“You young people are always quarreling. Now, me and my Beth, we never had a cross word from the time we met, and we’ve been married forty-three years. Soon as I set eyes on ’er, I knew she was for me. Your man seemed like a nice one,” the cabbie said. “What’s the problem? Think you two can work it out?”
Haley blew out a long breath. “The trouble with him is that he goes from tepid to hot to cold in a couple of minutes, and I like dependable personalities and stability in my life. Anyway, he isn’t my man.”
“From what you just said, I can tell he’s ’bout hooked. You listen to me, here. When a man acts like that, he’s interested—don’t want to be and fast losing the battle. You’ll see. Well, here ya are, little lady. That’s thirteen-eighty. Mark my word, you ain’t seen the last of that one.”
Haley leaned back in her desk chair and let her gaze sweep the autumn colors that beautified her office. She’d been in that rut ever since Nels’s party. Three weeks down the drain. If she didn’t get that proposal written, she could just forget about the health education program for reservation children. She swore vehemently. Why couldn’t she get Jon Ecklund out of her head? She couldn’t think of anything except the way she’d felt in his arms when he held her and danced with her. She’d felt his masculine strength, the force of his personality and his barely controlled passion. She knew he wanted her, and she also knew that something restrained him. She told herself that it was best to forget about him. Come hell or high water, she would.
The ring of the telephone invaded her thoughts. “Yes, Amy?” Amy had been her secretary since the doors of IISP first opened. The stunning fifty-year-old redheaded grandmother had a husband who had practically worshipped her for 28 years. She was fiercely loyal to Haley.
“Mr. Andersen. Can you take it?”
“Hello, Nels. What can I do for you?”
“Well, you can begin by being less officious. What in heaven’s name have you done to Jon? He came over yesterday, asking all kinds of questions about you. But he didn’t want any answers. I think he just wanted to get tanked, and believe me, he got tanked. And he didn’t even get high once when we were in college. I still can’t believe he did what I saw him do yesterday.”
“You were in college with him?”
“Yeah. We were roommates and best friends for four years as undergraduates and two years in graduate school. We both got degrees in journalism. Haley, Jon is about the finest man I have ever met. If I had a sister, I would do my best to make him my brother-in-law. He’s straight. And you’ve got him spinning. We’ve got to talk about this.”
“Nels, I’ll talk about anything you want after I finish this grant proposal. I am trying to get funding for a project to improve health education among reservation kids in the first through ninth grades.”
“Are we speaking every kid on every reservation?”
“No, I’m just going to try two or three pilot projects, just to demonstrate what can be done with a small investment.”
“Are you going to include the Comanche, since they’re your own people?”
“Nels, the Comanche do not live on a reservation, though most of us are settled out in Oklahoma.”
“Haley, I’m not about to go into the geography of the Native Americans right now. I want to talk to you about Jon.”
“Nels, give me a break. I don’t want to talk about Jon Ecklund. Period. That man is the reason why I’m struggling with this proposal and getting nowhere.”
“Why, what did he do?”
“Nothing” was the nettled response. She said goodbye and placed the phone in its cradle. It was enough to have to think about the man; she’d be damned if she was going to spend the afternoon talking about him. Besides, anybody with sense could see that Jon Ecklund was more than man enough to fight his own battles and win his own wars.
What I need, she thought, after a moment of reflection, is better information about the schools on these reservations. She punched the intercom button. “Amy, please tell Spencer that I want to see him now.”
“Right, Haley.”
“Spencer, I want a report on the national ranking of primary and secondary students attending school on these three reservations—students per teacher, average attendance and annual education expenditure per student. And I want it by ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t want much,” a chastened Spencer observed.
“No, I don’t. See you at ten o’clock in the morning.” As Spencer walked out, it occurred to her that she would probably fire him within the next six months. His arrogance was becoming intolerable.
Maybe she should make on-site visits to the schools, using Spencer’s report as preparatory material. Where was she going to get all of this time? Her mother might have some ideas. Haley telephoned her in Washington, and indeed she did. Gale Feldon had taken early retirement from her university post as professor of history, but retirement didn’t sit well with her. Haley wasn’t surprised when her mother offered to make the trip out to Oklahoma and undertake an on-site investigation. Unlike her daughter, Gale understood and spoke the language and had good contacts among her own people. That was all the entrée she would need to speak to the neighboring tribes. They agreed that she and Gale would leave Wednesday morning, carrying Spencer’s report and a consultant’s contract from IISP. Haley would visit schools of the other two tribes.
Haley was back in her office the following Monday morning with everything she needed for the proposal. Gale Feldon’s highly professional report awaited her. Now, she only had to put it together and polish it off. “Yes, Amy.”
“Mr. Ecklund. He’s called half a dozen times since you left on Wednesday. I left the notes on your desk.”
“Thanks, I’ll take the call. Hello, Jon.”
“Hello, Haley.” She had forgotten the beauty of his deep, velvet baritone. It warmed her all over. It soothed her, wrapped her up in warm contentment.
“Haley, would you have dinner with me tonight? I want to see you again. Something went wrong between us. Will you please let me clear it up?”
“Jon, I’m terribly busy. I’m sorry.”
“Just like that? But you will eat, won’t you? I know that I am responsible for the hostility that you must feel toward me, but—”
She interrupted him. It wasn’t exactly hostility that she felt toward him, but he had hurt her, and she didn’t want to expose herself to any more hurt from him.
“I do not feel hostile toward you. I told you. I’m busy. I have to finish a proposal.”
“All right. When will you have dinner with me?”
“If I agree to have dinner with you, are you sure you won’t change your mind, lose your appetite, get an urgent call to leave town or something?”
“I deserve that.”
“My, my, such humility. I have to get back to work now. Goodbye.” She hung up.
“Amy, come in and take a letter, please.” Amy’s pleasant smile disappeared abruptly as she walked into the office, and from her demeanor, Haley knew that Amy had detected her distress.
“This is to the Brayton-Rogers Foundation. The usual salutation. I am writing to request your support of educa…” She couldn’t stop the tremors in her voice. Horrified, Amy moved forward to comfort her, but embarrassed, Haley stepped away from the desk.
“Amy, please excuse me for a few minutes.”
“But, Haley—”
“I’ll be fine. Please, Amy.”
Amy left. Haley went into her private bathroom and calmed herself. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Jon, only to preserve her sanity. How must he feel? She had never hung up on anybody, not even people whom she disliked. Why had she reacted so harshly?
When she had regained composure, she acknowledged to herself that she should apologize to Jon. After looking through her personal address book, she dialed a number from it. Nels answered on the first ring.
“Haley here. Can you give me Jon’s telephone number?”
“Home or office?”
“Wherever he’s likely to be right now.”
He gave her both. “Haley, what is going on?”
She thought for a moment. “Nels, I really don’t know. Please be a friend, and don’t ask anything of me just now.”