"He's got a world famous model on his arm," Leo pointed out.
"It didn't make a speck of difference once he saw Christabel on that dance floor with Grier. He was ready to make a scene right there." He glanced at Leo. "And he wasn't drinking," he emphasized.
"I am not jealous of Janie Brewster," Leo told him firmly.
"Tell that to Harley. He had to be persuaded not to go after you when Janie came back inside in tears," Corrigan added, letting slip what he'd overheard.
That made it worse. "Harley can mind his own damned business, too!"
"He is. He likes Janie."
"Janie's not going to fall for some wet-behind-the-ears would-be world-saver," Leo raged.
"He's kind to her. He teases her and picks at her. He treats her like a princess." He gave his brother a wry glance. "I'll bet he wouldn't try to seduce her in the rosebushes."
"I didn't! Anyway, there weren't any damned rosebushes out there."
"How do you know that?"
Leo sighed heavily. "Because if there had been, I'd be wearing them."
Corrigan chuckled. Having had his own problems with the course of true love, he could sympathize with his brother. Sadly, Leo had never been in love. He'd had crushes, he'd had brief liaisons, but there had never been a woman who could stand him on his ear. Corrigan was as fascinated as their brothers with the sudden turn of events. Leo had tolerated Janie Brewster, been amused by her, but he'd never been involved enough to start a fight with her, much less sink two large whiskeys when he hardly even touched beer.
"She's got a temper, fancy that?" Corrigan drawled.
Leo sighed. "Marilee was telling lies," he murmured. "She said Janie had started all sorts of gossip about us. I'd kissed her, and liked it, and I was feeling trapped. I thought the kiss gave her ideas. And all the time... Damn!" he ground out. "Tess knew. She told me that Marilee had made up the stories, and I wouldn't listen."
"Tess is sharp as a tack," his older brother remarked.
"I'm as dull as a used nail," Leo replied. "I don't even know when a woman is chasing me. I thought Janie was. And all the time, it was her best friend Marilee." He shook his head. "Janie said I was the most conceited man she ever met. Maybe I am." He glanced out the window at the silhouettes of buildings they passed in the dark. "She likes Harley. That would have been funny a few months ago, but he keeps impressive company these days."
"Harley's matured. Janie has, too. I thought she handled herself with dignity tonight, when she saw you with Marilee." He chuckled. "Tira would have emptied the punch bowl over her head," he mused, remembering his redheaded sister-in-law's temper.
"Simon would have been outraged," he added. "He hates scenes. You're a lot like him," he said unexpectedly, glancing at the younger man. "You can cut up, but you're as somber as a judge when you're not around us. Especially since we've all married."
"I'm lonely," Leo said simply. "I've had the house to myself since Rey married Meredith and moved out, almost a year ago. Mrs. Lewis retired. I've got no biscuits, no company..."
"You've got Marilee," he was reminded.
"Marilee sprained her wrist. She's needed me to drive her places," Leo said drowsily.
"Marilee could drive with one hand. I drove with a broken arm once."
Leo didn't respond. They were driving up to the main ranch house, into the driveway that made a semicircle around the front steps. The security lights were on, so was the porch light. But even with lights on in the front rooms of the sprawling brick house, it looked empty.
"You could come and stay with any of us, whenever you wanted to," Corrigan reminded him. "We only live a few miles apart."
"You've all got families. Children. Well, except Meredith and Rey."
"They're not in a hurry. Rey's the youngest. The rest of us are feeling our ages a bit more."
"Hell," Leo growled, "you're only two years older than me."
"You're thirty-five," he was reminded. "I'll be thirty-eight in a couple of months."
"You don't look it."
"Dorie and the babies keep me young," Corrigan admitted with a warm smile. "Marriage isn't as bad as you think it is. You have someone to cook for you, a companion to share your sorrows when the world hits you in the head, and your triumphs when you punch back. Not to mention having a warm bed at night"
Leo opened the door but hesitated. "I don't want to get married."
