Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  Calhoun felt relieved. That was genuine concern in the other man's voice. Of course, and he hated himself for thinking of it, it could be that J.D. was counting on Fay's money to help him get his nephew. If he was, he was going to do Fay a big favor.

  "I'm going to tell you something I'm not sup­posed to know," he said. "You aren't supposed to know it, either, so don't let on."

  "What?"

  "Fay didn't get a penny. Her father lost every­thing. All she inherits is the Mercedes."

  J.D. didn't say anything, and Calhoun felt sorry for Fay. Until the sound of soft laughter came over the line and eased his mind.

  "So she's busted," Donavan said warmly. "I had a feeling it would work out like that. I'm sorry for her, but I'm damned glad in a way. I wouldn't want people to think another Langley was taking the easy way out with a rich wife."

  "You're really serious about her?" Calhoun asked, surprised.

  "Why is that so hard to believe? You must have noticed that she's got a heart as big as all outdoors," he replied. Then he spoiled it all by adding, "She's just the kind of foster mother Jeff needs."

  "You aren't going to marry her over a custody suit?"

  "Whatever it is, is none of your business, Ballen-ger," J.D. said with icy politeness. "If Fay wants to marry me, that's her affair."

  "And if she loves you, what then?"

  "She isn't old enough to love anyone yet," Don­avan said carelessly. "She's infatuated with me, and she needs a little security. I can give her enough to make her happy."

  Calhoun called him a name he wouldn't have wanted Abby to hear. "You're lower than I gave you credit for," he added coldly.

  "And it's still none of your damned business. I'll be in to check on the Mesa Blanco stock in the morn­ing." He hung up, leaving Calhoun furious.

  After hanging up on Calhoun, Donavan sipped his coffee without really tasting it. He was fond of Fay, and physically she appealed to him as no other woman had. She was innocent, and that alone excited him. He could make her happy.

  But the thing was to get Jeff, to rescue the boy who was his sister's only child from the hell he was living in. It had taken all his powers of persuasion and a lot of tongue-biting to get his venomous brother-in-law to let Jeff come up here just for the spring holidays. Possession was nine-tenths of the law. He had Jeff and he was going to keep him. He'd already talked to the lawyer he shared with Mesa Blanco about filing for custody, so the wheels were turning.

  "Are you sure you won't mind having me around, Uncle Don?" Jeff asked from his sprawled position in the armchair. With his crewcut and husky phy­sique, he looked the very picture of a boy who was all boy.

  "No, sport, I won't," Donavan said. "We get along pretty good most of the time."

  Jeff smiled. "Sure we do. Can we go riding to­morrow?"

  "Maybe. First we have to go to the feedlot and check up on the feeder cattle. There's someone I want you to meet."

  "Fay, right?" he asked, smiling again at his un­cle's surprise. "She was all you talked about on the plane," he added.

  Donavan lit a cigar and didn't look at the boy. He hadn't realized that he'd been so transparent. He'd missed Fay, but he didn't like admitting it even to himself. He'd been footloose all his life. Even if he married Fay for Jeffs sake, he didn't intend giving up his freedom.

  "Aren't you going to call her?" Jeff asked.

  "No," Donavan said, frowning. He did want to, but he wasn't going to give in to his impulse. Better to start the way he meant to go on, and acting like a boy with a crush wasn't going to keep him in control of his life.

  "It's nice here," Jeff said after a minute. "I hate military school. You can't do anything without per- mission.”

  "Don't expect to be able to run wild here," his uncle cautioned.

  "No, I don't. But you like me, at least. My step­father hates my guts," he added coldly. "Especially now that he's married her and they're expecting their own child. He didn't even love my mother, did you know?"

  Donavan's face hardened. "I knew," he said. He didn't elaborate on it, but he knew very well that his brother-in-law's blatant affairs had all but killed his sister. She'd loved the man, but his womanizing had depressed her to the point of madness. A simple case of pneumonia had taken her out of this world, out of her torment, leaving a heartbroken brother and son behind to mourn her. Donavan had hated Jeffs step­father ever since. Better his sister had stayed in mourning for her first husband than pitch headlong into a second marriage that was doomed from the start.

