by Janet Dailey
"Leave Julie alone! If anyone needs to be lectured, it's me." The anger in his voice was barely controlled.
Silent sobs began to shake Julie's shoulders. Her trembling fingers pulled the coverlet closer around her; she hunched her shoulders beneath it. Despite what Ruel said, she knew she was as much to blame for what happened as he was.
A hand touched her shoulder and she cringed from it. Her tear-filled eyes were aware of Ruel standing beside her, but she couldn't turn to him. He hesitated.
"It was my fault. I'll explain to Em," he promised quietly. "Julie, I have to go now."
She couldn't lift her head to look at him. She wasn't sure if she could look at anyone in the face again. She simply nodded that she had heard what he said as she drowned in her private sea of misery.
She heard him walk to the door. When it closed, she slumped onto the bed, tortured sobs racking her body. It had all seemed so beautiful and right, and now it had become sordid and wrong.
In the hallway she heard Em's voice. "I thought I heard her scream, Ruel."
"Oh, my God, Em!" Ruel sighed angrily. "She saw a lizard and it frightened her. I heard her cry out, too. That's why I . . . Oh, what the hell!"
Both their footsteps retreated down the hallway and Julie didn't hear any more of their conversation. She cried—for what she'd done and what she'd lost. It was a long time before the well went dry. She lay on the bed in a stupor of pain after it was over.
She knew she couldn't hide in her room forever. Sooner or later she would have to face the others. Struggling out of the coverlet, she walked to the bathroom and scrubbed her reddened and swollen face. From the closet, she took her long house robe and put it on, zipping it all the way to her throat. Then taking the hairbrush, she began raking it through her tangled hair with punishing force.
There was a knock at the door and she froze. "Wh-Who is it?"
"It's me, Emily. May I come in?" This time she waited for permission before entering.
If only she'd done that the last time, Julie wished sadly. At least the results wouldn't have been so humiliating. Heat flooded her cheeks as she turned away from the door.
"Come in," she said.
When the door opened, Julie didn't turn around. She continued to brush her hair, stroke after stroke. She heard Emily step in and close the door. She kept her back turned to the woman.
"I want you to know, Julie," Emily began quietly, "that coming here is very painful to me, as painful as it is to you. But it's important that we have this talk."
"I quite understand why you're here," Julie admitted, and lowered the brush. She closed a hand around the bristles, letting them dig into her palm. The physical pain was preferable to Emily's gentleness.
"I did cause you a great deal of embarrassment by walking in like I did. For that, I apologize. However, you must know that I will not tolerate a repetition of this afternoon."
"Yes," Julie nodded, "I guessed that would be how you felt. You needn't worry about asking me to leave. I'm willing to give you my resignation and forfeit whatever salary I have coming. I'll leave tonight if you wish."
"Leave? I don't want you to leave, Julie," Emily protested. "That was never my intention."
"Please." Julie turned, trying to salvage some of her pride. "I know what you must think of me and—"
"I think you're a human being, capable of moments of weakness," Emily Harmon interrupted. "I don't condemn you for what happened, but neither will I condone it."
"I don't expect you to." Julie crimsoned, her gaze falling away under the directness of Emily's.
"My nephew is a handsome, virile man—I've been aware of that for a long time. You're a young, beautiful woman, so it's perfectly natural for an attraction to spring up between you. Unfortunately I can't permit this affair to continue."
"Yes, Ruel has already mentioned that he doesn't generally become involved with hired help." A hint of self-pity crept into her biting reply.
"Hired help? I don't consider you hired help, Julie," the older woman sounded indignant. "You seem practically a member of the family to me. Whatever faults I may have, I never have looked down on anyone because they worked for someone."
"I'm sorry, Emily."
With a sigh, Julie replaced the hairbrush on the dressing table and walked to the French doors. The gauzelike sheer panels cast a film over the courtyard, darkening with the twilight shadows.
"I seem to be making a mess of this," Emily sighed. "I think I do understand what happened here, Julie. Ruel is a charming and persuasive individual when he chooses to be."
