LEGEND

by Jude Deveraux

  Chapter 26

  THE KITCHEN OF THE OLD HOUSE LOOKED VERY MUCH LIKE the one in Cole’s fantasy house, with a huge cast-iron stove and a big oak worktable sitting in the middle of the room. Next to the kitchen was a pantry that was stocked to the ceiling with every conceivable canned good and great bags of flour and rice. Outside the window was a patch of herbs that were struggling to stay alive in spite of years of neglect.

  Grabbing canned tomatoes and a bag of apples from the pantry floor, Kady carried them back to the kitchen. “Tarik, darling,” she mocked aloud as she grabbed an apple and a dull paring knife. “Aren’t I just too, too divine for words.”

  Tarik chuckled from the doorway. “Don’t let Wendell get to you. She’s been that way since she was a kid.”

  “And what way is that? Tall, beautiful, and a bitch?”

  “Let’s just say that she doesn’t have many women friends. What are you doing?”

  She looked up at him as though he were terminally stupid. She was so angry with him, what with not believing her about the opening in the rock, then that horrid woman, then frightening her with his mock battle with Luke, that she could hardly speak. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “If you’re planning to cook dinner, and I hope you are, I think I had better warn you that Uncle Hannibal isn’t a gourmet. He won’t like squid ink pasta or anything dribbled with balsamic vinegar; besides, all you’ve got to cook on is that,” he said as he nodded toward the cast-iron stove. “Ever seen one of those before?”

  Kady gave him a look that should have warned him but didn’t. “I’ve seen a few in history books.”

  Tarik took one of the apples she’d just peeled. “Maybe you should get Uncle Hannibal to show you how to work that stove.”

  “Or maybe Luke would show me,” she said sweetly.

  “Trying to make me jealous?”

  “Trying to improve my sex life,” she said without thinking.

  “Oh?” he said with interest as he took a step toward her. “I could—”

  “You take one step closer and you’ll be missing some body parts.”

  Smiling, he stepped away. “I’ll leave you to it then, and I shall look forward to dinner. But, remember, nothing outlandish. Just something simple, like, like . . .”

  “How about spaghetti and apple pie? Or is spaghetti too foreign for your very conventional family?” she asked innocently. Hannibal and his two “children” were anything but conventional.

  “No, no, that’s fine,” he said, smiling, seeming to enjoy that he was making her angry. “If you need me, I’ll be outside. I want to see that Harley Wendell was on. Good-looking machine, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid I’ve never been butch enough to learn much about motorcycles. Tell me, does she also chew tobacco and play football with the men?”

  As he bit into his apple, he gave her a look that nearly singed her hair. “Wendell does whatever she wants whenever she wants with whomever she wants.”

  “Yes, and I can see that it has made her into a very nice person.”

  As Tarik left, chuckling, closing the door behind him, Kady threw a handful of apple peels at him.

  After Tarik left, she was thinking about that dreadful red-haired—

  “May I help?” Luke said meekly from the doorway. “And can you really cook?”

  There was a sweetness about him that reminded her of Cole. She smiled and gestured for him to join her. “Come in and talk to me while I cook. Tell me everything about your family.”

  Luke helped himself to a slice of apple. “About the Jordans or about my cousin Tarik in particular?”

  “I have no interest in him whatever. None. He is free to do whatever he wants. He can—” She stopped because Luke was grinning at her.

  “Right. And the way the two of you look at each other could set the barn on fire. So where do you want me to start? With his mother, his father, or his girlfriends?”

  Kady kept her eyes down on the apples she was peeling and didn’t look up at him.

  Luke lowered his voice. “Or would you rather that I tell you about his dreams?”

  “What dreams?” she said sharply.

  “Of a little girl on a pony. A little girl with lots of dark hair in a fat braid down her back. Actually, she had a braid very much like yours. Interested?”

  “Maybe,” she said as though she didn’t want to hear every word.

