The succeeding weeks were busy ones for the Quest clan. Everyone returned to their respective homes and jobs, promising to return at Thanksgiving; Benton became deeply immersed in research and then spent a week in Berlin where he was the keynote speaker at a conference on supercomputing; and Estella buried herself in the analysis of the artifacts she had obtained from the University of Illinois. Only Race had the opportunity to be out in the community on a regular basis.
During idle conversation over breakfast on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Estella decided to catch up on events outside of the Compound. "Have you seen Barbara Mason recently? I haven't talked to her in a couple of weeks."
"She's around," Race replied. "I haven't seen her, but I've heard her name mentioned quite a bit."
Estella frowned. "What do you mean?"
"She's the leading topic of town gossip these days," he admitted, somewhat reluctantly.
"Why?" his wife replied, setting her fork down abruptly and staring at him. "What's going on? What are they saying?"
"Renquist's still around . . . a lot. He must have shifted his practice around or something because he shows up almost every Thursday evening and doesn't leave until first thing on Monday morning."
"He's staying with her?" Estella demanded.
Race shook his head. "No. He's rented a house not far from her. You know the one . . . the big, beige Victorian near the top of the hill that looks down over the harbor."
"I know it," she agreed. "So he's still pursuing her. What kind of success is he having?"
"Now, there is where things get a bit more confused. They're seen out in public a lot. He escorts her to functions and takes her out to dinner regularly. He's still acting very possessive, but she's not showing any overt signs of reciprocating."
"You mean she's still acting like they're more friends than anything else."
"Exactly. But, naturally, gossip is running wild. I've heard everything from 'they're planning to get married at Christmas' to 'they're moving to Maryland after the first of the year' to 'she's trying to get rid of him and he won't leave her alone'. I think what it comes down to is that no one knows for sure what's going on." Race grimaced. "People are constantly asking me about it. And everyone wants to know where Benton is. The more brazen ones have even demanded to know what he's planning on doing about Renquist 'moving in on his territory'."
Estella made sympathetic noises. She imagined that if she were out and about, she'd be getting much the same treatment.
"I'll tell you one thing for certain, though," he continued. "The townspeople don't like Renquist. Not even a little bit. You know these people, Stel. They're not generally fond of strangers, but when one of their own brings someone in from the outside they're willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. I'm not hearing anything positive from anyone about the man. He is just uniformly detested. If he does end up moving here, he's going to have a hell of a time setting up a practice."
Estella thought about that for a while. "You know," she said slowly, "maybe that's the point."
"You think maybe he's setting himself up to be disliked?" Race asked, looking troubled.
"Yes, it might be," she agreed. "Maybe he's never had any intention of moving here. Maybe the whole idea was to make Barbara think he would, then marry her and when he can't get a practice established, insist that she move back to Maryland with him."
"She'll never be happy there."
"I know. I really hope I'm wrong about this." Pushing away from the breakfast table, she rose. "I think I'll call her and see if we can 'do' lunch."
Barbara was late. Estella had been waiting for over 20 minutes at a back table at Cappy's in Camden before the other woman arrived and joined her. She looks stressed, Estella thought.
"Sorry," Barbara said breathlessly. "It's just been one of those days."
Estella laughed lightly. "Don't worry about it. I figured you'd get here eventually, so I just snagged a table." They both ordered and then Estella said, "So I've been lost in work and seriously out of the loop. Tell me what I've missed." The two spent the next several minutes catching up on the activities of mutual acquaintances. Finally, Estella asked, "How about you and Mark Renquist?"
Barbara shot her a veiled look across the table. "Is this what lunch is about?" she demanded defensively.
Estella looked up, surprised at her tone. After a moment, she replied, "Partially. I know I've been busy, but you also haven't called and I was wondering how things were going with him."
"Why? So you can keep Benton up-to-date?" Her tone was bitter.
Alarmed, Estella set her soup spoon down and reached across the table to lay a hand on the other woman's arm. "Barbara, you know I don't repeat what you tell me to Benton. What in heaven's name is wrong?"
Barbara took several deep breaths and then shook her head, still staring at the table. "I'm sorry, Estella. That was unfair. I didn't mean it." There was a catch in her voice and Estella wondered if she was trying not to cry.
"I know. Just tell me what's going on."
Barbara hesitated, glancing around the room quickly. Then, as if making a decision, she lowered her voice and asked, "Are you busy this afternoon?"
"Not if you need to talk. I can make all the time you need."
