She gave a guilty start at the plaintive sound of her sister’s voice. Amelia had been napping in her own room, but obviously had just awakened.
Turning slowly, Summer hesitated to answer. She dreaded the upcoming discussion, but it couldn’t be put off any longer. Lance was here, and demanding his rights as her husband, and she couldn’t, wouldn’t, turn him away.
She gave her sister a bright smile, or tried to, as Amelia entered the room. “I’m putting out flowers, Melly. You know how much you enjoy fresh-cut flowers.”
“But why here?”
“Because…” Summer took a deep breath. “Because Lance has come home. And this is to be his room. Our room.”
“This…? He means to live here?” Amelia’s voice had grown high and breathless. “In our home?”
“Yes, in our home. He’s my husband now—”
“No! I won’t have him in this house!”
“You don’t mean that, Melly,” Summer said stiffly. “You—”
“I do so mean it! He can’t stay here!” Her face flushed with fury as she stamped her foot. “He’s a savage! I won’t allow it. I won’t eat or sleep in the same house as one of those horrible creatures, even if he is your husband!”
Summer sighed as an impossible tiredness flooded her. Reminding herself of all her sister had been through, though, she tried to restrain her impatience. “I should think you would be grateful for all he did for you, Amelia. Lance risked his own life twice to save you—”
“I don’t care what he did! He’s a rutting beast! God, I don’t see how you can bear to have him touch you!” Amelia shuddered violently while her tone held revulsion. “How could you? How could you have married a heathen like him?”
“It was easy,” Summer retorted, losing a measure of control as well as her temper. “He promised to try and rescue you if I became his wife. I chose you, Melly. If you want the truth, I only marri
ed him for your sake. I think you should be grateful that I was willing to make such a sacrifice!”
The words had scarcely left her mouth when she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Jerking her head up, Summer gazed beyond Amelia in dismay.
Lance stood in the doorway, his wet hair slicked back, his face frozen in an expression that was no expression. Except that she could see the anguish in his eyes, stark and raw and excruciating to watch. It was gone in an instant, replaced by a grim defiance, cold and hard as granite, but it was clear he had overheard their argument.
“Lance…” Summer breathed.
Amelia whirled, clutching the lapels of the wrapper to her throat. Her gaze fixed on Lance, she backed up a step, then another, as if expecting him suddenly to attack her. “Get out! Get out of this house! You aren’t welcome here!”
His gaze, so piercing and insolent now when a moment before it had held agony, shifted slowly from Summer to Amelia. “I’d say you’ve made that real clear, ma’am. I’d say both of you have.”
“Lance, no…!” Summer cried softly.
Her sister retreated another step but stamped her slippered foot. “You aren’t staying in this house!” She turned to Summer, her eyes wild. “I won’t live here with him! I won’t! I won’t.” Abruptly she burst into tears.
Reflexively Summer put an arm around Amelia’s shoulder, trying to console her, even though she wanted more to reach out to Lance. He didn’t look, however, as if he would accept consolation from anyone, especially her.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he said with a cynical drawl—to either or both of them, Summer wasn’t certain. “You won’t have to put up with me any longer.”
Spinning on his heel, he quit the room.
Horrified by his obvious misinterpretation of her words, knowing she was greatly to blame, Summer nevertheless turned her frustration on her sister. “Melly, how could you!”
Amelia began crying harder, but Summer couldn’t summon the will or take the time to comfort her. She owed her husband more than that. “Lance, wait!” Calling after him, she brushed past her sister and followed him.
By the time she gained the stairway, Lance had already bounded down the stairs and was striding down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. A moment later, as she reached the bottom step, she heard the back door slam.
He was heading for the barn, she knew with instinctive certainty. He was going to leave, to ride away just as he had five years ago when her father had driven him off the ranch. He would leave just like last time, thinking the worst about her. that she was cruel and selfish and totally heartless.
No, she wouldn’t let it happen again! She wouldn’t let him go. Not this way. Not at all. Not after all she owed him.
Her heart pounding in her throat, Summer picked up her skirts and ran.