by Robyn Grady
Elizabeth stepped forward and nudged his ribs. “Told you there was nothing to go get all edgy about.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“You do realize trespassers just left your property, right?”
Maybe someone who was aware of her sympathies with Abigail’s camp and her Yankee architect. Maybe someone who, under the cloak of night, wanted to show Elizabeth she was backing the wrong side.
But Elizabeth only laughed. “They weren’t trespassers, silly. Don’t you see something missing?”
Daniel had taken a breath, ready to tell her to go back inside so he could call the sheriff, when the truth of what she’d said slapped him upside the head. Turning around, he examined the lawn and sank into himself. Of course, that’s what didn’t fit. Those blasted flamingos were gone.
Thank God. And for more than one reason.
Nonetheless, he wouldn’t shake the feeling that something big, bad and unlawful was going down in Royal. Something gritty he wanted nothing to do with. Elizabeth, either.
While he scowled around the parameters, she threaded an arm through his and gave it a tug. “C’mon, cowboy. Let’s go inside.”
Giving in, he turned, but stopped again when his bare foot met with an object that shouldn’t have been there. Frowning, he crouched and collected an envelope. On the front was handwritten scrawl.
To Elizabeth Milton.
Grunting, he flipped it over. “Appears someone’s desperate to get in touch.”
Elizabeth slipped the envelope from his hand, ripping open the seal as they moved into the house. After flicking on some lights, she slid a single sheet out. She read to herself, every so often nodding solemnly.
As the seconds ticked by, Daniel craned to have a look.
“Who’s it from?”
She waved the letter as if it were nothing more than a local flyer. “A friend.”
“What friend?” he demanded, following as she flicked on more lights and headed down the hall.
“I, er, don’t exactly know.”
Daniel’s hackles went up. If she was in trouble, he wanted to know. And he wanted to know now.
Stopping in the kitchen, he set his fists low on his hips. “I think you’d better tell me.”
At the granite island counter, she sized him up as if suddenly, after spending hours of giving herself so completely, she wasn’t so sure she could trust him. But then she exhaled. Her slender shoulders in the black silk robe slumped and, setting the letter down, she grabbed the empty coffeepot.
“Someone needs help.”
His hands lowered. Now they were getting somewhere.
“Who? What kind of help?”
“A woman and her children.” She rinsed the pot and set it back on its perch. “She’s from the Midwest. Apparently when her family lost everything in a tornado, her husband lost it, as well. Seems he became physically violent. It was getting worse.”
“What’s all that got to do with you?”
“That woman and her children escaped and came down here to be near her sister, who’s down on her luck at the moment, too. The future looks uncertain, particularly if the husband decides to run her through some rings and take her to court for custody.” Scooping out coffee grinds, her voice lowered. “Or decides to take the law into his own hands.”
Daniel fought the chill scuttling down his backbone. He made it his business not to think too closely on the subject of broken homes. God knows, there were a lot of them. But this minute, seeing the concern lining Elizabeth’s face, it wasn’t so easy to pull down his shutter and walk away. Moving around the island to join her, he softened his tone.
“That doesn’t explain why you received a letter in the middle of the night.”
“It’s not common knowledge.” She eyed him sternly. “Promise now to not say a word.” He swept a finger twice over his heart. “Sometimes when this kind of situation seeps into Royal, the information reaches certain people through the shelter. People who like to give well-deserving individuals a new start, particularly children.”
“Certain people being you?”
Setting her jaw, she raised her chin. “I give them some cash, a car, help find them a job if I can.” She flicked the percolator on. “I don’t advertise.”
Daniel lowered his weight onto the nearest kitchen stool and absorbed the new twist. In this town, secrets went deep and the surprises kept coming. But something didn’t add up.
“Your generosity must have limits, particular criteria.” He thought she had restraints. “Do you run this by Tremain?”
“He doesn’t approve. But he knows it’s one of the things that keeps me here.” Setting two mugs on the counter, she looked at him. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the ranch. But this more than compensates for…”
Her words trailed off.
“For the fact you’re caged in five sixths of the year,” he finished for her, for the first time truly feeling the ramifications of that sacrifice.
“If I left, I wouldn’t lose absolutely everything. I’d still have a trust, but I couldn’t help others to the extent I do now.”
His heart in his throat, he reached to hold her chin between his thumb and finger then combed the silken hair fallen over one cheek. When her eyes met his he felt his chest swell.
“You’re an exceptional woman, you know that?”
Although a thankful smile curved her lips, she denied it. “I’m lucky. I came from a happy home. But there are some who need help to fill in some losses. Mend some wounds. I think of the children,” she told him, her voice strong but also filled with compassion. “They need a home. A sense of belonging. It’d be easy, I imagine, to start to run and keep running from a whole pile of things.”
The longer he looked at her, the broader his smile grew. Alongside this petite woman, he suddenly felt small.
“You must’ve been born with a special knack.”
“What’s that?”
“To help people see that there’s more.” His lips brushed her forehead and his throat grew tight.
