by Sandra Brown
He opened his eyes then and turned his head on the pillow they shared. “It’s strange, but I’ve always felt as if she were mine. Physically she looks like you, not Greg as you’ve described him to me, and then, too, I was there when she was born. As far as I’m concerned, she is unquestionably, ‘ours.’ ”
She had hugged him fiercely. “Would you ever consider adopting her? Making her name legally Dillon?”
“I’d love that, but I would never have asked you for it. Biologically she is Greg’s.”
“Yes, and I’ll want her to know that, to know about him. But he had no family after his mother, Sarah, died. You’re the only daddy my Sarah will ever have, and I think she’d rather share our name. All things considered, it would be much less confusing.”
“I want both of you to have my name. As soon as possible.”
Leigh’s face glowed warm at the memory of the kiss that followed. Yes, she had many reasons to be grateful to Charles Dean Dillon. She addressed both her parents. “I’ll be eternally thankful that Chad came upon me that day, that he was man enough to do what he did with sensitivity and care. But that’s not where my feelings stop. I love him. I want him to be my husband, my lover.”
“Oh, my God,” Lois groaned and placed her fluttering hand against her throat. “Leigh, you’re a new mother. Listen to yourself. Harve, say something,” she hissed to Leigh’s father. Never giving him a chance to obey her, she launched into her next string of objections.
“You told us yourself that night in the hospital that he looked like he could use money, a reward for helping you. Does he have a job? What does he do?”
Leigh didn’t want to broach that subject yet. She would learn to cope with Chad’s career, and cope with it she would. Loving him as she did, she was determined to overcome her antipathy for his work. Besides, her mother was asking about Chad’s profession for another reason entirely—to determine his financial and social status. She had never quite forgiven Leigh for marrying a mere government official. Would she ever be surprised, Leigh thought maliciously.
She smiled. “Yes, Mother. He has a job. He… uh… he works on oil wells.”
“A roughneck!” her mother screeched. “Leigh, think, for God’s sake! You’re intending to marry a roughneck who comes from God knows what and God knows where and will treat you God knows how. Harve,” Lois repeated, grinding out the name in an effort to urge him on.
“Leigh, honey, we’re not saying to call the wedding off, but it might be wise to postpone it until we’ve all had time to get to know each other. We can’t dictate what you do, you’re a grown woman, but you’re acting rashly. We don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve got not only yourself, but your baby to think of.”
Leigh took his objections one at a time. “First, we’re not postponing getting married. We’re not going to live together until we do, so we can hardly wait as it is. Second, you’ll both have a chance to get to know Chad today. He’s invited you to his house for lunch and I’ve accepted for you.” She ignored her mother’s distressed wail. “Third, I’m glad you recognize that I’m a grown woman, old enough and mature enough to make my own decisions. I’m telling you now that I’ll marry Chad whether you approve of him or not. And last but far from least, he adores Sarah and she him. Now, I think that’s everything. Chad will be here in half an hour and I still need to dress. Excuse me.”
There was a triumphant smile on her face as she left them in stunned silence. She put on a blue jersey sweater-dress Chad hadn’t seen before. The soft cowl collar caressed her jawline and that particular shade of cobalt blue deepened the blue of her eyes and enhanced her coloring. She awoke Sarah, who had been taking her morning nap, and dressed her in a frilly jump suit with legs like old-fashioned pantaloons.
When Leigh returned to the living room, her parents were where she had left them. Harve Jackson shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Lois sat in stern rigidity on the sofa.
“Will you sit in your swing like a nice girl until Chad gets here?” Leigh asked of Sarah.
“I disapprove of those contraptions, Leigh. I held you when you were a baby. You modern mothers think so little of your children.”
Leigh bit her lip in an effort not to lash out at her mother that no one could love a baby more than she loved Sarah. Instead, she answered levelly, “I know that holding and fondling are important, Mother. I spend hours with Sarah each day rocking her, petting her, but I do it at my whim, not hers. That way she doesn’t get spoiled into expecting me to drop everything and pick her up when she cries.”
