He cleared his throat and smiled at her when she stepped back. "Hey. You came."
"Of course. I told you I was coming. What a great turnout."
"They're here for Charlie. Just like you are." He reminded her of what she'd said last night.
"You're going to hold that against me forever, aren't you?" But she was smiling as she said it. "I hadn't heard you were going to be here, too. I'm not in the Livingston art loop, I'm afraid. Obviously a lot of people did know." She nodded at the crowd milling around. "They're here for both of you. You've done well. I see some stickers."
There were bright blue circles indicating sales in the bottom right-hand corner of several of his photos.
"My sisters probably," Deke said.
Erin shook her head. "I bought the Canyon de Chelly one."
"You did? Why did you do that? Hell, I'd have given it to you."
"I bought it because I like it. It … speaks to me." The photo was of a young Navajo shepherd boy with a flock of sheep. They were dwarfed by the red rock canyon walls, but the boy was looking up and there was a single narrow strip of blue sky above. "All your photos have sky," Erin said, having discovered what few others had. "But this one had hope, this boy had dreams. This picture had it all."
She smiled at him, and Deke stared at her, dazed. It was as if she'd seen right into the heart of him exactly the way she used to. It was as if the past fifteen years hadn't intervened at all.
"Deke!" Milly appeared behind Erin's shoulder, looking agitated, waving her fingers at him. "Deke!"
He tore his gaze away from Erin. "What? What do you want?" He didn't want to talk to anybody else, didn't want to see anybody else, didn't want to bother.
"Mom's here," Milly said. "Dad's with her!"
And Deke felt his stomach do a triple somersault. All those hopes he'd banished came rushing back. All his dreams of reconciliation, of making his father proud, of the two of them finally coming to terms once more filled his head.
Erin reached out and patted his arm. "Go on," she said. "It's your night. Go see him."
"But—"
But Erin melted away into the crowd of folks her parents had brought with them from Bozeman, and Deke was left standing there watching his parents work their way up the length of the room. Of course they had to look at Charlie's photos. It was first and foremost Charlie's show—and of course the Malones were unfailingly polite.
So Deke clenched his water glass and waited. Held his breath as he watched. His father didn't look happy to be there. He looked, in fact, as though he were in pain.
He was staring distractedly at one of Charlie's photos of some bears fishing in a stream while his wife talked to Charlie's wife, Cait.
Milly tugged Deke's hand. "Come and talk to him."
But Deke couldn't. "Let him look. I'm not goin' anywhere."
"Stubborn cuss." Milly shook her head.
"I'll be here," Deke said firmly, his fingers strangling the water glass, wishing it were something else. Straight whiskey wouldn't have gone amiss right now.
"Oh, Deke! Here you are!" His mother, spotting him, flew at him. "Isn't this wonderful? The photos are stunning. And all these people!"
"Uh-huh," he said, distracted, watching his father over her head. The old man was standing quite still now, staring at the wall. "Glad you got here."
"I'm sorry we're late. John was working—"
"I'm surprised he's here."
"Of course he came." She glanced back toward her husband. Will Jones was talking to him now, pointing out Deke's photos, slinging his arm over John Malone's shoulder and guiding him from one to the next.
Deke tried to gauge his father's reactions and listen to his mother's cheerful comments at the same time. She was effusive. His father's jaw was clenched. Was that sweat beading his upper lip?
Cripes, was he going to have an anxiety attack just because he'd had to come to a gallery reception for his son? Deke wondered.
Will took him all the way around the annex, making sure Deke's father got a good look at every picture. Then Deke heard him say, "Come on over and sit a spell. Reckon Deke will want to talk to you about them."
John Malone shook his head. "Can't. Got to get back to work." And leaving Will Jones standing there, he turned toward the door. "Can't stand around here wasting a whole evening. Shelves don't stock themselves," he said flatly.
Deke didn't move, just stared as his father walked stiffly past him. A hand slid into his and squeezed gently.
Erin was there beside him, wrapping her fingers around his as, gutted once more, he watched his old man go.
