by Janet Dailey
Except to glance at the candy, Tadd didn't hesitate. "The horses."
Mickey tossed him the chocolate bar. "Spoken like a true horseman! Your great-granddaddy would have been proud to hear you say that."
Tadd stared at the candy. "Aren't you going to take me to see the horses?"
"Of course, lad." Mickey reassured him with a wink. "But you'll be needin' some energy for the walk, won't you?"
"You mean I can have both?" Tadd wanted to be sure before he tore off the paper wrapping around the bar.
"Isn't that what I just said?" Mick teased, and moved toward the back door. "Come along, lad. And don't you be worrying about him, Valerie. I'll watch over him the same as I watched over you."
Valerie had enjoyed watching Mickey work his Irish charm on her son. It wasn't until the door shut that she realized she had been left alone in the kitchen with Judd. What was keeping Clara, she wondered desperately, but was determined not to lose her composure.
"Mickey has always had a way with children," she said into the silence, not risking a glance at Judd as she spooned the coffee grounds into the percolator basket.
"That's because there's a little bit of truth in the fact that he's never grown up." Judd had moved closer, Valerie was fully aware of his disconcerting gaze watching her. He leaned a hip against the counter few feet from where she worked and entered her line of vision. "I knew you were coming," he said with studied quietness.
She glanced up, the implication of his words jolting through her. Judd had meant that he had known she was coming the same way he had always known when she would be at their meeting place, and she didn't want to know that.
Deliberately she pretended she was unaware of a hidden meaning in his comment. "Word gets around fast, doesn't it? I did tell the hospital when they called that I'd be coming as soon as I could. I suppose everyone in the area knows it by now." She put the lid on the coffeepot and plugged the cord into a socket. Out the kitchen window she could see Tadd skipping alongside Mickey on their way to the barns. "I suppose you're finally married and have a family of your own now." She turned away, trying not to picture Judd in the arms of some beautiful debutante.
"No, to both of those." An aloofness had entered his chiseled features when she glanced at him. "You've matured into a beautiful woman, Valerie." It was a statement, flatly issued, yet with the power to stir her senses as only Judd could.
"Thank you." She tried to accept his words as merely a compliment, but she didn't know how successful she had been.
"I'm sorry your husband wasn't able to accompany you. I would have liked to meet him," he said.
"My husband? Who told you I was married?" Except for startled surprise, there was little expression in her face.
"Your grandfather, of course." He tilted his head to one side, black hair gleaming in a shaft of sunlight.
Valerie realized that she should have guessed her grandfather would come up with a story like that in order to claim his great-grandson without feeling shame.
"That was rather a foolish question for me to ask, wasn't it?" she commented dryly.
Judd didn't make any comment to that. "I suppose he wasn't able to get time off from his job."
Valerie was toying with the idea of revealing her grandfather's lie and correcting Judd's impression that she wasn't married. When she had decided, shortly after Tadd was born, to keep him rather than give him up for adoption, she had accepted the fact that she would have to live with the illegitimacy of his birth, and refused to hide behind a phony wedding ring.
Before she could tell Judd that she had no husband and never did, Clara walked into the kitchen. She glanced from Valerie to Judd and back to Valerie.
"Where's Tadd?" she asked.
"Mickey took him out to see the horses," Valerie explained.
"Is the coffee done?" Clara sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, making it clear that she wasn't budging. "Will you be staying for coffee, Mr. Prescott?" Behind the question was a challenge to explain the reason he was still here.
"No, I don't believe so." Amusement glinted in his green eyes at the belligerently protective attitude of the older woman. His attention returned to Valerie. "The funeral home will be open from six until eight this evening so your grandfather's friends can come to pay their respects. You're welcome to ride in with me if you wish."
"It's kind of you to offer, but we'll find our own way." Valerie refused in the politest of tones.
He inclined his head in silent acceptance of her decision. Bidding them both an impersonal goodbye, Judd left. Neither woman spoke until they heard the roar of a powerful engine starting up at the front of the house.
