Runaway Vampire (9 page)

Frowning, Mary crossed to open the pocket door all the way and peered out into a pristine living area. The couch was back to its L shape, the sheets and blanket removed, folded neatly and resting on the last seat with the pillows on top and Bailey and Dante were nowhere to be seen.

Moving to the window over the sink, she shifted the blinds aside and peered out, a small smile claiming her face when she saw Dante walking Bailey toward the river. He was wearing a pair of Joe's jeans and the black T-shirt from the small stack of clothes she'd given him. Both items were tight on him, the jeans hugging him in all the right places, but at least reaching to the tops of his feet, which sort of surprised her. Joe had been six feet, but this man was a good eight inches taller. Of course, he was wearing them low on the hips whereas Joe had worn them at the waist, and he appeared to have a longer torso than Joe, who had been all legs. As for the T-shirt, well, it had certainly never looked that good on Joe. Where Joe had preferred loose T-shirts, this one was tight on Dante, at least across the chest and on his upper arms where it hugged him like a woman in love. It was loose at the waist though. The man had a smaller waist than most women she knew, Mary noted with appreciation.

Damn, he was a fine-looking man, she thought. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail low on his neck. She'd never thought much of long hair on men, but he could convert her. It was a shame she wasn't thirty or
forty years younger, she thought with a sigh and then made herself stop ogling the poor man and turn to the chore of making coffee.

Mary made a cup for herself, then prepared one for Dante and set them on the counter by the door before filling a dog dish with food and water. She carried the double-bowled dog dish outside first, and set it on the picnic table to protect it from visiting neighbor dogs. Mary then returned to the RV and grabbed both coffees and carried them to the picnic table as well. She'd barely settled on the seat and taken her first sip of coffee when Dante appeared, walking up the path with a well-behaved Bailey leading the way.

The perfect dog performance Bailey was giving ended the moment she spotted Mary seated at the picnic table. The German shepherd immediately jerked at her leash, trying to charge forward. But one word from Dante and she settled back to a walk, if a much faster one.

“I made you coffee,” Mary said, pushing his cup across the table as he sat down across from her. She then moved Bailey's double dog dish to the ground, smiling faintly when the dog attacked the food as if she hadn't eaten in days. Bailey always acted like she had to gobble it all up or someone might take it away. Perhaps a remnant of the first eight weeks of her life, where she'd been part of a litter and probably had had to eat quickly or her siblings would eat it all.

“You look tired,” Dante said quietly.

Mary stiffened and then continued to stare at Bailey, aware that she was blushing. Hoping he hadn't noticed,
she shrugged. “Didn't sleep well. Probably just all the excitement of the day,” she added, although that was a blatant lie. It had been the excitement of her dreams and their disturbing Bailey that had caused her lack of sleep.

“Neither did I,” Dante murmured and then suggested, “Perhaps we should nap after Bailey has finished her meal. She could stay in the front of the RV with me so that she does not disturb you.”

Mary glanced at him sharply, but his expression was innocent. Still, he'd obviously heard something last night to know that Bailey had woken her repeatedly. Clearing her throat, she shook her head. “Dave and Carol are expecting us at the Round Up for breakfast at eight.”

“The Round Up?” Dante asked uncertainly.

“The restaurant here,” she explained. “It's just a little shack, really, with outdoor tables, but they make the best food, and Carol and Dave invited us to join them for breakfast.”

“Ah,” he nodded and picked up his coffee. “Then we will have to leave soon. It must be almost eight now, it was ten to eight when I put Bailey's leash on her.”

Mary automatically looked at her wrist, but hadn't put her watch on yet. She glanced to Bailey to see that she was half done with her food already, and said, “As soon as she's done then,” and picked up her coffee to take a drink.

She was only half done with hers when Bailey finished eating. Not wanting to have Dave drive down after them, Mary left Bailey to drink her water and
took her and Dante's cups and carried them quickly into the RV to set in the sink. She grabbed her keys then, locked the door of the RV and took Bailey's leash as she joined Dante to walk to the main building, where the office, restaurant, store, and entertainment room were situated.

“I told them you were my nephew,” she murmured as they walked.

“I see,” he said slowly, and then asked, “Why?”

Mary felt the blood rush to her face at the question, and grimaced, but said, “It seemed easier than . . .” She shrugged. “I figured you didn't want me telling anyone about your circumstances; the kidnapping and everything.”

“No, but you could have said I was your lover.”

Mary almost stumbled over her own feet at the suggestion and turned to scald him with a look. “The hell I could. You aren't my lover, and I'll be damned if I'm having them all looking at me like I'm some sort of cradle-robbing cougar. Good Lord, they'd think I'd gone off my rocker.”