"All right. Let's finish lunch and then we'll go somewhere else. I'm the topic of enough gossip these days. I don't want snatches of overhead conversation to make me more of one."
"Sounds good." Estella nodded and started to eat again. "Oh, did I tell you that the kids start arriving back home for the holidays tonight?"
"No."
"Jon and Jess get in tonight and Hadji, Kefira, and the kids should be here by early afternoon tomorrow."
"How are Jon and Jessica? Have they set a wedding date yet?"
Estella laughed. "No, and it's driving Benton crazy. They don't seem to be in any hurry at all and haven't even mentioned a possible date. To be honest with you, I think they're putting it off just to goad him a little bit."
Barbara frowned. "You think they're still trying to get even for the M.I.T. business?"
"Heavens no, that was laid to rest long ago. No, I think it's more a case of them being perfectly happy just the way things are. And let's face it, Benton doesn't have much leverage to use against them any longer."
"He never would," Barbara said, a bit defensively. "He learned his lesson the first time!"
"Yes, he did." Estella grinned at the other woman. "Don't worry about it, Barbara. It's nothing more than good-natured bickering. I think Benton realizes that Jon and Jess won't start thinking seriously about marriage until they decide they're ready to have kids, and once they make up their mind to do it, it will probably happen so fast it will make his head spin."
"What about Hadji and Kefira? Are they still in the same apartment?"
"Yes, although they're starting to talk about moving. Hadji's really pushing for it . . . he says their place is just way too small for the four of them, particularly with Maia as a full-blown teenager and Vasan not far behind.
Barbara raised an eyebrow. "Vasan?"
Estella grinned. "Yes. Now that he's ten, going on eleven, he's decided that Vassey is too childish, but he also doesn't like Srinivasan. So he's decided he wants to be called Vasan."
The laughter was light and Barbara seemed to relax a bit more. "So what does Kefira have to say about moving?"
"She's dragging her feet."
"Really? Why?"
Estella thought about that for a while. "I think largely it has to do with that apartment being the first place that was 'home' to her after her parents were killed and the family's home was destroyed. She hated the palace . . . too many bad memories . . . and once they finally came back from Bangalore for good, that place became a haven for her. I think she's having difficulty letting go."
"I can understand that. They never did cohabitate, even when they were first at school, did they?"
"No," Estella said, shaking her head. "Initially, there was the issue of Hadji's being Sultan and the restrictions put on the two of them if he was to take her as his wife. Then the situation in Bangalore blew up and they married quickly, so there was never really any chance for them to. I just don't think that's the way Hadji is made, anyway. It's funny how two people can be so much alike and yet so different. I suspect that Jon and Jess would have lived together for a while even if Benton hadn't ended up forcing the issue, but that just wasn't an option Hadji was comfortable with."
"Does it bother him that his brother does it?"
"It certainly doesn't seem to. I think Hadji just accepts it as natural for Jon and Jess."
"How does Kefira feel about it?"
"Who knows?" Estella replied with a laugh. "She doesn't say. That's a fascinating dynamic to watch, Barbara. On the surface, you get the impression that Kefira is totally in sync with Hadji's wishes and lets him take the lead. But that's not the case. That girl is as opinionated and stubborn as my daughter, in her own way. She just goes about it differently. When Jess gets her back up with Jon, her temper explodes and they both end up yelling. Kefira, on the other hand . . . well, the best analogy I can make, I guess, is that she turns into a block of her beloved granite. She becomes positively immovable. She doesn't yell or scream, but Hadji simply can't get around her. I wish I could figure out how she does it!"
Barbara laughed. "You'd like to try it on Race, right?"
"Don't think I wouldn't!" Dropping her napkin onto the table, she asked, "So are you all done?"
"Yes, I'm ready. You want to follow me back to my place? I have something I want to show you."
"Lead the way."
Estella followed Barbara all the way back to Rockport and into her house. After Barbara had hung up their coats, she said, "Why don't you make yourself at home. I'm going to go put on some coffee." Estella nodded as Barbara disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
While she waited, Estella began wandering around, gazing at the living room. Like many houses in this area, it was old . . . probably close to a hundred and fifty years . . . and under Barbara's care it had retained much of it's original character. It was two storied with a gabled roof and gingerbread trim all around, and it had a wide veranda-style porch on three sides. Inside, the rooms had lofty ceilings and each of the tall windows was topped with inset stained glass. Soft, lacey curtains framed the windows, and everywhere she looked she saw the warm glow of carefully tended hardwood. The rooms she could see were all furnished with good antiques that had obviously been selected with care, and the muted shades of blue and green carried from room to room effortlessly. There were a number of paintings hanging on the walls, all original watercolors done by local artists whose names she recognized. It occurred to Estella that this house was very much a reflection of its owner . . . quiet and elegant in appearance and reflecting the loving care that was so much a part of the woman herself.