"Well?" Clara prompted.
"Well, what?" Valerie was deliberately obtuse.
"Well, what did he have to say?" Clara demanded in gruffly autocratic tones.
"Nothing, really, if you mean any reference to our former…relationship." Valerie removed two cups from the cabinet above the stove.
"Did he say anything to you about Tadd?"
"No. Judd thinks I'm married. It's a story granddad cooked up."
"Did you tell him differently?" Clara wanted to know, an eyebrow lifting.
"I started to when you walked in," admitted Valerie, and shrugged. "I suppose it's just as well I didn't. Whether I'm supposedly married or single, it doesn't change anything."
"Are you going to tell him that Tadd is his son?"
"If he asks me, I will. What difference does it make?" Valerie said diffidently. "He has no legal right to Tadd—I've seen to that. There isn't anything he could do if he wanted to, which I doubt."
"But he still gets to you, doesn't he?" Clara's voice was understanding and vaguely sad.
"Yes," Valerie sighed. "After all this time, I'm still not immune to him. He's a rotten, insensitive brute, but he would only have to hold me to make me forget that."
"Don't let him hurt you again, honey." It was almost a plea.
Shaking the honey-dark mane of her hair, Valerie curved her mouth into a weak smile. "I'm not going to give him the chance!"
| Go to Table of Contents |
Chapter Three
AT A QUARTER PAST SIX that evening Valerie slowed the car to park it in front of the funeral home of the small Maryland community. A few cars were already in the lot.
"Is this where we're going?" Tadd was draped half in the front seat and half in the back.
"Yes." Valerie glanced at him briefly. His little bow tie was already askew and his shirt was coming loose from the waistband of his trousers. "Clara, would you mind tucking his shirt in and straightening his tie?"
"Hold still?" Clara ordered when the boy tried to squirm away. "I don't know if it's a good idea to bring him along."
"He's old enough to understand what's going on," Valerie replied calmly.
"Are we going to a funeral?" Tadd asked.
"No, granddad's funeral is tomorrow," she answered patiently.
"What's a funeral?" At his question, Clara sniffed, a sound that indicated Valerie was wrong to believe Tadd knew what was going on.
"A funeral is when a person dies and all his friends and family come to say goodbye to him. Do you remember when your turtle died? We put him in a box, buried him in the ground and asked God to take care of him for you because you couldn't."
"Is that a funeral?" Tadd was plainly fascinated by the discovery.
"Yes, that's a funeral." Valerie parked the car next to the curb. "Let's go inside. Remember, Tadd, you promised me you'd be good."
"I will." He tossed off the agreement as he eagerly climbed out of the car.
The hushed atmosphere inside temporarily impressed Tadd. He stood quietly at her side, holding her hand while Valerie spoke to the funeral director. Several of her grandfather's friends had already arrived. Some Valerie remembered; others she didn't.
Tadd had little interest in the condolences the strangers offered. He was too busy looking around him in awed silence. He mutely nodded at Judd when the ol
der man arrived and came over to speak to him and Valerie.
Valerie realized she was clenching her jaw in tension and tried to relax. "Granddad was acquainted with just about everybody in the area, wasn't he?" she remarked.
"Everyone didn't agree with his strict code, but they respected him," Judd stated. "Have you had a chance to go up front?"
Valerie glanced towards the satin-lined casket. "No. Each time I started, someone stopped to offer their sympathies."
"Come on." His arm curved impersonally behind her to rest his hand on the small of her back.
The heat of his touch seemed to send a fire racing up her spine. She was powerless to resist his guidance. Her fingers curled tightly around Tadd's small hand, bringing him along with her.
At the open casket Judd stopped, and Valerie looked on her grandfather's image for the first time in seven years. He looked old and tired lying there, in need of the rest he had obtained. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and how sorry she was for hurting him, but she had said both many times in the letters she had written him, so she guessed he knew.
Tadd was trying to peer inside. "Mom, I can't see," he whispered loudly in irritation.
