New Way to Fly (24 page)

“Brock, stop. Please, look at me.”

Something in her tone made him pause, take his hand from the door handle and turn to meet her eyes again. “Yeah?”

“Brock, that evening at my house made me realize something I should have known all along, but was
too stupid to see. It's too late now, and there's no hope for anything, but I want you to know just the same.”

He stared down at her, his anger seeping away, replaced by growing confusion and a dizzying surge of emotion. “Go on,” he whispered. “What did you learn, Amanda?”

“That I love you. I loved you the very first time I ever saw you, right here at the Double C after Vern and Carolyn's wedding. I was such a snob,” she said, her voice quiet and bitter, while he stood gazing at her in stunned amazement.

“Amanda—”

“Please, don't say anything. Let me finish. I was such a snob that I couldn't even recognize my own feelings, so I just kept thinking you were interesting, irritating, upsetting, all kinds of things. I truly believed my happiness was back in the sophisticated world with Edward and his friends, and that everything that happened between you and me was just a result of some kind of superficial physical attraction, nothing real at all.”

She paused to catch her breath, gazing absently at the moonlit pasture.

“But when I saw the two of you together,” she went on quietly, “I finally knew how wrong I'd been. I knew that I loved you, and I didn't want Edward's life at all. I wanted to live with you
and…and Alvin,” she added with a sad little smile, “and work and build together and watch things grow. I know it's too late,” she said hastily, forestalling him when he tried to speak. “I don't deserve a man like you, Brock. I'm so ashamed of what I did. I just want you to forgive me, and I want you to know that I…I…”

Finally Amanda's composure deserted her. Her voice broke and she turned and ran. She raced across the ranch yard and was swallowed up almost at once in the noisy swirl of party-goers.

Brock stood in the darkness and gazed at the place where she'd disappeared, his face taut with emotion, his dark eyes blazing. He shouted and began to run after her, then paused. His head was spinning, and he needed time to compose himself, to think about all the things he wanted to say to her.

And when he said them, it wasn't going to be in the midst of this laughing crowd of merrymakers. Slowly Brock turned aside and climbed into his truck, pulled out of the moonlit yard full of parked vehicles and started down the road toward his own lonely ranch.

 

“B
UT
M
ARY
…
why
ostriches?
Why not goats, or…or Holstein cows, or something a little more orthodox?”

Mary turned and smiled at Amanda, who sat be
side her on the pile of sturdy fence posts, patting the big black cat named Hannibal.

“Because I happen to like ostriches,” Mary said cheerfully. “And I don't like goats.”

“But, Mary…” Hannibal arched and butted against Amanda's hand when she paused her rhythmic stroking. He grinned fatuously as she resumed the caress, his yellow eyes narrowed to slits of pleasure.

“Hannibal may look tough, but I guess he needs love like everybody else,” Mary observed, leaning over to check on a solemn dark-eyed little boy who sat behind the stack of posts, running a dump truck through the crushed rock of the driveway.

“What's Bobby doing?”

“Building another highway, it looks like,” Mary said fondly. “I think he's going to be a civil engineer. He makes the most wonderful bridges out of twigs and bits of wire, anything that's lying around.”

“He's certainly well behaved,” Amanda said, thinking about how much more pleasant it was to visit Mary now that Luke Harte was gone and Bobby's family was installed in the bunkhouse. She gazed over her shoulder at the child, who looked up with a grave shy smile that tugged painfully at her heart.

“He's wonderful,” Mary said. “I just love him.
Bobby,” she added, “are you hungry? Shall we go into the house for milk and cookies?”

The little dark-haired boy nodded in an abstracted fashion, searching behind him for a rock large enough to prop up a ramp on his highway.

“No rush, I guess,” Mary said cheerfully. “About these ostriches,” she added, “it's really not as simple as I've been letting on, Amanda. Remember when I told you how I kept dreaming about ostriches, and you said they represented freedom?”

Amanda nodded, moving to scratch Hannibal's scarred ears with a gentle motion while he swooned in ecstasy.

“Well, you were right. I needed freedom from myself and my pain and the awful feelings I had about myself, and that's what this business is going to give me. The minute I saw those ostriches in the field that day, I just knew, somehow, that they were my door to a better life if I could only find the courage to open it and walk through.”

“I'm so proud of you,” Amanda said warmly. “I think it's wonderful, what you've done for yourself and for this ranch, Mary.”

“I owe most of it to you,” Mary said, giving her friend a warm smile. “If you hadn't come into my life when you did, walked up and introduced yourself at that party, God knows what would have happened to me.”

Amanda stirred awkwardly under Mary's frank gaze.

“I didn't do anything,” she protested.

“Sure you did. You made me think about myself, quit wallowing in self-pity and take a good hard look. I had to learn to be my own person, standing on my own two feet, and you helped me do it. I'll always love you for that, Amanda. I just can't ever thank you enough, no matter how hard I try.”

Amanda felt tears burning behind her eyes, and fought to control herself. These days she was so soft and easily moved that tears seemed to be ready to flow at a word or even a glance.

“And another thing,” Mary went on quietly. “We're going to have to check out the prices on those clothes you sold me, Amanda. I was in such a fog back there that I never even thought about it, but I realize now that I must have cheated you badly. I'm sure I owe you a whole lot more than what I paid.”

“How could you cheat me?” Amanda said. “After all, I was the one who made the offer and set the price.”

“Yeah,
sure,
” Mary drawled. “And that cream-colored suit is really just worth a hundred dollars, right? Tell the truth, Amanda.”

