by Diana Palmer
“She’ll remember,” Manolo said ruefully, and turned away before the boss could see the look on his face. Poor little kid. She needed hugging, not yelling.
Blake went in the house a few minutes later and looked for Sarah, but she was nowhere in sight. Mrs. Jackson had heard her come in, but she hadn’t seen her because she was working in the front of the house.
He checked Sarah’s bedroom, but she wasn’t there, either. Then he remembered what she’d said about being locked in the closet when she was bad….
He jerked open the closet door and there she sat, her face red and tear stained, sobbing and looking as if she hadn’t a friend in the world.
“Go away,” she sniffed.
He got down awkwardly on one knee. “You’ll suffocate in here.”
“I hate you.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said. “The horse could have hurt you very badly.”
She touched the dusty lace handkerchief to her red eyes. “You yelled at me.”
He grimaced. “You scared me,” he muttered, averting his gaze. “I never thought I’d get to you in time.”
She sniffed and got up on her knees under the hanging dresses and blouses and slacks. “You didn’t want me to get hurt?”
“Of course I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he snapped, green eyes flashing.
“You’re yelling at me again,” she said, pouting.
He sighed angrily. “Well, I’ve been doing it for a lot of years, and I won’t change. You’ll just have to get used to my temper.” He stared at her half-angrily. “I thought I was getting the hang of it, and you had to go crawl in with a bucking bronco and set me back.”
“Everybody used to yell at me,” she told him solemnly. “But they didn’t do it just if I got hurt. They didn’t like me.”
“I like you. That’s why I yelled,” he muttered.
She smiled through her tears. “Really and truly?” He grimaced. “Really and truly.” He got up. “Come out of there.”
“Are you going to spank me?” she asked.
“No.”
“I won’t do it again.”
“You’d better not.” He took her hand and led her downstairs. When Mrs. Jackson found out what had happened, she took a fresh coconut cake out of the pantry, sliced it up and poured Sarah a soft drink. She even smiled. Sarah dried her eyes and smiled back.
On Monday Blake took two hours off at lunch and went to a toy store. He bought an armful of dolls and assorted girlish toys and took them to the house without fully understanding his motives. Maybe it was relief that Sarah was all right or guilt because he’d hurt her.
But she sat down in the living room with her new friends—which included a huge stuffed teddy bear—and the way she handled her toys was enough to bring a tear to the eye. She hugged the teddy bear, then she hugged Blake, who was half delighted and half embarrassed by her exuberance.
“You’re just the nicest daddy in the whole world,” Sarah Jane said, and she was crying again. She wiped her eyes with her hands. “I have a new Mr. Friend now, and he can help you fight monsters.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Behave yourself.” He went out the door quickly, more moved than he wanted to admit by his daughter’s reception to the impromptu toy surprise.
On the way back to work, he remembered what Sarah had said about Meredith playing dolls with her. Meredith had been trying to keep Sarah at arms’ length, so he wondered at her actions. Had he been wrong about Meredith’s motives? Had he misjudged what he thought was her reason for avoiding Sarah?
He remembered all too well the feel of Meredith’s soft, innocent mouth under his that day in the stable, the wonder in her eyes when he’d lifted his head just briefly to look down at her. And then he’d lost control and frightened her, turning the wonder to panic.
That she’d loved him didn’t bear thinking about. At least he and Sarah were closer than ever. But she needed more than a father. Sarah needed a mother. Someone to read her stories, to play with her. Someone like Meredith. It made him feel warm to think of Meredith doing those things with his daughter. In time she might even get over the past and start looking ahead. She might fall in love with him all over again.
His body reacted feverishly to that thought, and as quickly his mind rejected it. He didn’t want her to love him. He felt guilt for the way he’d treated her and he still wanted her, but love wasn’t a word in his vocabulary anymore. It hurt too much.
Letting her get close would be risky. Meredith had every reason in the world to want to get even with him. He scowled. Would Meredith want revenge if he could bring himself to tell her the truth about why he’d been so rough with her?
