Trouble in Tourmaline (Silhouette Special Edition) (9 page)

David glanced at Amy, but she didn’t indicate her opinion in any way. This was his decision to make.

“Do you really want to, punkin?” he asked.

“That’s
citrouille,
Daddy,” she said, giggling as she looked at Amy.

Not wanting to disappoint the girl, Amy forced a smile. “That’s exactly what it is, Sarah.”

“What’s with you two?” he demanded.

“French,” Sarah said between giggles.

“French,” he echoed. Then he grinned. “For
pumpkin,
you mean. Just you wait till I get even.”

“I want to stay with Sage,” Sarah said excitedly. “She’s got her very own horse that she raised from a baby and I haven’t even seen him yet.”

“It’s okay with my brother and Laura,” Sage said. “Dr. Gert’s going to stay over, too, so she’ll be riding in with Sarah and Shane tomorrow.”

Leaving David and me alone together, Amy thought. A coincidence that seems to be happening a lot lately—or am I getting paranoid? Surely Gert wouldn’t be so obvious.

“Have fun,” David told Sarah.

“I will. Bye, Daddy.”

“Don’t I get a hug?”

Sarah hugged him, then held out her arms to Amy, who knelt and hugged her.

As they watched the two girls run off together, Amy found herself worrying that Sarah might wake in the night and be homesick for her father and familiar surroundings. She shut off the thought. If it happened, Gert was there to reassure the girl. In any case, Sarah wasn’t her responsibility, even if her heart didn’t agree. Which reminded her of Grandfather’s hawks.

“Grandfather said you were the male hawk in his dream,” she told David.

“I know. Gert told me.”

“Well, it turns out I’m the female hawk and both of us are flying off in the wrong direction.”

“Together?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Too bad. No point in worrying about it, since we’re together at the moment.”

Did she want to be alone with David right now? Before she came up with an answer, he grasped her hand, leading her toward Gert’s car. “We’ll drive down to the lake,” he said.

She started to bristle at his assumption that’s what she wanted to do, but let it go since that seemed as good a place as any for the discussion they needed to have.

It was near dusk when he parked by Pyramid Lake. The space between dusk and night was shorter here in Nevada than it had been in California because the Sierras were to the west, so the sun disappeared behind them before dropping into the Pacific. She avoided holding his hand as they walked down to the water in the alpenglow, an orange-pink radiance that lit the western sky above the mountains and briefly held back the dark.

“This lake is so different from Tahoe,” she said.

“Small talk,” he muttered, brushing it away with a sweep of his hand.

She looked at him and found him scowling at her.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” he demanded.

She knew as a psychologist that “nothing,” was not the right answer. As a woman, though, she was tempted. Taking a deep breath, she tried to order her thoughts, but they remained in such chaos that she found herself asking the one thing she hadn’t meant to say but really wanted to know. “Did you and Jessica have an affair?”

He stared at her.

Amy met his gaze as calmly as she could, holding back her apology, even though she knew she had no right to ask that question since it was none of her business. She shouldn’t have said it, but she already had. Let him try to shrug that one off.

His “No” was clipped.

“Oh” was the only thing she could think of to say in reply.

“Have I ever asked you about any of your affairs?” His tone was brusque.

“I only had one that could qualify for the term,” she snapped. “It convinced me never to trust a man again.”

“You’re saying you don’t trust me?”

“Yes. No. I mean, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, anyway, since we’re not lovers.”

“We will be.” He spit the words out between clenched teeth.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I’m not.”

She scowled at him. “Neither am I.”

All of a sudden the ridiculous nature of their exchange struck her and she began to laugh. After a long moment, he joined in. As they laughed together, she was dimly aware a truck had stopped somewhere near them. When she could speak again, ignoring the truck, she said, “I recall words from an old song that say something like, never lovers, always friends. That might be best.”

“You have the words wrong—it’s always lovers, never friends.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Neither is quite right.” Gert’s voice came out of the gathering darkness.

They both turned to look at her. “What are the words, then?” David asked.

“You don’t need them to work things out. I came to tell you that Sarah and I are leaving now with the Bearclaws. Good night.” With that she turned and started back up the rise.

“You shrinks leave more questions unanswered,” he commented.

“Forces you to reflect,” Gert called back. “Good for the spirit.”

“It’s time we were getting back, too,” Amy said to him.

Once they were on their way to Tourmaline, David said, “Any ideas about next Saturday?”

He was consulting her, a definite improvement. “I called my brother earlier this week and we have an open invitation to their place. Since Sarah seemed so interested in Sage’s horse, I think she’ll be enthusiastic about riding a pony.”

“Great. So that’s on for a week from now. But there’s still tonight. Without Sarah.”

