Chapter 2

Mrs. Beecher came floating down the stairs of their imposing mansion, feeling very pleased with herself. She fingered the expensive crepe of her dress and adjusted the scarf around her neck, making sure it was high enough to cover the wrinkles that had reminded her that very morning to call the plastic surgeon and talk about taking care of them. She knew her husband was very proud of her appearance, and those wrinkles would have to go. After all, she reasoned, the opera ball was only three months away, and she had planned a particularly daring, low-cut gown for that event, something chic and simple to serve as a background for the new diamond necklace and bracelet that she had received for Christmas. "Another little bauble from Neiman's," her husband had said, handing her the package with his usual self-satisfied grin.

Mrs. Beecher paused a moment at the bottom and then turned to go into the dining room, looking around approvingly at the neatness that reminded her once again that her servants were undoubtedly the best in Dallas. They ought to be; she paid them enough.

She pushed open the swinging door and entered the kitchen, where Carrie was busily preparing the vegetables for the evening meal. Mrs. Beecher insisted on fresh garden vegetables; the cuisine at her meals was her pride and joy. "None of that frozen shit," she used to say proudly when asked about her cooking. "We get only the best, home-grown and organically fertilized, if you know what that means," she would add with a meaningful twist of her mouth.

She sat at the table and looked across at Carrie, who smiled vaguely at her.

"You all right today?" Mrs. Beecher asked in her best treat-the-servants-right tone.

Carrie nodded, and belched quietly.

"I'm fine, Miz Beecher," she said, her voice pinpointing her origin at somewhere around Big Spring. "Y'all feelin' good yourself? You sure look purty today."

"Thank you, Carrie."

Mrs. Beecher rose and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove. "Isn't Janice down yet?" Carrie shook her head. "No, ma'am. Ain't seen her all morning." Mrs. Beecher pouted.

"I wonder what time she got in last night."

Carrie stared at her, her small beady eyes sparkling. "I guess it must've bin round two," she said. "I heard the car."

"Hm. I told her to be home by one. Honestly, Carrie, these kids today think the nights aren't meant for sleeping. We must have our sleep if we're gonna retain our youth, I always say."

Carrie sniggered.

"Nights is for better things than sleepin'," she said. "Especially if you're as purty as Miss Janice."

Mrs. Beecher frowned.

"If you're suggesting anything about Janice, you'd better think again," she snapped. "That girl of mine's not like some trash I could mention."

"I didn't mean nothin'," said Carrie, shifting her ample frame in the chair as she reached for another handful of beans. "But there ain't nothin' wrong in sowin' a few oats before you settle down. And Miss Janice is plannin' on marryin' up with that Harrington boy, ain't she?"

Mrs. Beecher nodded. "Just as soon as he's twenty-one," she said. "And I know I'll be happy when she finally is wedded and bedded. At least it'll be a worry off my mind."

"You worry too much, Miz Beecher," said Carrie, staring hard at her employer, who sat nervously stirring her coffee. "Janice sure is old enough to care for herself. You brought her up good."

"I hope so, Carrie. I want my child to be a God-fearing woman who'll make a good wife and mother." She sipped her coffee and licked her lips appreciatively. "Not like those Kilkenny girls. Little tramps."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that now. You've bin listenin' to too much gossip. My cousin from Amarillo worked for the Kilkennys. They ain't half as bad as people say they is."

Mrs. Beecher sniffed deprecatingly.

"Tramps," she repeated. "All of 'em. Just 'cos they have money doesn't mean they're any better'n the rest of us."

Carrie giggled. "No, but they sure can afford to do and say what they like," she said. "Money can cover a lot of sins."

"I don't think Old Man Kilkenny has enough money to do that for his daughters," said Mrs. Beecher. "Unless he owns Fort Knox."

The door swung open and Janice entered. She was dressed in a filmy dress, and her hair was tied back in a ribbon. She wore little makeup; she looked fresh and innocent.

"Good morning," she greeted. "How's everyone today?"

"My, my, aren't we the cheerful one this morning?" Mrs. Beecher tilted her cheek carefully to receive Janice's duty kiss.

"Sure," said Janice, going to the coffeepot. "I feel pretty good."

"How was the movie?" asked Mrs. Beecher.

"The movie?" Janice dropped two lumps of sugar into her coffee and moved to the table. "Oh, it was all right."

"You went to the Majestic, didn't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"They're showing that Charlton Heston flick, ain't they?" asked Carrie.

