The Wedding In White Read online

  Maybe it was just as well. He couldn't marry her. There were too many strikes against them. But he didn't like the idea of her with that gambler. Or any other man...

  He cursed his hateful memory and put the pencil down. Natalie ran like a golden thread through so much of his life. In recent years, she'd been involved in just about everything that went on at the ranch. She rode with him and Vivian, she came to parties, barbecues, cattle sales. She was always around. Now he wouldn't see her come running up the steps, laughing in that unaffected way she had. She wouldn't flirt with him, chide him, lecture him. He was going to be alone.

  He got up and went to the liquor cabinet. He seldom drank, but he kept a bottle of aged Scotch whiskey for guests. He poured himself a shot and threw it down, enjoying the hot sting of it as it washed down his throat. He couldn't remember a time when he'd felt so powerless. He looked at the bottle and carried it to the desk. As an afterthought, he locked the door.

  Vivian couldn't sleep. She got up and washed her face, careful of the broken objects she'd dashed against walls in her rage. She kept remembering Mack's face when she'd told him about Natalie and Whit. She'd never seen such an expression.

  It bothered her enough to go looking for him. He wasn't in his room or anywhere upstairs. Walking slowly, because it was difficult to walk and breathe at the same time despite the antibiotic, she made it to the door of his study. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. Mack never locked the door.

  She hesitated, but only for a moment. She combined the look on his face with his strange behavior and the way he'd held Natalie when they'd danced at the nightclub, and with trembling hands she went to the intercom panel and called the foreman.

  "I want you to come up here right now," she said after identifying herself. "Haven't we got a man who does locksmithing part-time?"

  "Yes, ma'am," he said.

  "Bring him, too. And hurry!"

  "Yes, ma'am!"

  She sat down in the hall chair, biting her lip. It had been a lie that she'd seen Natalie and Whit together, but they both looked as if they'd been kissing. And Whit hadn't denied it. But if Mack was in love with Natalie, which was becoming a disturbing possibility, she might have caused a disaster. Despite Glenna's persistence, Mack had never behaved as if he couldn't live without her. But the way he watched Natalie, the way he'd held her on the dance floor, the way his gaze followed her...oh, God, let those men hurry!

  It seemed like an eternity before the doorbell sounded. She went as quickly as she could to answer it.

  "I want you to unlock this door," she told the man beside the foreman.

  "Can't you use the key?" he asked, clearly hesitant.

  "I don't have the key. Mack does, and he's locked himself in there." She wrapped her arms over her thick bathrobe. "Please," she said in an uncharacteristic request for help. Gone was the autocratic manner. "There's been some...some trouble. He's in there. He won't answer me."

  Without a word, the locksmith took out his leather packet of tools and went to work. In short order, he had the door unlocked.

  "Wait," she said when they started to open it. "Wait here. I'll call you if I need you." She didn't want to expose her brother to gossip if there was no need.

  She went inside and closed the door. The sight that met her eyes was staggering. It made her shiver with guilt. Mack was lying facedown on the desk, a nearly empty whiskey bottle overturned at his hand. Mack never drank to excess; the memory of his father's alcoholism stopped him.

  She went to the door and opened it just a crack. "He's just asleep. Thank you for your trouble. You can go."

  "Are you sure, Miss Killain?" the foreman asked.

  "Yes," she said confidently. "I'm sure."

  "Then, good night. We'll come back if you need us."

  Both men left. Vivian curled up in the big chair beside the desk and sat there all night with her brother. For the first time in her life, she realized how self-absorbed she'd become.

  In the morning, very early, he woke up. He sat, dizzy, and scowled when he saw his sister curled in her robe in the big chair by the desk. He swept back his hair and surveyed the remains of the whiskey.

  "Viv?" he called roughly. "What the hell do you think you're doing down here?"

  She opened her eyes, still very sick. "I was worried about you," she said. "You never drink."

  He held his head. "I never will again, I can promise you," he said wryly.

  She uncurled and got slowly to her feet. "Are you all right?"

  His shoulder moved jerkily. "I'm fine. How about you?" She managed a smile. "I'll get by."

