“How could living possibly be dull amid all this beauty and peace and quiet?” she wondered aloud.
Sam’s grin indicated his relief at her words.
“I’m so glad you feel that way,” he admitted. “I was a bit uneasy this morning after I realized that I had talked you into a revolt.”
“Which was long overdue. I’m very grateful to you, because I probably would never have had the courage to do it if you hadn’t.”
“Oh, yes, you would,” Sam protested, a warmth in his eyes that made her heart jerk like a puppet on a string. “You have an enormous amount of courage, along with a lot of other fine qualities.”
There was a mist in her eyes and her lips were tremulous as she said shakily, “You’re very kind. And I don’t seem to be geared to kindness. It sort of makes me come apart at the seams! But thank you very much.”
“For promising you something I couldn’t deliver?” Sam asked, touched by her emotion but sensing that she did not want him to mention or even notice it.
“For being kind enough to want to promise me something, whether you could deliver it or not,” Alison insisted, and now she had herself under better control. “Maybe Mrs. Abbott wouldn’t have liked me, anyway.”
“Oh, she’d have liked you!” Sam seemed unshakably positive about that. “Andy was practically in tears when he learned that you were available for a job with his mother. But of course, a brand-new grandchild takes precedence over even a home Mrs. Abbott loves as much as she does her own.”
“Well, of course. What grandmother wouldn’t be willing to close up her home and travel around the world, if need be, to welcome a grandchild?”
Sam seemed very relieved by her acceptance of his news. After a moment, he went on, “Andy wants to come calling on you.”
Startled, Alison said quickly, “Oh, but I don’t think so.”
“You didn’t find him attractive and want to get to know him better?”
“Well, goodness, I barely met him. How could I know?”
There was a twinkle in Sam’s eyes.
“I got the impression from him that that was the main reason he wanted to come calling,” he told her, slightly amused by her reaction.
“Well, that’s very kind of him, but while I’m a guest here at Oakhill, I don’t think it would be very polite to have callers, do you?”
“Oh, I don’t think the Ramseys would mind.”
“Well, I would!” She was flushed now, faintly defensive, and would no longer meet his eyes. “And I’d much rather not have callers except the ones they invite.”
“They’re very hospitable people,” Sam told her, “and entertained a lot until the Old Gentleman became ill.”
“They’re the kindest, most wonderful people in the world,” Alison said eagerly, and added uncertainly, “Of course, it was Judy who invited me to stay. Mrs. Ramsey hasn’t said a word. Nor has Bix. I suppose with his grandfather so ill, it’s up to Bix to offer such invitations, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so, but I’m sure you needn’t worry about that,” Sam assured her firmly. “For whatever Judy wants will be whatever Bix wants, from now on. I feel quite sure of that.”
Alison studied him earnestly for a moment, wondering if she really had caught the faintest possible note of wistfulness in his voice.
“You are—well, pleased that Bix and Judy are getting married?” she asked hesitantly.
Sam’s brows drew together in a slight frown, and now it was his eyes that avoided hers.
“Since they’ve been in love with each other since they were kids, I think it’s perfect,” he told her.
She knew she should not go on probing, but for some obscure reason she would not face up to, she had to know the truth.
“When we first arrived,” she said, “I got the impression that you were in love with Judy.”
Sam looked up sharply, as though unpleasantly startled by the words. Then he looked away from her and said brusquely, “I thought so, too. But after Bix came back and I saw that she was as much in love with him as ever, I realized that she and I had been drawn together only by the fact that we were both lonely. That can make an awful fool of a guy, as you must surely know by now.”
“I can’t imagine that you’d ever be a fool about anything,” she told him impulsively.
He turned his eyes to meet hers, and now there was deep relief in them.
“Thanks, but I can be and have been an astronomical number of times, as I’m afraid you’ll discover if you stay here as long as I hope you will.”
“I’ll stay as long as they’ll let me,” she promised. “But I doubt very much that I’ll ever catch you making a fool of yourself. Somehow, I just can’t feel you’re the type.”
“Now you’re the one who’s being kind, and I like it,” he assured her. “I like it very much!”
She twinkled at him demurely.
“It was no trouble.” She laughed. “In fact, it might easily become habit-forming—in time, of course.”
“And time, let us hope, is what we have plenty of.”
