Authors: Janet Dailey
'No…' Jennifer had hesitated, a rebellious, devilish idea forming in her head. 'I think I'd rather pick out a gift for Logan myself.'
'As for Mandy, Logan's mother, you can always play it safe by getting her the latest best-seller.'
'Mmmm, thanks,' Jennifer had replied absently, hugging her secret plans to herself in malicious glee.
It was three days later before she was finally able to have a free afternoon. Jennifer had no difficulty locating Mrs. Taylor's present. Taking Sheila's advice, she had gone to the local bookstore and discovered them in the midst of unpacking the latest best-sellers and chose a biography. She also found a very delicately filigreed metal bookmarker which she also purchased. With the simple task done, she went in search of Logan's present. Several stops later she finally found what she was looking for. She was nearly bubbling with laughter as she watched the skeptical clerk wrapping it up for her.
Leaving the store, Jennifer glanced at her watch. Sheila was to pick her up in less than an hour. Time enough to have a leisurely cup of coffee at the restaurant.
She chose the little café that Logan had taken her to, for no other reason, she told herself, except that it was close at hand. It was quite crowded with skiers who were beginning to call it a day on the slopes. The only free table she could see was a small one for two off in the corner. She was half finished with her coffee when she happened to look up and notice Dirk Hamilton walk in the door. By chance he spotted her at almost the same instant. He glanced around the full tables, then back at Jennifer, and hesitated before striding over to the table.
'Would you object to sharing the table with me, Jenny?' Dirk asked politely, almost steeling himself for her refusal.
'Of course not,' she smiled.
He managed a half smile of gratitude before he settled his stocky frame in the chair opposite her. For some reason his calling her Jenny didn't ruffle the hair in the back of her neck. The way Logan said it always made it sound like a substitute for 'darling'.
'You don't mind me calling you Jenny, do you?' Dirk questioned after ordering a cup of coffee. 'The name Jennifer always conjures up the image of a sophisticated person for me, and there's not a trace of artificialness about you.'
'I'll take that as a compliment, thank you,' Jennifer laughed. 'Strangely enough it's only since I've come to Jackson that people have shortened my name. I resented it a great deal at first.'
'I've noticed that Logan Taylor calls you Jenny.' A bitter smile played across his lips. 'Was it the name you resented or the person using it?'
'Since he's played such an active role in my sister's life, I think I'll let that question pass.'
'I detect a lack of endorsement of the indomitable Mr. Taylor in your statement.' Dirk eyed her curiously. 'Doesn't his charm work its magic on you?'
'I'm just not taken in by it,' Jennifer asserted. Her basic honesty refused to let her lie about the physical attraction he aroused in her. 'Sheila is another question.'
'Sheila is blinded by his security,' Dirk sighed. Exasperation and anger mingled with his words. 'His material security.'
'Raising two children on your own usually forces a person to look at the financial side of life.' Jennifer spoke up firmly, not liking the picture Dirk was painting of her sister as a gold-digger.
'And an artist can rarely offer much promise of that, can he?' It was a rhetorical question that lapsed into silence as Dirk stared moodily at the table. Finally when the waitress had returned with his coffee, Dirk looked up at Jennifer, a very determined expression on his square-jawed face. 'When I first started out painting, I had to prostitute a lot of my work to survive. I'm thirty-five years old, Jenny. Between exhibits and commissions, I've passed that early stage of struggle. I make a fairly adequate living.'
His big fist slammed the table to emphasize his words. He glanced around him in embarrassment, then ran his hand through the dark thatch of his hair.
'But your sister has reduced me to the stage of a puppy dog, running in circles chasing his tail,' Dirk added grimly. 'There's no painting I particularly want to do here. It's all just an excuse. I take it she never talks about me to you?'
Jennifer shook her red-gold head negatively.
