Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  Evan was too shocked to speak. By the time he finally realized that his mother knew nothing about Miranda, it was too late. He could even understand why she'd made such an assumption, because he'd heard Harden make the threat. Miranda was a city girl, and she dressed like one, with sophistication and style. Theodora, with her country background, could easily mistake a woman she didn't know for something she wasn't.

  The front door opened and Miranda was marched into the living room by Harden.

  "Miranda, this is my mother, Theodora," he said arrogantly, and without a word of greeting, which only cemented Theodora's horrified assumption.

  Miranda stared at the small, dark woman who stood with clenched hands at her waist.

  "It's...very nice to meet you," Miranda said, her voice shaking a little, because the older woman hadn't said a word or cracked a smile yet. She looked intimidating and furiously angry. Miranda's face flushed as she recognized the blatant hostility without understanding what had triggered it. "Harden's been kind to me..."

  "I'll bet he has," Theodora said with uncharacteristic venom in her voice.

  Miranda wasn't used to cruelty. She didn't quite know how to handle it. She swallowed down tears. "I...I guess I really should go, Harden," she blurted out, flushing violently as she met Harden's furious eyes. "I..."

  "What kind of welcome is this?" he asked his mother.

  "What kind did you expect?" Theodora countered, her eyes flashing. "This is a low-down thing to do to me, Harden."

  "To you?" he growled. "How do you think Miranda feels?"

  "I don't remember extending any invitations," Theodora replied stiffly.

  Miranda was ready to get under the carpet. "Please, let's go," she appealed to Harden, almost frantic to leave.

  "You just got here," Evan said shortly. "Come in and sit down, for God's sake."

  But Miranda wouldn't budge. Her eyes pleaded with Harden.

  He understood without a word being spoken. "All right, little one," he said gently. His hand slid down to take hers in a gesture of quiet comfort. "I'm sorry about this. We'll go."

  "Nice to...to have met you," Miranda stammered, ready to run for it.

  Harden was furious, and looked it. "Her husband was killed in a car wreck a few months back," he told his mother, watching her face stiffen with surprise. "She lost the baby she was carrying at the same time. I've been seeing her in Chicago, and I wanted her to visit Jacobsville. But considering the reception she just got, I don't imagine she'll miss the introductions."

  He turned, his fingers caressing Miranda's, while Evan fumed and Theodora fought tears.

  "Oh, no! No, please...!" Theodora spoke in a rush, embarrassed at her unkindness. The younger woman looked as if she'd been whipped, and despite Harden's lack of courtesy in telling her about this visit, she couldn't take it out on an innocent person. It was her own fault that she'd leaped to conclusions.

  "I really have to go home," Miranda replied, her red face saying far more than the words. "My job...!"

  Harden cursed under his breath. He brought her roughly to his side and held her there, his eyes protective as they went from her bowed head to his mother's tormented face.

  "I asked Miranda down here to let her get to know my family and see if she likes it around here," he said with a cold smile. "Because if she does, I'm going to marry her. We can accomplish that without imposing on your hospitality," he told Theodora. "I'm sure the local motel has two rooms to spare."

  Miranda looked up into Harden's face. "Don't," she said softly. "Please, don't. I shouldn't have come. Take me to the airport, please. I was wrong to come."

  "No, you weren't," Evan said curtly. He glared at Theodora and then at Harden. "Look at her, damn it! Look what you're doing to her!"

  Two pairs of eyes saw Miranda's white face, her huge, tragic eyes with their unnatural brightness.

  "Evan's right," Theodora said with as much dignity as she could gather. "I'm sorry, Miranda. This isn't your fight."

  "Which is why she's leaving," Harden added. He drew Miranda against him and turned her, gently maneuvering her out the door and back to the car.

  "Where are you going?" Theodora asked miserably.

  "Chicago," Harden said without breaking stride.

  "She hasn't met Donald and Jo Ann, or Connal and Pepi," Evan remarked from the porch. He stuck his big hands into his pockets. "Not to mention that she hasn't had time to say hello to the bulls in the barn or learn to ride a horse, or especially, to get to know me. God knows, I'm the flower of the family."

