by Diana Palmer
Fay was aghast. Delighted. Unbearably pleased. She looked at the attorney. “You mean, I don’t have to take the money?”
Her wording shocked him, when very little ever had. “You don’t want it!”
“Oh, no,” she agreed. “I’m quite happy as I am.”
“Well, I’m not,” Henry muttered. “She could have left me a few sticks of furniture or something.”
“But she did,” the attorney recovered himself enough to add. “There’s a provision for the contents of her apartment to be sold at public auction and the proceeds split between the two of you. I should say it will amount to very nearly a quarter of a million dollars. There is, too, her jewelry, which she wanted to go to Mrs. Langley—provided none of it is sold. Heirlooms, you know.”
Fay smiled. “Some of the pieces date back three hundred years to European royal houses. I’d never sell it. It should go to descendants.” She realized that she wouldn’t have any now, and her face fell.
“At least we got something,” Henry told her once they were outside. “I don’t feel so bad that your inheritance didn’t come through, now.”
“There was nothing you could have done,” Fay assured him. “I don’t have any hard feelings.”
He stared at her curiously. “You didn’t want Tessie’s money?”
She shook her head as they walked back to the rented car. “Not at all. Donavan would never have married me in the first place if I’d been rich.”
“Yes. He does have a sore spot about his father.” He glanced at her. “Well, this slight in Tessie’s will should make your marriage a little more stable. I can imagine what J. D. Langley would have thought if you’d inherited all that money.”
“Yes. Can’t you, though?” Although she was thinking that if he’d loved her, money wouldn’t have mattered at all. He’d tossed her out on her ear because he thought she was inheriting Tessie’s money. He didn’t want her rich. Well, that was all right with her. A relationship based on money—no matter if it was too much or too little—wasn’t the right kind. She’d go on with her job at the feedlot and tell him that her inheritance was going to be tied up for a time. Beyond that, he didn’t really need to know anything else. He’d thrown her out. She had to consider that maybe he’d done her a favor. She was falling more in love with him by the day. But aside from his need to keep Jeff and his desire for her, there was nothing on his side worth fighting for. As he’d already said, he could have all the women he needed. What would he want with Fay?
She did feel somewhat responsible for Jeff, though, since she’d agreed to the marriage in the first place partly to help rescue him from his stepfather. She liked the boy. For his sake, she wasn’t going to walk out on J. D. Langley. She’d stick with them until the court case was settled one way or the other. Then she’d make whatever decisions had to be made.
It was ironic, though, that she’d gone to her marriage bed a virgin and left it still a virgin, even if she had learned quite a lot about pleasure in the process. She wondered if she could get into The Guinness Book of Records?
She packed her things and got ready to head back to Jacobsville. She didn’t seem fated to be rich anymore, and she was rather glad about it. It was one thing to be born into money, quite another to learn to make it in the world without a big bankroll to fall back on.
If Donavan had loved her, she’d have had everything. She remembered so many good times with him, so much sweetness and pleasure. He’d genuinely seemed to like her at times, and his desire for her had been quite unmistakable. But desire wasn’t love.
She couldn’t settle for a man who looked at her as an infrequent dessert that he could live without. She wanted to be loved as well as wanted, to be cherished just for herself. Donavan had put conditions on their relationship that she couldn’t meet. Be poor and I’ll want you, he’d as good as said. If he’d loved her, whether she was rich or poor wouldn’t have mattered. And all the gossip in the world wouldn’t have made any difference.
Donavan had never loved, so he couldn’t know that. But Fay did. She had to go back to him now and pretend that she didn’t love him, that they were simply two people living together for the sake of a child. They weren’t even legally married, because the marriage hadn’t been consummated. She laughed bitterly. Jeff’s stepfather could have had plenty of fun with that charge in court, but nobody knew except Donavan and herself, thank God.
She closed the case she’d been packing and went to phone the bellhop station. She had to go home and face Donavan, and the future.
Chapter 8
When Fay and her uncle arrived at the airport, it was a shock to find Donavan waiting for them.
She shot a curious glance at her uncle, but he looked as surprised as she did.
“We could have gotten a cab,” she began, her very calm voice belying the turmoil that the sight of Donavan engendered in her.
“It was no hardship to pick you up,” he said easily. He was smoking a cigar, wearing working clothes that were clean if not new. His Stetson was cocked over one eye so that it wasn’t possible to see the expression on his lean face. Just as well, too, he thought, because he wasn’t ready for Fay to find out how glad he was to see her. The days had been endless since she left, and his conscience was hurting him. He’d been unkind to her at a time when she’d needed compassion and a shoulder to cry on.
“This is decent of you, Donavan,” Henry said as he shouldered cases and followed Donavan out to the car. “I hate cabs.”
Fay didn’t comment. She clutched her purse and her overnight bag tightly, not returning Donavan’s quiet, close scrutiny. She didn’t care what he did or said anymore, she told herself. He’d hurt her for the very last time.
He dropped Henry off and not a word was spoken until he escorted Fay into the house.
