by Nora Roberts
“Opening up?” Because it hurt him to look at them now, he turned away from the flowers. “Breaking free?”
“Yes. I didn’t know how dissatisfied I was—especially with myself.”
“That may be.” Candace swept back in. Her jaw was set, her eyes angry. “But you had no reason to be rude. Your father and I, and your grandmother, are only trying to help you through a difficult time.”
“I think,” Kelsey said slowly, “the problem is that this isn’t as difficult for me as you think.”
“Then you might think of others. About how Philip feels. About how all of this looks to outsiders.”
“Candace,” Philip said, “this isn’t necessary.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Maybe you’re right, Candace. I’m very much concerned how Dad feels. I’m sorry, but I don’t have your sensibility about what outsiders think. I don’t want to embarrass you,” she continued, “or cause problems between the two of you.”
“Yet you encouraged Channing to deceive me and stay at that place.”
Boggy ground, Kelsey thought, and cursed Channing for leading her onto it. “I encouraged him to stay, yes.”
“Now he has some notion about going back there, working there this summer.” Flushed with emotion, Candace gripped the back of a chair. “She might have lured you away, Kelsey, but I won’t have her corrupting Channing.”
“Good God.” At wits’ end, Kelsey dragged her hands through her hair. “Where does this come from? You haven’t even met the woman, but you’ve cast her as some B-movie siren who seduces young boys and destroys all she touches. She didn’t open her home to Channing to corrupt him or to spite any of you. She did it for me. And she offered him the job because he showed an interest in the farm.”
“Well, I won’t have it.” Candace detested sounding shrewish, resented the fact that Kelsey’s stubbornness made her so. “I won’t have my son loitering around racetracks and associating with gamblers and a convicted murderer.”
Kelsey dropped her hands. “That’s certainly between you and Channing.”
“Yes, it is. It’s quite true I have no right to tell you what to do.” Her lips quivered. She’d done her best by Kelsey, her very best to be a friend, a guiding force instead of the textbook stepmother. And now, it seemed, she’d failed. “Even if I did, you’d continue to do as you choose. As you’ve always done.”
Philip stepped forward, as perplexed as he was hurt by the outburst. “Candace, we’re losing the perspective here. It’s only a club dance.”
“I’m sorry, Philip.” Her angry embarrassment over the scene with Milicent pushed her forward. Milicent was more than her mother-in-law. She was her friend, and her ally. “I feel I must have my say in this. It’s much more than a dance. It’s a matter of loyalty, and proper behavior. This situation cannot go on. You’ve hurt your father enough by choosing Naomi over him.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” She whirled on her father. “Is that what you think? Can’t you believe that I’m capable of caring for both of you? Of learning to accept, and forgive?”
“You’ve nothing to forgive Philip for,” Candace put in staunchly. “He did everything that was right.”
“I did what I thought best,” he murmured. “This is difficult for me, Kelsey. I can’t tell you it isn’t. But I still want what’s best for you.”
“I’m trying to find out what that is. Or, if not what’s best, at least what’s right. I don’t want to hurt you in the process.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” Candace said wearily. She’d never really understood her stepdaughter. Why should that change now? “The problem here, Kelsey, is the same as it’s always been. You look straight ahead toward a goal and don’t notice the consequences of achieving it. And when you have it, you don’t always want it.”
The thumbnail analysis stung more than any whip of anger. “Which makes me cold and shallow.” Her voice trembled no matter how she fought to control it. “It’s not the first time that’s been pointed out to me, so it’s hard to argue.”
“That’s not true.” Philip took her by the shoulders. “And certainly not what Candace meant. You’re strong-minded, Kelsey, and you can be stubborn. Those are virtues as well as flaws.”
Candace took a mental step in retreat. She knew from experience her preferences would never hold against a united front. “We’re concerned about you, Kelsey. If I criticized too harshly, it’s only because of that concern, and the fact that the situation is becoming difficult for everyone. The recent publicity has stirred up old memories. People are beginning to talk, and that puts your father in a delicate position.”
