Another Man's Treasure

by Renee Roszel

  She felt reassured by his reply. “Good.” On an impulse that came out of nowhere, she kissed his lean cheek. “Friends, then?”

  His brows dipped. He’d never had a woman “friend” before. Lovers, yes, plenty of them. But female friends? Never. He didn’t even know any men he could really call friends. That was the way he’d wanted it, though.

  He didn’t want intimacy in his life, didn’t even want friends, because that was the first step toward intimacy. Years of feeling guilty about his inability to save his parents had made him see very clearly the danger of intimate relationships. He was responsible for Carl and Nordie. His cowardice had deprived them of their parents. He’d sworn years ago that he’d never let anything happen to his siblings again, and he’d done his best since then. They were his brother and sister, and he loved them. But he didn’t need or want anyone else. He had enough responsibility—all the family he wanted.

  Raine had put her glasses back on and was looking up at him with trusting eyes. He lied to her, would go on lying to her, yet she had no inkling of it. He wondered if she’d still want his friendship if she knew. He ran a hand through his hair, looking away.

  “Cotter?” She touched his arm and he turned back. She looked so wistful, this shy, intellectual professor. He felt uneasy in the pit of his stomach. He could be pretty hard-boiled when it came to women, but something about her innocent request elicited his protective instincts. Or maybe the ludicrous plan of Nordie’s was getting to him.

  With all the untruths he’d told her, maybe he owed her something—even if it was just extreme politeness. Besides, it was only four weeks. What could it hurt to humor her? What was one more lie if it made her feel better? Not very proud of himself, he nodded. “All right, professor. Friends.”

  “Raine,” she said with a smile. Her buoyancy and the relief that glowed in her eyes made her features blossom. Sitting back, she relaxed visibly. He had the uncomfortable feeling that even that was a form of trust, of belief that she had found a friend, and he winced inwardly.

  “Cotter?” She sighed, squinting up at the sky. “Do you suppose Nordie will win the title of Miss Dumpy?” she mused aloud.

  He grunted, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “As far as I’m concerned, she already has.”

  Chapter Four

  “Well, I’m totally disenchanted!”

  Raine’s eyes shot up from the charts that she had been studying when Nordie flounced into Cotter’s den. When she saw that it was Raine sitting behind the desk instead of her brother, she stopped short. “Oh, Miss Webber. Pardon me. I thought—”

  Raine smiled up at the pixie-faced girl. “Cotter had some helpful information run off for me concerning the socioeconomic areas that Scavenger Hunt’s service covers. I was just going over it, choosing possible study areas.”

  “Oh?” Her polite show of interest amused Raine. “Say, where are my wayward brothers, anyway? The guys and I got in so late last night I didn’t see them. And I was busy getting the stables cleaned and set up, so I haven’t seen them all day.”

  Raine adjusted her glasses and tried to remember. “Well, I think Carl is in his room. And Cotter went in to Portland for the afternoon, I believe.”

  Nordie nodded. “I guess I’ll catch them at dinner. What are we going to be doing in those stables on all those long tables Lys has been setting up?”

  Raine searched for accurate words to describe the classification process. “Well, twice a week, big plastic bags from selected areas will be delivered. We’ll open them and painstakingly examine, classify, weigh and record everything we find.”

  “Everything?” Nordie cried theatrically.

  Raine nodded, smiling. “Every scrap. Our trash bears the very imprint of our life-styles.” She imitated Nordie’s dramatic gesture.

  Her student laughed. “It’s a pretty powerful imprint—if you go by smell!” She shook her head.

  “We’ll be methodical and serious about this, Nordie,” Raine admonished, but there was a smile in her voice.

  “Oh, I’ll be serious, Professor Webber. Tomorrow.” She grinned. “Meanwhile, we’re all going swimming. Sort of wash away the stable dust. You want to come?”

  Raine swallowed uneasily. “In the ocean?”

  “Uh-huh.” Nordie giggled. “I’m going to have Bill teach me to swim.”

  Raine was surprised. “Really? I would have thought you could swim quite well, living so near the ocean.”

  “I can. But there are a couple of strokes I can still learn—from Bill.” Her expression was coy.

