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One Night, Two Heirs

Page 13

by Maureen Child


  “Well,” she said, when she couldn’t bear the quiet any longer. “That put an end to the conversation, didn’t it?”

  “Sadie…”

  She read regret in his eyes and that tore at her. She didn’t want his pity. She wanted his love and, clearly, she wasn’t going to get it. Shaking her head, she stepped into her underwear then snatched up her jeans. “I have to go.”

  “Sadie, I care for you,” he said tightly. He reached for her, then let his hand drop before he actually touched her. “More than I have for anyone in my life. Isn’t that enough?”

  She wished it could be. More than anything, she’d love to hold him and have him lead her back to bed. To wake up every morning with his arms wrapped around her. To build the family she had always dreamed of. Yes, she wished caring could be enough. But it wasn’t.

  “No,” she said, flinging her hair back out of her face to look at him. “It’s not. I deserve more, Rick. We deserve more. We deserve love.”

  He pushed one hand across the top of his head and bit back a curse. “How do you even know what love is?”

  She smiled sadly. “You know it when you feel it.”

  “Well, that’s clear as mud.”

  Now it was her turn to reach for him. She cupped his cheek in her palm. “I love you, Rick. Maybe I always have.”

  He caught her hand and held it to his face. “Then—”

  “No, one person in love isn’t a marriage,” she said, “it’s a recipe for disaster. Remember, I was married to a man who didn’t love me. I can’t do that again.”

  “I’m not him.”

  “No, you’re really not,” she agreed. “You’re a better man than he ever was. But the next time I get married, it will be because I’ve found someone who loves me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “Yeah,” she insisted, “I do.”

  He released her hand and shook his head. “No. You throw the word love around, but you don’t know. You don’t know the pain it brings…what havoc it can cause. Well, I do. I saw what love can do to a man while I was deployed.”

  Sadie was watching him and saw his features tighten and his eyes fill with shadows. The old pain and secrets she had once glimpsed in those depths were shining there, glittering like diamonds. Every instinct she had urged her to comfort him, but she didn’t. Instead, she waited to hear him out. To find out what exactly was at the bottom of his refusal to give and receive love.

  He rubbed his jaw as if trying to hold his words in. He shifted his gaze to the wide window and the night beyond as if he couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. Several long moments passed and Sadie actually saw him regain control.

  His shoulders squared, his chin lifted and his eyes narrowed. She wondered if he was ever going to explain, or if he was simply going to let what was between them end without ceremony or reason.

  Finally, though, she had her answer when he turned his head toward her. “Love tears people up, Sadie. It makes them miserable. It ruins lives,” he said.

  It didn’t make any sense, but she could see that he believed what he was saying, so her heart ached. “How can you think that?”

  “One of my best friends, Jeff, he died during my last tour.” He turned his face back to the window and his reflection stared back at him. “He died saving my life and you know what he said with his last breath? ‘Tell Lisa I’m sorry. Tell her I love her.’”

  Tears filled her eyes and spilled unheeded down her cheeks. Pity swamped her—for Rick, Jeff and mostly, the much-loved Lisa. Yet even knowing what Lisa had lost, Sadie envied her. Though she had lost the man she loved, she had also been truly loved by him. And that was a gift too few people would ever realize.

  She looked into the gleaming black surface of the night-shrouded windowpane and met his stony stare. “I’m sorry, Rick. I really am. But I don’t understand. What’s so horrible about your friend’s last words? His love for his wife was beautiful.”

  “Beautiful.” A short, harsh laugh scraped from his throat. “He died in torment because he knew he was leaving Lisa alone. He knew loving her wouldn’t be enough and his death was going to kill her.”

  “Rick…”

  He turned, grabbed his own jeans and drew them on with jerky movements. Then he flashed her a hard look. “If he hadn’t loved someone, he could have died in peace. He wouldn’t have been panic-stricken trying to tell me what he needed Lisa to know. He—” His voice broke off and he shook his head again, then folded his arms across his chest in a classic pose of defensiveness.

  Her heart was breaking—for Rick, and for the Jeff she would never meet. But she had to try to get past this. To find a way to make him see that love wasn’t a curse, it was a rare gift.

  “And you think he regretted loving his wife?”

  “I’m betting he regretted it on that day. In that dusty street, in those last few minutes. Yeah.” He stalked across the room to the cold fireplace. Fisting his hands on the old oak mantle, he stared into the empty hearth. “Yeah. I think he did regret it. But it was too late. For him. And for Lisa.”

  “So to save yourself ever feeling that helpless kind of pain, you’ll just never love anyone?”

  He didn’t lift his gaze, but he nodded. “That’s right.”

  “What about the girls?” She walked to his side and waited for him to look at her before adding, “You love them.”

  His mouth curved in a bitter smile. “That’s different and you know it.”

  “I know you love them, so you’re risking the same kind of misery you said your friend experienced. Wanting to be there for them and not being able to. Wanting to tell them everything you’re feeling and failing at that, too.” She laid one hand on his shoulder and felt him flinch at her touch. “So I ask you, would it be better to never love them at all?”

