back to bed and made love again. With their mouths glued together and their bodies joined, they couldn't talk, but talking was something neither of them wanted to do much of. They slept restlessly, waking in
the wee hours to find that they still hadn't gotten enough of each other.
"How many times was that?" Dallie groaned after they were finished.
She nuzzled closer under his chin. "Uh-four, I think."
He kissed the top of her head and muttered, "Francie, I don't think this fire burning between us is going
to be as easy to put out as we figured."
It was past eight the next morning before either of them stirred. Francesca stretched lazily and Dallie pulled her close for a cuddle. They were just beginning to fool around a little when they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Dallie cussed under his breath. Francesca jerked her head toward the door and then watched in alarm as the knob began to turn. An ugly vision flashed through her mind of an army of Dallie's old girlfriends stalking in, each with a house key dangling from her fingers. "Oh, God…" She couldn't help it. She slid down beneath the covers and pulled the sheet over her head. At that exact moment, she heard the door open.
Dallie sounded mildly exasperated. "For Pete's sake, couldn't you even knock?"
"I was afraid I'd spill my coffee. I hope that's Francie under there or I'm going to be embarrassed."
"As a matter of fact, it's not Francie," Dallie said. "And you should be embarrassed."
The mattress sagged as Holly Grace settled down on the side of the bed, her hips brushing against Francesca's calves. The faint fragrance of coffee penetrated the sheet.
"The least you could do was bring me a cup, too," Dallie complained.
Holly Grace apologized. "I wasn't thinking; I've got a lot on my mind. You were kidding, weren't you, about that not being Francie under there?"
Dallie patted Francesca's hip through the covers. "You stay right there, Rosalita honey. This crazy person'll be gone in a few minutes."
Holly Grace tugged on the top of the sheet. "Francie, I need to talk to both of you."
Francesca clutched the sheet tighter and muttered something in Spanish about turning left at the corner
to get to the post office. Dallie chuckled.
"Come on, Francie, I know it's you," Holly Grace said. "Your underwear's all over the floor-what there is of it."
Francesca saw no graceful way out. With as much dignity as possible, she lowered the sheet to her chin and glared at Holly Grace, who sat on the edge of the bed wearing old jeans and a Cowboys sweat shirt. "What do you want?" she demanded. "For three days you've refused to talk to me. Why did you have to pick this morning to get chatty?"
"I needed some time to think."
"Couldn't you have chosen a more appropriate place to meet?" Francesca asked. Next to her, Dallie leaned up against the headboard, sipping Holly Grace's coffee and looking as relaxed as ever. As the only person lying down, Francesca suddenly realized she had put herself at a disadvantage. Anchoring the sheet under her arms, she swallowed her embarrassment and pushed herself up until she was sitting, too.
"Want a sip?" Dallie asked, holding out the coffee mug.
She pushed her hair out of her face and thanked him with exaggerated politeness, determined to out-casual them both. As she took the mug, Holly Grace stood and walked toward the window, her
hands jumping from her front pockets to her rear pockets. Watching the gesture, Francesca realized that her friend was a lot more nervous than she pretended. As she looked more closely, she saw telltale signs of tension in the set of Holly Grace's shoulders.
Holly Grace played with the edge of the drapery. "See, the thing of it is-this situation that's happened between the two of you has sort of gotten in the way of some plans I made."
"What situation?" Francesca inquired defensively.
"What plans?" Dallie asked.
Holly Grace turned. "Francie, you've got to understand that none of this has anything to do with disapproval. I've been telling you for years that you missed out on one of life's great opportunities by not spending more time in bed with Dallas Beaudine."
"Holly Grace!" Francesca protested.
"Thanks, honey," Dallie said.
Francesca realized they were starting to get the best of her again, and she took a slow, calming sip of coffee. Holly Grace wandered to the foot of the bed and gazed at her ex-husband. "Dallie, my biological clock is about to hit midnight. I kept thinking that sooner or iater I'd find somebody I wanted to marry. For a while I even hoped Gerry and I- Anyway, I planned to settle down and let the 'China Colt' producers shoot me from the chest up every few seasons while I had a couple of babies. But lately I've realized that's a fantasy and the thing of it is… I've got an ache inside me." She walked around to Francesca's side of the bed, hugging herself as if she were cold.
Francesca saw the sadness in her friend's beautiful, proud features, and she could guess what it had cost Holly Grace to be so open about her need for a child. She passed the coffee mug off to Dallie and patted the bed beside her. "Sit down, Holly Grace, and tell me what's wrong."
Holly Grace sat, her blue eyes locking with Francesca's green ones. "You know how much I want to
have a baby, Francie, and I guess everything that's happened with Teddy has made me think about it even more. I'm tired of only being able to love other people's kids; I want my own. Dallie's been telling me for years not to wrap all my happiness up in a dollar bill, and I guess I've finally realized that he's right."
Francesca reached out and touched her arm sympathetically. She wished Gerry hadn't flown home yesterday, although after three days of trying unsuccessfully to get Holly Grace to talk to him, she didn't blame him. "When you get back to New York, you and Gerry need to get together. I know you love
him, and he loves you, and-"
"Forget about Gerry!" she retorted. "He's Peter Pan. He won't ever grow up. Gerry's made it perfectly clear that he wants to marry me. But he's also made it clear that he won't give me any children."
"You never told me anything about that," Dallie said, obviously surprised at this revelation.
"You and Gerry have to start being open with each other," Francesca insisted.
"I won't beg." Holly Grace straightened, trying to keep her dignity. "I'm financially independent, I'm at least semi-mature, and I don't see any reason in the world why I have to shackle myself in marriage just to have a child. Only I need your help."
"I'll do anything I can, you know that. After the way you helped me when-"
"Will you lend me Dallie?" Holly Grace asked abruptly.
Dallie shot up in bed. "Now, wait a minute here!"
"Dallie's not mine to lend," Francesca replied slowly.
Holly Grace ignored Dallie's indignation. Without taking her eyes off Francesca, she said, "I know there are dozens of men I could ask, but it's not in my nature to have just anybody's baby. I love Dallie, and we still have Danny between us. Right now he's the only man I trust." She looked at Francesca with gentle reprimand. "He knows I wouldn't try to cut him out like you did. I understand how important family is to him, and the baby would be his just as much as mine."
"This is between the two of you," Francesca said firmly.
Holly Grace looked back and forth between Francesca and Dallie. "I don't think so." She turned her attention to Dallie. "I realize it would be a little creepy getting back into bed with you after all this time-sort of like sleeping with my brother. But I figure if I had a few drinks and made up a fantasy about me and Tom Cruise…"
Her weak attempt at humor fell flat. Dallie looked as if she'd just punched him in the stomach. "That
does it!" He reached down and snatched up a towel that was lying on the carpet next to the bed.
Holly Grace looked pleadingly at him. "I know you have something to say about all this, but just for
a few minutes, do you think you could let Francie and me talk?"