Not that he needed her, he assured himself. It was only that Sarah liked her and needed her. But Meredith wouldn’t come to the house. She wasn’t going to let him, or Sarah, get close to her, and that was the big hurdle. How, he wondered, could he overcome it?
He worried the thought for two days and still hadn’t figured out a solution, when he had to fly to Dallas on business for the day. But fate was on his side.
While he was gone, Mrs. Jackson’s only living sister had a heart attack and a neighbor called asking Amie to come to Wichita, Kansas, and help look after her. That left Mrs. Jackson with nobody to look after Sarah. She couldn’t take the child with her while she tried to care for a heart patient. She called Elissa, but she and her husband and child were out of town. Bess wouldn’t be able to cope with the angry little girl. That left only one person in Jack’s Corner who might be willing to try.
Without hesitation, Mrs. Jackson picked up the phone and called Meredith Calhoun.
Chapter 5
Sarah Jane was almost dancing with pleasure when Meredith came in the door. She ran to her, arms outstretched, and Meredith instinctively picked her up and hugged her warmly. Maternal instincts she hadn’t indulged since Blake had sent her running came to the fore, making her soft.
“Now don’t you give Meredith any trouble, young lady,” Mrs. Jackson cautioned Sarah Jane. “Meredith, this is my sister’s phone number, but I’ll call as soon as I know something and tell Mr. Blake what’s going on. I hope he won’t mind.”
“You know very well he won’t,” Meredith said. “I’m sorry about your sister, but I’m sure she’ll be all right.”
“Well, we can hope, anyway,” Mrs. Jackson said, forcing a smile. “There’s my cab. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Bye, Mrs. Jackson,” Sarah called.
She turned at the door and smiled at the little girl. “Goodbye, Sarah. I’ll miss you. Thanks again, Merry.”
“No problem,” Meredith said as the housekeeper left.
“We can play dolls now, Merry,” Sarah said enthusiastically, repeating the nickname she’d heard for Meredith as she struggled to be put down. She then led Meredith by the hand into the living room. “Look what my daddy bought me!”
Meredith was pleasantly surprised by the array of dolls. There must have been two dozen of them, surrounding a huge, whimsical tan teddy bear who was wearing one of Blake’s Stetsons on his shaggy head.
“He’s supposed to be my daddy,” Meredith said, pointing to the bear, “since my daddy’s away. But actually he’s Mr. Friend. My old Mr. Friend got lost, so Daddy bought me a new one.”
Meredith sat down on the sofa, smiling as Sarah introduced every one of her new toys to her older friend.
“I dropped the pretty hankie you gave me inside the fence,” Sarah explained excitedly, “and a big horse almost ran over me, but my daddy saved me. He yelled at me and I cried and hid in the closet, and he came to find me. He said I mustn’t ever do it again because he liked me.” She laughed. “And then he went to the store and brought me ever so many toys.”
Meredith was feeling cold chills at the innocent story. She could imagine how Blake had felt, the fear that had gripped him. She remembered so well the day he’d had to rescue her from a wild horse. She wondered if it had brought back memo
ries for him, too.
Sarah looked up at Meredith. “My daddy has an awful temper, Merry.”
Meredith knew that already. She remembered his temper very well. A lot of things could spark it, but embarrassment, fear, or any kind of threat were sure to ignite it. She could imagine how frightened Sarah had been of him, but apparently toys could buy forgiveness. She chided herself for that thought. Blake could be unexpectedly kind. It was just that he seemed so cold and self-contained. She wondered if Nina had ever really touched him during their brief marriage, and decided that it was unlikely.
Meredith got down on the floor with Sarah, grateful, as they sprawled on the carpet, that she’d worn jeans and a yellow blouse instead of a dress. She and Sarah dressed dolls and talked for a long time before Meredith got the small girl ready for bed, tucked her in and helped her say her prayers.
