Holding Out For A Hero

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “We would get him.”

  He spoke with such complete confidence that she wanted to take his word for it, but that was being naive. “You don’t know the power the Devaneys have down here. The judge who heard the case last time had known James Devaney for thirty years. Like I said, we might not get him.”

  Tanner was silent fora moment. “And what would you do then?”

  She honestly hadn’t thought that far.

  “Because if you’d divorce me and go back to Jimmy, just so you could be with Little Jim, you’d better tell me now.”

  “That would be horrible!”

  “I agree. Would you do it?”

  She thought about it, knowing that whatever her answer, it would have to be the final one. As recently as Sunday night she’d contemplated going back to Jimmy as a last resort. But now, with Tanner’s hand holding hers, that seemed like a sin against herself that she could not commit, not even to be with her son.

  “No,” she said. “No, I wouldn’t divorce you and go back to Jimmy.”

  His grip on her hand relaxed a fraction. “That’s good to know,” he said mildly, but there was a note of underlying tension.

  “I’d want to keep trying to get Little Jim, though,” she said.

  “Of course. We’d never give up.”

  A lump lodged in her throat. That was what she’d needed to know. She remained silent until she trusted herself to speak again. “Tell me about your family,” she said at last.

  As he complied, she worked to keep details in mind, when what she really wanted was to hold him close and thank him for being the kind of man she’d dreamed about all her life. She managed to retain information about a younger sister struggling with the rigors of law school and parents who lived a comfortable but unpretentious life in Illinois.

  Most important of all, Dori sensed the love that had surrounded Tanner as he grew up. Perhaps his devoted parents had indulged him a few times too often, which would explain his readiness to spend money without considering the consequences. But she’d rather deal with that problem than a lack of love, which tended to warp people in a way that was hard to straighten.

  “Does your family know you came down here to meet me?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” Tanner laughed. “My mother couldn’t understand why I needed to advertise for a wife, considering that I’m such a wonderful catch.”

  “You are, Tanner.”

  He took his attention from the road to glance at her in amusement. “As long as I learn some financial restraint, right?”

  She nodded.

  He returned his gaze to the road and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “Financial restraint won’t be the tough part.”

  As Dori’s body warmed in response, she had to agree.

  Tanner took a left turn on a dirt road. Driving slow enough that he kept the dust from billowing around them, he headed for a stand of cottonwoods. Dori had forgotten about this little oasis in the mostly treeless flatland around Los Lobos, although she’d come here a few times as a child. A rare underground spring fed the spot, creating a small pond that encouraged the cotton-woods to grow. This time of year, they shone yellow as ripe corn in the sunlight.

  Dori smiled. “Trust you to seek out the only trees around for miles.”

  “I know how you like the open sky, but picnics and trees seem to go together. Elmer told me about Abilene Lake, but it would have taken longer to get there and we wouldn’t have been alone.”

  Dori’s heart pounded. “Which might have been a good thing.”

  Leaves crunched under the tires as Tanner guided the truck off the roadway and found a shady place to park. He switched off the engine and turned to her. “I said my intentions were pure. I never promised not to kiss you. And I prefer kissing in private.”

  Her heart pounded faster. “Just kissing?”

  He regarded her with a twinkle in his eyes. “You sound disappointed.”

  “No! I just…wanted us to be clear.”

  His gaze became more serious. “We’re clear.” Then he opened his door. “Come on. We have to start back in less than two hours.”

  Dori helped him spread the red gingham tablecloth over a bed of fallen leaves and unpack the lunch. In the cottonwood tree above them a pair of canyon wrens sent their shimmering call down through the gold leaves. Little Jim would have loved this outing, she thought. Then she experienced a flash of guilt because she was secretly glad her son wasn’t with them today. With a start she realized that being with Tanner eased the grief of not having Little Jim with her. That was important, considering there were no guarantees about making this group a threesome in the future.

  “You do know about poison ivy, don’t you?” she asked as Tanner set the basket in the middle of the cloth and opened it.

  He glanced toward a scarlet-leaved plant about twenty feet away. “Like that?”

