Diamond Spur

by Diana Palmer

  Cherry heard Kate sobbing and walked into her room hesitantly. “Kate?”

  She lifted her tearstained face. “Hi,” she sniffed. “Sorry. I think it has something to do with being pregnant. I cry all the time lately.”

  “Maybe it’s the water?” Cherry suggested with a warm smile. “Can I help?”

  “You can help Gene look after Jason while I’m gone. I’m flying up to New York tomorrow for the showing.”

  “Wow,” Cherry sighed. “Well, have fun. I guess I’ll pose for Gene again. He’s determined to do portraits now. He’s even got a commission to do one for a friend, and they’re paying him three hundred dollars. We haven’t told Jason yet,” she confessed. “We’re hoping that it will lead to more commissions. He’s really very good, you know.”

  “I do, indeed,” Kate replied. “Keep him at it. He’ll make it, if he sticks to his guns. Jason can be very hard to fight.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” Cherry murmured. She winked. “Sleep tight. How’s baby?”

  “Doing fine, as near as I know. The nausea has stopped. I hardly even feel pregnant,” she smiled.

  “Good! ’Night.”

  “Good night.”

  Kate touched her stomach. Odd how she felt lately. But the cramping and bleeding were infrequent, so everything must be all right. And after the showings, she’d have some time to enjoy being pregnant. Maybe even to enjoy being married to Jason. She’d involve him with the baby, she decided. She’d get him to help pick out names for boys and girls, and shop for baby things. Yes. That might help heal the breach between them. But it was going to be so difficult to forget and forgive his coldness tonight. She hated to leave with a drawn sword between them. Perhaps in the morning, they could patch things up before she left.

  She phoned her mother. Despite the fact that they had lunch together almost every day at the plant and talked on the phone a good deal, their relationship was different now. It was more like friend to friend than mother to daughter. Not that Kate loved her mother any less than she ever had. But now she was a woman, and she felt a new kind of maturity, of understanding.

  “How are you doing?” Mary asked when she answered the phone.

  “Better than the last time we spoke,” Kate mused, tongue in cheek, and trying desperately to hide the hurt Jason had inflicted. “I haven’t been to another single party. I’m leaving in the morning for New York, for the first showing of the collection, and then I go to Atlanta and Dallas.”

  “That’s a lot of going, honey,” Mary said.

  “I know. But Dr. Harris didn’t tell me I couldn’t go,” she told her mother truthfully. The obstetrician might have had something to say about it, but her appointment with him was still in the future, because there hadn’t been an opening. “And I’ll be real careful.”

  “See that you are, honey,” her mother said gently. “You could lose that baby more easily than you realize. I lost two before I had you.”

  That was a comforting thing to say, Kate wanted to reply. But she forced herself not to say it. Mary never meant to hurt, she just opened her mouth and words came out.

  “I’ll be careful, Mama,” she said, her tone a little stiffer. “I’d better get some sleep.”

  “Kate, I’m sorry,” Mary moaned. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just don’t want anything to happen….”

  “If I’m not meant to have this baby, all the protective instincts in the world won’t do any good,” Kate said reasonably. “I can’t stay in bed for nine months, not with the best will in the world. I feel fine. Well, pretty fine. I’m tired a lot. But the nausea seems to have passed and there’s only a little spotting. I’ll take it easy and I’ll get plenty of rest. After all,” she added, “sitting down at a showing is a lot easier than putting a collection together.”

  “Well, I won’t argue with that. Call me when you get back, honey, and have a safe trip.”

  “I will. Love you.”

  “I love you, too, baby.”

  Kate hung up and put on her gown. She was nervous and a little scared, and she’d have given anything to go downstairs and beg Jason to go with her. But that would be admitting defeat. She couldn’t let him dictate her whole life for her. If she was going to have any independence in the future, it had to start now. And she had to have money. That, she’d have to earn, so she couldn’t afford to start treating herself like an invalid.

