Page 79 of West Wind

“Well?” she asked impatiently. “Is he here?”

“Not at the moment.”

He relaxed, a little. Perhaps he could turn Dorothea’s visit to their advantage. Time was running out. Annabelle had attempted to pretend that she was weaker than she really was, but she wasn’t very good at lying to Travis. All he had to do was look at her and frown, and she tried to convince him that she was fine. She couldn’t disguise the fact that her color was returning to normal, that her eyes sparkled with good health. Any day now Travis might decide to disappear, and it could be years before he returned. If he ever did.

“I must see him,” Dorothea pleaded. “Marrying Lewis was a terrible mistake, I knew it less than a month after the wedding. I lived with that mistake for ten years. There weren’t even children to fill the lonely hours. When I saw Travis five years ago, I knew there would never be another man for me. I can convince him that we belong together. He still loves me, I know he does.”

Dorothea didn’t wear desperation well. Her face flushed and her blue eyes darted from side to side as she avoided his stare. Perhaps she knew he recognized her for what she really was, a rich, bored, spoiled princess, longing for what she’d thrown aside years earlier.

“I don’t know,” he said, grimacing. “It’s been a long time. Travis has changed.”

They both heard Annabelle’s voice at the same time, as she tiptoed down the staircase calling for Shelley. If Bart had been less composed he would’ve laughed out loud. How perfect! He couldn’t have planned it any better himself, and he was a master schemer, if he did say so himself.

He went to the doorway and called Annabelle in, taking her arm as she entered the room. She’d left her hair down; it had been brushed until it was like silk, straight and thick. She wore, and oh how perfect this was, one of Travis’s shirts over her tight britches, the loose shirt tied at her waist with a red sash she’d obviously found in one of the drawers. A pair of his socks, sagging and much too large, covered her feet. She looked absolutely charming.

“Annabelle St. Clair.” Bart led her to the chair he’d occupied earlier. “I’d like you to meet an old family friend. Dorothea Cole. She heard Travis was in town and stopped by to see him.”

Annabelle graciously greeted the blonde who was visibly shocked. Her appearance had completely thrown Dorothea. There was no sign of the chubby girl she’d mentioned seeing just three years ago.

“Where is he?” Annabelle’s smile faded. “When I woke up and he wasn’t there…”

“He said he was going to town and would be back this afternoon.” It was all Bart could do to contain his laughter. Dorothea’s face had gone red; her lips pursed tightly. She was unaccustomed to competition.

The stately blonde perched on the edge of her chair, her calculating eyes riveted on her rival. “I understand you’ve had quite an adventure, Miss St. Clair.”

“More adventure than I expected to see in a lifetime,” Annabelle said. “If it hadn’t been for Shelley I probably wouldn’t be here today.”

“Who’s Shelley?”

Annabelle laughed, a light, musical sound. “I can’t get accustomed to calling him Travis. He’ll always be Shelley to me.” Her words, though innocent, implied an intimacy in their relationship.

Dorothea smiled; the two women sat there grinning oddly at one another. These were not joyful smiles, not at all. The chill in the room almost caused Bart to shiver.

“Travis is so kind to those who are less fortunate.” Dorothea broke the strained silence. “He always was. I remember how he’d bring home birds with broken wings, and kittens who’d been abandoned. He’d fix them up and let them go, or fatten them up and find them a good home. That’s just his nature.”

My God, Bart thought, the woman could lie with a straight face.

With an unconcerned flick of her hand, Annabelle tossed a strand of thick hair over her shoulder. If not for the flash in her eyes, he would’ve thought her unaffected by Dorothea’s comment. Instead of reacting angrily she placed her hands in her lap and cocked her head to one side. “Well, Shelley certainly took excellent care of me when I was… well, when I was having difficulties.”

Dorothea relaxed visibly. “You must be anxious to return to a normal life, back to your career. Paris? Isn’t that where you make your home? Such a beautiful city.”

“I’m not at all anxious to leave San Francisco,” Annabelle said. “It has a beauty all its own. Don’t you agree?”

A heavy silence fell. Bart grinned as he looked from one woman to the other. He couldn’t have dimmed his instinctive smile even if he’d wanted to.

“I have an idea!” he exclaimed. “Since you’re feeling so much better, let’s have a small dinner party.” This was simply too entertaining to allow it to end. “Tomorrow night. You’ll come, won’t you, Dorothea? All hush-hush, of course. We don’t want the press to know where our guest is just yet.”

Annabelle lifted an exasperated face to him. “I don’t think⁠—”

“What a wonderful suggestion,” Dorothea said, standing as though ready to leave. “You have my assurance I won’t breathe a word to anyone, Miss St. Clair.”

“Shelley won’t like⁠—”

“Nonsense,” he declared. Before he could continue his protestations, Travis entered the room, his countenance dark, his boots striking against the polished floor with a vengeance.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

Dorothea smiled victoriously. “Darling, you saw my carriage…”