CHAPTER NINE

Arabella woke to the sound of voices the next morning. She sat up in bed, her pale blue gown twisted around her slender body, her long brown hair a tangle around her shoulders, just as Mary knocked briefly then opened the door, rushing inside.

“Hello!” she said, laughing, as she hugged Arabella and placed a bag of souvenir items on the bed. Mary was tan and relaxed and looked lovely. “These are all for you,” she said. “T-shirts, shell things, necklaces, skirts, and even a few postcards. Did you miss me?”

“Oh, Mary, yes, I did,” Arabella said with a long sigh, hugging her back. Mary was the best, and the only, real friend she’d ever had. “Things are getting so complicated.”

“I heard you and Ethan are going to be married,” Mary continued, all eyes.

Arabella’s face fell. “Yes. Well, that was just what we told Miriam. The wedding is off.”

“But your gown!” Mary protested, nodding toward the box in the armchair. “Coreen told us all about it.”

“It’s going back today,” Arabella said firmly. “Ethan broke off the engagement last night. He wants Miriam back.”

Mary sat very still. “He what?”

“Wants Miriam back,” Arabella said quietly. “She’s changed, or so he says. They’ve gotten real thick in the past couple of days.” Which was odd, she told herself, because she herself had gotten real thick with Ethan in the past couple of days. She felt sick all over. “And I’m leaving,” she added, giving in to a decision she’d made the night before. “I hate to ask when you’re just off the plane, but could you drive me into Jacobsville later?”

Mary almost refused, but the look in her friend’s eyes killed all her hopeful words. Whatever had happened, Arabella had been terribly hurt by it. “All right,” she said with a forced smile. “I’ll be glad to. Does Ethan know you’re going?”

“Not yet,” Arabella said. “He doesn’t need to. He fell yesterday and got concussed.” She had to bite back all her concern for him. She couldn’t afford to let it show. “He’s all right. Miriam’s taking care of him, and that’s the way he wants it. He said so.”

Mary knew there had to be more to it than that, but she kept her silence. “I’ll let you dress and pack. I gather that I’m not to tell anyone you’re going?”

“Please.”

“All right. Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

“I’ll do that. Could you…take that with you?” she asked, nodding toward the box.

Mary picked it up, thinking privately that it was a pity Ethan had waited until she bought the dress to call off the wedding. He didn’t seem to care very much for Arabella’s feelings, either, because she was obviously crushed.

“I’ll see you directly,” Arabella said as Mary went out and closed the door.

She got dressed, minus the bra that she still couldn’t fasten, in a suit with a thick jacket that she buttoned up. She packed her few things with her good hand and tied a scarf around her neck to hold the cast at her waist. It got heavy when she moved around very much. She picked up her suitcase, then, after a final glance in the mirror at her pale face without makeup, left the room where she’d been so happy and so sad.

There was one last thing she wanted to do. She had to say goodbye to Ethan. She wouldn’t admit, even to herself, how much she hoped he’d changed his mind.

Actually, at that moment, Ethan was having a long talk with a quiet and dejected Miriam. He’d asked for the truth, and she’d reluctantly given it to him, her conscience pricked by the conversation that Ethan didn’t know she’d had with Arabella the night before.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” she told him, smiling mistily. “You’ve been so different, and I saw the way things could have been if you’d loved me when we first married. I knew I didn’t stand a chance against Arabella, so I had other men to get even,” she confessed for the first time. She met his eyes apologetically. “You should have married her. I’m sorry I made things difficult for you. And I’m very sorry about the lie I told yesterday.”

Ethan was having trouble breathing properly. All he could think of was what he’d said to Arabella the night before. He’d been out of his muddled head with anger.

“I called off the wedding,” he said absently, and winced.

“She’ll forgive you,” Miriam said sadly. “I’m sure she feels the same way about you.” She reached out and touched his face. “I do love my Jared, you know.” She sighed. “I ran because of the baby. I thought he wouldn’t want it, but now I’m not so sure. I could at least give him the benefit of the doubt, I suppose. I didn’t sleep last night thinking about it. I’ll phone him this morning and see what develops.”

“You may find he wants the baby as much as you do,” he replied. He smiled at her. “I’m glad we can part as friends.”

