The Master Fiddler Part 4

The corners of his mouth drooped. "Do you have to go?"

"Of course," Jacquie laughed, instilling deliberately careless unconcern in the sound despite the twinge of guilt at the dullness that clouded his face. "I wouldn't have been here at all if it wasn't for the damage to my car. I have to go to Los Angeles."

"Why?"

It was a good question. Jacquie simply shrugged indifferently. "Because I do, that's all." The subject needed changing. "Where's your father?"

"At a meeting." Robbie leaned heavily on his crutches. "He'll be coming pretty soon, I suppose."

"Well, you'd better wait here for him," she said with false brightness, and started to turn away.

"Where are you going?" The wooden crutches were quickly shifted to follow her.

"Into the restaurant to have something to eat." Her hunger was growing with each minute. She didn't intend to deny herself food just to avoid Robbie.

"Can I come with you?" he asked eagerly. "I don't think that's a good idea," Jacquie inserted quickly. "How will your father know where you are?"

"He'll find me," Robbie replied with certainty. Then there was a flash of hesitancy. Brown eyebrows straightened into a line. "Am I bothering you? Dad says I bother people and that they really don't want me around."

Jacquie could see that Robbie was mentally bracing himself for a rejection. He had suddenly seen through her subtle attempts to be rid of him and was experiencing the searing and painful truth. d.a.m.n Choya Barnett, she raged silently. What harm could it possibly do to spend a few minutes with the boy?

r "Heavens, no, you don't bother me!" She flashed him a brilliant smile. "I like you, Robbie. I just didn't want you to get into any trouble with your dad by coming into the restaurant with me. If you don't think he'll mind, why don't you come in with me and have a milk shake while I eat?" Silently, Jacquie added that his father could get just as angry as he liked because she had broken her promise.

"A banana milk shake!" Robbie declared with a wide grin of acceptance.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Robbie slurped noisily on his straw, sucking up the last drop of milk shake from his gla.s.s. Jacquie smiled inwardly at the sound and sipped at her iced tea. The bell above the restaurant door jingled, signaling the entrance of a customer.

The straw remained in Robbie's mouth, his hands around the gla.s.s, as he glanced over the rim at the door. Spiky lashes quickly veiled the pale brown of his eyes.

Jacquie tensed, her chin jerking slightly upward an instant before the footsteps stopped at their table. There was a blaze of gold over her features, the eyes of a mountain cat that had found its prey.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, Mr. Barnett." She cast him a dazzling smile of feigned surprise.

"Miss Grey," Choya Barnett returned the greeting tautly.

r "h.e.l.lo, dad," Robbie added brightly. "I was just keeping Jacquie company while she ate her dinner."

"So I see." He remained standing, towering above them both as if contemplating which of them to pounce on first. Robbie squirmed uncomfortably and it took all of Jacquie's willpower not to do the same. Choya picked up the crutches leaning against a chair and pointedly handed them to Robbie. "You can go out to the jeep. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Yes sir." Robbie didn't even glance at Jacquie as he balanced himself on the crutches and proceeded from the restaurant.

Resentment flashed with fiery blue green flames in her eyes, but she concealed it by making a show of searching through her bag for her wallet. With the wallet and the check for the meal in her hand, she rose from the table, brushing past Choya as if he wasn't even there.

"Do you always break your promises so casually, Miss Grey?" he accused in a low voice.

"Yes!" she hissed, waiting impatiently at the cash register while the waitress rang up the amount and gave her the correct change. When they stepped outside, Jacquie finished speaking the heated words burning the tip of her tongue. "Especially I break them when a little boy asks if he's bothering me because he's lonely. And for your information, I met him only as I was going into the restaurant. I haven't been with him all afternoon."

"Sometimes it's kinder to be cruel. I thought I explained that," Choya retorted.

"It's easy for you to say that." She was breathing heavily now, with anger. "Being cruel probably comes naturally to you!"

His hand snaked out to seize her wrist, yanking her toward him. Jacquie was a hair's breadth away from discovering how accurate her statement was. But his action knocked the large bag from her hand. She hadn't bothered to fasten the clasp and its contents spilled over the boardwalk and into the street.

"Look what you've done!" she snapped, and wrenched her wrist free of his hold, uncaring that the accident had granted her a reprieve from his anger.

As she stooped to begin gathering the scattered contents, Robbie came hobbling from the jeep parked in front of the restaurant. "I'll help, Jacquie," he offered.

He maneuvered himself into a sitting position on the board sidewalk and began picking up the items that had rolled into the street.

r Picking up a tube of lipstick near the pointed toe of Choya Barnett's boot, Jacquie glared up.

"You could help," she accused.

