A Marriage of Convenience Read online

  Her father was waiting for her in the deplaning lounge alone. He enveloped her in a bear hug. Sharon closed her eyes and let him hold her as he'd done when she was little. She'd missed him.

  "Honey, it's great to have you here," her father finally said, misty eyed as he released her.

  "Where's Rae?" Sharon asked after they had looked each other over in smiling silence.

  "Oh, she thought it would be better if she just waited at home. She wanted to give us a chance to get reacquainted on the drive out to the ranch."

  As they took the escalator down to reclaim her baggage, Sharon glanced around at the passersby. Everyone, including her father, had a tan.

  "You look great, honey. I can't wait for you to see the ranch. I was telling Rae this morning, I just know you're going to love it," her father said.

  "I still don't believe that Mom agreed to let me come out here," Sharon said to him, noticing his linen shorts and loose print shirt. He had never dressed that way in Philadelphia even in high summer.

  "Well, let's just say that since she canceled our last two Christmas visits and wouldn't allow me to attend your graduation, she knew Charlie Crawford had a lot of ammunition if I chose to take it to court."

  They made small talk as they waited for her luggage to come up on the carousel, and when it did Sharon's father stared in disbelief.

  "Honey, you didn't tell me you were packing for the whole city of Philly," he said dryly, staggering as he lifted one of the overloaded suitcases to the floor.

  "Did I bring too much?" Sharon asked nervously.

  "Nah, whatever gave you that idea."

  "I didn't want to have to buy anything, since I won't have a job."

  "Never you mind, if you want anything you just let me know." Dan Philips suffered from the overcompensation syndrome common to divorced parents and was as free with his checkbook as he was with advice.

  They managed to get the luggage into the trunk of the car with the help of a porter. Sharon rummaged in her purse for her sunglasses as she settled into the passenger seat. It had been raining when she left Philadelphia and here the sun was blinding.

  Her father chatted about the ranch and his fiancée as they exited the airport and crisscrossed the network of freeways on the way out to Glendora. It was mid afternoon, so the commuter traffic Sharon had heard so much about had not yet materialized, but even without it the highways were thronged and intimidating. Sharon had a Pennsylvania driver's license, but she thought it might be a while before she ventured forth on this terrain.

  As they took the Glendora exit her father cleared his throat and said, "Honey, there's something I want to discuss with you before we get there. I didn't mention it in my letters. We just found out yesterday that Rae's son will be coming in for the wedding tomorrow and might be staying on for a while."

  "Oh?" Sharon said, trying to remember what she knew about Rae's son. She had a vague impression that he was older than she was, in his twenties. She knew he'd been in the Army.

  "Yeah, he had a job in Arizona, working in construction for some old service buddy of his, but he got laid off last week. Business isn't so good and they had to let some of the laborers go. I think he had plans to leave when the wedding was over, but Rae talked him into working on the ranch for a bit. I could use the help." Dan glanced over at her. "Truthfully I think his mother would like to keep an eye on him."

  "Why?"

  Her father sighed. "He's had a little trouble readjusting after the Army," he said shortly in a tone that indicated the subject was now closed.

  Sharon filed that away for future reference, turning her attention to the scenery as they drove through the town and upward into the foothills. The houses were landscaped with cactus plants and citrus trees rather than the evergreens that abounded in the eastern suburbs, and this, coupled with the sandy soil and sculptured rock gardens, gave the whole area the aspect of a blooming desert.

  They ascended until the town lay below them and they reached a plateau with a double wrought iron gate. Dan opened it and they drove up a dirt road with corrals on either side. He pointed out the various breeds of the horses to Sharon as they passed. She, who'd never even been on a horse, marveled at how much his life had changed from the one he'd left behind in Philadelphia.

  The stables and bunkhouses were at the back, against the mountain rim and behind a one story house that was shaped like an L, with long shuttered windows and redwood siding. They left the luggage in the car and went up a brick walk that was bordered on either side with pachysandra beds. Sharon shifted her feet nervously while her father opened the front door.

  "Rae, we're here," her father called as they entered.

