Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  He looked at her as if he hadn't heard correctly. "Betty, your husband was buried week before last," he said.

  She shrugged. "He'd run out of money and he was barely able to get around by himself." She smiled in a shallow, childlike way, and he realized that she was just that—childlike. She had no depth of emotion at all, just a set of wants and needs that she satisfied the best she knew how, with her body. He'd lived with her for two years, ached for her for ten more, and he'd never known the sort of person she really was until he became involved with Dana. Now he could see the real difference between the two women.

  He removed her hand from his arm. "I have some things to finish," he told her. "We'll talk later. Okay?"

  She smiled. "Okay, lover."

  Chapter 6

  It took all of another ten days for Hayden to wrap up the odds and ends of Bob's life and get his affairs safely into the hands of a good local attorney. Bob had an attorney, but the man had been evasive and almost impossible to locate. Finally it had taken the threat of litigation to get him to turn over needed documents. And afterward, the man—who had a degree in law from an interesting but unaccredited law school overseas—had vanished. It was no wonder that Bob had lost most of his money. The charlatan had embezzled it. Fortunately there would be enough left, added to the life insurance, to keep Betty fairly secure if she was careful.

  It was only as he explained things to her and she realized that he wasn't going to propose marriage that she came apart for real.

  "But you love me," she exclaimed. "You always have. Look at how quickly you married that child just so I wouldn't think you were carrying a torch for me!"

  "It might have started that way," he replied quietly. "It didn't end that way. I can't afford to lose her now."

  "Oh, she's got money, I guess."

  He frowned. "No. She hasn't a dime in the world. Do you always ascribe mercenary reasons to every decision?"

  "Of course I do," she said, and smiled faintly. "Security is the most important thing in the world. I didn't have anything when I was a child. I went hungry sometimes. I promised myself it would never happen to me." She made an awkward gesture with her shoulder. "That's why I left you, you know. You were heading into debt and I was scared. I did love you, in my way, but there was Bob and he had a lot of money and he wanted me." She smiled. "I had no choice, really."

  "I don't suppose you did." He was remembering that Dana had nothing, and she was giving him the only thing of worth in her possession, those deeds to the land, so that he wouldn't face the threat of some dangerously noisy neighbor. He could have kicked himself for letting her walk out of the house in the first place.

  "I felt sort of sorry for her," she added thoughtfully. "She isn't sophisticated, is she? She was afraid of me." Her eyebrows met. "Why won't you sleep with her?"

  He averted her eyes. "That's none of your business."

  "It is, in a way. You won't sleep with me, either. Why?"

  He grimaced. "I don't want you," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry."

  "You used to," she recalled. "You wanted me all the time. I thought it was going to kill you when I walked out."

  "It damned near did. But things have changed." His eyes were sad and quiet. "I am sorry, Betty. For your loss, for everything."

  "Bob wasn't a bad man," she said. "I was fond of him. I guess I'll miss him, in a way." She looked up. "You're sure about not wanting me?"

  He nodded.

  She sighed and smiled again. "Well, that's that. At least I'll have enough money to make ends meet, thanks to you. And I'm still young enough to make a good third marriage!"

  On that note, he said his goodbyes and went back to the motel where he'd been staying. It felt nice to have the weight of Betty's disastrous finances off his shoulders, although he'd enjoyed un­tangling the mess. Now he was going to go home and work on his own problems.

  He looked at the divorce petition and the deeds and his eyes narrowed. Dana had wasted no time at all turning over the ranch to him. He began to frown. Where was she going to live without her house?

  He picked up the phone and dialed the attorney's number, but he was told that Luke was in court on a case and couldn't be reached. Really worried now, he dialed the Mobry ranch number. It rang twice and the line was connected. He started to speak. Just as he did, a mechanical voice informed him that the number had been disconnected.

  Frustrated and worried, his next call was to his own house, where he found Tilly.

  "All right, what the hell's going on? Where did Dana go?" he demanded without preamble.