“Two men were killed.” Steadier, Kelsey stepped back. “I had no control over that, nor do I have any over the gossip it generates.”
“Two men were killed,” Philip repeated. “Can you expect us not to worry?”
“No. I can only tell you it had nothing to do with me, or Three Willows. Violence happens everywhere. The racing world isn’t a hive of vice and debauchery. There’s no time or energy for either when you’re up at dawn every morning. It’s work. Hard work. Some of it tedious, some of it exciting, and all of it, to me, rewarding. There’s no partying every night with champagne and mobsters. Hell, most nights we’re sound asleep before ten. I’ve watched foals being born and seen grown men sing a sick horse to sleep at night. It’s not a Disney movie, but it’s no orgy of sin, either.”
Philip said nothing. He knew he’d lost. It might have been Naomi standing there, defending a world he had never understood, and could never belong to.
“I’m sure it has its merits.” Candace tried for calm. “I’ve watched the Kentucky Derby myself on television, and there’s no denying the horses are magnificent, the entire event exciting. Why, the Hanahans had an interest in a racehorse a few years ago. You remember, Philip. We’re not condemning the entire . . . profession”—she supposed it was called—“we’re concerned about your associations. You did say you were involved with a gambler.”
Kelsey let out a huff of breath. “I said that to needle Grandmother. What I should have said was that I’m interested in a man who owns a neighboring farm. I’m sorry I caused trouble. Now I’ll apologize in advance because I’m about to cause more. I’m not renewing the lease on my apartment. I’m going to stay on at Three Willows, at least for the time being. I may look for a house later in the year, but I’m going to keep working at the farm.”
Candace put a hand on Philip’s arm, a gesture of support and unity. “No matter what the consequences?”
“I’ll do my best to minimize them. I realize you won’t want to visit me there, so I’ll come to you as often as I can. I’ll be out of town for a while, but I’ll call.” She picked up her purse and twisted the strap in her hands. “I don’t want to lose you, either of you.”
“You can’t. This will always be your home.” As Philip gathered his daughter close, Candace said nothing.
It seemed to take longer to drive back. A sobering interlude where Kelsey wavered between tears and anger. Most of the anger died by the time she pulled up at Three Willows. It left too much room for hurt.
She turned from the front door. She didn’t want to go inside just yet and face Naomi. Certainly it would be poor form to discuss with her what had been said about her and the world she lived in. Better, Kelsey decided, to get over it first. To just sit with the fading daffodils and blooming dogwoods until the inner storm passed.
She lost her chance for solitude when Gabe stepped onto the patio.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh. I thought you’d gone.”
He joined her on the narrow stone bench that looked out over early pinks and columbine. “I’m not leaving until tonight.” He’d wanted to see her again. A simple-enough reason to juggle his plans. Taking her chin in his hand, he had a good look. She’d been crying. Both that and the fact that it unnerved him came as a surprise.
“What’s wrong?”
&n
bsp; She shook her head, shifted away. “Do you spend much time on self-reflection?”
“Not if I can avoid it.”
“It’s hard to do that when your faults are held up in front of you like a mirror. You look at them, and you see yourself.”
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and kept his voice light. “Who’s been mean to you, baby? I’ll go beat him up.”
With a half laugh she nuzzled against him, then drew away. “I’m not a nice person, Gabe. And I hardly ever think about trying to be. It used to surprise me when someone would tell me I was spoiled or stubborn or single-minded. And I could say to myself, that’s not true. I’m just doing what seems right to me.”
Restless, she rose, leaving him on the bench while she took a few steps along the bricked path that wound through the infant flowers. “When Wade said I was cold and self-absorbed, rigid, unforgiving, all those things, I could rationalize that he’d said it to justify his own adultery. I wasn’t hot enough in bed, so he found someone who was. I wasn’t sympathetic enough, interested enough in his career; someone else was. I refused to overlook the fact that I’d found him cozied up with another woman. If I was too rigid to understand his physical needs, well, that was my problem. I’ve never had any trouble tossing the baby out with the bathwater. Break a marriage vow? The marriage is over, and that’s that. Well, I am rigid.”
