by Tina Leonard
The salesman pounded his fist against the car frame. “You’ve come to the right place, Daphne. Your uncle Bob’ll fix you right up with the papers if you want her. You ain’t gonna get a better price on a car like this anywhere.”
Alex groaned.
“It’s perfect, Uncle Bob,” Daphne breathed. “Don’t you think so, Alex? There’s enough room to fold a playpen in the back if we need to go some where, and for anything else the babies need.”
It was so far from perfect that Alex had to grind his teeth to refrain from saying so. Nor was he certain Uncle Bob was the most reputable man he’d ever seen, even for a used-car salesman.
“Not a scratch on her,” Uncle Bob said cheerfully. “And not a mile over fifty thousand.”
Since the front fender was dented in two places, Alex thought they could safely doubt the veracity of Uncle Bob’s word. But he didn’t think the Chevy was old enough to have its odometer rolled back. Ostensibly to check the power windows, he pushed a button and put a shield between Daphne and Uncle Bob.
“Honey, maybe we should look at new Suburbans, just for the sake of comparison,” he suggested gamely.
“Oh.” Daphne’s smile slid off her face. “If you think that would be best.” But it was clear she was crushed.
Outside, Alexander Senior leaned on his cane as he made a slow circle of the buslike vehicle. Alex’s face burned with some thing he identified as humiliation. With a kingly gesture, his father motioned for Uncle Bob to lift the hood of the car.
“I’d best help Mr. Banning,” Sinclair said, getting out.
Nelly and Danita sat silently, each maneuvering a baby. Alex sighed again, closing his eyes. Was it any great revelation that his wife would choose to purchase some thing to help out a family member? Of course not. Her transportation choice wasn’t a big mystery, either. Daphne was no Eliza Doolittle, though perhaps that was how he’d inadvertently treated her by bringing home the limo, good intentions aside. His wife had a couple of advanced degrees in child education and psychology. She had worked her way through college, soaking up the fine arts to the point that she knew a couple of different foreign languages and the names of famous artists and writers to whom he’d only paid cursory attention. She had been a sought-after school teacher, loved by parents and children alike for her gentle ness and creative approach to teaching. In her spare time, she fashioned beautiful stained-glass artwork, which she sold in boutiques and craft shows. His wife was artsy and unique. He had fallen in love with that aspect of her personality, cherishing her for the fresh air she brought into his rather re pressed life.
He should have considered Daphne before he’d bought, instead of basing his decision on what he was used to.
The hood slammed down. His father shrugged at him through the front window, signifying that neither Sinclair nor he saw anything outrageously wrong with the vehicle. Obviously, he didn’t see anything good about it, either.
Alex gave a shrug of his own. The truth was, he’d buy a fleet of clunkers from shrew dies named Uncle Bob if it would make Daphne happy. “You’re right. It’s perfect. Let’s drive her home.”
“Alex!” Daphne leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth. He savored the hero-of-the-moment feeling her lips on his brought him until Uncle Bob rapped on the window. They pulled away from each other like split hairs as Daphne slid the window down.
“Can I take that to mean I should draw up the papers?” Uncle Bob asked, beaming.
“Yes,” Alex replied.
“You’re a good girl, Daph,” Bob said, leaning in the window to kiss her. “You never forget about your old uncle.”
No doubt he was very glad of the extra few thousand dollars he was going to pocket as a result of his niece’s purchase, Alex thought sourly as he tugged the rather loose visor down to examine the filmy mirror.
But he’d seen Daphne’s face shining with happiness, and as he caught the approving smiles Nelly and Danita wore in the grimy reflection, Alex knew he’d made the right decision.
His father stumped off toward his Mercedes, Sinclair in tow, without saying a word.
“I HAVEN’T given Daphne a present yet,” Alexander Banning told Sinclair when they returned home.
The faithful family retainer gently helped his worn-out employer into a chair by the window in his bedroom. “I think she has everything she needs, sir,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you rest right now?”
