CHAPTER FIVE
“You should have told me,” he said as they lay entwined together staring at the silvery leaves of the cottonwood tree that were turning in the wind.
“Told you?” she repeated, letting out a sigh of contentment.
“You were a virgin.”
One side of her mouth lifted. “Okay, I was a virgin!”
“Jeez, Dani . . .”
She levered up on one elbow and her naked breast touched his chest. “Would it have mattered?”
“Yes . . . no . . . hell, how would I know?” He ran stiff fingers through his hair.
“I take it you weren’t.”
“Oh, for cryin’ out loud!” He wanted to be angry with her or himself or anyone, but he couldn’t. Seeing the spark of life in her amber eyes and the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth, his fury dissipated into the summer-sweet air. The white horse snorted and pawed at the earth as if impatient. “I just assumed that—”
“That I’d done it?” she cut in. “Stupid, Brand. I think you were the one who told me not to assume anything.”
He ignored her nipple brushing the inside of his arm. “Then I don’t suppose you’re on the Pill.”
“Why would I be?” she asked, then the color drained from her face. With a self-deprecating laugh, she shook her head and picked a wildflower, twirled the stem, making the white petals blur like the blades of a helicopter. “I never thought I’d ever have to worry about getting pregnant.”
“I think you . . . we should worry about it now.”
She sighed and bit her lip. “What would you do if it happened—if I was going to have a baby?”
“Marry you,” he said without a second’s hesitation.
“You would?” For a moment, the light of anticipation shone in her eyes.
“I’d never leave my kid,” he said flatly, “regardless of how I felt about his mother.”
“Even if you didn’t love her?”
“Wouldn’t matter,” he admitted, thinking of his own upbringing. “A kid needs a name, a picture, a face to recognize the man who sired him.”
Dani touched his arm. “What if the girl refused to marry you?”
“That wouldn’t be an option.” He stared at her long and hard. “Love doesn’t matter.” Then, as if tired of the conversation, he rolled her onto her back and held her hands over her head. “Now, let’s forget about all that for now. The damage has already been done, right?”
“Right,” she said, and he watched her pulse begin to throb as he raked his gaze down her body, seeing past her fading tan lines, where her bathing-suit top had covered her breasts, and looking at those luscious brown disks. He kissed her nipple and watched her respond, her pelvis tilting upward, her nest of blond curls still dewy from their last encounter. He grew hard again and knew in that instant that he was lost. No matter how much he tried, he wouldn’t be able to get Dani Donahue out of his system. He could make love to her for hours and only end up hungering for more.
Closing his mind to thoughts of pregnancy, he delved into her delicious warmth again and intended to love her until he couldn’t drag in another breath.
* * *
A week later, Brand drove home after an unholy day at work and spied an expensive car pulling out of the driveway. A white Mercedes. Brand’s stomach lurched. As far as he knew, there was only one white Benz in the whole damned valley and that particular car belonged in Jonah McKee’s vast fleet. Teeth on edge, Brand parked his bike and strode through the back door. “Ma?” he yelled, his boot heels ringing as he swept through the covered porch and kitchen. “Ma, you home? What the hell was Jonah McKee doing here?”
He found her in the living room, standing at the window, staring outside. She’d been drinking; a half-filled bottle of wine stood near her empty glass—only one. Apparently, McKee hadn’t been here for a taste of cheap zinfandel.
“What’s going on?” Brand asked when she let out a long sigh.
“Jonah owns this house.”
“What?” Brand just stared at her. He knew that she paid a mortgage every month, but she’d never let him see the payments nor the bank statements; she’d been private about her money or lack of it for as long as he could remember. He just assumed that the house was mortgaged by the bank. “I don’t get it. You have a mortgage . . .”
“I bought this place on contract—a private contract with Jonah McKee. It was all handled through the bank. For a small fee each month they do the paperwork.”
Stunned, Brand just stood in the archway separating the living room from the foyer. “I didn’t even know you knew McKee.”
A nostalgic smile played upon her lips. “Who doesn’t know him around here?”
“But to buy the house from him . . .” Brandon was having trouble keeping up, making sense of all this.
“It’s what he does, Brand. He’s in the business of renting, leasing, selling and buying property. Anyway, the house isn’t paid off yet. He heard through the grapevine that I’m getting married and planning to move, possibly selling, and he wanted to make sure I understood the terms of our agreement.”
The hairs on the back of Brandon’s neck began to rise. Somehow his mother was going to get the raw end of the deal again; he could feel it. Well, not if he had anything to say in the matter. “Terms? What terms?”
“Sell-back terms. There’s a clause in the contract that says I can’t sell the property to anyone else without first contacting McKee Enterprises. They—well, really Jonah—have first option or something to purchase at, and I quote, ‘fair market value.’”
“Which is?” Brandon asked.
She waved as if to brush his concerns away. “Oh, he’ll take care of that.”