“Who'd think you'd gone off your rocker?”

Mary turned her head sharply to see Dave standing a few feet ahead on the end of a path leading off the lane they were on.

“And more importantly, why would anyone think that?” he continued when she stared at him wide-eyed. “You're one of the sanest women I know. You never get hysterical like Carol does.”

“Oh,” Mary blinked, uncomfortable at the more favorable rating he was giving her than his wife. Then
she forced a smile and waved the question away. “No reason, we were just—” She waved again vaguely and then changed the subject. “Sorry if we're a couple minutes late, but you didn't have to come looking for us.”

“I wasn't,” he assured her easily, falling into step on her other side as they reached him. “I was just coming back from a walk around to check on everything. Someone tried to break into the campground last night. The dogs chased them off,” he added quickly when Mary glanced at him with alarm. “But I wanted to make sure they hadn't found another way in and caused trouble.”

“Who was it?” Dante asked, tension in his voice.

“I don't know. A couple of tough-looking characters from what I could tell. But I didn't get a good look. Brutus, Little Mo, and Tiger scared them off.”

“They're Dave and Carol's Dobermans,” Mary explained. “Beautiful dogs. Good guard dogs too.”

“Yeah. Troublemakers think twice when those three come running. They were out for their nightly constitutional when it happened and scared them off. So we decided to leave them out all night after those yahoos tried to force the gate. Didn't hear another peep from the dogs so it isn't likely they tried again, but I just wanted to be sure.”

Mary nodded, but glanced to Dante. He met her gaze and she could tell he was thinking the same thing she was, that it might have been his kidnappers trying to ascertain whether they were there or not, and perhaps even hoping to steal him back.

“Thank goodness for Brutus, Little Mo, and Tiger then,” she murmured.

“Yes,” Dante and Dave said together.

They'd neared the office by then and Mary found herself glancing toward the gate and the road beyond, her eyes searching for a black van. There were no vehicles on the road though, that she could see. If it had been his kidnappers, they'd obviously moved on to check out other campgrounds. There were several around the area. She just had to hope they didn't return. The gates were open again now, and would remain so all day. Which meant they had to worry about what the kidnappers would do if they got inside and found the RV and Dante.

T
he Round Up was busy when they got there, every picnic table on the deck around it seeming occupied, but Carol had saved one for them and stood to smile and wave them over when they approached. The men dropped back to let Mary lead the way with Bailey, and she smiled and greeted several regulars she'd met on past stops as they made their way through the tables. Carol had chosen an outer table, probably because she expected Mary to bring Bailey as usual, and Mary quickly attached Bailey's leash to one of the legs on the outside, then greeted Carol with a hug.

“How did you sleep?” Carol asked as they settled at the table. “You look tired. I hope the dogs barking didn't disturb you when those men tried to break in?”

“No. We're back far enough we didn't hear a thing,” Mary assured her and it was true, at least for her. She
didn't tell Carol that she hadn't slept well anyway though. She didn't want the questions that would follow.

“You must be the nephew,” Carol said, turning her attention to Dante as he stepped over the picnic table's bench seat to settle next to Mary. Carol's eyes widened slightly as she took him in and then she murmured, “My, you're a big fella.”

“Dante, this is Carol and Dave Bigelow,” Mary said, trying to look at him without actually looking at him. A tricky business, but she suspected if she did look at him properly her less than aunt-like appreciation might show. “We've been friends for years. Since before they even bought the campground.”

“Yes.” Carol grinned and then leaned across the table to brush a hand over Dante's arm and explained, “We lived in Winnipeg just around the corner from your aunt and uncle. We've been friends for decades.”

“You are Canadian as well?” Dante asked with surprise.

Carol nodded. “We used to be snowbirds too, driving the RV down here like Mary and Joe, but about eight years ago the four of us booked in here as usual, and during our stay the owners mentioned they were looking to sell and move to California to be closer to their kids. We decided we'd buy it and stay year round.”

“The best decision we ever made,” Dave announced with a smile.

The waitress appeared at their table then and Carol smiled at the girl and said, “Oh, Andrea. You remember Mrs. Winslow? And this is her nephew, Dante.”

Mary smiled at the young woman. Carol and Dave
hired a lot of locals to help out at the campground in the busy season, but Andrea was one of the year-round workers who had been with them since they'd bought the campgrounds. As Mary recalled, Andrea had started here fresh out of school at eighteen, which put her at about twenty-six, Dante's age or a little older, she thought. Mary had always liked the girl, but noting the way she was eyeing Dante like he was a tasty treat, she found herself cooling toward her.

