All About Charming Alice (16 page)

No, not banged, thought Alice. Thudded or stomped. She observed Jace out of the corner of her eye. He looked neither terrified, nor horrified, nor disgusted. He looked … amused?

“Uh … Jace,” she began.

“So this is the famous Get-Together?” A grin tugged the corners of his mouth.

“It’s the social event of the year,” she said, rather apologetically. “You think you’re going to survive this?”

“I think I’m even going to enjoy it.”

He had to be joking. She — Alice — could enjoy this. She lived here. This was her community; these people were her friends — despite the fact that they were often nosy and interfering. But Jace couldn’t feel the same way. That was impossible.

Jace helped her off with her jacket and handed it to a very strange looking Mary Jane Lothar who had got herself up like a badly dressed hatcheck girl from a gangster film of the thirties. Alice tried not to stare. Things were getting worse and worse, and she was certain they weren’t about to stop. If only she could stop agonizing about what Jace would think.

The music slid to a wheezing halt and Sly Grimes, dressed in cowboy shirt, complete with fringes, tight suede trousers and red boots with colored spurs, appeared on stage.

“Well folks, it’s mah-tty fine seeing yawl heah.” Sly Grimes, born and bred in Blake’s Folly seemed to have acquired a deep and very odd southern drawl: his ambitions to be a famous country singer would stop at nothing.

“For this verah special occasion, I’ve written this he-ah song of mine and I’m sure it’ll be something you c’n all appreciate. I’m hoping it’ll reach the top of the chee-arts soon.” Sly Grimes never did claim to be modest. “Song’s called ‘Gonna Love You Till I Die’.”

He turned to the musicians with the glittery smile of a television star. “Okay, boys. Let it roll!”

Roll
was certainly an exaggeration. The band began trudging its way through a dreary sort of dirge. Alice, full of misgivings, winced.
Damn Rose and her silly ideas
.

“Uh … Jace? Look, Sly Grimes isn’t exactly a pro. Not yet, anyway.”

“No. He isn’t,” Jace confirmed as Sly attempted a high note and failed — utterly — to even approach it. However, as if to show that where there’s a will there’s a way, a few couples made their way onto the dance floor and began to shuffle around, searching for a beat. Two of the dancers were Rose Badger and Lance Potter. Lance was looking down at Rose as if he’d just reached Nirvana.

“Nice to see you here.” Alice felt a hearty tap on her shoulder. Jane Grimes, proud mother of Sly, was dressed to the hilt — as became the mother of the Star of the evening — in a bizarre concoction of pink net. She stared unabashedly at Jace. “This here your new lodger?” The very special emphasis on the word “lodger” made her meaning unmistakable.

“Yes,” answered Alice coolly. “My lodger, Jace Constant. And he’s from Chicago and he’s a writer, and an historian, and yes, he’s been fixing up the house.”
Might as well make sure local gossip got all the facts right and in the proper order,
she thought defiantly.

“Hear you went to Lucy’s for a meal out,” said Jane with a grin of satisfaction.

Alice almost hissed with exasperation. “How on earth did you know about that? Really, this town is too much!”

“Tony’s uncle’s nephew Greg happened to be out that way and saw you both go in there.”

“And of course he reported in as soon as possible,” responded Alice darkly. Now she dared steal a look at Jace and she saw that the corners of his mouth were twitching, as if he were making a supreme effort to repress a grin.

What was there to grin about
, Alice wondered morosely. She could just imagine Jace describing this social event to a group of sneering Chicago sophisticates. She could hear them laughing now. This had been a mistake — a really terrible mistake. Perhaps if she got him out of here as quickly as possible, she could reduce the damage.

“Listen Jace, we can leave if you want. You must think this is just awful. I mean, compared to what you must get up to in Chicago … ”

“Forget Chicago. Comparing Blake’s Folly to Chicago is like comparing an earth worm to a rattler.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked defensively.

“Nothing to get offended about,” Jace said, a mysterious half-smile playing over his wonderful mouth. “Earth worms and rattlers are all very nice and useful creatures. Would you care to dance?” The change of subject was too abrupt for Alice to be able to muster up any biting answer. And now that Jace’s fingers were closing over hers, now that he was pulling her smoothly into his arms, biting answers had absolutely no chance whatsoever.