“So am I,” she said fervently. “Not that I deserve it. I know I’ve been a royal pain in the neck.”

“Not so much anymore,” he assured her.

“I’ll go and make that call. Thank you, Ethan, for everything. I’m so sorry about what I did. You deserve more than I ever gave you.” She bent and kissed him with warm tenderness.

He reached up, giving her back the kiss, for old times’ sake. A kiss of parting, between friends, with no sexual overtones.

That was what Arabella saw when she stopped in the open door. A kiss that wasn’t sexual and held such exquisite tenderness that it made her feel like a voyeur. She knew she’d gone white. So it was that way. They’d reconciled. Miriam loved him and now they were going to remarry and live happily ever after. Miriam had won.

She smiled bitterly and retraced her steps so that they didn’t even know she’d been in the room.

She ran into Coreen going down the staircase.

“I’m just on my way to see Ethan….” She stopped dead, staring at Arabella’s suitcase.

“Mary’s driving me to town,” Arabella said, her voice a little wobbly. “And I wouldn’t disturb Ethan just now, if I were you. He’s rather involved with Miriam.”

“Oh, this is getting completely out of hand!” Coreen said harshly. “Why won’t he listen?”

“He’s in love with her, Coreen,” the younger woman said. “He can’t help that, you know. He said last night that it was really only out of pity that he asked me here. He wanted me, but he loves Miriam. It would never have worked. It’s best that I leave now, so that I won’t be an embarrassment to him.”

“My dear,” Coreen said miserably. She hugged Arabella warmly. “You know the door is always open. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. Mary was going to take the dress back to the store for me, but…but Miriam might like it,” she said bravely. “All it would need is a little alteration.”

“I’ll take care of the dress,” Coreen said. “Will you be all right? Where will you go?”

“I’ll go to a motel for the time being. I’ll phone my father when I’ve settled in. Don’t worry, I’ve got money, thanks to Ethan’s intervention. I won’t go hungry, and I can take care of myself. But thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget you.”

“I’ll never forget you either, darling,” Coreen said quietly. “Keep in touch, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Arabella lied with a smile. That was the very last thing she intended doing now, for Ethan’s sake.

She followed Mary out to the car after exchanging farewells with Betty Ann and a puzzled Matt. She didn’t even look back as the car wound down the driveway to the road.

Just as Arabella was going out to the car, Miriam was lifting her head and smiling at Ethan. “Not bad. I’m sorry we didn’t make it. Shall I go downstairs and explain it all to Arabella and your mother?” she asked with a grimace. “I guess they’ll pitch me out the back door on my head when I get through.”

“It’s my head that’s going to be in danger, I’m afraid,” he said ruefully. “No, I’ll handle it. You’d better go and call your Caribbean connection.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

He watched her go, and lay back against the pillows. He’d heard Matt and Mary come in and he was waiting for them to come and say hello. Maybe he could get Arabella up here and try to sort things out before it was too late. He heard a car door slam twice and an engine rev up, and he frowned. Surely Mary and Matt weren’t leaving already.

Minutes later, a coldly furious Coreen walked into his room and glared at him.

“Well, I hope you’re happy,” she told him. “You’ve got what you wanted. She just left.”

He sat up, scowling at her. “Who just left?” he asked with a chilling sense of loss.

“Arabella,” Coreen informed him. “She said you’d called off the wedding. She left her dress for Miriam and said to congratulate you on your forthcoming remarriage.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” he burst out. He threw his legs off the bed and tried to get up, but his head was still spinning with the aftereffects of the day before. He sat down again and rubbed his forehead. “I’m not marrying Miriam! Where in hell did she get that idea?”

“From you, I suppose, after the bite you apparently took out of her last night. And something must have been going on in here when she left, because she said you and Miriam were involved when she came downstairs.”

She’d seen Miriam kiss him. He remembered the kiss, realized how it would look to an outsider, and he groaned out loud. “My God, I’ve got a knack for ruining my life,” he said with a rough sigh. “I must have a deep-buried death wish. Where did she go?”

“To a motel, she said. Mary will know which one.”

He lifted his head, and his eyes were anguished. “She’ll call her father,” he said. “He’ll be here like a shot to take her over again.”