“I’m aware of that.”

His next words showed he’d detected the dismissal in her voice. “Too calculated?”

“Not exactly, but…” Her words trailed off as she realized she didn’t really know why she disliked the notion of planning ahead for a night of passion. Did it somehow date back to college and that miserable time with Vince when any lovemaking had to be
scheduled because he was so busy? Her lip twisted in remembered humiliation.
Penciled in
was the right term, so it could be erased if necessary. What a fool she’d been.

“I can easily arrange to throw you over my shoulder, haul you to my cave and have my way with you.”

Despite herself, his teasing words sent a thrill through her. Never mind her dislike of control, somewhere buried inside her that sort of fantasy must exist. Not that she actually wanted it to happen.

“It’s not that simple,” she told him.

“No? Seems pretty straightforward to me.”

“It does have the advantage of surprise,” she admitted, “but it doesn’t allow the woman any say.”

“You just said no to any other arrangement.” As he spoke, he pulled the car onto the shoulder, shut off the engine, released both seat-belts and yanked her willy-nilly into his arms. When his mouth slanted down over hers, she discovered that she’d seriously underestimated just how much she wanted him.

Not that her passion meter was an accurate measure of what was best for her. With a tremendous effort of will, she broke away.

Without a word, David restarted the car, pulled back on the highway and drove, way too fast, toward Tourmaline.

O
n Wednesday evening David opened his apartment door to see Amy standing there. “I come bearing gifts,” she said. “My famous, if we’re lucky, chocolate chip oatmeal cookies—on other occasions known as infamous.”

“Amy!” Sarah cried. “Come and see how big Sheba’s getting.”

“By all means,” David said, ushering her in. He’d missed her, but he damn well didn’t mean to say so. Not after last Saturday night, when they’d parted without even a good-night kiss.

Amy wound up holding the kitten while Sarah played her latest violin lesson. David noticed her wince only once, a confirmation of his opinion that Sarah was improving.

“That was so good you deserve cookies and milk,” Amy said when she finished.

As they sat in the kitchen, Amy and David with coffee, Sarah said, “Daddy says I’m going to get to ride a pony Saturday. All by myself. I never have before.”

“It’s lots easier than riding a camel,” Amy assured her.

“I’m not too worried.” David and Amy exchanged smiles at her assumption of nonchalance.

It felt right to have Amy around, the attention she gave to Sarah made the three of them a family in a way he’d never felt with Iris. Uneasy with the thought, he shoved it away.

“Sometime can Betty go with us?” Sarah asked. “Her father doesn’t get home very much.”

“Not this Saturday, but another time, if it’s okay with her mother,” David said.

The phone rang. David picked it up. “Speaking,” he said.

“They what?” he asked, listened, then added, “Call the sheriff. I’ll be right over.”

“That was the woman who saw Cal’s accident,” he told Amy. “Will you stay with Sarah?”

“Sure, but how about dropping off Sarah with Gert so I can tag along? I could hear that woman—not words, but she sounded hysterical. I might be able to help.”

David hesitated, then nodded. Dodie Thomas would need to calm down before he had any chance of talking sense with her.

Once they’d left Sarah at Gert’s, Amy asked what had happened.

“I talked to Dodie Thomas soon after Cal gave me her name. She was clearly too frightened to tell me much of anything, but I told her to call me if she changed her mind. Right after I was there, she began to get threatening phone calls and finally let me know about them. I insisted she call the sheriff’s department, sort of bullied her into it. They advised her to get caller ID and change her number, which took care of the problem. Last week I went over to her place at her request, and while I was there, someone threw a rock through her front window. I called the sheriff, telling the deputy I was her lawyer, and that I suspected someone was trying to intimidate my client.”

“Could they do anything?”

David shook his head. “Now, this evening, a neighbor saw a van run up onto her side lawn, aiming at her dog, which was tied to a post.”

“Oh, no! I hope they didn’t hit the poor thing.”

“He was injured—the neighbor’s taking him to a vet.”

“How awful. All this just so she wouldn’t testify against them about the accident?”

“Looks that way. I found out the driver who hit Cal has a criminal record.”

Amy felt hurt that David hadn’t told her any of this earlier, but realized she’d probably brought it on herself by too many “shrink” questions.

A sheriff’s deputy was at the Thomas house when they arrived, trying to get a coherent story from Dodie, who, face streaked with tears, was running her
fingers frantically through her hair. He greeted them with relief. Amy persuaded Dodie into the bathroom where she helped her wash her face and brush her hair.

“I’m being punished,” Dodie told her. “Ma always said, ‘Tell the truth and shame the devil,’ but I took the truth back ’cause I let those men scare me. Now my little Susu’s going to die.”

