by Margaret Way
Callista closed her eyes briefly, holding a hand to her throat. “I’d deny I said it. You might remember, my nephew is very loyal to me. I’ve devoted my life to him.”
“Forgive me, but it seems you’ve devoted your life to your own private hell. I don’t appreciate being told I’m a member of a tainted family, Callista.”
“I didn’t say that.” Callista backed off.
“But you did. Please don’t underestimate me. I’m no longer a child you can taunt and push over the edge. I’m a woman. I’ve taken my life in hand. I’m only here for a visit. I don’t want unpleasantness. We can be civil to each other, surely?”
“Why not?” Callista gave a peculiar laugh. “I’ve found I can do anything if I put my mind to it.”
Nicole didn’t doubt it. Unbidden came the sickening image of her mother’s battered body sprawled over a desert boulder.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CALLISTA EXCUSED herself from sharing coffee, saying it was time for her afternoon ride.
“I’m sure you have lots to catch up on!” She bestowed a gleaming smile on Nicole. She had small white pearly teeth she was obviously careful to look after.
Round one to Callista. Nicole had long since learned that Callista chose her moments to release her venom.
“Enjoy yourself,” Nicole called cheerily, not to be outdone.
All would have gone according to plan had the housekeeper, Annie Prentice, not picked that particular moment to enter the garden room carrying a laden tray.
“Here, let me take that from you,” Nicole offered, rising. Annie was of the same vintage as Dot.
The housekeeper, whose eyes had been on the tray, looked up to respond.
When she saw Nicole, she let out a disbelieving wail, and the tray fell from her hands.
Such clumsiness might have happened on a regular basis, given Callista’s furious response. “Watch out!” she cried, moving as deftly as a prima ballerina out of harm’s way. The coffeepot went over, splashing hot liquid all over the tray and onto the floor. Big spatters reached Nicole’s legs, mercifully protected by her blue cotton slacks, but for seconds she keenly felt the heat. The two coffee cups and saucers flew through the air to crash on the unyielding terra-cotta floor tiles.
“Annie, I’d have sworn you could handle just about anything!” Drake shook his dark head in mock amazement. “But I’ll need a double brandy after that.”
“I’m so sorry.” The housekeeper was the picture of despair, shoulders shaking, tears in her eyes as if she’d just pulled out of a triathlon.
“Settle down, Annie. No real harm done,” Drake soothed. “What about you, Nicole? That coffee was hot. Did it burn you?”
Her legs were smarting a little. “I’m fine. I’ll pop upstairs and change in a minute.” She looked at the housekeeper with a sympathetic smile. “Did I startle you, Annie?” Hadn’t she shocked the Barretts when they’d first caught sight of her?
Annie, a sturdy woman, put a hand to the comfort of her large bosom. “For a minute there, I thought you was a ghost. What was I going to do?”
“Turn and run?” Drake asked thoughtfully.
“Then I realized, it’s you, Miss Nicole, all grown up.”
“How are you, Annie?” Nicole’s smile widened.
Whatever Annie’s answer was to be, Callista wasn’t in the mood to hear it. “Don’t just stand there gawping, Annie. Clean this mess up.”
Whatever happened to niceness? Nicole wondered, resenting Callista’s attitude on Annie’s behalf.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m on my way.”
Annie seemed to have all the attributes of that dying breed the faithful retainer.
“Take your time, Annie,” Drake said, coming to the besieged housekeeper’s defense. “You’re out of breath.”
“Shock, sir, and my rackety old ticker. Miss Nicole is the spitting image of her mother, that beautiful creature. I’m just horrified I dropped the tray. I wasn’t prepared.”
Again Callista displayed her anger and impatience. “Okay, so you were surprised, Annie. Nicole is the image of her mother. Would you please clean this up and make fresh coffee? Leave that, Nicole.” She eyed Nicole, who was busy picking up the broken pieces of fine china, with disapproval. “Annie will attend to that. It needs a dustpan and brush.”
