by Tina Leonard
He swept her into his arms, giving her a kiss that sent her head spinning and her heart craving more.
“You should always come to see me,” he said. “Whether you like me or not, whether you think I should change or not, whether you think I’m a great guy or not—you should always talk to me whenever you want. Despite everything, we have this baby to raise now, and that means neither of us should stand on ceremony around each other.”
She stared up at him, loving the feeling of his strong arms around her and the intense fire in his eyes as he gazed at her.
“Do we understand each other?” he asked huskily.
“Yes,” Liberty said, pulling away, “we do.” But her body didn’t understand at all—didn’t understand why she couldn’t be in his arms forever. “Good night, Duke.”
“’Night,” he said, watching her leave as he gently patted Molly on her soft, squarish head.
So she left, a retreat of sorts, not exactly certain what had just happened between she and Duke. She wanted to go back to his office and say I love you, really I do, I’m just scared about motherhood—and a little bit of you, but her feet wouldn’t move anywhere but back toward her house.
Molly came running to walk beside her, a gold flash of fur and canine joy to be out in the September twilight. Liberty was happy to have the company until she got home.
But Molly-Jimbo wouldn’t come inside her house. “If you come in, I’ll sneak you one of Pansy’s cookies.”
The dog waved her tail and smiled up at Liberty from the porch—and then Liberty realized why. Molly’s owner was standing beneath the trees that lined the front sidewalk, watching to make certain she got home safely.
Shivers broke over her skin. “Go home, Molly,” she said softly, and the dog went running back to Duke. Tipping his hat to Liberty, he turned and walked off into the night.
Just like that. Protecting her as always. Looking after a citizen of Tulips.
Watching over his child.
Keeping Duke at arm’s length was not going to be easy, Liberty realized. She’d been kidding herself that they might be partner-parents. It was going to be his way or no way, just as it always had been. He wasn’t going to change at all. He couldn’t. He was who he was, and as much as those character traits annoyed everyone, being strong was who he was.
Part of her was beginning to admire that strength, rather than feel trapped by it.
She had never been able to deny the fact that she loved Duke—but it was getting harder every day to ignore it. And if he didn’t stop kissing her the way only Duke could kiss her, making her tingle all over and slightly crazy with desire, she was going to fall right back under his spell.
Chapter Eight
At the Triple F ranch, Pepper sat in the kitchen sketching out plans. Her brothers were gone for the moment and she had some time to hatch her thoughts, which were beginning to take shape in the few days since she’d been back to Tulips. She’d worried that Duke and Zach would pay her so much attention that she couldn’t get any real planning done, but with Liberty’s return to town, setting Duke’s life ablaze, he’d left her alone.
Pepper wasn’t the least bit interested in being anointed to Duke’s personal throne—the sheriff’s office. She had her own issues to think about, though home sweet home was never the place to come if one wanted to get away from issues.
Peace and quiet didn’t usually last long in this town.
Eventually, she was going to do her bit to add to the drama, Pepper thought, as she examined a list of empty buildings that Holt had given her. Thinking about her coming niece or nephew—she was going to be an aunt!—Pepper sighed. For a woman who’d been an undergrad at Princeton—pre-med with a business minor—then gone to med school at Tulane and finished third in her class, and who’d traveled much, she was in a tight spot.
Coming home had been the only way to pick the brambles and thorns from her conscience. Eventually, she was going to have to be as brave as Liberty had been about her circumstances.
But Duke Forrester was no Luke McGarrett—the only black knight in Pepper’s entire life. Her one mistake. Even the smartest girls could fall for the baddest boys in town, and she certainly had.
She still thought about Luke, even their last hug. Some hugs stayed in your mind and resonated forever, stubbornly reminding you of what you’d once had.
She’d heard he’d become quite the playboy, which was not exactly an evolution that surprised her.
She picked up the phone and dialed a number. Her oldest son, Toby, answered, and just hearing his voice made the crease in her heart go away. “Hi, baby,” she said.
