by Diana Palmer
“Oh, thank God, you’re all right,” she whispered. “We were so afraid…I’ve got to call the house,” she added. “Baker and Mindy are here.”
“Baker came?” she managed. “He shouldn’t have, his heart…”
“Wild horses couldn’t have kept him away, and he’s much better. He and Mindy look years younger.” She smiled.
Her eyes searched the room. “Russell?” she asked achingly.
“He hadn’t left the hospital since they brought you in, until about an hour ago when Baker made him leave. Tish, do you remember what happened? It looked like the pinto went into the road and a truck hit it.”
She nodded. “Didn’t…see it,” she smiled.
“Russell almost killed Frank Tyler,” Eileen said quietly. “Frank kept saying that it was his fault, that he’d hurt your feelings and caused you to run off…He said it one time too many, and Russell planted a fist right in his nose. The Tylers went home yesterday. Frank wanted to come see you, but Russell absolutely forbade it.”
“Wasn’t…Frank’s fault,” Tish whispered, grimacing at the pain as she shifted on the pillows. “Why did Russell hit him? He doesn’t care!”
“Doesn’t care!” Eileen’s jaw dropped. “Tish, Russell got to you first. God, he went berserk! I’ve never seen anyone like that. The driver of the truck wasn’t even scratched, but it took Frank and Gus to pull Russell off him. Then he got to you and the ambulance attendants had to work around him because he wouldn’t let go.” Tears misted her eyes at the memory. “All the time we waited while they were working on you in the emergency room, Russell just sat and stared into space and smoked. He never said a word. Not…not one word. And when they told us you were going to be all right, he…” her voice broke. She just shook her head.
It didn’t make sense, Tish thought, her mind cloudy with drugs and pain. Russell wouldn’t give up Lisa, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her….
“I can’t…can’t think. What’s wrong with me?” she asked Eileen.
“A lot of bruises and a couple of pretty deep cuts, and two broken ribs,” Eileen said with a sympathetic smile. “Not to mention a compound fracture of your left leg below the knee. But you’re alive, isn’t it wonderful?”
“It would be even more wonderful,” Tish whispered, “if it didn’t hurt so much. I’m so hungry…”
“I’ll have a tray sent up. I’ve got to make some phone calls, but I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay,” Tish said drowsily.
She drifted in and out of sleep after that. When she was awake she remembered Russell’s strange behavior. Maybe he felt a sense of guilt; probably that accounted for it. Although at times he did seem to have a genuine affection for her, what he really felt was something he kept strictly to himself.
“Sweetheart? Are you awake?” came a soft, familiar voice.
She forced her eyes open, and Mindy’s small face was there. There were lines of age around the big blue eyes, but she was still the beauty that had overcome Baker’s obstinate decision to never marry again when he lost Russell and Eileen’s mother. A cloud of silky gray and blond hair curled around her sweet face.
“Oh, Mindy!” she whimpered and painfully lifted her arms.
Mindy held her gently, careful not to press against her where the ribs were broken. “My sweet baby, what have you done?” she whispered piteously.
“Acted like a damned Currie, that’s what,” Baker Currie teased, and she looked past Mindy into Russell’s dark eyes, but in an older, harder face framed by silver hair.
“Hello, Baker,” she managed with a smile, and Mindy moved aside to let him bend down and kiss the young girl’s pale cheek.
“You gave us a start, you know,” Baker said lightly, but there was concern in his whole look. “Your doctor says you’re damned lucky to be alive.”
“I feel like I’ve been beaten.” She laughed drowsily.
“No doubt.” He ruffled her hair with a big, leathery hand. “Russell’s still asleep. I damned near had to throw a punch at him to get him out of here. And when that Tyler boy called and asked how you were, I had to cover Mindy’s ears! What the hell is going on?”
“Frank and his sister Belle stayed with us for a few days. You remember, I told you about it,” she said. “Frank and I had a…misunderstanding at the stables while we were waiting for Belle and Russell to untangle themselves and come out of the barn,” she added bitterly.