“Susu’s at the vet’s getting the best of care,” Amy said soothingly. She handed Dodie a glass of water, adding, “Crying always makes me thirsty.”

“Yeah, I guess it does at that.”

Some minutes later, a much calmer Dodie was back in the living room able to corroborate the story David had told the deputy. “I’m going to tell the truth this time,” she assured the deputy. “I couldn’t believe it last month when I saw that van veer over deliberately to hit that poor man on the motorcycle. But that’s what they did. On purpose, too. Just like they tried to kill my Susu.”

She looked at David. “I’ll help your friend Cal by telling what I saw. You let him know, will you?”

“I’ll take care of it. Thanks.”

“Would you like to come and spend the night with me?” Amy asked her.

Dodie shook her head. “That’s real nice of you, but I’m sort of over being scared. Pete, next door, already said he’d lend me his rottweiler. Nobody messes with that mutt.”

“Your neighbor gave me the license number of the van that hit your dog,” the deputy said. “I doubt you’ll have any more trouble tonight.”

While she and David were driving to Gert’s to pick up Sarah, Amy asked, “Do you think the case will come to court?”

“A trial, you mean? I doubt it.”

“You helped your friend, and Dodie Thomas, too.” She wanted to add how wonderful she thought he was for going out of his way to do so, but she worried that he might think she was trying to sneak in some therapy, so all she said was, “You’re a good guy.”

The next morning, as she was leaving for work, she found a note on her door. “Susu survived with a broken leg.” She smiled, tucking the paper into her bag. David hadn’t signed it, but she intended to keep her one and only note from him.

She felt good about what she saw as his beginning reconciliation with the legal profession. He’d gone to bat for Cal, hadn’t he? She was sure that, if necessary, he’d represent Cal in court. He might still be in denial, but each time he helped someone sort out a legal mess, she believed he drew closer to returning to the profession he’d once loved.

Amy sang along with the radio all the way to Gert’s. Just wait until she sprang her wonderful surprise on him this weekend.

On Saturday, Russ and Mari Simon greeted Amy, David and Sarah with enthusiasm. “Elias is out by the corral,” Russ said. “He can’t wait to show off his pony to Sarah.”

“So let’s join him there, then,” Amy said after setting down a small bag on the porch.

As they made their way to the corral, David looked around at Amy’s brother’s layout, startled when he saw the size of the horses in a nearby field. “Those are big ones. Amy didn’t mention you bred draft horses.”

“They may look gray, but they’re actually Blues,” Mari told them. “Elias’s pony, Buddy, is a dapple-gray, though.”

“That’s the pony’s name, Buddy?” Sarah asked.

Mari smiled at her. “Yes, and he’s as friendly as his name sounds. Actually we have a second pony now, a chestnut mare named Cheri.”

“Is that a French word?” Sarah asked.

“How smart of you,” Mari said. “Yes, it means dear.”

“Amy’s got a French dictionary. She taught me the word for pumpkin and how to say hello and goodbye.”

Three-year-old Elias was sitting on the fence under the watchful eye of a ranch hand propped against the fence beside him. He lifted the boy down and Elias ran to meet them.

“You’re Sarah,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her.

“And you’re Elias,” she said. “Hi.”

“You can ride one of my ponies,” he told her.

“Buddy or Cheri?”

“Cheri ’cause she’s a girl. She’s my sister’s pony, ’cept Izzy’s too little to ride.”

“That’s short for Isabel, in case you wondered,” Mari said. “She’s three months old.”

David led Sarah to where the ranch hand held the
lead of the chestnut pony, lifted her into the saddle and stood there with his hand bracing her. “Okay?” he asked.

“She’s not nearly so high up as the camel,” Sarah said, sounding relieved.

Russ settled Elias on the gray pony, then moved to shorten the stirrups on the chestnut to fit Sarah. “You take hold of the reins,” he told her. “Hank, here, is going to lead the pony and he’ll tell you what to do with the reins. This is your first time so Cheri will stay on the lead. When you’ve ridden a couple times you’ll be ready to try it on your own.”

“You mean I get to come back here?” she asked.

“Anytime you want,” Russ assured her.

She beamed at him, making David smile at her obvious pleasure.

They all settled either on the fence or leaning against it to watch the children walk the ponies around the riding ring, Elias on his own.

David heard Mari say to Amy, “The keys are up at the house. Whenever you want to go, just say the word.”

Glancing at Amy, he asked, “Go where?”

“It’s a secret.” She slid off the fence and walked over to where Sarah was riding, matching her pace to the pony’s while she asked the girl something in such a low tone that he couldn’t quite catch the words.

