Winter Roses Part 5

She shook her head. "Well, I'm not going into the room with him unless he's confined."

"He hates cages. He's too big for most of them, anyway. Besides, he sits on top of the fridge and eats bugs."

"You need to get out more," she pointed out.

"I'm trying to, if you'll just agree," he shot back.

She sighed. "All right, I'll go. But people will gossip about us for weeks."

"I don't care. I'm immune to gossip. So are you," he added when she started to protest.

"I guess I am. Okay. I'll go. Is it jeans and boots?"

"No," he replied. "It's nice dresses and high heels."

"I hate dressing up," she muttered.

"So do I. But I can stand it if you can. And it's for a good cause," he added.

"Yes, it is."

"So, I'll pick you up here at six next Friday night."

She smiled. "I'll buy a dress."

"That's the spirit!"

Word got around town that she was going to the dance with Hayes. n.o.body ever knew exactly how gossip traveled so fast, but it was as predictable as traffic flow in rush hour.

Even Merrie heard about it, although Ivy had no idea how. She phoned her best friend two days before the dance.

"Hayes actually asked you out?" Merrie exclaimed. "But he doesn't date anybody! At least, he hasn't dated anybody since that Jones girl who dumped him for the visiting Aussie millionaire."

"That was two years ago," Ivy agreed, "and I still don't think he's really over her. We're only going to a dance, Merrie. He hasn't asked me to marry him."

"You never know, though, do you?" the other girl wondered aloud. "He might be feeling lonely. He loves kids."

"Slow down!" Ivy exclaimed. "I don't want to get married any more than Hayes does!"

"Why not?"

"I like living by myself," she said evasively. "Anyway, I expect Hayes doesn't know that many single women."

"There are plenty of divorced ones around," came the droll reply.

"The dance will benefit our animal shelter," Ivy told her. "It will add new kennels. We've got so many strays. It's just pitiful."

"I like animals, too, but Hayes isn't asking you to any dance because of stray dogs, you mark my word. Maybe he's going to flash you to deter some woman who's chasing him. That's the sort of thing my brother does."

"Your brother is better at it than Hayes is," Ivy said, not wanting to think of Stuart. She hadn't seen him in a long time.

"Well, of course he is. He gets plenty of practice." There was a sigh. "Except he doesn't seem to be dating anybody lately. I asked him why and he said it wasn't fun anymore. If I didn't know him better, I'd think he'd found someone he wanted to get serious about."

"That's unlikely," Ivy said, but she wondered if Merrie was right. It made her sad.

"Unlikely, but not impossible. I think I might come to the dance, too," she said out of the blue. "I can get someone to work my shift. Everybody owes me favors."

"Who will you come with?"

"I'll come by myself," Merrie returned. "I don't need a date. Tell Hayes to save me a dance, though."

Ivy laughed. "He can take both of us. That will really shake people up locally. They'll think he's putting around a new sort of double-dating."

Merrie laughed, too. "I had a flaming crush on Hayes when we were in high school, but he couldn't see me for dust. That was about the time he fell in with the she-tiger who ditched him for the Aussie. Served him right. Anybody could see that she was only a gold digger."

"Hayes owns his own ranch," she began.

"And he inherited a trust from his grandfather," Merrie agreed. "But Hayes isn't the sort to live on an income he didn't earn. He's like Stuart. They're both independent."

"Same as you," Ivy accused.

She laughed. "I guess so."

"How do you like being a nurse?"

"I love it," Merrie said honestly. "I've never enjoyed anything so much. I love knowing that I helped keep someone alive. It's the best job in the whole world."

"Merrie, you work all day with sick people," Ivy pointed out.

"Sick people? Me? Are you sure?"

"You work in a hospital," Ivy returned.

"No kidding? No wonder there are sick people everywhere!"

Ivy laughed. "Okay, you made your point. You're in the right place. I'm glad you like your job. You might not believe it, but I like mine just as much. I'm working with some really interesting people."

"So I've heard," Merrie replied. "I'm glad you're happy. But speaking of pleasant things, have you heard from Rachel?"