  “Oh, I see.” Raine rested her chin on her hands, wondering at the girl’s maneuverings. Such playfulness would never occur to her. But who could judge her tactics? Raine certainly had no relationship to use as an example. “Well, good luck.” There was a slight sigh in her words.

  “Thanks. See you later, Professor Webber.”

  “Nordie?” Raine was curious.

  She brushed a curl out of her eyes as she turned back. “Hm?”

  “Did you win the Miss Dumpy contest?”

  “No, and that’s why I’m totally disenchanted!” She tossed her head with disdain. “Some bank president’s daughter won! She wore a disgusting necklace of fishheads and, well, actually, the whole outfit was so disgusting I can’t bring myself to talk about it.”

  Raine wrinkled her nose. “It must have been awful, if you are too fainthearted to describe it.”

  “It was! I mean, I had no idea that anyone would go to such extremes of bad taste. But—” she nodded her head with determination “—next year, I’ll be prepared!”

  Raine sat back. “The mind boggles.”

  “Don’t it just.” Turning away again, Nordie exited with a flourish. “’Bye for now.”

  With a wry grin, Raine returned to her chore of selecting two sample neighborhoods. She went back to the computer printout of Cotter’s recommended areas and made a notation on her pad. Time passed, and before she realized it, Hanna was knocking on the study door. “Miss Webber? Dinner is ready. Will you come, or shall I serve you in here?”

  Raine sat back and stretched. She’d just made her final choices, right on schedule. “I’ll come, Hanna. Thanks.” Gathering up the pages and her notes, she stuck them into her briefcase and headed toward her room. “Hanna,” she called after the cook, “I’d like to take care of a couple of things. Do I have a few minutes?”

  The gray-haired woman turned back and smiled sweetly. “Yes, ma’am. Miss Hunt is gathering up her boys. So I imagine it will take her a little time.”

  DINNER’S MAIN DISH, a magnificent lamb shoulder with spinach stuffing, had just been served when Hanna entered with a message. “Mr. Cotter, you have a guest in the living room.”

  “Correction—dining room,” a measured voice interjected as a tall woman in a sleek white silk dress appeared behind Hanna. Her hair was straight, black and thick, and skimmed her bare shoulders. Wispy bangs shadowed large, slanted eyes of sparkling onyx. Raine could only describe the beautiful stranger as svelte. A model, perhaps? She tried to guess at the glamorous woman’s career.

  Raine turned to Nordie in time to see her startled gaze. Nordie’s reaction made it plain that the woman’s appearance was a surprise to her. “Anona!” she breathed. “What are you doing here?”

  The lovely woman swept past Nordie, laughing. “Hi, Nordie. Start any world wars while I was away?” She shook her beautiful hair and smiled down at the girl. “Actually, I got through in New York earlier than I’d expected, and I just had to get back.” She scanned the room full of students. “Well, well. I seem to have crashed a party.” With hardly a pause, her eyes fastened on Cotter, and she added, even more softly, “Hello, darling—” she beamed at him “—miss me?”

  Cotter leaned back in his chair and shifted a narrow look across the table toward his sister before lifting an engaging smile toward Anona. “Of course.” He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, reaching out to take her hand as she floated toward him.
“Won’t you join us?”

  “I’d love to, Cot—”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful! Naturally, we’ve all missed you, beyond words!” Nordie bounced up from her chair and clasped her hands together in glee that was just short of hysterical. “Uh, everybody, this is Anona Witlong, uh, Dr. Witlong—our, uh, family psychiatrist.”

  Anona tilted her head around and peered at Nordie as Cotter burst into a hearty fit of coughing.

  Nordie bounced around the table, waving her napkin. “Oh, Anona, there’s something I’ve been dying to tell you but knew I’d have to do it in person. It just can’t wait another minute.” She grasped the taller woman’s arm and steered her toward the door.

  “But I came—” She was prevented from saying anything else, because Nordie had already escorted her from the dining room.

  Bill was first to speak. “You’re family’s got its own psychiatrist?”

  Cotter appeared to be battling a grin. “Don’t you think we need one?”

  Bill’s quizzical expression eased into a wide smile. “I don’t know about that, but Dr. Witlong doesn’t look like any therapist I’ve ever seen.”