“You’re losing me, girl,” Baker sighed. “Russell’s got himself mixed up with a woman? He swore he’d never do that, because of Lisa….”
“People change, Baker,” she said tightly. “Gosh, I hurt,” she whispered. “Baker, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to stop fighting the drugs…it hurts so!”
“All right, girl, you rest. But when you’re better,” Baker said quietly, “I’m going to want some answers. From you or my son, or both of you.”
She drifted off to sleep on that unpleasant warning.
Drifting, floating, she moved toward a blackness without light or color. She felt a far-away rainbow sparkle through the darkness, and when she turned, Russell was standing there, tall and frightening. She tried to draw back, but his eyes were like black magnets drawing her closer and closer. And, suddenly, as she neared him, a light seemed to glow softly in his hard face, and he smiled and held out his arms to her….
“Russell!” she whispered, her head tossing on the pillow, her dark hair scattering over its crisp white pillowcase. “Russ…!”
A big, warm hand squeezed hers. It felt strong and comforting. “I’m here, baby. What is it?”
Her eyes opened, drawn by the deep huskiness of that loved voice. Through a sleepy fog, she saw him sitting on the edge of a chair next to her bed. She wet her dry lips and slowly, Russell’s drawn, hard face came into focus. New lines were cut into it by worry.
“It was…so dark,” she explained earnestly, “and I couldn’t get to you.”
“I’m here, now,” he said, his eyes haunted and almost black with emotion.
She sighed, grimacing as the movement intensified the pain in her ribs. “Hurts,” she whispered.
“I know.” Russell’s deep voice was thick with a different kind of pain. “What caused you to ride off like that? Seeing Nan Coleman making a play for your boyfriend, or seeing Belle with me in the barn?”
She felt the tension in the very air as he waited for her to answer the question.
“I…got something in my eye,” she whispered evasively, “and Pepper went into the road…Russell, what about Pepper?”
“The impact broke several bones,” he said gently. “I didn’t have any choice, Tish. We had to put her down.”
She burst into tears and he passed her a handkerchief. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “No! It was my fault…!”
“You’re alive,” he said huskily. “That’s all that matters.”
She gave him back the handkerchief, remembering how it had hurt to see Belle in his arms. But losing Pepper had hurt as much. Something nagged at the back of her mind, something Eileen had said about Frank…
“Why won’t you let Frank come to see me?” she asked suddenly.
His lips made a tight line. His eyes narrowed. “He told me, by God, even if you won’t. You told him the truth, and he couldn’t take it. He started backing away. If it’s any consolation, he’s on his knees.”
“From what, guilt or a broken nose?” she asked with a dry smile.
He looked vaguely uncomfortable and let his eyes move to the window. “He asked for it.”
She held his hard fingers tightly. “Don’t growl. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Are you still my best friend?” she asked with a gentle smile, not knowing that her whole heart was in the eyes she turned up to his.
He met that searching gaze with a look that might have melted stone. “Is that what you want?” he asked in a deep, soft whisper. “Is that how you want it to be between us?”
“There…there’s Lisa,” she mu
rmured weakly and turned her eyes away.
“God, yes, and you’ll never get over that, will you, little saint?” he flashed with narrowed eyes. He stood up. “I’ll be back later.”
“Oh, don’t,” she pleaded, “please don’t! Russ…!”
He drew a sharp, harsh breath. His face might have been carved from rock for the expression in it. “I’ll let Tyler come. That should put the color back in your cheeks.”
“Don’t be mad, don’t go away mad, please, Russ,” she whispered through the tears.
“Don’t try me too far, Lutecia,” he said in a voice that was barely audible. “You can’t have it both ways.”
One lone tear passed her eyelids. “Russ…”
“Oh, God, you tear me apart when you cry!” he whispered angrily, bending down to kiss away the tear, tracing it back to her eyes. His mouth was warm and slow and gentle on her closed eyelids. “I’m not mad, honey, now hush. Hush.”
