by Diana Palmer
She glanced out toward the horizon. “Oh, yes, you certainly can. What kinds of boats are those way out there?”
“Take your pick—shrimp boats, fishing boats, trawlers, tugboats…. It’s a busy harbor,” Dirk commented. “The seafood here is super.”
“Something else we need to show her,” Gannon said between sips of his hot, creamy coffee, “is one of the hidden gardens.”
A flower-lover, her ears perked up. “Hidden gardens?”
“Little courtyards. Most of them are in private homes, but we have cousins here who love visitors. We’ll drive by before we leave the city,” Gannon told her. “I think you’ll be impressed.”
“I’m glad we didn’t bring Lorraine.” Dirk chuckled. “Every time she visits Maude and Katy, she wants to renovate the beach house.”
“Maude and Katy are spinsters,” Gannon continued. “Maude married, but her husband is dead, so she lives with Katy, who never married. They’re sisters.”
“You’ll like the furniture especially, I think,” Dirk added. “Most of it is mahogany. It came from the West Indies, where one of our ancestors made a fortune in shipping.”
“Indeed he did,” Gannon chuckled. “Raiding British ships. He was a pirate.”
“Now I know why Gannon’s so hard to get along with,” Dana told Dirk with a wicked grin. “It’s in his blood. I wonder how many people that pirate ancestor tossed overboard to feed hungry sharks?”
“Only one, as legends go,” Gannon said, his eyes twinkling as they stared straight ahead. “His wife,” he added on a low chuckle.
“Well, the old blackguard!” Dana exclaimed.
“He found her in his cabin with his first mate,” he whispered, “and tied them together and pushed them from the starboard deck into the ocean.”
She shivered. “What happened to him?”
“Nobody’s sure,” Gannon continued. “But at least one legend says that he went on to become a provincial governor in the West Indies.”
“Injustice,” Dana grumbled.
“That depends on your definition,” Gannon reminded her. “Those were different times; there were different codes of honor. In those days it was suicide for a woman to be adulterous.”
“And these days it’s more the ‘in’ thing than not,” Dirk nodded. “How times change.”
“Not always for the better,” Dana added. Her eyes widened as she saw the platters of seafood being brought by their waitress. “Food!” she exclaimed.
“I hope your appetite is up to it,” Dirk teased.
“If it isn’t, I’ll go home with my pockets full,” she returned, and was pleased to hear Gannon’s laughter mingling with his brother’s.
The happy mood lasted and seemed to increase when they reached the Victorian home of the sisters Van Bloom. Maude was tall and thin and Katy was short and dumpy, but they shared a love of people that went beyond their physical attributes.
Dana was amazed at the garden she saw when she walked through the black wrought-iron gate. The courtyard was floored with brick, and its size was about that of a medium-size living room. It was filled with flowers and potted shrubs and trees, and there was black wrought-iron furniture set near a small fountain positioned in front of a vine-covered wall. Dana could understand why Lorraine felt like redoing the beach house every time she came to the Van Blooms’. It made the most infrequent gardener’s fingers itch to recreate it.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Gannon said from behind her. “I remember it very well.”
“You may have appreciated it, my dear,” Maude said shortly, “but that woman you brought with you last time most certainly did not. Did you hear her, muttering about putting in a bar and a hot tub…!”
Dana turned, frowning, and Gannon looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“Layn likes modern surroundings, Aunt,” Gannon said curtly. “What kinds of flowers do you have in here?”
Maude hesitated before she let the subject of Gannon’s former girlfriend drop. “Azaleas, my dear,” she said. “Roses and sultanas and geraniums in shades of pink and red. I particularly like the red. How about you, Miss Steele?”
Dana sighed. “Oh, I just love them all,” she said with quiet enthusiasm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so lovely.”
“You might try one of your own. It isn’t so difficult,” Maude encouraged.
“The nurse’s home isn’t the best place, I’m afraid,” Dana said wryly.