“I just bet he will.”
“He’s got appraisers on his payroll who’ll come up with a fair price.”
“I’d double-check that if I were you, Ma. Anyone on McKee’s payroll will be looking out for his best interests. You should have your own appraisal.”
She sighed heavily. “That’s what Al says.”
“For once we agree.”
She looked out the window one last time, then snapped the blinds shut. “Don’t worry about it. You’re going to California anyway, so what does it matter?”
“Right,” he said, unable to shake the feeling of impending doom. Jonah McKee only looked out for himself. He didn’t give a damn about a woman who had spent her life raising a bastard son. One way or another, the old man was going to try to fleece Venitia out of her money. “I just don’t trust McKee. He’s only interested in number one.”
Deep furrows cut across her brow. “You don’t even know him.”
“Just of him.”
“Careful now,” she warned. “Sometimes, because of gossip, people are slapped with names they haven’t earned.”
The remark hit deep and close to home. His own tarnished reputation was about half truth and half the imagination of the good citizens of Dawson City and Rimrock.
She found her bottle of wine and slowly refilled her glass.
“So how come you didn’t tell me you knew McKee?”
“I never wanted to bother you with business or money matters.”
“Has he ever been here before?”
She hesitated and her fingers seemed to clamp so hard around the stem of her glass, Brandon thought it might shatter. “A couple of times—when there were questions with the property taxes and when the house next door was being added on to.” Taking a sip of her wine, she closed her eyes. “Why?”
“Because I think it’s strange,” he said. “Why bother with this himself? Why not send a flunky? A big shot like him, he must have a dozen on his payroll.”
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.”
Brandon fingered a framed photo that was proudly displayed on a shelf in the living room. It had been taken years ago, when he was about seven. Only one front tooth had come in and Venitia was still young and pretty in a seductive, voluptuous way—a way Brand never liked to think of his mother. She and Brand were both grinning into the camera and the ocean stretched out behind them—a vast sea of gray-green complete with thundering waves crashing against the rocky shore. The photo had been taken on one of their rare vacations, this one to Cannon Beach. He set the photo aside. “Maybe you shouldn’t sell the place.”
“What? So now you’re nostalgic?” she said with a laugh as she downed more wine.
“Nah, but ... I know I thought you should get rid of it, but now I’m not so sure.” The thought that McKee wanted this old house made Brand think it had more value than he’d first guessed. “You know, what if things don’t work out with Al?”
“They’ll work out,” she said firmly, her eyes snapping suddenly at her son’s insolence.
“You don’t know that, Ma. You could keep this place, rent it to someone, maybe make a couple of hundred bucks a month. Make Al buy the new house in Washington.”
“But we agreed—”
“I know, I know.” He held up a hand, cutting off further argument. “Just talk to him about it and think about the future, okay? If something happens to Al—maybe he gets injured, or laid off or even dies—”
“Brand!”
“Well, or you guys split up, you’d still have the house. By that time, even the mortgage to McKee might be paid off.”
Swirling the wine in her glass, she seemed to consider his line of reasoning. “I’ll think about it,” she finally agreed, her huge eyes meeting his. “I’ll check the mortgage, see if it’s possible, and if it isn’t, I’ll talk to Jonah ... if Al agrees.”
“Good.” He felt as if he’d made a little progress.
“So, where have you been?” she finally asked as she finished her glass and set it down.
“Out.” Since Dani wasn’t telling her mother about their relationship, Brand had decided to keep it quiet on his end. No telling what that old busybody, Bess Jamison, might hear from Venitia and pass along to Dani’s mother.
Venitia straightened a stack of magazines, then dumped the ashtray into the fireplace. “You’re ‘out’ a lot these days.” Slanting him a knowing glance, she added, “My guess is you’re involved with a girl again.”
Brandon didn’t answer.
“Well, just be careful, all right?”
He ignored the jab, knowing she was referring to Miranda, the police chief’s daughter, and their hot, short-lived affair. He didn’t want to think about that mess again. “I’m always careful,” he said, lying a little. With Dani he’d been more reckless than he should have, letting his passion cloud his judgment, giving in to the pure ecstasy of loving her without thinking of the consequences.
“I guess I won’t have to worry about you.”
“Never should. I can handle myself,” he said tightly.
“Good. And I guess this new girl doesn’t mind you moving away?” She eyed her son as she wiped the ashtray with a tissue and placed the dish back on the table.
“Guess not,” he said, but continued to hold his tongue because he hadn’t yet told Dani of his plans. She’d changed everything. He’d thought he could leave Dawson City and never look over his shoulder, but then she’d come into his life and brought light into an otherwise dark existence. For the first time since he could remember, he doubted the wisdom of saying goodbye to this part of the country. All because of one whiskey-eyed strawberry blond woman who could touch his soul.
