Chapter 1
Rushing southwest across Illinois, April Williams had made the long drive from Chicago, her thoughts and feelings alternating from quiet triumph to keen disappointment. The mucky, humid heat of the last days of August had not helped her to strike any sort of emotional balance. She had fought sweat, sun glare and traffic all the long miles-having set out to complete the drive in a single day. By nightfall heat, humidity and weariness had proved too much and she had stopped at a rambling motel, unable to resist its promise of air-conditioned comfort.
But yesterday's insecurities had vanished by this morning. After a sound sleep she looked through the window on the shifting green-gold pattern of sunlight through maple leaves. She stretched long arms out wide, glorying in the lifting of her taut, firm breasts against thin, summery pajama tops. She sucked in her belly, tensed every muscle, new vitality coursing through her. Enthusiasm and hope surged back. She relaxed and took a deep, pleased breath. Another hour's drive-fifty miles or less-stood between her and her first job. By tonight she could honestly claim to be part of an ancient, honorable-if slightly underpaid-profession.
As of tonight, so-far unknown people would say of her, April Williams? Oh, she teaches science at the high school.
April's full, dark lips broke in a pleased smile at the thought. She jumped out of bed. Slender fingers deftly loosened buttons and the pajama tops sailed onto the bed. Air and sun caressed her bare white shoulders, shapely back and full breasts.
Abruptly she realized that she stood in full view of anyone who might come into the deserted motel court.
She gasped, swept up the tops again and held them across her breasts as she jumped to the window and drew the long drapes. She had forgotten until this moment the constant going and coming of motel guests last night. Now she frowned as full memory flooded back. She moved thoughtfully to the bed and sat down on its edge.
From the time she had driven in, showered, changed clothes and had a dinner of sorts in the little cafe adjoining the motel office she had witnessed almost constant muted activity about her. People, some of them young, had come and gone, many surreptitiously. But as she had lingered over after-dinner coffee, she had seen a hot rod whip down the highway, make the turn into the motel drive with dangerous speed and come to a rocking stop before the office with no effort at secrecy.
She remembered how she had held her cup poised as she had realized the boy and girl in the car were no more than that-adolescents, no older than the pupils she expected to teach. The boy had gone into the office while the girl, dressed in shorts and a brief halter that had barely covered breasts surprisingly full and rich for so young a girl, had waited in the car. The boy had soon returned, jumped into the car and rolled it sedately to the far end of the court. A moment later he and the girl had disappeared into one of the units.
April had been unpleasantly surprised. Adults cheated in places like this-cheated on morals, convention, each other and themselves. But this place catered to kids....
She had heard other cars drive in and out of the court, the crunch of gravel under tires clear in the night. She had listened to occasional loud male laughter-the sounds grew younger, apparently, as the night wore on-a girl's voice raised in mock protest, the faint slamming of a distant door.
What sort of a place had she chanced on? The motel had looked inviting when she had arrived-but she had wondered if it were one those "hot-pillow" operations she had heard about.
Now the court was silent. April shook her head, driving away her speculations of the night before. She might never see this place again. Forget it, she commanded herself.
She dropped the pajama tops again, kicked her long legs out of the trousers and her eager acceptance of the day returned. She hummed as she pulled a bathing cap over her dark hair, turned the shower faucets in the bathroom and adjusted the water temperature.
She stood beneath the needle drive of the water, eyes closed. The water stung her shoulders, caressed the rest of her, streaming down the deep canyon between her breasts, over her flat stomach and full, rich thighs. She flipped off the hot and gasped at the tingling shock of the cold. In a moment, she turned off the water and toweled vigorously. The water seemed also to have rinsed her thoughts-how good to be twenty-four with an MA in education, a state teaching credential and a contract!
She straightened and caught her slender reflection in the full-length door mirror. She paused, hazel eyes appraising well-formed feet, tapering legs, the curve of hip and thighs, rounded breasts and then her face, oval and young, eager for-what?
Her eyes steadied. She wanted love, of course-real love, not the lust she had once seen when a man had seen her naked, like this. She had not found love in what had followed but she still wanted to feel a man's tenderness and need for her. She wanted his hands on her breasts and legs-and she wanted to be possessed.
She smiled. Perhaps she would find the man she wanted in this new life. He might be waiting even now at the end of her trip. The thought clouded over-what or whom would she find in a small industrial prairie town? She made an effort to snap out of her morning dreaming. She returned to her bedroom, moving briskly, efficiently now as a teacher should.