“You’re a nurse?” Maude burst out. “Why, so am I. I practiced as an R.N. for over fifteen years before I retired. Come, my dear, let’s sit and discuss the changes over a pot of hot tea.”
It was a long time before the two women finished, and then suddenly the others had joined them and it was time to leave. Dana climbed into the front seat with Dirk, while Gannon sat alone and quiet in the backseat and turned his head in the direction of the charming old home with a feeling of loss.
“Isn’t it grand?” Dana sighed. “Are there many of those courtyards in Savannah?”
“More than you’d imagine,” Dirk replied. “There’s an active historical foundation here, with conscientious members who have a love of history and a sense of continuity. They’ve accomplished a lot, as you’ll notice when we go through the downtown area. General Oglethorpe planned for gardens when he laid out the grid pattern of the first streets in the city, you see. He even established a sort of public nursery. Savannah is famous for its public squares as well.”
“It’s a beautiful city. I wish we had more time to see it,” Dana said.
“We’ll come back again,” Dirk promised with a grin. “You’re the kind of girl I like to take sightseeing, Dana: you have such a natural enthusiasm for new things.”
“I love beauty, that’s all,” she replied. “Thank you for today, Dirk.”
“Today will be the first of many,” the younger man promised. “We’ll do this again.”
In the backseat, Gannon’s face grew darker and harder, and neither of the occupants of the front seat noticed that he wasn’t taking part in the conversation. Dana was lost in the memory of what she’d seen, and Dirk was capitalizing on her interest to freeze his brother out of the running. He liked what he saw in this soft-voiced wildflower, and he wasn’t planning to lose her to his freebooter of a brother. He was going to stake a claim while there was still time.
Dana, blissfully unaware of her companion’s dark thoughts, was chattering away about the garden without a care in the world. The gaiety lasted until they were back at the beach house and inside, until Gannon called sharply for her to join him in the study. And when the door closed, the beauty of the day went into a total eclipse with his harsh outburst.
“Your job,” he said without preamble, standing rigidly in the middle of the floor, “is to look after me, not to flirt with my brother.”
She froze at the door, staggered by the attack. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” he growled. “From now on there’ll be no more of that. While you work for me, you do it exclusively. I will not have my routine interrupted by these charming little outings with Dirk.”
“You came too,” she burst out. “And I’ll remind you that you only pay for my services, not my soul!”
“That,” he said, “is debatable. Keep away from Dirk.”
She drew herself up to her full height. “I will not,” she said shortly. “As long as he’s here I will show him the same politeness and courtesy that I show your mother. And if you don’t like that, fire me.”
“With pleasure. Pack your things and get out.”
She hadn’t been prepared for that. Wild thoughts whirled through her mind, the foremost among them being that she’d have to leave him, just when she was getting…used to him. But his face was as dark as thunder, and he had a look of a man who wouldn’t back down half an inch to save his life.
“If that’s what you want, Mr. van der Vere, I’ll be pleased to leave you alone with your bad temper.” She watched his rigid f
ace twitch, as if her ready reply had come as a surprise. She could hardly resist a faint smile as she opened the door and went out. She’d had the last word, at least. But what would become of him now?
She started up the staircase when Lorraine appeared at the top of it.
“There you are,” the older woman said with a smile. “What would you like for dinner? I’ve had the cook thaw some steaks—”
“I don’t think I’ll have time,” Dana said quietly. “I’m going up to pack.”
Lorraine paled. “But, my dear, you’re doing so well with him. Won’t you reconsider?”
“It’s not me,” Dana replied with a quiet smile. “I’d have stuck it out, but he just fired me.”
The other woman blinked. “Fired you? Why?”
“I was flirting outrageously with his brother,” was the amused reply. “Or so he said. I didn’t know I had it in me.”
Lorraine laughed softly. “Oh, my. It’s not funny in the least, and I’m not laughing at you. But considering the length of time you’ve known my other son…Poor Gannon.”
