The Indy Man Read online

  'Amy, would you stop mooning over that man and help clear the table!' Susan snapped.

  'I am not mooning over him!' Amy's eyes widened indignantly. 'And you don't have to be so grouchy!'

  Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, Susan bit back an even sharper retort, knowing it wasn't fair to take her temper out on Amy. Her sister was at an impressionable age where her crushes were painfully deep and short-lived.

  'Besides,' Amy lifted her chin to a haughty angle, 'it's my turn to wipe the dishes and it's your job to clear the table,' she declared before flouncing into the kitchen.

  Susan glanced at her mother and sighed. 'Was I ever that hopeless?'

  'We all were,' her mother smiled faintly, and picked up a stack of dishes, carrying them into the kitchen.

  Susan followed within minutes carrying more dishes. She opened the door in time to hear Amy ask, 'How long will Mitch be staying tonight, Mom?'

  'I don't know. I imagine until your father drives him to his hotel. Why?' Beth Mabry replied, adjusting the temperature of the water coming out of the double sink taps.

  'Couldn't I wipe the dishes after he leaves?' Amy pleaded. 'I mean, he's just got out of the hospital and all. He might be tired and ask to leave early.'

  'I'm sure he'll stay until after the dishes are done,' her mother answered with a straight face but a decided twinkle in her eyes that met Susan's raised eyebrows of despair.

  'We could leave the dishes altogether,' Amy suggested, unwilling to give up with one refusal. 'I promise I'll help you do them in the morning.'

  'The answer is "no," Amy.'

  'If you would help, Amy,' Susan put in with thinning patience, 'instead of standing around trying to think of reasons not to do the dishes, we might finish them sooner. Besides, I'm certain Mitch Braden can survive without your company for a little while.'

  Amy whirled about. 'Just because you don't like him, Susan, it's no reason why I can't! And don't be telling me what I should do!'

  'Susan,' her mother said with astonishment, 'don't you like Mitch?'

  'Of course I like him,' Susan answered nervously, 'but I certainly don't think he's some Greek god who's come down from Olympus to walk with us mortals the way Amy does. He's just a man.'

  'But what a man!' Amy retorted smugly. 'Compared to him, Warren is a stiff-necked prude.'

  'Mother,' Susan breathed in deeply, 'if you don't do something about this daughter of yours, so help me, I will!'

  'Stop it, both of you!' was the stern response.

  Returning to the dining room, Susan finished clearing the table. She had resolved not to lose her temper with Amy, then lost it anyway. She herself had felt the force of Mitch's attraction. Amy was so young and vulnerable that it was only natural she should fall under his spell.

  With the dining room straightened and all the chairs in the proper place at the table, Susan walked back into the kitchen straight to her young sister.

  'I'll finish drying the dishes for you,' she said, taking the towel from Amy's hands. 'Go on into the living room.' She smiled at the joy gleaming instantaneously in her sister's face. 'And I'm sorry for putting you down.'

  'Oh, Susan, you are super!' Amy hugged her quickly and dashed from the room. Susan could hear her footsteps slow to a more ladylike pace before she reached the living room.

  The dishes were finished in short order and Susan was compelled by a sense of polite duty to follow her mother into the living room. She chose a chair apart from the others, curling up in a shadowed corner which allowed her an unobstructed view of her family and Mitch Braden.

  Despite the armless sleeve and the bulging cast beneath his shirt, he looked leanly powerful, like the coiled muscular shape of a jungle cat. The lampshade kept the light from touching off the golden fire of his brown hair, but a blue light seemed to glow warmly in his eyes.

  Her family was so at ease with him. The conversation wasn't stilted as it often was when Warren visited them. She had expected Mitch to dominate the discussion, but he had a knack of drawing others into the conversation.

  Except herself, that was. He seemed to sense her faint hostility. She guessed he had been aware of it all evening and was now leaving her alone. Fine, she told herself, that was what she wanted, but she felt strangely left out, and it didn't help to remind herself that it was her own choice.

  The cuckoo clock sang out the ten o'clock hour. Mitch glanced at his wristwatch as if to confirm the time.

  'I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was so late,' he apologized warmly. 'I hadn't intended to outstay my welcome.'

