Lone Tree (17 page)

“I beg to differ with you,” Luke said. His tone and
expression were serious. “It’s bad.”

Glen Charles looked dubiously at his plate. Lainie
fanned her mouth with both hands.

“Didn’t anybody warn her?” Miles asked.

“Thought I did,” Carter said. “Told her Rosalie had
cooked specially for Reed. Reckon now I should’ve added that the small one was
his and the bigger one was ours.”

Glen Charles appeared to relax. He must’ve spooned
his food from the correct dish.

“It’s that hot?” Reed looked genuinely puzzled.

“It’s that hot,” Luke assured him.

She was wondering if she’d survive the night, and
they were arguing over degrees of heat.

“But I eat it all the time,” Reed said.

“Yeah, but that’s you,” Luke told him.

Lainie had finished all the ice within reach, and
very little tea was left in either glass. Most of it rested in puddles on the
tabletop and was dripping to the floor to form more puddles there. She pushed
away from the table.

Rosalie appeared. “Are you all right? I heard that
you—”

“Goodnight,” Lainie managed. Tears ran freely down
her face as she backed away.

Miles said, looking anxious, “Are you sure you’re—?”

“Goodnight,” Lainie said.

“Lainie, can I help you?” Rosalie frowned in
concern.

Lainie dodged around her. “Goodnight.” She turned
and ran.

Inside the dining room of the main house, Miles’s
birthday party was in full swing. And Lainie’s nerves were in overdrive. She
stood rigidly in her strappy heeled sandals and surveyed the busy room. When
she realized that one glossy red shoe was beating a staccato on the hardwood
floor, she took in a long breath and forced herself to be still.

Glen Charles walked toward her with one of the
prettiest women Lainie had ever seen; the woman’s golden hair, sea green eyes
and creamy skin would allow her to hold her own with any Hollywood starlet.

“Evenin’, Lainie,” he said. “Like you to meet my
wife, Lori.”

“Hi.” Lainie extended her hand. Paying attention to
one person was easier than trying to keep track of a whole roomful of people.
“It’s good to meet you. I understand you live nearby, but we’ve never run
across each other.”

“A five-year-old and a two-year-old keep me close to
home. But tonight his mama’s got the kids.” As she took her husband’s hand she
gave him a warm look. “All night.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Glen Charles’s face turned rosy red.
“Well.”

“So pardon us when we leave early,” Lori said
confidingly to Lainie.

“Honey, uh...” His gaze flicked from his wife to the
floor, and then around the room before it finally got to Lainie. He looked like
he wanted to tip his hat, but he wasn’t wearing one. “We best be goin’,” he
said awkwardly. And froze in place. “Uh, circulate, I mean. Not, uh—”

Lainie cleared her throat and tried to keep her face
straight.

“Excuse us,” Lori said politely, possibly to head
off her husband before he dug himself in deeper. “Believe we’ll visit the
dessert table over there. Heard there was pecan pie.”

Lainie watched them walk away, amused with the many
sides of cowboys, then once more she started scanning tables, sideboards and
servers. When she realized her foot was tapping away, she again stilled it.

Miles was nowhere in sight, and while she was
wondering about him a familiar arm descended upon her shoulders. She recognized
both Reed’s touch and his aftershave lotion. The two facts together seemed
intimate.

“You’ve done a good job,” he whispered into her ear.

“Thanks.” Maybe half the people were still seated,
some stood with plates at the sideboard, some were headed toward the drawing
room and others were already in there. Where was Miles?

“And you’re looking right pretty tonight.”

“You, too.” With that brief exchange she felt her
anxiety lighten. She’d been aware of him—as was possibly every other woman in
the room—the moment he’d walked in. In between the healthy shock of black wavy
hair and shiny black boots, he wore a black-and-red checked shirt, red string
tie, black dress jeans and a wide black leather belt fastened by a silver
buckle. Yep, Reed Smith was a looker. The only other man in the room who came
close was Mack Jameson, who’d arrived with Lorette, daughter of the owner of
the Lazy L.