“Poor me,” Dirk said from behind Dana. “I gather that something’s afoot. Dana’s been fired, and I’m the culprit?”
“I was flirting with you,” Dana told him.
His eyebrows arched. “Were you? You might have told me about it; I didn’t even notice.”
“Dirk, do something,” Lorraine pleaded. “Gannon simply can’t fire Dana just when he’s gotten used to her!”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Dirk sighed, giving the study door a long, hesitant glance. “But don’t expect miracles.”
“I, for one, will not. I’m packing.” Dana started up the stairs. “Don’t worry, Mrs. van der Vere, I’ll find you someone tough to replace me—perhaps Mrs. Pibbs…?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of that big man on that adventure show I like on television—” Lorraine scowled “—the one who hires himself out as a bouncer in his spare time….”
Dana laughed softly. “Good luck.” She went on up the stairs and into her room, closing the door gently behind her. It was just beginning to sink in that she didn’t have a job or a place to go. Her job at the hospital had been filled out of necessity, and without it she couldn’t move back in with her roommate. She’d just joined the unemployed of the world, and all because her employer had some strange idea that she’d been making a play for his brother.
The more she thought about it, the madder she got. How dare he accuse her of chasing Dirk? It was just as well that she was leaving. Let him sit here and stew all alone; it seemed to be all he wanted from life. Let him wallow in self-pity and convince himself that he was blind forever, and see if she cared.
The problem was that she did care—very much. The thought of the big man sitting alone in that room without trying to help himself made her want to cry. Nobody else would last with him. And most nurses would just throw up their hands and walk out: They wouldn’t take the kind of abuse he handed out. She didn’t like to think of strangers doing the things for him that she did; even handing him his medicine and leading him around obstacles had become a part of her life that she didn’t want to surrender.
And she would keep remembering the way he’d kissed her…. It had been unethical, but so sweet. She’d felt necessary for the first time in her life—secure and protected and needed. All the color would go out of the world when she left this lonely house by the sea.
She started packing her few things with a heart that felt like lead. The sudden tap on her door interrupted her, and she went to answer it with a thudding pulse.
Dirk was standing just outside, his hands in his pockets and a disgusted look on his face.
“I’m afraid I made it worse,” he said apologetically, with a faint smile. “Not only wouldn’t he relent, he went right through the ceiling and ordered me out of the house.”
She sighed. She’d hoped…but what did it matter now? She returned the smile halfheartedly. “I’m sorry about that. He’s in a nasty mood. I only wish I knew what was wrong with him.”
“Are you quite sure you don’t?” he asked with quiet suspicion. “He’s very possessive about you. I haven’t seen him this way since his early days with Layn, before he found out what a barracuda she really was.”
Dana felt the blush work its way up into her hairline, and the fact that Dirk grinned wickedly didn’t help it to fade.
“So it’s like that,” he murmured. “No wonder he was so angry when you decided to go to Savannah with me.”
“It’s not like that,” she argued. “I’m his nurse. There is such a thing as ethics—”
“And such a thing as love,” he interrupted. “What does ethics have to do with that? He cares for you—surely you’ve noticed it?”
Her eyes closed briefly. “I’ve noticed that he’s…attached to me,” she corrected. “But you must remember that he’s blind—temporarily or not. It makes him feel vulnerable, and he doesn’t like it. What he thinks he feels for me may be nothing more than affection. I’m his anchor right now. If he regains his sight—and I’m convinced that he will—I will no more fit into his world than he will fit into mine.”
“That might have been true once,” Dirk agreed, “but he’s changing.”
That was true, he was, even if just faintly. But Dana was too wary to hope, and she said so.
“I still think that if you went downstairs and talked to him yourself, you might change his mind,” he added.
She laughed softly. “I don’t agree. And pride is my greatest fault; I’m not easily bent, you see.” She shrugged her slender shoulders. “It’s better this way. Mrs. van der Vere won’t find it very difficult to replace me….”
