by Diana Palmer
“My God,” he whispered in a voice that barely carried to her ears.
She’d never seen Curry shaken, not in all the time she’d worked for him, but he was shaken now. It puzzled her. It even frightened her a little. Her hand clenched on the banister as all the hurtful things he’d said came flooding back all at once.
“Jim’s coming for me,” she said in a strained voice. “I…I’ll make up my time, later,” she added unsteadily, “but I’ve got to go somewhere….” She bit her lip to stem the tears rising in her eyes.
“Eleanor…” he began hesitantly. His eyes glittered over her again, like quicksilver. “I didn’t mean what I said to you,” he growled, as if the words came hard, and she knew they did. “God knows, I never meant to…Will you come in here and sit down? I’ve got to talk to you.”
She swallowed down the hurt in her throat. “There’s nothing left to say,” she whispered huskily. “You’ve already said it all.”
“It was you with Black last night, wasn’t it?” he asked suddenly. His eyes narrowed as they traced her young face. “I knew there was something familiar about that ramrod-straight little back, but I couldn’t place it. My God, why the camouflage all these years? What was it for, Jadebud?” he demanded.
She stiffened at the familiar nickname as she recalled what he’d told Jim last night. “What do you want, Mr. Matherson? Or is it just to…keep my efficiency up?” she added bitterly.
Realization clouded his eyes and he scowled. “You heard every damned word, didn’t you?”
“As you say, every damned word,” she bit off. “You might tell Mandy I appreciate her taking up for me. She’s better than you deserve.”
“No doubt,” he said quietly, and still he watched her, as if he’d never seen her before. “You never answered me. Why the disguise all this time?”
“You know what my mother was like,” she said bitterly. “I don’t have to remind you what she thought of painted women who flaunted their bodies. But last night was special, and Jim asked me to…I did it for him because…”
“Never mind,” he said curtly. “I can guess. So that’s why you’re going to work for him. The little girl’s got a crush,” he sneered, making it sound like a sin. “My God, he’s old enough to be your father!”
“You’re nearly old enough to be Amanda’s!” she returned fiercely.
“There’s a difference…”
“I’ll bet there is,” she retorted, her eyes contemptuous. “If I slept with Jim, there’d be a difference there, too.”
“You little tramp!”
She raised her hand and moved forward, but he caught her wrist in a steely grasp before she could connect with his firm, arrogant jaw.
Her pale eyes blazed at him like chips of Colombian emerald. “Don’t you ever call me that again,” she whispered furiously. “I may deserve some names, but I don’t deserve that one, and you keep your foul mouth to yourself, Mr. Matherson!”
His eyes flashed at the green glitter of her own, at the little figure so tense and battle-ready, defying him, and he almost smiled. “You little hellcat,” he breathed. “Do you really think you’re up to fighting me?”
Something in the way he said it, in the look he was bending down at her, made her go trembly inside.
“I…I’m not afraid of you and a dozen like you!” she said with false bravado.
His darkening eyes dropped to her mouth. “Yes, you are,” he murmured. “You were afraid of me the first day you came here. You still are.”
“Words don’t frighten me, Mr. Matherson,” she replied tightly.
“You aren’t afraid of anything I might say, or my temper,” he agreed. “But,” his voice dropped, low and caressing, “you’re terrified of me in a physical sense. Or didn’t you think I could feel you trembling, Eleanor?”
With a start, she realized that she was, and her cheeks blistered red. With a cry, she tore away from him, and he let her escape, standing there like some proud conqueror, confidence glittering out of his eyes as he pinned her with them.
What might have happened then, she never knew, because the sound of a car purring up the driveway claimed their attention. Eleanor turned and went quickly out the door with Curry right behind her. Jim got out of his big Buick and faced the taller man, his eyes blazing.
“I’m taking Norie out for the day,” he told Curry flatly. “If you’ve got any objections, I’ll be glad to listen.”
Curry glanced back. “I told you last night that I didn’t want you near this spread!” he said in a low, dangerous tone.