  “Like that. Years ago one of my cousins visiting from Arizona brought me a bouquet of fall leaves. He was especially proud of the bright red ones. He had a miserable visit after that.”

  Tanner laughed. “Poor guy. Did you have him on a budget, too?”

  “For your information, I am not in the habit of putting people on budgets. In fact, I’ve never done it before.”

  He sat back on his heels and gazed at her. “I guess that puts me in a special category.”

  “I guess it does.”

  He grinned. “Shoot, anything to stand out from the crowd, I always say. Let’s eat.”

  Tanner’s choice for lunch was ham sandwiches, chips, lemonade and a package of chocolate cupcakes. They sat on either side of the picnic basket, plates balanced on their laps and their lemonade glasses sitting on the closed lid of the basket as they ate.

  “The sandwiches are delicious,” Dori said after enjoying her first bite.

  “Thanks. I haven’t made sandwiches in a long time, but I guess it’s not the sort of thing you forget how to do.”

  “You eat out a lot, don’t you?”

  “Yep.” He bit a big chunk from his sandwich.

  “That’s wasteful, Tanner.”

  He finished chewing and swallowed before glancing sideways at her. “Maybe I was compensating for not having someone like you sitting across from me.”

  “There you go again, with that sweet talk.”

  “Want me to stop?”

  “No. I’m truly beginning to enjoy it.” She watched an orange dragonfly dip toward the small pond, take on water and buzz skyward again like a miniature biplane dusting crops. “You know, I haven’t shared a picnic lunch with a man since…” She paused and reached into her memory. “Since high school, I guess. And back then my dates were technically boys, not men. So I guess I’ve never had a picnic with a man unless you count my daddy.”

  “Did you ever come out here?”

  She finished a bite of sandwich. “Not on dates. We always went to Abilene Lake. But my momma and daddy brought me out here when I was younger than Little Jim.” She glanced at the pond, not much bigger than her backyard. “They teased me about that picnic for years afterward. It seems that when I saw the water, I asked Daddy if this was the ocean.”

  Tanner chuckled.

  “I hadn’t traveled much. In fact, when I married Jimmy Jr., I still hadn’t been very many places. We went to Hawaii on our honeymoon and I just stared at that amazing water. All the different colors just knocked me out.”

  “It’s spectacular, all right.”

  “You’ve been there?” She gazed at him and shook her head. “I’m really worried about you. Champagne tastes on a beer budget, as they say. You have to live within your means if you’re not rich like the Devaneys.”

  He set aside his plate. “Reform me.”

  Her pulse quickened at the look in his eyes. “I’m trying. But Hawaii, Tanner! You’re going to be a hard case.”

  “Maybe I didn’t have anything better to do.” He lifted the picnic basket, careful not to spill the lemonade, and settled it at the far
edge of the tablecloth. Then he took her plate from her unresisting hands and set it on the top of the basket. “Going to Hawaii was the most exciting thing I could think of.”

  Her breathing grew shallow as he leaned toward her, the promise of a kiss in his intense gaze. Balanced on one outstretched hand, she met him halfway. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that the best things in life are free?” she whispered.

  “I didn’t really believe it.” He paused a fraction away from the kiss. “Until I met you.”

  Only their lips touched, withdrew and touched again, almost as if they’d choreographed the delicate movement required. Too much pressure by either of them would send one of them toppling. Too little would mute the satisfaction of tasting each other. His tongue questioned, hers answered. Then, as she began to tremble and lose her balance, he caught her shoulders and guided her down, his mouth never leaving hers.

  Beneath them the leaves crunched. Dori accepted Tanner’s weight with a sigh of delight and wound her arms around him, bringing him closer. She’d forgotten the delicious feeling of a man lying against her breasts, exerting just enough pressure to knead their fullness with his movements.

  He lifted his head to gaze down at her, but kept her lightly pinned to the gingham cloth with his upper body. Slowly he combed her hair with his fingers, his eyes alight with pleasure. “You wore your hair down. Was that for me?”

