Long, Tall Texans: Tom

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Long, Tall Texans: Tom Page 2

by Diana Palmer


  “You’re not married yet?”

  He searched her soft oval face without expression. “That’ll be the day,” he replied.

  “Yes, I remember. You’re the original love-’em-and-leave-’em bachelor.” The bitterness was back in her voice. “I guess you’re still shaking the women out of your bed…”

  He stepped closer, his eyes kindling. “My love life is none of your damned business!” He never raised his voice, but the whip in it cut almost physically. It disconcerted her.

  “No…of…of course not!” she stammered.

  She actually took a step backward, and he cursed himself inwardly.

  “I’m sorry,” he said curtly. “You probably think you were one in a line. That’s the joke of the century.”

  “Ex…excuse me?”

  He checked his watch, feeling self-conscious. “I have to get to work.”

  His behavior puzzled her. She’d spent years blaming him, hating him. But he didn’t look like a philanderer. Sure, she reminded herself, and most ax-murderers probably don’t look like killers, either.

  She stood aside to let him pass. He hesitated, though, the wind blowing his thick black hair around over a face that was deep olive. He had an untamed look about him. He was still very handsome, although she was sure that he was in his middle thirties by now. His build was that of a much younger man, lean and muscular.

  “You have Native American ancestry, don’t you?” she asked involuntarily.

  “Sioux,” he agreed. “Our great-grandfather.”

  “How is your sister?” she asked without wanting to.

  “Fine. She and Jacob have a son. He’s five now.”

  “I’m happy for her.”

  “So am I. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d never married, either.”

  There was a deeper meaning to what he was saying. She wished she could read between the lines. Her eyes searched his curiously. If only she could hate him.

  He looked down his long, straight nose at her with dark green eyes that didn’t blink. “We’re both older. I’m glad you found someone you could love. I hope he was good to you.”

  She flushed. “He was very good to me,” she said.

  “And I wasn’t.” His lean hand reached out, almost touched her hair, withdrawing before it made contact. He laughed at his own inability to show affection. “I regret you most of all, Elysia,” he said numbly. “I was afraid. Maybe I still am.”

  He turned and went into his office, leaving her staring blankly after him.

  She’d hated him so much when she’d come back to Jacobsville after his cold rejection. It hadn’t even been much of a memory, that short night she’d spent in his arms. He’d been ravenously hungry for her, but rough and at times, oddly hesitant. When he’d hurt her, he’d even tried to draw away, but it hadn’t been possible. His harsh groan as he gave in to his hunger had stayed with her all these long years. He’d sounded as if he hated himself for wanting her, blamed her for it. He hadn’t said a single word. Not before, during, or after.

  It was painful to remember how desperately she’d loved him. She’d gambled everything on giving in to him, that once. But instead of bringing them closer, it had destroyed their tenuous friendship. She’d come home and he’d never tried to contact her at all. Perhaps that was best. She didn’t really want him to know about Crissy. Eventually he might notice that the child bore a striking resemblance to him, but he wouldn’t know what her late husband looked like, so there was little danger of her secret coming out.

  She wondered what he would say if he knew that their one intimacy had produced such a beautiful little miracle. She couldn’t tell him. Everyone in town thought that her late husband had fathered the child, but poor Fred had been far too ill for intimacy, even when they married soon after her flight to Jacobsville six years before. His illness had been a long-drawn-out one, with brief periods of remission that became even briefer as time passed. He’d been kind to her, though, and she’d had affection for him. He’d loved the child. Poor man, whose wife had divorced him to marry someone richer, just when he was diagnosed with cancer. They’d both been deserted by the people they loved most. Marriage had been a sensible solution. He wouldn’t have to die alone, and her child would have a name.

  The thought of telling Tom Walker about his daughter had never occurred to her. His cold avoidance of Elysia after they were intimate had told her all she needed to know. He no longer wanted her. Certainly he wouldn’t want a child.

