Chase handed her another piece of cookie. “Give her that. Just hold it in your palm. She doesn’t bite.”
Lucie’s father had taught her to ride. She’d been around horses who were biters, horses that were gentle, and horses who would obey every command. In the Chesterfield stables, Lucie had a special horse, and she understood all about communication between mount and rider and bonds that had formed since childhood. Her horse, Mayfield, took her on trail rides and listened to all her woes and joys.
Holding her hand still with the cookie treat on her palm, she waited. Gypsy snorted and seemed to look Lucie over. Then she took a step forward, snuffled Lucie’s fingers and licked up the treat. As she chewed, she stared at Lucie, and Lucie took another step forward. Gypsy didn’t retreat and Lucie saw that as a good sign.
“Can I pet you?” she asked the horse.
Gypsy stood by Chase’s side, not moving, so Lucie ruffled her fingers under the mane, slid them along the smooth neck and petted Gypsy’s flank. “You’re a beauty.”
“Yes, she is,” Chase said, but he wasn’t looking at Gypsy. He was gazing at her. He gave Gypsy another treat and said, “I’ll take you for a run later.”
As they walked back into the barn, the magnetic pull toward Chase was getting stronger and stronger, and Lucie knew there was only one way to break it.
“I really should get going,” she said.
Chase didn’t argue with her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Silence again stretched between them as they returned the way they had come. Once they arrived at Lucie’s car door, she opened it. When she looked up at Chase, she wasn’t sure how to say goodbye. Maybe he wasn’t sure either, because he reached out and ran his thumb over her cheek. He brushed her hair behind her ear and looked down at her with longing that she so wanted to appease.
Suddenly he said, “We’re in this mess because I convinced you to marry me ten years ago.”
“You didn’t need to work hard to convince me. It was as much my decision as yours. You didn’t coerce me, Chase. I married you freely. We were reckless and impulsive, and now we just have to be mature about what we do next.”
“Mature. Grown-up. Doing the right thing. Sometimes it’s hard to know the right thing, isn’t it? I thought I was doing the right thing by staying here after my dad’s stroke. But now it’s going to be that much harder to tear myself away. For them, not me. I don’t want to hurt them, but I need my own life.”
“You don’t want to feel trapped,” she empathized.
“And neither do you. You’re trapped by the paparazzi, by the life you’ve led up till now, by a marriage that wasn’t really a marriage.”
“My life isn’t going to change that much, one way or the other,” she assured him. “I’ve accepted my role.”
“Life should be more than a role,” he advised her.
Perhaps he was right. She hated the fact that she didn’t know when she would see him again. But she shouldn’t be looking forward to it. There were so many shouldn’ts in her life and maybe too many shoulds.
When she climbed into her car, Chase still didn’t close the door. Lucie gazed up at the house and thought she saw a curtain move in a second-story window. Was Chase’s mother watching them?
Chase leaned down and rested his hand on Lucie’s shoulder. “You will look into whether the Fortune Foundation wants to fund the program my mother suggested?”
“I will look into it, then I’ll give her a call.” She wouldn’t have to talk to Chase again, not really.
Maybe he saw the determination in her eyes, or maybe he just heard it in her voice. He leaned away and straightened. Then he backed up and shut the door for her.
That closure sounded like an end rather than a beginning.
That was the way it had to be.
* * *
The following morning, after Lucie spoke with Emmett, she called Florence Parker. She wasn’t nervous about the call. After all, she didn’t have to worry about Chase picking up. He was in the guesthouse. He would most likely not answer the phone at his mom and dad’s residence.
She was right, because the maid answered. Lucie recognized her voice from the brunch the previous day.
“I’ll fetch Mrs. Parker right away. Hold on please.”
In no more than a minute, Florence Parker herself was on the line. “I’m so glad to hear from you. That was quick.”
“Emmett answered my question immediately. He assured me the Fortune Foundation could fund the program you mentioned. But I need to take a look at it and make notes about the program itself. Would your minister be okay with me dropping in?”
“I’m sure he would if he has a little notice. When are you thinking about?”
“How about tomorrow after school? I just want to observe and make some notes about the age groups and their needs.”
“What time were you thinking?” Florence asked.
“Around three?”
“I’m sure Reverend Stanhope will be fine with the idea once he knows he can get funding to keep the after-school program open. I’ll call him, then call you back. Would that be all right?”
“That would be fine.”
“I’ll try to be there myself,” Florence said. “I often volunteer and can show you around if the reverend is busy. Sometimes he’s shorthanded, and that’s one of the problems I’d like to cure. Volunteers are wonderful, but sometimes a paid position is necessary to keep it all running smoothly. Let me give you the address of the church.”
“Is the program right on the premises?”
“It is, in the church’s social hall. Do you have a pen and paper?”
“I do.”
Florence rattled off the name of the church and the address. “Thank you so much again for taking this to the Fortune Foundation.”