* * *
Dani hadn’t planned on an affair; didn’t know how to handle one. It wasn’t anything she’d ever expected to happen to her and she was torn inside—guilt eating at her on one hand, the thrill of being with Brand on the other hand. She kept her secret to herself and didn’t tell anyone about Brand. In the beginning she hadn’t wanted her mother to guess that she was seeing him, but now, since they’d made love, things had become more intense. The thought of another person suspecting that she and Brand were lovers seemed a violation of their privacy and would have cheapened what was so beautiful.
Irene was suspicious, of course, because of all of Dani’s prolonged absences. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were meeting some boy somewhere,” Irene grumbled one Saturday morning. “You’re never here when I get home from work and you spend a lot of hours studying at other kids’ houses.”
“I thought you wanted me to get good grades,” Dani retorted. Sooner or later she’d have to tell her mother about Brand, but she didn’t want to rock the boat just yet. It was too important that she keep seeing Brand and she didn’t want her mother to lay down some law about avoiding him. Because Dani would have to break whatever rules Irene imposed—no matter what, she wasn’t about to give up Brand. For the first time in her life, Dani Donahue was in love—head over heels in wild, passionate love.
The truth of the matter was that she had started studying. She couldn’t very well lie about doing all this homework and then end up flunking all her courses. So she was burning the candle at both ends—going to school during the day, working with the Kellogg horses, seeing Brand on the sly, then staying up until one in the morning cracking the books. She even managed to ace the government test that she’d lied to her mother about, earning her first A in years. She should have felt good about it, instead she just felt empty.
“I knew you could do it,” Irene said, retrieving the graded test when it slid out of Dani’s notebook and dropped beneath the dining-room table where Dani had stacked her books. “All it takes is a little work. Look at Skye—”
Dani’s smile froze on her face. She’d been looking up to Skye all her life, hoping that some of her older sister’s brilliance would rub off on her. “I’m not her,” she said sullenly as she dropped her backpack onto a side chair and headed into the kitchen. What would her mother think if she came to understand that Dani was only studying hard to maintain her alibi? This was getting awfully complicated.
“I know, I know,” Irene said hastily. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have compared you to your sister and I didn’t mean to. Oh, Lordy, I’ve really done it this time, haven’t I?” She followed Dani into the kitchen and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her hands moving nervously. “All these years I’ve tried to tell you how special you are, how unique, but you won’t listen. You think I’m just talking through my hat, trying to bolster your self-esteem or something. I guess I am, but more than that, I’m just letting you know that I wouldn’t trade you for a dozen more Skyes.”
“I know.” Dani grabbed a diet soda and twisted off the cap. She took a long drink and tried not to get into another argument with her mother. What was the point?
“I just want you to succeed, Danielle. At whatever it is you want to do.”
“I want to train horses, Mom. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Someday I’m going to have my own ranch, and getting all the A’s in the world won’t help me!” She saw her mother’s face fall though Irene bravely tried not to show her reaction. “I know it’s not as grand as wanting to be a doctor like Skye . . . but it’s what I like. What I’m good at.” Another swallow of cola. If she could just get out of here.
Her mind, with a will of its own, twisted back to Brandon. Always to Brandon. Midnight walks when she sneaked out of her room, wild rides on his motorcycle with the moon shining down, racing the Kellogg horses only to end up laughing and tumbling to the ground and making love beneath the cottonwood tree where Brandon had carved their initials in a crude heart. He’d climbed up nearly to the top and done the deed, saying he wanted someone to know how he felt even if it was only God and the bravest of the Kellogg grandkids who might scale the branches and eventually see his work.
Irene licked her lips. “Getting good grades never hurts, no matter what you end up doing in life. Even running a ranch, you’ve got to keep books and track of feed and animals and taxes and oh, Lordy, Dani, so many things. Owning that much land takes patience, money and hours of hard work and . . . well, honey, to be honest, you need a man to help you. It’s not a job for a woman alone.”
“Who says I’m going to be stupid enough to try to do it by myself?” Dani asked, then felt a cold hand clamp over her heart when she saw her mother’s face turn the color of chalk.
Clearing her throat, Irene twisted her ring, a silver wedding band with a few scattered diamond chips, the ring she’d transferred to her right hand the day of Thomas Donahue’s funeral some fourteen years before. “Sometimes we can’t predict what will happen to us. I never thought I’d lose Tom or not remarry . . .” Her voice trailed off and Dani swallowed back a huge lump in her throat. She should never have said anything. Irene reached for a towel and absently wiped the counter. “Lucky for all of us, Jonah was there.”
“Lucky?” Dani cringed at the man’s name. Jonah McKee, richest man in the eastern part of the state, a man who doled out his money and his affection in well-measured sums, was a first-class bastard. He acted as if he didn’t know that Irene, his secretary for ages, was half in love with him, and though he made sure that her car ran and her house was paid for, he never offered her an ounce of emotional support. But how could he? He was married. And not to Irene Donahue.
