Diamond Spur (17 page)

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Authors: Diana Palmer

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BOOK: Diamond Spur
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in this city—and they went up to the offices.

It was a lot like the company back home, except that everyone dressed to the hilt. One

woman particularly

caught Kate's eye—a black woman with elegant carriage, and the look of royalty.

"Who is she?" Kate asked Roberta. "She's beautiful."

The black woman heard her and turned, her chin at an arrogant angle.

"I'm sorry," Kate flushed. "But you carry yourself so well... most people slouch.''

"I never slouch," the woman said with a faint Southern accent. She looked Kate up and down, and she didn't smile. "That's very nice," she said. "You designed it?" "Yes." "You must be the Texas girl." "Not girl. Designer," Roberta said shortly. She glared at the woman, who averted her eyes and

went back to work. "Don't mind Clarisse," she told Kate. "She thinks she's God's sister."

Kate wasn't listening. She was watching the woman's back stiffen, even though she didn't reply or even turn her head. There was pain in that exquisite carriage, and more than a little fear. Odd, when the woman was so lovely.

"This is Bates. She's our head designer," Roberta indicated a heavyset woman of fifty or so with black hair, snapping eyes, and a ready smile. "And these are the other girls." She introduced at least six more women, whose names went right past Kate. "And Clarisse LeBon, you met," Roberta added, indicating the black woman who was standing apart from the others, putting trim on a dress that graced a fitting form.

Kate went through the motions. She talked to the women and made modest noises when they spoke favorably about her own designs. She toured the office and looked at their own sketches and sample garments for the coming shows. It was no surprise at all to discover that Clarisse was the house model.

"She doubles as receptionist and secretary during slow seasons," Roberta told her, glaring toward the black woman. "If she'd unbend a little, she might go further. I hear she has design ambitions of her own, but she'll never get a chance with her nose in the air. She's been here three months and none of us like her."

"She's the only black woman in this office," Kate said gently. "Didn't it ever occur to you that she might feel uncomfortable?"

Roberta eyed her curiously. "You're from Texas, aren't you?"

"Of course. But that doesn't make me a bigot," Kate returned.

Robert shook her head. "Well, well. Miss enigma."

"I don't know what that means," Kate replied. "But I like people."

"What a story I'm going to get about you," the shorter woman mused. "Okay. Let's go see about that dress I promised to loan you. There's a cocktail party tonight that I want to take you to."

"I don't drink." Kate winced.

Roberta's eyes grew a size larger for a second. "Well, don't worry," she said. "You can

imbibe club soda if you'd like."

The dress they found for Kate was a rainbow of colors, muted and soft, on sheerest chiffon

with an underlay of satin. It had a fitted bodice and spaghetti straps, a cinched waist and a skirt

that had to have at least six yards of fabric in it. It was the most beautiful thing Kate had ever

seen, and it was almost a perfect fit, except for the waist.

"I thought you were a perfect ten." Roberta frowned when the zipper wouldn't close.

"I am." Kate sighed. "Well," she hedged, "I've put on a little weight lately. Too many

sundaes and milkshakes," she added, neglecting to mention her possible pregnancy that was

more than likely the real reason.

"We can let it out."

"Who made this beautiful thing?" Kate asked gently.
"I did."

Clarisse stared at Kate without smiling, but there was

something in that high-cheekboned face. Pride. Satisfaction.

"It's like a butterfly," Kate told her, smiling despite the

lack of response. "I feel frumpy just wearing it. It needs a

face like yours to set it off, not a plain one like mine."

Clarisse's face changed. It was almost imperceptible, but Kate caught it. "You aren't plain," the

other woman said. "Your face has character. You have good bones, and you carry yourself well.

No. You carry the dress off much better than I would have."

Roberta went off to get Bates to do the hem, which was a fraction of an inch too long. Kate

stared at Clarisse.

"You were supposed to have worn this, weren't you?" Kate asked. "I won't go...!"

