Affair of the Heart (7 page)

Caroline put her handkerchief away and took out her lipstick. “Wednesday,” she said. “I’ll say on Tuesday that the office called and they need me back.”

“That would be best.” His voice held absolutely no expression.

“I think so.” She took the top off her lipstick, but her hands were still shaking too much for her to put it on. She felt tears sting her eyes, and she bent her head. “Damn,” she muttered.

He took a step toward her and then stopped. He swore under his breath and then turned on his heel. “I’ll see you later,” he said, and once again she was alone on the terrace.

After a few minutes she tried her lipstick again and this time managed to put it on. Then she stood up, squared her shoulders, and went back into the ballroom.

Jay was dancing with Mary Anne. Caroline’s eyes found him immediately, drawn to him as irresistibly as a piece of metal to a magnet. Mary Anne’s cheek was pressed against his shoulder, and they were dancing slowly, closely. Over the dark head of the girl in his arms, her stepbrother’s eyes met hers. Caroline turned abruptly away and in less than half a minute had been claimed by Dan Masters.

She got through the rest of the dance on sheer nerves. For the last forty-five minutes she sought out Joe and remained strictly under the protection of his company. She did not come within twenty feet of Jay until they went out to the station wagon for the return trip to the ranch. Mary Anne was not with them, as she was returning home with her parents. She had invited Caroline to come into town to meet her for lunch one day, and Caroline had promised to call her.

Joe held the front door of the station wagon for Caroline, and she glanced at him a little nervously, hoping he was planning to drive home. But it was Jay who slid behind the wheel. He put the car into gear, backed out, and started down the street. “They had a good crowd,” he said over his shoulder to his father.

“Yep. Did you talk to Donald Barnes?”

“I did.” Jay’s voice sounded very grave.

“We haven’t had one of those things to worry about for a while.”

“No. Let’s hope they get him before he moves onto our range.”

“Get what?” asked Caroline.

Jay’s profile was impassive. “Mountain lion up by Montana,” he said. “Donald got a call from his brother-in-law. The cat’s killed a whole lot of cattle, and it looks like he’s headed this way.”

“A mountain lion,” Caroline repeated. “Dear God.”

“Yeah,” said Joe. “One lion can account for a hell of a lot of cattle if he’s a mind to.”

“Is there a hunt out for him?” Caroline asked.

“There is, and I hope they get him. But just in case ...” The big rancher trailed off meaningfully.

Jay grunted. “I’ll alert the men. We’ll be ready to go if we have to.”

Caroline’s throat felt dry. “Will you go after it, then?” she asked her stepbrother.

“May have to. If it moves this way.”

“Jay’s the best shot in the county,” Joe said with simple pride.

“Oh.” Caroline watched the shadowy profile of the man next to her. “Do mountain lions attack humans?” she asked after a little.

She could see the white gleam of his teeth. “Not usually,” he said.

“Oh,” Caroline said again.

He laughed. “Are you worried about me?”

“No. I’m worried about the lion.” Her voice was very gentle. “I hate to see an animal die of food poisoning. It’s so painful.”

There was a minute’s silence and then Joe chuckled. “I think you’ve just been insulted, son.”

“And by an expert.” Jay sounded amused. “Don’t worry, Caroline. No mountain lion is going to get close enough to take a bite out of me.”

“The ASPCA will be so pleased.”

“Wait a minute!” said Joe. “You two are beginning to sound as if you
were
brother and sister.”

At this very unperceptive comment, Jay and Caroline exchanged an involuntary glance. Brother and sister, Caroline thought. Dear God.

“Um, Joe,” she said after a minute of silence. “I did so enjoy talking to Dr. Underwood. He had a million stories—though none of them were about mountain lions.”

“He’s a grand person,” said Joe, diverted as she had intended he should be. There was a faint smile on Jay’s lips as he glanced at her, but he contributed little to the conversation, seemingly intent on guiding the station wagon along the mountain road.

They arrived home quite late, and Caroline was tired when she finally crawled into bed. She did not go to sleep right away, however, but lay awake for a long time, her mind a chaotic whirl of thought and emotion. Finally she got out of bed and went to sit by her window, wrapped in a blanket against the chill of an early Wyoming morning.

