Lone Star Millionaire

by Susan Mallery

  They peeked into the two bedrooms—one with the double bed neatly made, the other in a state of complete chaos. Obviously Kendra’s. Thea didn’t know why, but her heart went out to the teen who seemed to feel she didn’t measure up.

  Scott looked sheepish. “I had no idea her room was this bad.”

  “Teenagers.” Joyce shrugged. “It goes with the territory.”

  Thea met his gaze and wondered. Shouldn’t a parent have some idea about his child’s environment? They lived in the same house, for goodness’ sake.

  “Brace yourself.” He opened the bathroom door and stepped back. “I’m afraid to look.”

  Thea followed Joyce past him and breathed in the pleasant scent of cologne and man. Her stomach fluttered, but she chalked it up to the fact that it had been a long time since she’d experienced that particular scent. Ignoring him took some effort, but she managed to focus on the separate shower and tub area.

  The vanity had two sinks and was littered with bottles of hair products and combs and brushes of various sizes and shapes. A curling iron, blow-dryer and makeup were scattered over every square inch of counter space. It seemed a million years since her biggest concern had been her hair. But she was grateful for those carefree days before she knew that life—and death—could bring her to her knees.

  Sighing, she let her gaze wander. She saw flannel pajama bottoms and a coordinating top in a pile beside the overflowing wastebasket.

  Scott was watching her and noticed the direction of her gaze. He hastily grabbed the handles of the trash bag, pulling it out of the container. “Sorry. I had no idea this bathroom was located in tornado alley.”

  Joyce arched an eyebrow. “I’ve seen much worse, believe me. This is nothing.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he said, shutting the door. “I think it qualifies for federal disaster assistance.”

  Thea brought up the rear as they went downstairs. Was there a Mrs. Matthews? The interaction between him and his daughter gave her the impression there wasn’t. The niggling sense of excitement in that thought brought her up short because it was so very unexpected.

  In the kitchen, he set the bag of trash beside the tall circular metal container. “So there you have it,” he said to Joyce.

  She nodded. “This house will go fast on today’s market.”

  “In spite of the biohazard bathroom?”

  Thea laughed. Until his comments about Kendra’s disaster of a bathroom, she’d thought the man had no sense of humor. She liked it.

  “Forget it, Scott,” Joyce said. “If you decide to list the place, you’ll have time to clean it up.”

  “That will be Kendra’s job,” he said.

  “Good luck getting her cooperation,” Thea mumbled.

  Joyce glanced at the two of them. “I gather she’s resistant to moving?”

  “She’ll come around,” he claimed.

  “Of course she will.” Joyce looked at her watch. “I’ve got to run to another appointment.”

  “So what do you think the place is worth?” he asked.

  “Scott, you know as well as I do it’s a gold mine. This neighborhood is one of the most desirable in Santa Clarita. Houses sell as soon as they go on the market. There’s a waiting list. You can easily get top dollar.”

  “What kind of top dollar are we talking?”

  “Let me do some comparables and I’ll let you know,” she said. She looked at Thea. “I’ll call you about listing your condo.”

  Thea nodded. After Joyce was gone, she was alone with Scott Matthews. For some reason he made her nervous, and not because he was annoyed with her. It had started after her assumption that he wasn’t married.

  “I guess I should be going, too,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  She looked at the food she’d brought from a luncheon and reheated here for Kendra. It didn’t seem right to walk away from the dirty dishes, so she moved several pots and pans to the sink and squirted soap from the container there into them.

  “Just leave that,” he said.

  “Can’t. Part of my job. A professional doesn’t leave a mess in the kitchen.”

  “Even though you don’t have a contract?”

  “Even so. It’s a service-oriented, word-of-mouth business. Someone you know might need a caterer and you’ll remember the one who didn’t leave a mess.”

  While she worked, Thea glanced at Scott who brooded beside her. “Kendra told me she’s never had a party. Is that true?”

  He met her gaze and his own narrowed. “It doesn’t mean she’s underprivileged.”

  “I can see that she’s got everything she needs. Materially,” she added.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Just that I got the feeling it was very important to her to have a party.”

  “What was your first clue, Dr. Phil?”

  She ignored his sarcasm. “The fact that she didn’t tell you I was coming. I’d have to guess she felt you would veto the catering idea.”

  “She didn’t give me a chance to veto it.”

  “And if she had? What would you have said?” Thea asked, watching him carefully.

  He sighed. “Probably I’d have said no.”

  “Look…” She rested her wrists inside the sink, letting the water drip from her hands. “Probably I should have asked if she had permission to hire me. And when it came to a signed contract and deposit check, the cat would have been out of the bag. But there’s something about Kendra.”

  “Why didn’t she come to me? That’s a rhetorical question by the way.” He shook his head, then met her gaze. “And I don’t understand why she’s so upset about selling the house. It’s just a house.” His tone oozed frustration.

  “Men.” Thea stared at him, not bothering to conceal her exasperation.