“Jeff’s in school,” he told her when she noticed the sudden hush in the house. Only Bee, the kitten, was in evidence when Donavan came back from depositing her bags in her room. He picked her up with a faint smile and deposited her in a chair.
“You enrolled Jeff in school here, then?” she asked.
“Yes.” He stopped just in front of her, his silver eyes probing as he looked down at her in the off-white suit she’d been married in. It brought back painful memories.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Still kicking,” she replied dryly. “I’m not bleeding, Donavan, so you don’t need to worry over me. I won’t be a problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll unpack and change. Then I’ll see about starting something for supper.”
“You don’t have to…” he began irritably.
“I don’t mind.” She turned away, cutting him off before he could sway her resolve. “You’ve said it all already,” she added without turning. “Let’s just leave it alone. Have you heard from your lawyer about the custody hearing?”
“Yes,” he said after a minute. “It’s scheduled for next week.”
She didn’t know what else to say, so she nodded and left him there. It was some small consolation that he seemed as ill at ease as she felt. Their marriage was over before it had even had a chance to begin. She wished they could start again. But she doubted that Donavan believed in second chances any more than she did herself.
It was a silent meal. Jeff looked from one of them to the other with curiosity and faint uneasiness.
“I’m sorry about your great-aunt, Fay,” Jeff said when they were eating the pudding she’d made for dessert. “I guess you’re still sad.”
“Yes,” she agreed without argument. “Great-Aunt Tessie was special. She was a renegade in a day and age when it wasn’t popular.”
“Was she really rich?”
Fay hated the question, but she couldn’t very well take out her wounds on the boy. “Yes, Jeff, she was. Very rich. But money isn’t the most important thing in the world. It won’t buy good health or happiness.”
“Yeah, but it sure would buy a lot of Nintendo games!” he enthused.
She laug
hed despite herself. But Donavan was silent all through the meal, and afterward.
While Fay was washing dishes, he came into the room. His hands were dangling from the thumbs in his jeans pockets, his silver eyes watchful in a face like a carving in a stone cliff.
“I heard you call Abby Ballenger just before supper. Why? Did you tell her you were resigning?” he asked slowly.
“I’m not resigning. You do realize that paperwork and so forth takes time?” she added, playing for time. “I don’t automatically inherit. Neither does Uncle Henry.”
“You wouldn’t have known that by the way he was talking on the way to his house,” he reminded her with a calculating smile. “He’s already got his money spent. Or he will have, by the time he actually gets it.”
She didn’t speak. He made her nervous. It was impossible to be in the same room with him and not remember how it had been between them that one night of their honeymoon. Even without the ultimate intimacy, she’d had a taste of Donavan that still could make her head spin. She loved him with all her heart. It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d owned several multinational corporations or only a rope and an old horse. She loved him so much that his circumstances would never have made any difference. But he didn’t feel the same about her, and she didn’t need him to put it into words. She had money—or so he thought—and he didn’t, so he didn’t want her. Nothing would alter his opinion one iota, and she knew that, too.
“I should have stayed there with you, shouldn’t I?” he asked unexpectedly. “You look worn to a nub, Fay. All that grief and your uncle to deal with at once. I suppose all the details were left up to you.”
It was a question, she supposed. “Yes,” she replied. “Uncle Henry was able to make the funeral arrangements, though, with the attorney’s help. I sorted out the things in the apartment—” She stopped, blinking to stay the tears. She washed the same plate again, slowly. “It was so empty without her.”
He hesitated. “So was this house, without you in it,” he said gruffly.
She swallowed. She didn’t dare turn around. “Thanks, but you don’t have to pretend. I haven’t lived here long enough to make any real difference in your life, or Jeff’s. You’re a better cook than I am, and you’ve had people to help you straighten up. I’m just a temporary convenience. Nothing more.”
He was conscious of a terrible wounding in her and in himself. Had he made her feel so inadequate that she thought he was better off without her than with her?
“The boy wants to see that new adventure movie that just came out. It’s playing at the Longview. Want to come with us?”
“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” she forced herself to say. “I’m very tired. You two go ahead, and enjoy yourselves. I just want to go to bed and sleep the clock around.”
He hesitated. “Fay, we can wait until you’re rested.”
“I don’t like movies, honestly,” she said quickly.
“But thanks all the same.”
He moved closer, his eyes narrow and concerned. “You’ve had a rough time lately, and I haven’t been much help. Listen, Fay…”
“I don’t need pity,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil his nearness aroused. She dried her hands and sidestepped away from him. “I’m learning to stand on my own two feet. I won’t pretend it’s easy, but I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. After the custody hearing next week, I may see about moving back to my apartment house.”
“You’re assuming that I’ll win it,” he said formally. “There’s a good chance that I won’t. And if you tip out the front door hours later, Jeff’s stepfather may appeal the court’s decision even if I do win. Proof of an unstable home life would cost dearly.”
Incredible that he sounded so determined to keep her with him, when she knew that wasn’t what he wanted at all. Of course, it was for Jeff’s sake. He loved the boy, if he loved no one else.
