“Don’t worry, Connor. Everything’s under control,” Rafe said mildly.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” Rafe said.
“About time.”
“Yeah. You can say that again.” Rafe started toward the study he used as an office. “I need to spend a few minutes with Hatcher. Maggie’s going swimming, aren’t you, Maggie?”
“Looks like it,” said Maggie.
Bev brightened. “I’ve got another idea, if you’re interested, Margaret?”
“What’s that?” Margaret smiled.
“How would you like to go shopping? I thought you might want to buy something to wear to the engagement party tomorrow evening.”
Margaret reeled. Her eyes widened in shock as she whirled to glare at Rafe. “Engagement party. Now, just hold on one minute, here, I’ve never said anything about getting officially engaged. Don’t you dare try to rush me like this, Rafe. Do you hear me? I won’t stand for it.”
Hatcher, Conner and Bev looked at each other in obvious embarrassment. But there was a suspiciously humorous glint in Rafe’s eyes when he said very gently, “Mom is talking about the engagement party she and Connor are giving tomorrow night to celebrate their engagement. Not ours.”
“I’m so sorry, dear,” Bev said quickly. “In all the excitement of your arrival yesterday, I forgot to mention it. We’re having a few friends over to celebrate tomorrow evening. The next day Connor and I are going to take a little trip.”
Margaret learned the meaning of wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. “Oh,” she said, flushing a bright pink. She turned to Bev. “Shopping sounds like a wonderful idea. I haven’t a thing to wear.”
CHAPTER SIX
MARGARET PAUSED AT THE EDGE of the pool, glanced around quickly at the patio full of well-dressed guests and realized she was alone at last. When she spotted her father disappearing into the house by himself she decided to take advantage of the situation. She put down her empty hors d’oeuvres plate and hurried after him.
“Caught you, Dad.” She grinned triumphantly at a startled Connor as he headed toward the kitchen.
“Maggie, my girl.” Connor made an effort to look genuinely pleased to see her. “I was wonderin’ how you were gettin’ along. Enjoyin’ yourself, girl? Bev sure knows how to throw a mighty fine party, doesn’t she? One of the things I love about her. She knows how to have a good time. Wouldn’t think it to look at her, but she’s not a bit stuffy or prissy. Great sense of humor.”
Margaret folded her arms and regarded her father with a sense of amusement mixed with exasperation. “Bev Cassidy appears to be an all-around wonderful person and I’m delighted the two of you are so happy together, but I didn’t corner you in here to listen to a glowing litany of her attributes. You’ve been avoiding me since I got here, Dad. Admit it.”
Connor appeared shocked and horrified at the accusation. “Avoidin’ you? Not a chance, girl. How could you think such a thing? You’re my own little Maggie, my only child, the fruit of my loins.”
“Hold it, Dad.”
“It’s nothin’ less than the truth. Hell’s bells, girl, why would I want to avoid you? I’m delighted you got down here for my engagement shindig. A man’s one and only child should definitely be present when he takes the great leap into marriage.”
“That’s arguable, depending on when the leap is made,” Margaret said dryly. “But your impending nuptials, exciting as they may be, are not what I wanted to discuss.”
“Maggie, girl, you know I’m always available to you. I’m your father. Your own flesh and blood. You can talk to me about anything.”
“Terrific. That’s just what I’d like to do. I have a little matter I’ve been wanting to discuss with you ever since I got here.”
Connor brightened. “Wonderful. We’ll have us a nice father-daughter chat one of these days just as soon as we both have a spare minute.”
“I’ve got a spare minute right now.”
“Well, shoot, too bad I don’t.” Connor’s face twisted into a parody of sincere regret. “Promised Bev I’d get on the kitchen staff’s tails. We’re runnin’ out of ice. Maybe sometime in the mornin’?”
“Rafe is going to take me riding in the morning, if you’ll recall.”
