Texas Heat (36 page)

“Good girl. Hey, maybe we could stay an extra day and make it a sort of fourth honeymoon.”

Amelia giggled. Maybe they could get back on track.

On the way down the hall, both Amelia and Cary stopped at the nursery. Susan was cradling the baby, a dreamy look on her face. “She falls asleep and doesn't want to burp. I have to take her into the doctor's today. She's gorgeous. Don't you think so?”

Amelia blinked. All newborn babies looked like creatures from the unknown to her. Baby Jessica
was
different, though. She looked pink and perfect, her tiny lips puckered as though expecting more. The soft, downy fuzz on her head was standing on end. Cary laughed as he tried to smooth it down. “Porcupine hair.”

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Amelia asked.

“Good heavens, no. Jessie comes first. I had to change her from the skin out. When she's ready to eat, she's ready. She's a slow eater and she takes forever to burp. You go on. I'll be down in a little while.”

Cary, who was by now quite late, gulped a quick cup of coffee and left. Amelia picked at some scrambled eggs and watched as Maggie devoured a stack of pancakes. “How can you eat like that and not gain an ounce?” she grumbled.

“I rarely eat lunch. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I gain; don't kid yourself. How's the house coming?”

“It's almost finished. Cary is going to New York tomorrow on business. I'm going to make the trip with him and go on up to Vermont to see your mother for a few days. I'll spend a few days with him on the return trip and do some shopping. I thought we'd take Sawyer out to dinner if she's up to it.”

“That's a great idea. Mam is going to love having you. I think you're her best friend.”

Amelia waited for some mention of Sawyer. When Maggie returned to her pancakes, Amelia set her coffee cup down. “Look, I know I'm out of line, but I have to know how you can be so ... so completely—I don't even know what word to use—in regard to Sawyer.”

Maggie pushed her plate away, the pancakes half-eaten. “Callous is probably the word you're looking for. You are out of line, but it's okay. We're family. I suppose I do appear that way to you. From long habit I've had to cover up my feelings. But I do have them—feelings, I mean. Right now I'm trying to figure out what I can do, if anything.

“There's something else I suppose I should tell you. I wrote to Rand and told him I made a mistake in sending him home. I love him, Amelia, and he loves me. Mam made me see that I have to reach out for whatever happiness I can get. And by God, I'm going to. Now, if you want to condemn me for that, it's okay. I understand.”

Amelia mashed the egg on her plate. When she finally looked up at Maggie, her eyes were full of tears. “Your mother was right. You should be happy. I'm sorry if I indicated anything else. If I had my way, everyone in the world would be in love and happy as Billie and Thad. And Cary and me,” she added as an afterthought.

“Sawyer?” Maggie hadn't meant her voice to be so hoarse, so whispery.

“I think I know Rand better than anyone on this earth. I know he wouldn't play you against Sawyer. His mind was made up long ago—last spring, in fact. I suppose we all thought ... we all wanted the two of them to get married. But that wasn't what Rand wanted. Who are we to sit and judge? Every person walking this earth deserves to be happy.”

“But you still don't approve of me, do you?”

Amelia buttered a piece of toast she had no intention of eating. “You remind me so much of myself in my younger days. Those days are behind me and they should be behind you, too. What I didn't approve of was your indifference to your mother. And your indifference to Sawyer now. My own mother died before I could make it up to her, all those awful, rebellious years. You at least had a chance to mend fences with Billie. What you do or don't do for Sawyer is something you're going to have to live with. No one can help you but yourself.”

Maggie smiled. “That's honest, all right. I'm glad we had this little talk. I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me.”

“In a way I was. I don't like to think about those long-ago days. I hate confrontations because I had so many of them in my life. There comes a time when you have to look everything square in the face and deal with it. Soul-searching is not for the weak.”

“Tell me about it.” Maggie smiled. “What do you think of little Jessie? Isn't she gorgeous? I love rocking her and giving her a water bottle.”