“There’s nothing wrong with—”
The doorbell had never been such a welcome intrusion. “There’s Chad,” Leigh said quickly, going to the door and all but falling into his reinforcing arms. Now she wasn’t the only soldier to fight the battle at the front.
“Hi,” he said, catching her to him and, not caring that her parents were watching, kissing her thoroughly.
“Hi,” she responded when he released her. Her eyes warned him to prepare himself. He winked at her. Taking his arm, she pushed him forward. “Mother, Father, this is Chad Dillon. Chad, my parents, Lois and Harve Jackson.”
He turned to Lois and acknowledged the introduction with a nod of his head. Leigh’s mother didn’t extend her hand to be shaken. “Mrs. Jackson, I’m pleased to meet you. I hope Leigh has your recipe for potato salad. I ate some of yours here once. It was delicious.” He leaned forward to whisper, “Even better than my own mom’s, but don’t ever tell her I said so.”
Completely taken aback, and not knowing quite how to respond, Lois Jackson sputtered, “Well… th… thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said with more civility than warmth.
Chad turned to Harve. He was smiling on the young man who had managed to fluster his wife. “Sir,” Chad said, shaking Harve’s hand firmly. When the introductions were over, Chad knelt down to speak to Sarah, whose chubby, lace-bordered legs were pumping with excitement at the sound of his voice.
Leigh saw her mother taking in Chad as a skeptical insurance assessor would a wrecked car. Chad lacked nothing in the manners and grooming departments. That he was arrestingly handsome was apparent at a glance, and that he knew how to dress took only a little longer to determine. His camel-colored slacks fit him in a way only custom tailoring could achieve, and the cut of his dark brown coat had the unmistakable hallmarks of a noted French designer. Beneath the coat he wore a cream-colored cable-knit turtleneck sweater that accented the darkness of his hair.
He stood and rubbed his hands together in a gesture that was achingly familiar to Leigh. “I hope Leigh extended my invitation to lunch.”
“Yes, thank you, Chad,” Harve said before Lois could open her mouth in either acceptance or refusal.
“Then is everyone ready?” Chad asked.
Leigh could almost pity her mother as surprise after surprise unfolded, the first of which was the Ferrari. Leigh thought her mother’s eyes would pop out of their sockets at the sight of the gleaming blue sports car.
“Say, Chad, that’s some car!” Harve exclaimed as they trooped down the sidewalk.
“You’ll have to drive it sometime,” Chad offered graciously.
“I’d love to.” Leigh was surprised at her father’s enthusiasm, for he always drove a conservative Buick himself.
“I’m sorry it won’t hold everyone. Do you mind following us?” Chad asked.
“Not at all, not at all.” Harve steered his awestruck wife toward their car while Chad helped situate Leigh and the baby in the Ferrari.
When they were on their way, Chad glanced toward her. “Well?”
“They were adamantly opposed to the whole idea until you came in. Potato salad, indeed!”
He grinned. “Hell, I could tell right off I needed to come up with something terrific and ‘I can see where your daughter gets her good looks’ is such a cliché.”
Leigh laughed. “I’d say you scored points with your cleanliness, your clothes, and your car.”
/> “Cleanliness?”
“I think I mentioned that day you left me in the hospital that you were dirty from working on an airplane. I think that’s how they expected you to show up today.”
“You’re not playing fair, you know.”
“Why?”
“On a day when I have to be on my best behavior, did you have to wear a dress that clings so seductively to your beautifully rounded breasts, your slender waist, your compact little fanny, and your long, slender legs?”
“Chad,” she cried softly, “if my mother heard one thing that even sounded like breasts or fanny coming from you, she’d have palpitations of the heart.”
“What about your palpitations?” he asked slyly. His hand, which had been resting lightly on her thigh, moved up between her breasts to cup the left one, seemingly to count her heartbeats. “Lub dub, lub dub.”
