by Nancy Hopper
Brent rolled his eyes at Tim as she went back upstairs. "Yuck. How'd you get her to talk like that?" he drawled.
Tim chuckled. "Trust me, I am not responsible for that."
They heard the garage door open and close, and soon there was a clatter of feet on the stairs. Tim got up and went to open the door, and the air was promptly filled with shouts and outstretched arms.
"Tim, you old dog! Come here! You rascal, what have you been up to? Got your name plastered all over the papers, the mags, the telly, the works."
"Hey, Tim. Good to see ya, lad. Ya know, we were just passing by in the friendly skies and had a layover in this fine city, and we thought, why not? Serves him right for staying gone sa darn long, we'll just descend upon him, and go on home another time."
Tim laughed. "Great, Mike. Thank God, I have a gracious host. Come on in. James, Billy, it’s good to see you guys."
They all hugged him in turn and slapped his back soundly.
"This is my soon to be father-in-law, Brent Charles." Tim introduced them one by one, and they all shook Brent's hand with great enthusiasm.
"So ya'll be tying the knot for sure then, Timothy?" Mike asked incredulously. "My, it's been a stormy stand you've taken, I must say. Are ya sure it's the thing?"
"Absolutely." Tim challenged them all with stern eyes. "Wait until you meet her, you'll flip."
As if on cue, Tasha came down the stairs. Tim was ever so grateful to find her in a silk pantsuit of teal, very chaste yet elegant. She looked like a million bucks, he thought to himself. She'd done her hair, and put on some makeup. She looked like a perfect rose.
"Ah, here she comes." He chuckled. "Tasha," Tim greeted her, holding a hand out to her. "These are three of my very best friends. Michael Fitzsimmons; Billy Thorne; and James Burton. You'll be seeing quite a bit of these guys."
Tasha greeted them sweetly and openly. Tim was so proud of her, he was amazed to find he still had buttons on his shirt.
"Are you absolutely certain that you want to marry this guy?" Billy asked her in a conspiratory whisper. "There are probably a few things I should tell you, before you do anything rash. Maybe over dinner."
Tasha chuckled, and backed under Tim's protective arm. "Thank you so much, but I really wouldn't want to take any of the adventure out of my relationship with Timothy." She told him innocently. "It's been so much fun getting to know him. We just keep discovering all the wonderful things we love about one another, as things unfold."
"Ah, I see how it is. No chance you'd change your mind, then?" Mike sighed in a weary voice.
"No. This relationship has already been dearly paid for. But I am very flattered." She told them sweetly. "Why don't you take your things upstairs? Lucinda is up there making beds, she'll show you where to settle in."
The three of them obediently picked up their baggage, and trudged up the stairs.
"Oh, my." Tasha sighed, when she was sure they were out of hearing range.
"Yeah – well, I warned you." Tim grumbled.
"Are they gone?" Dana gasped breathlessly from the garage doorway.
"Yes! What in tarnation are you doing?" Brent laughed at her.
"Taking a breather!" she snorted. "Those two are awful! They were fighting over me, Timothy! Actually arguing about who was going to do this – and who was going to do that – as if I were some kind of video game you could rent, or take over, or ... ooh!"
Tim had to laugh. "They seem to keep getting more and more that way. You know, it was kind of funny when it started, one of those simple rivalry things; but watching it after being away for awhile, it kind of makes me concerned."
"I really did not enjoy it at all!" Dana complained, with fire blazing in her eyes. "They were pests! Everything they said was aimed at either impressing me, or getting me to go out with them, or whatever."
"What did James have to say?" Tim asked quietly.
"Well, he told them to shut up when he could see it was getting to me, and he made it stick. Other than that, he didn't say much of anything."
Tim smiled. "That still water runs real deep." He assured her. "Neither one of them would like to suffer his displeasure. I'm glad he was there."
"So, are these close friends, Tim?" Brent asked, urging Tim toward the dining room, with a hand on his shoulder.
"Yes. Very close, actually." Tim agreed. "Bill's on the executive boards of several missionary, evangelical and interdenominational organizations. He's a real politician. Mike is a something of a renegade Irish Catholic. He spent the seventies and eighties in Dublin, and found a new battlefield here in the States. He's been at the heart of the revival since it started. He's an incredible Evangelist.”