Bending down, Valerie lifted him up. His arm rested on her shoulder, his face close to her own. "That's your great-grandfather." She felt the need to tell him something.
"Gee?' Tadd breathed, and turned a questioning scowl on her. "How come we didn't bury Fred in a box like that?" he asked loudly.
A smile played at the edges of her mouth. His nonchalance at death seemed somehow right. She wasn't going to scold him for being disrespectful.
"We couldn't find one that small," she answered, and it satisfied him.
As they turned to walk back to where the other mourners were talking, Judd gave her a questioning look, his eyes cool and distant. "Who's Fred?"
"A pet turtle," she admitted, unable to keep from giving him a faint smile.
"I should have guessed," he murmured dryly, shared amusement glittering briefly in his look.
More friends of the family arrived. Judd made no attempt to remain at her side as Valerie greeted them. Almost immediately he drifted to one side, although Valerie was aware that he was never very far away from her.
It wasn't long before the newness of Tadd's surroundings wore off. He became increasingly restless and impatient with the subdued conversations. He fidgeted in the folding chair beside Valerie's and began violently swinging his feet back and forth to kick at his chair rung. The clatter of his shoes against the metal was loud, like a galloping horse.
"Don't do that, Tadd," Valerie told him quietly, putting a hand on his knee to end the motion.
He flashed her a defiant look that said "I want to" and continued swinging his feet without letup.
"Stop it, Tadd," she repeated.
"No!" he retorted in open belligerence, and found himself looking into a pair of cold green eyes that wouldn't put up with such rebellion.
"Do as your mother tells you, Tadd," Judd warned, "or you'll find yourself sitting alone in your mother's car."
Tadd pushed his mutinous face close to Judd's. "Good." Olive green eyes glared into a brilliant jade green pair. "I want to sit in the car," Tadd declared. "I don't want to stay here in this dumb old place."
"Very well." Judd straightened, taking one of Tadd's hands and pulling him from the chair.
"No, wait." Valerie rushed out the halting words.
"Tadd is tired and irritable after that long trip," she explained to excuse her son's behavior, and glanced anxiously at Clara. "Maybe you'd better take him back and put him to bed, Clara." She opened her bag and took out the car keys. "Here."
"And how will you get back?" her friend challenged in a meaningful voice.
It didn't seem proper to Valerie to leave yet. Mickey Flanners was standing only a few feet away, chatting with a horse trainer.
"Mickey?" When he turned, Valerie asked, "Is it all right if I ride back to the farm with you?"
For an instant she thought Mickey glanced at Judd before answering, but she decided she had been mistaken. "Sure," he agreed immediately.
Judd released Tadd's hand as Clara walked over to take him with her. Tadd glanced at Valerie. "I'll be there soon," she promised.
It was more than an hour later when Mickey asked if she was ready to leave. Valerie agreed and was required to say no more as Mickey began relating a steady stream of racehorse gossip while they walked out of the funeral home. Only one car was parked in the area that Mickey was heading toward, and Judd was behind the wheel.
"Where are you parked?" Valerie interrupted Mickey with the question.
"I thought you knew." His startled glance was strictly innocent of deception. "I rode in with Judd."
"No, I wasn't aware of that," There was a hint of rimness in her voice, but she didn't protest.
Mickey opened the front door on the passenger side for her. She had barely slid in when he was asking her to move over. She found herself sitting in the middle, pressed close to Judd. For such a small man, Mickey Flanners seemed to take up a lot of room.
Judd appeared indifferent to the way her shoulder kept brushing against his as he reversed the car into the street. It was impossible to avoid the accidental contact with him unless she hunched her shoulders forward and held herself as stiffly as an old woman, and she refused to do that.
The expensive scent of male cologne filled her lungs and interfered with her breathing. Mickey continued his nonstop banter, which was a source of relief to Valerie, for without it she was certain Judd would have been able to hear the erratic pounding of her heart.
