Last's Temptation

by Tina Leonard

  She rolled her eyes. “Could we have a moment of seriousness?”

  He winked. “We had several moments of seriousness in the hayloft earlier. Is that why you’ve dragged me into this nice, cool stall?”

  “Last,” she said firmly, “focus. How would you feel about becoming a father?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Last stared at her, his face going ashen. Esme figured that was pretty much her answer.

  “You see,” she said sadly, “we’re probably not going to need you to wear a gorilla suit. You don’t have to join the circus or support me in this.”

  “Wait a minute,” Last said, his body tense as he stared at her. “What are we talking about here?”

  “I was talking about us.”

  He blinked. “Of course you were. But did I hear something about becoming a father? Because I already am, of course, a father, and I think—”

  “Shh,” she said, laying a finger over his lips. “I didn’t say I was pregnant. I asked how you would feel about becoming a father. To my children.” She looked at him, feeling nervous. When he still didn’t answer, she finally said, “I am truly not pregnant.”

  “Oh,” Last said. “God, you scared me.”

  If he’d shot an arrow into her heart, he couldn’t have hurt her more. “I didn’t mean to. Actually you misheard my question.”

  “Still.” Last put a hand on his chest, then rearranged his hat. “You totally pulled the trigger before we’d both paced off, magician.”

  “I guess so.” Esme turned around, walking toward the horse trailers.

  “Wait.” He followed after her, his strides longer than hers. “Can I answer the question, though?”

  “You did,” Esme said. “And I’ve always appreciated honest answers.”

  “Yeah, but like you said, I wasn’t focusing. I don’t have a proper answer to your question, so if you’re writing a thesis, the data will be skewed. Flawed. Whatever the proper terminology is.”

  She felt as if she knew the answer. He liked her. He especially liked her body. He even liked her kids, her parents and her dog. But there were fundamental differences between them that they could never overcome.

  She’d fallen in love with Last, but he wasn’t in love with her.

  “Hang on a minute, fireball,” he said, pulling her toward him. “I love being a father. I’ve always wanted a big family, just not right now. But I’m more than willing to be dad to your crew. That’s the best answer I have, if you’re interviewing me for new biological children of your own.”

  Maybe inside her that’s exactly the question she’d been asking more than anything else. Of course it was. She’d been uncomfortable that he didn’t see her as mother material to his children—and she wanted a child of her own.

  The realization hit her from nowhere and made her lose her breath for an instant. Her heart began burning, like the worst case of heartburn she could imagine. “Oh,” she said. “I think I knew your answer already.”

  “Was it what you were hoping to hear?”

  “I don’t know what I was hoping to hear,” Esme said slowly. “Scientists who compile data are not supposed to prejudice the results.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice full of regret. “You’re a work in progress, babe, and everything about you screams I may be the hottest magician on the planet but I’m also the hottest mom material known to man.”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s exactly it,” Esme said with an embarrassed laugh, “but it’s just now hit me that I do want a big family. Bigger than what I have currently. I want to be a mother.”

  He sighed. “You know, in the beginning we both wanted to be free—”

  “I know.” She waved a hand to interrupt him so he wouldn’t say another painful word. “And there’s really nothing worse than someone who won’t play by the original rules of the game.”

  He didn’t say anything. Esme wanted to fall through the sawdust on the floor and lose herself in the sifting of dust underneath. He wasn’t ready to create a family with her—and that meant he wasn’t really ready for sharing a life with her. “I think I’ll get on with my job now,” she murmured.

  “I’ll help you,” he said, but she turned away.

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” she said. “I’m sure you understand that I just need to…think.”

  And fall apart by herself.

  A moment later she heard his boots moving away from her. When she was certain he was gone, she buried her face in her favorite horse’s mane and let the hot tears flow.

  LAST FELT LIKE A LOUSE, a new species of louse so low that it was heretofore undiscovered on the planet. Esme had caught him clean off guard, and it had unnerved him for certain.

  But in his surprise, he hadn’t been very careful with her feelings. The truth was, her question hadn’t been that surprising. Everything about her screamed nurturer, mother.

  To be even more honest with himself, he hadn’t really considered becoming a father again. The thought did not usually cross his mind except in the abstract sense that he’d always wanted a big family. But starting that family right now? The thought only seemed to produce a numb response.

  He was ashamed of himself. “I have a knack for wanting more than I give back,” he said to Blood-thirsty Black, a bounty bull who seemed barely interested in his new animal companions.

  Well, there was only one thing to do in the position Last now found himself. Silently he went to help the ringmaster, doing everything he was asked to do. Where muscles were required, he worked. When coaxing was required—such as elephants into makeshift stalls—he coaxed.

  And when the newly relocated big top was fairly squared away for the night—and he knew Curtis and Amelia, Chester and the Hastings were tucked away in their beds at Delilah’s old place across the street—he got into his truck and headed back to Malfunction Junction, a sadder but wiser cowboy.

  FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS Esme helped the circus unpack. There was so much to be done! But the more she did, the less she allowed herself to think about Last, and so she determined to stay super-busy. Curtis and Amelia, while missing the ranch, loved being with their grandparents, old friends and beasts both domesticated and non.