“He’s been good to me. To you,” Irene insisted.
Dani hesitated, took a long, bracing drink from her diet soda, then whispered, “Are you in love with him?” There. She’d asked the question that had lingered in the air for years, hanging between them, never asked, never answered.
“Of course not,” her mother responded. “Don’t be silly. Jonah’s married.”
“That doesn’t matter. You can love someone who’s married to someone else or . . . someone who doesn’t love you.”
Irene’s shoulders stiffened slightly and the rag stopped its smooth, circular movements. “No, Dani. I wouldn’t waste my time on a man I couldn’t have.” The towel started moving again and Dani knew that her mother was lying for the sake of her pride.
Dani didn’t blame her. Wasn’t she doing exactly the same thing, hiding the fact that she was in love, denying it to everyone but herself and Brand? Dear God, please don’t let me make the same mistake. Her insides froze at the thought. But her love with Brandon was different, wasn’t it? Brandon loved her. Though he hadn’t said it, he’d carved their initials in the cottonwood, made love to her so passionately that she thought she might die from ecstasy. Yes, it had to be different from her mother’s pathetic love for a man who acted as if she was nothing more than a hardworking employee—a woman he took care of as a matter of obligation because her husband had died in a logging accident while working for him.
Dani finished her drink as her mother folded the towel over a stainless-steel bar screwed into the inside cupboard door, then lit a cigarette with fingers that shook a little. “Your accusations are entirely out of line.”
“I didn’t accuse, just asked.”
“Well, I won’t have you dragging Jonah’s name through the mud, or mine, either, for that matter. He’s a good man. A kind man. A decent man who’s helped me when I needed it.” She struck a match and lit up. Sucking deeply, she inhaled the smoke into her lungs as if she could calm her nerves in a single throat-scorching breath.
“He’s not any of those things, Mom,” Dani said, feeling that it was time to clear the air. “That’s why I think you’re in love with him, because you can’t see him for what he really is.”
“Which is?”
Dani opened her mouth. It was on the tip of her tongue to call Jonah McKee a meddling old skinflint who ruled his family with an iron fist and shackled his wife with golden handcuffs, but what did it matter? Why inflict more pain? “I don’t know, Mom, I just ... I just want you to be happy,” she finally admitted upon seeing the silent agony in her mother’s face. “You deserve it.”
“Don’t we all?” Irene said, staring out the window, one arm surrounding her waist as if to protect herself, while she held her other hand close to her head where the cigarette burned, smoke curling up to the ceiling.
She seemed so sad and Dani knew it was her fault. Why couldn’t she just have taken the praise for her damned government grade and kept the conversation light? Why was it in her nature to always keep pushing?
“I just hope for your sake, Danielle, you’re luckier than I was.”
Please, God, don’t let her hurt anymore, Dani silently prayed as the walls seemed suddenly to be closing in, suffocating her. The conversation was too heavy and she needed to find a way out of the house.
The phone rang and Irene answered it. Dani waited to find out if it was for her, then as Irene lowered her voice, deep in a conversation she didn’t want Dani to overhear, Dani waved, grabbed her jacket and hurried out the front door. “I’ll be back later.”
“Dani? Wait!” Irene’s voice trailed after her as she raced down the steps. “Danielle? Oh, Lordy, what now? You be back soon or call me, you hear?”
“I will. Don’t worry!” Dani sang back as she tossed the jacket over her shoulders and buried her hands deep in the pockets. It was still warm outside, but Dani felt a chill settle deep in her bones.
She couldn’t worry about her mother any longer; she had her own life to live. Yet, deep in the bottom of her heart, she knew she was lying to herself. For too many years, Irene, Skye and Dani had relied on no one but each other. Oh, sure, Jonah McKee had helped out along the way, but the three women had fought with each other, held each other, banded together when things got rough. Only now, with Skye gone and Dani’s need for independence rearing its ugly head, it seemed as if the family had become fragmented to the point where she could lie so easily to her mother. About Brandon. Maybe it was time to come clean, tell her how she felt and hope for the best.
Taking the same path she’d used hundreds of times as a kid heading to the candy store or soda shop, she zigzagged through the familiar streets and vacant lots to the Shady Grove Café, an A-frame restaurant that had become a hangout for the locals and a Rimrock institution.
A help-wanted poster was plastered on the front door and Dani, after ordering a Coke and fries, talked to the head waitress about the job. Cyrus Kellogg was due back at his ranch in a couple of days, and unfortunately, Dani hadn’t found another job doing what she loved best—working with horses.
“It’s weekends,” Barbara Kingsley said, straightening the hem of her apron. “Fridays from five ’til closing, same with Saturdays. One night during the middle of the week, maybe two, depending upon the other gals’ shifts, and once in a while on Sundays.” Barbara, a woman with a shelf of a bosom and gray wig that never looked quite natural, eyed Dani speculatively. “Would cut the heck out of dating time.”