“Hi, Mom.” He sounded happy, which brought her relief. “Found us a house yet?”
“Got a list right here.” She peered at Holt’s list. “I’ll be going to look today.”
“Cool. Josh says to tell you Aunt Jerry is wearing him out.”
Pepper laughed, knowing that was the highest of compliments from the twelve-year-old twins.
“Sorry, Mom, I have to go. Aunt Jerry’s taking us to see a movie.”
Pepper smiled. “Tell your brother I love him.”
“Ew. I’ll tell him you called. Bye, Mom!”
The phone clicked off. Pepper grinned as she hung up, feeling a twinge that she couldn’t be there with her rambunctious sons.
But of course, they were the reason she was here in Tulips. Pepper looked at the paper again, then grabbed her car keys.
As long as Liberty kept Duke busy, Pepper figured she could have all the pieces in place by February—before anyone learned what she’d been hiding all these years. To confess her secret for her own benefit wouldn’t be so difficult but it had yet to come to her how she was going to explain the boys.
Since they were the spitting image of Luke McGarrett, and people here had long memories, she knew she had to be careful. If she had their home, and hopefully her clinic, in place before she made her confession, perhaps they could hunker down for the storm.
Just the thought of Duke’s reaction made her nervous. As soon as the truth was out, someone was going to call Luke McGarrett—and the plain fact was, selfish woman that she might be, she’d loved having her boys all to herself all these years.
She wasn’t going to back down and she sure as hell wasn’t going to apologize for what she’d done—but she by golly intended to be ready for the explosion.
ZACH SAT IN AN ancient live oak tree, staring down at the ground as he took a break from sawing limbs. He turned to gaze toward the main house on the Forrester property, thinking how nice it was that Pepper had come home. Duke wasn’t around much now that Liberty had returned, and though his absence wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it was nice to have Pepper around to liven things up.
Of course, she wasn’t as lively as she’d been when they were kids. But then maybe none of them were. Zach wiped away the sweat from his forehead, thinking about the women he was taking out tonight. Two dates, he’d bragged to Duke, but the reality was they were a couple of writers from another town who were keeping his secret: He was writing a western romance, packed with all of the things that he wasn’t getting in Tulips these days. Love, sex, marriage. Not that he wanted to be married, not yet. Before that happened, he wanted to feel the thunder.
His greatest desire was to touch the flames of passion, catch lightning in a bottle.
So far, all he’d ever had was sex. Good sex, sure, but he needed to feel heat that would keep his jeans hot for weeks. He knew what he wanted, and it probably existed—somewhere—but writing about his desires was the next best thing.
He knew Duke would laugh him clean off the property if he knew.
“Duke doesn’t know how good Duke has it,” Zach said, venting his temper on a small limb. He sawed on it viciously until it fell to the ground. It was a satisfying sound, a swoosh of fulfillment, exactly what he needed to hear over and over again to keep himself from thinking about how much he coveted what his brother had.
Duke didn’t
appreciate anything. He had the girl, but he didn’t get that right. He had the office, but he was mainly just a figurehead the townspeople tiptoed around.
“I’m moving a word processor in there, when that office is mine,” Zach muttered. “Mr. Parsons is getting put in a rent house so he can quit living off the city, and I’m bulldozing the Tulips Saloon to build an elementary school.”
Another hunk of tree hit the ground after some concentrated attention from Zach’s saw, and he rocked back to survey his handiwork. He hadn’t put forth this scheme to usurp his brother, of course. In fact, being sheriff hadn’t occurred to him until the ladies had approached him about taking over Duke’s seat.
At first, he’d been troubled by the thought. Then he began to realize how much he could accomplish for the town. He had great ideas.
For once, he’d be the ambitious and innovative Forrester. After all, if the town was really to grow, they needed fewer teacups and more chalkboards. The tea parties could move to Liberty’s white gingerbread house, right next to the gingerbread houses of Helen and Pansy.
