“May I see it?” Diane asked, instantly interested.
The two women hurried out of the room, and Lee, left alone, went to the window to investigate the engine noises he’d heard earlier. A small cluster of men stood in the open area that passed as the hotel’s backyard, talking with the driver of a flatbed truck. John’s building materials had arrived.
Activity of another sort soon caught Lee’s eye. Two doors down he saw Karen Latham struggling with a large cardboard box as she tried to carry it up the antique shop’s exterior stairs.
He watched until he was sure she was in trouble.
SOMETHING WAS WRONG! Karen fumed as she moved the box this way and that. No matter how hard she pushed or pulled or tried to get it to swing to either side, it wouldn’t budge. She couldn’t put it down, either.
Perspiration broke from her pores as she grappled with the box in the hot August sun. She’d put too much in it—a double mistake, not only because the box wasn’t of top quality, being the last she’d had to choose from, but because it was too heavy and awkward to deal with.
Mentally, she prepared to count. On three she would give it a final sideways shove, which she hoped would dislodge it. If it didn’t, she sighed, she would have to call for help from the men outside the hotel. One...two...
Three had just formed in her mind when a presence suddenly loomed behind her and long arms reached around her to relieve her of the load.
“Let go,” a man’s voice directed near her ear. “I have it.”
Karen knew instantly who her rescuer was. And she instantly rejected his interference.
“Here...duck under,” he said, lifting an elbow for her to escape.
Karen wanted to refuse. What right did he, of all people, have to tell her what to do? But short of standing there arguing, with him pressed rather intimately against her, she had no other option. She ducked under and out and scooted down several steps.
She watched as he wrested the box to each side, then up and down—to no avail, just like her.
“It’s caught,” he said, glancing back. “Can you see what on?”
“No,” she said.
He smiled dryly. “That doesn’t surprise me. You have to look.”
“I’d rather not,” she returned.
“Why? Because you’d have to get close?”
Karen retook two steps and carefully peered around the left railing. “Move it back a little,” she instructed. “Yes. I see now. It’s caught on a nail.”
“Why won’t it pull free?”
“Maybe the nail’s caught on something inside. Maybe if we—” She brushed his arm and instantly recoiled.
“You want me to shake it?” he asked, openly amused.
Karen nodded.
Within seconds the box was free. “All right!” he cheered mildly.
Karen reached to take it back, but he’d already started up the remaining stairs.
“I can carry it from here,” she said quickly, catching up.
“Why? When I’ve already got it?”
“I’d still rather—”
“We’re almost to your place. What’s the problem?”
Karen gritted her teeth, moved past him on the landing and motioned him into her aunt’s apartment with an irritated flourish.
The small rooms were even smaller with his presence. He was taller than Alex, an inch or two over six foot, and a more substantial man. Still slim, yet—The difference between a man and a boy, came the unbidden thought, which Karen immediately repudiated.
“Over there will be fine,” she said stiffly, pointing to the dining room, where she’d pushed the table aside to make space for numerous boxes. She knew she wouldn’t be entertaining, so she’d have no need for the area.
He set the box in among the others and straightened, but he made no motion to leave. Instead, he surveyed her handiwork. “You’ve been busy,” he said.
“Yes. Thank you for helping.”
He ignored her dismissal. “So, this is Augusta’s place.”
Karen didn’t reply.
He examined a Rookwood vase that had been one of her aunt’s favorites. Arranged next to the vase on the sideboard was a small collection of paperweights, all manufactured by the same company. “Very nice,” he approved.
“I have to get back to work,” Karen said firmly.
“So do I.” Still, he made no move. “I suppose people who deal in antiques have a hard time letting go. They love it. That’s why they get into the business in the first place.” He looked at her. “Was that the way it was with your aunt? I’ve heard she left you a lot of things.”
“My aunt loved to collect,” Karen agreed.
“Worth a lot?” he asked outrageously.
Karen snapped, “I don’t see where that’s any of your—”
“You’re right. It’s not. Just put it down to curiosity.” He moved to a Navajo wool rug hanging on the wall. “This is nice, too. We did a segment on the women who make these out in Arizona—at least, the modern ones. Learned a lot about the people who’re still living on reservations.”
“I’m glad,” Karen said.
He smiled at the shortness of her reply, which did funny things to her equilibrium—which she instantly insisted to herself was caused by stress and too much sun while she was out on the stairs.
He commented, “There seems to be an argument going on in town about the best course for Twilight’s future. How do you think your aunt would feel about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bette said your position is the same as hers—middle-of-the-road.”
“I don’t live here.”
“But if you did...”
He took a step in her direction and for some insane reason her heart rate quickened. She couldn’t prevent herself from backing up, which seemed to amuse him even more.
“I truly don’t bite,” he teased.
“Would you go now, please?” she requested tightly.
