A Soldier's Return (12 page)

“How’s it going in here?” she said as she stuck her head in the kitchen.

Betty was the one who replied. “Carrie has a dab hand in the kitchen.”

“That’s high praise from you, Betty. But I just did what you told me to do.” Then Carrie turned to Vanessa. “How’s your work coming?”

“I’m done. I’m ready to go take my shower and get dressed.”

“I can finish up, Carrie, if you need to go, too,” Betty assured her.

“That’s okay. I want to cut up my fudge and arrange it on this plate.”

“Well, I won’t object,” Betty said. “That will give me time to ice the carrot cake.”

“Oh, I love carrot cake.”

“Just do me a favor. When it’s time to eat dessert, cut the first piece. Otherwise, no one will dare cut it and my carrot cake will go to waste.”

“I promise I’ll do that for you…with pleasure!” Carrie agreed with a grin.

T
HE PARTY WAS
to begin at seven, so at six-thirty, Carrie and Vanessa, their preparations complete, descended to the first floor to do a final check.

Betty had the buffet set up in the den, and the rug removed, the furniture having been pushed back along the walls. In the dining room, Betty had set up the desserts for later in the evening. The table was full.

“How many people did you say are coming?” Carrie asked.

“Well, I invited thirty-five people and I got forty-one acceptances.”

Carrie shook her head. “You’re the only person I know who could receive more acceptances than she sent out invitations.”

“Well, I agreed when people asked if they could bring a friend. According to my calculations, we’ll have more males than females. And I don’t want you avoiding everyone like you usually do. I want you to join in the fun.”

“I’ll try,” Carrie promised with a sinking heart. She really didn’t enjoy parties, but she’d make an effort tonight. Especially since she would be looking for a guy to use as an excuse to avoid some of Vanessa’s invitations.

“Did Jim say when he’d get here?” Vanessa asked.

“No, he didn’t.”

“So you two didn’t discuss the party at all?”

Carrie couldn’t meet Vanessa’s gaze. She straightened one of the dessert forks as she said, “We mentioned it once or twice, but mostly we discuss business at work.”

“How dull!”

“Actually, we think it’s interesting. And Jim is doing a good job. He’s impressed one of our clients and solved a couple cases since he started.”

“Good. I want him to do well. And you think he likes it?”

“Yes, I’m sure he does.”

“That’s—”

Vanessa stopped because the doorbell sounded. She linked her arm with Carrie’s. “Our first guest has arrived. Let’s get the party started.”

By seven-thirty, the music was playing, people were dancing both in the den and out on the patio, and everyone expected had arrived.

Carrie danced with several men, but she kept her gaze focused on Jim as he danced by her, his arm around a statuesque redhead. They were well matched, Carrie decided with a sigh, and vowed to give her full attention to the man she was dancing with.

Someone caught her hand and she looked up to find the dance had ended and Jim was holding it. “Hi, how are you doing?”

“You tell me, teacher,” he said, pulling her into his arms. The music had started again and he moved them out into the center of the floor. “Who were you dancing with?” he whispered.

She looked up, startled. “Um, someone named Mike, a lawyer.”

“You don’t know his last name?”

“No. Is it important?”

“Nope. How am I doing, by the way?”

“If you’re talking about your dancing, I think you were faking it when you said you needed lessons,” she said, looking up at him with a challenge in her gaze.

He laughed and spun her around. “I knew how to dance, but I was a little rusty. You helped me get warmed up.”

“I’m so glad I could be of service,” she returned, a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

“I have a question for you. I should have asked it before. What do you tell people when they ask what you do for a living?”

Carrie quickly looked up and then away. “I lie. People get weird if I say I’m a P.I., so I tell them I’m a receptionist. Even Vanessa didn’t know for a long time.”

“Hmm, what’s a good answer for me? I don’t think receptionist will do.”

“No, but you could say you work for an insurance company and still be telling the truth.”

“Man, I should’ve thought of that.”

“What did you tell Miranda?”

“Is that the redhead’s name? I told her I wasn’t sure what I was going to do yet. After all, I’ve only been back in the States a couple of weeks.”

“That’s not a bad answer.”

“Thanks,” Jim said with a laugh and another spin.

As they danced, Carrie felt herself move closer to Jim involuntarily, and she apologized as she tried to pull away from him.

“I told you people dance closer together, Carrie,” he whispered in her ear. “Miranda certainly did, so I think it’s all right.”

That may be true, Carrie thought, but it wouldn’t be
happening with them. Too close was too dangerous. She could feel his arms around her like bands of steel, and his chest was rock hard, no doubt courtesy of his military days. Even his thighs were muscular as they pressed against hers, sending her on a sensory sojourn that could only lead to trouble.

She backed away, putting a good foot between them, and finished the dance. Despite the distance, she enjoyed dancing with Jim and was disappointed when the music ended. She smiled at Jim and turned toward the edge of the room.

“Want to go again?”

“Don’t be silly. Vanessa would be very disappointed if I kept you from the other ladies. You know that.” She smiled and turned away again.

