by Judy Duarte
“Emily never wanted to camp or go to Montana, but now when she talks about it…She got pictures developed and the scenery is gorgeous. She said she didn’t just look at it, she felt it.”
“She’s right about that.”
“You know something?” Lizbeth asked rhetorically. “Eric was all set not to like you, but I think you’re okay.”
With that declaration she pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen, and Brad followed her inside.
As soon as Brad stepped into the room and saw Mary Stanton, he knew she was a lady. Taller than Emily, she wore her salt-and-pepper brown hair in a sleek French twist. Her sweater and pants were an impeccable navy blue, in contrast to her daughter’s pale pink.
When she extended her hand to Brad, she smiled. “Hello, Mr. Vaughn. Thank you for keeping my daughter safe while you were in Montana.”
He looked for an underlying meaning to her words and found none. “She kept me on my toes.”
Mrs. Stanton laughed. “I imagine she did. Emily can be quite creative. She’s been telling me about her new promotion. I never thought of my daughter as a private investigator.”
“She’ll make a good one someday, if that’s what she wants.”
Mary looked from one of them to the other and capped Lizbeth’s shoulder. “Let’s you and I go see if everything on the table is where it’s supposed to be.”
“Mom, you had me check it—”
Nudging her youngest daughter into the dining room, Mary let the swinging door shut behind them.
“Hi,” Emily greeted him brightly. She’d been tearing lettuce leaves and now she dried her hands on a towel and hung it over the handle on the oven. “I hope my family hasn’t been too…daunting.”
“Not daunting. Interesting.”
“That they are. What have you got there? The wine’s great. I told you you didn’t have to bring anything.”
He handed her the present. “This is for you. Sort of a Montana-wasn’t-what-we-expected and a promotion gift.”
Just looking at Emily—her silky brown hair, her wide green eyes, her slender figure in the pretty pink outfit—he was aroused and ready for another night in the bedroom. But that was the whole problem. Emily wasn’t a torrid-affair kind of woman. She deserved a hell of a lot more.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she detached the bow from the gift, and he wondered if he truly affected her the same way she affected him. Taking care with the paper, she only tore it where she had to, then she set it aside on the counter and stared at the box.
“Oh, my gosh. You didn’t!”
“I felt responsible for the other one being damaged.”
“I took it to the camera shop so we could take the film out and salvage it. It was going to be expensive to fix it, so I was just going to wait a while. But this—”
Taking the lid from the box, she pulled out the camera in its leather case. Unzipping the protective pouch, she took out the piece of equipment carefully. “Oh, my gosh. It has everything.”
“That’s what the man said. So now there’s no excuse for you not to take the very best pictures and submit them to magazines for consideration.”
“You want me to be a P.I. and a photographer?”
“I want you to be whatever you want to be.”
Her gaze met his, then she set the camera on the counter with the wrapping and gave him a hug. Dressed in a polo shirt and khaki slacks tonight, he could feel every one of her curves against him. He could also smell her perfume and breathe in her shampoo. He needed her too damn much. It would have been easy to kiss her. It would have been easy to prolong the hug. But neither would have been the right thing to do.
Leaning away, he said, “It’s supposed to do as well indoors as outside. You might want to take a few of your family.”
“More than a few. I bet Eric will want to borrow it for the kids.”
“And you’ll let him?”
“Maybe. But I have the feeling I’m going to be protective of this for a while. Thank you so much, Brad. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know I didn’t. That’s why I wanted to.”
“I want to show Mom, and we have to get supper out before it burns. I hope you like meat loaf.”
He hadn’t had meat loaf since he was a kid and his mother made it for him every Wednesday night. “Meat loaf sounds great.”
Seated at the dining room table with her family, he realized the meal felt like a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving. Dinner conversation was lively. The problem was, every time Brad gazed into Emily’s eyes, he couldn’t look away. And it seemed neither could she. They were seated across the table from each other, but that didn’t diminish the magnetic pull he felt toward her.
Surprised he found it easy to talk to this family, Brad entered some of the conversations. Lizbeth went on about college and the people she knew there, and Elaine recounted colorful anecdotes. Eric was the only one who was particularly quiet. His wife and two children didn’t seem to notice as they ate their meal with gusto, and then the two little girls ran into the living room to watch a DVD. When it was time for dessert, Emily disappeared into the kitchen to help her mother and Elaine. Lizbeth went to the china cupboard in the corner and removed cups and saucers, the sugar bowl and the creamer.
While she was doing that, Eric leaned closer to Brad and asked, “So, this trip to Montana—was it all business?”
“It was business,” Brad answered without elaboration.
Eric gave him a penetrating look. “Emily went on and on about visiting a couple and a baby. You know, don’t you, that she wants a passel of kids someday.”
Brad hadn’t known that for certain, but he’d guessed. When he’d seen Emily with Marissa, he’d known motherhood was in her nature. Just the way she related to her sisters proved that.
“Emily will make a wonderful mother.” Brad knew that in his soul.
