Sallie almost took pity on her husband at that moment, but she forced herself to look him in the eye. "I can see why you need to talk about it," she said, "but I don't wish to do so. It's over, it's done with, and I don't ever, ever want to discuss it again. Remember one thing, Philip, and then it's a dead issue. I said no. I said no more than once. You forced yourself on me. I begged you to stop. No means no."

"All right, Sallie. Will you be staying on for the hohdays, then? Would you please clarify what my duties are in regard to Ash? He recognizes me, depends on me. He might fuss if I... if I stay away from him."

Salhe stared at her husband. In her life she'd never seen a more miserable-looking man. "Why is it, Philip, that you don't listen to me? Maybe you do listen, but you don't hear^hdX I say. It's not good for you to hold Ash all day long in the rocking chair. When he's being fed, yes. You don't need to sleep in the same room. He needs to exercise his lungs. He whimpers and you're there. Let him squall once in a while. Let him be the baby he is. Yes, I'll be staying for the holidays. All of us will leave for town the first of the year."

"It's just that he's my son."

Sallie's expression froze into place. In a cold, cUpped voice she said, "I'm very tired and I want to sleep now. I'll see you at the supper table."

Sallie's last conscious thought before drifting into a troubled sleep was that she was being cruel and heartless to her husband by denying him his twenty-four-hour devotion to their son.

1926.

Nine months later, on September 20, 1926, Sallie Coleman Thornton gave birth to a second son named Simon Wilcox Thornton, eight pounds four ounces and twenty-one inches long. The doctor, not 100 Fern Michaels known for his patience with mothers who didn't wish to nurse, slapped the squalling infant onto Sallie's stomach while he took care of the afterbirth. "Aren't you going to clean him up?" she demanded.

"Aren't you going to feed him?" the doctor shot back.

'*Vhere's die botde?"

"Under your chin. Nurse him. Now!"

"I will not," SaUie said.

"Then I guess he's going to starve."

In the wink of an eye, and from long years of experience, the doctor had the infant washed and wrapped in a clean blanket. He placed the child in SaUie's arms and repeated his admonition to suckle the crying baby. SaUie had no other choice but to bring out her breast to the infant, who started to suck immediately. A feeling unlike anything she'd ever experienced settled over Sallie. A smile that rivaled the sun spread across her face. In a world of her own for the moment, she neither saw nor heard the doctor leave.

SaUie bonded with yoimg Simon in a way she'd never bonded with Ash. It paved the way for the rivalry that would divide the brothers in the years to come.

That same rivalry pitted mother against father.

1942.

Two days after Simon's sixteenth birthday, SaUie stood at the grave site with her husband and two teenage sons, her head bowed in prayer. Alvin Waring had died peaceftiUy in his sleep at the age of ninety-one. She raised her eyes to see virtuaUy everyone in town. Her mind drifted as the minister extoUed the attorney's virtues. Where had the last nineteen years gone? How was it possible that it was 1942 and the country was at war? Her legs started to tremble as she thought about young .Ash's words the day before. "I want to enlist." She'd looked at Philip, whose face drained of aU color. She had almost fainted when Simon repeated his brother's words. PhUip had simply said, in a shaky voice, "You're too young, I won't hear of it. Your mother and I wiU not agree to this. If you get caUed up, that's one thing, enlisting is something else. I don't want to hear another word on the subject." Ash's young, handsome face had turned angry and sullen. It was the first time his father had denied him anything.

Sallie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She could sense her son's anger as he stood next to her. She was certain Ash would not let the matter drop. Nor would Simon. A comforting hand to her shoulder jerked her to the present. She turned, fully expecting to see Phihp's hand, but it was Simon's. She should have known it would be her younger son. From the day of his birth he'd been in tune with her emotions, and she with his.

"Don't cry, Mom. It was Mr. Waring's time, and he died in his sleep. Remember the good things."

"That's easy, Simon, because there were no bad things," Sallie whispered. "Simon, I need to talk with you."

"I know you do, but, Mom, this isn't the place."

"There is no right place to discuss what needs to be discussed. I want your promise, Simon, right now, that you aren't going to do anything foohsh. Please, Simon, promise me."

The sixteen-year-old boy, at six feet two inches in height and weighing 180 pounds, flashed his gentle smile and squeezed his mother's shoulder. "I promise I will not do anything /consider foolish."

