by Ann Cristy
———
On Saturday Rafe surprised her by saying that he would supervise the cooking of the special white hots, the pork frankfurters that were made only in Rochester, New York, and were a delight to everyone who tried them at their parties.
Cady had often heard the story about the German butchers who had emigrated to the upstate city and settled in sections that retained their unusual nicknames even after the city had grown up around them. She watched as her husband laid out the barbecuing equipment he would need.
“The first area is quite old,” Rafe explained, a rueful smile on his lips as if acknowledging that he had told her all of this at some earlier time. “It was called the Butter Hole. The other section is called simply Dutch-town. The strong heritage of these people kept them making sausage in the old country way. Pork hots are the happy result of this.”
“I love them myself,” Cady confessed. “I let other people eat the beef barbecue, the ribs, and the chicken. I love the hots.” She giggled. “Some of the people coming today won’t be comfortable with any of the food we’re serving. Should I have had side dishes of Beluga caviar?”
The shout of laughter from Rafe made her heart sing. He was getting well! She smothered the inner voice that reminded her that he might seek a divorce as soon as he was fully recovered. She wouldn’t think of that now.
Cady felt a well of depression pull at her. Now was the time to explain about Rob Ardmore. Now was the time to assure Rafe that Rob was a friend, sometimes even a lifeline to her when she was trying to battle the frustrations of the Senate and the unyielding wall that Emmett and his cohorts had erected against her.
Then Trock was there handing her the barbecue aprons. The moment passed and she still hadn’t said anything. She looked at Rafe as she gave one of the aprons to him, seeing the shuttered look come over his face again. What was he thinking? Could he read her mind? Did he know she was thinking of Rob Ardmore? Did he misunderstand her friendship with the Iowan representative? Perhaps Rafe was wondering what she knew about his private life before they met. Would he guess that she knew about Durra and the parties there? Was that why he had looked so flushed when he had talked to her moments before?
Lord, if she didn’t stop this infernal soul searching, she would go crazy.
She turned to Trock and handed him the other apron, watching with intense concentration while he tied it around his waist, then walked back to bring the supplies to the two outdoor bars.
Rafe had still not put his on when he took a step that put him directly in front of her. “You seem to go into these blue funks often, Cady. It isn’t too flattering for a man when he finds that his wife is preoccupied much of the time she’s in his company.” Rafe smiled, but the bones of his face seemed to be pushing through the flesh as he watched her.
“Cady? Cady, what are you dreaming about?” Rafe put one hand under her chin as they stood beside the twin ovens of the outdoor cooker with the huge grills on either side. “Were you thinking of your father?”
Cady smiled, neither confirming nor denying it, eyeing the first arrivals with a measure of relief.
“I know you miss the professor and want to go home.” Rafe leaned down, just brushing his lips on hers. “When we talked to him on the phone on Wednesday, I told him we would be coming home as soon as the Senate adjourns.”
Cady leaned back, her eyes widening. “We’re not staying for those socials your father has arranged?” She felt her breath catch in her throat at the warm look in his eyes, then exhaled in an audible sigh of relief.
“No.” He grinned. “I feel we can do more good back in our state, campaigning. My advisers tell me that we should hit the campaign trail early because the Harris poll shows that my opponent, this man Salters, is gaining on me.” He stroked her jaw lightly. “Somehow I don’t feel too worried. You did a very good job for me, Mrs. Densmore, and the feedback from the state echoes that. I don’t know if I ever told you how much—”
Before he could finish, a sultry voice sent a shiver down Cady’s spine. Before she could turn she knew that Lee Terris, the woman Emmett had wanted Rafe to marry, had arrived. Instead Lee had married the junior senator from Ohio just weeks after Cady and Rafe’s wedding. Now divorced, she had resumed her maiden name—and predatory ways.
“Well, darling, are you going to ignore your guests?” Lee was ebony-haired and tall. In black slacks and shirt, she looked like a very shapely piece of black velvet from head to toe. Lee was a confident woman who had all the gloss that finishing school and money could provide. She moved toward Rafe and took hold of his arm, her long scarlet nails digging into his flesh as she reached up and kissed him.