  Harden raised his eyebrows. "You?"

  Evan glowered at him. "Me. I'm the eldest. After I was born, the rest of you were just an afterthought. You can't improve on perfection."

  Miranda managed a smile at the banter. Evan was kind.

  Theodora came down the steps and paused in front of her son and the other woman. "I've done this badly, and I'm sorry. You're very welcome in my home, Miranda. I'd like you to stay."

  Miranda hesitated, looking up at Harden uncertainly.

  "You'll never get to see all my sterling qualities if you leave now," Evan said.

  She smiled involuntarily.

  "And I just baked a chocolate cake," Theodora added with an unsteady smile. "And made a pot of coffee. You probably didn't have much to eat on the plane."

  "We didn't," Miranda confessed. "I was too nervous to eat."

  "Not without cause, either, it seems," Harden said with a glare at his mother.

  "Cut it out, or we'll go for a walk behind the barn," Evan said with a smile that didn't touch his dark eyes. "Remember the last one?"

  "You lost a tooth," Harden said.

  "I was thinking about your broken nose," came the easy reply.

  "You can't fight," Theodora told them. "Miranda probably already thinks she's been landed in a brawl. We should be able to be civil to each other if we

  try."

  "For a few days, anyway," Evan agreed. "Don't worry, honey, I'll protect you from them," he said in a stage whisper.

  She did laugh, then, at the wicked smile on his broad face. She clung to Harden's hand and went back into the house.

  Theodora was less brittle after they'd had coffee, but it wasn't until Evan took Harden off to see some new cattle that she really warmed up.

  "I'm sorry about all this,” she told Miranda earnestly. "Harden...likes to make things difficult for me, you see. I didn't know you were coming with him."

  Miranda paled. "He didn't tell you?!"

  Theodora grimaced. "Oh, dear. You didn't know, did you? I feel even worse now." She didn't, couldn't add, that she'd thought Miranda was a woman of the streets. That tragic young face was wounded enough without adding insult to injury.

  "I'm so sorry...I can get a room in the motel," she began almost frantically.

  Theodora laid a gentle hand on her arm. "Don't. Now that Donald and Jo Ann have their own home, like Connal and Pepi, I never have much female company. I'll enjoy having someone to talk to." She studied Miranda's wan face. "Harden's never brought a woman home."

  "He feels sorry for me," Miranda said bluntly. "And he wants me." Her thin shoulders rose and fell. "I don't know why he wants to marry me, really, but he's relentless, isn't he? I was on the plane before I knew it."

  Theodora smiled. "Yes, he's relentless. And he can be cruel." She drew in a steadying breath. "I can't pretend that he doesn't have a reason for that. I...had an affair. Harden was the result."

  "Yes, I know." She replied, her voice gentle. "He told me."

  Theodora's eyes widened. "That's a first! I don't think he's ever told anyone else."

  "I suppose he isn't on his guard so much with me," Miranda said. "You see, I haven't had much spirit since the accident."

  "It must have been terrible for you. You loved your husband?" she asked.

  "I was fond of him," Miranda corrected. "And sorry that he had to die the way he did. It's my baby that I miss the most. I wanted him so much!"

  "I los
t two," Theodora said quietly. "I understand. Time will help."

  Miranda's eyes narrowed as she looked at the older woman. "Forgive me, but it's more than just the circumstances of Harden's birth between the two of you, isn't it?" she asked very gently. "There's something more..."

  Theodora caught her breath. "You're very perceptive, my dear. Yes, there is something more."

  "I don't mean to pry," Miranda said when Theodora hesitated.

  "No. It's your right to know. I'm not sure that Harden would ever talk about it." She leaned forward. "There was a girl. They were very much in love, but her parents disapproved. They had planned to elope and get married." Theodora's eyes went dull and sad with the memory. "She called here one night, frantic, begging to speak to Harden." She grimaced. "He'd gone to bed, and I thought they'd had a quarrel or something and it could wait until morning. Harden and I have never been really close, so I knew nothing of their plans to elope, or even that he was honestly in love with her. She seemed to be forever calling at bad times. I was trying to finish up in the kitchen because it was late, and I was tired. I lied. I told her that he didn't want to talk to her at the moment, and I hung up."