  . "What did she see in him?" Jeff asked miserably. "He drinks like a fish and he's always off some­where. I think he's running around on his new wife already."

  It wouldn't surprise Donavan. After all, he thought viciously, he was running around with his current wife while he was still married to Donavan's sister.

  "Let's forget he exists for a few days," he told Jeff. "How about a game of chess?"

  "Super!"

  While Donavan and Jeff were playing chess, Fay was trying to come to grips with her new situation.

  She'd always secretly wondered how she would cope if she ever lost everything. Now was her big chance, she thought with black humor, to find out. If she could conquer her fear of having her livelihood depend on her own efforts, she could manage. Thank goodness Donavan had made her take a good look at herself and start learning independence. If she'd still been living with Uncle Henry now, she really would have been terrified.

  She understood now why her uncle had been so eager to push her at his business associate, Sean. It had been out of a misplaced protective instinct. He'd hoped she'd marry Sean and be secure when she found out there was nothing left of her parents' es­tate.

  Even though she was grateful for his concern, she wished he'd told her sooner. She put her face in her hands. Well, she could always write to Great-Aunt Tessie and beg for help if things got too bad. She and the old lady had always kept in touch. In fact, there was no one else who loved Tessie just because of her sweet self and not her money. Fay always remembered the elderly woman's birthday. She won­dered if anyone else ever had. Certainly not her par­ents.

  She wiped the tears away and wondered when Donavan was coming back. He might not want her now. She had to face the fact that without her wealth, despite what he'd said about not wanting a wealthy woman, he might walk away without looking back. Time would tell. For now, she had enough to keep her busy. She got up from her chair and went to find the paperwork on the Mercedes. At least it would bring a tidy sum, and give her a badly needed nest egg-

  The next morning after she'd dropped the papers off at Barry Holman's office, she was working away when the office door opened and Donavan Langley came in with a dark-haired boy at his side.

  So he was back. And that had to be Jeff. Her heart ran wild, but she pinned a polite smile to her face as he approached her desk.

  “Good morning," she said politely.

  "This is Jeff," he replied without answering her. "Jeff, this is Fay York."

  "Nice to meet you," Jeff said. He was watching her with open curiosity. "You're pretty."

  She flushed. "Thank you."

  Jeff grinned. "My uncle likes you."

  "That's enough," Donavan drawled. "Go out and look at the cattle. But don't get in the way, and stay out of the pens."

  "Yes, sir!"

  He was off at a dead run, barely missing one of the amused cowboys. "Keep an eye on him, will you, Ted?" Donavan called.

  "Sure thing, Mr. Langley," the cowboy replied, and turned on his heel to follow Jeff.

  "He's impulsive and high tempered," Donavan told her. "I have to watch him like a hawk so that he doesn't hurt himself." He searched her eyes with no particular expression on his lean face, but his sil­ver eyes were glittery with contained excitement. She stirred him up. He'd missed her more than he wanted to admit. But she wasn't receptive today. That smile was as artificial as the ficus plant in the pot beside her desk.

  "Did you have a nice trip?" she as
ked for some­thing to break the silence.

  He nodded. "Jeff and I got in last night."

  And he hadn't called. Well, now she knew where she stood. The fixed smile didn't waver, even if she had gone a shade paler. "He's a nice looking young man."

  "He favors his mother. How about lunch? You can go with us to the hamburger joint."

  She wanted to, but it was better to break this off now even if it killed her. Things could only get worse, and her life was in utter turmoil.

  "I can't today, but thanks anyway."

  He started. "Why can't you?"

  "I have to see Mr. Holman about selling the Mer­cedes," she said with stiff pride. "You'll find out sooner or later, so I might as well tell you. I don't have any money. My parents left me without a dime." She lifted her chin and stared at him fear­lessly. "All I have is the Mercedes and it's going on the market so that I'll have a nest egg for emergen­cies."