“I’ve got most of it, anyway,” Nicole said mildly, thinking she wouldn’t speak to a feral camel the way Callista was speaking to the housekeeper. “I’ll change out of these slacks. Won’t be long.”
“Let me have them and I’ll make sure there’s no stain,” Annie called after her.
Nicole turned. “I’d appreciate that, Annie. I’m not exactly sure what you use to treat coffee stains.”
“I do,” Annie responded with relief. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
“We’re all agreed you’re sorry, Annie,” Callista said in the same sharp voice. “Go get the mop,” she ordered. “You’ve broken the set. Those coffee cups are very expensive.”
It was a wonder she didn’t say she was going to deduct the cost from Annie’s wages, Nicole thought, moving off.
Pausing on the stairs—she overheard Callista say crossly it was high time they traded Annie in.
Oh, well, why bother about loyalty? Nicole stood stock-still waiting for Drake’s reply. If he agreed with his absolutely awful aunt, she’d be back on Eden before midafternoon.
Mercifully his answer came with calm authority. “Annie stays, Callista. I’m not about to lower the boom on her. She’s always been a good worker and very loyal. You shouldn’t have been so harsh with her.”
“If you ask me, her shock at seeing Nicole was far less than mine,” Callista answered. “I wonder you can ignore this thing, Drake.”
“What thing?” Drake sounded exasperated.
“What a mistake it is having Nicole here.”
Nicole knew she should go on her way, but she didn’t want to miss anything. She gripped the banister with one hand. Obviously she hadn’t changed much since she was a child trying to catch the grown-ups’ hushed conversations.
“We’ve already discussed this, Cally,” Drake said in a voice that should have given his aunt pause. “Don’t fall apart on me. It’s my decision. I don’t like you to be upset, but I don’t answer to anybody.”
“But there’s a potential for trouble here, dear. More and more trouble.” Callista was back to her dramatic mode. “Can you blame me for worrying about you?”
“What hurt could Nicole inflict?” Drake’s tone was soft, but there was little doubt about the steel beneath it.
A long silence, then Callista’s tense reply. “We’ll see.”
Heed the warning, Drake, Nicole thought, shaking her head. Not a chance she could ever win over Callista.
IN HER BEDROOM she changed her coffee-stained slacks for a turquoise skirt printed with hibiscus. The garment was light and cool and went well with the white tank top she already wore.
I’ve only myself to blame for coming here. Siggy had warned her. So had Joel. Within a mere ten minutes of their meeting, Callista had revealed her hostility. Callista was a woman frozen in time. She had even made it clear to Drake she didn’t want Nicole on Kooltar. Not that Callista had much say. Drake would do exactly as he pleased. It shamed Nicole slightly to realize she’d only agreed to come because the thought of spending time alone with Drake was irresistible. Despite everything that had happened between their families, she found herself more drawn to him than to any other man she’d ever met. And she’d met quite a few through Carol, all of them interesting, attractive, eligible. Yet in so many ways, now as in the past, he was her ideal.
When she returned to the garden room, made sensuous by the profusion of plants, the furnishings and the collection of huge Javanese glazed pots, fresh coffee had already been set out on a low marble-topped table.
“No scalds I hope?” Drake asked, rising to his feet, his eyes moving over her pretty skirt.
“A little pinkness that will fade. I�
�m ready for that coffee. Shall I pour?”
“Be my guest.” Amusement played around his handsome mouth.
“Callista was a little harsh with Annie,” she ventured, passing him a cup.
He sighed. “Callista always overreacts. It’s the way she lives her life. I guess most people would call her emotional. She seems to be hurting all the time, but I don’t have the answers.”
“It’s a lonely life, Drake. Frontier life. She doesn’t have the support of a marriage.”