'I fell in love with her last summer, and I thought Sheila fell in love with me, too. I mean the kind of love where you accept the person the way they are. But all of a sudden she was talking about me getting a job and painting on the side. The financial future of an artist was too uncertain for her. She wanted to know there was money coming in every week, without being dependent upon the whims of the buying public. It didn't matter to her that painting was my life and my future. All those idyllic days were swept away by vicious arguments. I left, telling myself I was lucky to be rid of her and her materialistic world. I told myself she was better off with Logan, and in time, I'd get her out of my system.'
'But you couldn't convince yourself,' Jennifer stated softly.
'No,' Dirk agreed in a quiet, resigned voice. 'I had to come back one last time. So far, I haven't even seen the back of her head. My God!' he exclaimed suddenly, 'why am I unburdening all this on you!'
'I have a very sympathetic ear.' Jennifer's heart went out to her tortured companion. 'Besides, who would make a better conspirator than the victim's sister?'
'I couldn't let you do that.' The light that had flickered so hopefully in his dark eyes blinked out. 'I wouldn't want to put you in the position of being disloyal to your family.'
'How would I be doing that?' she quipped. 'The idea of Logan as Sheila's husband sends chills down my back. I would just be looking out after my sister's interests by introducing someone I thought more suitable back into her life.'
'You've set yourself out a demanding task. She's been making it perfectly dear that she doesn't want to see me.' Dirk shook his head ruefully, gradually being drawn into Jennifer's plot despite his misgivings.
'She certainly can't stop me from having my friends over, unless she kicks me out of the house, which I doubt. And if she should happen to be at home when you come over, well…?' Jennifer ended with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
'You're a conniving little witch.' But the smile on his face was so wide and such a marked change from the sullen, sober expression that Jennifer broke into a lilting laugh.
'I found her, Mommy!' a childish voice cried just before two red-parkaed arms flung themselves around Jennifer.
'Cindy, I didn't expect to see you,' Jennifer exclaimed in surprise.
'We been lookin' all over for you,' Cindy admonished as Jennifer glanced up to see Sheila and Eric making their way over to the table. Evidently Sheila hadn't seen her companion as yet.
'Hello, Cindy,' Dirk said quietly.
She turned a pair of startled blue eyes on him before breaking into an enormous smile and dashing over to his side.
'Oh, Dirk, I mithed you tho,' she lisped, her little voice trembling with emotion. 'Mommy thaid you'd never come back.'
'I thought I taught you how to say your S's,' Dirk stated, a mock reprimand sparkling out of his dark eyes.
'Sssss,' Cindy went. A sad almost lonely expression came on to her face as she enunciated very clearly, 'It didn't seem very important after you left us.'
Dirk never replied to her statement because he had just glanced up into Sheila's white face. Jennifer was amazed at the lack of expression in his face and voice as he greeted her quietly.
'Hello, Sheila. How are you?'
Sheila glanced numbly at her sister before mumbling that she was fine. Dirk turned to a very sulky-looking Eric.
'And how's my little man?'
'I'm not your little man!' Eric retorted sharply, stepping away from the hand reaching out to him.
'Aren't you glad Dirk is back, Mommy?' Cindy cried, then turned excitedly back to him. 'You should thee Ragth. He'th real big and fat now! You know what we bought him for Chrithmath? A toy pork chop! Ithn't that nithe!'
'Hush, Cindy!' Sheila's face was incredibly flushed as she met Dirk's glance. 'I'm sure Mr. Hamilton isn't interested in that.'
'Yes, he ith tho, aren't you, Dirk?' Cindy insisted.
'Of course,' he answered calmly, raising an eyebrow in Sheila's direction.
Cindy flicked her mother an 'I-told-you-so' glance before continuing. 'You should thee what I bought Eric. We're gonna open our prethenth Chrithmath Eve. Oh, I wish you could be there. Our tree ith tho beautiful.'
'Isn't that strange you should say that, Cindy?' Jennifer inserted quickly. 'I was just asking Dirk what his plans were for Christmas Eve, and he said he hadn't a thing to do. He was going to be all alone.'
