Hidden Talents Page 12
“Probably because you didn't know what you were missing,” Caleb muttered.
“As Quinton says, we are all capable of finding contentment on many different planes of existence. We just have to be open to discovering the peace within ourselves.”
“Sure. So what happened to this wonderful relationship that transcended sex?”
“I told you, one day Stewart realized that he was going to be all right. He also knew that his sex life was going to be normal again.”
“You mean he was finally able to get an erection, so he split?” Caleb asked dryly.
“That's a rather crude way of putting it, but basically that's what happened. We both realized that he would be leaving Witt's End once he was healed. Stewart was a very kind man and he did what he thought was best.”
“Kind? You think he was being kind?” Caleb stared at her. “He sounds like a self-centered SOB. He used you to comfort him until he could get a hard-on again and then he left town.”
“He didn't think it would be fair to make love to me and then leave for good. I knew it was time to let him go. So that was that.”
“No offense, Serenity, but between this Bartlett character and what you told me about Radburn, I have to say that you've had some damn strange relationships.”
“Speaking of relationships,” Serenity said eagerly, “I've been thinking. Maybe I was wrong earlier. Maybe this is the right time for us.”
“No. You were right earlier.” Caleb exhaled deeply. Then he eased her off his lap and stood up in the tub. Water poured off of his sleek, powerful body as he went up the steps. He reached for a towel.
“Caleb?” She watched the play of light and shadow on his wet, glistening flanks.
He smiled in the shadows. “It's late. I've got to get some sleep tonight. I'm supposed to do product analysis tomorrow, remember?”
“Yes, I know, but I want to explain something.”
“There's nothing more to explain. Not tonight. I told you to trust me.”
“I know.” She watched wistfully as he got dressed. He was lean and hard and so enthrallingly male. She ached just looking at him. “You're out to prove something here, aren't you?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I was afraid of that.” She got reluctantly out of the tub and picked up a fluffy towel.
Neither of them said another word as they finished getting dressed.
Caleb paused long enough at the front door to kiss Serenity one last time. And then he went out into the night with a flashlight.
She watched through the window for a while, and then she drifted down the hall to her bed.
A few minutes later, hovering on the verge of sleep, she could have sworn that somewhere in the distance a waltz was playing. Montrose, she thought. He often practiced his music late at night. In the vast silence of the mountains the sound carried a long way.
But her last thought was that a waltz was not part of Montrose's usual repertoire.
7
CALEB WALKED INTO WITT'S END GROCERY ONE MINUTE after Serenity opened the door the following morning. “I've got a favor to ask,” he said without preamble.
Serenity was taken aback by the glittering intensity in his shuttered gaze. This certainly solved one small problem, she told herself. She had been wondering all morning what she would say to him when she saw him today. He had taken the matter out of her hands.
“What's the favor?”
He glanced at Zone, who was busily dusting shelves at the other end of the room. Then he looked back at Serenity and lowered his voice. “I have to visit my family this weekend. Tomorrow's my grandfather's eighty-second birthday. I'm expected to be there. I want you to come with me.”
“It's very nice of you to invite me,” she temporized.
“Will you come?”
She met his eyes and knew she could not refuse. “Where do they live?”
“Ventress Valley. It's a two-hour drive from here.”
“Ventress Valley?” Serenity's voice rose. “Ventress Valley?” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Is this some kind of grand coincidence in names or are you actually a member of a family that has an entire town named after it?”
“The town was named after my great-grandfather. What's that got to do with anything?”
“Good grief.”
His mouth tightened. “What's so strange about it? Aren't there any Witts left here in Witt's End?”
“Heck, no. The original Headcase Witt was a 1960s era dropout, A genuine hippie who tried to establish a commune here. When it didn't work out the way he planned, he went north to Alaska. No one ever heard from him again.”
“Ventress Valley wasn't so lucky. The Ventresses stuck around. They owned most of the good farmland in the area.”
“Owned? Past tense?”
“For the most part.” Caleb braced one hand against the wall and eyed her with grim impatience. “We sold off a lot of the land during the past few years in favor of other investments. My grandfather held on to a few acres. He raises horses. Any other questions?”
“How many acres?” Serenity asked suspiciously.
“Does it matter?”
She pursed her lips and considered that. “I don't know. Are you terribly rich, Caleb? I mean, I know you're successful, but are you a zillionaire or something?”
“We can talk about the state of my finances some other time. Right now I just want a yes or no answer. Will you come with me to Ventress Valley?”
Serenity searched his face. “I don't know. I've spent too much time away from my store lately as it is.”
“We'll only be gone overnight. Zone can watch the store.”
“Why do you want me to go with you?”
“Because I want you to meet my family. Yes or no?”
She folded her arms across her chest and tapped one toe. “Do you think your family will like me?”
“Who gives a damn what they think? Yes or no?”
“Yes.” She threw up her hands in surrender. “Okay. Yes. All right. I'll go with you.”
He nodded once, his jaw rigid. “That's settled, then. I'll see you later. I've got a line of people waiting for me over at the Sunflower Café.”
