by Debra Webb
His eyes never left hers, searching, analyzing. "You don't really want me here, do you?"
Lauren folded her arms over her middle, the move proving an ineffective barrier against his all-seeing gaze. He was reading her like an open book. "No, I don't want you here," she admitted, her voice shaky with emotion. "I want you to go away and never come back," she added in all honesty and to her complete surprise. Oh, God, how could she have let that slip out?
"But you know I won't."
She met his penetrating gaze head-on. "I know."
Realization dawned in his eyes. "So Davis told you to humor me until he could figure out some other way to deal with me?"
"No," Lauren denied quickly. She lowered her eyes from his accusing ones and focused on that patch of sleek skin visible at the vee of his shirt. She tried her level best to think of something to say that would convince him she had no hidden agenda, but nothing came.
"Just so you know," he began in a tone that sent shivers up her spine. "I'm not going anywhere until I prove that Sarah is my daughter."
Lauren jerked her head up to meet his lethal glare.
"And when I go, she goes with me," he finished, his expression devoid of any emotion now.
Lauren struggled against the panic that flashed through her. She hugged herself more tightly and stared into those cold, gray eyes, thankful that the table stood between them. "What Sarah needs or wants means nothing to you?" she returned, her own voice oddly emotionless.
"Sarah will learn to want and need me."
Lauren shook her head. "You have no idea what you're proposing."
"Enlighten me," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"Sarah is in school." Lauren moistened her lips and held his gaze, hard as that proved, and continued, "She needs a stable home. She needs to be with her friends. To know where she'll wake up each morning and where she'll sleep at night." The words rushed from her mouth. She had to say it all before she lost the courage. "The road is no place for a child." Lauren's gaze moved to his mouth. Those full lips taunted her with memories of how they felt against hers…how they tasted of mystery and heat. The war between fear and desire intensified, making her weak.
"And only you can give her those things?" The sharp edge of sarcasm added bite to his words.
"You…you move from place to place," Lauren stammered, grasping at the few details she knew, the same ones he had just admitted. "That kind of life wouldn't be fair to any child."
"You think I can't provide a stable home myself? You believe I'm not capable of staying in one place?"
"I don't see how," Lauren told him carefully.
"Don't think you and Davis will be rid of me so easily," he warned. "I won't settle for a few grudging visits with my daughter." Gray pushed his chair back to the table. "Good-bye, Ms. Whitmore."
Lauren watched him walk toward the door and before she could stop herself, she blurted, "And what's to keep me from turning the tables on you, Longwalker? You're not the only one who can push the issue. I could take Sarah and run." Her determination grew stronger with every beat of her heart.
He stopped, turned around slowly and leveled his intense gaze steady on hers. "And I would find you," he assured her. "No matter where you went, I would find you."
There it was—the bottom line. She and Sarah were stuck with him. No matter what happened in a court of law, Lauren knew she would never be rid of him. Gray Longwalker had staked his claim and he didn't intend to back off.
"But she's my life," Lauren whispered. Her vision blurred with the burn of unshed tears. How could she make him understand?
"She's my daughter."
Chapter Seven
Golden light and country music spilled into the night from the huge barn-like structure Thatcher used as a community center. When Gray had passed the place earlier that afternoon it hadn't escaped his attention that the center had been built and donated to the town by Buckmaster Brothers Construction.
Buckmaster.
Gray clenched his jaw and stepped out of his truck and into the parking lot. He settled his hat into place and walked slowly toward the festivities. When you had met one Buckmaster you had met them all—greedy snakes, the whole lot of them. Fortunately there were only two left—the sons. The old man, sorry piece of horse dung he was, had finally died. The sudden heart attack that had taken him out was too easy in Gray's opinion.
James Buckmaster, Sr., had come from old money. He, like his father before him and his sons after him, had enjoyed the many benefits that come with money and the power it can buy. Land, social position, political ties and women.