“So, what does everybody want?” Carol asked cheerfully. Twisting in her seat, she gestured toward the blackboards on the wall of the cookhouse. “Everything we make is there on the boards, Dante.”

“Yes.” Andrea beamed at him. “Have whatever you want.”

Mary's eyebrows rose at the suggestive offer and she asked sweetly, “How are you finding married life, Andrea? When I stopped here in the fall it was just a week or so until the wedding, wasn't it?”

“Oh,” Andrea flushed, and then glanced quickly to Dante and back before mumbling, “Yes. It's fine.”

“The wedding was beautiful,” Carol put in when Andrea didn't say anything else. Smiling at Dante, she added, “They held it here along the river. The pictures turned out really nice.”

Mary nodded as if she cared, and then glanced to the blackboards and quickly gave her order. The others followed and Andrea slipped away to take their order to the cook.

“I think our Andrea is a little taken with you, Dante,” Dave said with amusement once the girl was out of earshot.

“Any red-blooded female would be,” Carol said on a laugh and then teased, “If I were thirty or so years younger, Dave would have something to worry about with you here.”

“You flatter me,” Dante said with a smile and leaned to the side to pet Bailey as she moved to sit on the ground behind him and Mary.

Carol frowned and then glanced to Mary and asked, “I don't remember any of your or Dave's siblings moving to Italy.”

Mary's eyes widened with confusion. “None of them did.”

“But Dante has an Italian accent,” she pointed out and then said, “Oh, is this one of Joe's chil—” She broke off sharply as she realized what she was saying. Eyes wide with alarm, Carol turned to her husband for help.

Rolling his eyes with disgust at her gaff, he changed the subject abruptly by announcing, “Carol thinks we should sell up and move back to Winnipeg.”

Mary had frozen at Carol's words. She now glanced quickly to Dante, noting that he was staring at Carol with the same concentration he'd had in his eyes as he'd looked back at her the first time she'd seen him lying on her RV floor. Had he been trying to read her mind then? she wondered. And was he now reading Carol's thoughts to find out what she'd been talking about? The possibility was a humiliating one for Mary. Forcing a smile to her face, she said quietly, “You mentioned that when I stopped in the fall. But you didn't seem interested.”

“He isn't,” Carol said unhappily.

“Of course not,” Dave said with a grimace. “It's damned cold in Winnipeg in the winter, and I'm too old to be shoveling snow.”

“We could get an apartment,” Carol argued at once. “Besides, I miss the kids, and the grandbabies are growing up so fast.”

“They visit,” Dave pointed out with irritation.

“Once a year,” Carol countered. “I want to see them more than that.”

“You could always visit them up there,” Dave pointed out. “I told you. You should go this summer and stay a couple months, then come back for the winter. We'd be driving an RV down here for the winter anyway if we didn't own this place. In fact,” he continued, “If you want you could get a small apartment and stay there for the summers, we could afford that. Then you could come back in the fall for the busy season.”

Carol frowned at the suggestion. “And leave you here alone all summer?”

“I'd have help running the place,” he pointed out dryly. “I'd be fine.”

Her mouth tightened. “Don't you want to see your grandchildren too?”

“I see them when they visit,” he pointed out with a shrug. “Hell, I probably wouldn't see them any more than that if we lived in Winnipeg. Their lives are so busy, they wouldn't have time for us old fogies. Look, here comes Andrea with the drinks.”

Carol opened her mouth as if to continue the argument, but then just sat back with a sigh and shook her
head wearily as Andrea arrived at the table and began to set out the coffees and juices they'd ordered.

Mary murmured a thank-you as the girl set an orange juice and cup of coffee in front of her, and then glanced from Dave to Carol with concern. It was obvious that Carol wasn't happy, and it seemed equally obvious that Dave didn't care. He was happy with their life the way it was and was unwilling to bend. She had noticed that Dave had suggested Carol go north alone if she wanted, not even mentioning the possibility of his joining her for part of the time. It seemed after forty years of marriage, there was trouble between the Bigelows.

Once Andrea had left, Dave turned the conversation to attractions in the area that Dante might like to see. Mary noticed that Dante murmured politely in response to each suggestion, but didn't encourage him much, and then the food arrived and the conversation dwindled as they tucked into their meal.

Dave often claimed they had the best cook in Texas working for them, and Mary couldn't argue the point. Every meal she'd ever had at the Round Up had been excellent, and this breakfast was no exception. She would have enjoyed it more, however, had the mood at the table been less tense. Where she usually enjoyed visiting with Dave and Carol, this time she was actually glad when one of the workers hurried to the table as they finished their meal and dragged Carol and Dave away to deal with an unhappy camper.

