by Janet Dailey
"No, not this time," she shook her head firmly. "Come on, Duchess," she called to the dog. "It's time for us to leave."
The shepherd trotted obediently to her side, but as they walked toward the car, Duchess lagged farther and farther behind. When Cathie opened the back door for the dog to climb in, Duchess stopped completely, her tail tucked between her legs and her pointed nose almost touching the ground.
"I don't think she wants to leave," Tad spoke.
At the sound of the boy's voice, Duchess slunk toward him, casting furtive glances behind her when Cathie ordered her back. The back screen door slammed. Cathie, who had been walking toward the dog hiding behind Tad's legs, glanced up to see Rob striding toward them. Duchess also saw the two adults converging on her and decided that the small boy didn't offer much protection. With a spurt of rebellion, the dog ignored the commands from Cathie and raced for the comparative safety of the little-used front porch and squeezed through a hole in the foundation.
"She won't come out from there until dark," Cathie sighed in exasperation.
"I guess she still considers this her home." Rob glanced down at her troubled expression, his innate awareness sensing her nervous desire to leave quickly.
"I'm afraid so."
"Does that mean we can keep her?" Tad piped up from behind them.
"Duchess belongs to Cathie, Tad," Rob corrected his son gently.
In her heart, Cathie disagreed, knowing that the dog belonged to the Homeplace, the farm. "Perhaps in the morning you'll be able to catch her," she said aloud.
"I'll bring her to you when I do," Rob assured her.
"Thank you. I'm sorry to put you to this trouble, but I never dreamed this would happen when I brought Duchess out here. A lot of things she's been, but never disobedient."
"It's no trouble." Cathie wasn't capable of meeting his gaze. Her nerves were too raw from their encounter in the pasture. The noncommittal look in his eyes told her he knew it as he held her car door open. "It will be a pleasure," he added.
Any softening in her attitude because she felt she was inconveniencing him was immediately erased by the infuriating realization that he could somehow read her mind. An eyebrow arched haughtily above a jade-green eye.
"You seem to forget, Mr. Douglas, that I'm engaged," Cathie reminded him none too gently, while making sure the ring on her left hand reflected the rays of the afternoon sun.
"No, I haven't forgotten, Miss Carlsen." Rob's mouth moved in a semblance of a smile as he shut the door and stepped back. "Have you?"
His reflection remained in her rearview mirror until Cathie made the turn out of the driveway onto the country road. He was absolutely insufferable, she told herself, so sure of his attraction that he thought every woman would fall at his feet. His casual flirting with her when he knew she was engaged added more fuel for her fiery temper.
There was only time for a hasty shower before Andy and Connie arrived at the house from work. The kitchen was stifling hot and Cathie knew it would be unbearable if she cooked anything on the stove. There was a fresh head of lettuce in the refrigerator, some leftover ham and chicken, a small bowl of hard-boiled eggs and two tomatoes. Add to that some cubes of cheddar cheese and she would have an adequate salad for their meal.
Later, after her roommates had returned home and the meal had been eaten, it was Connie who first commented on Duchess's absence.
"I see you've finally got rid of that mongrel," she observed, stepping into the hallway where the dog usually laid while Andy began the task of clearing away the dishes. "I was constantly finding dog hairs on my clothes, not to mention the odor that clung to everything."
"I haven't got rid of Duchess," Cathie corrected her sharply.
"You should," Connie sniffed, walking briskly from the room.
"Where is she?" Andy asked. "Is she sick?"
"No, nothing like that." Cathie hesitated, finding herself unwilling even to confide to Andy exactly where Duchess was. But lies had always caught up with her in the past. "I went out to the Homeplace today to see Tad. I took Duchess along and she hid from me when it was time to come home."
"Oh, no! So what are you going to do? You can't leave her out there."
"Tad's father is going to bring her back tomorrow."
"The poor dear probably thought she was going home for good," Andy commented, turning on the taps and filling the sink with soapy water. "What time is Mr. Douglas coming?" There was a merry twinkle in her dark eyes. "Now that he's evidently dropped Connie I might take a whirl at landing him myself!'
