A Land Called Deseret Read online

  There was no sign of him in her first sweep of the room. LaRaine looked again, wondering how she had missed him. Travis was so tall and stood out so from the others that she had been able to spot him instantly all the previous times. A tiny frown creased her forehead when her second search was equally unsuccessful.

  Working her way around the crowded room, LaRaine continued to look for him. A painful suspicion was beginning to form in her mind. Then she saw Susan talking to the tall blonde Travis had been with earlier. If he hadn't gone somewhere with either of them, where was he? Her frown of uncertainty deepened.

  "Looking for someone?" Sam Hardesty was at her elbow.

  LaRaine erased the frown from her expression and forced a bright smile. "Travis. Have you seen him?"

  "He's gone home, back to the ranch," he told her, swaying unsteadily and lifting the drink in his hand to his mouth.

  She laughed off his answer. "Will you stop trying to be funny, Sam? Have you seen him or not?"

  "I'm not joking, LaRaine." He shook his head and smiled, taking delight in the frozen look stealing over her face. "He said to tell you he'd had enough."

  "Do you mean he just walked out and left me here?" she demanded. Humiliation burned through her veins, coloring her ivory skin. "He can't do that!"

  "He did. He's gone." Sam continued to smile with satisfaction. "Look around for yourself. You've already done that, though, haven't you?" he mocked.

  LaRaine was trembling, vibrating in outrage and mortification. "He isn't going to get away with this!"

  Her teeth were clenched to keep her chin from quivering. "Let me borrow your car, Sam." When he hesitated, she added a taut, "Please."

  "Sure." Sam fumbled through his pocket and handed her the keys. "It's the burgundy Continental parked at the corner."

  Just for a second LaRaine let herself be sidetracked by his announcement. "Continental?" He'd been driving a late model Ford the last she knew.

  "Yeah, brand new." There was an unnatural glitter in his eyes. "Maybe you shouldn't have been so quick to turn me down."

  She hesitated, then replied, "If you had a million dollars, I think I would have turned you down."

  She suspected that she just might be telling the truth. In more rational moments it might have been a shocking discovery, but right now she was too obsessed with going after Travis.

  | Go to Table of Contents |

  Chapter Six

  THE POWERFUL CAR sped out of town onto the main highway. A full moon bathed the rough countryside with silver light. LaRaine's foot was heavy on the accelerator as she raced the car through the night. She almost missed the unmarked gate and the dirt road leading back to the ranchyard.

  Making the turn, she drove as fast as she dared over the winding track. On a curve, her headlight beams briefly caught the glowing eyes of a wild animal before it slunk away into the darkness. It didn't arouse her interest. Her only thought was of Travis and the things she intended to say to him.

  It seemed to take forever before she crested the rise and saw the dark outlines of the ranch buildings silhouetted against the moonlit sky. There was a light on in the house. LaRaine stepped on the gas to speed over the last hundred yards. The tires skidded and slipped as she braked to a halt in front of the house.

  A dog came racing out of the barn to bark at the intruder. LaRaine ignored it as she stormed out of the car and onto the porch. Not bothering to knock, she jerked open the door and sailed into the house. Travis was halfway across the living room, wearing the same brown slacks. His cream shirt was completely unbuttoned and hanging open. He stopped; his gaze narrowed at the sight of LaRaine sweeping toward him.

  "How dare you treat me like that!" She confronted him, her hands doubled into fists held rigidly at her side. "How dare you walk out and leave me! Nobody treats me like that!"

  "Maybe it was time somebody did." Travis didn't raise his voice to meet the angry pitch of hers, but kept it calmly reasonable and cool.

  Her hand lashed out to strike at his cheek. With lightning reflexes, Travis caught her wrist, his strong fingers completely circling its slenderness. LaRaine strained to pull her wrist free of his hold, but it was no use.

  "I was never so humiliated in all my life!" she stormed. "I had to find out from Sam that you'd left—you didn't even have the decency to tell me yourself."

