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Authors: Fleeta Cunningham

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Half Past Mourning (29 page)

BOOK: Half Past Mourning
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Puzzled, Nina agreed that it might have been to Ron’s advantage to make his interest known. “But he’s always been pretty quiet. Does his job, and does it well, but you’d hardly know he was around. Has the artistic temperament a little bit, I think. He wanted to be a painter—an artist, I mean—but whether he had talent that way, I don’t know. I do know there isn’t anybody who can beat his work on the cars. And he’s always been considerate of Uncle Eldon and taken on a lot of work to make things easier because my uncle is in that wheelchair. But I never guessed he had an interest in me.”

“So you had an unexpected proposal. What else happened yesterday, sweetheart?”

“I found out about Tinker’s girlfriend. She’s a wonderful girl, sweet and pretty and smart. I’ve known her most of her life. I don’t think the family is going to be delighted that she’s involved with somebody with Tinker’s background, but the kids are both really young and it may blow over. Ron doesn’t trust Tinker. I don’t know if he has a reason or if they just don’t get along.”

“I know you like Tinker, but he bears watching, Nina. He keeps showing up at the right time and place to be part of something, like some of the car thefts. If he needs money to impress a girl, he might fall into his old habits.”

Nina knew Peter had a point, but she couldn’t forget the excitement, the almost religious fervor in Tinker’s face when he told her he’d wait and work to prove himself to Buffy’s family. “I just can’t believe it, Peter. There’s something so earnest and humble about the way he talks about his plans and hopes. It can’t be an act. And Buffy’s parents won’t be convinced by a sham. He’ll have to prove he’s sincerely working toward a goal.” She saw Peter was about to suggest they leave for the party. “There’s one other thing; Marigold came to see me.”

“Uh-oh. What did the witch of the Wilson clan want this time? Your perpetual dedication to Danny’s memory, or a vow of eternal fidelity?”

Nina shook her finger at him. “Be nice. Marigold’s had a revelation, or a change of heart. Her birthday was a few days ago, and she didn’t get her usual telegram with Danny’s name on it. That struck a bad note. Bad enough that she took a hard look at all the others and decided they didn’t come from her son. She’s devastated. Now she really does believe he’s dead.” The memory of Marigold’s pain was too fresh in her mind to make light of the situation. “She’s shattered, Peter. A shell of her usual, domineering self. She even
cried.
She wants to hire detectives to help with the search. Heaven help the person who sent those wires using Danny’s name. If she ever finds out who did it, I believe she’d boil the oil, heat the tar, and personally dip the culprit in both.”

“Quite a change,” Peter agreed. “If she thinks Danny is gone, is she willing to stop bullying you?”

“She told me to go and live my life. She’d never criticize me again.” Nina gave a small laugh. “I’m not sure I believe that part, but it’s a start.”

“For your sake, I hope she keeps her word.” Peter glanced at his watch. “You did have some kind of day, didn’t you? I think you’ve earned a night out. Ready to face the wilds of faculty life? These are nice people, and you should have a good time. Teachers, whatever level, seem to have common interests.”

****

Peter was correct. Nina did find common interests with the people who gathered around the oval pool in the late afternoon. Professor Millican and his wife expressed delight that Peter had brought his “new friend” to the gathering and made Nina welcome. Trays of appetizers and iced drinks filled tables around the pool area and small clusters of people in playsuits and beach wear made bright spots of tropical color under the striped awnings. Guests spoke the language of teachers—textbooks, attendance, curriculum, and administrative ills—regardless of the level they were teaching. Frank curiosity lingered in the faces of the people Peter introduced to her. A few managed to ask thinly veiled questions about where they met, how long they had been seeing each other, all of which Nina sidestepped with a smile. Peter might have to face an inquisition from his colleagues, but Nina felt no such obligation.

The heat of the evening built, and slowly the guests began to find relief from the late sun in the shaded lounge chairs around the pool. At Peter’s suggestion, she unbuttoned the skirt covering her suit and sat on the edge of the pool splashing bare feet in the water, though she decided not to swim. The silky coolness rippled over her skin and spattered her legs and arms, but she felt a little hesitant about mingling too closely with Peter’s colleagues.