He let her go, of course. Several women were approaching him. The Dallas ladies weren’t shy about introducing themselves to a man they wanted to dance with. Except for her. She’d never been good about that.

Vanessa met her as she came off the dance floor. “Is Jim having a good time?”

She looked over her shoulder at Jim. “It looks like it to me.” Since he was surrounded by several women, she figured he wouldn’t be doing any complaining. Or winking of his eye.

An hour later, Carrie was tired of dancing. She sat out several dances, visiting with old friends. Vanessa, she noticed, had been dancing with a different guy every song, but for the last two, she stayed with the same partner. He was tall, handsome, but Carrie didn’t know his name. She asked a friend and discovered his first name was Trevor.

Jim danced by then, with Stella pressed up against him. Carrie was smiling ruefully until Jim looked directly at her and winked.

Surely she’d imagined it.

Jim swung his partner around and came back past Carrie and winked again. This time it was unmistakable.

She drew a deep breath and stood up to tap Stella on the shoulder, but before she could do so, the song ended. She stepped closer to Jim. “May I have the next dance, Jim?”

“I’d love to. Thanks, Stella.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not through with him!” Stella protested, batting her eyelashes at Jim.

“Sorry. Maybe you can catch him again later,” Carrie said, easily moving into Jim’s embrace as a new song began.

He pulled her close against him and danced immediately to the French doors that led out to the patio. Once they were safely down the flagstone steps, they continued to dance in the dim light.

“Good job, honey. I don’t think I could take another dance with dear Stella,” Jim whispered.

“I don’t like her, either, but Vanessa thought you should have different choices.”

“I notice she’s not making a lot of choices for herself. Who is the guy she’s dancing with?”

“One of my friends said his name is Trevor, but I don’t know him. He’s very handsome.”

“Yeah, but Trevor? We didn’t get many of those kind in the marines.”

“What kind?”

“People named Trevor or Windsor. You know, trust-fund babies.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” Carrie agreed with a smile. “But I don’t know for sure that he has a trust fund.”

“Hopefully Vanessa will change partners now. Three dances in a row with the same guy shows a little too much partiality.”

“Wow. You’re strict on your baby sister, aren’t you?” Carrie was pretty sure Vanessa wouldn’t appreciate Jim’s ideas on how she should run her life. Vivian trusted Vanessa to make her own decisions.

“I tell you what. Since it’s time for dessert, you grab a table for four and invite Vanessa to join us. I’ll go get us some desserts. Do you have any preferences?”

“Anything chocolate. And a piece of the carrot cake. I promised Betty.”

When the music ended, Vanessa invited everyone to enjoy dessert. As the guests surged to the dining room, Carrie waved Vanessa over and invited her to join her. “I’ll save the table while you find someone to ask.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

True to her word, Vanessa was back in no time.

“Whom did you invite?” Carrie asked.

“Trevor Williams. Did you meet him?”

“No, I don’t think I did. Is he new to the area?”

“No, I’ve known him for a while, but not well. He came with Graham Wilson tonight. We’re getting along very well,” Vanessa said with a self-satisfied smile.

“So I noticed. Jim did, too.”

“Oh, was it obvious?”

“Well, yes. You danced three straight dances with him.” She smiled as Vanessa’s cheeks turned red.

“I didn’t realize it was that many. We just kept talking and the music would start up again…I’ll try not to dance with him again.”

“You make it sound like that might be hard,” Carrie teased.

Before Vanessa could protest, Jim reached their table. He managed three plates, one with fudge and two with carrot cake. “I couldn’t handle another plate, so we’ll have to share the fudge.” He set the dishes down and then took a seat. “Hi, Vanessa. Great party. Who’s joining us?”

Trevor reached their table just as Vanessa answered. She made the introductions and they all settled in for a sugar fix. After he’d finished his piece of carrot cake, Jim asked Trevor what he did for a living.

“I’m in real estate,” Trevor said. “You need a house?”

Jim smiled but shook his head. “Not yet. I just got out of the service.”

“You mean the army?”

“No, the marines.”

“Did you have to go overseas?”

“Yes, I did.”

“I’m against sending troops overseas. I think America should stay uninvolved in other countries’ problems. We need to downsize our troops, not increase them.”

Jim took a bite of fudge. “This is good, Carrie. Did you make it?”

“Yes, I did,” she said, recognizing that Jim was trying to change the subject.

Trevor, however, seemed to be intent upon making sure Jim understood him. “I mean, I’m sure you worked hard, but it seems to me we shouldn’t be killing other people. Did you have to kill someone?”

Jim looked at Trevor. “Yes, I did.”

“Well, I think that’s despicable,” Trevor announced, withdrawing just the slightest amount from Jim.

“Jim is my brother,” Vanessa said clearly. She hadn’t indicated their relationship earlier. “And Wally, my second brother, was killed overseas.”

“And that’s my point exactly. We shouldn’t be trying to kill people. You should’ve found a nice job after college and not gone into the marines.”

“Is that what you did? Found a nice job after college?” Jim asked casually.