Cady could feel her own fingernails digging into her palms. But instead of walking away, as she had done in the past when Lee had accosted Rafe similarly at other functions, she stood her ground, keeping her eyes on the couple and fighting to keep a bland look on her face.
When Rafe lifted his head, he reached.out for Cady’s hand. “I believe you know my wife, Lee. Cady, you remember Lee Terris?”
Cady nodded neutrally. “Yes, we’ve met. How are you, Lee?” When the divorcee made no response, continuing to grasp Rafe’s arm proprietarily, Cady added demurely, “Would you mind moving back from Rafe just a bit? Heavy perfume makes him sneeze.”
“Really?” Lee Terris gave Rafe a melting look. “He never used to mind my scent.”
“Since his illness, his tastes have become more discriminating.” Cady gave the other woman a wide smile, taking note of the angry intake of air. She turned to look up at Rafe. “Shall we greet the others? Trock will make the fires.” She couldn’t tell if there was a hint of amusement on Rafe’s face as he inclined his head at her and excused himself from Lee Terris.
“I do believe your mouse just roared, Rafe darling,” Lee cooed at their backs. “Perhaps she’s planning on making her interim position in your office permanent.”
Rafe urged her forward, but Cady balked, loosening herself very gently from his grip. “Ms. Terris, my husband is the senator from New York and that’s how it is going to stay. We will campaign hard and he will win again. If there are any other questions you would like to ask me, please feel free.” Cady didn’t look at Rafe as she took his arm again, letting him lead her to a cluster of people that were moving from the house to the lawn.
The barbecue went well. It pleased Cady that so many of Rafe’s friends in government came. She was surprised when many of these men and women came up to her and congratulated her on some work or another, or just came up to chat. It gave her a warm glow to see how easily they accepted her now. Before Rafe’s accident, she had been too shy even to speak to many of them, but now, after her own small stint as Rafe’s stand-in, she had a newborn confidence in her ability to tackle anything.
“I don’t suppose we’ll have any more of those luncheons,” Rob Ardmore whispered behind her. “I really enjoyed them.” He smiled at her as she turned to give him her hand.
“There won’t be any need for me to be clued in on congressional strategies by the able congressman from Iowa.” Cady laughed at him, glad that he had come. She considered Rob a good friend. More than once he had answered a question, dealt with a problem, and otherwise given her support. “It’s good to see you, Rob. I feel as though I have one friend at this stampede.”
He didn’t release her hand at once. “I am your friend, Cady, and your admirer. No one could fault your devotion and care to a very ill man.” He stared down at her from his medium height, his dark brown hair almost the same color as his eyes. “But Rafe is well now, and you have your own life to think of. You told me once that Rafe would have divorced you if he hadn’t been in that plane crash.” His hand tightened on hers. “No, don’t look away. Cady, I never spoke to you while Rafe was convalescing. I didn’t think that you could handle another crisis. But now he’s well, and I want you to think of me as more than a friend.”
“I should never have discussed Rafe with you,” she reproached hers
elf.
“Who else were you going to talk to? Emmett? Bruno Trabold? Hell, Cady, they would crucify you if they could. Your father was too far away. You needed me. I liked that, Cady. I need you now.”
“Rob, I’m married. Rafe is still recuperating.” Cady swallowed. “Besides, he hasn’t mentioned anything about a divorce.”
“Don’t wait for him to mention it. Ask him for one, Cady,” Rob urged, stepping closer to her.
She looked away from him, her head whirling. Her wandering eyes looked right into the blue steel of her husband’s. “I have to go. I have guests, Rob.” She pulled her hand free and walked at an angle toward the portable bar that had been set on a shady corner of the patio. She looked at the professional face of the hired barman and ordered a glass of mineral water and lime.
