Texas rich (7 page)

"I have to work on my graduation dress if I'm to finish it in time. Call me if you need help with dinner." Impetuously, she kissed Agnes on the cheek to take the sting out of her words, then went to her room.

Billie closed, the door behind her, wishing it had a lock. Four more hours and she'd be with Moss again. The admiral had taken personal leave and that left Moss pretty much on his own, he'd told her. He'd still have the car tonight and they'd drive down to the park. After that first time they'd never gone to the USO again. He still didn't want to share her with anyone else. His possessiveness made her feel all warm and soft inside. Later, when he drove her home, he would wrap his arms around her and kiss her. Again and again. She shivered when she thought of the way he whispered a groan and grew hard against her. He laughingly called her a tease. If he could have seen her eyes in the darkness of the front porch, he would see her silent dare, the loving challenge to go beyond the hmits he had set.

What would she do when he left? The unknown hung over her like a pall. She never told him that she didn't pray for him anymore. Not for his reassignment, anyway. Now she prayed for other things: for him to love her, for him never to forget her.

Moss had agreed to attend her graduation and the dance afterward. He'd wear his dress whites, and the girls were going to die when she walked in on his arm, simply die. Once it would have been important; now it seemed silly and girlish. Now she only wanted to have him to herself, to be alone with

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him. She knew she was in love. Moss's feelings were still a mystery. He liked her; that much she knew. He enjoyed kissing her and dancing with her and being with her. He'd told her. But when he wasn't with her, did he think of her the way she thought of him?

It was after nine when the phone rang. Agnes laid down her needlepoint canvas and took it on the third ring. "Father Donovan, how nice of you to call," she said quietly, then took a deep breath, almost afraid to hear what he would say.

"Mrs. Ames, I did as you asked. I called Chaplain Franklin at the Navy Yard. I think I told you I was acquainted with him. Chaplain Franklin assures me that Lieutenant Coleman is a very fine young man from a distinguished Texas family. It happens that the chaplain is quite friendly with the admiral's wife. That personal reference concurs with the lieutenant's records—he's not married."

Agnes listened while Father Donovan told her about the Colemans of Texas, her ears perking when he said that the father, Seth, had his fingers in many profitable pies. Oil, beef, aviation, and electronics.

"The lieutenant is well reconmiended, Mrs. Ames, and has an excellent record. All in all, I don't think you've a thing to worry about where Billie is concerned. I hope this puts your mind at ease. I wish more parents were as concerned about their children as you are. A few discreet questions could save them a lot of grief."

"Father, I appreciate all you've done. You must come to dinner one day soon."

"Anytime I can be of help, just call me. That's why I'm here. Good night, Mrs. Ames."

Agnes's eyes were sparkling like newly cut diamonds when she picked up her needlework again. Beef. Oil. Electronics. Money. Lots of it. Tomorrow she'd go to the main library and check out the city of Austin and what was, apparently, one of its leading families. She snorted in a very unladylike manner when she thought of Neal Fox and his father's bank.

As she stitched along with a bright vermilion length of Persian yam, listening to the Longines Wittnaur Music Hour, Agnes thought that her clever little ploy of attempting to intimidate a cowboy certainly hadn't backfired. She was glad now she'd used her best china and crystal along with her mother's lace tablecloth. At least he could see the Ameses weren't

I

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peasants, but examples of good breeding and manners who

could hold up their heads with the Colemans of Austin, Texas.

Had Father Donovan said she hadn't a thing to worry about? That was because he hadn't seen the look in Billie's eyes whenever the young lieutenant was near. That look told Agnes all she needed to know. If Moss crooked his fmger, Billie would run. He could easily take advantage of her. And if he did, where would that leave Billie? Deflowered at seventeen. She could become pregnant and then what? Still, Agnes had a strong hunch that Moss would keep his head. He knew he was tormenting her; he also knew he held all the cards where her daughter was concerned. But there was something in his eyes that said he played fair.