Ivy's happy face fell. She drew in a long breath. "As a matter of fact, I haven't. Not in over two months. The last I heard, she was trying to get away from Jerry the drug dealer so that she could shack up with a richer man. She wouldn't tell me his name. She did mention that he was married."

"Married. Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"I could barely make sense of what she said," Ivy replied. "She slurred her words so badly that she was incoherent. I can't imagine what a rich man would see in a woman who stays stoned all the time. How she can still act in that condition is beyond me."

"As long as she's leaving you alone, that has to be a bonus."

"I suppose. I just worry about her. She's the only living relative I have," she added. "Maybe the rich guy will wean her off drugs and get her away from Jerry for good. Unless his wife finds out." She groaned. "That's just what it would take to send Rachel over the edge. I'm sure she's convinced herself that he'll divorce his wife to stay with her. I don't think he will."

"Most of them don't," Merrie agreed. "Did she argue with the drug dealer?"

"I have no idea. But from what I understood, she thinks she's landed in a field of clover. The rich guy buys her diamonds."

"I won't ask what he gets in return."

Ivy grimaced. "Neither would I."

"Well, I'll see you at the dance. Where is it, and when?"

Ivy gave her the particulars, but she was morose when she hung up. What if Rachel was involved with someone well-known and the wife found out and went after her in the press? Rachel was bra.s.sy and demanding and totally lacking in compa.s.sion. But she was weak in every other way. A scandal would drive her over the edge. There was no telling what she might do.

There had been something unusual in their last conversation as well. Rachel had asked her to pa.s.s a message along to the owner of the only bakery in town, the Bun Shop. It hadn't made sense to Ivy; something about a shipment of flour that hadn't arrived on schedule. She wanted to know why Rachel was concerned with a bake shop. Rachel said it was a friend who needed the message pa.s.sed along.

That conversation had been more volatile than she felt comfortable divulging to Merrie. Rachel had mentioned the ultimatum she'd given her rich lover, that either he divorce his wife or she'd go public with the truth of their relationship. Ivy had pleaded with her to do no such thing, that if the man was that rich, his wife could hire someone to hurt her. Rachel had only laughed, saying that the wife was a cold fish who was half out of her mind, and that she posed no threat at all. But in case that fell through, she said, she'd discovered another good way to get a lot of money. She taunted Ivy with her newfound sources of wealth, intimating that Ivy couldn't get a man even if she had millions. Ivy didn't care. She was tired of Rachel's sarcasm.

They'd parted on not good terms. Rachel had accused her of being jealous. She'd never gotten the attention Rachel had, not even from their father. Ivy was just a loser, Rachel said, and she'd never be more than a clerk. Ivy had agreed that Rachel had gotten more attention at home, by lying about Ivy to their father and letting her take the punishment their father had deemed appropriate for her supposed sins.

Rachel had sounded shocked at the description of their father's idea of punishment. Ivy was lying, she'd accused. The old man hadn't had a violent bone in his body. He loved Rachel, Ivy reminded her sister bitterly. Ivy was just the servant, and the more Rachel denounced her, the more critical and angry he became.

For a few seconds, Rachel actually sounded regretful. But it pa.s.sed, as those rare bouts of sympathy always did. Rachel hung up abruptly, mumbling that her lover was at the door.

Ivy put down the phone and realized that she was shaking. Reliving those last days Rachel was at home made her miserable. Her memories were terrible.

She did go shopping for a dress, but the boutique owner she kept books for insisted on letting her borrow one of her own designs for the affair.

"It's my display model," Marcella Black insisted, "and just your size. Besides, it's the exact shade of green that your eyes are. You come by here at five, and I'll help you into it and I'll do your hair and makeup as well. No arguments. You're going to be a fairy princess Friday night."

"I'll turn into the frog at midnight," Ivy teased.

"Fat chance."

"All right. I'll come by at five on Friday. And thanks, Marcella. Really."

The older woman wrinkled her nose affectionately. "You just tell everybody who made that dress for you, and we're even."

"You bet I will!"

Hayes wasn't wearing his uniform. He had on a dark suit with a white cotton shirt and a blue patterned tie. His shoes were so shiny that they reflected the porch light at Mrs. Brown's rooming house.