  A rawboned woman with streaked dark hair entered the cool, air conditioned front hall. She was wearing jeans and a flowered blouse with sandals. She embraced Sharon.

  "Welcome, dear. You're just as pretty as all of your photos. We're so happy to have you with us."

  Sharon smiled and returned the hug, mentally comparing this woman to her mother, who would never have worn such a casual outfit to greet a guest. Rae gave the initial impression of being pleasant and relaxed, which would certainly be a change from the ex-Mrs. Philips, who ran her home and office like a military barracks and dressed in hose and high heels to go to the supermarket.

  "Come inside," Rae said. "You must be hot and tired from your trip. I made some iced tea."

  Sharon followed her father from the hall, past the living room, which was furnished with low sofas and chairs in beige linen and raw cotton, into a kitchen-den combination floored with Mexican tiles and dominated by a fieldstone fireplace. They sat in the breakfast nook and sipped iced tea flavored with lemon and lime slices.

  "Your room is all ready for you," Rae said brightly. “Rosa just changed the linens this morning.''

  "Rosa?" Sharon asked, looking at her father.

  "Our housekeeper. She lives in town with her little girl. She just went home for the day, you'll meet her tomorrow," Rae replied.

  Housekeeper? Sharon thought. Horse ranching must pay better than she'd realized. When her father worked in a Philadelphia office her mother had done the housework.

  "Well," Rae said, standing when they had finished their drinks, "I imagine you'd like a tour, and we'll get your luggage into your room so you can unpack. We want you to feel at home."

  Sharon rose dutifully to follow, noticing Rae's frequent use of the word we. She certainly wanted Sharon to perceive the residents of the house as a team.

  "You can lie down for a while before dinner," Rae continued as they walked down the hall, "so you can be all rested for the evening."

  Sharon felt too keyed up to sleep but was glad for some time alone to sort out her thoughts.

  She followed Rae through the back door to have her first look at the ranch.

  * * * *

  They went to a local restaurant for a welcome celebration that evening, then came home and stayed up talking until almost midnight.

  Sharon decided that she liked her father's future wife, and she could see why Rae got along with Dan Philips. If Dan wanted to go out for dinner, Rae thought that was a great idea. If he fancied Italian food, Rae did, too. And if Dan got the urge to stop off on the way home for milk shakes, Rae applauded the impulse.

  Sharon's parents would have had three fights during the course of the evening and ended it by not speaking to each other. By contrast, this harmony was wonderful. She looked across the den at the two of them side by side on the tweed couch and realized she was glad her father was getting married.

  "I think you'd better get to bed, miss," Dan said to Sharon. "Your eyelids are slipping to half-mast."

  "I'm wide awake," Sharon replied, stifling a yawn.

  Her father was about to reply when the kitchen door opened abruptly. A duffel bag was tossed through the doorway, and then its owner appeared, clad in jeans and a pea-green Army T-shirt, his hair unruly, his skin as brown as a nut. He was wearing two days' growth of stubble and
a Peck's bad boy expression.

  "Hi, Rae," the new arrival said, smiling the crooked smile Sharon would come to know. "Am I still in time for the ceremony?"

  "Tay!" Rae jumped up with a glad cry, embraced him and shot Sharon's father a worried look over her son's shoulder. Sharon, observing the scene, got the message that this was expected to be a problem.

  She studied Tay, wondering why. Her father's vague reference to adjustment difficulties after the Army didn't tell her much.

  He was about eight or ten years older than she was, in his middle to late twenties, with the slow, graceful carriage of a roaming panther. When he walked over to shake her father's hand, his step was controlled and quiet, even though he stood a head taller than the older man and must have weighed nearly as much. Sharon knew the type from her observation of athletes at school. She suspected that he could explode into motion that would dazzle the eye in an instant. His dark gaze moved across the room to her and remained there. He examined her until she became uncomfortable and his mother intervened to say, "Tay, this is Dan's daughter, Sharon. She's staying with us this summer."