Dani thought of her moments with Brand, stolen as they were. Since they didn’t openly date and met each other at secret times when no one suspected, there would still be time to see him. Smiling, she lifted a shoulder and said, “I can handle it.” The bottom line was that she needed the money.
“Good.” Barbara seemed pleased. “Just fill out the application and I’ll give it to Joe. He’ll call you in a couple of days.”
Dani found a pen in the bottom of her purse and started filling out the form. Though she’d rather work outside with animals, or kids, or doing anything else, waitressing was a means to an end and she liked having her own money, which she used on clothes, gas for the car and her savings. Carefully she filled in all the blanks on the application and gave it back to Barbara when the waitress brought her basket of fries. This job would be better than the one in Dawson City. She’d probably make less in tips, but it was closer to home and sharing the car with her mother would be easier. She wasn’t much for going to football games or school dances, so Friday nights weren’t a big deal.
The door opened and a bell overhead tinkled loudly. “Hey, Dani!” Alison Marchant’s voice chirped above the wheeze of the overloaded air-conditioning system. Alison, a cheery, happy-go-lucky girl with the most gorgeous red hair Dani had ever seen and an overbite that needed correcting, plopped down on the other side of the booth. She wiggled a French fry out of Dani’s basket and pointed it at her friend. “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like? I just filled out an application for the weekend waitress job.”
Alison wrinkled her nose. “Weekends? Oooh. Bad idea, Dani.” She glanced around the old building. The booths were sagging, the interior paneling dark with years of smoke and grease, the floor dingy where countless mops had shoved wax into forgotten corners. Glancing at the few other patrons, Alison leaned over the table. “I meant, what are you doing here when there’s going to be a party at the lake?”
“Tonight?”
“Hmm.” Alison’s eyes sparkled. “A kegger.”
“Where?”
“At the old Mason place. No one’s been there for years and it’s out of town so no cops will show up.”
“I don’t think so.” Ever since becoming involved with Brandon, Dani had avoided parties and ignored her friends. She felt a little jab of guilt because she and Alison had been friends since second grade when Alison’s parents had split up. Both girls had grown up without a father figure in the house, though Alison still saw her dad on most weekends.
“Say you’re staying over at my house,” Alison persuaded. She leaned closer and snagged another French fry. “Besides, if you start working here, your social life as you know it will be over. May as well have one last fling just in case you’re unlucky enough to land the job.”
“I don’t know,” Dani hedged. But why not? Brandon was working overtime this evening and she probably wouldn’t see him. That thought depressed her. Also, though she hated to admit it, she knew that something was bothering Brandon. Maybe it was his mother’s upcoming marriage. From what she could glean, he didn’t approve of the guy. But Brandon was a private person and rarely opened up to her. For a second, she thought that he might want to break up with her and her heart glitched. The thought of a future without him scared her to death and Dani didn’t scare easily. She hated the feeling and a shadow slid ghostlike through her mind—what if she ended up like her mother? She swallowed hard.
Alison was going blithely on, stealing French fries and dipping them in catsup. “. . . so I figured, why not? A lot of kids will be there. Some from here, some from Dawson City.”
“Is that so?” Brand’s face came to mind, but she tucked the image away. He was working tonight; he’d said so. He wouldn’t end up at a party without her. Or would he? Furious with herself for her doubts, she took a long, calming swallow of soda.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Dani. What’ve you got to lose? A few hours with the books? What’s gotten into you? We could have fun. You do remember what that is, don’t you?”
“Of course, but—”
“It’s probably the last party at the lake since it’s already October and the nights are cooling off a little.”
“All right,” Dani said, dreading the party the minute the words passed her lips. But why not? Alison was right. She couldn’t sit around and wait for Brandon to call, nor could she spend another minute studying the United States Government or calculus. Talk about boring. So she’d go to the party. What could it possibly hurt?
* * *
The Mason place had seen better times. The driveway was little more than two deep ruts through dry grass and spindly weeds. The old homestead had collapsed on itself leaving a mere skeleton of sun-bleached wood and a tumbling rock chimney. A worn rocking chair had fallen off what was left of the porch, the seat eaten away by time, one of the legs twisted away. There was an ancient pump that no longer brought up water and brush had grown through the thin stands of pine. Cars and pickups were parked at odd angles along the lane, but nowhere did Dani see Brand’s motorcycle.
Relief washed over her. Fool, she silently chided herself for doubting him. But she’d never been in love before, never cared deeply. She’d had her share of boys interested in her and she’d never let herself fall in love with any of them. She was just too damned practical. Until now. Brand had changed all her firmly held views on life and love.
“What’s eating you?” Alison asked as she parked her mother’s car beneath the scraggly branches of a pine tree planted close to a creaking aluminum gate. Someone had sprung the rusted lock and left the chain to coil on the ground like a sleeping snake.
