Tall, Dark and Dangerous Vol 1: Tall, Dark and FearlessTall, Dark and Devastating

by Suzanne Brockmann

  Cowboy paused before picking up the pen. His accent wasn’t that obvious. “You have a good ear, ma’am.”

  “That was a question, young man,” she told him sternly. “I was asking. But you are, aren’t you? You’re that sailor from Texas.”

  Another elderly woman, this one as round and short as the other was tall and narrow, came out of the back room.

  “Oh, my,” she said, stopping short at the sight of him. “It’s him, isn’t it? Melody’s Navy fellow.”

  “He wants to stay the night, Peggy,” the stern-faced woman intoned, disapproval thickening her voice. “I’m not sure I want his type in our establishment. Having all kinds of rowdy parties. Getting all of the local girls pregnant.”

  All of the…?

  “Hannah Shelton called to say he just bought a diamond ring at Front Street Jeweler’s,” the round lady—Peggy—said. “On credit.”

  Both women turned to look at him.

  “About time,” the tall one sniffed.

  “Did he give it to her?” Peggy wondered.

  It was odd—the way they talked about him as if he weren’t there, even as they stood staring directly at him.

  He decided the best course would simply be to ignore their comments. “I’d like a room with a telephone, if possible,” he said as he filled out the registration form. “I need to make some out-of-state calls. I have a calling card, of course.”

  “None of our rooms have private phones,” the tall lady informed him.

  “Our guests are welcome to use the lobby phone.” Peggy gestured across the room toward an antique sideboard upon which sat an equally antique-looking rotary phone.

  The lobby phone. Of course. God forbid a conversation go on in this building that Peggy and the bird lady not know about. “You did buy it as an engagement ring, didn’t you?” the tall woman asked, narrowing her eyes, finally confronting him directly. “With the intention of giving it to Melody Evans?”

  Cowboy tried his best to be pleasant. “That’s private business between Ms. Evans and me.”

  “Thank God, Lieutenant! You’re still here!” Brittany came bursting through the inn’s lobby door. “I have to talk to you.”

  “It’s Brittany Evans.” Peggy stated the obvious to her dour-faced companion.

  “I can see that. She wants to talk to the sailor.”

  “Do you have a few minutes?” Mel’s sister asked Cowboy.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Although I’m not sure if the Spanish Inquisition has finished with me.”

  She laughed, and he could see traces of Melody in her face. The wave of longing that hit him was overpowering. Why couldn’t this have been easy? Why couldn’t he have arrived in Appleton to find Melody happy to see him—and not seven months pregnant?

  But “why couldn’t” scenarios were of no help to him now. He couldn’t change the past—that wasn’t in his control. And difficult as it seemed, he somehow had to change Mel’s mind. He had to make her see that they really only had one choice here.

  As he’d walked away with that diamond ring still in his pocket, it occurred to him that he’d been taking the wrong tack. He shouldn’t have tried to argue with Melody. He should’ve spent all of his energy sweet-talking her instead. He should’ve tried to seduce his way back into her life.

  Yeah, sure, great sex probably wasn’t enough to base a long-term relationship on. But great sex combined with a soon-to-be-born baby were grounds for a definite start.

  Brittany turned to the two old ladies, fixing them with a pointed finger and a glare. “Peggy. Estelle. If either one of you breathes so much as a word about the fact that I came here to talk to Lieutenant Jones, and my sister hears about it, I swear I will take my chain saw to your rosebushes. Is that understood?”

  Estelle didn’t seem convinced, lifting her hawklike nose in the air. “She’d never do it.”

  Peggy wasn’t quite so certain. “She might.”

  Brittany grabbed Cowboy’s arm. “Come on, Lieutenant. Let’s take a walk.”

  He scooped his duffel bag off the floor and followed her out into the early-evening dusk.

  There was a chill in the air as the sun dipped below the horizon. After weeks of unseasonably warm weather, autumn was definitely on its way.