  "She wouldn't let me call you," Tilly said stiffly. "I begged, but she wouldn't budge. I gave my word. Couldn't break it."

  "Where is she?"

  "She's left," came the terse reply. "Said you had the deeds and that Joe and Ernie would keep watch over the place until you made other arrangements, but you'd have to pay them."

  "Oh, to hell with the ranch!" he snapped. "Where is she?"

  "Took a cab to the bus station. Got the bus to Houston. I don't know where she went from there."

  Hope raised its head. "Houston! Tilly, you're a wonder!"

  "There's, uh, something else. The nurse who works for Dr. Lou Coltrain is a cousin of mine. Seems Dana went to see Lou before she left town. If you don't find her pretty soon, you're going to be looking for two people instead of one," she said, and hung up.

  He stared at the telephone blankly and felt all the blood draining out of his face. Dana was pregnant? He counted back to their wedding night and realized that neither of them had even thought about precautions. His Dana was going to have a baby, and she'd left him! What an idiot he'd been!

  He called the airport. Houston was a good place to start, thanks to Tilly, who'd saved him hours of tracking. But it was a big city, and he didn't even know where to start. He cursed himself for every painful thing he'd ever said to her. It couldn't be too late to convince her how much he cared, it just couldn't!

  He soon realized how impossible it was going to be to locate Dana in Houston. She had a little money, but it would soon run out if she didn't get a job. He had to find her quickly, so he went straight to one of the better-known Houston detectives, and told him ev­erything he knew about Dana including a description.

  "Do you have a photo of your wife, Mr. Grant?" Dane Lassiter asked the man across the desk from him. A former Texas Ranger, Dane had built his agency from scratch, and now it had a fine national reputation for doing the impossible.

  The question startled Hank, who hadn't expected it. He looked uncomfortable. "No," he said.

  The other man didn't comment, but his eyes were steady and curious. No wonder, because the table behind Lassiter's desk car­ried a family photo of the detective, his attractive wife and two young sons who looked just like him.

  "We're newlyweds," Hayden felt constrained to explain. "It was a quick marriage."

  Dane didn't say a word. He was busy writing things down. "Did she run away, Mr. Grant?" he asked suddenly, and his black eyes pinned the other man.

  Hayden took a sharp, angry breath. "Yes," he said through his teeth. "I did something stupid and I deserve to lose her. But I don't think I can stand to, just the same." He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his splayed legs in a defeated position. "And she's pregnant," he added through his teeth.

  Hank's predicament sounded very familiar to Dane Lassiter. He knew all about pregnant women who ran away.

  "We'll find her," Dane told the man, not so distant now. "You've given us some good leads, we'll check them out. Where can I reach you?"

  Hayden gave the name of a local hotel. "I'll be here until I hear from you," he added, and he had the look of a man who planned to stay there until the turn of the century if that's how long it took.

  "Okay. I'll get right on it." He stood up and shook hands. "Women need a lot of tenderness. They get hurt easily, and they keep secrets," he said surprisingly. "But if it helps, you learn how to cope with it after a while."
r />   Hayden smiled. "Thanks."

  Dane shrugged. He smiled back. "I've been married a long time. Nobody starts out in paradise. You sort of have to work up to it."

  "I'll remember that. I hope I get the chance to find out first­hand."

  It took two days for Dane to track Dana to a small boarding house outside Houston. During that time, Hayden lost sleep and thought torturously of all the things that could have happened to his errant, pregnant wife. It didn't improve his temper, or his heartache.

  When Dane called, he was over the moon. He wasted no time at all getting to Mrs. Harper's Boarding House, but when he pulled up at the front steps in the Lincoln he'd rented at the airport on his arrival in Houston, he didn't know quite what to say. He stared at the big white house with longing and apprehension. His wife was in there, but she didn't want him. She'd tried to divorce him, had moved here and she'd made a good effort to erase her pres­ence from his life. She hadn't even said a word to him about her pregnancy. How did he talk to her, what did he say to cancel out all the hurts he'd dealt her?