  "I warned you that I wouldn't be used." His eyes narrowed into coal-black slits. "You asked me to take you to that party to save your precious pride. I did. Five minutes after we walked through the door, you went off on your own to have fun with your friends."

  "You weren't exactly bored while I was gone," LaRaine accused. "I saw you talking to Karen, from Wardrobe, and Susan. You weren't interested in where I was or what I was doing."

  "Did you expect me to go off in a corner and sulk because you weren't with me?" The sardonic line of his mouth quirked to show her how ludicrous that thought was.

  "I didn't expect you to go off and leave me there by myself!" she flashed in resentment. "I thought you were a gentleman. Obviously I was wrong."

  "It's funny you should make that mistake." There was the hard glitter of amusement in his look. "I guessed all along that you weren't a lady."

  Stung by his insult, LaRaine raised her free hand, nails curled to claw at his face. It was as easily captured as the first. When she attempted to struggle, she was hauled roughly against his chest, her arms twisted behind her back to make her a helpless captive. Her raven-black hair swung about her shoulders as she tipped her head back to glare at him.

  "You dirty rotten b—"

  His mouth crushed down on her lips, making her eat the curses she longed to hurl at him. With his shirt opened, she was arched against his naked chest. Wiry, dark hairs scraped her bare skin above the scooped neckline of her dress. His fiery body heat seemed to burn right through the thin material to envelop her in its blazing warmth.

  Smothered, LaRaine couldn't seem to catch her breath. Everything seemed to be reeling. The bruising force of his kiss had bent her head back so far that she thought her neck would snap. She had been drawn into the vortex of his anger, and realized that she wasn't all that eager to escape the spinning madness of his arms.

  A series of thudding sounds penetrated her consciousness. At first LaRaine thought it was the drumming of her heart. When a knock rattled the screen door, she realized what she had heard were footsteps on the wooden floor of the porch. His mouth ended its crushing possession of hers as her arms were untwisted from behind her back, but Travis kept hold of her. His expressionless face was turned toward the door. LaRaine took a shaky breath and tried to fight free of the haze that enveloped her senses.

  The screen door rattled again. "Travis?" a young male voice called. "Is there anything wrong? I heard the car and—"

  "Nothing's wrong, Joe," Travis answered.

  LaRaine was amazed at how quickly he controlled his anger to sound calm and unruffled. Of course, the punishing kiss had driven out her own anger, so maybe it had worked the same for him, providing a release.

  There was hesitation from the porch, then the thud of footsteps on the boards. LaRaine's pulse had still not settled down to its normal rate when the footsteps could no longer be heard. She stared at the curling hairs darkening Travis's chest, not ready yet to meet his gaze.

  "Who was that?" she murmured.

  "My hired hand."

  "Where was he?" It seemed easier to talk about him.

  "He sleeps in the shed," Travis answered.

  "In the shed? That broken-down old building near the barn?" LaRaine couldn't believe it was the one he meant.

  "It's sturdier than it looks," he informed her dryly. He turned her around and pointed her toward the door.

  "What are you doing?" she protested.

  "You're leaving," Travis stated, and marched her to the door.

  "What if I'm not ready to go?" LaRaine challenged, pulling back.

  "This happens to be my home," he reminder her. Opening th
e door, he pushed her onto the porch. "I didn't invite you here. You just barged in."

  "And now you're telling me to get out," she concluded tightly. His hand on her elbow kept her from tripping down in the porch steps.

  "You could put it that way," Travis agreed, and walked her to the car as if he wanted to make certain she left.

  "Why don't you ride with me as far as the highway?" LaRaine challenged sarcastically. "That way you can make sure that I'm off your property."

  He opened the car door and pushed her inside behind the wheel. Holding the door open, he looked down at the rebellion flashing in her eyes.

  "You're a spoiled, selfish little brat," he said flatly. "You want everything your way and you don't care who you hurt getting it. Life doesn't work that way, and it's time you learned that. I hope tonight was the first of many lessons."

