Page 20 of A Treasure Worth Seeking

Whether it was to her liking or not, she had become embroiled in her brother’s life and he was in desperate trouble. He would never be the man he was before. He would either have to go to prison for many years or suffer some other stigma equally as devastating. Yesterday he had been no more to her than a name on a slip of paper, a hope, a promise. Today, he was a real person with real problems, and she couldn’t turn her back on him, her only relative, when he would need all the support he could get.

Her reason for wanting to find Ken was that she longed for a family. What she had expected to find was warmth and happiness, hours filled with laughter and reminiscing. Instead she had walked into a tragic situation. Could that negate the fact that Ken Lyman was her brother? Families didn’t always share joviality. They shared trouble, too. And perhaps that was far more binding.

She had become fond of Melanie. The younger woman’s naiveté and sweetness evoked a maternal affection in Erin and she felt compelled to stay with Melanie and provide whatever help she could during the trying days still to come.

Her decision was made. She would stay in San Francisco.

As she absently sipped her second cup of coffee, she wondered why she felt no relief in having made that important decision. Could it be that she was worried about her business? Taking extended leaves of absence was no way to run a business, particularly one in which the clients often felt they needed to deal with her directly. They trusted Erin’s expert opinion and imaginative, though excellent, taste. Sometimes they wanted her approval before they accepted a proposal presented by one of her employees.

Well, she hadn’t missed more than a few days of work since she had started the business. She had trained her staff well. They would manage. And when one compared the problems that sometimes arose over a fashion show, they seemed far too trivial and superficial to weigh against the ones facing her brother and his wife.

Was it being away from Bart that made her hesitate in offering her assistance to Melanie? He would be peeved at her for staying in San Francisco. He would whine and plead for her to come home, but he would understand. She didn’t intend to tell him about Ken’s crime, but she would make her reasons for staying sound so imperative that a good businessman like Bart would see the advisability of her staying to find the solution to whatever problem detained her.

Melanie had been chattering gaily as sh

e went about the chores of cleaning the kitchen after breakfast. She had insisted that Erin needn’t help her. Erin hoped she was making all the correct responses to Melanie’s questions and comments, but her mind still revolved around her dilemma. Why didn’t she want to stay until Ken was found?

She knew the reason, but didn’t want to face it. It was tucked away somewhere in her mind and she refused to bring it out of the safe corner into which she had hidden it.

Lance Barrett.

She didn’t want to stay here with him around. It hadn’t happened often in her life that Erin had been made to feel a fool. Her practical parents had taught her well to handle herself with aplomb, and she had never shied away from adversity, but rather met it head on.

How then could she have been so swayed by Lance last night? She should have fought him with all her strength when he first kissed her. She should have slapped his face hard, called Mike to her rescue, anything but lie there and respond so wantonly to his caresses. What had possessed her to behave that way?

She had resisted the advances of men since high school. And resistance had become more difficult and the advances more complex the older she became. Bart’s persistent urging that she share his bed was an example of that. She had never allowed a man such access to her. Except, of course, poor Joseph. But that was totally different.

Still, Lance’s attitude this morning was baffling. Just after he had switched off the light in the study last night, he had talked about Ken’s future. He hadn’t sounded as though he were speaking in an official capacity. He had sounded concerned. His kiss had been that of an ardent lover. Her body was no longer a stranger to his. He had spoken her name in an emotional whisper after that electrifying interlude in the darkness.

This morning he had reverted to that cool, impersonal demeanor and called her Miss O’Shea in that dictatorial voice. But he hadn’t taunted her. He didn’t look like a man pleased with himself. He seemed distraught and worried. She couldn’t figure it out. Even though she had no illusions of him having any real romantic interest in her, she had expected some kind of reaction.

Even more galling was the fact that she found herself unable to forget his kisses. Though what had happened seemed to have had no effect on him, it had affected her. She had experienced sensations she hadn’t known she was capable of until last night. Could she bear to stay in the same city with him, seeing him each time she came to visit Melanie? Her sudden involvement in Ken’s life was staggering enough. She would be complicating matters a hundredfold if she became attracted to Lance Barrett.

The questions and arguments skipped and played through her mind until she was ready to scream. And still she didn’t know what course of action to take.

Meeting Melanie’s parents convinced her of what she should do.

The couple rang the doorbell late that morning. Lance had not yet come back from across the street so Mike went to answer the door, after checking their identity through the draped living room window.

Erin, who was seated on the couch looking through a magazine, realized that Lance must have watched her before opening the door. She remembered waiting a long time for him to respond to the ringing doorbell.

Mike followed the couple into the living room and grumbled, “I’d better call Lance,” before going to the red telephone and speaking into it. “Does he see them? Okay.” He hung up and then said, “He’ll be right over.”

“We didn’t come to see Mr. Barrett, and I resent not being able to visit my daughter without feeling like I’m being interrogated by that man.”

The woman who had dressed down Mike so harshly was apparently used to getting her own way and never being subjected to anyone else’s will. With a rueful smile Erin thought that indeed Lance would have been a shock to Melanie’s mother.

She was a short woman whose figure necessitated moderation at the canape trays at cocktail parties. Her skin and hair were impeccably maintained. The dress she wore was casual, but Erin knew which designer’s label was inside. Its price wasn’t so casual, unless one were accustomed to having and spending a lot of money, which apparently Mrs. Charlotte Winslow was.

Howard Winslow was as well-groomed and stereotypical as his wife. His graying hair was closely trimmed around a patrician head. Had she not already known his profession, Erin could have guessed it at a glance. His dark blue suit, white shirt, and dark necktie indicated that he must have come straight from the bank of which he was president. His assurance, level steadfast eyes, and authoritative manner would imbue the customers of his bank with confidence and peace of mind that their money was well taken care of.

Erin disliked them intensely and immediately.

Melanie came skipping down the stairs when she heard her mother’s voice and now she flew into the room, breathless and excited.

“Oh honestly, Melanie, I wish you’d let me make a hair appointment for you. That limp, straight hair is disgusting. Just because your husband has pulled this asinine stunt, do you have to let yourself go to seed, too?”

Erin was stunned by Mrs. Winslow’s words. How could a mother speak to her child that way? Especially a child whose whole world had crumbled around her.

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