Bittersweet Rain

by Sandra Brown

  Laura Jane screamed and scrambled to her feet. She flung herself toward the fighters, but Caroline grabbed her and pulled her out of the way. Steve’s instincts as a guerrilla fighter had been awakened and he came back at his attacker with a vengeance. When a well-aimed fist brought blood to Rink’s nose, Laura Jane screamed again and ran from the barn.

  “Stop it!” Caroline shouted. “Stop it, both of you.”

  Fists and feet were flying. They grappled against the stall, striking stunning blows at each other.

  Caroline rushed into the two-man melee and wedged herself between them. “Stop it now. Both of you. My God, have you both lost your minds?” At last she was standing between the two fighters, who were panting for breath and swabbing at bleeding cuts.

  When Rink had finally regained his breath, he glared malevolently at Steve. “I want you gone by noon.”

  “He stays.” Caroline turned her back on Steve and resolutely faced Rink. “He stays until I fire him. Roscoe told me to hire him and I’m the only one who can fire him. At least until the will is read and you take possession of The Retreat. In the meantime, as Roscoe’s widow, I make the decisions concerning the estate.”

  “Like hell you do,” Rink snarled. “This has to do with Laura Jane, not The Retreat. She may be your stepdaughter, but she’s my sister.”

  “I agree. This has everything to do with Laura Jane.” Caroline’s breasts were heaving with exertion and emotion. As she faced him defiantly, she loved him fiercely and ached for the bleeding bruises on his face. But she wouldn’t back down. “Steve wasn’t taking advantage of her. He was loving her, Rink. She wanted him to.”

  “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

  “Yes, she does. She loves him. Are you so hard-hearted and immune to human emotions that you can’t see what’s so plainly obvious? If you send Steve away, how do you think she’ll feel about you? You’re her god. She worships the very ground you walk on. It will destroy her if you break her heart by doing this. I beg you not to. Please.”

  “It’s for her own good.”

  “How do you know what’s best for her?”

  “I know.”

  “Just like Roscoe knew what was best for you? Would you keep them apart the way he did us?”

  Rink reacted as though she had landed a blow better placed and more dreadful than any of Steve’s. His eyes bored into hers, but she held her ground. Finally he sliced his eyes toward Steve, who was unconsciously rubbing his aching thigh. Rink glared at him but said nothing before he strode from the stable.

  All the life and spirit went out of Caroline then and her body sagged. She stood for a long time, staring at the hay-strewn floor through blurred eyes. She had backed Rink into a corner and he would hate her for it. Sighing, she raised her head and turned to Steve. His face was distorted with rapid swelling.

  “Will you be all right?”

  He nodded, dabbing at a disfigured lip with a handkerchief. “I’ve had worse.” He tried to smile but grimaced with pain.

  “I’ll send Haney out to tend to you.”

  He nodded and Caroline turned. When she reached the door of the stable he called out to her. “Mrs. Lancaster.” She faced him, and he took two limping steps toward her. “Thanks. No matter how it turns out, I appreciate your taking up for me.”

  She smiled wanly and headed toward the house. When she reluctantly went through the back door, Rink was sitting at the kitchen table holding Laura Jane on his lap. Her face was buried in his neck and she was crying uncontrollably. “You’re mad at me. I know you are.”

  “No,” he said gently, stroking her back. “I’m not mad. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you, that’s all.”

  “What Steve was doing wasn’t bad. I love him, Rink.”

  Rink’s eyes met Caroline’s over his sister’s head. “I’m not sure you know what it is to love a man, Laura Jane. Or what it means for him to love you.”

  “I do! I love Steve and he loves me. He would never do anything to hurt me.”

  Rink wasn’t going to concede that he had been wrong. “We’ll talk about it later. I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

  But Laura Jane wasn’t going to be placated, either. She raised her head and gripped Rink’s shirtfront. “You won’t fight with Steve anymore. Promise me you won’t.”

  Rink couldn’t hide his surprise. He stared into his sister’s determined eyes and finally said, “I promise I won’t fight with him anymore.”