“I’ve got to get her some thing!” Alexander roared. “How can I not get the woman my son married a gift for her babies? Do you think I like her looking at me like I’m a troll who lives upstairs and may eat her babies the next time I dine?”
“No, sir. Although I believe you’re more worried about what Miss Daphne thinks of you than she worries about what you think of her.”
“Quit blathering, Sinclair. You’re putting static in my hearing aid.”
“Yes, sir.” Sinclair sighed. “Alex gave her your wife’s pearls, but I don’t think she’s, uh, responded to his gift yet. Er, very well, actually.”
Alexander over looked his employee’s bumbling. Sinclair tried too hard, in his opinion. “Of course she didn’t receive them with shouts of joy. She’s been gone for months, the flighty girl. Why would she care about pearls when there’s some thing else she wants?”
“Oh, sir, I wouldn’t suspect Miss Daphne of being a fortune hunter,” Sinclair hurried to object.
“Of course she’s not! Didn’t two hours on a hot, dirty, used-car parking lot with a shift less member of her family teach you anything?” Alexander shot him a disgruntled frown.
“Um, perhaps not what it should have,” Sinclair admitted.
“Ever the politician,” Alexander grumbled. “Daphne’s not interested in money or position, which makes this damn thing so tricky.” He pulled at his chin thoughtfully, staring out the window. “But she is fiercely loyal, which might very well benefit us in the long run.”
“Sir?”
“It behooves us to make certain Alex and Daphne stay together for the sake of future sons and for the sake of keeping Green Forks as it is.”
Sinclair wrung his hands. “Mr. Banning, if I may say so, perhaps you shouldn’t focus on boy heirs so much.”
Alexander waved him off. “Of course I should. Oh, I know I seem selfish to you, always harping about boys. But I have to, damn it!” he thundered. “I’ve spent all morning with my solicitor—oh, never mind,” he interrupted himself. “We’ve got to find a way to help my son’s marriage along. How are we going to convince Daphne to move the babies out of her quarters so my son can move in and get to work on baby making? When she’s re covered from this birth, of course,” he added considerately.
Sinclair’s face took on a rosy shade, a color Alexander had never seen his unflappable employee wear before.
“Sir,” Sinclair whispered, “Nelly tells me that Miss Daphne can’t, er, uh—”
“Spit it out, Sinclair! You’re too old to develop a speech impediment! You sound like a toddler.”
“Yes, sir.” Sinclair smoothed his gray hair away from his brow nervously. “Nelly says Miss Daphne can’t bear any more children.”
“What?” Alexander leaned closer, his heart taking on an abnormal, almost painful rhythm.
“She can’t, sir,” Sinclair whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you positive?”
“The odds do not appear to be in her favor, short of a miracle.”
Alexander slowly leaned back and stared out the window, seeing the rolling hills of the land he loved and the steers grazing contentedly. It was a com fort ably breezy, sun-filled day, yet shock and disappointment fed the fear inside him. Fear and over whelming concern.
Alexander took a heavy breath, which wedged in his chest like a blacksmith’s iron. “It’s over, then.”
“Sir?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He waved his trusted butler away and allowed his hand to drop limply onto the chair. He sat silently for a few moments as
he mulled over the past, and the future, and what he couldn’t keep from slipping from his once-powerful hands. “I love my son, you know.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ve never had a particularly easy relationship.”
“No, sir,” Sinclair agreed.
Alexander rubbed his head, slightly nettled by his butler’s honesty. “I’ve been grateful for the second chance.” He thought for a moment, sighing deeply. “I should tell him, I suppose,” he said, almost to himself. “Truth is, if Alex had to choose between this ranch and Daphne, he’d choose his woman.”
“Of course, sir. He would be like his father in that regard. Only one woman to hold his heart.”