  “What?”

  His clueless expression was so darn cute, she couldn’t help a small sigh. “How long have you lived here?”

  He thought for a moment and said, “I guess ten or eleven years.”

  “So Kendra was about seven or eight when you moved in. She hardly remembers living anywhere else. She’s facing big changes, like leaving high school and going away to college. Then she finds out you’re getting rid of her anchor. Of course she freaked. Change is hard.”

  “I haven’t gotten rid of anything yet.”

  “Just the thought of change is uncomfortable. It’s human nature to fight against that.”

  Scott shifted his feet and brushed against the bag of trash on the floor. It tilted sideways, spilling the contents. “Damn it.”

  He bent to pick up the bag, giving her an unobstructed view of his backside. She was the first to admit she was out of practice in the fine art of observing men. And truthfully, she’d never understood the fascination for that particular part of the male anatomy. But Scott Matthews’s fanny gave her a completely different perspective.

  He straightened, pressed the latch on the kitchen can and dumped the smaller bag inside. Then he stooped again to gather up the stray trash on the tile. He picked up a slender plastic stick.

  Frowning, he rolled it between his fingers. “Is this what I think it is?”

  She saw the plus and minus symbols. “It is if you think it’s a pregnancy test.”

  She should know. She’d used one not that long ago and hers had come up a plus.

  Chapter 2

  “Just shoot me now.” A muscle jumped in Scott’s lean cheek and tension made his already square jaw seem harder somehow. “Does this mean it’s negative?”

  Thea stared at the minus sign. “Not necessarily. The results are only accurate for a short time. There’s no way to know if it’s positive or negative unless you know how long it’s been lying around.”

  His expression was dark when he looked up. “I feel as if I’ve been walking down the stairs and just missed the last three steps.”

  She wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

  Impossibly blue eyes narrowed o
n her. “What are you? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”

  “Thirty-four.” But what did that have to do with anything?

  “Married? Divorced?”

  “Neither,” she answered. “I’m a widow.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, but she was grateful when he didn’t comment. The automatic “I’m sorry” was awkward and meaningless. She wasn’t even sure why she’d clarified her marital status to him. Normally she didn’t volunteer anything like that. But nothing about today was normal.

  “Do you have any children?” he asked, exasperation lacing his tone.

  Not yet, although she would soon. God willing. But this man was grilling her like raw hamburger. She’d innocently gotten caught up in his personal problems; that didn’t mean she had to reciprocate with her own problems. When her husband had received his cancer diagnosis, she’d learned the very hard lesson that personal information should be dispensed on a need-to-know basis. Scott was a prospective client. Maybe not, she thought, noting his intense expression. But whatever happened, he wasn’t entitled to her life story.

  And she certainly wasn’t going to tell this man, this virtual stranger, that she was now pregnant through in vitro fertilization with her dead husband’s baby. She couldn’t ignore the question, but there was no need to put a finer point on it.

  “No,” she finally said. “I don’t have any children.”

  He slid her an I-thought-so look. “Then don’t tell me not to jump to conclusions.”

  “I was simply trying to help.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. This,” he said, holding up the stick, “means she’s having sex. Probably unprotected.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Scott. I know this is a serious issue.”

  “Really?” He put the test stick on the counter beside him, then met her gaze. “You know it intellectually? Or because you’ve watched Oprah and Dr. Phil? Or you’ve seen the teenage pregnancy statistics in Newsweek?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “But you don’t have children. You have no idea what it’s like to be nineteen and find out you’re going to be a father. You don’t have a clue what it’s like to be a kid yourself and find out you’re going to have a baby.”

  “No, but—”

  “I do,” he interrupted. “It’s damned scary. And everyone has an opinion about what should happen. My parents. Her parents. On top of that, she and I couldn’t agree on what to do.”

  “What did you do?” Thea couldn’t stop herself from asking. Just because she had a hang-up about sharing nonessential personal information didn’t mean she wasn’t curious about him. If he had a problem with it, he could tell her to mind her own business.

  “I married her,” he answered.

  “Most people would call that doing the right thing.”

  “The right thing?” His handsome features turned harsh.

  “No one could call your daughter ugly names or tease her about being born outside of marriage.”

  “Yeah, at least I prevented that.” He smiled, but there was no humor in the look.

  “And it can’t have been all bad. You had a second child together.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Kendra wasn’t planned. We were still too young and, I thought, perfectly happy with one child. Then we were careless. I was all of twenty-two when she came along.”

  Thea thought about her own struggle to become a mother. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d wanted to have a baby. When she’d married, she’d ached to know what it was like to feel a life growing inside her. She felt it now, mostly because she was tired and nauseous. The point was, she felt different, important. After the heartbreak of two miscarriages, she yearned to bring a healthy baby into the world and would do everything possible to make that happen. Now Scott was telling her his second child wasn’t welcome.

  She didn’t try to hide the irritation and disapproval she suspected were visible on her face. “Some people would say having two children makes you lucky.”

