by Carol Rose
He looked at the distance between the tree and the front of the Jeep. "I don't think the jeans are strong enough to pull us out, but they might hold to pull us forward enough for the tires to catch solid ground when I give it gas."
Nora found herself envisioning the solution he mapped out. "Oh, this is ridiculous," she exclaimed. "We're out here in public and you want us to strip to our underwear?"
Bret glanced at the road. "There hasn't been anyone along since we got here nearly an hour ago."
"Still, it's crazy," she protested weakly, tantalized by the possibility of salvaging her chance with Mrs. Turner. Showing up muddy and bedraggled would be better than not showing up at all.
Bret leaned forward, a teasing grin on his face. "Come on, Nora. It's not like we haven't gotten naked outdoors before."
Nora blushed at the memory conjured up by his words.
"You know you'll miss the appointment with Mrs. Turner if we don't do something fast," he said. "And unless you've got a better plan, we're stuck with mine."
She looked at him, indecision gripping her.
"You'll only have yourself to blame if you don't take this risk," he said, his voice soft. "Is the land worth it to you?"
"Yes," she said slowly. "It's worth it."
"Okay," Bret said, jumping out of the Jeep and beginning to loosen his belt. "Gimme those jeans, woman."
She climbed out of the Jeep, keeping the vehicle between her and the road as she shucked out of her pants. It felt strange to undress outdoors. The last time, she'd been wrapped in a passionate haze. Now she felt awkward and silly, wearing only a thin T-shirt, panties and hiking boots.
Her only consolation was that Bret looked just as funny, only slightly less exposed with his shirt tails covering his white briefs. Nora had to smile at the sight of his muscular legs disappearing into his muddy cowboy boots.
"Bring those here," he directed, knotting his jeans to the short chain attached to the winch. "We’ll tie yours to mine and tie the jacket to the tree."
"You're sure this is going to work?"
"No." His strong hands tugged at the stiff denim. “But it beats walking three miles to the nearest phone."
She watched him patch together the makeshift rope, pulling each knot taut and then looping one end around the sapling.
"Okay, I'm going to crank it forward and lock the winch. Then I'll start her up while you get behind and push."
"I have to push?"
"Which one of us is more likely to be able to drive this sucker out?" he challenged.
"I'll push."
"Good." Bret turned the crank on the winch slowly, pulling the denim rope taut. As he tightened it, she heard the popping of stitches but, amazingly, the makeshift rope held. Another half turn and Nora felt the Jeep ease forward a fraction.
"It's moving."
"Yeah," Bret acknowledged, his voice strained as he wrestled with the crank. "We need it a little further."
Two more turns pulled the vehicle incrementally forward before the rope emitted an ominous ripping noise.
"It's tearing!"
He stopped, getting into the Jeep. "Pray it's far enough."
He started the engine. Nora braced her arms against the back of the Jeep and planted her feet, preparing to shove. She heard Bret put the Jeep in gear and press the accelerator. The engine roared, and the wheels in front of Nora sent up a fine, wet spray of mud that covered her legs and chest. Ignoring the muck, she shoved against the Jeep, straining every muscle.
The wheels spun faster with the powerful whine of the engine, mud splattering her legs and oozing down into her boots. Then she felt it, a movement forward, the smallest shudder, then a hesitation. Bret must have felt it too, because the engine suddenly revved faster until, in a lunge, the Jeep was free.
"We did it!" Nora straightened as he pulled the vehicle on to firmer ground, the roar of the engine ringing in her ears.
Caught up in the triumph of the moment, she stood looking at the Jeep, now on solid ground.
Bret turned around to grin at her. ''I'll be expecting some pretty heavy gratitude."
"It' s your fault we got stuck in the first place," she declared, wading through the mud puddle dug by the Jeep's tires.
"You know," he said with a smirk, "these muddy pastures are tricky. We could get stuck again while we're trying to get out of here. I'll drive more carefully if I have an incentive."
"I'll give you incentive!" She scooped up a handful of mud.
Bret started laughing. "You wouldn't."
