A day ago Elizabeth would have sworn that her life was complete. She would have laughed at the thought that a sixty-seven-year-old woman’s pulse could flutter at the mere sound of a man’s voice. Gracious, the last time her heart had pumped this fast, she’d been on a dance floor doing a pretty spirited tango with a man wearing a polyester suit and too much shaving cologne.
She tried to imagine Brandon Halloran in polyester and couldn’t. Cashmere or the finest linen would be more his style. She could recall, all too vividly it seemed, the way his skin had felt beneath her nervous touch. She absentmindedly picked up a magazine and fanned herself, then realized what she was doing.
“Elizabeth, you’re an old fool,” she lectured herself aloud. “What do you think you’re doing dredging up thoughts like that? Your daughters would be shocked.”
Of course, the subconscious wasn’t nearly as easily controlled as she might have liked. She deliberately walked away from the off-the-hook phone, hoping she could forget all about the long-buried memories Brandon had just stirred to life, memories she had done her very best to forget.
Some, admittedly, were sweet and filled with a rare tenderness. Some were wildly wicked, which certainly explained the way her pulse was thundering. And others, the ones she needed most to remember, were filled with hurt and anger and a deep sense of betrayal.
Nearly fifty years ago Brandon Halloran had roared into her life, swept her off her feet and then vanished, leaving her to suffer the consequences of a broken heart. He had no right to think he could do the same thing again, not at this late date. Not even one word of apology had crossed his lips. Instead, the conversation had been laced with persuasive teasing, riddled with nostalgia. She was no longer a naive seventeen-year-old. She wouldn’t give in to the smooth and easy charm a second time.
Elizabeth felt the anger mount and clung to it gratefully. As long as she felt like this, she would be able to remain strong. She would be able to deny whatever pleas Brandon made. She could ignore his coaxing, as she should have done so long ago.
Still and all, she wondered just a little about how he’d changed. Was he still as handsome and dashing? Back then he’d had a smile that could charm the birds out of the trees. It had certainly worked its magic on her. He’d walked and talked with an air of bold confidence. He’d had unruly blond hair that had felt like the silk that was spun in his factory. His piercing eyes had been the color of the ocean at its deepest—blue and mysterious. When his eyes lit with laughter—or desire—she’d been sure that what they shared was rare and certainly forever.
Believing all that, Elizabeth had been tumbled back to reality with an abruptness that had shattered her. Only by the grace of God and through the love of her parents had she been able to pick up the pieces of her life and move on. David Newton had played a huge role in that as well.
Her senior by ten years, David had been a fine man, tolerant and sensitive. And he had loved her unconditionally and without restraint. She owed him her thanks for seeing to it that she finished college, that she was able to enter a profession that had been more fulfilling each year. More than that, she owed him for giving her the very best years of her life, while asking so little for himself in return. She’d been content with their bargain, happy with the life they’d shared. Maybe there had been no glorious highs, but there had never been the devastating lows she’d known with Brandon.
Unlike David, Brandon Halloran had demanded everything and had very nearly cheated her of any future at all.
The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Suddenly realizing that she’d been sitting here in the dark for hours, she snapped on a light on her way to the door. When she opened it, she found Kate, flanked by Ellen and the youngest of Ellen’s girls, fifteen-year-old Penny.
“Goodness, what a surprise!” she said, delighted by the distraction their arrival promised.
“Surprise?” Kate repeated, sounding miffed. “Mother, your phone has been off the hook for the past three hours.” She marched into the living room and hung it up. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Kate’s been worried,” Ellen corrected. “We just came along as moral support. She said it was us or the police.”
Elizabeth managed an astonishingly casual air, hoping to forestall too many questions. “Well, as you can see, I am perfectly fine. The cat must have knocked the receiver off when she jumped on the table. It’s not the first time that’s happened,” she said, because she was not about to tell them about Brandon’s call and the way it had shaken her.
Ellen regarded her speculatively, as if she could almost read her mother’s thoughts.
“Mother, are you sure you’re all right?” her oldest asked quietly.
“Certainly. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just that you look, I don’t know, a little flustered. I’ve never seen you look quite that way before.”
Her granddaughter peered at her closely. “Mom’s right,” Penny announced. “Are you sure you don’t have some man stashed away upstairs?”
“Penny!” Ellen said sharply.
“Oh, Mom, don’t act so shocked. Sex doesn’t end just because you’re over sixty.”
“And just where did you hear that?” Elizabeth inquired, tucking an arm around her granddaughter’s waist and steering her into the kitchen.
“It was in my health class. I could lend you the book, if you want.”
“Penny!” Ellen exclaimed again with obvious dismay.
Elizabeth shot a grin at her daughter. “Chill out, Ellen.” She turned to Penny. “That is the expression, isn’t it?”
Ellen groaned. Kate looked from one to the other of them, her hands on her hips, her expression radiating indignation. “Well, I’m delighted you all find this so amusing.”
Tension seemed to simmer in the air until Ellen gave her sister a hug. “Oh, come on, Katie dearest. Chill out. As you can perfectly well see, Mother’s just fine. You were worried over nothing. You should be relieved.”