  She touched her abdomen gently. She didn’t feel pregnant. She felt strangely empty, and that worried her. She didn’t know what to expect if anything was wrong, how she’d feel physically, and she didn’t want to call the doctor at home just to ask. Probably she was just overworked and overtired. She’d get some rest on the trip.

  If only the collection went well. Tomorrow, the burden would be on her. She’d see her designs on real models while buyers gave them a critical and unbiased eye. This would be the acid test. She’d make a reputation or not make it on her talent.

  If the designs didn’t sell, she didn’t know what she was going to do. Jason was going to be hard enough to live with either way. He didn’t want her to have a career that didn’t involve him. It seemed to bother him to not be able to control things and people. Looking back at his childhood, she even understood his reasoning. He’d had no control at all over his father. His mother had deserted him. He’d had the responsibility for not only the ranch after his father’s death, but for bringing up his young brother as well. All his life, he’d been kicked around and made to do things. Even now, he had the entire burden of the ranch to bear, because Gene didn’t really want any part of it. Jason had never been allowed to enjoy himself. He didn’t know how. Until Kate had entered his life, he’d hardly ever smiled at all.

  She sighed, thinking about how fortunate she’d been in comparison. She’d had two parents who loved her dearly, and though she’d been disciplined, she’d never been abused. If only she could show Jason how beautiful it could be, belonging to a loving family circle. But he didn’t seem to want that now. He didn’t even seem to want her anymore.

  With a long sigh, Kate put out the light and climbed into bed. She laid awake for an hour or more before she finally dropped off to sleep. And still Jason hadn’t come upstairs.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Clayborn’s New York showing wasn’t the extravaganza Kate had somehow expected it to be. She’d thought of women dripping diamonds and furs, a regal atmosphere with crystal chandeliers and plenty of space, and a band and photographers shooting off flashbulbs like crazy.

  Actually, it was rather a cozy setting, in a showroom that Clayborn’s parent company maintained on Seventh Avenue. There were a number of buyers around, sensibly dressed in business suits or dresses, and only a handful of photographers in attendance. The music was taped, and Kate had trouble understanding both the woman who was introducing the fashions and the models who wore them.

  Roberta was on hand, looking just faintly bored with the whole business, and Kate got a glimpse of Clarisse in one of the seats reserved for Clayborn people.

  Kate chewed nervously on a fingernail when the first of her embroidered skirts was shown. The model swung gracefully down the runway, and Kate wished that she was back home in Texas sitting in a patch of sunshine surrounded by wildflowers. She was scared to death that someone was going to laugh at her unsophisticated designs.

  “Don’t worry so,” Roberta whispered, touching her bare arm gently. “They’re going to love your ensembles.”

  But Kate wasn’t convinced. She shifted, uncomfortable in the gray knit suit she was wearing for the occasion. It was store-bought, and the skirt was too tight in the waist. She’d unbuttoned it, and the zip kept trying to slide down. God forbid that it should fall off in the middle of the showing!

  The woman at the microphone was describing another of Kate’s creations, a khaki shirt with epaulets worn with a denim skirt with khaki appliqués. But there was no wild applause, and nobody stood up and suggested that Kate be crowned queen of the fashion designers. O
n the other hand, no one booed her. That alone was encouraging.

  Kate was sweating when the last of the models wearing her collection left the runway and went backstage.

  “Well?” Kate groaned as the announcer told the audience that the program was concluded and thanked them for attending.

  “We won’t know yet,” Roberta said gently. “These things take time. We can tell how successful your collection is going to be by the orders we…well, hello, Carla. Nice of you to stop by.”

  A tall, elegant woman nodded and fixed Kate with her jet black eyes. “You are Kathryn of Texas, yes?” she asked in a voice that was just faintly accented.

  Kate smiled. “I have to confess. I am.”

  “I like very much the comfort of your basic silhouette, and the functional direction of the fabrics you use. It is very different, this collection, but that will give it distinction. I will include at least ten of the pieces in my spring lines. I thought it might encourage you to say that before I place the order,” she added with a smile. “You have flair, mademoiselle. I think you will succeed. ’voir, Roberta.”

