by Tina Leonard
Annette wiggled in her arms and Valentine knew she needed to focus a little less on fairy tales and a bit more on practicality. She wanted a family for her daughter, but only with a man who loved Valentine for the woman she’d become.
“We’re going to be brave,” she told Annette. “We are going to wait until we know for certain that he is in love with both of us.”
And if that happened, then she would know she had caught a cowboy worth keeping.
Chapter Twelve
Valentine wasn’t expecting it, but at six o’clock the next morning, there was a banging on her front door. Sleepily, she got up to open it, only to find Mason standing there. “Hi,” she said.
“I woke you,” he replied. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be up because of the bakery.”
“I should be, yes. Come in.”
“No, thank you.” He cast a glance around inside her living room. “Is Last here, by chance?”
“Last? No. Isn’t he in the hospital?”
He grimaced. “He’s supposed to be. But he got himself released somehow, and he’s gone. Crockett is useless. He has no idea when his brother left.”
“They were in the same room,” Valentine said. “He would notice his brother packing up and leaving.”
“Unfortunately, no. He had an adverse reaction to his medication. Apparently, very adverse.” Mason shook his head. “He slept like a man in a coma for a full day.”
“Oh. I thought he sounded strange when he called.” There was her answer. The proposal had been all pharmacology.
“He called you? Did he say anything important?”
“If you mean about Last, he never came up.”
“I don’t know how Last could disappear like that, but I’m going to pound him when I see him.”
Valentine’s eyes widened at the sincerity in Mason’s tone. He really was worried about him. “Did one of your brothers come by?”
“They wouldn’t dare.” Mason pursed his lips. “Jerry has been known to bring his truck and conduct a rescue, but he wouldn’t have, either. Besides, he’s too busy moving Delilah’s belongings.”
“That leaves a special woman.”
Mason looked at her. “The only special woman in Last’s life is his daughter. I assume Annette is in her crib?”
“Actually, she slept with me last night. I promise, Last was not here. Though I am surprised he didn’t call me.”
Mason tipped his hat. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything. I’m on my way to pick up Crockett now.”
“You are?”
“Sure. Nothing wrong with him that a little Helga-cooking won’t cure. Crockett adores her sauerkraut.”
Valentine blinked. “Can I help you?”
“Just ring me if you hear from Last. My cell is on.”
“I will.” She closed the door, frowning. So Last was gone, and Crockett had been out of his head when he’d called her. Great.
When she went back up to her bedroom, Annette sat up in bed, blinking sleepy eyes at her mother. Her hair was tousled and sweet, and Valentine smiled. “You don’t know it,” she said, “but both of the men in your life have turned out to be duds. One can’t handle his medicine and so offers proposals—a very bad sign, I’m sure—and the other has developed a wandering foot. You, my dear, should not look to either of these men for guidance when you are a teenager.”
Annette giggled, only understanding that her mother was bouncing her on the bed like a toaster popping toast. The phone rang, and Valentine pointed at her daughter. “Stay right there, okay, sweetie?”
In the kitchen, she found the portable phone and padded back toward her bedroom. “Hello?”
“Valentine,” a deep voice said.
“Last?” She halted in her tracks. “Where are you?”
“Never mind that. I need you to keep a secret for me.”
“Of course.”
“I’ve gone away to get some R & R.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. But I’m not planning on coming back for a while. I want you to know, because of Annette. I don’t want her to think that…her dad abandoned her.”
He was thinking of Maverick. Valentine kept walking and went to sit on the bed so she could stroke her daughter’s hair. “I don’t understand.”
He hesitated. “I just needed to get away. I hated being in the hospital, I hate being laid up, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you or my brothers. I decided to take a recuperative vacation.”
“For how long? I’m having a Father’s Day Picnic in a couple of weeks.”
“I won’t be back by then,” he said. “I’m sorry. But it’s really sweet of you to do it.”
An uncomfortable feeling ran over her. The sudden disappearance; the excuses about being a burden. “You’re not coming back, are you?”
“Not for a long time. I wanted you to know so that Annette wouldn’t…think she’d been left, and so you’ll know that I’m fine. I’ve gone off before, but this time, I need to stake my own claim. I’d appreciate you not sharing that with my brothers. I’ll call you from time to time to talk to Annette, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. But, Last,” she said.
“Yes?”
“What does staking your claim mean, exactly?”
“It’s really hard to explain,” he said, “but I need something that’s mine. Something that’s not Malfunction Junction.”
She, too, had left home to stake her own claim, a long time ago. It was what had brought her to Lonely Hearts Station. But Union Junction was now her home, and she couldn’t imagine leaving it.
But she understood how he felt. “I’m glad you told me. I completely understand.”
“I knew you would. Valentine, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you for a long time. I should say it in person, but now seems the right time.”
“All right.” She tensed, waiting.
“I’m sorry for the way I treated you. You’re a wonderful mother and a great lady. I wish things had been different between us. I wish I was a different person. I’m not the man for you, but I’m glad you and I share a child. Annette’s awesome.”