“After one more question.” His humor faded. “Bette also said you’re the person to help with Pete. That he’d listen if you asked him to talk to us. Do you think you could bury the hatchet long enough to act as intermediary?”
Karen was aghast at his nerve. “Is that what this is all about?” she demanded. “You want me to help you?” Her laugh was caustic. “No, Mr. Parker, I don’t think so. I don’t think so at all!”
“That’s not—”
“I said no! Do you have a problem with that word? Haven’t you ever heard it before? Or is it that being a Parker immunizes you from the disappointments the rest of us ordinary human beings have to face!”
“The Parkers aren’t—” he defended.
“The Parkers are snobs of the worst sort. You don’t think anyone else is good enough to breathe the same air. Does it ever get lonely up on Mount Olympus, Mr. Parker? I would imagine it’s a huge bore to be a god.”
The anger she’d exhibited previously had been only a warmup to what she felt now. She could hear herself spewing invective. Just like her mother, she’d lost control. She could no more stop herself than she could make yesterday be today. Because of the circumstances seven years ago, she’d never had the opportunity to release her anger. To rail against the Parkers to the Parkers about what they’d done to her—what they’d done to her family. Almost two years had passed before she’d been fully able to pick up the pieces and resume an ordinary life. Before she’d been able to see that she was good enough. That the problem wasn’t hers, it was theirs!
Answering anger sparked in his eyes, which made her happy, because that meant her hard thrusts had hit home. He should suffer. They all should suffer after everything they’d put her through.
He grabbed her arm and she was glad about that, too. Let him assault her. She’d have him arrested in a second. She’d—
“Did you love Alex that much?” he demanded harshly, his face close enough that she could feel his breath. “Well, you might as well know the truth—he didn’t love you. No
t the way you wanted him to. I’d just got through pulling him out of a mess with one girl, when he told me he was engaged to you. Alex thinks only of himself. He always has and always will.”
“That’s not true!”
“It is! His behavior brings shame to the Parker name. I don’t enjoy saying that about my brother, but it’s a fact. And you should know it.”
Karen continued to glare at him. She didn’t want to believe a word he said. She’d lived with her anger for seven long years. She wasn’t prepared to let go of it so easily.
He said something indecipherable—she had no idea what—and the next moment his mouth was fixed firmly on hers.
Karen fought against him, trying everything she knew to make the contact stop. Then her struggles ceased. From the time she was a young girl, she’d been taught to be the master of her sexuality. Taught that the mind could hold dominance over the body. And she’d believed it, living her life accordingly. Neither Alex nor Martin had ever seriously challenged this conviction. No man had. Until now.
A fireball of response burst through her, shocking her with its intensity. Suddenly, Lee was what she wanted. What she had to have. Now. This instant. She became consumed with an all-encompassing need. The kiss went on and on, becoming much more than a kiss—
Then some small niggle of responsibility broke through. What was she doing? And with whom? She dragged her mouth away from his, gasping for breath, and only in that second did she realize she stood braced against the wall, her clothing in disarray, his body pressed against hers, one hand fondling a breast while the other massaged the curve of her hip.
She shuddered, appalled by what had occurred. How had she ever come to let him—encouraged him, even—
He, too, seemed dazed by what had happened, but Karen chose not to acknowledge it. She needed someone to strike out against, someone to blame besides herself.
“Get your hands off me!” she said emphatically.
He jerked away and she almost lost her balance, not realizing how much she had been relying on him for support.
“Don’t say a word,” she ordered, when he seemed about to speak. “Just go!”
She could tell he wasn’t accustomed to being dismissed in such a cold-blooded way, but she couldn’t trust herself to address him in any other manner.
She made the mistake of meeting his eyes, and where before they’d haunted her with their iciness, she now worried that she’d never be able to forget the way they could smolder with thwarted passion.
Her body tingled, and for a brief second she wanted to melt against him again, to go back to the place they’d been before, where nothing mattered except each other, but her mind was back in charge now. The rebellion was quashed.
Without a word, he left as she requested, closing the door softly behind him.
When she was at last alone, Karen collapsed against the wall. She couldn’t believe it. Her...him! It didn’t seem possible. Instinctively, she ran a hand lightly over the breast he’d fondled, before moving it to the curve of her neck and her mouth, where his lips had created such pleasurable havoc.
It didn’t seem possible that something like that could happen.
But it had.
LEE NEEDED SOMEWHERE to think. He felt just as shaken as Karen had looked.
It was insanity! The whole ten or fifteen minutes. How had the situation gotten away from him? He’d been talking to her about Augusta, about the town, about Pete. She’d taken deep offense when he’d asked her to help them, struck out angrily and made him angry in return. Then his anger had deserted him, and he’d found himself kissing her as if it were something he’d been longing to do for untold years.
She’d been close, he’d been close. He remembered the soft, sweet scent of flowers, and the next thing...
“So, there you are!” Diane cried, breaking into his thoughts. “What are you doing down here?”
