Blue Mist of Morning (5 page)

"Please don't worry about it," Anne insisted, then smiled
understandingly. "I have two younger sisters myself. One of them is
eighteen, and sometimes she would try the patience of a saint. Besides,
I remember what it is to be eighteen—life can seem extremely
complicated."

"How very old and wise you sound, Miss Fairchild," he
said, his expression softening as he gave her a teasing smile. "And how
long ago was it that you were eighteen?"

"Long enough," she answered pertly. "In today's world, a
person learns a great deal in five years. So just give Jenny time.
Maybe whatever is bothering her tonight will soon be forgotten."

"I'm afraid it might not be so simple," he said
cryptically, then escorted Anne down the hall to her room and opened
her door. "I'll have Ellie call you at about seven in the morning.
Goodnight, Anne."

As he turned to walk away, she gave in to a sudden
compulsion and laid her hand on his forearm. Even when she felt his
muscles tauten beneath her fingers and a shiver of apprehension trickle
along her spine, she had to speak up. "This is none of my business, Mr.
Manning, but… well, I noticed that Jenny seemed to be a
little impressed with Kirt Callen, and I'm sure you wouldn't want her
to… Oh, you know what I'm saying. He's such a…"

When she didn't allow herself to finish what would have
been a very uncomplimentary description, Ty laughed softly. "I know
exactly what you're saying and you're right. I'll see to it that Jenny
stays away from him. Perhaps I should send her to you for lessons on
how to handle a man like Kirt. You seemed quite proficient at putting
him in his place at dinner tonight." A satisfied smile hovered on her
softly shaped lips. As his eyes darkened abruptly and moved slowly over
her upturned face, they lingered on the wayward strand of hair that
brushed her temple. Almost involuntarily, his hand came up. His fingers
slipped beneath the wispy tendril, lifting it out slightly.

"You just can't keep it confined, can you?" he asked, his
voice low and unusually husky. "I've seen you tuck it back a million
times in the past two weeks, but it always falls back to graze your
cheek."

"It's a nuisance," Anne breathed, her heart beating with
dizzying rapidity. "I don't think I'll ever get it to stay where it
belongs."

"Then stop trying," he commanded softly, his eyes holding
hers as he gently lowered the silken tendril, then released it.

As he moved his hand away, his warm fingers brushed
lightly against Anne's cheek, and it took all of her self-control not
to react to the unexpected touch. His fingers almost seemed to burn her
skin. Instead, she simply murmured goodnight, stepped into her room and
closed the door behind her. Her hand shook slightly as she reached up
to touch the loose strand of honey-gold hair. For several long seconds,
she stood by the door immobile, recalling the blueness of Ty's eyes,
the tan smoothness of his skin and the strong contours of his lean
face. Then, regaining her common sense, she shook her head and berated
herself for such foolish thoughts. Ty might be acting a little more
friendly, but he was still her boss and that was all he would ever be.
She meant to make certain of that.

The next morning, Anne was awake early. Before Ellie could
come to call her, she was dressed and downstairs, planning on a quick
walk before breakfast. After getting her coat from the foyer closet,
she slipped her small hands into brown suede gloves, opened the back
door and stepped outside onto the snow-covered terrace.

Though the sky was still overcast and gray, the snow was
falling more slowly. Fat flakes fluttered down on the silent
countryside. During the night, freezing rain had encased the shrubs and
branches of trees in glittering ice and had formed a crust on the
carpet of snow. Anne's boots crunched through the surface as she walked
through a stand of bare oaks, their large trunks draped by drifting
snow. Taking deep breaths of the fresh clean air, she wandered farther
from the house to the edge of a wood that stretched out for some
distance, then came to an abrupt halt as she spied a deer several yards
ahead, foraging for what food he could find at the base of a tall pine.
Perhaps he sensed her presence because he raised his head and stared at
her, his soft brown eyes conveying more curiosity than fear. Anne stood
perfectly still, admiring the buck's handsome antlers as he looked her
over for several moments. When he apparently decided she meant to do
him no harm and began to search around the roots of the tree for food
again, she smiled and continued to watch him.

