She buried her face in the sheet to cry, inhaling the faint scent of her perfume and his after-shave. She gave a little cry and thrust the sheet away from her body as if it were his hands reaching for her. She balled it up and flung it toward the door and then ripped the bottom sheet from the bed. She wanted to start forgetting now. To start at this moment get- ting over him. She had gotten over Barry—she wouldn’t want to go out with Barry if he called tonight. Someday, she would be that way with Cal.
Only she knew it wouldn’t be that easy. She had never loved the way she loved this man. In so many ways, he was very special. In so many ways, he was a good man. She went back to the bed to pull off the pillow slips and toss them onto the pile of laundry.
Was she making a mistake? Could she live with him when she couldn’t rely on him to confide in her? She shook her head. At the same time, could she live without him? And right now, that came back to the same negative answer.
“Get over him,” she whispered. “Go ahead, heart. For- get how marvelous he is or how sexy he is or what fun we’ve had together.” She put her head in her hands to cry.
An hour later, she heard the dinner bell. She longed to tell them she didn’t feel well, which was the truth. She didn’t want to go downstairs and face Cal or to be studied by the boys and Gladys.
She hurried to the mirror. Her eyes were red, her nose equally red and her face pale. She looked dreadful, but she knew she had to put in an appearance or her nephews would be in her room to try to find out what was wrong. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped into the hall.
Instantly, her palms became sweaty. What would it be like to sit though dinner with him? She suddenly felt nervous.
Josh came barreling out of the kitchen, almost plowing into her. She caught his shoulders as he threw up his hands.
“Wow. ’scuse me, Juliana. Dinner’s ready. I was com- ing to get you.” He squinted at her. “Have you been crying?”
“I’m fine. Let’s go eat.” She suspected the dinner hour was going to be an even worse experience than she had ex- pected.
“Cal said he had to go back to the office. He’s gone,” Josh said.
Relief swamped her. They wouldn’t have to go through a strained meal trying to make polite conversation. Soon enough the boys would realize the rift and start asking questions, and when they did, she’d better be ready to give them some answers.
As she approached the table, Gladys glanced at her, frowned and looked away. Chris studied her openly.
“Juliana, you’ve been crying,” the boy said. “Did you and Cal have a fight?”
Quin’s head came up and his eyes grew wide. She wished she had gotten Chris alone before dinner and talked to him.
“We’ll work things out,” she said, hoping Chris stopped his questions. She glanced at Quin who was frowning and staring at her.
“Is Cal going to move back to his house?” he asked sol- emnly.
“No, he’s not,” she replied, knowing she couldn’t be sure what he would do. “He’s gone down to the office and he’ll be home in a while,” she said, wondering if he would move away.
* * *
Cal turned up the graveled driveway to his house. Inside, he strode through his dark house, switching on lights.
He missed Juliana. He was in love with her, wanted her at his side. Cal clenched his fists. All his life, Webb had caused him trouble, and he wondered if it would ever stop. His father had always given Webb preferential treatment. In school, Webb had been the fair-haired hero, the football star, the track star while Cal had been reliable, making ex- cellent grades, going out for baseball, but never the star Webb had been.
When Webb’s troubles started in junior high, their fa- ther had always bought Webb’s way out of it. Webb was a juvenile, had good grades and was a football star, and his father had been able to get the local police to look the other way or to get Webb off with a reprimand.
After their parents had lost their savings and his father had lost his job in the oil bust, the trouble deepened. Webb was out of college by then and no longer underage, and Harris Duncan no longer had money to bail his son out of predicaments. The first felony, Webb was released on pro- bation. The second, he went to prison for three years. When he was released, he went right back to his old ways. Gam- bling, spending too much money, stealing.
Swearing, Cal moved through his house. He had come here hoping to feel a sense of peaceful solitude, the way he used to. Instead, the empty house was lonely. There weren’t any boys racing through the rooms or Stoddard’s quiet voice or the smells of Gladys’s cooking. Most of all, Juliana wasn’t here.
The image of Juliana, gazing up at him, her pale hands moving over his body, made Cal draw a deep, painful breath. He loved her. More than Andrea. More than he would have believed possible. He should have told Juliana about Webb, yet he needed the money desperately and this same thing would have happened then.
He had misjudged her. He had thought she would accept the truth about Webb, that it wouldn’t become a driving wedge between them that would kill the special love they had found. Mentally, he heard her soft laughter, her moans in moments of passion. Clenching his fists, Cal swore again.
This was one lady he couldn’t stop loving. He paced the house and finally locked up and climbed back into his