Reed’s arm was still around Lainie. His hand cupped a
shoulder left bare by the white blouse she wore tucked into a red flared skirt.
One thin strap over each shoulder held the blouse in place. Often Reed found a
reason to touch her, whether it be brief or lingering, and the almost constant
contact made it that much more difficult for her to resist the draw she’d been
fighting since she’d met him. And she knew that he knew exactly what he was
doing.

“Haven’t seen you eat anything yet,” he said.

“I had a couple of prawns.” And it’d been difficult
getting them down.

“Relax, Lainie,” he said mildly. “Or you’ll give
yourself an ulcer before the evening’s over.”

She still hadn’t caught sight of Miles, but she
heard his bellowing laugh from somewhere and knew that everything was all right
with him.

“If you tried real hard, you think you could stop
tapping your foot?” Reed asked. “You’re reminding me of a windup toy that got
stuck.”

She let her breath out in a sudden giving-up laugh and
then leaned into Reed.

“Um,” he said, “that’s nice.” The arm around her
shoulders lowered until his hand rested at her waist.

“Um,” she agreed.

His lips brushed her hair. “I’m saving a dance for
you later.”

“Uh-uh. I don’t know how to line dance.”

“Not what I meant. I mean the kind where we get to
hold each other really close.”

“Then you must not be talking about a promenade.”

“Nope, not—” He pulled back to give her a curious
look. “Where did you—?”

“I get around.”

“You do, huh. Well, it’s entirely another kind of
dance I have in mind. I’ll show you when the time comes.”

“Okay.”

His chuckle was sudden and deep. “I’m not used to
you being so agreeable. I like you like this.”

She ignored the comment. “But you signed up for line
dancing. I saw your name.”

“Uh-huh. Jackie and I partner each other. She’s good
enough she makes me look good.” His gaze roamed the room. “And they’re setting
up now. I’m supposed to be rounding everybody up.”

The hand at her waist squeezed her closer as he said
goodbye with a touch instead of words. He walked over to where Mack and Randy
stood. Randy was empty-handed; Mack held a bottle of beer and tilted it to his
mouth as Reed walked up. At the same moment, Miles joined them from a different
direction.

Lainie spoke to the serving crew about clearing the
empty tables. When she turned back, she noticed Reed and Randy had disappeared
and Mack and Miles were still talking. Mack was a fraction shorter than Miles.
Miles was sipping from a can of Seven-Up. She started toward the drawing room
where the band was setting up, but spied the two men heading her way so she
stopped and waited.

Mack nodded in greeting. “Just telling your boss
here I finally remembered where I’d seen you before.”

Her interest sharpened. “You looked familiar to me,
too, but I couldn’t place you. So where and when did we meet?”

“Spent a summer on the West Coast some years back,
working at a stable in Half Moon Bay. You came in one weekend with your parents
and rented mounts. If I remember right, you and your daddy were amateurs, but
didn’t need any help ’cause your mama was a pro. Looked like she’d been born on
top of a horse.”

Lainie’s mind flashed back. She remembered the tall
cowboy, the battered felt hat that only served to enhance his rugged good
looks, his blood-red shirt and interested eyes as he helped her mount. The way
Walter had watched them made her think he’d also noticed the cowboy’s
attention. She’d just turned sixteen, old enough to garner attention but not
old enough to be out from under her father’s eye. She remembered her mother in
corduroys and a dark-blue checked shirt, and how she’d insisted upon looking at
all the horses before choosing the three she wanted.

Although Lainie’s gaze remained on Mack, it was
Miles she was most aware of. He stood on her right, watching her, and she had
the uncanny feeling he’d somehow shared her flashback, as if it had been
reflected in her eyes.