“Why do I have to say prayers?” Sarah asked.
“To thank God for all the nice things He does for us.” Meredith smiled.
“Daddy talks to God all the time,” Sarah said. “Especially when I turn things over or get hurt—”
Meredith fought to keep her expression steady. “That’s not what I meant, darling. Now you settle down and we’ll talk.”
“Okay, Merry.” She moved her dark head on the pillow. “Merry, do you like me?”
Meredith looked down at the child she might have had. She smiled sadly, touching Sarah’s dark hair gently. “Yes, I like you very much, Sarah Jane Donavan,” she replied, smiling.
“I like you, too.”
Meredith bent and kissed the clean, shiny face. “Would you like me to read you a story? Have you any books?”
The small face fell. “No. Daddy forgot.”
“That’s all right, then. I can think of one or two.” She sat down on Sarah’s bed and proceeded to go through several, doing all the parts in different pitches of her voice, while Sarah giggled.
She was just in the middle of “The Three Bears,” doing Baby Bear’s voice when Sarah sat up, smiling from ear to ear and cried, “Daddy!”
Meredith felt her face burn, her heart start to pound, as he came into the room, dressed in a gray business suit, sparing her a curious glance as he handed something to Sarah.
“Something from Dallas,” he told the child. “It’s a puppet.”
“I love him, Daddy!”
It was a duck puppet, yellow and white, and Sarah wiggled it on her hand while Blake turned to Meredith with a cool smile.
“Where’s Amie?” he asked.
She told him, adding that Amie had promised to phone as soon as she knew something. “She couldn’t get Elissa, and there wasn’t anyone else, so she asked me.”
“We had lots of fun, Daddy!” Sarah told him. “Merry and me played dolls and watched TV together!”
“Thank you for taking the time,” Blake said, his whole attitude antagonistic. He’d done nothing but think about the irritating woman for days. And there she sat, looking as cool as a cucumber without a hint of warmth in her cold gray eyes, while his body had gone taut and started throbbing at the very sight of her.
Meredith got to her feet, avoiding him. “I didn’t mind. Good night, Sarah,” she said, running a nervous hand through her loosened dark hair to get it out of her face.
“Good night, Merry. Will you come back to see me again?”
“When I can, darling,” she replied absently, without noticing the reaction that endearment had on Blake. “Sleep tight.”
“Go to sleep now, young lady,” Blake told his daughter.
“But, Daddy, what about the monsters?” Sarah wailed when he started to turn out the light at the door.
He stopped and looked uncomfortable. He wasn’t about to start chasing monsters from under the bed and dragging them out of the closet in front of Meredith. Sarah loved the pretend housecleaning and he’d grown used to doing it to amuse her, but a man had to have his secrets. He cleared his throat. “When I walk Meredith to her car, okay?”
That pacified Sarah. She smiled. “Okay, Daddy.” She looked at Meredith. “He kills the monsters every night so they won’t hurt me. He’s very brave and he weighs one million pounds!”
Meredith glanced at Blake and her face went red as she tried to smother laughter. He glared at her, breaking the spell. She rushed out into the hall and kept going.
He caught up with her downstairs and walked her out onto the porch.
“I’m sorry Amie involved you,” he said curtly. “Bess would have kept Sarah.”
“Bess and Bobby were going out,” she replied. “I didn’t mind.”
“You didn’t want to come here, though, even while I was away,” he said perceptively. “You don’t care for this house very much, do you?”
“Not anymore,” she said. “It brings back some painful memories.” She moved away from him, but he followed.
“Where’s your car?” he asked, searching for it.
“I walked. It was a beautiful night and it’s only a short walk.”
He glared down at her from his superior height. In his gray suit and pearl-colored Stetson, he looked enormously tall and imposing. He never seemed to smile, she thought, searching his hard features in the light that shone from the windows onto the big, long porch.
“If you’re looking for beauty, you won’t find it,” he said, his mouth twisting into a mocking smile. “The scar only makes it worse.”