Corrigan's pale eyes narrowed. "Dorie was just a little younger than Janie when I said the same thing to her. I mistook her for an experienced woman, made a very heavy pass, and then said some insulting things to her when she pulled back at the last minute. I sent her running for the nearest bus, and my pride stopped me from carrying her right back off it again. She went away. It was eight long years before she came home, before I was able to start over with her." His face hardened. "You know what those years were like for me."
Leo did. It was painful even to recall them. "You never told me why she left."
Corrigan rested his arm over the steering wheel. "She left because I behaved like an idiot." He glanced at his brother. "I don't give a damn what Marilee's told you about Janie, she isn't any more experienced than Dorie was. Don't follow in my footsteps."
Leo wouldn't meet the older man's eyes. "Janie's a kid."
"She'll grow up. She's making a nice start, already."
Leo brushed back his thick, unruly hair. "I was way out of line with her tonight. She said she never wanted to see me again."
"Give her time."
"I don't care if she doesn't want to see me," Leo said belligerently. "What the hell do I want with a mud-covered little tomboy, anyway? She can't even cook!"
"Neither can Tira," Corrigan pointed out. "But she's a knockout in an evening gown. So is our Janie, even if she isn't as pretty as Marilee."
Leo shrugged. "Marilee's lost a good friend."
"She has. Janie won't ever trust her again, even if she can forgive her someday."
Leo glanced back at his older brother. "Isn't it amazing how easy it is to screw up your whole life in a few unguarded minutes?"
"That's life, compadre. I've got to go. You going to be okay?"
Leo nodded. "Thanks for the ride." He glowered at Corrigan. "I guess you're in a hurry to get back, right?"
Corrigan's eyes twinkled. "I don't want to miss the last dance!"
Or the chance to tell his brothers everything that had happened. But, what the hell, they were family.
"Drive safely," Leo told Corrigan as he closed the car door.
"I always do." Corrigan threw up his hand and drove away.
Leo disarmed the alarm system and unlocked the front door, pausing to relock it and rearm the system. He'd been the victim of a mugging last October in Houston, and it had been Rey's new wife, Meredith, who had saved him from no worse than a concussion. But now he knew what it was to be a victim of violent crime, and he was much more cautious than he'd ever been before.
He tossed his keys on his chest of drawers and took off his jacket and shoes. Before he could manage the rest, he passed out on his own bed.
Janie Brewster was very quiet on the way home. Harley understood why. He and Janie weren't an item, but he hated seeing a woman cry. He'd wanted, very badly, to punch Leo Hart for that.
"You should have let me hit him, Janie," he remarked thoughtfully.
She gave him a sad little smile. "There's been enough gossip already, although I appreciate the thought."
"He was drinking pretty heavily," Harley added. "I noticed that one of his brothers took him and Marilee home early. Nice of him to find a designated driver, in that condition. He looked as if he was barely able to walk without staggering."
Janie had seen them leave, with mixed emotions. She turned her small evening bag in her lap. "I didn't know he drank hard liquor at all."
"He doesn't," Harley replied. "Eb Scott said that he'd never known Leo to take anything harder than a beer in company." He glanced at her. "That m
ust have been some mixer you had with him."
"He'd been drinking before we argued," she replied. She looked out the darkened window. "Odd that Marilee left with him."
"You didn't see the women snub her, I guess," he murmured. "Served her right, I thought." His eyes narrowed angrily as he made the turn that led to her father's ranch. "It's low to stab a friend in the back like that. Whatever her feelings for Hart, she should have put your feelings first."
"I thought you liked her, Harley."
He stiffened. "I asked her out once, and she laughed."
"What?"
He stared straight ahead at the road, the center of which was lit by the powerful headlights of the truck he was driving. "She thought it was hilarious that I had the nerve to ask her to go on a date. She said I was too immature."
Ouch, she thought. A man like Harley would have too much pride to ever go near a woman who'd dented his ego that badly.
He let out a breath. "The hell of it is, she was right," he conceded with a wry smile. "I had my head in the clouds, bragging about my mercenary training. Then I went up against Lopez with Eb and Cy and Micah." He grimaced. "I didn't have a clue."