Quick tears sprung to Valentine’s eyes. “That means a lot. Thanks.”
“I think you handle our relationship well. I appreciate the fact that you’re always cool with whatever happens. You’re rock solid, Valentine, and there was a time nobody knew that, maybe not even you. But you are.”
“Call often, Last. Annette will want to hear from her daddy.”
“I will. And look after my lout of a brother, okay? He can’t hold his drugs worth squat.”
She laughed. “So I heard. And nobody looks after you Jeffersons, you know that. But I’ll take him an occasional cookie.”
“All right. Goodbye.”
“Talk to your daughter now.” She handed the phone to Annette, who just sat and listened to her father’s voice coming through the earpiece with a big grin on her face. After a moment, when Annette put the phone down, Valentine very softly clicked the phone off.
AT SEVEN O’CLOCK that evening, after Valentine had put a seriously tired and cranky but freshly bathed Annette to bed, another banging on her front door surprised her. With Last being gone, she had decided not to go to Lonely Hearts Station. She didn’t want Crockett thinking she’d driven all that way just to see him.
So the best part was opening the door and finding Crockett on the porch.
“Got milk?” he asked. “I’m in the mood for some cookies. And I was wondering if there was a baker in the house.”
She blinked. “You’re in a cagey mood, aren’t you?”
“Just trying to be funny.” He waved his crutch goodbye at Jerry, who waved back and then drove away. “Can I come in?”
“It seems that was your original idea.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He stumped past her and flopped onto the sofa. “It’s great to be home.”
“Home?” Putting her hands on her hips, she raised a bro
w. “Have you been into the painkillers again?”
“Oh.” He laughed, and she wished he didn’t look so handsome in a raffish, mischievous sort of way. Only a Jefferson would look so great fresh from the hospital. “You must be referring to my rambling phone call.”
“Maybe.”
He waved a magnanimous hand. “I’m here to clear up everything between us.”
It would have been nicer if his proposal had merited more serious attention. “I may be a trifle irritated with you.”
“Oh, don’t be. I’ve been thinking of you since I woke up. I came right from the hospital just to be here.”
“I must say I am surprised.”
“Yes. Because you now have a built-in babysitter.”
Valentine blinked. “Do I?”
“Yes. And I should probably handle the cooking, since you’re not very safe around stoves.” He gave her a devilish wink.
“Crockett!”
He laughed. “Hey, you brought up my mistake. I can mention yours in the spirit of…whatever. Now come sit in my lap.”
“Let’s see, you’re offering cooking, babysitting, and other sundry services, as well?”
His grin was huge. “There are a lot of benefits to having me around.”
“I don’t recall ordering a house husband.”
“Try me. You’ll like me.”
“I don’t think so. I’m still annoyed with you.”
“I’ve got a suggestion. Come here.” She went and sat next to him, unable to resist his playfulness. “I actually have two suggestions. One, we can watch a movie, or…”
“Yes?”
“You can let me make out with you for the length of time it would take us to watch a movie.”
“Wow,” she said with big eyes, “you can kiss for two hours?”
“I have other things on tap that last that long, but if you’d like to start with kissing, pucker up and set the egg timer. Is that what you use when you bake? An egg timer?”
“I don’t know,” she said, sliding into his lap facing him, “do you use an egg timer when you’re riding a bull for eight seconds?”
“Nope,” he said, letting her knock his hat to the ground. “I use my survival skills alarm.”
“I use my touch-it-and-see-if-it-springs-back timer,” she said with a teasing smile.
“I like your timer better than mine,” he said, rolling her underneath him. “Set it. Starting now.”
He kissed her hard and fast and hungrily. This was the way it should have always been—without Last between them. Valentine was breathless when he pulled away to look at her. “How is your survival skills alarm?” she asked.
“Banging wildly. How is your spring thing?”
“Just about ready to be sprung. Keep going.”
He did until Valentine knew that she had never been kissed so thoroughly in her life. Her eyes were teary, her body was on fire, and her desire was raging.
He looked at her. “You like kissing me.”
“Yes, I do. Too bad your leg is broken, or you could carry me to my bedroom.”
“That’s what this crutch is for, making you walk.” He picked up his crutch, shooing her along like a shepherd with a sheep. “I did not come all this way not to watch you walk. It’s fanny time!”
She turned around, walking backward. “I always suspected you were looking at my bum.”
“Lusting is the verb. Turn around.”
Turning, she dropped her blouse to the ground.
“Never mind,” he said, “you can walk backward if you like.”
She smiled. “I’m afraid you’re going to hurt something.”
“I probably will, but it will be worth it. Plus—” he fell onto the bed with her—“if I can break a leg saving my brother from Bloodthirsty, the very least I can do is hurt something for you.”
And then he kissed her, sliding her clothes from her body. Not near as patient, Valentine pulled off his shirt. “You take off your shorts. I’ll watch.”
He tossed his shorts and boxers to the floor.
“Oh, my,” she said.