“Oh, yes, that's right. Product evaluations.” Serenity frowned. “Remember, I want to find space for everyone who would like to be in the catalog.”
“I specialize in getting business ventures off the ground, not stroking artistic egos. No one gets in the catalog with a product that doesn't meet standards.”
Serenity smiled confidently. “I'm sure everyone's product will meet the requirements. If not, we'll work with the person until it does.”
Caleb gave her a laconic glance but he said nothing. He turned around and walked out of the store. The bells clamored loudly as the door closed behind him.
Zone waited until the bells had gone silent. She put down her duster and placed her palms together “What was that all about, Serenity?”
“Darned if I know.”
“Danger,” Zone whispered. “Confusion and danger and turmoil.”
“Nah. I think he's just in a bad mood because he didn't get laid last night.”
“I got the feeling that it's very important to him, Ariadne.” Serenity checked the price stickers on several jars of tahini dressing before she began to arrange them on the shelf. “Caleb wants me to go home with him today and I said that I would. We're leaving around ten.”
“So he wants you to meet his family.” Ariadne Galpin, owner and sole proprietor of the Sunflower Café, wore an expression of profound concern. “Sounds like a very traditional sort of man.”
“He is.”
“You don't do well with the traditional type, Serenity.”
“Caleb's different.”
Ariadne pushed one thick, graying braid back over her shoulder and crossed her arms beneath her ample bosom. Everything about Ariadne was broad and ample. Had she lived in more conventional surroundings, she would have been stereotyped
as the grand-motherly sort. Here in Witt's End, people thought of her as an earth mother. There wasn't much difference, she had once told Serenity.
“I give up,” Ariadne said. “How can he be different and traditional at the same time?”
Serenity shoved the last jar of tahini onto the shelf and straightened. She smiled at Ariadne with all the deep warmth and affection generated by a lifelong bond. Ariadne had been present the day Serenity was born. She, along with the handful of others who had been in Witt's End that day, had helped raise Serenity.
It was Ariadne who had taught Serenity how to cook, how to operate a cash register, and how to keep basic business accounts. It was Ariadne, too, who and been there to advise and instruct Serenity on the mysteries of the transition from girlhood to womanhood.
And it was Ariadne who best understood Serenity's inchoate longing for a real family. She longed to experience for herself the intimate closeness of a mother, father, and child.
“When you meet him, you'll see what I mean,” Serenity said.
Ariadne pondered that with elevated brows. “This is serious, isn't it?”
“I hope so.” Serenity loved Ariadne like an aunt, but it was hard to talk to her about men. Ariadne was the most asexual human being she had ever met. Apparently, she really had transcended the man-woman thing. “How's the cookbook going?”
Ariadne sighed but she didn't try to pursue the subject of Caleb. “I'm finishing off the bean and pasta dishes. Jessie's completed the illustrations. They're spectacular. The finished manuscript should be ready to go to the printers in another couple of weeks.”
“Good.” Serenity opened a sack of lentils, hoisted it onto her hip and poured the contents into an open barrel. “That means we'll have copies ready when the first edition of the catalog goes out. We'll be able to advertise it.”
“Do you really think this mail order thing is going to work?”
“I'm sure of it.” Serenity grinned. “How can it miss? We've got the best start-up consultant in the business on our team.”
“I suppose it's much too late to advise you to keep your relationship with him strictly business'?”
“Since when has anyone in Witt's End understood the meaning of the words ‘strictly business’?”
“I was afraid of that.”
Serenity glanced at the clock as she folded the empty sack. “I'd better change for the trip. Time for me to step into the nearest phone booth and emerge as Miss Town and Country.”
Two hours later Serenity sat forward in the passenger seat of Caleb's green Jaguar and watched with delight as Ventress Valley came into view. Acres of well-tended farmlands, vineyards, and cattle ranches were spread out across a gently rolling landscape. There were more pickups than sedans on the roads. Tractors rumbled across open fields.
The small town of Ventress Valley consisted of a collection of hardware and feed stores, churches, cafés, and the occasional tavern. The shop windows displayed denim overalls, plaid shirts, and Stetson hats.
“This is where you grew up?” Serenity asked as Caleb drove down the main street. “It looks like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.”
“Rockwell had a convenient way of not showing what really goes on beneath the surface of a small town like this,” Caleb said. There was no trace of emotion in his voice. “I used to dream about getting out of this place. I left the summer I graduated from high school.”
“Where's your grandfather's house?”
“About two miles on the other side of town.”
“You're sure your family is expecting me?” Aware that she had never quite gotten the hang of passing as conventional, Serenity had packed carefully for the trip. She didn't want to embarrass Caleb in front of his relatives.
She was wearing a selection of incredibly dull items from what she thought of as her Miss Town & Country collection. Figuring out how to dress without raising eyebrows in the outside world had been a problem for her until she had hit upon the brilliant notion of buying entire outfits out of catalogs. That way, she assured herself, she couldn't go wrong. Left to her own devices, she tended to run afoul of subtle fashion concepts that she had never fully grasped.
