The Widow and the Wastrel Read online

  "Not fulfilling exactly, but that was a qualification Elizabeth made silently. "All the activities keep me busy," she defended. "And I enjoy the charity work. It's very rewarding helping deserving people."

  "Deserving by whose standards? My mother's?" He punctuated the words with a short, derisive laugh.

  "I think you've become harder and more cynical than she is," Elizabeth observed.

  "What about you? Are you becoming like her? Don't you think you'll ever desire the warmth and companionship of a man's love?"

  "I haven't thought about it." She was suddenly wary, not liking the subject change from his mother to her.

  "Don't you think you would miss not having a man's arms around you again?" Jed continued his pursuit of the subject.

  Her chin was raised upward to a defiant angle. "I doubt it," she replied. "I was raised by a maiden aunt. Jeremy was killed so soon after we were married that I never really became accustomed to a man's attention. I think I can get along quite well without one."

  "Do you?" responded Jed with a faint challenge.

  The instant he started walking toward her, Elizabeth backed away. Her defiant bravado was driven out by the sudden fear that he might try to test her assertion.

  He stopped and chuckled softly. "I was just going to get myself another cup of coffee," he explained, letting his amusement show. "Did you think I was going to challenge your statement and demand physical proof?"

  "Earlier—" she began to remind him, with mistrust flashing in her eyes.

  "What happened earlier was a fleeting impulse." His expression was uncompromisingly hard. "I may have said that I found you desirable, Liza, but I don't desire you. There's a vast difference. So you don't need to fear any unwanted advance. I don't intend to touch you again."

  Jed's statement was made so emphatically that Elizabeth was forced to believe him. His rejection of her as a woman was more of a blow to her self-esteem than she had thought. She should be rejoicing, but instead a strange depression was settling in.

  "Don't you feel relieved, little sister?" His soft voice insinuated itself into her astonishment.

  "O-of course." She turned away, running a nervous hand through her ebony curls, pushing them behind her ear as she sought for her cool poise. "Immensely so."

  "That's what I thought you'd say," he murmured.

  "Help yourself to the coffee. I have some work to do." She avoided looking directly at him as she made her exit, from the kitchen, grateful that she had the excuse of reading the plays to be alone for a while.

  Chapter Three

  "PUT the roast at the head of the table, Elizabeth," Rebecca instructed. "Since Jed is here, he can carve it."

  As she started to transfer the platter of meat to the opposite end of the table, Jed appeared in the dining room archway. He was wearing the same white shirt and brown slacks as before.

  "I'm honored, Mother, that you've put me at the head of the table," he commented in a faintly derogatory tone, letting them know that he had overheard their conversation from the hallway.

  "The eldest male Carrel always sits at the head of the table," Rebecca responded curtly. "In this case, it happens to be the only male Carrel." Her dark gaze ran over his casual attire. "We can delay serving for a few minutes while you change. I'm sure you must have forgotten that we always dress for dinner."

  "I hadn't forgotten." Jed continued into the room, drawing the end chair where Elizabeth stood away from the table. "Unfortunately I couldn't fit my white tie and tails into my duffle bag."

  "Don't exaggerate," his mother snapped. "A simple suit is sufficient."

  "There wasn't room for one of those either. You’ll have to take me the way I am," Jed stated, reaching for the carving knife and fork that Elizabeth had placed near the platter.

  Rebecca pursed her tips together in displeasure, but said nothing in response. Waving an imperious hand at Elizabeth and Amy to be seated, she took the chair at the opposite end of the table from Jed.

  "By the way," he laid a perfectly sliced cut of meat on to Amy's plate, "where's Maggie? Is this her day off?"

  Maggie Connor had been a cook-housekeeper to the Carrel family for years, an almost permanent fixture in the house when Elizabeth had married Jeremy.

  "She has retired. After your father died," his mother explained. "We no longer entertained, so there was no point in retaining her for just the three of us. Your father provided a generous annuity for her in his will and I let her go."

  "This meal looks very tasty," Jed observed. "Who does the cooking now? You, Mother?"