He wasn’t really being unkind, he told himself, just practical and businesslike. With change came progress.
Duke was going to be busy with Liberty and his new baby for a while, anyway. Too busy to interfere with Zach’s plans. Zach slid down from the tree and landed on the ground, looking up at the pieces of sky he could see through the new spaces of the missing tree branches.
Change was good.
“NO,” DUKE TOLD the congregation standing around his desk, “I’m quite positive everything needs to just stay as it is for a while.”
It had been a week since he’d last seen Liberty. They’d kept their distance from one another, though he’d caught a glimpse of her in church.
He suspected Liberty was taking pains to keep her distance from him, though he refused to be paranoid about it. In fact, everyone he knew was acting weird and secretive.
His nerves were beginning to twitch. He looked at Pansy and Helen, who’d dragged Holt along, and Bug. Duke wasn’t certain if Mr. Parsons was in on the conference or had just come out of his cell to see what the hubbub was about. Of course, Liberty wasn’t present.
Pansy made her appeal. “Duke, just because you have issues does not mean we can put the town’s welfare on the back burner.”
“That’s right,” Bug said. “You can make a decision, son.”
“I’m not being indecisive,” Duke said. “In fact, I’m being decisive by not making a decision. Frankly, I think it’s—” he swallowed the word dumb “—unnecessary to hold any type of big, disruptive event in Tulips. We’ll grow when we’re ready. The expense of holding a rodeo, parade, bachelorette ball or any other scheme you contrive isn’t going to bring the commerce or settlers that you want to Tulips. I don’t feel the expense is justified.”
Helen looked annoyed. “I always hate talking to men about money. They’re always so intent on being justified.”
“It was so much easier with Sheriff Widow Gaines,” Pansy said. “She didn’t balk at new ideas as much as you do, Duke.”
He sighed. “I’m not balking. Honestly, I’m not. And if you don’t like my opinion, why did you come in here to get it?”
“Because we hoped to change your mind,” Helen replied. “We hoped you’d see reason. Of course, I always forget that’s about as likely as a donkey farting roses.”
Duke blinked. “Bug, are you on their side? Do you think this rodeo is a good idea?”
“I am on no one’s side,” Bug said, making Duke think that if the man could be this politic in his marriage, maybe Mrs. Carmine wouldn’t need to trawl him home every so often. “I feel that there are many things worth considering from both points of view.”
“Well, can you split those trousers of yours any farther, Bug?” Mr. Parsons demanded. “You’re blowing in the wind like a weather vane or a politician smoking something funny.”
“I think the ladies have good points, and Duke makes fair points,” Bug said defensively, “and it’s judicious to consider all opinions. This isn’t the ‘Battle Of The Sexes.’”
They stared at him.
“Judicious?” Duke repeated.
“Well, Mr. Fair and Balanced,” Pansy said, “I’ll try to be more judicious the next time I’m baking chocolate chip cookies from scratch, alongside my famous rose-and-cranberry tea—”
“Okay, I admit it, I think the women are right,” Bug said hurriedly. “Damn it, I tried. But they always win, Duke!”
Duke sighed, realizing he was putting everyone in a bad spot, most of all Bug, probably, who just wanted as much peace in his life as possible. “Okay, that’s it. The answer is no. You want me to make a decision? I just did. The town doesn’t need to change, except organically.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Helen asked. “Organically?”
“It means,” Duke said, “from whomever should move here—not be lured here. It means we grow on our own basic fundamentals instead of forcing it.”
Pansy sighed. “Well, we’ll have a growth of one this year, then. I suppose you could do us a favor and have twins, Duke.”
“Twins?” He felt the blood drain from his face. “Mother always claimed twins ran in our family. But I’m pretty certain Liberty said there was only one baby we’re expecting.” He couldn’t handle more shocks than had already been layered on him.
“Shoot,” Holt said, “the ladies just want to have some type of social do. Can’t you bend just once?”