  “Yes.”

  His glance roamed over her face. “You were made for this season of the year. The red in your hair…” He buried his fingers in it before leaning in close again. “The little gold flecks in your eyes when the sun’s just right.” He ran the tip of his finger over her parted lips. “And your mouth is the color of ripe apples.”

  “Sweet talker.” She cupped the back of his head. “Kiss me again, Tanner. Kiss me real good.”

  His mouth came down again, hungrier now, but so was she. This time when he pulled her T-shirt from the waistband of her jeans and reached for the back catch of her bra, she arched her back to allow him to do it. And at last those workman’s hands she’d fantasized about were cupping her breasts, stroking her nipples, making her whimper with desire.

  It was heaven on earth, but she couldn’t let him go on and think her a tease. She grasped his hands, holding on tight, and his movements stilled. He raised his head and gazed down at her. Silently, she looked into his eyes and watched the resignation settle in their blue depths. Slowly, he helped her up and refastened her bra. She noted his expertise and decided Tanner Jones was far more experienced than she, but then, most people were. Jimmy Jr. was her whole point of reference.

  “Tell me again why we’re waiting,” Tanner said.

  “So we can get to know each other first.”

  “Couldn’t we sort of work on both things at once?”

  She took his face in her hands. She longed to crush his mouth against hers once more, but she remembered her ultimate goal and resisted the urge. “You put your picture in Texas Men because you weren’t happy with the relationships you’d had so far. Is that right?”

  He sighed, as if knowing he’d lost the battle. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Besides throwing your money around, you probably rushed into intimacy with a woman, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe. But that was different, because—”

  She laid her finger against his lips. “Not so different, perhaps. I won’t let you ruin this. Not by spending too much money and not by making love before your heart’s in it.”

  He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “What if I told you my heart’s in it now, right this minute, and the rest of me is dying to follow?”

  “I’d say you’re a sweet-talkin’ man who’s used to getting what he wants immediately. But you’re here now, not in East Texas.” She took a long, steadying breath. “And thanks to me you’re going to learn the art of anticipation.”

  8

  DORI DIDN’T THINK anything could affect her positive mood as she started her shift that afternoon at the Double Nickel. She smiled at Heck Tyrrell when she saw him sitting at the counter enjoying an order of liver and onions. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon, Heck.”

  “My rig’s in the shop until three,” he said after swallowing a bite of food. “Had to put up at the Prairie Schooner last night.”

  Dori thought about that while she took a couple of orders from people sitting in the booths and clipped them to the stainless-steel ticket carousel. Heck had more to say on the subject of staying at the Prairie Schooner. She could feel it. Well, she had nothing to hide or be ashamed of.

  She picked up the coffeepot and moved down the counter, deliberately serving Heck last. “I stopped by the Prairie Schooner myself last night,” she said casually.

  “I know. Saw your car.”

  “I didn’t stay long.” Darn it, she sounded defensive when she had no reason to be.

  Heck blew across the surface of his coffee and glanced up at her. “That’s your business, how long you stayed.”

  Dori felt heat climb into her cheeks. “Heck—”

  “Easy, Dori Mae. I’m not fixing to judge you. It ain’t my place. Besides, I talked to that ol’ boy later on. He ain’t so bad considerin’ he’s from East Texas.”

  “You talked to him?” Dori wondered why Tanner had failed to mention that. “When?”

  “When we had all the commotion out there. You didn’t hear about it?”

  “No. What—” She paused as the cook set an order on the pass-through and another customer took a seat at the counter. “Don’t you move from that spot, Heck Tyrrell. I want to hear all about this commotion.”

  “I ain’t goin’ anywheres until three.” Heck pushed away his empty plate and reached in his breast pocket for a toothpick.

  A rush of business kept Dori busy for another fifteen minutes, but Heck sat patiently drinking coffee. Finally, she made it back to him, stuck her order pad and pencil in the pocket of her uniform and braced her elbows on the counter. “Now tell me about this commotion.”