  Melody’s sister marched in silence until they were a good fifty feet away from the front porch of the inn. At that point, Cowboy ventured to speak. “I doubt they can hear us from this distance. Although I suppose they could be tracking us via some KH-12 SATCOM.” At her frown of confusion, he explained, “Spy satellite. It’d be right up their alley.”

  Brittany laughed, rolling her eyes and crossing the street, taking them onto the town common. “God, I can just picture Peggy and Estelle down in some high-tech studio in their basement, with little headsets on over their purple hair, gleefully monitoring the private conversations going on all over town.”

  “Seems they do pretty well all by themselves. In fact, they could probably teach the staff at NAVINTEL a thing or two about information gathering.”

  Appleton was a perfect little New England town, complete with eighteenth-century clapboard houses that surrounded a picture-perfect, rectangular-shaped common. The common was covered with thick green grass and crisscrossed with sidewalks. Benches and stately trees were scattered here and there. Brittany led the way toward one of the benches.

  “This town has a gossip network like you wouldn’t believe. We’ve got the highest busybody per capita ratio in the entire state.”

  Cowboy swore softly. “That must’ve been really tough on Melody—I mean, when her pregnancy started to show. There was probably a lot of talk.”

  “Actually, she didn’t give anyone a chance to talk. Come on, let’s sit. I’ve been on my feet, running all day.” Brittany sank onto the white-painted bench, and Cowboy sat beside her.

  From a playground, way down at the other end of the green, he could hear the sounds of children laughing. Someday his kid would play there. His kid. He felt a cold streak of fear run down his spine. How could he have a kid? He wasn’t ready to stop being a kid himself.

  “Melody went all the way into the city to buy a home pregnancy test,” Brittany continued. “She knew if she bought it here in town, word would’ve been out within two minutes of leaving the store. When the test turned up positive, she didn’t have to think for very long before deciding that an abortion wasn’t the right choice for her. And giving the child up for adoption was also out of the question. So there she was, pregnant, about to be a single mother. She realized that sooner or later her condition was going to be obvious to the entire town, so she…”

  She broke off, chuckling and shaking her head. “I’m sorry—I still can’t quite believe she did this. But my little sister crashed one of Estelle Warner’s Ladies’ Club meetings. The Ladies’ Club is really just a cover name for Gossipers Anonymous. I usually don’t go—Estelle and I aren’t exactly friends—but I was there that day, drumming up support for the hospital’s AIDS awareness program.

  “At first I thought Melody was there to give me support, but when Hazel Parks opened the floor for new topics of discussion, Mel stood up. She cleared her throat and said, ‘I would like you all to know that I have no intention of getting married, but I am, however, two months pregnant.’ She didn’t even give anyone time to gasp in shock. She just kept going. She gave ’em the facts—that you were the father and that she intended to keep the baby.”

  “She stood there,” Brittany went on, “looking all those gossipmongers in the eye, and offered to answer any questions they might have about her condition and her plans. She even passed around a picture of you.”

  Cowboy shook his head in admiration. “She told them the truth. And once the truth was out, no one could speculate.” He paused. “God, I wish she’d told me, too. I wish…”

  He should’ve called her at the beginning of the summer. He should have swallowed his pride a whole hell of a lot sooner and picked up the phone. He should have be
en there. He should have known right from the start.

  “Although Estelle and Peggy pretend to disapprove, I’ve got to admit even they’ve been pretty supportive. They even threw Mel a baby shower that the entire Ladies’ Club turned out for.” Brittany gazed at him. “There’s been some talk, but not a lot. And most of it’s concerned you.”

  Cowboy sighed. “And here I am, showing up in town, throwing the gossip squad into an uproar. No wonder Melody wanted me to leave as quickly as possible. I’m just making things worse for her, aren’t I?”

  “I heard what you said to my sister this evening out on the porch,” Brittany said baldly. “And I heard what she said to you, about not needing you. Don’t you believe her for a second, Lieutenant. She pretends to be so tough and resilient. But I know better.