Without hesitation, she let it fly, the loose, wet mud splattering just the side of his shirt as he moved to dodge her missile.
"That does it." He advanced toward her, as menacing as possible for a man wearing underwear and cowboy boots.
Nora turned and slogged away from him. "I don't have time for this," she shrieked. "Bret!"
"You started it." He grabbed Nora and caught her off balance.
She teetered for a moment before falling splat! on her rear. In a flash, Bret was beside her, his body shaking with laughter as he knelt and scooped her into his arms. "You make such a beautiful piggie in a mud puddle," he teased softly as his mouth came down on hers.
Passion exploded inside of her, mingled with relief.
She clung to him, lost in the moment, knowing she should be getting up and hurrying back to town, but not caring. It had been so long since they'd kissed. He kissed her, his mouth magic on hers. Desire pounded through Nora, leaving her head buzzing. She found herself gasping as Bret lifted his head, looking at her with hunger in his eyes.
It was only then that the sound of an approaching engine broke through to her consciousness.
Nora whipped her head around, knowing in the flash of an instant that her worst fear was being realized. Here she was wallowing in the mud with Bret, half naked beside a public road. Her T-shirt and panties were plastered against her body, making her look like a refugee from a mud-wrestling match.
Stunned, she just stared at the car. The big old convertible sat only yards away.
In it was Cissy Burton with her parents. Three pairs of eyes fastened on them as the car rolled to a stop.
Her brain too numb to react, Nora had only her instinct to save her. Without hesitation, she rolled away from Bret and struggled to her feet before diving for the nearest bush. She hit the ground with a thud. Huddled behind the bush, she peered through the leaves trying to find Bret. Please, God. Don't let them recognize us.
Sometimes prayers weren't answered. From behind the bush, Nora saw Cissy's smile widen. Bret stood in the muck, his mud-splattered shirt tails flapping.
"I must say, Bret," Mrs. Burton's outraged voice carried clearly. "It's bad enough that young woman caused so much trouble for Richard. But here you are cavorting out in the open with her. You should be ashamed."
"We got stuck," Bret said, a smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. "We just got the Jeep out."
"Yes, and how unfortunate you were unclothed at the time," Mrs. Burton retorted to the accompaniment of Cissy's giggle.
Cissy's father cleared his throat, his amusement visible through the leaves of Nora's shelter. "I must say, that Nora Hampton does seem to enjoy getting a man's blood pressure up."
Nora felt her own blood begin to boil.
"So, uh. You need any help?" Sam Burton asked, grinning.
"No," Bret said, less amused. "No need to keep you folks."
Cissy trilled another giggle. "Oh, Bret. We're just going to see Aunt Sallie. You remember, you told me to say hi to her when I told you we were coming out this way today."
Nora gasped. Bret knew the Burtons were coming this way today? He'd known it and still suggested they strip?
"Hey, Bret," Sam called out. "I hear you finally made an offer on the Turner property."
Nora saw Bret's back stiffen, his body seeming to freeze.
Bret had offered to buy the Turner property?
"Uh...yeah. Well, thanks for stopping. We're fine."
"If that Nora thinks Sara Turner would sell her land to a hussy, she doesn't know anything." Mrs. Burton's voice rang triumphant. "Stoneburg isn't the place for that girl, after the scandal she caused."
A buzzing filled Nora's ears as she watched Bret step closer to the Burton's car, his words an indistinct blur.
He was trying to buy her property.
She huddled in the bush, barely aware of the Burtons driving away, her mind a furious jumble of realizations.
He'd never mentioned his interest in the land. Why not?
All this time while he'd been encouraging her to take off her clothes and cavort with him—all along he'd wanted her land.
Bret had set her up. A dozen little things fell into place. Rage thundered through her. She'd given her heart to him and all he'd done was betray her.
"They're gone, Nora. You can come out."
Without his encouragement she'd have never gone to the Roadhouse, never shown up at the Association barbecue and had that public argument with Richard. Without Bret's pushing to come see this land today, she'd be sitting at Mrs. Turner's now.