  His face locked up tight. "We were both bad judges of character," he said.

  "About what I said last night," she began earnestly. "I ought to tell you—''

  He held up a big hand, and his face was hard with distaste. "They deserve each other," he said flatly. "You know I go around with Glenna," he added. "I don't want a long-term relationship, least of all with a penniless, fickle, two-timing orphan!"

  She felt two inches high. She did blame Natalie, but she had a terrible feeling that Mack would never recover. It would take her a while to get over Whit's betrayal, as well. But she felt guilty and ashamed for making matters worse.

  "Maybe they couldn't help it," she said heavily.

  "Maybe they didn't want to," he returned. He got to his feet. "And that's all I'll ever say on the matter. I don't want to hear her name mentioned in this house ever again."

  "All right, Mack."

  He looked at the whiskey bottle with cold distaste before he dropped it into the trash can by the desk.

  "Let's get you back upstairs," he told Viv with a smile. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you."

  She slid her arm around his waist. "You're my brother. I love you."

  He kissed her forehead and hugged her close. "Thanks." She shrugged. "We're Killains. We're survivors."

  "You bet we are. Come on."

  He put her back to bed and went to see about the animals in the barn. He didn't think about the night before. And when Bob and Charles came home, nothing of what had happened was mentioned. But Vivian managed to get them alone long enough to warn them not to talk about Natalie at all in front of Mack.

  "Why not?" Bob wanted to know, puzzled. "She's like family."

  "Sure she is," Charles emphasized. "We all love her."

  Vivian couldn't meet their eyes. "It's a long story. She's done something to hurt me and Mack. We don't want to talk about it, okay?"

  They were reluctant, but she persuaded them. If she could only persuade her conscience that she was the wronged party. She couldn't forget what Whit had said to her. Natalie had been her only best friend for years. Was it realistic that Natalie would make a play for her boyfriend? She had for Carl, all those years ago, Vivian thought bitterly, and then she remembered that Carl had only been dating Natalie for a bet. She'd known, and she hadn't told Natalie because she was jealous of her relationship with Carl. In hindsight, she began to see how painfully unfair she'd been. Her whole life had been one of pampered security. Natalie hadn't had the advantages Vivian had, but she'd never been envious or jealous of Vivian. Remembering that made Vivian feel even more guilty. But it was too late to undo the damage. If Whit was telling the truth, everyone would know it soon, because Natalie would be seen going around with him. Then, Vivian told herself, she'd be vindicated.

  But it didn't happen. In fact, Whit was seen with the daughter of a local contractor who had plenty of money and liked to gamble. They were the talk of the town, so soon after Whit's visible break with Vivian.

  As for Natalie, she'd gone home the night of the uproar and, surprisingly, slept all night and most of the morning after she cried herself to sleep. She barely made it to the grocery store in time to work her shift. She was grateful for the job, because it took her mind off the painful argument with Mack and the vicious tongue-lashing Vivian had given her. For the first time in years, she really did feel like an orphan. She was wor
ried about how her exams would be graded, as well, and about graduation. It seemed that the weight of the world had fallen on her over the weekend. Worst of all, of course, was Mack's anger. Perhaps she'd provoked it, but the pain was terrible.

  Chapter 8

  Natalie received her grades from the registrar the following week, and she laughed out loud with relief when she saw that she'd passed all her subjects. She would graduate, after all.

  But as her classmates placed their orders for tickets to the baccalaureate service and the graduation exercises, Natalie realized with a start that she had no one to get tickets for. None of the Killains were speaking to her, and she had no family. She would have nobody to watch her graduate.

  It was a painful realization. She went through the rehearsals and picked up her cap and gown, but without much enthusiasm. No one would have known from her bright exterior that she was unhappy. Even at work, she pretended that she was on top of the world.

  She saw Dave Markham briefly before her big day. They hadn't had much contact since her student teaching stint had been over, and she'd missed his pleasant company.

  "I hear through the grapevine that you're graduating," he told her, tongue in cheek, as he waited at the grocery store for her to check out his groceries.

  She grinned. "So they say. It's really a relief. I wondered during exams if I was going to pass everything."