He smiled. "But James, now. James is a writer and musician."
"A songwriter?"
"Yes, but much more. He's done magazine articles, stories, books – you name it. He's one to watch. Not many people know about him, yet; but when the time comes, there's going to be an explosion. He is going to be an absolute sensation. I've never seen anyone who could express the things James can, through words and music."
Dana and Tasha smiled at Elaine as she joined them, and followed the men to the bar. Tasha grinned at Dana, finding the cooler stocked with Root beer and natural fruit drinks.
"Think I'll take a walk on the wild side." She growled, as she uncapped a bottle of Root beer.
"Don't get too comfortable, doll. You and I have a few things to take care of this afternoon." Tim reminded Tasha.
"Elaine and I have some business to discuss, as well." Brent added, daring Elaine to object, with just a look. "And Dana's had a killer morning at the airport. Do you think you can handle our three gentleman guests all right, if all of us abandon you?" Brent asked Dana solicitously.
Dana shrugged. "Sure. Just give me a weapon to defend myself with." She teased, with wide eyes.
"Lucinda can handle anything with her Chocolate Torte." Tim advised, with the voice of experience. "She'll be keeping a handle on things, never fear."
Dana sighed as they all went their various ways, and she found herself alone in front of the fire. She grabbed a cream colored, soft comforter, and curled up on the settee before the fire. She smiled with delight as snowflakes began feathering down outside. She picked up her book, and settled in for a long, quiet afternoon.
Billy was the first to find his way down the stairs, and he made a beeline for Dana.
"There you are! Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, after talking to you on the phone so many times. Are you enjoying your book?"
Dana smiled, put the book aside, and drew her feet closer under her when he joined her on the settee.
"You make a very pretty picture here, with the snow behind you and a comforter in your lap. Very cozy, and lovely. Do you read a lot?"
"Oh, depends on my mood. I take spells with it." She mused. "How about you?"
"Oh, no. Not really. I'm busy too much of the time. Say, Dana. How about showing me the town?" he persuaded, giving her a winning smile.
"Well, I wish I could; but you see, I don't know anything about Salt Lake. This is my first visit here, and ..."
"Well, then, we'll explore together." He decided firmly.
"Really, I am sorry, but I am expected to stay here and hostess. Besides, I was up very late, and I do just need some time to myself. I may even nap, awhile." She hinted gently.
"Well, we'll go to dinner, then." He again decided for them.
Dana couldn't help smiling. "Oh, I believe that Brent and Tim had something kind of special already planned for us, tonight."
Billy sighed, and looked out the window restlessly. "So, are the resorts open? Should be."
"Perhaps. I don't know." She answered patiently.
"Well, then it's strike three, I guess. Perhaps tomorrow." He suggested brightly. "Where is the kitchen, anyway?"
Dana sent him in Lucinda's direction, and picked up her novel again. The man wearied her, with his breezing in and out. What a busy one! He was good to look a
t, with his longer, wavy brown hair and gray eyes, but his mouth never stopped!
Mike was a green-eyed, auburn-haired fireball of a man. Tall, slim and intense with energy, Dana nearly groaned aloud when he showed up, practically on Billy's heels.
"Hello, Dana." He greeted her, and sat across from her with a crooked grin.
"Hello, Mike. All settled in?"
"Yes, thanks. Everything is lovely. Say, you're reading?"
"Yes. Fiction. Do you like to read?"
"Once in awhile. It's History or some such thing, when I do. Usually I'm in the middle of a mess instead, you know -- lobbying, or sending food and supplies to shelters. That sort of thing."
"That's wonderful. I'm sure it keeps you very busy."
"Oh, yes. But say; aren't you the lovely voice in Tim's office?"
Dana admitted it, with a shy smile.
"Well then, I feel as if I know you! Perhaps I could know you even better, after we've shared a cup or two downtown. Do you like Espresso?"
Dana smiled regretfully. "I'm afraid I really can't. It’s not easy to find coffee of any kind, in this town. Besides, that would be very upsetting to Billy – I just turned him down, you see. I really am very tired."