"You look like you're twenty-five years old," Sallie said manely.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't a compliment, Simon. Ash looks older, too. If those recruiters get a look at either one of you, they'll snap you up in a heartbeat. I know how it works. Simon, who is that man standing at the head of the line of mourners, do you know?"

"That's Devin Rollins. He's taking over Mr. Waring's practice. I guess he's going to be your new attorney. I heard Pop discussing him with someone from school. After the service maybe you should introduce yourself"

"I'll do no such thing. He's on my payroll, let him come to me. Move, Simon, it's time to say good-bye." Tears rolled down her cheeks. A hankie appeared like magic in her hand. Simon again.

"Don't blow till you pass the coffin. You're a honker. Mom." He squeezed her arm reassuringly.

Standing next to the coffm, with the single yellow rose in her hand, SaUie swallowed hard. She took a full minute, a prayer on her lips, her eyes wet with tears. She felt two strong arms steady her and knew immediately that they didn't belong to her sons or husband. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out.

102 Fern Michaels "Don't be. Sorry, I mean. This is an emotional time for you, for everyone here. It's all right to cry, to falter. I'm just glad I was here to catch you. Devin Rollins, Mrs. Thornton. I'm Alvin's nephew. I'll be taking over his practice. When the time is right, I'll make an appointment with you to discuss your affairs. Are you steady now?"

"Yes. Thank you." Sallie removed her hat and mourning veil. She saw everything about Devin Rollins in one quick glance. He was incredibly tall, taller than her sons, athletic. He was impeccably dressed right down to the shine on his shoes. His dark hair held a hint of a curl and drooped over his forehead to shade his dove gray eyes. She saw the sinfully long eyelashes, the sharp-chiseled features, the warm smile. In the time it took her heart to beat once, Sal-lie Thornton fell in love. This man is my destiny, she thought wildly. Her heart thundering in her chest, Sallie allowed her son to lead her from the grave site. She wanted to turn for a second look at her destiny, but Simon's grasp on her arm was so tight she couldn't afford to take a wrong step, or she would have landed facedown.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the luncheon, Sallie?" Philip asked.

"I'm sure. I don't have the fortitude to make small talk and discuss Alvin's life with his friends. If that seems callous to you, Philip, I'm sorry. Feel free to go if you want to."

"Ash?"

"Sure, Pop. I liked Mr. Waring."

"Simon?"

"I'll stay with Mom."

"It would be nice, Simon, to show your respect for one of your elders," Philip said. "Mr. Waring has served this family for many years."

"I paid my respects here at the cemetery, Pop. I don't need to do it twice. I'll stay with Mom."

Ash scowled at his brother. He was about to offer a blistering sermon of some kind when he saw the look of distaste on his mother's face. Over the years he'd seen that look many times when he aligned himself with his father. Ash wondered then, as he'd wondered more times than he could remember, if the hatred he felt for his brother showed on his own face. He tried to compose his features, but knew he was too late. His mother had seen the way he felt.

Simon, Simon, Simon. It was always Simon where his mother was concerned. Simon could do no wrong. Simon was the smart one; Simon was the good-looking one; Simon was the one who was going to be in college at the age of sixteen because his brain power was superior. Simon understood the stock market, counseled and advised his mother on a daily basis. Simon knew the family net worth, while he and his father could only guess. Simon had his own car because he'd graduated ahead of schedule. Simon had everything a person could want. Except a father who adored him. Ash smiled smugly. As early as five years of age he'd realized he had a lock on his father's affections, and over the years he made sure that lock stayed in place.

He stood apart, watching his mother and brother walk away. For some strange reason he wanted to cry. Why couldn't she love him the way she loved Simon? He struggled to maintain good grades, struggled to be the best on the football field, struggled to be the most popular, the most sought-after guy in school. Hell, he had his own private airplane. What no one knew, not even his friends, was he used his allowance and any other monies he could filch from his mother's purse or his father's billfold to pay for private tutors and coaches. He was popular with the guys and the girls because he treated constandy and bought litde gifts that he presented with offhand generosity. He knew for a fact that the school yearbook was going to have a picture of him in the center of the book whose caption read: "Most popular, most likely to succeed, student of the year." His father was going to be proud. His mother would probably do litde more than glance and smile. She might say something like, "I hope it comes to pass. Ash." What that meant was she was doubtful he could make the grade.

That was all going to change real soon. On Monday he was enlisting in the service. He didn't know which branch yet, whichever one believed he was older than he was, he supposed. He'd show them all.

