Texas fury (46 page)

The wheels of her car crunched on the shale in the driveway and should have alerted anyone in the house to her arrival. Two cars, a Mercedes station wagon and an Audi, stood in the open garage. Both cars had Hawaiian license plates.

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The Nelsons' cars. Whatever made her think they wouldn't be home? She hadn't seen Amelia's son, Rand, on the news, so they must be here.

Well, she was here now, and she'd have to make the best of it. She rang the doorbell for a full minute, listening to the continuous chime inside. Either they weren't home or they were outside.

Julie could feel the heat of excitement on her face as she walked around to the back of the house. Her heart pounded wildly at the thought of Cary sitting there, reading the morning paper. Or the Nelsons having a late breakfast. She was trembling so badly, she had to stop and take deep breaths. What would the Nelsons think of her, popping up on their doorstep? Surely they'd see right through her and know she was here only to see Cary. She felt as though her intentions were clearly written on her face.

The lanai was empty and there was no sign of anyone on the lawn or the beach at the foot of the yard. A wet towel hung haphazardly over the back of a webbed chair. She tried the kitchen door and found it unlocked. She cracked it open and called a greeting. When she received no response, she opened it wider and stuck her head in, calling louder. When there was still no response, her shoulders slumped. She'd come all this way for nothing.

The house seemed so inviting, almost as if it were beckoning her to enter. She wasn't sure what breaking and entering consisted of. If the door was open, was it the same thing? The Nelsons had invited her to stop by if she was ever in Hawaii. Surely they wouldn't mind if she used their bathroom. But what she really wanted was to see if there was any sign of Cary. She decided to go in.

It was a beautiful house—low, sprawling, light and airy. She forgot her need of the bathroom as she walked slowly around the house, savoring the beauty of it all. The French doors leading to the patio were shaded from the sun but allowed the garden, with all its rich, vibrant blooms, to be part of the view. If the doors were open, as they were now, the garden became an extension of the living room. The light bamboo furniture made it a perfect blend of indoors and outdoors. She could taste the tang of the sea far below and feel the ocean breeze wafting through the open doors.

The bedrooms she walked through made her gasp in delight, but it was the open suitcase on the floor that made her

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eyes light up. He was still here. The light coating of dust she'd seen in the other rooms was testimony that the Nelsons weren't in residence.

She felt more comfortable now that she wouldn't have to concoct a story for Maggie and Rand. Instantly, she made a decision: she'd wait here for Cary, no matter how long it took. She'd wait outside, on the lanai.

She washed her hands in the same bathroom Cary used and dried her hands on a damp towel, probably the same one he'd dried himself with after showering. When she settled herself on the lanai, she altered her plan slightly: she'd wait till five o'clock. If Cary didn't return by then, she'd leave. If she could calm her nerves and still her furiously beating heart, maybe she'd be able to catch a nap. She felt giddy and lightheaded.

Cary, I'm here; where are you? she whispered over and over.

The valet attendant at the Waikiki Beach Tower looked at Cary and smirked. Before Cary could get a word out of his mouth, the valet informed him that Miss Kingsley had left about two hours ago. "I'd say she plans to be gone all day, because she ordered a rental car." Cary wanted to kick the desk he was leaning on. The valet added insult to injury when he asked, "Do you want to leave your name ... this time?"

"Yes, I do," Cary said through clenched teeth. He roared out of the garage onto Liliuokalani Street, narrowly missing a girl in a bikini. He sobered instantly, remembering his speeding ticket. He drove like a ninety-year-old Sunday afternoon driver, up one street and down another.

Since he had nothing else to do, he opted for some sightseeing. If he paid attention, he should be able to find his way to Pearl Harbor. And he would keep calling the Waikiki Beach Tower each time he saw a phone booth.

Anger, hot and scorching, roared through him every time he thought of Amelia's betrayal. It was still raging in him when he parked the car and slammed down his money for a ticket to view the Arizona Memorial. He followed the rest of the crowd, mostly Japanese, into the theater, where film footage of the bombing of Pearl Harbor was shown. He watched it defensively, aware of all the Japanese around him. He wondered what they were thinking of, or were they like him, thinking only about personal problems? All he could think

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about was placing another call to Billie's house, and then the Beach Tower. He had to get this searing anger off his chest.