Dancing with Jace. Well, wasn’t this something. Her heart was thundering wildly in her ears and all her attention was focused on the feel of his arms tightening around her, molding her body to his own without once ever losing step to the music, such as it was. Enveloped in his warmth, surrounded by the wonderful male scent of him … it was lovely. As if sensing how she felt, he pulled her closer still. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his shoulder and let her body soften. Succumb. She felt his warm breath over the top of her hair.

It was heavenly. Even better, it was pure paradise. The words rolled through her head and she wondered what it would be like to have this forever.

Which was about the stupidest thought she could have
, Alice stiffened, pulled back and felt his eyes upon her.

“What’s the matter now?” His voice teased.

“Uh … ” she faltered, her throat dry. “You were holding me so tightly.” It was an idiotic thing to say.

“Didn’t it feel good?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He pulled her back tightly against him again. “Then stop fighting.”

Who wanted to fight?
“All right.” She was aware of the tight, sinewy strength of his body, the power in the arms that were locking her to him, her own excruciating awareness of him.
Let the music never end. Let this feeling go on forever and ever.

Which was impossible. Even Sly Grimes’s doubtful talent couldn’t create something endless. “Gonna Love You Till I Die” expired painfully and the band now launched into “Oh Susanna” … or rather, the accordion and piano did. The snare drum had given up the ghost entirely and the violin seemed to be struggling with a long-dead and buried “Turkey in the Straw.”

Jace led Alice off the floor and disappeared into the crowd in search of refreshments. She stood there, smiling irrepressibly. She could still feel the heat of his body, feel his nearness, as if they were somehow connected by an invisible elastic band.

“Well there, Alice.” A familiar voice sliced into her reverie and Alice’s heart plummeted. She knew that voice all right. Would recognize it anywhere. This complication was the last thing she needed. She turned toward the voice with dread.

“Oh, Brad. Hello,” she said weakly and with a definite lack of enthusiasm.

“Didn’t know I’d find you here tonight,” said Brad. He was grinning lustfully.

“Didn’t know I’d find you here either,” answered Alice dismally.

“How’s tricks?”

She winced. Perhaps she could get away, locate Jace, make some excuse so they could leave immediately. Before Jace and Brad found themselves face-to-face. But the idea came too late. Jace was back by her side and handing her a frosty glass. She saw Brad staring at him, giving him the once-over, just the way a cattleman would size up his competitor’s bull.

“Uh … Jace … uh … ” Alice began.

“Pleased to meet you, Jace.” Brad thrust one hand forward. “Name’s Brad.”

“Pleased to meet you too, Brad,” said Jace smoothly. “You must be Brad, the rancher.”

“That’s me, all right.”

“Alice was telling me about you. How are things out at Two Posts?”

“Busy, what with vaccinations and all,” answered Brad, obviously pleased to have been asked about his favorite subject.

“Vaccination time, is it?”

“Yep. Gotta be careful with cattle. Gotta keep in mind the health of your herd. What you need’s a good, dependable refrigerator for your vaccines and animal medications. That’s not all. You know the mistake a lot of ranchers make?”

“Tell me.”

“They draw up the meds with a clean needle but then, when they get ready to vaccinate, they don’t switch to another needle for the injection. Inject the animal, stick the same needle back into the bottle, and you contaminate the medication. Days later, same bottle no longer has any effect.”

Alice ferociously chewed her bottom lip. There had to be a way out of this situation and out of this place.

“I’m a pretty careful guy,” Brad continued. “Keep a vet box with syringes, needles, calving and breeding equipment, heat mount detectors, tattoo and ear tagging tools, thermometers, the works, and … ”

“Well, there you are, the two of you. Or should I say three?” The new voice was Rose’s.
Rose, lovely and adorable. Rose to the rescue
.
If anyone could save this situation, it would be Rose. Alice could have kissed her with relief. At her side, Lance Potter was still staring at her in a besotted way. Rose always did manage to do that to men.

“Brad, you’re just the man I want to see,” exclaimed Rose. “I’ve a question to ask you about cattle breeds.”