“I was glad to be able to help.”
After Lucie ended the call, she felt as if she’d done something worthwhile. She would give the after-school program a thorough evaluation and then present her findings to Emmett.
* * *
Lucie arrived at the interdenominational church the following afternoon with a smile and her electronic tablet in her purse. She already had evaluation forms set up on there, and she could just type in her observations. She was excited about this first Fortune-funded project in Austin and ready to speak with the reverend and Florence Parker.
However, when she opened the door to the social hall and stepped inside, she didn’t find Florence. She found Chase!
She stopped in her tracks, her mint-colored A-line dress swishing around her knees. She didn’t think twice about asking, “What are you doing here?”
The first words out of his mouth surprised her even more than she expected. “Pretend you don’t know me,” he said in a low voice.
“What?”
Glancing over his shoulder to the room inside, where there was noise and commotion, he repeated, “Pretend you don’t know me. My mother was supposed to be here to meet you, but she wasn’t feeling well and she asked me to come in her stead.”
Lucie had never known Chase to be anything but honest. As far as she could tell, he was being sincere now. But what about Florence? Did she really not feel well? She couldn’t be trying to push them together, could she?
Knowing Chase was right and that no one could know their connection, Lucie forced herself to smile and extend her hand.
Chase took it and shook it, but he held on a few moments too long, and she felt the ripple of sexual awareness travel through her whole body. Pretend they didn’t know each other? These would have to be Oscar-winning performances.
As if they had just met, Chase motioned her into the larger room and led her to the minister. After introductions, Reverend Stanhope, a tall, thin man with wire-rimmed glasses that fell down his n
ose, nodded to the children, who didn’t seem to be organized well.
He pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “I know you’re here to evaluate our program. Please ask any questions you’d like. We’re open to suggestions to make it better, even if you don’t take us on as a project.”
She was used to working with children at the orphanages. All ages. Here, she could see exactly what needed to be done first. There was one motherly looking woman at a table participating in an activity with the smaller children, encouraging them to color and draw pictures. But the rest of the kids were pretty much on their own and not doing a good job of keeping themselves busy. There was squabbling in one corner and raucous roughhousing in another.
“You just have one helper today?” Lucie asked.
“I do. I’m down two volunteers to the flu.”
“The first thing we need to do is divide the children who are ages five to seven in one group and eight to twelve in the other. Do you mind if we do that?”
The minister looked relieved that someone had a suggestion he could incorporate. “I don’t mind at all.”
“I can take the older kids outside,” Chase offered. “Do you have a ball?”
She admired Chase’s desire to help and wondered if he’d be good with the kids. “That would be a great idea.”
She clapped her hands to gain the children’s attention, introduced herself and Chase to them and began to organize.
* * *
After an hour of dodgeball, Chase felt he’d had a workout. He rounded up the children and took them back inside. Once they’d chosen books from a shelf and settled in a reading corner, he directed them to choose a partner. They could read to each other.
Suddenly, he heard a little boy crying, and he looked over to see Lucie crouched down with one of the five-year-olds.
“But I can’t find it,” the little boy wailed.
“What color is it?” Lucie asked gently.
“Red with white letters. It says my name—Dave.”
“Okay, Dave. Let’s think about where you had it last. When was the last time you wore your cap?”
“I had it on before we were dancing. I had it on before we were singing.”
Dancing and singing. Lucie was probably good at both. He could imagine her leading the kids.
“How about before that?” she asked the child.
Dave poked two fingers into his mouth. “I had it on before I played hopscotch.” He suddenly grinned. “It’s on the bench outside. It fell off and I left it.”
“Come on,” Lucie said with excitement. “Let’s go see if it’s still there.”
Sure enough, two minutes later, when they both came back inside, Dave was wearing his cap. He wrapped his arm around Lucie and gave her a huge hug. “Thank you. My mom would be mad if I lost it. She bought it for me when we went to San Antonio.”
“I’m sure she’d be more concerned that you were upset. But now you have it. How about drawing a special picture of that cap?”
Chase was aware of every word Lucie spoke to the little boy, but he wasn’t only aware of that. He was aware of her arm around the child’s shoulders, the tone of her voice that was compassionate and ready to help any way she could. Sure, she’d had practice. She’d helped children around the world. Would she ever think about a life of her own and children of her own?
Parents began arriving to pick up their kids. Lucie saw the reverend say goodbye to his last volunteer, who was looking kind of pale.
The minister came over to Lucie and Chase, shaking his head.
“I think I’m going to have to close down the program for the next few days. I certainly can’t handle this crowd on my own. My last volunteer thinks she’s coming down with whatever is going around.”
“Let me talk to Mr. Parker a few minutes before you make a decision,” Lucie suggested to the reverend.
