and I’m sure he wouldn’t let anything be damaged.”
“Come see for yourself!”
Dione checked her watch. “I think we should have lunch first. The patio isn’t going anywhere, but the food will be cold.”
“Stalling?” Blake inquired coldly. “I told you, Miss Kelley, that I don’t want this house changed.”
“I can neither deny nor confirm what changes have been made, because I haven’t been outside. I’ve been with you all morning. However, I trust Richard’s good sense, even if you don’t,” she said pointedly, and Serena flushed furiously.
“It isn’t that I don’t trust my husband,” she began heatedly, but Blake cut her off with a lifted hand.
“Not now,” he said shortly. “I want to see the patio.”
Serena fell into immediate silence, though she looked sulky. Evidently Blake was still very much the big brother, despite his obvious ill health. His voice carried the unmistakable ring of command. Blake Remington was accustomed to giving orders and having them carried out immediately; his morning with Dione must have gone completely against the grain.
It was the first time Dione had been on the patio, and she found it beautifully landscaped, cool and fragrant, despite the brutal Arizona sun. Yucca plants and different varieties of cactus grew in perfect harmony with plants normally found in a much more congenial climate. Careful watering explained the unusual variety of plants, that and the well-planned use of shade. White flagstones had been laid out to form a path, while a central fountain spewed its musical water upward in a perfect spray. At the back of the patio, where a tall gate opened onto the pool area, was a beautifully carved bench in a delicate pearl-gray color. Dione had no idea what type of wood it was, though it was gorgeous.
The patio was disorganized; evidently the workers Richard had hired had used the patio to store the pool furniture that was in the way, and also the materials that they didn’t need at the moment. However, she saw that they had been careful not to disturb any of the plants; everything was placed carefully on the flagstones. But Serena ran to the lovely bench and pointed out a long gouge on its side. “See!” she cried.
Blake’s eyes flashed. “Yes, I see. Well, Miss Kelley, it looks as if your workers have damaged a bench that I consider priceless. My father gave it to my mother when they moved into this house; she sat here every evening, and it’s here that I see her in my mind. I want this whole thing called off before something else is ruined, and I want you out of my house.”
Dione was distressed that the bench had been damaged, and she opened her mouth to apologize; then she saw the flash of triumph in Serena’s eyes and she paused. To give herself time to think, she walked to the bench and bent down to examine the scarred wood. Thoughtfully she ran a finger over the gouge; a quick glance at Serena caught a hint of apprehension in those amazingly expressive eyes. What was Serena worried about? Looking back at the bench, the answer became readily apparent: The bench was undoubtedly damaged, but the gouge was old enough to have weathered. It certainly hadn’t been done that morning.
She could have accused Serena of deliberately trying to cause trouble, but she didn’t. Serena was fighting for the brother she loved, and though her battle was useless, Dione couldn’t condemn her for it. She would just have to separate Serena from Blake so her work could continue without a constant stream of interruptions. Richard would have to bring that laser brain of his into use and keep his wife occupied.
“I can understand why you’re both upset,” she said mildly, “but this gouge wasn’t done tonight. See?” she asked, pointing at the wood. “It isn’t a fresh scar. I’d guess that this has been here for several weeks.”
Blake moved his wheelchair closer and leaned down to inspect the bench for himself. He straightened slowly. “You’re right,” he sighed. “In fact, I’m afraid I’m the culprit.”
Serena gasped. “What do you mean?”
“A few weeks ago I was out here and I bumped the wheelchair into the bench. You’ll notice that the gouge is the same height as the hub of my wheel.” He rubbed his eyes with a thin hand that trembled with strain. “God, I’m sorry, Serena.”
“Don’t blame yourself!” she cried, rushing to his side and clutching his hand. “It doesn’t matter; please don’t be upset. Come inside and let’s have lunch. I know you must be tired. It can’t do any good for you to tire yourself out like this. You need to rest.”
Dione watched as Serena walked beside the wheelchair, all concern and love. Shaking her head a little in amused exasperation, she followed them.
Serena remained close by Blake’s side for the rest of the day, fussing over him like a hen with one chick. Blake was tired after his first day of therapy, and he let her coddle him. Though Dione had planned to have another session of exercise and massage, she let it go rather than fight a battle to do it. Tomorrow…well, tomorrow would be another story.
Richard arrived for dinner, a practice that Alberta had told Dione was the usual whenever Serena came over, which was every day. He watched silently as Serena hovered anxiously over Blake, and though Richard had the original poker face, Dione sensed that he wasn’t happy with the situation. After dinner, while Serena got Blake settled in his study, Dione took the opportunity to speak privately to Richard.
They went out to the patio and sat on one of the benches that were scattered around. Dione looked up at the countless stars that were visible in the clear desert night. “I’m having a problem with Serena,” she said without preamble.
He sighed. “I know. I’ve had a problem with her since Blake had his accident. I understand how she feels, but it’s still driving me crazy.”
“He said something today about raising her.”
“Practically. Serena was thirteen when their mother died, and it was quite a shock to her. It was weeks before she could bear for Blake to be out of her sight; it must’ve seemed to her as if everyone she loved was dying. First her father, then her mother. She was especially close to her mother. I know that she’s terrified something will happen to Blake, but at the same time I can’t help resenting it.”
“‘Forsaking all others,’” Dione quoted, a little sadly.
“Exactly. I want my wife back.”
“Blake said that you don’t pay any attention to her, that you’re wrapped up in your work.”
He rubbed the back of his neck with restless fingers. “I have a lot of work to do, with Blake like he is. My God, what I wouldn’t give to go home to just a little of the tender loving care that she smothers Blake with every day!”
“I spoke to Alberta about having the locks on the doors changed, but the more I think about it, the more I think it isn’t such a good idea,” she confessed. “Blake would be furious if anyone locked his sister out of his house. The problem is, I can’t keep him on a schedule if she keeps interrupting.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said doubtfully. “But any suggestion that will keep her away from Blake will go over like an outbreak of plague.” He looked at her, and his teeth suddenly flashed white as he grinned. “You must have the steadiest nerves I’ve ever seen. Was it interesting today?”
“It had its moments,” she replied, laughing a little. “He threw his breakfast at me.”
Richard laughed aloud. “I wish I could’ve seen that! Blake’s always had a hot temper, but for the past year he’s been so depressed that you couldn’t make him angry if you tried all day. It would’ve been like old times if I had been here to see him.”
“I hope I can get him to the point where he doesn’t need to be angry,” she said. “I’m certain that he’ll progress more rapidly if we aren’t interrupted. I’m relying on you to think of something that’ll keep Serena occupied.”
“If I could, I’d have used it before now,” he