"You will," Clarisse shot back. "I don't mind loaning it to you. I have another for myself. A

different style with a similar fabric." "I hate cocktail parties anyway," Kate muttered softly. "I don't drink and I think I'm pregnant..." She'd blurted it out. Now she started, her breath catching in her throat as she wondered if it had been wise to trust that secret to a woman who didn't like her. But Clarisse only smiled. And it was a real smile. "I won't tell them," she said quietly. "You

aren't married." Kate shook her head. She looked down at the floor, remembering the sight of

Jason's back as he walked out of her life. "He didn't want commitment, you see." "But you

love him." Kate looked up, her eyes blazing with it. "Oh, God, yes," she whispered huskily. "And I want this baby. I've never wanted anything so much, not even a career." "Why not have both?" Clarisse asked. She bent to the hem, ignoring the shocked looks on Roberta's and Bates's faces. "Here, I can do it," she volunteered. "May I have the pins, please?"

It wasn't until later, when they were on the way to the cocktail party in a cab, that Roberta mentioned that incident.

"I could have fainted when I saw Clarisse pinning up that hem. She'd raised hell about your wearing the dress in the first place. And now she seems to like you, when she hates the rest of us. What did you do to her?"

"I told her a secret," Kate said, and glanced out the window at the beautiful city lights. "And it's still a secret," she added with a wicked grin.

Kate got through the party by the skin of her teeth because the nausea and fatigue were almost unbearable in combination. She met Roberta's brother, Curt—the Curt whose designs were internationally known—and had time for another longer and interesting chat with Clarisse, with whom she formed an unexpected friendship. And it hadn't been at all bad. Kate found that people accepted her just as she was. And they were kind enough to explain the things they discussed that were foreign to Kate's lifestyle. It wasn't at all as Jason had led her to believe. She learned, in fact, that people were people, regardless of the geography.

By the time she and Roberta got back to her hotel room, she felt as if she'd had a taste of another world, and not at all an unpleasant world. And with that, Kate fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Eleven

Manhattan was fascinating. Kate spent the next day after the interview with Roberta, learning the

shops and visiting with some of the marketing people. The hectic pace was a little rough, but it

had kept her mind from brooding over Jason and her possible pregnancy at least.

Despite the fact that it was Saturday, Roberta seemed to know where to find everybody. They gave Kate the grand tour, and she learned rapidly that New Yorkers weren't the cold people that they were labeled. They were warm and friendly up close, and Kate couldn't remember a place that had made her feel more welcome.

But the day was a long one, and her head was swimming with facts and figures when they got back to the hotel. Roberta invited her to supper with her and her famous brother, but Kate only wanted sleep.

"Your brother is a character," Kate remarked with a smile as they parted company in the lobby. "He likes you, too." Roberta grinned. "He was fascinated with the way you made friends with our Clarisse. So was I," she added. "She's not a friendly person." "She's a scared, bitter, disillusioned person, though," Kate said gently. "And she's had a hard time of it. If people meet her halfway, she's very nice. You'll all find that out eventually." "Maybe we'd better give her a second look." Roberta grinned. "Well, I've got all my photos

and enough for ten interviews. I hope we'll see each other again after I put you on that plane to San Antonio tomorrow. It's been an experience." "I hope we do, too. I've enjoyed it," Kate said, and meant it. "Roberta, those merchandise mart shows, will I go to them, too?" "We've scheduled you for Dallas and Atlanta, for certain," she was told. "Think you'll feel up to it, after the flurry of getting ready for the markets?"

"I hope so," Kate replied.

"It would really be to your advantage to go, Kate," Roberta said gently. "Even if you have to push yourself. I can introduce you to the media in both places, and you'll have southern and southwestern coverage. That will do us a lot of good in our regional sales, and I think your biggest market will be in those areas."

"If it makes that much difference, then certainly I'll go," Kate said.

"Good. I'll make the arrangements. Mr. Rogers can put you on the right planes, and we'll have marketing people meet you." She smiled. "Now get some rest, and don't worry about tomorrow. I won't send you to Hawaii or Italy, I promise. How are you feeling, by the way? Tummy better?"

"Some," Kate said. "But I think I'm just tired."

"As much time as you've put in, no wonder," Roberta said. "You get some sleep. I'll leave a

wake-up call for you at the desk, and I'll be here to pick you up at eight sharp. Okay?"

Kate smiled. "Okay."