  “Oh, well, then, I guess I better go outside and help my sister tune her carburetor.”

  “Sit!” Kady ordered, pointing with the knife.

  “And what do I get if I rat on my own flesh and blood?”

  “A meal better than any you’ve ever eaten in your life,” she said seriously.

  With eyes wide, Luke stared at her. “Alexandria, Virginia! Onions! Kady with a d. That’s who you are.”

  Kady couldn’t help giving a smile of pleasure. “Exactly. So sit down here and talk to me while I prepare dinner.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Luke said as he took a seat across the table, where she put him to work peeling the rest of the apples.

  Luke talked while Kady worked quickly and efficiently. He repeated what Kady had already heard about the neglect of Tarik’s parents, but she had to keep her eyes lowered when Luke said he’d never seen his cousin so relaxed and smiling. “You’ve done something to him,” Luke said. “It didn’t take me two minutes to see that he’s not his usual quiet, mysterious self. When I was a kid, he used to visit Legend, but he’d disappear for days at a time. No one knew where he went. Both Wendell and I used to try to follow him, but he easily lost us. But today . . . With you . . .”

  Kady refused to give any weight to Luke’s words. “I’m sure that if he brought a girlfriend up here, he would have—”

  “He did once. When Wendell wasn’t here, of course. His girlfriend was so frightened of the coyotes’ howling that Tarik took her back to town the next day.”

  “Tarik,” Kady said softly. “Did you know that in New York people don’t know his name?”

  Luke gave a one-sided grin so like Tarik’s that Kady had to look away. “Private man. Very private. So tell me about you, Kady. Why did you marry my taciturn cousin?”

  Kady didn’t want to talk about herself, she wanted to listen. “Come outside to gather herbs with me and tell me about his dream.”

  Smiling, Luke followed her outside as Kady gathered herbs, explaining that, all his life, Tarik had had a dream of a little girl on a pony. When he was a child, he used to say that she was his best friend and that she was going to come live with him. His fantasies about the little girl were a family joke.

  After they returned to the house, Kady listened intently as she wielded a rolling pin. She was making fazzolétto, handkerchief pasta: whole leaves of herbs were rolled between transparently fine layers of pasta, then cut into sheets to show the beauty of the pattern. There was no time to make her usual three-hour tomato sauce, so she used canned tomatoes, onions, and herbs.

  For dessert, she made a tarte tatin, one of the most divine dishes ever created: caramelized butter and sugar covered with a dozen apples sliced paper thin, cooked on top of the stove, then a round of flaky pastry put on top, baked until golden brown, and at last the whole thing was turned upside down onto a plate. It was almost as beautiful as it was delicious.

  At about seven o’clock in the evening, everyone began showing up, enticed by the smells coming from the open windows of the house. Hannibal looked as though he’d been working in the mines, as his clothes were flecked with rock dust. Wendell still wore her black leather, but she’d put on even more makeup, making Kady wonder how she could lift her eyelids when they were so weighted down with mascara.

  As for Tarik, he came in last and from the rolled-eyed looks of reproof that Wendell gave him, Kady didn’t think they had spent the afternoon together after all. Not that it mattered to her, of course, but as she turned away, she smiled. Then she began to wonder where he had been, for Tarik was very dirty, wi
th mud on his shoes and another streak of mud on one cheek.

  Kady was pleased to see that her meal was a great hit with each of Tarik’s relatives. Even Wendell managed to look impressed. With her breath held, Kady waited for Uncle Hannibal’s opinion. Maybe something as pretty as fazzolétto wouldn’t suit him. But he ate without any comment.

  After the meal everyone retired to the porch to sit on chairs and enjoy the cool night air. When Tarik sat on the rail, Wendell immediately moved her chair so she was sitting nearly at his feet. As for Kady, she took a chair at the far side of the porch.

  Uncle Hannibal leaned back in his rocking chair, picking his teeth with a toothpick. “Kady, girl, if you weren’t already married, after that meal, I’d ask for your hand myself.”