  “She’s been depressed and unhappy ever since she came back from Paris,” Brittany told him. “And she may believe with all of her heart that marrying you won’t make her any happier, but I’ve got to tell you, today in the hospital, I watched her when she looked at you. And for the first time in more than half a year, she actually seemed alive again. Don’t let her chase you away, Lieutenant.”

  Cowboy looked at the woman sitting next to him and smiled. “I wasn’t about to go anywhere. In fact, I was planning to knock on your door again first thing in the morning.”

  Brittany took a deep breath. “Good. Okay. I’ll plan not to be home.”

  “And, by the way, since I’m getting a strong hint here that we’re allies, you should know that my friends call me Cowboy.”

  She lifted one eyebrow. “Cowboy. Is that because you’re from Texas or because you’re some kind of hotshot?”

  “A little of each.”

  Brittany laughed. “Doesn’t it figure? Somehow I always imagined Melody spending the rest of her life with an accountant—not one of the X-Men.”

  Cowboy smiled ruefully. He wished he could feel as certain that Melody was going to see things his way. And despite his belief that getting married was the only solution, he wished that the thought of vowing to remain faithful and true to one woman for the rest of his life didn’t scare him half to death.

  He’d been so enchanted by Melody that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her those months they’d been apart. He’d loved making love to her. But she was right. He hadn’t come all the way to Appleton to pledge his undying love. He’d come to renew their affair. He’d come to have sex, not to get married.

  But now he had to convince Mel to marry him.

  That would be hard enough to do even if he didn’t have his own doubts and fears. And he was running out of time. His leave was up at 0900 Monday morning.

  Cowboy closed his eyes at the sheer impossibility of this situation. Compared to this mess, a hostage rescue was a piece of cake.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MELODY WAS A hostage in her own home.

  Of course, she was a hostage to her own stupidity and foolishness, but knowing that didn’t make it any better. In fact, it made it worse.

  Cowboy Jones had been sitting out on her front porch for more than two hours now. He’d rung her doorbell while she was getting dressed to go to the late service at the Congregational Church. She’d wrapped her robe around herself and rushed into Brittany’s room, intending to beg her sister to tell him she wasn’t home.

  But Brittany’s bed was neatly made. She was long gone. There was a note on the kitchen table saying that she’d forgotten to tell Melody, but she’d promised to work a friend’s shift at the hospital. She wouldn’t be home until late.

  So Melody had hidden from Jones. She’d taken the chicken’s way out and she hadn’t answered the door at all. And Jones had made himself comfortable out on the porch, apparently determined to wait all day for her to come back home.

  So if she went out now, she’d be forced to admit that she truly had been home all this time. Assuming, of course, that he didn’t already know that.

  She tried to catch up on her reading, tried not to let herself be unnerved by the fact that this man she had shared such intimacies with was sitting within shouting distance. She tried to convince herself that those twinges of frustration and longing she felt were the result of her being unable to work in her garden. She’d planned to spend the afternoon out in the sunshine and fresh air.

  Instead, she was here. Locked inside her house.

  Melody slowly opened the window in the room she was making into a nursery, careful not to make any noise. It was a glorious day—cool and crisp. She pressed her nose to the screen and took a deep breath.

  There was no way she could possibly have caught a whiff of Harlan Jones’s hauntingly familiar and utterly masculine scent, was there? Of course not. Not all the way up here on the third floor. She was imagining things. She was remembering—

  “Hey.”

  The sound of a voice in the yard made her jump back, away from the window. But it was only Andy Marshall, crossing over from the Romanellas’ yard.

  “That’s not an Army uniform, is it?” He wasn’t talking to her. He hadn’t even seen her, and she moved closer to the window to peer down at the boy. “My old man’s in the Army.”

  “I’m Navy,” Jones replied from beneath the roof of the porch.

  “Oh.” There was disappointment in Andy’s voice. “Then I guess you don’t know my father.”