  Slowly she released his shirt and sweetly kissed his cheek. “I’ll go help Haney find the bandages.” For Laura Jane the crisis was over. She left the kitchen and skipped up the stairs.

  “I won’t be leaving today after all,” Rink said in measured tones when they were alone.

  Caroline’s heart jumped with gladness, but it was a momentary reaction. Her chin went up defiantly. “What changed your mind? Are you afraid that in your absence I’ll corrupt your sister and ruin the family’s reputation?”

  He gave her body a deprecating, leisurely inspection before saying, “Something like that.”

  Her eyes smarted with unshed tears. He knew how to hurt her. “To you I’m still that white trash girl, aren’t I, Rink? I’m good enough to kiss when you feel like kissing, but not good enough to be a part of your family.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  That was all he said before he sauntered from the room.

  Chapter 9

  Morning, Miz Lancaster.”

  “Miz Lancaster, nice day, ain’t it?”

  Caroline acknowledged the greetings called to her as she entered the gin. Harvesttime was upon them. The men were already working overtime to handle the first crops brought in. The hours were long, the shifts tiresome, dusty, hot and noisy. Yet there was a spirit of pride among the gin workers that hadn’t existed for years. It was no secret where this feeling of unity came from.

  Rink.

  There was no denying that all the equipment, due to a recent overhaul, was operating in prime condition. Farmers who in seasons past had been seeking other spot markets for their cotton were returning to Lancaster Gin. There was no secret why that was so, either.

  Rink.

  In just the few weeks he had been around, the gin had undergone a radical change. Most of its employees had welcomed him back. Those who wanted to work hard were given a raise in pay. Those who were habitually late or shirked duty were fired. Caroline recognized those who had been fired as perpetual agitators. They were men Roscoe had employed for specialized jobs, jobs she surmised she was better off not knowing about. The one and only time she had suggested that Roscoe get rid of a certain employee, she had learned not to venture into the no-man’s-land of Roscoe’s private affairs.

  “He’s a troublemaker,” she had said.

  Roscoe had smiled benignly. “He does… errands… for me, Caroline. If he makes trouble with one of the gin workers, do me a favor and look the other way.”

  “But he’s a gin worker, too.”

  “That’s the way it’s supposed to look.”At her disbelieving expression he had diplomatically added, “I’ll speak to him if he causes you any more problems.”

  She realized now that such a man must have been sent to spy on Rink that summer.

  Rink, with her sanction, hadn’t wasted a minute cutting off the dead wood and raising the salaries of trusted, loyal workers. They respected him. Rather than working for Rink out of fear, as they had his father, they stayed on because they liked the man. He had a knack for motivating them. He criticized constructively. He praised when it was deserved. He worked and sweat right along with them. It was no wonder to her that he was such a successful businessman.

  Ten days had gone by since the eruption in the stable between Steve and Rink. Rink spent most of his time at the gin. Caroline loved having him there. He gave her confidence. She knew that a few of the men had been fired because of their criticism of her.

  Though they hadn’t specifically laid down the terms, a peaceful tr
uce existed between the two of them.

  One morning at the gin she was working on the endless stream of business correspondence when he entered the office without knocking. “Caroline, there’s someone out here I’d like you to meet if you’re not busy.”

  She smiled up at him and spread her arms wide over her littered desk. “Oh, no, I’m not busy.”

  He grinned lopsidedly. “It’s important or I wouldn’t have interrupted you.”

  Standing, she asked curiously, “Who is it?”

  “A surprise.”

  With his fingers riding lightly on the small of her back, he ushered her through the teeming gin and out onto a loading dock where five-hundred-pound bales of cotton awaited delivery to the warehouse.

  A rotund man in a startling white suit and Panama hat—he looked like he belonged in a Tennessee Williams play—was pinching samples of cotton off the bales and stretching them between his thumbs and fingers. He was chomping on a cigar that fleetingly and unpleasantly reminded Caroline of Roscoe. But there was nothing of Roscoe’s dominating personality in the man who looked up and smiled congenially when he saw her coming toward him with Rink.