“It’s okay with me,” Sarah replied. “I like it here.” She looked at her father and waved. “Bye, Daddy,” she said. “Have fun.”

Have fun.
Words he’d often said to Sarah these past
weeks. And today she was clearly enjoying herself. He waved back at his daughter.

Amy took his hand, and as she led him away from the corral toward the house, they were joined by Mari. “Too bad Isabel’s napping, you’ll have to wait till next time to say hello to her. Don’t worry about Sarah. She’ll be fine with us. Elias was thrilled to know she was coming. We’ll expect you when we see you.”

When they were back in his pickup, David said, “I suppose you’re going to drag out this surprise stuff.”

“What else? Go back to the highway and turn toward Genoa. Russ says we can pick up Kingsbury Grade there, if you know what that is.”

“We’re going to Lake Tahoe?”

She grinned at him. “Jackpot.”

“Which brings sailing to mind. But I don’t have a boat.”

“My lips are sealed.”

He slanted her a mock frown. “What if I don’t like surprises?”

“Then you’ll be out of luck, won’t you? How did you like my brother’s ranch?”

“Nice spread.”

“I adore Mari—he was so fortunate to find her. His first wife was the pits.”

“She run off with someone?”

“Not with anyone, but she did run off when he decided he wanted to raise horses.”

“I remember you saying he chose horses over law. Lucky guy.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to start a horse ranch?” She actually sounded alarmed.

Unable to resist, he looked at her straightfaced and said, “No, I was thinking of pigs.”

She turned to stare at him. “You
what?
”

He couldn’t keep the grin back and she scowled at him. “I’ll get you for that.”

“You take things too seriously. Stop being an analyst on your time off. Gert manages to.”

“True.” She sighed. After a moment, she added, “Tell you what—the rest of this day I’ll do my best to be frivolous.”

“I like the sound of that. I’d like it still more if Frivolous Amy would tell me what she’s going to be frivolous doing.”

“You are one impatient man. A few more miles and we’ll be in Incline Village. Then all will be revealed.”

“Our destination is Incline, then, not this side of the lake.”

She nodded.

As they approached the village she directed his turns until he found himself in the parking area of what looked to be a new and upscale condominium complex.

“Do you have instructions on where to park, too?” he asked, noting that all the slots were marked.

“Mari says her grandfather owns garage number one, so we can park in there.”

“We’re going to visit Mari’s grandfather?”

“Not quite.”

David shrugged and pulled in front of the garage
marked with a number one. “The door’s closed. Now what?”

Amy pointed a key at the garage and pushed a button on it. Inside was a white Jag, with room for David’s truck next to it. Amy took care of closing the door and they exited through a breezeway to the complex proper, which required the use of another key to enter. Faced with two closed elevator doors, David said, “I assume we go up.”

She shot him a triumphant grin. “No, actually we go down to get to the surprise. Use the elevator to the left.”

“If you say so.”

Inside, she pushed a button and the elevator dropped down. The doors opened, and through the windows of the lounge they came out into, David could see a small marina.

Amy hurried past him to throw open a door to the outside. “Voilà!” she cried.

David followed her out. Standing on a wooden dock, he stared up at the most graceful sailboat he’d ever seen, the
Frivolous.
He burst out laughing. “We’re even,” he told Amy.

“Mari’s grandfather said we could use the boat whenever we liked. He’s at his cottage on Mackinac Island right now, so this is a good time.”

David’s gaze drifted from the boat back to the rise of the condominium. He thought about the penthouse elevator and the cottage on Mackinac Island. “Just who is her grandfather?”

“Oh, I guess I assumed you knew he was Joseph Haskell.”

David shook his head. Everyone knew who Joe Haskell was, and he vaguely recalled something a couple of years ago about the man finding a long-lost granddaughter. “Your brother is married to the Haskell heir?” he asked.

She nodded. “Mari doesn’t think of herself like that. You must have been able to see she doesn’t.”

Amy was right, he’d liked Mari from the start. “So we’re going to sail the
Frivolous
into the blue waters of Lake Tahoe. You’ve surprised me, all right.” He looked up at the boat again. “It’ll take both of us to handle her.”

Grinning at him, she said, “That’s why I brought you along—I knew I couldn’t do it alone.”

“Sure. And I’m the gingerbread man.”

Amy’s eyebrows rose. “The gingerbread man?”

David knew where he’d gotten the words, knew, too, why they’d popped into his mind. A year ago he’d actually thought of himself as the gingerbread man, running, running as fast as he can. In place.

“It’s a story Sarah liked read to her when she was little.” He recalled now that he’d had the time to read to his daughter when she was a toddler, before he joined Murdock’s firm, a move Iris had urged him to make. A mistake. Still, couldn’t he have made time for Sarah?