Nora erupted from the bush. "You lying, cheating jerk!"
"Now, Nora." Bret held out a calming hand. "You don't have the whole picture."
"I thought I'd been set up before, but Richard can't touch you when it comes to deception." She stomped toward him, her feet sloshing in her mud-soaked boots.
"If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain," he said, his voice frustrated.
"You must want that land pretty bad," she said scathingly.
"I have had my eye on it for a while," he admitted. "It's the perfect place for my landing strip. But--”
"So you just set me up and watched me scheme and struggle to have my academy on that land while you made sure I never got it!"
"What are you talking about?" His face darkened with anger.
"All this time," she said, her voice shaking with betrayal and hurt, "you've been trying to get into my pants while plotting to keep me from getting the land!"
"What?" he said, his face conveniently thunderstruck.
"I've lost my one chance at the Turner property because you deliberately brought me out here today, deliberately got us stuck. Got me to strip off my clothes and stand naked by the road when you knew Cissy Burton would be coming by!" she shouted.
"That's not true!"
"I want to show you the bridge, Nora," she mimicked. "Go ahead, take off your jeans."
His eyes shifted, his expression darkening. "It's not the way it looks."
"No? So you haven't been after my land all this time? Haven't been deceiving me about that?"
"I never said I didn't want the Turner property," he said. "I just didn't talk to you about
it--"
"You just snuck behind my back to make sure Mrs. Turner won't ever sell to me! This whole mess today! Look at me!" She gestured toward herself bitterly, the muddy T-shirt faithfully outlining every curve. "How long do you think it'll take the Burton family to spread the word about this little fiasco? Nora Hampton wallowing in the mud with Stoneburg's gift to womankind."
Bret took a step toward her. He paused, seeming to struggle with his words. "Nora, none of that is true. I did want the land, but not if it meant losing you. I love you."
"Bull!"
Somewhat later, Bret turned the Jeep down the tree-lined street to the small house, pulling into the driveway.
A movement at the front window of the neighbor's house across the street left Nora little doubt that they'd been seen. The old biddy who lived there knew Mrs. Burton well. She would have been one of first people alerted to Nora's latest crime. The news was probably all over town by now. Mrs. Turner would have long since heard the story behind her missed appointment.
Nora got out of the Jeep without a backwards glance. She'd given men the benefit of the doubt one too many times. Walking away was the only thing to do now.
She marched up the walk to the porch, determined not to scurry, not to give in to shame. Opening the door, she went in.
Let the town go into a feeding frenzy of gossip. She couldn't find it in herself to care anymore.
"Nora Hampton! Look at you!" Her mother appeared in the hallway. "I couldn't believe my ears when Madeline called. You must be out of your mind, rolling naked in the mud with Bret!"
Yes, she'd been out of her mind. And for a while there, it had been heaven.
"Couldn't you at least put your clothes back on?" Her mother followed her down the hallway.
"Mother!" The word came out forcefully. ''I'm filthy, I'm tired and I don't want to discuss this subject right now."
"You may not want to discuss it, young lady, but--"
Nora went into her bedroom and shut the door, ignoring her mother's startled gasp. Later, when she could be calm, she'd sooth her mother's worries. Now she had her own wound to tend.
Stripping off her muddy clothes in the adjoining bathroom, she stepped into the shower and turned on the water. A hundred thoughts beat against her brain as steam filled the tub enclosure. She loved Bret Maddock. No matter what he'd done, no matter what a snake he was-she still loved him.
But she couldn't let herself stay here and be worn down by his presence. Maybe he wouldn't keep pursuing her, but that was too big a chance to take. She'd have no self-respect if she let herself be seduced back into his arms after this betrayal.
The whole town must be laughing at how easily he'd stolen the Turner property away from her. She knew from living with Richard that men laughed about things like that.
When the worst of the mud was off, Nora cleaned out the tub and filled it, pouring in bubble bath like a medicinal tonic. She sunk into the hot, foamy water, submerging to her chin.