"I imagine he'll bring her back in the morning,'' Cathie answered, anxious to get off the subject of Rob Douglas.
"Naturally he'll come when I'm at work," Andy moaned.
Rob Douglas didn't bring Duchess back in the morning or the afternoon. Cathie had decided that they hadn't been able to catch the dog and was toying with the idea of calling to find out when Clay arrived to take her out to the theater.
"Are you ready to go?" he queried, dropping her an affectionate peck on her tanned cheeks.
"In a minute," she smiled, walking toward the telephone. "I was just going to call out to the farm to see if they've caught Duchess yet."
"The farm? Do you mean the Homeplace?" His forehead became creased with a curious frown. "What is Duchess doing out there?"
"I took her out there yesterday for a run when I called to see Tad," she answered calmly as she picked up the receiver.
Cathie knew Clay was averse to her decision to visit the boy now that school was out. Feeling that Rob had told her of his past marriage in confidence, she hadn't mentioned the true circumstances to Clay. He felt it was no longer her concern how the boy adjusted since he wouldn't be in her class in the autumn.
"He's here!' Andy squeaked, bounding into the living room via the kitchen hall. "He just drove up this minute!"
"Who?" Clay asked, but Cathie already knew.
"Rob Douglas," Andy informed Clay.
Cathie had already replaced the receiver and had turned toward the door. "Does he have the Duchess with him?" she asked, wiping the nervous sweat that had suddenly collected in the palm of her hands on the sides of her pink linen dress.
"Yes, I caught a glimpse of her in the back seat of his car," Andy told her, tagging along behind Clay and Cathie.
Rob was just getting out of his car when the three walked out the front door. A hand raised in greeting to them before coaxing the reluctant shepherd out of the car.
"Duchess doesn't seem very happy to be back," Clay commented when Cathie took the leash from Rob and nearly pulled the dog toward her.
"If you think she's unhappy, you should see Tad," Rob smiled, taking the hand that Clay offered in greeting. "He was practically heartbroken when I put the dog in the car."
If that was supposed to make Cathie feel guilty, it succeeded, combined with the very slight wag of the dog's tail when she petted the shepherd. "I appreciate you bringing her back," she said, unable to put any warmth in her voice.
"I'm sorry I didn't bring her back earlier," said Rob, without a trace of regret in his voice, "but she and Tad were having such a good time that I didn't see any hurry, especially when I had work to do in the fields."
"Thank you for bringing her anyway," Cathie repeated, feeling the hint was broad enough for anyone to see that she was anxious for Rob to be gone.
"Not at all," he replied blandly, his brown eyes mocking the coolness of her expression. His gaze flicked to the glistening curls of her shoulder length hair. "I'm glad to see that your hair didn't suffer from the cockleburs."
"Cockleburs? What's this about the cockleburs?" Clay picked up the subject immediately, despite the glaring look from Cathie.
"Didn't she tell you?" Rob looked innocently at Clay. "Cathie took a header into some itchweed and cockleburs when she was out to the farm yesterday. It took a while for me to get the burrs out of her hair and clothes."
If looks could kill, Cathie would have sent Rob six feet under. Sh
e bit at her lower lip to keep the scathing retort from slipping out, aware that under the tan, her cheeks were taking on a rosy hue.
"No, she didn't mention it to me." Without looking, Cathie could feel the inquisitive eyes of her fiancé turn on her.
"It was hardly important," she shrugged.
"Oh, it could have been." A mocking smile curled one corner of Rob's mouth. "Especially if that beautiful honey-colored hair of yours had had to be cut to free it from the burrs." He glanced from one to the other. "You two are obviously going out somewhere, so I won't keep you any longer. I just wanted to return your dog."
After Rob had driven away, Cathie wasted no time in chaining the unhappy shepherd to her kennel. Andy winked at her broadly as Cathie walked past her to Clay.