Ivy had just returned in the little used VW she'd bought and learned to drive two years earlier from Marcella's boutique, where she'd been dressed and her long blond hair had been put up in a curly coiffure. She had on just enough makeup to make her look sensational. She was shocked at the results. She'd never really tried to look good. Her mirror told her that she did.

Hayes gave her a long, appreciative stare. "You look lovely," he said quietly. He produced a plastic container with a cymbidium orchid inside. He offered it with a little shrug. "She said that women wear them on their wrists these days."

"Yes," she said, "so they don't get crushed when we dance. You didn't have to do this, Hayes," she said, taking the orchid out of the box. "But thank you. It's just beautiful."

"I thought you might like it. Ready to go?"

She nodded, pulling the door closed behind her. She had a small evening bag that Marcella had loaned her to go with the dress. She really did feel like Cinderella.

The community center was full to the brim with local citizens supporting the animal shelter. Two of the veterinarians who volunteered at the animal clinic were there with their spouses, and most of the leading lights of Jacobsville turned up as well. Justin and Shelby Ballenger came with their three sons. The eldest was working at the feedlot with Justin during the summer and working on his graduate degree in animal husbandry the rest of the year. The other two boys were still in high school, but ready to graduate. The three of them looked like their father, although the youngest had Shelby's blue-gray eyes. The Tremayne brothers and the Hart boys came with their wives. Micah Steele and his Callie came, and so did the Doctors Coltrain, Lou and her husband "Copper." J. D. Langley and Fay, and Matt Caldwell and his wife Leslie, and Cash Grier with his Tippy were also milling around in the crowd. Ivy spotted Judd Dunn and his wife, Christabel, in a corner, looking as much in love as when they'd first married.

"Amazing, isn't it, that the hall could hold all these people?" Hayes remarked as he led Ivy up the steps into the huge log structure.

"It really is. I'll bet they'll be able to add a whole new kennel with what they make tonight."

He smiled down at her. "I wouldn't doubt it."

They b.u.mped into another couple, one of whom was Willie Carr, who owned the bakery. Then she remembered Rachel's odd message that she was supposed to give him.

"Willie, Rachel asked me to tell you something," she said, frowning as she struggled to remember exactly what it was.

Willie, tall and dark, looked uncomfortable. He laughed. "Now why would Rachel be sending me messages?" he asked, glancing at his wife. "I'm not cheating on you, baby, honest!"

"Oh, no, it wasn't that sort of message," Ivy said quickly. "It was something about a shipment of flour you were expecting that didn't arrive."

Willie cleared his throat. "I don't know anything about any shipment of flour that would go to New York City, Ivy," he a.s.sured her. "Rachel must have been talking about somebody else."

"Yes, I guess she must have. Sorry," she said with a sheepish smile. "She's incoherent most of the time lately."

"I'd say she is, if she's sending me messages about flour!" Willie agreed. He nodded at her and then at Hayes, and drew his wife back out onto the dance floor.

Hayes caught her hand and pulled her aside. "What shipment of flour was Rachel talking about?" he asked suddenly, and he wasn't smiling.

"I really don't know. She just said to tell Willie one was missing. She doesn't even eat sweets..."

"How long ago did she tell you to give Willie that message?" he persisted.

"About two days ago," she said. She frowned. "Why?"

Hayes took her by the hand and drew her along the dance floor to where Cash Grier was standing at the punch bowl with his gorgeous redheaded wife, Tippy.

"How's it going?" Cash greeted them, shaking hands with Hayes.

Hayes stepped closer. "Rachel sent Willie over there--" he jerked his head toward Willie, who was oblivious to the attention he was getting "--a message."

Cash was all business at once. "What message?"

Hayes prompted Ivy to repeat it.

"Code?" Cash asked Hayes.

The other man nodded. "It was two days ago that Ivy got the message."

Cash's dark eyes twinkled. "What a coincidence."

"Yes."

"Which proves that connection we were discussing earlier." He turned to Ivy. "If your sister sends any more messages to Willie, or anyone else, by you, tell Hayes, would you?"