  He turned his gaze from hers and focused again on the empty hearth and the battered old iron grate. “You don’t understand.”

  “No,” she said softly, “I don’t. I’ll never understand turning your back on love because you’re afraid of what might happen.”

  His head snapped up at her choice of the word afraid and she knew she’d struck a nerve. “It isn’t fear, Sadie. It’s a rational decision—and mine to make.”

  There was a coolness in his eyes now. A distance she’d never seen there before and it saddened her more than she could say. But at the same time, there was a very slender ribbon of hope remaining. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her. He was refusing to love her. And that she could fight against. All she had to do was make him change that stubborn mind of his.

  Now that she knew what was at the root of his refusal to love, she knew she’d be able to get through to him eventually. But for right now, there was nothing more she could do.

  Suddenly she was more tired than she’d ever been. “I’m going home now, Rick. I’ll be back in the morning to pick up the girls.”

  “Fine,” he murmured.

  A little stung that he was more than willing to let her leave, Sadie walked out of the room, but couldn’t help pausing on the threshold to look back at him. Still hunched over the fireplace, he looked more alone than she’d ever seen him.

  Sadie’s heart broke a little further. She hated to leave him like this, but maybe it was a good thing. Maybe he’d take out his memories and examine them more closely. If he did, Sadie thought he would discover that, yes, his friend Jeff had lost a lot on that last day—but in loving his wife, he had shown Rick what was really important.

  Rick had once told her that he never gave up. Well, she wouldn’t give up on him, either. If there was a way to crash past the defenses he had built up around his heart, she told herself as she left the room to walk down the dimly lit hall, she would find it.

  Rick heard her leave, and his every instinct urged him to go after her. To never let her walk away. He needed her, damn it. He was empty without her.

  And in the silent turmoil of his own mind, he heard Jeff’s voice again. Te
ll Lisa I love her.

  Eleven

  Two days later, the Founder’s Day dinner and dance at the Texas Cattleman’s Club was a success.

  That fact would no doubt drive Brad crazy, Sadie thought, but she couldn’t help feeling proud. She and Abby and the other women had really worked hard to shake things up a little this year.

  There were new decorations—blue-and-gold crepe paper and matching balloons hanging from the ceiling. There were pictures of past parties—blown up poster size—decorating the walls and instead of a boring, sit-down meal, there were two buffet tables practically groaning with delectable choices.

  Waiters from the club stood behind the tables making sure the trays were kept full and the steamers were hot. People were laughing, talking, moving around the room and visiting—instead of being trapped at their linen-covered tables as in previous years.

  Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time. Everyone who wasn’t her. Idly, she smoothed one hand down the front of her crimson, floor-length gown. She’d looked all over until she had found the perfect dress for tonight—because she had wanted to knock Rick off his feet.

  The minute she saw this dress, she’d known it was the one. It molded to her body like a second skin. The neckline was cut deeply enough to display just the right amount of her cleavage and in the back, the fabric swept down to display her entire spine, right down to the top of her behind.

  She felt sexy. Beautiful.

  And lonely, she thought. Don’t forget lonely.

  Abby was across the room, easy to spot with her long, dark red hair done on top of her head to complement the emerald-green Grecian style gown she wore. Not far from Abby, Brad was holding court with a few of his best friends and judging from her brother’s expression, he was probably campaigning again for club president.

  She spotted her father in a corner talking to one of the older club members, and Sadie knew that Robert Price was no doubt trying to drum up votes for his son.

  After all, Brad wasn’t the disappointment, she was.

  Walking to the bar, Sadie caught snatches of conversation as she went.

  “I hear that Bradford Price is going to vote to keep the club just the way it is.”

  “A little change never hurt anybody.”

  “I don’t care for change myself, but I do admit that Abby Langley did a fine job with the party.”

  “Oh, my, look at Sadie Price…”

  Her steps faltered a little, just long enough for her to hear the end of that sentence.

  “…She’s been keeping company with Rick Pruitt. You know…the father of those two little girls? Poor mites.”

  “If he’s their father, why doesn’t he marry their mother for pity’s sake?”

  Good question, Sadie thought and lifted her chin a bit higher as she wended her way through the meandering crowd. The curse of a small town, she told herself, was that absolutely everyone knew your business. The blessing of a small town? Everybody knew your business. The same people who gossiped and spread rumors were also the first ones to show up when there was a call for help.

  She knew what she would be letting herself in for in moving back home. And she was prepared for it. All she needed was a little vodka to help her over tonight’s bumps in the road.

  People carrying loaded plates headed for the tables and waiters drifted through the crowd with bottles of champagne to refill empty glasses. But Sadie wasn’t in the mood for a celebratory drink. All she wanted was a little liquor, then she’d get something to eat, say hello to a few people and call it an early night.

  If Rick wasn’t here, there was no point in her staying.

  While she waited at the bar, she watched as a dozen or so couples on the dance floor swayed and spun to the music pouring through the speakers. It was an old song. One of her father’s favorites. Frank Sinatra singing about a summer wind.