  She went into the insurance office to pay her bill without a backward glance. Their time was over, before it even began. He would never have to know about Crissy, anyway. And if he could bear to live here with the constant sight of her to remind him of the past, she could endure it, as well. She was a successful businesswoman with rich clients at her exclusive fashion boutique that shipped couture and locally designed garments all over the world. She had a wonderful child and a bright future. She didn’t need Tom Walker to complete her life, even if the sight of him had knocked the breath out of her all over again. She’d just have to exercise some strong self-control, that was all. Because judging by his behavior, he hadn’t missed her. She wished that she could have said the same.

  * * *

  Tom sat down behind his desk, shaken. Elysia looked as lovely to his eyes as she ever had. She was more mature, much more desirable. He felt ashamed all over again. She’d married and had a child. He couldn’t have had much of a place in her heart after what he’d done. He wished things had gone differently for them. If he’d been able to communicate, a little less proud about his past, a little more open with her, who knew what might have happened. But he’d let his chance for happiness slip right by him. He’d given her the idea that he found her easy and undesirable after one night. How could he blame her for being bitter?

  The phone rang. He picked it up. It was a potential client. He put on his best business manner and forced the thought of Elysia to the back of his mind for the moment.

  * * *

  It was inevitable that he was going to run into the Craigs sooner or later. As it happened, it was Luke he saw first, and he had Elysia’s daughter with him.

  Tom stopped dead at the sight of the child. There was something about her that reminded him vividly of his sister, Kate. The child had olive skin and light green eyes. Her hair was long and straight and jet black. She was almost the image of Kate. He smiled in spite of himself. What a beautiful child!

  “Hi, Tom,” Luke said with his easy friendliness. He had the little girl by the hand. He drew her forward. “I’m taking my niece to a movie. Crissy, honey, this is Mr. Walker. He’s Uncle Luke’s investment counselor.”

  “Hello,” the child said politely, eyeing the tall man curiously. “You look like an Indian.”

  His eyebrow quirked. He smiled faintly. “I had a Sioux great-grandfather.”

  “I like to wear my hair in braids. Mama took me to an Indian powwow. That’s a festival where you can learn all about their culture and history, and all sorts of crafts. I had fun.”

  That interesting fact piqued Tom’s curiosity, but before he could say anything, Luke cut the child off.

  “Christine, you’re babbling,” Luke chided gently, chuckling as he glanced at Tom. “She’ll talk your leg off. She’s only in kindergarten, too.”

  “Uncle Luke thinks I talk too much,” the little girl muttered, glowering up at her uncle.

  “No, I don’t, pet,” her relative assured her. “She wants to see the pig movie.” He sighed. “I’m not keen, but I don’t have much to do around the ranch today, so I was free. Elysia’s at home with every pot we own on the stove putting up sauce. We’re going to die of tomato poisoning. Honest to God, she’s put up enough sauce to float a small ship!” He eyed Tom. “I don’t guess you like spaghetti? I could give you twenty or thirty jars of spaghetti sauce for Christmas.”

  “I love it, as it happens,” Tom admitted, amused. “Why does she put up so much of it?”

  “J
ust between us, I think something’s upset her,” he confessed. “She’s been like this for several days. She’s cleaned the house twice and washed both cars, now she’s determined to corner the tomato sauce market.”

  “Mama always works when she’s upset,” Crissy volunteered. “Last time was when Miss Henry told her I pushed Markie down the steps.”

  Tom’s eyebrows both rose. “Did you?”

  Her lower lip thrust out. “He called me a sissy,” she said belligerently. “Just because I made him stop throwing rocks at a little frog.” She brightened. “I told his mama what he did, and he got whipped. His mama has an aquarium with lots of little fire toads in it. She let me see them.”

  “Poor Markie,” Luke said under his breath.

  “Good for you,” Tom told the child.

  “Do you like cows?” she asked Tom. “We’ve got lots. I’ll bet Uncle Luke would even let you pet one, if you want.”

  “He can pet all I’ve got,” Luke replied, his blue eyes dancing as he glanced at the other man.

