CHAPTER TWO

The old home-place lay sprawled among the rolling hills of an east Texas meadow. Towering cottonwoods whispered the music of the wind like chimes. Wild buttercups grew in the meadows. An old two-story frame house stood majestically in the background. In the distance an occasional sunflower peeped over the horizon, stretching itself towards the morning sun. It was a serene place. It was home, and Dixie quickly realized how much she'd missed it. Born here, she felt her roots stirring old memories.

After a wonderful day with her family, and Emily reassuring her they would talk later, Dixie began to feel at home again.

Finally left to her solitude, she wandered near the well-manicured grounds of the cemetery down the road. She'd been afraid of this particular cemetery for years. The tall cottonwoods spread a mighty shade over the lawns.

In reality she supposed death might not be her real fear, it was more the process of dying. Death was such an active partner in her life. Not hers, but her loved ones. One by one, they had died on her.

She found her family's graves without any trouble. She knelt beside her sister's grave first, she gently slid a finger over the letters on the stone. It was cold. Not at all like her sister. Audrey had always been a warm, vibrant person, full of life and possibilities.

A northern breeze filtered the air, stirring the dead leaves about the grounds like a ghost swishing through an old house.

"Oh, Audrey, I miss you. I'm so sorry I missed the memorial service but I was already on a plane for Australia when I heard about it. I almost couldn't go on stage again..." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "At least you're with our parents now. You aren't alone. Probably less lonely than me. I miss you so." A tear spilled. "I've come home 'cause Emily called and asked me to. That, and to put old ghosts away, so I can get on with my life. You knew how infatuated I was with Kevin. I thought it a childish crush, but I wanted to be sure. I have to be sure."

She moved her fingers slowly over each letter. "Something is going on I think, but Emily's not ready to talk about it. I don't know what, yet. I guess she'll tell me in good time. And the boys--oh, how they've grown. And into such little gentlemen, too."

Another tear spilled.

"It feels good to be home, Audrey, but I can't stay long. My life is in New York now. I've met a man, a man I work with, who has serious intentions. Problem is, I'm not sure how I feel. I hate putting him off, but I'm not sure. I mean, Ed just doesn't give me that bubbly feeling of being in love. Maybe I expect too much. I guess deep down I felt that coming home might give me a few answers. Maybe I haven't put my feelings for Kevin away, yet. Or maybe I just don't love Ed. All I know is, I've got to find answers."

Her hand shook. Tears Dixie had held too long poured freely. Why did crying always release the tension? Such a release, she mused silently. She placed the fresh wild-flowers at the head of her sister's grave and she watched her own tears being soaked up by the hot, dry ground. It felt good, and right, being here alone, able to cry.

"Buttercups and Indian paintbrushes, your favorites," she murmured. "You used to say they were God's flowers, put on earth to be cherished."

Dixie had no idea how long she stayed there, kneeling over the graves, talking as though someone might answer, but the sun was slowly sinking when she finally straightened and got to her feet.

Hearing a noise behind her, she turned in time to see her mother's old friend, Mrs. Butie. She called a hello. Mrs. Butie clutched at the expensive flower arrangement in her hands as she proceeded to a far corner of the cemetery, where she turned to stare at Dixie. Mrs. Butie's husband had died nearly twenty years ago, but she always placed flowers on his grave one a month.

Suddenly, Dixie wished she'd chosen something more appropriate to wear. It wouldn't make a difference to anyone but her; everyone had his or her own preconceived ideas about her by now. Small towns were like that. Nothing she did or said would change them. Cut-offs and a T-shirt seemed out of place with Mrs. Butie staring at her so.

Pulling her large frame rigid and adjusting the midriff of her dress with a snort, Mrs. Butie grunted. "I'd heard you'd come home. And we all know why." Mrs. Butie pulled the few weeds about the older grave site.