She waved Roberta off and went upstairs, dragging a little. She didn't like to think about

going home because she was surely going to have to see a doctor. She wondered if Jason had said

when he was coming home. Not that it mattered. She didn't know how she was going to cope,

but she had to make a decision soon as to whether or not to tell him about the baby. If there was

a baby, she corrected. But her symptoms were pretty concrete. And a baby was a hard thing to hide

in a small community. If she decided not to tell him, she'd have to go somewhere else. That would

be easier for her anyway, if her designs sold. Everything hinged on that. Kate had to support the

baby. If the designs didn't market well, she was back to sewing on the line and textiles were a

depressed industry. There might not be a job at some other plant.

She put on her gown and went to bed, not even calling Mary. She was too tired. Besides, she'd

be going home to Texas in the morning.

The flight back was only a little easier than the flight to New York. Kate felt queasy the whole way, and this time the stewardess had her eye on a rich businessman a couple of seats behind Kate and spent the entire flight catering to his needs. Kate managed to get down a cup of coffee, but she couldn't eat anything.

Once on the ground in San Antonio, her mother's face in the waiting area was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. She rushed toward her, feeling the ceiling move toward her. Before she could reach her mother's arms, she fainted dead away on the terminal floor under a painting of a Texas windmill.

She came to lying on a couch in an office. Mary was hovering worriedly and there was a damp paper towel over Kate's fevered forehead.

"Goodness," she exclaimed, sitting up. "I can't imagine how that happened."

Mary tried to smile, but she looked pale herself, and worried. "Poor baby," she said, sighing. "Poor, poor baby."

"I'm all right," Kate said soothingly. "I just fainted, that's all. Where am I?"

"In the security office," she was told. "Can you walk, darling?"

"Of course." She stood up, feeling oddly fit. She even smiled. "Okay. Let's go wait for my luggage and then we can go home. I've got so much to tell you."

The security man came in the door as they were going out, and Mary thanked him and helped Kate out into the hall. The baggage was just shooting out onto the round claim ring, and Kate found her case immediately.

"No," Mary said, when Kate would have picked it up. "Don't you dare, in your condition."

Kate gaped at her mother.

Mary touched her daughter's hair. "Oh, baby, I'd never have let you go if I'd even
suspected...."

"How do you know, when I don't even know for sure?" Kate asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Darling, you never faint," Mary said gently. "Or go white as a sheet. Your skirt is unbuttoned because your waistline is thicker, and you haven't had your period. I was pregnant with you. I remember the symptoms." "I guess I thought I was going to get away with pretending it hadn't happened," Kate said on a sigh. "Most girls don't get pregnant the first time."

"Most girls are prepared," Mary replied. "Does he know?"

Kate assumed an innocent stare. "Does who know?"

"Don't insult my intelligence," Mary said, holding

Kate's arm to guide her along toward the exit. "Who else?"

"Another hopeless subterfuge," Kate laughed. "You're the limit, Mother."

"I'm smart, that's what I am. I should never have gone to that movie," she said shortly.

Kate flushed wildly. "It was my fault."

"It was not," Mary returned. "It takes two. He could have stopped, or you could have. I'm ashamed of both of you. Sex isn't a toy, or an amusement. It's for making babies and keeping a marriage happy."

"Now you tell me," Kate mused.

"I kept telling you. You just didn't listen. And he's still in Australia. Nobody's even heard from him." She glared at Kate. "If he doesn't come back, you'll write to him. It's his baby. It's his responsibility."

"We'll talk about that when we get home," Kate said firmly.

"There's nothing to talk about." Mary tried not to sound smug. At last, Kate was going to be looked after, even if she never became a designer. Jason would marry her, of course. And money would never be a problem for her baby again. Or her grandbaby. She felt glowingly happy. All that, and a son-in-law like Jason to boot. What a stroke of luck.

Kate didn't feel the same exultation, though. She was wondering how she was going to keep her secret until she knew Jason's heart. Her mother was going to be a major obstacle. "Don't you dare tell anybody," she warned Mary as they climbed into the black Tempo. "Not one person. I swear I'll vanish if you do."

Mary stared at her. Kate was usually a sweet, obedient little soul who never made trouble. But this determined woman didn't sound like Kate. She was at once more mature, more sensible. Mary sighed. "All right, baby," she agreed, when she saw that Kate meant it. "It's your right to tell Jason. I won't interfere."

"Thank you." She touched her mother's hand gently, and smiled. "I know what I'm doing. At least, now I do. And babies are sweet, whether or not they have the right name. I want this one, so much."

"Well, I never doubted that," Mary said, and she smiled back. "I know how you feel about Jason. I knew before you did."