It was five minutes to ten when Moss and Billie walked through the front door. Agnes was gathering up her needlepoint to retire for the evening. "Good night. Moss, Billie," she said quietly. Not for the world was she going to meet the young man's stare this evening. "I have a frightful headache, Billie. Be sure all the lights are out and the door locked when you go to bed." Without another look at either of the young people, Agnes climbed the stairs.

Moss was vaguely disappointed. Of late he'd acmally enjoyed his little staring game with Agnes. Something was up. Tonight there was a nervousness and excitement about Agnes that made him wonder.

"It's a shame Mother has a headache," said Billie, "but that means we have the living room all to ourselves. We can listen to the radio or just sit here and talk. You don't have to rush back to the yard, do you?"

Moss's mind raced. He supposed he could stay awhile. The others would wait for him. He'd never told Billie that when he left her most evenings he didn't go back to the base. He didn't have to report in until seven in the morning, so usually he went with the others to an after-hours club. "I can stay for a while. But I'll have to get back soon, early duty in the morning."

Billie sat on the sofa and was disappointed when Moss sat at the other end. Did he think Agnes was going to spy on them? The news report came on the radio and they hstened silently. She saw how alert Moss became at the mention of the USS Enterprise in the Pacific. H. V. Kaltenbom was speaking.

"Today is June eighth. Less than a week ago a triumph was declared in the Pacific by our naval and air forces off the shores

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of the tiny island of Midway. It was a day of reckoning for the Empire of Japan, which met with the strength of American aircraft carriers Hornet, Yorktown, and Enterprise. Four Japanese carriers were sent to the bottom. The Soryu, the Hiryu, Kaga, and Akagi will never sail into Tokyo Harbor again."

Moss listened with rapt attention. If there was one thing Billie had learned early on, it was Moss's interest in every bit of news. Especially about the war. He could lose track of time when he talked about it. She'd listen with interest until he got to the part where he said he couldn't wait to be reassigned. She always had to bite her tongue to keep from asking, "What about me?"

Moss glanced at his watch. Kaltenbom's news seemed to have shaken him. "I've got to get back, Billie. Tell your mother I hope her headache is better."

"Moss, isn't the Enterprise the ship you trained on last fall? Where is Midway? What does it all mean?"

Moss placed his hand on her shoulders, looking down at her. "It means that if I don't hurry and get myself over there, it's all going to be over." He ran a hand through his thick dark hair. "I don't know what to do, Billie. I don't want to go against Pap, but I know I've got to get in there and do my share." His sudden grin relieved the worry lines between his eyes. "Can't let all the other guys have the fun, can I?"

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lightly, shifting his brain into what he called neutral, allowing himself to relax. Billie was so soft, so feminine, her lips so tender and gentle, promising more if only he dared to take it. He didn't want to hurt her. Neither did he want to take advantage of her. He cared for her, was enchanted by her, but he didn't love her. At least, he didn't think he did. He couldn't let himself love anyone, not even a nice girl like Billie. Love made too many demands and got in the way of plans and dreams. Seth loved him, too much, and the responsibility of that love prevented him from pursuing something he wanted very badly. He didn't need or want another tie or obligation to anyone, not even Billie.

Besides, she was one of those nice girls who would never understand that a guy could mess around and not want anything lasting or permanent. He'd have to stop seeing so much of her. She was getting under his skin and it was becoming more and more difficult to put honor and respect first. He should see other women, women who weren't so nice and didn't have any

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false illusions. Women who wouldn't be hurt by an occasional roll in the hay and who wouldn't expect marriage in return for virginity.

When Moss released Billie, he saw the tears in her eyes. "Hey, don't ever cry for me, Billie." And then he was gone.

Billie sat on her bed for a long, long time, warm tears trickling down her cheeks. How could she not cry for Moss? He wanted to be in the Pacific, flying into battle, risking his life. Why couldn't he want her that much? If he did, he'd never want to leave her.

BiUie came instantly awake and knew what day it was. Graduation. Her sleepy eyes went to the hook on the back of the closet door where her dress hung. It was beautiful, almost a bridal dress, virginal in its whiteness. The thought suddenly annoyed her. Perhaps she should have threaded some of the eyelet with a colored ribbon or made a colored sash. It wasn't too late; she still had all day. She decided a colored sash was the answer. She'd wear the completed white one for the graduation ceremonies and change to the pastel one for the dance. It would hardly take ten minutes to whip up on the machine. That's what she would do. She wanted to stand out from the other girls, to look just a little different, for Moss.

