She glared at him. "That's hard to do when you take up so much space."
He raised an eyebrow sardonically. "One small chair?"
He seemed to dominate the room. She felt his presence where she sat. A quick glance at her sisters surprised her. Didn't they feel that magnetism, the power? Was she alone affected?
Michelle and Abby were comfortable on the sofa, Abby with her feet on the coffee table. Eugenia would have had a fit to see that.
They looked at her. Michelle's expression was speculative. Abby grinned.
"It's nice to have a man around. This house was too long just women."
"He's not staying," Caroline murmured, annoyed her sisters didn't seem to see anything awkward or wrong about Brandon's being here.
When the food finally arrived, Caroline insisted they eat in the dining room, though her sisters had opted for the more informal kitchen table. Caroline didn't want informality or a semblance of coziness with Brandon. She needed to keep him at a distance to keep her own emotions under control.
Even with the length of the table between them, however, she was aware of his every move. Of how he cut his egg roll. Of the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the way his hands held the teacup, the way his hot gaze focused on her more often than she wanted.
The meal seemed endless and Caroline thought she'd go crazy.
When they finished, Abby and Michelle insisted on doing the few dishes they'd used.
Caroline faced Brandon. "We could talk now," she said, certain she wouldn't sleep a wink if she didn't discover why he'd come.
"Not tonight, Caroline. You look exhausted. Why not get a good night's sleep first?" Brandon said gently.
Great—he thought she looked awful. Not the words a woman wanted to hear. Especially from a man she'd like to show she'd managed fine without.
Abby popped back into the dining room and wiped up the table. "Am I interrupting?"
Caroline shook her head and rose. "Not at all."
She'd have argued with Brandon, but he was right, she was too tired to even think straight.
"I'm going up to bed."
"Good idea," Brandon said, his dark eyes mocking.
"Are you all right?" Abby asked.
"I'll be fine once I get some rest."
And once she got away from Brandon.
She prayed Eugenia's estate would be clear-cut and easy to deal with. If there was no need for Brandon's help, he could leave tomorrow when her sisters left.
After they had that talk he wanted. Was he going to ask for a divorce? Had he found someone else?
She felt numb. It was long past time to make a decision, to release their bond and let them each continue their lives.
Yet somehow she'd never thought about divorce.
She wasn't sure she wanted one. Yet why not? They hadn't lived together for five years. She'd made a new life for herself in Dallas. He'd obviously succeeded in New Orleans. Maybe he'd leave in the morning.
She needed time alone to close up the house and search through her grandmother's papers to see if she could discover anything at all surrounding her father's disappearance. She did not need to deal with Brandon at the same time.
As Caroline prepared for bed, she forced her thoughts away from her estranged husband and tried to remember as much as she could about her father. He'd married her mother for her money and when it wasn't forthcoming, he left. That is, if the teachings of a lifetime could be believed. It was what they'd been told by their grandmother who blamed him for her only daughter's death.
But Eugenia Talmadge's delirious words during her final weeks raised strong doubts in Caroline's mind.
Caroline grew up believing her father deserted her mother, broke her heart and caused her depression which resulted in an early death. Eugenia insisted that when she refused to settle any money on him, he'd turned his back on his children, his responsibilities, and had taken off for greener pastures. His wife and family hadn't been enough to hold him.
But was that the whole story?
Was it even a semblance of the truth?
She wished she'd tried to get more information from her grandmother. But the fever that raged had her delirious much of that time, and when the fever was gone, she refused to talk at all.
After Caroline left Brandon excused himself and went out onto the wide veranda. The sultry night air felt good after the sterile coolness inside the house.
He walked to the edge and gazed over the dark lawn. He'd have to call the office first thing tomorrow and inform his assistant he wouldn't be in on Monday. Reviewing the meetings he had on his calendar, he'd also have her reschedule a few. He could make calls from here.
They hadn't stayed often at the old home. Eugenia had done all she could to make it an unwelcoming place when Caroline married against her wishes. He let his mind wander. He was surprised to realize once he'd seen her he'd wanted Caroline again. Irrational, he knew. And lately everything he did had a logic that made for no wasted emotion, no wrong moves. For years he'd tried to put her out of his mind. Sometimes even succeeding for a few weeks at a time.
Then he'd see someone who reminded him of her. Or catch a hint of the perfume she used to wear or hear a song she loved. Defying logic, memories would flood to the surface.
Sometimes he'd dream about her.
It was past time to cut the tie, to get her out of his life and move on.
Yet seeing her raised familiar longings. What was there about Caroline that captivated him? That caused a ruthless, logical businessman to postpone a confrontation and stay when she so clearly didn't want him? Had she missed him at all these last years? Did she ever regret the way things played out?
Caroline slept in late the next morning. Once awake, she felt refreshed for the first time since she'd come home. Dressing quickly, she went to find her sisters. They were in the kitchen already preparing lunch. Feeling extraneous, she leaned against the counter and chatted with them while Michelle prepared a shrimp salad, a fruit salad and a plate of cold cuts.
Abby set the table and called Brandon.