For a long moment they stood looking at each other. In the golden afterglow of the sunset, with the chatter of the birds all about them, something shimmered between them; something gauzy-winged, iridescently beautiful, fragile as a cobweb. Each of them was aware of it, and for some absurd reason it made Alison suddenly unreasonably shy.
“Well,” she said a trifle hurriedly as though to prevent the cobweb from tightening about them, “I’d better go in and see if Mrs. Ramsey will let me make myself useful.”
Sam, understanding perfectly the reason for her escape and indeed grateful that she had destroyed the shimmering exquisiteness of the moment, nodded and said, “Don’t be too anxious about that. You’re a welcome guest, and they won’t expect you to be useful. You’re decorative enough without that.”
He rose from the big wicker chair and started for the steps, just as Judy came out of the house and hurriedly toward them.
“I thought I heard you two out here.” She beamed happily at them and added, “What about Mrs. Abbott, Sam? Are you driving Alison in to see her?”
Sam explained, and Judy’s happy smile broadened.
“Whoops! That’s wonderful.” She glowed, and added hastily, “I was hoping that Alison would be staying on for a long time, and Mother is, too. Bix thinks he and I should go on a honeymoon, and I didn’t want Mother to be alone while I was gone. It won’t be for more than a week, I’m sure. With the Old Gentleman so ill, I wouldn’t want to be away any longer.”
Sam smiled warmly at Alison. “See? I told you it would all straighten itself out if we just gave it time enough.”
Judy looked from one to the other, puzzled.
“I must have missed a part of this scene,” she admitted. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about. Should I?”
“Well, I see no reason why you shouldn’t, Young ’Un,” Sam told her. “Alison was telling me that she couldn’t stay on here forever, and I was trying to tell her how welcome she’d be, even though I realize it’s not my place to tell her that.”
“Why not?” Judy was frankly puzzled. “You’re part of Oakhill.”
“Such an invitation should come from Bix, Young ’Un,” Sam pointed out. “Or Miz’ Beth.”
Judy shrugged. “Oh, Bix will be delighted, too. I can speak for him and for Miz’ Beth, too.”
Sam raised his eyebrows at Alison and said, “I told you it would be like that, didn’t I?”
Mildly suspicious, Judy asked, “Like what?”
“Like whatever Judy wants, Bix wants, too.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Her head was up, and there was frostiness in her eyes. “Because whatever Bix wants is what Judy wants.”
Sam spoke to Alison, mildly amused. “Sounds like it might be a very happy marriage, don’t you think? No arguments!”
“Oh, there’ll be arguments, of course,” Judy said happily. “Probably a lot of them, because we are both human. But the arguments can be settled by compromise, not a brawl.”
She changed the subject abruptly and said, “Isn’t that just like me? I was sent out here for a purpose, and instead I let myself get all bogged down in chatter.”
“A not unusual happening,” Sam murmured, his eyes warm on her as Alison could not help but note with a slight sinking of her heart.
“You hush!” ordered Judy childishly, and grinned disarmingly at him. “I was sent out here to tell you that you’re invited to stay to dinner, and Mam’ Chloe won’t take ‘no’ for answer!”
“And knowing Mam’ Chloe as I do, I’d hesitate to refuse her,” Sam said. “I’ll be happy to stay for dinner.”
“It’s a celebration,” Judy announced happily.
“Of the engagement?” Alison asked.
“Golly, no!” Judy laughed. “A celebration of the departure of the invaders.” She added hastily, “We never considered you one of that mob, honey, not even from the first day!”
“Thanks, Judy,” Alison answered. “From the first day, I realized we were invaders, but there was nothing I could do about it.”
“Well, that’s all over and done with. Let’s go in and see what Mam’ Chloe has whipped up for dinner,” Judy said. “She said the freezers were overloaded with fancy vittles,’ and she wanted to get rid of them, so we’d have ‘fancy meals’ for dinner every night.”
She tucked her hand through Alison’s arm, her other hand through Sam’s, and drew them into the house with her.
Beth was coming down the stairs as they entered the big reception hall, and Judy cried out gaily, “Guess what, Miz’ Beth?”
Beth hesitated at the foot of the stairs and looked apprehensive.
“I’m afraid to,” she confessed. “Don’t tell me they’ve come back! That I couldn’t endure.”
“Golly, no,” Judy hastened to reassure her. “Mrs. Abbott is spending the summer in New England with Ellen, and Alison is going to stay on with us for a while. Isn’t that scrumptious?”