“You look like a mermaid sitting there with your feet in the water.” Peter dropped down beside her, splashing a palm full of water over his face and throat.

“I could find it in my heart to envy the people who have their own pool.”

“Professor Millican is quite taken with you, Nina. You may have raised my standing with him just by gracing his event. Said you were a pip and I’d better keep you around.”

“A pip?”

“So he said.” Peter leaned on one knee and turned away from the edge of the pool to look behind her. “It looks like things are breaking up. Probably we’re safe to leave in a bit.”

“I’ve enjoyed it, but the snacks are wearing thin. Dinner would be good, but I didn’t bring a change of clothes and I’m not dressed to go anywhere.”

“I have a couple of steaks at my place,” Peter suggested. “And you’re dressed well enough to go there. Besides, you have that skirt thing if you feel self-conscious.”

“Dinner at your place?” Nina shook her damp curls loose and considered the suggestion. “Is that an invitation or a request to help with the cooking?”

Peter laughed. “Both,” he confessed. “I can grill a steak as well as anybody, but I could use some help with the salad and whatever else we have. There’s a nice bottle of red wine stuck up in the cabinet. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to open it.”

Dinner at Peter’s house?
The temptation to see where and how he lived was strong. And she was hungry. They couldn’t go anywhere dressed for a pool party, him in shorts and her in a play suit and little else.

“A steak and a glass of wine sound like just the ticket. Thank you for suggesting it.”

They lingered long enough to see the last heat of the evening fading into sunset. Nina buttoned her swirling skirt over her suit and fluffed her curls with her fingers. Bidding the host and hostess good evening, she and Peter returned to the waiting T‑Bird and left the elegant house on the outskirts of Pueblo. For once, being in the car didn’t bring back memories of Danny or the times they’d shared. Nina felt free of the past, at least for the moment.

“My place isn’t much,” Peter told her. “I took what I could get when I came here. It belongs to one of the other faculty members, and I was lucky to get it. Faculty housing is something of a problem. It’s a nice enough house but doesn’t have much in the way of style.”

“You know, I’ve lived in my house all my life. It’s exactly the way my mother left it the last day she was there. It’s comfortable, but I don’t really pay much attention to it. I suppose one of these days I’ll have to think about painting, or putting up new wallpaper, or changing something, but not till I’m forced to deal with it. Guess I’d rather talk cars with Uncle Eldon than discuss curtain patterns with the girls.”

“A true tomboy, aren’t you?” Peter’s voice held a smile.

“All the way through,” Nina agreed. “But I can cook. Mother insisted that I had to be able to do a little around the house, though I spent most of my time with Dad and my uncle. I knew more about cars and racing than I did about dolls and playing house.”

“Ever think you’d get married, have kids, be a wife and mother?”

Nina shook her head. “I guess I always thought I’d marry Danny, but we didn’t plan to have children. He said he didn’t want to pass on to them any of the health problems he had. I don’t know if that was what he really wanted or whether he just didn’t like the idea of having children around. He was good with the youngsters who came to the museum, in a sort of big-brother way, but he never wanted kids of his own. So I’d be a wife, I thought, but not a mother. No babies, not even kittens or puppies to raise, because of his allergies.”

Peter didn’t comment, but his frown was as eloquent as words. In the fading light, he pulled the car into a driveway beside a small cottage. Its stone exterior and red trim were neat but a little shabby. Nina climbed out of the low car and pushed aside an overgrown bush to reach the porch. Peter opened the door and held it for her to enter.

The furniture, mixed styles but sturdy and utilitarian, ran to beige and forest green. The kitchen, a dark little closet of a room, had only the most basic of equipment. Peter prepared the steaks as Nina used a corner of the table and a battered knife to cut and peel salad vegetables. In spite of the limitations, she enjoyed making and sharing dinner with Peter. He regaled her with stories of his adventures as an army brat and the instigator of pranks and misbehavior that gave his parents nightmares for years.

A pensive silence fell as Nina compared her upbringing with the antics of Peter and his brothers. Having siblings must be nice, she mused, and felt she’d missed something in being an only child.