“Another one. Between you and Susan, you're going to have one spoiled child on your hands.”

“Susan is taking it all very well. The doctors have mapped out a routine for her, and she's to take Jessie in for treatment. I managed to get together some material for her to read. She's tough, Amelia. I didn't know that about Susan. And she means it when she says no one but her is going to take care of this baby. She wrote to Jerome, you know, right after the baby was born. She sent the letter in care of their old business manager. She said he had a right to know, and of course he does, but I'm a little concerned about what he might try to do.”

“If you think Jerome is going to be interested in a baby with a birth defect, forget it. The divorce will go through and we'll never see Jerome again.” It was brave talk and Amelia knew it for the lie it was. Sooner or later Jerome would show up and cause trouble. She could feel it in her bones.

Maggie sat at the table for a long time after Amelia had left. She herself had a busy schedule, but she couldn't seem to get herself together this morning, couldn't seem to stop thinking. Amelia and Cary, Cranston and Cole, Sawyer... Rand.

Why hadn't Rand called or written? Certainly enough time had gone by. On an impulse she pulled the phone to the table from the sideboard and placed a call to England. The phone rang fifteen times before she replaced the receiver.

 

Cary was so cheerful, Amelia could feel her teeth grind together. She wasn't looking forward to the plane ride or the layover at Kennedy Airport before she could get a flight to Vermont.

“Amelia, if you don't hurry, we're going to miss the plane. What's the problem?”

“My hair,” Amelia said shortly. “I should have gotten it cut, but I didn't have the time.”

“You look beautiful. Let's go. Eileen just pulled up in front of the house.”

“Eileen?” Amelia's hairbrush paused in midair.

“Yes, Eileen. She's going to leave her car at the airport. Come on, we really have to hurry. I have your coat, and the bags are downstairs.”

“Why is Eileen taking us to the airport?”

“Because she's going with us. Sherman thought it would be simpler if she came along and I didn't have to scrounge around for a temporary girl to take notes and then wait for the papers to be sent back here. Eileen's on top of things. I thought I told you.”

Amelia seethed as she followed her husband down the stairs. She was going on to Vermont, and Cary was staying in New York. With Eileen! Her head started to pound, and she could feel the perspiration breaking out on her forehead.

The ride was filled with Eileen's gay chatter. She'd never been to New York, and there was so much she wanted to see, so many things she wanted to buy.

“I thought you were going along to work,” Amelia said coolly.

“I am, but I get a lunch hour, and some of the stores are open in the evening. Cary promised me Saturday off.”

Cary could feel the chill emanating from his wife. Jesus, surely she didn't. . . . That was exactly what she thought! Was that how much she trusted him? First he felt annoyed, and then angry. He'd asked her to come with him in the beginning, but the house was more important. Then it was going on to see Billie. Women! Well, let her stew for a while; it would do her good. Maybe then she'd realize how ridiculous she was being.

“Why don't you drop me off at the door,” Amelia said. “I have to pick up my ticket. If you give me yours, Cary, I can check both of you in.”

“Eileen, do you have the tickets?”

“In my bag. That's nice of you, Mrs. Assante. I might not be lucky in finding a parking spot and end up taking the shuttle. We're cutting it close. I was on time,” she added apologetically.

“No one's blaming you. Amelia is at fault here,” Cary said in a gruff voice.

“You didn't tell me we were being picked up. In fact, you didn't tell me a lot of things. I thought we were taking the limo to the airport. When Martin drives us, we don't have to worry about a parking space. You stay with Miss Farrell. In case you don't make this flight, you can be together for the next one. If that happens, I'll leave your tickets with the reservation clerk. This is fine. Let me out here.”

Cary hopped out of the car and ran around to open the door for Amelia. The look she gave him froze him in his tracks. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Eileen rummaging in her purse for something. She was smiling.

