City Girl (10 page)

"Well, now," he drawled after they had been introduced, "this is a real nice surprise. The scenery around here needed some improving." He pinched Lupe mischievously on the cheek, and she pretended to be insulted. "What d'ya think, boss? Did they have teachers like this in your day? Sure didn't in mine or I'd of stayed in school longer."

It was blatant flattery delivered with a disarming smile, but nothing in his manner warned Crystal that she should be overly worried about this one. Such furtatiousness did not bother her half as much as the way Garrett regarded the two of them. Blue, cold eyes warned her that she was being tested while her antagonist was simply being tolerated.

Crystal's cheeks flushed pink, less with embarrassment than with anger. Was she to be tested at every turn? Did he think she would be bowled over with such obvious flattery? She turned a tight smile on the dirty cowboy. "Thank you, Mr. Benson, but fortunately a teacher's appearance has little to do with her competence. I hope to be appreciated around here for my ability."

Rick Benson grinned and nodded a light bow, thoroughly unabashed. Crystal threw Garrett a stern, challenging glare, but if it penetrated, he did not show it.

"Rick, I think you came after coffee," Garrett reminded, prodding the lanky cowboy into reluctant action. He quickly took a mug offered by Lupe and poured himself a cup from the pot on the stove, leaning against the counter to drink it from a safe distance.

"Lupe, have you taken care of Miss Gentry?" Dean asked offhandedly.

"What kind of a question is that?" snapped Lupe with mock defensiveness. "Of course I took care of her. Gloria is unpacking for her now. She's right at home, eh, Crystal?" She reached over to pat Crystal's hands.

"Yes, very much so," Crystal agreed. "You have a lovely home, really beautiful. And my room is—"

A convenient attack of coughing from Lupe broke off her words, and Crystal stared sharply in the big woman's direction. Not even Garrett had been fooled by that transparent attempt to silence Crystal. She could see it in the stern blue gaze he settled first on her and then on Lupe.

"What about your room?" he asked flatly.

Crystal shrugged, not knowing what to say or why Lupe had wanted to silence her.

"Nothing, just that it's very lovely and most comfortable," she said meekly; then, when an awkward silence followed, she went on nervously, "I can see why you call it the Rose Room. The name is certainly… suitable," she finished lamely, her voice trailing off into stunned silence.

Garrett had whirled on Lupe, his fists clenched at his sides, blue eyes blazing white-hot anger. Crystal could see the long, hard length of his body trembling with fury.

"The Rose Room?" The quiet words possessed an ominous, explosive quality. Crystal watched the flexing muscles around his jawline, and could only be thankful that such anger was not directed toward her personally.

She looked to Lupe with both pity and confusion, wondering frantically what she could have possibly said that had elicited such an explosive reaction. She felt somehow responsible, but did not understand why or how.

Lupe's wide shoulders raised and dropped in a heavy shrug. "I have put her in the Rose Room," she said evenly. "It will serve her well."

"I suppose it was the best you could do, since I gave you no warning," he clipped sarcastically.

She answered him with a steady, implacable stare, then turned her back on him and began to putter around the sink.

His broad shoulders stiffened, his chest heaved, but a moment later he turned to Crystal, having crested the tide of his anger. "I'm sure," he said tightly, "that you will be very comfortable, but if you are not, please feel free to ask for another room." Without waiting for a reply, he spun and strode to the door. "Rick!" he barked, and shoved the door across its metal track.

The lanky wrangler glanced at Crystal, then at his boss. With an unhurried deliberateness he crossed over to the open door, paused to wink at Crystal, then slipped through.

Tension still thick in the room, Garrett turned back to Lupe. "I thought I'd better warn you early," he growled. "We're having company for dinner. There is a cattle buyer and some of his friends flying down from Fort Worth. Plan for six and myself. Nine sharp, and we'll dine in the courtyard." He shot Crystal a sharp glance, as if trying to decide something about her, before stepping through the door and sliding it closed with a bang.

"Whew!" Crystal could not hold back the exclamation as his back receded through the archway. She looked to the Mexican woman by the sink and was amazed to find her jiggling spasmodically with stifled laughter.

"Ha-ha-ha, hee-hee!"

Crystal watched openmouthed as the laughter broke loose and shook her new acquaintance like a bowl full of gelatin.

"Big man! Hee-hee. Big, tough boss!" Tears were working tracks down the plump face, but Crystal could not understand for the life of her what was happening here. "I beat him!" Lupe boasted, thumping herself triumphantly on the chest. "And he knows it, too. The only way he could win was to throw you out of that room, but he didn't!"

Crystal gasped, still totally confused but liking the sound of things less than ever. "Would you mind telling me what this is all about?" she asked as reasonably as she could manage.

Lupe calmed down a bit and wagged a finger at her. "It is about burying the past once and for all," she said with a knowing nod. "It is about a promise I made myself two years ago. It is about what is best!"

Crystal waited impatiently as Lupe pulled a stout stool up to the counter and heaved her great weight upon it.