"Oh. Well, that is perfectly understandable." He said, with obvious disappointment.
"Lucinda can fix you whatever you'd like, in the kitchen." She suggested.
"Sure, thanks. I'll do that, then." He agreed, smiled his thanks, and went his way.
Dana smiled and raised her novel. "Two down." She grumbled, irritated that she'd become such a prized commodity in the household. She wasn't feeling very appreciative of masculine attention, just yet.
It wasn't long before the snow had muffled much of the street noise, and Dana's eyelids began to droop over her drowsy eyes. Her book slid to her lap unnoticed, and she unconsciously curled around until she was in the best position to catch all the warmth of the fire, and be completely covered by the afghan.
She made a lovely picture against the snowy window, with her slippers peeking out from under the blanket, and the firelight reflecting in her face.
She stirred, sensing eyes on her, but there was no one about. Then, aw shadow caught her eye at the top of the stairs. Was it a departing figure? She smiled, supposing she was fanciful, and let her eyes close again.
Tim found her sawing logs there several hours later, and slapped her leg gently. "Hey, roll out." He urged. "Look alive, Dana. Dinner's about on. You'd better get yourself dressed."
Dana groaned, and stretched. "All right." She agreed sleepily. A few minutes later, she came downstairs wearing a soft, pink cashmere sweater over a lavender shirt, and matching wool pants in a soft plaid of pink, blue and lavender. Her gray leather boots complimented the outfit beautifully.
Her makeup was in mauve and pink tones, and the effect against the sweep of her dark hair and blue eyes was so soft and feminine, that she had no problem commanding attention when she walked into the room. She was immediately the focus.
Brent winked at her conspiratorially as she passed, and greeted him. She greeted Tasha and Tim, and found her place at the dinner table.
It seemed that Tasha’s ideas for her wardrobe were going to be a smashing success.
Someone pushed in her chair for her as she sat down. She looked up and smiled, and found herself looking into deep, velvety brown eyes that were most intense and probing. She let her eyes fall from James Burton's deep eyes, to his full, sensitive lips. They did not smile.
"I'm afraid Lucinda has assigned us to be dinner partners. I hope you don't mind." He asked, quietly taking the chair to her right.
Dana's eyes softened at the humility so evident in his spirit. "I'm delighted, Mr. Burton." She assured him quietly. "I haven't had a chance to get to know you, yet. Did you get some rest this afternoon?"
"A bit." He admitted. "And I was glad to see that you did, also." He admitted, a corner of his mouth turning up.
Pink spots appeared in Dana's cheeks, and a strange flutter started in the pit of her stomach, at his words.
"I hope that my napping didn't keep you upstairs. I didn't mean to fall asleep." She apologized.
He smiled slightly. "No, no." He assured her. "I did exactly what I wanted to do, this afternoon."
From the intense scrutiny of his eyes upon hers, Dana couldn't help but wonder if one of his activities had been to stare at her from the top of the stairs. Deciding she was fanciful, and flattering herself, she smiled and steered the conversation back to safer waters.
"Tim tells me that you're a writer."
"Of sorts." He admitted.
"And a very gifted musician. What instruments do you play?"
James shrugged. "Piano. Guitar. Drums. Some horns. Kind of – whatever is needed at the moment."
"Don't tell me that you're one of those people who can play anything?" she accused.
James looked into her eyes with lazy scrutiny. "Some say so." He admitted.
Dana smiled. "Will you share some of your work with me sometime?" she asked gently.
He seemed a little embarrassed. "Sure." He agreed.
Dana smiled, and turned to her left to answer a question for Elaine. She didn't have an opportunity to speak with anyone again as Mike, Billy and Brent launched into a hot political debate. But, she was aware of James Burton's presence, and smiled gently at him whenever their eyes met.
He was different. Quiet, but strong. Humble, yet self-assured. He had strong, clean hands. His black hair was shiny, and soft-looking. His eyes were deeper than life. His lips were sensual when he curved them into a smile, and his cheekbones were set high. He was husky, but had a trim waist.
He was interesting. Very interesting. Intriguing, and a little bit mysterious. She found herself very curious about him. Tim spoke so highly of him, and of his work. She had no doubt that he was very good, indeed.
