Foxfire Light (19 page)

During the subsequent pause, Joanna was conscious of the firm possession of the arm curved around her. She liked the feel of it, the implication of belonging to him.

“Yes, Joanna is here.” Linc passed the receiver to her.

She took it with every intention of quickly getting rid of the caller. “Hello.” Her tone was aloof, designed to discourage conversation.

“Joanna, what is going on there? Who was that man who answered the phone?” her mother's voice demanded.

She went rigid with surprise, stiffening selfconsciously in Linc's possessive hold. “Mother! I wasn't expecting you to call.” It had been the farthest thing from her mind when the phone had rung.

“I had that impression when the man answered the phone.” There was a quality of disdain in her voice. “You haven't told me who he is yet?”

“That was Linc. Linc Wilder.” Joanna quickly added his full name and shifted out of the loose hold of his arm. Even though her mother couldn't see the casually intimate embrace, she had been influenced by other times when her mother had come along on similar scenes.

“I'm sure Reece probably has mentioned him to you,” Joanna continued and felt a sudden chill in the air. Her side glance caught the coolness of Linc's expression as he quietly studied her.

Turning aside, he wandered to the fireplace and lit a cigarette. Her glance followed him, then fell when he looked back. He was making her feel small for not claiming any personal relationship with him. It wasn't a comfortable sensation.

“I swear I will never understand why Reece vacations in such a godforsaken spot, so removed from all the conveniences,” her mother decried her brother-in-law's choice. “That drawling hillbilly can't provide the kind of stimulating company Reece can find here in L. A.—or anywhere else for that matter.”

Joanna bristled in defense of the Ozarks, the cabin, and Linc. “You can't know that. You've never met him, Mother. And Linc is here so we could plan the menu for Sunday's barbeque we're having for Reece and Rachel.”

“Who is Rachel?” The question was quick and immediate.

“Haven't you heard?” Joanna asked with false innocence, fully aware there hadn't been time
for her mother to be informed about the engagement.

“Heard what?” There was impatience in the voice on the line.

“I think I should let Reece tell you himself,” Joanna replied.

“Tell me what? Joanna, will you please stop being so mysterious and tell me what is going on out there?” her mother demanded.

“Reece is engaged.” She knew she was dropping a bombshell so she wasn't surprised by the explosion.

“Engaged? That's absurd! To whom?” There was a mixture of doubt and challenge.

“To Rachel Parmelee.”

“Who is Rachel Parmelee?” It sounded like a request for her pedigree.

“She owns a retail store here in the area,” Joanna explained. “I think you'll like her, Mother. She is a lovely, intelligent woman—a widow.” The last was added in all seriousness.

“She is from the Ozarks?”

“Yes.”

“Why on earth is Reece marrying her?” Her mother still didn't quite believe it. “He's been a bachelor all these years. Why should he get married now?”

“Mother, when you see them together, you won't have to ask that question,” Joanna assured her.

“I have known Reece considerably longer than you have, Joanna,” her mother retorted dryly. “There have been countless affairs over the
years. The instant the newness wears off, Reece casts them aside. He has never been so foolish as to become engaged before.” She altered her tactic to inquire, “When is this supposed marriage to take place?”

“I don't remember a date being mentioned.” Which was true, but something kept her from relating to her mother how soon Reece intended to marry Rachel. “You'll have to ask Reece.”

“I will.” It was a very definite reply. “Where is he?”

“With Rachel. I'm not sure what time he'll be back,” Joanna admitted. “Why did you call, Mother? You never have said.”

“I haven't heard from you. You haven't written or called. Naturally I wanted to find out what was going on there. There seems to be a great deal more than I expected,” she replied, more than a little miffed that she hadn't been kept more closely informed.

Joanna slid a glance at Linc and watched him take a drag on the cigarette, then toss the butt in the charred-black hearth of the fireplace. As he turned his head to look at her, she dropped her gaze.