Frustrated he wasn’t getting more out of Brad, Eric continued poking. “She said she’s not going to be working with you anymore. Is that true?”
“That’s true. She’s going to train with a senior private investigator. If she likes the work, she can get her license.”
“You think she’s really cut out for that?”
“One thing I don’t do is underestimate Emily. If she decides that’s what she wants, nothing will stop her. And she’ll be good at it, too.”
When Eric studied Brad, as if gauging his sincerity, Brad became irritated. “I’m looking out for Emily’s best interests, too.”
Finally Eric backed off. “I just wanted to make sure of that. She’s tough and smart but she’s more vulnerable than anybody knows.”
Brad knew that’s why he had to cut this off now. He couldn’t say their last night together had been a mistake. It had been too intense and fulfilling to be a mistake. But that last night was going to make everything said and done between them now even harder.
After dinner, Brad stayed a while longer. It was the polite thing to do. Finally, though, he said his good-nights and then he asked Emily, “Walk me out?”
Not hesitating, she followed him to the door and out into the hall.
Her smile slipped from her lips as she looked up at him. An awkward silence settled between them. Finally she murmured, “Thank you again for the camera.”
After a very long moment, he said, “You deserve the best, Emily, the best of everything.” He took a step away from her.
“I’m not going to see you again, am I?” she blurted out.
“No, not like this. It’s best for you if we don’t. I don’t have anything to give you. One day you’ll meet a man worthy of you.”
“I’ve already met a worthy man. You have more to give than you think. But you have to believe that. Up until now, you thought you were your reputation, and I’m not sure you considered being anything else. In Montana, I saw so many sides to you that you keep hidden.”
Every word was going through him like a lance…because he could feel the truth in what she
said. But she wanted a family, children—the very things he’d avoided all his adult life.
“Your life is about family. Mine isn’t.”
“Yours could be, too, if that’s what you wanted. You think because your parents divorced, because you were shuttled back and forth from one to the other, that you don’t know how to be a husband or a father. But I think you’re wrong. With Juliet and Mark’s baby…”
He couldn’t let her go on with this. He couldn’t let her think there was hope. “I held Marissa for fifteen minutes. That’s not being a father.”
“It’s the way you held her,” Emily protested with certainty.
“You’re seeing what you want to see.”
“And you’re denying what you think you have to deny.”
In spite of himself, he couldn’t keep from touching her one last time. Reaching out, he trailed his thumb across her cheek and felt her tremble in response. He wanted to kiss her so badly that nothing in the world seemed to matter—not his career, not his money, not his reputation, not anything he’d valued before. If he kissed her, he’d be taking advantage of her. If he led her on, he’d be worse than the irresponsible playboy she once thought he was.
“I have to go.” He dropped his hand to his side. “Tomorrow you’ll start working for Jack. If you put your heart and soul into it, you’ll be great.”
“I think my heart and my soul are busy thinking about something else right now.”
“Forget about me, Emily. Tell your mother and your sisters and brother I had a great time.”
Walking away from her, he stopped halfway to the elevator. “And use that camera for the best pictures you’ve ever taken.”
Fortunately when he pressed the button on the elevator, it opened immediately. He stepped inside, wanting to get a last glimpse of Emily. However, before he could glance down the hall, the doors whooshed shut and she was gone.
His heart told him to stay. His head told him to leave.
He always followed his head.
In spite of her stern lecture to herself—that Brad had to go his way and she had to go hers—Emily cried on and off throughout the night. She’d seen the real Brad in Montana, a loving, caring man who could make a commitment, say vows and live a happily ever after if he chose it. Happily ever after wasn’t a fairy tale or a dream, it was a choice. When you had the right person beside you…
She’d found the right person, but the problem was he didn’t think he was the right person. There was nothing she could do about that.
When she went into work the next morning earlier than usual, Brad wasn’t there yet and she was thankful for that. She had to empty her desk, pack up her personal belongings and take all of it down to Jack’s office.
She was removing an extra pair of shoes from her bottom drawer when Brad came through the door followed by a beautiful blonde and an older man in a three-piece suit. A younger man in a suit and tie tagged behind.
Brad opened the door to his office as he said to the blonde, “My lawyer has the DNA report. We’ll be finished with this in five minutes.”
Seeing Brad this morning was like a punch in the stomach, and Emily found it hard to take a deep breath. She’d lectured herself before coming to work that she might run into him. And she told herself that in the days to come that was a very distinct possibility, too. He and Jack often worked together. They consulted on cases. The gossip mill in the firm would keep her apprised of exactly whom Brad was seeing and whom he wasn’t.
Sinking into her desk chair, she realistically thought about all of that for the very first time.
She couldn’t do it. She simply couldn’t do it. She couldn’t work in the same firm, hearing news about him, seeing him in the hall or even having to deal with him. She loved him too much for that.
There was no way she could accept this promotion. No way at all.
Studying the three boxes on her desk, she decided to take them to her car and head home. But first she would type up a letter of resignation.