This was a night she wanted him to remember, herself a vision that he could take with him when he left. How long would she have him with her? Not very long, she realized. For weeks he'd been filled with the news of the Enterprise and its part in the battle of Midway. It made Moss "chomp at the bit," as he called it, to get into the fray before it was over. If only it was over, all of it; then he wouldn't have to leave her.

Billie felt she didn't really understand Moss Coleman any better than on the first day she'd met him more than a month ago. This was already June. June was a month for brides. Yesterday she'd heard that two of her classmates were marrying before their men shipped out. Simple, hurried ceremonies with only family present.

Billie ached.

By the middle of July Tim would be gone. The other boys would soon follow. Her girlfriends were going off to college and she herself was to leave for Penn State at the end of August. Everyone promised to write everyone, but Billie knew that soon each would find a life and interests of his own. Slowly but surely the letters would cease. Oh, they'd see one another over

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the holidays or during the summer, but this part of their lives was over. God alone knew when they'd see any of the boys again, if ever. It was sad and it made tonight seem even more special.

There was going to be an all-night party at a classmate's after the dance. Agnes had already given permission for her to stay out until after the champagne breakfast the parents planned to serve. Billie giggled to herself. The poor girl. Billie knew for a fact that most of the couples had other plans. Oh, they'd make an appearance at the party, but then they'd leave. That's exactly what she'd like to do, only she didn't know how to broach the subject with Moss. She knew he'd be bored. Maybe she could suggest driving up to Atlantic City. They could walk on the beach and watch the sunrise. That would be the perfect ending to a perfect night.

Just the thought of spending an entire night with Moss, of lying beside him on a blanket on the beach, was so romantic that she rolled over on her bed and pressed her face into the pillow. Strange things were happening inside her, dark longings and a yearning ache that quickened her pulses whenever she was with him, whenever he touched her. She'd looked in the mirror to see if this change showed on her face. It seemed to be Billie Ames's face but she didn't feel like Billie Ames inside. She ached, her breasts tingled, there was an emptiness in the center of her. She wanted Moss to touch her breasts and fill this emptiness. She wanted it so badly that there seemed to be a bubble of sadness at the back of her throat. Tears were always so near the surface that she found herself biting them back throughout the days until she was with him again. The romance magazines called this feeling passion. But they never said passion could hurt this way.

Moss buttoned the last button on his white jacket. He knew he was going to take a lot of ribbing when he made his way out to the officers' lounge. A high school graduation! That was for sailors.

"Wheweee," Thad Kingsley whistled. "You're gonna throw all those little ladies into a tailspin."

"Smell him!" heckled his buddy Jack. "Smells like he's been in a French whorehouse. All them mamas of all them little girls are gonna have heart palpitations."

"Knock it off," Moss said, grinning.

"Handsome devil, but," said another young officer, wagging

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a finger, "it ain't no fun being just a plain old handsome devil unless he's planning on being a sinful handsome devil." The others laughed, enjoying Moss's discomfort.

"How old you say this little gal is? Seventeen, you say? For shame, man, you're robbing the cradle. Pure as the driven snow, right?" Jack cackled.

"Shut the hell up. Jack. Don't you have anything better to do than ride me?"

"Not unless we all dress up like you and stand outside. What say we do that, guys? Maybe some of them little girls will fall all over us and invite us for Sunday dinner. Why should Moss have all the fun? Does that little gal know you been laying every girl between here and New York City?"

"I told you to knock it off—^I mean it," Moss snarled. The fun was getting out of hand. Truth always bothered Moss when it was delivered by someone else.

"What are you going to do, sic the admiral on us?" Thad teased. "Come on, guys, let's go find some fun of our own. Coleman has things to do and places to go." To show that it was all in fun, the guys clapped Moss on the back as they left the lounge.