  “I guess not.” Jones sounded sleepy, his Western drawl more pronounced. Melody could picture him sitting back in one of her lounge chairs, feet up and eyes half-closed, like a lion sunning himself. Relaxed, but dangerously aware of everything going on around him.

  “Looks pretty damn uncomfortable, buttoned all the way up like that,” Andy commented.

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Yeah, well, you look like a monkey. You’d never get me into one of those things, not in a million years.”

  “Probably not. Only the smartest, toughest and strongest men get into the SEAL teams. You probably wouldn’t come close.”

  Out on the lawn, Andy took a step back. “The hell with you.”

  Jones yawned. “The hell with you, too. If you don’t want to be insulted, don’t insult me. But the fact is, SEAL training is tough. Most guys don’t have what it takes and they end up dropping out of the program. They run away—the way you did yesterday.”

  Melody winced. Ouch. Jones wasn’t pulling his punches.

  “And you’re like some kind of god, right?” Andy bristled with outrage. “Because you made it through?”

  Jones laughed. “That’s right. My pay grade is O-3, but my rank is God. Anytime you feel like it, just go right ahead and grovel and bow down to my magnificence. And if you don’t believe me, go to the library and read anything you can get your hands on about BUD/S—the SEAL training program. Of course, in your case, you’re probably going to have to learn to read first.”

  Melody watched Andy, certain that he was going to turn and run away. But to her surprise, the boy laughed and sat down on the steps leading up to the porch.

  “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?” he retorted.

  “Hey, I’m a god—I don’t need to be funny. The mortals laugh even when I make a bad joke.”

  “Is it really that tough—you know, the training?”

  “It’s insane,” Jones said. “But you know what I learned from doing it?”

  “What?”

  “I can do anything.” Jones paused and Melody could picture his smile. “There’s no job that’s too tough. There’s no task that’s impossible. If I can’t climb over it, I’ll swim around it. If I can’t swim around it, I’ll blow the damn thing up and wade through the rubble.”

  Melody closed her eyes. Jones had already done the very same thing to her life. He’d blown it up and now was wading through the rubble.

  “So you’re the guy who knocked up Melody Evans, huh?” Andy asked.

  Jones was silent for several long seconds. And when he spoke, there wasn’t even the slightest trace of amusement
or laughter in his voice. “You want to rephrase that question so that I’m certain you meant absolutely no disrespect to the woman I intend to marry? You can dis me all you want, but don’t you ever, ever dis Melody. Not behind her back and not to her face. Do you read what I’m saying?”

  “But she doesn’t want you around.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “So why are you even bothering?” Andy asked. “You should be grateful and leave while you’ve got the chance. That’s what my father did. He left before I was born even. I’ve never met him, you know. The closest I’ve ever gotten to him is this stupid watch.”

  Andy’s watch. Melody remembered how carefully he’d checked it after fighting with Alex Parks in the playground. That had been his father’s watch. She had guessed it was important to him in some way.

  Jones’s voice was quiet. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, you know, he probably had things to do. My mother told me he was stationed overseas and she didn’t want to go. He didn’t have a choice, though. When you’re in the Army, you’ve got to go where you’re sent. You don’t have a lot of extra time to spend on having kids.” His words were almost recited—as if this was something he’d said over and over in an attempt to justify his father’s actions.

  Jones was silent, and Melody knew that he didn’t want to say anything that would contradict Andy.

  But then Andy himself laughed—a scornful expulsion of air. “Yeah, right. I don’t know why I’m sticking up for him. Like he didn’t run to get away from us.”

  Melody’s heart broke for the boy. He was at the age where he was starting to doubt the fairy tales his mother had told him. He still knew all the words, but he was starting to see through them to the truth beneath the surface.

  It was a moment before either Jones or Andy spoke again.

  “Melody’s home, you know,” Andy finally said. “Her car’s in the garage.”

  “I know.”

  Melody closed her eyes. Jones knew.