Diamond Spur Read online

  “I guess so. Well, congratulations, you famous designer, you. Speaking of which,” Cherry continued slyly, “I want a skirt, too. And with black and green and pink embroidery, in a size eight.”

  “You and Jo will clash.”

  “No, we won’t. And I’m in no hurry for it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Cherry shook her head as Kate stood up. She looked again at Kate’s outfit. “What a winner. I can see you now, making national headlines.”

  “I can see me now, begging for a sale on the sidewalk, where I may be hawking these things if the buyers don’t like them,” Kate said. “Oh, Cherry, nobody else is doing Indian designs this year, everything’s prints and florals like back in the thirties and forties. I feel like the odd man out, and if I’m wrong, and my designs don’t go….”

  “They’ll go,” she was assured. “I promise they will. Jo, tell her they’ll sell.”

  “You bet they will,” Jo said as she took the five-dollar bill Cherry handed her and made change. “Now, go walk off those muffins so you don’t get fat like me.”

  “If that’s fat,” Kate remarked, studying the older woman’s ample but perfect figure, “I can hardly wait to get that way.”

  Jo chuckled. “Get out of here.”

  “I’ll go home and think about your skirt,” Kate assured her. “Bye!”

  She took time to show her car to Cherry, who enthused over it even though she had a Fiat that Gene had given her for her last birthday. I’ll be like that, Kate swore silently, as she waved good-bye to Cherry and got in under the wheel. If I ever have a lot of money, I’ll always be pleased for other people when they get something new, even if I can afford a Rolls. It was one of the things she admired in Cherry—the girl might be young, but she had a sweet personality.

  “I hope I survive this,” Kate told her mother as she came out of her room that night, dressed for dinner at the Donavans’. The dress she was wearing was one she’d designed and made herself, although she’d never expected that she’d have anywhere to wear it. It had been an experiment in sewing evening clothes. Kate knew that the style was simple and elegant, but she still had her rural ideas about what constituted high fashion, and they were a little overboard. This dress was just slightly too brassy, and since Kate had never been to a local society party of any kind, she had no idea what people wore to them. Her only contact with that kind of evening wear came from watching the fashion shows on television, and society around San Frio was a little too conservative for clothes like those.

  The dress she’d designed was black crepe. It fell from spaghetti straps that crisscrossed down the back and laced in front over a high-necked split bodice. It had a straight full-length skirt, with a side slit, adorned only with a thin line of silver sequins on each side of the split bodice where the laces went through. It was the kind of dress that made a man ache to unlace it, and even with its brassy design, it was a witchy dress.

  “That is gorgeous,” Mary said, as naive about high fashion as her daughter. “I’d forgotten that you made it.”

  “So had I. Cherry said to dress up. I hope this is what she had in mind. Goodness, I hope it’s not some of those city businessmen friends of Jason’s. I met a few of them, and I felt like a country hick around the wives. One of them actually asked if I kept pigs and yodeled.”

  “Don’t you worry, Jason won’t let them bother you,” Mary assured her. “You look lovely. Your lipstick is smeared just here.” She touched her own mouth, and Kate went to the dresser in her room and fixed it. She was wearing only a little more makeup than usual, but she felt strange with her hair cut and swept forward.

  “Have I got on too much makeup?” she asked worriedly.

  Mary grimaced. “Don’t ask me, honey, I never use any,” she said with an apologetic smile. “It looks pretty heavy to me, but I guess that’s the way everybody does it these days. You’ll do. And I like the haircut, although I bet Jason won’t.”

  “I wonder if Jason will go through the roof when I side with Gene,” she replied with a faint smile. “This dinner is supposed to be a surprise, but I don’t know if he’ll even let me in the house. Mama, I don’t know if I should go at all, after what he said about keeping his distance.”

  “Surely he doesn’t want to stop being friends, does he?” Mary asked gently. “And how will you find out if you don’t ask him? This is a good opportunity to see if he’s missing you as much as you’re missing him.”

  Kate grimaced. “I hear he’s raising hell every chance he gets. But that’s normal for Jason.”

