“Why didn’t you ever talk about your past before? Why was it kept such a big secret?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I wanted to keep a piece of myself private. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my background; after all, many famous people have less than exemplary pasts. I wasn’t trying to hide anything, I just wanted to have something all to myself. I was lucky that I had an agent who agreed with me.”
Travis wondered if Kali realized just how lucky she truly had been. When she’d walked away from L.A., she’d also walked away from several lucrative contracts and pending lawsuits. Her agent had sweet-talked the angry employers about breakdowns and mental anguish, and the suits were eventually dropped. Travis had heard about it through the grapevine that traveled endlessly in their business. So why hadn’t he known all the problems behind Kali’s and Blayne’s marriage, except the few rumors regarding Blayne’s infidelities? Kali must have worked very hard to keep the truth about her marriage under wraps. No wonder she had been so worn out emotionally when she’d left L.A. She had nothing more to give anyone. Until now. In his arrogance he felt he had arrived in Virginia at just the right time to pull Kali out of her self-imposed exile and bring her back to life.
“And you used ‘Human Frailties’ to release the rest of the poison of your marriage from your system,” he remarked, tightening his hold around her shoulders so she couldn’t move away as he anticipated she would when she realized exactly what he was saying.
But that didn’t stop her body from stiffening in his embrace. Travis turned, wrapping her in both arms and keeping her close to him.
“Why do you persist in talking about my marriage?” Her voice was strained. “You’ve already heard the worst parts of it. Isn’t that more than enough for you? It’s a dead issue as far as I’m concerned, so why can’t we leave it that way?”
“It isn’t a dead issue as long as it keeps you hiding away from the rest of the world,” he argued gently, brushing the tangled hair away from her face.
“I am not hiding away. I’m resting.”
“For almost three years? That’s a hell of a rest in my book.”
Kali tried to pull away from Travis, but he wasn’t about to allow her to escape. He grasped her chin between his thumbs and pulled her head up for his kiss. There was no restraint this time as his mouth moved over hers relentlessly, his lips and teeth nibbling at every corner, and his tongue possessing every inch of her mouth. He gave her no chance to back away because he wanted her to give in to him. At first she fought him. She knew he wanted her surrender, but in her present frame of mind she wasn’t about to give in to him. He kept demanding more from her no matter how much she fought him. In the end she had no choice but to wind her arms around his neck and arch her body against his.
Long moments later Travis lifted his head. “Not here,” he insisted hoarsely. He grabbed her hand and practically dragged her back to the cabin. In a matter of moments Kali was efficiently stripped of her clothing and in bed with Travis. The time for talk was over —for the present.
Chapter 9
While Travis slept that night, Kali arose and spent several hours in the living room thinking over a few of the things Travis had said. Perhaps he was right; perhaps it was time to leave the safety of the cabin and venture out in the real world again. She was certainly a great deal stronger emotionally now. The trouble was, he just didn’t realize how difficult returning to L.A. would be for her. She curled up on the couch with a quilt wrapped around her and a glass of brandy in her hand, but no ready answers came to mind. She decided she would just have to remain tough and make the changes in her life in her own time. If Travis just wasn’t so damn sexy, she might have a better chance of standing her ground!
Finally, feeling woozy and sleepy from the brandy she had drunk, she headed back to bed. She slipped under the covers and curled up next to Travis, unaware that he had awakened when she had first slipped out of bed, and he knew exactly how long she had been gone and even had a pretty good idea what she had been doing. He pretended to be asleep and merely shifted his warm body closer to her, and she snuggled against him.
When they had gotten up, Travis didn’t mention his knowledge of Kali’s nocturnal flight and couldn’t help but notice she didn’t say anything, either. She acted more lighthearted than usual, fixing waffles and bacon for breakfast, then suggesting they just leave the dishes to soak while they were gone.
“My jeep will take the road better than your motorcycle will,” she told him as they walked outside an hour later. Kali carried a large-sized canvas bag which she threw into the back of the Jeep. “And no matter how much you hate how I drive, we’ll be better off if I do, since I know the roads better.”