As she dressed, her eyes fell on an envelope in the open travel case. The fateful pages of her teaching contract were folded into it. Who had been that handsome, nice young man who had interviewed her-Judson Gray? Yes, that had been the name. April found herself wondering-was Judson Gray married?
Once more she snapped out of dreaming and swiftly completed dressing. She repacked her bag, carefully put on make-up. The moment she stepped out of her air-conditioned room, the day's moist heat wrapped around her. By the time she had placed the bag in her small hardtop, she felt she should go back and shower again.
An hour or so later, she saw the town sign. An arrow directed her off the expressway onto a nearly deserted two-lane highway. About a mile ahead, sunlight glinted on the windows of houses on the outskirts of town. On both sides of the highway corn stood high and green. She passed bare fields where wheat stood in shocks. The first houses of the town loomed beyond weathered billboards. April slowed her speed as the highway became a street.
She stopped for a traffic light, waited impatiently for it to change, wondering why the town needed one. She saw no traffic. Rolling on, she passed a long, low factory building, its front a solid procession of glass windows. The structure had an air of emptiness, of disuse. Its small parking lot, bounded by a meshed steel fence, was bare and bleak, its blackness broken only by white parking lines.
She drove through the main business section. None of the buildings were over three stories but they seemed to trap and concentrate the heat between them. People moved sluggishly along the walks or stood under awnings. Inertia permeated the town and April sensed its stillness was not wholly caused by hot weather. She sensed defeat in the air. She had not noticed anything of the kind in June when she had made several trips here for talks with the school board.
She threaded the business district and, a few blocks farther, pulled into the curb before the long, sprawling high school. The building looked deserted but the big main doors stood open. April cut the motor, worked at powder and lipstick, felt the powder instantly runnel with sweat. She smoothed her light cotton skirt, adjusting it snugly to waist and hips.
She mounted the steps and walked through the doors, hesitated a second, trying to remember where the school office had been. A few steps down the hall, a young man watched her. Light fell on his ruggedly handsome. face, broad shoulders and deep chest. She realized that, for all his size and build, he was young-perhaps nineteen-but there was an earthy male set to his jaw and chin, to the focus of his eyes on her legs.
More than her legs, she suddenly realized. Standing as she was with the wide doors open behind her, bright light must stream through the light cotton skirt like an X-ray, clearly outlining everything from knee to hips.
She walked past him, head and chin high, sensed that he turned to look after her. She found the school office a few doors down the corridor and entered. The few desks beyond the counter were empty and a door to an inner office stood open. A woman standing behind the counter looked up as April entered.
"I'm April Williams. I'm to teach here this year. I understand someone reserved an apartment for me in town and I could get the address here."
The older woman smiled. "Of course. Just a moment." She went to one of the desks, took papers from a tray, returned and handed April a slip. "See Mrs. Peg Mason at this address."
April accepted the paper. "It's kind of you to do this for me."
"We're glad to. When we manage to get a good new teacher, we try to make things smooth as we can."
April glanced at the paper. "How do I find this place?"
"Oh, that's right. You wouldn't know." The woman looked beyond April, blinked with surprise. "Bill Collins, what are you doing here?"
April turned and saw the young man she had just passed in the hall. He must have followed her. Her eyes widened but the boy ignored her now. He smiled at the woman behind the counter.
"Just looking around, Miss Evards."
"In August?"
"Just two weeks to school's start, ma'am. I'm sort of getting used to it again." His eyes flicked to April, away. "And finding out what's new."
Miss Evards sniffed. "Well, you're here. Can you show Miss Williams to-"
April cut in. "I'm sure I can find it."
"Nonsense, Miss Williams. He can take you there in no time. Oh, this is Bill Collins, one of our seniors. Bill, Miss Williams is a new teacher."
Bill acknowledged the introduction politely but his eyes were mocking. April tried to protest again.
Mrs. Evards brushed her words aside. "No point in anyone getting lost in this awful heat."
"Well-all right. And thank you again."
"Not at all. If you'll phone or drop in tomorrow, I'll give you the staff meetings and school opening dates. Oh, and the Pep Day ceremonies, too. Bill, take care of Miss Williams."
"Yes, ma'am!" He stepped aside as April turned.
Outside, she indicated her car at the curb. Bill Collins nodded and walked beside her, politely opened the driver's door. She slid under the wheel, her skirt briefly hitching above her knees. She hastily pulled it down but caught the swift glance in his eyes. It was gone in a moment.
