Wild Honey

by Veronica Sattler

  “Hmm,” she mused as she pondered the crisp white envelopes on the desk. “Hmm…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  TRAVIS RAN HIS GAZE approvingly over Sarah’s elegantly clad figure as he held the car door open for her. “You look gorgeous, Pumpkin. Reckon I’ll be real busy this evenin’.”

  “Thanks,” she replied as she got in. “Uh, busy?”

  He grinned as he shut the door and came around. “Yup, fightin’ off all those eager beavers you’re gonna attract.”

  “Travis McLean, don’t you dare!” It was part of a longstanding feud between them. When they’d been younger, their mother had assigned Travis and Troy the duty of protecting Sarah from overeager beaux at various functions. Both had complied, but Travis had been impossible. As a result, Sarah had frequently gone with no male company at all. “Mother-r-r,” she’d wail, “he’s my brother, not my keeper!”

  He chuckled as he started the car, but the mirth soon faded. They were on their way to Jill and David’s wedding. With Sarah as his invited guest, he was going at the specific request of the bride, who’d practically begged him to come, and to bring his sister.

  “You’re not only my nephew’s father,” she’d said when he sounded reluctant, “you’re a friend. Besides, David wants you there, too. And Matt’ll be ecstatic. Uh, not that I’ve told him you’re invited—just in case something happens and you can’t make it.” She’d explained about their policy of not getting Matt’s hopes up in advance, to avoid disappointment if things fell through. “So please don’t mention it to the squirt, okay?”

  He’d agreed to that readily enough, but had pressed her about Randi’s feelings regarding the invitation.

  “It’s my wedding, Travis,” Jill had replied. “How could she possibly argue with me about who I choose to have as guests?”

  “I don’t know, Jill. She might go along for your sake, but—”

  “Travis,” she’d interrupted, “just how much do you care about my sister? Do you want to be with her or don’t you?”

  “If she’d have me,” he’d told her solemnly, “I’d marry her tomorrow. I love her, Jill. These past weeks’ve been hell.”

  “Then why haven’t you been beating a path to her door? You don’t strike me as a guy who gives up easily. You’ve made an effort to see Matt, but not Randi. Why?”

  He decided not to mention the encounter in the hospital parking garage; nothing had been resolved there, anyhow. “I figured she needed time, Jill, to sort things out, digest what’s been happenin’ with us. And…maybe I needed time myself. Your sister, uh, left me with a few things to think about.” Your sister and my brother, Troy.

  In the end, he’d been persuaded to attend. Maybe because he’d been encouraged by the way Randi had looked when he left her with those final words that night in the garage; maybe she was ready to see him now. He’d also reasoned that Jill had to believe this, or she’d never have included him. Maybe Randi’s counseling sessions had begun to pay off.

  Maybe. And with Randi gaining some insights into her feelings, and with the insights he’d gained about himself, maybe, just maybe, they had a chance.

  RANDI STOOD in the reception line, unable to believe what was happening. Pain lodged in her chest, and her throat burned. Dear God. Travis—here! But why? How? A new wave of pain hit—the smile Jill just tossed him said she’d invited him! It hurt almost as much as seeing Travis this way—with another woman on his arm.

  A stunning little brunette with huge green eyes and debutante written all over her. Her dress was a designer original if ever she’d seen one; she and Jill had spent too much time studying designer gowns for the wedding for Randi not to recognize the look. How could he?

  Her lips tightened as she sought to contain a surge of pain. Damn you, Travis! You said you’d never hurt me. That you’d protect me. Damn you to hell!

  Travis caught the anguish in Randi’s eyes before her face hardened into an angry mask. She hadn’t known he’d be here! O1’ Jill had pulled a fast one—on both of them! He heaved a sigh. A big mistake. He should have questioned Jill more carefully about whether Randi was in on this. Now he was stuck playing a part he hadn’t been sure, he wanted in the first place. Poets and fools…

  The line moved Sarah and him along until he faced the bride and groom, with the maid of honor just a few feet away. “You’re a beautiful bride,” he told Jill. “Every happiness, darlin’—even if you are a sneaky devil,” he added sotto voce. He kissed her cheek, then shook David’s hand and congratulated him.