"Yes. It was really a bore. All those gladiators and crap. I really didn't enjoy it that much, but it was all right."

Mrs. Beecher stared at her daughter and pursed her lips.

"And how's Glenn?"

"He's fine."

Janice's smile dropped slightly as she thought of Glenn.

"You don't sound too sure 'bout that."

"Of course I am. Why shouldn't I be?"

Mrs. Beecher smiled and patted Janice's arm.

"Because I know my little girl. When something's bothering you, I can tell it. And I'd be willing to bet my new diamond necklace that something's wrong this morning."

Janice stared at her mother and frowned.

"Mother, stop worrying. I said everything's all right."

Carrie giggled.

"Your mother always worries, you know that. I reckon even after you're married, she'll still worry about you."

"Crap!" Mrs. Beecher's voice exploded across the room.

"Mother!" Janice glared at her mother, conscious of the older woman's piercing eyes boring into her.

"Did he try anything he shouldn't?" Janice lifted her eyes to the ceiling in disgust and shook her head slowly. Carrie giggled.

"No, he didn't," said Janice in a tired voice.

Carrie broke into loud laughter. "Then he ain't the man I figured him for."

Mrs. Beecher glared at Carrie.

"Hush your mouth, Carrie," she snapped. "Glenn's a very respectable young man. At least I hope so." She stared at Janice and her voice softened. "Something is wrong, though, isn't there, baby?"

Janice sipped her coffee and reached for a cigarette in her pocket. She slowly lighted it before replying.

"Well, Glenn wants to get married right away, and I keep telling him to wait, like we agreed. Last night he said maybe we shouldn't see each other so often. He says it's too frustrating for him." She sighed. "It's not easy for me, either, Mother."

Mrs. Beecher nodded and smiled importantly.

"I knew it. I knew it."

Carrie giggled again. "Ain't nothin' wrong in that. I don't see why you don't get hitched right away. What's this waitin' for, anyway? I got married when I was fourteen." She nodded sagely. "Best thing that ever happened to me. 'Course it didn't last but a year, but at least I was all broken in for my next husband. That one lasted ten years, would you believe? A real good guy. Pity he got in the way of that truck. I've yet to find one like him. He was every inch a man." She giggled. "Plenty of inches, too, as I recall."

"Carrie!" Mrs. Beecher's voice dripped icicles. "Kindly keep your trashy comments to yourself. Janice's future is none of your business, anyway."

"Yes, Mrs. Beecher, ma'am," replied Carrie sarcastically. "Only I hate to see this girl fretting over something like that."

"It's all right," said Janice, going for another cup of coffee. "Maybe Glenn's right. Maybe we should cool it for a while."

There was a brief silence, and Mrs. Beecher tapped the table with a well-manicured forefinger.

"Maybe you'd like a few weeks away, Janice."

Janice sat down again.

"Maybe that would be nice."

"Why not go down to the Mayan Ranch?"

Janice's eyes lit up. "Hey, that would be fun. I haven't been there in years."

"I know you haven't, and the last time you went, you had more fun than a barrel of monkeys. And I know the Holts'd be thrilled to have you. I saw Emily only a few months ago at the muscular dystrophy benefit. She's living there, and her son's still running the place. She said they'd built some extra rooms and also bought the Flying L. If you ask me, Emily Holt'll end up owning the whole town of Bandera before she's through."

Janice's mind fled back to the summer she spent at the Mayan Ranch outside Bandera, just a few miles north of San Antonio. Operated by the Holt family, who were old friends of her father's, the ranch had progressed from a small working ranch into one of the leading tourist attractions of the state, complete with a Western false-front town where occasionally movies would be shot. And every Saturday, the Mayan cowhands would stage a mock gunfight in the Western town for the benefit of the guests. It was a fun place, and certainly just the spot to get away from everything; and the more Janice thought, the more she realized that it might be a good idea for her to go away, to chase the frustrations she felt over Glenn. At least she might get her mind off the incredible hunger she felt in her loins, the mounting desire for Glenn to take her bodily, a yearning that she felt she could not satisfy before they were married. There would be riding, swimming, parties, a good healthy outdoor life that would tire her out so she'd sleep good at night, instead of lying awake, thinking about Glenn, and letting her fingers stray down between her legs...

"Mother, I think I'd like to go down there for a while. Do you think-"

Mrs. Beecher interrupted her with a wave of her hand.