Help me to see, even a glimpse…
He cupped her nape and kissed her tenderly, wanting to both convey and absorb what he was feeling. When his lips gradually left hers, he drew in a breath and peered into her vulnerable gaze.
“Do you have any time left this year?”
“Of the two months?”
He nodded.
“Three days.”
He rested his forehead on hers. “We can see, and do, a lot in three days.”
Then he swept her up and—with her arms around his neck, her head against his shoulder—carried her back upstairs.
Nine
Elizabeth didn’t know how she felt about Daniel Warren. Or rather, she didn’t know how she felt about the assortment of maddening emotions he managed to bring out in her.
Early this morning, after the flamingo kidnapping and discovery of the letter asking for help, they’d made love again. Every time he’d stroked and kissed her, the thrills and sense of certainty—or was that uncertainty—only grew.
With cool wind pushing against her face as Ame thundered down the eastern plain, Elizabeth wondered at the similarities between the way her heart pounded with excitement now and her loss of breath whenever she was with Daniel. His slick dark hair, inviting sexy grin, a body that radiated strength on so many levels…everything about that man reduced her to jelly.
Perhaps it was childish, Elizabeth thought as she cantered in a wide semicircle and headed home, but during those times when she gazed so deeply into his eyes as she lay sated beneath him, the green became an endless ocean she was more than willing to drown in. Whenever his mouth traced the moist line from her cleavage all the way down, she couldn’t stop from quivering. Sighing. When his fingertips drifted along her side in the tingling afterglow, she wanted to close her eyes and hold on to that blessed moment forever.
And it frightened her that earlier, when Daniel had gone to work on a design idea, she’d had to bite her
lip from begging him to stay.
As Ame galloped again and the wind roared past, Elizabeth tipped back her head and smiled at the warmth of the Texas sun on her face. Daniel made her feel so safe. Interesting and special. He validated her.
He left her wanting more and more.
Ame was hot and lathered by the time she walked him into the stables. Ricquo, a ranch hand, took the reins and offered to brush him down. Elizabeth strolled back to the house, relishing the smells of well-worked horse and sunflowers. But with Daniel offering to take her away for three days, she was ready for a change of scenery. A change of pace.
Biting her lip, she grinned to herself.
Where did he plan to take her?
Her riding boots crunching over gravel, Elizabeth strode up the path thinking Hawaii, Fiji, maybe even Australia. Then she spied an uninvited guest swinging on her back patio seat and spiraling anticipation turned to dread. She didn’t want to face that man today, but she should have known he’d show up.
Wanting to get it over with, she straightened her spine and picked up her pace.
“Morning, Chad.”
“I see Nita’s not around today,” he said, pushing out of the swing.
“Gone to see her mother. What can I do for you?”
“I received your correspondence this morning,” Chad said in his I’m disappointed in you tone. “I needed to tell you in person. I object.”
Wiggling out of her gloves, she skirted around him. “I know you do.”
They’d had this conversation—confrontation—many times. In fact, every time she instructed Chad to write a check for a family in need. She’d heard all the arguments, and frankly, she was tired of them. But for her parents’ sake she’d tell him one more time.
“Through the terms of the will I receive a generous allowance.”
She didn’t need to involve Chad when lump expenditures came in under a certain amount. But from early on she’d decided not to let that constraint stand in the way of using her allowance when and how she saw fit.
She opened the back door. “My mother would approve of my helping those in need.”
“Your father wouldn’t. He’d want you to use every cent on assisting the Milton cause—keeping the place running and running well.”
Her temper spiked. “My father is dead.”
Clenching her gloves in one hand, she sucked down a leveling breath and moved through into the house. She hadn’t meant to snap. Neither would she be dictated to. Not one day more.
“Did you write the check?”
Chad answered her question with a question. “Have you made certain this woman’s story pans out?”
She had. She always did. But she was tired of playing this game. Of being treated like an infant. Was being in control and keeping her in the realm of “ward” so important to him?
“What is it to you what I do with my allowance? It’s not as if I’m gambling or drinking it away.”
“You might as well be.”
And that’s what she hated most about these discussions, she decided, balancing against a wall to heel off her boots. Although he usually kept his feelings low-key and would deny it if asked, Chad was a chauvinist. If she were Ethan Milton’s son rather than daughter he wouldn’t expect her to have capitulated this long.
She walked away. “I don’t wish to discuss it further.”
“Then it’s settled.”
She actually growled. “The only thing that’s settled is my impatience with you.”
His footfalls followed her into the hall. “Elizabeth, I’ll thank you not to address me in that manner.”
“I’m not a child.”
“You’re still vulnerable.”
Spinning on him, incredulous, she barked, “Because I’m a single woman?”
His expression changed, softened, and his palms came out as he stepped closer. “I want to look after you.”
“I don’t want to be looked after.”
“Listen to me—”
“You listen to me. You are my financial advisor for another five years, but there’s nothing in that will to say I have to follow your every direction. I’ve bowed over and again in the past to keep the peace. From this moment on, when I make a decision and give you an instruction, I expect it to be followed without hesitation. Do you understand?”