“All right,” she said, sounding and feeling trapped. She sighed deeply. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
“If you stay that long, you’ll never leave,” he said curtly.
He turned and left the room, with Fay staring after him in a daze, not quite sure that she’d really heard him right. Probably, she thought later, it was only wishful thinking on her part.
They fell into a routine as the days passed. Fay went back to work, despite Donavan’s comment that she was taking a job that someone else might really need, and Jeff went to school each day and began to look the very picture of a happy boy.
Fay worked harder than she ever had before, deliberately putting in late hours and paying more attention to detail than ever. Calhoun and Justin Ballenger were complimentary and appreciative of her efforts. Donavan was not.
“You do nothing but work!” he complained one evening when she wasn’t working late—a rarity in recent days. “Don’t Jeff and I count with you?”
“Uncle Don, Fay has to do her job right,” Jeff pointed out. He grinned. “Besides, Mr. Ballenger says she’s saved them plenty with all that hard work.”
Donavan finished his dessert and reached for the carafe, to pour himself a second cup of coffee. “So I hear.”
“You don’t work any less hard yourself,” Fay accused him. “And I don’t complain.”
His silver eyes met hers with cold impact. “Most brand-new wives would.” He was making an insinuation that, fortunately, went right over Jeff’s head. But Fay knew what he was really saying, and she flushed.
“Yes, well, ours is hardly a normal situation.”
“It could be,” he said, startling her into looking up. There was no teasing, no mockery in his expression. He was deadly serious.
Fay flushed. “There’s no time.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”
The flush grew worse. Jeff finished the last of his dessert and excused himself. “I want to get out of the line of fire,” he said dryly, and closed the door into the living room. Seconds later, the TV blared out.
“Turn that damned thing down!” Donavan raged.
“You bet!” Jeff said irrepressibly and barely touched the knob.
Donavan, placated, was still glaring at Fay. “We’re husband and wife,” he reminded her. “There’s no reason on earth that you can’t share a bed with me.”
“There’s a very good one,” she differed. She put down her napkin. “When Jeff’s situation is resolved, I don’t plan to stay here any longer than I have to. I won’t risk getting pregnant.”
His face drained of color. He looked…wounded. Cut to the bone. Fay felt sick at the careless comment when she saw its results. She hadn’t even meant it. She loved him, but he only wanted her. She was fighting for her emotional survival, with the few weapons she had left.
“I didn’t mean that,” she said stiffly, averting her eyes. “Not like it sounded. But you must realize I’m right. A baby right now would…would complicate things.”
“You don’t think children can be prevented?” he asked with cutting sarcasm.
She lifted her eyes to his. “I won’t be around that much longer,” she said quietly. “I realize I must be stifling your sex life, and I’m sorry, but very soon I’ll be gone and you can… Your life can get back to normal.”
He grew colder in front of her eyes. He threw down his napkin and slowly got to his feet. “So that’s what it’s come down to in your mind. I’m hot for a woman and you’re someone I can use in the meantime, until I’m free.”
She went scarlet. “You can’t pretend you feel anything other than desire for me,” she said proudly. “After all, I’m rich.”
His gaze averted to the table. He stared at it for a long moment. “Yes.” He’d almost forgotten. Memories came back, of his father’s greed, the censure after Rand Langley’s second wife had committed suicide.
He left without another word. After a few minutes, Fay got up and cleared away the dishes. Well, what had she expected him to do, deny it? She laughed at her own folly and then had to bite ba
ck tears.
The court hearing was only two days away now, and both Jeff and Donavan were looking as if the pressure of it was giving them some problems.
Fay went by the video rental store and found three movies that would probably appeal to the two men in her life—both of whom were adventure fans—and presented them after supper.
“Wow!” Jeff enthused. “I’ve wanted to see these for ages! Thanks, Aunt Fay!”
“I didn’t think you liked adventure films,” Donavan remarked.
She shrugged. “I can take them or leave them. But I thought they might take Jeff’s mind off court.” She looked up at him curiously. “Have you heard anything from his stepfather, even through the lawyer?”
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t surprise me to find that he’s having us watched, though.”
“Why?”
“Looking for anything to further his case.” He laughed coldly. “It would be like him.”
“Neither of us has been indiscreet,” she reminded him primly, but with a nervous glance.
He glared at her. “I told you, I don’t have women on the side. As long as we’re married, you’re it.”
She averted her face. “Thank you.”
“I hope that I can expect the same courtesy?”
Her eyes on his face were explosive and expressive. “You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t attract too many men now that I’m not rich anymore!”
The slip caught Donavan’s attention. “You just inherited a fortune,” he reminded her.
“Oh. Oh, yes,” she faltered. She turned away quickly. “Nevertheless, I’m not going to break my wedding vows.”
“I never thought you would, Fay,” he said unexpectedly. He moved close behind her and caught her waist gently in his lean hands. “You needn’t flinch like that.” His voice was quiet, tender. “I may be a 14-karat heel, but I wouldn’t hurt you physically.”