“Good question,” King said appreciatively. “Well, Walker, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Before responding, Walker glanced at Tommy, who was half in his lap, seemingly sound asleep. Satisfied, he tried to make his point to Daisy’s father and brother clear. “I say that you two are not the ones I intend to have this conversation with.”
“Was it an impulse, one you’re already regretting?” Tucker asked pointedly.
“I told you, I am not having this conversation.”
“Dammit, boy, you owe her,” King said. “Damned near cost her her job. If it weren’t for me, she’d be out on the street right this minute.”
Walker stared at him. “What are you talking about? Has something more happened?”
“Had a talk with the school board president just tonight. He and the board were ready to fire her, till I made them see reason.”
“Bullied them, in other words,” Tucker said.
“Damned straight I did. She’s my daughter. What would you have me do? Sit back and let them ruin her life? I don’t give two figs if Daisy never sets foot in the classroom again, but she does. She loves teaching, loves those kids. The woman ought to have a whole passel of them at home.”
He glared at Walker. “When it comes to the school board, my influence will only go so far. An engagement ring—or better yet, a wedding ring—on her finger would do the rest.”
Walker thought about that, thought about Tucker’s earlier question about whether his proposal had been nothing but an impulse, one he regretted. There was no denying the words had come out of his mouth before he’d had a chance to consider them, but he hadn’t wanted to take them back. Not for a single second. He hadn’t felt relieved when she’d thrown the proposal right back in his face. He’d felt let down.
“Can I say something?” Tommy piped up, startling all of them.
Walker gazed down at the boy who was curled snugly against his side.
“Everyone else has an opinion. I might as well hear yours, too,” he told him.
“I think you should send her flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. Girls like that,” he said confidently. “And candy. Mommy used to get all teary when I’d give her a box of candy, even when it was kinda squished.”
“And maybe a gallon of cherry vanilla ice cream, now and then,” Tucker chimed in.
Walker rolled his eyes. “I’m getting courting advice from a ten-year-old and a bachelor with no prospects in sight.” He gazed at King. “You have any advice you’d like to share?”
King’s expression turned thoughtful before he finally nodded. “I might at that. I’ve got her mama’s diamond ring at home. It was my mother’s before that. Women like a sentimental touch like that.”
Walker stared at him in shock. “You’d give me that ring to offer Daisy?”
“It’s hers by right and, yes, if it’ll get the job done, I’ll give it to you.”
Walker was more touched by the evidence of King’s unspoken approval than he had been by anything in a long time. He knew it wasn’t given lightly. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
“Nothing to thank me for,” King said gruffly. “For some reason you make her happy. That’s all I want for any of my kids.” He grinned. “Doesn’t hurt that I found out you’re not a Yankee, after all. Why did you let me think you were?”
“You were enjoying it so much, why ruin your fun?” Walker said. “Besides, you wouldn’t have been all that impressed by my Southern bloodlines, either.”
“No man born in Richmond, capital of the Confederacy, can be all bad.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Walker retorted, thinking of the father who’d abandoned them before Tommy’s mother had been out of diapers. Trent Ames might have been Southern, but he was no gentleman. He was scum to the core.
“Okay,” Tucker said, starting the boat’s engine. “Now that Daisy’s future has been settled—”
“With everyone except Daisy,” Walker pointed out, not nearly as confident of the outcome as they apparently were.
“You’ll get the job done,” King reassured him. “But it might do to use a little more finesse the next time you pop the question.”
“Let’s just get back to shore so Walker can have that arm looked at by the doctor and the two of us can sit down and go over what he learned about our suspects tonight,” Tucker said. “I’d like to try to salvage something from this, so the night’s not a total loss.”
Walker felt Tommy’s tug on his shirt. He looked down into the boy’s sleepy eyes.
“Is Daisy going to be my mom?”
“I’m going to do my best to see that she is,” Walker promised.
“Will it be okay if I still miss my real mom?”
Tears stung Walker’s eyes. “It will always be okay to miss your mother. I miss her, too.”
“She was the best, huh?”
Walker thought of the bright-eyed, beautiful, rebellious girl he’d loved, but hadn’t been able to protect. “She was the best,” he echoed.
“Marry him, indeed,” Daisy blustered all the way back to the Trinity Harbor marina. “Is the man crazy?”
Bobby, to his credit, didn’t utter a word until they were back at the dock, probably because he knew she would have tried to toss him overboard if he’d opened his mouth. She was livid enough to do it. Anger that deep was no doubt accompanied by a powerful adrenaline rush. She almost regretted Bobby’s discretion, because she was itching for a fight, longing to do something physically violent. Shredding a handful of marina cocktail napkins that she’d grabbed to staunch Walker’s bleeding wasn’t getting the job done.
“Daisy, maybe this is none of my business,” Bobby began cautiously as he tied up his boat at the dock.
“It’s not.”
“But you’re crazy in love with the guy,” he continued determinedly.
“I am not.”
“Of course you are.”
“I think I know my own mind, Bobby Spencer.”