Rose interested in cattle breeds? Since when?
Even Brad could see through that one, couldn’t he? No, he couldn’t. Rose was fluttering her eyelashes up at him and he fell right into the honey trap.

“Fire away,” said Brad, a blissful grin on his face.

“I think I need a bit of air,” murmured Alice, thankful for the chance to escape.

“You can have quite a lot of it, if you want,” said Jace. Grinning smugly, he led her toward the back of the room where doors were open to the cool night.

The plain stretched out in front of them, whitened by the light of the moon. Far in the distance, hills lurked, dark, mysterious. Somewhere on the main road Alice could hear the sound of a truck changing gears. She felt wretched and terribly uncomfortable. She knew she had to give some sort of explanation.

“It’s turned cool,” Jace said to fill the silence.

“Jace, it’s about Brad … ”

“What about Brad?” There was a light, glancing note in his voice. Was he laughing at her dilemma? “He’s everything you said he was. Tall, lean, handsome.”

Alice shrugged. “But he’s not … well … the man in my life.”

“Of course he isn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!” She was miffed at having been caught out.

“The way you look at him, for one. With bored indifference. You don’t look at a lover or a fiancé in that way. And your voice: it lost that caressing, soft note.”

Alice swallowed hard. “What caressing note?”

“The note I hear when you’re alone with me,” he said softly.

What could she say to that?
Nothing
. Her own body had betrayed her. As easy to read as a kid’s book, that’s what she was. She stared out at the desert night.

“Also, there’s another thing,” said Jace. “A very obvious thing.”

“What?” she asked, waiting for the worst.

Jace chuckled. “Brad’s a cattle rancher.”

“So?”

“For heaven’s sake, Alice, what do you and a cattle rancher have to talk about? You’re a vegetarian. You probably don’t even kill mosquitoes. Brad breeds cattle to sell for beef.”

The game was up. She knew it, he knew it. “I had to invent him,” she confessed miserably.

“Why?”

“To protect myself. Against you.”

Jace was silent.

If only she could read the expression on his face
,
Alice thought with desperation. Then she’d have a clue as to what he was thinking.

“And now?” His voice was so gentle. “You still want to protect yourself?”

“No. I’d much rather trust you,” she answered simply.

They headed home through the shadows. There was no wind and far off, in the hills, the cries of coyotes filled the night. Through the corner of her eye, Alice observed Jace’s face. He was off somewhere distant, she noticed. Off in a world where she had no place. Was he even thinking about her? Was he aware that she was there?

She searched desperately around for some normal topic of conversation and didn’t find one.
Well, just let the silence continue
,
she decided.
And stop wondering what will happen next.

They stopped just as they turned into the front yard and she watched Jace surveying the pile of wooden boards Pa Handy had delivered. It seemed as if a hundred years had passed since then. A hundred years and a big change in her awareness.

“I’m going to have to find time to continue with my home improvement scheme.” She heard him chuckle softly and her heart skipped. That meant he was going to be around a while, didn’t it?

“Actually, I was thinking of buying some paint and getting started on protecting all of this before next winter comes around.” Her hand waved airily at the faded building.

“You paint the house?” He sounded surprised.

She turned to him defiantly, her eyes challenging. “And why do you think I’m not capable of doing that? You may not believe this but the inside of the house looks the way it does because of me. When I first moved here, this was a wreck. I plastered, painted, and pulled the place together. Or, at least, the inside of it.”

He threw up his hands in mock defeat but his voice was placating. “Alice, I didn’t really mean to doubt you.”

“Yes you did,” she answered stubbornly. She turned, her eyes blazing, and surveyed the house. Even in the dark she could see the peeling paint around the windows, the shabbiness. Her vexation vanished as quickly as it had come. She could see why he’d said what he had. What she didn’t want to explain was that it took a certain amount of money to keep a place like this up. Money was just not one of the things that came easily in Blake’s Folly.

“What color?” His voice startled her out of her reflections.

She blinked. Normal conversation. That was all she had to participate in. She should feel relieved. “It’s always been yellow. I like the idea of a bright yellow house. And dark blue window frames.” She grinned ruefully. “I suppose that’s a little odd.”