Suddenly, he jerked his head up and, with a powerful leap,
bounded away through the woods. Wondering what had frightened him off,
Anne glanced around curiously, then grinned as she saw the reason for
the buck's abrupt flight. Loping toward her from the house was a great
golden dog, its massive paws crunching lightly through the crusty snow
and kicking up soft clouds of white. Coming to a dead stop at the edge
of the wood near Anne, the dog stood at attention, watching the buck
disappear among the trees. After issuing one deep-throated bark that
sounded more playful than menacing, the golden dog turned its attention
to Anne. Its big tail began a steady wagging, swishing across the icy
surface of the snow as it unhesitatingly sniffed the gloved hand Anne
extended.

Though she knew that the animal was big and powerfully
built, Anne knelt down and proceeded to make a lifelong friend by
scratching behind the silken ears. The dog sighed happily, and a
distinct dreaminess softened its black eyes as it moved its head slowly
back and forth beneath Anne's ministering fingers. When Anne stopped
the scratching, the dog inexplicably turned around, then gazed back
expectantly. It was obvious the animal wanted something Anne was not
giving, but unable to interpret that longing gaze, Anne spread her
hands in a helpless gesture.

"I don't know what it is you want. Sorry," she said aloud,
then gave a soft gasp of surprise when someone directly behind her
spoke. Still on her knees, she twisted around and stared up at Ty, who
stood towering above her.

"Goldie tends to be very demanding," he said, smiling
pleasantly. "She is politely telling you that she now expects her rump
to be scratched, too."

Anne laughed and, after stroking Goldie's sleek-coated
flanks, gave her the requested scratching. Once that was finished, the
dog gave a puppyish wiggle, greeting Ty with the uninhibited affection
animals give exclusively to their owners. After sprawling down in the
snow and rolling around a bit to express her joy, Goldie leaped up to
dash back and forth in front of Anne and Ty, burrowing her soft black
nose into the snow, obviously issuing an invitation to play.

"She's a lovely dog," Anne commented, smiling at her
antics. "And so friendly."

"And full of energy," Ty added, cupping Anne's elbow in
one ungloved hand. "Let's walk. She'll run on ahead of us and expend
some of that excess energy."

There was little wind, so the cold was not unbearable as
Anne and Ty walked along the edge of the trees down a gentle incline.
When they reached a narrow brook that crossed their path, Ty
automatically took Anne's hand to help her across. To her surprise, he
didn't release her and a moment later, she was glad he hadn't. Somehow,
she managed to hook the toe of her boot on a fallen tree limb,
half-buried in the snow, and was unable to regain her balance. Ty's
lean fingers tightened around her hand, while his free arm quickly
encircled her waist, and suddenly she found herself being held very
close against him. Instinctively, she had reached up to grasp his
shoulder and her cheek brushed his coat. Inhaling the rich, clean scent
of leather, she looked up at him, feeling a most idiotic desire to
touch her gloved fingers against the strong tanned column of his throat
where it rose above his black turtleneck sweater.

Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat, as his arm
around her drew her nearer. She could feel his warmth and the taut
hardness of his muscular thighs straining against her own. Her eyes
darted up and met the piercing, compelling blue of his.

He said nothing. After releasing her, they walked on,
though he did catch her hand in his again. More than a little
disconcerted by the physical awareness that had begun to develop
between them, Anne tried to ease the tension by commenting lightly,
"You really must think I'm terribly inept. Yesterday, I couldn't drive,
and today, I can't walk."

"I've just been watching the tow truck pull the Mercedes
out of the ditch. I thought you'd be glad to know there's very little
damage," Ty said, his strong fingers curving more securely around her
hand. "We'll be able to drive it back to Alexandria."

"You and Mike will be able to drive it back to
Alexandria," Anne said emphatically. "But not me. I don't intend to
ever drive any vehicle more expensive than my old rattletrap,
secondhand jalopy, not that I think you'd ever ask me to be your
chauffeur again."

"As my secretary, you undoubtedly will have to drive the
Mercedes again," Ty said, his tone cool and strictly professional once
more. "And I did tell you that I don't blame you for the accident, so I
think it's time to let the subject drop. Agreed? If you insist on
apologizing again and again, I'll have to retaliate by repeatedly
saying I'm sorry for Jenny's rudeness last night."