She knew it was unfair using the child to further her plans, but Jennifer knew she would do anything to wrest her sister away from the clutches of Logan Taylor.
'Jennifer!' Sheila exclaimed in a horrified whisper with an angry, accusing gleam in her eyes.
'Do come, Dirk. Pleathe!' Cindy pleaded.
'Of course I'll come,' Dirk said, then looked over at Jennifer. 'If you're sure it's all right?'
'Seven o'clock in your best holiday attire!'
'It's a date,' Dirk smiled.
'Good. Well, I imagine you're ready to go,' Jennifer said to Sheila. 'I'll probably see you tomorrow, Dirk.'
The silence of Eric and Sheila was hidden by the chorus of good-byes exchanged among Cindy, Jennifer, and Dirk. They were out on the street when Sheila managed a very angry 'How could you?' to Jennifer which she shrugged off indifferently. After all, she had invited Dirk for her sister's own good. It was certainly nothing to do with needing a shield for herself from Logan's presence. Or was it?
Chapter Six
IT was the night before Christmas Eve and Jennifer had tucked Cindy and Eric into their beds more than a half hour ago. Sheila was still at the Lodge, working. Sheila. If anyone would have told Jennifer a week ago that there would be such a strained silence between them, she would have laughed. She had expected her sister to explode after the invitation to Dirk, thus allow Jennifer to use all her well-thought-out arguments. But her raven-haired sister had discovered a better weapon. Her silence was a much more eloquent accusation of betrayal, one that didn't allow Jennifer the opportunity for discussion.
With a sigh of annoyance, Jennifer closed the book that had failed to capture her attention. She gazed at the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree. They really had done a good job of decorating the spindly thing. It had taken hours of stringing popcorn by the two children and two sisters before they had enough garlands to fully circle the tree. Many of the ornaments had been too heavy, as Logan had decreed, but there had been some that they were able to use, which, with the aid of a few hand-made snowflakes, had dressed it out nicely in its holiday garb. A few applications of artificial snow had hidden the worst of the bare spots. And now with the twinkling fairy lights, it looked quite festive.
Restless stirrings from Eric's room quickly switched her thoughts back to Sheila and Dirk. It hadn't taken Jennifer long to discover that Eric's sullenness marked him as a second adversary in her desire to bring her sister and the artist together. But his reticence in accepting Dirk was all the more confusing when compared with Cindy's wholehearted endorsement.
She rose from the armchair and tiptoed quietly to his door to check on him. As her shadow filled the doorway, Eric turned his head towards her, a pair of wide-awake, questioning blue eyes studying her.
'Can't get to sleep?' she asked softly, not wishing their voices to wake Cindy in the next room. 'Is something troubling you, Eric?' He still failed to reply. 'Sometimes if you talk about it, your problem doesn't seem as bad when it's shared.'
He rolled over so that he was facing her as Jennifer walked over to sit beside him on the bed. She could tell he was mulling over her words, trying to decide if he wanted to tell her.
'I'll be glad to listen.'
He looked at her solemnly.
'Does God really hear everybody's prayer? Even a little kid's?'
'Most especially little children's,' Jennifer asserted with a smile.
'Does He always answer them?'
'Oh, yes. He always answers them, but sometimes, Eric, the answer is "no".' His shoulders drooped at her words, and his chin settled down on his chest. 'What was your prayer for?'
Two very sad blue eyes looked up at her with a hint of rebellion lurking in the darkness of his pupils.
'I prayed that Logan would marry Mommy.' There was no masking the defiance of his voice. 'And that Dirk would go away and never come back.'
Jennifer managed to smother her exclamation of dismay and reply calmly. 'That wouldn't be very fair to your sister. She likes Dirk, you know.'
'She's just a baby.' Eric's chin trembled at his effort to hold back the two giant tears that were forming in his eyes. 'The only reason she likes him is because he gave us Rags. He was just a dog that nobody wanted.'
'That's not true any more. Rags has a very good home here. I know Cindy loves him dearly, and I think you do too.'