The Gentling (17 page)

❧

All of Katy's fears soon proved groundless. Within a month she had settled into the big house and her role as its mistress as though she had been born to it.

She had expected the house to be a constant reminder of Henry and Saundra, but Trace, with the sensitivity she was coming to expect from him, eliminated that problem almost immediately. The morning after their arrival he took her on a tour of the house. Very tactfully he pointed out the furnishings which had been in his family for years, especially those items that had belonged to his mother. The rest, he explained tersely, had been selected by Saundra.

After viewing only a few rooms Katy could easily spot which was which. Evelyn Barnett had chosen elegant period pieces with clean, classic lines, while Saundra's taste ran more to the ornate.

Halfway through the tour Trace surprised her by saying, "I want you to redo the house to suit yourself, Katy. You can have a free hand to change anything you want, in any way you want. My only demand is that you get rid of every item that belonged to Saundra. I want that woman's presence obliterated from our home just as soon as possible."

"Oh, Trace, I couldn't do that!" Katy protested quickly. "The house is lovely, just as it is!"

"That may be, but I think a house should reflect the taste of its mistress." He lifted her chin with one finger and smiled into her anxious face. "I keep remembering how warm and inviting your father's cottage is. There's a wonderful, homey feeling there that this place lacks. I like that, Katy. I like it very much. And I think you do too."

A wry smile twisted one corner of her mouth. "Well, yes. Actually, I do. But I somehow can't imagine this house with homemade braided rugs and chintz-covered furniture."

"Maybe not. But I'm sure that whatever you choose will be perfect. Keep anything of Mother's that appeals to you, but get rid of Saundra's. Then just let yourself go."

Katy continued to resist the idea for a time, but in the end, Trace was adamant. Once started, she tackled the project with enthusiasm, spending countless hours looking at furniture catalogues, paint samples, and upholstery and drapery swatches. In some rooms she made sweeping changes, in others only small ones, which, nevertheless, managed to subtly alter the tone of the decor. Within a few weeks the house had begun to take on a new personality.

Much to everyone's surprise, Katy returned to her job at the daycare center. It was what she wanted to do, and Trace didn't mind. Mattie certainly didn't need her help caring for the house.

Gradually her life settled into a pleasant routine. The days were spent helping Jane with the throng of irrepressible but delightful children. The evenings were spent quietly with Trace. Several times a week Trace persuaded her father to join them for dinner, and Katy was deeply touched by the thoughtful gesture. The fact that her husband and her father liked and respected one another filled her with a deep sense of contentment.

Katy knew that to others they appeared to be the typical newlywed couple. Trace certainly made no effort to hide the fact that he adored his wife, and Katy would have been less than human had she not responded to the constant attention he showered on her. When he looked at her in that special way, or simply touched her gently in passing, she felt warm all over. All of her doubts about Trace vanished under his consistent, loving care.

As the weeks passed Katy began to realize that she was happier than she had ever been in her life. If there were times when she felt a twinge of regret at the look of hungry yearning she often glimpsed in Trace's eyes, or when her own body stirred with restless longings, she quickly suppressed the feelings. She didn't want anything to disturb the even tenor of their relationship.

For a long time it looked as though nothing would. Then one night, about two months after their return from Hawaii, she arrived home to find Trace packing.

Katy froze in the bedroom doorway and stared at the open case spread out on the bed. A cold feeling of dread clutched at her. Her frantic gaze went to Trace, where he stood bent over an open dresser drawer.

"Where are you going?" she asked bluntly, her voice breathless with anxiety.

Surprise and pleasure lit Trace's handsome features when he swung around. "Hi, darling. I didn't hear you come in." Carelessly tossing a stack of clean underclothes into the open case, as he passed the bed, he crossed the room and took her into his arms, kissing her long and lingeringly on the mouth.

Normally Katy melted under the soft persuasion of his kiss, but tonight she stood rigid within his arms, her lips cold and unresponsive. All that registered on her mind was that half-filled case. The moment he released her, her eyes went back to it. "Where are you going?" she repeated urgently.

"I'm leaving early tomorrow morning for California. I received a call from Ed Tillman this afternoon. You remember him—the California rancher who was here a few weeks ago looking over some thoroughbred stock? Well, it seems he's finally made up his mind. He's buying the black stallion and six mares, and he wanted me to deliver them to his ranch just as soon as I can."

"I see," she said quietly. "And how long do you think you'll be gone?"

"Oh, about ten days, I'd say. I'm going to take it slowly, and stop often to exercise the horses. Their legs tend to swell on long hauls like this, and I want them to be in top shape when we arrive, so I'll probably take four or five days to make the trip. Then I'll have to stay a few days to make sure they settle in okay. I should be back by a week from Friday. But don't worry if it takes a bit longer."