"What was all that about?" Clay inquired when they were both in his car and en route to the theater.
"What?" Cathie asked, deliberately playing ignorant.
"That episode yesterday with Douglas."
"Just what he said. I tumbled into some weeds and got a few cockleburs in my clothes and hair."
Clay turned his attention away from the road ahead of them to survey her with a particularly amused look. "It didn't sound quite as simple as that the way he told it."
"You can't go by what he said," she declared sharply.
"Why not?"
"Don't be silly, Clay. It's not worth arguing about," she insisted.
"Who's arguing?" Clay asked. After one more thoughtful glance, the subject was dropped… to Cathie's relief.
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Chapter Seven
A SATISFIED GLEAM lit her jade eyes as Cathie fluffed the short curls on top of her head. She hadn't realized how hot and heavy her long hair had been in the summer's heat. The small rectangular mirror in the choir's changing room confirmed the compliments she had received from her friends that the new, shorter style was attractive. What she couldn't see for herself was that the long hair had emphasized her youth while the perfectly-shaped shorter style of gently waving curls made her appear more womanly and alluring.
Clay, who often got upset with her but never angry, had been on the verge of it the night before when he had picked her up for their regular Saturday date. Cathie had always known he was old-fashioned and had more than once stated his preference for long hair, but she never dreamed he would attempt to dictate how she wore her own hair. It had been a totally unpleasant evening.
In all honesty, Cathie knew she hadn't been indulging in a mere whim when she had gotten her hair cut. The original decision had come from a defiant desire to show Rob Douglas that his compliments meant nothing to her. If he liked her hair long, then she disliked it. Clay might have put the wrong conjecture on such reasoning, so she hadn't confided in him.
It had been a disappointment in church this morning to discover that Rob Douglas wasn't in his usual pew. She would have enjoyed seeing the expression on his face when he saw her cropped-off hair. That moment of satisfaction would have to come another time, Cathie decided, smoothing her simply-styled, jade-green dress.
She was one of the last to leave the choir room. Clay wouldn't be waiting for her this Sunday. He was visiting his parents, and after last night's near argument Cathie had decided not to go with him. She didn't know quite what she would do since she couldn't remember the last time she had spent a Sunday without Clay.
As she reached the pavement, she was toying with the idea of driving to Black Hawk Lake for an afternoon swim when she heard someone call her name. Cathie glanced back toward the church and saw Rob Douglas walking toward her. His lithe, athletic stride automatically called attention to him and she could feel the questioning eyes of the remaining members of the congregation turn toward her. Cathie could almost read their thoughts as she felt herself reddening that Rob Douglas had singled her out in front of everyone. They had probably all noticed the absence of Clay.
To make matters worse, Rob took her by the elbow and led her aside so they wouldn't be blocking the pavement, then retained the light grip on her arm. His eyes flicked over her hair and then alighted on her face.
"That's quite an improvement," he commented dryly.
"I thought you liked long hair," Cathie declared without thinking.
That half-smile curved his mouth as he looked down at her with lazy amusement. "I don't like long hair just for the sake of long hair. This style suits your personality a bit more. It's a little cheeky and sophisticated, very much like a feline."
This wasn't turning out the way she intended it at all. "What did you want to speak to me about, she demanded, wanting a quick end to the conversation.
"I found a small trunk tucked away in the corner of the attic that must be your grandparents. It's filled with old clothing and such, from what I could tell. Since it's rather heavy, I thought if you could come out to my place this afternoon I could help you load it into your car and take it home."
Cathie had expected him to bring up something to do with Tad. She was at a loss for words when she discovered that he was only attempting to return something that quite evidently belonged to her family now.
"Yes, I can come out this afternoon, she replied, blinking up at him in confusion.
Around three?" Rob asked with the complacency of a man who knows the answer is yes.
"I'll be there," Cathie nodded.
His hand left her elbow as he stepped away, raising his voice almost deliberately for the benefit of the onlookers to say; "I'll see you this afternoon, then."