“I don't mean to seem rude, Mother, but I can't talk any longer. I do have company,” she reminded her. “I'm sure Reece will be calling you in the next day or two anyway.”

“Your message is very clear. I won't keep you from entertaining your guest.” There was an acid trace of sarcasm in her reply. “Goodbye, Joanna.”

“Goodbye.” Her hand was wrapped tightly around the receiver, her knuckles showing white as she hung up the phone.

Why did she let her mother do this to her? She glanced toward the fireplace and encountered Linc's steady gaze. Hooking her thumbs in the loops of her jeans, Joanna wandered in that direction.

“That was my mother on the phone,” she explained.

“So I gathered,” he murmured dryly. “I had the impression she wasn't pleased to hear about the engagement.”

“Yes, well, it came as quite a surprise to her,” she admitted, a little defensive about her mother's reaction. “Naturally she was a little stunned.”

“What's your mother like?” Linc studied her with a vaguely absent look.

That wasn't an easy question to answer. “She's . . . sophisticated, beautiful. . . very self-confident . . . and”—Joanna paused, one corner of her mouth lifting at a wry angle—“and determined to have her own way in nearly everything.” She looked at him. “Why?”

But Linc didn't directly respond to her question, remarking instead, “I imagine she celebrates special occasions with champagne dinners.”

“She does,” Joanna admitted and defended it. “Barbeques are fun, but you have to admit they aren't exactly romantic.”

An eyebrow lifted in silent skepticism. “I
guess that depends on whether you are the barbeque or champagne type.” He picked up his hat.

Joanna gave him a startled look. “Are you leaving now?”

“Yes.”

“But—” How could he?

“You need to give some thought to which type you are—barbeque or champagne.” Linc stated quietly and adjusted the hat low on his forehead. “Good night, Joanna.”

H
er sandaled feet lightly skimmed over the steps as Joanna hurried downstairs. There was no sign of Reece in the living room. She scanned the doorways for a clue to his whereabouts.

“Reece! Are you ready to pick up Rachel?” she called and started across the living room to expand her search for him. “Not yet,” he answered, but Joanna couldn't place the direction of his voice. “I'm on the porch, having a cup of coffee. Come join me.”

With that information, she altered her course to walk to the screen door facing the lake. As she pushed it open, she saw him seated in one of the wicker chairs. A water-cooled breeze drifted in from the lake, but the late morning was turning warm and somnolent.

She let the screen door shut and advanced toward her uncle. The white slacks and knit shirt of navy blue enhanced his dark good looks and his trimly masculine build.

“When are you leaving to pick up Rachel?” she asked.

“I didn't plan to leave for another twenty minutes. Why?” His glance was mildly curious.

“I told Linc we'd be there a little early,” she explained.

“Certainly.” He nodded and would have added more but a noise intruded on nature's stillness. They exchanged questioning looks.

“It sounds like a car just drove in. I'll go see who it is,” Joanna said and turned to the screen door.

There was a vaguely puzzled frown in her expression as she entered the cabin. Since the road came to a dead end a quarter mile further, they didn't get passing traffic or the idle sightseer stopping to ask for directions.

As she crossed the room, she heard the idling of a car motor out front and the slam of a door. The front door was open to allow cross-ventilation but the dark mesh of its screen door didn't give Joanna a clear view outside until she was all the way to the door.

Her eyes widened in surprised shock at the sight of the slimly elegant woman approaching the cabin. Dressed in an expensive beige suit and a brightly striped silk blouse, she was the epitome of breezy sophistication. Her artfully bleached blonde hair was a shade lighter than
Joanna's sun-streaked hair and styled in a loose coil. She was tanned to a golden color that took years off her age.

“Mother!” Joanna finally found her voice and the strength to open the screen door. “How did you get here?” It was a ridiculous question since the taxi was just now reversing out of the drive.

“After that ride, a pack train couldn't have been more uncomfortable.” There was a stinging acidity to her dry answer.

“What are you doing here?” Joanna was still trying to recover from the astonishment of her mother's unexpected appearance. “Why didn't you let us know you were coming?”