  Mary touched the short, perky haircut. “You and Jason have had a very special relationship. I can’t believe he wants to throw that away completely.”

  “We’ll know after tonight, won’t we?” Kate looked worriedly at the clock. “I’d better go, or I’ll be late. Wish me luck.”

  “Honey, nobody who looks as good as you do will need any. Have a good time.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She picked up the filmy shawl she’d made painstakingly to go with the dress—black with sequins all over it and fringe down the back.

  “You look delightful,” Mary sighed. “And so sophisticated.”

  Kate grinned. “It’s still just me inside. I hope Jason doesn’t mind having me going over there,” she added worriedly.

  “He won’t. Go on, now!”

  Kate did, but as she drove the car along the sparsely traveled road, her sense of foreboding grew. And the closer she got to the Donavan place, the worse she felt. Cherry didn’t know Jason like she did. When he said no, he meant it. She was deliberately going against his wishes, and if her presence upset him, all her good intentions wouldn’t stop him from speaking his mind in front of everybody.

  There were two other cars at the house. One was a Lincoln and the other was a bright red foreign car of some kind with the top down. Kate parked her little Tempo behind the Lincoln and got out slowly. She felt overdressed and under-confident and unbearably nervous. She shouldn’t have come.

  She went up the steps, noticing as she did that her shoes were terribly worn and not at all the kind she should be wearing with a dress this sophisticated. They were just little black vinyl slings, scuffed badly on one toe and the opposite heel, and the sole was faintly loose. Well, maybe the skirt was long enough that no one would notice, and thank God it wasn’t winter, because the only coat she owned was moth-eaten and a hideous color. Clothes were going to be her next major purchase.

  She rang the bell. Sheila came to answer it, and when she saw Kate, she darted a glance over her shoulder worriedly and came out on the porch.

  “Darlin’, you look lovely,” she said quietly. “But nobody’s dressed up, and Cherry hasn’t had the nerve to tell Jason you’re coming.”

  “I guess I’d better go back home….” Kate faltered. She was coloring, and she felt sick with embarrassment.

  “Kate!” Cherry came running up in a blue silk pantsuit. “Come on in, what are you standing out here for? Sheila, something’s boiling over on the stove,” she added to divert the worried housekeeper. “Kate, that’s beautiful,” she said, looking over Kate’s dress.

  “You said to dress up….”

  “Oh, and I meant to, but everybody came in casual clothes, so I rushed upstairs and changed. But you look fine, honest you do. Is that makeup new?” she added, her eyes darting nervously around as she led Kate into the dining room.

  Jason was sitting at the head of the elegant cherry wood table, bending toward a ravishing blonde in a low, white knit blouse. He was wearing a white silk shirt with a tan jacket and matching tie, looking as elegant as the room itself. Gene was on Jason’s other side, and opposite each other were two elderly men in leisure suits and one older woman in a red and black pantsuit. They all looked up as Kate froze in the doorway, suddenly feeling like a painted Saturday night special.

  Gene, God bless him, stood up. “You look lovely, Kathryn,” he said, inviting her into the chair next to his. “
Let me introduce you to our guests,” he added, ignoring Jason’s furious eyes. Kate moved forward on wobbly legs and prayed that she wouldn’t pass out.

  The blood was beating in her ears so hard that she didn’t even hear the names. The older woman gave her a polite smile and instantly dismissed her. The younger woman simply stared at her blankly, as if she didn’t exist. The men nodded, equally polite, and Cherry slid into the seat next to hers and gripped her hand, hard, under the table to smile at her apologetically.

  Cherry’s fingers were freezing cold and trembling. Kate knew that this wasn’t anything like what Cherry had planned, but her support didn’t help a lot. Jason was angry.

  “Good evening, Miss Whittman,” he said in his most cutting tone, and he smiled, but it wasn’t a smile she’d ever seen directed at her until now. “Excuse me, but I don’t remember inviting you over here tonight.”

  Kate could have choked to death on her pride. She managed not to burst into tears, but it took every ounce of willpower she had.