Jay Hamilton, she thought. No other man she had ever met had affected her as he did. How could that be? And what did it mean?

Underneath her cool sophisticated exterior, Caroline had an intensely feminine nature. Although she would never have dared admit it to any of her liberated friends, Caroline had no hankering after a career. She wanted a man—
the
man—and marriage and a family. It might be considered a disgraceful ambition for a woman in this day and age, but still, there it was. It was all she had ever wanted, ever since she was a little girl playing with dolls. She held down an interesting job. She did it well, because she was bright, well-educated and conscientious. But she had always regarded it as a temporary thing.

The career she wanted was marriage. It was that simple old-fashioned desire that accounted for her two abortive engagements. When she had gotten engaged to Cliff her college friends had thought she was crazy to tie herself down so early, but Caroline had known what she was doing. The problem was that Cliff had not been the right man. Nor had Gerald, although the life Gerald offered was the life she wanted: a big old house filled with dogs and (as soon as Caroline could manage it) children, a stable full of horses, beautiful countryside—a life more gracious than that at the Double Diamond but in essence not all that different.

It was the sort of life Caroline knew she would love, a life close to nature, to earth and grass and animals, a life where people had roots in the land. But the place was no good unless the man was the right one. Caroline had always hoped that one day the man would appear who would provide the complete answer to all her longings. But so far, he hadn’t. So far ...

At this point in her thoughts Caroline pulled herself up short. Good God, surely she couldn’t seriously be regarding Jay Hamilton in that light? There were sexual sparks between them, all right, but that was all. Marriage was a lot more than sex—although the sex had to be there too. It was a terrible pity, she thought sadly, that she hadn’t reacted to Gerald the way she did to Jay. The mixture of Gerald’s personality and Jay’s sex appeal would have been just perfect.

She yawned, suddenly sleepy. Oh well, she thought as she got back into bed, no use stewing about it. She was leaving on Wednesday. She’d go to Maine, she thought, and spend some time with her uncle. He always made her feel better. On that thought Caroline fell asleep.

Caroline awoke quite late the following morning. There was no one in the kitchen when she went downstairs, so she made herself some coffee and toast. Then she wandered down to the barn, which was deserted as well. Dusty was in the corral, and Caroline fetched a halter and lead line and brought him in. She curried and brushed him until he gleamed and then tacked him up. Spots and Danny, the spaniel and German shepherd, sat and watched her the whole time she worked. When she mounted and moved out of the yard, they made to follow her. “No, boys,” she said firmly. “I think you’d better stay here.” They looked dejected but obediently flopped back down, and Caroline walked Dusty down the road toward the end of the valley and the mountains.

She rode for several hours and came back past the big grassy pasture that was a mile or so from the house. It covered several enclosed acres, and the horses were often turned out there to graze. Today, however, there was just one horse and rider inside and a lineup of men on the rails watching. Curious, Caroline rode over to see what was going on.

The men turned when she arrived and then
exchanged glances among themselves. Caroline made the Double Diamond hands distinctly uncomfortable. She was too beautiful, too sophisticated, too out of their ken. They didn’t know how to talk to her. And they sensed Jay’s antagonism as well. So when Caroline offered a friendly smile and asked, “What’s going on?” there was a moment of uneasy silence.

“Jim’s riding Mahogany,” Frank Adams finally said reluctantly.

Caroline’s eyes went to the horse in the field. He was a beautiful dark bay stallion with the most gorgeous sweeping tail Caroline had ever seen. His mane was full too, and as he came down the fence line it billowed out behind his high-held head.

Suddenly he broke away from the fence, veering sharply across the pasture. The man on his back spurred hard and jerked his head around. The stallion galloped a few more paces, stopped, and leaped into the air, corkscrewing. He came down with feet like four steel pistons, and Jim came off, making a beautiful arc through the air onto the lush green grass.

“Well, that’s the third time for Jim,” one of the men said glumly.

Mahogany raced around the pasture a little and then, knowing himself the victor, bent his head and began to graze. Jim got up and started once more toward the horse.

“I’ve never seen him before,” Caroline said reverently. “Does he belong to the ranch?”