“Hey, that’s right. I remember him sayin’ somethin’ about that earlier today. You haven’t been ridin’ for quite a while, have you? You used to be darn good at it. Don’t worry about bein’ out of practice. It’s like bicyclin’. Once you get the hang of it, you never forget. Rafe’s got some fine horses, doesn’t he?”
“I’m sure Rafe’s horses are all first class. They’re a business investment and Rafe has excellent instincts when it comes to business investments. Dad, stop trying to sidetrack me. I want to talk to you.”
Connor exhaled heavily, surrendering to the inevitable. He eyed Margaret warily. “More likely you want to chew me out for my part in Rafe’s little plot. You still mad about that? I thought you and Rafe had settled things.”
“Rafe and I have an ongoing dialogue about certain matters.”
Conner wrinkled his nose. “Is that a fancy way of sayin’ everything’s settled?”
“It’s a way of saying we’re both reevaluating the situation and waiting to see how things develop.”
“You know, Maggie, girl, for a woman who’s made a career out of writin’ romance novels, you sure do have an unexcitin’ turn of phrase when it comes to describin’ your own love life. Reevaluatin’ the situation?”
Margaret smiled ruefully. “I guess it does sound a little tame. But the truth is, Dad, after last year I’m inclined to be cautious.”
Connor nodded, his eyes hardening slightly. “Yeah, I can understand that. Hell, I was inclined toward a few things, myself, after I got wind of what happened.”
“Like what?”
“Like murder. Damn near killed Cassidy at our first meetin’ a few months back. Raked that boy over the coals somethin’ fierce, I can tell you that.”
“You did?” Margaret was startled. But, then, no one had seen fit to inform her of that meeting.
“Sure. You hadn’t told me all that much about what had happened, remember? You just said it was over and Cassidy had said some nasty things there at the end. But I was mad as hell because I knew how much he’d hurt my girl.”
Margaret drummed her fingers thoughtfully on her forearms. “Just what did Rafe say at that first meeting?”
Connor shrugged. “Not much to start. Just let me rant and rave at him and call him every name in the book. Then, when I’d calmed down, he poured me a glass of Scotch and gave me his side of the story.”
“And you instantly forgave him? Figured he was the innocent party, after all?”
“Hell, no.” Connor glowered at her. “You’re still my daughter, Maggie. You know I’d defend you to the last ditch, no matter what.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“But,” Connor continued deliberately, “I was extremely interested in the other side of the story. I’d taken to Cassidy right off when you introduced us last year. You know that. Figured he was just the man for you. Don’t mind sayin’ I was real upset with myself to think I’d misjudged the man that badly. I was relieved to find out the situation wasn’t exactly what you’d call black and white. There was a lot of gray area and after a couple of Scotches and some rational conversation I could sort of see Cassidy’s point of view.”
“Rafe can be very persuasive,” Margaret murmured.
“And you, Maggie, girl, can be a bit high in the instep when it suits you.”
“So it was all my fault, after all? Is that what you decided?”
“No, it wasn’t. Don’t put words in my mouth, girl. All I’m sayin’ is that when I heard Cassidy’s side of the tale, I did some thinkin’.”
Margaret couldn’t help but grin. “You mean you re-evaluated the situation?”
Connor chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. At any rate, when I realized Cassidy was d
ead serious about gettin’ you back, I figured I might lend him a hand.” Connor’s smile broadened conspiratorially. “Then he introduced me to Bev and I knew for certain I’d help him out.”
“Your father,” Rafe announced from the open doorway behind Margaret, “is a man who has his priorities straight. He just wanted you and me to get ours straightened out, too.”
Margaret jumped and turned her head to glance over her shoulder. Rafe sauntered into the room, a drink in his hand. He was dressed for the party in a pair of gray, Western-cut trousers, a black shirt and a bolo tie made of white leather. His boots were also made of white leather with an elaborate floral design picked out in silver and black.
“How long have you been standing there?” Margaret asked, thinking that there were times when she felt distinctly underdressed around Rafe.