  "Everyone goes through that," he assured her. "Finals in your senior year are enough to cause a nervous breakdown." He studied her quietly as she bent over the computer keyboard after she'd scanned his purchases into the machine. "There's another rumor going around."

  She stopped, her head lifting. "Which is?"

  He grimaced. "That you've had a split with the Killains," he continued. "I didn't believe it, though. You and Vivian have been friends for years."

  "Sadly," she said, "it's true." She drew in a long breath as she gave him his total, then waited for him to count out the amount and give it to her.

  He waited while she finalized the transaction before he spoke again, taking the sales slip automatically. "What happened? Can you tell me?"

  She called for one of the grocery boys to come and help her bag his purchases before she turned to him. "I'd rather not, Dave," she said honestly. "It hurts to talk about it."

  "That's why it hurts, because you haven't opened up." His eyes narrowed. "I hear Whit Moore's going around with a new girl and Vivian's quit taking classes at the vocational school."

  That was news. "Did she?" She couldn't really blame her former best friend for that decision, of course. It wouldn't have been easy for her to go back into one of Whit's classes after they'd broken up in such a terrible way. She wondered if he'd ever been honest with Vivian about what had happened that night and decided that he probably hadn't. It was a major misunderstanding that might never be cleared up, and Natalie missed not only her former friend, but the boys, as well. She missed Mack most of all. She supposed that he'd heard all about it from Vivian. She'd hoped that he wouldn't believe his sister, but that was a forlorn hope. Natalie had never, in her acquaintance with the other girl, known her to tell Mack a deliberate lie.

  "Mrs. Ringgold asks about you all the time," Dave added, trying to cheer her up. "She said she hopes you'll come and teach at our school in the fall, if there's an opening. So do I. I miss having you to talk to."

  She remembered his hopeless love and smiled with fellow feeling. "Maybe I'll do just that," she said.

  The bag boy came to sack his groceries, another customer pushed a cart up behind him, and the brief conversation was over. He left with a promise to call her and she went back to work, trying to put what she'd learned out of her mind. She wished Mack would call, at least, to give her a chance to explain the misunderstanding. But he didn't. And after Vivian's fierce hostility, she was nervous about phoning the house at all. She hoped that things would work themselves out, if she was patient.

  Late afternoon on the Thursday before baccalaureate exercises Friday night, she walked out of the bank after depositing her paycheck and ran right into Mack Killain.

  It was the first time she'd seen him since the day she'd had the falling out with Vivian. He moved away from her, and the look he gave her was so contemptuous, so full of distaste, that she felt dirty. That was when she realized that Vivian must have told Mack what she thought Natalie and Whit had done. It was painfully obvious that Mack wasn't going to listen to an excuse. She'd never imagined that he would look at her like that. The pain went all the way to her soul.

  "How could you do that to Vivian, to your best friend?" he asked coldly.

  "Do...what?" she faltered.

  "You know what!" he thundered. "You two-timing, lying, cheating little flirt. He must be crazy. No man in his right mind would look twice at you."

  Her mouth fell open. Her heart raced. Her mouth was dry as cotton. "Mack..."

  "You had us all fooled," he continued, raising his voice and not minding who heard. Several people did. "Vivian trusted you! And while she was in bed with pneumonia, you were making out with the man she loved!"

  Natalie wanted to go through the sidewalk. Her eyes brimmed over with tears. "I didn't!" she tried to defend herself, almost choking on the words.

  "There's no use denying it. Vivian saw you," he said with magnificent contempt. "She told me."

  It was a lie, but he believed it. Maybe he wanted to believe it. He'd said that they had no future together, and this would make the perfect excuse for him to push her out of his life. Nothing she said was going to make any difference. He simply did not want her, and he was making it clear.

  She'd thought the pain was bad before. Now it was unbearable.

  "All of us trusted you, made you part of our family. And this is how you repaid us, by betraying Vivian, who never did anything to hurt you." His tone was vicious, furious. "Not only that, Natalie, you didn't even try to apologize for it."

  She lifted her face defiantly. "I have nothing to apologize for," she said in a husky, hoarse tone.