“Nothing,” Dani said. “Just worried about getting the job, I guess.”
“What’s to worry? If you don’t get the one at the Shady Grove, you’ll find another.” Alison flashed Dani one of her upbeat smiles. “Tonight, we’re not gonna worry about jobs and school, okay? We’re gonna party.”
Dani was far from the partying mood. In fact, the few parties she’d been invited to hadn’t been all that great. The two girls followed the sound of music and laughter drifting in the crisp Indian-summer air. Though the days were still hot and dry, the nights had become cool with the promise of autumn. Dry leaves crackled beneath Dani’s thongs, and weeds, once supple, now gone to seed, brushed against her calves. The sun was just setting and the water was on fire, reflecting a brilliant sky of orange and pink. A rocky beach was littered with blankets, and a few of the braver souls had found an old rope tied to the branch of a crooked pine tree. They swung out over the water, let loose a scream and dropped into the frigid depths.
“Alison—hey, where’s your suit?” Billy Crawford yelled and shook his head as he climbed out of the lake. He sprayed pellets of water on a couple of girls, who shrieked and nearly dropped their cups of beer.
“Hey, watch it!” one cried.
Her friend danced out of the way. “Billlly! For crying out loud, stop!”
Ignoring the girls’ protests, he ran up to Alison and Dani. He was six foot three and skinny, with a few hairs on his chest and hands big enough to palm a basketball. He twirled Alison off her feet as easily as if she weighed less than a feather. “I wondered if you’d show up.”
“Said I would,” she teased, flirting outrageously. She and Billy had gone together since eighth grade, and though they fought as often as not, continually breaking up and getting back together, Dani assumed that someday, soon after high school, they would marry. Billy was insanely jealous of any boy who even glanced Alison’s way and she was nearly as bad.
“Hi, Dani.” Billy was always friendly, except when he drank too much or when another boy gave Alison too much attention. “Wanna beer?”
“Sure,” Alison said with a wicked grin.
Dani shook her head. “Later.”
Billy loped off to the keg and waited his turn in line with some kids Dani didn’t recognize. She looked around and wondered why she’d agreed to come.
“He’s so damned sexy,” Alison said, eyeing Billy’s buttocks and the way his swim trunks hung beneath his tan line.
Sexy wasn’t the word Dani would use to describe Billy, but she didn’t say it. He was big and gawky with a crooked grin and a hearty laugh. But sexy? No way. Ah, well, to each his own.
“I can’t say no to him.” Alison bit her lower lip and for once her smile disappeared. “You know what I mean?”
Dani knew exactly what she meant, but she didn’t admit to it; if she did, Alison would start asking questions. Billy returned, balancing three plastic cups of beer. His smile was wide. “I thought you needed one,” he explained, handing Dani her drink. Foam, smelling of malt and yeast, slopped over the side. “If you don’t drink it, I will.” His grin was guileless. He’d never been much of a student, but then Dani had that distinction herself. On the basketball court, however, Billy Crawford was pure magic, just as she was on horseback. “Cheers,” he said, touching his cup to hers and slinging his free hand around Alison’s tiny waist.
“Cheers.”
Dani took a sip and watched as Billy guzzled his to the bottom. Alison took a gulp and licked the froth from her mouth. “Hey, that’s my job,” Billy said, his eyes already slightly glazed. He bent down and kissed Alison hard on the lips, one big hand still holding his empty cup, the other sliding down to grab one side of Alison’s rump. Alison’s spine curved easily as she arched her body and pressed against him.
Dani, embarrassed, turned away. She knew what Alison was feeling but believed that lovemaking was a private act between the two people involved. Carrying her unwanted cup, she walked to the edge of the lake, sat down, kicked off her thongs and wiggled her toes in the clear water. Ice-cold, it lapped at the bottom of her feet. An eagle swooped low over the lake as fish rose to the surface. Dani sighed. Listening to the drone of insects coming alive with the night, she propped her drink on a rock, wrapped her arms around her knees and wondered how she could get home. She could walk, she supposed, but it was over five miles to town and she was wearing thongs. Great.
She really wasn’t much of a party girl, she realized as she scanned the knots of kids talking, laughing, drinking and smoking. Someone turned up the music. A couple of girls began dancing in the empty bed of a pickup parked near the ramshackle old house. Boys hooted.
She didn’t belong here. That seemed to be the biggest problem in her life—the not belonging. Though she had a mother who loved her and an older sister who would do anything for her, Dani felt out of step with her small family, just as she felt out of place here. She picked up a rock and sent it skimming over the water; it skipped on the glassy surface, sending out ever-expanding ripples.
Then she heard it, the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine. Scrambling to her feet, she saw the beam of a single headlight flashing behind the thin stands of pines. Brandon! She crossed her fingers and held her breath, realizing for the first time that she’d come here with the express hope of seeing him again.