“Not long.” He put his arm around her waist and grinned at Connor. “I wondered when she’d cut you out of the herd and demand a few private explanations, Connor. Need any help?”
“Nope. Maggie and I got it all sorted out, didn’t we, girl?”
“If you say so, Dad.”
Rafe grinned. “Good. Now that you two have that settled maybe you can give me some advice on what to do about Julie’s artist friend. Did you meet him yet?” He shook his head. “I knew when she went to work managing that art supply store she’d be mixing with a bad crowd.”
Margaret glared at him. “I met Sean Winters earlier this evening when I was first introduced to your sister. I like him. He seems very nice and he treats Julie like a queen. Where’s the problem?”
Rafe gave her a sidelong glance as he took a swallow out of his glass. “Weren’t you listening? The problem is that the guy’s an artist.”
“So?” Margaret arched her brows. “I’m a writer. You got something against people who make their living in the creative fields, Cassidy?”
Rafe winced. “Now, Maggie, love, don’t take what I said as a personal comment, okay? I just can’t see my sister marrying some guy who makes a living painting pictures.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, it’s not exactly a stable profession, is it? No regular salary, no benefits, no pension plan, no telling how long the career will last.”
“Same with writing,” Margaret assured him cheerfully. “And what’s so all-fired safe about other professions? A person is always at risk of getting fired or being laid off or of being forced to resign. Look at my situation last year.”
“Let’s not get into that,” Rafe said tersely.
“Nevertheless, you have to admit no job is really guaranteed for life. How many times have you seen a so-called friendly merger result in a purge of management that cost dozens of jobs?”
“Yeah, but …”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the mergers and buyouts you’ve instigated have resulted in exactly that kind of purge.”
“We’re not talking about me, here, remember? We’re discussing Julie’s artist friend. Hell, he’s from a whole different world. They’ve got nothing in common. Julie’s got a degree in business administration, although she has yet to do much with it. She’s not the artsy-craftsy type. What does she see in Winters?”
“You’re just looking for excuses, Rafe. You’ve got a typical redneck macho male’s built-in prejudice against men in the creative arts, and you’re using the insecurity of the business as a reason to disapprove of Sean as a boyfriend for your sister.”
“Damn.” Rafe looked appealingly at Connor. “Wish I’d kept my mouth shut.”
“Don’t look to me for backup on this one.” Connor gave his host a wide grin. “I learned my lesson a few years back when Maggie here was dating an artist. I tried to give her the same lecture. Couldn’t see my girl getting involved with some weirdo who hung out with the art crowd. You should have seen his stuff, Cassidy. Little bits of aluminum cans stuck all over his canvases.”
That got a quick scowl out of Rafe. He glanced at Maggie. “How long did you date the weirdo?”
“Jon was not a weirdo. He was a very successful multimedia artist who has since gone on to make more from a single painting than I make from a single book. I’ve got one of his early works hanging in my living room, if you will recall.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “That thing on your wall that looks like a collection of recycled junk?”
“I’ll have you know that if I ever get desperate financially I’ll be able to hock that collection of recycled junk for enough money to live on for a couple of years. It was a terrific investment.”
“How long did you date him?” Rafe demanded again.
“Jealous?”
“Damn right.”
Margaret grinned. “Don’t be. Jon was a wonderful man in many respects but it was obvious from the start we weren’t meant for each other.”
“Yeah? How was it so obvious?”
“He was a night person. I’m a morning person. And never the twain shall meet. At least not for long.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“The point is, our incompatibility had nothing to do with his profession. And you shouldn’t judge your sister’s boyfriend on his choice of careers. Besides, Julie’s old enough to make her own decisions when it comes to men.”
“That’s another point. He’s too old for her.”
“He is not. He’s thirty-five. The difference between their ages isn’t much more than the difference between our ages, Rafe.”
“Okay, okay, let’s drop this discussion. We’re supposed to be celebrating an engagement here tonight.” Rafe looked at Connor with a hint of desperation. “Need some help with the ice?”