  'You aren't leaving already?' Amy moaned.

  'It's late, Red,' Mitch smiled, then glanced to her father. 'There isn't any need for you to go out again tonight. I'll call a cab.'

  'Nonsense,' Simon Mabry refused vigorously. 'The night air will do me good. I won't hear of you taking a cab.'

  'I appreciate your kindness,' Mitch said with a nod of submission. 'I can't thank you enough for this evening. You've all made me feel very welcome.'

  'I wish you didn't have to leave,' said Greg with obvious sincerity.

  'So do I,' Mitch agreed as he carefully rose to his feet. 'My hotel room is going to seem awfully cold and silent after an evening in your home, Beth. Thank you.'

  'Why do you have to go back there?' Amy frowned, a faint pout on her lips. 'I don't see why you couldn't stay here with us.'

  'Then I definitely would wear out my welcome.' The lines around his mouth deepened with a gentle smile.

  Susan breathed a silent sigh of relief at his instant refusal. For a second, she had thought he was going to make some wistful remark.

  'That's an idea,' her father said thoughtfully and Susan's eyes widened in apprehension. 'We do have that guest room upstairs, Beth. Nobody uses it for anything.'

  'Simon—' Mitch held up his hand.

  'He's right,' Beth Mabry interrupted. 'We would be happy to have you stay with us, Mitch.'

  'I couldn't take advantage of your generosity that way,' he shook his head in refusal.

  'You wouldn't be taking advantage of us,' Beth insisted. 'If we didn't want you to stay, we wouldn't have asked. And one more person in this house isn't going to be any extra trouble. The way Greg and Amy are always inviting their friends over I've become used to it.'

  'It's a tempting invitation, Beth, but I don't think I should accept it,' Mitch refused again.

  Susan, who had been staring in open-mouthed protest, finally spoke out. 'We understand, Mitch. We wouldn't want you to do anything you would regret. After all, you're used to coming and going as you please and you would probably feel your movements were restricted, staying here with us.'

  His level blue gaze focused on her and a sudden merry twinkle came into his eyes. 'On the contrary, Susan,' he smiled, 'I was more concerned that your parents might regret inviting a stranger into their home.'

  'You're not a stranger!' Amy denied vehemently.

  'In truth I must agree,' Simon Mabry added. 'Speaking for myself, I feel as if we've known you for a very long time. We would be happy to have you if you would like to stay.'

  'Well, if you insist on twisting my arm,' Mitch shrugged, smiling crookedly, 'I guess I have no choice but to accept.'

  Amy cheered unabashedly while Susan trembled with impotent rage. How could she possibly live under the same roof with him for the three or four weeks he would be staying?

  She was filled with the uneasy premonition that nothing would be the same after he left. Her life would be irrevocably altered.

  Greg scrambled to his feet. 'I'll come along with Dad and help you pack up your things at the hotel. You can move in tonight. Wow! Wait until the fellers hear about this!' his voice cracked in excitement.

  'No, it's too late tonight,' Mitch stated. 'I'll have everything packed and ready to go tomorrow at noon. That will give you time to reconsider the invitation. And I promise I'll understand if you change your mind.'

  'We won't,' Amy declared as if making a solemn vow.

/>   Unmindful of the startled looks she received from her family, Susan muttered a hurried 'Excuse me' and walked quickly from the room. She had no particular destination in mind. She wasn't even conscious of where she was when she came to a stop in front of the kitchen sink.

  Yanking open a cupboard door above her head, she removed a drinking glass and filled it with cold water from the tap. She was just lifting it to her lips when the kitchen door opened. She counted to ten before turning toward it, expecting to see the reproving face of her mother.

  'Do you always sulk when things don't go the way you want?' Mitch asked in a low voice laced with curious amusement.

  'How could you do this?' Susan hissed angrily.

  'Do what?' he repeated with deliberate blankness. 'All I've done is accept a neighborly invitation,' he drawled lazily.

  'Yes,' she was so angry she could hardly speak, 'all you did was accept an invitation you did everything but get on your knees and ask for!'