  "Elizabeth does for the most part, although I occasionally lend a helping hand."

  Only Elizabeth knew how rare that helping hand was. Not that she objected. She preferred having the kitchen to herself.

  "A Carrel who cooks?" The tawny gaze slid mockingly to her, dancing over her face when she quickly averted her green eyes. "How did you learn such a skill, Liza?"

  Elizabeth found it was difficult to respond naturally. She felt on the defensive and she didn't know whether to blame his taunting mockery or the hated abbreviation of her name. Perhaps it was simply an inability to feel at ease in Jed's presence.

  "Actually I learned to cook as a child," she answered stiffly. "My aunt thought it was essential for me to learn, so I fixed a great many of our meals. After Jeremy and I were married, I naturally helped Maggie in the kitchen so I could learn how to prepare his favorite dishes. Later I simply helped out."

  "Maggie's age was beginning to show at last," Rebecca inserted. "She was becoming increasingly slow and haphazard in her work. It was best that she retired when she did."

  "Wasn't Maggie a year or two younger than you, Mother?" questioned Jed, a sharp glitter in his eyes.

  "I really don't have any idea," his mother bridled visibly.

  "Do you do the housework too, Elizabeth?"

  The faint emphasis he placed on her proper name made it even more difficult to tolerate than the nickname. "Not all of it, no."

  "We have a young girl come in two or three times a week to take care of the general cleaning and the washing," Rebecca explained.

  "I like Mary," Amy spoke up, adding in a faintly adult note. "She's very nice."

  "Do the Reisners still own the farm down the road?" Jed asked.

  "Yes, they do. You went to school with Kurt, didn't you?" His mother glanced up to receive his answering nod. "He's taken over the farm from his father and his parents have moved into town. Why?"

  "I thought I would stop over to see them tonight, that is,' there was a falsely courteous inclination of his tobacco brown head toward his mother, "if you'll let me use the car."

  "There's a set of spare keys in the china cabinet," she agreed.

  Elizabeth had to restrain herself from audibly sighing in relief. She hadn't been looking forward to an evening of stilted conversation. Despite the appearance of polite discussion, the atmosphere between mother and son was decidedly hostile. Her own inclination was to avoid Jed as much as she could. He had delved too deeply into her personal life, asking questions that were none of his business and laughing at her answers. Arm's length was not a far-enough distance.

  The instant the evening meal was over, Jed excused himself and left to visit their neighbors, the Reisners. He hadn't returned by the time Elizabeth went to bed some time after ten o'clock. Although she lay awake in the double bed for nearly an hour, she didn't hear him come back.

  The next morning Elizabeth discovered the coffee was already made when she entered the kitchen. Breakfast dishes for one were washed and sitting in the draining board beside the sink. Rebecca didn't get up that early in the morning, so the dishes could only be Jed's. But there was no sign of him in the house nor in the yard surrounding the house.

  Not until she returned to the kitchen to fix toast and juice for herself did Elizabeth find the note he had left under the bowl of fruit on the small dinette table. Her fingers crossed in a fervent wish that Jed had decided to leave as abruptly
as he had arrived. The boldly firm handwriting informed her that he would not be back for lunch, but made no mention of where he would be in the interim.

  If he had gone visiting, the only logical place he could have gone at this early hour of the morning was to the Reisner farm again, Elizabeth decided. She wasn't aware that he and Kurt had been close friends, but if they had gone to school together, it was possible. The few times she had seen Kurt, he had made no mention of it, although most of the townspeople had been reluctant to introduce Jed's name into a conversation.

  Even though they were neighbors, Elizabeth didn't know Kurt that well. She knew he had been married at one time, but was presently divorced. That information she had gained from his sister Freda, who was a year or two younger than herself. She had liked Freda and would have seen her more frequently socially, except she had sensed that Rebecca would have disapproved of the friendship. Looking back, it seemed a weak reason for not pursuing the relationship. Elizabeth could well imagine Jed's contempt if he ever found out.

  His opinion did not matter to her in the least, she reminded herself. She wished violently that he had never returned. Life had been very smooth. Now she was seeing all kinds of chuckholes in front of her. He was a disruptive influence that she had to learn to ignore to retain her own peace of mind.