When Judd had to swerve the car to avoid a pothole, Valerie was thrown against him. Her hand clutched at the nearest solid object to regain her balance. It turned out to be his thigh. His muscles contracted into living steel beneath her hand. She heard him sharply inhale a curse and jerked her hand away as if she had suddenly been burned.
She recovered enough of her poise to offer a cool, "I'm sorry."
His bland, "That's quite all right," made her wonder if she had only imagined that he had been disturbed by her unconsciously intimate touch.
Her grandfather's house was a welcome sight when Judd slowed the car to a stop in front of it. Mickey didn't immediately climb out. Instead he leaned forward to take a look at Judd.
"There's some of Eli's good brandy in the house. Will you come in, Judd, and we'll have one last drink to old Eli?" A second after he had issued the invitation he glanced at Valerie. "That is, if you don't mind. After all, it is your grandfather's house and his brandy."
"It's as much your house as it is mine," Valerie insisted. What else could she say? Mickey had worked for her grandfather long before she was born: His years' of loyalty far outweighed her less than exemplary relationship with her grandfather, regardless of the blood ties.
"In that case, will you come in for a little while, Judd?" Mickey repeated his invitation.
There was an instant's hesitation from Judd. Valerie felt his gaze skim her profile, but she pretended obliviousness to the look. She hadn't seconded the invitation because she didn't want to give him the impression that she desired his company. Neither did she seek to avoid it because she didn't want him to know he still exerted a powerful attraction over her.
"Thank you, Mick, I'd like that," he agreed finally. "But I'll only be able to stay a little while. I've got a sick colt to check on."
"Oh? What's wrong with it?" Mick opened his car door and stepped out.
As Valerie partially turned to slide out the passenger side, the skirt of her grape-colored dress failed to move with her, exposing a sheer nylon-covered thigh and knee. She reached hastily to pull the skirt down, but Judd's hand was there to do it for her. In the confusion of his touch against her virtually bare leg, Valerie didn't hear his explanation of the colt's problem. She managed to push his hand away, an action that was at odds with her sensual reaction.
The warmth that was in her cheeks
when she stepped out of the car wasn't visible in the fading sunset of the summer evening. It was a languid night, heavily scented with the smell of horses and hay and a sprinkling of roses that grew next to the house.
Mickey waited for Judd to continue his discussion of homes and their ailments. Valerie started immediately toward the house, not rushing her pace as one would in fleeing, although that was what she wanted to do. In consequence, Judd was there to reach around her and open the porch door.
Hearing them return, Clara appeared from the living room. She had already changed into her nightgown, its hem peeping out from the folds of her quilted robe. A pair of furry slippers covered her feet. At the sight of the two men following Valerie inside, Clara stopped and scowled. Only Valerie, who knew her, was aware it was a self-conscious and defensive expression for being caught in that state of dress.
"What are you staring at?" Clara demanded of Mickey in her most rasping and abrasive voice. "Haven't you ever seen a woman in a bathrobe before?"
"Not in a good many years." Mickey recovered from his initial shock, his cheeks dimpling with mischief. "I'd forgotten what a tempting sight it could be."
"Watch your tongue?' Clara snapped, reddening under his sweeping look.
Hiding a grin, Mickey turned aside from the bristling woman, "I'll get some glasses from the kitchen. Why don't you go on into Eli's office, Judd? I'll be along directly."
"Don't rush on my account," Judd replied.
Valerie felt his glance swing to her when Mickey left the room, but she didn't volunteer to show him to her grandfather's office/study. Instead she walked into the living room to speak to Clara, denying any interest in where he went or when.
"Is Tadd asleep?" she asked Clara.
"Finally, after throwing a holy fit to see the horses again," was the gruff response.
"I'll go and look in on him." Her sensitive radar knew the instant Judd turned and walked toward the study.
"Leave him be for now," Clara insisted. "You might wake him, and I don't care to hear him whining again about those horses." She shot a look in the direction Judd had taken and whispered angrily, "You could have warned me you'd be inviting them in when you got back. I wouldn't have been traipsing around the place in my robe if I'd known."