He circled the car. As he opened the door on the far side, April said crisply, "There's really no need for you to do this. I'm sure I can find the place."
He grinned. "No sweat, ma'am. When Miss Evards gives me a job I do it, no matter what. Nice lady-but she can be tough when she wants to." He dropped into the seat beside her, closed the door. "Straight ahead about eight blocks and then turn left."
She pulled away from the curb. Bill Collins eased back in the seat but did not slouch. A silence grew between them but now and then April caught his glance at her face, her legs, the curve of her breasts. His unspoken appraisal seemed to her louder than words and subtly she was pleased. Her own reaction bothered her. Why should she more than notice a high school senior?
The heat increased her restlessness. She had to relieve inner annoyance and pressure with talk.
"Have you worked this summer?"
"There's nothing to do here."
"Really? The town looks large enough to have all sorts of jobs."
"Big? Sure. But no jobs. People are just waiting, that's all. There's no work in town-for anyone."
She was honestly surprised. "That sounds awful. What happened?"
"Oh, lots of things. Things got tough when a big missile and plane project was cut off by the government last May-just before school let out. That closed our factory tight, until some new deal comes along. Then there's the expressway. Completed a year ago." He pointed ahead. "Next street. Turn left."
She nodded. "But I'd think the expressway would be a boost."
He gave a dry chuckle. "To get here, you have to get off the expressway. Most people have no reason to stop-or even see the place. Used to be, people had to drive right through town. Now they don't even notice it. We've lost all the travel and tourist trade." She made the turn and he said, "Four blocks up."
The street where April was going to live was definitely residential. Great trees lined both sides of the quiet way, branches arching and meeting over the pavement. Big houses sat well back on wide lawns, April immediately felt the charm of the street.
Bill Collins asked abruptly, "What'll you teach?"
"Chemistry-science in general."
"General-that's freshman stuff. I took it four years ago-no, almost five."
"Five? Did you flunk?"
He grinned. "Quit. There was work then. Came back last year. Chemistry, huh? I guess I'll be in your class."
"That's nice." She felt doubtful.
He pointed to a gleaming white house ahead and to the right. "That's the place."
April pulled to the curb, looked across the wide lawn to the house. It was old but glittered with new paint, the dazzling white broken by green shutters, a deep high porch that ran the full front of the structure. Sunlight, broken by oak trees, dappled the lawn. There was an air of comfort and spaciousness about the place that April instantly liked.
Bill uncoiled his legs. "Got luggage?"
"In the trunk."
He held out his hand for the keys and she gave them to him. He quickly slipped out and went to the back of the car. By the time she had alighted, he had the travel case, overnight bag and briefcase in hands or tucked under his arms. He gestured with his head toward the house and April went up the walk ahead of him.
As she mounted the steps to the porch, the screen door opened. A woman came out. She was blond, about five years older than April, with a voluptuous figure literally poured into turquoise capri pants and sheer blouse, through which the straining brassiere clearly showed.
"You'd be Miss Williams? Welcome. I'm Peg Mason. You're a pleasant surprise."
"Why, thank you."
Peg looked beyond April and her ripe lips moved in a crooked smile. "Show's over, Bill. Put the luggage here on the porch. We'll take care of it."
Bill placed the luggage at the top of the steps, grinning. He turned to April. "How about the dresses and stuff in the back seat of the car?"
"That's all, Bill," Peg said flatly.
Bill surrendered with a shrug. "Okay. Just helping. See you around, Miss Williams."
"Thanks, Bill. Are you sure I can't drive you back to the school?"
He hesitated and Peg cut in. "Bill needs the exercise and you need a shower."
Bill grinned again and, with a careless wave of his hand, walked to the street. He glanced back over his shoulder, then strolled on. Peg Mason watched him a moment and then turned to April.
"Bill's the high school Casanova-the teen stallion." April's eyes grew round. Peg boldly looked her over. "And you have just the looks and figure to give him ideas."
April flushed and bent to the luggage to cover her confusion. There was something disconcerting about Peg Mason.
Peg swept up the travel case, walked ahead of April to the door and held it for her. Again her eyes swept over April as she walked into the comparatively dark and cool spacious hallway. Suddenly April knew what had bothered her but she instantly rejected it as impossible. Yet, as she turned to the wide stairs Peg indicated, she could not be sure the thought was as fantastic as it seemed.
Peg's eyes had held that same appreciative gleam that April had seen in Bill's. Both boy and woman had mentally undressed her.