By God, he'd show up Simon if it was the last thing he did.

The simple clapboard town house was now an edifice that defied description. Sallie had had it done and redone during the Depression years simply to give her construction crews work so they could feed their famihes. She'd also built four more bingo palaces, a movie theater, a pharmacy, a bakery, and a grocery store that stocked every staple known to man. Her refrigeration system allowed for fresh milk, produce, meats, and cheeses. She'd met with the town council, which approved her plans to clean up the less desirable 104 Fern Michaels neighborhoods, not with cans of paint and whitewash, but with new building materials. Her biggest challenge was installing a sewage treatment plant. WTien the engineers told her the total cost she'd gulped hard, then signed her name to the contract. The day she'd told Philip she owned the sewer system he'd laughed in her face and told her only a fool would do such a thing. He wasn't interested in hearing about the revenues she would receive as each new business tied into her lines.

"Lx)ok at it this way, Philip, no one in this town can flush unless they pay me," she'd said smugly. "What was it you used to tell me? Oh, yes, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Do you remember saying that, Phihp? I know you resent me and all the things I've done for this towTi. I also know, because I overheard you telling Ash, that I'm the acquisitions queen of Nevada. You benefit ever)' single day from my generosity. I have never once said anything derogatory to our sons where you're concerned. You see, I believed you when you said a person should never speak unkindly about another person. Yes, I own this town. What's wrong with that? I don't overcharge, I give more than I take in. I help when it's -eeded, and if they can't pay me back, that's okay, too."

"My wife, Mrs. Nevada," Philip had said.

"The newspaper gave me that tide, Philip. You're still angry about Black Mountain, aren't you? I didn't cheat Snowball. I was more than fair. So the government paid me miUions of dollars for the land. So what? Boulder Dam will be here long after you, me, our sons, and their sons pass on. It was needed. I suppose I could have insisted they call it the SaUie Coleman Thornton Dam. You hate it when I include my maiden name, I can tell. Guess what, Philip, I don't care. I don't care about a lot of things anymore. I think we should get a divorce. This marriage is a sham and we both know it. The boys know it, too. They're old enough now to understand divorce. Our lives are empty. When do I get to be happy?"

Philip Thornton stared at his wife, the color leaving his face at Jie mention of the word divorce. He shrugged and walked away.

That was a year ago and nothing had changed.

"Simon, I think I'm going to get some things together and drive up to Sunrise. You're welcome to come along if you like." "I have plans, Mom. I can cancel them if you need me."

"Simon, how upset would you be if I told you I was .. . that I've been thinking about a-"

"A divorce? Mom, I can read you like a book. I guess I'd say, what took you so long? Don't do it because of me, though. I came to terms with Pop's fevoritism a long time ago. I don't cry myself to sleep anymore, and I still include him in my prayers."

"Simon-"

"Mom, it's okay."

"Ash ..."

"Ash is Ash. He does what he has to do. Sure I'd like it if we were close, but we aren't. It's never going to happen. Mom. Not in this lifetime. I don't want you worrying about me. Promise me."

"How'd you get so smart at your age?" SaUie teased.

"By hanging around you. You're the best. Someday Ash and Pop will say it out loud. They know it now, but heck, you're a woman and they're men.. . . Men have a hard time saying things like that."

'Tou said diem."

"I learned from you, Mom. Ash learned from Pop."

"Thank you, Simon. Are you and Jerry going flying?"

'*Nope. He's afi^d to go up with me. And, I didn't ask Pop or Ash if I could use the plane."

"You don't have to ask them, Simon. The plane belongs to the femily, not to your father or to Ash."

"It doesn't matter, Mom. When I fly I like to fly alone. It's so peacefiil up there."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day when I owned an airplane. It just amazes me that both you and Ash can Jictually fly. You're only sixteen, Simon. I am so proud of you."

A veil dropped over Simon's eyes. "Age is only a number. Mom. Everyone who meets me for the first time thinks I'm much older."

Sallie winced. "I'll leave a note for your father. I'll probably be back in the middle of the week."

"Say hello to the gang for me."

Sallie chuckled. "I'll do that. C'mere and give me a hug."

Sallie looked back once as she climbed the steps leading into the house. Simon was up to something, she could feel it in her bones, or maybe it was her motherly instincts working overtime.