  Unconsciously, she began to sway in time with the music only to jolt to a stop when a voice from behind her spoke up.

  “Can I have this dance?”

  Her heart did a fast gallop and her mouth went dry as dust. Sadie turned around slowly and looked up into the warm brown eyes she had most hoped to see that night.

  “Rick.” He wore his dress blues uniform for the formal occasion and Sadie thought he had never looked more handsome. More…imposing.

  Torn between excitement and dread, Sadie didn’t know what to think of the way he was looking at her—as if he could devour her with the power of his stare alone.

  She hadn’t seen him in two days. Not since she’d left him alone in his room in the middle of the night. Her stomach had been in perpetual knots since then and her mind was constantly churning, dragging up one impossible scenario after another.

  He loved her, he didn’t love her; they married, she died a lonely spinster and he a bitter old man.

  Even her normally even-tempered daughters seemed to sense that their mommy was tangled up in her own cascading emotions. As if in sympathy, Wendy and Gail had both been whiny and irritable.

  And asking for their daddy.

  She knew how they felt because Sadie wanted him too. Now, here he was. And a more gorgeous man she had never seen. The infuriating hardhead.

  “Dance with me, Sadie,” he said softly, taking her hand in both of his.

  She nodded and allowed him to tug her onto the dance floor. Sadie knew that most of the people in the place were watching them, hoping for more fuel for the gossip train. But she didn’t care. All she cared about now was the feel of his arm sliding around her. The touch of his warm hand on the small of her back. The feel of her fingers caught in his firm but gentle grip.

  He moved into the dance, steering them onto the middle of the floor and as the music swelled around them, Sadie felt the pain of the last couple of days fall away.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said, voice just loud enough for her to hear.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” She looked up into his eyes and realized that the cool indifference that had so cut at her the other night was gone.

  What did that mean?

  “You stayed away on purpose, didn’t you?” he asked, spinning her into a tight turn.

  “No, I—”

  He smiled. “It’s okay, Sadie. Probably a good thing you did. Gave me time to think. And there was a lot to think about.”

  Her heart was stuttering in her chest and the pit of her stomach swarmed with what felt like giant bats. “Come to any conclusions?”

  “A few.” The song ended and another slow, dreamy romantic tune began.

  Rick didn’t miss a beat. He kept dancing, holding her even closer as the couples around them danced and laughed.

  “Care to tell me what they were?” she asked, silently congratulating herself on being so poised—when what she wanted to do was grab him and kiss him and demand that he love her as much as she loved him.

  “I’m getting to it,” he said with a half smile that sent shivers of appreciation over her skin.

  Glancing across the clubhouse briefly, he turned his gaze back to her. “You remember I once told you that life was all about change?”

  “Yes…”

  “Well, something occurred to me after you left the other night.”

  “What?”

  “That some change just isn’t worth it.”

  Her heart fell, but then he started talking again.

  “Like you leaving me for instance,” he said, gaze fixed firmly on hers. “Like me losing the chance to be with you. That’s the kind of change that could kill a man.”

  A ping of guilt came and went in the space of a heartbeat. “I couldn’t stay, Rick—”

  “I know.” He interrupted her, brought her close for a brief, hard hug, then bent his head to hers. “I mean, I understand. Sadie, I want you to know you mean more to me than anything else in this world.”

  Again, her heartbeat quickened. Honestly, she thought wildly, the ups and downs of this conversation were making her a nervous wreck.

&nbs
p; “I’m glad, Rick. But—”

  “Not finished,” he said, another half smile curving his mouth into a temptation.

  “Okay…”

  Quiet conversations rippled across the crowded room. The music went on, sliding into one romantic tune after another. The subtle clatter of plates and glasses was nothing more than a vague distraction.

  “See,” he continued, staring down into her eyes, “I had a meeting with someone yesterday.”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. What does, is that I realized something important.”

  Oh, God… If she got her hopes up now only to see them shattered, Sadie thought it might just destroy her. So she tried not to read anything into the gleam in his eyes. But she couldn’t keep from wishing for what she most wanted.

  “You were right,” he told her and this time when the music ended, he steered her off the dance floor and into a shadowed corner of the room.

  “Three words every woman loves to hear,” she said, bracing her back against the cool, plastered wall.

  “I’ve got three more for you.”

  She inhaled sharply and felt a warning sting of tears in her eyes. Looking up into his eyes, she saw warmth, she saw passion, and she saw…

  “I love you.”

  Sadie clapped one hand over her mouth to keep from—what? Shrieking? Gasping?

  He pulled her hand free, kissed the palm, then drew her into his arms, pressing her entire length to him. “Ah, God, Sadie. I was an idiot.”

  She nodded, smiling through the tears that brimmed in her eyes and trembled on her lashes.

  “I’m over it,” he said, smiling as he reached into his jacket pocket. Pulling out that velvet jeweler’s box, he opened the lid and showed her the diamond. “So, Sadie Price, will you marry me now?”

  “Try to stop me,” she said and held out her hand for him to slide that platinum and diamond ring onto her fourth finger.

 

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