It was early evening when Ma Manford and Harvey Wickersham had reluctantly gone for the day, both uncomfortable about leaving Blyth alone. Duke had been there but hurriedly cleaned the stalls, promising to return early the next morning. As always, he planned to spend all day Saturday with the horses. Now, there was a silence about the empty house which disturbed Blythe. Even Heathe had neglected to come out and check on things like he usually did whether Nate was in town or not.

Since early afternoon, Blythe had paced, unable to concentrate or keep her mind on any one project. Nate had been away two full nights now and not a word from him. No call, no hint of when he might deign to return or how she might get in touch with him and her resentment was increasing by the minute.

Absently, she flipped the knob on the television in the clubroom but impatiently stood, went to the bar and was about to fix a drink when the doorbell chimed loudly, reverberating in the stillness. Blythe set the unopened bottle on the bar and rushed to the door, part of her exuberant with the hope Nate would be waiting there on the veranda, the other part furious and ready to lash out at him if he were inconsiderate enough not to have a really good reason for his unacceptable behavior.

Her eyes full of the maelstrom of emotions that whirled inside her heart and head, Blythe threw open the door expectantly. Her face drained of all expression and her eyes went dead as Eddie Vega, uninvited, stepped pompously through the passageway and into the hall.

She had never been subjected to the unpleasant experience of being alone with this man she had such an intrinsic loathing for. She felt her skin grow clammy as she repressed an overwhelming urge to cover her nose and mouth with a trembling hand to stifle the fetid odor of booze and drugs, exuding from his sweaty pores. His breath, too, was rancid as he swung sharply round to face her, as if he were firing the first shot of their, before now, cold war.

"Where's Nathan?" he demanded with a smirk.

Pivoting away, she inhaled deeply of the cool clean breeze that buffeted its way through the open doorway before eyeing him critically. "Not here."

"No shit!" Eddie answered sarcastically, lifting a greasy jet brow. "Then where?"

Blythe pushed the door shut, letting it bang loudly, indicating her irritation. "I suppose he hasn't returned from Nashville. I thought you'd know. You are his business manager, aren't you?"

"Yeah, and you're his wife, neither of which means either one of us knows what the shit he's up to. I just know he ain't doing any business."

"What's that supposed to imply?"

Eddie grinned slyly, the corners of his mouth turning up in a cruel twisted travesty of a smile. He strutted into the clubroom and over to the bar, in much the same way Rene had the day of her visit. Blythe watched as he threw down a couple of neat bourbons and wiped his mouth with the back of a small hand.

He was dressed in his ritualistic suit with silk shirt open to the navel, a cascade of gold chains clinging to the darkly tanned perspiring skin. Chest hairs glistened as they curled, snarling themselves in ripples of gold like slippery moss-covered reeds, breaking through yellow waves.

Blythe swallowed hard to fight back the repulsion and trepidation that undulated through her. Feeling something noxious and menacing in his presence, she sucked her breath in sharply as he pulled a small vile from an inside coat pocket and filled a tiny silver spoon with white powder. She watched quiescent as he pressed on one elongated nostril and snorted deeply with the other. How dare he come into her home with his drugs and innuendos. Nate had warned him to keep his habits away from her and the ranch. The audacity of the man was unbelievable.

Catching her look of disgust, Eddie refilled the spoon and spitefully held it out to her. "Try some. You could stand loosening up."

Blythe shook her head, eyes narrowing angrily. "I don't need your kind of loosening up, thank you. Now, if you'll be so kind as to leave, I'll tell Nate to get in touch with you when he returns."

"Not so fast, miss hoity-toity. What makes you think I wanna see Nathan? No, babe, you and me...we got some business to discuss in private."

She glared at him, her head coming up arrogantly to match the tone of her voice. "You and I have absolutely nothing to say to one another and you have nothing I could possibly need or want."

He tossed down another jigger of bourbon and with an insidious grin, walked around the bar, drawing threateningly near her. Filled with malevolence, Eddie gloatingly witnessed her flinch and shrink back against the wall. "You're wrong," he said. "I know exactly what you need...what you've been askin' for."

She pressed her back against the stucco and folded her arms protectively around her, forcing nonchalance into her voice. "Oh, really? And just what is it you think I need, Eddie?"

He moved forward until his clammy body was inches from hers, his stench filling the air she breathed. He was not much taller than Blythe and they looked eye to eye as his short arms came up on either side of her, his damp palms leaving their moist impressions on the wall. Dark hair lay in oily wisps along his receding brow from which sweat dripped into bloodshot eyes. His breath was more than she could stand and nauseated, Blythe tried to dip out from under his left arm but he quickly lowered it, foiling her escape.

He sneered, flashing decaying teeth. "Uh-uh...I was just about ta tell ya what it is you need. The queen asks a question, the queen gets an answer."

"Spare me, Eddie," Blythe said disdainfully, bringing herself to touch him as she pushed against his sweaty shirtfront. "Let me go. You're pitiful!"

"I'm pitiful?" he hissed, spraying her face with saliva. "You fuckin' cunt! Don't you think I know all about you? I know more than poor ol' trustin' Nathan. He ain't got any idea what a cuckold you've made of him...yet!"

Blythe shoved with all her might, knocking him easily off balance in his befuddled state. Gaining control of his equilibrium, he straightened and cackled as he watched Blythe scurry to the far side of the room and frantically wipe her hands on her jeans to erase the sickening feel of him.

