cooperative."
A resigned calm settled over Julie. "You're going with me."
"You're right." Max stood and walked toward his bedroom door. "Be ready by eight-fifteen."
Julie protested, "But my appointment is not until ten. The drive from here to Burke's Crossing shouldn't take over thirty or forty minutes."
Max stopped and stood with his back to her. "Julie, for God's sake will you stop arguing?"
Julie didn't consider a statement of fact an argument and she told him so.
Max's shoulders tensed. I have an earlier appointment. Be ready to go by eight-fifteen."
Oh, how she wanted to ask where he had an appointment, and with whom. Her stubborn pride wouldn't let her. "Why didn't you say so?"
"Because it's really not any of your business."
Those bland words stung, but he was right, she was not a part of his life. And as painful as it was to admit, she probably never would be. "I didn't mean to pry."
Turning, he faced her. "And I didn't mean to snap at you." He sounded almost contrite. "I have an appointment to meet someone in Burke's Crossing tomorrow at nine."
She was being overly sensitive again but the bruised ache around her heart wouldn't go away. "I'll be ready by eight-fifteen."
"Julie..." Max spoke her name softly and then swore, "Damn!"
"And in the future I'll try to be a little more cooperative."
Max dropped into the chair near the door. "It's not you, it's me. I'm not handling this very well." Drawing a ragged breath he added, "I think we need to talk."
Julie was oh so cautious, "About what?" Was he going to ask her to leave? Common sense told her it would be best for all concerned if she did.
"I know that this is not the ideal situation, but we have to cope with it for the next few months. Maybe if we laid down some ground rules it would be a little more pleasant for both of us."
"What kind of truce?" She knew how clever he was with words. "What kind of ground rules?"
"I've thought about this all weekend." Max fitted his shoulders against the back of the chair. "I believe I've come up with a workable solution to our problem."
Julie thought that even Max was not that much of a genius. Folding her hands in her lap she waited for him to speak.
His questioning gaze lingered over her face. "Are you interested in trying it?"
"I might be, if I knew what it was." Her voice softened. "Why don't you explain?"
A smile erased the lines of tension in Max's face. "Our problem is we're too bound up in the past and too concerned about the future to concentrate on the present."
What he said was true. It also seemed irrelevant. "We can't change what was." Nor could Julie stop being concerned about the many uncertainties that lay ahead. "Or control what is to be."
"I know but we could stop letting the past and the future disturb our present."
Now he was being absurd. "To do that we would have to exist in a vacuum, or find a way to place ourselves in some state of suspended animation."
"Nothing that drastic." Max was smiling but his eyes were grave. "What I'm suggesting is that we try to make the next few months a little more bearable."
She had been here less than three days and already Max was pronouncing the situation unbearable. But he did have a point. It was well taken. Julie said so and then waited with resigned acceptance for him to explain.
"I'm talking about the willing suspension of linear time."
"Have you lost your mind?" Julie's laughter rang out into the tense atmosphere. "No one can suspend time."
"Oh, but we can, if not actually, at least figuratively."
What was he up to now? "How?"
"By living in the moment; suppose from this moment forward we live as though time was on hold. We could operate on the supposition that for us, there was no worrisome tomorrow and no troublesome yesterday."
"How long do you think that would last?" Julie's doubts were giving way to cautious optimism. Maybe the suggestion had possibilities.
One of Max's shoulders rose
and then fell. "I don't know but isn't it worth a try?"
"Living for the moment?" Julie had never dared do that. On the surface it sounded childish and a little foolish, but then if it worked...
"Maybe it's time you gave it a try." Max said.
Maybe it was. "You said we should lay down some rules. What kind of rules?"
Max couldn't quite hide his surprise or his enthusiasm. "If we can agree on rules are you willing to give it a try?"
What did she have to lose? "Why not?"
Max vaulted to a standing position. "Now comes the hard part. Are you willing to temporarily sever your ties with the past?"
Julie wasn't sure she could do that even if she wanted to. "How is that possible?"
"Stop calling Royce, stop worrying about your restaurant and stop counting the days until you can go back to Summerville."
She couldn't believe he'd suggest such a thing. "I can't do that."
Max came to sit beside her. "Yes, you can. It will take some exercise of will but if I can do it, so can you." He scooted to the end of the couch and leaned against the padded arm." I'm meeting with my attorney in Burke's Crossing tomorrow morning to sign some papers, after that my affairs will be in order. I won't be making any more trips to Dallas, not for the next six months, at least."
Julie had no right to ask questions but she did. "What affairs? Did you speak to Andrea?"
"Mostly business affairs, but yes, I spoke to Andrea also."
Jealously beat a syncopated rhythm through Julie's veins. "And?"
"And everything is settled. If you can do the same then maybe we can get on with the job of delivering a healthy baby."
He was asking her not to see or speak to Royce again for six months. Could she do that? She had the distinct feeling that things here would be much more pleasant for her if she could. "I'll have to talk to Royce one more time."
Max must have expected as much. "But only once and then no more until the six months is up. Agreed?"
"And you won't speak to Andrea again, or run off to take care of some business problem?"
Max lifted his arm. "I won't. I promise."
Julie hesitated and then plunged ahead. "All right, I promise, too."
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