Dixie bowed her head, confused by the outburst and hurt by the sting in Mrs. Butie's voice. How could Mrs. Butie know why she was home? She wasn't sure herself. "Good to see you again, Mrs. Butie," she called and walked away, trying not to run or look back. Not a very clever comeback, but then Dixie had never been clever with words.

Life was unfair. She couldn't make Mrs. Butie like her, so she wouldn't try.

There was a special place where Dixie escaped when things became too difficult to handle. It was nothing more than an old oak tree, yet somehow the tree gave comfort to those in need. It wasn't far down the road from where she lived. There were a lot of names engraved on that old tree, hers included.

Dixie hurried towards the tree as dark clouds began to gather and manifest into an early summer storm. At first there were only a few large sprinkles, and Dixie thought she might escape the storm altogether. She finally reached the oak tree. Nothing had changed. It still stood majestically looking out onto a wheat field to one side and a deep ravine to the other.

Once she reached it, she felt safe. Even though trees weren't the best place during a storm she knew this particular tree would never harm her. It gave too much solace. She sat down for a minute, resting against it. As a child she had called this her thinking tree. And Dixie had a lot of thinking to do.

She knew immediately she had to see Kevin, and gauge her reactions to him. Why it had become such an obsession with her she didn't know, but it had. Perhaps it was because Ed, her agent, had asked her to marry him and she felt so uncertain. Ed was wonderful, but when he kissed her she didn't see stars. When he proposed it wasn't in a romantic setting, it was at work. She needed a break, to get away and see if her heart missed him. And seeing Kevin might put it all in the proper perspective.

She had so loved Kevin as a young girl growing up, and he had never given her much encouragement. Still, she couldn't marry another man without being sure that her feelings for Kevin were in fact just infatuation.

Suddenly lightning and thunder roared above her. She clung to the big trunk of the tree. She was in a dangerous place, and had to leave. She waited patiently for the rain to slacken. But the storm wasn't bashful; it seemed to magnify her sorrow, the wind whipping the huge limbs about, and a low creaking sound emanated from it.

Already soaked, her shorts felt heavy against her bare legs and her t-shirt plastered her breasts like a mask. Her dark hair dangled against her shoulders limply.

Glancing upward she saw the branches of the tree swaying heavily in the wind, performing some primitive dance about her. The leaves floated in little rivulets down the hillside. Just below, the gully was quickly filling with water. She'd have to cross it to get to the road. Going the other direction led to the cemetery.

The rain became erratic, first in heavy sheets so she couldn't see. She waited for the next slack before darting down the steep ravine. Small branches tore at her ankles as she practically slid down the incline. An old piece of barbed wire caught at her t-shirt as she continued toward the ravine and hit the ground with a thud. She felt the rip and the deep prickling of her skin as the wire stabbed her in the ribs. Still, she managed to keep a steady pace, groping for a better foothold as she tried to cross the ravine.

She kept reassuring herself there was no need to panic. It was only a gully-washer and she'd be fine once she crossed the ravine. The house was only a couple of miles down the road. She'd be home soon, drying off and wondering why she ever thought such wild thoughts.

Still the road seemed further and further away, as though it had moved.

Deliberately, she slowed her pace, calming herself. Don't panic, she told herself. Surely there was something humorous in this. Where had her sense of adventure gone? The fact that she'd always managed to get herself in some kind of trouble crossed her mind. Goodness, it was only a rainstorm.

Yet, as the rain became violent again and beat at her from all directions, the wind changed, and it was increasingly difficult to catch her breath. Without warning she plunged downward, towards the rapidly rising water. She lost a tennis shoe as she continued to slide. The water was moving like a small river now, rushing over rocks, making a gurgling sound.

As she began making her way across the flooded ravine, her foot lodged solidly between what felt like an old tree root and a rock. She tried to wiggle the rock, but it wasn't budging. She tried again; still nothing.

"Don't panic," she screamed aloud this time. Things like this always worked out in the movies. Any minute she would loosen the rock and move away, unhindered.

It wasn't as though she were about to die, for goodness sake. All she had to do was keep her head and wait until the water itself dislodged the rock.

