Authors: Janet Dailey
“I suppose,” Doré conceded as her attention was claimed by the sight of a vendor’s stall. “Good. That man is selling soft drinks.”
After they had all bought their cold drinks, they searched until they found a shady spot to sip them away from the crowds. Shari lifted her gaze to the mountain that silently watched over the celebration.
Grandfather Mountain, so named by the Indians because the broken outline of the mountain peak looked like the profile of an old man gazing skyward. It had become one of the more popular recreation sites in the State with its swinging footbridge providing a view of nearly one hundred miles, its cave of inlaid stone, and a natural rock likeness of the Sphinx.
So many of her summers had been spent in the shadow of this mountain that seeing it again was like seeing an old friend. She remembered the times when she and Rory had hurried to keep up with Whit while they hiked the mountain’s trails.
Rory had always been so impatient whenever she stopped to gaze at the rhododendron growing in wild profusion on the slopes, but not Whit. Whit was the one who pointed out the rowan tree and the sand myrtle.
A smile flitted across her lips as she recalled the time she and Rory had taken off on their own. A mist had swept in through the mountain gaps and covered the top of Grandfather Mountain. She and Rory had gotten lost in it, but Whit had found them. It was the first and only time that she could recall ever seeing Whit angry and he had been furious with them.
“Why the smile?” Beth inquired with a curious look.
Shari lifted a shoulder in a dismissing shrug. “I was just recalling some of my childhood ‘misadventures.’” She didn’t bore them with the details.
“Do you live very far from here?” Doré stirred the ice in her drink with a straw. “I know you said
the condominium where we’re staying is just a summer place.”
“Gold Leaf is over an hour’s drive from here, out of the mountains,” she replied, still thoughtful and vaguely reminiscing. “The Lancasters used to own one of those old summer houses in the village when I was a child. It’s cooler here in the mountains and we’d spend the hot, summer weeks here instead of at the farm. The summer house was sold a few years ago. Then Whit bought the condominium.”
“What is Gold Leaf?” Beth wanted to know.
Doré supplied the answer before Shari could. “That’s the name of the family tobacco plantation,” she said, revealing her interest in anything that implied money.
“The Lancaster family made its money in tobacco. That’s why they named the farm Gold Leaf,” Shari explained. “In recent years, it has diversified, raising other crops but tobacco is still one of the principal ones.”
“Does your family live there?” Beth questioned. “You said it belonged to the Lancaster family.”
“It does. My mother lives there and my younger brother, Rory, as well as Whit who runs Gold Leaf now since Grandfather Lancaster isn’t able to get around any more,” Shari replied and finished her cold drink.
“Then your mother was a Lancaster?” Beth attempted to figure out Shari’s relationship to the Lancasters.
“No. The explanation is a little involved,” she smiled. “My father was Robert Sutherland. He was
killed in a car wreck when I was only a couple of months old. I was a year old when my mother met and married John Lancaster who was a widower with a twelve-year-old son. My younger brother, Rory, is actually my half brother. And Whit is my step-brother. There isn’t any true blood relationship between myself and Granddad Lancaster.” Shari glanced at Beth. The brown-haired girl was frowning intently. “I’ve confused you, haven’t I?” she laughed.
“I don’t think so.” Beth shook her head, but she didn’t appear too certain. “What about your step-father John Lancaster?”
“He died when I was fourteen from pneumonia complications. At the time, Whit was already being groomed to take his place in the family business. He stepped in to fill the void after my stepfather died and managed the farm under the direction of Granddad Lancaster. Granddad put him in full charge of the operation three years ago and ostensibly retired.” While he didn’t run the business anymore, Shari knew full well that Granddad Lancaster still ran the family.
“How old is your grandfather?” There was a wistful note in Beth’s voice. Knowing how close she was to her own family, Shari guessed her friend was feeling a twinge of homesickness.
The question made her pause to add up the years. The resulting answer made her realize that she had forgotten her step-grandfather was that old.
“He’s seventy-eight, but he looks like he’s in his sixties. He’s still very much the patriarch of the family.” A fact she knew all too well.