“Why don’t I fix us all some hot chocolate?” Elizabeth suggested. “The air’s a bit damp tonight, don’t you think?”
“Lace mine with brandy,” Kate muttered, regarding the rest of them with a sour expression.
Elizabeth looked at her too-serious younger daughter and sighed. “I’m sorry you were worried, dear. I really am.”
Some of the tension in Kate’s shoulders eased. Finally she grinned. “Oh, what the hell. Let’s go whole hog and order in a pizza, too. It’s after nine and I just left the office. I missed dinner altogether.”
“Now that’s the spirit,” Elizabeth said, noting that despite the long day Kate looked neat as a pin, every dark hair in place. What a contrast to Ellen’s careless sandy hairstyle. “A large pizza with everything. I haven’t eaten, either.”
“Everything except anchovies,” Penny countered.
“I happen to love anchovies, young lady. You can either learn to like them or pick them off.”
Ellen and Kate shared an amused, conspiratorial glance at the familiar argument.
“You might as well give in kiddo,” Ellen told her daughter. “Your grandmother will not budge on this.”
By the time they’d finished the pizza, it was close to midnight. Elizabeth said good-night at the door and stood watching long after the taillights of their cars had disappeared.
She regretted worrying them earlier, but she was glad that it had brought them by, just when she needed a distraction the most. Now that they’d gone, the house felt empty and lifeless. It had never felt that way before. She’d never noticed the loneliness as she did tonight. Under the circumstances it was a dangerous state of mind.
For as long as Kate, Ellen and Penny were there, Elizabeth hadn’t allowed a single thought of Brandon Halloran to creep in. Alone again, however, she knew that she had only delayed the inevitable. Brandon wasn’t the type of man to be banished so easily from her thoughts.
To her dismay it seemed that that much at least hadn’t
changed over the past fifty years. He still had a way of capturing her attention and driving out all rational thought. She could only pray that some of that single-minded purpose with which he’d pursued her all those years ago had faded with age.
Chapter Two
Now that he’d found Lizzy, Brandon was not about to be thwarted in his campaign to arrange a reunion. What on earth could she find so threatening about a couple of old friends getting together to reminisce?
The next day he sent her two dozen pale pink roses, the day after that a huge basket of wildflowers. He followed up with rare orchids. The Beverly Hills florist was ecstatic over the lavish orders he phoned in daily. Brandon wasn’t at all certain what Lizzy’s reaction was likely to be. He figured it would be best not to call, to be patient and let her get used to the idea that he intended to become an important part of her life again.
It had been years since he’d courted a woman, but he knew the techniques couldn’t have changed all that much. He would fill her whole damn house with flowers if he had to. Sooner or later she was bound to start chuckling at his extravagance. Then maybe she would experience a little twinge of purely feminine delight. By the time he exhausted the rare and exotic floral possibilities, he was hoping she’d cave in and track him down. Halloran Industries hadn’t moved in nearly a century. She could find him anytime she wanted to.
Yet there were no calls, no letters as March gave way to April, so Brandon started sending extravagant boxes of candy. Lizzy had always had a sweet tooth. Half their dates had ended in a soda shop over hot-fudge sundaes. This time, though, a full week of chocolates produced no results. His patience started wearing thin.
Brandon was standing in front of a department store display of outrageously expensive French perfumes, totally at a loss, when Jason’s wife sneaked up beside him.
“My, my, what are you up to?” Dana inquired, linking her arm through his.
He scowled at her. “How do you make heads or tails of all this?”
“Don’t ask me. All those scents make me queasy.”
He glanced at her swollen belly, which not even one of her boldly designed, loose-fitting sweaters could camouflage at this stage of her pregnancy. “Why aren’t you and my great-grandbaby at home resting?”
“Because your great-grandbaby is coming in just a couple of months and I need to start buying things for the nursery.”
“Nursery?” he said, readily dismissing the perfume as a purchase he could make later. “Let’s go. I can help.”
Dana stood stock-still. “Not until you tell me what you’re doing surrounded by the most expensive perfumes in the store.”
“Just looking.”
His granddaughter-in-law rolled her eyes. “Come on, Brandon. You can’t kid a kidder. Who’s the woman?”
“Young lady, mind your own business,” he said, trying to sound stern, rather than flustered. He’d hoped to keep all this to himself. He could swear Dana to secrecy, but that seemed slightly absurd given the lack of anything much to talk about in the first place.
She grinned at him. “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. If you ask me in this instance, turnabout is definitely fair play. You started meddling in my life on the first day we met and you haven’t stopped yet.”
“I think it’s time we had another one of those talks about respecting your elders. Even that rapscallion brother of yours shows me more respect.”
Dana didn’t look the least bit intimidated. “Save the lecture for the baby,” she told him. “Maybe you’ll be able to convince your new great-grandchild to worship the ground you walk on. I’m just plain nosy, especially when my single grandfather-in-law is showing all the signs of courting some mysterious woman.”
