One Husband Needed

by Jeanne Allan

  “Is that what you did? Mom said your husband wasn’t a cowboy. What was he?”

  “A history professor at the university.” She could have added Lawrence was also a liar, a fraud, and a thief, but she didn’t. She sensed Worth looking at her.

  “I’m not going to bad-mouth him because he chose a different career from the one I have,” Worth said.

  “Russ does.”

  “Seeing you hurting must upset Russ. He wants to make everything better for you, help you cope with your loss, but he has no idea how, so he’s angry and frustrated and the only person he can take his anger out on is your husband. It’s not logical, but it’s human nature.”

  “I didn’t come with you to listen to a sermon or homespun counseling,” Elizabeth said tightly. “I’m not hurting and I’m coping just fine with my loss. As you pointed out last night, I have Jamie.”

  “And your memories.”

  Elizabeth briefly squeezed her eyelids shut against the sharp pain. The last thing she wanted from her marriage was memories. Not after the way Lawrence had tarnished them. Clutching her seat belt she pinned a smile on her face and said, “Yes, of course. My memories.”

  Worth paused as he came out of the feed store. Elizabeth crouched in front of the large storefront window pointing out items to Jamie. Her son was trying to gnaw his way through the plate glass.

  Grinning, Worth tossed the supplies in the back of the pickup and strolled over to the store window. “I think Jimbo needs a bone to chew on.” He swung Jamie up into his arms and gave Elizabeth a bland look as she stood. “I would have helped you up, but I know how you hate being helped.”

  “I don’t need your help. I’d be just fine if you’d leave me alone.”

  He felt a curious reluctance to do that. Only a fool stuck his finger in a light socket, but Elizabeth Randall made him want to poke and prod her. Everything from her skinned-back hair to her trim, belted khaki trousers and buttoned-up shirt indicated a woman who believed in controlling all facets of her life. Worth might have believed the outer trappings were it not for the heated emotions which ebbed and flowed deep in her expressive eyes. Elizabeth Randall was made for intense feeling, deep loving and raw passion. He wondered why she went to such lengths to deny her nature.

  And knew an insane urge to solve the riddle before she returned to Nebraska.

  Securing Jamie in his safety seat, Worth said mildly, “I’ll try and remember you want to be left alone.”

  “While you’re remembering that, remember my son’s name isn’t Jimbo.”

  “Some things aren’t worth the effort of remembering.” He slid behind the wheel.

  “What is worth the effort?” she asked waspishly.

  Worth gave her an amused look, enjoying the sudden color washing across her face.

  “Never mind,” she said.

  “When a woman asks a man a question, it’s because she wants it answered.”

  “You’re a real sagebrush philosopher, aren’t you? Is there anything you don’t consider yourself an expert on?” She strapped herself in.

  He turned sideways in the driver’s seat, his right arm across the back of the seat and watched her face. “My sisters like to change the subject thinking they can get me off the track. They can’t.”

  “Being single-minded is nothing to brag about. I’ve never met a man so determined to—”

  He cut her off. “Kisses in the dark are worth remembering.”

  Her mouth closed, and she swallowed hard.

  He smiled slowly. “Unbuttoned green pajamas.” He had looked away immediately, honorable behavior he had a feeling he’d forever regret. The glimpse had shown him a nicely-shaped, womanly mound. The perfect size to fill a man’s hand, its tip hard against his palm.

  More red splashed her cheeks, and she swallowed again. “Never mind. I’m not interested in your memory.”

  Worth lifted an eyebrow. “Then let’s talk about yours.”

  “I have no memory,” she snapped. “I’d forgotten all about yesterday morning in the kitchen and Jamie unbuttoning, that is, I hardly remember kissing you because it didn’t mean a thing to me, and—What are you doing?” she shrieked as he slid across the seat. “It’s broad daylight, and we’re sitting in the middle of a parking lot. You can’t kiss me here.”

  He captured her head, his fingers busy with the tight knot of hair at the back of her neck. “I hadn’t thought about kissing you right now, but if you want me to…My mother taught me it’s rude to say no to a lady.”