  “I invited her,” Cherry spoke up. Kate saw that she was afraid of Jason, but regret at the pain she was causing her guest overcame it. “I didn’t realize you’d arranged to have a business meeting tonight. By the time I did, it was too late to tell Kate not to come. It’s my fault, not hers.”

  “Kate is always welcome,” Gene said, glaring at his brother. “She’s been like family for years.”

  “And she’s going to be a very famous designer,” Cherry seconded, gaining strength from her husband’s support.

  “You designed that, I suppose?” the ravishing blond mused, studying Kate’s outfit in a way that spoke volumes. “Well, honey, it’s not bad, but I’d never want to wear something that brassy in public. I mean, it’s the kind of thing a hooker would wear.”

  Just as Kate was about to respond with an unwise rebuttal, the gray-haired woman across from her turned in her seat and asked, a vacant smile at her lips, “Is that comment from the horse’s mouth, Daphne?”

  The blonde’s eyes popped. “I beg your pardon?!”

  “Geraldine!” one of the older men harumphed.

  The gray-haired woman lifted her chin pugnaciously. “Shut up, Harold,” she drawled. “If Daphne can be rude, so can I.” She looked at Kate. “I think your dress is lovely.”

  Kate could have hugged her. But it was taking too much effort just to keep from crying. She managed a smile, with tears brimming in her eyes before she lowered them.

  Jason looked at Kate with an expression that caused Cherry to avert her own eyes. This was all her fault. She hadn’t meant to hurt Kate.

  “Here it is,” Sheila said, entering the room with a huge roast on a platter. “This came from one of the biggest steers we ever raised on the Diamond Spur. And one of the meanest.” She grinned. “I had the pleasure of helping cut him up after he chased me up a tree.”

  She glanced at Kate as she spoke, and the smile faded. She may have wanted to say something, but the glitter she saw in Jason’s eyes made her back off. Sheila put the platter down and went back for the vegetables.

  Conversation began again over the delicately roasted meat. But Kate didn’t taste anything. She couldn’t look at Jason at all, and she was aching to get up and run out the door. But that wouldn’t do. Kate couldn’t behave in such a cowardly fashion, not in front of Jason.

  She thought that if she lived to be a hundred, she’d hate him every single year for the rest of her life. He had deliberately insulted her, embarrassed her in front of his guests. He wanted her to see the difference between her lifestyle and his, and he’d shown her graphically. Kate wanted no part of people like this, and no part of a man who could be that cruel to her.

  Cherry and Gene tried to draw Kate into the conversation going on around her, but she sat quietly and stiff-backed, finishing the food on her plate. She wouldn’t speak, and every time Jason looked at her, she felt sick.

  Kate couldn’t know the self-contempt that was making him act this way. She couldn’t feel his pain at the sight of her after weeks of loneliness and aching desire. And he couldn’t let her know. He couldn’t admit to the weakness of caring about her. He searched her sad, wan little face with eyes that were terrible to look into, glittering with pain at the hurt he’d caused her. Damn Cherry! Damn her for putting Kate in a position like this, for not telling her that that black dress was like a clown suit in such sophisticated company, that she was wearing the wrong makeup and too much of it. That she was overdressed and oversequined, and that she looked just like the little unworldly country girl she was.

  “Kate, I’m sorry,” Cherry said under her breath.

  “So am I,” Gene said, and loud enough for Jason to hear him. He glared at his brother. “Cherry thought if Kate backed us up, you wouldn’t raise hell about me leaving for that art exhibit while you’re in Australia. We didn’t know you were going to cut Kate up this way, of course. We thought you were friends.” He put down his napkin. “I’m going to the exhibit, Jason, and to hell with your opinion.”

  “Good for you,” Kate said on a choked smile. She moved her chair away from the table and stood up on shaky legs. “It’s about time you showed him that he isn’t the only man in the house. And it’s okay, Cherry. Your heart was in the right place.”

  Kate touched the younger girl’s shoulder lightly. As she lifted her eyes and looked straight across at Geraldine she managed a smile. “I don’t know who you are,” she said gently, “but you’ve got breeding. Much more than your companion,” she added, glaring at the woman named Daphne. “Money doesn’t buy manners, even if it does buy expensive sports cars and the best clothes.”

