The Homeplace

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The Homeplace Page 10

by Janet Dailey


  "Sometimes it can be like that between two people," Rob said calmly.

  He had just turned her world upside down, made all her firmly held beliefs vanish with one fiery kiss, and he was acting as if it was the most natural statement to make. She had never felt this drowning sensation when Clay kissed her, only a tender, loving desire to give and receive. There was no overwhelming reaction between them such as she had just experienced with Rob.

  But with Clay there was that precious feeling of security, Cathie argued silently with herself. She wasn't drawn to the brink and then plummeted into some whirlpool of passionate longing. The first emotion would last forever. How long would the second last, she asked herself and shuddered inwardly at the frightening thought. She mustn't allow herself to fall in love with Rob Douglas, to be caught up in the spell he was trying to weave.

  His dark eyes were still regarding her, waiting for her to comment, to admit that it hadn't been a casual kiss. A glittering light of anger flamed in her eyes as she studied the tall, arrogant man standing so calmly in front of her. Rob Douglas, the new owner of the Carlsen farm—the Homeplace that was so precious to her and had always been so much a part of her life. He was living here now where he had no right to be, regardless of any signatures on legal documents. His presence had already destroyed one long-held dream of hers to live on the farm and raise her family. She wasn't about to let him destroy her relationship with Clay. For nearly six years she had planned to marry Clay and she was not going to allow one kiss from this usurper to change her mind.

  "Did you expect me to melt into a quivering mass of jelly at your feet?" Cathie asked scornfully, tilting her head back so he could see the contempt written in her face. "I concede that you're quite skilled in evoking a response from a woman, but the effect doesn't last."

  Her scathing words only brought a sparkle of indulgent amusement to his eyes. "I have half a mind to make you eat that pride of yours," Rob grinned without the slightest dent to his ego.

  He moved toward her and Cathie took a quick step backward, tripping over the trunk and nearly falling. His quick reaction kept her upright although the touch of his hands on her back sent fresh goosebumps up her spine. Rob knew it, knew that part of her wanted to taste the wild honey of temptation again.

  "Let me go!". she ordered, surprised, at how convincing her voice sounded with his mouth so hypnotically close.

  She expected him to disregard her demand and force her to submit to another embrace. She had to hide her surprise and regret when Rob did as she asked and let her go.

  "You can sheathe your claws, Cat," he smiled. "Patience is one of a writer's most valuable virtues. I've learned that waiting only increases the pleasure."

  The fuse to Cathie's temper took fire and raced away. "Then you'd better pray for a major catastrophe, Mr. Douglas," she exploded, "because I wouldn't look at you unless you were the last man on earth, and even then I would probably still get violently ill at the sight of you!"

  "Illness!" He laughed outright at that, like an adult at a child's spiteful words. "Is that the way you're reasoning away that funny feeling at the pit of your stomach? Oh, my little green-eyed Cat, you have a great deal to learn."

  "You won't be teaching me," she said determinedly, trying to ignore the twisted knots in her stomach.

  Rob sighed almost contentedly as he finally turned his diamond-bright gaze from her. "I know you're anxious to run away. Would you like me to carry the trunk down to the car for you?"

  The trunk? Cathie touched her forehead, feeling the short blond curls trumbling about her head in disarray. That was why she had come here in the first place—for the trunk. That seemed an eternity ago.

  "Yes, please," she said stiffly, watching with grudging admiration as he picked up the heavy old trunk with ease and carried it through the door toward the stairwell.

  After the trunk had been safely stowed in the back of the car, Rob turned toward Cathie, her car keys still in his hand. She reached out to take them, but his fingers closed over them.

  "I can't let you leave without offering you something cold to drink," he said. At the expression of refusal leaping into her face, Rob continued before she could voice it. "We could sit over there underneath that big walnut tree by the cornfield. If you don't feel like carrying on a civil conversation, we can sit and listen to the corn grow."