"Oh, please!" Julie whirled around in protest. "Regardless of what he told you, Ruel isn't the only one to blame for what happened. I was a very willing participant."
"I didn't mean to suggest that he was forcing himself on you or seducing you against your will. I believe I'm aware that your desires were mutual."
"They were." Embarrassment rouged Julie's cheeks even as she admitted the truth.
"I hope you don't think that I've reached the age of fifty-nine without having experienced the heat of passion. I do know what it's like to be carried away by my emotions," Emily said with gentle patience. "I never married, but that doesn't mean I was never in love."
"I know it doesn't," Julie murmured.
"My lover was stationed here in the military. I lived for those hours when he was off duty and could get a pass to see me. The world seemed perfect when I was in his arms. The moments we stole to be together were the most precious." There was a beautifully poignant quality to her voice. "When he left, he promised he would come back to me, and I believed him."
"What happened?" Julie's own pain was put aside for a moment, replaced by compassion for the woman who had become like a friend to her.
A rueful smile twisted Emily's mouth. "He went back to Georgia and married his high school sweetheart."
"I'm sorry, Emily."
"It was all a very long time ago and has little bearing on today." Emily shrugged off the sympathy, primly squaring her shoulders. "You and Ruel are adults. If you feel strongly about each other, I can't prevent it. If you wish to see each other, if you wish to go out on dates, I can't stop you—I wouldn't even try. You would have my blessing. But I will not permit the two of you to carry on an intimate relationship in this house."
"I promise you it will never happen again," Julie vowed.
"You do understand why? I have Debbie to consider. She's sixteen, not yet an adult and I want to instill in her a sense of values, a respect for herself as well as others. How she decides to live when she's on her own is beyond my control, but in the meantime, I can control her home environment and I will."
A tightness gripped Julie's throat. She was reminded again of how very fond Emily was of her niece. The woman was so selfless in her love that Julie's admiration for her knew no bounds.
"So you understand, Julie, I didn't come here to embarrass you by bringing up what happened. I care about you too much to ever deliberately attempt to humiliate you. But I wanted to make it clear to you why I disapproved so strongly about what happened. I'm not a prude. I simply love my niece," Emily concluded with touching simplicity.
"And I know she loves you, too, Emily." It was a surprise to discover a slight welling of tears in her eyes. Julie had thought they were all gone.
"In that case, why don't you get dressed and join me for dinner?" Emily suggested. "It's five minutes after seven and Malia will think no one is coming for dinner."
Not twenty minutes ago Julie had not cared whether she ever had another meal again. The thought of eating would have made her gag. Now, after being subjected to Emily's healing gentleness, the idea was not unpleasant.
"It will only take me a few minutes to dress and I'll be right down," she promised.
"I'll give you exactly five minutes to dress before Malia starts serving," was the warning.
Julie believed she meant it. Emily always meant what she said—that was one of the good things about her. People always
knew where they stood.
The private discussion had eliminated any chance of strain between the two women. Their dinner was typical of many they had shared together over the last months. Afterward Malia reminded Julie that she had not been in to see Debbie yet, so she corrected the omission.
"Hi!" Her cheerfulness was fairly genuine as she entered Debbie's bedroom. A wheelchair occupied a corner of the room. "It won't be long before you start joining us for dinner in the evenings."
"I think I've forgotten what it's like to eat at a table. Auntie Em will have to teach me my manners all over again," the girl joked.
"How'd all the tests and X-rays go at the hospital?''
Debbie's answer was a long and detailed one, colored with incidents with doctors and interns and nurses. In quick summary, she concluded that she was progressing faster than the doctors had thought she would.
"That's great," Julie smiled.
Keen dark eyes gave her a long look. "Have you been crying? Your eyes look a little bloodshot, Julie."
"I went swimming this afternoon. Maybe the chlorine in the pool irritated them." Julie didn't exactly lie; she avoided the answer.
