Jennifer touched the numerous, brightly colored decorations. “What are these?”
“Porcupine quills. The animals weren’t too plentiful on the plains, so the quills were highly prized. The Blackfeet used to get them in trade from other tribes.”
“It’s a shame they don’t fit you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m considerably bigger than my ancestors,” he said, laying the garments carefully back in the chest. “It must be those French genes.” He stood and tapped his very straight, very European nose. “I think they’re responsible for this, too.”
“You’re part French?”
“My grandmother married a French Canadian trapper, Jacques Beaufort. My parents have a tintype of him back home, a great big guy with a formidable moustache. They say he had a team of sled dogs that could make it through the worst weather British Columbia had to offer, and let me tell you, that’s pretty bad.” He dropped the lid on the chest and came back to her, taking both her hands in his. “I guess I’ve shown you all my treasures, haven’t I?”
“I guess so. You have some solitary hobbies, for a man who could buy anything he wants.”
He tightened his grip on her hands. “I do wind up spending a lot of time alone, but I prefer it that way. Most of the people who like me now, like me for the wrong reasons. I feel most comfortable with the friends who knew me before all this happened, this football jive.” He smiled slightly. “The people who loved you when you had nothing are the people who really care.”
Like Dawn, Jennifer thought miserably. It wasn’t fair. If Jennifer had known him before, she would have loved him just as much. Was it her fault that it was his sports career that brought them together?
Jennifer disengaged herself, stepping back. “Dawn Blacktree told me you were once in love with her sister.”
Lee moved forward, keeping the same distance between them. “Oh, we were all kids together, back home,” he said evasively. “Dawn’s family was very good to me at a time in my life when I really needed help.”
“She’s very pretty,” Jennifer said.
“Yes, she is,” Lee answered, watching Jennifer carefully.
“Is that what her name means in Pikuni, Dawn?”
“The literal translation is ‘Appearing Day.’”
“Appearing Day. How lovely.”
Lee put his hand on her shoulder. “Jen...”
She tried to walk past him. “No. Go get one of the old-timers who really care. I’m one of the late arrivals, remember, the ones who only like you for your image and your money,” she said bitterly.
Lee caught her and pulled her against his chest “I didn’t mean that to include you, paleface,” he whispered. “I never saw anyone as spectacularly unimpressed as you were with the whole scene. I know you’re not like that.”
Jennifer relaxed against him, letting her head fall to his shoulder. His arms enclosed her, strong and warm.
“Kiss me, Jen,” he said huskily. “Just once, and then we’ll leave. I promise.”
He didn’t have to say it again. She was lifting her lips to his as he bent his head.
He broke his promise, kissing her again and again until she was weak and clinging to him for support. He half carried her to the couch, dropping onto it with her, drawing her under him. His mouth moved everywhere he could reach, his hands searching for the zipper at the back of her dress, his body hard and urgent against hers. She knew that if she didn’t stop him soon, she wouldn’t stop him at all.
“Lee,” she gasped, tearing her mouth from his, “We can’t. We have to get back.”
He held her fast, still caressing her. “Do we?” he said, agonized. “Do we?”
“Yes,” she insisted, pulling away from him, trying to modulate her voice and regain control. “Think of Dawn, think of John waiting there for us. It’s bad enough that we took off the way we did, but if we don’t return it will be so much worse. I know I hurt John already tonight, I don’t want to add to it.”
He didn’t answer, but he stood and smoothed his hair with trembling fingers. Then he offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet, releasing her the instant she got her balance.
“Let’s go,” he said shortly, and she followed him out of the room. She passed the draftsman’s table and noticed that he had a map of the heavens pinned to it, with the trajectory patterns of various stars traced on it with a compass. She thought of him sitting there, patiently plotting the courses of celestial bodies and almost burst into tears. She was in a bad way. Even his hobbies were touching, infinitely precious and incredibly dear.
Jennifer walked down the steps behind Lee like a woman who was in a lot of trouble, and knew it.
* * * *
The party was breaking up when they got back to the hotel. It had been a silent ride from Lee’s house, and Jennifer walked in ahead of Lee, looking for Dolores. She didn’t glance back to see where he went.
Dolores and Craig and John were in the lobby. John didn’t ask her anything, just said that he was going out to get his car. Craig went with him.
Dolores pinned her to the wall as soon as the men were out of earshot “Where the hell did you go?” she hissed. “It was not lost on the group at large that the two of you vanished at the same time.”
“What do you mean? Didn’t Lee say where we were going?” Jennifer hedged.
Dolores made a disgusted noise. “I wouldn’t even repeat the threadbare fairy tale he told us before you left. Jennifer, what’s going on?”
“Nothing is going on,” Jennifer said wearily. “He just took me to his house to see some telescopes.”
Dolores looked at her as if she were demented. “Telescopes?”
“Yes, yes, it’s his hobby; he’s an amateur astronomer. He wanted to show me the stars.”
“Show you the stars? Well, that’s original, at least, a new variation on an old theme. It used to be ‘come up and see my etchings,’ now it’s ‘come up and see my asteroids.’”
Jennifer fixed her with a deadly look. “Dolores, for my sake, could you try, just once, not to be such a smartass?”
Dolores stared at her, releasing her breath slowly in an inaudible sigh. “Oh, Jen, you poor thing. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
Jennifer said nothing.
“Please, be careful.”
“I’m trying.”
Dolores dropped her eyes. “Well, I guess that’s all you can do.”
The men came back, and Jennifer went with John.
He was silent as they drove through the downtown streets toward Yardley, and Jennifer began to feel that if he didn’t say something soon, she was going to scream.
“Did you have a good time?” she asked brightly.
“Fine.”
“I hope Dolores kept you entertained while I was gone.”
“Dolores could keep anybody entertained, even a dull, unglamorous legal type like me.”
“John, I…”
He took one hand off the steering wheel to hold it up for silence. “Don’t say it, Jennifer. Don’t demean yourself, and me. You think I can’t see what he has, that I don’t? I know what’s going on, give me that much credit at least. If you had ever once looked at me the way you were looking at him tonight, we would have been married long ago. Just drop it, okay?”
Jennifer dropped it.
* * * *
The night had turned cool, in the manner of late summer, and Jennifer built a fire when she got home. She was too keyed up to sleep and didn’t even undress, but made herself a cup of tea and curled up on the living room sofa to think.
The trouble was, she couldn’t think. All her legal training in logic and the systematic breakdown of a problem had deserted her and left her mind as blank as an unused sheet of paper. What good was an education if you couldn’t use it to help yourself? She had used it to help others, but in her case, emotion took over and made a mockery of the rationality she had worked so hard to obtain.
She lifted her head when she heard the sound of a motor in her driveway. Mrs. Mason went to bed at ten o’clock and never had night visitors. Who could it be, at this hour?
And then she knew. A hollow grew at the pit of her stomach, and she set her cup down carefully, so as not to spill it. She made herself walk slowly to the door and was ready when the knock came.