  “I’d like you both to meet my guest,” he added as Sarah smiled at the happy couple. “This is Sarah, my sister.”

  Randi’s head swung in their direction at the mention of the woman’s surname.

  McLean? God in heaven, he’s…he’s married! Disbelief warred with shock and nausea. This was a nightmare; she was dreaming, and any second now, she’d awaken and find everything back to normal.

  But the nightmare went on. Travis and Sarah McLean were moving toward her now, and she was expected to paste a smile on her face and…God, Jill, why? Why put me through this?

  But maybe Jill didn’t know…about the wife, anyway. Tears threatening, she braced herself, wondering how she could endure this. But Matt was a few feet away, and she couldn’t break down in front of him. For Matt, then. For Matt, you can do this!

  She stood there, dazed, as he moved toward her.

  “Hello, Randi,” Travis said carefully. “I’d like you to meet my sister, Sarah. Sarah, this is—”

  “Travis!” Matt’s voice rang out from the end of the reception line. “I didn’t know you were comin’!”

  Randi watched as her son broke rank and ran toward his father. Then Sarah smiled and extended a gloved hand. “I’m so happy to meet you, Randi. Although Travis has told me so much about you I almost feel I already have.”

  Still feeling foolish, and limp with relief, Randi managed to smile back. “You can’t possibly know how happy I am, too.”

  “Hey, Mom, can we go get some food now? I’m starvin’!” Matt was at eye level, grinning unashamedly at her from the vantage point of his father’s arms. He indicated the rest of the guests, who’d already passed through the reception line. “Everybody’s done shakin’ hands, y’know.”

  Randi chuckled, blushing as she felt Travis’s gaze on her.

  “Almost, sweetheart,” she told Matt. “There’s just one more hand to shake.”

  She turned to Sarah and smiled. “Sarah, I’d like you to meet my son, Matthew. Matt, this is Travis’s sister.” And I’ve never uttered gladder words!

  Travis set Matt down to shake hands with his aunt. He glanced at Randi, but she was avoiding his eyes. He swung his gaze to Jill, but the bride merely shrugged at him and grinned. The little traitor! He was on his own.

  His gaze returned to Randi, and his face softened. On his own? Not if he could help it. He’d had his fill of being alone. He needed a woman to share his life. This woman.

  Now all he had to do was convince her.

  WITH A GRACIOUSNESS acquired from birth, Travis endured the elegant reception that followed. He smiled and chatted with fellow guests as toasts were proposed, as a sumptuous banquet was consumed, as the dancing began, led by the happy couple. Yet his eyes rarely left the maid of honor. Randi, resplendent in a gown of bronze silk.

  He’d decided to make the best of the situation. Since he was here, he’d try to talk to her, see how things stood. When the wedding rituals wound down, maybe he’d find a chance.

  Randi, meanwhile, was trying to find a moment to talk to the bride alone—not easy, with all of them in the spotlight. But she had no intention of letting Jill off the hook where a certain surprise guest was concerned. What had gotten into her? After their heart-to-heart that night especially, Jill should have realized how awkward this would be for her.

  And someday Jill the pill and she were going to have a talk about just who was doing the controlling around here! It was ironic really.
Here she was, trying to work past her own need to control, when she found herself the object of controlling efforts by others. People she loved!

  A frown knit her brow. Everyone engaged in controlling behavior to some extent, Carol had said. Only when it became an overruling compulsion was it a problem.

  “Um, something wrong, pipsqueak?”

  She heaved a sigh and turned to face her sister, who’d just finished a photo session with David and his side of the family. “You might’ve warned me, Jill.”

  There was no need to mention what—or whom—they were discussing. “You know you’d have gone ballistic on me,” Jill said.

  “Agreed, but still…”

  “You did tell me you felt you’d blown it with him, didn’t you? And that you didn’t have the guts, I think you said, to reach out to him, right?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Oh, Randi, please don’t be upset with me, even if you’ve a perfect right to be. Don’t you see? I reached out for you. I mean, I know it was sneaky and underhanded, but I gambled you trusted me enough not to hate me too much for—”

  “Jill, the idea! I could never hate you.”