  Cathie inhaled sharply at his last statement. She couldn't count the times she had heard her grandfather make the same comment. The walnut tree had been his choice, too, for those lazy summer evenings when even the crickets' and cicadas' songs were slow and somnolent. Often Cathie had sat with her grandfather and listened to those soft crackling sounds which he had assured her was the corn growing in the nearby field. And now this intruder was saying the same thing, not laughingly as Clay had always done, but sincerely like her grandfather.

  "No," she breathed quickly, her eyes widening as her blond head made a negative movement. "No, I don't care for anything, I have to go."

  "Tad will be sorry he missed you," said Rob. His gaze narrowed, not guessing how close his casual comment had come to piercing her shield of angry pride, but knowing for a moment she had been vulnerable to his suggestion.

  "Yes, well," Cathie stumbled, "he knows there'll be other times. May I have my keys.?"

  Rob handed them over to her and she slid quickly behind the wheel of her car before some traitorous part of her would agree to stay. As she drove out the lane, Cathie made a silent promise to herself that she would begin breaking off her connection with Tad. It would have to be done slowly so he wouldn't feel she was deserting him, but if his afternoon fishing expedition with Charlie was successful it wouldn't be too difficult to accomplish. The sooner she avoided all contact with the Douglas family the better off she would be.

  This conclusion was reached by Cathie's grim determination that she never wanted to be trapped in a situation like today where she was tricked into kissing Rob Douglas. Never again did she want to lose control of her emotions and be swept away on a rising tide of pointless desires. Her mind reached the decision with cool and calm calculations, which made the tears on her cheeks come as a surprise when their salty taste reached her lips.

  THERE WAS THE WHOOSH of another rocket leaping into the midnight-blue sky, then a sudden explosion of color drawing sighing "ahs" from the crowd gathered around the open athletic field. Tiers of artificial stars in layers of red, green and blue gently fell toward the earth as another rocket made its ascent. Cascading spirals of glittering gold whistled their way down to make room for more gaily colored shooting stars. Elsewhere around the fields was the rat-a-tat of a string of firecrackers being set off to accompany the more spectacular fireworks display.

  The Fourth of July—Independence Day—was marked all over the country by traditional celebrations such as the one Cathie was now watching, where the shattering, vibrating boom of the cannon rockets was softened by scattering showers of makebelieve stars. And Cathie still felt the same mixture of awe and excitement as she had when she was a child. The spasmodic illumination of the sky revealed the memories of past happiness in her eyes when her gaze was drawn to a pair of young children waving their magic wands called sparklers. They were dancing on the blanket their parents, like Cathie and Clay, had spread on the ground.

  Another group of children was racing around the parked cars. Cathie recognized Charlie Smith as the leader and was surprised to see Tad among the pack. She glanced furtively around for his father to find him quietly studying her several yards away. Rob Douglas was leaning against a car parked beside Clay's with several other people, one of whom was Connie. His head dipped in a silent greeting to her and Cathie spun around to concentrate on the fireworks display, feeling a burning heat rush over her cheeks.

  She had been so successful at avoiding any contact with Rob the past two weeks that she had truly believed her luck would last. She might have known he would bring Tad here tonight to see the fireworks, but Cathie had been confident that
the secluded corner of the field where she and Clay were would be off the beaten track.

  "Hello." Rob's voice came from Clay's side of the blanket. "Do you mind if we put our blanket next to yours, Clay?"

  "Help yourself," Clay smiled. "The ground is free."

  "Hi, Clay. Hi, Cathie," Andy declared pertly, forcing Cathie to turn in Rob's direction in order to greet her roommate.

  It wasn't just Rob and Connie as she had first thought but Andy and three others. The fair-haired man she knew because she had met him at the house when he had come to pick Andy up for a date. The third girl was a nurse a few years older than Cathie and the man with her was a new vet who had just moved into the area. There was a brief flurry of introductions to make sure everybody knew everybody.