“Then I’ll send one of the hands after her from now on,” Jim replied, “but until she works out her notice, I’ll see her every damned day if I want to.”
“Then you’d better send one of your boys,” Curry replied hotly, “because I’ll have you shot if you drive through the gate!”
Eleanor gaped at her boss, barely able to believe what she’d just heard. She’d never seen Curry in such a temper before, nor had she ever heard him make an irrational threat.
“What’s the matter, Curry?” Jim probed sharply. “Jealous?”
Curry’s eyes caught fire and burned. Eleanor got in the car and slammed the door, her eyes pleading with Jim to let it go before something violent happened. She didn’t recognize Curry in this strange mood, and she was afraid of his unpredictability.
“Jim, let’s go, let’s go now, all right?” she pleaded softly.
With insolent slowness, he slid in beside her. She didn’t dare look at Curry as they drove away.
Halfway down the long driveway she breathed a sigh of relief. “I didn’t think I was going to get away with it for a minute there. I’ve never seen him like that!”
“Because he gets his own way most of the time,” he said tightly. “Not this time, though. Don’t let him put the pressure on you, Norie. He’s so damned underhanded, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“Curry’s not…”
“He’s dangerous,” he repeated. “I don’t think he’d ever hurt you physically, but we both know what his temper’s already done to you. Just take it slow and easy, all right? Don’t press your luck.”
Eleanor wasn’t sure that she believed him, but she nodded to be agreeable. She was too tired to argue.
“Norie,” he said gently, catching her eyes as she glanced toward him, “what did he say to you?”
She shifted uncomfortably and gazed out the window instead of looking at him. “Too much, and I’d rather not talk about it now, okay?”
“Sure, hon,” he agreed quietly. “If you’d rather not go back at all…”
“I would, but I gave my word, Jim.” She sighed. “I can’t go back on it, no matter how much I might like to. It’s not my way.”
“Stubborn little Texas mule,” he chuckled. “Tough as old boots, aren’t you?”
On the outside, at least, she thought, but she laughed anyway and saw the light come back into his grim face.
They rode around looking at crops for a while—it was one of Jim’s favorite pastimes, and Eleanor enjoyed the feel of the big car as it took the bumps almost imperceptibly. She felt good as she looked out at the green young cotton and peanuts scattered over miles and miles of flat land spreading out into the horizon. She loved this land, from its cities to its bastions of history. It was in her blood like a silver thread.
It was almost dark when Jim took her back to his ranch, the Rolling B, and ushered her into the sprawling one story frame house. His thirteen-year-old son, Jeff, was sitting at the kitchen table with Jim’s sister, Maude, who doubled as housekeeper and looked as if she could outdo any two men with her big frame and piercing dark eyes.
“About time you got back, we’ve been waiting supper,” Maude told Jim with a sly wink at Eleanor. “Sit down, both of you, and we’ll dig in.”
Jim sat down grimly and picked up his napkin. He said grace with a strange curtness and started to fill his plate with mashed potatoes, steak, green beans, tomato slices and fre
sh corn.
“Last time I saw him look like that,” Maude observed, “Ned King had outbid him for a black stallion he had his heart set on.”
“It’s my fault,” Eleanor explained. “I had an awful fight with Curry and he rescued me.”
“About time.” Maude grinned. “I’m proud of you.”
Eleanor blinked at her. “Why?” she asked bluntly.
“You’ve been letting that man walk all over you ever since I first met you. It’s time he found another carpet. That Amanda person ought to do nicely,” she added tartly.
“You had a fight with Curry?” Jeff asked excitedly, and Eleanor noted with a smile that he had his father’s dark eyes and prominent nose.
“I did,” Eleanor admitted.
The boy’s eyes widened. “Did you paste him one?”
“Jeff!” Maude scolded.
“Well, I just wanted to know, I never saw anybody hit Curry who didn’t end up with his nose rearranged.” Jeff laughed.
“Boys!” Maude burst out. She paused, peered curiously at Eleanor, and leaned forward. “Did you hit him?”
“No, but I tried to,” Eleanor admitted with a tiny grin.