Inside, Sedlie packed her bag and changed her clothes before she scribbled off'a short note: Gone to Sunrise.

The moment Sallie's car was out of sight, Simon ran to his mother's room to retrieve the note. He crushed it into a baU and 106 Fern Michaels stuck it in his pants pocket, then printed off a new note that said, Simon and I went to Sunrise. Be back next week. He scrawled a big S the way he'd seen his mother do. He knew neither his father nor his brother would give the note a second glance. He carried it down to the dining room, where he left it on the table in full view.

Upstairs in his room, he reached into the closet for his suitcase, opened it to take out the letter he'd written to his mother. His next stop was her room, where he placed the letter under her pillow.

Five minutes later he was in his car. He beeped the horn at his friend Jerry's house, two zippy sounds that made him grin. Jerry loped down the walkway to the car. "Is everything aU set?" Simon asked.

"It's done. I don't mind telling you this is making me real nervous. What are my parents going to say when I show up with this fancy car?"

"Jerry, we worked this all out. Your family thinks you are going to Sunrise with me. They aren't going to caU or come looking for you. I taught you to drive, so you won't have any problems on that score. We're driving to California where your twenty-three-year-old cousin, for the sum of $500, has agreed to give me his birth certificate and his college degree so I can enlist. This cousin has sworn to both of us to keep his mouth shut even if he's bleeding to death. How'm I doing so far? And, you, my best friend in the whole world, are going to be the happy recipient of this automobile as payment for getting him to agree to the deal. I've taken care of everything. I explained all of it in a letter to my mother, so no one is going to come and take the car away. You are simply going to tell your parents I gave it to you to take care of till I get back. Foolproof Did I leave anything out, Jerry?"

"Yeah, you left a lot out. What if you get yourself killed? Then what?"

"Then nothing. It's over. I'm not going to get killed. I promise. I don't want to go to college, at least not now. I can't live in that house one more day with Ash and my father. I'm sick and tired of pretending to my mother that things are fine when they aren't. Jesus, I have to force myself to eat when we're all at the table. Why in hell do you think I invite myself to your house so much?"

"I thought you came over because you liked us."

"Yeah, that too, and I also like your mother's cooking. She makes the best pot roast in the world. Your leftovers are real. . . zesty."

"Zesty? I'll tell my mother you said that." Jerry guffawed. "You gonna write?"

"Every chance I get. Swear on your mother you won't share my letters with anyone?"

"C'mon, who am I gonna share them with?"

"You might get a girlfriend who has a big mouth like you do. Swear, Jerry?"

"Okay, I swear. What if they find out you're only sixteen?"

"If you and that cousin of yours keep your mouths shut, no one will find out. If he squeals, I'll hunt him down and cut off his balls."

"He won't tell. Don't you think you should be referring to my cousin by name so you can be familiar with it?"

Simon roared with laughter. "I keep forgetting what his name is. Tell me again."

"His name is Adam Jessup. He has brown eyes and brown curly hair, a little darker than yours. His hair almost looks black. He's nowhere near as muscular as you are, but he's six feet tall. Nobody's going to notice those extra two inches you have. He's not a sharp dresser, most of the time he looks like a bum. My mother says he's shiftless. My father says he's no damn good. Hey, Simon, maybe you can make a hero out of him. Now, wouldn't that be something? Wonder what he'U do with that $500."

"I've been wondering that myself Take this envelope, it has another $500 in it. Use it on him if he starts making noises like he's going to blab. Now let's talk about girls. I'm going to go to those canteens. I bet I meet a lot of older women."

"Don't go knocking any of them up," Jerry said.

They laughed all the way to California.

'Tour mother isn't going to like it that I let you drink all that wine," Philip said.

"Then let's not tell her. I'll go straight upstairs and stay there for a while. I'm going to pass on dinner. I ate too much as it is."

"The house is quiet. Simon is usually blaring his radio at this time of day. What's this?" PhiHp said, reaching for the folded note on the dining room table. "Don't bother running upstairs. Your mother and Simon went to Sunrise. They'll be back next week. Guess us bachelors are on our own. What should we do?"

"Don't know about you, Pop, but I have a date." At the look on 108 Fern Michaels his father's face, he said, "I can cancel it. After all, how often do us guys get a chance to be bachelors on the loose?"

A devil perched itself on PhiHp's shoulder as he ripped the note into shreds. "How would you like to take a chaperoned trip to Red Ruby's?"