“Do remember who pushed her out of the door, won’t you, dear boy?” his mother asked with smiling venom.

“I thought she’d deserted me!” he burst out.

“As if Arabella would do any such thing,” she scoffed. “How could you have believed it?”

“Because I had a concussion and I was half out of my head,” he returned angrily.

“And what did she see on her way out that convinced her Miriam needed the wedding gown?” Coreen added.

“I kissed her. She kissed me,” he corrected. He threw up his hands. “Miriam’s going back to the Caribbean to marry the father of her child, if everything works out all right,” he said. “It was a goodbye kiss.”

“You fool,” Coreen said evenly. “Four years ago, you put Arabella’s welfare above your own. You married the wrong woman and cheated her as well as yourself, and now you’ve thrown away the second chance you might have had. Why didn’t you tell Arabella how you feel about her!”

He lowered his eyes. Some things he couldn’t share, even with his mother. “She’s career-minded. She always was. She came here because she was hurt and needed some security. She was reluctant from the first when I tried to get her to marry me. I think she was afraid that she’d be able to play again and be stuck here with me.”

“More likely she was afraid you were just using her as a blind for the feelings you had for Miriam,” Coreen replied. “She said you only wanted her, but you loved Miriam. She believed it.”

Ethan sighed heavily and lay back down. “I’ll go after her, when I get my head together.”

“Never mind,” Coreen said. “She won’t come back. She’s let you cut up her heart twice already. She won’t risk it again.”

His eyes opened. “What do you mean, cut up her heart?”

“Ethan,” she said patiently, “she was in love with you four years ago. Desperately in love. She thought Miriam just wanted what you had, not you. She was trying to protect you, but you accused her of interfering and God knows what else. She ran then, too, and kept running. Didn’t you ever wonder why she arranged to come here to see Jan, and later Mary, only when she knew you wouldn’t be here?”

“No, because I was too busy making sure I didn’t have to see her,” he said doggedly. He averted his eyes. “It hurt too much. I was married, Miriam wouldn’t divorce me….” His broad shoulders rose and fell. “I couldn’t bear the torment of seeing her and not being able to touch her honorably.” He looked up at his mother. “How do you know how she felt about me?” he asked.

“It’s obvious,” she said simply. “She chose music as a substitute, just as you chose Miriam. You’re both fools. What a horrible waste of time.”

Ethan was inclined to agree. So Arabella had loved him. He lay back down and closed his eyes, trying to imagine how it would have been if he’d given up his plans to save her from what he thought would have been a mistake, if he’d married her instead. They’d have children by now, they’d be a family. Arabella would sleep in his arms every night and love him. He couldn’t bear the images that haunted him. He’d driven her away a second time with his idiotic accusations, and now he’d probably never be able to get her back. He heard his mother leave, but he didn’t bother to open his eyes.

* * *

Arabella got a room in a downtown Jacobsville motel. There were several to choose from, but her favorite was an adobe-style one with a Spanish flavor. She settled into her room, trying not to think how bare and austere and impersonal it was compared to the one she’d had at the Hardeman ranch.

Mary hadn’t wanted to leave her there, but she’d insisted. She couldn’t stay in the house now that she knew how it was between Ethan and Miriam. It was too painful. A clean break was best. She picked up the phone when she’d unpacked and phoned her father in Dallas. The cast came off in nine days. Her father would meet her here then and they’d go back to Houston. He’d sublet their apartment there while he was in Dallas, but they could get another temporarily. Odd that it didn’t even bother her to think about being back with her parent again. She didn’t feel intimidated any more.

Time went by slowly. Mary came to visit, but Arabella was reluctant to listen to any news from the ranch, especially about Ethan. She didn’t want to hear what was going on at the house, it would be too painful. The only reality was that Ethan hadn’t bothered to call or come by or even drop her a postcard, even though he knew by now—or so Mary had said before Arabella protested listening to news of Ethan—that Miriam had lied about the phone call. He knew, but he wouldn’t apologize for the things he’d said. He never apologized, she reflected. Since Miriam was still with him, why should he bother? He and Arabella were now past history.