“I wanted to hang one on him, myself,” Jim broke in, as he swallowed down a gulp of his iced tea. “Damned, hard-headed bull! He ordered me off the place and threatened to shoot me if I ever set foot on it again.”
Maude’s eyes popped. “Curry Matherson said that? The man’s sick! I’ve never known him to threaten anyone!”
“Oh, we’ve had our rivalries,” Jim admitted, “but it was always friendly until now. You know, I think he’s jealous of me taking Eleanor out. He acts like she’s his personal property.”
Eleanor blushed furiously. “He just hates not getting his own way,” she protested.
“You didn’t see the way he was looking at you when you got into my car,” Jim countered. “I did. I know that look in a man’s eyes, and I don’t like it in Curry’s. He’s too damned underhanded when he wants something, and right now, he’s got his mind set on keeping you. God only knows what he might do….”
“I can take care of myself,” Eleanor returned.
“Like Bambi,” Jim growled, and his big, dark eyes narrowed as they looked into hers. “Curry’s dangerous.”
“I promise you he won’t poison me,” she said with a half smile.
“Poison is the least of my worries. Norie, we’re friends, aren’t we? Then from one friend to another, get out while you can. Let me go get your bags….”
“Jim,” she said, stopping him midsentence. “You’re my friend, and I appreciate your concern. But I promised to work out a two week notice, and I’m going to do it if it kills me. I’m not afraid of Curry.”
“I’m afraid for you,” he persisted. “You’re just a babe in the woods.”
Her pale green eyes fixed on him. “You’re serious, aren’t you? But, Jim, you can’t possibly think…after all, he’s engaged to Amanda.”
“Curry? Engaged?” Maude broke in. “He must want that redheaded scarecrow pretty bad to marry her.”
“Watch what you say in front of the boy,” Jim growled.
“Why? He’s almost fourteen,” Maude replied, “and he probably already knows more than you want him to.”
“Curry’s fond of Mandy,” Eleanor said, taking up for the girl.
“But he doesn’t love her,” Maude came back hotly. “I’ve heard him say a hundred times that he’d never let any woman tangle up his heart the way his mother tangled his father’s. The old man killed himself when his wife divorced him, you know.”
Eleanor nodded, sipping at her tea. “It’s something he’s never talked about.”
“Probably because it hurt too bad. No, miss,” Maude said with set lips, “you’ll never see Curry in love with a woman. But if he wanted one bad enough and couldn’t get her any other way, he’d marry her. And don’t you think that redheaded hussy doesn’t know it! She’s got about as much place on a ranch as I have in Saks Fifth Avenue!”
“Doing what, scrubbing floors?” Jim teased. “By the way, did Anderson call me back about that auction over in Alabama?”
And with the shifting of conversation, Eleanor was able to sit back and relax and stop thinking about her incorrigible boss. For the time being, anyway. And she dreaded going back to the ranch more with every second that passed.
Four
She stayed at the ranch with Jim and his family until late, and when Jim suggested that they stop by the local disco for a drink, she was all eagerness.
The music was loud and throbbing and made her bones go weak. Around them people were laughing and enjoying themselves, and Eleanor felt some of their gaiety chasing her grimness away. She’d never had more than a sherry before, but she persuaded Jim, against his better judgment, to buy her her first whiskey sour. The strong taste and smell of it was dampening at first but she found that the more she drank of it, the better she liked it. Her face began to brighten up. Her muscles began to feel loose. And all at once, all her cares and worries dissolved into music and laughter.
By the time they left the bar, Eleanor was singing the “Yellow Rose of Texas” at the top of her lungs.
She was still going strong when they reached the ranch house. Jim pulled up in front of the two-story white structure, with its lights blazing ominously.
“Eleanor, I can’t let you go in there like this,” Jim said grimly.
“Sure you can!” she exclaimed with a hiccup and a smile. She struggled with the door handle and spilled out into the night with a little laugh. “Oh, I’m soooo relaxed!” she told him.