  Slowly Esme began to realize that she had rushed her feelings. Maybe she had just wanted Last so much in a way she had never felt for anyone that she had let her emotions run too freely. Since she hadn’t heard from the hang-gliding cowboy since their last discussion in the barn, she felt pretty safe in assuming that he was feeling as though he’d escaped a noose.

  But she didn’t regret asking him how he felt about becoming a father. Ever since she had become the mother to Curtis and Amelia, joy of motherhood had begun to blossom inside her.

  She had never dreamed she’d want children.

  She loved her niece and nephew. She’d loved the idea of being a stepmom to Annette—particularly as Valentine seemed to welcome her. And then fallibility had set in.

  She had begun to dream of her own child—many children—with the handsome cowboy.

  It was best to know as soon as possible when there was no magic potent enough, no illusion canny enough, to make a dream come true.

  “Are you all right?” the ringmaster asked her as she hung her costume in her new dressing room.

  “Yes,” she said with a wry smile. “Do you think the circus will be happy here?”

  “It will be a success,” he said confidently. “I trusted your vision. In fact, I find myself liking the woman of the boardinghouse, Marvella.”

  “Oh, yes.” Marvella was Delilah Honeycutt’s sister—and Valentine’s one-time employer and nemesis and the reason Valentine had first moved to Malfunction Junction. But it seemed Marvella had become a different woman, and it wasn’t just that she’d rented out all her old rooms of ill-repute to the circus. She was an honest philanthropist. “I’m happy for you,” Esme said with a smile.

  “Jerry and Delilah are getting married,” the ringmaster said. “I hear the weddin
g will be in Union Junction. Will you go?”

  “No,” Esme said. “School starts in the fall, and that’s soon enough for me to be there.”

  “So. A teacher.” He nodded. “Good. Still, we will use you here on the weekends and in the summers.”

  It would be a good source of income. While she hadn’t intended to do circus work, Esme realized that just by accepting a dressing room—though she’d always had one with the circus—she had known she would always be a part of this. It was her home, her family, her heart, as she had tried to explain to Last. “I would love to. Thank you.”

  “Will you marry him?”

  “No,” Esme said to her friend’s abrupt question. “Last and I are compatible on many levels, but not for the final, greatest show on earth.”

  “Ah, the altar,” the ringmaster said with a grin. “Yes, it does require a special sort of magic. And courage.”

  “Definitely,” Esme said, closing the door on her wardrobe. “And we simply do not have it.”

  He nodded. “Well, you are here, so you will be fine. And Curtis and Amelia are begging me to let them name the new baby elephant, so I must give in to the spoiled condition they developed since living at the ranch.”

  She laughed. “They did get spoiled at Malfunction Junction.”

  “Well, it was obviously good for them.” The ringmaster pulled at his long mustache for a moment. “I am sorry, Esme, about the cowboy. I sense you got a bit spoiled, too. It was good for you, as well.”

  “I did.” Esme looked out her small window, cherishing the dark midnight velvet of the Texas sky. “But you know something? The best magic tricks can’t make love real if it isn’t meant to be, and hoodwinks and chicanery and optical illusions are just special effects to cover what wasn’t real to begin with. I’m okay with everything.”

  She said it, she meant it and she knew it was true. Only her heart disagreed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A week later Valentine and Annette found Last in the barn, where he was banging together some sticks and some thick cards that read Last For Sheriff. He couldn’t say he minded the company and he was always glad to see his little girl. “Hey, cutie,” he told her as she settled into the nest his lap made as he sat on the floor.

  “Last,” Valentine said, “what are you doing?”

  He looked up at her and put on a wry smile. “Hammering.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to have a committee who helps you with such things?” Valentine asked.

  “Not many people want to help either me or Mason,” he said glumly. “They’re afraid to take sides.”

  “Oh,” she said, kneeling down to grab a sign and a stick and nail them together. “I’m not afraid to take sides.”

  “Excellent,” Last said. “Did you bring me something?” He indicated the large basket she had looped over her arm. “Dinner maybe?”

  “No.” She squinted at the sign to make certain she’d lined it up correctly. “It’s cookies for Delilah and Jerry’s wedding. I’ve shipped over a wedding cake and I’m going over to put it together, but I decided the children would like some cookies.” She looked at him. “Are you going to the wedding?”

  “Actually I had forgotten it was today,” Last said, feeling a little sorry for himself. The truth was, he’d been trying not to think about Lonely Hearts Station—and Esme. He felt like a pariah or an exile, though he knew that was dumb. He was neither, and if he was, he knew why it had happened and there was nothing about it that could be changed. “I guess I should.”

  “Yes,” Valentine said. “For heaven’s sake, Last. Put away the pity soup you’ve been sipping on for the last three weeks and be happy.”

  He blinked. “Pity soup?”

  “Yes,” she said impatiently. “You are so not yourself.”

  “I know,” he said equally impatiently, “but I don’t know how to be the old me and not be the new me at the same time.”