  "Then we have nothing to say to each other, ever again," he replied harshly.

  "Mack, if you'd just let me try to explain," she said, hoping for a miracle. "Calm down and talk to me."

  "I am calm," he said in an icy tone. "What did you expect, anyway? A proposal of marriage?" He laughed bitterly. "You know where I stand on that issue. And even if I were in the mood for it, it wouldn't be with a woman who'd sell me out the minute the ring was on her finger. You went to him afterward," he gritted, "and you as much as told me you were going to. But if you think I'm jealous, honey, you're dead wrong. You were Vivian's friend, but I never wanted you hanging around my house. I tolerated you for Vivian's sake."

  "I see." Her face was white and she was aware of pitying, embarrassed looks around her, because he was eloquent.

  He hardened his heart, bristling with wounded pride as he looked at her, furious at his own weakness. Well, never again. "Which reminds me, Natalie," he added coldly, "I suppose it goes without saying that you're not welcome at the ranch anymore."

  She lifted her eyes to his hard face and nodded slowly. "Yes, Mack," she said in a subdued tone. "It does go without saying."

  Her heart was breaking. She turned away from that accusing, contemptuous gaze and walked briskly down the street to get away from him. She didn't know how she was going to bear this latest outrage of Vivian's. It had cost her Mack, whom she loved more than her own life. And he hated her. He hated her!

  The bystanders were still staring at Mack when she was out of sight, but he didn't say a word. He stalked into the bank, noticing that people almost fell over trying to get out of his way. He was furious. After going right out of his arms into Whit's, she'd had the gall to try and deny it, even when Vivian had seen her with Whit! He would never trust his instincts about women again, he decided. If he could be fooled that easily, for that long, he was safer going around with Glenna. She might not be virtuous, but at least she was loyal—in her fashion.

/>   Natalie went home with her heart around her knees. She made supper but couldn't eat it. She'd assumed that Mack was making assumptions. It hadn't occurred to her that Vivian would tell such a lie, or that Mack would believe it. But she'd helped things along by making those remarks to Mack in frustration when he'd put her out of the office after their tempestuous interlude. She hadn't wanted Whit, ever. But nobody would believe that now. She'd lost not only Mack, but the only family she'd known for years. She went to bed and lay awake most of the night, wretched and alone.

  She wondered how she could go on living in the same town with the Killains and see Mack and Vivian and the boys week after week. Did Bob and Charles hate her, too? Was it a wholesale contempt? Vivian had lied. That a woman she'd considered her best friend could treat her so callously hurt tremendously. Perhaps she was doomed to a life without affection. God knew that her aunt, old Mrs. Barnes, had only brought her from the orphanage to be a housekeeper and part-time nurse until the old lady died. No one had ever loved her. She'd wanted Mack to. She'd even thought at odd moments that he did, somehow. But the hatred in his eyes was damning. If he'd loved her, he'd have at least given her the benefit of the doubt.

  But he hadn't. He'd believed Vivian without hesitation. So all her dreams of love eternal had gone up in smoke. There was nothing left except to make a decision about what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She knew immediately that she couldn't stay in Medicine Ridge. She would have to leave. Next week, after graduation, she was going to talk to one of her instructors who'd told her she knew of a job opening in a Dallas school where a relative was principal. Dallas sounded like a nice place to live.

  Natalie marched in with her class to the baccalaureate service, trying not to notice how many of her classmates' whole families had come to see them in their caps and gowns. It was a brief service, held in the college chapel with a guest speaker who was some sort of well-known political figure. Natalie barely heard what went on around her because she was so heartbroken.

  When the service was over, she greeted classmates she knew and drove herself home. The next morning, she got up early to go to the college with her gown for the graduation exercises. She felt very proud of her accomplishment as she marched into the chapel along with her class and waited for her name to be called, for her diploma to be handed out. It would have been one of the best days of her life, if the Killains hadn't been angry with her. As it was, she went through the motions like a zombie, smiling, looking happy for the cameras. But inside, she was so miserable that she only wanted to be alone. The minute the service was over, she went to look for the teacher who'd offered to help her get the Dallas job. And she told her she was interested.