  “I’m a city boy,” Tom mused, his hands in his pockets. “Lately, anyway.”

  “Yes, you’re from Houston, aren’t you?” Luke asked.

  “Originally, I’m from South Dakota,” he replied. “I grew up around Jacob Cade’s ranch near Blairsville. He taught Kate and me how to ride when we were young. He’s a whiz at it.”

  “I know that name,” Luke replied. “He and I were at a cattle auction in Montana a couple of years back. He’s your brother-in-law? Well, well. I have to say I was impressed. He knows cattle.”

  “So does Kate. I’m the odd one out.”

  “You know how to invest money,” Luke said pointedly. “That’s no small talent.”

  Tom smiled. “Thanks.”

  Luke was frowning. “Jacob said something about you… Oh, I remember,” he added with a grin. “You threw a client out the door in Houston for making remarks to your secretary, as I recall.”

  “He was a—” he glanced at the little girl “—chauvinist.” He amended the word he’d been about to use. “It was no great business loss. I don’t like people hassling my employees.”

  “Didn’t Elysia used to work for you, when you were working at that ad agency in New York?” Luke asked suddenly.

  Tom’s face showed no expression at all, but he felt a sinking feeling inside. “Yes, she did. I was sorry to lose her. She was a terrific secretary.”

  “She said she got tired of New York,” Luke replied easily. “I don’t blame her, what with all that noise and concrete. Anyway, it was a good thing she came home, or she’d never have married Fred and had Crissy. It’s been nice having her back here. I expect you missed her.”

  “More than she’ll ever know,” Tom replied absently, his eyes with a faraway look. He shook himself mentally. “I have to go. Nice to have met you, Miss Nash,” he told Crissy, extending a lean hand.

  She shook it warmly. “Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Walker.”

  “Great manners,” he remarked to Luke.

  “Oh, Elysia’s a stickler for them. Crissy’s much loved, but she doesn’t lack for discipline, either.”

  “What does Elysia do now?”

  “She owns an exclusive fashion boutique, actually,” he told Tom. “She enrolled in college after Crissy was born and got her degree in business and marketing. She has a backlog of designers and dressmakers and despite the small size of our town, she’s getting an international reputation for her fashion sense. She gets orders from all over. She even does a little designing, as well. I knew she could draw, and she’s always been good at numbers, but I don’t think she really applied herself until she married Fred. He had contacts in the fashion world and in business and he pushed her—gently, of course. All that hidden talent came out. She’s only been in business a few years, and she already makes more on her boutique than I do on my cattle. Kills my ego.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “She and Crissy live with me. I don’t have any marriage plans and it’s our old family home—one of those big Victorian horrors. Of course, Matt Caldwell’s sweet on her. She may give in and marry him one day and move out.”

  For some reason, that casual remark played on Tom’s mind all day long, and into the night. Matt hadn’t mentioned Elysia at all when they’d talked, before he moved to Jacobsville. He wondered if the omission had been deliberate. Maybe Matt had known that Tom and Elysia were acquainted and was protecting what he thought of as his property. It was odd that he hadn’t mentioned her.

  * * *

  Moose was waiting for him when he got home. The dog really was huge, he thought, as he fended off huge paws on his chest and an affectionate tongue the size of a washcloth.

  “Down, you moose,” he muttered, laughing as he patted the dog’s head. “Hungry, are you, or desperate for a fire hydrant? Come on.”

  He led the way to the back door and opened it. The backyard was fenced and reinforced on the bottom, fortunately, because Moose liked to dig. Local gardeners wouldn’t appreciate a visit from his pet.

  He waited until Moose was ready to come back in and opened the door for him. He filled the food and water dishes and left the big animal to have his supper.

  Tom went through his cabinets looking for something to tempt his appetite. He finally settled on a bowl of cold cereal. He had no appetite at all. Too many questions were plaguing him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tom’s opinion of the new Elysia underwent a series of changes in the following few weeks. There was still plenty of gossip about her in Jacobsville, and he heard it all in bits and pieces of conversation when Elysia’s comings and goings were noticed by local citizens. One acquaintance thought she’d only married Fred Nash for his money, and that it was this inherited wealth that had made her exclusive fashion boutique possible. It was known that their union was one of friendship, not passion, and that there was a great age difference. And that Fred had been very, very rich.

