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beginning to understand that it wasn't strictly a physical problem. Not the way
his body had reacted to Arabella earlier.
Miriam saw his smug expression and shifted uncomfortably.
"Thinking long thoughts, darling?" she taunted with a cold smile. "Or are you
just reminiscing about the way we used to be together?"
Ethan pursed his thin lips and studied her. The anguish he felt from her taunts
was suddenly gone. He knew now that the only failure was hers. She was
conceited and cold and cruel, a sexless woman who basically hated men and used
her beauty to punish them.
"I was thinking that you must have had a hell of a childhood," he replied.
Miriam went stark white. She dropped her fork and fumbled to pick it up again.
"What in the world made you say such a thing?" she faltered.
He went from contempt to pity in seconds. Everything suddenly became crystal
clear, and he understood her better now than he ever had before. Not that it
changed his feelings. He couldn't want her, or love her. But he hated her less.
"No reason," he replied, but not unkindly. "Eat your beef. To hell with what
they say about it, red meat's been sustaining human beings for hundreds of years
in this country."
"I do seem to have a rather large appetite these days," Miriam replied. She
glanced at Ethan suspiciously and then dropped her eyes.
Arabella had been watching the byplay with cold misery. Ethan was warming to
the older woman, she could feel it. So what did she do now? Should she play up to
him or not? She only wanted him to be happy. If that meant helping him get
Miriam back, then she supposed she could be strong enough to do it.
As if he sensed her regard, he turned his head and smiled at her. He laid his
hand on the table, inviting hers. After a second's hesitation, she slid her fingers
across the palm and had them warmly, softly enfolded. He brought them to his
mouth and kissed them hungrily, oblivious to his mother's shocked delight and
Miriam's bridled anger.
Arabella colored and caught her breath. There had been a breathless tenderness
in that caress, and the way he was looking at her made her body ripple with the
memory of that afternoon.
"Are we really going to sit through a nature special?" Miriam asked, breaking
into the tense silence.
Ethan lifted an eyebrow at her. "Why not? I like polar bears."
"Well, I don't," Miriam muttered. "I hate polar bears, in fact. I hate living out in
the country, I hate the sound of animals in the distance, I hate this house, and I
even hate you!"
"I thought you wanted to talk about a reconciliation," Ethan pointed out.
"How can I, when you've obviously been out in the fields making love with Miss
Concert Pianist!"
Arabella flushed, but Ethan just laughed. The sound was unfamiliar, especially
to Miriam.
"As it happens, it was in the truck, not in the fields," Ethan said with
outrageous honesty. "And engaged people do make love."
"Yes, I remember," Miriam said icily. She threw her napkin down and stood up.
"I think I'll lie down. I'll see you all in the morning. Good night."
She left, and Coreen sat back with a loud sigh. "Thank God! Now I can enjoy
what's left of my meal." She picked up a homemade roll and buttered it. "What's
this about making love in the pickup?" she asked Ethan with a grin.
"We need to keep Miriam guessing," he replied. He leaned back in his chair and
watched his mother. "You tell me what we were doing."
"Arabella's a virgin," Coreen pointed out, noting Arabella's discomfort.
"I know that," Ethan said gently and smiled in her direction. "That won't
change. Not even to run Miriam off."
"I didn't think it would." Coreen patted Arabella's hand. "Don't look so
embarrassed, dear. Sex is part of life. But you aren't the kind of woman Miriam is.
Your conscience would beat you to death. And to be perfectly blunt, so would
Ethan's. He's a puritan."
"I'm not alone," Ethan said imperturbably. "What would you call a twenty-two-
year-old virgin?"
"Sensible," Coreen replied. "It's dangerous to play around these days, and it's
stupid to give a man the benefits of marriage without making him assume re-
sponsibility for his pleasure. That isn't just old-fashioned morality, it's common
sense. I'm a dyed-inthe-wool women's libber, but I'll be damned if I'd give my
body to any man without love and commitment."
Ethan stood up calmly, and pushed his chair toward his mother. "Stand on
that," he invited. "If you're going to give a sermon, you need to be seen as well as
heard, shrimp."
Coreen drew back the hand holding the roll and Ethan chuckled. He bent and
picked his little mother up in his arms and kissed her resoundingly on the cheek.
"I love you," he said as he put her down again, flustered and breathless. "Don't
ever change."
"Ethan, you just exasperate me," she muttered.
He kissed her forehead. "That's mutual." He glanced at Arabella, whose eyes
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