"I'll call Emily this very minute." Mrs. Beecher leaned over and squeezed Janice's hand. "And don't you worry about Glenn. I was the same with your father. I just couldn't wait till I had that ring on my finger. And after that, everything was fine."

Janice stared after her mother as she walked quickly out of the kitchen. Carrie raised her eyebrows and grinned at Janice.

"I think you're doin' the best thing," she said. "Between that mother of yours and that young man, I figure you've been 'bout fit to be tied these last few weeks."

Janice nodded.

"That's true, Carrie. Maybe it'll be best if I do get away. From both of them."

"'Sides, there're plenty of horny cowhands down there," said Carrie with an evil giggle. "You'll not lack for company."

Janice flushed.

"I'm going down there for a rest," she said. "Not to get involved."

Carrie snickered.

"Janice, you're too purty not to get involved," she commented. "And if you want my advice, you'll have a fling. It'll be your last chance, remember, and there's nothin' better than lookin' back and remembering the beaus you've had. The one you sleep with every night can git a little tiresome after the first few months, take it from me."

Janice's face took on a look of mock horror.

"Carrie, you're terrible. When I marry Glenn, he's going to be my husband. I happen to love him very much."

"Sure," said Carrie offhandedly. "You love 'em all till you get used to 'em. Then you start lookin' for someone else. There's nothin' better than a fresh face lyin' next to you in bed, take it from me. I've bin through enough husbands in my time. I know."

"Stop it!" Janice's voice amazed her with its vehemence. "I'll be faithful to Glenn. And nothing you say will make me think different."

"Wait till you get to my age," replied Carrie. "After thirty years, you're a lot different. Men are all the same when the lights are out. And it takes a heap of men to make you know which one you really want, too. You gotta try 'em all, baby, believe me."

Janice stared at the plump, middle-aged figure opposite her and shook her head.

"Glenn's the only one I want," she said softly. "And I haven't tried any yet. I know."

Carrie shook her head. "You don't know nothin' till you've snuggled up in bed next to a man and felt him make love to you, baby. And every man's different in the way he does it. And they've all got something 'bout 'em that turns you on. It's like eatin'. There's lotsa different kindsa food. Like these beans here." She lifted the sliced beans from the bowl and let them fall back slowly. "One day you like beans. The next day it'll be carrots. And so on. They're all part of the menu, but there sure is one you like more'n the rest. You'll see. You'll learn."

They both turned as the kitchen door swung open and Mrs. Beecher came bustling through, her face beaming.

"Just talked to Emily," she said. "She says to come on down right away. They'll be thrilled to have you as long as you want to stay. She even suggested we have the wedding down there. I told her that was out of the question, but you'd be down for a few weeks, anyway. Come on, Janice, I'll help you pack. You can take off this afternoon and be down there by dinner time."

Janice rose and smiled down at Carrie.

"Good. Why don't you fix me some eggs and bacon while I pack? I'm suddenly very hungry."

Carrie grinned. "Comin' right up."

Mrs. Beecher put her arm around Janice's waist and they walked out of the kitchen and up to the bedroom. Carrie looked after them, and slowly eased out of the chair and went over to the stove, shaking her head and smiling to herself.

"Out of the frying pan into the fire," she murmured.

The little MG ate up the miles, roaring round the bends and zipping down the long straight stretches. Janice had the top down, and her long blonde hair streamed behind her in the wind. She felt a glorious sense of freedom, of complete relaxation. With her hands on the steering wheel, she felt she was in control of her life; no mother to tell her what to do; no Glenn to arouse her to a point of painful frustration; nothing to disturb the calm which had crept into her being the minute she left the Dallas skyline behind her. She hadn't even called Glenn; her mother promised to do that and explain that Janice merely felt she needed a little rest on her own before the wedding. Janice knew that Glenn would probably be upset because she didn't call him personally, but that was tough. She was in no mood to wrangle on the phone with him, and she knew he would object, despite his words the night before. He had really been right, anyway; they had seen each other too often. The pressures were natural, but too much. And she understood how he felt; she felt the same way herself, only she just couldn't bring herself to submit to something she felt was basically wrong. She knew how much she wanted to have sex with Glenn, just as much as he wanted to. But if she had given in, she knew she could never have walked down the aisle with a clear conscience. She knew her mother's voice would ring in her ears throughout the entire wedding ceremony, reminding her that she did not go to her marriage bed a virgin. And that was one thing she was going to have, a precious jewel she would cherish for the rest of her life. No matter whether she and Glenn remained married for the next twenty years or not, she would always have the personal satisfaction that she had upheld her principles.