"Here we are," Barbara said, returning with a tray that contained a china coffee carafe and two cups. She set it down on the coffee table and the two women settled onto the sofa facing each other.
"All right," Estella said firmly. "Tell me what's up."
"What have you heard?" Barbara countered.
"I haven't heard much at all. As I told you, I've been too out of touch. What I have heard has come via Race." She outlined what her husband had told her that morning, omitting her personal speculations on Mark Renquist's ulterior motives and Race's comments about the town's expectations from Benton.
Barbara sighed and nodded. "That sounds about right. Mark has been here a lot and he has rented the house at the top of the hill. When he's here, it seems like we're always doing something together. It's like he doesn't want me to have any free time at all."
"But why?" Estella asked.
Barbara was quiet for a long time. Finally, she looked up again and asked, "Truth?" Estella nodded. "I think he's afraid of Benton."
"I don't follow."
"He's jealous, Estella. He thinks that any free time I have, I spend with Benton, so Mark absolutely monopolizes me when he's here. I think he also figures that if he gets to me first and dominates my time, that I won't be able to see Benton as often."
Estella looked at her blankly. "Well, that's . . . You must . . ." she sputtered. Then she blurted out indignantly, "Well, isn't that just like a man!" The two women stared at each other for a minute and then erupted into laughter. Finally, Estella groped for a tissue to wipe her eyes and said, "I suppose we shouldn't laugh. It's not really funny, is it?"
"No, it's not," Barbara agreed with a sniff. "It's downright suffocating, actually."
"I can imagine."
"He's so bored here, Estella. I swear, we've done every tourist attraction and activity within a 20 minute drive of the area . . . some of them two or three times. He wants so much to go other places, but I just can't. When I'm on call I can't be that far away. And right now, I'm working ER so much that it's driving him crazy. I really think he's even starting to resent my patients."
"Well, you have to admit that life here is a lot different than what he's accustomed to," Estella commented, trying to be fair. "From what I've heard, big city medical practices are nothing like those in small communities like ours. The doctors don't get as close to their patients or know them as well. I'm sure that makes a lot of difference. And he is right about one thing, you know . . . familiarity does tend to foster abuse. We all have a habit of demanding more of you than we have a right to."
"No, you don't. Trust me, if you were asking more of me than I was prepared to give, I'd let you know about it. And as far as the difference between city practices and here, I know exactly what you mean. But that's the reason I don't want to practice in a city. I've tried to explain that to him, but he just doesn't get it. He just keeps repeating that I'm working too hard and that I need to get away for a rest."
"He may be right about that."
"Oh, he is. I am tired and I could really use some time away. He's been pushing me to come to Maryland for a long weekend over Thanksgiving."
Estella looked at her. "I thought you and Benton were scheduled to go to New York over the Thanksgiving weekend."
"We are."
"Are you planning to cancel the trip with Benton, then?" When Barbara didn't answer immediately, Estella rephrased the question. "Do you want to cancel it?"
"No!"
"Well, then tell Mark you're going to New York."
"It's gotten more complicated than that," she said in a subdued voice that caused Estella to sit forward abruptly.
"Why?"
Barbara rose abruptly and strode across the room to an antique secretary that sat near the door into the entryway. Opening a drawer, she pulled out something and thrust it at Estella. "This is why," she said in a choked voice.
Estella took the box from her and opened it. Inside lay one of the most incredible engagement rings she had ever seen. A large, brilliant-cut diamond of at least two carats was mounted on a platinum band that was intricately carved with leaves and vines. A series of smaller rubies, emeralds, and sapphires were arranged on one side of the center stone forming a design that looked like a spray of blooming flowers. Estella had no doubt that a matching wedding band would nestle into the engagement ring, completing the design. It was obviously custom-designed and what it must have cost him, Estella couldn't even begin to imagine. The extravagance left her speechless.
"What do I do, Estella?" Barbara asked, almost in tears.
"How long have you had this?"
"He gave it to me last weekend."
"What did you tell him?"