  “Mr. Zachary Hamilton, this is Mrs. Caroline Lancaster.”

  “Mr. Hamilton.” She extended her hand. It was swallowed by his and heartily shaken. Had she ever known a grandfather, she would have wanted him to look like Mr. Hamilton.

  “It’s a pure pleasure to meet you, Miz Lancaster. A pure pleasure. Your… uh… er… stepson, Rink, here, was telling me that under your careful management Lancaster cotton has improved considerably.”

  Her cheeks flushed becomingly as she glanced first at Rink, then back to their guest. “Rink is giving me more than my due, I think. But I’m proud of the product we’re producing now.”

  “Mr. Hamilton is a buyer for the Delta Mills in Jackson.”

  Caroline was looking at Rink, so only he saw the instantaneous lift of her eyebrows and the small circle of surprise her mouth formed. His eyes were dancing mischievously. It was with difficulty that he didn’t burst out laughing.

  “I… I see,” she stuttered and turned back to the cotton merchant. Everyone in the South who grew cotton or sold it knew about the Delta Mills. They supplied the world with textiles of the highest quality.

  “We’d be privileged to have you sample our cotton, Mr. Hamilton,” she said as calmly as she could. She was beside herself with nerves and excitement. Adrenaline had begun to pump through her. If she and Rink could sell to Delta Mills, it would be a business coup.

  “Thanks to Rink’s hospitality, I’ve been sampling it.” He pinched off a wad of cotton from the bale and began the stretching process until he could determine the average length of the fibers. “This is prime cotton,” he said musingly. “Has a good staple length. I think you could sell us some.”

  Both Caroline and Rink had to force themselves not to whoop with glee. “We’ve got a lot already committed to other buyers,” Rink said with shrewd evasiveness.

  “I can appreciate that, Rink,” the buyer said. “How many compressed bales can you sell me?”

  As Caroline stood by, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other, Rink bargained with the man. Finally they settled on the number of bales to be delivered and the price per bale. It was the best deal Lancaster Gin had ever made.

  “Of course, we’ll be delivering the cotton by air,” Rink said offhandedly as he escorted Mr. Hamilton to Caroline’s office to sign a contract.

  “By air?” Mr. Hamilton stared up at Rink in awe. But he was far less astounded than Caroline.

  “A service we provide only for our most preferred customers.” Rink’s teeth flashed whitely and when Mr. Hamilton turned to go into the office, he winked at a stunned and speechless Caroline.

  After Mr. Hamilton had left, she was still staring at Rink with dismay. “By air?” she asked in a thin, high voice. “Whatever happened to the railroad?”

  He laughed and began opening desk and file cabinet drawers in a mad rush to find something. “Nothing happened to it,” he said absently. “Ah-ha! I knew it had to be here.” He pulled a bottle of bourbon from the bottom drawer of a file cabinet. “Got any glasses? Oh, to hell with glasses.” He uncapped the bottle, threw his head back and took a long pull from the bottle. He made a face as the burning liquor went down. “I’ve got an old freight airplane that I’ve reconditioned myself. We want to impress Delta Mills, don’t we? Do you think they’ll forget the company that delivered their cotton by air?”

  “But the fuel costs alone… Rink, it’ll be incredibly expensive.”

  “Not if I load the cargo and fly it myself,” he said, flashing her a broad grin. “It’ll cost us fuel and a few hours of my time. But a standing contract with Delta Mills will be well worth the investment, I think. To us.” He saluted her with the bottle before taking another swig of the bourbon, then pushed it toward her. “Here.”

  Caught up in the spirit of his celebration now, she eyed the bottle, tempted. “I couldn’t,” she said with false coyness and glanced nervously over her shoulder toward the door.

  “Of course you could.”

  “What if someone comes in and finds us drinking?”

  “They’d understand. We just pulled off a helluva deal. Besides I’ve put the word out that no one comes through that door without knocking.”