  “I don’t want you to kiss me,” she said breathlessly.

  Her eyes were enormous in her pale face, and Worth could read the lie as easily as if she’d written it on a giant green chalkboard. He read other truths there, too. Her awareness of him as a man. Her curiosity. Distrust. And fear.

  He wanted to prove she’d lied. Deepen her awareness. Satisfy her curiosity. His gut clenched. Satisfy his. Answer the question as to whether a green-eyed redhead who sparked with anger at the slightest provocation brought that same electricity to bed.

  “Your husband was a very lucky man,” he said.

  She stared at him, and then slowly shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “He wasn’t.” A single tear ran down her cheek.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WORTH could have kicked himself for being an insensitive clod. He’d seen the pain on her face earlier when he’d mentioned her husband. The man had died in a car accident. Where was the luck in that? A woman shouldn’t have to endure that kind of suffering.

  He wished she’d slugged him or burst into tears. He could have handled those. The single, silent tear unmanned him. Awkwardly he reached over and wiped it away. “He died young, but blessed with a wife and son he loved, he must have died a happy man.”

  Elizabeth jerked back from his hand. A funny look flashed across her face. “He probably did die happy,” she said slowly. The thought had apparently never before occurred to her. It didn’t seem to ease her sorrow.

  Worth didn’t know how to ease that kind of sorrow. The best he could do was divert her thoughts and give her an alternative outlet for her battered emotions. “With luck, he didn’t know about your lousy memory.”

  Her eyes shot to his. He answered the question in them. “You’ve forgotten I hate your hair skinned back in a bun.” This time he didn’t hand her the hairpins he removed, but stepped out of the car and tossed them in a nearby garbage can.

  “You can’t do that.” Elizabeth had already fastened her seat belt, and by the time she extricated herself, he was back in the car.

  “I just did.”

  “Stop at a store so I can buy more pins.”

  “Nope.”

  “I cannot walk around looking like this.”

  Worth critically scrutinized her. “You’re right; it’s scrunched together at the back. It needs to hang loose, like this.” He combed her hair with his fingers, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo. She must use the same shampoo she used for Jamie. He’d never thought of baby shampoo as a perfume designed to drive men wild. Most perfumes made his nose itch.

  She didn’t move, a statue carved from ivory. Not ivory. Not with pale freckles sprinkled across her nose and upper cheeks. Not too many freckles. Just enough to draw a man’s eye. And tempt his lips.

  He trailed a knuckle from one pale dot to another. And watched as faint pink color washed over her cheekbones. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Lips the color of wild roses, they parted slightly, allowing him a peek at a row of perfect pearls. Slowly he slid the back of his hand across the fullness of her lower lip, his muscles taut as he remembered the heat, the moistness of her mouth.

  Outside the car, traffic moved and people talked. Car doors slammed, radios blared and a dog barked. Jamie babbled in the backseat.

  In the front seat Elizabeth made ragged breathing sounds.

  Worth wrapped his hands around her face, feeling the soft, pliable warmth of her cheeks with his calloused fingers. He couldn’t look away from her luminou
s eyes. Emotions swirled across green seas, then slowed, coalescing into pools of sensual awareness.

  He wanted to kiss her.

  To make love to her.

  His body clenched, and he sensed she read his mind as her eyes took on a wary cast. Uncertainty etched tiny lines at the outer corners of her eyes.

  Worth’s hands tightened involuntarily for a split second before he moved them. She’d been a widow for over a year, but she wasn’t ready. Didn’t trust him.

  Trust him to do what? He wasn’t about to start anything with a woman. Not now. Not for years. He wasn’t ready to settle down with a wife and family. He didn’t want another responsibility. He wanted freedom.

  Leaning across her, he flipped down the mirror on her visor. “There. See? You look much better.”

  “Are you naturally this quiet, or are you annoyed with me for strong-arming you into going shopping with Cheyenne and me?” Mary Lassiter asked.

  Elizabeth gave Worth’s mother a quick smile. “Worth took me to lunch in Aspen yesterday, but he dragged me past the stores so quickly I barely managed to peek in the windows.”

