The Master Fiddler

CHAPTER ONE

After she had traveled westward from Dallas, Texas, for two days, the unending desert scenery had begun to bore Jacqueline Grey. The road seemed to stretch through the same land. The rocks and shrubs were jumbled in different order yet appeared almost identical. The heat was oppressive on this September morning.

Actually it was closer to noon, Jacquie realized as the gold bracelets jangled away from the face of her wristwatch. Her start out of Bisbee, Arizona, had not been early, but considering the hour she had gone to bed the night before--or this morning, however one wished to look at it--she deserved congratulations for being behind the wheel at this moment.

With a wry smile curving the fullness of her mouth, she knew that no one mapping out a trip from Dallas to Los Angeles would ever succeed in including Bisbee along its path. Neither would she if it hadn't been for the fact that her girl friend Tammy had recently moved there with her husband.

The sun glared on the road ahead. A dull pain throbbed at Jacquie's temples, an unpleasant reminder of the too many tequila cocktails she had consumed last night. With one hand on the steering wheel, she fumbled through her oversize leather purse for the dusty, rose-shaded sunglasses.

Once in place on the fine bridge of her nose, the glasses shaded her eyes, hiding their unusual turquoise green color without concealing the curling length of her thick lashes. A raking movement of her long fingernails flipped the hair that had fallen across her cheek to the back of her shoulder. The pale, silver gold color of her hair, a completely natural hue since birth, resembled corn silk.

Jacquie was not blind to the somewhat stunning quality of her beauty. Without conceit, she knew the impact she made on the male members of her species when they met her. A beautiful child grown into a beautiful woman of twenty, she was accustomed to second glances and fulsome compliments.

Nor was she the type to falsely bemoan her looks when men concentrated on her physical attributes instead of her intelligence or her vivacious personality. She was attractive and darned glad of it!

As for faults, Jacquie would readily admit to having her share. For starters, she was too much her father's daughter--headstrong, independent, and proud. Secondly, she was spoiled. As an only child of relatively wealthy parents, she had been to a certain extent pampered and indulged. Naturally, she had a temper, a very human trait. Enemies, of which she probably had a few, would be more able to list her failings, Jacquie decided.

Except what did all this self-analysis explain, she wondered irritatedly. Certainly not her restless and unsettled mood. It had been with her spasmodically for the last several months. It had brought her here to southern Arizona en route to California.

Last night when she had presented herself at Tammy's doorstep, she had made it sound like a grand adventure, cutting the parental ties and striking out entirely on her own. The argument with her parents, mainly with her father, had been laughingly related.

It hadn't been funny at all. Looking back, Jacquie wished she could take back some of the bitter words she had hurled. Since she hadn't understood the reason for her action, she hadn't been able to explain it to her parents. The argument had begun with her announcement that she wouldn't be returning to the university when the fall term started.

"What do you mean?" her father had demanded, an incredulous frown appearing on his forehead. "You only have two years before you get your degree."

"My degree in what, Dad?" Jacquie had replied somewhat cynically. "I'm a liberal arts major. That means I'm just getting an education in a little bit of everything because I don't know what I want."

"At least you're getting an education. There are a lot of people in this world who would like to trade places with you."

"That's precisely my point." Jacquie had seized on her father's attempt to remind her of the good fortune she had. "There's someone out there who would love to have the education I'm receiving. I don't happen to want it, so I'm quitting to make room for that someone who does."

"How magnanimous of you!" her father had mocked. "And just what do you plan to do instead of attending college?"

"The very same thing I would do after I graduate," she had replied, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "Get a job."

Her father had impatiently raked his fingers through his hair, now more a silver gray than the silver blond of his daughter's. "Without an education, what type of job do you think you'll get?"

"I don't know. I don't even know what kind I want. An education isn't going to solve that."

"A degree will allow you a wider choice," he had retorted. "Do you know what kind of jobs would be open to you now? I'll tell you. You can be a waitress or a sales clerk or a typist."

"What's wrong with those?" Jacqueline had challenged the faintly snobbish ring of his voice. "They're honest jobs."

"I never said they weren't," he had answered defensively. "Is it wrong for me to want something more for my daughter? At least at college you would be meeting suitable young men."

"The university isn't a marriage market, Dad. And marriage has nothing to do with my decision anyway. I want to be on my own for a while."

"What do you know about earning your own living? You haven't done a day's work in your life!" he had snapped. "It's rare to even see you helping your mother around the house!"

That was the point when the angry words had really begun. Her father's angry accusation that Jacquie only wanted a free ride through life on his shoulders had forced her to insist that she wanted nothing from him but the right to live her own life the way she wanted.

The end result of the argument was this journey to Los Angeles where Jacquie intended to start her new life. There was no particular reason. It had been the first city she had thought of when her father had demanded to know where she was going.

Before she had answered his question, he had bitterly added that he was certain it would be somewhere close by so she could run home to momma when the world got too rough. So the city of Los Angeles had popped out and here she was on her way. It was not the city she would have chosen if she had given it more thought. But once that was said, Jacquie was too stubborn and headstrong to be talked out of her choice.

A glance at the speedometer of her foreign economy car brought an easing of the pressure of her foot against the gas pedal. A chuckle slipped from Jacquie's throat. For two and a half days she had been on her own. Thus far she had acquired a speeding ticket in Texas, another in New Mexico, and a hangover in Bisbee. It was hardly an auspicious beginning.