  “I am. And very grateful they’re normal, healthy kids. I love them more than anything. But the fact is I missed out on a lot. I hardly got to be a kid before I had two in two and a half years.”

  “But isn’t it the tough times that forge the bonds in a relationship?”

  “Not ours. That second pregnancy was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When Gail was seven and Kendra five, she decided the girls and I were cramping her style. She didn’t want to be a mother and she left.”

  “She abandoned her children?”

  “Define abandoned. Every once in a while she turns up. It was worse when they were little and all their emotions were stirred up. Now the girls have her pegged. They’re polite but cool if she drops in.”

  “It must have hurt them a lot.”

  “They’re better off without her.” He shrugged. “They got over it.”

  Did they? And were they really better off without her? Thea wondered. Through no fault of their own or Scott’s, Kendra and her sister hadn’t been raised by Ward and June Cleaver. And Thea sensed ripples beneath the surface in the Matthews household. Sensed, heck. She’d seen for herself the tension between Scott and his daughter. Kendra was still hurting.

  “Were you better off when your wife left?” she asked him. Again she wondered if he would answer. In his shoes, she wouldn’t. But everything she’d just learned had her curiosity sparring with her better judgment.

  He sighed. “That’s not an easy question to answer. It was tough doing it alone. I still had to work to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. But I had two little girls depending on me when they got sick. Child care was a constant worry. And it’s expensive. There was no one to share the responsibility.”

  That gave Thea a pang. Her plan of having a baby had always included sharing the experience with her baby’s father. And the plan had always involved sex with said father. She’d never envisioned that the love of her life would get sick. That he would simply donate sperm and medical science would take care of the rest. She was having a baby. And she would be doing it alone. But in her case, she would never know what having help and support felt like, so she wouldn’t feel the absence of it. But Scott had known.

  “Did you miss her? Or was it just parenting alone that was a problem? I’m sorry,” she said, before he could answer. She held up her hand. “That’s really none of my business.”

  What was it about Scott Matthews that made inappropriate questions pop out of her mouth?

  “Actually, the fact that I don’t mind you asked is an answer in itself. Yes, I missed her. And not just because raising those two girls alone was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

  He’d cared and then he was alone. She related all too well. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  “I don’t need sympathy. Raising kids is also the most wonderful, rewarding thing I’ve ever done.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m not exactly sure why I told you all that.”

  “Maybe because I happened to be here when you found the stick?”

  He frowned. “That damn pregnancy test.”

  “Sometimes it’s easier to confide in strangers. Someone who doesn’t have an emotional stake in any of this.”

  “Yeah,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t usually spill my guts. But then, it’s not every day I find out my daughter is sexually active.”

  “Shock will loosen your tongue.”

  He glanced at the evidence beside him. “I can’t believe this. I don’t want my daughter to be a mother while she’s still a child herself. I don’t want her to repeat my mistakes.”

  “I hate to think of children as mistakes,” she said, a tad sharply. “They’re a consequence of an action. A fact of life.” Or in her case, combining her egg with her husband’s sperm in a petri dish. In vitro fertilization was the miracle that had produced her fact of life.

  “You’re split
ting hairs. I don’t want them to do the same things I did. And now I find this.”

  “You were right when you said I’ve had no experience in this area. But you’re obviously upset and I feel compelled to offer something. If Kendra is pregnant, it would be an experience that will take her down a different path. It doesn’t have to mean failure for either of you.”

  “Hold on—”

  “Think about it,” she interrupted. “Can you honestly tell me you can imagine your life without your children in it?”

  Hostility crackled in the air between them. Then the corners of his mouth curved up. “Actually, yes. I’ve been imagining Kendra going off to college.”

  “She’ll still be in your life,” Thea pointed out.

  “I was kidding. She thinks I’m against junior college. Truthfully, I have mixed feelings about her going away. You’re right. I can’t imagine never having my girls. They’re my reason for getting out of bed every day and putting one foot in front of the other.”

  Boy, in her current condition, she could really relate to that. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him about her pregnancy, to share it with him. To bond. But she swallowed the temptation.

  “Look, Scott, has it occurred to you that the test might not even belong to her?”

  His face brightened. “Actually, no.”

  “You’re obviously a glass-is-half-empty kind of guy,” she said wryly. “It’s always possible that it belongs to a friend who didn’t want to take the test at her house. And Kendra was just being supportive.”

  “Way to put a positive spin on this.”

  His sudden smile had a very weird effect on her. She felt the force of it through her whole body. Her stomach dropped as if she were riding an elevator that suddenly plunged toward the basement. And her heart fluttered as if powered by a horde of hummingbirds’ wings.

  “I’m a pro at spinning,” she finally managed to say.

  “Spinning the facts?”

  “No, actually. Salad spinning is more my style.”

  “Thanks for the benefit of an alternate perspective.” He laughed. “But seriously, I’m sorry I dumped on you.”

  “Like I could have stopped you.” She smiled.