Meanwhile, Ethan was trying to come to grips with his own idiocy. He was certain that Arabella wouldn’t listen to him. He couldn’t blame her; he’d certainly been eloquent in his condemnation. He thought it would be better if he let things cool down for a few days before they had a showdown. In the meantime, Miriam’s man was on his way up to Texas. They’d reconciled and Miriam had been on a cloud ever since, barely coherent except when she was talking about the planter she was going to marry. Ethan enjoyed her company, especially now that he was well and truly off the hook, now that he was able to understand the past and why things had happened the way they had. Miriam had suffered an unfortunate experience with a family friend as a child. As a result, she’d become brittle in her dealings with men, and very hostile toward them. Only now, secure in her pregnancy and the love of her planter, was she able to come to grips with the past that had made her what she was when she’d married Ethan.

Ethan’s only regret was that he’d married her in the first place. It had been unfair to her, to Arabella and even to himself. He should have followed his instincts, which were to marry Arabella and let the chips fall where they may. He’d never been able to give Miriam anything except the dregs of his desires for another woman and, eventually, not even that. He hadn’t understood that Miriam’s childhood had made it impossible for her to give herself wholly to any man. She’d been looking for love in a series of impossible physical liaisons that were only briefly satisfying. She’d wanted Ethan’s love, but he’d withheld it, and she’d tried to punish him. Arabella, though, had suffered as well, trapped in a career that her father controlled, with no hope of escape.

It had thrilled him when Coreen had told him Arabella had once loved him. But he didn’t know what she felt now. She probably hated him. He’d started for town three times in the past several days, but he’d stopped. She needed time. So did he.

Mary came up the steps as he was going down them, and he stopped her, trying not to look as unhappy as he felt.

“How is she?” he asked bluntly, because he was certain she’d been to see her friend.

“Lonely,” Mary said, her voice gentle. “The cast comes off Tuesday.”

“Yes.” He stared off over the tree-lined horizon. “Is her father here yet?”

“He’ll be here Tuesday.” Mary was nervous of Ethan, but she hesitated. “She won’t talk about you,” she said. “She doesn’t look well.”

He glanced down at her with flashing silver eyes. “Nobody told her to leave,” he said cuttingly, stung by the remark.

“How could she stay, knowing that you’re going to marry Miriam all over again?” she asked. “I guess you two do deserve each other,” she added with the first show of spirit Ethan had ever seen in her, and she was gone before he could correct her impression of the situation.

What made everyone think Miriam was marrying him? He sighed angrily as he went down the steps. Probably because neither of them had told the rest of the family what was going on. Well, when her planter arrived they’d get the picture. For now, he couldn’t let himself dwell on how bad Arabella looked. If he thought about it long enough, he was sure he’d go stark, raving mad.

Mary and Matt had studiously ignored Miriam since Arabella’s departure, and Coreen had been so coldly polite to the woman that she might as well have had icicles dripping off her. Ethan tried to make up for his family, which only reinforced their speculation about Miriam’s status in his life.

Miriam’s intended and Arabella’s father arrived in town at the same time. While Jared was being introduced to the Hardemans, Arabella was having the cast off and being told that her hand and wrist had healed almost to perfection. Her father had beamed at the specialist. But only at first.

“Almost to perfection,” Dr. Wagner repeated, frowning at Arabella’s father. “Translated, that means that Miss Craig will play the piano again. Unfortunately it also means that she will never regain her former mastery. Severed tendons are never the same when they heal, for the primary reason that they’re shortened by the process of reattaching them. I’m sorry.”

Arabella didn’t realize how much she’d been counting on favorable prognosis. She collapsed into tears.

Her father forgot his own disappointment when he saw hers. Clumsily, he took her in his arms and held her, patting her ineffectually on the back while he murmured words of comfort.

He took her out to dinner that night. She dressed in her one good cocktail dress, black with a scattering of sequins, and knotted her long hair at her nape. She looked elegant, but even with the unwieldy cast off, she felt dowdy. The skin that had been under the cast was unnaturally pale and there were scars. But she kept her hand in her lap and in the dark atmosphere of the restaurant and lounge, she was certain that nobody noticed.

“What will we do?” Arabella asked quietly.

Her father sighed. “Well, for now, I’ll see about releasing some of the new recordings and re-releasing the older ones.” He looked across the table at her. “I haven’t been much of a father, have I? Deserting you after the wreck…I guess you thought I didn’t want you without a career to keep us up.”

