Anything For Love Read online

  Joining his family had required a big adjustment for her. She had gone from being single to being a wife and mother, from living in a frame house to residing in a large mansion, from an existence as the daughter of struggling farmers to a life of wealth and high status. She had gone from attending college activities and small-town diversions to being involved with bridge clubs, charities, committees, volunteer work, evenings at the country club and symphony and opera, and more. It had been hard learning to fit into a strange world of blue bloods with old money and social prominence, but most of them, she admitted, were good people. She was glad not many of them were like her inlaws with noses in the air.

  The Gaineses—who had earned as much money as they inherited—owned rental properties that included houses and apartments and shopping strips, a local savings and loan business, a national candy company, a huge car dealership, a large real estate firm, hundreds of acres of raw land, and major parts of other local companies. Rachel knew how upset they were about giving Daniel shares in several of their companies, shares she had inherited and had refused to give or to sell back to them for a cheap price; that action was based on the advice of her lawyer and banker, done in confidence so Cliff and Newton could avoid conflicts with the Gaineses who were clients elsewhere. It had taken strength and courage and much prayer to hold on to what she believed rightfully belonged to Daniel’s children and grandchildren. To prevent a scandal, the Gaineses had pretended in public to accept her decision, though they made their displeasure obvious to her in private.

  Rachel recalled how, shortly after Daniel’s death, she had tried to get involved with the businesses, go to board meetings, and take over Daniel’s place; the Gaineses had stopped her cold, said it wasn’t “a woman’s place,” and practically ordered her to stay home and take care of the children. Daniel’s two sisters and his brother-inlaws had not dared come to her defense and risk being disinherited. Rachel knew what it boiled down to was that they couldn’t seem to endure the thought that she had her hands on Gaines money and holdings. No doubt, she mused, the situation would be different if she had a son to take his place, one in Daniel’s image, one they could control.

  Rachel recalled how shocked and displeased the Gaineses had been to discover their only son had wed a “nobody,” an almost poor country girl without an acceptable lineage. She was never one of “them,” and was always considered from “the other side of the tracks.” At family gatherings, the Gaineses had made her feel like an outsider, feel unworthy and beneath them. Even while Daniel was alive, she and her girls had been viewed and treated differently from the Gaines’s daughters, Cynthia and Suzannah, son-inlaws, and the children of those couples. The tragic part was that Karen and Evelyn noticed the slights and they prevented any real closeness with their paternal grandparents, so unlike the loving relationships the girls had had with her parents before their deaths. Since the move to Charleston two years ago, the Gaines rarely even phoned and never invited them to visit.

  On the last two Christmases, following no contact at Thanksgiving, they only asked them to Charleston for a few hours or the day, but never to sleep over. As for gifts, they seemed to be given with reluctance and with little care about their choices and without affection. It appeared to Rachel as if Daniel’s death gave his parents the opportunity to shove Rachel and the girls out of their lives. Perhaps it was because Karen and Evelyn favored her and her family, not Daniel or his side.

  Maybe, Rachel admitted, she was partly to blame for the gulf between them. She had gotten pregnant by mistake, and while unwed which was a terrible thing in the old days. In 1966, horror tales of botched or lethal abortions in dark back rooms and under humiliating and unsanitary conditions were enough in most cases to persuade girls to remain virgins. She had allowed Daniel to convince her that sex was all right between people who loved each other and planned to get married one day. It amazed her to realize how little she had known about sex and passion when she was eighteen. Of course, at that age, girls thought they knew everything about it. She had weakened one night and gotten trapped, a mistake she was certain the Gaineses had guessed. She had married Daniel before meeting Dorothy and Richard, she had breached their rules of etiquette and breeding, and she had married above her class, dared to snare their son. But she was not to blame for losing an infant son to SIDS, a male fetus to a miscarriage, and a young husband to a tragic plane crash during a storm, though her inlaws tried to make her feel guilty about all those tragic incidents.