  He slammed the door shut without giving her a chance to respond to his accusations. LaRaine shivered at the freezing scorn that had been in his voice. Tears burned her eyes, but she kept them at bay as she turned the ignition key. The front fender of the luxury car narrowly missed grazing Travis as she made a sharp turn to take the dirt road back to the highway. Once she had left the tall man behind, tears streamed down cheeks. She kept wiping them away, but it only seemed to make room for more.

  She drove recklessly back to town, speeding, half the time blinded by tears. She kept telling herself that she didn't know why she was crying and that she didn't care a snap about his opinion of her.

  The parking space on the corner was still empty, although LaRaine noticed that the space right behind it was occupied by a highway patrol car. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face one last time as she carefully parked the Continental in the same spot she had taken it from. The last person she wanted to face was Sam, so she left the keys in the car rather than give them back to him in person.

  As she climbed out of the car, she noticed that the patrolman behind her did also. She was certain she hadn't done anything illegal. She ignored him and started to walk to the hotel.

  "Wait a minute, miss." It was unmistakably an order.

  She hesitated, then stopped. After all that crying, she probably looked a mess, but there was nothing she could do about repairing her makeup now. Gathering all her poise, she turned.

  "What is it, officer?" she demanded.

  A rotund figure was puffing after the approaching patrolman. When he recognized LaRaine, he stopped short beneath a streetlight and his face turned twenty shades of red.

  "You!" he sputtered finally. "You're the one who stole my car?"

  "Your car?" LaRaine repeated, staring at the director with a sinking heart. "But I thou—"

  "Do you know this woman?" the patrolman asked Andrew Behr.

  "Unfortunately, yes," he said as he expelled an angry sigh. "She's an actress, a lousy actress."

  Her feet seemed to be rooted to the pavement. It hadn't been Sam's car. It belonged to the director, yet Sam had let her believe it was his. He had given her the keys. Now she was being accused of stealing it.

  "You weren't aware that she'd taken your car?" the uniformed officer questioned.

  "No," the director denied, glaring at her. "I came out here to get in my car and it was gone. If she took it, it was without my permission."

  "But—" LaRaine began weakly, only to be drowned out by the patrolman.

  "Did you leave your keys in the car?"

  "I told you I don't remember," Andrew Behr answered impatiently. "I might have."

  Light flashed from the building behind the two men as a door was opened and closed. LaRaine noticed a man standing in the shadows of the overhang. It took her a second to recognize Sam. She too a step forward to ask him to explain to the officer and the director that he had loaned her the car. Then she realized that he would deny it. He had done it deliberately, hoping to get her into trouble. He had succeeded.

  "Do you wish to press charges against her?" the patrolman asked. "You do have the car back. There doesn't seem to be any damage to it."

  LaRaine spoke up in her own defense. "I didn't steal the car—I borrowed it."

  The director paused before answering the patrolman. He seemed to do it deliberately to let LaRaine dangle over the heat of the fire, hoping she would cry out for mercy.

  "No," he said finally, his voice ominously low.

  "No, I won't press charges. I'll handle this my own way. I'm sorry to have troubled you."

  "That's what I'm paid for." The patrolman touched his hat in a one-fingered salute before returning to his marked car.

  Andrew Behr walked to the middle of the street where LaRaine stood. She offered no apologies or explanations; she knew she would be wasting her breath. When he reached her side, they walked in unison to the sidewalk.

  "Shall I say it?" he asked when they stopped at the other side.

  "You might as well," LaRaine answered brazenly. "If nothing else, then just to make it official."

  "You're through, finished!" he snapped. "I don't want to see you or hear from you again. I want you packed and gone in the morning."

  "By morning?" she smiled sweetly. "I'm surprised you're giving me that long."

  "Keep that up and I might change my mind," he threatened.

  "Excuse me." LaRaine kept the saccharine smile in place. "I have a lot of packing to do."