“Looking at perfume does not constitute courting. I could be buying the perfume for my secretary.”
“Oh? Is it Harriet’s birthday? Is she the one you’ve been lavishing all those flowers on?”
Brandon glared at her. “What do you know about any flowers?”
“Just that last month’s florist bill nearly put Kevin back in the hospital with another heart attack. You really should pay cash, if you intend to keep these things secret from your nearest and dearest. Kevin reads the fine print on every one of those invoices, remember?”
“I remember,” he grumbled. Unfortunately he hadn’t considered that when he’d placed the orders. “Are we going to look at baby things or not?”
“Sure,” Dana said finally. “That’ll give me that much longer to try to pry some real information out of you.”
He waggled a finger under her nose. “If I weren’t afraid you would go out and buy little pink sissy things for my great-grandson, I’d let you go alone.”
“Your great-grand daughter may want little sissy things.”
“There hasn’t been a girl born into the Halloran family as far back as I can remember.”
“Probably because nature knew what it would take to put up with the Halloran men. Now, come on. Let’s look at wallpaper. I was thinking clowns. What do you think?”
“Clowns? Why not trains or boats?”
“How about little yellow ducks?”
“My great-grandson is not going to live with little yellow ducks,” Brandon said indignantly. “He’ll quack before he talks.”
“Maybe we should look at cribs instead,” Dana said. “Or diapers? Do you have firm convictions about diapers? I was thinking cloth because of the environment.”
“Cloth is good,” he conceded, then studied her worriedly. “Are you sure you should be doing all this running around? Maybe you should go back home and rest. Leave the shopping up to Jason and me.”
“Not a chance. Now let’s get moving. I have a list.”
Dana dragged him through the department store at a pace only slightly slower than a marathon runner’s. She found at least a half-dozen more opportunities to slip in questions about his social life. Brandon had to be quick on his feet to keep up with her and even quicker to avoid the verbal traps she so neatly set.
When they’d finally put the bundles into the trunk of Dana’s car, he shot her a triumphant look. “Thought you could wheedle it out of me, didn’t you?”
She turned on her most innocent expression. “You mean the fact that this woman lives in California and her name is Elizabeth?” she asked as she slammed the car door.
Brandon stared at her in astonishment, then rapped on the window until she rolled it down. “How’d you know that?”
“Those invoices reveal a whole lot more than the cost of your flowers,” she said smugly. “The word is out.”
“If you knew all that, why’d you ask?”
“I wanted to watch you squirm,” she admitted with a grin. “You’ve done it to us often enough.”
Brandon couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up despite his indignation at being caught. “I suppose you’re feeling mighty proud of yourself?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“I wouldn’t go getting too smug, young lady. There’s still time for me to sneak my workmen into that nursery and paper the walls with itsy-bitsy footballs and baseballs.”
“You do and your great-grandchild will be in college before you see her.”
“You’re mighty sassy,” he observed with a chuckle. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Come over some night and dig around in the attic. There just might be an old cradle up there you could use.”
“Was it Jason’s?” she asked with an immediate spark of enthusiasm in her eyes.
“His and Kevin’s before him. Might even have been mine.”
“Oh, I’d love to have that. I’ll stop by.”
“Anytime you like. In the meantime, you take care of that baby.”
“Between you and Jason I don’t have a choice.” She backed the car out of the parking space, then called to him. “Whatever’s going on with you, I hope you’re having fun.”
“Not yet,” he admitted glumly, then brightened. “But I expect to be.”
>
One week later Brandon packaged up a vintage recording of the song he and Lizzy had considered to be theirs—one of Glenn Miller’s best to Brandon’s way of thinking. He sent it overnight express. If that didn’t get to her, he didn’t know what would.
Sure enough, Elizabeth called that night just as he was getting ready to leave the office. “Brandon, this has to stop.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want all these gifts. Do you have any idea how overpowering all these flowers are in a five-room house? I feel like I’m sleeping in a garden.”
“Sounds romantic to me.”
“It might be, if I didn’t have allergies,” she grumbled, sneezing as if to prove the point.
Despite himself, Brandon chuckled. “Send the flowers to a hospital or a nursing home.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I told you. I want to see you. Why are you so reluctant?”
“I think it’s wrong to try to go back.”
It sounded to Brandon as if she’d wanted to say something else. The reluctance puzzled him. “We’re talking dinner, maybe a little dancing. You always did like to dance, Lizzy. I remember the way you could waltz. I’ll never forget the night we danced in that gazebo in the town square. I can still smell the honeysuckle. I loved holding you in my arms.”
“No,” she repeated, but there was less starch in her voice this time.
“You’re weakening, aren’t you? I’ll be out tomorrow. Once I’m standing on your doorstep, you won’t be able to resist.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she muttered.
Brandon waited as she drew in a deep breath. Finally, after yet another silence that seemed to last an eternity, she said, “I don’t want you out here. I’ll come there, Brandon. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back to the East Coast.”
“Tomorrow?” he said. “I’ll call my travel agent and have her book you on the first available flight.”
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