The heat wave stretched on interminably…six days, seven...Grass and weeds turned brown and died on the hillsides, trees and bushes wilted in the fierce temperatures and low humidity. Wildlife—coyotes and snakes especially—began to appear in the groves more and more boldly in the search for water. But if the howl of coyotes didn't bother Ben, something else did.
"The worse sound an avocado grower can hear is plop…plop…plop," he said in a dispirited voice. "That's the sound of avocados falling off the trees."
Juliana went through her days holding her breath, waiting for Ben to make a final decision on the fate of the ranch. By now, she had cold feet and wasn't sure what she wanted him to do. It would make everything so much easier if he'd just swallow his pride long enough to accept a loan, she thought dejectedly.
Which of course, he wouldn't.
In the meantime, life went on. With Paige due to return from Europe the day after the real-estate ball, Juliana made reluctant plans to move back into her own house.
"When the going gets tough, the not-so-tough bail out," Ben said moodily. Juliana had spent most of the day trying to get her stuff organized for the move.
"That's not fair," she said tightly. "When I moved in here we both agreed—"
"I know what we agreed." He turned abruptly and headed for the door.
"Ben?"
He stopped, his back to her, his hand on the doorknob. His very posture seemed forbidding.
She forced herself to speak. "I have to drive to L.A. tomorrow. All my stuff will be moved by then, so I'll just go on home when I get back." Beg me to stay—ask me to stay. She held her breath.
Muscle ridged across his shoulders, beneath the soft white T-shirt. Then, ever so gradually, he relaxed.
"Suit yourself," he said carelessly. He opened the screen door.
"You'll still go to the ball with me, won't you?" Damn, it came out like a plea, as if she were begging. Well, maybe she was.
He shrugged. "Sure. Tickets cost money. I wouldn't want you to waste one." And he was gone.
That night in the four-poster bed, he roused her to a fever pitch she thought he'd never deign to satisfy. Even after he had—brilliantly—she found herself lying there in:, the dark and wondering if this was his way of telling her that although she could move back into her own house and resume her old life, nothing would ever be the same for her again.
As if she needed a reminder.
When she left for Los Angeles Friday, Ben didn't bother to come in from the grove to see her off. Not even Free loader was around. She hoped the kitten was safely inside the barn; it had a dangerous tendency to wander around in the groves.
Dejected, she drove down from the rim of the canyon, Up on the terraced slopes, she caught a glimpse of Ben among the trees. She waved; he lifted one arm in a brief, dismissive gesture, a bronzed mythical figure.
The day passed in distracted attempts to concentrate on business. It wasn't until she turned the Mercedes toward Summerhill again that she admitted this wasn't going to work.
She didn't want to leave him. She didn't want to move back into her own house. The weeks she'd spent with him had been the happiest and most deeply satisfying of her life and she was about to turn her back on them and on him.
The wind blew in from the deserts to the west, hot and dry and destructive as it picked up speed. Temperatures hovered in the upper nineties and the molten sun blazed from a cloudless sky.
Ben squatted in the deep leafy ground cover beneath an avocado tree, shaded by the thick canopy of branches. Digging down, he located the flexible black irrigation pipe and pulled it free of debris.
Carefully he examined the pipe. Several of the sprinkler heads were missing, and he saw tooth marks around the punctures in the pipe where they'd been. Coyotes. The wild things were suffering, too:
Hell of a business, he thought with disgust, throwing down the pipe and rising, He'd been in the groves since Juliana drove away. It was time to go back to the house and race up to the emptiness he would find there.
As he neared the barn, Freeloader trotted out into the road ahead and sat down to groom itself, Ben grinned at the creature. At least the cat was sticking.
Would Juliana have stuck if Ben sold this place? The thought was new and unwelcome and Ben stopped to consider it. A flash of movement brought his head swinging up just in time to see a gray shadow dart out of the shady depths of the grove and streak toward Freeloader straight as an arrow.