“And you won’t have risked an involvement, right?” he asked softly. “All right, it’s your life. But I think you’re making a big mistake.”
“As you said,” she reminded him quietly, “it is my life.”
He nodded. “Well, take care of yourself. Although it’s been brief, it’s been nice knowing you. We may meet again someday.”
She smiled. “It isn’t likely. But thank you anyway. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
She closed the door gently behind her and hated the quick tears that rushed into her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to face what she was beginning to feel for Gannon van der Vere, but Dirk had forced her to. Yes, it was a good thing that it would end there. Because when Gannon did regain his sight, the last thing he’d want or need in his life would be a quiet, scared little nurse with inhibitions. And she was wise enough to realize it.
All the same, she paced the floor for what seemed like hours after she’d bathed and dressed for bed and finished gathering all her belongings into her suitcase. Her eyes felt bloodshot; her heart felt sore, as if wounded. She knew it was pointless to go to bed; she couldn’t have slept.
The soft knock at the door seemed like a figment of her imagination, and she walked toward it like a daydreamer. Surely Dirk hadn’t come back to say goodbye again?
She caught the doorknob, turned it and found a taciturn, weary-eyed Gannon standing quietly in the hall. He was wearing wine-colored pajamas with a long matching robe, and his blond hair was badly rumpled, as if he’d tried desperately to sleep and couldn’t.
“Dana?” he asked softly.
Her heart jumped wildly at the sound of her name. “Yes?” she said in a taut tone.
He jammed his big hands into his pockets and leaned wearily against the wall, his eyes staring straight ahead. “Do you want to go?”
“Throwing the ball back into my court?” she mused. “Will it salve your pride if you can make me admit that I don’t?”
He shook his head. “But it might make it easier for me to sleep. I…don’t want to have to break in a new nurse now. I’ve gotten used to you. Warts and all,” he added coolly.
It was insane, she told herself, to let herself be talked into staying. It would be better for both of them if she folded her tent and stole quietly away
into his memory. But she looked at him and loved him; it was as simple as that. And the thought of leaving him became a nightmare.
“I’ll only stay,” she said firmly, “if you’ll stop accusing me of things I haven’t done with men I barely know.”
His jaw tautened; his eyes flashed. But he sighed and nodded. “Very well. As long as you don’t contemplate doing them,” he agreed.
“If you could see me,” she murmured, “just the thought of my flirting with a man would amuse you. I’m not even pretty.”
“You have a lovely voice,” he said, catching her by surprise. His fingers reached out and instinctively found her face, brushing lightly across her cheek and into her soft hair. His eyes closed in a scowl. “Don’t go, Dana. You’d take the color with you.”
“You’d very soon find someone to put it back,” she told him, moving away from the disturbing feel of his fingers. “But if you like, I’ll stay…a little longer.”
He grinned then, and all the lines seemed to fall out of his hard face. “Until I fire you again?”
She smiled. “Until you fire me again.”
“Get up early,” he said, moving away from the wall. “I find myself looking forward to those walks along the beach with you.”
“Yes…Gannon,” she whispered, watching his face change, soften, mellow.
He nodded. “Yes. That’s a start, at least. Good night, Dana.”
“Good night.”
He touched the wall until he reached his own room, and disappeared into the darkness. Dana stared after him quietly, surprised at the burst of joy she felt over what had happened. She didn’t have to leave him. She stepped back into her own room with a silent prayer of thanks. At least she had his company for a little longer. She’d live on it all her life.
He was scowling when she appeared downstairs for breakfast the next morning, and Lorraine looked just as uncomfortable.
“Good morning, dear,” she told Dana absently, chewing on her lower lip as she turned back to Gannon. “Are they sure? They could be mistaken again, since…”
“He said they aren’t,” he growled. He muttered a rough word under his breath and gripped his cup tightly in both hands. “I told you,” he said shortly. “I knew from the beginning that hysteria wouldn’t cause so much pain. They’ll find it now, too, since they’ve discovered what I knew all along.”