Alison said hastily, “If you don’t find the idea appealing, Mrs. Ramsey, don’t hesitate to say so, and I’ll clear out.”
“Don’t be a blessed idiot,” Beth protested. “My dear, I couldn’t be happier. It’s going to be wonderful to have you here for as long as you can stand us.”
Alison managed a small, slightly unsteady laugh.
“Be careful, Mrs. Ramsey! That might be a lifetime invitation!” she stammered, the mist of tears in her eyes, a small lump clogging her throat, making her voice unsteady.
Beth said gently, “My dear, nothing would please me more than to have you here for years and years. And I’m sure Bix and Sam will join me in that, won’t you, Sam?”
“Of course.” Sam’s tone was quite firm, and his eyes on Alison were warm.
“I think,” Alison’s voice threatened to break as two crystal tears slipped against her will from her eyes, “you are the very kindest people I’ve ever been lucky enough to know.”
Childishly uncomfortable at the emotion in Alison’s voice and the sight of tears, Judy said awkwardly, “Oh, hush up, honey! Be a good girl and stow the tears! We’re being kind to
ourselves
, not you! On account of because we like you, see?”
“She’s right, Alison,” Beth said heartily. “We do like you a lot, and we’re very happy to have you stay with us as long as you like.”
“Now what did I tell you?” Sam grinned at Alison, who was making a sincere effort to control the emotional outburst that threatened.
A gay whistle sounded from the back of the house, and Bix came toward them, his eyes finding and clinging to Judy even before he discovered the signs of tears on Alison’s flushed face.
“Hey, Alison, who’s been mean to you? Point him out to me and I’ll clobber him!” Bix offered handsomely.
Alison managed a laugh, while Judy explained and Bix beamed at Alison happily.
“Hey, are we in luck? The only staying guest we would accept, and she’s staying!”
“Aren’t we lucky? Suppose it had been Marise? Or even Tony and Mimi?” Judy shuddered at the thought.
Bix looked down at her with mock sternness.
“Worst of all, suppose it had been Roger!”
Judy grinned impishly at him.
“Oh, Roger’s quite a nice lad! Might make an excellent house guest,” she drawled.
“Over my dead body!” said Bix.
Judy slid her hand into his and leaned close to him.
“And just think, Alison was afraid you wouldn’t want her to stay,” she marveled.
Bix scowled at her and then at Alison.
“Oh, come on, Alison; you know better than that! Zounds, haven’t we been pals for a long time? You should know how very welcome you’ll always be at Oakhill!” he protested.
Alison looked around at them and blinked, even while her mouth curled in a faintly tremulous smile.
“You really
are
the kindest people in all the world.”
“One more tear out of you, my girl, and you’ll get a paddling,” Judy threatened her.
“Even if they are happy tears?”
“Even so. I hate people who weep because they’re happy. Keeps you so uncertain. You never know whether they’re weeping because they are miserably unhappy or on tiptoe with happiness!”
“I’d be the most ungrateful creature in the world if I wasn’t happy, after you’ve all been so kind and sweet!” Alison’s voice was stronger now, and the tremulous smile on her mouth deepened a little.
“Andy Abbott wants to call on Alison, but she wasn’t sure that she should allow it without consulting all of you first,” Sam said pleasantly.
Startled, Judy looked swiftly at him.
“Do we want him to?” she asked softly, so that her voice did not reach the others.
Pretending surprise, Sam’s brows went up slightly.
“Don’t we?” he drawled.
Judy gave a slight shrug.
“Do we?” she insisted.
Sam said brusquely, “If she wants him to, that’s all that’s important, isn’t it?”
Judy’s eyes held his, and her voice was gentle when she said quietly, “If
you
think so.”
For a long moment Sam’s eyes met hers. Then he looked away and his jaw clamped so that a small ridge of muscle leaped along it.
“I really can’t see that I have any right at all to object to any of her callers,” he stated flatly.
“But you’d like to, wouldn’t you?” Judy persisted softly.
Dark brick-red touched his jaw for a moment, barely visible beneath the sun-bronze, and his eyes flickered.
“Look, Young ’Un, suppose you tend to your own knitting and let me handle mine,” he suggested.
“Of course, Sammy dear,” she said. “It’s only that I am so happy I’d like everybody else in the world to be happy, too.”