“As long as we can stop in town so I can make out my will and notify my next of kin,” Travis muttered, earning a glare from Kali.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Jenny gets your James Dean poster collection,” she assured him in a sweet coo as she switched on the ignition and put the jeep in gear.
Travis was about to add another remark when Kali took off down the hill like a bat out of hell. He would have prayed if he had enough breath to do so.
“How far are we going?” he shouted into her ear.
Kali smiled. “You’ll see.”
Ten minutes later Kali turned off the main road onto a very rocky dirt road that had more curves than the letter S, and steadily climbed upward into the mountains.
“What happens if a car comes from the opposite direction?” Travis asked her.
“We either hug one edge or the other,” was her breezy reply.
Travis looked down the side of the mountain, then over to the mountain hugging the other side of the road. Neither looked very safe. He figured the road was a little over six feet wide, and while two foreign sport cars could make it easily, if they were foolish enough to try, two larger cars wouldn’t have a chance.
Who was this Alf that Kali would drive up a road that was nothing more than a rough trail to see him? It would have to be someone very special for her to go to so much trouble.
The winding drive up the mountain took more than a half hour, although they had gone barely ten miles. By then Travis’s insides had been bounced around so much, he was positive his liver was where his heart should be, and his heart somewhere around his kidneys. He noticed Kali’s sideways glances and the tiny smile curving her lips. The witch was testing him! She’d probably figured he would cry uncle a long time ago, but she had to learn he was tougher than that.
The log cabin Kali pulled up in front of was straight out of a movie, down to the three hunting dogs lying lazily on the porch. The dogs lifted their heads at the sound of a strange engine and immediately dropped when they saw that the visitors were friendly.
“Great guard dogs,” Travis commented sardonically, raising his arms over his head and stretching the kinks out of his body.
“Alf? Reba?” Kali called out, reaching into the back of the Jeep and pulling out the large canvas bag.
A thin woman pushed open the screen door and peered out.
“Calliope, is that you?” A voice with a musical drawl greeted their ears.
“The one and only,” she replied gaily, running up the porch to hug the woman tightly.
Reba looked over Kali’s shoulder at Travis, who remained by the Jeep. “That ain’t Harold.” The distaste in her voice indicated her low opinion of Kali’s ex-husband.
“No, this is Travis Yates,” Kali told her, gesturing to Travis. “He’s a friend of mine from California.”
“Oh, land sakes, ain’t he a big one,” Reba said with a faint laugh, wiping her hands on her calico apron before holding one out. “I’m mighty pleased to meet you, Mr. Yates.”
“Travis, please.” He flashed her the slow smile that did such delicious things to Kali’s equilibrium and equally flustered Reba. “Mr. Yates is my dad.” He looked at the woman in her faded housedress, gray hair pinned back in a neat bun, and warm smile, and liked her i
mmediately.
“You are welcome.” Reba stepped back and ushered them inside. “Alfred is out by the barn, I’ll call him.” She turned to Kali. “He’ll be so pleased to see you, honey. It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to come up to see us.” She left them, practically running toward the rear of the house. “Alfred! You come on in here, we have company.”
Travis looked around the small living room that doubled as a parlor. The furniture was from another era, the kind antique collectors would sell their souls for. The horsehide sofa looked as uncomfortable as he knew they were from his experience with the one that resided at his grandmother’s house, but the dark wood was polished to a high shine, as were the various tables, with their knickknacks kept neatly on top.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw a tasseled lamp shade,” he muttered to Kali, nodding his head toward the floor lamp in one corner.
She grinned. “It’s something, isn’t it? Reba is in here just about every day making sure there isn’t a speck of dust on the furniture. I’m surprised she hasn’t rubbed the finish off.” She led the way to the back of the house, to a kitchen warmed by a large wood stove. “Would you like some coffee?” At his nod she grabbed two mugs hanging from hooks over the stove and used a pot holder to pick up the metal coffeepot sitting on top of the stove. She looked up when the back door swung open. A tall man, as lanky as Reba, walked inside and hurried over to enfold Kali in a bear hug.