She gazed at it, the long white line that marred his lean cheek all the way from his high cheekbone to his jaw. “I remember when you got it,” she said quietly. “And how.”
His expression became grim. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know.” She sighed gently, her eyes searching over his dark face with more poignancy than she knew. “But you were always handsome to me, scar and all,” she mused, turning away as the memories came flooding back. “Good night…Blake!”
He’d whipped her around, his lean hands biting into her arms. She was wearing a sleeveless lemon yellow blouse with her jeans, and it made her skin look darker than it was. Where his fingers held her, the flesh went white from the pressure.
“I…” He eased his hold a little, although he didn’t release her. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He drew in a silent breath. “I don’t suppose you’ll ever get over the fear I caused you in the past, will you?” he added, watching her eyes widen, her body stiffen.
“It was my first intimacy,” she whispered, flushing. “And you made it…you were very rough.”
“I remember,” he replied. His pride fought him when he tried to tell her the truth, although he wanted to. He wanted to make her understand his roughness.
“As you said, it was a long time ago,” she added, pulling against his hold gently.
“Not that long. Five years.” He searched her eyes. “Meredith, surely you’ve dated men. There must have been one or two who could stir you.”
“I couldn’t trust them,” she said bitterly. “I was afraid to take a chance with anyone else.”
“Most men aren’t as rough as I am,” he replied coldly.
Her breath was sighing out like a whisper. He made her nervous, and the feel of his hands was affecting her breathing. “Most men aren’t as much a man as you are,” she breathed, closing her eyes as forgotten sensations worked down her spine and made her ache.
His pride burned with what she’d said. Did she think him masculine, handsome? Or was that all in the past, part of the love he’d killed?
He drew her closer and held her against him warmly but chastely, her legs apart from his. He didn’t want her to feel how aroused he already was.
“I’m not much gentler now than I used to be, Meredith,” he said deeply, as his head bent toward her. “But I’ll try not to frighten you this time….”
She opened her mouth to protest, but his lips met hers. They probed her soft mouth while his lean, strong hands slid up to frame her face.
She stiffened, but only for a minute. The taste of him made her
dizzy with pleasure. She liked what he was doing to her too much to protest. After a minute she relaxed, letting his mouth do what it wanted to hers.
“God, it’s sweet,” he whispered roughly, biting at her lips with more instinct than expertise. His voice was shaking and he didn’t care if she heard it. “Oh, God, it’s so sweet!”
His mouth ground into hers and his arms slid completely around her. He pulled her body up against his so that his legs touched hers, and he felt her sudden shocked tautness.
He let her move away, his eyes glittering, his breath rustling out of his throat. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t mean to let you feel how aroused I was.”
Having him mention it shocked her more than the feel of his body, but she tried not to let him see her reaction. She stepped back, touching her mouth with light fingers. Yes, it had been sweet, as she’d heard him whisper feverishly. Just as it had been five years ago in the stable, when he’d put his mouth on hers and she’d ached to have him touch her.
“I have to get back to Bess’s house,” she said unsteadily.
“Just a minute.” He took her hand and pulled her farther into the light. He held her gaze so that he could see the fear mingled with desire that lingered in her eyes, the swollen softness of her mouth.
“What are you looking for?” she asked huskily.
“You’re still afraid of me,” he said, his jaw going taut.
“I’m sorry.” She lowered her eyes to his chest, to its quick, hard rise and fall. “I can’t help it.”
“Neither can I,” he replied bitterly. He let her go, turning away. “I’m not much good at lovemaking, if you want the truth,” he said through his teeth.
That was true. He had the patience, but not the knowledge. Nina had taught him a few things, but she’d been indifferent to his touch and her response to him had always been just lukewarm. She hadn’t known he was innocent, but she had known he was inexperienced, and at the end of their relationship she’d taunted him with his lack of expertise. It was one of the things he hated remembering. Better to let Meredith think he was brutal than to have her know how green he was.