“Yes,” she told Mack, making her voice casual. “You
remember right, and I remember you now. You haven’t changed much.”

“You have. You’re prettier.” He looked from her to
Miles and back again. “Sounds like that band means business in there, so I best
go join Lorette. She might get a mite perturbed if her partner doesn’t show.”

He walked away and Lainie faced Miles. She read
nothing in his expression and wondered if he read anything in hers. Voice
casual, he said, “Every once in a while we realize what a small world we live
in. This Half Moon Bay, it’s on the beach?”

“We rode to the beach and then onto the sand, if
that’s what you mean.”

“So your mama taught you how to ride before you came
here.”

“No. I sat on a horse that followed hers. Reed
taught me how to ride, how to tack up, take care of your mount, let it know
what you want it to do.”

Someone hailed him, and he excused himself.

She watched the servers restoring the room while she
listened to the country music band warming up, but her surroundings only had
half her attention. Was she being toyed with? Was it possible she was the one
being hoodwinked?

It wouldn’t be difficult to find information on her,
even what her mother’s maiden name was. Miles wasn’t what she’d call computer
literate, but he could get info by asking someone else to look it up. But he’d
have to suspect who she was before he’d start snooping, and there was no reason
for him to think he even had a grandchild. Her mother had abruptly cut ties to
Texas and left it that way for her lifetime.

Could Lainie’s resemblance to her grandmother have
sparked his curiosity? Sure, there was a likeness—but there were even more
dissimilarities. On that basis alone it’d be far-fetched for him to think, hey,
wait a minute, and start investigating his secretary to see if maybe she was a
relative.

No matter how she worked it through, it came back to
the same thing. Miles would have to be suspicious of her. There was no reason
for him to be so. And if he were, he’d meet the suspicion head-on, not dance
around on the outskirts of it. Mentally she threw up her hands and then headed
for the drawing room.

The dancers had formed a line facing the guests,
with their backs to the band. The women wore fancy yoked shirts and elaborately
decorated jeans but didn’t outshine the men. Bobbie and Randy stood next to
Jackie and Reed, and Lainie noticed Raymond and Margene beaming with pride as
they watched their daughters. Mack and Lorette were at the end. Lainie
recognized the other two couples but couldn’t put names to them.

The partners faced each other, bowed, then
straightened back into a line and tucked their hands inside the back pockets of
their jeans, palms out. The fiddler started “
Turkey in the Straw,”
and
the dancers exploded. Turning sideways, they skipped in place in a giddy-up
motion, then faced forward and changed their steps, now two fast ones to one
side and then two to the other. Arms were as busy as their feet. Thumbs were
hooked in their belts, then arms akimbo, then hands again in their pockets.
Boots moved across the floor so fast they were like drops of water skittering
in a hot skillet.

Jackie Lyn was indeed good. But she didn’t make Reed
look good, because he was better. He lifted her off her feet with one arm
around her waist, swung in a fast circle, put her back down and nobody missed a
beat. The five couples moved like a practiced team, the fluid moves
synchronized. These people had danced together before.

As Lainie watched them, she felt inadequate. She’d
promised to dance with Reed, but no way could she equal his grace and rhythm.

“Your man is the best dancer on the floor,” a woman
next to Lainie said.

She glanced at her, recalled that her name was
Agnes. Wistfully, the woman watched the dancers. “I used to dance, years ago,
but was never that good. His partner’s not bad, either.”

“My man? You must be misunderstanding the
relationship. Reed is the ranch foreman, and I’m Miles’s secretary.”

Agnes gave her a humoring look. “Maybe that’s so.
But any fool can tell how special you each are to the other.”

Oh, yeah? Lainie had been fighting this for three
months. Any fool could tell?

The number ended to loud and appreciative applause,
and Reed made his way to Lainie. “Give me a minute to catch my breath, and I’ll
be ready to get back out there with you.” She stared blankly at him, then
looked for Agnes, but the woman was gone.