The problem was, how did Jason feel about her?

Kate took the next day off because she was still tired out from her trip. Mr. Rogers agreed that it wouldn't hurt their schedule. And Mary went to work, reluctantly. Two hours later, Kate was in Dr. Harris's office, and hearing something that she was already expecting to hear. "I'll phone you tomorrow after we have the results from the pregnancy test," he said. "But there's nothing they're going to tell me that I don't already know." Kate sat quietly in his office, absorbing it. While it had only been a threat, she hadn't been afraid. Now she was. The thought of being responsible for a little human being was terrifying.

"Scared to death?" he asked gently, and smiled at her startled expression. "That's normal, believe it or not. We're all scared to death at first. But considering that the human body doesn't come with an instruction manual, people have done pretty well over the centuries."

"I'm not married," she said.

"When Jason finds out, you will be," he said imperturbably.

Kate went beet red. "Don't you dare...!"

"I'm a doctor," he reminded her. "You know, oath of silence, privileged information, not even if he tortures me, that kind of thing."

"And how do you know it's his?" Kate asked curtly.

He only smiled. "Who else could it belong to?"

"Maybe somebody I met in the night..."

"Cut it out," he interrupted. "I'm too busy to sit and listen to fairy tales. I delivered you, for God's sake. Don't you think I know that you'd never be intimate with a man you didn't love? Mary raised you that way. And Jason, despite this obvious setback, helped her instill those re
pressions."

"Some setback," she sighed. "Now what do I do? You know how Jason feels about marriage."

"Most men feel that way, until they become husbands and fathers. He likes children, Kate."

"There's just one thing," she said hesitantly.

"Well?"

She shifted in the chair. ' 'I had a little spotting last night. And some cramps, just for a few minutes." He looked concerned, and she decided not to mention the other times she'd had it. She didn't want to have to face the possibility that she could lose this baby.

He folded his arms across his chest and perched against his examination table. "Let me explain something about first pregnancies to you," he began. "Sometimes, for reasons no one really understands, things go wrong. There can be an abnormality in the fetus, or even in the mother's reproductive system. Whatever the reason, the womb expels the fetus. That's called spontaneous abortion. Now symptoms like yours very often herald that." He held up a hand when she stared to interrupt. "Let me finish. I'm not saying that you'll lose the baby. I'm telling you that it can hap
pen."

"What can I do?"

"We can do an ultrasound and an amniocentesis in a couple of weeks. That may tell us if there's an abnormality, but in all honesty, Kate, it doesn't about ninety-five percent of the time, and it can't guarantee a baby without defects." He shrugged. "There are simply no tests at present to reveal all the abnormalities. And if we found one," he continued, his eyes narrowing as he watched her expression, "would you want an abortion?"

She shuddered. "I know it would be sensible. But..."

"But, you couldn't," he said, smiling gently. "So, the only other alternative is that you can go to bed for the duration. You can avoid exertion, or emotional surges, and you can live like a nun. And after all that care, you can still lose the baby."

"You're not very encouraging," she sighed.

"On the other hand, you can go on living a normal life," he continued. "And if you're meant to have that baby, nothing will stop it from being born." "That sounds metaphysical," she said with a faint smile. He smiled back. "I'm a doctor. I've delivered a lot of babies. Sometimes a child with

everything against it will grow up to be a football player. Sometimes a very healthy child dies, for no apparent reason. Miscarriage is a risk every pregnant woman takes. And, Kate, you're young and very healthy. One episode of cramps and spotting isn't necessarily the start of a miscarriage. So stop worrying." He jerked away from the table. "I'll write you a prescription for some prenatal vitamins that will help you lift Mack trucks, and something for the morning sickness. Then I'll refer you to a good obstetrician in San Antonio."

"That's a long way."

"It's a good hospital. And the obstetrician and I went through medical school together."

She watched him scribble on his prescription pad. "If I don't tell Jason, you won't?"

He finished writing and handed her two prescriptions. The look he gave her through his spectacles was a speaking one. "All right. I'll tell him," she muttered.

"I'll have Becky get you an appointment with Ben Johnson and call you with the day and time. More than likely, it will be a month or so before he has an opening because he's good. Anyway, you're just in the early stages, and I'll look after you. If you have any more spotting or cramps, I want to know. All right?"

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