Amanda shifted nervously on her hard makeshift seat, and Mary reached over to pat the younger
woman's cheek. “Never mind,” she murmured. “You're such a darling. We'll find some way to settle things fairly,” she added in a brisker tone. “Just as soon as I start selling my chicks.”

“Better not start counting them before they're hatched,” Amanda said, trying to sound cheerful.

Mary chuckled. “I know, I know, but it's damned hard not to. All those lovely dollars…Oh, that reminds me,” she added, turning to look directly at Amanda.

“Yes?”

“When are you leaving, Amanda? How much longer will you be around?”

Amanda looked down at the big cat to hide the sadness in her eyes. “I'm not leaving, Mary,” she said quietly.

“You're not? But didn't Beverly say—”

“I've changed my mind. I…I did some foolish things,” Amanda said, flushing painfully, “and I hurt somebody by my own stupidity, and at first I just wanted to run away and leave it all behind. But you know what? You're absolutely right.”

“Me?” Mary said blankly. “What do you mean?”

“You're right about women and personal responsibility. Women have to make a stand and be individuals. We can't just run from man to man, begging them to create our lives for us, asking one man to
make us happy when things don't work out with another.”

Mary nodded thoughtfully, her eyes resting on the glossy head of the little boy, who still played quietly with his truck.

“And that's what I have to do,” Amanda said. “I have a business started here that's just beginning to take off and show a profit, and I have to keep at it or I'm going to hate myself even more. I'm not leaving, Mary. I've finally realized that I belong here, and I'm going to stay and make a success of my life. My business life, anyhow,” Amanda added with a note of bitterness.

But Mary didn't hear the sudden painful emphasis in her friend's voice. She was laughing, leaning over to hug the younger woman with joyous surprise. “Amanda! That's wonderful news. That's just so great!”

Amanda smiled wanly, touched by Mary's obvious delight.

“Now I can get you to find another clothing item for me. I know exactly what I want, but I don't have the slightest idea where to find it,” Mary said, squinting at the diagram she was working on. “God, I've drawn and thrown away dozens of these,” she added in a distracted voice. “You just wouldn't believe how hard it is to plan a proper…”

She fell silent, biting her pencil, while Amanda
fondled the cat and gazed at the other woman. “Mary,” she prompted gently.

“Yes?” Mary looked up, running a hand through her hair and peering at the dimensions of the nearest corral pen.

“You were saying you wanted me to shop for something. What is it?”

“Oh, yes.” Mary looked up with an awkward little smile. “I want some lounging pajamas.”

“Lounging pajamas?”

Mary nodded, her eyes bright. “Al's got a two-day pass at Christmastime,” she said shyly. “He's coming home, and I want to look real glamorous and sexy.”

Amanda nodded solemnly. “I see. And you thought a pair of lounging pajamas would be…”

“Something silky,” Mary said firmly. “And red, if you can find it. Al's always liked red,” she added with a sad smile, “and the colors at that place he's in are so dull and drab. Poor Al, he could use some brightness in his life.”

Amanda smiled back at her friend, swallowing hard. “I'll do my best,” she promised, her voice suddenly husky. “If I have to scour every retail store and mail order shop in the country, you'll have some red silk lounging pajamas for Christmas. My goodness,” she added. “This cat is just insatiable. Don't you ever give him any affection at all?”

Mary smiled at Hannibal, who was rubbing himself sensuously against Amanda's leg, his blunt battle-scarred face glowing with love.

“Hannibal's a pretty tough cat,” Mary said. “Not usually the lovey-dovey type. He just recognizes you as an easy mark.”

“I see,” Amanda said dryly, patting the cat's lean flanks as they heaved and vibrated with noisy bursts of purring.

“Speaking of easy marks, you should see him torment poor little Alvin. He terrorizes that miserable animal.”

“Alvin?” Amanda checked her hand abruptly in midstroke, her heart beating fast.

“You know Alvin, don't you? Brock Munroe's ugly little shaggy dog?”

“Yes, I know Alvin.” Amanda lowered her face and continued patting the cat.

“They were over here just the other day, and you should have seen Hannibal. It was a scream.”

Laughing, Mary told Amanda about Hannibal's stealthy ambush and Alvin's hysterical reaction.

Amanda shivered, imagining Brock's strong brown hands holding the frightened dog, his gentle tanned face and concerned dark eyes.

Oh, God, I love him so much,
Amanda thought in agony.
I love him so much that I'm going to die if I
can't ever touch him again. And he hates me…. He has every right to hate me….

She thought about her last sight of him in the cold moonlight where they stood silent and tense, wrapped in their own unhappiness, worlds away from the laughter and lighthearted revelry of the party-goers.

Amanda felt the tears welling up again. She was grateful when Mary set her sketch pad aside and went over to gather the little boy into her arms, giving him a hug and setting him carefully on his feet.

“Come on, Bobby. Your mama and daddy will be back from town soon with that lumber, and we'll all have a whole lot of work to do, so you'd better have your snack now, okay?”

Amanda managed a shaky smile and climbed down from the posts, following them into the house, with Hannibal stalking regally along beside her.

 

A
NOTHER CATALOGUE
joined the pile at the edge of Amanda's desk. She sat back, shaking her head, amazed by how hard it was to find a pair of red silk lounging pajamas. With her usual keen instinct for her clients' tastes, Amanda had a perfectly clear picture in her mind of what Mary Gibson wanted. Something bright and rich-looking, not too brief and provocative, possibly even suitable for entertaining holiday guests over a tumbler of eggnog.

But nothing seemed to come close, at least nothing in red silk. Everything was either positively indecent, or else trimmed lavishly with sequins and feathers. And despite Mary's fascination with ostriches, Amanda was fairly certain that her friend didn't really want to wear feathers in the house….