stayed for more than a week. Most never made it through the first day. Melissa’s unruliness drove her stepmother crazy and afforded young Melissa the only source of satisfaction she knew. Sable Lorel Carnes would have gladly sent her ugly stepdaughter to an institution and never given her a second thought, but William Carnes had just enough guilt to grant his daughter her wish to stay home.
Melissa was almost ten when Sable hired Deanna. Deanna was newly graduated from college with a degree in education, and she was a nice change of pace from the dour matrons Sable usually chose. She was full of the enthusiasm of a new teacher bursting with fresh ideas. No one had bothered to tell Deanna that Melissa had the manners of a wild animal. Nor had anyone told Deanna she had the right to refuse the job.
Melissa still remembered the day they met. She’d sat huddled on the window seat in the room where her stepmother kept her hidden. Sable disappeared as soon as she’d shown Deanna the room, not wanting to be around when the fur started flying. Deanna hesitated as she entered the room. Her long blond hair, caught in a barrette at her nape, flowed like liquid gold over one shoulder. Her round face and rosy cheeks made her look more like sixteen than twenty-one. But her starched white shirt and conservative navy skirt branded her as the latest nanny, and Melissa was ready to do battle.
“Hi! I’m Deanna Randall,” she’d said in a gentle friendly voice. Melissa simply glared at her from across the room. When Deanna started moving in her direction, Melissa flung a wooden toy horse at her. Deanna ducked and kept on walking.
“Go away! I don’t need you,” Melissa screamed, putting her all into the performance.
“I thought we might be friends.” Deanna had stopped six feet away and lowered herself to Melissa’s eye level.
“I don’t wanna friend!” Her hostile stance dared the new nanny to argue.
“I’d like to teach you wonderful things.” The woman’s voice was silky smooth, inviting.
“Why should I learn?”
“Because learning is growing and growing is what living is all about.” Deanna had talked to her like a person instead of an animal to be ordered about, then shoved back in its cage.
“What good is that gonna do me? I’m gonna be stuck in this room for the rest of my life.”
“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Deanna smiled. Not a condescending smile, but one that accepted Melissa’s right to make her own decisions.
Melissa sprang from her seat. She stood, fists balled, directly in front of Deanna.
“Look at my face! See how ugly it is?” She turned her head and offered Deanna an unobstructed view of the mangled left half of her face. Deanna reached out and touched the still-tender burn scars.
“I can see inside you, and I see a beautiful soul.”
Melissa had been stunned. No one had touched her so gently since the accident. Her looks had repulsed all of the previous nannies, and they hadn’t bothered to hide it. Deanna had touched her softly and told her she was beautiful. Melissa hadn’t known whether to hit her or to cry. So she’d done both. As her love-starved soul pounded the new nanny, Melissa had dissolved into tears. Deanna had gathered her in her arms and held her close. She’d sobbed as only a heartbroken child could.
They’d been friends ever since. Not that Melissa had made it easy for Deanna, but Deanna had thrived on the challenge and had made Melissa’s life alive with laughter, learning and love.
They’d been inseparable until Deanna married Sam Ziegler five years ago. Sam and Deanna had since had two beautiful children, and Melissa’s time with Deanna was reduced to one night a week and daily phone conversations. Melissa allowed herself to visit her two god-children only when Sam was absent.
Tonight Melissa was determined to push Tyler’s arrival on her doorstep last night and his presence in her dungeon out of her mind and concentrate on the movie Dee had brought. Ghost was Dee’s favorite and she’d brought along the required box of tissues.
Dee lay sprawled on the sitting room’s comfortable couch while Melissa sat cross-legged on the plush cream-colored carpet using the couch leg as a backrest. A bowl of popcorn was propped on several cranberry-and-forest-green throw pillows within easy reach of both women.
Patrick Swayze slid his hands provocatively over Demi Moore’s body while “Unchained Melody” played in the background. The actors’ eyes glowed as they savored each other’s bodies. And though Tyler looked nothing like Patrick, and she in no way resembled Demi, Melissa saw him there on the screen, touching her like that. Ridiculous, of course. Only Dee could stand the sight of her face. Only the horses could stand her touch.
“Is love really like that?” Melissa asked, eyes glued to the TV as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“Like what?” Deanna answered lazily, her attention also directed at the screen.
“Serious and strong and raw and, I don’t know, so intense.” What was real? What was movie magic?
“Sometimes.”
“Does it happen with all men or only when you’re with a special one?” She had nothing to go on to analyze the strange feelings Tyler stirred in her.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.” Melissa chewed on another handful of popcorn. “Do you realize I’ll be thirty next month and I’ve never even been kissed by a man?”
Dee sat up, reached for the remote control and switched the movie off. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Melissa?”
“Nothing.” Melissa picked up the bowl of popcorn and balanced it on her knees, refusing to look directly at Deanna. She concentrated on each kernel she picked, chewing it longer than necessary and swallowing it untasted. How could she explain lustful thoughts about a man who wanted to hurt her when she wasn’t even sure what lust was?
“Come on, Mel. I know you. I know something’s eating you.”
Melissa continued her ritualistic choosing of popcorn, thinking of the man under lock and key in her dungeon. Now that Tyler Blackwell was fit, though bruised, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with him. Dee was right, she should have shoved him out the portcullis at first light. But that would only have enhanced her witch image. And that, she’d decided as she’d watched him last night, was the last thing she needed.
Now, watching this movie of two people in love, she knew she wanted someone other than Dee and Grace to see her as a person—to see her as a woman. But how to achieve that when people tended to see only the scars?
“I’m just wondering about love between a man and a woman,” Melissa said finally, not knowing quite what she wanted Dee to tell her. “How does it come about? How do you know when you’ve got it? What does it feel like?” She put the bowl of popcorn aside and faced Dee. “Is it like in the movies?”
Deanna shook her head. “Oh, boy, I don’t know how to answer that. Why this sudden urge to find out?”
Melissa shrugged, then stood and walked to the window. Nothing but blackness in all its shades. After Dee left, she would go for a ride and gallop away all these crazy sensations sliding through her.
“Because I feel empty inside. I want a husband and children. A normal life—like yours. And I know I can never have that. I guess I’m going through an early mid-life crisis.” She laughed halfheartedly, then turned to stare once more at the darkness. “How long does it take to get pregnant?”
“What!”
“Well?”
Deanna flushed. “We covered that in basic biology.”
“Would one time be enough?”
“Are you considering artificial insemination?”
Then something seemed to click in Deanna’s mind. She gasped and spilled the bowl of popcorn