Home To Eden. Margaret Way
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searching her face.
“I missed you, too, Joel. I missed everyone. I miss my home.”
“I hope you mean that.” Joel’s gaze turned still and serious before he brightened. “They’re all waiting for you. Including your dad at death’s door. Eden is like the dark side of the moon without you, Nikki.”
His words sounded so extravagant that for a moment she didn’t know what to say. “I needed space, Joel. Time. I never want to hurt anyone with my continuing absence.”
“It’s taken having your father back to bring you home again. Never mind. I don’t care what the reason is, just the fact you’re here. You look marvelous. More beautiful every time I see you.”
“Molecules, Joel,” she told him lightly. “The way they’re arranged. You look great, too.” Gently so as not to offend him, she withdrew from his embrace. For the first time ever she felt self-conscious with her cousin and she blamed Drake.
Joel’s eyes moved briefly to Drake, who had never been his friend, preferring Nicole every time. “How you two managed to run into each other I’ll never know.” He eyed Drake closely as though he suspected it was no accident at all.
“The element of chance,” Drake drawled. “Now that Nicole is safely delivered, I’ll be on my way.”
“Why rush off? Long time no see.” Joel’s tone was bright, but Nicole clearly saw the venom. Like his father, Joel had a giant chip on his shoulder.
“Things to do. Always things to do,” Drake declined in an easy, casual voice.
“If what I hear is true, you’re negotiating to buy out Vince Morrow.”
Drake shrugged. “First rule of business, Joel. Don’t give out advance information.”
“You never change, do you.” A definite sneer. “Always the big man. The big action hero. Or that’s how everyone seems to view you. Not me.”
“That seems certain,” Drake responded. “I think I’ll go before this gets nasty.”
“Only fooling. Just testing,” Joel said, and suddenly grinned. “Fact is, Drake, I’ve always admired you. You always were someone. Even as a kid. A kid destined to go places, according to my dear grandpa. ’Course, you had a head start, being your dad’s heir.”
“I think I’ll skip the compliments, too,” Drake said, secure in his ability to handle difficult customers like Joel Holt. He turned his head to Nicole, who was looking on in dismay, no doubt waiting for the right moment to intervene.
“Thank you so much for the flight, Drake,” she said quickly. “You saved me a heap of trouble.”
“My pleasure.” He looked at her steadily, making up his mind. “I’ve done a lot of changes on Kooltar. Maybe you’d like to see it sometime?”
“My God, is that an invitation?” Joel cut in, his tone high and derisory.
“The invitation is extended only to Nicole.” Something flickered in Drake’s eyes, signaling he wasn’t going to take much more.
“And I accept it.” Nicole threw Joel a quelling look, which he promptly mimicked.
“Don’t tell me you two have made up,” Joel said incredulously.
“We’re simply being civilized,” Drake said. “We’re neighbors. Our families were once close. Nothing can be accomplished when people are divided. I’ll give you time to settle in, Nicole, before I ring you to set a time.”
“Thanks again, Drake.” Given Joel’s aggressive attitude, she was on tenterhooks waiting for Drake to go.
“Be seeing you.” He sketched a brief salute, then strode to the Beech Baron. He didn’t so much as glance back.
“God, would you look at him!” Joel muttered, tanned skin stretched taut across his cheekbones. “Arrogant son of a bitch. Always did have that contemptuous air. Magnet for the women, though. A real stud. He’s as good as engaged to Karen Stirling.”
“Really? He never said.” Nicole felt a betraying hot flush.
“What does it matter to you?” Joel asked, eyeing her closely. “For years now the two of you can’t even look at each other without a fight starting. You launched right into an argument the last time you were here.”
“You really saw it like that?”
“Are you telling me it wasn’t like that?” Joel’s gray-green eyes locked onto hers.
“I’m telling you I’m tired of the fighting. I’m tired of the hostility. As Drake said, our two families were close once. We still share a common bond. We love the land. I’m hoping with a little goodwill on both sides we can narrow the chasm that’s divided us.”
Joel guffawed. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this! Are you hiding something from me, Nikki?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s high time we buried the hatchet. Granddad’s gone. So’s Drake’s father. The result of a single tragedy. It’s so damn sad.”
With a callused hand, Joel grasped her face and turned it to him. “You’d be the biggest fool in the world to trust Drake McClelland,” he warned. “He’s a devious bastard. He wants Eden.”
“Well, he can’t have it.” Nicole considered her cousin squarely. “Let go of my face, Joel. You’re getting much too aggressive. I want to go up to the house. I’m like they say in the song, I’m tired and I want to go home. I’ve done an awful lot of traveling. I’m not a good traveler.”
“Sure, Nikki. I’m sorry. But I’ve been through a bad time, too.”
“How exactly?” Nicole asked him quietly.
“I miss you so much when you go away. This coming and going is torture.”
She exhaled. “That sounds so…oppressive. You don’t depend on me for your happiness, Joel. If you do, there’s something wrong.”
He lifted his palms, dropped them again. “Is it wrong to miss you when you go away? God, Nikki, we grew up together. Under the same roof. Doesn’t my missing you make sense?”
Unsure of herself, Nicole expressed regret. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
“But you’re home now.” Joel smiled, leaning forward to impulsively kiss her on the forehead. “I’m just so grateful.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE COULD SMELL the scents of her country. Feel its intense dry heat, bask in the radiant light so different from the light of the northern hemisphere.
Eden homestead faced her across a great down-sweep of lawn, the broad stream of the Minareechi at its feet, meandering away to either side. Black swans sailed across its dark green glassy surface as they always had. There was a small island in the middle of the river, ringed by great clumps of white arum lilies, heavily funereal. A life-size white marble statue of a goddess stood on a marble plinth at its center, the base almost obscured by a purple mass of water iris. It should have been a romantic spot. In better days it had been. Her mother had loved it. Now the place bore a faintly haunted air.
Joel pulled up at the base of the semicircular flight of stone steps that led to the front entrance of the homestead. Eden was a departure from other historic homesteads. A large country house in the grand style, it showed more than a little of French influence with its great mansard roof and round viewing tower in the west wing. The first chatelaine of Eden, Adrienne, had been French. No expense had been spared to please her, uprooted as she was from a land of immense beauty and culture to a vast, arid, primitive wilderness, scarcely explored. Nevertheless, Adrienne had not only survived but flourished, bearing six living children. The French connection persisted. One of her great-aunts had married a distant French cousin and still lived in a beautiful