  Sharon stood as if called upon in class to give an answer, and Tay walked over to her, looking down into her face. His eyelashes were very long, almost girlish, and he had a tiny mole at the corner of his mouth.

  "Hi," he said briefly and offered his hand as he had to her father.

  Sharon took it, feeling foolish. She had never shaken hands with a man before, and he seemed almost to be mocking her with the gesture, as it only served to emphasize her youth.

  His hand was large and callused. He held her fingers trapped in his while he studied her for a moment, then let her go, turning away as if she were of no consequence.

  "We expected you earlier," his mother said to him.

  "Well, Rae, I got a late start," Tay replied, sitting as his mother gestured to a chair and stretching his long legs before him. He was almost too thin, but not quite. His upper arms were well developed, and the section of his abdomen exposed as his shirt rode up was ribbed with muscle.

  "You must be hungry," Rae said. "Would you like something to eat?"

  "Wouldn't mind," Tay replied.

  Rae was getting up when the door opened and one of the ranch hands burst into the room.

  "Fair Season is about to foal. You folks told me to let you know."

  Dan and Rae both bolted for the door. "That's our prize mare," Dan called as he ran into the night.

  "We've been waiting a week for this," Rae added, hot on his heels. "Help yourself to anything you like, the refrigerator's full," she advised her son before disappearing after her fiancé.

  Tay and Sharon were left to share uncomfortable silence.

  "Did you ever see so much fuss about a horse?'' Tay finally said, shooting her a sidelong glance. "You'd think that mare was giving birth to the Prince of Wales."

  Sharon watched as he sauntered over to the refrigerator and yanked the door open. His shirt was stuck to his back with perspiration and she could make out the column of his spine through the thin cotton. He lifted his hair off his nape with a casual hand and Sharon saw a ring of sunburn there. She looked away.

  He withdrew an apple and turned to face her, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing his legs at the ankle.

  "So," he said, taking a large bite, "how old are you?"

  “Eighteen,'' she replied. " In two weeks.''

  "As much as that?" he said, raising his brows. "I would never have guessed."

  She knew that he was baiting her but wasn't sure how to reply.

  "I suppose they warned you about me," he added.

  Sharon looked down, nonplussed.

  He nodded, pursing his lips. "I thought so. Well, don't worry. I haven't taken to carving up little teenyboppers yet so you're safe."

  "I'm not a teenybopper," she said, annoyed.

  "Oh, no? What are you?" he asked as if genuinely interested, turning the apple and taking another huge bite of it.

  "I guess I'm a...young adult," she replied, using a term from her high school, uncomfortably aware that she sounded juvenile.

  He grinned. "What does that make me? An old adult?"

  "Doesn't your mother mind you calling her 'Rae'?" Sharon asked, trying to change the subject.

  "That's her name," Tay replied, looking away.

  "Why don't you call her 'Mom', or 'Mother'?" she inquired.

  "Who are you, Emily Post?" he countered archly.

  " 'Rae' just doesn't seem very respectful," Sharon said inadequately, flushing.

  "And I can tell that's the type of thing that would concern a proper young lady—excuse me—young adult, like yourself," he said dryly. "Well, don't you worry about it," he continued, tossing the apple core into the garbage. "Rae doesn't need you to look out for her, she can take care of herself." He yanked open a cabinet and pulled out a cellophane packet of cookies. "So tomorrow's the big day, huh?" he said, sticking his thumb through the wrapper and pulling out two creme sandwiches. "Your old man and R— my mother—are going to tie the knot."

  Sharon nodded.

  He popped a cookie into his mouth. "How do you feel about that?"

  "I'm happy for my father. He and my mother never got along, and he seems like a changed man now."

  "My parents got along great," Tay offered, eyeing her steadily. "When my father died, Rae was devastated. I didn't think she'd ever marry again."

  "Oh," Sharon said quietly as Tay bit into the other cookie. "If you'd stop inhaling that junk for a minute, I'll make you something to eat," she added shyly, attempting to gain control of the conversation once more.

  "She cooks," Tay said wonderingly, dusting cookie crumbs from his fingers. "What does she cook?"