  "Good morning, Elizabeth." Rebecca entered the kitchen looking youthfully fresh in a pink satin robe, her silvery blue hair carefully styled and light make-up adding color to her face. "Is there any fresh grapefruit this morning?"

  "Yes, I'll fix it for you." Elizabeth slid back her half-eaten toast and walked to the refrigerator.

  "I see Jed isn't up yet. I suppose he'll sleep until noon," Rebecca sniffed her disapproval of such laziness.

  "Actually he's up and gone." She sliced the grapefruit in half and began running the knife along the skin of each section.

  "How do you know that?"

  "He left a note saying he wouldn't be back for lunch," Elizabeth answered. "He was considerate enough to wash up his breakfast dishes before he left, so he must have been up quite early."

  "Good," Rebecca declared with a wide smile of satisfaction. It took Elizabeth a second to realize that she was commenting on his planned absence that morning rather than the fact that he had cleaned up after himself. "You're going into town this morning, aren't you?"

  "Yes, I have a committee meeting to see how the ticket sales are progressing for the charity dinner at the country club," Elizabeth acknowledged as she set the grapefruit half in front of her mother-in-law.

  Rebecca slipped a manicured hand into the pocket of her robe. There was a faint rustle, then she was handing a slip of paper to Elizabeth.

  "While you're in town, I want you to stop by Shaw's Men's Store. I've made a list of things that Jed needs. The sizes are listed on the right," Rebecca stated. "I'm sure Fred will reopen our account."

  Elizabeth stared blankly at the paper. "But how can you be sure these are the right sizes? I mean…wouldn't it be better to send Jed in himself when he comes back this afternoon?" She stammered slightly. -operate just to be obstinate. As for the sizes," Rebecca paused, "I've already checked to be sure they were correct."

  Glancing from the list to the woman delicately spooning out a grapefruit section, Elizabeth knew without a doubt that her mother-in-law had not questioned Jed. He would have been certain to guess the purpose.

  "Do you mean," she found the question she was about to ask distasteful, "that you went through his things?"

  "He doesn't even have a sports jacket." Rebecca shook her head in arrogant disbelief. "I didn't believe him last night. "After the way he was raised, I was certain he had something decent tucked away in that disreputable bag, so I went through it last night while he was at the Reisners’. I hope he doesn't intend to get too friendly with them."

  For the first time that she could remember, Elizabeth took offence at the faintly snobbish ring in Rebecca's voice. "They're very nice people," she stated firmly.

  Her mother-in-law's mouth opened to comment, then she met the flashing defiance in the green eyes and appeared to change her mind. "I suppose they are," she agreed with marked lack of interest.

  "Excuse me while I go to see what's keeping Amy," Elizabeth murmured, moving away from the colonial style table.

  "Be sure to put that list in your purse so you won't forget it," Rebecca reminded her.

  Fingertips curled around the paper, crackling it slightly. The impulse burned to hand it back to her mother-in-law with the retort to do her own dirty work, but Elizabeth held it back. The animosity in the air since Jed's return was beginning to affect her own outlook.

  "I won't forget," she promised, and walked from the room.

  It was nearly noon when Elizabeth paused beside the store-front. The sign above the canopy read Shaw's Men's Clothing. She wished she hadn't left the cold lunch for Rebecca and Amy before leaving this morning. She would have welcomed an excuse to postpone this errand. Outside a few Christmas gifts for her father-in-law, she had never purchased any clothing for men. During her short marriage, Jeremy had always preferred to choose his own.

  Nervously she ran her fingers along the scalloped neckline of her white sundress, Squaring her shoulders in determination, she walked to the door. A bell tingled above the door to announce her entrance.

  The balding head of Fred Shaw, the owner, turned away from the customer he was helping to glance toward the door, and immediately he waved to his other male clerk to take his place as he excused himself to walk toward Elizabeth.

  It flashed through her mind that this was usually the case. The owners or managers of the various stores in Carrelville invariably were the ones who waited on her, sometimes even letting other customers wait. It struck her suddenly as being very unfair.