The trouble with muscle memory was that it worked. You did the things you'd always done without even thinking about them. Like watching Deke out of the corner of her eye, always being aware of where he was, who he was with, what he was feeling.
Even after fifteen years the habit was still there. And when Erin saw him go still as he watched his father's slow progress around the annex, even though she'd backed off, she found herself edging close again. So that she was right behind him, close enough to reach out and take his cold hand in hers as he'd stood, stricken, and watched his father turn without speaking to him and walk away.
She didn't even realize she'd done it. It had been automatic. Even more automatic than the self-preservation that had had her deliberately putting on her most sophisticated Parisian dress, like it was battle armor, before she'd come this evening.
Fat lot of good it had done her. She'd walked in, prepared and determined to be indifferent to his drop-dead gorgeous self—even in coat and tie—only to be blindsided by his photos instead.
She had his books. She knew his work. He'd become every bit as insightful as she'd once imagined he would. On the page his photographs were interesting; on the wall they overpowered her. They drew her in, simply grabbed her by the throat and thrust her into the world according to Deke Malone.
It was a stark world, a vast world—but it didn't daunt so much as it offered possibilities. That's what she'd seen in the photo of the young Indian boy and his sheep. He was caring for them, but he wasn't consumed by them. His eyes were on the sky—on the limitless sky overhead.
She had told herself she could resist Deke in the flesh, but she couldn't resist that photo. It reminded her of Deke himself—the boy he'd been, the hopes he'd had. And here tonight she saw them realized. She'd found Marjorie and bought the photo before she did anything else. Having bought it, she thought, she would settle down. She would know that when Deke left, a piece of him would stay with her. She would have it as she would never have him. She'd even managed to rationalize that.
But now she had to rationalize the fact that she was holding his hand.
He was a friend, she told herself. He'd always be a friend, no matter what. She hated seeing him hurt. Hated the way his father had once more rejected him, hated seeing the bleak look in his eyes. She wanted to ease the pain, make it go away.
And muscle memory affected her mouth, too, for she suddenly found herself saying, "Come back to my place."
Deke looked around and seemed almost surprised to see her there. His expression changed from bleak to confused to something she couldn't quite read.
"You don't have to, of course," she said quickly, self-preservation kicking in at last. "I just thought…"
"I want to," Deke said, his voice low and ragged. A muscle in his temple throbbed. He was crushing her hand. He glanced at his watch. "It's 9:30. Let's go." He looked as if he would bolt right now if she didn't stop him.
"Not yet," Erin said. "You need to stay till the end. And I came with Taggart and Felicity. I'll go home with them, and you can meet me there." It would give her a chance to get her defenses in place again.
"Deke?" Marjorie Goodnight tapped him on the shoulder. "There's a reporter here from the Chronicle. Could you speak to him?"
Deke hesitated, but Erin nodded encouragingly and eased her hand out from his. "Go on. Come when you're finished. The big two-story white h
ouse on the corner as you come into town."
Deke still frowned, then sighed and nodded and actually managed a smile for Marjorie and the reporter. But he caught Erin's hand as she turned to go. "Leave the light on for me."
* * *
Chapter 5
« ^ »
Casual, Erin told herself. Offhand. Unflustered.
She had to treat him exactly the way she'd treated him years ago. Like her buddy. Like he was a pal. A good old friend and nothing more.
"Are you going to get out of the car or did you want to come home with us?" Taggart's voice, just a little impatient, jerked Erin back to the present—and the reality that they were sitting in the middle of the main road through Elmer directly outside her house.
"Oh! Sorry! I was just … thinking." About Deke, about spending time with him again—the one thing she'd tried to avoid, and she'd been the one to suggest it! Now she opened the door and scrambled out. "Thanks for the lift. Um, do you still want Gabriel in the morning?"
"I said I did." Taggart shook his head at her scattered thoughts. "Dazed and confused, are we?"
"She's just excited. It was a great opening. And she ran into so many people tonight that she hasn't seen in a long time," Felicity offered as an excuse for Erin's rude behavior.