“Well, I started to work about a year later. I did some traveling first.”

“Trust fund?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, my old man made a bunch of cash shipping ammo overseas.”

“Good thing he has nothing against war, isn’t it? Otherwise, you might not have gotten to travel.” Jim turned to Carrie and offered her a second piece of fudge.

“No, thanks, Jim. You go ahead and eat it.”

Trevor, in the meantime, was protesting, “My father didn’t furnish ammo to the enemy, I can assure you.”

“Really? So he only shipped to U.S. depots?”

“Well, no, but— I’m sure he only shipped to proper companies.”

“Wait a minute. Do you mean he shipped to people other than the U.S.?” Vanessa questioned.

“Probably not,” Trevor hurriedly said.

“But you don’t really know, do you?”

“Easy, Vanessa,” Jim said softly. “He could be telling the truth.”

“No! He doesn’t even know. He’s just guessing!”

“Come on, Vanessa,” Trevor began. “I doubt that my father would make money at our fighting troops’ expense.”

“It makes life easy for you when you don’t know, doesn’t it?” Vanessa said, glaring at him. She jumped up from the table and walked away.

“See what you did?” Trevor demanded, glaring at Jim.

Jim nodded, but didn’t look very concerned.

Once Trevor had stalked away, Carrie asked, “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. But who would name his kid Trevor?”

“Jim, you’re being absurd. There’s nothing wrong with that name.”

“Would you name your kid Trevor?”

“No,” she assured him, “but that doesn’t make it a bad name.”

“Whatever you say. How about another dance?”

“We can’t,” she teased. “We’ve already danced together twice, and you said three times was too often.”

“Damn! Hoist on my own petard.”

Carrie laughed. “Careful, you’ll ruin your tough-guy image.”

“Ah, right. I can’t use words like
petard
in front of other people. All right, I’ll take our dishes back and—”

He was interrupted by a young lady soliciting his hand for a dance.

“You go ahead, and I’ll return our dishes,” Carrie
said. Actually, she looked forward to checking with Betty and Peter in the kitchen.

When she reached the kitchen, she found Will there, too. “Is there a problem?”

“No. I’m downstairs to fix a tray for Vivian and me. How’s the party going?”

“It’s fine. It’s a beautiful night for it.”

“Meet anyone interesting?”

She gave Will a droll look. “No, I haven’t. I thought Vanessa had, but I think Jim put a spoke in his wheel.”

“Jim’s a good man,” Peter said solemnly.

“Yes, he is, Peter,” Will agreed. “Now, Carrie, get back out there and find a nice guy for you.”

“Right,” she agreed, but she resisted Will’s urging. She wasn’t in the mood to find a nice guy. Not tonight.

She wandered back into the den, where in her role as cohostess, she invited a man to dance. Then she introduced him to a friend.

With a sigh, Carrie looked across the dance floor only to encounter Jim, dancing again with Stella. There was no doubting his wink.

Debating her options, she hesitated, but Jim swung his partner around and winked again, looking absolutely miserable. Carrie stepped onto the dance floor and made her way to the couple. She tapped Stella on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”

Stella glared at Carrie. “You’ve already cut in once.”

“Actually, I didn’t. The music ended.”

“Well, I don’t want to give up my partner.” Stella moved closer to Jim.

“Uh, Stella,” Jim began, “maybe we can dance to
gether later. But I think—” As if on cue, the music ended. “There you go. Now I’ll dance the next one with Carrie.”

“And maybe I’ll interrupt her dance,” Stella said, glaring at Carrie.

Fortunately for Jim, one of Carrie’s earlier partners asked Stella to dance.

“And hopefully he’ll keep her busy for a while,” Jim murmured.

“Are you allergic to her?” Carrie asked. “Every time you’ve danced with her, you’ve winked at me.”

“Yep, that’s right. I’m allergic to women who
think
they’re sexy. And I’ve been waiting for you to wink at me, but you seem perfectly happy with the men you’ve met. You even asked that last one to dance.”

“I asked you to dance, too, remember?”

“Yeah, but only because I winked at you,” he pointed out as he danced them out to the patio again.

This time, dancing with Jim felt good. She loved the feel of his hand on her back, how his other hand lightly held hers. Their bodies moved as one, swaying with the beat. Despite what he’d said, Jim was a good dancer.

“Mmm, I like it out here,” she said after a deep breath. “Vivian’s garden smells delightful. And it’s so beautiful.”

“Does she do all this by herself, or just direct Peter?”

“She does most of it herself. Of course, when she got too big during her pregnancy, she had to hand over the tools to Peter. But she’s gotten back out since Danny was born. Of course, she might not have the time for it if she didn’t have Betty. She’s such a treasure.”

Jim steered her into the shadows of a tree lit only by dim landscaping lights. They had left the noise of the party behind them, now only a distant hum that lulled her. If she allowed herself, Carrie knew she’d admit this was one of the most romantic encounters of her life. Good music to dance to, a handsome man to hold her, a moonlit night to hide in… This was just as it was in her fantasies. Maybe even better, since this Jim was flesh and blood.