Long ago, he’d outgrown the need or desire to kiss his mother good night, but Sarah Jo continued to expect it. Her feelings would be hurt if he didn’t. He and Angus went out of their way to spare Sarah Jo’s feelings, which were always tenuous.
“It always smells good in here,” he commented for lack of anything else to say. The dressing down he’d received in front of Alex still smarted. He was impatient to leave the house and go to one of the local nightspots where he wouldn’t have to concentrate on his problems.
“Sachets. I keep them in all my drawers and closets. When I was a girl, we had a maid who made them from crushed dried flowers and herbs. They smelled wonderful,” she said reminiscently. “Now I have to order them. They use artificial scents in them these days, but I still think they’re pretty.”
“How’s the book?” Junior was already bored with the subject of sachets.
“Quite interesting.”
He seriously doubted it, but he smiled down at her. “Good. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
Sarah Jo sensed his melancholy mood. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I can tell when something’s wrong.”
?
??Nothing out of the ordinary. I got on Dad’s bad side by interrupting his discussion with Alex.”
Sarah Jo made a moue of displeasure. “Your father still hasn’t learned how to conduct himself when there’s company in the house. If he can be rude enough to cart a guest out of the living room during the cocktail hour, you can be rude enough to interrupt a discussion.”
She bobbed her head as though she had said her piece and that settled the matter. “What were they discussing so privately, anyway?”
“Something about her mother’s death,” he said nonchalantly. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Are you sure? Everybody seemed so tense tonight.”
“If there’s any cause for alarm, Dad’ll take care of it, the way he always does. It’s certainly nothing for you to worry about.”
He had no intention of telling his mother about Alex’s investigation. The men in Sarah Jo’s life knew she hated being exposed to anything upsetting or unpleasant, and protected her from it.
Angus never discussed business with her, especially when it was bad. She was disappointed when their horses didn’t perform well at the track and celebrated when they did, but beyond that, neither the ranch, nor any of the subsidiary companies comprising Minton Enterprises, held much interest for her.
Indeed, nothing held much interest for Sarah Jo, with the possible exception of Junior. She was like a beautiful doll, sealed inside a sterile room, never exposed to light or any other corrupting element—especially life itself.
Junior loved his mother, but recognized that she wasn’t well liked. By contrast, everybody liked Angus. A few of his friends’ wives, out of loyalty and obligation, were friendly to Sarah Jo. If not for them, she wouldn’t have any acquaintances in Purcell at all.
She’d certainly never gone out of her way to cultivate a friendship. She thought most of the locals were vulgar and coarse, and she made no attempt to conceal her low opinion of them. She seemed perfectly content to reside in this room, surrounded by the soft, pretty, uncomplicated things she liked and understood best.
Junior knew she was the object of derision and gossip. It was said that she drank. She didn’t, except for two glasses of wine before dinner. Some, who didn’t understand her delicate sensibilities, thought she was odd. Others thought she was just plain “off.”
Admittedly, she was distracted a good deal of the time, as though mentally reliving the privileged childhood she treasured. She had never quite recovered from the premature death of a beloved brother, and had still been mourning it when she had met Angus.
Junior wondered if she had married his father to escape unpleasant memories. He could find no other grounds for two such mismatched people to base a marriage on.
Junior was eager to get on his way to having a good time, but he lengthened tonight’s visit, curious to know his mother’s opinion of their guest that evening. “What did you think of her?”
“Who, Celina’s daughter?” Sarah Jo asked absently. Her brows drew together into a slight frown. “She’s very attractive physically, though I don’t find such flamboyant coloring flattering to a woman.”
Thoughtfully, she fingered the fine lace on the bodice of her bed jacket. “She’s certainly intense, isn’t she? Much more serious-minded than her mother. Celina was a silly little thing, God knows. As I recall, she was always laughing.” She paused and cocked her head to one side, as though listening to distant laughter. “I don’t remember ever seeing that girl when she wasn’t laughing.”
“There were plenty of times. You just didn’t know her that well.”
“Poor darling. I know you were crushed when she died. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. It’s sheer misery.”
Her voice, so soft, changed suddenly, as did her expression. No longer a shrinking violet, her features hardened with resolve. “Junior, you must stop letting Angus embarrass you, especially in front of other people.”