  Mary returned the smile. “I hope you’re not worried about leaving Jamie. He’ll be fine with Russ and Worth.”

  “I hope so. Russ isn’t my idea of a baby-sitter, but Worth seems to have experience with children.”

  The older woman concentrated on her driving for a few minutes before saying slowly, “Russ wants to be a good father and grandfather. Your father simply doesn’t know how. He’s afraid to touch Jamie, afraid he’ll break.”

  Elizabeth stiffened. “Is this why you wanted me to come? So you could deliver the second verse of the lecture Worth gave me yesterday?”

  “I’m sorry. Was I lecturing? I didn’t mean to be.” She gave Elizabeth a girlish grin. “My daughters would accuse me of spending too much time with Worth. Growing up, they constantly complained about him lecturing them. Of course, their complaining was all for show. Deep down they appreciated their big brother’s loving concern and guidance.” Her grin faded. “Having Beau for a father was hard on all my kids, but I think it was hardest on Worth. Beau used to say we must have been inspired when we named him Fort Worth, because there’s nobody worthier than Worth.”

  “Fort Worth?”

  “My husband rode bulls and broncos, and we named the kids after places where Beau won big in a rodeo. Fort Worth, Texas, Cheyenne, Wyoming, Alberta, Canada and Greeley, Colorado. A silly conceit, but it was fun. And Beau was right about Worth. He’s got more sense of responsibility in his little finger than most people will ever have. From a very young age he felt he had to take care of the rest of us, and he did.”

  Mary sighed. “My dad, Yancy Nichols, died just before Worth graduated from high school, but even before that, we relied too much on Worth. I used to worry he’d crack from the heavy responsibility he assumed. He was always there for me and my girls.”

  A reminiscent smile touched her lips. “Those three girls could get into ticklish situations, but they never looked behind them. They knew Worth would be there, backing them up, literally or figuratively.” Mary made a deprecating face. “There’s nothing more boring than a mother bragging on about her kids.”

  “I’m not bored,” Elizabeth said truthfully. She wanted to know about Worth. Wanted to know what made him tick. Who better to tell her about him than his mother?

  Yesterday Worth had obviously been going to kiss her, but he’d changed his mind. For whatever reason.

  She’d been relieved. Certainly not disappointed. She didn’t want to kiss him.

  Liar. She had wanted to.

  And in a public parking lot. Which was insane.

  Maybe some day she’d welcome a man’s kisses. Not now. Not while the memories of Lawrence’s last words festered. She’d given her husband all her love and trust. In turn, he’d betrayed everything their marriage stood for. Elizabeth didn’t know if she could ever again trust a man enough to love him.

  Not that Worth Lassiter wanted trust or love from her. She wasn’t that naive. If he wanted anything, it was a brief fling. Maybe he was the kind who kissed every woman who crossed his path.

  Impulsively Elizabeth brought up a topic which she’d been pondering with increasing frequency. “Worth is very good with his nieces and nephew. And Jamie.” Usually when someone picked up Jamie, worry gripped her. Even her stepfather, whom she adored, made her nervous when he held her son. Yet she trusted Worth with Jamie. Because she knew with complete certainty, without knowing how she knew, that Worth would never hurt a child. “I’m surprised he hasn’t married and started his own family.”

  “Not for lack of opportunity. I swear, since Worth turned ten, we’ve had females hanging around the ranch, each hoping he’d fall madly in love with her. He has his share of women friends, but nothing serious.” Mary sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if having assumed responsibility for his sisters from such a young age, Worth feels as if he’s already raised his family.”

  Her voice lightened. “His sisters say he’s so spoiled by having hordes of women at his beck and call, he can’t bear to give them all up and settle for just one.”

  His mother’s comments put Worth’s kisses in their proper perspective. He obviously dispensed meaningless kisses as cavalierly as other people dispensed smiles. Worth was probably constitutionally unable to pass an unattached woman without kissing her. For all Elizabeth knew, he kissed every attached woman who came on his horizon, as well.

