One Bride Delivered

by Jeanne Allan

  His jaw tensed. “Yes or no?”

  He sounded like a belligerent ten-year-old who knew he was m trouble and was pretending he was too tough to care.

  Cheyenne wanted to take the ends of Thomas’s tie and strangle him. She wanted to take him in her arms and soothe and comfort him and tell him it was okay, that he was okay. Neither would answer.

  Standing, she walked around the table. Thomas pushed back his chair and before he could rise, she sat on his lap. “When you ask someone to marry you, you’re supposed to kiss her. Even if it is a business merger.”

  “This isn’t the time or place.”

  “You picked it, not me.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, Cheyenne covered his mouth with hers. A split second later, two hard arms locked her to Thomas’s body. She loved the taste and feel of him and followed his lead when he deepened the kiss. The muted sounds of the café faded away. Only Thomas existed. Then, reluctantly, Cheyenne broke off their kiss.

  Thomas gave her a slow smile. “You won’t be sorry.”

  She wanted to cry, but she managed to return his smile. “No.”

  “The sooner we get married, the better.”

  Cheyenne shook her head. “You asked me yes or no. The answer is no.”

  Angry disbelief turned Thomas’s eyes to burnt charcoal. “You’re refusing? Turning me down after kissing me like that in a room full of people?”

  “Six people. In this kind of hotel guests sleep late or have breakfast in their rooms.”

  “I don’t give a damn where they eat. Why’d you kiss me if you were going to say no?” His eyes narrowed. “Was it some kind of test? To see if I turn you on.”

  Cheyenne pressed a palm against his cheek. “You know you turn me on.”

  He shoved aside her hand. “You’re crazy. You sit on my lap and kiss me in public. You tell me I turn you on, but you won’t marry me. Give me one reason why not. Never mind. I know. Love.” He spat out the word like a curse. “You don’t love me.”

  “You’re partly right. It’s about love. You think you aren’t capable of loving. That’s not true, Thomas.” Quickly she said, “Let me finish. If I marry you, you’ll never learn you can love.” Her eyes burning, Cheyenne gave him a feeble half smile. “As tempting as all those hotel rooms are, for your sake, I have to say no.”

  Thomas grabbed her around the waist and raised her to her feet. “I’m not a child to be consoled with vague assurances that it’s for my own good.”

  The word “consoled” almost changed her mind. She clamped her lips together before she could accept his proposal. She knew she was right. If she married him now, he’d never fall in love with her. Maybe he never would anyway. But he might.

  He might fall in love with someone else.

  Had her mother felt this way about Beau? Loving him, Mary Lassiter gave her husband the freedom he craved. No matter how badly it tore her up inside. Cheyenne thought of all the times she’d seen her mother gaily wave goodbye to Beau and then shut herself in her room. When Mary Lassiter came out of her room several hours later, not one member of her family said a word about her red-rimmed eyes. Once, Greeley had started to say something, but a ferocious look from Worth had silenced her. Then Worth had hugged Greeley hard.

  Cheyenne wished Worth were here to hug her now She wanted to bawl. To tell Thomas she’d marry him. She wanted to run and hide. To throw things. She wanted her mother.

  “As far as I’m concerned, our little conversation here never took place,” Thomas said abruptly.

  As if she could forget it.

  He continued curtly, “No reason to say anything to Davy. It has nothing to do with him.”

  “I thought it had everything to do with him.”

  Thomas looked over her head. “Here he comes. He’ll continue in your care until we leave.”

  “I’ll see he has a memorable time.”

  Switching his gaze back to her, Thomas said, “Memorable’s not the word I’d use.” He walked away.

  He wasn’t talking about Davy.

  Cheyenne swiveled about and watched him cross the lobby toward his nephew. Davy ran the last few steps to his uncle, an eager, expectant look on his face.

  The same look she undoubtedly wore on her face when she saw Thomas coming toward her.

  Logic flew out the window when love entered the picture. A person would take one look at Thomas Steele and Cheyenne Lassiter and know they had nothing in common. That person would be wrong.