Feigning indignation, she squirmed away from him. “My palpitations are fine, thank you. Please keep both hands on the steering wheel where my mother can see them.”
They both laughed and then Chad moaned a soft curse. “This is going to be a helluva long day.”
Leigh was sure whatever reservations Lois and Harve Jackson retained about their prospective son-in-law dissolved the minute they saw his house. She would have given a month’s wages to hear what was being said in the Buick as they pulled to a stop in Chad’s driveway.
He led them through the front door and Leigh saw that her mother’s mouth was slightly agape as her glazed eyes roamed the interior of the house. Chad treated the Jacksons with friendly politeness as he saw to their comfort and escorted them into the dining room. The table was set with an eye for detail, even the fresh-flower centerpiece of chrysanthemums and marigolds. Leigh helped Chad serve.
“Did you make the quiche?” Lois asked politely, taking a dainty bite.
Chad laughed and wiped his mouth on a cloth napkin. “No, ma’am. My housekeeper did. All I had to do this morning was put it in the oven. That I can handle.”
Leigh had looked in disbelief at the dishes Chad had selected for his menu. Knowing his appetite, she had expected meat and potatoes, or perhaps chili con carne, something hearty and substantial. But he’d had Mrs. De Leon prepare fruit compotes, mushroom and bacon quiche, spinach salad with mandarin oranges and almonds, and ice-cream parfaits served in delicate, long-stemmed glasses. Everything was delicious and attractively prepared, but Leigh choked with laughter every time she saw Chad taking a small bite of quiche.
Lois insisted that she and Leigh clear the table after lunch. Sarah had been fed and was making herself at home in the baby bed Chad had already installed in one of the four bedrooms. He and Harve had gone out to take practice shots on the putting green near the pool.
“You could have warned me, Leigh,” her mother said acerbically.
“About what?” Leigh asked innocently as she blotted up pastry crumbs from the linen tablecloth with a damp sponge.
“About… about all this,” Lois said, waving her hands around to encompass the house. “You led me to believe Chad Dillon was virtually impoverished.”
“When I fell in love with him, Mother, I thought he was. And I don’t consider all this opulence as one of Chad’s primary attractions, either. I love him for the man he is. I was hoping you and Dad would, too.”
“Oh, Leigh,” Lois said reproachfully. “I know you think I’m mercenary, but you don’t know what it’s like to be poor and I do. I saw my parents’ marriage founder under the strain of supporting four children on an inadequate income.” A shadow of pain crossed her face at the unpleasant memory. “Money may not bring happiness in itself, Leigh, but it’s impossible to be happy without it. Think how you’d feel if you couldn’t give Sarah nice presents for her birthdays and Christmas, had to dress her in hand-me-downs, couldn’t send her to college.”
Seeing her mother’s face crumple with a vulnerability that she had never before shown her daughter, Leigh was instantly contrite. Lois had rarely spoken of her own childhood, but Leigh felt she ought to have remembered that early deprivation was the cause of her mother’s obsession with material goods.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I know you only want the best for me. I just wanted you to see that Chad is the best, not because of what he has but because of who he is.”
“He’s sterling through and through,” Lois said stoutly. Leigh suppressed a smile at the image her mother had chosen as she put her arms around the older woman for a quick hug.
Lois Jackson returned her daughter’s embrace with a characteristic lack of effusiveness, but Leigh felt they had made some sort of separate peace. The two women were subdued when the men came back inside. Chad built a fire in the huge fireplace in his living room, the stone chimney of which disappeared into the ceiling two stories above.
He provided everyone except Leigh with a cup of coffee as they arranged themselves comfortably around the hearth. Chad seated himself next to Leigh on one of the plush sofas and pulled her under the security of his arm.
“Leigh said you worked on oil wells, Chad. Exactly what do you do?” Mr. Jackson asked.
“I work for Flameco.”
“Flameco,” Harve said, his forehead wrinkled in perplexity. “I’ve heard of it, but can’t quite place—”
“Wild-well control,” Chad provided quietly.