“Since we’re so close, you are planning to visit them, aren’t you?” Beth frowned, because Shari hadn’t mentioned anything about it.
Smiling lightly, Shari tried to shrug away the twinge of guilty conscience. “When we planned this vacation, I thought it was supposed to be a complete break from everything for us. Besides, it would hardly be fair for me to visit my family when neither of you can see yours since they are so far away.”
“I don’t mind,” Beth assured her.
“I think it would be fascinating to see your family home,” Doré inserted. Until that moment, Shari had believed her blonde-haired friend would be an ally.
With pressure being applied from both sides, Shari attempted to delicately explain her situation at home. “I don’t think either of you understand what you’re saying. Twenty minutes after we arrive at Gold Leaf, you’ll probably find yourselves referees in a shouting match.”
“Why?” A frown of puzzled concern took over Beth’s expression.
“To put it mildly, I don’t get along very well with my grandfather.” There was a rueful twist of her mouth since her reply was something of an understatement. “We can’t carry on a conversation for five minutes without an argument starting. Granddad Lancaster has some antiquated notions about a woman’s role in life and he disapproves of just about everything I do.”
“I suppose he’s one of those old-fashioned Southern men who believes that women are the weaker sex and need to be looked after and protected.”
Doré read between the lines of Shari’s answer and made a mocking conclusion. “No doubt, he has the attitude that educating a woman is a waste of time.”
“He is sufficiently liberated to concede that education is a good thing, but he doesn’t like my choice of university or my major.” Her sense of fair play wouldn’t permit her to go along with such a sweeping condemnation of her step-grandfather’s attitude.
“What’s wrong with Duke University?” Beth’s expression was ringed with disbelief, her college pride aroused. “Heavens, it’s one of the top colleges in the country.”
“But there are several others in the State that are equal academically,” Shari reasoned, a hint of a smile curving her lips. “As far as Granddad is concerned, Duke has several drawbacks. Number one, I can’t live at home while I’m attending college.” Her green eyes widened in mock horror. “And Heaven only knows what could happen to a young girl living on campus—away from the nest and without the sheltering wing of the family to protect her from lecherous college boys always ready to take advantage of her.”
“Do you mean it isn’t like that?” Doré feigned surprise and they all laughed.
A trace of amusement remained in Shari’s voice when she continued, “Naturally he feels I should study something in the Arts or Domestic Sciences. He can’t see any value in chemistry. His biggest complaint against Duke is too many ‘outsiders’ are enrolled there.”
“Outsiders?” Beth frowned. “What does he mean by that?”
“Students from outside the State of North Carolina,” Shari explained. “Granddad is convinced I’ll end up marrying one of them and move away. He insists I’ll never be happy if I leave.” Although she didn’t admit it, she thought he could be right about that. She did love this wild and proud land.
“How did you ever manage to persuade him to let you enroll at Duke when he feels so intensely about it?” Doré questioned.
“I didn’t persuade him.” She shook her head.
“I suppose your mother did,” Beth guessed.
“No.” Shari laughed at the suggestion that her mother would oppose an edict of Frederick Lancaster. “As far as my mother is concerned, his word is law. Besides, nothing would make her happier than keeping me and Rory at her side forever. She doesn’t believe in untying the apron strings.”
“Then how did you manage to come to Duke?” Doré eyed her narrowly, trying to understand.
“I guess you could say that I literally ran away from home,” she shrugged to make light of the difficult decision. “One afternoon when no one was home, I packed all my things and left a note, telling them where I was going. Luckily I didn’t have to rely on them for financial support. When I turned eighteen, I was able to have control of the small inheritance my father, Robert Sutherland, left me. Between it and my scholarship grant, I’m able to pay for my own education.”
“Your grandfather must have been upset when he read your note.” Beth’s sympathies seemed to be with Shari’s grandfather.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Shari grimaced. “He
was furious. He came after me, determined to take me back home. We practically had a knock-down, drag-out fight right there on campus. But I was legally of age so there really wasn’t anything he could do. He couldn’t force me to go home. Then he filled my mother’s head with so much nonsense that she came to get me, all upset and worried. It was harder trying to deal with her tears than with Granddad’s rage.”