“Well, well, it looks as though the lovely ice maiden is branching out in all directions,” Bruno Trabold offered, his voice as smooth as the smile he gave her. “First you take on the Senate so well that the word goes out that you could become a senator yourself. Now you seem to want to try a different man.” He saluted her with his glass and leaned closer to her, his unbuttoned sport shirt opening to reveal the thick mat of hair on his muscular chest. “Let me offer myself as an alternative, Cady,” he said, leering at her. “I have always found you most appealing, even if the Old Man doesn’t.”
“Thank you.” Cady let her teeth show in the smile she gave him. She leaned forward and with one finger pulled the front of Bruno’s shirt more open. She looked up to see the puzzled but not displeased look on his face, and she let her smile widen as she tipped the full glass of mineral water, ice, and lime into the shirt. “Have a good day, Bruno,” she whispered over the loud yelp he gave. She turned at once and walked toward the other bar, set further out on the lawn under a dogwood tree. Again she ordered a drink. This time she sipped it with great relish.
“I saw that.” Rafe placed his hand at her waist, smiling at a couple who waved to them. “What was it all about?”
Cady wasn’t going to say anything, but the words rose out of her of their own volition. “That was Bruno offering himself to me as a worthy substitute. He seems to think I’m on the prowl.”
“And are you?” Rafe rasped, the fingers at her waist clenching. “I watched Rob Ardmore with you. He’s in love with you.” He spat the words like hot rivets. “I once told you that I would let you go if you ever wanted out.”
“So you did.” Cady cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should see to our guests and save this talk for another time.”
“Are you in love with him, Cady?” he snarled, his hand locking her to his side, the lean face, still pale from his long confinement, taking on a granite look.
Cady glanced up at him, all thought of responding in anger evaporating as she saw the fatigue bracketing his mouth and pinching at his eyes. “You’re tired. It’s been too much for you today.” She slipped one arm around his waist. “Why don’t you lie down for a little while and rest?”
“Will you come with me?” Rafe let his hand slide around her, then upward under her breast, his chin resting on her hair.
Cady didn’t know what she was going to say until the words spilled from her mouth. “Yes, if you want me to, I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, I want you to, all right.” Rafe gave a mirthless laugh.
“Damned impolite of you, Cady, to stand here and let your guests shift for themselves,” Emmett barked, distaste twisting his mouth as he looked at their entwined arms. “And Bruno says you were damned clumsy and spilled a drink down the front of his shirt. Now he’s had to go and change. Damned inefficient, I’d say. It’s about time you learned how important a political machine is, Cady, and got your priorities straight.” Her father-in-law almost bit his cigar in half when Rafe only pulled her closer.
“You tell Bruno for me that if I catch him near my wife again, I’m going to loosen his bridgework a tooth at a time,” Rafe said, his voice deceptively mild.
“What the hell are you talking about, boy? Bruno don’t mess with fancy skirts.” Emmett gave a harsh laugh.
“Bad choice of words, Dad,” Rafe snarled, his body a menacing curve as he looked at his father.
“Eh?” Emmett looked open-mouthed at his eldest son. “I didn’t mean anything personal. Don’t be so damned touchy, boy.”
“Good, then apologize to my wife for being tactless,” Rafe offered, his voice having the hoarse sound it did when his temper was rising.
“Yeah? Well, all right, I apologize for the poor choice of words.” Emmett broke his cigar, did a hundred-eighty-degree turn, and stalked away.
“You didn’t have to upset your father because of me, Rafe.” Cady felt as if multicolor balloons had gone off in her stomach. Rafe had never defended her against his father quite so decisively before. Although he’d been supportive of her verbally, there had always been a certain awe of his father that had undermined his words.
“Yes, I did.” Rafe brushed his lips across her hair. “I never realized how he attacks you until my stay in the hospital, when I saw him at you whenever you met him. No wonder you always tried to be late so that you wouldn’t run into him.” He sighed as Trock signaled to him. “No time for a rest now. The fires are ready. Come along, lady, and watch me cook.”
“I’ll let you do a little if you promise that you’ll sit on the high stool while you do it.” Cady felt her jaw push forward when Rafe grinned at her. “I mean it, Rafe. I won’t let you tire yourself. The doctor says you’re doing just fine, but he warned against overtaxing yourself.”
