An Independent Wife (2 page)

They had been acquainted for years, as far back as Sallie could remember. Rhy's aunt had lived next door to the Jeromes, and as Rhy had been her favorite nephew it was nothing unusual for him to stop by at least once a week when he was growing up. The visits became fewer when he left town, but he never let too long go by without calling in on his aunt. By then he was beginning to make a name for himself as a reporter, and he had been hired by a television station in New York City. Occasionally he would walk across to the white picket fence that separated the two houses and talk to Sallie's father, and if Sallie or her mother were about he would speak to them, sometimes lightly teasing Sallie about growing up so fast.

Shortly after she turned eighteen Sallie's parents were killed in a car crash and she lived alone in the small, tidy house she had inherited. It was paid for and the insurance money was enough to keep her going until she had recovered from her grief enough to begin looking for a job, so she let the days drift by, dreading the time when she would have to go out on her own, She became closer to Aunt Tessie, Rhy's aunt, for each lived alone. Aunt Tessie died in her sleep just two months after the death of Sallie's parents and Rhy returned home for the funeral.

He was twenty-eight, devilishly good-looking, with a dangerous quality about him that took her breath away. He was a man who lived on his nerve and his wits and thoroughly enjoyed it, and he'd just been snapped up by one of the major television networks, working as a foreign correspondent. He saw Sallie at his aunt's funeral and called the next day to ask her out. She had thought then that he must be bored, used to as he was to so much glamour and excitement, but she had known when she looked in the mirror that he wouldn't find any glamour or excitement with her. She was short, pretty enough in a quiet way, but a bit on the plump side. Her short mop of rich, dark hair .vas a good color, dark sable, but it lacked style and did nothing for her small face with its round cheeks. But Rhy Baines had asked her out and she went, her heart thumping half in fear and half in exhilaration at actually being alone with such a gorgeous, sexy man.

Rhy was a sophisticated adult; he probably meant nothing by the kiss he pressed lightly on her lips when he said good-night after that first date. He didn't even put his arms around her but merely tilted her face up with a finger under her chin. To Sallie, however, it was an explosion of her senses and she had no idea how to control it or mask her response to him. Simply, openly, she had melted against him, her soft mouth fused to his. Long minutes later, when he dragged his head back, he was breathing raggedly and, to her surprise, he asked her out again.

On their third date only his self-control preserved her innocence. Sallie was helpless against her attraction to him, having fallen head over heels in love, yet she was taken by surprise when he abruptly asked her to marry him. She had expected him to take her to bed, not to propose, and she humbly accepted. They were married the next week.

For six glorious days she was in ecstasy. He was a marvelous lover, patient with her inexperience, tender in his passion. He seemed amazed at the fiery passion he could arouse in his quiet little wife and for the first few days of their married life they devoted themselves to lovemaking. Then came that phone call, and before she knew it Rhy was throwing some clothing in his suitcase and rushing out the door with only a hasty kiss for her and a terse "I'll call you, baby," thrown at her over his shoulder.

He was gone for just over two weeks and she discovered by watching the evening news that he was in South America, where a particularly bloody revolution had slaughtered just about everyone in the previous government. Sallie spent the entire time he was gone crying herself to sleep at night and vomiting up her meals whenever she tried to eat. Just the thought of Rhy in danger made her cringe.

She had just found him after the nightmare of losing her parents and she adored him. She wouldn't be able to bear it if anything happened to him.

He returned looking brown and fit and Sallie screamed her rage and fear at him. He retaliated and the quarrel that followed kept them from speaking for two days. It was sex that brought them together again, his surging appetite for her wildly responsive little body and her helpless yielding to him. That became the pattern of their marriage, with him gone for longer and longer periods even though she promptly became pregnant.

They had even quarreled over her pregnancy, with Rhy bitterly accusing her of becoming pregnant deliberately in an attempt to make him stay at home. She knew he didn't want children just now and that he had no intention of changing his job. Sallie hadn't even attempted to defend herself, for even worse than being accused of becoming pregnant as part of some scheme was the shameful knowledge that she had been too ignorant to take precautions. She had simply never thought of it and she knew that Rhy would be disgusted with her if he knew the truth.

When she was six months pregnant Rhy was wounded in a border skirmish between two developing African nations and he came home on a stretcher. She had thought that his close brush with death would bring him to his senses and for once she hadn't raged and nagged at him when he returned; she was too elated at the thought of having him with her permanently. Within a month, however, he was gone on another assignment even though he hadn't fully recovered from his wound, and he was still gone when she went into premature labor. The network brought him home, but by the time he arrived she was already out of the hospital and their stillborn son had been buried.

He stayed with her until she was recovered physically from giving birth, but she was grief stricken at losing her baby and bilter with him because he had been absent during the crisis. When he left again the atmosphere between them was still cold and silent. Perhaps she should have realized then how indifferent Rhy had become to her, but it still came as a shock that he could so easily leave her forever, as he did on his next trip home. She had returned from buying groceries and found him sprawled on the sofa in the living room, his suitcase by the door where he had dropped it. His face was drawn with weariness, but his charcoal gray eyes had still held that characteristic bite as he looked her up and down, his manner one of waiting.

Unable to stem the words that jumped to her lips, Sallie began berating him for his inconsiderate behavior, his total lack of feeling for her after the trial she had undergone, the pain she had suffered. If he truly loved her he would get another job, one that would let him stay with her when she needed him so badly. In the middle of this, Rhy got to his feet and picked up his suitcase. As he walked out the door he had said sarcastically, "When you think you're woman enough for me, give me a call."

She hadn't seen him since.

At first she had been devastated. She had cried for days and leapt for the telephone every time it rang.