"Oh, but I told you that I didn't expect any apology from
you," Anne insisted, looking up into his lean brown face. "I could see
she was upset about some-thing. And if you don't mind my saying so, she
seemed a bit annoyed at you. Of course, spats between brothers and
sisters are inevitable."

"This isn't your ordinary spat though," Ty began softly.
"Her resentment toward me is just her way of hiding feelings that are
far more painful. You know our father died last year in a boating
accident. He and Jenny were very close. Actually, he treated her like a
princess, and when he died, she just couldn't cope with life without
him. She began having problems in school and with her friends.
Unfortunately, Mother was in no condition to help her because she, too,
was devastated by losing Dad. With Jenny, she either burst into tears
or threatened to turn her over her knee, so I had to step in. But I'm
afraid my sister doesn't care for me in the role of a surrogate father.
In her mind, I'm only a brother, so I have no right to even give her
advice, much less make rules."

Anne nodded sympathetically, sad memories darkening her
gray eyes. "It's so difficult to lose your father. My dad died when I
was seventeen, so I know what Jenny's feeling. But she should remember
that you've lost your father, too. Perhaps you could suggest your
mother remind her of that fact."

"Mother's gone to France to stay with a friend for a few
months, because, frankly, she and Jenny were fighting incessantly.
Jenny has decided that since she no longer has a father, she must be an
adult. She tries to act far more sophisticated than she is. Maybe she's
trying to transfer her unhappiness to everybody else by being
rebellious, but, of course, she's hurting herself more than anyone
else."

"I'm sure she'll realize that soon."

"I hope so," Ty said rather doubtingly. "But she can be a
very obstinate girl, and I think sometimes she wants to avoid accepting
the fact that our father's gone." His expression was pensive as he
looked down at Anne. "You were her age when your father died. Did you
go through a period of rebellion?"

Gazing at the high rolling hills in the distance, veiled
by the blue translucent haze that gave the Blue Ridge its name, Anne
shook her head. "We all were terribly hurt when he died, of course, but
our lives changed so drastically that we really didn't have time to
rebel against what had happened. We were forced to cope. Our farm was
mortgaged, even our house, so Mom sold the land. But that still left
the mortgage payments on the house that had to be met. She went back to
work as a kindergarten teacher. And although I had been accepted at a
college, I went to business school instead and got a job. So, maybe in
a way, I was luckier than Jenny. My whole life changed and I had to
adjust to it."

Ty's eyes narrowed and he searched her face for a long
moment. "I think you're being too kind. Jenny should be grateful that
her lifestyle hasn't changed. At least she has no financial worries."

"She takes financial security for granted. So did I, until
it was gone," Anne explained quietly. "Don't be too hard on her. She is
just a child."

"So were you, when your father died."

"I grew up fast, but probably only because I had to," Anne
admitted candidly. "I still miss my father, but I discovered very soon
that life has to go on. And Jenny will realize that, too, in time. Just
be patient with her."

Ty stopped by the line of spruce trees that surrounded his
house. His fingers tightened round Anne's hand, and he turned her to
face him. "And if everything hadn't changed for you and you could have
gone to college, what were you planning to do with your life?"

Anne suddenly grinned. "Maybe I shouldn't say. For some
reason, people seemed surprised when I mention that I once wanted to
attend medical school and go into research."

Ty didn't smile. "I'm sorry you weren't able to do it."

"Oh, don't be. I try to believe that everything works out
for the best in the end," she answered honestly, her tone matching the
low seriousness of his. "My mother and my sisters and I are all very
close now, because we went through a difficult time together, and our
relationship is very precious to me."

Ty's gaze held hers. "And so you're happy?"

Anne hesitated, searching her own consciousness. "I'm
mainly content, but I have many happy moments," she finally answered
rather evasively. Then she smiled. "Like now. At the moment, I'm happy
because snow always makes me happy." She looked out over the rolling
carpet of white that sloped down a gentle incline to the far side of
the house. "But I could really be ecstatic, if we had a sled to ride
down that hill. It's been ages since I've been sledding."