"Do you have to go? Why can't you send someone else?"

"Normally I would. But Ed is very influential among California's horse set, and this is the first time he has bought any of our stock. I want to be sure everything goes well."

Ten days. She wouldn't see him for ten days. Katy felt her stomach plunge as though she had suddenly swallowed a ten pound rock. Distressed by her reaction, she pulled out of his arms and walked briskly over to the open case.

"My goodness, just look at this mess." Her voice came out high and unsteady, sounding nothing at all like her. "I don't understand why you men are so helpless when it comes to something like packing. None of this will be fit to wear by the time you get to California." Shaking her head, she pulled the jumble of clothing from the case and began to refold it. "Why don't you just get out whatever else you want to take, and I'll pack it for you."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Trace said, chuckling.

Katy kept her head down as she carefully repacked each item, blinking rapidly to fight back the threatening tears. She was furious with herself. Why should she mind that Trace would be gone for almost two weeks? Or that he hadn't asked her to go? Only a few months ago she would have been relieved. So she had gotten used to spending her evenings with him. So what? It wasn't the end of the world. There was no reason for her to be lonely just because Trace wouldn't be here for a few days. She could spend every evening with her father. The way she used to. She probably wouldn't even notice that he was gone.

As Katy put in the last item and straightened up she felt Trace's hands slide around her waist from behind, as his lips nuzzled aside her hair and nibbled at her neck.

Katy relaxed against him, and for just a moment, reflected irrelevantly on how easily she had grown accustomed to his touch.

"You know, honey, I've been thinking. It's about time we gave a party, and this would be a good time for you to plan it—while I'm gone and out of your hair."

"A party? Why do we have to give a party?"

Trace turned her slowly and locked his hands in the small of her back. There was a devilish gleam in his eyes and his mouth was twitching. Katy leaned back against his arms and eyed him suspiciously.

"Well, it's the custom around these parts for newly-weds to give some sign to their family and friends that they're ready to leave the bedroom and rejoin the rest of the world," he stated with a perfectly straight face, then laughed aloud as Katy blushed furiously. "Surely you've noticed that we haven't had any visitors or received any invitations since we returned? They're all waiting for us to indicate that we wouldn't be averse to a little socializing. A party would accomplish that."

Her face still warm, Katy stared at the top button on his shirt. "What kind of party?" she asked with a decided lack of enthusiasm. She hated the very thought of giving a party. The last one they'd had ended in disaster.

"Oh, just something casual. Maybe a barbecue around the pool. And don't worry, we won't invite too many people. After dinner tonight I'll make up a list of the ones I feel we should ask, and you can add anyone else you want. Mattie can help you with the food and decorations. She's an old hand at this sort of thing. Plan it for two weeks from Saturday. I'm sure to be back by then." He tilted his head to one side and gave her a slow, coaxing smile. "Okay?"

Resentment smoldered in Katy's blue eyes as she stared back at him, but there was no resisting Trace when he turned on the charm. Finally she released a long, resigned sigh and nodded. "Okay."

❧

Katy turned her head and glanced at the illuminated dial of the bedside clock. One fifteen. With a disgusted sigh she threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. The silken folds of her nightgown fluttered soundlessly around her ankles as she walked barefoot across the carpet to the window. Drawing back the lacy curtains, Katy stared morosely out into the darkness.

Moonlight filtered through the huge oak tree by the drive, casting a dappled pattern of light and shadows across the manicured lawn. From behind the house, hidden in the dense forest, came the incessant, high-pitched hum of a thousand nameless insects. A movement caught her eyes, and as Katy watched, a small furry animal scampered across the grass and disappeared into the shrubbery.

The quiet was nerve-wracking. Katy shifted restlessly and stared up at the black velvet sky.

This was the fourth night in a row that she hadn't been able to sleep. And she knew why. The simple truth of the matter was that she missed Trace. Dreadfully.

She had grown accustomed to falling asleep in his arms, with the sound of his strong heartbeat beneath her ear and the warm comfort of his hard body pressed against hers. Without him that enormous bed was just a cold empty space.

And it wasn't only at night that she felt this grinding loneliness. She missed him every minute of the day, even during those times, like at work, when she normally didn't see him. Since the moment he had disappeared down the drive, pulling that long stock trailer full of horses behind his truck, she had walked around feeling as though her heart were encased in lead. And she hadn't been in the least successful in hiding her feelings. Jane had noticed her unhappiness only that morning. In her usual, forthright manner, she had gotten right to the heart of the problem.

"Sweetie, if you don't like the pattern on these dishes, just say so and I'll buy some new ones. There's no need to scrub it off."