"That room, the Rose Room—
your
room. It belonged to her."

"Her?" So another woman had lived in that room.

Lupe seemed not to notice her question, but hurried on intently. "Why shouldn't it be your room?" she asked almost defensively. "The dead do not need rooms."

His wife! That had been her room! Crystal almost groaned aloud. What was Lupe trying to do, make him bate her? Obviously he did not want anyone in there. But Lupe did not pause in her narrative for Crystal to point that out.

"It was her room, sure. But she cannot use it now, and as long as it is her room, she will haunt him."

"After she died, he closed it up, left it exactly as she had left it." She shook her braid-haloed head sadly. "I told him it must be opened, but he ignored me."

"One day I went in there, you know, just to tidy up and dust away the cobwebs. He saw me coming out. Big explosion!" She puffed her cheeks and blew out. "But I was determined that her ghost should be exorcised from that room!"

Crystal's head dropped to her hands. She was so terribly tired. Why did she have to become embroiled in this thing?

If Lupe noticed her dismay, she ignored it and hurried on. "One step at a time," she pronounced sagely. "First, I went in there one time when he was gone and gathered up her things. Petie took them to town and gave them away." She dabbed at the edge of her eye with the corner of a tea towel. "He was very angry, but I was right, and he knew it. Just like I am right this time, and he knows it!"

"But if it was her room…" Crystal interjected, only to have her objection wiped away with the sweep of one flabby hand.

"This is the best thing," Lupe stated unequivocally. "You will see. Besides," she shrugged, "it's not as important as it sounds. He will only be angry for a short while, then everything will be as it should be at last." Crystal was not so certain. She had a sinking feeling that her being in that room would only create misunderstanding and hostility. She could not know how right she was until much later. If she had known what confusion would stem from her presence in that room, it probably wouldn't have made much difference. As it was, she thought it would be useless to argue with the woman, and merely resigned herself to being in an awkward situation for a while. She would later change that adjective from "awkward" to "impossible."

Crystal jerked awake. Had someone knocked at her door, or had she been dreaming? Another flurry of sharp raps confirmed that someone was definitely in the hallway outside her door.

"Coming," she called groggily, and moved to the edge of the bed. Sitting there like that, with her feet barely touching the floor, she felt like a child again.

Another impatient cascade of knocks sent her scurrying toward the door, her thin cotton bathrobe held tightly around her slender body.

She opened the door a crack and peered out. A young Mexican girl, darkly pretty and petite, stared back. She appeared perhaps three or four years younger than Crystal herself. Her blue-black hair hung in a long fist-thick braid down her back, halting at the waistband of her jeans.

"Hi! You must be Gloria," surmised Crystal cheerfully, opening the door wider. "I'm Crystal Gentry. Pleased to meet you." She stuck out her hand.

"
Si
, I am Gloria," was the flip, surly reply. "Supper in one hour." She turned and walked swiftly away, ignoring the friendly hand waiting outstretched.

Crystal slowly lowered her arm, frowning with disappointment and confusion. She had been looking for-ward to a friendly reception, but the girl had been curt and slightly hostile. Crystal backed into the room and closed the door.

Why? Was the girl simply unfriendly by nature, or had she singled out Crystal for such inhospitable behavior?

That seemed unlikely. There could be no reason for it, unless… Crystal looked around the room. Was it possible the girl resented her being here? That alone seemed an unsuitable explanation. It might have to do with the fact that Gloria had been made to unpack for her.

Yes, that seemed more reasonable. Immediately Crystal resolved to make it plain to Gloria that she wanted no special treatment. She did not need or expect to be waited on. Beyond that, if the girl did not want to be her friend, there was really nothing she could do about it.

She had hoped to get a clue from Gloria what she would be expected to wear at dinner tonight. Now she would just have to use her own best judgment.

Everyone around here but Lupe seemed to wear blue jeans, and that in itself presented a problem. Aunt Judith had never approved of women wearing pants of any kind, but especially not jeans.

"Field clothes!" she had called them the first time Crystal brought a pair home, and her opinion had never wavered. Consequently, Crystal had not worn them like the other girls. It just was not important enough to risk having words with her aunt. There were now no jeans included in the few pairs of pants she did own.

Reluctantly Crystal pulled several things from the spacious walk-in closet and looked them over. Nothing seemed suitable. What good were all these business suits and tailored blouses out here? She needed something casual but dressy enough to make a good first impression on her dinner companions. She did not want to come off like a snooty city girl, but she couldn't go out there in her bathrobe, either.

Her eye lighted upon a mint-green floor-length jumper she had bought earlier in the season. It was crisp and not particularly dressy, with a deep square neckline and a fitted bodice attached to a softly gathered skirt which was slit up the side but buttoned with big white flat buttons. It was sleeveless, but if she wore a soft white blouse beneath it, it might do, and she also had a pair of neat white sandals that would look just fine with it. At least it was not a tailored business suit.