“Oh, my God!” Lois’s cup rattled loudly in her saucer until she set both on the small walnut table beside her chair. Her eyes riveted on Leigh, and for the first time that day, Leigh couldn’t find it within herself to face her mother. She looked down at her hands.
“You… uh… you put out oil-well fires?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What specifically is your job?”
Chad hitched his ankle over his knee. He was wearing a pair of brown dress shoes Leigh had never seen before. She wanted to concentrate on them rather than hear what he had to tell her father.
“The whole crew works together, of course, but my main job is to tap off the leak once the fire is out.”
“How does that work?”
“In lay terms, we put an explosive device over the leak where the fire is originating. When it explodes, it consumes the oxygen and puts out the initial flame. That’s when I go in with a multi-headed valve. I have to lock it down over the gas leak before another spark—”
Leigh’s shudder brought his words to an abrupt halt. He squeezed her shoulder and tried to smile at her. She refused to lift her head to the eyes she could feel on her, and instead continued to stare at his shoes.
“Very dangerous work, I would imagine,” Harve said candidly.
“Yes, sir, but carefully executed. We all know what we’re doing and taking no careless chances. Each fire is different and each one is studied thoroughly before we even set up.”
“How long have you been with the company?” Harve asked him. Lois and Leigh might as well have been mute for all the contributions they made to the conversation.
“Since I graduated from college, sir. Going on twelve years.” He paused for a moment. Leigh knew the blue eyes were boring into the top of her head. “That may be long enough. I’m giving it some thought.”
Leigh’s head came up with such a quick snap that it hurt her neck. “What?” she asked on a sharply indrawn breath. “What did you say?”
The hand that had been caressing her shoulder now smoothed down the glistening length of her hair. “I don’t want to make you any promises I can’t keep, Leigh, but you may not have long to worry about my career.”
Try as she might, she couldn’t get him to divulge more. He turned a deaf ear to all her pleas. Curiosity gnawing at her, she had to be content for the present with what small hint he had dropped. That he honored her aversion to his work and was weighing the problem in his mind was a relief. The loving way he looked at her made her think he was taking strides to eliminate the one remaining barrier between them and total happiness.
After that, they lapsed into desultory conversation. At one p
oint Harve nodded off and jumped when Lois barked his name. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he yawned. “Why don’t you two go out to a movie or something? Lois and I will stay with Sarah. A young couple about to get married doesn’t need to be sitting around with old folks. They need some time alone together. And I doubt Sarah’s given you much of that.” He winked at Chad.
“That’s a very generous offer, sir,” Chad said with austere politeness, but when he looked at Leigh, his eyes were dancing. “Leigh, how about it? Dare we leave them at Sarah’s mercy?”
A few minutes later they were on their way, after having made sure the Jacksons knew Sarah’s schedule, where there was food and drink to be found, and approximately when the couple would return.
“Thanks, again,” Chad called to Harve Jackson as he closed the door behind them. Starting the car, Chad was like a truant from school. “I can’t believe it. A few hours alone!”
“You know, of course, that my mother will pry into your every nook and cranny. I hope you have nothing to hide.”
“I’m the epitome of discretion.”
“You’ve behaved like a perfect gentleman all day.”
“Well, the perfect gentleman is about to become a beast,” he said with a pretended snarl and, braking at a stop light, leaned across the console to kiss her.
The light eventually turned green, but the driver behind them had to honk his horn three times before they became aware of it. Leigh tried to regain her breath from the smoldering kiss as Chad accelerated the car. “A movie sounds great. We’ve never been to a movie together,” he said. “But first things first.” He wheeled into a steak house with a grinning longhorn steer pointing toward the door in friendly fashion from the billboard outside. Leigh collapsed with laughter.
“I wondered how long you were going to hold out!”
“I’m starving,” he admitted and pushed out of the car.
She watched while he ate a chicken-fried steak with an inch of crunchy breading smothered in rich gravy. Two thick slices of Texas toast and a heaping platter of French fries completed the meal, though he promised himself dessert in the movie.