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huge ball legs and a headboard and footboard resplendant with hand-carved floral motifs. The cur tains were Priscillas ,
the center panels of rose patterns with faint pink and blue coloring. The rest
of the house followed the same subdued
elegance of style and color. It denoted a person who was introverted, sensitive
and old-fashioned. Which, under the flam boyant camouflage, Tira really was.
    If there was a flaw, and it was a small one, it was the
mouse who lived in the kitchen. Once the house was
finished, and she'd moved in, she noticed him her first
night in residence, sitting bra zenly on a cabinet
clutching a piece of cracker that she'd missed when she was cleaning up.
    She
bought traps and set them, hoping that the evil things would do their horrible work correctly and that she
wouldn't be left nurs ing a wounded
mouse. But the wily creature avoided the traps. She tried a cage and bait. That didn't work, either. Either the mouse was like those in that cartoon she'd loved,
altered by some secret lab and made
intelligent, or he was a figment of her imag ination and she was going mad.
    She laughed almost hysterically at the thought that Simon
had finally, after all those years, driven her
crazy.
    Despite the mouse, she loved her new
home. But even though
    she led a hectic life, there were still the lonely nights to get through. The walls began to close around her, despite the
fact that she involved herself in charity work committees and was a tireless worker for political action fund-raisers. She worked long
hours, and pushed herself unnecessarily hard. But she
had no outside interests and too much money to work a
daily job. What she needed was something interesting to do
at home, to keep her mind occupied at night,
when she was alone. But what?
    It was a rainy Monday morning. She'd gone to the market
for fresh vegetables and wasn't really watching
where she was walk ing when she turned a corner and went
right into the path of Corrigan Hart and
his new wife, Dorothy.
    "Good Lord," she gasped, catching her breath.
"What are you two doing in San Antonio?"
    Corrigan grinned. "Buying cattle," he said,
drawing a radiant Dorothy closer. "Which reminds
me, I didn't see you at the auc tion this time. I
was standing in for Simon," he added. "For some reason, he's gone off sales lately."
    "So have I, coincidentally," Tira remarked with a cool smile. It stung to think that Simon had given up those auctions that he loved so much to avoid her, but that was most certainly
the reason. "I sold the Montana
property."
    Corrigan scowled. "But you loved the ranch. It was
your last link with your father."
    That was true, and it had made her sad for a time. She
twisted the shopping basket in her hands.
"I'd gotten into a rut," she said. "I wanted to change my life."
    "So I noticed," Corrigan said quietly. "We
went by your apart ment to say hello. You weren't
there."
    "I moved." She colored a little at his probing
glance. "I've bought a house across town."
    Corrigan's eyes narrowed. "Someplace where you won't
see Simon occasionally," he said gently.
    The color in her cheeks intensified.
"Where I won't see Simon

164
    Beloved
    Diana Palmer
    165

at all, if you want the truth," she said bluntly. "I've given
up all my connections with the past. There won't be
any more accidental meetings with him. I've decided that
I'm tired of eating my heart out for a man who doesn't
want me. So I've stopped."
    Corrigan looked surprised. Dorie eyed the other woman
with quiet sympathy.
    "In the long run, that's probably the best thing you
could have done," Dorie said quietly.
"You're still young and very pretty," she added with a smile. "And the world is full of men."
    "Of course it is," Tira replied. She returned Dorie's smile. "I'm glad things worked out for you two, and I'm
very sorry I almost split you up," she added
sincerely. "Believe me, it was unintentional."
    " Tira , I know that,"
Dorie replied, remembering how a chance remark of Tira's in a local