  It took Kady a moment to realize that he was teasing her—or was he?—then she smiled and told him that she would seriously consider his proposal.

  After that Luke told her that he had a law degree and a beautiful apartment in Denver and he’d also like to marry her.

  At this Wendell pointed out that Kady already had a husband and she also owned the town. “Isn’t that enough for one woman?”

  “Nothing’s ever been enough for you, big sister,” Luke said, and this would have started an argument, but Tarik halted it by telling them all that yes, Kady already had a husband and they had better not forget it.

  “Luke, if you’re a lawyer,” Kady said, “do you think that a marriage certificate that is dated a hundred and twenty years ago is valid today?”

  Luke looked from Tarik to Kady. “No, I don’t think so. Why? Was such an error made on your marriage certificate?”

  “Computer error,” Hannibal said as though he was a programmer and knew about these things.

  “It was handwritten,” Kady said.

  “Computer fonts today are amazing, aren’t they?” Tarik said, smiling.

  “Now that you mention it,” Luke said, looking toward Tarik, “I was wondering how you two managed to get married in secret. I would have thought your mother would have put on a wedding the size of Alaska.”

  “Yes, boy, now that I think of it, why weren’t we invited to the wedding?” Hannibal asked, his prophet-face back in place.

  All eyes were on Tarik, especially Kady’s. If Uncle Hannibal found out they weren’t married, would he toss them out of Legend? If he did that, would she ever have a chance to help Ruth?

  As though the conversation didn’t interest him in the least, Tarik stood and stretched. “Neither of you are going to get her so you can stop looking for loopholes. She’s married to me no matter what that piece of paper says.” Smiling, he looked down at Kady. “Besides, if we weren’t married, I’d see no reason for us to stay here and try to go through any doorways, do you? Shall we take the blue bedroom, Uncle Hannibal?”

  “It’s always yours,” Hannibal answered, smiling beneficently at Kady.

  “What doorway?” Luke asked with interest.

  Tarik put his arm around Kady. “A doorway that doesn’t concern little boys like you.”

  Luke laughed confidently. “I may be a boy to you, Cousin Tarik, but not to the ladies.”

  “Tarik, honey,” Wendell purred, “you can’t be going to bed now. It’s the shank of the evening. I’m sure your little . . . friend must be tired after all that chopping and peeling, but you and I . . . Well, as you remember, at this time of day we’re usually just getting started.”

  When Wendell fluttered her heavy lashes, Kady feared the breeze was going to blow the chairs off the porch. “Yes, darling,” Kady said sarcastically, “why don’t you stay here and help Wendell with a . . . a fan belt or something? I’m sure you two can find lots of boy things to do together. As for me, I have knitting and crocheting that will keep me busy in my rocker. Good night everyone.” Opening the door, she went inside the house.

  Tarik followed her, but he halted at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her, and for a moment there was pain on his face. “I . . . I think I’ll stay downstairs for a while.”

  Kady put her nose into the air. It didn’t matter to her what he did, but as she glanced toward the open door she saw that Wendell was listening avidly. Over Wendell’s painted mouth, her eyes held an expression of such knowing smugness that Kady’s heart tightened into a little knot.

  “Whatever,” Kady said and mounted the stairs, but Tarik caught her hand on the rail.

  “Look, it’s not what you think,” he said softly so the others couldn’t hear. “I have to take care of something. I’ll be up when I can.”

  “Are you under the impression that I want you to share the same bedroom with me?” she hissed, looking down at him.

  It was as though he hadn’t heard her. “I want nothing more than to spend the night with you, but I have to—”

  “You are too vain for words! Go on and stay with your cousin. Or is Leonie flying in to visit you? There is nothing between us except—”

  She didn’t say any more because he vaulted over the stair rail, took her into his arms, and kissed her until she was limp.