  She tried not to let the Gaineses’ resentment trouble her, but it did; not so much for herself, but for the sake of her children.

  Rachel closed the last album and put them away. She went to the kitchen to boil water for raspberry tea, in need of its soothing effect.

  * * *

  At seven, after the weather cleared and she was keying up the computer to edit the last chapter she had written to get into the mental creation mode for the next one, the phone rang.

  “Rachel, this is Quentin Rawls. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  Her gaze widened, her hand shook, and she almost dropped the receiver at the sound of his voice. “Not really. I was just working on one of my projects.”

  From your tone of voice, I caught you by surprise a second time. “I wanted to tell you how good it was to see you again, and to say what a wonderful time I had at the reunion. Everybody was nice and I had fun.”

  “For the most part, they’re a great group of people and the committee did a superb job. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself and I hope Carrie did, too. I’m sure having you at her side made a difficult evening easier for her.”

  “Thanks. I have to say, everybody was polite and pleasant to her. She said she had a nice time, and it seemed a good idea for her to confront her past to get certain things behind her. That’s what friends are for, to help us survive bad times and to share good ones. Right?”

  “I know I couldn’t do without mine. Has she gone home?”

  “Yes, she changed her reservations to Saturday afternoon and flew out about three o’clock. She achieved her goal but didn’t want to push herself—and others—by going to the picnic yesterday, not without her kids.”

  “She has children?”

  “Several, from a marriage that didn’t last. She’s been seeing a man for quite a while who Donnie and I know and he’s asked her to marry him. She thought she’d have a better chance of marital success this time if she got rid of some demons from here. Donnie asked me to be her escort,” after I told him I was coming to Augusta to visit, “so I agreed. She didn’t want her boyfriend Fred coming with her in case things went badly with her old friends. She must have been satisfied because she left smiling. She’s probably said yes by now.”

  “That’s wonderful, Quentin. Congratulate her for me.”

  Now that you know we weren’t lovers, let’s get on to step one of my two plans. “I was also calling to ask you a favor. I hope you don’t mind. If so, I’ll understand and won’t press you.”

  Rachel went to full alert. “A favor? What is it?”

  “Would you be interested in exchanging lunch at the restaurant of your choice for acting as my tour guide around town until I get my bearings? I know you’re a busy lady and this is short notice, but if you’ll agree, I promise I won’t take up more than a few hours of your schedule.”

  Rachel wondered if this was a sly way to ask for a date or if he was letting her know it was to be a noncommittal arrangement between old friends, or like a business luncheon. Should she set things straight in advance? No, she decided, wait and see how things go between us because he won’t be around very long and probably doesn’t have anything romantic in mind. “That sounds all right to me. I’ll be glad to help out. When?”

  “How about starting in the morning at nine and going through lunch?”

  As Rachel’s body warmed and her flesh tingled, she fretted, Are you getting hooked this easily and quickly by him again? “That suits me. Do you want me to pick you up, or you p
ick me up, or meet somewhere?”

  “I have a rental car, so why don’t I pick you up at nine? I doubt I’ll get lost because I’m staying at the Bradberry Suites on Claussen Road. The guard at the country club gate can give me directions to your house.”

  He was staying only a few miles and minutes away from her home and knew where she…“How do you know where I live?”

  “I looked it up in Carrie’s reunion booklet; it had the names and addresses and pertinent facts about her classmates. Daniel’s name was included, along with a note about his death.”

  So, he had planned to see her before Carrie left yesterday. What had he done on Saturday and today? Surely not sit around in his suite and twiddle his thumbs; at least not on Saturday, which had been a lovely day. So, why did he need a tour guide, her in particular? Because, silly, you’re the only person in town he knows. “I’ll tell the guard at the gate I’m expecting you and to point you in my direction. Since you’re so close, you should be able to find me easily.”