“Appreciate it,” Connor said.
Rafe gave Margaret a quick, hard kiss. “See you outside in a few minutes, honey.”
“Go ahead. Make your escape. But keep in mind what I said about giving Sean Winters a chance.” Margaret fixed both men with a meaningful glance before she turned and headed for the door.
“Whew.” Rafe exhaled on a sigh of relief as he watched her leave the room. He stared after her departing figure for a moment, enjoying the sight of her neatly rounded derriere moving gently under her elegant cream silk skirt.
“I know what you mean,” Connor said. “Women get funny notions sometimes. Maggie tends to be real opinionated.”
Rafe took another sip of his Scotch. “Was she really torn up after she stopped seeing the artist?”
Connor laughed and started for the kitchen. “Let me put it this way. One week after she’d stopped dating him she was dating a banker. One week after you and she broke up, she went into hibernation.”
Rafe nodded, satisfied. “Yeah, I know. If it makes you feel any better, Connor, my social life followed roughly the same pattern during the past year.”
“That’s one of the reasons I agreed to help you get her back,” Connor said. “Couldn’t stand to see the two of you sufferin’ like a couple of stranded calves. It was pitiful, just pitiful.”
“Thanks, Lark. You’re one of nature’s noblemen.”
OUTSIDE ON THE PATIO MARGARET helped herself to another round of salad while she chatted easily with several of the guests. She was answering a barrage of questions concerning publishing when Rafe’s sister materialized with her friend the artist in tow.
Margaret had met Julie and Sean earlier in the evening and had liked them both although she had sensed a certain reserve in Julie. Rafe’s sister was a pretty creature with light brown hair, her mother’s delicate bone structure and dark, intelligent eyes.
Sean Winters was a tall, thin man who had an easygoing smile and quick, expressive features. He greeted Margaret with a smile.
“How’s it going, Margaret? Cassidy find you? He was looking for you a few minutes ago,” Sean said.
“He found me. He’s inside helping my father with the ice. It’s a lovely party, isn’t it?”
“Well, hardly the sort of bash we weird, bohemian types usually enjoy. No kinky sex, funny cigarettes or hea
vy metal music, but I’m adjusting,” Sean said.
Margaret laughed but Julie looked stricken.
“Don’t say that,” Julie whispered tightly.
Sean shrugged. “Honey, it’s no secret your brother isn’t all that enthusiastic about having an artist in the family.”
Julie bit her lip. “Well, he’s going to have one in the family, so he better get used to the idea. I won’t have him insulting you.”
“He didn’t insult me. He just doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”
“He’s tried to play the role of father for me ever since Dad died,” Julie explained apologetically. “I know he means well, but the trouble with Rafe is that he doesn’t know when to step back and let someone make their own decisions. He’s been giving orders around here so long, he assumes that’s the way the world works. Rafe Cassidy says jump and everyone asks how high. He’s totally astounded when someone doesn’t.” Julie glanced at Margaret. “The way Margaret didn’t last year.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Margaret said calmly. “I followed orders last year. Rafe said to get out and I went.”
Julie sighed. “Yes, but you were supposed to come back.”
“So I’ve been told. On my hands and knees.”
“Would that have been so hard?”
“Impossible,” Margaret assured her, aware of the sudden tightness in her voice. Her pride was all she’d had left last year. She’d clung to it as if it had been a lifeline.
“My brother was in bad shape for a long time after you left. I’ve never seen him the way he was this past year and I admit I blamed you for it. I think I hated you myself for a while, even though I’d never met you. I couldn’t stand what you’d done to him.” Julie’s dark eyes were very intent and serious.
Margaret understood the reserve she’d sensed in Rafe’s sister. “It’s natural that you’d feel protective of your brother.”
“It was a battle of wills as far as Rafe was concerned. And he lost. He doesn’t like to lose, Margaret.”
Margaret blinked. “He lost? How on earth do you figure that?”
Tough Enough Page 10