She and Chase went to a quiet corner.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“I know this is awkward, and I know we have to pretend we didn’t meet each other before, but do you think we can help the next few days? I hate to see Reverend Stanhope close down the program in the midst of deciding whether we’re going to fund it or not. I’ve had background checks done for the work I do. I don’t know if we can get you cleared or not.”
“I know the police chief,” Chase informed her. “Maybe he can get a background check through quickly for me. It only takes about twenty-four hours. I want to help you with this. And as far as pretending we don’t know each other goes, we can pull it off.”
They’d done a good job this afternoon, but she’d been inside and he’d been outside.
“Can you spare a couple of hours away from Parker Oil tomorrow?”
“It will be a good test for my CFO. I want to see if he can handle whatever comes up on his own. If he can do that, I’ll know I’m leaving the company in good hands when I leave.”
“And if he can’t?”
“Then I’ll find someone else. I trust Jeff, though. I don’t think he’ll let me down.”
“So we’re going to offer to help?”
“It’s a done deal,” he said, holding out his hand again so they could shake on it. This time she slipped hers into his and then quickly pulled it back again.
Chase’s knowing smile said he knew what she was doing. She didn’t fool him one little bit.
“Since you have your own car and I have my own car, why don’t you follow me again to the truck stop? They have great breakfast-for-dinner specials.”
Lucie knew she shouldn’t. Chase Parker was a temptation that could land her in all kinds of trouble—with her family, with the press, with her life. On the other hand, chocolate chip pancakes and Chase were very hard to resist.
* * *
At the truck stop, Lucie didn’t see Chase’s car. He apparently hadn’t arrived yet. She was overtaken with the knowledge that she shouldn’t have come. She was sending Chase the wrong message that she wanted to spend time with him. Time with him was not going to help their situation. Time with him was only putting her in a tailspin. Time with him was reminding her of time in the past, when they’d held each other and kissed and made love.
She had stowed her wig in the car for emergencies and she put it on now, combing it into place. Exiting her car, she glanced around and then entered the diner, passed down the row of booths, finally taking a different one than where they’d sat in the last time...just because. Never do the same thing twice. Always do the unexpected. Don’t give the media a pattern to follow.
Finally Chase came into the diner and slid into the bench seat across from her, wearing his sunglasses.
She had to smile. “I can recognize you even with the sunglasses,” she said.
“And I can recognize you even with the wig.”
Was it true that they still knew each other so well after ten years? Maybe so.
Lucie was grateful when a different waitress waited on them this time and took their order. A different shift. That was good.
When she said as much to Chase, he reached across the table and took her hand. “For ten minutes, Lucie, just ten minutes, forget who you are and what you have to do. Just enjoy your chocolate chip pancakes with the whipped cream and talk to me about whatever matters to you.”
She wished she could just let go of everything that easily, but for ten minutes—“I’ll try.”
He nodded and squeezed her hand. She felt that squeeze deep inside, but then he let go and sat back. Taking off his sunglasses, he pocketed them.
She unwrapped her silverware, took the napkin and spread it on her lap. Silence hovered between them.
Lucie asked, “Do you really want me to talk about what’s important to me?”
“I do.”
“Those k
ids back there are important to me. I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile when I’m singing a song with them or teaching them a dance. You can see knowledge exploding in their eyes when you show them something new. There is so much innocence there and precociousness and curiosity. Don’t you wish we could all keep some of that as we grow older?”
“I wish we could. But that seems to be impossible. Problems and stress weigh us down.”
“But they have stress, too. They see their parents argue. They don’t get along with a brother or sister. They’re scared to come to school. They don’t know how to play a game and they’re afraid the kids will laugh at them. They don’t seem like big stresses to us, but they are to them.”
“You really know a lot about kids, don’t you?”
“I’ve probably been with them more than adults over the past eight years, anyway.”
The waitress brought them mugs of coffee. After she disappeared again, Chase put his elbows on the table and leaned in. “So, tell me about your life and your dreams. You obviously love children. How many do you want someday?”
To her amazement, she admitted the truth. “I haven’t given it much thought.”
“And if you did?” he prompted.
If she did... Her mouth suddenly went dry. If she had children, she imagined having them with him! Impossible.
She had to answer his question because he was sitting there, studying her, waiting for her response. “Thinking about it, I think I’d like three.”
“Or four?” he countered with a teasing glint in his eye. “Two girls and two boys, so none of them feel out of place or outnumbered. Of course, we’d have to throw in some horses, and maybe a dog or two.”
She laughed, a genuine laugh that had nothing to do with the past or the future and everything to do with now.
As they discussed the kids in the after-school program and what activities they’d devise for the next day, their pancakes arrived.
They both dug in with gusto.
Chase downed his faster than Lucie did. He was finishing up when he reached across the table again. This time, not to hold her hand but to swipe a bit of whipped cream from the corner of her lip. His finger, his touch, was gentle but sensual. She wished she could touch him in the same way. She wished she was kissing him.
Fortune's Secret Husband Page 7