"I . . . I wasn't expecting it," she said unsteadily, sitting down on the sofa again. "He proposed over dinner, making a major production out of it. He'd hired a violinist and everything." Her hand shook as she took the box back and stared down at the ring. "He made me try it on . . . said he wanted to be certain he remembered my ring size." Barbara stared at her companion. "I didn't know what to say. I just froze. I finally told him that I needed time to think about it."
"What did he say to that?"
"He didn't like it much. He also tried to insist that I wear the ring . . . said that I could take it off if I decided I didn't want to marry him." Her mouth twisted in a slightly bitter smile. "He said it wouldn't be the first time we'd been down that road."
"Did you?"
Barbara shook her head violently. "No! I told him that I wouldn't do that again. That if I put it on, it would be there to stay." Slowly, she took the ring out of the box, slipped it onto her left hand, and just stared down at it. Her hands still shook.
Estella looked at her for a long time. Then she said softly, "So now you've had time to think about it. What are you going to tell him?"
"I . . . I don't know. He wants an answer this weekend." Barbara looked up desperately. "Estella, I'm fond of Mark. He's a good man. I know most of you don't think so, but you don't know him the way I do. He's never been anything but sweet and gentle and considerate and caring to me and . . ."
Estella cut her off mid-sentence. "Do you love him?"
"I . . . I'm sure I . . . could . . ." She trailed off.
"It's a simple question, Barbara," Estella said quietly. "A yes or a no. Look into your heart and answer it. Do you love him?"
"Estella, I'm 44 years old! I've never been married. I have no family. I don't want to be alone the rest of my life!"
"Do . . . you . . . love . . . him?" Barbara closed her eyes, and Estella saw tears sliding down her cheeks. Finally, she whispered, "No." She swallowed hard. "Not the way I love Benton."
Estella reached out and caught the other woman's hand urgently. "You need to tell him, Barbara. It was different five years ago. You were right not to do it then. But things have changed. At least give yourself the chance to find out if it's possible. Talk to him before you commit yourself to anything."
Barbara shook her head wearily. "I've told you before. That's not how Benton sees me. I won't put him in that position. No, this is my decision and I'll just have to make it, no matter how hard it is." She wiped her cheeks with her fingers and sniffed. "Oh God, I'm a mess, and I need to get back to the office. I'm sorry to have dumped this on you, Estella. I just really needed someone to talk to."
"Don't worry about it. Just know that whatever you decide to do, we'll still be friends, okay?"
Barbara nodded. "Thank you."
"I'd better be going," Estella said, rising. "You need to get back to work and my research isn't doing itself while I'm sitting here. Call me, you hear?"
"I will." When Estella let herself out, Barbara was still sitting on the sofa staring down at the ring on her finger.
By the time Estella reached the Compound, she was seriously agitated. She'd thought about the situation the entire way home and the more she considered it, the more convinced she became that Barbara would not be happy if she decided to marry Renquist. As she came through the house, she ran into her husband in the dining room.
"There you are," he said. "I wondered what had become of you. Benton's -"
"It's crazy!" she interrupted, continuing her private thoughts aloud in a ringing tone. "And she won't even try to talk to him about it!"
Race looked bewildered. "Who won't? What are you shouting about?"
"Barbara . . . and that pompous ass Renquist!" Her voice rose in spite of his sudden, frantic gesture. "He's given her a ring! An engagement ring! He must have had to rob Fort Knox to pay for the damned thing. He still thinks he can buy her. And he's pushing for an answer . . . he wants a yes or a no when he gets here this weekend! She's downright panicky . . . not knowing what to do!" Desperately, Race tried to interrupt her, but she was too wound up to pay any attention. "And she's still refusing to tell Benton the truth! Says they're just friends and that's all he'll ever want! She loves him so much . . . and he cares for her too. You can tell it! Race, how can he be that blind??? He's going to lose her!"
"ESTELLA!" Race said loudly and then clamped a hand over her mouth. Leaning forward, he hissed urgently. "Keep it down, for God's sake! Listen to me . . . Benton's back . . . he'll hear you!"
She blinked, focusing fully on her husband for the first time. Pulling his hand away, she replied, "What? Did you say Benton's back?"
"Yes! He got in a few minutes ago."
"Oh, shit," she whispered. "I thought he wasn't due back until the day after tomorrow! Where is he?"
"I don't know."