  Cotter put a hand on the back of his chair and situated it so that he could take his seat again. “Have you seen many?”

  Bill laughed and shook his head. “No. But that’s obviously been my loss.”

  “Spend much more time with my sister, and I’m sure you’ll get your chance.” Nodding towards Hanna, who was visibly confused, Cotter directed quietly, “Please set a place for…the…for Anona, Hanna.”

  “Yes—yes, sir.” She backed into the door that led into the pantry in a stupor, and Raine wondered what was wrong with the woman. Ordinarily, she seemed imperturbable.

  “Why don’t we eat? I’m sure the ladies will be back shortly,” Cotter said as he took his seat, and Raine’s eyes were once again drawn to him. There was something inexplicable about his manner; he was so much more knowing than he let on. His choice of words indicated that he retained complete control—he never seemed to be flustered, only amused by his sister’s eccentricity. “Raine?” Cotter’s voice interrupted her train of thought, and she blinked up to meet his dark gaze.

  “Yes?” Her cheeks felt warm, and she hoped that she wasn’t blushing.

  “I just asked if those printouts I gave you are what you need.”

  “Oh.” She nodded a bit disjointedly. “Everything. As a matter of fact, I’m glad you brought that up.” She turned toward her students. “We’ll need to have a meeting right after dinner, and I’ll outline our plan of action for tomorrow.” Turning back to Cotter, she asked, “Where would we be out of your way?”

  “You won’t be in the way, professor, but,” he suggested casually, “I suppose the den would be most comfortable.”

  She nodded, but lost her chance to answer as Nordie and the doctor reentered the room. Nordie was pointing out each student and naming him in turn. “And finally, Dr. Witlong, this is our instructor, Professor Raine Webber.”

  “I’m happy to meet all of you.” Anona seemed somewhat ill at ease. “Nordie has explained everything—” she switched her gaze to Cotter “—about the project. It sounds…unique, to say the least. I wish you all luck.”

  “Thank you.” Raine could think of nothing else to say. But it was just as well, because Nordie had drawn Anona’s attention away with a whispered phrase.

  Hanna bustled in with a bundle of silverware and immediately busied herself beside Raine.

  “No!” All eyes were drawn to Nordie’s stricken face. She blanched and smiled sheepishly. “I—uh—Hanna, I’d rather we save that place for Carl, just in case he decides to join us. Why don’t you put Anona on the far end. Next to Cotter.” With a wordless nod, Hanna scooped everything up and scurried around the table.

  When she had gone and the women were seated, Nordie asked, “So, Professor Webber, how did you do on your own yesterday? All work and no play? I certainly hope you didn’t do anything I wouldn’t approve of.” Her grin was devilish.

  “I shudder to think what you wouldn’t approve of,” Cotter quipped.

  Raine’s smile was shy. “Actually, Nordie, Carl spent most of the day in his room asleep. I didn’t do much work, and Cotter and I took a walk on the beach.”

  “You did?” Two voices in unison asked the same question. At least it was a question on the part of Dr. Witlong. From Nordie, it sounded like an accusation.

  Raine looked from Nordie to Anona and then turned toward Cotter, who had just cleared his throat. He was in the process of cutting a bite of asparagus, his eyes on his plate.

  Raine nodded to no one in particular, confused at the degree of interest. She decided to address the doctor’s question. She was certainly aware of Cotter’s homosexuality. Hoping that her remark would be cryptic enough to pass over the heads of the students, Raine offered helpfully, “He was most entertaining company.”

  Nordie responded cattily, “He must not have been himself.”

  Anona patted her lips with her napkin. “Oh, I don’t know, Nordie. Cotter can be quite… entertaining.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” Cotter’s eyes swung lazily to meet her gaze. “Will there be a charge for that?”

  Her slanted eyes narrowed slightly with the broadening of her smile. “Count on it.”

  Cotter’s eyes sparkled as he took a sip of his iced tea, but he said nothing.

  “Doctor,” Bill offered, “Do you have any patients like Sybil?”

  Anona replied cautiously, “Sybil who?”

  “Sybil,” Cotter helped, “You know, doctor, one of the most famous cases of multiple personalities ever recorded.”