She thought of Carrie's blunt words in the kitchen that morning. She wouldn't deny that there would probably be a lot of attractive young men on the ranch. Last time she was there, she had been attracted to almost every single man, guest or ranch hand. They had seemed each one appealing in some special way, from their bulging blue jeans to their tanned, handsome faces and muscular bodies. So who could tell about this visit? Maybe she would find someone who turned her on; but that would be expected. Everyone on vacation is eager to find a bed partner. And while she didn't plan on going to bed with anyone, Janice knew that there would be other times she could spend with them that would be pleasurable.

But then... wouldn't the same frustration pop up? Wouldn't she feel the same urge that she did for Glenn? She shook her head, trying to chase the thought, but finally decided that it was better to face it. No, she wouldn't feel frustrated, she reasoned, because Glenn was someone she loved. A casual vacation acquaintance would hold a passing attraction, admittedly, but there wouldn't be the deeper feeling that would prompt her to roll into bed. But what if she did meet someone who did turn her on? Wouldn't it be the same story all over again? She decided that at least that might be easier to handle than being with Glenn, whom she loved and wanted so very desperately, and whose presence even in company made her turn her thoughts to sex with him. With a stranger it would not be hard to push the thought away, no matter how attractive he might be. She would only have to remember her mother's terse comments about those Kilkenny girls; she wasn't going to be like them, not for anything. She was going to remain pure, at least physically.

The miles sped by and the sun sank lower on the horizon until, just as she turned off the main highway, it dipped beneath the Bandera hills and a warm glow encompassed the country, giving her a feeling of relaxed contentment. The drive had been a good one. Despite her thoughts, she felt better; she felt she was going to enjoy herself for the next few weeks, away from her usual routine and away from Glenn, and away from those guilt-ridden desires that had made her so miserable.

The car pulled up outside the large stone ranchhouse which served as a reception hall for the guests. Janice climbed out and stretched, gazing around at the blue-purple hills in the distance and smelling in her nostrils that wide-open flavor, a mixture of sagebrush and horse-dung and mixed in with it somewhere the tantalizing odor of barbecued ribs.

She looked around, noting that the large swimming pool was still there, its surface dotted with a few heads. She heard the happy shouts of the visitors as they splashed around. To the East she saw the bunkhouses and the stables and heard the faint whinny of a horse. In between the trees she saw the dozens of small stone cottages that constituted much of the charm of the Mayan Ranch. No sterile motel rooms here; only the solid, traditional Texan stone cottage, complete with modern plumbing, but otherwise the same as Texans had lived in for decades on the ranch.

With a sigh, Janice lifted her suitcase out of the back seat and walked up the rough stone steps towards the ranchhouse. As she approached the main entrance, the door flew open and a tall, lanky figure in blue jeans, Western shirt and hat, came rushing out, a happy grin on his handsome face.

"Janice!"

Elton Gray took several giant strides and lifted her up into his arms and kissed her.

"Gee, honey, you look wonderful!"

"Hello, Elton. Where's the family?"

He put his arm around her, took her suitcase, and led her inside to the office.

"The Holts are gone, except for Emily, of course, and she's having dinner. I'm in charge for now."

Janice remembered Elton from her last visit; he had been head foreman, and obviously he had been promoted. He was a pleasant enough young man, and they had had several dates on her previous visit. She felt he was somewhat overpowering with the welcome, but it did give her a warm glow which she enjoyed.

"Emily said to show you to your cabin, and then join her for dinner," said Elton, reaching behind the desk for a key. "You're in Number 22. That's in the second row behind the first turn-off."

Janice laughed.

"I think you'd better show me. I don't remember those trails so well."

She remembered how easy it was to get lost among the trees which made every cabin practically a private world of its own.

"Sure. I'll ride with you in your car, okay?"

They walked back outside, and Elton eased his large frame into the passenger seat as Janice started the car and eased it forward over the bumpy track between the trees.

"First right and then second left," Elton said, his dark brown eyes taking in her face and then her figure, which he noted with satisfaction.

"You've grown up some, by golly," he remarked. "You're quite a hunk of woman now, Janice."

She flushed with pleasure and smiled at him. "I'm a few years older," she reminded him. "And I'm engaged to be married."

"He's lucky, but he must be awful stupid," he said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Letting you off by yourself, especially down here,'.' was the reply. "Hell, I can see every man on the ranch chasing after you."