"Coyote!" Ben yelled and hurled himself forward into a run. At his warning cry. Freeloader sprang up, the hair of its back rising. Stupid cat doesn't know where the danger's coming from, Ben realized as the creature spun in a circle as if trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
Too late the cat saw the coyote. Without slowing its breakneck pace it swung its head and snatched Freeloader up in its jaws, never breaking stride.
Muscles straining, Ben charged after the marauder, dodging and ducking beneath the low, heavy branches of the avocado trees. Hopelessly outmatched, he watched the coyote pull away, its skinny, rangy form sliding effortlessly beneath low-hanging branches. The cat flopped bonelessly in the creature's mouth.
Ben's breath labored in his lungs as he fought his way between the trees. He knew he was too late; he knew the kitten was dead, and even if he caught up to the coyote there was nothing he could do. But he kept running.
The toes of one foot hooked beneath an irrigation pipe and he pitched forward full length on the soft cushion of leaves. Swearing, he scrambled up just in time to see the coyote disappear down an embankment leading to the road.
Heart pounding, Ben reached the point where the coyote had vanished, along with its helpless prey. Nothing. No sign of cat or captor.
Freeloader was history. Ben's head tilted back and a monstrous cry of denial ripped from his straining throat. I've failed again. The realization clawed at his gut. Everything I touch turns to—
He saw the Mercedes out of the corner of his eye, snakng along the canyon road below. Juliana was coming back, despite all her protestations to the contrary.
Without thinking, he flung himself over the lip of the embankment, his feet scrambling and slipping as he plummeted down the slope to intercept her.
Ben hurtled into the road ahead and Juliana slammed on the brakes. Her heart pounded—he looked like a wild man—bits of leaves clinging to his tousled hair, his torn T-shirt stained with earth and sweat. His arms were scratched and beaded with bloody furrows and his face bore an expression barbaric in its ferocity.
She threw open the car door and jumped out, eager and yet somehow frightened.
Ben stalked toward her and she waited, trembling. His massive chest rose and fell with the force of his breathing, and she saw the beauty of an avenging angel in his face and body.
He grabbed her by the arms and hauled her body close but not quite touching. His blue eyes glared down into her face. "I love you," he said in his raspy voice. "Don't ever leave me again."
He yanked her hard against him, so tightly that she felt every bulge and indentation in his lean hard length. His hot mouth found hers; his tongue plunged between her lips almost brutally, as if he were branding her with the mark of his possession.
At last he raised his head. Cupping her face with his hands, he stared down at her. Somehow her wig had slipped off and he slid one hand over her scalp, his fingers sliding through the short brown hair.
"You came back," he said in a voice rough with emotion. "I need you, Juliana, and I love you. Marry me."
Her hands were at his waist beneath his T-shirt, and she clenched her fingers convulsively into his lean sides. Unendurable happiness welled up inside her, so intense that she scarcely dared believe in it. "W-what did you say?"
"You know perfectly well what I said." He gave her a hard, fast kiss on the lips. "Say yes, Juliana. Don't think about it, don't consider what impact it would have on your business, don't analyze it to death. Just say yes!"
"Yes!" She reach
ed up to smooth his blond hair away from the side of his face in a loving gesture.
He drew a ragged breath. "You mean it?" His voice sounded dubious, as if he, too, were afraid to hope.
"I mean it. Ben, I love you." She rose on tiptoe and pressed fevered kisses on his jaw. She didn't recall ever feeling such happiness, and she gave herself up to it completely. She leaned back, her arms looped around his neck. Past his head she could see the sun low in the west. "I'll marry you, Ben, anytime, anyplace, anywhere."
She felt him tremble, and she tightened her arms around him and held him close until the trembling passed, standing there in the middle of Buena Suerte Canyon Road.
Now everything would be all right. Once they were married, Ben would have the money he needed to keep his land. Together they'd make a life rich in happiness and love.
Tomorrow night, after the realtor's ball, she'd tell him everything.
The pebbled drive at the Summerhill Elks Lodge crunched beneath their feet as Ben and Juliana walked toward the entrance. The lodge was the only facility in the city large enough for an event the size of the annual realtors' ball.