  “Thank you,” Kate said, smiling broadly. “You flatter me.”

  “It is not flattery,” the woman named Carla replied smoothly. “Flattery does not sell garments, and that must be our collective concern, n’est-cepas?” She nodded to Roberta and moved away.

  “It is definitely not flattery, coming from Carla Roche,” Roberta said with a breathless laugh. “My God, such praise. Didn’t you recognize her?”

  Kate shook her head and smiled apologetically. “I guess I should, but I don’t.”

  “She’s the head buyer for Savant.”

  “Savant?” Kate asked. “The Savant? The very expensive Savant stores that are mentioned in the same breath with Saks and Neiman-Marcus?”

  Roberta grinned wickedly. “Now what other Savant is there in this country?”

  “I think I’m going to faint,” Kate informed her.

  “Not yet, you don’t,” Roberta laughed. “You’ve got to meet the press, lady, and here’s where I come in. You just follow my lead.”

  Being interviewed was as new an experience as being a designer had been, and Kate found herself enjoying it. It wasn’t anything like the ordeal she’d expected, although there were some questions that she had a hard time answering with a simple yes or no. But eventually it was over and Roberta rescued her.

  “Kate, let’s go and talk to Clarisse,” she said, and once she had her out of earshot of the fashion reporters, she grinned from ear to ear. “I eavesdropped. You did great!”

  Kate relaxed only then, and smiled as Clarisse approached them. She hugged the taller woman. “It’s good to see you again. I heard about your good fortune.”

  “I was lucky,” Clarisse laughed. “And Roberta’s brother is a very nice man. Are you both coming to Curt’s showing tomorrow at the Waldorf?”

  “I’m flying to Atlanta,” Kate said, shocking Roberta. She smiled apologetically. “I’m really sorry, but I’m pregnant and I’m not doing too well. I’m afraid to push it too hard, so I’m going to go to Atlanta tomorrow and then home to see my doctor.”

  “Pregnant?” Roberta asked.

  “You know, as in ‘with child,’ or ‘in a family way’—that thing that happens when you sleep with a man…?” Clarisse prompted.

  Roberta glared at her. “I know what happens when you sleep with a man. You take precautions.”

  “Guess who didn’t?” Clarisse said easily, folding her arms over the bodice of her simple, very chic black dress.

  “So that’s why you got married so suddenly,” Roberta mused.

  “Jason wants the baby, too,” Kate sighed. “I’m hopeful that things will work out for all of us.”

  “They will,” Clarisse said optimistically.

  “Well, if you ever turn that gorgeous hunk of yours out to pasture,” Roberta said with a sly grin, “I’m going to be first in line with a lasso.”

  “Shame on you, talking like that to a pregnant lady,” Clarisse scolded only half jokingly.

  Roberta blushed. “Yes, shame on me. Well, let’s mingle, Kate. If you’re only here for the day and the evening, let’s milk it for all we’re worth.”

  Kate did that, but finally, the fatigue began to tell on her. She began to feel nauseated and went off into a corner, where she stayed until Roberta rescued her.

  “Are you okay?” Roberta asked. Kate was almost white in the face.

  “I will be, after a good night’s sleep.” She sagged a little as she spoke, and she was uncomfortable. There was some cramping now, probably from all the standing. “I’m so tired, Roberta.”

  Roberta patted her arm. “Well, honey, from your standpoint, I guess it has been a long day. I’ll go back to your hotel with you, and we can have an early dinner. Then you can get some rest. I’ll put you on the plane in the morning. You’d probably get lost halfway to La Guardia.”

  Kate grinned. “With my track record, I’d probably find the airport but get on a plane to some foreign country. Roberta, thanks for all you’ve done,” she added sincerely.

  “You had the talent, kid,” Roberta joked. “I just helped point you in the right direction. I have high hopes for your collection. It was a pity your Mr. Rogers had a sick wife and couldn’t come. He’d have been proud of you. Come on. I’ll get you out of here.”