She spun back, ready to dare him to disagree. “There’s right and there’s wrong. There’s truth and there are lies. There’s law and there’s crime. Take seat belts.”
Cautious, he nodded. “All right. Take seat belts.”
“Maybe before it was passed into law I’d forget to use mine. You’re busy, you’re in a hurry, you’re just going down the block. Why bother? But the minute the law was passed, Kelsey straps herself in. Every time, no question.”
“And you figure that makes you rigid.”
“Before they passed the law it was just as stupid not to use them. The law didn’t change the basic common sense. But I could ignore common sense, never the law. Well, speed limits,” she admitted. “But whenever I overlooked them, I rationalized it. If I went to Atlanta to try to fix my marriage, if I knew something was wrong with it and I was willing to make the effort to work on it, why wasn’t I willing to forgive what I found there? Because he’d made a promise. He’d taken a vow, and he’d broken it. That was enough for me.”
Gabe rubbed a hand over his chin. “Do you want me to tell you that you were wrong to dump the bastard, Kelsey? I can’t, for two reasons. One, I agree with you, and two, I want you myself. I can say that if it had been you and me, and I’d walked in on you cozied up with another guy, he’d be dead and you’d be sorry. Does that help any?”
She closed her eyes, scrubbed both hands over her face. “How did I get into all of this?”
“My guess is you’ve had a rough morning. Where’ve you been?”
“I went to see my father.” She wanted to cry again, ridiculously, and turned away until she had the tears fought back. “I wanted to tell him, face-to-face, that I was giving up my apartment and staying on here. At least for now.”
“So, he gave you a hard time.”
“No, not really. Not him. He’s the kindest man in the world. I’m hurting him.” She let the tears come now. The hell with them. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to make him unhappy, but I just can’t bend enough, not enough to make it all right for everyone.”
He didn’t say anything, but simply rose and gathered her close. He never battled words against tears. It was best to let them flow until they ran clean.
“This is stupid.” Sniffling, she searched her pocket for a tissue, then took the bandanna Gabe offered. “This whole thing started over a stupid dance, the Derby, and the dentist.”
“Why don’t we sit down again and you can decode that for me?”
“It’s tradition,” she said, and plopped down on the bench again. “And living up to family expectations. I’m not going to claim that my childhood was fraught with peril, but there’s always been the Byden name to live up to, especially where my grandmother’s concerned.”
She balled the bandanna in her hand, wished she could ball her anger and resentments with it and heave it away. “She’s still miffed at me for divorcing Wade, putting that blot on the family honor. Needless to say, she’s furious about my being here.” Struggling to lighten her own mood, she forced a smile. “I have been, in the best gothic tradition, cut out of her will.”
“Well . . .” He picked up her hand and toyed with her fingers. “You can always move in with me. Be a kept woman. That ought to show her.”
“Christ, I’d have my name expunged from the family Bible for that.”
When he realized he’d been only half joking, he released her hand. “Can’t have that, can we? So, what about the dance, the Derby, and the dentist?”
“Sounds like the title of a very bad play.” Trying to relax, she lifted her hair off her neck and shoulders, then let it fall again. “When I went to see Dad, I had the bonus of Grandmother and Candace, my stepmother, eating cucumber sandwiches and planning the floral arrangements for the spring ball at the country club. Which they fully expected me to attend. They’d even arranged for my escort, since I’ve refused to date since I walked out on Wade. They’d—”
“Hold it.” He held up a hand. “For my personal interest, run that last part by me again. About not dating.”
“I haven’t gone out with anyone in two years. Partly because until the divorce was final, it felt wrong, and partly, mostly because I didn’t want to. Sex has never been a driving force in my life.”