It took several seconds for Jane's voice to penetrate, but finally Katy turned her head and gave her friend a blank look, her blue eyes slightly out of focus. "What?"

"You've been washing that same plate for the last five minutes," Jane explained with exasperated amusement.

"Oh! I'm sorry. My mind must have been wandering." Hastily, Katy swished the dish through the rinse water and placed it in the rack.

"Your mind isn't wandering, doll, it's taken a hike. You've been off in some world of your own for the past three days. What's the matter? Did you have a fight with that dreamy man you married?"

Katy pulled the plug in the sink and watched the water whirlpool down the drain. "No, of course not. Anyway, that would be a bit difficult, since he left Tuesday morning to deliver some Thoroughbreds to a rancher in California."

"Ah-ha! Now the light dawns!" Jane crowed in triumph. "I knew it had something to do with Trace. For two months you've been absolutely glowing with happiness. Now, all of a sudden, the light has gone out of you and you're walking around like a zombie." She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes shrewdly. "You're missing that man like hell, aren't you?"

"No—yes—I mean . . ." Katy's stammered denial trailed away to nothing in the face of Jane's smug grin. Sighing heavily, she walked to the couch and sank down in one corner, her shoulders drooping. Her eyes remained fixed on her plucking fingers as they toyed absently with a loose thread in the upholstered arm. She sent up a prayer that one of the kids would wake up and give her an excuse to escape. There wasn't a hope in hell that Jane would just let the matter drop.

Katy risked a quick glance at her friend, then wished she hadn't. Jane was still standing there with her hands on her hips, watching her with that I-dare-you-to-deny-it smirk on her face.

"Oh, all right. You win. So maybe I do miss him a little," Katy admitted grudgingly. "We've been married over two months now and . . . and"—she paused and shrugged—"we've become friends and I'm used to having him around. That's all."

"Horse feathers!" Jane snorted succinctly. "When a friend goes on a trip you say 'so long, Charlie' and go on about your business. Only when you're in love do you count the days until a man returns."

A high-pitched wail from the nursery drew Jane toward the door. With her hand on the knob, she stopped and looked back at Katy's stunned face. "Think about it, Katy," she said softly.

Well, she'd thought about it all right. With a sigh, Katy let the lacy pane! fall back into place and turned toward the lonely bed. Since Jane had made that astounding observation she had thought of nothing else.

And slowly, relentlessly, the truth had forced its way to the surface. She was in love with Trace.

Katy stretched out full length on the bed and stared through the darkness at the ceiling. How had it happened? When had she lost her fear of Trace? In two months' time she had gone from lying in his arms like a slab of granite, to the point where she could not sleep without him by her side.

Looking back on the past two months, Katy realized there had been no one occasion that had marked the change in their relationship; it had been a gradual process. With infinite care and patience, Trace had shown her repeatedly that she could trust him. As that trust had grown, her fear had receded. Those horror-filled moments in the woods would probably always haunt her to some extent, but she knew now that she could no longer equate Trace's touch with the vile, unspeakable things those two men had tried to do to her. There was not even the vaguest similarity between their violent lust and her husband's tender, passionate love.

Once her fear had been conquered, it had been impossible to hold in check the powerful attraction that had always existed between them. Each night, when Trace held her in his arms, it became more and more difficult for her to pull away before their lovemaking reached its ultimate conclusion. Her body ached for the fulfillment only Trace could give.

A delicious shiver raced through Katy's body as she recalled the heart-stopping sensations Trace could so easily arouse in her. With a look or touch he could turn her bones to water. When he held her and kissed her as though he would draw her into his very soul, nothing else in the world mattered.

Yet, for a while, Katy had stubbornly refused to admit that the attraction between them was anything more than physical. It was easier that way. Physical attraction could be denied fulfillment; love could not.

But she could no longer ignore her feelings. It had taken only these few days apart for her to realize that without him she was miserable. What was it Trace had said? When you find that one right person it's like finding your other half? Katy smiled. He was certainly right about that.

Rolling onto her side, Katy buried her face in Trace's pillow, then groaned. Mattie had changed the sheets that morning and the clean linens smelled only of soap and the freshness of outdoors. Now even Trace's scent was missing.

Her longing for him had reached an intensity that was painful. As she lay there staring into the darkness, feeling sick with need, Katy made the most momentous, most difficult decision of her life. It could no longer be avoided or postponed. When Trace returned she would let him know that she loved him, and that she was ready for their marriage to be a real one. How she would do it, she hadn't the slightest idea. She couldn't quite see herself just walking up to him and blurting it out.

With a sigh, Katy hugged his pillow against her chest. Somehow she'd find a way. They couldn't go on like this.