The sound of rushing water brought her gaze around. She felt it rising against her legs. "Get hold of yourself," she scolded, looking about her to see if anyone had been watching or listening to her tirade. There was no one about. She was alone, very alone.

Everything would be fine as long as she didn't do something foolish. She simply needed some kind of lever, something with which to pry the rock away.

"It's right over there, if I can just reach it!" she shouted to herself. If she could just reach it, she could pry herself loose. She strained forward, her fingertips barely grazing the branch. If she didn't work fast, it would float completely out of reach. She leveled the unrestricted part of her body with the water, as she tried again to grab the branch. It was at her fingertips.

The torn t-shirt floated about her in split rags. She felt the cold water splashing against her nearly exposed breast. Darn! Why hadn't she worn a bra? Why hadn't she dressed more appropriately? And yet, this was certainly not the time to worry over modesty.

She tensed as her trapped foot seemed to lodge deeper and the current rushed over her hips. The water was rising. She had to hurry. The ground had been so dry and the water wasn't soaking in.

Finally, she grasped the branch and began working along the edge of her foot. She couldn't see what she was doing; the storm had darkened the sky like someone pulling down the blinds. The rock moved, but not as she planned. Instead it struck several painful blows to the bottom of her foot and lodged her deeper. She was burying herself!

She could see the obituary now, Rising water takes rock star Dixie Kincaid's life.

The water rose steadily now, nearly covering her midriff. Dear God, it was just a gully. She couldn't drown ... could she? The rain pounded on her like crabapples falling off a tree. She could feel the frantic struggle going on inside herself to survive. Her mind must be working way too fast.

"Maybe you deserve to die!" she cried aloud.

Then suddenly something dark and ominous encompassed her. Against the roaring of the water, and the extreme darkness she couldn't tell what was happening.

A voice came from nowhere, startling her. "Hold on, sweetheart, you're not dead yet!" came a low drawling voice that had her heart hammering against her chest with relief.

It was Mike, of all people. She knew it even before she could actually see him. She could almost feel those tiger-eyes sparkling through the darkness, and see the pearl white of his teeth beneath the broad brim of his western hat. Her heart fluttered wildly as he came closer, trying to scoop her up against him.

"My foot," she cried out as he realized just how trapped she was.

He flicked his hat away with the back of his hand, and dipped his hands beneath the surface of the water to find the icy cold foot still deeply embedded. Gently he tugged and pulled but nothing happened

She heard him grunt, as he bent to the task of dislodging her foot with a vengeance. He grabbed the stick, then ducked under the water to try to dislodge the rock. He came up every now and then to reassure her. As though him saying it would make it all come right. Oddly enough she believed him and a sense of calm overcame her.

When nothing worked, she heard him mumble in an angry tone, and then he went totally under the water. Before long she heard a loud swishing, and felt the release of her foot as it came free.

Coming up slowly, the rock and a pocketknife in one hand, her foot in the other, he laughed.

But Dixie wasn't laughing. She was frozen. He scooped her into his arms, pulling her from the current rushing about their waists. Dixie's hands glided automatically around his neck. The last two things she remembered was shuddering violently into a black void and that his arms around her seemed like a whole world of protection for her. She'd never been this safe in all her life.

Later, she was mildly aware of voices moving about her in a rush, as Mike carried her inside her house. A half-hour later, Dixie's eyes opened to a room full of people.

"Grandma Emmy, she's awake." A beautiful pixie sat the foot of her bed.

Perhaps she was dreaming.

"Dixie." Emily came forward, bending over her and taking her hand in her own. "Oh, child, you gave us such a scare. We thought you were dead when Mike brought you in."

"I thought so, too," she murmured as Mike pivoted around to lock gazes with her.

"Thank God Mike found you when he did. If he hadn't been out rounding up strays for old man Tucker just before the storm hit, he might not have spotted you. He said it was so dark he didn't know who or what it was but he spotted something thrashing around in the ravine. He thought you were a calf at first. You had us so worried, dear. We thought you went to the cemetery."