“I'm sorry, we'll visit more later,” Carol said apologetically as they rushed away.

Mary murmured in agreement, but was kind of
hoping that later never came. She knew if Carol got her alone she'd have more questions about Dante that she just had no idea how to answer. And Mary really didn't want to get in the middle of the argument Carol and Dave were having about moving or not moving. Her advice to Carol would be to do whatever the hell she wanted. If she wanted to move back to Winnipeg to be close to her kids, then do it. Life was too damned short to constantly push your own desires down and always do what others wanted. On her deathbed, Mary's mother had told her to follow her dreams, that on her own deathbed she wouldn't lie there patting herself on the back for all the times she was so good and kindhearted and did what others wanted, she'd be regretting all the things she'd wanted to do and hadn't.

Mary hadn't always followed that advice, but the older she got, the more she recognized the sense behind the words. Her mother hadn't been suggesting she act without considering others. She'd just been saying to be kind to herself as well as to others. Her own wants and needs should be at least as important as those of the others in her life. Because, frankly, if you didn't care about yourself, no one would, and you'd spend your life living for others.

“Your husband was unfaithful,” Dante said bluntly once they'd left the restaurant and started the return walk to the RV.

Mary's hand tightened on Bailey's leash at that comment. He obviously
had
read Carol's thoughts. Either that or he'd realized the significance of what Carol had stopped herself saying. “Oh, is this one of Joe's chil—”
Joe's children
was what she'd started to say. One of his biological children, not with her, but with one of the many women he'd had affairs with over a fifteen-year period during the first part of their marriage.

“I told you he wasn't perfect,” she muttered with a shrug.

“Yes. But you neglected to tell me he was repeatedly unfaithful to you during your marriage,” he said grimly, sounding angry on her behalf. “That is a little less than imperfect.”

“It was during the early years of our marriage,” she said quietly. “But he made up for it during the last half of our marriage. He was the best husband a woman could ask for then.”

“He was not,” Dante assured her. “He simply got better at hiding his indiscretions.”

“What?” Mary asked sharply, her steps halting. Then she scowled at him. “You don't know that.”

“I read both Carol and Dave,” he said quietly.

Her eyes widened with alarm. “He and Carol didn't . . . ?”

“No. Carol, like you, is a faithful wife,” he assured her solemnly.

Mary let her breath out on a sigh. She and Carol had been good friends for a long, long time. The thought that she could have betrayed her like that would have been crushing. Which was ironic, she supposed. She should have been more distressed at Joe's betrayal had they had an affair. Instead, it was Carol's betrayal that would have hurt more. She supposed it was because
she'd long ago given up any hope of being able to trust her husband in that regard. At least back then.

“Dave is how I know your husband continued his infidelities,” Dante continued, “He and your husband were made from the same mold. The pair often trolled the bars together, knew each other's girlfriends, and covered for each other with “the wifey” as he put it in his thoughts.”

Mary sighed at this news and continued walking. She wasn't terribly surprised by the information, but also wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with it. Should she be furious and confront Dave? Why? What did it matter? Joe was dead.

“He continues to philander here in Texas,” Dante said grimly. “And Carol is aware of it. That is part of the reason she wants to move back to Winnipeg. Dave uses the campground as his own personal hunting grounds. He has affairs with many of the women who camp here, married or not. He also has had the occasional fling with workers.”

Mary's mouth tightened and her heart went out to Carol, but again, she didn't know what to do about it. If, as he said, Carol knew . . . well, she wouldn't want to add to her humiliation and bring up the subject with her. They'd only discussed the subject of Joe's infidelities once, years ago, after the car accident that had led to her not being able to have children. Mary had almost left Joe then, but . . .

“Carol believes you stayed with Joe because you could not have children,” Dante said quietly. “She be
lieves you felt no other man would want a woman who couldn't give him children.”

“Children are important to most men,” she said quietly. “But that wasn't the only reason. He made a mistake, but no one is perfect.”

He was silent for a minute and then said uncertainly, “Are the pictures in the RV of your husband's children with other women?”

Mary's mouth tightened. She hated being reminded of the children he'd had with other women. She knew they existed, but not how many. “No. They're our adopted children. We adopted a boy and a girl. Both grown now with children of their own.”

“I see. But Joe had children of his own without you?” he asked, not letting the subject go.

Mary opened her mouth to tell him she didn't want to talk about that subject, but then sighed and said, “He traveled a lot for work when we were younger. It was at a time when we were having marital problems. Sometimes he was away for months in foreign countries negotiating this deal or that one. He was lonely and took up with other women.”

“I would never be unfaithful to you Mary,” he said solemnly. “No matter how long we were apart.”