  Jill grinned at her. “Well, all right, then. So, uh, how about thanking me? Playing Cupid’s hard work, you know?”

  Randi gave her head a shake, lapsing into a helpless chuckle. “You stinker! Okay, thanks…I think.”

  “Whew! One down and one to go.”

  “Huh?”

  It was Jill’s turn to blush. “Well, I’m afraid you weren’t the only one I, uh, kept in the dark about a certain invitation.”

  “Oh, no! You mean, Travis came here thinking I knew he’d been invit—”

  “Um, guilty as charged.”

  “Jill Terhune, how could you!”

  “Uh, shouldn’t you be callin’ her Jill Brooks now?”

  “Travis!” Jill exclaimed as they both whirled to face him. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

  “Do tell.” With a wink for Randi, he glared at Jill, spoiling the effect with a lopsided grin. “I mean, I can’t imagine why.”

  “Now, now, no need for sarcasm,” Jill told him breezily. “Don’t you know it’s bad form to make the bride squirm?”

  “Huh, I could talk up some other stuff that’s bad form. Since when are brides s’posed to be so sneaky?”

  Jill made a face at him. It demolished any remaining tension in the air, and all three of them chuckled.

  “Well, that’s more like it,” Jill declared. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed them each by the hand and headed for the French doors leading to a veranda.

  “Jill, for Pete’s sake!” Randi protested, but found herself fighting a giggle; Jill had a bee in her bonnet, judging from the look on her face, a look she remembered well from their childhood. “What’s this all about?”

  “Yeah,” Travis demanded as the bride dragged them beyond range of several curious wedding guests, “what gives?”

  “Okay, you two,” said Jill, “listen up. There’s a couple of beautifully wrapped wedding gifts sitting amid the pile that arrived back at the house—one from each of you—and I know David and I are gonna love ‘em, so thank you.”

  “Uh, you’re welcome,” Travis murmured, whereas Randi merely gave her a look that asked if she’d flipped.

  “Now it’s my turn,” Jill went on. “You see, I’d like to give the pair of you a gift.”

  Randi and Travis glanced at each other, but said nothing, eyeing Jill with considerable bemusement.

  “Now, you can tell me if I’m way out of line with this,” Jill said, “but it seems to me the two of you need some time together to talk in private. But you’re both so darn busy circling each other, not wanting to make a move, you won’t do it on your own. So I’m doing it for you.”

  “What do you mean?” Randi asked warily.

  “I mean, if you and Travis would like to leave here, right now, and find a place to have that talk, just say so. I’ve only gotta make a phone call to Matt’s baby-sitter, who’s on standby to sit with him for the entire length of our honeymoon, if necessary, so his mom’s free to do this.”

  Mentally crossing her fingers, Jill heaved a sigh and sent them each a look that pleaded for agreement with the idea. “Now, am I all wet, or will you accept this gift?”

  Travis wanted to agree at once, but he glanced at Randi and hesitated, concerned about her, the last thing they needed was for her to feel squeezed, pushed into doing something she wasn’t ready for. He hid a sardonic smile; there was a time, he mused wryly, when he would have pushed without a second’s hesitation. He was learning.

  “Huh,” Randi groused, “put that way, sister mine, it’s an offer we can’t refuse.” But she was smiling as she said it. Smiling, because there suddenly wasn’t a doubt in her mind that they should do this. It felt as though something inside her had broken free. The old Randi—heck, the Randi of even a week ago—would have hedged or refused outright; she’d have been afraid—of herself, of Travis, of being alone with him. Of wanting to talk to him, but not knowing how.

  But the woman who stood here now was remembering a moment when she’d wanted to reach out and couldn’t—You’re that important to me, Randi. You ‘n’ Matt. Remembering and knowing, thanks to the sister who loved her, that she’d been given the rarest of gifts: another chance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  TRAVIS TOOTED the horn, and Randi waved to Matt as Travis backed the Alpha out of her driveway. There was no mistaking the grin on Matt’s face, Randi thought, as he stood on the stoop and waved back. She wondered which was more responsible for it, his delight that she was back in Travis’s company, or the company Matt himself was keeping tonight.