Janice laughed.

"They do that with anything in skirts," she said. "So what else is new?"

Elton laughed, a deep, rich sound coming from the depths of his chest.

"Well, there's girls and then there's girls," he said. "And I'd say you're something else again. Something real special. I've thought about you a lot since your last visit."

Janice's mind fled back, remembering Elton and how much he had been attracted to her; they had gone riding many times; they had swum together at midnight, and under the surface of the pool she had felt his strong hands on her hips, and she knew she had only to say the word and he would have carried her off into the bushes and consummated the feeling that he obviously had for her. She had let him kiss her several times; once in the pool, in fact, when she felt his rock-hard penis pushing against his swim-suit as he held her. Yes, she and Elton had been quite close, and she was vaguely afraid that he might take her visit now as an opportunity to continue where he left off. She felt it wise to change the subject.

"So how come the Holts aren't here?" she asked, negotiating a sharp turn in the road.

"Oh, David had to go into San Antonio on business," was the reply. "Since they bought the Flying L, I think David's more interested in real estate than running the ranch. I don't mind, though. It's meant a promotion for me, and easier work. Hey, you remember Smiley and Curt?"

Janice nodded, remembering the ranch hands who had helped her at the stables.

"Yes."

"They're looking forward to seeing you again. I told them you were coming, and they said they'd put on a clean shirt for you tonight."

Janice laughed.

"I hope that's not the only time they change clothes," she said. "What about their other girlfriends?"

Elton laughed. "You got an adding machine?" he said. "Hell, those two studs have half the girls in this town up in the air. Smiley especially. He's grown quite a bit since you were here. Quite the ladies' man."

"Aren't they all?"

The car turned the last bend slowly, and Elton pointed to a stone cabin under a large tree.

"That's yours. Pull up next to it."

With a cloud of dust, they came to a stop, and Elton took her suitcase and led the way to the door.

The key scraped in the lock, and he swung the heavy timbers back and allowed Janice to walk inside. Her heels clacked on the tile floor, and she looked around with satisfaction.

"This is lovely," she murmured. "Larger and nicer than the cabin I had last time."

"Our best," said Elton, depositing her suitcase on the bed and standing back, admiring her trim figure with its blossoming bustline and narrow waist. "Janice, you sure have grown, I'll say that. You look like a movie star."

"Oh, shut up, Elton."

She laughed and walked over to the window, peering out into the gathering darkness.

"Tell you what. Let me wash my face and hands and I'll drive you back and go eat with Emily."

"Fine. Take your time."

He settled in one of the large armchairs beside the fireplace and stared at her.

Janice clicked open her suitcase, took out her makeup kit, and disappeared into the bathroom. As she splashed water on her face, she smiled to herself. Elton had also grown into a most attractive man, no longer a young wrangler, but a man in every sense Of the word. She felt a warm glow in her loins. Stop it, stop it, she chided herself. You're engaged to Glenn; stop thinking that way about Elton. He's probably got a dozen girls on a string himself, just like the others. All these ranch hands were notorious for their amorous adventures; Elton was no exception, she felt sure. He probably figured he'd make a play for her, and she wondered what her reaction would be.

The best thing would be not to give him the opportunity. She could go riding with him, or swimming, but never after dark; and always watch herself in the clinches, if there were any.

She patted her face dry, applied some lipstick and came back out, smiling at him.

"Okay, let's go. I'm starving."

"Good." He stood back and let her leave the room, then he locked the door and handed her the key. "Here, don't lose it."

"I won't lose anything," she said.

The car roared into life, the headlights cut through the darkness, and they moved down the trail toward the ranchhouse.

"Well, my dear, you're looking wonderful."

Emily Holt eased back in her chair, her face beaming. Her features, well preserved for sixty, were well covered with makeup, and her fingers gleamed with jewels. Her hair, dyed a flaming red, was piled high upon her head. Her dress, almost a perfect match to her hair, was cut low in front, showing the beginning of an ample bosom which, legend had it, had been old man Holt's pride and joy until he found one not so large and half Emily's age, and had traded his million-dollar ranch for a million-dollar baby.

"You are, too."

Janice helped herself to meat and vegetables and began eating.

"Your mother sounded well. Everything all right at home?"

Janice nodded.

"Yes, Mother and Daddy are both fine. They never change."

Emily nodded. "True, more's the pity. Especially that mother of yours. Much as I adore her, I often wish she'd trade those Baptist hymns for a bottle of bourbon. She doesn't know the fun she misses in life."