Scarcely greeting Brandon, Caroline sat and hoped she could eat with the butterflies in her stomach.
Michelle looked at Abby and Caroline and then spoke,
"Caroline, I'm sorry to leave you with all the work regarding the estate, but if it makes it any easier, I for one never plan to live in this house again and vote we sell it."
Surprised, Brandon looked at Caroline. "I thought this was your family home. Hasn't it been in your family for generations?"
She nodded.
"Do you want to sell?" he asked.
For a moment Caroline thought about it. She hadn't looked beyond discovering what she could about her father's disappearance. Michelle's idea had merit.
"Might as well. I don't live here."
There were few happy memories, more of those of a bitter old woman who cherished prestige and power and money and didn't care who she stepped on to get it.
"Me, neither," Abby said firmly. "I couldn't wait to escape when I graduated from high school. Sell the blasted thing. We can split the money and Michelle and I can buy something more suitable for our current life-styles. I love New Orleans. With my share from the sale, maybe I could buy a condo or something like you did in Dallas."
Brandon looked up at that. "How long have you lived in Dallas? I thought you lived here with Eugenia," he said slowly.
"Almost five years,” she said.
"What do you do there?"
She could tell this was all news to him. Not that she expected him to keep up with her after she left. If he'd ever gotten in touch with her, he'd have known of the changes she made to cope.
"I work in real estate." She said briefly. She looked at her sisters.
"We'd need to go through everything so I know what to keep and what to get rid of before we put the house up for sale. Once we clear out any clutter, we can stage the place to show best, then collect any furniture we want after the sale," Caroli
ne said slowly, already dreading the monumental task of sorting through several generations of accumulated furniture, clothes and memorabilia before they could put the place up for sale.
"Goodness, what an undertaking. I'll come up on weekends," Michelle said. "This is our busiest time or I'd ask for more vacation days."
"I'll come up on my days off," Abby added. "And see if I can swap some time with other nurses."
Caroline nodded. "I'll get started and y'all come and help when you can."
Abby and Michelle looked at Brandon. "Maybe you could lend a hand," Abby said brightly.
Brandon nodded, his gaze fixed on Caroline. "I'll stay for a couple of days."
"You don't have to stay at all!" she snapped.
Brandon shrugged. "I'll stay another day or two in case you need some muscle. And maybe learn more about Dallas. I thought you were living with Eugenia—having tea with the garden club or giving a tour at one of the historic homes."
Abby and Michelle looked from one to the other. "She didn't want to stay here anymore than we did. You know what grandmother was like," Abby said.
Brandon nodded, his expression thoughtful.
The two sisters planned to leave shortly after lunch.
Once packed, Michelle sought Caroline. She found her sister in the study going through some of the papers on the desk.
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked, closing the door softly behind her. Crossing to sit on the edge of the desk, she looked closely at her sister.
"I'm tired. It's been an exhausting few weeks. And Brandon's unexpected reappearance hasn't helped. I'll be fine in a day or two."
"Brandon looks good," Michelle said, playing with the letter opener.
"No matchmaking," Caroline warned. "I won't be drawn in again."
Michelle shrugged and glanced around the room. "It was a long time ago, sis. People change. Men never say much, but maybe he came because he wants another chance."
"I doubt it." But for an instant a flicker of hope glimmered. Could that be the reason for Brandon's visit?
"Why else would he show up?"
"I have no idea...he's scarcely said two words to me." She didn't want to tell her she thought it might be about a divorce. If so, why was he offering to stay?
"Give him a break. He hasn't had a moment alone with you since he arrived."
Caroline kept silent. She wondered why Brandon had really come. Was he trying to make amends? Had he changed?
It didn't matter. The chasm was too large. If she couldn't depend on her husband in a time of crisis, she'd rather go it alone.
"He'll be gone in a day or so and things will go on," Caroline said slowly. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she would ever regain her strength, ever feel full of energy again.
"It's odd to know Grandmother's gone. She was such a strong force in our lives," Michelle said, idly tracing patterns with the letter opener.
"Too strong," Caroline said. "She wasn't happy unless she could run things—even our lives. She practically forced me to date that friend of hers, Thomas Sinclair, and he's years older than I. She kept harping on what a wonderful alliance that would be."
"Is that why you never divorced—to make sure you couldn't be persuaded into an alliance?" Michelle asked unexpectedly, looking directly at Caroline.
"Alliance. Isn't that dynastic? I never thought about it before, but do you suppose that's what she and grandfather had—an alliance instead of a happy marriage?" Caroline asked, deliberately sidestepping her sister's personal question.
She wished she knew for sure the reason Brandon had come.
"I don't know. She sure was taken with the Talmadge name. It always seemed as if she thought it deserves some kind of monument or something. And she just married into it. It wasn't as if she'd been born into the family. She wasn't really a Talmadge."
Caroline looked at her sister. "We aren't really Talmadges, either, you know."
Michelle looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh, yes, you're right. I almost forgot."
"Eugenia was Mama's mother. But when Mama married our father, she took his last name. She obviously took the Talmadge name back after the divorce and changed ours to match."