"I didn't see her talking to anyone but Deke," Taggart said.
His wife grinned. "All the more reason she can't be expected to pay attention to you."
"Thanks very much," Taggart said dryly.
Felicity looked at Erin. "I do like him, Erin."
"Like who?" Taggart said blankly.
Erin didn't say, Like who? She knew.
"It's not like that," she protested. "We're old friends, that's all."
"Who's old friends?" Then the penny dropped, and Taggart laughed. "You mean Erin and Deke? Together?" He was grinning all over his face now. "That's a good one!"
"See?" Erin said to her sister-in-law. "He knows."
"Taggart knows? About men and women?" Now it was Felicity's turn to laugh. "Color him clueless."
"Now wait a sec," Taggart said, offended.
"Ask Becky if you don't believe me," Felicity reminded him.
"That little manipulator," Taggart grumbled. Then he shot his wife a knowing look. "But she didn't just nail me. She nailed you, too."
"Smarter than both of us," Felicity agreed, unperturbed, then she glanced back at Erin. "Want me to send Becky around to help you out with Mr. Malone?"
"No, I don't!" Erin said forcefully. "Good night. Thank you for the ride. Go home now, Taggart, and do something interesting that will keep your wife busy."
"Something interesting?" Taggart said speculatively. "Now there's an idea." He grinned broadly and waggled his eyebrows in Felicity's direction. "Come on, wife. Let's see what we can find to keep us busy."
Laughing and shaking her head, knowing exactly what her brother had in mind, Erin shut the car door and waved them on their way. Then she made her way up the walk and climbed the steps.
The house still seemed huge. Of course, they'd only been living in it a month, hadn't really had a chance to fill it up yet. But with six bedrooms, two baths, a double parlor, eat-in kitchen, mud room and sunroom, it was easily four times bigger than their flat in Paris.
She hung up her coat, kicked off her heels and actually had to go looking for Gabriel, who had been deputized to baby-sit his siblings for the evening. She found him in the sunroom, watching a video.
"Everything go okay?" she asked, wriggling her toes gratefully.
"Oui. Yes. Mostly." Gabriel shrugged his shoulders against the back of the couch, then hit pause on the remote and looked up at her. "Nico didn't want to take a bath. He said I couldn't make him. He was wrong."
"I see," Erin said, sure that she did. "Is the bathroom still standing?"
"Uh-huh. But we're pretty much outa towels."
Not as bad as it might have been, then. "We'll do laundry in the morning. What are you watching?"
Her children had had their pick of almost-current videos because Celie Tucker ran her C&S Spa and Video out of the shop on the back of the house.
"Raiders," Gabriel said happily, which wasn't current at all. He punched the remote and settled back to watch his favorite film. This wasn't even Celie's video, but their own, one that Gabriel and Jean-Yves had watched over and over.
Was he still missing his father? Erin wondered. Or was he watching it merely because he liked it?
The film was a little more than halfway over, and Erin would have liked to suggest he finish it tomorrow. But it was understood that on nights he baby-sat for Sophie and Nicolas, Gabriel was entitled to a later bedtime. She could hardly expect to shoo him off to bed just because she had invited company home. He would wonder what was going on.
And the truth was, nothing was going on.
It wasn't as if she was planning a big seduction. Deke was coming over, and they were going to talk, just as they had always talked. Nothing was going to happen, because nothing ever happened.
And that was fine with her.
Still she found herself saying casually, "It's nearly eleven. Maybe you should finish watching that tomorrow night. Uncle Taggart will be here to pick you up early."
"I'll be ready," Gabriel said, his gaze on the screen.
Erin shrugged. "Whatever. I'm going up and changing out of this dress." She started up the stairs, wondering if she should say anything about Deke coming by or not. No wonder she never invited men home. It was too difficult. There were too many decisions.
"Want some popcorn?" Gabriel asked.
