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Authors: Susan Tracy

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BOOK: Yesterday's Bride
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They were in for a surprise. Leigh had expected the car Jason mentioned to be an old one, used for farm errands. Anything less like a farm vehicle than the sleek red Porsche parked there she had never seen.

Positive that there must be some mistake, Leigh took Jody by the hand and marched to the back door. She found Smitty in the utility room, knee-deep in laundry.

"Smitty, the only car in the garage is a red Porsche. That can't be the one Jason meant me to use. I'd be scared to drive anything so expensive."

"Then you'd better plan to stay home today. That's the one, all right. Arrived yesterday."

"You mean it's brand new!" In amazement, Leigh sagged against the doorframe.

"Yep. Jason said you'd need something to get around in, and he just couldn't imagine you in the pickup." With a chuckle, Smitty picked up an armful of towels and put them into the automatic washer.

Still reeling at the thought that Jason had bought a car for her to use, Leigh led Jody back across the yard and they set off.

They had a glorious time. Following Smitty's suggestion, they drove to the northern end of the farm, to the site of a small pond used sometimes for irrigation and other times for fishing.

Spring was in full bloom. The belt of trees they had to walk through after parking the car was bursting with tender new green leaves. At the end of the wooded area, a lush meadow sloped down to the water which shone a clear blue in reflection of the cloudless sky. For a while, Leigh and Jody walked, after they had first put their picnic things down near the water's edge. They climbed the slight incline of the meadow where wild flowers grew in a profusion of vivid color. Once they saw a cardinal, its feathers scarlet tipped with black, hopping along a few yards in front of them. Intent on its prey of a fat worm, the bird didn't spot them, so Leigh put her fingers to her lips to alert Jody and they stood still and silent, holding their breaths until he flew away.

Jody liked the flowers even more than the birds. Every so often she would stop to pick a particularly pretty specimen. Leigh's favorites were the cool, wild violets, their delicate purple petals in such contrast to their dark green leaves. As they walked alongside a barbed wire fence, she saw a whole clump of the flowers just inside the enclosed area, and had to talk fast to convince Jody that it was not a good idea to climb under the fence to pick them. To the child's delight, while they stood there an inquisitive cow wandered up. She observed them placidly from velvet brown eyes, and then regally dismissed them in favor of a patch of sweet grass farther along.

After their ramble, Jody was content to rest for a brief time on the blanket Leigh had spread on the ground. Leigh sat beside her, with her arms loosely clasped around her knees, drinking in the beauty of the spot until the drone of a jet plane overhead interrupted her reverie. It was time for lunch anyway, so she unpacked the sandwiches she had made, the Thermos of lemonade and the fruit, and they ate their fill.

It was a very drowsy Jody she tucked into bed for a nap later at the house, the exercise and fresh air having taken their toll. Leigh felt much the same herself, as she told Smitty when she went downstairs.

"Whew! That child has more energy than a troop of Marines." Leigh grinned and dropped into a chair at the well-scrubbed kitchen table where Smitty was peeling potatoes for dinner. "It feels good to sit down." She glanced around the spotless kitchen. "Where's Carrie?"

"Her rheumatism usually starts acting up right after lunch."

Leigh could have sworn that the dour Smitty's lips actually twitched. Settling back, Leigh nodded toward the mound of tiny new potatoes and asked, "Can I help?"

Smitty lifted her gray-streaked head and for the first time since Leigh had walked into the room gave her her full attention.

"You look like you could use a cup of tea."

"Could I ever!" Leigh answered with a laugh.

In a fluid movement, she stood up and went to switch on the electric kettle. "I'll make it. Will you join me?"

"You won't want it served in the drawing room, then?" Smitty's tone was odd.

An incredulous Leigh turned around. "Goodness, no! Whatever for?" Surely she hadn't given Smitty the impression that she considered herself too good to drink tea in the kitchen.

"Miss Knight likes hers set out in the silver service and brought to the drawing room when she's here. She says that's the proper way." A brown curl of potato peel was plopped smartly down on the tabletop.

The singing of the kettle saved Leigh from having to answer, and before long, she had deftly produced two earthenware mugs filled with the strong brew.

Smitty shoved aside the potatoes to make room for hers while Leigh set out the sugar bowl and cream pitcher.

"So you had a good morning, did you?"

"Lovely. Jody did want to go wading in the pond, but I talked her out of it."

"The child's taken to you."

"She's a love." Leigh's smile faded for an instant. "I'm going to miss her."

"I guess Jason told you he's heard from Clare."

"Yes."

Smitty watched as Leigh absentmindedly stirred a third spoonful of sugar into her mug.

"Are you worried about leaving here?"

"Not exactly." Leigh picked up her mug, sipped and grimaced at the overly sweet taste.

"What's bothering you, then?"

At Smitty's tart question, Leigh jerked out of the abstraction that had held her. "I'm sorry, Smitty. I'm not very good company." She sighed and fiddled with a teaspoon. "You might as well know. Jason has asked me to stay," she said slowly.

"Well, you want to, don't you?" Smitty's shrewd eyes didn't miss much.

Pushing away the mug of too sweet tea, Leigh propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands.

"Yes," she admitted. "I want to stay. But it's not that simple. Everything is the same as it was five years ago, except that this time I know exactly where I stand with Jason."

"Didn't you know before? He married you."