"Because she was so angry at our father she didn't want us to use his name, do you suppose?"
Caroline shrugged, longing to tell her sister what Eugenia had muttered over and over.
Suddenly she had more questions than she could count.
What had happened twenty-three years ago? Had their father really abandoned them as they'd always been told? And if so where was he now? Was there any way to find out the truth? Searching for answers had to come second to getting the house ready for sale. But she'd be on the lookout for anything that might give her a clue.
Caroline saw her sisters off later that afternoon, remaining on the veranda after the taillights disappeared down the long driveway. Even in the shade, the afternoon felt oppressive. Conscious of Brandon standing a few feet away, watching her, she shivered despite the heat and crossed her arms across her chest. If he didn't stop watching her every move, he'd drive her crazy!
Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked at him, tilting her chin, drawing on years of training under the eagle eye of Eugenia Talmadge.
"You can leave now as well," she said politely, the edge of frustration coloring her tone.
Slowly he smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes as he stood leaning against one of the support pillars, his arms across his broad chest, his shirtsleeves rolled up. He had to be hot in the late afternoon sun, but he looked cool and controlled.
"I don't think so, Caroline. We have some unfinished business between us and now's as good a time as any to get it resolved, wouldn't you say?"
"Is that why you came? To talk about the past?"
"Why I came isn't as important as why I'm staying."
"And why is that?"
"I told you, to get things resolved."
"Seems to me we resolved things five years ago."
"Really?" He stepped forward, his arms dropping to his sides. "And I said running away never solved anything. Did you ever think about me after you left, Caroline?"
Before she could even think of a response, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.
Shocked, Caroline felt the past and present merge until she had no idea where she was.
Brandon's lips moved against hers as passionately as ever, as familiar as her own heartbeat. For a long moment the world stood still. Every cell in Caroline's body recognized Brandon's touch, his taste, his scent. His fingers threaded into her hair as he cradled her head in his strong hands. The world spun and Caroline almost forgot the years that had separated them. Almost forgot the painful past and the tragedy that had ripped their world apart.
She couldn't think, couldn't remember, could only feel. Feel the spiraling sensations that danced throughout her. Feel the glorious heat that warmed her soul. Feel the past and present swirl together until there was only timeless floating.
Endless eons later, Brandon raised his face, his eyes narrowed as he took in her bemused expression. When his features hardened, she drew back, realizing instantly what she'd allowed. What she'd participated in. What she'd enjoyed.
"I didn't leave you, Brandon. I left an empty apartment." She bit out the words, and whirled, walking swiftly toward the front door.
Confusion gripped her. How could she have responded so fervently? She should have pulled back at the first sign he wanted to kiss her. But she hadn't expected it.
And once he touched her she'd been lost.
He swung around and called after her, "You don't have your grandmother to run to this time, Caroline. There's just you and me here now."
She paused by the door and stiffened. "And pretty soon there'll only be me, Brandon. You won't stay. I don't seem to have much luck with men staying in my life, do I?"
"What men?" His voice was sharp.
She turned to look at him. "First my father, then you. Isn't that enough
?"
"If you are comparing me to your father, maybe you should also compare yourself with your mother. What part did she play in driving him away?"
"What do you mean?"
"I still remember your telling me how you felt by his abandoning you and your sisters when you were a child. But maybe part of the fault lay with your mother. Maybe you and I were only repeating history—maybe she left him."
"Actually," Caroline began slowly, the urge to share her discovery too strong to resist. "I'm not sure he did leave. Voluntarily, that is."
"What do you mean?"
She hesitated. "I guess it can't hurt to tell you." She gazed over the wide expanse of lawn gathering her thoughts. "Something my grandmother said before she died makes me wonder if my father left of his own volition or was driven away. She made it sound as if she'd something to do with his leaving. She forced him to go."
"How could he have been driven away by Eugenia?"
"I don't know. That's what I plan to find out. All my life I've thought it was something I did that made him leave. Maybe he didn't want little girls, what if he wanted sons instead. Or maybe I was too bratty."
"For heaven's sake, you were four when he left. You couldn't have done anything to drive a man away."
She nodded. "Rationally, as an adult, I know that. I think I know that. But we're talking about a child growing up. My mother was dead, my father gone. Kids take on responsibility when there's none there. He could have left because of me, because he didn't want to be tied down with a child."
"Highly unlikely. If he hadn't wanted a child, they would have stopped at one, not had two more—although if you were only four at the time, I assume he wouldn't even have known about your mother being pregnant with Abby."
She shrugged. "I don't know much about it, but I plan to find out. If there is anything in Grandmother's papers, I'll find it."
"What are you expecting, some sort of journal in which she confesses all?" he asked.
Caroline lifted her chin. "That's unlikely, I know. Yet there might be something somewhere. I said it wouldn't be easy. But knowing the truth might make a world of difference to me. Especially if I find out he didn't deliberately abandoned me—us."
Letters to Caroline (The Talmadge Sisters Book 1) Page 3