“Hmph.” Alexander tried not to look wistful as he thought of his deceased Sabrina. It was true, though. There had only been one woman, one woman alone, who had captured his heart and kept it. “Ah, well,” he muttered, defeated. “I’ve done my best. It would just stir up trouble if I tell him.”
“Sir?”
He pursed his lips, ignoring his employee’s confusion. As long as he had breath in his body, he would do everything he could to hold his family together. “I can still give my daughter-in-law a gift she’ll like, though. Sinclair, take me to the store.”
“Do you know what you’re after, sir?”
“Have you ever known me not to know my own mind?” he loudly demanded, just to show that he still had everything under control. Only he knew he didn’t.
And it was all because of those pink-be rib boned granddaughters of his.
Chapter Six
The problem, as best Alex could discern, was that Daphne, being naturally in de pen dent, was more than capable of being a single parent. He knew she still loved him, despite the fact she had left their marriage. It was a temporary setback he chose to overcome. His entire lineage of paternal Bannings was made up of men who overcame setbacks to become great men. One petite, adorably fiery woman shouldn’t prove too great a resistance to the success of his marriage—particularly since he knew she loved him. And, though she pro claimed it to be a transient situation, she was in his home, on his turf.
The complex angle was discovering how to win her. He wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that buying questionable vehicles from her family members was enough to win Daphne’s heart. His mother’s pearls hadn’t appeared to warm her toward him, either. She couldn’t be bought, an unworthy tactic his father had worked on Daphne’s father, Cos. No, there had to be some thing more that would convince her that they belonged together.
He just couldn’t put his finger on what that was, when he’d thought all along love would be enough between them. When had that changed?
It really made his chest hurt to think they simply might be too dissimilar. If Daphne wasn’t happy being in the same house with him and the children, maybe their marriage wasn’t going to work. After all, it took two people to make a marriage, and as Daphne had said many times, she wanted a divorce. The days were ticking slowly toward their anniversary.
He didn’t think he could face it. Yet it was the only thing she seemed to want from him.
Sighing, he decided to pay his father a visit. Maybe Alexander, a strategist in his own right, could tell him where he was erring in his pursuit of the woman he loved. Rounding the corner, he stopped at the sound of Daphne’s voice.
She was talking to the babies on the stair landing, holding one of his off spring as she looked at the portraits of the Banning ancestors.
“And this is the second Alexander,” she said softly to the baby in her arms. The other two babies lay in the triple stroller, apparently paying great attention to the singsong notes of Daphne’s voice, though Alex doubted they were absorbing their genealogy lesson.
“Oh, don’t cry, angel,” Daphne told the baby.
From his narrow vantage point, it appeared she was addressing Alex Junior.
“Oh, that was just a hiccup. I see. I was afraid you were concerned by Alexander the Second’s stern visage. I assure you that, while all of the men in this family wear those frowns, they are nothing to be frightened of,” she cooed to the baby.
Alex’s jaw dropped. He didn’t have stern features!
“What’s that, Miss Magoo? Why are there no maternal ancestral portraits? That’s a very good question,” Daphne answered. “It’s because no one has suggested it yet. Now that you have, we must investigate the possibility. Because for every great man, there’s a great female to whom he owes his success in one form or another.”
Alex held back a chuckle even as he thought through Daphne’s statement. Why were there no portraits of women lining the stair case? It was true, what Daphne said. His mother had been his father’s greatest asset.
“You’re right, Yoda. As we all know, male and female children have the same degree of potential. This ancestor, for example, Alexander the Third, under stood that very well. You can see on his brass plate that he was a world-renowned chef. This was an illustrious achievement, because he created meals of such wonder that he was sought after by royalty and heads of state. However, if you would pay closer attention to the name plate than your bib, Miss Magoo, you will see that he also cooked at local soup kitchens on Sundays. Quite progressive, even for a Banning male, wouldn’t you say?”
Alex shook his head as the history lesson ended on a wail from one of the babies. He walked up the stair case. Daphne held one baby to her and pushed the triple stroller with the other hand to the elevator.