Her pouting mouth trembled as she looked up at him accusingly. “You big bully,” she whispered. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“No,” he agreed narrowly, “you don’t. You just want to wipe out the past year and start over. All right, Tish, we might as well. God knows there’s no future for us in any other direction. What can I bring you besides Tyler?”
That hurt, but she wouldn’t let it show. “You’re really going to let him come?”
“If you want him. Do you?”
She nodded.
“All right.” Nothing showed in his face although she scanned it with all her might. “You should have watched a few seconds longer,” he said as he started out the door. “I pushed her away.”
“You mean she…” Tish couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“You know me well enough to answer that. I don’t like forward women worth a damn.” His dark eyes sent chills down her spine as they gave her body under the sheets a long, bold scrutiny. “Has it ever occurred to you,” he asked quietly, “that ‘friends’ don’t normally feel this kind of jealousy toward each other?”
With those pulse-spinning words and a half smile, he went out the door. She watched him walk away, tall and straight and outrageously attractive.
When Frank came to see her, she tried not to notice the disturbing reddish blue color of his nose or the Band-Aid across it.
“I…uh, ran into your…Russell, that is,” Frank said with a sheepish look. “Tish, I acted like a damned fool, and I’m sorry. Of course it wasn’t your money that attracted me. I wanted you to know that, and know how sorry I am.”
“It’s all right,” she said gently.
“Can I visit you from time to time, and can we still be friends?” he asked quietly. She saw that his eyes were kind but that there was no deep emotion in them, and she was vaguely glad.
“Of course we can,” she said with a smile.
He smiled back and bent down to touch his mouth to hers. Just then the door opened and Russell walked in.
“Uh, hello, Mr. Currie,” Frank said tightly. Apprehension was in every line of his thin body.
“Don’t let me disturb you,” Russell replied impassively. “Tish, Dr. Wallace says you can go home tomorrow. Baker and Mindy will fetch you.”
“Not you?” she asked involuntarily.
“I’m going to Jacksonville…to Lisa,” he said deliberately, and she could feel her face going white. “To bring her home,” he added with eyes that challenged her to say one single word.
Her jaw set, her teeth ground together, but she kept her tongue. “Have a good trip,” she said quietly, the coolness of her tone at war with the hurt anguish in her darkening eyes.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” he told her.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” she shot back. “I doubt if I’ll be here.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you that damned petty?”
“Petty?” she replied. “I think it’s pretty petty of you to expect the rest of us to live under the same roof with her!”
His eyes seemed to explode in brown flames. “Better her than you, baby,” he said with a cold smile and walked away.
She shook her controlled fury, tears burning her eyes, her heart breaking, breaking…
“Tish, I’m sorry,” Frank said gently. “Really sorry.”
“Oh, Frank, so am I,” she whispered through the tears.
“He’ll be back tonight, you know,” Baker said the next afternoon, when he figured she’d had the sanctuary of her room at home long enough. “And before he gets here, I want to know what’s going on between you and my son, Lutecia Peacock.”
Her cheeks were suddenly unusually pink, like the inside of a seashell. “Nothing’s going on. We just argue a little more than we used to,” she said.
“Don’t hand me that,” Baker returned with narrowed eyes. “Russell’s lost his temper so much since I’ve been home, I forget that he used to control it. He walks around with a sore head, and every time I ask him a question he turns red and starts cussing. Is it because of that Tyler boy? Has my son suddenly opened his eyes and noticed that you’ve grown into a very attractive young woman, Tish?”
“Russell never lets anyone know how he feels, you know that,” she said, toying with the wide edge of the pretty yellow-flowered sheet.
“Does he know that you’re in love with him?” he asked quietly.
She gasped. “I’m…I’m not! Baker, he’s always been like…like a brother to me!”
He shook his head. “That damned Peacock pride,” he grumbled. “You’d die before you’d admit it, wouldn’t you?”
“There’s nothing to admit.”