“Sure he belongs to the ranch,” one of the men said a little impatiently. “We just brought him in from the range this morning.”

Caroline stared at the stallion. He was quite obviously a thoroughbred. “You put a horse like that out on the range?” Her voice was indicative of her incredulity.

“He’s our stud. All the Double Diamond horses are bred right here on the ranch. Ma’am.”

“I see,” said Caroline quietly. She had been very impressed by the quality of the ranch horses, and now she understood why they all looked so well-bred.

“Hi, Caroline!” It was Gary Rogers running along the fence toward her. “Did you come to watch Mahogany?”

Caroline smiled warmly at the little boy. “Well, I was just on my way home when I saw the crowd. I thought I’d come over to see what was going on.”

“We’re going to put Mahogany in the big race down in Utah,” Gary volunteered. “Jay said we could, if we can get him to behave.”

“What race is that?” Caroline asked.

“At Owen Macdonald’s place,” one of the men volunteered. “Every year he has a race for the local ranch horses.”

Caroline nodded and looked out at the field again. Mahogany was obviously not pleased with the man on his back and kept cutting away from the fence where the cowboy was trying to hold him. Every time he cut in, the cowboy gave him a jab with his spur. The horse did not appreciate this and would rear or buck.

“Jim’s got to get that horse to run straight or there won’t be no race,” one of the men muttered. As he spoke the horse swerved in again and the whole episode with the spur was repeated. Once again the horse bucked his rider onto the turf.

“Well, he’s not going to succeed the way he’s going,” Caroline said tartly. “He’s only making the stallion lose his temper.”

There was a silence as the men on the fence exchanged glances. “You got any suggestions, ma’am?” one man asked then.

“Well, he could stop spurring him for starters,” said Caroline.

“Maybe you’d like to ride the horse?” Frank Adams asked ingenuously.

Caroline stared at him. The men’s attitude was putting her as out of temper as the stallion. “I couldn’t do a worse job,” she said deliberately.

Once again the men exchanged a conspiratorial glance. Then Frank stood up and waved his hand. “Hi, Jim!” he shouted. “Come on over here!”

Caroline watched as the stallion approached their side of the field. He was sweating and throwing his head around, trying to fight the harsh Western bit. Caroline dismounted from Dusty, unceremoniously handed his reins to one of the men, and began to unbuckle her girth.

“You going to change saddles?” the man asked in astonishment.

“Yes.” Caroline pulled her saddle off the gray. She gave the men a cool, appraising gray-green stare. “You’re much closer to the horse with this saddle,” she said and climbed into the corral.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” the man called Jim said nervously. “He’s awfully strong, ma’am.”

Caroline shrugged. “The ground looks fairly soft. I’ll give it a try.” She began to buckle her girth on the stallion.

Caroline knew she would never stay in the saddle if Mahogany started to buck, but she was counting on her own notoriously soothing influence to calm him down. For some reason she had never been able to fathom, horses always found Caroline very relaxing. All kinds of people were always asking her to ride their hunters to calm them down. And, invariably, the nervous horse that had been jiggling along, shying at shadows, turned into a tranquil, easygoing old-timer after Caroline had been in the saddle for fifteen minutes. For some reason, she just got along with a horse. She was not as confident that she would get along with Mahogany as she appeared, however.

She began by walking him across the field on a diagonal. When she reached the other side she turned him and returned along the same line, this time at a trot. The horse’s ears flicked up and back, wondering at the change of weight on his back and the change of riding style. Caroline posted effortlessly, and the horse’s stride began to lengthen. His head came down a little. He was beginning to relax, and when they reached the fence she turned him along it, still posting. Mahogany’s stride lengthened even more. Caroline held him firmly between her legs and let him lean a little on the bit. Without any signal on her part he moved into a canter. He was on the wrong lead, and she managed to pull him back down to a trot. She nudged her outside foot along his side and sat, and he began to canter again, this time on the right lead. “Good boy!” she said. “Good boy!” The horse’s stride lengthened, and Caroline tightened her inside leg, holding him firmly to the rail. A minute later he swerved, cutting into the center of the field, his powerful hindquarters driving him forward.