“She’s had her admirers,” he said, shrugging. “They never seemed to come up to her standards. As for me, I’m all for frontier life. I don’t covet life in the big cities. Even New York, which I’ve visited a few times, as you know. Like everyone I found it very stimulating, but the desert is my home. No better place on earth. Callista, too, is tied to it. She’s still a very attractive woman. It’s not impossible she could find the right man.”
He’d have to be a very tolerant individual, Nicole thought but didn’t say. “Perhaps she’s too anchored in the past. This house, however grand, must reinforce her sense of separateness. She mentioned to me that she’d face changes when you marry. She’s lived dependent on you. Dependent on Kooltar.”
He took another long sip of his coffee, then set the elegant coffee cup, a lucky survivor of the broken set, back in its saucer. “Callista is financially independent. She is, in fact, a rich woman.”
“I know that. But money, for once, is not the problem. I mean she’s emotionally dependent. Are you happy with your role?”
For a moment he was silent, his striking face somber. “My aunt is an especially vulnerable woman. I would expect you to understand that.”
“Believe me, I do. But she doesn’t want to get better.” She recognized they were getting into the familiar series of thrusts and parries.
“I’ve tried strategies, Nicole. I’ve failed. Callista is harboring all manner of resentments and guilty feelings. Most of the time she’s sweet and gentle. Then she has short lapses into suppressed rage. As I expect you do.”
“Okay, I admit it, but I’m not as rude as she is. But you won’t hear any criticism of Callista, will you?”
He shook his head slightly. “She’s family.”
“You had no hesitation attacking Joel. He’s my family.”
“I didn’t exactly attack him. I just thought a few things needed to be brought to your attention.”
She sighed in exasperation. “But, isn’t that interference?” A pause. “I couldn’t help overhearing Callista say I can only bring trouble.”
His gaze was very direct. “So you’re back to your old trick of listening on the stairs, are you?”
“It wasn’t often I heard anything good.”
He laughed. “It never stopped you. You know darn well what Callista means. She’s afraid I’ll fall in love with you.”
Nicole tried not to let her reaction to that show. “Who knows your intentions, outside yourself?” she said breezily. “Aren’t you and Karen Stirling almost ready to announce your engagement?”
His eyes came up to hers. “I’ve already told you that’s not true. Callista continues to cherish hopes. She and Karen get on well.”
“An absolute necessity if they’re going to cohabitate,” she said. “Or maybe after the marriage the position might alter. It wouldn’t be the first or the last time. It would be fairly easy for a charming young woman like Karen to butter up Callista.”
“Something you’re not likely to do,” he retorted.
“Not when she feels such enmity toward me.”
“You’re overstating it.”
“Not at all! You’re too smart not to see it.”
“I can handle it, Nic. Can you?”
She tossed back her auburn hair, suddenly feeling caged. She ignored the question and said, “Look. I’m desperate for answers. Do you believe what happened was murder-suicide or just plain murder? You said yourself the coroner did a poor job. No one believed it was an accident. Dr. Rosendahl didn’t. He had theories that, as they were just theories, he wasn’t prepared to discuss. He’s dead, did you know?” She swallowed, trying to rid herself of the throb in her voice.
He looked genuinely shocked. “Good God, when did this happen? He can’t have been all that old.”
“Apparently there was a piece in the papers, but it was very hard to find. Or the breeze blew that particular page away.”
“Try to stay with the facts, Nic. Sigrid told you?”
“Callista told me,” she said flatly. “She seemed quite pleased to. One might be forgiven for thinking she would have told you, as well, but she must have thought you wouldn’t be interested. Anyway, he and I lost touch over the years, but I thought the world of Jacob Rosendahl.”
“As well you might. He was a fine man. Highly respected. What did he die of? Heart?”
“A hit-and-run accident some six or more months ago. I intend to follow it up.”
“It’s the sort of thing one would want to follow up. I’m really sorry, Nicole.”
“There could be a killer out there,” she said slowly. “It’s almost liberating to say it. I want that person caught and punished.”
“If there is such a person. The official finding was an accident.”