Benton Quest turned hastily and fled back toward his study. Shutting the door he moved to one of the large chairs in the reading area and dropped into it heavily, trying to absorb the overheard conversation. Renquist asked Barbara Mason to marry him. He felt numb. Somehow, he never imagined it would come to that. He just couldn't see what she saw in the man.
Renquist and his relationship with Barbara was all he'd been able to think about the entire time he'd been gone . . . what it would mean . . . Barbara being married to someone else. He'd never really considered that possibility before. If he thought of the future between them at all, it was just with the assumption that things would remain the way they had been always been. When he needed someone to talk to or when he was lonely and needed companionship, she was always there . . . would always be there. The image of her face suddenly rose to his mind's eye . . . alive with interest, her warm brown eyes focused intently on him, and that small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He suddenly felt cold as it occurred to him that he might never see her that way again.
Other images rose, as well. The memory of her walking down the aisle at Race and Estella's wedding, elegant and lovely; looking at he and Jonny with that stern expression as she tried to help them learn to talk again after he made such a mess of the business with M.I.T.; laughing at his sons as they picked her up out of the snow after she took a spill the first time they all went skiing together; the wind whipping her shoulder-length dark hair around her face as the two of them worked side by side on the sailboat they often took out with a group of their friends; and finally, of her face lit by twinkling lights as they all sang carols around the Christmas tree last year. All of that . . . gone.
"Oh my God . . . I'm in love with her," Benton whispered. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
He'd never even kissed her. It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive. He'd always been aware of her sexuality and Renquist's appearance had only heightened that awareness. But the significance of that lack of physicality really hadn't dawned on him until that last lonely night in Berlin. It made him realize that he'd never done anything to indicate to her how he felt. And now there was someone else telling her the things he never had.
All of a sudden, Estella's other words struck him. She loves him so much . . .
Involuntarily, he looked up at the portrait of Rachel and Jonny that had hung in every house he'd ever owned. For years, the eyes in that portrait had seemed alive to him, and even after he had said his final goodbyes to her spirit, its presence could still bring him a measure of peace. Now, as he gazed at it, he realized it was little more than a picture . . . a memory of good times . . . and nothing more. That part of his life really was over. And the next part . . . the best part of it . . . was on the brink of being lost!
Jumping up, he ran out of the room and made directly for the front closet. Yanking the door open, he grabbed his coat and began tugging it on. Hearing him, Race and Estella came into the entryway.
"Where are you . . ." Race started to say.
"I am an idiot," Benton cut him off. "An absolute and total IDIOT. You both should have smacked some sense into me years ago! I need to go out." Pulling out his car keys, he jerked the front door open and started out. Just over the threshold, he stopped and turned back. "Do me a favor, Race. Take down the portrait of Rachel in my study. I want to move it."
Race's jaw dropped. Finally, he swallowed hard and said, "Sure, Benton. I can do that. Where do you want me to put it?"
Benton shook his head. "I don't know. Just cover it and stick it in the attic for now. I'll think about it later." Then he pulled the door shut and ran for the car.
In the house, Race and Estella looked at each other.
"I think he heard you," Race said.
"Oh, Barbara is going to kill me," she moaned.
Ten minutes later, Benton strode purposefully into Barbara Mason's office. Her waiting room was full and several people greeted him familiarly as he crossed the room to the reception desk.
The young woman behind the desk smiled up at him. "Hi, Dr. Quest. What can I do for you?"
"Good afternoon, Nicki. I need to see Barbara. It's impor . . ."
At that moment, Barbara came into the waiting room escorting an elderly lady with snow-white hair. "Now, you simply must take the medicine I gave you, you understand me? I know you don't like to take pills, but you aren't going to get better if you don't." She looked up and spotted him. For an instant, she looked disconcerted. "Oh Benton! Hello. I didn't know you were back."
"Just got in," he said economically. "Hello, Mrs. Whitehall. I've heard you haven't been feeling well, recently. I hope you're better?" The elderly woman looked at him with bright birdlike eyes and nodded. "That's good. I'm glad. Will you excuse us?" Looking directly at Barbara with a determined expression, he said, "I need to talk to you." Catching her by the arm, he turned her around and guided her back toward her office. "I won't keep you long." If he saw the knowing smirks or relieved expressions on the faces in the waiting room, he gave no sign of it.
Barbara turned to him as he closed her office door, looking nonplussed. "Benton, what in heaven's name is it? You never come here like . . ."
