Free Adversaries and Lovers by Patricia Watters Page B

look at Ben. “It’s hard for old people to hold onto memories if they’re taken away from familiar surroundings. But, of course, Grandma’s surrounded by all of her lifelong friends. They’re back and fourth between each other’s houses every day so she’s happy... for now.” She paused to let that sink in.
    He smiled. “Nice try.”
    She sat up straight, glared at him, and said in an agitated voice, “Is there nothing I can say or do to get through to you?”
    Eyes fixed on the road ahead, he replied, “Your grandmother shouldn’t stay trapped in the past. She needs to get on with her life.”
    “The past is her life," Kate said. "And living in a house she loves while surrounded by friends who care about her is hardly being trapped.” She looked out the side window and mumbled, “But, I don’t suppose you could possibly relate to that concept, being the logical, reasoning, unemotional man you are.”
    Ignoring her rebuke, Ben said, “After my grandmother died, my grandfather sold the old place, bought himself a little farm and started a small winery. He is getting on with his life, not living in the past.”
     Kate folded her arms, stared straight ahead, and said, “And I see that you’re just a chip off the old block. No attachments, no regrets, no... nothing.”
    For several miles neither spoke. Ben’s eyes remained fixed on the road, and Kate stared blankly out the side window. It wasn’t until they turned off the paved road, slowed to a crawl, and the jeep began to rock over the uneven road that Kate realized they were on the lane leading to Ben’s house, although they’d approached it from the opposite direction. The fact that they were at his place again made her edgy. She couldn’t shake images of their passionate kiss, or their intimate physical contact as they’d glided around the pool. Nor had she given him reason to believe his advances were unwanted. In fact, he had every reason to believe she was ready for an afternoon of rolling around with him on the futon. Unless she set things straight. “Let me guess," she said. "The spider has prepared his futon with plump little pillows for an afternoon of lovemaking, and his victim, naive little fly that she is, has willingly come with him to his parlor. Again." She glared at him. “You really are too much.”
    Ben covered her hand with his and gave it a little squeeze. “There you go, acting on emotion again, jumping to the wrong conclusion.”
    “Have I? I thought we were going to Cooper’s Landing?” Kate said, pulling her hand out from under his.
     “We are,” Ben said, bemused. “This is where we launch the boat.”
    Kate looked at him, miffed. “You came all the way from here pulling a boat, just to pick me up so we could come back here to launch it? That sounds a little specious.”
    “The boat needed some engine work. I’m just bringing her home. Satisfied?” As Ben said the words, they drove past his house and continued down the lane toward the river.
    Kate gave him a sheepish grin. “I am now.” After a few moments she commented, offhandedly, “The name, Misty Gayle... it sounds kind of sad, like tears. Did you come up with it, or was the boat already named?”
    When Ben didn’t reply, Kate looked at him and realized he’d lapsed into brooding silence, eyes staring off, and she wondered what had so completely captured his attention. One moment he’d been teasing, the next his face looked cheerless. And it happened when she'd asked about the Misty Gayle. He also hadn't answered her question, and from the look on his face, she suspected the subject would be closed, even if she pressed him for an answer.
    ...he spends his time at that place of his when he should be getting on with his life...
    Henry Stassen's words seemed to hover in her mind of late. Odd that he'd used the word hiding to describe Ben. And what should Ben be getting on with? His business was a success. He had property on the river and a beautiful