“If you touch it, you’ll know whether it springs back,” he said, cupping possessive hands around her breasts.
She gasped. “I think all my baking rules just went out the window.”
“Good,” he said, sliding into her as he kissed her, “I want you to forget everything you ever knew besides me.”
She couldn’t remember anything, Valentine thought, as they lay in bed for the next two hours making love. He made her cry out time and again with pleasure, but the best thing was knowing that he wanted her so much.
CROCKETT AWAKENED to feel tap, tap, tapping on his arm. At first, he thought the roof had sprung a leak and water must be dripping in. He had Valentine wrapped in his arms so tightly she had to feel like a mummy. If he had his way, he was never letting go of her.
But still, something kept tapping on his arm.
Rolling over, he found Annette staring at him with big eyes. “Hi,” he said, wondering what the protocol for this scenario was and hoping he didn’t emotionally scar his niece.
Annette showed him her dolly.
“That’s nice, sweetie. Why aren’t you in bed?”
“Thirsty.”
“Okay. I am, too.” Gently, he drew a sheet over Valentine’s head so Annette wouldn’t see the two of them in bed together—that was probably good parenting, wasn’t it? “Take Dolly to the kitchen table, and I’ll be right there.”
She went off obediently. Careful not to awaken Valentine—who had blown his mind with her generous loving—he hopped into his shorts and shirt, grabbed a crutch and went down the hall.
“Okay, Annette,” he said. “Water?”
She nodded her head.
“Me, too.” He poured them both some ice water and set the glass and sippy cup on the table. She drank hers until it was empty and looked at him with big eyes.
“Aren’t you tired at all?”
Annette shook her head. He wasn’t tired, either. Being with Valentine had definitely energized his soul. Not knowing what to do, he glanced around the kitchen, noting the pretty lemon color on the walls and the eyelet draperies. “So,” he said to Annette. “Feeling tired yet?”
She shook her head.
Well, there was only one thing left to offer, which every good uncle knew was an irresistible magic charm. “How about a story?”
She smiled.
“Got a favorite one?”
Off down the hall she went, carrying a big book back with her.
“The Three Bears and Other Childhood Stories,” he read. Out of curiosity, he read the inside flap.
Annette, This was one of my father’s favorite things to read to us. I want to read it to you often. Love, Last.
Crockett’s eyes teared up as he snuggled Annette closer to his chest. Why had his brother left this beautiful baby? Crockett couldn’t help but think Last’s disappearance had something to do with the medicine-induced conversation they’d had.
“My father read to us all the time as kids. These were some of his favorites, along with Beowulf, and The Iliad. I’m honored to be reading words to you that my father read to me. That your father read to you,” he added, thinking of Last.
And when Valentine found them in the morning, the two of them were fast asleep under a woolly plaid afghan, the reading lamp on beside them, and their hands clasped together over the pages.
“WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEADS,” Valentine said. She put orange juice, pancakes and fruit on the table. “Anybody hungry?”
Annette hopped out of Crockett’s lap and went to the table. Valentine smiled at her daughter’s tousled head. Crockett followed her, his gaze showing his appreciation of the breakfast. “Mmm,” he said. He kissed her temple, and Valentine shivered.
“Actually, you’re my fave food, but I couldn’t say that in front of spud,” he whispered in her ear. “I like being your house husband.”
“You make it sound like sex slave,” she
whispered back.
“House husband, sex slave—it’s all the same to me.”
She paused. She liked this new easiness between them, but she needed to know where they stood. She’d realized yesterday she couldn’t afford to be flighty in her relationships. “Crockett, do you remember proposing to me?”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said sheepishly, as if he hadn’t wanted her to bring it up just yet. “Now, we don’t have to call that a proposal, if you’re going to get all huffy on me. We can call it an agreement offer, if you like.”
“Agreement offer?” The man was a nut, she decided, and it wasn’t all drugs.
“Yeah.” He smiled at her. “Marriage is hardly a novel idea. It’s a contract between two parties who each need something, and who stand to benefit from—”
“Crockett, I am not hurting financially,” she said. “I am not pining for you or any other man. I’m doing fine on my own.”
He nodded. “I’m very proud of you.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Just for the record, you do remember my No, thank you?”
He glanced up at her. “I didn’t think you were serious about that. I was thinking the offer was still on the table. I wouldn’t have come here otherwise.”
“You seemed pretty out of your head when you asked,” she said, ignoring the fact that she really liked the look of him sitting at her table across from her happy child. “I rejected your offer outright, the second time you called.”
He looked puzzled, and she took a deep breath. “When you called the second time. I said that I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man—”
“Oh. I see,” Crockett said. He rose awkwardly, balancing himself on his crutch.
“You see what?”
He shrugged. “I only called you once.”
“If you remember proposing, you must remember the rejection,” Valentine said.
“No, I don’t,” he said, hopping to the door, “because I didn’t make that second call. Last must have called after I did. He received your rejection. Maybe that’s why he left. I don’t know. What I do know is how you really feel about marrying me.”