Duke stared at the friend he’d known since childhood, and the man who trimmed his hair on the odd occasion Duke remembered to get it done. “I don’t think so. It’s a waste of valuable resources, mainly the money that the town has in its account.”
“You know they’re eventually going to have their way,” Holt said.
“I know. They’re going to vote Party Pepper and Zach-in-the-Box into the sheriff’s position so they can have their way. But Tulips isn’t Vegas,” Duke pointed out.
“That’s it!” Bug looked around. “A casino!”
“No!” they all chorused.
“Focus on organic growth,” Duke reminded him. “From within. That’s the way the best growth happens.”
The group huddled for a minute, grumbling and whispering. Duke braced himself.
“So what about your own organic growth?” Mr. Parsons demanded. “If we have to wait nine months for every little bump in our census, can we at least be in on the process?”
“Well,” Duke said slowly, “Liberty’s busy. So I haven’t talked to her.”
“I don’t think so,” Pansy said innocently. “I saw her out weeding the garden yesterday.”
“Weeding?” Was that the woman’s version of I didn’t call because I had to wash my hair?
“If you don’t mind me saying so,” Bug said, “and I hate to break rank here—Lord, I do, it’s going to put me in a nonjudicious spot—but I put forth a motion to go around the sheriff.”
They all stared at Bug.
“Well, if we have to wait on Duke, this town will never grow,” Bug said, his arms crossed. “Son, you ain’t got any get in your git-along.”
“I second that,” Mr. Parsons said. “I take his phone messages and Liberty hasn’t called. We could all hit the time expiration on our meters of life if we wait on you, Duke. None of us are spring chickens, you know.”
“Now, wait a second, folks,” Duke said as they began filing out, “you’re supposed to be preaching the gospel of the non-heady, non-rash approach to life that elderly people advise. We’ve all been happy moving at the pace of a snail!”
They didn’t look back as they crossed the town square in unison toward the Tulips Saloon, the crucible of decisions he should probably never have given in on. “Saloon indeed,” Duke mumbled. “More like a student coffeehouse or a hotbed of unrest and politicizing. Why can’t you just be content to sit and sip tea like everyone else in your generation?” he called across to them. “Tea is excellent f
or the heart!”
They didn’t turn around, and the stained-glass and wood doors closed, leaving him on the opposite side of the street.
“Ye gods,” he muttered. “Molly!” He might as well go talk to Miss Green Thumbs, and Molly would be a great social prop.
But the dog didn’t rush to his side and when he poked his head inside his office, he realized she’d slipped past him to follow Mr. Parsons. Turning, he watched her scratch at the Tulips Saloon door. The door opened a crack, wide enough to let her flash in, and then it closed again.
He got the message. “That’s it,” he said, jamming his hat on his head. “My whole town is mutinying.”
With two choices facing him—go home and face his chores or go to Liberty’s and try to face his responsibilities—he opted for Miss Green Thumbs.
She wasn’t in the yard weeding or growing anything, so he knocked on the door, his heart knocking nearly as loud inside him. A moment later, she opened the door, though she didn’t smile when she saw it was him.
“Hi, Duke.”
He nodded, trying to act as if his heart weren’t playing a drum solo inside him. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” she said, and he walked inside, amazed at the change in her house.
“You don’t waste any time. A week ago there were boxes everywhere.”
“I don’t like clutter and disorganization.” She went into the kitchen, and he followed as she walked through into a smaller room. A wide, flat table was set up with a sewing mannequin nearby. On the table was Liberty’s wedding gown—he knew it was. Nobody had to tell him because he’d thought about how she’d looked in that gown for seven months.
So when she sat down on a stool as if he weren’t even there and picked up a seam ripper, loudly ripping out a long row of threads down the side of the gown, his hard-banging heart nearly exploded. “Liberty! What are you doing?”
She glanced up at him, her gaze steady.
“I’m taking my wedding gown apart,” she said. “I won’t be needing it anymore.”
