Ben grabbed the woman in a bear hug, completely screening her from Juliana's horrified gaze. "Damn it, Lil," he said explosively. "You might at least have let me know you were coming."
10
Juliana sprang to her feet, tugging the sheet up beneath her arms. She had to get out of here. Moving stealthily, she turned toward the doorway. With her second step her foot came down on the dragging tail of fabric, all but ripping the sheet from her hands.
"Looks as if I've come at a bad time."
Lillian's amused tone made Juliana's entire scalp prickle and she stood with bowed head, caught. Doomed. She heard their voices; they were having fun at her expense, all right.
"If I'm not mistaken, that's Juliana Malone I see trying to skulk out of here."
"Naw. Juliana wouldn't skulk. She'd run."
Sheepishly, Juliana turned, hoisting the sheet up with both hands. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and dredged up her most sparkling smile. "Lillian! What a surprise."
Lillian burst into great peals of laughter. She was a large-boned woman, broad shouldered and substantial, like her brother. Gray streaked her blond hair, and her face radiated good humor.
"Hi, hon." She crossed the room and gave Juliana a hug that knocked the sheet askew once more. "Fancy meeting you here."
Juliana gave a self-conscious little laugh. "That goes double for me." Her flustered glance took in brother and sister. "If you two will excuse me, I'll just go slip into something a little more… more."
"Does that mean you won't be spending the night?"
Ben's blunt question stopped her in her tracks. She groaned and gave him an offended glance over one shoulder. Beside him, Lillian raised her eyebrows in spurious innocence.
Cheeks burning, Juliana sailed from the room. She returned ten minutes later, blue silk shirt neatly tucked into tailored white slacks. At her entrance, Ben and Lillian glanced up from their conversation at the table.
"Look," Juliana began uncomfortably, "I'll just go on home and let the two of you talk."
Lillian smiled. "Don't be silly. Sit down here with us." She patted a chair. "I'm sorry I teased you, but you looked so… teasable. This may shock you, but people in Santa Barbara fool around once in a while, too, so I do know about such things."
Juliana slipped into the indicated chair. "I'm new at this," she confessed. "I guess I'm just too old-fashioned to take discovery in stride."
Lillian patted Juliana's shoulder. "Ben's new at it, too," she confided in a richly indulgent voice. "Nothing on earth could have made me happier than not finding my brother alone."
"Nothing except a speedy exit from the avocado business and a big fat check." Ben sounded bitter.
Lillian's good humor slipped away. "I said I'd go along with you as long as I can," she said bluntly. "But the bills on this place were piling up even before Mother died, and there hasn't been a nickel of profit since."
"I sold $36,000 worth of avocados last month," Ben shot back.
"Yes, and used it against $75,000 in bills," Lillian retorted.
"Mind if we talk about this later?"
Lillian's lips tightened. "It won't change anything. I don't want to fight you on this, but I can't afford an expensive hobby and neither can you." She stood up. "Look, my eyes are killing me. I've got to get these contacts out before I go blind. I'll be right back."
Juliana and Ben sat quietly until Lillian had gone off toward the bathroom. Then Juliana sighed. "I'm sorry." She reached across the table and touched his hand. "Anything I can do to help?"
He gave her a harrow-eyed glance. "You're not offering to find a buyer, are you?"
"No!" She slapped his hand lightly. She hesitated; she had the perfect solution, if he'd just be reasonable. "I'm offering you a loan," she said tentatively.
He stiffened and his blue eyes darkened. "No chance." He snarled the words. "There are names for men who accept money from women."
"Yes—husbands!" It just popped out. She stared at him, aghast. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
His tense face relaxed a little. "The hell you didn't." He lifted her hand to his mouth. "You suggesting I marry you for your money?"
"Certainly not." She strove for indignation, but settled for breathless anticipation as he lifted her arm until his lips could press against the pulse throbbing in her wrist.
His eyes teased her. "But you did mention the word husband."