How long could a person hide in the bathtub?
Sighing, Nora sunk lower under the bubbles. She felt too battered by the events of the day to think coherently. She knew it was past time she stopped trying to ignore the talk. Before she left for good, she had a few things to say to several of Stoneburg's prominent citizens. But right now, she needed to get out of the bathroom.
Sloshing out of the water, she toweled off briskly and tugged on her robe. Much to her relief, her bedroom was empty when she opened the door. She'd half expected to see her mother there, waiting for an explanation.
Dressing carelessly in an oversized shirt and leggings, Nora began combing out her wet hair. Then, the doorbell rang.
She frowned, not recognizing the voice in the hallway when her mother opened the door. Snatches of unidentifiable conversation drifted through the half-opened bedroom doorway.
"She's right in here." Sharon Hampton's voice drew closer. "Nora, you have a visitor," she announced, looking rattled as she ushered an immaculate Sara Turner into the bedroom.
Nora stared at the older woman, unable to believe her eyes.
"Good afternoon," Mrs. Turner said, her smile polite, her classic suit and pumps both beautiful and dignified.
Her greeting galvanized Nora forward, breaking the paralysis that kept her standing in front of the dresser, her hair brush clutched in her hand. "Mrs. Turner, I'm so sorry for missing my appointment with you this afternoon. I know it was terribly rude-"
The older woman waved her words aside. "That's quite all right. I understand you had a mishap."
Nora swallowed the lump in her throat, not knowing if she should go into the sordid details of the story. She glanced around the room, becoming conscious of the awkwardness of entertaining a visitor in one's bedroom.
"Won't you please sit down?" Nora gestured to a small armchair by the window.
"Thank you." Mrs. Turner sat down gracefully.
Despite her years, she maintained a cool, composed social presence that left Nora conscious of her wet hair and bare feet.
Nora stared into the woman's face, overcome by an insane desire to take one more shot at buying the property, to finish what she'd started. Maybe there was still a chance she could get the Turner land. Rubbin
g Bret's face in it would be far more satisfying than running away.
"Mrs. Turner, about the offer I made on your homestead--"
Sara Turner crossed her legs and said serenely, "I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm not really prepared to discuss the property. There are many things to consider before accepting or rejecting any offer on that land."
"You're not prepared to talk about it?" Nora echoed with surprise. "But what about our meeting?"
"Yes, of course." An expression of self-consciousness flashed briefly across the older woman's face. "Actually, I've been wishing to talk to you for some time. The incident today compelled me to come here unannounced.”
"The incident today?" Nora said hollowly.
"Yes." She paused, fidgeting with the handle of her purse. "I'm not sure if you know it, but I am not only the mother of a politician, but the daughter of one as well."
"Of course," Nora stammered, not sure where the woman was headed. "Yes, I do know that."
Everyone in town knew about her father, the illustrious Senator. It was a fact that often came up whenever the Senator's mayoral grandson came up for reelection.
"Then perhaps you will understand how I might sympathize with your difficulties lately."
Nora couldn't restrain her shocked, "You do?"
Mrs. Turner smiled briefly. "Why, yes." She stared down for a moment, seeming unsure how to continue. "It's easy for a young woman in the public eye to find herself in the position of having committed certain indiscretions.”
Sara Turner cleared her throat quietly.
Sitting on the corner of her bed, Nora grappled with the image of a much-younger, indiscreet Mrs. Turner. "Yes, of course,"' she murmured.
"When I was a girl, a number of men paid me flattering attention." Mrs. Turner smoothed the fabric of her skirt. "I was usually quite circumspect. My mother held very strict views. But one man in particular...well, I thought I was in love with him. He was older, you see, and very charming. I didn't find out until later that he had a wife in another city."
''I'm sorry," Nora murmured, easily able to sympathize with the other woman’s betrayal.
Mrs. Turner lifted her chin. ''I'm afraid there was a scandal, although my father managed to hush up most of it. Still, there are always people who delight in other's mistakes. I'm sure you know the kind to whom I refer."