The Wedding In White. Diana Palmer
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home.”
“He’s only gone out with her twice,” her best friend continued, unabashed, “and he didn’t even have lipstick on his shirt when he came home. They just went to a movie together.”
“I’m sure your brother didn’t get to his present age without learning how to get around lipstick stains,” she said belligerently.
“The ladies seem to like him,” Vivian said.
“Until he speaks and ruins his image,” Natalie added. “His idea of diplomacy is a gun and a smile. If Glenna likes him, it’s only because she’s taped his mouth shut!”
Vivian laughed helplessly. “I guess that could be true,” she confessed. “But he is a refreshing change from all the politically correct people who are afraid to open their mouths at all.”
“I suppose so.”
Vivian stood up. “Natalie?”
“What?”
She stared at her friend quietly. “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”
Natalie turned quickly toward the door. She wasn’t going to answer. “I really have got to go. I have exams next week, and I’d better hit the books hard. It wouldn’t do to flub my exams and not graduate,” she added.
Vivian wanted to tell Natalie that she had a pretty good idea of what had happened between her and Mack so long ago, but it would embarrass Natalie if she came right out with it. Her friend was so repressed.
“I don’t know what happened,” she lied, “but you have to remember, you were just seventeen. He was twenty-three.”
Natalie turned, her face pale and shocked. “He…told you?”
“He didn’t tell me anything,” Vivian said softly and honestly. She hadn’t needed to be told. Her brother and her best friend had given it away themselves without a word. She smiled. “But you walked around in a constant state of misery and wouldn’t come near the place when he was home. He wouldn’t be at home if he knew you were coming over to see me. I figured he’d probably said something really harsh and you’d had a terrible fight.”
Natalie’s face closed up. “The past is best left buried,” she said curtly.
“I’m not prying. I’m just making an observation.”
“I’ll come Saturday night, but only because he won’t let Whit come if I don’t,” Natalie said a little stiffly.
“I’ll never mention it again,” Vivian said, and Natalie knew what she meant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up something painful.”
“No harm done. I’d long since forgotten.” The lie slid glibly from her tongue, and she smiled one last time at Vivian before she went out the door. Pretending it didn’t matter was the hardest thing she’d done in years.
Chapter Two
Natalie sat in the elementary-school classroom the next morning, bleary-eyed from having been up so late the night before studying for her final exams. It was imperative that she read over her notes in all her classes every night so that when the exam schedule was posted, she’d be ready. She’d barely had time to think, and she didn’t want to. She never wanted to remember again how it had been that night when she was seventeen and Mack had held her in the darkness.
Mrs. Ringgold’s gentle voice, reminding her that it was time to start handwriting practice, brought her to the present. She apologized and organized the class into small groups around the two large class tables. Mrs. Ringgold took one and she the other as they guided the children through the cursive alphabet, taking time to study each effort and offer praise and corrections where they were necessary.
It was during lunch that she met Dave Markham in the line.
“You look smug today,” he said with a smile. He was tall and slender, but not in the same way that Mack was. Dave was an intellectual who liked classical music and literature. He couldn’t ride or rope and he knew next to nothing about agriculture. But he was sweet, and at least he was someone Natalie could date without having to worry about fighting him off after dessert.
“Mrs. Ringgold says I’m doing great in the classroom,” she advised. “Professor Bailey comes to observe me tomorrow. Then, next week, finals.” She made a mock shiver.
“You’ll pass,” he said, smiling. “Everybody’s terrified of exams, but if you read your notes once a day, you won’t have any trouble with them.”
“I wish I could read my notes,” she confided in a low tone. “If Professor Bailey could flunk me on handwriting, I’d already be out on my ear.”
“And you’re teaching children how to write?” Dave asked in mock horror.
She glared at him. “Listen, I can tell people how to do things I can’t do. It’s all a matter of using authority in your voice.”
“You do that pretty well,” he had to admit. “I hear you had a good tutor.”
“What?”
“McKinzey Killain,” he offered.
“Mack,” she corrected. “Nobody calls him McKinzey.”
“Everybody calls him Mr. Killain, except you,” he corrected. “And from what I hear, most people around here try not to call him at all.”
“He’s not so bad,” she said. “He just has a little problem with diplomacy.”
“Yes. He doesn’t know what it is.”
“In his tax bracket, you don’t have to.” She chuckled. “Are you really going to eat liver and onions?” she asked, glancing at his plate and making a face.
“Organ meats are healthy. Lots healthier than that,” he returned, making a face at her taco. “Your stomach will dissolve from jalapeño peppers.”
“My stomach is made of cast iron, thanks.”
“How about a movie Saturday night?” he asked. “That new science fiction movie is on at the Grand.”
“I’d love to…oh, I’m sorry, I can’t,” she corrected, grimacing. “I promised Vivian I’d come to supper that night.”
“Is that a regular thing?” he wanted to know.
“Only when Vivian wants to bring a special man home,” she said with a rueful smile. “Mack says if I don’t come, her boyfriend can’t come.”
He gave her an odd look. “Why?”
She hesitated with her tray, looking for a place to sit. “Why? I don’t know. He just made it a condition. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t show up and he could put Viv off. He doesn’t like the boy at all.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Where did all these people come from?” she asked, curious because there were hardly any seats vacant at the teachers’ table.
“Visiting committee from the board of education. They’re here to study the space problem,” he added amusedly.
“They should be able to see that there isn’t any space, especially now.”
“We’re hoping they may agree to budget an addition for us, so that we can get rid of the trailers we’re presently using for classrooms.”
“I wonder if we’ll get it.”
He shrugged. “Anybody’s guess. Every time they talk about adding to the millage rate, there’s a groundswell of protest from property owners who don’t have children.”
“I remember.”
He found them two seats at the very end of the teachers’ table and they sat down to the meal. She