She found herself looking more than once at his hands, his arm beside her; his broad shoulders. The shadow of a heavy, black mustache and beard were appearing on his brown skin. His hands were strong, and capable -- very masculine. Yet, his fingers were slender and sensitive.
She could well imagine him playing the piano; composing beautiful music, writing magnificent works. She sensed depth and passion; light and darkness; joy and pain within his soul. This man felt to Dana, as if he had experienced life to its excruciating extremes. The longer they sat there, the more shy Dana felt with him. Soon, they were finished with the meal, but the argument among the three more vocal men, went on strong.
Finally, James cleared his throat, and stopped the debate cold. "If you will excuse us, I'd like to take Dana for a walk." He said quietly. He stood up, and held a hand to her. His eyes waited patiently, yet expectantly for her response.
She rose from the table, and put her hand into his almost timidly. She was certain that her cheeks were flaming, and that her trembling was visible to everyone. If James noticed, he said nothing.
The table seemed unnaturally quiet as they left. It was certainly true that everyone was staring after them. Mike and Billy were open-mouthed and wearing frowns of chagrin, given that James had so suddenly foiled their plans to occupy Dana for the evening. The rest of them wore veiled looks of amusement.
James' hand was extremely warm. He held hers firmly in his grasp until they reached the top of the stairs. "Make sure you wear something warm." He warned.
Dana smiled shyly, and slipped into her room. She then found herself in a nervous flutter. She put on her cashmere muffler and beret, put darker lipstick on, more dramatic eye shadow, her maroon wool coat, her gloves, her boots, took a glove off for perfume on the wrist, put the glove back on, and – oh, my! She thought. What was she doing? Why had she said yes? Why was she nervous? She sighed, realizing she was in a dither. She gathered her breath and wits, and opened her bedroom door.
James was waiting in the hallway, his eyes almost black in the dim light. He was wearing a long, black wool coat with leather trim, and a Stetson.
His longer, black hair curled over his collar very attractively. Dana smiled shyly, but couldn't for the life of her think of anything to say.
The snow had stopped falling, and the stars were shining brightly above them. Clouds scuttled through the night sky to the cadence of a light, whistling wind.
They walked in silence for a few blocks, before James turned his eyes and looked at her with intense appraisal. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and stared up at the stars above. Then, he smiled at Dana shyly, and she felt as if the sun had suddenly come out from behind a cloud. His teeth were very straight and white, and he somehow just glowed.
"Did you see their faces?" he chuckled. ”They just couldn't believe that I was snatching you right out from under their noses."
Dana smiled. "I'm quite sure they will have a quick recovery."
He shook his head. "I don't know about that." He argued quietly.
Dana wasn't sure what he meant, but the burning, intent look in his eyes caused her stomach to flutter. "Do you live near the resort, home in Jackson?" she asked softly.
"Yes." He answered simply.
"I'm surprised we've never met before, then. I ski there all the time."
He gave her a sharp look. "I've seen you around."
Dana found herself wondering if James ever had an idle thought, word, or look. "You have? Really? How did I miss meeting you, James? I'm certain I'd remember you."
He laughed mirthlessly. "You've been very busy with your friends, Dana. I ski with Tim, all the time. But that's all right. I knew my time would come, to get to know you. I've been waiting for you to be done with Rick Snyder." He added smoothly.
Dana's eyes flew to his, but she couldn't get a glimmer regarding his intent. "Did you? But you didn't tell Tim I was seeing him?"
James shrugged. "It didn't occur to me that you were hiding it from anybody. I didn't figure it was anyone's business. Although in retrospect, I wish I'd done something to trip him, long ago. I certainly felt like it. If I'd had a clue that he was trying to sneak around, I would have."
She shook her head, and rolled her eyes. "I was such a fool." She snapped. "Why couldn't I see the truth?"
James stopped, and put his hands on her shoulders. "Dana, here's the truth: any man with a real interest in you, is not going to need to sneak around. He will just make it very clear how he feels, and give you his best shot. But you know, I can't help looking at you now, and seeing that you really didn't love him all that much. I always suspected it was more an infatuation than the real thing."