  Thomas was wrong.

  No matter how much he denied it, Thomas cared about people. From caring to love was a tiny step. A tiny, enormously huge step. Love required trust and boldness. Thomas Steele, CEO of the Steele hotels, was renowned in the business world for his farsighted, innovative, aggressive thinking. How funny to know deep inside was a frightened little boy afraid to love. Afraid to trust. His boasting of his inability to love—he could call it honesty all he wanted—was nothing more than a wall he’d built around himself for protection. The woman who could breach that wall would be amply rewarded.

  Cheyenne intended to breach that wall.

  His proposal of marriage had tempted her almost beyond endurance, but agreeing to Thomas’s terms would not only be marrying him under false pretenses, it would cement his doubts and fears. He had to admit he loved her.

  He had to love her.

  She had no idea when she’d fallen in love with him. Maybe when he’d fallen in the river rushing to rescue Davy. The trip to New York had explained how a man who professed to be cold and unfeeling could behave in warm and caring ways.

  Experts debated the relative importance of heredity and environment. Thomas had been graced with the best of both. His Steele grandparents had passed on to him their work ethic and sense of fair dealing. Edward and the others at the various Steele hotels had raised Thomas and his brother with love and affection and caring discipline.

  Thomas’s mother and father had played such minor roles in his upbringing they barely rated courtesy titles. Unfortunately, the mere act of bringing a child into the world gave parents incredible power to hurt and wound and cripple. Thomas’s parents had abused that power. Cheyenne cared nothing about them.

  She cared about Thomas.

  He had to care about her. He had to.

  Thomas gave Davy a farewell pat on the shoulder, and Davy ran toward her.

  “Burning daylight,” Davy said, quoting Worth quoting one of his favorite John Wayne movie lines.

  Meaning it was getting late and they were wasting time.

  Getting late. Time running out.

  She had to do something to fix this situation. Soon.

  “I don’t understand why your mother invited mine to the ranch for lunch, or why my mother accepted,” Thomas said in an undertone

  Cheyenne followed the direction of his gaze. Ellen Steele dominated the conversation while her mother politely listened. Turning her head, Cheyenne gave Thomas a look of bland innocence. “Mom likes you and Davy. It’s natural she’d want to meet your mother.” The skepticism on his face deepened. Thomas might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t that stupid. He knew darned well who’d engineered the meeting.

  A meeting which wasn’t living up to Cheyenne’s expectations. The idea had seemed a good one. Demonstrate to Ellen Steele the error of her ways so she’d behave more lovingly toward Thomas so he would quit foolishly believing Steeles didn’t love.

  Cheyenne’s family was right. Cheyenne was hopelessly, stupidly naive. Ellen Steele wasn’t the kind of woman who’d think another woman was better at anything than her. Soaking up mothering tips over lunch wasn’t going to happen.

  In Cheyenne’s backup scenario, Thomas would see the contrast between their mothers and realize his behavior resembled Mary Lassiter’s a whole lot more than it resembled Ellen’s. Thomas Steele had more generosity and thoughtfulness in his little finger than his mother did in her entire body.

  Not that Ellen Steele would agree with Cheyenne.

  Ellen Steele
considered herself perfect. “Thomas,” she said, her voice carrying down the table, “is exactly like my mother-in-law. She lived and breathed hotels. People didn’t exist. David, on the other hand, took after my side of the family. Artistic, interested in everything.”

  Cheyenne felt Thomas stiffen at her side. She’d screwed up. Thomas’s mother criticized him with every other word.

  Mary Lassiter smiled warmly at Thomas and said to his mother, “Allie told me you decorated the family suite at St. Chris’s.”

  “An exhausting chore which took me forever to get right, but I’ve always been one to persevere. My husband says there’s no quit in me. I should have done the rest of the hotel. I told Thomas those people didn’t know what they were doing. Anyone could see those colors would look dull and dingy.”

  “They’re muted,” Thomas said evenly.