Cathie's teeth ground tightly together as she saw the speculating looks appear in the men's eyes while the women regarded her with disapproval. How many times had she joked that in a small town something was no sooner done than said, but she had never thought she would be the object of the censure. They surely couldn't believe that she was arranging an assignation with Rob Douglas on the church lawn? Well, the damage was done, Cathie thought to herself, and idle talk never hurt anyone. If only that nagging feeling would leave that Rob Douglas had known all along that this was going to happen.
The short walk from the church to her house was completed in record time as anger lent impetus to her pace. Once there, Cathie debated whether to change into a pair of casual slacks and blouse before deciding that if she remained wearing the green dress and her open-toes white sandals with their high heels she would be less likely to be talked into staying by Tad or Rob.
Her original plans for the day called for eating her midday meal out and Cathie stuck to it, choosing a leisurely drive over the back roads of the farmland to pass the time before her appointment with Rob Douglas at the Homeplace. When her grandparents were alive they had spent many a pleasant hour doing the same thing. Her grandfather, even though no longer able to farm himself, was always interested in the condition of his neighbor's crops. Cathie could almost hear his comments as she drove past the neat, symmetrical fields of corn and wheat.
"Arthur has a good-looking field of soy beans there," or "That corn crop of MacDuff's is a disgrace. Just look at the weeds in the field!" Corn had been Grandfather Carlsen's favorite subject. He had always been extremely proud that Iowa was known as the "Tall Corn" state. Cathie smiled as she remembered how he used to tease her slightly plump grandmother that she had been corn bred and corn fed, just like the succulent Iowa beef.
A hen pheasant dashed across the road in front of her, forcing Cathie to slow down. Wavelike rows of young corn bordered each side of the road, freshly disced so that the rich, black soil contrasted sharply with the green of its stalk and leaves and the burgeoning tassels on top. When she had been a child, the measuring stick for a good corn crop—barring bad weather—had been if it was knee-high by the Fourth of July. With all the agricultural improvements that had been made, it was usually hip-high by that time.
As a meadowlark exposed his yellow throat to the sun from his perch on a fencepost and trilled his song to the country, Cathie arrived at another intersection in the graveled road. She made the turn, expe
riencing the desire of an old carriage horse to hurry the last mile home. There, on the small hilltop on the other side of the Boyer River, sat the farm buildings that until Rob Douglas came had always constituted the Homeplace.
The memories had closed around her and it was hard to bring herself back to the reality of a new owner without bringing resentment back, too. Ten minutes early, her gold watch told her as she made the turn off the county road on to the short lane. But it wasn't only resentment that was making her uneasy about this visit with Rob Douglas. There was something else that made her apprehensive to be around him that had nothing to do with his owning her grandparents' farm.
A strange car was parked in the driveway in front of the yard. As she drew closer, Cathie recognized the man behind the wheel as Charlie Smith's father. If it hadn't been that he had already seen her and was waving, she would have turned and driven right back out. Stop feeling so guilty for coming out here, she chided herself, parking the car a few feet away from his.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Smith," she called gaily as she stepped out of her car. The screen door banged at the house and Cathie glanced around to see Charlie and Tad walking down the path followed by Rob.
"How are you, Miss Carlsen," Charlie's father replied, tilting his straw hat back to reveal the white band around his forehead in contrast to his sunburned face. "Chuck and I were planning on doing a little fishing down at the river. We just stopped up here to make sure it was all right with Mr. Douglas."
"Hi, Miss Carlsen," Charlie greeted her before turning to his father to babble excitedly. "Tad knows a real good place to fish so I invited him along. He says we'll catch lots and lots."
"Come along, then, Tad," the man said, waving airily, "Grab your pole and climb in."
Tad glanced anxiously from Cathie to his father, his expression revealing that he was unsure whether to leave now that Cathie had arrived.
"Run along, Tad," Rob prompted gently. "Cathie only came out this time to pick up a trunk that was left behind in the moving."