"We heard that it was a firefight."
He nodded. His eyes were haunted. "My only experience of combat was movies and television." His lean hands gripped the wheel hard. "The real thing is less...comfortable. And that's all I'll say."
"Thank you for taking me to the ball," she said, changing the subject because he'd looked so tormented.
His face relaxing, he glanced at her. "It was my pleasure. I'm not ready to settle down, but I like you. Anytime you're at a loose end, we can see a movie or get a burger."
She chuckled. "I feel the same way. Thanks."
He pursed his lips and gave her a teasing glance. "We could even go dancing."
"I liked waltzing."
"I want to learn those Latin dances, like Caldwell and Grier." He whistled. "Imagine Grier doing Latin dances! Even Caldwell stood back and stared."
"Mr. Grier is a conundrum," she murmured. "Not the man he seems, on the surface."
"How would you know?" he asked.
She cleared her throat. "He stopped me for speeding out on the Victoria road."
"Good for him. You drive too fast."
"Don't you start!"
He frowned. "What was he doing out there? He doesn't have jurisdiction outside Jacobsville."
"I don't know. But he's very pleasant."
He hesitated. "There's some, shall we say, unsavory gossip about him around town," he told her.
"Unsavory, how?" she asked, curious.
"It's probably just talk."
"Harley!"
He slowed for a turn. "They say he was a government assassin at one point in his life."
She whistled softly. "You're kidding!"
He glanced at her. "When I was in the Rangers, I flew overseas with a guy who was dressed all in black, armed to the teeth. He didn't say a word to the rest of us. I learned later that he was brought over for a very select assignment with the British commandos."
"What has that got to do with Grier?"
"That's just the thing. I think it was Grier."
She felt cold chills running up her arms.
"It was several years ago," he reiterated, "and I didn't get a close look, but sometimes you can tell a man just by the way he walks, the way he carries himself."
"You shouldn't tell anybody," she murmured, uneasy, because she liked Grier.
"I never would," Harley assured her. "I told my boss, but nobody else. Grier isn't the sort of man you'd ever gossip about, even if half the things they tell are true."
"There's more?" she exclaimed.
He chuckled. "He was in the Middle East helping pinpoint the laser-guided bombs, he broke up a spy ring in Manhattan as a company agent, he fought with the freedom fighters in Afghanistan, he foiled an assassination attempt against one of our own leaders under the nose of the agency assigned to protect them...you name it, he's done it. Including a stint with the Texas Rangers and a long career in law enforcement between overseas work."
"A very interesting man," she mused.
"And intimidating to our local law enforcement guys. Interesting that Judd Dunn isn't afraid of him."
"He's protective of Christabel," Janie told him. "She's sweet. She was in my high school graduating class."
"Judd's too old for her," Harley drawled. "He's about Leo Hart's age, isn't he, and she's just a few months older than you."
He was insinuating that Leo was too old for her. He was probably right, but it hurt to hear someone say it. Nor was she going to admit something else she knew about Christabel, that Judd had married the girl when she was just sixteen so that she wouldn't lose her home. Christabel was twenty-one and Judd had become her worst enemy.
"Sorry," Harley said when he noticed her brooding expression.
"About what?" she asked, diverted.
"I guess you think I meant Leo Hart's too old for you."
"He is," she said flatly.
He looked as if he meant to say more, but the sad expression on her face stopped him. He pulled into her driveway and didn't say another word until he stopped the truck at her front door.
"I know how you feel about the guy, Janie," he said then. "But you can want something too much. Hart isn't a marrying man, even if his brothers were. He's a bad risk."
She turned to face him, her eyes wide and eloquent. "I've told myself that a hundred times. Maybe it will sink in."
He grimaced. He traced a pattern on her cheek with a lean forefinger. "For what it's worth, I'm no stranger to unreturned feelings." He grimaced. "Maybe some of us just don't have the knack for romance."