  Miranda frowned slightly, not understanding.

  Theodora looked up. "Her parents had found out about the elopement and were making arrangements to send her to a school in Switzerland to get her away from Harden. I can only guess that having Harden refuse to speak to her, as I made it sound, was the last straw. She walked out onto the second-story balcony of her house and jumped off, to the stone patio below. She died instantly."

  Miranda's eyes closed as she pictured how it would have been for Harden after that. He was sensitive, and deep, and to lose someone he'd loved that much because of a thoughtless phone call must have taken all the color out of his world.

  "Yes, you understand, don't you?" Theodora asked quietly. "He stayed drunk for weeks afterward." She dabbed at tears. "I've never forgiven myself, either. It was twelve years ago, but it might as well have been yesterday as far as Harden is concerned. That, added to the circumstances of his birth, has made me his worst enemy and turned him against women with a vengeance."

  "I'm sorry, for both of you," Miranda said. "It can't have been an easy thing to get over."

  Theodora sipped coffee before she spoke. "As you see, Miranda, we all have our crosses," she mused.

  "Yes." She picked up her own coffee cup. "Thank you for telling me."

  Theodora's eyes narrowed. "Do you love him?"

  The younger woman's face flushed, but she didn't look away. "With all my heart," she said. It was the first time she'd admitted it, even to herself.

  "Harden is very protective of you," Theodora observed. "And he seems to be serious."

  "He wants me very badly," Miranda said. "But whether or not he feels anything else, only he knows. Desire isn't enough, really."

  "Love can grow out of it, though. Harden knows how to love. He's just forgotten." Theodora smiled. "Perhaps you can reeducate him."

  Miranda smiled back. "Perhaps. You're sure you don't mind if I stay with you? I was serious about the motel."

  "I'm very sure, Miranda." Theodora watched the young face relax, and she was glad she hadn't made the situation worse than it was.

  Evan and Harden were on their way back to the house before Evan said anything about Miranda's arrival.

  "I can't believe you brought her home," he murmured, grinning at his younger brother. "People will faint all over Jacobsville if you get married."

  Harden shrugged. "She's young and pretty, and we get along. It's time I married someone." His eyes ran slowly around the property. "Even if there are four of us, we'll need sons to help us keep the place. I'd hate to see it cut up into subdivisions one day."

  "So would I." Evan shoved his big hands into his pockets. "Mother thought you were bringing that streetwalker you threatened her with once. Not that I expect you'd know a streetwalker if you saw one," he murmured dryly, "considering your years of celibacy."

  Harden let the insinuation go, as he always did, but he frowned. "You didn't tell Theodora who Miranda was?"

  "I started to, but there wasn't time." His expression sobered. "You should have called first. No matter what vendettas you're conducting against Mother, you owe her a little common courtesy. Presenting her with a houseguest and no advance notice is unforgivable."

  Harden, surprisingly, agreed. "Yes, I know." He broke off a twig from the low-hanging limb of one of the pecan trees as they passed through the small orchard and toyed with it. "Has Theodora ever talked about my real father?" he asked suddenly.

  Chapter Eight

  Evan's eyebrows shot up and he stopped walking. Harden had never once asked anything about his real father. He hadn't even wanted to know the man's name.

  "What brought on that question?" he asked.

  Harden frowned. "I don't know. I'm just curious. I'd like to know something about him, that's all."

  "You'll have to ask Mother, then," Evan told him. "Because she's the only one who can tell you what you want to know."

  He grimaced. "Wouldn't she love that?" he asked darkly.

  Evan turned. "She'll die one day," he said shortly. "You're going to have to live with the way you treat her."

  Harden looked dangerous for a minute, but his eyes calmed. He stared out over the land. "Yes, I know," he confessed. "But she's got some things to deal with herself."