The suits she had worn to Seattle during the weeks she'd been meeting with Caleb had all come from a catalog that claimed to cater to women who preferred the “classic, tailored style.” The outfit she had on today was from the same catalog. She felt reasonably confident that she looked suitably normal in it.
For today's journey into the unknown wilds of middle America, Serenity had selected a pair of cuffed, wool gabardine trousers in a subdued camel color. She had paired the pants with a cream silk shirt. Her tasteful gold-toned earrings had been shown on the same page of the catalog as the trousers and shirt, so Serenity knew they were correct.
“I called the house this morning and talked to Dolores,” Caleb said. “She'll make sure one of the guest rooms is made up for you.”
“Who's Dolores?”
“My grandfather's housekeeper. She and her husband Harry have been with Roland for over fifteen years. Harry takes care of the stables.”
Serenity watched, fascinated, as the doors of a quaintly steepled church opened to reveal a wedding party. Bridesmaids dressed in pastel pink spilled out onto the steps. The bride, wearing a traditional veil and a billowing white gown emerged, laughing. The groom, looking a little awkward in his formal attire, grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a gaily decorated car. The guests hurled rice.
“What a pretty sight. Do you know those people over there?” Serenity pointed toward the church.
Caleb glanced briefly at the wedding group. “I don't recognize the bride, but the groom looks like Chuck Jackson. He was a couple of years behind me in high school. He took over his father's feed store after he graduated.”
Serenity smiled wistfully. “Did you go through a high school graduation ceremony?”
“Sure.” He gave her a surprised look. “Didn't you?”
“Not exactly. I was home-schooled.”
Caleb frowned. “By who?”
“By virtually everyone in Witt's End. I learned something from all of them, even Blade. It must have worked, because I breezed through the college entrance exams.” Serenity chuckled. “But I wanted a real high school graduation so badly I could taste it. So Witt's End gave me one.”
“Just for you?”
“Yep. Ariadne sewed a cap and gown for me. Montrose played the entrance march. Everyone was there. Quinton gave a very inspiring speech about the future of mathematical planes and the universe in general which none of us understood. The best part was that I got all the awards. No competition, you see.”
Caleb slanted her a curious glance. “Sounds a little strange.”
“Don't laugh. I even got to be valedictorian.”
“No kidding.”
Serenity slanted him an uncertain glance. “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
She sensed that he was lying, but she decided not to pursue it. Her instincts told her that if she pushed for an explanation, he would continue to deny that there was a problem.
Caleb had become more taciturn and remote with every mile they had covered since leaving Witt's End. The closer to Ventress Valley they got, the colder and more withdrawn he became.
Serenity was beginning to wonder if she had made a mistake in agreeing to accompany him on the family visit.
Two nights ago in the hot glow of passion, everything had seemed crystal clear for a time. But today she was forced to acknowledge that her relationship with Caleb was as obscured as ever by a dense fog of emotional confusion.
“I'll bet you've changed your mind about Ventress Valley now that you've been away from it for several years,” Serenity said.
“No, as a matter of fact, I haven't. I still hate the place.”
She slid a glance toward his granite profile. He looked as if he were preparing to go into battle. “It's your hometown. You were born and raised here. Don't t
ell me that you don't wax nostalgic about it once in a while.”
“It can sink into the darkest part of Hell as far as I'm concerned. I wouldn't miss it for a second.”
Serenity was baffled by the sweeping ease with which he consigned his entire hometown to the nether regions. “What, exactly, do you dislike about it so much?”
“Forget it.”
“Did something terrible happen to you here?”
“No.”
“Then why do you hate the place?”
“Let it go, Serenity.” Caleb turned off the main highway onto a narrow, blacktopped road. “I shouldn't have said anything. I don't want to discuss Ventress Valley or my all-American boyhood.”
Serenity crossed her arms and sank back into the seat. “Understood. My, this is certainly turning out to be a fun trip. I can't thank you enough for inviting me along. When did you say we could leave?”
Caleb's hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Damn. Look, I didn't mean to snap at you. I don't know why I did that. I never lose my temper.”
“Hah. Don't give me that bull. I've seen you lose your temper often enough.” She spotted a large, gracious, old-fashioned house in the distance and immediately forgot about the argument she was having with Caleb. “Good grief, is that your home?”
“It's my grandfather's house. I was raised in it. I don't think of it as home.”
“You're right. It's more like a mansion. It looks like it should be listed in a historic register.”
The house dominated a landscape of wide green lawns and tall trees. Verandas wrapped around both the upper and lower stories. In the distance sleek horses grazed behind pristine white pasture fences.
“You said that your grandfather breeds horses?” Serenity peered, fascinated, through the windshield.
“Arabians.”
“Talk about tradition.” She laughed. “Can you ride?”
“Yes.”
“I would have been green with envy if I'd known you when I was twelve. That was the year I wanted a pony.”
“I take it you didn't get one?”
“No. Julius got me a wonderful dog instead.” Serenity smiled. “Look, a genuine barn.”