Gray stopped short of the wide-open doors leading into the community center and released a slow, heavy breath. The Buckmaster men always married well, but it was never enough. They had to have anyone else that appealed to their selfish desires. And when it was over, the woman was always destroyed—if not by her own depression, then by social ostracism.
Leah Longwalker had died long before she'd stopped breathing.
Gray closed his eyes and steadied himself against the rage that once more threatened to consume him. He wouldn't give in. He had worked too long and too hard to separate himself from his past—from the anger. He refused to be drawn back into that vicious cycle of self-destruction.
As soon as the legal matters concerning Sarah were settled, he would leave this godforsaken town and never come back.
"Never," Gray muttered as he sauntered into the benefit dance for the Conroy family.
He scanned the crowded room—for no one in particular, he told himself.
It was a lie.
He knew it.
Gray sighed and pushed through the crowd to find himself an out-of-the-way corner in which to lounge. He wanted to observe Lauren Whitmore with Buck, the elder of the two Buckmaster brothers, to see just what the situation between them amounted to. Not that it was any of his business, but that minor detail had never stopped him before.
Gray ignored the curious glances, hard stares and murmurings his presence elicited. He wondered if it would make any difference to these people that he didn't want to be here any more than they wanted him here? He doubted it.
Occasional laughter and incessant chatter flowed from the throngs milling about. Several couples whirled around the area designated as the dance floor.
Gray made his way past the refreshment tables and finally found a good spot in a corner on the other side of the room. Most of those in attendance had stationed themselves as close to the refreshment tables or the building's entrance as possible; some interested in getting their money's worth in food and drink, while the others focused their attention on who came and went.
Gray didn't acknowledge anyone he met, and they didn't acknowledge him, unless you counted their blatant stares or quickly averted gazes.
Gray swore silently. He had made a hefty donation to the cause, so he had every right to be here.
He leaned back against the paneled wall and hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. He surveyed the crowd twice more before he encountered Lauren…and Buck.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and a sickening sense of dread filled his gut as Gray watched the laughing couple. Buck drew Lauren out onto the dance floor as the band struck up a slow song.
A rich-green dress clung to Lauren's slight curves. With a hem that fell past her knees, long sleeves and a high neckline, the dress left everything to the imagination, and Gray had a very vivid imagination. As she had earlier that day, Lauren wore her hair up, with long, wispy strands falling around her face. Gray didn't have to get an up close look to know that the color of the dress would bring out the exotic green of her eyes.
Need gripped him. Gray shifted and silently cursed his lack of control where Lauren Whitmore was concerned. He hadn't been this easily stirred since he was a teenager. Gray shifted again, bent one knee and pressed his foot against the wall for support.
When Buck pulled Lauren closer into the circle of his arms, Gray'
s jaw clenched so tight that one corner of his mouth twitched from the tension. He crossed his arms over his chest and forced back the emotion he recognized immediately as envy.
He didn't want Lauren Whitmore.
Fighting for control, Gray turned away from the sight. He would look anywhere else but at her. Buck could have her. The only thing Gray wanted was his daughter.
If his soul weren't already damned to Hades, Gray knew he'd be going for sure, considering all the lies he had told himself since arriving in Thatcher.
His child, he reiterated, was all he had come for and was all he intended to leave with. At least that was the truth.
As if on cue, his eyes found Sarah. She and two other little girls were drinking from colorful disposable cups near the refreshment area. Sarah kept one arm locked securely around her doll, Leah.
The other two girls appeared to be about the same age as Sarah. One was blond and one dark, but not as dark as Sarah. The dark-haired girl also held a doll, similar to Sarah's except with honey-colored hair.
Gray watched the threesome and wondered if Sarah was treated as an equal—something he had never been. The little blond evidently asked the dark-haired girl if she could hold her doll, for the dark-haired girl clutched her doll possessively and turned away. Gray's heart went out to the blond. He wondered if she didn't have a doll of her own or maybe she had just forgotten to bring it.