  "Anything you like. Are there eggs in the refrigerator?" she asked, walking past him to look inside.

  "Think so."

  "How about an omelet?" Sharon asked, pushing items aside to find what she wanted.

  "Sounds great," Tay replied, watching as she assembled ingredients and went looking for a skillet. It took her a little longer than usual, since she was unfamiliar with the kitchen, but she soon had an omelet simmering in the pan, filling the air with an appetizing aroma.

  "I'm impressed," Tay said, kicking a chair loose from the table legs with his foot and dropping into it.

  "Don't be. My mother works full time. She goes in on weekends sometimes and stays late a lot. It was either learn to cook or starve."

  "I've chosen the starvation option," Tay said. "Nutritionally, anyway. I'm a constant patron of convenience stores and vending machines."

  "It sounds like you need someone to take care of you," Sharon said lightly, dishing up the omelet and putting it on the table before him.

  "You volunteering for the job?" Tay asked casually, not looking up at her.

  Sharon jumped as the outside door opened again and Rae entered.

  "The foal's a beauty," Rae announced, beaming. She stopped short when she saw Tay shoveling in the food.

  "I made him an omelet, I hope you don't mind," Sharon said hastily. "He was hungry. I'll wash the dishes."

  "Don't be silly, sweetie, thanks for pitching in," Rae replied. "And leave the dishes, we'll do them in the morning."

  Sharon said nothing. If she left a spoon in the sink overnight, her mother had a fit.

  "So when's the christening?" Tay asked brightly, glancing at his mother.

  Rae threw him a dirty look. "Make fun if you like. That mare cost us a fortune, and the stud fee was almost as much. We had a big investment riding on this foal."

  "No birth announcements, no knitted booties?" Tay asked dryly, finishing the last of his omelet. "Rae, you're falling down on the job.''

  "You're talking nonsense," his mother said. "Go to bed."

  "Be happy to, if you'd show me where the bed is," Tay replied, shoving his empty plate away from him and standing up.

  "You're sleeping in the bunkhouse out back," Rae said. "The young lady gets the extr
a bedroom."

  "Fine with me," Tay said equably, shouldering his duffel bag.

  "Where's my father?" Sharon asked.

  "He's helping the men clean up. I just came in to call the vet." Rae walked into the living room, patting her son's cheek as she passed. "Sleep tight, sweetheart. See you in the morning."

  Tay nodded, turning to look at Sharon when his mother left.

  "Thanks for the grub," he said.

  "You're welcome."

  He doubled his fist and tapped her lightly on the chin. "Good night, kid," he said softly.

  "Good night," Sharon replied, watching him walk out of the room. She heard the back door close behind him.

  Well, so that was Rae's son, the object of so much concern. Sharon could understand it better now. Although he hadn't done anything particularly unusual that evening, there was an aura of power about him, of danger. It was subtle, but unmistakable.

  She wasn't sure what to think of him.

  * * * *

  Sharon woke to the sounds of bustle and preparation outside her door. When she emerged, belting her bathrobe, she could hear the florists and caterers taking over the living room. Rae's voice dominated. Sharon bypassed the scene and entered the kitchen, where her father was nursing a cup of coffee morosely.

  "I told Rae we should have gone to the justice of the peace," he greeted Sharon. "Did you see that chaos in there?"

  "I'm sure it will be lovely," Sharon said soothingly.

  Dan looked as though he wasn't so sure.

  Sharon went to get a glass of orange juice, and from the window over the sink she saw Tay stacking a pile of bricks on the terrace next to the pool.

  "What's Tay doing?" she said to her father.

  "He's clearing off the patio for this afternoon," her father replied distractedly, wincing at a crash in the next room. He got up to investigate, and Sharon moved closer to the window.

  Tay had removed his shirt, and the morning sun shone fully on his tanned torso as he shifted the stones. A thin stream of perspiration trickled down the middle of his back. Sharon watched for a long moment, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure her father was still occupied before she wandered outside.

  "Good morning," she said to Tay, who looked up from his labors.