Dixie rubbed her eyes, as though to clear them. Straightening herself she met the concerned stares of her brothers. "I'm sorry. I did go to the cemetery; I just walked for a while, afterwards. I wanted to think."

Emily Kincaid worried too much, and Dixie warmed to the instant compassion. She hadn't had anyone fuss over her in years. She regretted now that she'd failed to notice her stepmother's attributes when her father was alive, giving him all her attention. How unfair she must have seemed, and what a loving woman Emily was not to hold a grudge.

Mike walked to the edge of the bed, a slow, lazy smile playing at his mouth. He was still wet, his jeans clung to him like a second skin, and there were traces of dried mud, but no one seemed to mind.

Suddenly conscious of the way she must have looked when he brought her home, she snuggled deeper under the covers. Then her gaze took in the little girl at the foot of her bed. She had big brown eyes and nearly black hair. She was beautiful, but not a pixie.

"Hello, who are you?" Dixie asked her.

"I'm Mandy. Amanda. Are you going to get well?"

"What a beautiful name. I think I'm going to be fine." Dixie smiled looking about the room for explanations and locking gazes with Mike. "I guess I owe you my life, Mike. I bet I was a mess." She could barely manage to look at Mike.

Mike scrutinized her pale face, "Your foot sure is. I'm just glad I happened by. If Old Man Tucker's gate hadn't broken and half his cows got out, I might never have seen you. Sorry, but I thought you were a stuck calf when I first spotted you."

Emily patted her hand, "Come on, Mandy, let's go get Dixie a bowl of hot soup, and you a cookie." Emily waved the child from the edge of the bed and the boys from the room.

"Thanks, Emily. It sounds wonderful." Dixie smiled.

She rose up and let the covers fall, only to grab them again when Mike took a chair and drew it close to her bed. "You've been to the old oak tree, haven't you?"

Dixie squirmed. "I..." she started but he finished for her.

"It's still there, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. Yours and Kevin's initials. I'd half hoped you'd gotten over him by now. But I guess some things never change."

"I didn't even look. That's not why I--"

"Maybe, but you would have, if the storm hadn't caught you."

"Can we leave this for another time? I'm not up to fighting with you or anyone else about Kevin."

"No fight, sweetheart, but I think it's time someone told you he's happily married. And a word of advice, leave it at that." There was a steel edge of impatience in his voice that he didn't bother restraining.

"It was years ago, Mike. I didn't go there to moon over Kevin. And I'm glad he's happy. I've grown up a little since then, you know."

"Yeah, I've noticed." He cleared his throat and smiled. "And we'll leave it 'til another time, but there are a couple of things you need to know about that night. It's been seven years. You say you're over him. That's great, if it's the truth, but now I'd like a chance to explain my side of it. Maybe we can reach a level of understanding between us. You seem to resent me for some reason and I'd like to know why. I've never told anyone about that night, and don't intend to. I'm pretty involved with your family as you can see, and I don't want anything messing that up. The only thing I'm guilty of, Dixie, is being a little overprotective."

"Don't you think Kevin is old enough to take care of himself?"

"I wasn't protecting Kevin, sweetheart." His glance slid over her thoroughly. With that said he stood up, ruffled her hair and smiled. "I'm glad you're all right."

"Thanks," she said hesitantly. He was about to leave the room when her words stopped him. Tension seemed to stretch across the broad expanse of his back. "So you've married and had a family?"

"I did, and I have. But my wife's dead, Dixie."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know, Mike. I--"

"How could you? You haven't been around enough to know about anyone around here. The last time you were home, you flew in, went to the funeral and flew out before nightfall."

Dixie nodded then glanced up at him again.

"What happened?"

"Car wreck."

"I am so sorry."