"I sure would like to know what's going on around this place," Debbie sighed. "First Malia tells me you'll be in to see me before dinner, then Emily comes in to say you have a headache and aren't feeling well. You're in your room and may not be down for dinner. Now you say you went swimming."
"What's so strange about that?" Julie asked. "I could have gone swimming, got too much sun, had a headache, didn't feel well and lay down for awhile. Now I'm better."
"Yes, which is why Ruel went slamming through the house before he left, shouting in whispers at Aunt Em. And it was something about you."
"Oh?" Julie edged away from the bed, turning at right angles to the girl. "What did you hear him say about me?"
"Something about coming back early to talk to you and warning Em about something. I couldn't understand it all. What was it about? Did you have another fight? What does Aunt Em have to do with it?" Her curiosity was almost more than Debbie could contain.
"I didn't have any argument with your brother," she could answer quite truthfully. "I don't know any more than you do what he might have been talking about."
"Why don't you trust me, Julie?" Debbie sighed.
"I trust you," she laughed, but with a hint of reserve. "You've had a long day, better get some rest."
After exchanging good-nights, Julie returned to the living room where Emily was reading. She sat on the sofa and glanced through a magazine. The more she thought about Debbie's comment that Ruel planned to come back early, the more she wasn't ready to see him. She discovered a yellow streak of cowardice running down her back.
"If you don't mind, Emily, I think I'll go to bed. I'm tired," Julie straightened to her feet.
"Ruel said he would be home in another hour or two. He wanted to speak to you," Emily said. "Perhaps you should wait up for him."
"No." Julie refused with a decisive shake of her head. "I'd rather not see him tonight."
"Is that what you want me to tell him?" Emily studied her thoughtfully.
"It's the truth. Besides, I'm tired. It's been an emotionally tiring day." Julie answered. "And I don't think I could cope with a discussion tonight with Ruel."
"I understand," the other woman smiled and nodded. "The morning is soon enough, when the mind is rested and the wits are clear."
Chapter Twelve
A ROSY DAWN crept softly into the bedroom. Slowly Julie raised her lashes to study the sunrise pinking her room. Pushing aside the covers, she climbed out of bed. It looked like a beautiful morning and she didn't feel like missing it. As she started toward the French doors, she saw a piece of paper had been slipped under the door.
Bending down, she picked it up. It was a note addressed to her. She unfolded it and read the bold handwriting: "Julie—Come riding with me this morning. 9.30 in front of the house. Ruel."
She stared at it, reading the message again. It seemed a cold, impersonal thing. Folding it up, she fingered the crease. She wanted more time to think before she met him. The yellow streak down her back hadn't gone away overnight.
Today was Saturday. Julie walked to her closet and took out a pair of jeans and a blouse. She slipped into her bikini, put the clothes over it and folded a clean beach towel to put in her beach bag.
She walked to the French doors and opened them. There was no one in the courtyard below and no sound of anyone stirring in the house. Stealthily and quietly, she made her way along the lanai to the stairs.
Reaching the circular driveway, she hurried down the private lane. She didn't pause to admire the panoramic view of the coastline as she made her descent of the switchback. When she reached the junction with the highway, the bus that passed Waimea Bay was just approaching. She waved to the driver to stop, climbed aboard and swung breathlessly into a seat.
The beach was deserted at that early morning hour and Julie had it all to herself. A mould of volcanic rock rose from the sand at the water's edge and jutted into the bay. The rock was often used as a diving board by the more brave and daring swimmers. But Julie wanted only a place to sit and think. With her beach towel as a cushion, she settled onto a ledge.
In the sheltered bay, the gentle waves caressed the shore like adoring slaves. The air was soft and pure, warmed by the steadily rising sun and stirred by the breath of the lazy tradewinds. Behind the bay rose the proud cliffs that had seen the first white man land on the island.
Losing herself in the silent reverie of nature's beauty, it was some time before Julie turned her thoughts inward. Emily would be at the breakfast table on the lanai about now. She had sometimes left before breakfast on Saturdays before so Emily would find nothing amiss in her absence.