Then she wished she had said nothing as he bent down beside her, dark umber brown hair waving thickly beneath the band of his Stetson hat. Unceremoniously he began dumping items back in her handbag with no regard for neatness or order. With her heartbeat quickening at the sight of the rippling muscles beneath his shirt, Jacquie soon didn't care either, anxious only to be out of range of his animal attraction.

When all the items Robbie had gathered were back in her bag, Jacquie moved swiftly to the edge of the sidewalk, holding the large bag open for his handful. This time she closed it securely and stayed well away from Choya's reach.

"Would you like a ride back to your motel?" Robbie asked.

Smiling tightly, Jacquie shook her head, refusing to even glance at his father. "No, thank you. I'm not going back right now."

The real truth was she didn't want to ride with Choya. At this hour, there were very few places she could go, except to a saloon. She might have a wild streak, but it wasn't so strong that she would venture into a strange bar alone. She would walk slowly back to the motel, but she wouldn't accept the offer of a ride.

"Goodbye, Robbie." She bent down and offered her hand to the boy. "You take care of yourself."

He shook it solemnly, a glimmer of apprehension in his pale brown eyes, but no tears. "Goodbye, Jacquie."

She straightened, meeting the impenetrable mask of his father. "Goodbye, Mr. Barnett." She didn't offer him her hand, letting her fingers curl around the strap of the handbag. "It's been an experience running into you."

His alert gaze ran over the taunting smile on her face, his mouth quirking at one corner. But he didn't respond to her play on words. "Goodbye, Miss Grey," in a very final tone.

As Choya moved to help Robbie into the jeep, Jacquie turned away and began walking down the street in the opposite direction of her motel. She pretended an interest in the contents of a shop window until she heard the jeep start and pull away from the curb. She glanced over her shoulder and waved once more to Robbie.

When they were out of sight, she felt crazily alone. The sun was touching the roofs on its downward slide. Sighing unconsciously, she turned and started walking toward her motel. Tomorrow she would be gone, and all that had happened to her here would become a humorous story she would relate at some party or other. In a way, it hardly seemed right.

That night Jacquie slept soundly, not waking until well after eight in the morning. She showered quickly and packed the suitcase she had brought to the motel, setting it beside the door so she could pick it up when she came back with her car.

With the strap of her bag slung over one shoulder, she tucked one side of her unnaturally thick blond hair behind an ear and started for the garage. Snug-fitting jeans in a faded blue molded the long length of her legs. The navy blue knit top with its st.i.tched-on star in the center left little to the imagination.

In the short walk to the garage, two cars stopped to offer her a lift, but Jacquie waved them on. Hitchhiking was not her idea of safe travel. As she was crossing the highway to the garage, she saw the mechanic standing beside the gas pumps.

"Hi! Is my car fixed?" she called to him.

He nodded and waited until she was closer to answer. "It's all ready for you, just like a brand new one."

"I hope it doesn't cost like a new one," Jacquie laughed as she followed him into the small office. "I couldn't afford it."

The man laughed briefly in return and picked up an itemized bill from a cluttered desk top. "I tried to be as fair as I could," he replied, handing it to her.

The curved brim of the man's cap was pulled low over his receding hairline, hiding his eyes. Yet Jacquie could feel the slow appraisal of his gaze moving over her while she studied the bill. She was too accustomed to such looks to be insulted. There was no harm in looking or thinking. And she knew how to handle those who weren't satisfied with that.

"It all seems to be in order." She breathed in deeply, glancing from the paper to give the mechanic a dazzling smile. The total wasn't as much as his estimate had been.

"I overestimated the labor cost a bit," the mechanic explained, his eyes brightening at her smile. "I never worked on that model of a car before and I wasn't sure how long it would take."

"I appreciate your honesty."

Sliding the strap from her shoulder, she set her bag on a fairly empty corner of the desk and unfastened the clasp. She hadn't bothered to put the contents in order after they had spilled in the street the afternoon before. She began sifting through the oversized bag, searching for her wallet.

"That's the trouble with big bags," she smiled ruefully. "They hold so much that you never can find anything when you want it."

There was an understanding gleam in the man's eyes that said he could patiently wait all day. A twinge of fear raced through her when her rummaging search didn't produce the wallet. Smiling nervously, she began taking the larger items out and placing them on the desk beside her bag. Soon the bottom of the bag was in sight and still no wallet.

"It can't be gone!" she breathed with a touch of panic, and began going through the articles she had laid on the desk. The wallet wasn't among them. Raking her fingernails through the waving thickness of her white gold hair, she paused in her search, troubled turquoise green eyes meeting the questioning glance of the mechanic. "My wallet's gone. It has all my money and my credit cards and my identification everything."

"Are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?" he suggested.

"No, I didn't." She shook her head, then hesitated. "At least may I use your telephone?"

"Of course." He turned the black phone on his desk toward her. "Be my guest."