Janice laughed. "Mother's all right, even though she's a little straitlaced."

Emily's deep voice guffawed across the room, causing several of the guests to look up from their meals and smile. Emily's laugh was one of the attractions of the ranch. Unlike many ranch owners, Emily Holt did not seclude herself from her visitors; she joined them at meals; she rode with them; she played hostess, and as a result had helped build the Mayan Ranch into its present prosperity. Even in the winter, there was seldom a cabin vacant.

"I wouldn't call your mother straitlaced. I'd call her a professional hypocrite. But then, if it makes her happy. I often wonder about you, though. You've grown, child. You're a woman now. I hear you're gonna be married soon."

Janice nodded. "Glenn Harrington."

Emily whistled. "Well, you've outdone your mother. She married your father when he had only half a million. I hear Glenn's due for a cool million when he's twenty-one."

Janice flushed.

"I happen to love him, Emily."

"I didn't say you didn't. And don't be so touchy. There's nothing wrong with marrying money."

Janice nodded. "That's what Mother always says."

"She's right. What's he like?"

Janice smiled happily. "Oh, he's good-looking, and I've known him since school. Oh, what can I say? When you love someone..."

"I know. I know. I felt that way about Mr. Holt. The first years are really what you remember, so make yours count. Any marriage gets stale after a while. It's only human nature. Don't count on spending the rest of your life with him; just take the present and enjoy it. It's a lot easier that way."

There was a note of sadness in her voice, and Janice stared at her, noting that the customary smile had faded slightly.

"Is that why you've never remarried?"

Emily nodded. "Hell, I'm having too much fun being single again. I can dance any one of my cowhands off their feet, and drink anyone under the table. So why the hell should I tie myself down to some old codger who only wants me in bed by nine, and then all he can do is grunt and breathe heavily until he falls asleep. No, my girl, I'll take the single life from here on in. No regrets."

Janice laughed. "You're a character," she murmured. "It's good to be with you again."

Emily stared at her intently. "Why did you come down here, Janice? I had a feeling from your mother's voice today that something was wrong."

Janice shrugged, and took a sip of water.

"Nothing's wrong. It's just that... well, Glenn and I are not getting married till he turns twenty-one, which is a few weeks away yet. And..."

Emily laughed loudly again. "I think I understand. He wants a little taste and you're not giving out till you've made it legal. Is that it?"

Janice gasped. "How did you guess?"

Emily grinned. "I've known your mother twenty years, and I've seen the way she's brought you up. I'm willing to bet you're a virgin, and your young man wants to find out. Right?"

Janice nodded, blushing.

"Well, well, there's no better place than the Mayan to take your mind off your problems," she said lightly. "Just watch your step down here, though. We have a lot of horny young men around, both working here and visiting. So watch yourself."

"I intend to. I didn't come down here to do anything but get away from home for a while, and away from Glenn. I do love him, believe me, but I think it will be better if we don't see each other for a while."

"Good. You'll appreciate him all the more when you do finally make it with him." Emily laughed again. "After the wedding, naturally."

Janice nodded. "After the wedding," she said firmly. "Call me old-fashioned if you like, but then that's the way I want it."

Emily nodded. "Good for you. There're too many girls today who think it's smart to give up their virginity about the time they reach puberty. Take it from me, my girl, that ain't the way to start out. Being old-fashioned has nothing to do with it. It's just plain common sense."

Janice smiled happily to hear the words of encouragement.

"I'm glad you said that, Emily," she said. "I've often felt there was something wrong with me because of the way I am."

"There's nothing wrong with virginity," said Emily. "Except on an old maid of sixty."

They both laughed, and Janice pushed her plate away.

"Oh, wow, that was great," she murmured. "The food is always so good here."

"I got the best chef in Texas," said Emily. "He got his training in Paris." Her eyes twinkled. "Paris, Texas, that is. He used to sling hash at a short-order truck stop until I found him and brought him here ten years ago. Back then he couldn't tell filet from chuck, but now... it's a different matter. He can whip up anything you might want, provided you tell him how."

They laughed again, and Emily beckoned a waiter.

"You bring our coffee to my apartment," she said. "Come, Janice, we can relax and visit a while."

"Fine."

As they walked out, several guests nodded and greeted her. Janice noticed two young men sitting to one side, both of whom were very attractive and who eyed her with more than passing interest. Yes, she thought, it's going to be an interesting few weeks.