  “You’re insolent for a working girl,” Daphne said, tossing back her blonde hair.

  “And you’re cruel,” Kate replied with quiet sincerity. “I’m sorry for you because people have to be very unhappy to want to hurt other people.”

  Daphne actually blushed, and she didn’t say another word.

  Jason was glaring at her from the head of the table, but he didn’t speak. Kate turned away with the remainder of her dignity and left the room. Her heart was beating so loudly that she expected everyone to hear it, but she managed to get out of the room before the tears started running helplessly down her cheeks.

  She almost tripped over her own feet in her haste to get out of the house. It was just past sunset. The reddish glow on the horizon was rapidly giving way to night, and crickets were singing and cattle lowing in the distance.

  But Kate heard nothing over the beating of her own heart. If only she’d listened to her instincts, this might never have happened. She might have been spared the ordeal.

  She’d barely made it to the car when she heard quick, heavy footsteps behind her. Seconds later, her wrist was caught and she was swung around to a sudden stop by a coldly furious Jason.

  “Let me go,” she wept, struggling with the steely hand that had her firmly, but not painfully, by the wrist. “Damn you, Jason Donavan, I hope I die before I ever have to look at you again!”

  He caught her other wrist, too, and pushed her back against the door of the Tempo, pinning her with the threat of his body. “Stand still,” he said curtly, using the tone that made his cowboys jump even though he never raised his voice. “You’re not getting in that car until you calm down.”

  She could hardly breathe, and her eyes were wet. Mascara was running down her cheeks with tears, and her throat felt as if she’d swallowed a pincushion. “It was Cherry’s idea,” she said harshly. “I had no idea that I was walking into the Spanish Inquisition, or that I was going to have you bite my head off and humiliate me in front of your latest conquest!”

  He scowled down at her. “What conquest?”

  “That silky-eyed blonde,” she wept. “And I wish you joy of her, Jason, she’s just your style; a selfish little money-hungry man-eater who’s good in bed and doesn’t give a hang about anything except herself! She’s even blonde, like that Melody woman…!”

  He put a tight rein o
n his temper, infuriated by the accusation. He’d meant to tell Kate that the blonde, whom he disliked anyway, was married to one of those very rich elderly gentlemen at the table. And that the discussion they’d been having was strictly business. But he’d be damned if he’d tell her now. It would serve no purpose, anyway. It was cutting him to pieces not to give in and pull her into his arms. The past three weeks had proved to him that she could become his Achilles’ heel; but that was something he couldn’t allow to develop.

  Jason let her go abruptly and moved away to light a cigarette with steady hands. “I like blondes, honey,” he said with deliberate cruelty, smiling through a cloud of smoke. “And you’d better get used to the idea that women are a permissible part of my life. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

  She swallowed convulsively. Tears blurred her vision, but that was just as well. She didn’t want him to see the pain in her face. She took deep breaths. “No. You don’t,” she said with the last shreds of her pride. “I’m sorry I spoiled your business dinner and made an utter fool of myself. Cherry asked me to come—I thought it had been long enough that you…you wouldn’t mind having me around just for a meal.” Her voice broke and she turned away.

  Jason felt himself weakening, and that was the one thing he didn’t dare let happen. He steeled himself not to give in.

  “Now you know that I do mind,” he said, forcing carelessness into his voice. “I told you how it was going to be.”

  She reached for the door handle without looking back at him. “So you did.” She opened it, watching the light come on in the headliner. “I should have paid attention.”

  “Don’t come back here again, Kate,” he said quietly. “It gives me no pleasure to hurt you.”

  “We were friends,” she whispered. “I hate being a stranger to you.”

  He drew in a slow, steadying breath. “Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” he ground out. She was cutting the ground out from under him with her unexpected vulnerability. He’d never heard her cry until tonight. It had taken his last ounce of willpower to keep from going across the table after her inside, when he saw the tears gleaming in those soft, trusting green eyes. Hurting Kate was unbearable. But he had to. He couldn’t give in to her…!