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him stop the bike and take in the party. His stare was hard and sure and landed with heart-stopping intensity directly on her. Climbing off his bike, he ignored greetings from his friends.
“Hey, Scarlotti, where ya been?”
“How about a beer?”
“Hell, I’d given you up for dead.”
Brand didn’t even glance in the direction of the shouts, swore under his breath and strode over the mashed-down grass to Dani. “What do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper.
“I just—I mean Alison invited me to—” She saw the fury in his eyes and stopped. “Well, what did you expect me to do, Brand, just sit around and wait for you?”
“No, but I didn’t expect this.”
“It’s not like we ever go out—”
He stopped dead in his tracks, whirled and brought his face to within inches of hers. Glaring at her, he growled, “And whose idea was that, hmm?” His lips barely moved. “Who didn’t want anyone to know we were seeing each other?”
“But—”
“Come on,” he said, dragging her with him.
“You’ve been to dozens of parties.”
Again he swore and his lips thinned. “Yeah, and I’ve been hauled into j.d. court more times than I want to remember. All the trouble I ever got into started out as innocent fun.” His grip tightened around her arm. “Let’s go.”
“You can’t tell me what to do!”
“Like hell, Dani. This is for your own good.” Then as if hearing himself, he stopped, placed his hands firmly on his hips and drew in a long, calming breath. When he faced her again, some of his hostility had fled. “You want to stay here or come with me?” he asked, his fingers slowly straightening as he released her. They were standing in what had once been a rose garden. Most of the bushes had died long ago and only a couple of hardy, untrimmed plants had survived to trail thorny vines that clutched at her legs and shorts.
“I want to go with you . . . you know I do. But I don’t like to be manhandled or told what to do or treated like a child.”
A tic developed near his eye. “I didn’t mean—oh, damn it all anyway.” He gazed at her then and offered her a sad, knowing smile. “I think we should leave before the cops come and crash this party.”
“And go where?”
Sighing, he glanced at the darkening sky. “I wish I knew,” he said under his breath, before rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. “Look . . . I need to talk to you. Alone.” For the first time, she noticed the shadows in his eyes, as if he was hiding something from her, carrying some unspeakable burden.
“Then let’s not waste any more time,” she said, taking his hand and walking quickly toward his motorcycle. His fingers, usually so warm, felt cold despite the heat of the evening. His jaw was clamped so hard, the bone showed through on his chin. Lines of tension framed his mouth. “What’s wrong?” she asked, dread beginning to drip into her bloodstream.
“Everything.” In the distance, she heard the distinctive wail of sirens. Brandon spewed out an oath and pulled her hard toward his motorcycle. “Hell,” he grated. “I knew it! Come on!” She didn’t need any further urging and slid onto the bike behind him.
The sirens screamed closer. Several other kids heard them.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Clear out, everybody! Cops!”
“Leave the damned keg!”
Footsteps pounded. Engines fired and roared. Tires screeched over the oaths and panicked warnings of the partygoers.
Brandon wound up the Harley and headed, not back down the lane toward the main highway and the approaching police cars, but through the grass past the old house to a strip of beach rimming the lake. “Where are we going?” she yelled, tears blurring her vision as the bike screamed through the night.
“Anywhere!”
The cycle skimmed the lake as the sirens drowned out every other sound. Dani wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her cheek against his broad back, held on tight and wondered why he’d come for her, how he’d known where she was. Not that it mattered.
Red, blue and white lights strobed the night as Brand twisted hard on the handlebars. The bike turned sharply to the right, headed deep into the forest. The back wheel nearly spun out, dirt spraying, but then they were riding on a dusty trail, overgrown with weeds and barely wide enough for the Harley. Branches slapped at their faces. Dani closed her eyes and clung to him as the path wound ever upward toward Elkhorn Ridge.
Suddenly he slowed. Nearly at the highway, Brandon stopped, turned off the bike’s headlight and waited. In the distance, a voice crackled over a bullhorn as the police rounded up the kids unlucky enough to have been caught. Tickets for minor in possession would be slapped on the partygoers and they’d all be hauled into jail.
It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but still, Dani was thankful that she’d avoided the humiliation and embarrassment of calling her mother from the county jail.
Eventually, the music was turned off, the voice on the bullhorn faded away, and the noise of engines being started carried up to the ridge. Soon, even the sounds of cars leaving the old Mason place gave way to the gentle stillness of the night.
They didn’t move, but stayed astride the bike, hearts pounding. Dani could barely breathe. A bat flew overhead and an owl hooted softly before Brandon, satisfied that they wouldn’t be overheard, climbed off the bike. He walked to the edge of the ridge and looked at the quiet waters of Elkhorn Lake, shimmering with the reflection of thousands of stars.