It was four o'clock when Cary dropped money into the pay phone to call Billie. His fist pounded the counter when the receiver wasn't picked up by the ninth ring. He held on a few moments longer. Billie picked it up, gasping for breath, on the eleventh ring.

"It's Cary, Billie."

"Cary! What... How nice of you to call. Is anything wrong?"

"Not at all. Is Amelia there? I've been calling all day and there's been no answer. I called Thad's private number and his secretary told me he was visiting a sick friend."

"Amelia isn't here, Cary. I know it's nine o'clock, but there was this... this... gathering she was invited to. Do you want me to give her a message?"

"Is Rand there?" Cary asked, ignoring the part about leaving a message.

"Ah, no, no, he isn't. He's... he's with Amelia, Cary. Would you like me to have him call you back?"

Cary seethed. "What I would like, Billie, is to have my goddamn wife call me back, if it isn't too goddamn much trouble for her. You can also tell her for me, if she didn't want me with her, all she had to do was say so. She should have told me to my face instead of making up excuses. Forget it, Billie, don't tell her any of the things I just said. I'm sorry I'm taking my anger out on you. Please, forgive me. Just tell Amelia I called, and give my regards to Rand, Maggie, and Thad." Rand was personable and elegant enough to squire Amelia to her "gathering," but he wasn't. Fuck it all!

Defiantly, Cary dropped more money into the phone. "Miss Kingsley doesn't answer," the impersonal voice announced. Cary left his name, and the Nelsons' phone number.

He was back in Waikiki. Cary knew the streets now, turning here, maneuvering to the right or left to avoid a one-way street, beating the major portion of late-afternoon traffic. He was on H-l a little before five. He paid careful attention to the speedometer; every few seconds he looked into the rear-view mirror. He turned off Kam Highway and pulled into a Burger King. For the first time since breakfast, he realized he was starving. He ordered three Whoppers, a double order of french fries, and two cups of coffee.

* * *

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It was four-thirty when Julie started her countdown. She'd had such high hopes, and now they were dashed. She couldn't stay here any longer like a lovesick schoolgirl. It was clear now to her that she wasn't going to find Cary. If she was meant to be with him, they would have found each other before this. She'd made a fool of herself by coming here, but thank God, no one knew about it but herself.

She used the bathroom one last time before the long trip back to Waikiki. She brought the still damp towel to her cheek. It smelled like Cary. She wanted to wad it up and carry it with her. Instead, she spread it out neatly on the rack, so it would dry.

He was here—at least, his things were here. So close. She ached with longing as she took one last look around the bedroom. Cary's suit hanging neatly, his dress shoes lined up underneath. Jeans and T-shirts slung over the backs of chairs. Cary's things. His shaving gear, his toothbrush, his aftershave. She closed her eyes, swaying dizzily. She sat down on the edge of the bed, imagining she could feel Cary's body warmth emanating from the tangled bed sheets. She had to get out of here before she burst into tears.

It was two minutes after five when she backed her car out of the gravel driveway.

The Burger King on her left looked appealing to Julie. Her conscience hadn't allowed her to touch the food in the Nelsons' refrigerator. She realized she was starving. She drove to the back of the parking lot and swerved next to a car with a Dollar Rent a Car sign on it. Curious, she bent down to look at the license plate. Her heart skipped at least two beats. With shaking hands, she rummaged in her handbag for the scrap of paper with Cary's license plate number. She leaned against the trunk of the car, a feeling of warmth coursing through her.

She spotted Cary immediately. She slid onto the seat opposite him and reached for one of his Whoppers. "Thanks. I'm starving," she said softly.

Cary stopped chewing for a moment. Things like this only happened in the movies. "I am, too. . .. That's why... I bought three. Have some french fries and one of these coffees."

"Thanks. I was waiting at your house all day."

Cary didn't find the admission strange at all. "I went to your place and they said you rented a car, which probably

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meant you would be gone all day. I just sort of bummed around and kept calling. Those guys know me already."