  Sandwiched between Mrs. Casey, his favorite sitter, and pretty Sarah McLean, Matt looked like the cat who’d stolen the cream. He and Travis’s sister had gotten on like a house on fire at the reception. When Matt learned he’d be home with the sitter this evening, he’d asked if he could invite Sarah. It seemed his “good buddy,” as he called her, just loved a certain magenta dinosaur, and he wanted to show her a “Barney” episode Randi had taped for him. After checking by phone with Mrs. Casey, Randi had been persuaded to agree to the invitation; Sarah had been delighted to accept.

  “Your sister’s awfully good with children,” she said as Travis fiddled with the car radio. As if by unspoken mutual consent, this sort of safe neutral comment had characterized their conversation since they’d accepted Jill’s gift. But deep inside, where her emotions stood teetering on a precipice, Randi felt a keen-edged tension; she was as nervous and uncertain as she was hopeful. But she beat it back. Time enough for the heavy stuff when they reached their destination.

  “It’s hard to believe,” she went on, thankful her voice held none of this anxiety, “how Matt’s taken to her. It’s as if they’ve known each other for years.”

  She had to admit she’d taken to Sarah herself, though perhaps that shouldn’t surprise her; bright, pert and energetic, the youngest McLean reminded her of Travis in everything but looks. Reminded her of Matt, too.

  “Oh, Sarah’s crazy ‘bout kids.” Travis adjusted the radio’s volume, and soft classical music sifted into the car. “Matter of fact, all of us McLean brats are. Sarah’s done loads of baby-sittin’, ‘n’ I spent five terrific summers as a camp counselor in a program for inner-city kids. Meantime, brother Troy’s been runnin’ tennis clinics for sprouts at the Y far back as I can remember.” He shrugged. “None of it payed much, but we sure loved the work.”

  “You mean you all worked at these things for pay?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. The clan may be well-heeled, but that cut no ice with my mother where her kids were concerned. She firmly believed in teachin’ us the value of a dollar. But more importantly, of work itself. We never received an allowance, but there were always opportunities to earn a buck, even when we were little guys.”

  He chuckled. “Once, when I was Matt’s age, I was paid a pe
nny for every weed I pulled from the garden. ‘Course, I had to learn to distinguish ‘em from Mother’s prize dahlias, as I recall. Mr. Tibbs was real fussy ‘bout that.”

  “Mr. Tibbs?”

  “Uh, the gardener?”

  “Oh, of course. Silly me.”

  He darted a glance at her. “Is there a problem there, Randi? I mean, with my family’s, uh, life-style?” That was all he needed, he thought with an inner groan. Her being uncomfortable with his background, on top of all the other uneasiness he caused her. Lord, wasn’t it time for some of the breaks to go his way?

  “Um, not a problem exactly,” she hedged, “but I do recall being a bit…overwhelmed when I first saw your yacht.”

  He cut her another glance. “Okay, maybe I’m bein’ a mite dense here but, Randi, if you’re uncomfortable with it, why’d you select the Sarah Anne for this, uh, talk tonight?”

  He’d been mystified when he asked where she wanted to go to indulge in Jill’s insightful offer and she’d chosen the yacht; it had to hold unpleasant associations for her. Still, bent on accommodating her, he’d agreed without comment; as he’d already told her, she was in the driver’s seat. He was done controlling in the name of love.

  “Randi?” he prompted when she didn’t answer.

  But Randi suddenly couldn’t speak; in truth, she found it hard to breathe. A surge of emotion tumbled over the precipice and gripped her without mercy. His question had strayed beyond neutral territory, but it wasn’t what held her frozen; no, this was something she couldn’t anticipate, something beyond her control. And therefore devastating.

  The Liebestraum playing on the radio, soared sweetly. Without warning, the lilting chords wrapped themselves around her, returning her to that summer night at sea, when a dream might have come true, but didn’t. Her pulse leapt as time melted away, and memory conjured magic, the magic that had claimed her mind and body when she’d heard the piece last.