  Heck took his toothpick from the corner of his mouth. “I figured you’d know about it by now. Some high school kids threw a stink bomb in one of the rooms. The parking lot smelled like a pig farm for quite a while. I guess the poor folks in the room had to borrow some clothes from Elmer and Beatrice while they washed every stitch they had.”

  “So that’s when you talked to Tanner?”

  “Yeah, everybody came out of their rooms to see what the ruckus was about. I recognized your new beau, so I decided to go over and say howdy. Check him out.”

  Dori noticed two truckers at the cash register, ready to pay. “Stay there,” she instructed Heck. “I’ll be right back.”

  A thought niggled at her as she finished the transaction for the truckers. She smiled at them as she closed the cash register. “Y’all come back now,” she said automatically, but her thoughts were on the vandalism at the Prairie Schooner. It could be coincidence that the motel was hit soon after Tanner arrived there, but she didn’t think so. Besides, Tanner hadn’t mentioned the incident, maybe because he didn’t want to worry her. That would be like Tanner, trying to protect her.

  Finally, she poured coffee for everyone at the counter and topped off Heck’s cup. “Are you sure it was high school kids?” she asked.

  “Nothin’ else makes sense. Those folks were from New Mexico, and they’d just stopped for one night. They didn’t have time to get somebody riled enough to throw a stink bomb in their room in the middle of the night.”

  Dori lowered her voice. “Maybe it was meant for Tanner. Did you think of that?”

  Heck glanced down the counter and leaned closer to Dori before he spoke. “Jimmy’s information would’ve been better. He would’ve hit the right room.”

  “I suppose.”

  Soon after that Heck left and customers kept Dori busy for the next two hours. Yet she couldn’t forget about the incident at the Prairie Schooner. The act was so like one Jimmy had pulled when
he was a senior at Los Lobos High. The geometry teacher, Mr. Confer, had flunked him. He’d slit the screen of an open window of Mr. Confer’s house and pitched a stink bomb inside. He hadn’t been caught, but he couldn’t resist bragging about it to Dori after they were married.

  This time he’d probably have bribed a maid to find out Tanner’s room number and then sent somebody else to throw the bomb. Jimmy wouldn’t have risked being tied to the episode. And the only reason Tanner hadn’t ended up with a stink bomb perfuming all his belongings was that Jimmy’s hired punk had bombed the wrong room.

  Or had he?

  The Double Nickel had telephones in each of the booths for any truckers who wanted to call home. Dori looked up the number for the Prairie Schooner in the phone book the café kept behind the cash register. Then during a lull in business she slid into an empty booth and called the motel.

  Elmer answered. “Dori! Did you and that ol’ boy have a good time today?”

  “We sure did, Elmer. Please thank Beatrice for the loan of her picnic basket. That was right generous of her.”

  “She thinks the world of you, Dori Mae, and we both feel bad about what you’ve been through. Your East Texan seems okay. Doesn’t even act much like he’s from the city.”

  “Well, he says you and Beatrice have been taking real good care of him, changing his room for him and all.”

  “Good thing we did, too! Some kids threw a stink bomb in the room he was in before.”

  Dori closed her eyes. So he hadn’t been in room nine all along. He’d deliberately lied to her. It wasn’t a big lie. Some would say it wasn’t even worth bothering about. But she was putting her life, not to mention Little Jim’s, on the line. With stakes like that, there was no such thing as a small lie.

  TANNER HAD DECIDED to take Dori dancing after she got off work. Given his budget, he’d had to settle for the Golden Spur, a small bar on the outskirts of town. Elmer had told him to expect reasonable drink prices, a jukebox and a postage-stamp-sized dance floor. Elmer hadn’t thought it would be very crowded on a Tuesday night.

  When Tanner had picked Dori up at her house he’d been looking forward to the pleasures of a honky-tonk sort of evening, the kind he’d enjoyed years ago before he’d graduated to expensive nightclubs. He’d viewed Dori’s choice of clothing with appreciation—a scoopnecked white blouse tucked into a colorful broomstick skirt. She’d looked feminine, sexy…and madder than a wet hen.