  He didn't like the way she said that. She made it sound as if his only interest in her was what she had. Didn't she know it was her wealth that had stood between them in the first place?

  He scowled. "The money didn't matter."

  "Didn't it?" she asked bravely.

  His gray eyes narrowed. "So you did believe Bart after all. You think I'm as money-crazy as my father." His expression went hard with contained rage. He'd thought she knew him better than that. It hurt to realize that she was just like several other people in Jacobsville who tarred him with the same brush they'd used on his father. "All right, honey. If that's the kind of man you think I am, then take your damned Mercedes and go to hell with it," he said cuttingly. He turned and went after Jeff.

  Fay couldn't believe she'd said such a thing to him. Not that it would make any difference, she kept assuring herself. He didn't want her in the first place, so all she'd done was save herself a little more heart­ache.

  Donavan didn't come back through the office on his way out. He took Jeff with him the back route, stormy and unapproachable, smoking his cigar like a furnace all the way to the car.

  "What's eating you?" Jeff asked curiously.

  "Nothing. What do you want for lunch?"

  "A cheeseburger. I thought you said Fay was coming with us? Didn't she want to?"

  "She was busy," he said curtly. "Get in."

  Jeff shrugged. He wondered if he was ever going to understand adults.

  Calhoun paused by Fay's desk, noticing her worn expression and trembling hands.

  "J.D.'s been by, I gather," he said dryly.

  She lifted her miserable eyes to his. "You might say that. He had Jeff with him."

  "And left you here?"

  She sat up straighten "I told him I didn't have any money. He left."

  He whistled. "Not a wise move, Fay," Calhoun said gently. "Donavan's touchy about money. You knew that his father—?"

  "Yes, I knew," she cut him off gently. "It's for the best," she said. "He didn't really care about me. If he wanted me at all it was because he had a better chance of keeping Jeff if I was around. I'm not stu­pid. I know he doesn't love me."

  Calhoun wanted to deny that, to reassure her, but it was patently obvious that she was right, J. D. Langley wasn't the hearts-and-roses type, but he sure didn't act like a man in love.

  "It's early days yet," he told her, wanting to say something positive. "Give him time. J.D.'s been a loner ever since I've known him. He's a lot like Jus­tin. Maybe that's why they get along so well. I have to admit, he and I have never been particularly friendly, but that doesn't have anything to do with you."

  "I guess I should apologize," she began.

  "Oh, not yet," he said, smiling. "Let him sweat for a while. It will do him good to be on the receiving end for once."

  "You mean, he's usually the one who does the jilting," she said, sighing as she remembered how experienced he was. "I guess he's done his share of breaking hearts."

  "Be careful of yours," Calhoun said seriously. "There's something I want to mention to you. I told you that this job was temporary, just until Nita came back." He hesitated, noticing her depressed look as she nodded. "Well, I want to offer it to you permanently. I need a secretary of my own, and Nita works a lot better with Justin than she does with me. What do you say? We've been thinking of adding a secretary, but until you came along, we weren't sure exactly what we wanted. You suit me and we seem to work pretty well together. Besides," he added on a chuckle, "Abby might divorce me if I let you go. She thinks a lot of you."

  "I think a lot of her." Fay brightened magically. "You really mean it?"

  "I mean it. If you want the job permanently, it's yours."

  "And Nita won't mind working just for Justin?"

  "I've already asked her. She almost kissed my feet. It seems that she's only been putting on a brave face about handling the workload for both of us. Get­ting some relief has given her a new lease on life. She said she was actually thinking of staying home with the baby just to get away from the work."

  "Then I'd love the job, thank you," she said brightly. "You have no idea how much I enjoy work­ing here. Besides," she confessed, not realizing that he already knew her situation, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to work for the rest of my life. My parents didn't leave me anything. I'm flat broke."

  "In that case, we'll be helping each other out," he said. "So welcome aboard."

  "Thanks, Calhoun," she said, and meant it. "Thanks very much."

  "My pleasure."

