Heart of Hurricane (15 page)

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An hour later, as he negotiated the littered streets between Althea's house and his apartment, Ward's face was tight with rage.

"That bastard! That sorry bastard!" His balled fist slammed against the steering wheel, making the whole column shudder. "No wonder she's so dead set against marriage," he muttered angrily. The thought of Althea living in the same house with those people made him physically ill. After listening to the man and seeing the shape his wife was in, it took very little imagination to figure out what Althea's childhood must have been like. Now he understood why she was so protective of Greg. Now he understood a lot of things.

I wonder if the bastard ever hit her?
As soon as the question formed, so did the answer, and his hands clenched around the wheel as though he would break it in two. "I'll kill him!" he snarled irrationally. "I'll kill him!" Seething, he drove through the littered streets automatically, pictures of Althea at the mercy of that brutish man flashing through his brain, tormenting him.

Then suddenly a thought more chilling than all the rest occurred to him. Dear Lord, surely she doesn't think that I would ever treat her that way?

As before, the answer was quick in coming, and Ward groaned, despair settling over him like the blackness of night.

When he pulled into his allotted space in the condominium's parking garage he turned off the ignition but remained in his seat. Propping his elbows on the steering wheel, he buried his head in his hands.
If only he'd known.
If only he'd guessed
. Looking back on the past few months, he could see clearly all the mistakes he'd made, and he couldn't blame Althea for being leery of him. He was well aware of his shortcomings: his quick temper, his impatience, his tendency to dominate those around him. He'd cut off his arm before he'd harm a hair on Althea's head, but she didn't know that. To her he must seem like a younger version of her uncle.

He lifted his head and stared straight ahead, not seeing the concrete-block wall in front of the car. Slowly his eyes narrowed and his jaw set determinedly. By heaven! He would gain her trust if it killed him!

"Now, that's what I call a lovers' moon," Joe Kingman announced in his rough, gravelly voice. Eyes twinkling, he slanted his wife a decidedly lascivious look and added enticingly, "Wanna go for a little stroll?"

"Behave yourself, Joe," Evelyn admonished, slapping the hand that was fondling her knee, but the loving look in her brown eyes belied her severe tone. "You'll have Althea thinking you're a dirty old man."

"Ah, well. The truth had to come out sometime," Joe replied with a resigned sigh. He put his arm around his wife and pulled her closer, until her head rested on his shoulder. One booted foot kept the porch swing they occupied in motion, its slow, rhythmic creak providing a counterpoint to the steady croaking of the bull frog down by the pond.

Althea smiled as she watched Joe rub his chin affectionately against the top of Evelyn's head. They're so different, she mused silently, and yet, strangely, so perfect for each other. Joe was rough around the edges, a big, gruff man with an unruly head of iron-gray hair, twinkling blue eyes and skin that resembled old leather. Evelyn, with her cap of silver curls and well-modulated voice, was small, slender and elegant, a lady in the nicest sense of the word.

Althea felt the warm glow that had been building deep inside her ever since she'd met Ward's parents grow a little warmer. They had been there a week, but she was still amazed at the love these two people had for one another, after all these years. You couldn't be around them without noticing it. Every time they looked at one another, every time they spoke, touched, the tenderness and caring that flowed between them was almost palpable. Althea found it amazing and touching and almost painfully beautiful that the years had done nothing to diminish the feelings that had drawn them together.

After a week in their company she was beginning to experience the first faint stirrings of hope that maybe— just maybe—she had been wrong, that perhaps there was a chance for her and Ward after all. For Joe Kingman was every bit as forceful and intense and dominant as his son. With his men he was rough and ready and as tough as old boots, yet with Evelyn he was gentle and loving.

Althea's eyes slid covertly to Ward, where he sat slouched down on his spine in the other porch rocker. His elbows were propped on the arms of the rocker, his interlaced fingers supporting his chin. His long legs were crossed at the ankle and stretched out in front of him. He was staring out at the star-sprinkled black sky, and in the faint glow of light spilling from the house Althea could see that his face was pensive, remote.

A fluttery sensation stirred within Althea as she drank in his rugged good looks, the indolent grace of his powerful body. Dressed in faded jeans, a western-cut blue-checked shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a dusty, well-worn pair of boots, he looked different—more relaxed, and if possible, even more ruggedly male. Althea's heart ached with love for him.
Was it possible? Could they really find happiness together?

As always, when her mind flirted with that idea, her immediate reaction was pure fright. The past was too vivid, too painful. It loomed in her memory like a deep black pit. Inch by slow inch, she had clawed her way out of that darkness and built a new life for herself and Greg, a secure, calm life, a safe life. She told herself only a fool would jeopardize that. Yet, daily, the longing to give in to her feelings and follow her heart grew stronger.

Abruptly Ward rose to his feet. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I've got a few things I need to attend to."

"Do you need my help?"