  'Are you implying that I tricked your parents into inviting me to stay here?' His hurt, affronted look might have seemed genuine if it wasn't for the sparkle in his eyes.

  'Yes,' she snapped.

  'You really believe I could be that devious?'

  'Yes!'

  A brow raised briefly in resignation. 'Time is running out on me. I have to take advantage of every minute that I can.'

  'What does that mean?' Susan demanded guardedly.

  'You're a smart girl, I think you'll figure it out,' he smiled. 'Good night, beautiful. I'll see you tomorrow.'

  He was being deliberately mysterious to confuse her and sidetrack her from the issue. Her fingers tightened around the glass of water in her hand, then paused.

  'I wouldn't throw that glass if I were you,' he warned in a silently laughing tone. 'I think you'd have difficulty explaining to your parents how dropping a glass splattered water all over the walls and door.'

  The second time the door opened, it was Beth Mabry who entered. Susan raised the glass to her mouth and took a long gulp of water.

  'What's the matter?' her mother asked quietly.

  'It's just going to be awful.' Susan avoided the gentle gaze studying her.

  'What is?'

  'Mitch Braden living here, that's what.' She set the partially empty glass on the counter with an impatient movement of her hand.

  'Now, why do you say that?' Her mother's curiosity was overridden with surprise as she walked to the counter where Susan stood.

  'Because—' Susan glanced up, her expression stretched taut to control the desperate anger that wanted to erupt. 'Because Warren is jealous.'

  'Jealous? Of Mitch Braden? For heaven's sake, why?'

  This time Susan related the exact circumstances surrounding her first meeting with Mitch Braden and the subsequent encounters, not omitting the way Mitch constantly flirted with her.

  'Does Warren know all of this?' Beth asked when Susan had finished. Her expression was gentle with understanding, but there was a faint gleam of amusement in her eyes that Susan found irritating.

  'Of course he doesn't know all of it. He would be positively furious if he knew everything. But I swear, Mother, he isn't going to understand why you've invited Mitch to stay here. For that matter, neither do I.'

  'Yes, you do,' her mother smiled. 'Perhaps if I'd known about the way things were between Mitch and Warren I might have considered the invitation more thoroughly before inviting him to stay here. But we certainly can't retract it now even if we wanted to, not unless you want to explain this whole story to the others.'

  'Greg would have a field day with it,' Susan sighed, running a weary hand through the dark hair near her ear.

  'Besides, you and Warren are engaged. And since you've done nothing to encourage Mitch,' there was a faint pause as Susan suddenly averted her head, 'then I think Warren should learn to trust you and to accept that you can handle the situation. Mitch isn't staying for ever, just a few weeks.'

  'It's going to seem like an eternity,' Susan sighed.

  'You're beginning to exaggerate like your younger sister,' her mother teased dryly.

  Smiling ruefully, Susan pushed herself away from the counter. 'If it wasn't so painful being thirteen, then I'd wish I was Amy's age. Goodnight Mom.'

  'It will all work out for the best, Susan.'

  'Sure,' she answered in a doubting-Thomas voice.

  Early on Saturday afternoon, Mitch moved in bag and baggage. The house was in a gleeful turmoil the entire afternoon. Mr. Mabry had decided the garage had to be cleaned out to make room for Mitch's sports car. He had driven it over for him since Mitch couldn't manage the gearshifts with his broken arm.

  Susan tried to stay out of the mainstream as much as she could, but the excitement rippling through the house touched her in spite of her attempts to remain outside its sphere.

  Each time she caught herself about to join the laughter and chatting voices of her family and Mitch, she would remind herself of Warren's reaction when he came to pick her up for their date that night.

  It was difficult being miserable when everyone else was having fun.

  As Susan dressed for her date with Warren, she considered Mitch's attitude toward her that day. He had seemed to pay little attention to her. She had expected him to be smugly triumphant, ready to remind her mockingly of his presence in her home at every opportunity. Yet he had been as friendly with her as he had been with the rest of the family.

  It wouldn't last, she sighed into the bathroom mirror. He was merely biding his time. She couldn't afford to relax her guard even for an instant.