“You’re not thinking straight.”
“There is nothing wrong with my mind.”
His nostrils flared and voice lowered to a rasp.
“You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?”
Elizabeth didn’t stop to think. Her hand drew back then met his face.
Touching the stinging mark rising on his cheek, Chad nodded as if he knew he deserved it. But, still, he couldn’t let it lie.
“Daniel Warren doesn’t care a rat’s hindquarters for this place. That means he doesn’t care about you. Once he earns his money, you won’t see him for dust.”
“And wouldn’t you fall over with fright if I just happened to follow him.”
His face paled before a confident smile hooked one side of his mouth. “You wouldn’t desecrate your parents’ memory like that.”
“I’ll do whatever I damn well please.” Her face hot, tears pickling behind her eyes, she strode off. “Close the door on your way out.”
When Nita returned that evening, Elizabeth was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the study, plowing through her old university papers. One hand went behind to help stretch her back as she glanced up and smiled.
“I didn’t hear you drive up.”
Stepping between the patchwork of textbooks and data sheets, Nita tsked. “That’s because you’ve insulated yourself in here with all this paper. What are you looking for?”
Sighing, Elizabeth sat back on her heels.
I’m looking for my life.
“I chose a degree in psychology,” she said, collecting her final essay with the excellent grade, “because I wanted to help people.”
Bent, about to collect a pile of books, Nita froze. “Has something happened at the shelter?” Nita knew of Elizabeth’s work there and how she’d like to do more.
“No.” Elizabeth corrected herself. “Not exactly. A woman dropped off a letter here. I asked Chad to organize some funds.”
“Oh.” Above her glasses, Nita’s eyebrows lifted, as if that explained everything about Elizabeth’s low mood. She placed the books on the edge of the ornate 1920s timber desk, which had been Ethan Milton’s pride and joy.
“We had our usual tussle,” Elizabeth explained, “about whether I was being responsible with my parents’ money.”
“It’s your money now.”
Still on the floor, Elizabeth blew a stream of air toward the ceiling. Their money. Her money. Wills and caveats and time sliding away. Twenty-five, twenty-six. One day, before she knew it, she’d be Nita’s age.
Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Suddenly I feel so stifled.”
“So you’ve decided to do more study?”
Looking around, she shrugged. “Maybe.”
Nita leaned her hips back against the desk, waiting for the younger woman to continue.
Elizabeth wandered to a window and, resting the side of her head against the jamb, looked out on another amazing Texas sunset.
“Daniel came over last night.”
“I guessed.”
She folded her arms over her nervous stomach. “He makes me feel things I haven’t felt before.”
“You’re falling in love with him?”
“No.” Elizabeth released the sudden buildup of energy and, thinking more deeply on it, slowly shook her head then smiled. “But I sure like having him around.”
“If he gets the job for the club, he’ll be in Royal for a while.”
“I imagine so.” Elizabeth turned to face her friend. “He asked me to go away with him for a couple of days.”
Approving, Nita nodded. “When do you leave?”
“I’m not sure. When he left this morning, he
had an idea for the design he wanted to work on.”
“See what a slice of my cheesecake can do?”
A smile broke across Elizabeth’s face. “Imagine if he’d had two pieces.”
Elizabeth crossed the room and sat behind the desk. A photograph of her grandparents sat on one side in a solid silver frame. Another of her mother and father on their wedding day sat on the other. Both shots had been taken out front of this house.
Elizabeth collected the wedding day shot and felt her throat swell with emotion. Whenever the miss you feeling got too much, she liked to look through old photographs, although she was never sure if it made her feel better or worse.
“Daniel doesn’t like his parents,” she murmured, running a fingertip down the train of her mother’s wedding gown. “He dislikes his memories of the South even more.”
“The past is important. We need to understand where we come from,” Nita said in her wise rather than wisecrack voice. “But we need to remember that the future is ours to create.”
“Is it?” Setting down the photo, Elizabeth imagined a similar shot of her with a proud Texan husband. “Or is it mapped out for us?” Plotted with a few twists and turns before an inevitable conclusion?
“I’ve decided to see more of my mother,” Nita said. “Stay more regularly.”
Elizabeth’s gaze snapped up. “Not to give Daniel and me more space here?”
“I’d already decided.” Her lips twitched. “Although he is a nice boy.”
“He’s a busy set-in-his-ways-millionaire-passing-through boy.” Elizabeth slumped. “And I’m a restless heiress with too much time on her hands.”
“You’re a man and a woman.”
“It feels wrong to want something I know I can never have. And yet when we’re together, it feels so right.”
“Go away with Daniel. Enjoy your time.” Nita sauntered toward the door. “The ranch will be here when you get back.”
Folding her forearms on the desk, Elizabeth bent forward to study the papers strewn across the floor. Then she remembered Chad’s unacceptable behavior and all the women from the shelter she’d helped in the past. Finally she remembered Daniel, his wicked smile, scorching embraces. His offer of escape.
