Whirlwind. Nancy Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ plunged into the woods, growling to himself. To have his privacy plundered this way was unacceptable. Enraging, even! Who did she think she was? And what was her plan, for God’s sake? The tigress came barging in and started ordering him around like he was her hired hand!

      “What does she think she’s going to do?”

      A girl like Liza got her kicks out of disrupting people, making them miserable. It was her entertainment, a sport.

      “Damn her!”

      Suddenly Cliff stopped short under the oaks, struck by a thought. For the first time in recent memory, he was fuming over the actions of another person.

      It was weird.

      Of course, he’d been alone for years. He’d wanted it that way. Staying out of the mainstream had been a distinct choice for him—a way of avoiding the kind of emotional turmoil he hated. Life at Timberlake had been peaceful, and he’d needed peace. The silence of the forest and the tranquil lake had worked together to mend his spirit. He hadn’t needed other people. He’d avoided them for lots of reasons.

      Now that bewitching Baron girl came bursting into the lodge as if she owned the place! It was a cataclysmic event, Cliff realized. She was the first to break in on his private world. The only person who’d dared.

      Grimly, he set off into the forest again. “I can’t live under the same roof with her. It’s impossible.”

      She was a troublemaker. A naughty youngster bent on wreaking havoc wherever she went. She was the last thing Cliff needed. Already she’d gotten him all churned up inside. Heaven only knew what might happen if she stayed.

      He walked for a couple of miles, but it did no good. Still muttering under his breath, he found himself heading for the hilltop that overlooked Tyler—a sparsely treed vantage point that had once been part of the Gerhardt farm. The Gerhardts, he knew, had been forced out of the dairy business by the crunch in farm prices, and their land had not yet been taken over by the conglomerates that were moving into the area. The top field was overgrown now, the lush grass congested by tangles of wildflowers.

      Cliff stopped at the break in the trees, resting his hands on the weathered fence post, his gaze drawn by the panorama that spread out before him. It was a scene that had often calmed him. The green pastures of neighboring farms, dotted with cattle, were bordered by darker fields of alfalfa, corn and the pale green-yellow of new oats. It would have made a pretty postcard—picturesque and serene.

      But he didn’t feel serene as he glared at the wide landscape that spread out majestically before him. The warm breeze that rustled in the leaves of the trees at his back did not ease Cliff’s mind. Nor did the warmth of the sun relieve the tension that tightened the muscles of his neck and shoulders.

      “Cliff!”

      A gentle voice called to him from the field below, and a fragile woman stood up from where she’d been plucking wildflowers. She lifted a slender hand to the brim of her straw hat and called, “Is that you?”

      It was Alyssa Baron, perhaps his only friend in Tyler. Cliff waved weakly, not sure he wanted to see even Alyssa this morning. But he vaulted over the fence a moment later and went down the hillside to meet her.

      She had brought her basket and was filling it with cornflowers and daisies. To ward off the morning chill, she had pulled a pair of casual but clearly expensive slacks and scalloped sweater over her slim frame. Her pruning shears swung from the worn ribbon on her belt, and bits of earth clung to her manicured hands.

      Alyssa’s fair skin was flushed with sunlight and she wore no makeup to conceal her age. With her light hair pulled back into a clip under the hat, she looked ten years younger than she should have. Her blue eyes were large and expressive.

      For a queer second, Cliff noted how much she looked like Liza. But Alyssa’s was a fragile kind of femininity counterbalanced by the strength in her expression. Liza was more vibrant, in personality as well as appearance. Her features were like her mother’s, but exaggerated—not quite so delicate. And her voice wasn’t gentle.

      Alyssa’s was as soothing as the soft sound of the morning breeze. On a self-deprecating laugh, she said, “I can’t get used to the way you just appear out of the forest. It’s like magic. How can you move so quietly? A man your size?”

      He didn’t answer, and she thrust her basket into his hands, chatting as if he’d made a clever riposte.

      “Don’t tell anyone,” she went on blithely, “but I’m stealing flowers. Do you think someone will arrest me? I’m in charge of arranging centerpieces for the senior citizen dinner tonight, and of course I left it to the last minute! Aren’t I awful?”

      Alyssa Baron wasn’t awful. She was beautiful, and she possessed one of the purest hearts in the world.

      She was also very perceptive.

      Looking up at him, she said suddenly, “What’s wrong, Cliff?”

      “Nothing.”

      Alyssa smiled with understanding. “Not sleeping again?”

      He shook his head. “It’s not that. I just...it’s been a long day.”

      She laughed. “My dear, it’s not even noon yet! What’s going on?”

      He couldn’t tell her about Liza’s arrival in Tyler, Cliff realized. That was Liza’s business, not his. He knew how Alyssa was going to react to that news, and he didn’t want to be around to watch. Alyssa might cry. She wore her emotions quite close to the surface when it came to her children—Liza especially. How many times had she expressed her feelings about her wayward youngest daughter? Cliff didn’t think that he could stand breaking the news of Liza’s return and watching Alyssa’s eyes fill with pain as she soaked in the information.

      So he said, “I’m not used to being around people.”

      “Ah,” Alyssa said wisely. “Did you go into town this morning?”

      “Just for a minute.”

      “That always upsets you,” she said, shaking her head. “I wish it didn’t. People don’t hate you. They don’t know you, that’s all. You make them nervous, I suppose. You don’t know how to chat.”

      Cliff laughed shortly. “No, chatting isn’t my strong suit.”

      “It’s all right,” Alyssa replied, bending into the flowers again and snipping stems with her shears. “I know you’re perfectly nice. Someday everyone else will figure that out, too.”

      As Alyssa cut more flowers for her centerpieces, Cliff held her basket and considered her words. He didn’t disagree. Not aloud, anyway. But Cliff knew in his heart that he wasn’t perfectly nice. He could be perfectly awful—that was the problem. And if he wasn’t careful, somebody could get hurt by his awfulness.

      He hated the thought of hurting anyone. Perhaps that was why he’d come to live at Timberlake in the first place. To be alone. To stay away from people in case he went truly crazy.

      That was his biggest fear, he supposed. Going really nuts. It could happen, he knew. He’d read about other guys who’d come home from Southeast Asia and lived normal lives for a few СКАЧАТЬ