  The sound of a car pulling into the drive drifted through the screened windows, opened to admit the warm breeze of the early summer's night. Adding the finishing stroke of lipstick, Susan hurried to her room, picking up the crocheted shawl from her bed before hurrying out again for the staircase. Warren was early.

  The doorbell rang when she reached the top of the stairs. Before her toe touched the first step, a voice called out from the living room below.

  'I'll answer it!' Mitch stated.

  Susan's heart nose-dived to her shoes. Her legs were paralyzed, unable to carry her down the flight of steps before Mitch reached the front door.

  Whistling absently, he appeared below her, the empty white shirt-sleeve tucked into the waistband of his trousers.

  The door was swung open and Susan could just barely see the dark gray of Warren's trousers. She could visualize the stunned look on his face.

  'Hello, Warren. Come on in,' Mitch greeted, inviting him in as if he had done it a thousand times before, just as if he was a permanent member of the household.

  He stepped to one side to allow Warren entry, brown head turning toward the stairs where Susan waited in dread.

  'Susan, it's for you!' Mitch called loudly, then paused as he met her gaze. 'Sorry, I didn't see you standing there.'

  'I just bet you didn't,' Susan thought savagely when she saw the wicked glint in the blue eyes. She averted her gaze to the steps before her as the paralysis left her legs and she started down.

  'Warren is here to pick you up,' Mitch announced unnecessarily.

  'I can see that,' Susan snapped tightly.

  One look at the glowering mask of rage on Warren's face told her in no uncertain terms what he thought of the freehanded way Mitch was making himself at home. Susan hurried her pace, fearing an explosion at any second.

  With infuriating calm, Mitch waited at the bottom of the stairs with Warren, his mocking gaze watching her descent and knowing the reason for the flush of anger in her cheeks.

  Deliberately she ignored Mitch to look directly at Warren. 'I'm ready if you are,' she said, reaching out for Warren's arm.

  'You two have a nice time,' Mitch offered as Warren pivoted sharply around to leave. 'Don't keep Susan out too late. She needs her beauty sleep.' There was mocking emphasis on beauty before he closed the door behind them.

  Warren began striding toward his car, indifferent to the fact that S
usan had to practically run to keep up with him. 'Would you kindly explain to me what he's doing there?' His voice vibrated with checked rage.

  'You aren't going to like it,' Susan said in a very hesitant voice.

  He held the car door open for her, his dark gaze sweeping her apprehensive face, its coldness chilling her to the bone.

  'There's nothing about the man that I like, and I have the feeling I'll like this even less.'

  Susan waited until he was in the car before dropping her bombshell. The response was what she expected and dreaded.

  'You can't be serious! You can't possibly mean he's going to be living in the same house with you!'

  'I'm perfectly serious,' she replied in a forced calm voice.

  'Your parents actually invited him to stay!' Warren shook his head in disbelief. 'Didn't you tell them what kind of man he is?'

  'What could I tell them?' Susan reasoned. 'That he pays me outrageous compliments? That he flirts with me? They would have laughed and asked him anyway. They like him.'

  'So you're just accepting it?' he accused grimly. 'You're not making any attempt to change the situation?'

  'What would you have me do, Warren?' The impatience she felt toward the whole mess she was in and Warren's lack of understanding about her helplessness to correct it made her voice sharp. 'Move out?'

  'You could at least consider it,' he snapped.

  'He isn't going to live there permanently, only for a few weeks,' she reminded him.

  'I have a feeling there's going to be trouble,' Warren muttered.

  Susan echoed the thought, but only to herself.

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  Chapter Seven

  SUSAN walked into the kitchen. 'Is there anything I can help you with, Mom, before Warren comes?'

  Glancing up from the salad bowl in front of her, Beth Mabry cut the last tomato into wedges and let them join the others in the red mound on top of the lettuce. She surveyed her daughter quickly, taking in the freshness of the yellow sun-dress with its varying sized circles of white polka dots.

  'Yes, you can toss this salad together while I scrub some potatoes to bake,' she answered, drying her hands on a terry dish towel. As Susan moved toward her, Beth paused. 'On second thought, you'd better have Greg take the charcoal out and get the barbecue grill started. I think he's in the garage tinkering with his car.'