  She cocked a brow at him, which could only mean he was going to get an earful. He held up a hand to ward off the lecture he knew was coming. “Look,” he said, “I’m fine. Really. The only soup I’ve been sipping is chicken noodle.”

  “Usually reserved for people with a problem,” she pointed out. “So spit it out.”

  “The soup?” He frowned.

  “The problem.”

  Of course it had to be the mother of his child who was giving him grief, Last thought crankily. Just about anyone else he could tell to butt out already. Sighing, he reached for a cookie out of her basket to comfort himself. “I can tell I’m going to have to have this conversation, because you didn’t slap my hand away from the cookies.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “The faster you start, the sooner we get to Lonely Hearts Station.”

  “We?”

  “Me, you and Annette.”

  “Where’s Crockett?”

  “One of many who are helping to put everything together at the rodeo circus,” Valentine said. “You are really lost if you don’t know that today is the opening day.”

  Frowning, he wondered how he’d missed all the good info. He hadn’t opened a few envelopes on his dresser in the main house, not wanting to do anything but mope. But surely one of his rude brothers could have given him a courtesy nudge.

  Valentine looked at him. “Last, let’s talk.”

  He tucked his daughter more comfortably in his lap and looked at the woman with whom he’d created the child he loved more than life itself. “Shoot.”

  Valentine took a deep breath. “Be happy.”

  He frowned. “What makes you think I’m not?” Even his conscience refused to admit he wasn’t happy. Why should he admit it to anyone else?

  “I don’t want to overstep my place,” Valentine said slowly, “but did something happen to make you not want to see Esme?”

  “I really do not want to have this discussion,” he said.

  She nodded. “I don’t, either. Trust me, it’s not easy being the one-night stand you forgot about, now trying to convince you that you might be making the biggest mistake in your life by letting another woman go. This is not exactly a conversation I foresaw myself ever having.”

  He looked at her, appreciating her honesty. “Valentine, I don’t think of you as a one-night stand. I think of you as a woman I could have fallen for if I’d been a different man. Subliminally, I knew you were a great girl, and if I’ve never apologized for my behavior that night, I want to now. You’ve given me the thing in life that makes me happiest, and for that you will always occupy a place in my heart.”

  She smiled. “Then you’ll appreciate why I want you to have what I now have with Crockett.”

  His mouth turned down. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “Of course, it would be best for Annette if both her parents were deliriously happy in life.”

  He stared at her. “It’s not fair to play the Annette card,” he said.

  “It’s just so you’ll have to admit I’m right.”

  “Perhaps,” he said sourly, “but she may have to make do with one of us being deliriously happy.”

  “Well, she could have two happy parents if one of us wasn’t determined to ride the range in his stubborn suit and mask of pride,” she said, her tone a trifle too sincere for him.

  “Valentine, I like my hair suit of stubbornness, my mask of pride and my cloak of bachelorhood,” he said. “I don’t want to wreck another woman’s life.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I guess not.” She stood and put her basket over her arm. He looked at her, perplexed. He had expected her to deny that he’d wrecked her life! And it bothered him that she didn’t. “I understand my hair suit,” he said. “It’s not a gorilla suit or a lion tamer’s costume or a ringmaster’s coat and tails, but it’s part of me and I understand it.”

  “Okay. Have some sugar. You need sweetening.” She handed him a freshly baked cookie, and he sighed as he bit into it.

  “You have no idea how comforting it is to have a female friend who doesn’t argue
with me, who doesn’t try to make me see another side. I was born not to change my ways and I’m good at it,” he said, convincing himself. “I’m so glad you’re my friend, Valentine.”

  “Well, from one friend to another, I think you’re being rude as hell to Delilah, who did a lot for all of us. I think you’re setting a bad example for your child. I think you’re being more like Mason than you care to admit and you’ll probably lose the best damn thing that ever happened to you. But if you’re bent on being a stubborn ass, who am I to wish you were otherwise? I’m no fairy godmother, after all. If you don’t want to turn that silly-ass hair suit into a groom’s coat and tails, why should I wish you had joy, a beautiful wife and family and a magical happily ever after?”

  He stared at her, his jaw dropped so far down that his mouth could have fit his boot toe into it. “Valentine Cakes Jefferson, you swore like a sailor in front of our daughter!”

  “And you’re being a hardheaded, stubborn dunce in front of her, and I can only pray if she picks up one of our bad habits, it’s my momentary lapse. Your way she ends up unhappy—now, tomorrow and for always.”

  She left the barn, leaving him with his daughter in his lap. “Dang,” he told Annette, uncovering her ears, “your mama’s got a mouth like a firecracker. Boom, boom, boom! Lighting me up like the sky on the Fourth of July.”

  Picking up Annette, he walked out after Valentine. “Mouthy women are annoying,” he said, “but I’m going to overlook it this time.”

  She shrugged as she readied Annette’s car seat in the truck. “Jerky men are annoying, and I will try to overlook this very unattractive side of you.” She looked up at him. “Strong, driven women like Esme do not like men who are indecisive.”

  He gasped. “Indecisive!”

  She faced him, not looking away from his stony gaze. “Indecisive. Equates to being wishy-washy.”

  “You really like her, don’t you?” he said, amazed.