Amelia waited patiently in line till it was her turn. She handed over Cary and Eileen's tickets and waited for her own. “There seems to be a mistake here,” the young girl said hesitantly. “Miss Farrell and Mr. Assante are sitting together. Preseating,” she said by way of explanation. “You requested a seat in smoking. Do you want me to change the seats?”

“Absolutely not. Is the flight on time?”

“The plane's at the gate. In fact, they're boarding now. You don't have much time.”

Amelia felt like kicking something. She looked around for some sign of her husband. “I don't think they're going to make it,” she said tightly.

“You'll miss it if you don't hurry. The next flight is booked solid. I recommend you board and leave the other two tickets with the desk.”

Amelia was the last passenger to board the plane. Behind her dark glasses, she cried all the way to New York. She was still crying when she boarded her flight to Vermont.

 

Cary and Eileen gathered up all their papers, stuffing them haphazardly into briefcases. Cary was in a hurry to get back to the hotel so he could make arrangements for an intimate in-room dinner with Amelia. They'd spend the evening together and tomorrow take in the Big Apple. He was as excited as a college kid on his second date.

Christ, he'd missed Amelia! He'd felt like a louse when they'd missed the plane. His phone calls to her over the next few days had been made on the run or when he was too exhausted to think straight. He didn't know why he'd bothered except that he couldn't let her think the worst. But she did; he could tell by her voice.

“I think I have everything, Cary,” Eileen said hoarsely.

“We're going to get you back to the hotel and call a doctor. I can tell just by looking at you that you're running a fever. You should have stayed in bed today. All you're doing is sneezing and coughing. I wouldn't be surprised if you had pneumonia.”

“Bronchitis maybe, but not pneumonia. I'll take some aspirin and I'll be fine. I hate it when you fuss over me,” she said. Fuss, fuss, hold me! she wanted to shout. Tell me you'll take care of me.

“Someone has to take care of you. What the hell kind of employer would I be if I didn't? We're in a strange city. Make sure you take a good hot bath before you settle in. Amelia says that's a cure-all for colds.”

“Amelia should know. Amelia is really knowledgeable, isn't she?”

“She certainly is. She knows something about everything. She can hold her own in any situation.”

In the warm taxi Eileen managed to sit closer to Cary than necessary, pleading the chills. “Do you know what I want more than anything right now?”

“What? Don't tell me you want a company credit card.” Cary laughed.

“That, too. No, I want a good hot toddy. I haven't had one in years. You know, the kind your mother makes for you when you're really sick. Not that I'm really sick.”

“You're wrong. I can feel the heat from your body. You do have a fever and I'm calling the doctor. I have to make sure you're all right before I can enjoy my evening with Amelia. When I tell her how sick you are, she'll say I did the right thing.”

“I wouldn't bet on it,” Eileen muttered under her breath.

Eileen got out of the taxi on wobbly legs. She realized for the first time that she really was sick. Maybe a doctor wouldn't be such a bad idea. At least he'd give her an antibiotic, and she'd have the weekend to recuperate before the return flight on Monday. She wished there was someone who cared enough for her to sit and hold her hand. It was a hell of a way to spend time in New York.

Cary grabbed both briefcases and helped Eileen through the lobby to the elevator. “I'm taking you right to your suite. I'm not leaving till the doctor is on his way and you're in bed.”

“Thanks, Cary. Your wife is one lucky lady.”

“I keep telling her that, but she doesn't listen.” Covertly his eyes dropped to his watch. Amelia's plane would get in in another thirty minutes. He would have to hurry to make all the arrangements in time. “Get in bed and I'll start making calls.”

The desk clerk assured him a doctor would check on Miss Farrell in half an hour. He called room service for a hot toddy for Eileen and dinner for himself and Amelia for nine o'clock. Then he made two calls to Texas and one to the airport to check that Amelia's plane was on time. It was. At this time of day it would take a taxi about forty-five minutes to make it into the city; he might as well hang around and wait for the doctor. His last call was to the hotel florist. Roses and daisies would be delivered in abundance to room 1012. Amelia's favorite flowers.