"It happened a long time ago. Amanda was still a baby. She's nearly four now. She hasn't had much family. Connie's family lives in Florida, and my folks are dead, as you know. Amanda only has me--and your family and her uncle. She's latched onto Emily like a grandmother. Nothing I could do to prevent it, and I finally stopped trying. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't. She's a lovely child."

Mike shuffled his feet.

Dixie pulled the covers up over her more.

"So, why haven't you remarried and given that little girl a new mother?"

"Maybe I'm still looking for the right woman." His expression told her nothing, but the frown never left his face as he strode out of the room.

Right woman? Right man? It sounded as though Mike were as displaced as she.

Memories flooded Dixie's mind. Trying to shut them out, she closed her eyes. What happened that night so long ago could never be erased or changed. Star-struck over the neighbor's younger son, Dixie had gone to the Dalton house, unaware that Kevin was attending an auction with his brother.

She had stood there for what seemed like an hour trying to make up her mind if she should wait for Kevin. Finally, she had to let herself in the house. After all, she had reasoned, it had been storming and she was saturated.

Very few people locked their doors in the country, so it seemed only logical that she let herself in. She was chilled to the bone. After checking to make sure Kevin or his brother Mike weren't in the house, she lit the kitchen oven. Her clothes were dripping wet, and she slowly peeled them off and hung them on the oven door to dry out. She went to find something to wrap up in. She found a big, white, terrycloth robe hanging behind the door in the master-bathroom. She took it down, strode back to the oven and was about to wrap herself in it when the door opened. She had only managed one arm of it, when Kevin and Mike walked into the kitchen. Kevin spotted her first and stood paralyzed to the spot. In her horror she grabbed at the robe, trying to cover herself. She let out a small cry as she fumbled with the coverings. Water still dripped from her hair, making a small puddle on the floor. Silence invaded the old house. This was not how it was supposed to happen. She merely wanted to talk to Kevin, alone, without her friends and family around. This wasn't even seductive, it was just embarrassing.

But there he stood, staring, his mouth hanging open. Kevin was unable to act or react to the situation. The look on his face was not one of a lover, but rather the look of a man stricken. He said and did nothing. It was Mike who acted.

Mike strode straight to her side, and gently pulled the robe around her. Without so much as a word, he drove her home. How he managed to get her inside her house without anyone finding out, she never knew.

Maybe it was his warning that had stuck with her, haunted her. "If I were you, I wouldn't set my cap for Kevin."

The next morning, Dixie glanced at her bed in dismay. It was drenched. Emily was there, offering to wash the sheets. "Perhaps I should call the doctor. You must have had a fever through the night. You look so weak."

Dixie squirmed uncomfortably. "I'm glad you didn't. I'm fine, really. You're a doll, Mom, to worry so much."

Dixie watched as Emily fussed with the bedding. Emily was still a very nice looking woman. Her brown hair was gently fading to gray, but it managed to bring out the glorious blue of her eyes. She was small and delicate looking, but Dixie knew her spirit was that of a tiger.

Will and Tom peeked through the open doorway. Two red-heads with freckles and big smiles on their faces. On their way to summer school, they were in a hurry.

It was Tom who broke the silence between the three of them as they stared at her. "We've missed you. We hope you'll stay around for a while. We don't want to sound mushy or anything, but we kinda like having you around."

Dixie smiled. "I kinda like being around. I nearly forgot what wonderful brothers I have."

Will came to stand just in front of her. "Mike told us you probably wouldn't be staying long and not to get too attached to having you here. Is that right?"

"Mike?" Again?

"He just didn't want us getting our hopes up too much. He's been like a big brother to us since you've been gone. And Mandy has sorta adopted us. They stop by all the time. He helps Mom any time she needs him. I guess we've sorta come to depend on him a lot. Anyway, we go frog giggin' together," Will said quietly as his mother hastened him out of the room.

A brother! Mike?

Alone once more, Dixie contemplated this new bit of information. It sounded as though Mike had become a permanent fixture around the place.