  More easily than when I tried to locate you years ago after you sneaked off the ship. Quentin thought. Maybe I could have avoided a lot of problems if you hadn’t dumped me like that. No matter, it’s only second down and ten yards to go and there’s still ample playing time left on the clock. I won’t worry until it’s fourth-and-one, my lovely and skittish Rachel Tims Gaines. Just help me work out my business proposal here, then maybe we’ll get personal. All I need is a few days’ study before I reveal it to anyone, including you.

  “Are you there, Quentin?”

  “Sorry, Rachel. I’ll let you get back to work on your project so you can have tomorrow morning free. Good-bye and thanks. I’ll see you at nine sharp.”

  “I’ll be ready, Quentin. Good-bye.” Whatever were you thinking about moments ago? Mercy, Rachel, you’re crazy to get tangled up with him again. Nothing can come of this except a broken heart and perhaps a scandal. But Lordy, she would love to have things be like they were between them years ago! They had seemed so compatible, but a lot of water had flowed under their bridges. Quentin Rawls might like you and enjoy you in and out of bed, but he’d never ask you to marry him. Marry? Why on earth would you think along that wild line? Besides all the differences between us, he’s twice burned and surely wary. He only wants a tour guide and maybe a little recreation. Can you have a good time with him and for only a short time without risking injury? She gave that query serious consideration and sighed deeply. How can you possibly spend time with him and not fall for his charms, maybe fall harder this go-around? You only spent two weeks with him twelve years ago and he’s still in your system. How will you get him out after he leaves, which he will. How will any man suit you after being twice tempted and twice surrendering to him? Mercy woman, you’re going to get hurt if you fall into this golden trap.

  Get real, Rachel Gaines! He only wants some friendly assistance. Surely you can control yourself for a few hours. You can enjoy his company without falling into bed with him, unless you want to. If you do, that’s nobody’s business except your own, as long as you’re discreet. Well, old girl, you wanted adventure, challenges, excitement, and here’s your chance to grab them. Just keep alert and be careful.

  Rachel clicked open a file in her computer, the one with records about Augusta, the one she and her old hospitality committee used to help introduce newcomers to town. She printed out the pages she needed, then made notes on them. She took tourist brochures from the Chamber of Commerce and visitor’s center from a file in the desk drawer and added them to the pile. She did the same with city and county maps, after plotting out their route for tomorrow using a highlighter. Of course, they couldn’t cover all those in a few hours, but maybe that would entice him to ask for another tour. She slipped the items into a large yellow envelope, then shut down her computer, as writing was impossible tonight in her distracted state. She went upstairs to select an outfit for the stimulating adventure, warning herself not to get her hopes too high or have unrealistic dreams about a new relationship. Quentin Rawls for a second husband? she mused. That could never come to pass, she decided.

  Monday at nine, Quentin arrived at Rachel’s house. He eyed her with an appreciative gaze and smiled. “You look lovely this morning. Ready to begin our little journey?”

  “Thanks, just let me lock up and set the alarm.” As they walked to the car, she decided he liked her choice of outfit: a fashionable yet comfortable Dana Buchman silk crepe tunic and pants. The top, which featured a row of small and shiny black buttons down the center, was in red and black paisley designs and halted just below her firm buttocks; the flowing red pants accentuated her slim legs. For easy walking, she wore Chanel black flats; and she carried a matching camera-style purse with a gold-tone chain shoulder strap. Her jewelry consisted of gold earrings, a herringbone bracelet, watch, and two rings. One was a two-carat emerald solitaire, a gift from Daniel on their tenth anniversary, and the other a cluster of diamonds around a two-carat center stone. She had given her wedding rings to Evelyn when she married—with Karen’s approval as the eldest daughter—a set once belonging to Daniel’s grandmother. Of course, Dorothy Gaines would give her eyeteeth to have those rings back, and had given them to her in the first place only because Daniel insisted as was the custom.