  She turned her attention back to her computer with an improved outlook. At least she had a job, even if she didn't have J. D. Langley. But that might still be for the best. She'd only have been letting herself in for a lot of heartache. It was better not to even begin something that was blighted from the start. And it wasn't as if he loved her. She had to keep remem­bering that.

  The man driving back toward home was trying to keep it in mind himself, while he fumed inwardly at Fay's attitude. He wasn't mercenary, but she thought he was. Like father, like son. He groaned inwardly. Would he never be free of the stigma?

  Jeff hadn't said a word, and Donavan couldn't bring himself to tell the boy why Fay wouldn't come to lunch with them. She thought he'd only been keeping company with her because of her money, when he'd already told her he didn't like rich women.

  But in all honesty, he had to admit that he'd given her no real reason to think she was of value to him as a person. He'd talked much more about getting custody of Jeff than of wanting her for herself. He'd made love to her lightly, but even that could have convinced her that it was desire mingled with the need for a woman to aid his case to keep Jeff.

  He frowned. He hadn't given her any chance at all. To compound it, he'd told her that he'd been back in town for almost a whole day and hadn't even bothered to phone her. He groaned inwardly. He'd made so many mistakes.

  Worst of all, he hadn't considered her feelings. She'd just been told that she'd lost everything. All she had to her name was a Mercedes-Benz that she was going to have to sell. It was more than an in­heritance she'd lost—it was her whole way of life. She had to be terrified at being responsible for her­self. She was only twenty-one, and so alone, because she and her uncle weren't close. She'd needed com­fort and help, and he'd told her to go to hell.

  "You look terrible, Uncle Don," Jeff broke the tense silence. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Not yet. But I will be," he said, and abruptly turned around in his own front yard and headed right back toward town. It was quitting time, so Fay would most likely be at home. He didn't know what he was going to say to her. He'd think of something.

  Chapter Six

  Fay had thought about staying late at the office, just to keep her mind busy, but in the end she decided she would be equally well-off at home. She said good-night to her co-workers and drove the short dis­tance back to her apartment house.

  The Mercedes felt uncomfortable now that she was a working girl. It was just as well that Mr. Holman was going to help her sell it. There would be no more luxury
cars, no more shopping sprees that didn't in­clude looking at price tags. There would be no more designer clothes. No bottomless bank account to fall back on. She could have cried. She would make it. She knew she would. But getting used to her circum­stances was going to take a little time.

  She got out of the car and was walking onto the front porch when she heard the roar of a vehicle and saw Donavan driving up next to the Mercedes with Jeff beside him.

  Not another fight, she prayed silently, her wan face resigned and miserable even if her eyes did light up helplessly at the very sight of him when he got out and approached her.

  He stopped just in front of her, his own expression somber. She looked bad. The camouflage she'd hid­den her fears behind had vanished now, because she was tired and her guard was down. He reached out and touched her mouth, dry and devoid of lipstick.

  "I'm sorry," he said without preamble. "I didn't think about how you must feel until I was back home."

  The unexpected compassion, on top of the emo­tional turmoil she'd been through, cracked inside her. Tears poured down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, too," she managed brokenly. "Oh, Donavan, I didn't mean it...!"

  His breath caught at her vulnerability, and he was glad he'd made the decision to come back. Without a word, he bent and lifted her in his hard arms and started back toward his car, kissing the tears away as he went, whispering comforting things that she didn't quite hear.

  Jeff saw them coming and, with a grin, moved into the back seat. Donavan winked at him before he slid Fay into the passenger seat and trussed her up in her seat belt.

  "Stay put," he told her. "We're kidnapping you."

  "What will my landlord think?" she asked with a watery smile.

  "That you're being kidnapped, of course. We'll take her home and hold her prisoner until she cooks supper for us," he told Jeff, who was smiling from ear to ear. "If she's a good cook, I'll marry her right away."

  Fay was trying not to choke. "But you told me to go to...!" she began.

  "Not in front of the boy," he said with a mock glower. "He isn't supposed to know words like that."

  "What century is he living in?" Jeff asked, rolling his eyes. "Gimme a break, man!"