Erin hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"
She went upstairs and took off the basic black dress, then unpinned her hair and shook it loose. It was always possible that Deke might change his mind and not come. But if he did, she didn't think she should be entertaining him in her nightgown. So she put on a pair of jeans and a forest-green cashmere sweater, stuffed her feet into a pair of moccasins and went back down.
The movie was on pause and Gabriel was in the kitchen making popcorn in the microwave. When she appeared, he looked her up and down, surprised.
"Deke Malone might be dropping by," Erin explained offhandedly, getting down a bowl for the popcorn. "He's the guy whose opening I went to tonight." In case he didn't remember.
Gabriel didn't say anything. Sophie would have asked ten questions by now.
"We're old friends," Erin said, thinking as she did so that Gabriel probably found out more by not asking than Sophie did by giving her the third degree. "We haven't seen each other in years, and we decided we had a little catching up to do before he heads back to New Mexico." That sounded like a reasonable explanation.
Gabriel took the popcorn out of the microwave.
"He used to work for Grandpa when we were in high school and college. I've known him a long time." Erin kept on.
It didn't matter to Gabriel. He split open the popcorn bag and dumped it into the bowl, then carried it back into the sunroom. Shutting her mouth before she said something she'd really regret, Erin followed and sat next to him on the sofa.
Indiana Jones was in the well of souls surrounded by snakes, his life at stake. Erin tried to focus on his dilemma. It wasn't easy.
And it got harder minutes later when there was a knock on the door just as the Nazis were shutting Indy in. She jerked and almost spilled the popcorn.
"Sorry!" She thrust the bowl into Gabriel's lap and scrambled to her feet. Then she stopped and made herself take a deep breath.
Cool it, she commanded silently. It's only Deke. It's no big deal.
Certainly, she reminded herself, it wasn't to him. Keep that in mind, she told herself, wiping damp, salty palms on the sides of her jeans as she went to open the door.
Deke had changed clothes, too. The coat and tie were gone. So were the dark wool slacks. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a black watch plaid flannel shirt beneath a forest green down jacket. Flakes of new snow dusted his black cowboy ha
t.
"Hey." He smiled at her, but the smile was forced and didn't quite reach his eyes.
Erin knew why, and knew she wanted to help, knew she could help because this was Deke—and she always had helped him. She felt adult, in control and sensible again. "Hey, yourself," she said, smiling as she opened the door wider. "Come on in."
He came in. "I stopped at Milly's to check on Zack. Figured I'd bring him if he was awake and causing trouble, but he was asleep so Milly said to leave him. So I shouldn't stay long. Don't want to stick her with my responsibility, but—" he looked her square in the eyes "—I wanted to come."
She hung his jacket over the newel post and dropped his hat on the bench beside the door. Deke pulled off his boots so he didn't track snow into the living room, then straightened up once more. In his socks he was only three or four inches taller than she was. Her eyes were on a level with his mouth. She turned away quickly.
"We can sit in the living room or the kitchen or—" she said as she led him into the living room. Gabriel still had the video on in the sunroom. The sound carried faintly this far.
Deke stopped. "Is that Raiders?'"
"What?" Erin glanced back at him, baffled, then realized he was hearing the theme music from the movie. "Gabriel is watching it."
This time Deke's grin was real. "Can we?"
Erin almost laughed. "Of course."
If Gabriel was surprised to have company, he betrayed it only by the barest widening of his eyes when they both came into the room and sat with him on the sofa.
"Ah, great. My favorite part," Deke said with relish as Indy struggled to cling to the bottom of the truck carrying the Ark. "Taggart and I used to spend hours trying to figure out how we could do that."
Gabriel looked impressed. "Did you do it?"
"I bet you can't get this whole bowl of popcorn in your mouth all at once," Erin said pointedly to Deke. The last thing she needed was him giving Gabriel ideas like that.
But he just laughed. "No," he said to Gabriel. "Your grandfather told us that if we ever wrecked one of his trucks pulling some damn fool stunt, he'd blister whatever was left of our hides." He winked at Erin, then looked at the bowl on the table in front of her. "Pass that popcorn, will you?"
The Cowboy's Christmas Miracle Page 7