  He got out of the car and approached the house slowly. His steps dragged, because he dreaded what was coming. He went up and rang the doorbell. A plump, smiling elderly woman opened the door.

  "May I help you?" she asked politely.

  "I'm Hayden Grant," he said in a subdued tone. "My wife lives here, I believe. Her name is Dana."

  "Miss Mobry is your wife?" she asked, puzzled. "But I'm sure she said she wasn't married."

  "She's very much married," he replied. He removed his cream-colored Stetson, belatedly, and let the hand holding it drop to his side. 'I’ld like to see her."

  She gnawed on her lip, frowning. "Well, she's not here at the moment," she said. "She went to see that new adventure movie playing at the shopping center. With Mr. Coleman, that is."

  He looked vaguely homicidal. "Who's Mr. Coleman?" he asked shortly.

  "He lives here, too," she stammered, made nervous by the black glitter of his eyes. "He's a very nice young man..."

  "Which shopping center and which movie?" he demanded.

  She told him. She didn't dare not to.

  He stomped back to his car, slammed into it and skidded on his way out the driveway.

  "Oh, dear, oh, dear," Mrs. Harper mumbled. "I wonder if I shouldn't have mentioned that David is eleven years old..."

  Sadly unaware of the age of Dana's "date," Hank drove to the shopping center, parked the car and went straight to the theater. As luck would have it, the feature was just ending, so people were pouring out of three exits. He stood, glaring, until he spotted Dana.

  She was talking to a small boy in a baseball cap, her face an­imated, smiling. His heart jumped as he watched her come out of the big building. He loved her. He hadn't known. He honestly hadn't known. His heart accelerated wildly, but his eyes began to glow from within, quiet and watchful and adoring.

  Dana was too far away to see his expression. But she spotted him at once and stopped dead in her tracks. The boy was saying something, but she wasn't listening. Her face was stark white.

  Hank approached her, alert to any sudden movement. If she tried to run, he'd have her before she got three steps.

  But she didn't run. She lifted her chin as if in preparation for battle and her hands clenched the small purse she was holding against the waist of her denim skirt.

  "Hello, Dana," he said when he was within earshot.

  She looked at him warily. "How did you find me?" she asked.

  "I didn't. A detective agency did."

  She looked paler. "I signed all the necessary papers," she told him curtly. "You're free."

  He stuck his hands deep into his pockets. "Am I?"

  Dana turned to David and handed him a five-dollar bill. "Why don't you go back in there and play the arcade machine for a minute or two while I speak to this man, David?" she asked.

  He grinned. "Sure, Miss Mobry, thanks!"

  He was off at a lope.

  "So you came with the boy, not with some other man," Hank murmured absently.

  She flushed. "As if I'd trust my own judgment about men ever again! David's mother is at work, so I offered to treat him to a movie."

  "You do like kids, don't you?" he asked, and his eyes were very soft as they fell to her waistline. "That's fortunate."

  "That isn't what I'd call it," she said stubbornly.

  He sighed. He didn't know what to say, but this certainly wasn't the ideal place to talk. "Look, suppose you go fetch the boy and we'll go back to your boarding house? Did you drive here?"

  She shook her head. "We got a city bus." She wanted to argue, but he looked as if he was going to dig his heels in. She couldn't understand why he was here, when Betty was free. Perhaps that's what he wanted to explain. She seemed to have no choice but to do as he said, for the time being, at least.

  "A city bus!" he muttered, and in her condition! But he didn't dare mention that he knew about her pregnancy. Not yet. "Get the boy," he said shortly. "I'll take you home."

  She went to find David, and Hank drove them back to the boarding house. David thanked her and deserted her. Mrs. Harper hovered, but a hard glare from Hank dispatched her soon enough.

  He closed the door behind her and sat down in the one chair in Dana's room, while she perched on the bed a little nervously.

  "Where's Betty?" she wanted to know.

  "In Corpus Christi, I guess," he said. "I'm alone."

  "You won't be alone for long," she reminded him. "You're getting married again."