“And here I thought Reba was funnin’ me. Let me look at you.” He stepped back. “You look good, honey —yes, you do.” He also gave Travis an inquiring look.
‘Travis Yates.” He held out his hand.
“Alfred Warren.” He wiped his hand on the back of his worn overalls before taking Travis’s hand. “I don’t recall Calliope ever talkin’ ‘bout you.”
Kali wrinkled her nose. “Alf tends to forget I’m over twenty-one.” She looked up at the older man. “Travis is a photographer in Los Angeles, Alf.”
Alf looked over Travis and his blue-and-green flannel plaid shirt and worn jeans with dark gray eyes not dimmed by age. “Hell, son, you don’t look like any photographer. I thought they all wore sissy-lookin’ clothes and talked funny.”
Travis chuckled. “My pa would take a stick to me if I ever showed up wearing anything looking sissy.”
“Where ya from?”
“Originally, Texarkana,” he explained.
Alf nodded. “A down-home boy.” He glanced down at Kali. “He sure seems a sight better than Harold, Calliope, girl. You’re finally getting smart.”
She reddened and opened her mouth to explain that Travis wasn’t prospective husband material, but Travis stepped in smoothly to rescue her—or did he?
“I guess we all have to make our mistakes before we learn what we really need in life. Thank God Kali’s finally coming around.”
Kali almost choked. She was already beginning to regret bringing Travis with her, and that regret festered over the next few hours.
It didn’t take Travis long to charm the older couple. Reba confided in Kali that she thought he was a wonderful young man and just what Kali needed. Alf was a bit more direct, asking Travis if he was going to do right by the girl.
Kali would have hidden somewhere if she could have. Always in the past, Alf and Reba had treated her like their own daughter, telling her she was so much better off without Blayne in her life but never suggesting that she find another man. Of course, she had never brought a man up here to meet them, either, and they would naturally assume he was special to her. She had to admit he was special to her; the trouble was, she wasn’t sure how special she wanted him to be.
“Yep, when Laurie, our youngest, went off to college, we decided to move back up here to my parents’ place,” Alf told Travis over a dinner of smoked ham, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and vegetables. “She’s working as a secretary in Saltville now. Cal, our oldest son, is in the Army and stationed in Germany for two years. Our other two daughters are married with kids of their own, ad our other four sons are scattered among just as many states.”
Travis didn’t need his fingers to realize Alf was saying they had eight children. No wonder they decided to return to the peace and quiet of the mountains!
” ‘Course, it ain’t as quiet as I’d like,” Alf went on. “Seems like one of the kids is always up here, and Calliope comes up once or twice a month when the weather is good.” He grinned. “She brings us up a piece of civilization.”
Travis already knew the bag Kali had brought into the house held recent magazines, books, and anything else she thought the older couple might like.
After dinner Travis was taken on a tour of the small plot of land by a proud Alf.
“Calliope’s a good girl,” Alf told him as they wandered through the spacious barn with its two cows, a horse, several goats, and a pen adjacent to the barn for the pigs. “She went to school with our daughter, Susan. Considerin’ how her pa used to treat her, I’m happy she didn’t turn out to be a bad girl. Oh, she made her mistake with Harold, but I could see why. That boy had more charm than the serpent in Eden. But she never did anything wrong.”
“Then why was her father so rough on her?” Travis asked, glad to be able to talk to someone else about Kali’s past.