  "Good morning, Mrs. Carrel," he greeted her. A wide, professional smile spread across his face while his eyes crinkled at the corners behind steel-rimmed glasses. "It's going to be another hot one today, isn't it?"

  "Yes, it is," Elizabeth agreed, wondering if her vague embarrassment was revealed in her cheeks. "If you're busy, Mr. Shaw, I don't mind waiting a few minutes."

  "Not at all, not at all," he assured her quickly. "I'll bet I can guess why you've called. I was just saying to my wife last night that we hadn't got around to buying tickets for your dinner. She suggested that I get a couple of extra so we can take our daughter and her husband along."

  "That's very generous of you, Mr. Shaw, but actually," her smile faltered slightly, "I stopped by to purchase a few items. Of course, I'll gladly sell you the tickets."

  Elizabeth knew that he was undoubtedly curious about who she was buying clothes for, but he didn't comment until the money and tickets had been exchanged.

  "Now, what may I show you?" he asked, Elizabeth took the list from her purse and handed it to him. "This is almost a complete wardrobe." He peered at her over the top of his glasses. "Is the—er—rumor true that young Jed has come home?"

  "Yes, Jed is back," she admitted stiffly.

  "For good?" Then as if he thought the question was too personal, Fred Shaw shrugged it aside. "I suppose with Jed it's impossible to be certain," He led her toward a rack of expensive dress suits. "Craig Landers said that he thought he'd recognized Jed at the airport yesterday. The engine of Craig's small plane was being overhauled. That's why he was out there. Jed flew in, didn't he?"

  Since Elizabeth hadn't asked, she could only assume that was so. "I believe he did."

  "This is a nice one," he suggested, removing a suit from the rack for her to examine. "Craig mentioned that Jed looked a little worse from wear. Has he been ill?"

  "Not that he mentioned." Elizabeth guessed it was a reference to Jed's untidy appearance. "Of course, he'd had a long journey. He was quite tired when he arrived at the house."

  "Where has he been? I heard once that he was on some South Pacific island."

  She fingered the material of a dark brown suit. "He traveled a good deal," she
replied, remembering that the three letters had been postmarked at different places.

  "What's he been doing all this time?"

  That was another question that Elizabeth hadn't thought to ask him. "Various things," she hedged.

  "Jed never did seem the type to settle down to one thing. Never seemed the type to settle down at all." Fred Shaw laughed as though he had made a joke. "You probably never got to meet him. I think he'd already left by the time you became engaged to Jeremy."

  "He left shortly after our engagement was announced," Elizabeth admitted, and tried to distract him from the subject by questioning him about the material in a particular suit.

  Once he had answered that, Fred Shaw returned the conversation to Jed. "Yes, I remember now. You and Jeremy were engaged before Jed left. We were all expecting Jed to come back for the wedding. "Course, he never was one to follow convention. No, he wasn't dependable like his brother. Now Jeremy was a son that any parent would be proud to claim. He was a fine boy, trustworthy and a hard worker. But I guess I'm not telling you anything you didn't already know."

  "Jeremy was a very wonderful husband," she murmured.

  "His death was a real tragedy." He shook his head and sighed. "It's always the hardest thing to understand why somebody like Jeremy is taken. He could have done so much good for the community. Jed was always the irresponsible, reckless one with his devil-may-care attitude. I remember when he was barely in his teens he'd disappear for a day or two, then show up and claim he'd hitch-hiked to Dayton to see the Air Force Museum. Heaven only knows where he truly went. That was one boy who brought more than his share of heartache to his parents. They tried so hard to see that he had all the advantages that Jeremy had. Mr. Carrel refused to stop trying to get him a university education. Every time Jed was expelled, his father would be out looking for another place that would take him, paying whatever money was necessary. It was a shame, truly a shame."

  "That was all very long ago, Mr. Shaw," Elizabeth said coldly.

  Lost in his thoughts, as he was, it took several seconds for her reprimand to penetrate the store-owner's thoughts. By then it had lost some of its strength.