  Not that she cared whom he kissed. Those weren’t pangs of disappointment or jealousy she felt. Hunger pangs, for lunch. That was all they were.

  “I’m sure he’ll quit playing around and find the right woman some day,” Elizabeth said to his mother, before asking about their surroundings.

  Mary pointed out Mt. Sopris and the Roaring Fork River. The rest of the way into Aspen their conversation was that of tour guide and visitor.

  Worth gave a low whistle as his mother descended the staircase. “Hey, beautiful lady, where did you come from?”

  “You think this dress is okay? I mean, I bought a dress last week for the party, but this morning it looked like an old lady’s dress, and while I’m old, darn it, I want to look good for Russ, and Cheyenne insisted this dress is perfect.”

  He swung his mother off the bottom step. “You look fantastic. Russ will have to spend the evening fighting off all the bachelors who want to trade places with him.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Mary smiled nervously at Worth and went to greet Russ. Worth almost laughed out loud at the dead silence which followed the opening of the door. Russ might have seen Mary in something other than jeans, but Worth doubted he’d seen her wearing a drop-dead gorgeous dress like the short, white, beaded number she wore now. Mary Lassiter had darned good legs, even if she was his mother and fifty-four years old.

  The older couple went out on the porch, further amusing Worth. The two behaved like a couple of teenagers. He ought to flash the porch lights as he used to do when his sisters came home from dates and lingered too long out there.

  Jamie’s voice babbled from upstairs, and footsteps descended behind Worth. He turned. After a minute he managed to wrestle his jaw back into place, but he couldn’t do a thing about the rest of his body’s response to the woman coming down the stairs.

  “Give me Jimbo and the diaper bag.” He cleared his throat. “He’ll mess up your dress.”

  On second thought, he ought to leave the kid in her arms. Maybe Jamie would throw up on it and she’d have to change. Into something decent.

  So much for grieving widows.

  She handed over her son and bag. “Your sister Cheyenne is rather overwhelming, isn’t she?” Elizabeth asked, not meeting Worth’s eye. “I brought with me a dress I used to wear to faculty dinners and it was perfectly fine but your mother insisted Russ wanted to buy me a dress and I found a nice plain gray one but Cheyenne wouldn’t let me buy it and this one’s too glamorous for me, isn’t it? You’re not saying anythin
g. I knew I shouldn’t have let her talk me into it. It’s not me and I feel like a fool. I look like one, don’t I?”

  She didn’t look like a fool. Worth patted Jamie’s back, forced a smile to his face, and tried to come up with a convincing argument to persuade her to change into something that wouldn’t have every man at the party panting after her.

  “Obviously I look so ridiculous, you can’t think of anything nice to say. It will take me only a minute to change.” Elizabeth whirled around and started back up the stairs. She didn’t turn in time to hide the hurt look on her face.

  “No, don’t change. You don’t look ridiculous.” She looked so sexy his body temperature must have risen fifty degrees. He scrambled for an explanation of his silence. “I was being amused by the fact that not five seconds ago my mother came down all worried about her dress. You both look great.”

  Elizabeth turned, hovering on the staircase. “You don’t think the dress is too, well, sexy?”

  Worth swallowed the answer he wanted to shout and made an effort to study the dress objectively. Orange and tomato-red flowers cascaded down shiny material the color of a ripe Colorado peach. She shimmered as light hit the material. Thin straps held up the dress which stopped short of her knees and fit her curves like a glove. She might be thin, but her figure was definitely a woman’s.

  He knew he’d seen ten times more skin exposed on other women in Aspen, but he’d never felt a compulsion to cover up those women with Jamie’s baby blanket. He didn’t like the feeling. “The dress is fine,” he said, not meaning a word of it.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Did my mother like the dress?” At Elizabeth’s nod, he said, “That settles it, then. Mom and Cheyenne wouldn’t persuade you to wear something inappropriate.” He was going to strangle Cheyenne when he saw her. This close to her wedding, his mother could be excused for fuzzy thinking, but Cheyenne? So much for the notion that his brother-in-love could control his wife.

  “You’re really sure I look okay?”