  "It sure is hot tonight, isn't it?" Andy commented once the group was settled on the blankets with Andy and Rob spilling over onto Cathie's and Clay's—at Clay's suggestion. "The temperature must still be in the nineties and it's so humid," she continued, adding stress to the last word. "Don't you just feel sticky all over, Cathie?"

  "It is uncomfortable," Cathie agreed, keeping herself well back in Clay's shadow to conceal herself from Rob's eyes.

  "What an understatement!" Andy exclaimed. "All I do is move my arm and I sweat like a horse!'

  "Do you remember what your grandmother always used to say?" Clay tilted his head toward Cathie with a confiding look.

  "How could I forget?" she replied, widening her eyes in agreement. "I'll have you know, Andy, that horses sweat, men perspire, and ladies glow. At least, according to my grandmother they did."

  "Well, I am glowing!" Andy announced firmly, drawing chuckles from the small group.

  Before the subject could be carried further, Tad catapulted himself into the group, followed by a panting Charlie Smith. His cheeks were flushed and his sandy-brown hair clung to the perspiration on his forehead. Tad looked like a typical boy, grinning and excited.

  "Charlie asked me if I could stay overnight with him," he said breathlessly to Rob. "Can I, please?" His bright hazel eyes darted over to Cathie. "Hi!"

  "Hello, Tad," she smiled, happiness filling her heart at the genuine warmth in his eyes. No matter how she felt about his father she couldn't hold anything back in her affection for his son.

  "Do your parents know about your invitation, Charlie?" Rob inquired, turning from the eager face of his son to the shifting, impatient boy anxious to be away from the constricting adults.

  "Yes, sir." The freckled face bobbed quickly. "I've got six brothers and sisters and my mom said another boy for one night wouldn't make any difference. Can he come? He can wear some of my clothes and pajamas."

  "Please," Tad inserted when Rob still hesitated to give his approval.

  Andy's friend Dennis had engaged Clay in a conversation which left Cathie free to listen in on this exchange between father and son. Tad was joining in, becoming a part of other children his own age. Her jewel eyes gleamed with the success of his transition while she waited breathlessly in case Rob wouldn't agree. Rob must have sensed her anxious gaze resting on him. As he turned, his eyes silently asked her opinion. Her blond curls moved in a barely perceptible nod of agreement, and the velvet-brown eyes smiled back before Rob turned away.

  "You can stay overnight, but—" the qualifying word halted the two boys in midflight "—I want you to take me to your parents, Charlie, so I can make arrangements to pick Tad up tomorrow when it's convenient for them."

  Cathie watched the trio walk away, Rob's supple stride keeping pace with the two boys trotting hurriedly ahead of him. Some part of her was walking with him because of that strange, intimate look they had exchanged—a look that Cathie would rather forget, but its warmth was too fresh. Instead she turned to Clay, seeking his closeness to overshadow Rob's.

  "Don't you think this fireworks display is better than last year's?" Cathie asked as another golden shower of swirling spirals drifted downward.

  "You sound just like my aunt," Andy laughed before Clay could reply. "She says the same thing every year."

  "You know Cathie is just a small-town girl," Clay said to Andy in a definitely teasing tone. "The Fourth of July is the most exciting evening in her life outside of Christmas."

  "That doesn't speak very highly of you as my escort," Cathie retorted with impish humor, glad of the light-hearted conversation that diverted her thoughts from Rob.

  "Oh, look!" Andy exclaimed, her dark head directing their attention to the fireworks. "They're lighting the flag. That means the end to the fireworks for this year."

  All eyes turned to the large rectangular framework at the far end of the field. Like falling dominoes, the spark raced along the frame touching off white stripes, then red stripes, the field of blue and finally the stars. It was the finale, the close of the Fourth of July celebration until next year. As the flag display began spluttering out, the general exodus from the athletics field began.

  "Let's wait until the crowd clears out," Clay suggested. "It's cooler sitting here in the open than being stuck in the car waiting on traffic."

  In mute agreement the small group remained sprawled on their Indian blankets, chattering idly until Andy popped to her feet. "I know what let's do," she declared. "Let's all go to Black Hawk Lake and swim. It's a perfect night for it."