Ruel would be expecting her to go riding with him, but Julie wasn't prepared to face him yet. She wondered what his opinion was of her, after what happened yesterday. True, he had defended her and taken the blame for what happened. But she kept wondering how he regarded her—desired her, but was that the only basis for their relationship? Yesterday that had been enough for her. Today? Sighing, Julie didn't think she knew.
Laughing, shouting voices came from the beach, and she turned to see a family wading and splashing into the water. Sunbathers were scattered along the golden strand of beach. She was no longer the sole occupant of the scene. A pair of adventurous boys were clambering over the mound of cinder rock toward her.
Standing, she gathered her beach towel and bag and vacated the natural diving platform. On the beach, she walked to an open area of sand and lay out her towel, then stripping down to her swimsuit, she went for a short dip in the warm waters of the bay. When she emerged from the sea she stretched out on the towel to let the sun dry her.
Someone came trotting across the sand toward her, but she didn't bother to open her eyes. Someone was always running across the sand—swimmers, children, joggers. She felt no curiosity to identify who was who.
"California? Julie! I thought I recognized you, but I wasn't sure." Frank stopped beside her, his hands at his sides. His expression hovered between a gladness to see her and an accusation of betrayal.
"Hello, Frank. What are you doing here?" Sitting up, Julie brushed the sand from her palms in an attempt at nonchalance. She hadn't seen Frank since that night at the restaurant with Ruel.
"I stop at this beach every weekend looking for you," he answered. "You didn't come last Sunday. What happened? Did you and Chandler have such a big night that you slept all the next day? Or didn't you come because he forbade it?" he taunted bitterly.
"Stop it, Frank." Her voice was low and stiff with control.
"Where's the big man today?" he jeered.
"Last week you told Ruel that he didn't own me," Julie reminded him, her brown eyes flashing with amber caution lights. "Well, neither do you, Frank. So maybe you'd just better leave. Take your surfboard and go cool off somewhere."
"Oh, Julie!" His
sigh seemed to drain away his bitter anger as he sank to his knees on the sand beside her. "I guess it's pretty obvious I was jealous. When I saw you at the restaurant, I wanted to go berserk."
"I didn't know you worked there," she offered in the way of an apology.
"I guessed that after I saw Chandler. Or at least, I didn't think you would come there with him deliberately, knowing how I felt about you," Frank qualified. "All along I've been thinking you were my girl. I didn't realize he was beating my time. What were you doing going out with him?" Instead of anger, this time there was hurt.
"He asked me to have dinner with him, and I accepted." She locked her hands around her knees and studied the position.
"But why?"
"Because I wanted to accept," she admitted. "I wanted to have dinner with him."
"It must be really convenient, both of you living in the same house and all," Frank breathed in disgust. "Whenever Chandler gets bored, he simply looks to you to be entertained for a while."
"It's not like that at all." Was it? Julie whitened at the thought.
"Why didn't you come last Sunday?" His dark eyes mirrored the rejection he felt.
"Probably because I knew this would happen and I didn't want to discuss Ruel with you. And I don't want to discuss him with you now." Unclasping her hands, Julie lay back on the towel and closed her eyes. She hoped he would take the hint and drop the subject.
"Don't you think I have the right to an explanation?" Frank questioned in a righteous tone.
"No. We're just friends, Frank," she insisted.
"We're a little more than that," he protested. "You're my California girl—everybody knows that."
"I'm not your girl." She kept her voice even.
"Are you his girl?" he accused.
A twisting stab of pain went through her, poignant and sharp. "I'm not anybody's girl. And I told you I didn't want to discuss Ruel," she snapped.
"What happened? Has he dropped you already?" Frank jeered.
"Frank!" Opening her eyes, she shot him a warning look.
"Okay, we won't talk about him," he agreed grudgingly, his dark brows drawing together in a furrow of irritation. "If that's what you want, we'll forget about him."