“Let me get that,” he said as the doors slid open.
Daphne smiled briefly at him. “Thanks. The girls just decided they were hungry.”
“I see they like their new stroller.” Two of his daughters lay inside the contraption, looking at him with wondering eyes. They were probably mesmerized by the elevator lights, but all the same, he liked thinking they recognized him.
“Yes. The stroller was an ingenious gift from my parents. I really appreciate it.” She patted the handles happily. “It’s the only way I can get all three infants around at the same time. I feel like I’m spending family time with them, instead of shuffling them around like wrapped bundles.”
He smiled, even though he felt a little left out. When the elevator doors opened on the first floor, he made certain they stayed open long enough for Daphne to move the triple stroller past them, but she didn’t even look at him.
“Thank you,” she said, pushing the babies down the hallway toward her room. It was her room. In decisively, he wondered if she wanted him with her. She certainly hadn’t said, and she hadn’t shown any great happiness that he’d joined her. She disappeared inside her quarters without a word to him, no invitation to join her in the feeding frenzy his babies were demanding.
There had to be a way to win his woman back. He had everything a man usually needed to get the woman of his dreams—wealth and position, chiefly.
None of it was doing him a bit of good.
Then the light bulb went on. He saw the logical battle plan. Daphne believed in equal rights, equal opportunities. That’s the lesson she’d been teaching her daughters during the family tree lecture. There fore, she couldn’t shut him out from his family. He had equal rights, too!
And he could be a great father. Not autocratic and austere, like his father had been during Alex’s child hood. He’d win her heart with a devoted dad demonstration.
Purposefully, Alex strode to Daphne’s quarters. One baby slept, one cried in Danita’s arms and one nursed at Daphne’s breast, a sight that fascinated Alex and sent hot desire searing through him.
“Danita, I’ll take that one,” he said, reaching for the crying baby. Anything to get his mind off Daphne’s sexy, nicely rounded breasts!
“Okay.” Danita relinquished her charge and rose. “I’ll head down to the kitchen and fix Daphne some lunch.”
“That’s all right, Mother. You don’t have to go,” Daphne protested, but Mrs. Way made the fastest exit Alex had ever seen. Without appearing too pleased, he commandeered the rocker and b
egan to comfort his daughter.
Daphne scowled at him as she covered her breasts. Alex smiled at her pleasantly.
“What are you up to?” she demanded.
“Holding my daughter,” he said innocently. “You need help with these babies. I’m going to help you.”
“I want my mother,” she insisted.
“As a father, I find it in cum bent to execute my paternal duties.” He gave her his politician’s smile, the one he used when locked into battle with fierce opponents.
“In cum bent?”
“Necessary,” he supplied.
“I know what it means,” she snapped. “I’m asking you why you suddenly feel this way.”
“It’s not sudden. I want to be with you and the children.”
She was silent for a moment. The blouse parted, revealing what she’d tried to hide from him. He tried not to stare at his baby nursing at Daphne’s breast. Some thing told him if he looked in that direction he would activate his wife’s alarm system. Despite the fact that the smooth, pale globe of flesh tugged at his vision with an undeniable need to stare, he forced himself to meet Daphne’s green eyes.
“You tried to get me to move them into the nursery!”
“Yes, well, that was so you could get some rest,” he replied smoothly. “But I think we could all sleep together just fine until they’re older.”
“We’re not sleeping together at all,” she said tightly. “Alex, if this is because of the car you bought me—”
“It’s not!” he denied hastily. “The car is yours without any obligation. I only want to make your life easier.”
“By sleeping with me? That won’t make my life easier!”
“I could help you with the babies in the night.”
“My mother is just fine,” she insisted.
Maybe he could convince Mrs. Way to move home. Alex rapidly reviewed that scenario.
“My mother has assured me she’ll stay as long as I need her.”