“So my little angel has turned into a tyrant, is that it?” Rafe took one of the aluminum canes she held out to him and eschewed the other. “All right, boss lady, I’ll use the stool while I’m doing the barbecuing, provided you stay at my side. Deal?”
“Deal.” Cady laughed, feeling as light as a hot-air balloon when Rafe put his other arm around her and seemed to want her arm around him.
The cooking went well. The minute Trock thought Rafe had done enough, he insinuated himself into position as cook and eased Rafe back from the grills.
“That man is as high-handed as you are,” Rafe grumbled, calling Graf to him. Cady followed Rafe’s gaze. The dog had started to cross the lawn not far from where Bruno Trabold, now in a striped shirt of Rafe’s, was talking to Emmett. “How did you get out here, boy?” Rafe rubbed the silken, pointed ears, glancing at Cady with a smile. “I remember when you brought him back with you after one of your stays with your father. He doesn’t resemble that gaunt, frightened puppy anymore.”
“No.” Cady smiled down at the brown velvet dog, whose head cocked as though he could understand what his beloved people were saying. “If I hadn’t been walking on the beach that day, he would have died out there. He couldn’t get a grip on the ice to pull himself out of that frigid water,” she remembered.
“What?” Rafe growled, his black brows snapping together, his blue eyes marble hard. “You never told me you went out on the ice after him. You just said you found him on the beach.”
“Ah… well, no, I guess I didn’t tell you I had to go out on the ice, but… ah, I was careful. I got the ladder from the boat house and pushed it in front of me. Graf was able to clutch the rungs with his paws and pull himself up. He was smart enough to stay on the ladder, and then I backed it toward me, easing my way on my stomach until I was on good solid ice.”
Rafe grasped both her shoulders, numbing them. “Damn you, Cady, you could have died out there! You know what that lake is like when the ice backs up.” He shut his eyes as though what he was seeing in his mind pained him. “When the ice melts, then refreezes, and the wind whips the open water onto the ice cap… God, Cady, it looks like the Alps on water. You know that.” His eyes had darkened to indigo and seemed almost to be shooting sparks at her. “If you’d fallen in, no one would have seen you. You could have died. Don’t ever be so stupid again.”
The dog whined a question, making both of them look at him as
he nosed between them.
“Don’t worry, big boy, I wouldn’t hurt your lady, but I’d like to paddle her derriere,” Rafe rasped, gazing once more at Cady.
Cady felt daring. “You aren’t strong enough yet, Senator, so be careful what you say. You might end up being paddled by me,” she challenged, liking the martial light that flickered in his deep blue eyes.
“Threatening me, are you, wife?” Rafe crooned, his hand crawling up the inside of her right arm, his index finger touching her sensitive underarm.
Cady had no breath left. She felt her spine melt, her legs give way. It was an effort to keep her voice from squeaking. “Exactly. I intend to make you even stronger than you were before the accident, and if you try to spoil my plans… watch out.” She lifted one small fist and shook it in his face.
“Let’s go into the house and wrestle. The best two falls out of three wins,” he drawled, his lips running from her temple to her jawline.
“Really, Cady you might stop trying to seduce your husband in front of so many people,” Lee Terris shrilled, making Emmett and Bruno laugh as the group moved toward them.
“Well, then hurry up and leave and I’ll seduce him in private,” Cady simpered, wanting to take off her high-heeled sandal and hit the other woman with it.
Rafe roared at the three astonished faces looking at him. “Be careful, Lee, she’s liable to throw you out of here.” Rafe urged his wife forward. “Everyone seems to have some food. Let’s get some for ourselves.” Without another word to his father or the others, Rafe pointed to the table and smiled at Cady.
She was amazed at the way Rafe stayed at her side after eating, how often he included her in his conversation with other congressmen regarding his work, and how frequently he asked her opinion, his attention on her when she answered. She was flabbergasted at how many times he used the expression, “My wife thinks.”