  "Sure," Dennis joined in. "My folks have a cabin there. We can have something to drink and everything. They won't mind."

  While the others were voicing their approval, Clay glanced at Cathie and quietly asked her opinion, "What do you think? Do you want to go?"

  "If the water were in front of me right now," she sighed, "I would probably go jump in it with my clothes on. It feels hotter now than when the sun was up."

  There was a flurry of voices as arrangements were made for swimming clothes to be picked up and a meeting place agreed on. In less than half an hour they were all back at the athletics field, the chosen meeting ground, with their swimming suits, towels and robes. But another member had joined their party, and Cathie felt a pinprick of doubt about the excursion as she gazed at Rob Douglas.

  Andy was standing next to her as the men debated whether to drive their own cars or ride together in just two. "Is he going with us?" Cathie asked, keeping her voice low so it wouldn't carry.

  "Who?" Andy's dark brows knitted together.

  "Rob Douglas."

  "Yes." A blank expression of surprise covered Andy's face at Cathie's unexpected question. "You don't have any objections, do you? As often as you have gone out to the farm to see him, you couldn't possibly still dislike the man. All the gossips in town are talking about it."

  "I went out to the farm to see Tad, not his father." A decidedly defensive note crept into her voice. "I couldn't care less whether he goes with us or not," Cathie lied, knowing she would be self-consciously aware of him. "He just wasn't here when we made the arrangements."

  "He came back later, I guess," Andy shrugged. "And you know Connie is still trying to get her hooks into him, so she was bound to invite him along. He doesn't seem too keen on her, though, not that I blame him. Outside of being beautiful, what has she got that I haven't? I wish I were a teacher like you, then I could talk to Rob about his son like you do. He might notice me then."

  Cathie was saved from commenting by Clay walking toward her. "We decided to each drive our own car," he told her. That was welcome news since she had been dreading the prospect of Rob and perhaps Connie riding with them.

  As the gathering broke up to get into their respective cars, Cathie couldn't keep her eyes from straying to Rob, only to color furiously when he glanced her way and nodded, the knowing light in his eyes mocking her irritation. Dennis and Andy led the small caravan in his car while Cathie and Clay brought up the rear. They rode in silence for several miles.

  "What are you so quiet about?" Clay finally asked, his hazel eyes turning their gaze from the road long enough to glance at Cathie. Her head was turned away from him so he could only see her honey-colored
hair.

  "I have a slight headache," she said, touching her temple to emphasize her words. "I don't know that I really feel like going swimming."

  "It's probably the heat," Clay said, brushing aside the problem. "Once you get in the water and cool off you'll feel better."

  "I doubt it," she replied caustically, directing her spite at Clay since Rob wasn't there. "With everybody splashing and yelling, it will probably get worse."

  "What's the matter with you lately?" Clay demanded. "You're constantly changing your mind. Two weeks ago you wouldn't go with me to visit my parents because you were singing in the choir at church. Then last Sunday, you took off to visit your parents. Earlier tonight you could hardly wait to go swimming, and now, not even an hour later, you don't want to go. This isn't like you, Cathie."

  How could she begin to explain to Clay what the source of her real problem was? How could she tell him that she wanted to avoid any contact with Rob Douglas? It was something she couldn't even explain to herself, except that ever since he came to this town, her world had been changing. Nothing was the same as it used to be as much as she tried to make it so. The slight drumming in her temples wasn't bothering her as much as the building tension at spending time with Rob Douglas.

  Cathie rubbed the back of her neck and stared into the black curtain of night outside the car windows. "I don't know why I'm so moody lately," she murmured, drawing a deep breath. "But you're probably right. Once I get in the water, my headache will more than likely go away."

  What else could she say? Any more protests about going swimming would have meant more questions, and if Clay asked more questions, he might just find out the truth. Besides it was silly, Cathie told herself, to let the presence of Rob dampen her evening.

 

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