In response to Linnette’s question, Vicki shook her head. “Cal wouldn’t like it if he found out I’d stopped by.”
Knowing him as well as she did, Linnette agreed. Unlatching the screen door, she pushed it open to allow the other woman inside.
As Vicki walked into the apartment, her gaze darted about the room, taking in the boxes that littered the floor. “So it’s true. You are moving.”
Linnette ignored her comment and gestured toward the sofa. “Would you like to sit down?”
Vicki declined with a shake of her head. She gazed down at the carpet. “I heard you were leaving, and I just wanted to tell you how … how sorry I am.”
“Sorry that I’m leaving?”
“No … sorry that I hurt you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I.” Vicki looked up then and seemed to reach some decision. “I’ve been in love with Cal for a long time,” she said. “Long before he met you. He didn’t know it and I … I didn’t know how to tell him, so I said nothing. I never thought he could possibly love me.”
“It’s because of Cal that you volunteered to help with the mustang rescue, isn’t it?”
Vicki nodded. “Well … partly. The cause is important to me too, of course. Anything to do with horses.”
“I understand.” After a brief silence, she asked, “You knew about me?”
Vicki nodded again. “I tried not to love him.”
Linnette wasn’t sure of the other woman’s purpose in confronting her. Perhaps she felt guilty. Perhaps because of that she was hoping Linnette would yell at her, curse her, condemn her for taking the man Linnette loved. A week earlier, that was exactly what might have happened. Not now. “I’m the one who’s trying not to love him,” Linnette whispered.
“I’m sure there’ll be lots of other opportunities for you. You’ll find someone else to love—someone who’ll love you,” Vicki said urgently. “But for me.” She cleared her throat. “I communicate better with animals than I do with people. I always have. As soon as I met Cal, I felt we should be together. He has the same feeling about animals.”
Linnette suddenly had a sharp clear memory of the time she’d come to visit Cal and overheard him crooning to an injured horse. He hadn’t known she was there. Linnette had felt as if she was intruding on a private moment, a private world.
“Cal’s asked me to marry him,” Vicki said in a low voice. “I want to.”
“Then you should,” Linnette said.
“We both feel so guilty.”
“Don’t, please.” She reached out to touch Vicki’s arm. In the beginning she’d hated this woman, but she no longer felt that way. “I want you both to be happy.”
“You mean that?” Vicki asked, frowning.
“With all my heart.” Linnette took a deep breath. “If you’ve come looking for my absolution, then you have it.”
“Can I tell Cal we’ve talked?”
Linnette nodded. “You’re right, you know. I will find someone else.” For the first time she actually believed it.
Six
It was the Saturday evening of the dreaded family dinner.
Teri couldn’t stop fidgeting. She checked the ham roasting in the oven, along with a huge casserole of scalloped potatoes. She’d chosen fresh green beans for the vegetable; they were simmering on the stove. Although it was summer, ham had always been served on special occasions, and Teri wasn’t about to break with tradition. The table was set with her formal dishes—even the concept of “formal” and “everyday” dishes was a new one for her—and sparkling crystal glasses. Nothing but the best for Mom, Christie and the gang, she thought with no small degree of irony. Against her better judgment, Teri was introducing her family, such as it was, to her husband.
“Bobby,” she called, leaving the kitchen and pulling off the apron she’d donned to protect her pale-green shirt. She’d worn it for confidence, since Bobby loved that color on her. When he came toward her, she drew in a calming breath. “Remember what I told you?”
Her husband regarded her blankly.
“About Christie.”
Judging by the blank look he gave her, he didn’t recall a word. She’d wanted to warn him so he’d be prepared. Her sister, slim and lovely, would do everything in her power to attract him—and steal him away if she could.
Teri suspected that Christie had coerced Johnny into arranging this meeting just so she could prove yet again that any man would prefer her. Christie was thinner, prettier, sexier, and she made sure Teri knew it. Not for a minute did Teri discount her sister’s charms.
She sighed at Johnny’s naiveté. She didn’t really blame him for engineering this … this fiasco-to-be; her little brother desperately wanted them all to live in peace and harmony—as though they actually liked each other.
She sighed again. “My family will be here any minute.”
Bobby stared back at her, then slowly smiled. “I love you, remember.”
“I’m not the one who needs to be reminded.” Christie could be subtle while she was busy flattering some unsuspecting man. She’d be completely absorbed in Bobby, hang on his every word. He’d fall for it, too, she thought grimly. It seemed that every guy she’d loved had been lured away by her sister. Whenever Christie met any man in Teri’s life, he was no longer interested in her. Even if Christie had a boyfriend at the time, she had to take her sister’s, too.
No one had mattered to Teri as much as Bobby. If Christie assumed she could waltz into Teri’s home and play her games, then her little sister had a real surprise awaiting her.
“Tell me their names again,” Bobby said.
“My mother’s name is Ruth and her husband, my stepfather, is Donald.” Teri had to stop and think. “No, sorry, Johnny phoned and told me Mom’s left Donald and now she’s planning to marry Mike. I haven’t met him yet.” She shook her head. Out of seven men, Ruth had yet to pick a decent one as far as Teri could tell, and she doubted Mike would be the exception.
“Ruth and Mike,” Bobby dutifully repeated. “And your sister’s Christie.”
“Christie Levitt.” She bit out the name, hoping she didn’t sound as angry as she felt.
He nodded.
“I told Mom we wouldn’t be serving any alcohol.”
“Okay.” Bobby studied her.
Bobby could be completely oblivious to what was going on around him—the time of day, the weather, even what month it was. However, when it came to Teri, he seemed to notice more than she sometimes realized.
“Is your sister like you?” he asked.
Now, that was an interesting question. Christie wasn’t like her, and yet she was. Two years younger, Christie had tagged after her for the first twelve years of Teri’s life. Anything Teri had, Christie wanted—and generally got. Teri could say without hesitation that their mother had always favored her younger daughter. And yet Christie was capable of kindness on occasion, which Teri found all too easy to forget. She knew enough about human nature to understand that she and Christie shared an insecurity that probably stemmed from their mother’s selfishness and neglect. Ruth might have preferred Christie and spoiled her but both girls had suffered. They just expressed their insecurity