"Yes, he married me. He thought that if he had a wife, Bob wouldn't feel so guilty about leaving to take that job in South America. At least, that's what Clare told me when she came to my room after the wedding ceremony to help me change. I guess she felt sorry for me," Leigh said wearily. She saw no reason not to tell Smitty, who was, after all, part of the family.

"So that's why you ran off." Smitty shook her head as she got up to take the mugs to the sink. "I never knew. I didn't come to the wedding, you know, Leigh, because I was down with a bout of pleurisy." Turning to the cupboards, she reached up to a high shelf and took down a bowl, which she placed in front of Leigh, the gesture somehow conveying acceptance.

"Clare's all right, but she had no business butting in. Too meddlesome by half." With that acerbic comment, she handed Leigh a small paring knife and shoved half the mound of potatoes toward her.

For a while they worked in silence, each busy with her own thoughts.

"Did Jason ever talk to you about his mother?" Smitty asked suddenly.

"No, he doesn't say much about his family. I do know that his mother died a few years before his father."

"She ran off with another man." Smitty said the words bluntly, her mouth pinched into a thin line.

"She never did like it here on the farm. Bryan, Jason's father, met and married her in Boston. She came from a socially prominent family, used to all sorts of parties, shopping, the like. I reckon the farm came as a real shock to her. It wasn't quite so prosperous in those days. The family had had a hard time during the Depression. Anyway, for a while, Jason's father pampered her, let things go here to take her places. But after the boys were born, he wanted to settle down. Not Marjorie. No sir. She got even more restless, started going off on her own, said she was visiting her family, but who knows what she did. Finally she just took off for good, with a man she met on one of her jaunts. Fair near to killed Jason's dad. He was crazy about her, and when she left he was never the same. He didn't care about anything after that, even his sons." Smitty's voice tapered sadly off.

"How old was Jason when she left?"

"Twelve. Old enough to feel it and to see what it did to his father. The boy took it hard. He had always looked up to his dad." Smitty sighed deeply, her light brown eyes moist. "That's when I came here, to look after them. Heaven knows they needed somebody. It broke your heart to see Jason. All the work around here fell on his shoulders and he had to grow up fast. He did, too. Got things in hand. Looked after his brother, sent him off for a good education." She paused, remembering. "Bob was younger, and it didn't affect him as much. And, you see, he had Jason." The last starkly spoken words carried a picture of caring responsibility and of loneliness for a boy too young to shoulder such burdens, and Leigh felt a lump rise in her throat.

Smitty's hands lay uncharacteristically idle for a moment. "So you see," she went on, "Jason's never had much cause to think highly of women." She sent Leigh a pointed look. "Oh, I'm not saying there weren't women in his life. The girls around here chased after him like mad and he's not a monk."

Embarrassed, she stood up, grumbling about wasting time and not getting her work done. She gathered up the now full bowls from the table and went to the sink.

"Thank you, Smitty," Leigh said softly. "I can understand much better now."

She did, Leigh thought, gazing blindly at the smooth surface of the table. Jason carried a scar, inflicted on him at a young and vulnerable age. And her own behavior must have reinforced it. When she ran away after the wedding, he must have felt that she was exactly like his mother, unable to stand life away from the bright lights. At least his affections hadn't been involved then, only his pride. Leigh wondered if the hurt he had suffered would ever heal. There was always the possibility that it wouldn't. But there could be a chance that patience and love could work a cure.

She shivered as she stood up. The question facing her was whether she had the courage to take that chance.

Leigh spent the rest of the afternoon with Jody, playing a game of toss in the garden with a big, brightly striped ball. After a while, when the workers had left, they wandered over to inspect the new swimming pool. It was kidney-shaped, set into a wide patio made of dark gray slate slabs. As Jason had said, the work was almost finished, just a few more turquoise tiles to cement from the looks of things. With Jody asking a hundred eager questions about when it would be filled with water, they turned to go.

Smitty had plans to attend a meeting of her women's club tonight, so she left a casserole bubbling in the oven. After giving Leigh last-minute instructions about its serving, she pinned on a beige straw hat and set off.

Unsure about the degree of formality Jason expected at dinner in his own home, Leigh changed into a simple cotton dress of pale blue. As she was brushing out her hair, she noticed vaguely that her exposure to the sun in the last few days had streaked it slightly, turning some of the strands almost white.

She went down and sat in the drawing room to wait for Jason since it was almost eight. On a side table lay a heavy tome which she picked up and leafed idly through. But then, feeling restless, she rose to go outside to stroll in the fast-gathering dusk. A slight distance down the driveway, she turned back to stare pensively at the gracious old home that had housed Jason's family for generations. Now, for all intents and purposes, he was alone there.

She walked slowly back, her thoughts centered on Jason. He was a strong, self-sufficient man, but Leigh wondered if he ever felt a need for someone to confide in, or just to be with. Despite his heavy business demands and occasional family responsibilities, he must be lonely at times. After all, he had no one person he could call solely his own.

He would have, if she agreed to stay with him. His request of last night had been simmering in her mind all day—while she chased Jody across the meadow, even as she talked to Smitty—but she had no answer. Leigh thought she could make him happy. She just wasn't sure she could endure the bittersweet pain that would come from living with a man who wanted her body, but not her love.

Chapter Eight

BOOK: Yesterday's Bride
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