"I was just being funny." His lips slipped down to the inner curve of her elbow and she choked on the last word.
"Funny ha-ha or funny strange?" He kissed his way up her arm to her shoulder.
"Funny wonderful." She shivered as he leaned toward her. He blew in her ear and she groaned with pleasure, then darted an anxious glance toward the door through which his sister had disappeared. "Could we talk about this later?" She closed her eyes and sighed.
"Nope." He nibbled on her ear. "If you ever mention the word 'loan' to me again it'll be the end of a beautiful relationship."
"That's right." Lillian's voice intruded. She stood in the doorway, grinning. "He can be had, but he can't be bought."
Juliana hauled back against Ben's grip, but he hung on. He gave his sister a crooked grin. "I sure am glad you dropped by, Lil. When you leaving?"
Lillian made a face at him. "Tomorrow or the next day. Will you kindly fetch in my overnight case from the car?" She added to Juliana, "My husband's all tied up with inventory at his hardware store so I decided to come down on the spur of the moment."
Juliana watched Ben throw the door wide and walk outside. In the few seconds it was open, Freeloader streaked between his ankles and into the room. Ben didn't seem to notice as he let the screen slam closed. But Lillian did.
"What an adorable kitten!" She leaned over and rubbed her thumb and fingers together lightly, trying to entice the animal to her. "Kitty-kitty-kitty."
Freeloader arched his back coyly, gave her a haughty glance and hot-footed it through the room and down the hall.
Lillian straightened, her expression puzzled. "I don't believe it."
"What?"
"That Ben's got a cat." Lillian turned eyes almost as blue as her brother's on Juliana. "Something that depends on him...Ben used to thrive on responsibility, but not since his wife and son died,"
"He… he doesn't say much about that."
"He wouldn't. He felt responsible, although of course he wasn't. He thought he'd failed in his duty to his family, his job, even to society. He didn't figure he was worth the powder and lead it'd take to blow him to hell—his words, not mine."
Juliana's heart constricted. "I wish I'd been there," she whispered, realizing even as she said it that there could have been nothing between them then, especially not understanding.
"No you don't." Lillian looked grim. "He went down the tubes—for two years he did everything short of drugs. He'd been a cop too long—he couldn't do drugs even to punish himself. But he—" She shook her head and drew a quivering breath. "I shouldn't be talking like this. I guess it's just that…at the moment, I feel more optimistic about my brother than I have in a long time."
Juliana lifted her brows in question. "Because he has a cat?"
Lillian nodded. "And a woman."
The screen door slammed and Juliana started. Ben entered, carrying a flight bag and a couple of plastic grocery sacks. "You imported food from Santa Barbara? Hey, we got supermarkets down here and everything."
"Last time I was here, you were eating avocados for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I wasn't taking any chances." Lillian rose and took the plastic bags from him.
Juliana also stood up. "I've really got to be going," she said. "I hope I see you again before you leave, Lillian."
"Me, too."
Ben dropped Lillian's bag on the floor and reached for Juliana's hand. "C'm'on, I'll walk you to the car."
He held the door, then winked jauntily at his sister before following Juliana out.
Ben and Lillian sat up late that nigh
t, drinking cup after cup of coffee and talking. They had always been close, despite the ten-year age difference—perhaps because of it, Ben sometimes thought. In some ways Lillian was more mother than sister, but she was also a trusted friend.
Tonight, though, she was a business partner, and as such deserved the unvarnished truth. So Ben gave it to her.
"You remember that stretch of hot weather we had in April? Four hundred-degree days in a row… Fruit dropped like hailstones. Opal says I lost about thirty percent of my crop, but that's not even the worst of it. The new buds were coming in and it hurt them, too."
Lillian gave an exasperated snort. "And you still think you can make a go of this place?"
"Yes, if I have a decent crop in August. And that'll happen, if we don't get any real bad Santa Anas, and if I can hold the irrigation system together and if—"
"I get the picture." She got up and refilled her cup from the pot on the stove. "I'd think you'd want to sell and get out from under all that."