"They told me someone was asking for me. I never dreamed it was you. This is the best hamburger I've ever eaten."

"I think I've made a fool of myself."

"I don't mind. I've been calling your house at all hours of the day and night. I lied to the rental car place and said you sideswiped me. They gave me your address and phone number."

Cary's eyes were full of awe. "Why?"

"I wanted to see you. You should have gotten more catsup."

"They're all out. I got the last. I thought when I didn't call back... you would think ..."

"I did. Then I decided anything worth having has to have problems attached. All I've been thinking about is making love to you in that beautiful house. I've heard so much about it from Aunt Billie."

"Ever since I got here I've been having dreams about you. In one of them I was going to make love to you down by the water. I had you wrapped up in a lei I made myself. I woke up."

"Were you sorry?"

"Yes. Maybe we should... talk about this some more?" Cary said hesitantly.

"If you like. I won't change my mind. There are no strings attached to me. Why didn't you call back after I left that message?"

"No guts. This deal I'm working on. Amelia. I didn't want you to be hurt. I wanted to call. A couple of times I had my hand on the phone..."

"We aren't kids. I'm thirty-nine, in case you've forgotten," Julie said gently.

"I haven't forgotten anything. I played our time together over and over in my mind. A thousand times at least. I thought you said you were starving."

Julie fixed her eyes level with Cary's. "I am, but not for a Whopper. You don't seem to be too hungry yourself."

"My appetite seems to have disappeared," Cary said softly. "We should talk."

"Words have a way of coming between people."

"In that case I think we should climb into our respective

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cars, with me in the lead, and head back to the house I'm staying in. Jesus, I'm glad you were hungry enough to stop here," Cary said happily.

"Me, too. Cary, there doesn't have to be an afterwards. This is now." He nodded to show that he understood.

Cary drove slowly, constantly looking into the rearview mirror to make sure he wasn't dreaming and that Julie was still behind him. He wiggled a finger and smiled to himself. It was happening. Julie was here. They were going back to the house. Three days and three nights left. Julie's eyes had told him what she was expecting. He hoped his answering glance told her his thoughts were identical.

The leaves of the huge banyan tree at the Nelsons' gate parted in the wind, as though they were standing aside for the lovers to enter. Julie took it as an omen. She was meant to be here. Absolutely.

The cars slid to a stop in the middle of the long driveway, both doors opening simultaneously. It was dusk now, that soft, lavender-gray time when the worries of the day were behind and new beginnings were forged. Julie's voice was as light as a summer breeze. "It's so beautiful here. If I lived here, I don't think I'd ever want to leave."

"I feel the same way," Cary said. His arm was around her. Julie leaned into him as they walked to the lanai.

Cary uncapped two wine coolers from the small refrigerator. "I think we should talk. Not that I want to. I can't make you any promises, Julie."

"I'm not asking you for any. I'm here. You're here. This is our time. It will mean whatever each of us wants it to mean. No more and no less. Tell me about the dream again, the one where you wrapped me in a lei and then made love to me," Julie said lazily.

"Why don't I show you instead," Cary said softly as he pulled her toward him. His arms drew around her, holding her close to him. How tall he was, towering over her, lifting her chin with the tips of his fingers to look down into her eyes. His lips, when they touched hers, were soft, giving as well as taking, gently persuading her to respond. His arm, cradling her against him, was firm, strong, but his fingers touching her face were tender, trailing whispery shadows over her cheekbones. A kiss like this was the best possible beginning to a wonderful evening. A kiss. A tender gesture that tempted and demanded.

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"Hello, beautiful lady," Cary whispered against her cheek.

"Hello, darling Cary," Julie responded breathlessly. "I've never been kissed like that before," she confided shyly. Cary smiled in the lavender shadows as he squeezed her closer to him.

"We're going to make a lei," he said boyishly. "No one taught me how to do it. I figured it out myself, in my dream."

"I'll help you," Julie whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" Cary whispered.

"I don't know," Julie whispered back. "Maybe because this place is so perfect, so hushed, loud voices will shatter something. Where's the string for the leis?"