"Speak for yourself," she said haughtily. "I have the makings of a Don Juanette, as Leo Hart is about to discover!"
He tapped her cheek gently. "Stop that. Running wild won't change anything, except to make you more miserable than you are."
She drew in a long breath. "You're right, of course. Oh, Harley, why can't we make people love us back?"
"Wish I knew," he said. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I had fun. I'm sorry you didn't."
She smiled. "I did have fun. At least I didn't end up at the ball by myself, or with Dad, to face Leo and Marilee."
He nodded, understanding. "Where is your dad?"
"Denver," she replied on a sigh. "He's trying to interest a combine in investing in the ranch, but you can't tell anybody."
He scowled. "I didn't realize things were that bad."
She nodded. "They're pretty bad. Losing his prize bull was a huge financial blow. If Leo hadn't loaned him that breeding bull, I don't know what we'd have done. At least he likes Dad," she added softly.
It was Harley's opinion that he liked Fred Brewster's daughter, too, or he wouldn't have been putting away whiskey like that tonight. But he didn't say it.
"Can I help?" he asked instead.
She smiled at him. "You're so sweet, Harley. Thanks. But there's not much we can do without a huge grubstake. So," she added heavily, "I'm going to give up school and get a job."
"Janie!"
"College is expensive," she said simply. "Dad can't really afford it right now, and I'm not going to ask him to try. There's a job going at Shea's..."
"You can't work at Shea's!" Harley exclaimed. "Janie, it's a roadhouse! They serve liquor, and most nights there's a fight."
"They serve pizza and sandwiches, as well, and that's what the job entails," she replied. "I can handle it."
It disturbed Harley to think of an innocent, sweet girl like Janie in that environment. "There are openings at fast-food joints in town," he said.
"You don't get good tips at fast-food joints. Stop while you're ahead, Harley, you won't change my mind," she said gently.
"If you take the job, I'll stop in and check on you from time to time," he promised.
"You're a sweetheart, Harley," she said
, and meant it. She kissed him on the cheek, smiled, and got out of the cab. "Thanks for taking me to the ball!"
"No sweat, Cinderella," he said with a grin. "I enjoyed it, too. Good night!"
"Good night," she called back.
She went inside slowly, locking the door behind her. Her steps dragging, she felt ten years older. It had been a real bust of an evening all around. She thought about Leo Hart and she hoped he had the king of hangovers the next morning!
The next day, Janie approached the manager of Shea's, a nice, personable man named Jed Duncan, about the job.
He read over her resume while she sat in a leather chair across from his desk and bit her fingernails.
"Two years of college," he mused. "Impressive." His dark eyes met hers over the pages. "And you want to work in a bar?"
"Let me level with you," she said earnestly. "We're in financial trouble. My father can't afford to send me back to school, and I won't stand by and let him sink without trying to help. This job doesn't pay much, but the tips are great, from what Debbie Connor told me."
Debbie was her predecessor, and had told her about the job in the first place. Be honest with Jed, she'd advised, and lay it on the line about money. So Janie did.
He nodded slowly, studying her. "The tips are great," he agreed. "But the customers can get rowdy. Forgive me for being blunt, Miss Brewster, but you've had a sheltered upbringing. I have to keep a bouncer here now, ever since Calhoun Ballenger had it out with a customer over his ward—now his wife—and busted up the place. Not that Calhoun wasn't in the right," he added quickly. "But it became obvious that hot tempers and liquor don't mix, and you can't run a roadhouse on good intentions."
She swallowed. "I can get used to anything, Mr. Duncan. I would really like this job."
"Can you cook?"
She grinned. "Two months ago, I couldn't. But I can now. I can even make biscuits!"
He chuckled. "Okay, then, you should be able to make a pizza. We'll agree that you can work for two weeks and we'll see how it goes. You'll waitress and do some cooking. If you can cope, I'll let you stay. If not, or if you don't like the work, we'll call it quits. That suit you?"
She nodded. "It suits me very well. Thank you!"
"Does your father know about this?" he added.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 314