“I see the way you look at him. Just as important, I see the way he looks at you, like he’s a little dazed and bewildered. Couldn’t you maybe give the guy a break? He’s struggling here. He’d just been shot, for goodness’ sakes. The proposal was well-intentioned, even if it wasn’t all dressed up in pretty words. In fact, I’d say you could trust something spoken under these circumstances a whole lot more than if he’d planned it all out.”
“Maybe,” she conceded. Sometimes the truth was blurted out in moments of stress.
“Think about it,” Bobby urged. “You don’t want to throw this opportunity away.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting this might be my last chance to catch a man?” she demanded irritably.
He regarded her with the patient expression that men tended to get when they were at their most patronizing.
“Of course not,” he chided in a tolerant tone. “I’m suggesting that you’re inclined to cut off your nose to spite your face, to manufacture reasons not to do something you badly want to do.”
“When I want counseling regarding my love life, I’ll get it from someone who doesn’t cook for a living.”
Bobby flinched at the scathing description of his gourmet skills, but he stood his ground. “I may be a chef, but I’m also your brother. Nobody understands you the way I do, the way Tucker does. I know that the only thing you’ve wanted your whole life long is to have a family. Goodness knows, you tried your best to mother the two of us, even though you were barely a year older than Tuck and two years older than me. Seems to me you have a darned fine family right under your nose, if only you’re not too stubborn and full of pride to admit it.”
She frowned, not daring to believe that Walker’s lukewarm proposal could have been based on genuine emotion rather than duty. “I hate it when you throw logic back in my face.”
“Then forget the logic and listen to your heart. You want to marry him. I know you do. You love him, pure and simple. Don’t throw that away. Not many people in
this world are willing to tangle with a Spencer for the long haul. We’re a daunting bunch.”
She studied his face intently. “Has somebody turned you down?”
“Not lately.”
She thought back to the one love of Bobby’s life, at least the only one she knew about. “You’re talking about Ann-Marie, aren’t you?”
“That’s ancient history, and I wasn’t really in love with her,” he denied a little too heatedly.
“Could have fooled me and everybody else in Trinity Harbor. I thought you were destined to be together.”
“Well, destiny took a wrong turn and she married somebody else. No big deal.”
Daisy wasn’t buying it. It had been a big deal. In fact, she suspected that was why Bobby was so consumed with buying up half the town and getting a five-star rating for his restaurant. He wanted to prove that he was the better man, and he wanted to do it in a way that would be visible to Ann-Marie and her husband, who also happened to be Bobby’s one-time best friend and biggest rival.
“You work too hard,” she told him.
He scowled. “How did we get from you and Walker to my work habits?”
“You need to meet somebody new.”
“New people come through the door of the restaurant every single day. Boaters dock at the marina, too. I live my life among strangers.”
“But how many of them do you actually meet? You need a social life. When was the last time you had a real date?”
“Not that long ago,” he said defensively.
“When?” she persisted.
“I went to the VFW dance with Marge Lefkowicz.”
Marge was the hostess at Bobby’s restaurant and a long-time friend, not a potential lover. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” Daisy said, “but wasn’t that last fall, and didn’t you go as a favor to try to make her boyfriend jealous?”
“Damn but you have a long memory.”
“It serves me well at times like this.” She regarded him thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll start looking around for the right woman for you.”
“Don’t you dare,” Bobby said, his expression horrified. “I will handle my own love life as I see fit.”
“Then stay out of my relationship with Walker.”
“I thought you said you didn’t have one or want one.”
“Oh, go suck an egg,” she snapped, and scrambled out of his boat and onto the dock. Sometimes having brothers was almost as big a trial as being King Spencer’s daughter.
24
Walker carried the now-sleeping Tommy into Daisy’s house, trying not to notice how badly his arm ached. He’d refused the pain pills the doctor had offered, and he suspected he was going to come to regret it.
He glanced around with some trepidation as he entered the brightly lit kitchen, waiting for Daisy to launch into another full-scale attack. He was too exhausted to cope with that right now. In fact, about the only thing that appealed to him was the thought of a steaming hot shower and crawling into bed—hers, if he had his way. Not very likely, he conceded, given the way she’d stormed off earlier.
So far, so good, he thought as he crept through the kitchen and headed for the stairs. He got Tommy into his room and into bed, then went looking for a bottle of aspirin in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Nothing, not so much as a children’s strength ibuprofen. He muttered a curse, then stepped into the hall and right into Daisy’s path.
“Looking for these?” she inquired mildly, holding up a bottle of extra-strength painkillers in one hand and peroxide in the other.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” he said, studying her warily. There was a gleam in her eyes he didn’t like one bit. He held out his hand for the supplies.
“Oh, no,” she said, shooing him toward his room. “I intend to take a look at that wound.” Her chin shot up. “And if I don’t like what I see, I’m calling the doctor.”
“I’ve already been seen by a doctor, thank you very much.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Let me see.”
He displayed the bandage, amused by her obvious disappointment. “You were really looking forward to dousing me with that peroxide, weren’t you?”
“As a matter of fact, I was.”