“I thought you were smarter than that,” he finally said as he kicked a pebble over the cliff edge and listened to it tumble ever downward, bouncing along the ledges of rock and dirt.
“Than what?”
“Than me.” He closed his eyes a second. “Whatever you do, Dani, don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
“You survived.”
“I was lucky.”
She held back the fear that something horribly wrong was happening, that he was working up to something more devastating than being caught at a party. Though she didn’t want to know, she’d always been a person who faced trouble straight on. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice shaking a little. “Brand?”
He came to her then and kissed her long and hard, his body flexing against hers in desperation, his hands tangling in her hair. “Dani, Dani, Dani,” he whispered as his lips molded over hers. “Oh, Dani, I love you.”
She tingled at the words and all her reservations fled. She kissed him back with a renewed hunger, wanting to give, hoping to take, feeling his fingers against her skin, anxious and strong, as they tugged off her clothes. Kissing, touching, caressing, while the night breeze skimmed her bare skin. He kicked off his boots as she tore at his clothes. He pressed hot lips against her neck, her breasts, her legs, and she writhed in anticipation, his fever infecting her as they finally joined, his hard body thrusting into her moistness, penetrating her body and soul, lifting her above the pine trees to the starry night where the constellations seemed to blur and dance behind her eyes. Clinging to him, moving to his wild, desperate rhythm, she felt the world spin off its axis and her body convulse against his. He fell against her, breathing hard, whispering words of love, holding her as if he’d never let go.
“I love you, Dani. Believe me,” he said, gasping as he rolled over on his back onto a rough bed of pine needles. He cradled her head next to his, his muscles strident, his fingers gently caressing her chin.
“I love you, too, Brand,” she said, happier than she’d been in all her life. She gazed up at the moon and smiled.
He hesitated, then his arms around her tightened. “And that’s what makes this so difficult.”
“Difficult?” she repeated, fear drumming in her heart. “What?”
He hesitated, then blurted, “I have to leave.”
“Leave? Now? Where?” she asked, laughing, though her nerves were suddenly stretched thin. She heard the sound of doom in his voice. “You mean go home, right?”
“I mean leave Oregon. For good.”
“And go where?” she asked, panic taking over. Surely he was just kidding her, but the pain on his face convinced her that something was very, very wrong.
“California. L.A. I’ve been offered a job.”
“But you have a job here—”
“A dead-end job, Dani. I need to start somewhere new.”
“No!” She tried to pull away from him, but he held tight, anticipating her reaction. “No! No! No!”
“Shhh. Just listen.”
“That’s why you had to come and find me, that’s why you had to drag me up here and . . . and make love to me one last time?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Bull!” She struggled, writhing like a wounded snake, but the hands around her were steel manacles, holding her fast. “You knew this was going to happen! You knew and you let me fall in love with you!” Anger shot through her and she wanted to scream, to kick, to curse the fates, to pound his chest in frustration.
“I didn’t count on falling in love with you.”
“Love? You love me?” She flung her hair out of her eyes. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t leave me!”
He swallowed hard and his eyes shimmered in the darkness. She was lying atop him, her hair falling around her face in tangled waves, her naked chest heaving with each painful breath. “I don’t have a choice, Dani. What do you expect me to do? Stay here, a bastard known by everyone in the county, work for Red the rest of my life, barely scratch out a decent wage because no one else will give me a break?”
“You don’t have to—”
“Can’t you understand that I have to start over and make something of myself, something better than being Venitia Scarlotti’s mistake?”
She gasped. “You’re not a mistake. You’re wonderful. You’re everything—”
“Stop it, Dani. Don’t,” he begged, and his voice, already hoarse, cracked. “Don’t you know how hard this is for me?”
“Oh, please, no,” she whispered, trembling, cold from the inside out. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard a voice telling her that if she loved him, really loved him, she would let him go. Love held no one prisoner and she had too much pride to beg—even for Brandon. A roar filled her head, a desperate roar not unlike surf crashing against cliffs. “Then go,” she heard herself saying as she tried to roll off him. “Just leave.”
“Not this way.”
“Brand, please, if you have to go, just do it.” Tears were running down her face and she fought against breaking down altogether. “Please. Don’t drag it out.”
“You’re right,” he said, but kissed her one last time. That was her undoing. Her throat closed in on itself. They made love all night long in the forest above the shores of Elkhorn Lake. Tenderly. Desperately. Knowing that it was over.
She watched him leave in the gray light of dawn and suffered her mother’s pained expression and lecture for making her worry. And she never told him she was pregnant, nor did she ever breathe his name to another living soul. She would never tie him down, never force him into a life he didn’t want.
She took extra credits, graduated early, left Rimrock for a while, and with the ever-present help of Jonah McKee, gave up Brand’s baby to a nameless couple who, she was assured, would give him everything he needed or wanted in life—especially a loving mother and father.
Gifts she could never provide.
And she never expected to see Brandon Scarlotti again.