"I am an idiot," he said again, tossing his coat into a nearby chair. Then, without another word, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
At first, Barbara was simply too astonished to respond. When she didn't object to his action, Benton grew bolder, teasing her lips with his tongue and pressing her more firmly against his body. He ran his hand up her back and then tugged gently on her hair until her head dropped back. He released her lips and allowed his mouth to slide along the line of her jaw to her ear and then down her neck to her throat. She gasped and shuddered, her hands clenching in his sweater.
"Benton! What are you doing?" she finally managed.
He drew back slightly and looked down into her eyes. "I spent the entire trip to Europe thinking about you and how much you mean to me. And somewhere during that time, it occurred to me that I assumed you knew how I felt. But I've never told you, have I? No, I can see that I haven't," he said, seeing her stunned expression. She drew a breath to say something, but before she had the chance, he leaned down and began to kiss her again. He was out of practice at this, too, but he did the best he could to convey his feelings in that contact. His free arm pressed her body tightly against his and he took his time, gently urging her to accept what he was trying to make her understand. Slowly, her fists relaxed and her arms slid around him as her lips softened and began to move over his.
Finally, he raised his head, more than a little dazed, and looked at her again. "I love you," he said hoarsely, "and I'm sorry I didn't make it clear sooner."
Shock was finally beginning to recede and she looked up at him, troubled. When she started to move away, Benton tightened his arms, refusing to relinquish his contact with her. "Why now, Benton?" she asked him. "What made you decide to say this to me now . . . after all this time?"
"You know why. Renquist."
Anger flared and she pushed at him roughly. "What did Estella tell you?" she demanded.
"Nothing," he replied honestly. "I haven't talked to her since before I left for Europe."
"What did she tell you before you left?" she demanded relentlessly, pulling away from him and moving out of his reach. She looked tense and very angry.
"Not a thing," he repeated, looking bewildered. "I asked her once what you said about him, but she wouldn't tell me." He paused as realization struck. "Barbara, Estella would never betray a confidence. Whatever you told her, she's never breathed a word of it to me. It really was Renquist that made me open my eyes." He turned away, running a hand through his hair. "Jon says that I can be really clueless sometimes, and he's right. I don't see what's right under my nose. The two of us . . . we've always meshed so well. You have a way of making me see things so clearly, and I feel so at peace when I'm with you. God, I wouldn't have Jon today if it hadn't been for you! I don't know when my feelings for you changed from friendship to love . . . I just know that they did." He grinned wryly, not looking at her. "I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but when Renquist first turned up and started courting you, I found it amusing. It was a game . . . the two of us vying for your attention. Sparring with him was fun. It never occurred to me that he might actually be capable of taking you away from me." Benton sighed and turned back to her, shaking his head. "The entire time I was in Berlin, I was haunted by the idea that I was missing something. I shrugged it off at first, but the thought kept eating at me and I couldn't figure out why. Then, out of nowhere, the idea occurred to me that he might ask you to marry him and it suddenly dawned on me that I had never said or done anything that would tell you how I felt. I just assumed you knew. But then how could you, when I didn't even realize it myself?" He gazed directly into her eyes. "So tell me, Barbara. Has he proposed?"
"He's asked me," she admitted, avoiding his gaze.
"What did you tell him?"
"That I had to think about it."
Holding his breath, Benton crossed to her again. Catching her by the waist, he drew her back into his arms and tilted her head back until she had to meet his eyes. "And have you thought about it?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"What are you going to tell him?"
She searched his face again. Slowly, he felt the tension drain out of her body and he thought he saw the first trace of a smile in her eyes. "That I can't marry him."
"Why not?" he asked, desperately wanting to hear her say the words.
"Because I'm in love with someone else." She reached up and drew his head down. Just before their lips touched again, she whispered softly, "Because I'm in love with you."
When Benton got home sometime later, he found Race and Estella waiting for him anxiously. He smiled at both of them when he saw their worried expressions.
"Is there a problem?" he asked, perversely amused at their agitation.
"No," Race replied hesitantly. "We were just a little worried. You did go tearing out of here rather abruptly."
"I just had some unfinished business I needed to attend to."
"Did you get it all taken care of?" Estella asked.
"Yes, I did. Quite satisfactorily, in fact." He closed the front closet door and said cheerfully, "Well, I suppose I should let Mrs. Evans know that I won't be here for dinner tonight and then get unpacked." He turned toward the kitchen, but then stopped suddenly. Turning back again, he looked at Estella and said quietly, "Thank you, Estella."
She blinked at him. "For what?"
"For being such a good friend . . . to both of us." And then he was gone.