"Joey said you were a hellcat...a fighter. Men like that." He shot her a snide grin. "But then I don't need to tell you that now do I?"

Outrage forced Blythe to regain some of her composure. "I don't know what this is all about but there's nothing I have to be ashamed of. Nate knows about the rape and the truth about what happened with Joey. What you think doesn't matter. So, save yourself some time and trouble. There's nothing you could say that I haven't heard before."

Eddie's thin brows rose in admiration, belying his harsh words. "You fuckin' prick tease...I just be you've heard it all. You've been askin' for it for a long time now. You know that. Just like ya did with that dumb coonass drummer."

Blythe gave a sigh of disbelief. "You've got to be out of your mind to imagine I'd stoop low enough to give you the time of day. And as for Joey, he was drunk, got out of hand. It—"

"I know all about what you did out there in the stables with him. The kid didn't stand a chance. You're a pro."

"The kid knew exactly what he was doing. If he wasn't big enough to play the game, he shouldn't have been in it."

Eddie released a long slow whistle. "So now the real Mrs. Nathan Stevens comes forward with the truth. And what a piece she is."

"The truth is, I don't have just a whole lot of sympathy for buddy-fuckers."

"But it's okay to fuck the buddy, to be an adulteress, huh?" he asked with a chuckle.

Blythe took another deep breath, assuming an air of superiority. "Where do you come up with these absurd quixotic notions? I mean, really, do they manifest themselves during drug induced stupors or do you simply create them to stimulate your plebeian mind?"

"Well, la-di-da...from cunt to queen bee. You can pull all that high-and-mighty shit with me ya want, but it ain't gonna do ya any good. I've got your number. Young Joey was real eager to spill his guts about what happened. Said you was real hot, ready to go down right there on the stable floor...would have too, if Nathan hadn't shown up." He leered at her knowingly and weaving, gripped the back of a chair for support. "Ya know, we're all lucky ol' Nathan Wade got control of hisself and didn't almost kill the kid...like he did with that other one."

She felt her stomach do a flip and her heart started pounding. "What other one?"

"Oh, now I have the lady's attention," Eddie sneered. "There's a bunch you don't know about your husband. Suffice it to say, he ain't always been so great at controllin' his temper."

"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"No, I guess you wouldn't. But I didn't come here ta discuss Nathan. I came ta discuss us. I know that kid hasn't been the only one." He paused for effect before going on. "I saw you in town the other day. Can't miss that car of yours." Once again, he hesitated, savoring the look that crossed her face, letting him know he'd finally gotten to her. "Does Nathan know about the good-lookin' guy you met at the hotel? No, of course he doesn't...not from you, anyways. I waited for you ta come out. It was an awfully long wait."

Blythe found her voice. "He's an old friend of the family. We met for lunch. That's all there was to it."

"I just bet he is. And how clever of you ta pick a hotel for your little tryst. Or should I say convenient?"

"You're drawing conclusions that just don't exist." She tried to make her tone casual.

"Am I? Well, it's really not up to me, now is it? We'll just have ta wait an see what conclusions your husband draws," Eddie countered smugly.

"You're assuming he doesn't know."

"About lunch or you humpin' your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend. And it was only lunch."

"Maybe he does know. Maybe you're assumin' I haven't told him." He took a few steps towards Blythe.

She held herself rigid, unsure of how far he'd press. "Stay away from me, you slimy little creep. I don't know what you want from—"

I want part of what you've been passin' round," he cut in, coming to a standstill in front of her. "Do you have any idea how Nathan feels about being fucked around on? It would be well worth your effort ta keep me quiet." Pausing, he stared at her lasciviously, letting her know exactly what he meant. "Come on, don't look so unhappy. I'll give ya another chance. All ya gotta do is be nice to ol' Eddie, pass a little of that pussy my way...maybe get on your knees and suck my cock. Hey, in this business, we learn to share...everything."

Blythe couldn't stand anymore and tossed caution aside. She didn't care what anyone thought of her. She didn't care what lies Eddie Vega told her husband and was unable to suppress the rage and repulsion that boiled within. "You obnoxious little prick, go ahead and say anything you want. I don't give a damn! Then when you're finished, go crawl back under your rock. You're nothing but a pissant con-artist who wouldn't have a flip if it weren't for the pity of Nate Stevens. Go on and be the bloodsucking sycophant who'd kiss the devil's ass if you thought it would get you somewhere. Now, if you'll excuse me, I can't stomach being in the same room with you another second!"

With all the decorum she could muster at that moment she whisked past him but he scuttled ahead, blocking her way. At that instant, a long buried rage inside Blythe burned its way to the surface, distorting itself into a violent frenzy. As his hand barely touched her shoulder, her knee came savagely up between his legs. Gratification swept over her as she heard the air forcibly expel from his lungs and her eyes never left his face as it went livid then red as he gasped for air.

She smiled. "I warned you not to fuck with me, Eddie. And don't ever touch me again! Not ever!"

Blythe left him coughing and sputtering for the sanctity of the upstairs room she shared with Nate. Hurriedly closing the door, she locked it with trembling fingers. Resting her back against it for support, she held her vibrating hands before her and gazed at them as if they didn't belong on the ends of her arms. It wasn't until she heard the front door slam and the sound of tires screeching that she slowly released her breath, realizing only then that she'd held it, listening...praying for the insipid creature's imminent departure.