And it wasn’t as if she didn’t have enough problems of her own to occupy her. Tomorrow Morey would call, expecting her response to the contract they had been offered. Did she want to return to her life in New York? Did she want to become the Rana again? Wouldn’t that be safer than falling in love with Trent? Was it wise to trade one set of problems for another? How many ways could a heart be broken?
No matter what her final decision, one thing remained certain: She must stay away from Trent. Starting tomorrow.
Five
When Trent came by the following morning for their run, she pretended not to hear his knock. Eventually he went out alone, and Rana breathed a sigh of relief. And disappointment. She had come to look forward to their morning jogging.
Carefully she pressed the wrap skirt she’d been working on, arranged it on a hanger, and covered it with a plastic bag. In all modesty she thought it was her best work, and hoped that it would meet with Mrs. Rutherford’s approval.
Getting dressed didn’t require near the time it once had. She washed her hair, but left it to dry on its own. She smoothed some moisturizing lotion on her tanned face- her mother had never let her swim or play on the beach when she was a child, because she didn’t want Rana’s skin to suffer the damaging effects of the sun-but left it free of makeup. She put on the blue-tinted eyeglasses and dressed in a shapeless, mud-colored sack dress, which she didn’t even belt. Barry would be horrified. She went downstairs to eat a quick breakfast before leaving.
“Have you seen Trent this morning?” Ruby asked as she poured Rana a cup of coffee. Rana noticed that Ruby was moving carefully and wincing at any loud sound. Rana hid a secret smile behind her china coffee cup.
“No. Why?”
“He’s in an awful mood. I thought maybe he clued you in while you were jogging.”
“I didn’t run this morning, because I was getting ready to go to Houston. I haven’t seen him.”
“Well, he’s swelled up like a bullfrog. He came stamping in a few minutes ago from his run and wearing a face like a thundercloud. He went straight up to his room without even stopping to drink his fruit juice.”
“Hm,” Rana said noncommittally as she buttered a piece of toast. “Got up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess.”
Was he pouting because she hadn’t jogged with him? In some ways he was such a child. His childish streak aroused her maternal instincts, and she found herself smiling at this latest tantrum. But she immediately squashed that emotion, as she had all the others. She couldn’t allow herself to feel anything for Trent. Where he was concerned, she had to be in an emotional vacuum.
“I’ve got to get on the road, Ruby,” she said,, hastily finishing her breakfast. “Don’t look for me until late this afternoon.
“Good luck with your business, dear. And please drive carefully. The freeways are treacherous.”
“I’ll be careful.” She kissed Ruby’s cheek and left the house by way of the back door.
The detached garage, located on one side of thebackyard, had been an addition to the original house. Rana was glad to see that Trent ‘s sports car was parked behind Ruby’s, so it wouldn’t be necessary for her to ask him to move it. She hung the skirt on the hook in the backseat of her compact and climbed behind the steering wheel.
At first she thought nothing of the chugging, choking sound of the car’s motor. It was always reluctant to start. But after several unsuccessful attempts to pump the engine to life, she began cursing it. The garage was airless and stifling, even this early in the day. She tried again, becoming more frustrated every second. She wasn’t on a tight schedule, but she had to get to Houston today.
“Damn!” she cried, banging her fist on the steering wheel. Barry would have a fit if she failed to deliver the skirt today.
She retraced her steps to the back door. “Ruby,” she called out, “is there bus service between Galveston and Houston?” She entered the kitchen to find Trent munching on a piece of crisp bacon. Ruby was holding an ice pack to her head as she sipped coffee.
The landlady put down the ice pack. “I thought you’d gone, dear.”
Resolutely Rana kept her eyes away from Trent, who was dressed in a sport shirt and slacks. There was a lightweight sport jacket draped over the back of his chair. “My car won’t start. I’ll have to take a bus to Houston. Where can I catch one?”
“I’m going to Houston today. I’ll drive you,” Trent said.
“What a dear boy,” Ruby said, smiling fondly at her nephew. “Sit down, Rana, and have another cup of coffee.”
“But,” Rana protested, wetting her lips, “I really need to go alone.”
She couldn’t take Trent into Barry’s store with her. Barry might blurt out something that would give her away. All night she had toyed with the idea of having Morey accept that contract. If she went back to work, she would avoid the heartache of getting more deeply involved with Trent. But if she made that decision, she wanted simply to disappear. She never wanted him to know she wasn’t the plain Miss Ana Ramsey he thought her to be. If he ever found out about her other life, he would be furious with her for deceiving him.
“I’m probably going miles out of your way,” she said discouragingly.
“Where do you need to go?”
“The Galleria.”
“Fine,” he said, with a “that’s settled” nod of his head. “I’ve got to see a doctor about my shoulder. His office is near there. Are you ready?” he asked, standing up.
“Really, I can’t trouble you,” she said quickly, desperately.
“Look,” he said, pulling his coat off the chair with an irritated yank, “I’ve got to go anyway. It would be crazy for you to try to get around Houston in a damn bus. Now, do you want to ride with me or not?”
No, she didn’t want to. But realistically, she didn’t have much ‘choice. Lowering her head, she mumbled, “Thank you, yes, I’ll ride with you.”
They said their good-byes to Ruby, who repeated her instructions to drive carefully. In Trent ’s sports car, Rana folded the skirt in her lap.
“Sorry about that,” he said, glancing down. “There’s no place to hang it.”
“It will be all right.”
That was the extent of their conversation until they were halfway to Houston. Then she ventured to ask, “How is your shoulder?”
“Why didn’t you run with me this morning?”
“I didn’t have time. I was getting ready for my trip to Houston.”
“And you couldn’t bother to tell me that?”
“I must have been in the shower when you came by. I didn’t hear your knock.”
“I didn’t hear the shower running, either.”
“Are you in the habit of listening at my door?”
“Are you in the habit of lying?”
They lapsed into another turbulent silence, interrupted only by Trent ’s muttered curses at the sluggish Houston traffic.
After several minutes Rana became ashamed of both of them for behaving in such a snippish, juvenile way. “How is your shoulder?” she asked again.
“I don’t understand you, Ana,” he shouted, as though he’d been sitting there fuming, waiting for the right moment to vent his anger, just as he waited for opportunities to whip his car around motorists driving too slowly to suit him. “You were justified in being mad at me when I kept coming on to you. So, all right, you slapped my hand and I admitted that I deserved it. I thought we were going to be friends, but you never lighten up. I never know where I stand with you. You’re stiff and unbending and uptight. It’s no surprise to me that your husband split and that you don’t have any friends.”
He guided the sleek car into one of the lanes leading to the massive shopping complex. “You can let me out here,” Rana said tightly, her lips barely moving. She already had a grip on the door handle.