  After Quentin retrieved his sunglasses from the dash and slipped them on, he backed from her driveway while glancing over his left shoulder. As she donned her glasses, she noticed he was dressed in dark-blue slacks, black shoes, and a golf shirt in red, navy, and white stripes. He looked handsome, well groomed, and relaxed. No, she corrected, he was downright disarming. She told him in which direction to drive then said, “I’ll point out the sites, then you can decide if there are places you want to visit later at your leisure. I have maps and brochures in this packet for you to use if you want more information.”

  Quentin glanced at her for a moment, but he could tell despite her sunglasses that her green gaze was focused on the road. She appeared poised, but he detected controlled anxiety beneath her calm facade. She looked beautiful and was still utterly fascinating and charming. She had appealing poise and a sunny personality, especially when she relaxed, which he hoped she did soon. He liked the way she was wearing her sleek brown hair; the causal yet sophisticated style suited her to perfection. She had a lovely oval-shaped face and delicate yet sensual features: full lips, slim nose, large green eyes, high cheekbones. Her complexion was a natural light olive shade; her skin, well toned and firm. There was a rosy hint on her cheeks, either from blush or nervousness or both, and her size eight to ten figure was stunning. Most females, he concluded, would give anything to age as well as Rachel. He hadn’t gotten over the way she had dumped him years ago, since they had been so close and she hadn’t seemed to be an insensitive person. He forced his eyes from her face and said, “I really appreciate you taking the time to do this favor for me. I thought it would be more fun to have you along today. I’m glad you agreed to come.”

  Rachel knew he had been studying her from the corners of his eyes. His blue gaze was potent and arousing, so he wasn’t making self-control easy for her. “Thanks, and I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. I was on a hospitality committee for one of my clubs last year and showed newcomers around, so you didn’t hire a novice for your guide,” she said with a laugh to dispel her tension.

  He chuckled and glanced her way again. “That’s fortunate for me.”

  Rachel motioned to their right. “That’s the famous Augusta National Golf Course where the Master’s Golf Tournament is held. The grounds are beautiful and well kept. Maybe you can pull some strings and get to play it, but the course is closed even to members from mid-May to mid-October.”

  Quentin didn’t tell her that he already had an invitation from a club member to return and play later. His time here was limited because of preseason practice and games soon, so he had to learn as much as possible about this area and fast. Until he made his furtive study and decision, she had to be kept in the dark about his motiv
es for being there, as did everyone else. And, there was the personal matter between them to be resolved…

  A few minutes later, Rachel said, “To our left is Lake Olmstead and Julian Smith Casino and park where we had the class reunion. At this intersection, Washington Road becomes Broad Street, the main street downtown.” As they continued along, she pointed out other sites and told him a little about them. First came Harris House. “It was built in the late seventeen hundreds by a tobacco merchant who founded this area. Plans are underway to make it part of a block-long park to serve as a tourist center and a way station for people using the Augusta Canal nearby. I worked on the historical society committee to help renovate and preserve the site.” Next was the old Confederate Powder Works which—along with army uniform and supply mills—played an important role in the Civil War. “Augusta was spared devastation because Sherman decided to march from Atlanta to Savannah instead of coming here,” she explained. “Besides, he had already destroyed the rail lines.” She related facts about the 1840’s canal system which wound through certain areas of town, and still provided power for two mills. She guided him to the riverfront and suggested he park so she could point out interesting places there.

  They strolled along a lovely section of Riverwalk as she explained about past floods that had spilled damaging water into the town until the tall levy and strong gates were built long ago. She nodded toward the blue expanse ahead. “That’s the Savannah River; it separates Georgia from South Carolina. It was used heavily in past times for transporting tobacco, cotton, mill goods, and other products. Cotton Row and the Exchange are down the street from here. The new marina is down farther, between Fifth and Sixth streets. Near it, there’s a church located on the site of old Fort Cornwallis and Fort Augusta. This area is called Port Royal; it has some expensive and luxurious condos, and the Discovery Center for the National Science Center is set to open in that building next year. It should be a big drawing factor for tourists.”