  Turning her back on the man, she walked to the hotel, not stopping until she reached her room. She walked to the vanity table and sank into the chair. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she noticed that other than her mascara being smudged, her face was unravaged by the tears she'd cried. Numbly she set about repairing the slight damage.

  Halfway through, she began laughing. The world had fallen in around her head and she was fixing her makeup. She realized she was on the verge of hysteria and sobered. What was she going to do?

  She walked to where she had left her purse and counted out her money. She sank onto the bed in numbed shock. Where had it all gone? There was barely more than twenty dollars in her billfold. Most of it had gone to pay bills and cover her overdrawn account, she realized. The rest she had squandered on the dress she was wearing. She remembered her agent's lecture and wished she had paid more heed to it.

  Hope flickered briefly. Maybe Peter would loan her some more money. No—LaRaine shook her head. The minute he learned she had been fired, he would probably wash his hands of her. Her parents? She had had a postcard from them a week ago. They were vacationing somewhere, a long ocean cruise, LaRaine thought, but she couldn't remember where and she'd thrown the card away.

  There was a knock at her door. LaRaine ignored it, hoping whoever it was would go away. But the knocking persisted. She scooped up the contents of her purse and dumped them back in the bag. After running a smoothing hand over the midnight black of her hair, she walked to the door and opened it.

  Sam was leaning against the door jamb, a knowing smile on his face. "Hi, LaRaine. I thought I might find you here."

  There was a faint slur in his voice, but he looked more sober than he had at the party. For a minute LaRaine toyed with the idea of asking him for help, but something in his expression told her that was what he was waiting for. He wanted the revenge of turning her down, the way she had rejected him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

  "What do you want, Sam?" she demanded instead.

  "The old man kicked you out, didn't he?" His mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

  "If you've come to gloat, you're wasting your time." LaRaine walked away from the door. "I've had it with this place. I'm glad I don't have to stay around here any longer."

  He followed her into the room and closed the door. "You wanted the job bad enough a couple of months ago," he reminded her.

  "Things change. People change." She shrugged. "Look at you—good, kind, sweet Sam. This was all your doing. You set me up deliberately. You gave me the keys, let me believe it was your car, and probably told Behr it was gone."

  "I did warn you
not to cross him," Sam told her.

  "Then you arranged to make sure that I did, didn't you?" LaRaine challenged.

  "I guess I did, didn't I?" he admitted.

  "I know you regret that you helped me get this job," she said. "But I would have had a lot more respect for you, Sam, if you'd had the guts to fire me yourself instead of tricking someone else into doing the dirty work for you. You've just given me one more reason why I'm glad I never agreed to marry you."

  "Is that right?" He seemed not in the least disturbed by her denouncement of him.

  "Yes, that's right." Spinning on her heel, LaRaine walked to the vanity table where she picked up a brush and began running it through her hair.

  "So you think it was a mean, dirty trick I played on you?" Sam questioned.

  Her hair crackled with electricity. LaRaine felt charged by it, too. "It was," she snapped.

  "You've done it all your life," he accused. "You tricked your cousin into impersonating you so you could make your first movie without Montgomery ever discovering it. Later I heard about the way you tried to trick Corbett's girl friend into believing you and Corbett were having an affair. You've tricked others, more successfully. I was one of them."

  "You're a sore loser, Sam." LaRaine set the brush down and fluffed her raven hair with her fingers, pretending a total indifference to his words.

  "No, I'm a wise one. And I just hope that after tonight you know what it's like to be a victim of a dirty trick. It's a painful experience to go sailing along and have someone pull the rug out from underneath you when you're not looking."

  Her natural ivory complexion grew whiter as Sam explained his motivation. He knew just how harshly he had brought her down, because he knew how badly she had needed this job. He studied her stricken look with satisfaction.

  "I hope it hurts, LaRaine," he said. "You've always wanted to believe that you belonged on a pedestal. Well, you don't." He walked to the door, opened it and paused. "I won't wish you good luck. I'll save it for the next poor sucker you find."