Checks arrived from him every week for her support, but there were never any notes included. It was as if he would do his duty and support her, but had no interest in seeing her or talking to her. She wasn't woman enough for him,

At last, desperately, knowing only that her life wasn't worth living without Rhy, Sallie decided to make herself into a woman who was woman enough for Rhy Baines. With feverish determination she enrolled in the local college and set about gaining the knowledge that would transform her into a more sophisticated person. She signed up for language classes and crash courses in every craft she could think of, forcing herself out of her shyness. She got a job, a low-paying job as a clerk at the local newspaper office, but it was her first job and it was a start. With that paycheck every week, her very own paycheck, came something she could hardly recognize at first, but which became larger with each succeeding check: a sense of self-reliance.

She found that she was doing well in her language classes, was, in fact, at the top of her class. She had a natural aptitude for words and languages and she enrolled in a creative writing class. The time that this consumed forced her to give up her courses in crafts, but her interest in writing grew by leaps and bounds and she didn't miss puttering about with paints and straw.

Like a snowball, her forced activities grew in size and scope until she didn't have an idle hour in her day. Once she began making friends she discovered that it was easy, that she liked being with people.

Slowly she began to emerge from the shell that had encased her for all of her life.

With all of her activities, Sallie was seldom still and often forgot meals. Pounds melted from her petite frame and she had to replace her entire wardrobe. She went from slightly plump to almost too thin, and as her face slimmed the exotic bone work of her skull was revealed. Without the roundness of her cheeks to balance them her dark blue eyes became huge in her face and underneath them her high, chiseled cheekbones gave her an almost Eastern quality. She had been attractive before, but now she became something more, a young woman who was striking and unusual. Never classically lovely, not Sallie, but now she stood out in a crowd. As her hair grew she simply pulled it back out of her way, not bothering to keep it cut, and the sable-colored mass began to stream down her back in a thick mane.

As she changed physically her entire manner changed. Her self-confidence soared; she became outgoing and found that she had a keen n-dnd and an appreciation of the absurdities of life that made people seek her out. She was enjoying herself, and thoughts of Rhy became fewer and fewer.

They had been separated for almost a year when she realized that as she had grown up, she had also grown away. The weekly check from Rhy was like a revelation, for as she stared at his bold, sprawling signature on the check she was stunned to find that the crippling pain was gone. Not only that, if Rhy came back to her now it would curtail the exciting new life she'd built for herself and she didn't want that. She had made herself over, made herself into a woman who was woman enough for Rhy Bainesand now she found that she didn't need him. She no longer needed to live through him; she had herself.

It was like being released from prison. The knowledge that she was self-sufficient and independent was like a heady wine, making her giddy. Now she understood why Rhy had put his job over her; like him, she had become hooked on excitement, and she wondered how he had lived with her as long as he had.

With a great sense of relief she mailed Rhy's check back to his address at the network, enclosing a note explaining that she had a job and was trying to support herself, therefore his support was no longer needed, though she did appreciate the thought. That was the last communication between them and that had been rather one-sided as Rhy had never replied to her note. The checks had simply ceased to arrive.

Then fate stepped into Sallie's life. A bridge she was driving across collapsed, and though she was far enough across that her car didn't slide into the river below, several behind her weren't so lucky.

Without really thinking about what she was doing she helped in the rescue of the people who had survived the plunge into the river and obtained interviews with everyone involved. Afterwards she went to the newspaper office where she worked, typed up a report of the accident, including her own colorful eyewitness description, and gave it to the editor. It was printed, and she was given a new job as a reporter.

Now, at the age of twenty-six, she had completed her degree and was a reporter for one of the better weekly news magazines and her zest for new experiences had not waned. Now she fully understood why danger hadn't kept Rhy from his job, for she enjoyed

the danger, the heart-pounding excitement of taking off in a helicopter while ground troops sprayed automatic fire at the aircraft, the exhilaration of coming down in a plane with only one good engine, the satisfaction of a difficult job well-done. She had rented out her house and now lived in a neat two-room apartment in New York, a mere stopping place between assignments. She had no plants and no pets, for who would take care of them while she was halfway around the world? She had no romantic interests, for she was never in one place for long, but she had scores of friends and acquaintances.

No, she reflected sleepily as she finally began to doze off, she didn't want Rhy back in her life now. He would only interfere with the things she enjoyed. But, thinking about it, she didn't think that he would care what she did if by some chance he did recognize her, and that wasn't likely. After all, he hadn't thought about her in seven years. Why should he start now?

Sallie stood before her mirror and studied the photograph she held in her hand of herself at the age of eighteen. Then she looked back at her reflection and studied the differences. The most obvious change was that now she had cheekbones instead of cheeks. The hair, too, of course, grown from a short mop that barely covered her ears into the thick braid that hung to her waist. The only thing that hadn't changed was her eyes, large, dark blue eyes, However, if she wore dark glasses whenever she thought she might run into Rhy she could continue indefinitely to keep her identity from him.

She had thought about it from all angles and decided not to rely on Rhy's good nature, which was a chancy thing at best. Rhy was hair-triggered, volatile, never predictable. The best thing to do was to avoid him whenever possible and try to keep Greg from introducing her to her own husband as an old friend from his hometown!

Rhy was supposed to arrive that morning; the news had been broken yesterday that the magazine had been sold to Rhydon Baines, who had resigned as a network foreign correspondent and would hereafter devote his time and talents to the publishing of news, except for occasional documentary specials. The entire building had hummed with the news. Veteran reporters had suddenly become uneasy, checking their credits, reviewing their work and comparing it to Rhy's direct, slashing style of reporting. And if Sallie had heard one comment from an excited woman about how handsome Rhydon Baines was she had heard a hundred. Even women who were happily married were thrilled to be working with Rhy.