“You’re awfully quiet, Nina.” Peter reached across the table to take her hand.

“You and your brothers had some memorable times together.”

Peter turned her palm up and ran one finger across it. “You did, too, Nina. Spending time with your uncle was something unique. He’s a famous guy, a legend in his field. That’s a pretty special relationship, not one many people can claim.”

Nina agreed. “I guess it was unusual, a little girl and a world-class race driver. He’s always been my best friend. I wouldn’t trade that for anything, not even to have brothers and sisters.”

A spell of silence fell between them again until Peter broke it. “You’re coming to the end of this long, dark night, Nina. We don’t have all the answers, may never have all of them, but you’re beginning to come out of the cocoon, little butterfly, and spread your wings.” He drew his chair closer. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you, seeing you every day become more and more the person you were meant to be. I don’t know many people who could face the uncertainty, the long, empty days, with the kind of courage you have.”

He stopped to fold her hand over his. “I love you, Nina. I know you can’t make promises or even think about the future until all of this is settled somehow. Whether you ever learn Danny’s fate or just have to go on and make your life without knowing, you’re going to be a strong and happy woman. I want to be part of that future, Nina. I want you with me for the rest of our lives. I know you won’t make that commitment now, but I’d like to know, sweetheart, that you care for me a little. At least a little?”

Doubt and confusion had filled Nina each time she tried to sort out her feelings for Peter. So many times she’d asked herself the same thing. Did she love Peter? Did she respond to his touch only because she was a woman who’d been alone too long
?
Were loneliness and the empty place in her life the only reasons she turned to him so quickly? She stared down at the table between them for a long moment.

“Sometimes I think I must love you, Peter. And then...then I remember how I felt about Danny, or I think I remember, and I try to decide if the way I feel about you is like the feelings I had for him. And they’re not. It’s totally different. So I’m all mixed up. Can I love you and not know it? Or maybe I don’t know what love is. When I was seventeen, I knew, absolutely knew, I was in love with Danny Wilson. Now I don’t know if I loved him or just had the habit of thinking I did.” Miserable with the confusion that threatened to swamp her, Nina looked up at Peter. “So the answer to your question is that I don’t know. I’m not even sure I know what love between a man and a woman feels like.”

“What does it feel like, love between a man and a woman?” Peter pulled her to her feet and swept her up in his arms. “It feels like this, Nina.” His lips caught hers in a kiss almost savage in its intensity.

Powerful steps propelled them into a bedroom where Peter deposited her on the bed. Long and lean, he stretched beside her, his arms holding her against him. Tight blue shorts hid nothing of his arousal, and she could feel the hardness of him against her.

“Peter!” Her protest wavered and died with his flaming kiss. He held her captive, long fingers of one hand tangling her curls, the other holding her wrists confined, as he kissed her again, deeply, lighting fires within her that consumed her thoughts. He was the sole reality, the only solid thing in a world that was spinning out of control.

“What does love feel like between a man and a woman, darling? It feels like heaven, it burns like hell, and it sweeps away everything that tries to stop it.” His hand roamed slowly down through her hair, caressed her neck, and lit small flames as his fingertips stroked the curve of her breast. “Can you love me, Nina? Do you? Will you let yourself?”

Nina stared into the stormy depths of his grey eyes and knew, knew at last, what he meant. “I do love you, Peter. Oh, I do, I do. I didn’t know it until this minute, but I do.” She buried her face against his shoulder, clinging, holding, afraid to let go.

His lips touched her forehead, her eyelids, the curve of her neck. She arched up to him, reveling in his touch, the heat of his body, the power in his kiss.

“I want you, Nina. Want to touch you, hold you, feel myself inside you.”

She swallowed hard, facing her own needs and desires. “I...I want that, too,” she whispered.

“I know.” He brushed his fingers through her hair again. “I know, sweetheart, and it’s going to happen. But not tonight, not now, and not like this. We’ll have all the nights of the world and all the reasons to make our love complete, but not just yet. When you know you’re free to give yourself to me, and when I know that nothing can come between us, then it’s going to be right.”

BOOK: Half Past Mourning
13.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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