“Isn't it obvious that I came to see you and find out for myself just what's going on here?” her mother challenged and handed Joanna the camel-brown weekender bag she was carrying. As she entered the cabin, her disdainful glance made a sweep of the surroundings. “I must admit I'm finding it difficult to see what it is you find to like about this place. After two weeks, I would be bored to tears. There's nothing but hills and trees; the roads were wretched—”

Her bronze-tinted lips were parted to add more disparaging remarks, but she stopped, distracted by something she saw. As her expression slowly changed to an aloof and challenging smile, Joanna looked around to see the “something” was Reece.

“Hello, Reece.” There was a silken smoothness to her mother's greeting. “Surprised to see me?”

A brittle tension crackled through the room as the pair faced each other, familiar antagonists meeting again. There was a silent weighing of each other before Reece smoothly crossed the room to greet her.

“I wasn't expecting you but I truly can't say that I'm surprised to see you.” He kissed the smooth cheek she offered him.

“Joanna tells me that congratulations are in order.” She arched him a look of amusement. “I always thought you were too clever to be caught. Who would have thought a hillbilly would succeed in snaring you when so many have tried? I'm definitely looking forward to meeting your 'Daisy Mae' while I'm here.”

Joanna stiffened at her mother's thinly disguised insults of Reece's choice for a wife, masked only by a taunting smile and the amusement in her softly cultured voice. Except for the hardening Linc of his smile, Reece gave no other outward indication that her mother's barbed references to Rachel had inflicted any damage.

“I have the feeling Rachel will find it as much of a pleasure as you do.” He easily parried her remarks with a jibe of his own. Joanna saw the flash of irritation in her mother's eyes that he hadn't risen to the bait, but the fire was quickly banked. “As a matter of fact, I have to leave shortly to pick up Rachel. A friend of ours is having a party for us this afternoon to celebrate our engagement.”

“I believe Joanna made some reference to that when I talked to her on the phone the other
evening.” Her mother pretended to vaguely recall the reference to the barbeque. “I suppose it will be one of those homespun affairs with all the grannies and the kissin' cousins there. Do you suppose they'll mind if I attend? I wouldn't want to miss it.”

“Linc would not object at all,” Reece assured her without blinking an eye.

“I suppose that was a silly question. After all, country people are known for their hospitality.” Instead of making that a trait to be admired, she managed to imply it was quaintly stupid.

Joanna was finding it difficult to keep her temper in the face of all these snide references to the questionable worth of the Ozark natives. Aware that her attitude had been initially the same, regarding them as country bumpkins, she held her silence.

“When did you arrive, Mother?” Joanna couldn't recall that there had been an early flight scheduled from California.

“Late last night. I'm certainly glad I spent the night in a hotel instead of coming directly here. The taxi would never have been able to find this place in the dark. He charged me extra just for traveling over these roads in the daylight.” She again implied her disdain for the location.

“You should have phoned from the airport. We would have picked you up,” Joanna replied, “and saved you from paying a taxi to come all this way.”

“And spoil my surprise?” she countered. “That would have taken the fun out of it.” She
brought her attention back to Reece. “I have to confess I was curious why you have kept coming here year after year. Now that I've seen it, I'm still baffled over what attracts you to this place. “

“Perhaps because there is nothing artificial here,” Reece suggested. “Not the scenery or the people.”

Joanna flashed a quick glance at her mother to see her reaction to his insinuation that she was phony. There was the faintest crack in her mother's smiling expression, a whisper of indication in the softly indrawn breath.

Then Reece was inclining his head in mock deference to her mother and excusing himself. “I must let Rachel know I have been delayed a few minutes.”

“She has you jumping through hoops already, doesn't she?” her mother mocked at his retreating back as Reece walked toward the study. With Reece gone from the room, she stopped trying to hide her intense displeasure behind the mask of a false smile. “He may have gotten himself engaged to this country yokel, but he'll never marry her.”