He picked up her hand again, kissed it. “We can fix that.”
“I’m trying to explain.” She tugged on her hand, found it firmly caught in his, and gave up. “The dentist, an oral surgeon, is the son of friends who’s recently relocated to D.C. He meets all the Byden standards. You, by the way, don’t.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Let’s go back to my place and celebrate.”
“You’re making me feel better. I wasn’t ready to feel better.” Smiling, she laid her head against his shoulder. “Anyway, I had to tell them not only that I wasn’t interested in Doctor Acceptable, but that I wouldn’t make it to the spring ball at all. It’s the first Saturday in May.”
“The Derby. Now all the pieces fall into place.”
“Yes, the Derby. That started a row, a fairly civilized one initially, but Grandmother was getting under my skin. So”—she gazed slyly at him from under her lashes—“I told her I was involved with a gambler, just to piss her off.”
“You’ve got a nasty streak.” He caught her face in his hand and kissed her hard before she could decide to evade or not. “I like it.”
“They didn’t. Grandmother stormed out, my father looked devastated, and Candace was so angry. We’ve butted heads before, but this time she aimed low. And she hit the mark. The longer I stay here, the more it disturbs the family. And since I’m too rigid to bend, I won’t look for a compromise.”
“Sometimes there isn’t any compromise.”
“Nice people find them.”
A delicate situation, he thought, studying the young geraniums in the patio pots. A family situation, and he had very little experience with family.
“Did it ever occur to you that your family isn’t looking for a compromise either?” He watched as she turned her face slowly to his. “All or nothing. Isn’t that basically how they’ve put it?”
“I . . . hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“No, because you’re so cold, you’re so rigid, you’re so hard that you’ve automatically taken all the blame for it. They can toss out the guilt, threaten to disinherit you, tell you how selfish you are, but it’s all your fault?”
To her knowledge no one had ever taken her side against the family. Certainly not Wade. It had always been she who’d caused the scenes, ruffled the feathers. Strange that it had never passed through her m
ind that their side of issues was as unyielding as her own.
“I’m doing what I want, regardless—”
“Regardless of what?” he demanded. Perhaps he’d never had a family to shelter him, but neither had he had one to lock him in with guilt and obligation. “Regardless of the fact that some people have to make adjustments? If you trotted off to your dance with the designated dentist, would it make any difference?”
“No,” she said after a long moment. “It would just postpone the next scene.”
“Are you staying here to spite them?”
“Of course not.” Insulted, she snapped her head back. “Of course not,” she said again, this time more subdued. “This must seem awfully foolish to you. All of this chaos over propriety and tradition.”
“I just figure you’ve beaten yourself up long enough over who you are and what you want. Feeling better?”
“Much.” She let out a big, cleansing sigh. “I’m glad you were still around, Slater.”
“I wanted to see you again before I left.” His fingers slid over the nape of her neck, teasing out chills. “You’re screwing up my schedule, Kelsey.”
“Oh?” She kept her eyes on the hands she’d folded in her lap.
“I’m starting to think about you before my eyes are open in the morning. I figure there are three times when a man’s most vulnerable. When he’s drunk, when he’s lost himself in sex, and at that instant right before he wakes up. I don’t drink and I haven’t had any interest in sex with another woman since I saw you. But you’ve caught me in that one instant when the defenses are down.”
She’d had men recite poetry to her who hadn’t stirred her so deeply. Emotionally, romantically, sexually. She’d lifted her gaze to his as he’d spoken, drawn by that soft, alluring voice. Now she was caught. Now she was defenseless.
“I’m afraid of you.” She’d had no idea she’d felt it, much less that she’d been about to say it.
“Good, that makes us even.”
He framed her face, slowly combing her hair back with his fingers, drawing out the moment so that they would both remember. Birdsong, spring flowers, the slant of the afternoon sun. Then the jolt of mouth against mouth, the quick leap of a heart, the long, slow moan of mutual pleasure.