Juliana clung to Ben's arm, her hand—her whole body—shaking. "I feel absolutely light-headed without my wig," she whispered as they fell into line behind several other late arrivals. "Are you sure I look all right?"
All right? Ben smiled down at her, feeling such love and pride that it frightened him. She'd twisted a silvery cord through her short brown hair, which curved over her cheeks and forehead in silky tendrils. She looked sensational in the gray gauze dress they'd bought that fateful day at the mall. She worried at a long string of pearls with one hand, rubbing the creamy spheres together without regard for their delicacy. He was so proud of her that it even made it worth the effort of crawling into a tuxedo again.
"Hell no!" he said. "You don't look all right—you look great." He bent swiftly and kissed her on the lips.
She yanked away, her face flushing, but not before he'd felt her response. He grinned and winked.
"Don't do that," she exclaimed. "What will people think?"
"That I'm crazy about you. Maybe they'll think there's something going on between us. A smart few might think we're engaged."
She groaned. "Have you noticed a certain tendency in me to overlook the forest for the trees?"
"Now that you mention it…" He raised one eyebrow and guided her inside the foyer ablaze with lights. It was probably going out in public for the first time without the wig, he decided. She'd be all right as soon as this affair got underway.
"Juliana, you look wonderful!"
Juliana turned to exchange pleasantries with a gray-haired, jewel-bedecked woman, leaning forward to kiss the air over her shoulder. It had been this way all evening; everyone genuinely happy to see Juliana out and about. She'd been hugged, kissed and patted ever since she walked into the building.
"Well, you certainly don't look as if you've been ill," the woman exclaimed. "You look radiant, in fact. Short hair's in, you know. You…"
Juliana's smile slipped; across the room she saw Barbara Snell.
Escorted by Cary Goddard. Her grip on Ben's arm tightened.
Well of course, she'd be here, Juliana reminded herself. She'd be winning heaven only knows how many honors tonight. But did she have to come with Cary? Did she have to flaunt it?
Barbara glanced up, and her gaze met Juliana's—met and locked. After a long hesitation, Barbara smiled and waved; she spoke to Cary and he also looked Juliana's way and nodded.
But she had seen that expression on Barbara's face, cutting through all the phony "nice" the woman used like a net to snare the unwary. Juliana made a silent vow to avoid Barbara, at all costs.
A tap on the shoulder brought Juliana swinging around. A waiter stood there, holding a tray of champagne glasses. "Mrs. Robinson?" he asked. "Mrs. Juliana Robinson?"
"Yes?"
"Telephone." He gestured toward the entryway.
Juliana excused herself, trying not to let her concern show. Who would call her here?
Pete. "Am I glad I got you," he exclaimed.
She felt sick with dread. "What's the matter?"
"Barbara's asking questions."
She controlled her impatience. "You're going to have to be a little more specific than that, Pete."
There was a pause. Then he said caustically, "Okay, how's this for specific? Barbara has a cousin who works for the Summerhill Trust and Realty Company."
Juliana felt as if a hole had opened up beneath her feet. "Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure. Here's what happened—Barbara came in for lunch at Senor Pizza today, and of course I stopped by her table. We're dishing the bull and she says to me, sweet as pie, 'I hear you're buying a piece of Ben Ware's land'."
"Oh, no,"
"Oh, yes. With my usual savoir faire, I stuttered and stammered and finally asked her where she got her information. She politely suggested it was none of my business."
"Pete, get to the point. How does that tell you she has connections with Summerhill Trust?"
"Because I mentioned it later to Sandy and she told me. See, our neighbor's daughter dates Barbara's son and when she was looking for a job, he told her to go see his mother's cousin at Summerhill Trust."
Juliana groaned. "Now you tell me."
"Hey, I have no intention of being left holding the bag all by my lonesome."
She couldn't blame him for that. When the conversation ended, she stood there for a moment, thinking. All she had to do was avoid Barbara tonight, Juliana decided. Tomorrow Ben would know everything and then it wouldn't matter.