Pride filled him and a smile eased across his lips when Sarah held her precious Leah out to the little blond girl. Gray couldn't prevent the immediate acknowledgment that Lauren had done a fine job in teaching Sarah to be considerate of others. Sarah showed respect for her elders and obeyed without much fuss. Lauren hadn't failed Sharon.
His smile thinned. He could do the job just as well. He could give Sarah anything she needed or wanted. It didn't take a woman to raise a child. There were lots of single fathers out there bringing up families.
Gray didn't realize the music had changed until Lauren and Buck stepped into his line of vision. The little girls all seemed to be talking at once to Lauren. She smiled and acknowledged each child in turn. She smoothed a hand over Sarah's long dark hair and said something to her. Lauren was a good mother to his daughter, he had to admit. Her smile widened at something Sarah said, and Gray reacted.
A mere smile from the woman—a smile that wasn't even directed at him—sent a jolt of desire thundering through him.
He hated this blasted attraction to the woman, almost as much as he hated—
Gray's thought ended abruptly as Buck swept Sarah into his arms and swung her around. A red-hot, violent rage washed over Gray so fast his next breath failed in his lungs. He had charged halfway across the crowded room before he realized he had taken the first step.
His eyes never leaving Sarah, Gray didn't stop until he stood face-to-face with Buck.
"Put her down," Gray commanded harshly.
* * *
LAUREN LOOKED UP just in time to get a good glimpse of the violent rage in Gray Longwalker's eyes. Her heart stumbled, and adrenaline rushed through her veins. He looked ready to kill somebody or at the very least tear someone apart—and that someone appeared to be Buck.
"Well, well, Longwalker," Buck said, his smile widening into a smug grin as his hold tightened on Sarah. "I've never known you to be community oriented."
"I said put her down," Gray repeated, his voice as equally lethal as the look in his eyes.
"Maybe you'd like to try—"
"Let's take a walk with your little friends, Sarah," Lauren said quickly, cutting Buck off. She stepped between the two angry men and plucked Sarah from Buck's arms.
"I played my puzzle again, Mr. Gray," Sarah piped up before Lauren could whisk her away.
Gray shifted his attention to the child in Lauren's arms. He blinked, and all signs of anger disappeared from his angular features; tenderness filled his fierce gray eyes. When he gave the child an uncharacteristic smile, Lauren's heart stumbled a second time.
"All by yourself?" he asked, his deep voice gentle.
Sarah nodded enthusiastically. "All by myself, right, Mommy?"
Lauren pushed a smile into place. "That's right," she agreed, giving her little girl a squeeze. When Lauren's heart skipped again it had nothing to do with the breathtaking smile on Gray Longwalker's lips and everything to do with the deadly glare emitting danger signals from Buck.
"Girls, I think we need to solve the mystery of missing toilet paper in the ladies' room," a feminine voice chimed from behind Lauren.
Rosemary. Lauren felt weak with relief. She passed Sarah to Rosemary and mouthed a thank-you. Rosemary shot Lauren a knowing look of sympathy.
"Come along, girls," Rosemary instructed Elly and Missy, Sarah's friends and schoolmates. Sarah wiggled out of Rosemary's grasp, and all three little girls skipped away with Rosemary's promise of adventure.
Lauren turned her attention back to the two men just in time to hear Buck say vehemently, "That child deserves better than you, Longwalker."
Everything inside Lauren froze in expectation of Gray's retaliation. Fear slammed through her like water pushing through a bursting dam.
"Buck, please," Lauren pleaded. "Don't do this. Not here, not now." She placed a hand on his rigid arm and prayed that he would regain his senses or at least temporary control of his temper. From the top of his blond head to the bottom of his booted feet, Buck looked ready for battle. A muscle jumped in his tense jaw; his fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly at his sides.
"Well that sure disqualifies you, Buckmaster," Gray said in a tone that sounded deceptively calm.