Althea had started to rise as she asked the question, but Ward waved her back down. "No. No, that's okay. I've just got a few reports to study. You sit out here and enjoy the night with Mom and Dad." He gave them all a pleasant smile and stepped back inside the house.

A soft breeze fluttered the wind chime hanging from the roof of the porch and set it to tinkling. The faint scent of roses wafted through the summer night. Closing her eyes, Althea leaned her head back against the high-backed rocker and breathed deeply of the light perfume, wondering why she felt so . . . abandoned. It was foolish. Why should she be upset just because for the past week Ward had been treating her with the utmost respect and courtesy? He had refused to allow her to work more than eight hours a day; he was polite, thoughtful, pleasant—if somewhat distant—and completely businesslike. She should be grateful. It was what she wanted, after all. Yet this desolate feeling persisted.

"That boy works too hard," Joe grumbled crossly. "For once in his life he brings a pretty girl home with him, and what does he do? He holes up in that study, buried up to his eyeballs in work!"

"You're a fine one to talk," Evelyn chided. "Ever since I've known you, you've worked from sunup to sundown yourself."

"Maybe so. But at least when the sun goes down I've got enough sense to turn my attention to the finer things in life . . ."He paused and raised his brows hopefully. "... like a walk in the moonlight with a beautiful woman."

"Joe Kingman, you have a one-track mind!" Evelyn scolded in loving exasperation. "But I do agree with you about Ward. He works too hard. What he needs is to settle down with a good woman." She turned to Althea and smiled. "That's why we were so happy when he told us he was bringing you here, my dear."

Color flooded Althea's face, and she was devoutly thankful for the dim lighting on the porch. "I'm afraid you've misunderstood the situation, Mrs. Kingman," she corrected in a weak voice. "Ward and I are not . . . that is . . . I'm just his assistant. While the office is being repaired we have to work elsewhere anyway. Ward decided that since you already had a computer hookup, he could come here and visit with you and stay on top of things at the office at the same time. But for me, at least, this is strictly a business trip."

"If you say so, dear," Evelyn said with a small knowing smile. "But I feel I must tell you that Ward has often visited us for several days, even weeks at a time, and he never once brought Miss Dunston with him. He's never brought any woman here."

Althea shifted uncomfortably under the smug challenge in the older woman's expression. She had no answer for that, but evidently one wasn't expected, for after a moment of awkward silence Evelyn took pity on her and adroitly changed the subject.

The next hour was spent enjoying the warm summer night and talking quietly. Both Evelyn and Joe were fascinating people, with a wide range of interests, but Althea noted with amusement that no matter what the topic, each managed eventually to bring the conversation back to their mutual favorite subject: their son. They seemed determined to fill her in on every aspect of Ward's past, from his boyhood years on the ranch to his struggle to succeed in his own business. The picture they painted was of a bright, mischievous, endearingly stubborn little boy who grew into a brilliant, ambitious man with an unshakable desire to succeed at whatever he undertook. Althea was uncomfortably aware that if she hadn't already been in love with Ward, the conversation with his parents would certainly have done the trick.

Finally, no longer able to stifle her yawns, Althea stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll say good night," she said, smiling at her hosts.

"Of course, my dear," they replied in unison. "We'll see you in the morning," Evelyn added. "Sleep well."

Althea heard the porch swing creak loudly as she stepped into the house; she smiled, wondering if Joe had finally talked Evelyn into that walk in the moonlight.

As Althea passed the study door on her way to her room she paused, wondering if she should renew her offer of help. She lifted her arm to knock, hesitated, then lowered it again.
No. No, if Ward needed her help he was more than capable of asking for it. Demanding it, most likely. The fact that he hadn't could only mean that he didn't want it.

The thought was oddly depressing, and Althea felt tears suddenly sting her eyes. Irritated, she turned and stomped up the stairs, determined to put Ward out of her mind.

It proved to be easier said than done. Hours later, despite being bone-tired, sleep still eluded her, and Althea was tossing and turning in the wide four-poster bed.

The house was quiet. She had heard Joe and Evelyn come upstairs shortly after she had, and she assumed that Ward had also retired. Disgusted, Althea finally threw back the covers and sat up. Deciding to get a glass of water and take two aspirin, she pulled the matching robe on over her champagne silk nightgown and headed for the door.

The narrow hallway was lit by only a dim night-light. Tiptoeing slowly so as not to wake anyone, Althea made her way toward the bathroom. She had just closed her fingers around the knob when the door was opened from the inside and she was jerked forward.

"Oh!" The startled gasp burst from Althea as she hit a solid wall of warm muscled flesh.

For a brief moment her face was pressed against a soap-scented mat of silky chest hairs; then steadying hands grasped her upper arms and eased her away. "Are you all right?"