  “Yes.” Bill leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “She exhibited sixteen separate personalities. Do you have similar cases?”

  “Oh, that Sybil.” Anona’s smile dimmed noticeably, her eyes scanning the expectant faces around the table before she turned pointedly toward her host. “Cotter—”

  “No kiddin’!” Bill exclaimed. “You mean, it? Mr. Hunt has multiple personalities?”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t mean that Cotter has sixteen different personalities.”

  “There are eight million weirdos in the naked Cotter!” Nordie chimed in, mimicking a deep announcer’s voice.

  A guttural sound came from Cotter.

  “Kidding! Just kidding!” Nordie answered, shrugging broadly. “Anona? Why don’t you answer Bill’s question, and I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

  “Actually,” Anona offered quietly, “I don’t have any patients like that. Sybil’s case was a rare—and exaggerated—one. In fact, your question reminds me of something I need to communicate to your host.” She turned slightly in her chair and covered Cotter’s hand with hers. “Alone. Do you mind?”

  Raine wondered at the practiced poise of the other woman. Cotter, too, was relaxed and cordial, even seeming somewhat interested. Raine watched, transfixed, as his well-formed lips lifted in a smile. “Would you care for dessert first?”

  “Later.” Tilting her dark head, Anona granted him an unusually flirtatious smile for a doctor.

  He gave her a brief nod before turning to the rest of the company. “Will you please excuse us.”

  “Good-bye, Nordie, Professor Webber, everyone,” Anona intoned sweetly as she took Cotter’s arm.

  There were echoes of the statement around the table. Raine lowered her gaze to her plate, feeling strangely unhappy. If she didn’t know better, she could swear that she was jealous of Anona, drifting like a white mist out the door with Cotter. She shook her head, distressed with her response.

  She closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing—nothing at all. But she couldn’t get the vision of Cotter’s silver head bent obligingly toward Anona as they walked away. She crumpled her napkin nervously. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt her to have a session with the doctor, too!

  THE LAST OF THE STUDENTS drifted out of Raine’s meeting. She got up from Cotter’s leather chair and walked to the tall windows to l
ook out at the grassy slope that led down to the beach. A full moon illuminated the point of land where she’d run into Cotter the day before. Above the rocky area, on the cliff, a glimmer of light caught the undulations of the tree branches, set in motion by the ocean breeze.

  The den was dark now, and quiet. She hoped that her students would use their better judgment and go to sleep early. Five o’clock in the morning would seem impossible, otherwise. But they had to be at Cotter’s company headquarters by six-thirty in order to go with the trucks as they made their pickups. They would begin doing interviews and gather up and tag their first samples.

  She stifled a yawn. It must be close to ten-thirty—time for her to start thinking about getting to bed, too. Raine decided on a brief walk before retiring. Impulsively, she headed out of the room, striding past the entry hall, past the columns of the porch and down the steps. As she was about to turn into the garden path, a flash of white fluttered into view on the cliff. Raine stopped, squinting curiously. The ghostly figure grew larger, stepping from behind a tree, out toward the edge of the cliff. There was no mistaking the lovely white silk dress. It was Dr. Witlong. As Raine watched, another, taller figure appeared from behind a crop of trees. The light color of his shirt and slacks, and the silver glint of hair, identified the man.

  Raine considered the couple and wondered faintly why Dr. Witlong was spending so much time with Cotter. Surely her current interest in the Hunt family would be Carl. His depression was so evident that even she, untrained in the area of mental health, knew that he needed help. Perhaps the doctor was discussing Carl’s condition with Cotter before she saw him, to get a better understanding of Carl’s progress—or lack of it—during her absence.

  Suddenly Raine’s expression froze in a stare of disbelief. The doctor had turned away from the ocean, lifted her arms to Cotter’s neck and raised her face to his. And now they were locked in an intimate embrace, kissing.

  Kissing? Raine’s wide eyes were riveted on the entwined couple on the cliff. Anona’s flowing white dress seemed to be caressing and enfolding Cotter as they embraced. What was going on? Raine swallowed, realizing that her throat had gone dry as she watched the couple, openmouthed.