Hurriedly Jacquie telephoned the restaurant where she had eaten the previous afternoon and asked if her wallet had been turned in. At the negative answer, she explained that she had spilled the contents of her handbag outside the door and asked if someone would check to see if it had rolled under the board sidewalk.

After waiting for heart-pounding seconds while it was checked, the answer was still no. A phone call to the police department met with the same answer that it hadn't been turned in. Whoever had found it had obviously kept it or thrown it away where no one else would find it.

When she hung up the telephone, her mind was frantically searching for a solution. What was she going to do without money?

"Maybe you could have left it in the motel?" The mechanic studied the white teeth thoughtfully nibbling at her lower lip, his expression concerned, yet reserved.

"No," Jacquie sighed. "I packed everything before I came here. If it was there, I would have found it."

"I wish there was something I could do," the man murmured sympathetically.

"Maybe," hope glimmered, "you could." It was one thing to be flat broke and another to be broke and on foot. "I need my car."

"Well..." the mechanic faltered, glancing at the itemized bill lying on his desk.

"I'd pay you back, I promise," Jacquie rushed, "just as soon as I found a job. Every dime of it."

The man readjusted the cap on his head, plainly reluctant to agree. Jacquie's father had often accused her of depending more on her feminine allure than her intelligence. It had often proved the easiest means of getting her way. "Honestly!" Her brilliantly expressive eyes darted to the name st.i.tched above the pocket of his overalls.

"Bob, I need my car, and you can trust me to pay the bill."

"Miss Grey, I..." He shifted uncomfortably, his mouth curving weakly to return the faintly coaxing smile of her glistening lips. "I don't really see how I could. This is just a small garage and your bill is a lot of money for me to carry."

"I know," she agreed, moving toward him and letting her hand rest on his forearm. "But I really need my car," she pleaded earnestly. Her fingers dug slightly into the muscle of his arm in a desperately clutching manner as if he was the only one in the world she could turn to for help.

He swallowed nervously, his gaze focused on her moist, parted lips. She could sense that he was weakening and felt a rush of power. Some men were so easily maneuvered.

"I'd do anything," she added the breathy promise with suggestive emphasis on the last word.

A redness began creeping up from the neckline of his shirt. His gaze fell away, hesitating for a tantalizing second on the rounded swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then focused on the desk top. Nervously he cleared his throat and Jacquie knew victory was within her grasp.

Until a low voice pulled it out of reach. "That's an all-inclusive statement. What's the problem, Miss Grey?"

At the sound of Choya Barnett's voice, Jacquie's lashes closed, but she didn't turn around. The mechanic took a quick, embarra.s.sed step away from her, a dull red spreading across his cheeks.

"Well, Choya," the man said with a nervous tremor, "I didn't expect to see you in town today."

"I had to take Robbie to the doctor, then on to school," he explained, but Jacquie could tell that his piercing gaze had not left her back. "What seems to be the difficulty here?"

"Miss Grey," the mechanic darted her an anxious look, "lost her wallet or had it stolen. She, uh, doesn't have any money."

"You had the wallet yesterday at the restaurant," Choya stated flatly.

Jacquie breathed in deeply. How did he manage to always find her in the worst possible situation? With a defiant toss of her head, she glanced over her shoulder, her glittering jewel-colored eyes meeting the faint contempt in the metallic hardness of his gaze. The gold loop of her earring rested coolly along the side of her neck.

"Yes, I had it at the restaurant," she agreed with forced calm. "But if you remember, the contents of my handbag were accidently spilled as I was leaving. More than likely, my wallet wasn't put back in my bag and someone came along, found it, and didn't return it."

"Have you telephoned to be certain?" The skepticism in his tone rankled.

"I phoned the restaurant and the police," Jacquie replied shortly.

"Did you leave it at your motel?" His implication was obvious. He believed she had conveniently forgotten her wallet in the hope that she could trick her way out of paying the repair bill for her car.

"I did not."

"Perhaps we'd better go and check," Choya suggested with an arrogant and challenging flick of a dark eyebrow.

"By all means let's check." With a seething fury, Jacquie began stuffing the contents of her bag back into the bag.

How dared he accuse her of lying? Her smile to the mechanic was determinedly sweet. There was some measure of satisfaction in seeing Choya's mouth thin grimly in disgust at the smile. If she was going to be hanged as a tramp, she might as well act like one! After all, she thought sarcastically as she swept out through the door ahead of him, she didn't want to disappoint the autocratic Choya Barnett.

"My wallet won't be at the motel," she declared, sliding into thepa.s.senger seat of the jeep. "Why? Did you hide it somewhere alongthe road on the way here?" he taunted harshly.

"No, I didn't!" Her temper flared. "It is truly missing."