He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. "I don't, and especially not to that bastard."
"Your lady friend works for that 'bastard,' as you call him."
"Don't remind me. The guy dangles big commissions in front of her and she salivates like one of Pavlov's dogs. Or did. She says she's changed."
"And you believe her?" Lillian's brows arched.
He sat there for a minute, thinking about that. Finally he said simply, "Yes." He sighed. "Life'd sure be simpler if I could just sell off a few acres, but Goddard's got the valley so tied up that there's no chance of that."
"You or him, huh, with Juliana in the middle. Not a very comfortable place to be."
Ben frowned. "I never thought of it that way."
Lillian nodded. "Knowing she was handling the sale before Mom died, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I walked in here and found the two of you together in a delightfully compromising situation."
Remembering Juliana's discomfiture, Ben laughed. "You could have knocked her over with a feather, too. She's still having a hard time adjusting."
Lillian gave him an assessing glance. "I'm about to overstep the bounds of good sisterhood," she announced. "Ben, do you really care for her or is this just a…a fling?"
The question didn't surprise him in the slightest; what surprised him was the ease with which he could answer if. "Flings aren't my thing, Lil."
"Then we're talking Serious Relationship?"
"Maybe."
"That's an awfully big step for you." She looked at him, love shining in her eyes. "I've prayed for this day. Are you hesitating because of Melanie?"
He waited for the familiar shaft of pain that the mention of his dead wife always brought. It did not come. Instead, he felt sadness, and a simple, healing regret for what could not be changed. "I'm not hesitating," he said. "I've asked Juliana to move in here with me, but she hasn't made up her mind." He shifted restlessly. "It's late. You about ready to hit the hay?"
Her steady gaze made him want to squirm. "Something else is bothering you. What is it?"
He felt cold all over, and he shivered before he could catch himself. "Nothing," he said. "Plenty. I'm not sure I'm being fair to her. She had brain surgery a few months ago, for Christ's sake. You don't get over something like that overnight. She thinks she's feeling love, but what if it's gratitude, or simply insecurity?"
He lunged to his feet, fists clenching at his sides. "I'm going to bed," he said. He left her sitting there alone.
Juliana clutched the telephone receiver until her knuckles whitened, forcing herself to remain calm. "But Cary, it doesn't make sense," she argued. "I know we have a contract, but I'll tell you flat out that Ben won't sell to you and I'm through trying to get him to change his mind."
"Ah, so you have been trying."
"I meant before. I tried to get him to change his mind before, but not anymore. I can't work for you any longer, Cary. I'll return all fees and commissions, but I won't honor the buyer-broker agreement."
"I'll pay double."
She groaned. "Money isn't the issue."
"Money is always the issue. Use your head—you don't want to throw away all those bucks."
A lot of bucks, a lot of bucks, a lot of bucks—money is always the issue. A horrible feeling of deja vu washed over her and she gasped; for an instant she was back in the hospital, the wrathful voices of Ben and Cary dueling in her brain. The receiver fell from her numb fingers and clattered against the desk. It took a moment of fumbling before she got back on line.
"I dropped the phone," she choked out, painfully aware of the quaver in her voice. "I'm sorry, but I can't work for you anymore. If I have to I'll simply sit here until our con-tract expires in October, but there's nothing I can do for you."
"Damn it, you can't get away with this."
"I'm sorry. Goodbye, Cary."
She hung up, her entire body trembling. She stared down at her hands, seeing the short nails, but remembering when they had been otherwise.
It had been a long time since she'd experienced such a strong flash of recall. She'd learned to live with an occasional problem of expression—a word or phrase that refused to come—and a fluctuating ability to recall numbers and names and events. But for an instant there, she'd gone all the way back, back to a nightmarish struggle for survival itself.