  “Don’t you think it’s time that we stopped playing games? You know as well as I do that we were meant to be with each other. Destined, if you like. Ever since that first day when I looked into your eyes, I . . .” He trailed off as he smoothed the hair back from her face, tucking a curl behind her ear.

  “You what?” she asked, looking up at him. When he touched her, she had trouble thinking clearly.

  “Since that first day I’ve known that I love you.”

  “That’s not true!” she said, trying to push away from him. Two men had told her they loved her, and they had both turned out to be false. Gregory had wanted to use her to make money, and Cole was—

  “It is true,” he said, holding her, not allowing her to move from his arms. “We have loved each other for a long time. I think maybe we loved each other before we even met.”

  “How absurd. That’s ridiculous.” Again she tried to push away, but he wouldn’t release her.

  “You don’t have to tell me now that you love me,” he said. “First I want to earn your trust.”

  “In which woman’s bed?” she spat at him. “And what about your engagement to the skinny Leonie?”

  “I broke it the day you threw the papers on my floor. She’s out of my life.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said, trying not to look at him, for she couldn’t bear to look into his eyes. “We hardly know each other, and you only came here because of Ruth’s codicil and—”

  “There is no codicil,” he said softly.

  “And you live in a different world than I do, and you—What do you mean, ‘There is no codicil’?”

  “There, that’s better,” he said, smiling because she’d stopped struggling to get away and was now looking up at him in disbelief. “I made up all of it. I’m a good actor.”

  “You aren’t an actor, you’re a liar!”

  “Whatever you want to call it. Mmmm, you taste good.” He was nuzzling her neck. “That was very funny that you said you were going to cook spaghetti and an apple pie. That’s like comparing a Ferrari to a bus. How do you remember all those ingredients? Do you carry a cookbook with you?”

  “I have an ability to remember recipe ingredients. I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  Kady did her best to move her neck away from his mouth. She must keep her wits about her. With surprising strength, she managed to push away somewhat, but his hands were still clasped behind her back.

  “What do you mean that there is no codicil? What did Ruth’s letter to you say? In fact, why are you here?”

  With a sigh, Tarik dropped his hands from her body. He was never going to be able to answer questions if he kept touching her. “My ancestress, Ruth Jordan, left me a letter saying something about her having commissioned you with the task of trying to make her grandson Cole live past nine years of age. She asked that I help you accomplish this task.”r />
  “But you don’t believe that I can do it.”

  “I don’t want you to try.”

  “Why not?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Because my ancestor was killed with bullets. If you stop him from being shot, maybe you will be shot instead.”

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Seems to me that you two women didn’t think out a great many things. Such as a will like hers not holding up in court. And besides, my family has known about that will for many years. We took precautions.”

  Kady blinked at him, trying to understand what he was saying. “Are you telling me that all this was a setup?”

  “More or less.”

  “Mr. Fowler—”

  “He knows nothing. He thought you would be the owner of everything, and he thought he was returning it all back to me at your request.” When he saw her face, he knew he’d told her too much too soon. “Look, sweetheart, let’s talk about this later. Now, standing on the stairs, is not the place to talk about—”

  “Talk about how you’ve laughed at me, lied to me, and generally manipulated me?”

  “Well, yes, I did, but it was all for a good cause.”

  “And what would that be?” she said through clenched teeth.

  “The first moment I saw you I knew that I loved you, but I wanted to know if you loved me too.”

  “I don’t love you,” she said angrily. “I can’t stand you! You have ridiculed me, laughed at me, made fun of my cooking, and—And I never want to see you again,” she said as she started to move around him to go up the stairs.

  “Kady, honey, darling, sweetheart, you don’t mean that. I had to do all this. After what that bastard Gregory did to you, you wouldn’t have believed me if I’d said I loved you that first day in my office.”

  “I don’t believe you now, so what’s the difference?”

  “Yes you do,” he said with absolute confidence. “Your eyes say it, the way you move says it.”

  “You should take a course in reading, then, because I don’t love you and never will. I don’t even like you.”