  "I'm already married," he said quietly. "I have a young and very pretty wife."

  She flushed. "I divorced you."

  He shook his head. "I stopped it."

  "Why?" she asked miserably, her eyes eloquent in a face like rice paper. "You don't have to stay married to me now that she's free!"

  He winced. He reached over and touched her cheek, but she jerked away from him.

  He averted his face and stared down at the floor. "I don't want to remarry Betty."

  She stared at his averted features, unconvinced. "You've never gotten over her, Hank," she said sadly. "You said yourself that part of the reason you married me was so she wouldn't know how you'd grieved since she divorced you."

  "Maybe it was the old story of wanting what I couldn't have, or the grass being greener on the other side of the fence," he ventured.

  She drew in a long breath. "Or maybe it was just that you never stopped loving her," she added, and the eyes that searched his were wistful and sad. "Oh, Hank, we can't love to order. We have to settle for what we can have in this life." Her eyes went to the floor. "I'll go back to school and work toward my degree and I'll be happy."

  His eyes slid up to hers. "Without me?" he asked bluntly.

  She wasn't sure how much he knew. She blinked and gathered her scattered wits. "Doesn't Betty want to marry you?" she asked suspiciously.

  "More than ever," he affirmed.

  “Then what's the problem?''

  "I told you. The problem is that I don't want to marry her."

  "I don't understand," she said uneasily.

  He smiled wistfully. "I used to envy other men taking their sons on camping and fishing trips with them. I never thought I might have one of my own. But a girl would be nice, too. I guess girls can fish and hunt as well as boys can, if they're so inclined." His eyes lifted to hers. "You like to shoot, as I recall."

  "I don't like to hunt," she replied, uneasy at the way he was talking about kids. He couldn't possibly know... He shrugged. "I'll teach you to shoot skeet."

  "Okay, but I won't cook them."

  He chuckled. "Concrete won't tenderize."

  "I know what a skeet target is made of." She drew in another breath. The way he was touching her made her toes tingle. "Betty might change her mind about having a child."

  He shook his head. "And even if she did, she wouldn't want it or love it. You will. You'll want our kids and spoil them rotten if I don't watch out." His eyes
lifted. "Tilly's already looking forward to it. She's bought a food processor so she can make fresh baby food for him."

  She flushed. "She's jumping the gun."

  "No, she isn't," he said with a grin. "Tilly's kin to Dr. Lou Coltrain's office nurse."

  "Oh, my God!" she said in a burst.

  He shrugged. "So I know. The world won't end because you didn't tell me." His eyes darkened. "I'm sorry that I made it so rough on you that you didn't feel you could tell me."

  She glared at him. "I'm not going back."

  His shoulders seemed to fall. "I know I've made a lot of mis­takes," he said. "You have to make allowances. Until a couple of weeks ago, I thought I was still in love with my ex-wife. I had to get to know her again to realize that she was an illusion. The reality of Betty was pretty harsh, after you."

  "I don't understand."

  "Don't you?" He sighed. "Well, Dana, I suppose I made an idol of her after she left. The one that got away is always better than anything that's left."

  "You didn't act like someone who wasn't in love with his ex-wife," she reminded him as all the painful things he'd said to her returned in a flash off anger.

  "All it took was two weeks in Corpus Christi to cure me," he returned. He leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees and stared at the floor. "She's shallow," he said, glancing at Dana. "Shallow and selfish and spoiled. And I'd been away from her so long that I forgot. It cut the heart out of me when I realized that you went away because you thought I wanted Betty instead of you. I'm sorry for that."

  "You can't help wanting someone else..."

  "I want you, Dana," he said with a quizzical smile.

  She clasped her hands hard at her waist. "You're just making the best of it, aren't you? You know about the baby and how I feel about you and you're sorry for me."

  His heart jumped. "How you feel?" he prompted.

  "You know that I’m in love with you," she said, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "That I have been since I was seventeen."

  His heart wasn't jumping anymore, it had stopped. He barely could breathe. He certainly was robbed of speech.