“The hell there isn’t. Eileen told me,” he said flatly.
Her eyes came up, and her cheeks burned. “Oh, how could she?” she wailed.
“Because it’s something I’ve prayed for all these years,” he said softly, “and now that you’ve been away from him long enough to let him see that you’ve grown up…”
“Oh, he knows,” she said shortly. “But if he feels anything, it’s only physical. And right now, he feels sorry for me because I got hurt and he thinks it’s because I saw him in the barn with Belle Tyler. Anyway,” she added sharply, “there’s Lisa, remember?”
“What does she have to do with anything between you and Russell?” he asked, both eyebrows raised.
“Everything! I won’t share him with a…with a…one of those women!” she finished impotently, gesturing wildly.
Understanding flooded Baker’s eyes, and, amazingly, he began to smile. “Who told you about her?” he asked absently.
She shrugged. “Eileen overheard Russell talking to you one night about how much he loved her and all. Eileen thought it was wildly romantic. Why won’t he marry her?”
“Sweetheart, I think I’ll wait to let you see for yourself. Maybe it’ll teach you a lesson about jumping to conclusions,” he said mysteriously.
“Baker, I wish I knew what you were talking about,” she told him.
“Wait until they get home.”
“You…you don’t mind her coming here?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I love her, too,” he said gently.
She turned her face toward the window, more puzzled than ever. “Why…why is he bringing her home?”
“Because her aunt’s getting married and there won’t be anyone to look after her, and that’s all the information you’re getting out of me.” He stood up and left her with a smile and a wink.
Tish was really and truly puzzled by Baker’s parting remark, and it dawned on her that something must be wrong with the woman. Blind, perhaps, or unable to walk. And she went through new tortures, thinking about how it would be to have to watch Russell walk with her and hold her, seeing him with love in his dark eyes. She wanted to cry.
The waiting was the worst part. She watched the portable color television without really seeing any of the programs. She tried listening to the radio, and that was worse. She couldn’t read because her mind
was wandering. Eileen came in to talk, but all she did was make vague replies to the teenager’s remarks.
“Tish, you aren’t even listening to me!” Eileen said finally.
“I know.” She sighed miserably.
“What’s wrong? Is it Lisa?” she asked quietly.
Tish nodded.
“I wish there were something I could say. You aren’t mad at me for telling Baker, are you? He’s awful when he wants to know something. In that, my father and my brother are a lot alike.”
She smiled uneasily. “I know that, too.”
There were voices in the hall suddenly, and Russell’s was one of them. Tish froze, stiffened; her eyes looked wild and trapped.
“It’s all right,” Eileen said comfortingly. “I’ll go out and stall them and give you a minute to get yourself together, okay?”
All she could do was nod, her heart threatening to burst as her dilated eyes locked on the door as if she expected a vampire to come through it.
The seconds ticked away like hours until the voices faded and the door opened. Russell came in and left the door ajar. His hands were in his pockets as he studied the slender form under the covers with a brief, careless scrutiny. His face had the look of a stone carving, and there was only contempt in his narrowed eyes.
She remembered the last words between them, the anger, the hurt. “Better her than you,” he’d said, and now the time had come, and there was an ache inside her that had nothing to do with broken ribs.
“Hello,” she said quietly, hesitantly. All the fight was gone out of her, and she only wanted to run. But there was no place to go, and the resignation was in her eyes.
“Hello,” he returned coolly. “Are you better?”
“A little.”
“I want you to meet her,” he said deliberately. He turned. “Lisa, come in here, honey.”
Tish steeled herself for some sophisticated, ultra-feminine siren on the order of Belle Tyler. She didn’t want to see the woman whose affection would soften Russell’s face, as it was softening now as he looked out the door. The door opened a little more, and Lisa walked in.
She was very small, a little china doll with long, dark hair that curled down to her waist, and a peachy complexion, and eyes that were big and frightened and very brown. And she couldn’t have been more than eight years old. A child! And she was the image of Russell….