Barely checked rage radiated from Gray Longwalker. Lauren could feel the heat and thickness of it, but unlike Buck there was an utter stillness about Gray. No clenched fists…no rigid stance. Just the absolute calm one could sense during the final, tense moments before a death-dealing storm.
"A smart man would leave about now," Buck warned.
"Leaving yourself out again?" Gray goaded.
A small, curious crowd quickly gathered around them in anticipation of a fight. Lauren scanned the faces for Don or someone else whom she could depend on to intervene, but no one appeared. She had to do something. She couldn't just let this happen.
Buck took a step toward Gray. "Don't think you can waltz back into town and take whatever suits you," he said from between clenched teeth. "Nothing's changed here, Longwalker. People haven't forgotten what you are. You're still a half-breed bastard and you always will be."
All the air rushed out of Lauren's lungs. Fear clenched like a fist in her chest, twisting her heart. How could Buck say such a thing? No matter who or what Gray Longwalker was or had been, he was still Sarah's father. Lauren wasn't about to chance Sarah being exposed to this kind of viciousness.
She turned to Gray, a rebuttal of Buck's hurtful words on the tip of her tongue, but the words died a swift death. Though his face looked impassive, his eyes told the tale. Every instinct warned Lauren to grab Sarah and run from the fury that was no doubt about to descend upon Buck.
"Nothing's ever gonna change here for you," Buck taunted.
Gray still didn't flinch. Save for the darkening storm building in those fierce gray eyes, he remained so motionless that Lauren felt certain he must have turned to stone. All eyes were now focused on the evolving scene. Even the band had stopped playing. Whatever happened to "and the band played on"? The words skated across Lauren's mind, making her want to laugh hysterically, but there was no humor in the situation.
Dear God, Lauren prayed, don't let Sarah overhear or see something she shouldn't. Lauren hoped with all her heart that Rosemary would keep Sarah and her little friends occupied out of range of this nightmare.
A sardonic smile suddenly broke Gray's statue-like features. "You should know better than anyone what a bastard I am."
"Why you son of—" Buck exploded into action, taking a furious swing at Gray. Heated shouts burst from the crowd that surrounded them. Everyone stepped back to giv
e the two men room to duke it out.
In one smooth, quick-as-lightning move, Gray caught Buck's arm and halted the blow just before it connected with his jaw. He jerked Buck close and whispered something in his ear. Buck staggered back a step and jerked free of Gray's hold, his face drawn and pale.
"I won't ruin this evening on account of the likes of you," Buck spat vehemently as he took another step back.
Gray held Buck's gaze a heartbeat longer before he turned and walked away. The murmuring crowd parted like the Red Sea for him to pass.
Lauren looked from Gray's retreating form to Buck and back. Two seconds later she was pushing her way through the dispersing crowd. Somehow she had to make this right. She couldn't allow Longwalker to leave angry. He might decide he'd had enough of this town and snatch Sarah and take off tonight.
He had all but disappeared into the shadows on the far side of the parking lot by the time Lauren caught sight of him again. "Gray, wait!" she called out as she hurried after him. She had no idea what to say to the man, but she had to say something…anything to smooth things over.
Gray didn't stop until he had reached his truck. He faced her and waited impatiently.
"What do you want?" he asked when Lauren came to a breathless stop beside him.
"I'm sorry about what happened inside." Lauren swallowed and dragged in another gulp of air before she continued. "Buck had no right to speak to you that way."
The heat from his eyes burned into hers. His mouth had tightened into that firm line he usually wore.
"I don't need your sympathy or your misplaced good intentions," he growled. He gave her his back and reached for the door to his truck.
Lauren stepped quickly between him and the door. "Just tell me one thing before you go," she insisted. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with her pounding heart.
He released an irritated breath and glared at her. "What?"
"What did you say to Buck to put the fear of God in him? I've never seen a man go from battle ready to backpedaling in such a hurry in my entire life." Lauren regarded him steadily and waited for the anger she knew still raged inside him to ease. She had to do this, right? She couldn't just let this situation fester.