“Not feeling particularly compassionate?”
“Nope.”
He searched her face for a clue about what was really going on in that complicated mind of hers. “I didn’t intentionally put Tommy in danger, you know.”
Shock spread across her face. “Of course you didn’t. I know that. If anything, it was my fault for allowing him to sneak out of the house.”
Walker sighed. “Nevertheless, I thought you might be thinking of using what happened tonight to go running off to Frances and stake your own claim for custody.”
“Don’t be absurd. I hate it when people use children as a pawn in their own fights. Tommy’s your nephew, and it’s clear that you love him and that you’re ready to be a father to him. I’ve accepted that.”
“A boy needs a mother, too,” he said cautiously.
Her hand shook as she handed him the aspirin and a glass of water. “I’m not discussing that with you.”
“I think you got the wrong impression earlier.”
“You have no idea what impression I got,” she retorted. “I’m not marrying you, Walker Ames, and that’s that.”
She turned her attention to the kitchen counter, which she began scrubbing with a vengeance. Walker snagged her hand, noting the alarm that flared in her eyes.
“This thing between us isn’t over just because you say so,” he said softly.
“There is nothing between us,” she stated firmly, though she wasn’t able to control the patches of color that rose in her cheeks.
“I say there is.” He ran the pad of his thumb along her jaw and saw that telltale color heighten. “And it’s just getting started.”
She took a determined step away from him. “Talking won’t make it so, Walker.” She picked up that sponge and attacked the counter again, then started snatching dishes out of the dishwasher and slamming them back into the cupboards with so much force, he was surprised they didn’t shatter.
“How was the dinner with the Finches?” he asked, hoping the neutral topic would settle her down. They hadn’t had time to talk about it earlier when he’d stopped by for a quick visit with Tommy before going out on the river.
She stilled. Her expression turned thoughtful as she faced him. “Weird, as a matter of fact. She’s uptight, and he’s not very friendly. Frankly, I’m surprised they even accepted the invitation.”
“Maybe they did it for Gary’s sake.”
“Maybe. Tommy invited Gary to spend the night, but his father refused to give him permission. Gary looked as if that was what he’d expected. I’ve never seen a boy his age look so…I don’t know…defeated, I guess.”
Walker regretted that he hadn’t been there to pick up on the vibes for himself. “Abuse?” he asked, thinking out loud.
Daisy looked stricken. “I never thought of that. I’ve read about the way abuse victims behave sometimes, but I’ve never seen it. Maybe that’s it. Or maybe Paul Finch is just a strict disciplinarian.”
“Maybe,” Walker agreed, but he vowed to spend a little more time with Gary and his dad to see if he could get a sense of what was going on there.
“You look exhausted,” Daisy said. “Why don’t you go on up to your old room and get some sleep?”
“You want me to stay here? Isn’t that a bad idea under the circumstances?”
“It’s for one night, and if anybody wants to make something of it, I’ll remind them you were shot tonight and somebody had to look after you.”
“Does that mean you’re going to come upstairs and play nurse?” he inquired, grinning at her.
She frowned at the teasing. “Don’t count on it, Detective.”
He made his way to the stairs, then turned back to find her staring after him. “You might be surprised to discover what I’m counting on, Daisy Spencer.”
“He’s driving me crazy,” Daisy announced to Anna-Louise the next afternoon when she dropped by the parsonage on her way home from work. She needed some of her friend’s calming chamomile tea and sensible advice.
“What else is new?” Anna-Louise inquired, her eyes flashing with amusement.
“Even with everything that’s going on, I let him stay at the house last night,” she admitted. “I couldn’t stand the thought of sending him away with an injured arm.”
“Of course not.”
“That has to be the last time, though.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t expect to keep staying there. He understands what’s at stake. If he doesn’t, I’m sure King and your brothers will be happy to remind him.”
“I don’t think they’ll help,” Daisy said ruefully. “They seem to have gotten the insane idea that he’s right, that I should marry him.”
“It would solve a number of problems,” Anna-Louise pointed out.
“Now there’s a romantic prospect. Marry the man because it’ll put an end to a few pesky little problems.” Daisy scowled. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, of course. And being on the brink of being fired is hardly a ‘pesky little problem.’ You have to start taking it seriously, Daisy. Your principal certainly isn’t being any help. And King’s intimidation tactics can only go so far. I hate to think what would happen if Richard got wind of that.” She shuddered.
“Got wind of what?” her journalist husband inquired, suddenly appearing in the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Anna-Louise said. “Anything you hear in this room, in this house, out of my mouth, ever, is confidential. Not for publication. Not for attribution.”
He grinned. “I get your drift,” he said as he bent down to kiss her.
Anna-Louise nodded. “Just wanted to be sure.”
“So what did King do?” he asked.
“You were eavesdropping,” Anna-Louise accused.
“I was coming into my own kitchen to get a glass of iced tea. This isn’t the sacred confessional,” he protested.
“Our church doesn’t have confessionals. Sometimes my kitchen serves the same purpose. Remember that.”
About That Man Page 30