“Yes, I did,” she confessed.

“The wreck brought back your mother’s accident,” he said. It was a subject he’d never discussed before, but she sensed that he was getting something off his chest. “Arabella, she died because I had one drink too many at a party. I was driving, and my reaction time was down. Oh, there were no charges,” he said with a cold laugh when he saw her expression. “I wasn’t even legally drunk. But the police knew, and I knew, that I could have reacted quicker and avoided the other car. She died instantly. I’ve lived with that guilt for so long.” He leaned back in his chair, making patterns in the condensation on his water glass. “I couldn’t admit my mistake. I buried the past in my mind and concentrated on you. I was going to be noble, I was going to dedicate my life to your talent, to your glorious career.” He studied her wan face. “But you didn’t want a career, did you? You wanted Ethan Hardeman.”

“And he wanted Miriam, so what difference does it make now? In fact,” she added without looking at him, “Miriam is back and they’re reconciling.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He studied her. “You know, the wreck brought it all back,” he continued. “Your mother’s death, trying to cope without her, trying to live with my guilt.” He studied his locked-together fingers on the table. “You needed me and I couldn’t bear to face you. I came so close to losing you the way I lost her….”

His voice broke and Arabella suddenly saw her father as a man. Just a man, with all the fears and failings of any other human. It shocked her to realize that he wasn’t omnipotent. Parents always seemed to be, somehow.

“I didn’t remember how Mama died,” she said, searching for words. “And I certainly didn’t blame you for our wreck. There was nothing you could have done. Really,” she emphasized when he lifted tormented eyes to hers. “Dad, I don’t blame you.”

He bit his lower lip hard and looked away. “Well, I blamed me,” he said. “I called Ethan because there was no one else, but I thought in a way, it might make up to you what I’d cheated you out of. I figured with your hand in that shape, Ethan might decide to stop being noble and give you a chance.”

“Thank you,” she said gently. “But all Ethan wants is his ex-wife. Maybe that’s just as well. Four years ago, I worshipped the ground he walked on, but I’m older now….”

“And still in love with him,” he finished for her. He shook his head. “All my efforts backfired, didn’t they? All right, Arabella. What do you want to do now?”

She was amazed that he was asking her opinion. It was a first—like realizing that he was human and fallible. She liked him much better this way. It was a whole new relationship, because he was treating her like an adult for the first time. “Well, I don’t want to stay in Jacobsville,” she said firmly. “The sooner we can leave here, the better.”

“I guess I’ll have to go to Houston and find a place, first,” he said. “Then I’ll see what I can do about finding myself a job.” He waved aside her objections. “I’ve spent altogether too much time in the past. You have a right to your own life. I’m only sorry that it took another near-fatal wreck to bring me to my senses.”

Arabella slid her hand into his and clasped it warmly. “You’ve been very good to me, Dad,” she said gently. “I don’t have any complaints.”

“Are you sure about Miriam?” he asked with a frown. “Because I don’t believe Ethan really wanted to marry her in the first place. And I know he was damned near crazy when I phoned him about you being hurt in the wreck.”

“I’m sure,” she said, closing the book on that subject forever.

He relented. “All right. We’ll start again. And don’t worry about that hand,” he added. “You can always teach, if everything else fails.” He smiled at her gently. “There’s a great deal of satisfaction in seeing someone you’ve coached become famous. Take my word for it.”

She smiled at him. “I can live with that,” she said. Inwardly, she was almost relieved. She loved to play the piano, but she’d never wanted the tours, the endless road trips, the concerts. Now they were gone forever, and she wasn’t really sorry.

Her father left the next morning for Houston in the car he’d rented for the trip to Jacobsville. Arabella was lazy, not rising until late morning. She decided to have lunch in the restaurant and went early.

Their seafood was delicious, so she ordered that and settled back to wait for it.

Incredible how her life had changed, she thought as she came to grips finally with what the surgeon had told her about her hand. What could have been traumatic wasn’t that at all. She accepted it with relative ease. Of course, her father’s new attitude had helped.

She felt a shadow fall over her and turned with an automatic smile to face the waiter. But it wasn’t a waiter. It was Ethan Hardeman.