That proved easier said than done. A few minutes later, Barbara followed Juliana into the women's lounge.
Barbara made the opening gambit. "Well, don't you look nice."
"Thank you. So do you."
Barbara smoothed the skirt of her black cocktail dress over ample hips. "So I guess that takes care of the amenities. Juliana, about Ben's land—do you know what he's decided to do? My client's getting impatient."
"Cary—your client's name is Cary." Juliana spoke more sharply than she intended and tried to moderate her tone.
"Let me give you a piece of advice about Ben." She put her hand on the door and met the other woman's level gaze. "Don't push him. You do and he'll push back."
"I wouldn't have to push him if a certain party hadn't come in with some cockamamie proposal to delay the inevitable."
Juliana recoiled. She'd never seen Barbara come so close to losing it. "The land is Ben's, not mine. If you're smart, you won't bother him about this tonight."
The lounge door swung open and a bevy of talking, laughing women trooped inside. In the ensuing confusion, Juliana made her getaway.
Physically, at least. Mentally she couldn't shake the feeling of doom caused by Barbara's hostility. If she'd ferreted out Pete's name, then she'd know the rest, whether she could prove it or not. Pete's precarious finances were no secret in this town.
But even so, she can't prove anything, Juliana told herself defiantly. If she says anything to Ben, I'll just brazen it out.
"Let's dance."
Ben's voice in her ear made her jump. Gratefully she turned into his strong arms. She'd tell him the very minute they got home. Preferably in bed. She smiled into his tuxedo-clad shoulder.
He glanced down at her. "Huh?"
"Just thinking. About you… and me… and a nice little engagement party for just the two of us, when we can get out of here."
His hands on her tightened, and his blue eyes narrowed. "Not too little," he said in that smoky voice that sent shivers up and down her spine.
She settled back into the rhythm of the music, but her thoughts kept crowding in. She'd made a mistake, trying to manipulate him with her money, even if it was for his own good. Besides, now that they were going to get married, he wouldn't be so stubborn about the money issue.
Would he?
The music ended and they moved toward the buffet
table, hand in hand. Ben leaned down and spoke in her ear so she could hear him despite the drone of voices. "Do we have to stay for the awards?" He gave her hand a meaningful squeeze.
"I don't see why. It's not as if I expect to win anything," she said dryly.
He gave her a grin ripe with promise and turned for the door, but she pulled back. "Wait a minute. If I don't stay, it'll look like sour grapes. I'm sorry."
He tilted his carefully barbered head and sighed. "Sorrier than you know. I was thinking chandeliers and mirrors, but if saving face is more important—"
"Not leaving so soon?" Barbara's voice announced her arrival, Cary at her side. He included both Ben and Juliana in a curt nod of greeting.
"We have other plans," Ben said, one brow arching up. "Got another party to go to."
"What a shame." Barbara drew Cary forward and slipped her arm beneath his, clinging to him. "Before you go, Ben, I wonder if you could give me just the teeniest little hint about how you're going to respond to the last offer I brought you for your land."
"Why, I—" Ben broke off abruptly, his brow wrinkling and his eyes narrowing. He looked from Barbara to Cary and back again.
He knows, Juliana suddenly realized. He's just figured it out. Heaven help us.
A mask seemed to drop over Ben's face, which only an instant before had been relaxed and smiling. He ignored Barbara and gave Cary Goddard a simmering look. "The answer's no, Goddard. The answer's always going to be no to you."
Barbara gasped. "I'm not representing Mr. Goddard. My client is—"
"Let it go." Cary's sleek voice cut her off in mid-sentence. "It was a good try, but it didn't work. Now we've got to figure out what will."
"She told him!" Barbara's little-girl facade split open to reveal a furious woman. "Of all the nerve!"
Ben frowned. "What are you talking about? Seeing you two here together just brought the whole thing into focus. Juliana didn't say anything—hell, she didn't know herself."
One More Chance Page 17