Denim And Lace. Diana Palmer
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Название: Denim And Lace
Автор: Diana Palmer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
isbn: 9781474058278
isbn:
Cade had said something unpleasant under his breath and abruptly got to his feet. He was holding down a hand to help her up, but before she could refuse it or even speak, Gussie was suddenly in the barn with them, her dark eyes flashing as she took in the situation with a glance. She’d hustled a shaken Bess into the house, ignored Cade’s glowering stare, and the next day the riding lessons became a memory.
Bess had often wondered why Cade had felt the need to be so cruel. It would have been enough to simply reject her without crushing her budding femininity at the same time. If he’d hoped to discourage her, he’d succeeded. But her feelings hadn’t vanished. They’d simply gone underground. There was a lingering nervousness of him in a physical way, but she knew in her heart that if he came close and took her in his arms, she’d cave in and give him anything he wanted, fear notwithstanding. He hadn’t really touched her that day anyway. It had all been planned. But what hurt the most was that he hadn’t wanted her and that he’d taunted her with it.
She rolled over with a long sigh. It was just her luck to be doomed to want the only man on earth she couldn’t have. He’d thought she was teasing because he was poor and she was rich, but that wasn’t the case at all. He couldn’t see that his lack of material things had nothing to do with her emotional attraction to him.
He was a strong man, but that wasn’t why she loved him. It was for so many other reasons. She loved him because he cared about people and animals and the environment. He was generous with his time and what little money he had. He’d take in a stray animal or a stray person at the drop of a hat. He never turned away a cowboy down on his luck or a stranded traveler, even if it meant tightening the grocery budget a little more. He was hard and difficult, but there was a deep sensitivity in him. He saw beneath the masks people wore to the real person inside. Bess had seen his temper, and she knew that he could be too rigid and unreasonable when he wanted his own way. But he had saving graces. So many of them.
It was odd that he’d never married, because she knew of at least two women he’d been involved with over the years. The most recent, just before her twentieth birthday, had been a wealthy divorcée. That one had lasted the longest, and many local people thought that Cade was hooked for sure. But the divorcée had left Coleman Springs rather abruptly, and was never mentioned again by any of the Hollisters. Since then, if there were women in Cade’s life, he’d carefully kept them away from his family, friends and acquaintances. Cade was nothing if not discreet.
Bess herself had no real beaux these days, although she’d dated a few men for appearance’s sake, to keep Gussie from knowing how crazy she was about Cade. No other man could really measure up to him, and it was cruel to lead a man on when she had nothing to offer him. She was as innocent as a child in so many ways, but Cade obviously thought she was as sophisticated as her outward image. That was a farce. If only he knew how long she’d gone hungry wanting him.
She closed her eyes and forced her taut muscles to relax. She had to stop worrying over the past and get some sleep. The funeral was tomorrow. They’d lay her poor father to rest, and then perhaps she and her mother could tie up all the loose ends and get on with the ordeal of moving and trying to live without the wealth they’d been accustomed to. That would be a challenge in itself. She wondered how she and Gussie would manage.
AS BESS EXPECTED, there was a crowd at the simple graveside service, but it wasn’t made up just of friends and neighbors. It was a press holiday, with reporters and cameras from all over the state. On the fringe of the mob Bess caught a glimpse of Elise Hollister, stately and tall, standing with her three sons. She caught the older woman’s eye, and Elise smiled at her gently. Then, involuntarily, Bess’s eyes glanced at Cade. He looked very somber in a dark suit, towering over his mother and his brothers, Gary and Robert. Red-haired Rob was outgoing, nothing like Gary and Cade. Gary was bookish, and kept the accounts. He was a little shorter than Cade, and his coloring was lighter and he was less authoritative. Bess turned her attention back to what the minister was saying, aware of Gussie’s subdued sobbing beside her.
The cemetery was on a small rise overlooking the distant river. It was a Presbyterian church graveyard with tombstones that dated back to the Civil War. All the Samsons were buried here. It was a quiet place, with live oaks and mesquite all around. A good place for a man’s final resting place. Frank Samson would have approved.
“My poor Frank,” Gussie whimpered into her handkerchief as they left the cemetery. “My poor, poor Frank. However will we manage without him?”
“Frugally,” Bess said calmly. Her tears had all been shed the night before. She was looking ahead now to the legal matters that would be pending. She’d never had to cope with business, but she certainly couldn’t depend on Gussie.
She helped her mother into the limousine and sat back wearily on the seat as the driver climbed in and started the engine. Outside, cameras were pointed in their direction, but Bess ignored them. She looked very sophisticated in her black suit and severe bun atop a face without a trace of makeup. She’d decided early that morning that the cameras wouldn’t find anything attractive in her face to draw them to it. They didn’t either. She looked as plain as a pikestaff. Gussie, on the other hand, was in a lacy black dress with diamonds glittering from her ears and throat and wrists. Not diamonds, Bess reminded herself, because those had already been sold. They were paste, but the cameras wouldn’t know. And Gussie had put on quite a show for them. She didn’t look at her mother now. She was too disappointed in the spectacle she’d made of their grief. That, too, was like Gussie, to play every scene theatrically. She’d left the stage to marry Frank Samson, and that was apparent, too.
“I don’t want to sell the house,” Gussie said firmly, glancing at her daughter. “There must be some other way.”
“We could sell it with an option to rent,” Bess said. “That way we could keep up appearances, if that’s all that matters to you.”
Gussie flushed. “Bess, what’s gotten into you?”
“I’m tired, Mother,” Bess replied shortly. “Tired, and worn-out with grief and shame. I loved my father. I never dreamed he’d take his own life.”
“Well, I’m sure I didn’t either,” Gussie wailed.
“Didn’t you?” Bess turned in the seat to stare pointedly at the smaller woman. It was her first show of spirit in recent memory, and it almost shocked her that she felt so brave. Probably it was the ordeal of the funeral that had torn down her normal restraint, she thought. “Didn’t you hound him to death for more jewels, more furs, more expensive vacations that he couldn’t afford in any legal way?”
The older woman turned her flushed face to the window and dabbed at her eyes. “What a way to talk to your poor mother, and at a time like this.”
“I’m sorry,” Bess murmured, backing down. She always backed down. It just wasn’t in her to fight with Gussie.
“Really, Bess, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately,” Gussie said haughtily.
“I’m worried about how we’re going to pay those people back what they’ve lost,” Bess said.
Gussie’s eyebrows lifted. “Why should we have to pay them back?” she exclaimed. “We didn’t make them invest. It was all your father’s fault, and he’s dead.”
“That won’t make any difference, don’t you see?” Bess said gently. “His СКАЧАТЬ