She let the cool morning breeze filter through the sheer nylon curtains and smiled as she listened contentedly to a mockingbird perched on a tree limb by her window. She had forgotten how peaceful it was here.

Her room seemed untouched after all this time. Everything in its rightful place, just waiting for her to come back to it. The maple bedroom set was two or three generations old and well preserved. The thick quilted bedspread with the hand embroidered spring flowers was draped across the foot of her bed. Some of her very own handiwork.

Coming home had already accomplished one thing; it brought Dixie back to earth and closer to her family.

"There's a long distance call from an Ed, dear. I'll bring the phone in to you. You stay put," Emily called from the hallway.

Feeling pampered and enjoying it, Dixie leaned back on the pillows and watched her dote. "Thanks, Mom." Sitting up in the bed she eagerly took the phone.

"Hello love," came the familiar English voice on the other end. She wished Ed wouldn't call her names like that, but he was English. "Are you all right? I rang through last night, but they said you were ill. Naturally, I've been out of my mind worrying about you."

Dixie tried to stifle her laughter, noting the huskiness in her own voice that rattled just a little. "Well, you can stop worrying. I'm being taken care of like royalty here."

Ed seemed in no humor. "I was really worried about you," he rasped. "Are you sure everything is okay? Your voice is a little broken up."

Dixie stuck her tongue out at the receiver. "Don't be angry with me, Ed. Besides, when I thought I'd breathed my last, I thought of you."

"Stop that," came the sharp reprimand. "Do you hear me, you ninny? Now--tell me, is everything going well? The locals giving you a hard go of it?"

"No, not at all."

"Well, despite your courage, your despondency is showing, love," he declared as though he were an authority on her moods.

She frowned at the phone again. She wasn't despondent. Exhausted maybe, but not despondent. Ed wanted to think that. He wanted her to come running. "No, Ed, everything is fine, really. But I do have a sprained ankle and I'll be hopping around here for a while."

Ed gave that strange little strangled sound he always uttered when he was upset. "A sprained ankle? I knew something bad was going to happen to you. But at least this will give you plenty of time to consider my proposal. Your voice is okay, isn't it?"

"It's fine, Ed." She snarled at the phone. So much for romance. "I've got to go now. But I'll give it some thought. I promise." Her voice broke just a fraction, but she cleared it and went on, "You're winning ground all the time."

Why had she said that? She wasn't the least bit in love with Ed and she knew it. How she had suddenly reached that conclusion was beyond her comprehension, but she knew it as sure as she knew her name.

"Do you mean it?"

"Maybe by the time I get back to work, I'll have made a decision."

"Now, Dixie, this isn't a joke we're talking about. You aren't purchasing clothes or something. I happen to really love you. But I won't settle for any half measures. It's all or nothing."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I wasn't aware I made it sound so cold and calculating. But this is a big step. It's an important step, and I don't want to make any mistakes. I need some time to myself right now."

Satisfied he calmed down. "Okay, I think I understand. We have come a long way today--and on the phone at that. Dear sweet love, I wish I were there to kiss the hurts away. I miss you. These meetings are such a bore. I feel so bad over you being gone, that I might even lose an account. I wish I were there with you."

Dixie felt herself redden. "Yeah, I'll bet. You forget I've been to a few of those meetings myself, Ed. They're anything but dull. And I'm sure you don't have to be alone!"

Ed hesitated. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be..."

Dixie frowned. For a man in love he didn't sound too happy about it. "Don't let me spoil your fun, Ed. We aren't attached you know. We aren't even engaged. You're free to do what you want. In fact, I prefer it that way. Because when I do settle down, it'll be for good."

"You sound tired, love. I'll ring off and call you later. Get some rest," he ordered.

Dixie nodded automatically. "Yes, you're right again. I am tired." She hung up the phone and cried into her pillow until she fell asleep again. Men haunted her life. Her father died much too early in her life, Ed relied on her at work, Kevin ignored her, and Mike--she wasn't sure what Mike thought of her. Or why she suddenly cared.