Lillian went home a couple of days later and Juliana was sorry—but not very. She liked Ben's sister, but she liked Ben more, and Lillian's presence cut seriously into their time together:
Also, business was booming, and gradually she settled back into that groove. But now she watched every move she made, not trusting herself. For the first time she felt-drawn not to the big bucks but to the challenges. She spent all the time she could with Ben, but somehow it' was never enough.
Paige left for Europe on the sixteenth day of June in the company of a dozen other students, the group led by ah art instructor from the local community college. That same afternoon, Juliana moved in with Ben.
"I don't know why you waited," he groused as he carried an armload of her clothing, still on hangers, into the house. "Who'd you think you're fooling? Certainly not Paige."
"I'm just not ready to get into this with her or anybody else." Juliana looked around for a likely place to deposit the cardboard box of underwear she clutched in her arms.
He dumped his burden onto the bed. "You ashamed of what you're doing, Juli?"
He looked so big and strong and sexy standing there beside the bed that she felt her pulse accelerate. "I'm not ashamed," she said, her voice low. "But neither am I interested in spreading my personal business all over town."
She set the box on top of the dresser and hesitated, watching him in the mirror. "I've never done anything like this before—lived with a man I wasn't married to, I mean. Let me get used to it before I go public, okay?"
"I suppose." His level blue gaze seemed to strip her bare. "Think cohabitation will be bad for business?"
"If I did, I wouldn't be here." She spoke tartly but not honestly, despite her almost daily pledges to herself to tell nothing but the truth. She groaned. "I don't mean that. The truth is, I'm not sure what it will mean where business is concerned. But I've decided you're worth the risk."
He stared at her, then threw back his head and laughed, the cords in his thick brown neck standing out. He held out his arms to her.
"Avocados be damned," he said.
"Ditto real estate." She met him more than halfway.
His words began to seem almost prophetic, in light of the continuing drought. The avocado business really did seem to be damned as July approached with ever-rising temperatures and ever-lower humidity.
Although attracting more and more attention and business as a security consultant, Ben spent every available minute in the groves, struggling to keep the aging irrigation system operational and the trees watered and cared for.
He'd been close-mouthed about the farm's prospects since Lillian's visi
t, and so Juliana wasn't prepared for his terse appraisal one evening over the dinner table.
"If this weather doesn't break, I'm going to start losing the good stuff."
His comment seemed to come at Juliana out of left field. She'd been talking about the real estate ball, and it took her a few seconds to switch gears. "The good stuff?"
"The heavy fruit drops first, before it's ready to pick." He stared down at the avocado on his plate as if it were at fault. He shoved his fork at the shrimp stuffing without enthusiasm.
Juliana—who'd gone to a lot of trouble to stop by the supermarket and pick up the shrimp, not to mention the time she'd spent peeling it—watched with displeasure. "Can't you just pick the avocados up off the ground and sell them?"
"Sure, but they're bruised and not worth a hell of a lot." He banged his fork down. "It's not working," he said. "If it wasn't for the money I bring in with the security consulting, it'd be over already."
"Oh, Ben, why won't you let me help?"
It was an ongoing point of contention between them, although rarely acknowledged openly. He shook his head. "No chance." He sat in silence for a moment and then said abruptly, "I got a new offer on the place today. It's lower than what Goddard was willing to pay, but I may decide to take it."
Juliana caught her breath sharply. No! This deal is mine! The thought flashed across her mind closely followed by the realization that such a reaction was completely unworthy of her. "W-who's the agent?"
"Barbara Snell."
Another blow. She swallowed hard and tried to keep her voice calm and noncommittal. "Who's the buyer?"
"Some company from L.A. I never heard of it, but the plans aren't a lot different from Goddard's."
"But you're considering it?" She pushed her plate away> her own appetite gone.
"Yeah. The hell of it is, I know I could make this farm work if I just had a little more time." The muscle in his jaw ridged. "Looks like probate will be settled within the next six weeks. There are bills, and Lillian's got to see some bucks."
But he won't accept a loan from me, Juliana reminded herself. "Is…is there anything at all I can do to help you?"
One More Chance Page 15