Stunned, Althea stared up at Ward, unable to answer. Her mouth went dry and her throat tightened painfully as she studied his uncompromisingly male features, cast in soft-edged shadows by the dim light. His hair was tousled and hanging in dark wet ringlets across his forehead and his mouth was curved upward in an indulgent smile. Althea's heart fluttered at his nearness. He wore only a towel around his lean middle. Standing there, just inches from him, Althea experienced an overwhelming desire to throw herself into his arms and burrow close, to bury her face and nose in the luxuriant mat of hair on his chest.

As though drawn by a power beyond her control, Althea leaned closer. Her lips parted and her eyes grew heavy-lidded, glazed with desire. Her hands, which lay against the sides of his lean waist, clutched him, her fingers unconsciously flexing against the warm male flesh. Eyes closed, head thrown back, she waited breathlessly for his kiss . . . but it never came.

Instead she felt herself being firmly set back a step, and her eyes flew open. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to knock you off balance." Ward eased by her and gave her a bland, polite smile. "What are you doing up at this hour, anyway? Having trouble sleeping?"

"Yes. I ... uh ... I was just going to get a drink of water," Althea stammered uncertainly, brushing the heavy fall of golden hair away from her face. She was confused. The atmosphere in the darkened hall was so intimate, so evocative, yet Ward was being so coolly impersonal. She couldn't believe that this was the same man who had just a week ago vowed that he loved her and wanted to marry her.

"I see." With a pleasant smile, Ward gestured toward the room he had just vacated. "In that case, it's all yours. Good night, Althea. See you in the morning."

Bewildered, Althea watched him walk down the hall to his room and step inside without once looking back. For several minutes she just stood there staring at his closed door and fighting against the urge to cry. Don't be a fool, she told herself sternly. You told him to stay away from you, that you didn't want to get involved. You can't blame him if he took you at your word.

She turned slowly and walked back to her room, completely forgetting the glass of water which she had come for.
No. She didn't blame him. But that didn't stop the hurting
.

After a restless night Althea awoke the next morning feeling bleary-eyed and wooden-headed. She was pale and there were violet shadows under her eyes that not even a careful application of makeup could disguise. Disgusted, she grimaced at her reflection, then gave her hair one last flick with the brush and left the room.

To Althea's surprise, when she entered the kitchen, only Evelyn was there. "Good heavens! Am I that late?" she exclaimed as she noted the remains of breakfast on two plates.

Evelyn looked up from the morning paper she was reading and smiled. "No, you're not late. The men just decided to get an early start this morning. Joe is out in the far section mending fences, and Ward had to go into

Austin." She picked up the coffeepot and poured another cup. "Come have coffee while I get you some breakfast."

"What did Ward go into Austin for?" Althea asked as casually as she could while watching Evelyn deftly crack an egg on the side of the skillet and drop it into sizzling butter.

"I don't know. He didn't say."

"Do you know if he'll be gone long?"

"All day, I expect. He said for you to take the day off."

"I see." Althea cradled her cup in both hands and absently sipped the black brew. There was no business pending in Austin that she knew of, so why had Ward taken off at the crack of dawn? And why hadn't he told her that he was going? Maybe he just wanted some time on his own, she told herself despondently. Maybe he's tired of being cooped up with you, day after day. Or maybe he has a girlfriend in Austin.

The very thought created a burning pain just beneath Althea's breastbone, but she couldn't dismiss it from her mind. It was entirely possible. He had been raised here and was bound to know a lot of people. She had pushed him away so many times, maybe he had given up. Maybe he was trying to find solace with someone else. Or maybe he just no longer cares.

She was so preoccupied with her gloomy thoughts when Evelyn placed her breakfast in front of her that-she picked up her fork and began to eat automatically, not even tasting the fluffy eggs and crisp bacon.

"Why don't you let me show you around the ranch today," Evelyn suggested as she rejoined Althea at the table. "Now that the fall semester has started at U.T., the weekends are about the only time I'll have free, and the men are always too busy. That is, unless there's something else you'd rather do."

"No. I'd love to see the ranch," Althea agreed readily, eager for anything that might keep her mind off Ward's puzzling behavior. "Just give me a few minutes to change into my jeans."

The Triple K was a fairly large spread and Evelyn gave Althea the choice of covering it on horseback or in the pickup. Since Althea had never been on a horse in her life, she opted for the latter, but after only a few hours she was beginning to question the wisdom of her choice. With a total disregard for the rough but clearly defined roads that ran through the property, Evelyn drove the bucking truck over hill and dale, keeping up a running narrative on the points of interest, oblivious of the fact that Althea was holding on for dear life. After being jostled and bounced for over three hours, Althea felt as though she had taken a severe beating and was sure she would be black and blue by evening.

Despite her discomfort, Althea was impressed. There was a unique beauty about this rugged land of rocky, rolling hills. Huge oaks, feathery-leafed gnarled mes-quite, prickly cactus and bear grass dotted the arid pastures, while ash, Cottonwood and pecan trees lined the banks of the creek, their spreading branches forming a leafy canopy over the clear running stream.