  “Naturally I’m wrong. According to Thomas I’m always wrong. I don’t know why I bother saying anything. Davy, we don’t pet a dog at the table. Go wash your hands.”

  “Cheyenne said your negotiations went well in New York, Thomas,” Worth said.

  “His father doesn’t think so. The employee package Thomas offered is far too generous. I don’t know how he reconciles paying them all that money when he’s so stingy, he absolutely refuses to allow me to spend a few dollars for a painting for the lobby of our San Antonio hotel.”

  “More than a few, and I don’t think a modern painting by Jackson Pollock fits with the hotel’s decorating scheme.”

  “Naturally, since it was my idea. What do I know? I’m just your mother.”

  “Speaking of dollars,” Allie said, “we raised a lot of money the other night. Before it dribbles away, we need to work out a budget and some short-and long-term goals. With your financial expertise, Thomas, maybe you have some suggestions.”

  “Thomas doesn’t believe in charity. I can’t drag him to a fund-raiser, no matter how good the cause.”

  Cheyenne thought of the program he’d initiated to hire people who needed a helping hand and the college scholarships for employees and their children. She kept her mouth shut.

  Greeley related an amusing story about how green with envy some people were when she told them she knew Thomas Steele, the famous hotelier. Cheyenne was sure her sister made up the tale.

  Fanciful stories about Thomas continued. Cheyenne could have told her family Thomas didn’t need defending, but she let them rally around him, praising him to the skies, droning on about his wonderful talents and qualities.

  “I think Thomas is the smartest man I’ve ever met,” Allie said. “Don’t you, Cheyenne?”

  “Cheyenne thinks he’s stupid.” Davy had returned.

  “You must have misunderstood her,” Mary said quickly.

  Cheyenne welcomed Davy at her side. Squeezing him affectionately, she said, “No, he didn’t. Thomas can be stupid.”

  The loud knock on the door came as Cheyenne finished brushing her teeth. A little late for visitors, particularly after a long and busy day. The hotel limo had picked up Thomas and his mother following lunch. Cheyenne and Davy rode horses, then drove back to her place where they’d eaten tacos and watched a rented video before she’d delivered him back to St. Chris’s. Allie was spending the night at Hope Valley.

  Her visitor had his back to her, but through the small security peephole, she recognized the shoulders. Tightening the sash on her bathrobe, she opened the door. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Davy?”

  “Wrong question.” Thomas stalked into the condo. “The correct question is, would a man prefer people think he’s stupid or think he’s pathetic?”

  “I don’t do very well on multiple choice questions.”

  “The correct answer is ‘C.’ Neither.” He glowered at her from the middle of her living room. “What was the point of that ridiculous charade at lunch?”

  She’d expected him to see the amusing side. She hadn’t expected anger. “You didn’t think it was funny when Greeley said any man who understood the inner workings of an elevator was a born mechanic? Or when Allie went on and on about you riding Denver Mint? She made him sound like a killer horse.”

  He didn’t crack a smile. “You didn’t answer my question. Why did you do it?”

  “I didn’t do anything except suggest to Mom she invite your mother to lunch. Mom loves having people out to the ranch. It wasn’t my idea that everyone say all that silly stuff about you. My family sometimes goes overboard when they feel—”

  “Sorry for someone?” he interrupted.

  “I wasn’t going to say that. Your mom kept sliming you and they leaped...” Her explanation faltered at his withering look.

  “To defend me. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

  “They did it because they like you.”

  “Heaven help the person your family doesn’t like,” he said in a nasty tone.

  “What a rotten thing to say.”

  “More or less rotten than what you’ve said about my mother? Never mind. I accepted long ago what my mother’s like, but I don’t appreciate other people mocking her.”

  “No one was mocking her. From what you said about her mother, I’m sure your mom can’t help what she’s like. My family acted as they did out of friendship for you. Is that concept so difficult for you to accept?”

  “You’re the one who has difficulty accepting concepts,” Thomas said. “Like the concept of reality.”

  “I accept reality. That doesn’t mean I think things are written in stone. People, situations, can change.”