“You fear my investigation?” She looked at him.
“I fear for you is more like it.”
She shrugged. “I can look after myself. I can’t afford to be soft. It was suggested they fought. Let’s consider it. We fight.”
“You look for it more than I do. My uncle suffered a breakdown. He was never the same after your mother married Heath Cavanagh.”
“Are you suggesting he decided to end both their lives?”
His face contorted with pain. “In regard to your mother and no one else, my uncle was slightly mad.”
“When you all had Heath Cavanagh as the villain?”
“Nic, I was fourteen years old. Just a boy. I’m no expert on human relationships all these years later. But I’ve had plenty of time to think.”
She set down her cup carefully. “We all withdrew, instead of being open.”
“Being open calls for great wisdom and understanding. Terrible grief disrupts those abilities. The inner rage and the hopelessness take precedence. The shock was so great no one was acting rationally. Violent death has a horrible way of tainting the innocent families. We all carried the burden.”
“Don’t you want to know, Drake?” She knew she was almost pleading. “This is an unresolved conflict. The theory that my mother grasped the wheel and caused the accident is at odds with what Heath told me. He said she was a pussycat compared to me.”
In response, Drake made a deep mocking sound in his throat. “I distinctly remember a little tiger.”
“I have a temper,” she acknowledged. “God knows I’ve got the red hair. Who else do we have as a suspect? Some psychopath passing through? It has happened. Men on the run make for the Outback. Somewhere they can easily hide. But then, why and how could a man like that do such a thing?”
Drake’s wide shoulders slumped a little. “My uncle could have been disabled in some way. Both of them taken unawares.”
“Or maybe they knew the person. Judged him harmless.”
“This person who couldn’t control murderous impulses?” Drake asked in a taut, incredulous voice.
“People do things they believed they never could. We read it in the papers. See it on television. All it takes is a single moment of unpremeditated, ungovernable rage. Which brings us to Heath. The culprit had to be Heath. He had the motive. A crime of passion.”
“Maybe he’ll tell us on his deathbed,” Drake said in a splintered voice.
“Which can’t be far off.” She moved restlessly, rising to her feet. “Show me the house, Drake. I can remember playing here. Your parents didn’t blame me for my mother’s actions.” Or had Drake’s mother and father believed it possible she could have been David’s child? That would have accounted for their
softening attitude toward her. They never did forgive Corrinne.
“How could they, Nicole? You were the innocent victim.”
She nodded. “Yes, but the family secrets! So many that are not to be spoken about, just lived with,” she lamented.
“Well, I, for one, want to compensate for lost time. Only a week ago I never imagined you’d be here with me. Now the unimaginable.” For a long moment they traded looks, intense and searching, both aware of their growing intimacy as they let down their guard. They had bonded so well as children, and now they were brushed by very real adult desire.
It seemed to Drake her fragrance was all around him, so intoxicating it made him feel reckless. Her masses of curls were a rosy cloud around her face, tiny tendrils damp in the heat around her forehead. How easy it was for a woman like her to bewitch a man. He was filled with a mad impulse to wrap skeins of her hair around his hands. He stared at her lovely mouth, the upper lip so finely cut, the lower as full and ripe as a peach. Passion was a whirlpool that caught a man before it sucked him under. It had happened to David. Yet staring into her beautiful questioning eyes that seemed to mirror his own recklessness, he realized he wanted her with a fierceness that startled and even appalled him. Despite all his talk about making up for lost time, his uncle’s tragic past was never distant. David had gone down into the vortex, never to fully return.
“Don’t look at me that way,” she said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.
“How is that?”
“A little bit of everything. Attraction. Rejection.”
“Rejection, no. I’m just giving us a chance to get our bearings.”
“Is that so?” She raised an eyebrow. “How perfectly you, Drake. You always like to be in control.”
“Agreed.” There was a glint of wry humor in his eyes. “Let’s see the house, then.”