Free Shades of Twilight by Linda Howard Page B

Thanks.” She managed a weak smile, because she knew she must really look sick for Loyal to bend his rule about the horses, and she wanted to reassure him. She was sick, all right, sick at heart, and so full of impotent rage that she thought she might explode. She
hated
this, hated what she’d seen, hated Jessie for doing it, hated Webb for letting her love him and putting her in this situation.
    No, she thought as she hurried up to the house, stricken by the idea. She didn’t hate Webb, could never hate him. It would be better for her if she didn’t love him, but she could no more stop that than she could stop the sun from rising the next morning.
    No one saw her when she slipped in the front door. The huge hall was empty, though she could hear Tansy singing in the kitchen, and a television played in the den. Probably Uncle Harlan was watching one of the game shows he liked so much. Roanna moved silently up the stairs, not wanting to talk to anyone right now.
    Grandmother’s suite was at the front of the house, the first door on the right. Jessie and Webb’s suite was the front one on the left side. Over the years, Roanna had finally settled on one of the back bedrooms, away from everyone else, but to her dismay she saw that Aunt Gloria and Uncle Harlan had chosen the middle suite on the right side of the house, and the door was standing open, Grandmother’s and Aunt Gloria’s voices coming from within. Listening, Roanna could also make out the voice of the housekeeper,Bessie, as she worked to unpack their clothes. She didn’t want to see any of them, especially didn’t want to give Aunt Gloria the opportunity to start in on her, so she reversed her steps and went out the double French doors onto the upperstory gallery that completely encircled the house. Using the gallery, she went around the house in the opposite direction until she came to the French doors that opened into her own bedroom and gained sanctuary.
    She didn’t know how she could ever look at Jessie again without screaming at her and slapping her stupid, hateful face. Tears dripped down her cheeks, and angrily she dashed them away. Crying never had done any good; it hadn’t brought back Mama and Daddy, it hadn’t made anyone like her any better, it hadn’t kept Webb from marrying Jessie. For a long time now she had fought back her tears and pretended that things didn’t hurt her even when she felt as if she would choke on her hidden pain and humiliation.
    But it had been such a shock, seeing Jessie and that man actually doing it. She wasn’t stupid, she’d been to an R-rated movie a couple of times, but that really never showed anything except the woman’s boobs and everything was all prettied up, with dreamy music playing in the background. And once she’d glimpsed the horses doing it, but she hadn’t really been able to see anything because she’d sneaked out to the stables for that very purpose and hadn’t been able to find a good vantage point. The noises had scared her, though, and she’d never tried that again.
    Reality was nothing like the movies. It hadn’t been romantic at all. What she’d seen had been raw and brutal, and she wanted to blot it out of her memory.
    She took another shower, then collapsed across the bed, exhausted from her emotional upheaval. Perhaps she dozed; she wasn’t certain, but all of a sudden the room was darker as twilight gathered, and she realized she had missed supper. Another black mark against her, she thought, and sighed.
    She felt calmer now, almost numb. To her surprise she was even hungry. She pulled on some clean clothes andtrudged down the back stairs to the kitchen. Tansy had already cleaned up the dishes and gone home, but the industrial-size stainless-steel refrigerator would be full of leftovers.
    She was nibbling at a cold chicken leg and a roll, with a glass of tea at her elbow, when the kitchen door opened