He got out, too, and, taking her arm, escorted her up the steps onto the porch, just as Curry came out the door. His silver eyes were blazing, his hair was rumpled by his restless fingers, his tie was off, his shirt was unbuttoned—he was the picture of impatient waiting.
“It’s about damned well time you got home,” he growled at Eleanor, who grinned at him.
“She wanted a whiskey sour,” Jim explained wearily. “I never should have…”
“Hell, no, you never should,” Curry cut at him. “Did you bring her straight here?”
Jim’s lips compressed. “One more remark like that and I’ll deck you!” he said flatly.
Curry reached out to take Eleanor by the arm. “I’ll have Bessie look after her,” he said. “Don’t let your engine get cold.”
Jim glared at him. “Lose your shotgun?” he challenged quietly.
Curry took a deep breath and his eyes narrowed. “We both know you got to her in a moment of weakness or she’d never have agreed to leave me. Don’t expect any favors. And I wouldn’t make any dates with her, she’s going to be damned busy for the next two weeks,” he added meaningfully.
“All the same,” Jim replied with a cool smile, “If she calls me to come after her, I’ll come, and you can damned well do your worst. Good night.”
Without a word, Curry pulled Eleanor into the house and slammed the door behind them.
Eleanor pulled weakly against the lean brown hand that was strangling her wrist as Curry dragged her up the stairs.
“Let me go!” she protested, coming out of the stupor the unfamiliar alcohol had caused.
“When I get you sober,” he agreed curtly. “You’re going to get a bath, little girl.”
“I had a bath already,” she replied haughtily.
“Not the kind you’re about to get. Bessie?” he called loudly. When there was no answer, he yelled louder, “Bessie!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming, I only have two legs and I’m using both of them as fast as I can!” Bessie grumbled as she ambled up the stairs behind them, finally catching up in Eleanor’s blue and white bedroom.
“Lord, what’s the matter with her?” she burst out, when she got the first look at the younger woman’s tousled hair and glazed eyes. “She don’t look like Eleanor. Where’s her glasses? Her clothes look…Are you sure that’s Eleanor?” she asked in a low, curious voice.
“Where’d you find her?”
“Crawling out of Jim Black’s car like a misbehaving pup,” Curry said gruffly. “Put her in a cold tub and get her sober,” he added with a malicious glance at Eleanor, who was hanging onto a bedpost for dear life and glaring at him.
“But the poor child will freeze!” Bessie protested.
“If you don’t do it,” he said with a flash of intent in his silvery eyes, “I will!”
“Of all the unconventional things!” Bessie caught Eleanor by the arms and shuffled her off toward the bathroom. “Come on, child, I’ll save you.”
“Couldn’t you save me,” Eleanor asked dizzily, “without the cold bath?”
Bessie only laughed. “You know Mr. Curry doesn’t make threats. Besides, it’ll all be over in just a few minutes and I’ll tuck you in and bring you some aspirin and a cup of nice, hot chocolate.”
“What,” Eleanor mumbled, as Bessie started unzipping the terry top, “do I need aspirins for?”
By the time Bessie got her numb body into a gown and into bed, she knew with painful clarity what the aspirins were for. Her head was throbbing and she felt vaguely nauseated just at the thought of the whiskey she’d put away. She knew without being told that she really was going to hate herself in the morning.
Curry came in just as Bessie went out, after leaving hot chocolate and aspirin by Eleanor’s bedside. He leaned nonchalantly against a bedpost to stare at the white-faced little ghost in the big bed, her black hair swirling untidily around her shoulders.
“Feel bad?” he chided with a straight face, but his silver eyes sparkled with amusement.
“I feel terrible,” she said in a whisper, managing to take a sip or two of hot chocolate. She felt dizzy, and sick, and her head pounded.
“How about another whiskey sour?” he asked.
She glared at him with narrowed green eyes. “I hate you,” she said levelly.
“Why? I didn’t get you drunk.”
“Neither did Jim, so don’t you blame him,” she told him.
“Why, baby?” he asked quietly.
She glanced up at his dark, somber face, and let her eyes fall to the white coverlet. “Do I need a reason?”