“What happened?” Beth asked, then immediately explained her question. “I mean, I know you’re attending Duke University so they didn’t make you leave, but did your grandfather finally become reconciled to your choice?”
“Not hardly,” she sighed grimly. “After I’d been attending classes for about a month, I went home for a long weekend to try to smooth things out. It was a three-day, continuous argument. When I left, I swore I would never come back.” She laughed, remembering her impassioned declaration.
“Oh, Shari, you didn’t!” Beth breathed in alarm.
“I did,” she nodded and smiled. “Of course, that didn’t last. At the start of the Thanksgiving break, Whit arrived, packed my suitcases, and dragged me home.”
“Whit is your stepbrother?” Doré arched an eyebrow in Shari’s direction to be certain she was correct in her assumption.
“Yes.” Shari paused thoughtfully. “At times, Whit can be just as ruthless as his grandfather, with one major difference. Whit doesn’t argue.”
“Does he approve of what you’re doing?” Doré asked.
“No, he doesn’t think I needed to leave home to attend college, but he does agree that it was
my
decision to make, not anyone else’s,” she replied.
“You really think a lot of your stepbrother, don’t you?” Beth observed and turned to Doré, not giving Shari a chance to respond immediately. “Have you noticed the way her face lights up when she talks about him?”
“Whit is one of a kind,” Shari stated as if that explained it all.
“What makes him so special?” Doré challenged.
Shari had never had to describe him to anyone before. She suddenly didn’t know where to start. “He’s tall and good-looking in an austere kind of way. His hair is dark brown, but he spends so much time in the sun that it has streaks of dark gold. And his eyes are an unusual amber-brown color. When he’s angry, they look real dark and hard. Then other times, they sparkle with gold. He’s intelligent and has a marvelous sense of humor.”
“He sounds fascinating,” Doré murmured with more than a little feminine interest.
But Shari didn’t catch that note of aroused female curiosity for a member of the opposite sex. She was too caught up in her attempt to give her friends a clear picture of her stepbrother, something she’d never had to put into words before.
“I know you two would like him,” she insisted confidently. “At times, he can be positively infuriating but generally he’s always willing to listen to what you have to say, no matter how trivial. His shoulder is always available to cry on. And it always seems like he’s there when you need him most.” She
paused for a minute as it occurred to her the best way to sum up her description. “Whit is every girl’s ideal image of what a big brother should be like.”
“I don’t know about you, Beth,” Doré arched a glance at the brown-haired girl,” but I was under the impression she was describing the ideal
lover
instead of a brother.”
Stunned by the suggestion, Shari laughed shortly. “Don’t be silly.”
Just for an instant, her imagination took over and she had a clear, mental picture of Whit taking her into his arms in a loverlike embrace. She shied away from the sudden and unexpected race of her pulse, blocking out the image.
“I’m not being silly,” Doré insisted. “It’s a pity you couldn’t hear yourself when you were describing him—or see the look on your face. You appeared much more interested in him as a man than as your brother. From all you said, I don’t blame you a bit. I’d love to meet him.”
There was something avidly feline about Doré’s look that reminded Shari of a cat ready to stalk its prey. She found herself bristling at the thought of her friend sinking her claws into Whit. Even more startling, she felt an almost territorial claim on him and the hostile sensation that her friend was trespassing on private property.
It was unsettling to learn she could feel jealousy over him. Disrupted by that, Shari was hesitant to examine the emotional ties that had always bound her so close to him.
“Is he married?” Doré inquired.
“No.” It occurred to her that she had always
found something to dislike about every girl Whit had dated through the years.
Even now it seemed inconceivable that he might marry, yet it was perfectly logical to assume that he would. Whit was a very virile man. It was only natural for him to want a woman with whom he could share his life. Until that moment, Shari had never thought about Whit in terms of what his sexual and emotional needs might be. In so many ways, she had taken him for granted.
“We are going to have to meet this stepbrother of yours, aren’t we, Beth?” Doré enlisted her friend’s support.