  “You do it all the time.”

  He assumed an annoyed stance. “Are you going to drink some of this or not?”

  Boldly, she took hold of the bottleneck and, imitating him, threw back her head and took a large swallow. She came up coughing and sputtering, her eyes tearing and her insides flaming. Rink took the bottle from her as she bent at the waist to cough. He thumped her back with his open palm, laughing uproariously.

  “Better?” Slowly she straightened, drying her weeping eyes with the backs of her hands.

  “I think so,” she croaked and they both laughed at the unfamiliar hoarseness of her voice.

  “God, Caroline. My heart was in my throat,” he said with boyish enthusiasm. “I was so afraid he was going to say no or leave us hanging without a firm commitment.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”

  “I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t. I loved the surprise.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes.” She smiled up at him and her smile widened when she realized again what they were celebrating. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  It was unplanned. Entirely unplanned. He caught her about the waist, lifted her several inches off the floor and whirled her around. They were both laughing. His head was thrown back as he looked up at her. She smiled down on him from her elevated position and put her hands on his shoulders.

  “We did it! We pulled off the best deal ever in Lancaster history. Do you realize what that means, Caroline? New buyers will come snooping around. Planters will check us out,” he said, answering for her. “Not this year, but next. We may have to expand.” He held her, spinning her around in an impromptu waltz.

  When he set her down it seemed perfectly natural for him to kiss her. His mouth met hers firmly and squarely. It wasn’t a lover’s kiss. It was a kiss between friends, a celebration of a job well done.

  But the instant their lips made contact, that changed. They couldn’t touch without it being the touch of lovers. When he felt the soft, moist acceptance of her lips beneath his, desire shot through him like lightning. He raised his head to judge her reaction.

  His eyes greedily toured her face, taking in every feature. The high color in her cheeks, her auburn hair, the sparkles that made her eyes look like glistening raindrops on slate, her mouth, all caught his attention.

  She waited expectantly, feeling his breath accelerate, watching his eyes grow hot.

  He wanted her. God, he wanted her. He wanted to devour her, to make her his finally and everlastingly. But she had pledged faithfulness to his father till death parted them. And Rink knew that dead as
his father was, his influence reached beyond the grave. She still belonged to Roscoe and for that reason he wouldn’t take what he longed for so badly. Desire smothered him, yet he clawed free of it and released her.

  He didn’t want to. First his hands moved from the back of her waist to the sides, then fell away completely. As though an invisible adhesive held them together, their bodies pulled apart slowly before he took a severing step backward. Last to release her were his eyes, which stayed on hers until he forced them away.

  She was disappointed and shaken but tried not to show it as he turned back to her before opening the door.

  “I thought I’d invite the whole crew out for a beer in celebration. It’ll be an incentive for them to produce the cleanest cotton possible for the Delta Mills.”

  “I think that would be a wonderful gesture, Rink. I’ll see you at home?”

  He nodded. “I won’t be late.”

  It was at the supermarket that she got her first inkling that people were talking.

  Haney had called the gin and asked if Caroline would stop at the store on her way home. Caroline made a list of items as Haney reeled them off. “Thanks. I’ll appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” Caroline said. “I’ll be home shortly. Rink is going out after work, so you might want to plan dinner a half hour later than usual.”

  She was pushing her grocery basket down the aisle, checking off the things on her list when she spotted two townswomen eyeing her with undisguised interest. She recognized them. One was touted to be the most malicious gossip in town. She had a daughter the same age as Caroline, who was now married to a factory worker. It was said that because of a drinking problem, he had difficulty keeping a job. The daughter had been popular, one of the “in crowd” from which Caroline had always been excluded. How it must rankle that the Dawson girl had married so well! The other woman ran the dry cleaning store and dealt out gossip with each exchange of dirty clothes to clean.

  There was no avoiding them, though Caroline wished she could. Her chin went up a notch and she deliberately steered her basket so she would have to pass right in front of them.