  "I have a simpler philosophy than you," Evan said quietly. "I believe that the day we die is preordained. That being the case, I can accept tragedy a little better than you can. If you think Theodora played God that night, think again. You of all people should know that nobody can interfere if God wants someone to live."

  Harden's heart jumped. He scowled, but he didn't speak.

  "Hadn't considered that, had you?" Evan asked. "You've been so eaten up with hatred and vengeance that you haven't even thought about God's hand in life. You're the churchgoer, not me. Why don't you try living what you preach? Let's see a little forgiveness, or isn't that what your religion is supposed to be all about?"

  He walked ahead of Harden to the house, leaving the other man quiet and thoughtful.

  Supper that evening was boisterous. Donald and Jo Ann were live wires, vying with Evan for wisecracks, and they made up for Harden's brooding and Theodora's discomfort.

  Donald was shorter and more wiry than his brothers, although he had dark hair and eyes like Evan. Jo Ann was redheaded and blue-eyed, a little doll with a ready smile and a big heart. They took to Miranda at once, and she began to feel more at home by the minute, despite Harden's lack of enthusiasm for the gathering.

  After the meal, Harden excused himself and went outside. He didn't ask Miranda to join him, but she did.

  He glanced back at her, startled. "I thought you were having the time of your life with the family."

  She smiled at his belligerence. It was uncanny, how well she understood him. He was the outsider; he didn't fit in. He was on his guard and frankly jealous of the attention she was getting from the family he pretended he wasn't a part of. She couldn't let on that she knew that, of course.

  She moved to join him on the porch swing, where he was lazily smoking a cigarette.

  "I like your family very much," she agreed. "But I came here because of you."

  He was touched. He hadn't been wrong about her after all. She seemed to know things about him, emotionally, that he couldn't manage to share with her in words.

  Hesitantly he slid his free arm around her and drew her close, loving the way she clung, her hand resting warmly over his chest while the swing creaked rhythmically on its chains.

  "It's so peaceful here," she said with a sigh.

  "Too peaceful for you, city girl?" he teased gently.

  She started to tell him about her background, but she decided to keep her secret for a little longer. He had to want her for herself, not just because she could fit in on a ranch. She didn't want to prejudice his decision about marryi
ng her until she was sure of his feelings.

  "I travel a good deal And I'll keep the apartment in Houston. You won't get too bored," he promised her. He stared at her dark head with new possession. "Lift your face, Miranda," he said, his voice soft and deep in the quiet. "I'm going to kiss you."

  She obeyed him without conscious thought, waiting for his mouth. It was smoky from the cigarette, and still warm from the coffee he'd had with supper. But most of all, it was slow, and a little rough, and very thorough.

  A soft moan broke the silence. She lifted her arms, startled by the onrush of passion that made her desperate for more of him than this.

  If she felt it, so did he. The cigarette went over the banister as he lifted her across him, and the kiss went from a slow exploration to a statement of intent in seconds.

  She heard him curse under his breath as he fought the buttons of her shirtwaist dress, and then his hand was on her, possessive in its caressing warmth.

  "Miranda," he whispered into her mouth. His hand was faintly tremulous where it traced the swollen contours of her breast.

  He lifted his head and drew the dress away from her body, but the porch was too dark to suit him. He stood up with Miranda in his arms and moved toward the settee against the wall, where the light from the living room filtered through the curtains onto the porch.

  "Where are we going?" Miranda asked, dazed by the force of her own desire.

  "Into the light," he said huskily, "I have to see you." He sat down with Miranda in his arms, turning her so that he could see her breasts. "I have to look at you... Yes!"

  "Harden?" She barely recognized her own high-pitched voice, so shaken was she by the look on his face.

  "You're beautiful, little one," he whispered, meeting her eyes. His hand moved and she shivered. His head bent to her mouth, brushing it tenderly. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

  "The same thing you do to me, I hope," she whispered. Her body arched helplessly. "Harden," she moaned. "Someone could come out here. Oh, can't we go somewhere...?"