  He didn’t believe the unpleasant remarks at first, but it was impossible not to notice how prosperous she was. She’d bought into her brother’s cattle farm and held half ownership of it. She also had investments of several kinds, including some very expensive oil stock. She had her daughter enrolled in a very well-known girls’ school in Houston for the fall term, and she drove a Mercedes convertible. Poor, she wasn’t.

  With her investments and the nearest counseling office in Victoria, it was inevitable that Luke was going to suggest that she bring her portfolio to Tom.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she told her brother after supper that night.

  “Why not?” Luke asked. “He’s a whiz. Ask the Ballenger brothers.”

  “I know he’s good at picking stocks that increase in value,” Elysia replied calmly. “But he’s an intelligent man and he isn’t blind. I don’t want him around Crissy.”

  Luke sat back with a soft sigh, his blue eyes sympathetic. “She’s almost six years old,” he said pointedly. “She’s already in kindergarten. Don’t you think it’s time he knew he was a father?”

  She grimaced, leaning forward with her forearms crossed over her knees. “I don’t know how he’d react,” she said. “He was…less than encouraging when I left the office for good. I think he was relieved that I went away.” She shrugged. “I don’t think he’s lacked female company.”

  “Then isn’t it interesting that he doesn’t date?” he asked shrewdly. “That was the case in Houston, too. And since I haven’t heard any gossip about Mr. Walker liking men, I gather that he’s amazingly selective about his dates. One woman in over six years, I believe…?”

  She flushed red. “He was drinking. I told you.”

  He leaned forward, too, his face serious. “Jacob Cade and I became fairly good friends over the years. He never came right out and said anything, but he intimated that his wife and Tom had a very brutal childhood. Their father had a brain tumor and went stark-raving mad before he died. He attacked Kate physically because she just smi
led at a young man.”

  “Wh…what?”

  He nodded. “That’s right. In his distorted mind, he equated sex with evil and made his kids believe it. Neither of them had anything to do with the opposite sex, even after he died. He warped them, Ellie. Now imagine how it would be, to have a parent who browbeat you into repressing your sexuality for years and years. And then imagine how it would be if you grew older with no experience whatsoever with the opposite sex? Do you think a man, especially, would find it easy to become involved with a woman?”

  She was barely breathing. “You aren’t going to tell me that you think Tom is a…a…”

  He nodded. “That’s exactly what I think. He and Kate were very close. When she married Jacob, Tom had nobody. He was totally alone. Probably getting a snootful of liquor was the only way he could let go of those repressed desires.”

  She sat back with a rough sigh. It actually made sense. She felt her heart beating wildly in her chest as she recalled how it had been with Tom. At the office, he’d avoided the female staff. He and Elysia had become close because she didn’t make eyes at him. She wasn’t aggressive, as some of the women were. She was shy and reserved, and she must have been the least threatening female he knew. He’d opened up with her, just a little. And then right after Kate had married, he’d had too much to drink and Elysia had been nearby. Perhaps he’d given in to feelings he couldn’t express, and then been ashamed of what he’d done, because of his childhood teachings.

  The thought made her heart race. Could it be possible that she was Tom Walker’s first, only, woman in that way? Her lips parted.

  “Do you think it’s possible?” she asked hesitantly.

  “That it was his first time?” He nodded. “He’s no rounder. Nobody would accuse him of being a playboy. He’s courteous to women, but there’s an icy tone to his dealings with them. He’s polite, but nothing more.” He smiled. “He was very impressed with Crissy. You’ve never seen his sister Kate, have you?”

  “No.”

  He chuckled softly. “Well, I have. Crissy could be her daughter. I’m sure the resemblance didn’t escape Tom, even if he hasn’t quite recognized it yet.”

 

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