He’d chosen a table in a far corner of the empty saloon to recover.
“We wondered where you’d disappeared to,” Diane said. Then she leaned closer to examine him. “What’s wrong? You look funny. Do you feel ill?”
“It’s the light,” Lee said gruffly.
Diane glanced around. “Why are you all the way back here? Someone could think you’re hiding.”
“Did the photograph hold up?” he asked. He needed a return to the business at hand, to get his boots planted firmly back on the ground, but this was a little too soon.
“We might be able to use it. There’s more of the well showing than Bette remembered.” She paused. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Sure I’m sure. Why were you looking for me?”
Diane seemed disturbed by his curious demeanor, but she knew him well enough to sense when to leave things alone. “Bette asked if she could ride along with me to Davisville. I told her she could. You don’t have any reason why she shouldn’t, do you? You don’t need her here for anything?”
“Not a thing.”
“Good. I think she’s looking forward to an outing.” She sighed. “I truly don’t know how these people do it. I know we see this all the time—the hardy folk who live in little out-of-the-way spots. Few, I might add, that are as ‘out-of-the-way’ as this. I also know we’re on the road a lot ourselves. But we get to go back to San Francisco when we’re done, where everything’s just a short walk away. Food... what kind do you want? Theaters, museums...again, what kind do you want? I don’t think I could live my life in such an isolated place. And I wonder how they can.”
“Who knows?” Lee said shortly, shrugging. “Who knows why anyone does anything?”
Then he stood up and walked away, leaving Diane to stare after him.
KAREN RESOLVED not to set foot outside her aunt’s apartment for the rest of the day. She tried to busy herself by making a closer inspection of the contents of a few of the boxes already upstairs—a chore she would have to do eventually, anyway. But there was no way she could concentrate. All she could think about was that kiss.
Memory of how deeply her emotions had been stirred intensified her search for an answer. Lee claimed he wasn’t like his brother, but he was. They had similar looks, similar builds. There also had to be something about being a Parker that fed into the mystique, as well--something more than confidence, arrogance and wealth. She’d once found Alex attractive, so naturally a flare-up of a similar nature should be expected when she was with a person who reminded her of him. Shouldn’t it?
Except it had never been that way with Alex. He’d never made her want him with a desperation that caused her to feel she would die if they were to part too soon.
Nature was a funny thing, she thought as she fanned herself in the suddenly too warm room. It abhorred a vacuum yet didn’t care what it used for filler. Martin had been a quiet presence in her life for these past two years. He was comfortable, safe. With him, she felt no physical pressures that unsettled her. Yes, that had to be it! A confluence of circumstance, with Lee Parker once again acting as catalyst. He’d been present years before at the worst moment of her life and was here now when she was stressed by the loss of her aunt, not to mention facing another set of farreaching decisions about her future.
He seemed to have a knack for being where she didn’t want him.
Short of breaking down the door, though, he wasn’t going to get another chance at her anytime soon. When the moment was right, she’d emerge, in cool and complete control of herself, and dare him to bring up this morning.
Karen forced herself to go back to her aunt’s extensive collection of reference books, and this time her concentration was better. She was able to work for hours, comparing marks and descriptions and sometimes published photographs with the articles that most interested her. It was much later before she heard a commotion out back that made her tear herself from her study.
The afternoon sun bore down on the trio of angry men standing just inside her aunt’s backyard. John, Joe and Hank were talking loudly, with one or the other of the
m gesturing occasionally toward Pete’s shack in the distance. Soon the crowd increased, as others heard the ruckus and came to join it.
“Somethin’s got to be done about it,” Hank said tightly.
“We just can’t put up with it anymore!” Joe agreed.
“What’s this? What’s happened?” Mary demanded as she steamed up.
“Pete’s took our nails!” Joe answered. “You can’t fix anything without nails! And he knows it.”
“It’s not like it’s the first bad thing he’s done, neither,” Hank added, scowling. “Man’s gone off the deep end, I tell ya. We have to stop him before he messes everything up.”
“We don’t know Pete stole ’em,” John said, trying to be reasonable.
“Who else woulda done it, then?” Joe demanded. “They were there. I saw ’em with my own two eyes.”
“He’s got to be stopped,” Rhonda said, siding with her husband.
“Yes!” Carmelita agreed, her grandson, Jesse, balanced on a broad hip.
Karen didn’t wait to hear more. She hurried downstairs.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” she asked urgently as she joined them, already knowing the answer but hoping to buy a little time.
“Pete’s took our new nails!” Hank accused.
“I’m afraid he has,” John said, looking pained. “They were there this momin’ and now they’re gone. And Pete’s the only suspect we’ve got. Nobody else would do it, only him.”
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Karen suggested, glancing hopefully from one to the other.
“Yeah,” Joe said flatly, “it’s a mistake. Just like when he hid the extension cord and made off with the hammers.”
Twilight, Texas Page 10