Alf shook his head, his eyes dim with sorrow. “Ranee was a hard man to know. He had his ideas of right and wrong, and he stuck by them no matter who it hurt. You shoulda seen Calliope’s ma; she was the prettiest little thing you ever saw. Most people couldn’t understand why she married someone as hard-hearted as Ranee. Word was because she was pregnant with his child. The other story was that he loved her so much, he was willing to marry her even though the child wasn’t his. No one dared to find out which story was true, or even if there was another one, since Ranee tended to use his fists for little reason. Leastways, Calliope was born six months after they got married, and Ranee was bound and determined to make sure that child stayed a good girl. In the end all he did was drive her away. He died a harsh and bitter man, never bothering to realize just what a jewel he had in Calliope. When she began getting famous in those magazines, he told everyone he had no daughter, because he wouldn’t acknowledge a whore of Babylon as his seed.” He sighed.
The more Travis heard about Ranee Howard, the more he disliked the man and was glad he was dead. No wonder J. C. said Kali hadn’t known love from the two men in her life who should have shown it to her.
“When you have a gift, you cherish it, not destroy it,” he murmured, remembering the times he had seen the stark pain on Kali’s face when she recalled her past losses.
Alf’s grizzled face lit up. “Son, that’s it exactly,” he agreed. “Too bad Ranee or Harold didn’t see it that way. I’ll tell you one thing, that boy wouldn’t be able to drive through town without ending up with some buckshot in his ass for what he did to Kali by taking her little girl away from her. A daughter needs to be with her ma, not gallivanting all over the world with a no-good pa.”
“I guess he figures she’s his daughter too.”
Alf made a rude noise. “It’s who loves and raises a child who can claim being a parent. It didn’t sound like Harold knew how to do either. And Kali is left hurtin’, thanks to that bastard. Now, I don’t want you to think I’m talkin’ out of school, but Reba and me could tell right off that you think a lot of Calliope, and I don’t think you’re the kind of man to hurt her, either. ‘Course, if you were, you’d find out there were a lot of people around here who would go after your hide.”
Travis smiled. “The more I’m around this countryside, the more I can understand why Kali loves it— and the people—so much. It appears she needed someone to care about her after what had happened, and she had that here.”
“And now it’s time for her to go back,” the older man announced.
“She doesn’t think so.”
“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Alf rummaged around in one of the stalls until he found what he was looking for. He held
up a large jug with a triumphant grin. “Reba would skin me alive if she knew I was offering some of this to you.” He offered the jug to Travis.
He took a hearty swig and promptly choked. “Damn, no wonder they call it firewater,” Travis gasped, touching his throat to make sure it didn’t have a hole burned through it.
Alf drank the liquor without any visible side effects. “Now”—he rubbed his hands with apparent relish—“I’d sure enjoy hearin’ about those models you work with.”
Kali sat in the kitchen with Reba, drinking coffee and watching the older woman repair a delicate lace tablecloth. She couldn’t help wondering what Travis and Alf were talking about and had a sinking feeling it might have something to do with her.
“Your Travis is a nice-looking man,” Reba commented in an all too innocent voice.
“He isn’t my Travis,” Kali said, correcting her.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure he thinks he is.” The older woman held the tablecloth up to the light to inspect her work. There were no visible signs of repair. “I’ve always prided myself as a good judge of character, and that man is exactly what you need. He’s not at all like Harold.”
Kali thought about the time she’d spent with Travis and silently agreed with that point. “Then why didn’t you ever warn me about Harold?” She could finally think about her ex-husband without pain shooting through her body for what he had done.
“Girl, you wouldn’t have listened to any of us. Harold was a charmer, that was obvious. And that was probably why he thought he could get into television and make a fortune. Trouble was, he forgot charm couldn’t get him everything.”
“It sure got him me,” Kali said wryly.
“That was ‘cause you were too young to know better, and you were dead set to go against your pa.”
“Too bad I didn’t grow up sooner.”
Reba leaned across the table and covered the younger woman’s hand with her gnarled one. “It was all meant to be,” she said, trying to console her. “You have a daughter who the Lord will restore to you. Don’t you worry about that. Just as you were meant to meet Travis. He’s a lot of man, honey. I suggest you do everything possible to keep him.”
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