  “I’ll tell you one situation which is changing. Davy and I no longer require your services.”

  Cheyenne convulsively clutched her bathrobe to her neck. “Why not?”

  “We’re returning to New York in the morning.”

  “You planned to stay three more days” This evening she’d worried three days wouldn’t be enough time. Now even those days were being taken from her. He couldn’t leave. Not now.

  “Situations change.” He threw her words back at her.

  “What changed?”

  “Mother wants to return.”

  “You and Davy don’t have to leave.”

  “He needs new clothes for school.”

  “He has a couple of weeks before his school starts.” She struggled to decipher what Thomas wasn’t saying. “Are you punishing Davy because you’re angry about lunch?”

  “I’m not punishing Davy. He’s better off separated from you.”

  “Because I told him you were stupid? I apologized for that. I knew I was wrong the minute I said it. You can’t blame Davy for repeating it. He’s only seven.”

  “It has nothing to do with that. Today, at lunch, after his grandmother sent him to wash up, when he returned to the dining room, he went straight to you.”

  “I wasn’t trying to compete with your mother, if that’s what you think.” None of this made sense to her.

  “He hkes you too much,” Thomas said flatly.

  Thomas couldn’t be jealous. “He likes you, too. In fact, he’s crazy about you. He talks about you all the time and—”

  “I don’t care about that,” Thomas said through his teeth. “He’s getting too attached to a passing stranger. The sooner I get him away from you the better. I don’t want him to start having ideas.”

  “Ideas?” she asked numbly. How could Thomas call her a passing stranger?

  “You know what kind of ideas. Thinking of you as a substitute for his mother. We know that’s never going to happen. It’s best to make a clean cut. I told him tonight he won’t be seeing you again. I said I’d tell you goodbye for him.”

  Her throat constricted painfully. “I thought, I hoped, we could stay in touch. I showed him how to use the fax machine so we could fax each other. I thought you and I...” She gestured aimlessly.

  “Davy will be busy with school.”

  “What about next summer?”

  “He’ll go to camp.”


  “And you?” Cheyenne could barely get the words out. “Will I be seeing you again?”

  “No.” He walked past her toward the door, adding in a clipped, impersonal voice, “Send your bill to McCall. He’ll see I get it.”

  She couldn’t believe it. He was walking out, just like that. “That’s it? A few days ago you asked me to marry you.”

  “I asked. You said no. The subject is closed. And now any other business between us is concluded.”

  “You never cared for me at all?” How could she have been so wrong? She’d believed what she wanted to believe.

  “I cared that you gave good service. I cared that you entertained Davy and kept him out of my hair.”

  “That’s all I was to you? A baby-sitter?”

  “I told you how it was from the beginning. If you chose to ignore my warning, that’s your problem.”

  “No, that wasn’t my problem. My problem was I thought you were human,” she said, her voice shaking with anger. And hurt. “I thought I’d begun to see the real Thomas Steele. The one hidden beneath the steel exterior, except the steel exterior is the real Thomas Steele, isn’t it? You’re not a man, you’re a machine.”

  “You saw what you wanted to see,” Thomas said coolly.

  No, she hadn’t. She couldn’t have been that wrong about him. He’d built his defensive wall higher and thicker than she’d realized. If she couldn’t breach his defenses against her, maybe she could reach him about Davy. She’d survive, but they needed each other. “Thomas, wait.” Cheyenne barred his way to the door. “Davy wants desperately to love you. Let him. Love him back. He needs you. You need him.”

  “I don’t want a lecture on raising children.” He put his hands on her shoulders to move her aside.

  Her hands clamped about his. “I’m not talking just about Davy. I’m talking about you. You can’t turn your back on love. It’s out there, waiting for you.” Love waited for him here, but he was too blind to see it.

  “If you want to believe in fairy tales, go ahead. Believe in the Easter bunny and pots of gold at the ends of rainbows. Believe in anything you damn well want to believe in. Just leave me out of it.” He thrust off her hands and reached for the knob.