With tears in her eyes, she knew the only solution to loving Brad was leaving Vaughn Associates for good.
Chapter Thirteen
Brad stood in his father’s office, relieved the meeting with his lawyer and Suzette Brouchard had gone so well. Of course, when the proof was printed in black and white—
“So Brouchard admitted she and her boyfriend were just trying to get money out of you?”
“She said it was her boyfriend’s idea. With the test results, knowing with one hundred percent certainty that I’m not the father, what else could she say? They thought if they put enough pressure on me, especially through the media, they could get a settlement before the DNA testing results came in.”
With a shake of his head Phillip Vaughn sighed. “Women.”
Right now Brad didn’t want to hear about his father’s views on the fairer sex. “There’s something else I wanted to discuss with you.”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “What would that be?”
“I want to open a missing-persons division of Vaughn Associates. And I want to do pro bono work, as well as work for hire. As head of the division, I would decide which cases we would take on and which we wouldn’t. If you don’t want to consider that type of work for this company, then I’ll open my own firm to specialize in finding missing persons.”
Shock appeared to be the main sentiment on his father’s face. “Why would you ever want to do that?”
Concisely Brad explained about Tess Littlehawk and her daughter. Then he added, “I’m flying to California this afternoon to follow up on a lead.”
A very long silence echoed in the elegant office. After a long, thoughtful look at Brad, Phillip must have seen his determination and exactly what he’d lose if he dismissed the idea—a connection to his son.
He asked, “Will you put some facts and figures together and write up a proposal? If you do that, I’ll consider it.”
A few minutes later, Brad left his father’s office and headed toward his own. Maybe he could borrow Emily from Jack just for a day or two. She was so good at collating information.
No, that wouldn’t be fair. She was no longer his secretary, and he just had to deal with that. Whenever he thought of Emily, he felt as if he had a hole in his heart. He was trying to fill it by taking his life in a new direction, yet he knew he might have to stop into Jack’s office to see her. He might have to tell her his good news.
One of his contacts in California had turned up a shelter log with Annie Littlehawk’s name in it. The man had a couple of leads, and Brad wanted to help him chase them down. Soon he’d have to leave for the airport.
When Brad rounded the corner to his office suite, he saw Emily’s empty desk. The sight of it made him frown. He didn’t even want to think about interviewing for a new personal secretary, but he knew he had to do it.
The white legal-size envelope lying in the middle of his desk caught his eye as soon as he entered his own office. When he picked it up, he saw his name written on the outside. It was Emily’s handwriting.
His heart pounding faster, he took out the typed letter, read it and swore. It was impersonal, one paragraph, a letter of resignation and thanks for all he’d done for her.
There was no explanation for why she’d written it, and he suddenly knew exactly why. She wanted to put him and Thunder Canyon out of her life.
Brad thought about going after her, but what would he say? I can’t stand the thought of coming to work and you not being here? I hate the idea of you working somewhere else?
With a blinding flash of insight, he realized his feelings had nothing to do with Emily quitting her job. Rather, they had to do with him not seeing her again and not seeing her every day.
What had he thought they were going to do? Have coffee together in the mornings before she went off to work for Jack and he opened his own division?
As Brad packed his bag that afternoon for his trip, he thought about Emily. As he boarded the plane, he thought about Emily. As h
e slept alone in his hotel room that night, he thought about Emily.
Brad’s contact in California had done good groundwork in San Jose. After two days of following leads, Brad found Annie Littlehawk in a bookstore shelving books. When he introduced himself and insisted that her mother missed her terribly, she began crying.
“I can’t go home,” she told him as she ordered a soda at a nearby restaurant. She was a beautiful young woman, with long black hair and sparkling brown eyes.
“Tell me why not.”
After a few moments of hesitation, she murmured, “It’s not just that I ran away. I know that hurt my mother. But I did things I’m not proud of after I ran.”
“Your mother needs to know you’re well and safe. All these years she didn’t know if you were alive or dead. That’s heartbreaking for a parent.”
“I can’t believe she hired you to look for me. How could she afford that?”
“Let’s just say fate put us together at the right place at the right time. You have to let her know you’re okay.”
Annie fingered the straw of her soda. “I didn’t think she’d ever want to hear from me again. I caused her so much trouble. We fought all the time. I said things I never should have said.”
“You think your mother hasn’t made mistakes in her life?”
When Annie looked up at him with wide, miserable eyes, she frowned. “She’s a good person. She’d never intentionally hurt someone.”
“Did you want to hurt her?”
“Yes! Because she wouldn’t let me do what I wanted to do. She laid down all these rules and I didn’t understand why.”
“And now you do?”
Annie nodded.
“Then call her.” He slid his business card across the table with Tess’s information written on the back. “That’s where she’s living and working now.”
As Annie looked torn, he advised her, “Don’t decide right now whether you’re going to come home or not. I can tell her I found you, but I’m sure she’d much rather hear from you. If you decide you want to fly back to Thunder Canyon, let me know and I’ll make the arrangements.”