  Kate slept from the time her head hit the pillow, and she slept most of the way to Atlanta the next day on the plane. She was spotting heavily now, and the cramps were more frequent than they had been before. She had a bad feeling, and she wanted to go home, where Jason would be there if she needed him. But once she got to Atlanta, she was going to find a doctor and have herself checked over. She should have done it before, and she cursed her own inaction. She’d put it off out of fear that she was going to miscarry. Now, it might be too late.

  She wondered if Jason had missed her. He was busy with cattle, and their argument was still fresh. She wondered miserably if he’d meant what he said about not caring where she went or what she did. She’d wanted to call him the night before, but she was too hurt.

  An elegant woman with blue eyes and jet black hair met her at Hartsfield International Airport in Atlanta, and Kate groaned as they walked for miles after leaving the jerky confines of the people mover, a subway train-type conveyance that was fast and efficient. But there was still a long way to walk, past rushing travelers and security guards, children playing in the long walkways, and only a handful of small shops, which seemed odd in such a staggeringly big airport.

  By the time they got out the door and were headed toward the parking lot, Kate was sick.

  “Is it much farther?” she asked the woman, Angela Marshal, as they started under the parking deck toward the widespread economy parking area.

  “Quite a bit, I’m afraid,” the older woman said in her gentle drawl. “Honey, you look bad. If you’ll wait, I’ll go get the car and pick you up here. Let me have that bag, too.”

  Kate was on the long covered walkway that led to several different sections of the parking lot. She smiled gratefully. “I’m so tired…I’m pregnant, you see.”

  “Don’t say another word, I know just how you feel.” Angela grinned. “I got two girls, three and five years old and I spent a total of eighteen months throwing up. You just hang on right there, I’ll be back in a jiffy!”

  Kate held on to one of the round supports, feeling gruesome. She didn’t know how much farther she could go. The pain was getting worse and she felt a wetness that was sudden and frightening, and nausea that almost brought her to her knees.

  As Angela pulled up, tears were rolling down Kate’s cheeks.

  “Honey, what is it?” Angela asked quickly.

  “Oh, God…I think I’m losing the baby,” Kate whispered, her face white and pinched and full of horror.

  “Grady Memorial is just down the road a few miles,” Angela said as she jumped out of the compact Chrysler she drove and helped Kat
e into the passenger seat. “Sit tight. I’ll get you there as soon as I can.”

  She got back in under the wheel and pulled the car into the lane to pay the parking ticket, then onto the crowded expressway with its maze of new construction.

  The ride was a nightmare of congested noontime traffic. Kate was barely conscious when Angela pulled up at the emergency room entrance of Grady hospital and ran in to get help.

  Kate was lifted gently onto a stretcher and taken inside, groaning in pain that had become unbearable.

  She was examined presently by a young physician, who confirmed her fear of miscarriage, and told her that an emergency dilation and curettage would have to be done. The nurse came and took her away to be prepped, had her sign a form, then took blood to type and cross match and shaved her for the operation. By the time she was given the necessary injection, she was in such misery that she didn’t care what they did if they could just make it stop hurting.

  She came to in the recovery room, trying to grab at the skirt of a passing nurse. It was so odd, the feeling that she needed to touch another human being, perhaps to reassure herself that she was still alive.

  “So you’re back with us,” the nurse said with a gentle smile. “Good girl.”

  Kate tried to answer her, but she was too groggy.

  They took her to a bed in a semiprivate room, but the other bed was unoccupied. She was still hooked up to an IV and she felt sore. Even worse, she felt empty. Horribly empty. And her first thought was that her baby was dead, and that Jason would blame her for losing it. She’d gone to New York against his wishes, and despite Dr. Harris’s long talk about it, she felt guilty, too, because she’d been too afraid to tell him the truth about her cramping. She’d been terrified to hear him confirm what she’d known somehow—that she wasn’t going to be able to carry the baby to term.

  All day long, she worried about what to do, about whether or not to have them call Jason. Angela came in to see her briefly and promised to return that evening and tell her all about the showing, but Kate was unenthusiastic.