Evening Hours

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  “I’m honored,” he said in a low, drawling voice, his eyes inspecting the length of her even though she remained seated.

  Sex personified.

  “Thank you, Mr. McFarland.”

  “Make it Cutler.”

  She nodded, feeling the flush deepen in her cheeks.

  “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Barbie said in her shrill voice, setting the glass of wine down before she strolled off.

  Kaylee could cheerfully have strangled the model.

  For the longest time neither said a word. Then someone came up to Cutler and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned to speak to the man, Kaylee took the opportunity to give the cowboy the once-over. Up close, the front view fell short of the back one.

  He ought to have been pretty-boy good-looking. But his features were too harsh for that. Even so, he oozed charisma and sex appeal. He was tall and thin with just the right amount of muscle. His black hair was streaked with silver and his blue eyes were surrounded by dark sooty lashes.

  “Would you care to dance?”

  Kaylee gave a start, worried she’d been caught staring. That fear actually took precedence over the fact that he hadn’t noticed her cane. “No…no, thank you.”

  He shrugged. “Okay. Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not.”

  As if he read between the lines, a grin, more in keeping with a smirk, crept across Cutler’s lips. He eased down in the chair in front of her and said, “I understand congratulations are in order. Sorry I wasn’t here when you received the award.”

  “Thanks.” Could he see her heart beating out of sync? She hoped not. That would be the final humiliation.

  His lips twitched again. “Relax, Kaylee, I’m harmless.”

  Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  He chuckled. “It’s obvious you wish I’d get lost.”

  Kaylee opened her mouth to deny his words, but when nothing came out, she tightened her lips.

  His chuckle sounded like a low rumble.

  Who was this man anyway? And where had he come from?

  Once again he seemed to read her mind. “It’s my job to read people. If not, I wouldn’t be a very good district attorney.”

  Her eyes widened again. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “That smarts, since I’m running for reelection.”

  “Are you drumming up votes?” she asked bluntly.

  “I like your style—direct and to the point.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  He laughed. “I’m the best man for the job.”

  “How do I know that?”

  His eyes drilled her, and his voice dropped a pitch. “You don’t, but you will as soon as you get to know me better.”

  Kaylee sucked in her breath. Was he flirting with her? No, her imagination must be working overtime.

  “Look, Mr. McFarland—”

  “Cutler.”

  His gaze didn’t waver and for a moment hers didn’t either.

  “Excuse me for interrupting, Kaylee, but I have some people I want you to meet.”

  The voice of the chamber president, Kevin Holmes, brought her back to reality with a jolt. Cutler suddenly stood and moved aside. Pulling her gaze off him, she forced a smile. “I’d be delighted to meet your friends.”

  “McFarland, you’re welcome to remain,” Kevin said. “In fact, I insist.”

  “Thanks, but I was just leaving,” Cutler said. “I’ve taken up enough of Kaylee’s time.” Then he leaned down and, for her ears alone, he murmured, “I’ll see you later.”

  Feeling shell-shocked, all she could do was watch him stride off.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Yet he had no choice. What he was witnessing was a fact. He’d put his hand on the Bible and swear to it. His daughter was actually having a conversation with a good-looking man and seemingly enjoying it.

  Hell, if the animated look on her face was anything to judge by, flirting would be closer to the truth. Edgar’s pulse raced and his palms turned sweaty. He’d prayed for this day since his precious daughter had awakened in that hospital room so many years ago and was forced to face the cruelest of futures.

  Kaylee had more than risen to the challenges that faced her. Tonight was testimony to that. He was so proud of her he felt his heart would burst.

  The man Kaylee seemed interested in looked vaguely familiar; however, Edgar knew he’d never met him. More important, he wondered what his motives were. Those questions and more filled Edgar’s head.

  He straightened his slumping shoulders and moved slightly closer, allowing the partygoers to shield him so Kaylee wouldn’t notice his hovering. Yet he remained out of her vision more for his own personal benefit than hers.

  Just watching her happiness made him giddy.

  Edgar moved a little to his left for a better look at the man. Or should he say cowboy? Edgar almost laughed out loud at the idea that his daughter would give someone in jeans and boots even a second glance, especially at a black tie function.

  Then just as quickly as the flirtation began, it ended. The cowboy relinquished his seat to others.

  “Damn,” Edgar muttered under his breath.

  He had to do something. But what? He couldn’t force the man not to leave his daughter, for God’s sake. Ah, all was not lost. Tomorrow was another day. A day to devise a plan.

  That thought brought him more than comfort. It shot his excitement level off the charts.

  Two

  What an incredible morning.

  Kaylee had risen early, much earlier than normal, and brewed a pot of coffee. With cup in hand, she had adjourned to the patio and sat in one of her padded wrought-iron chairs. That had been over an hour ago now, and she still hadn’t the wherewithal to move.

  That in itself was unusual. Even before she’d opened the agency she had been an early riser, energized whether she’d slept or not. She didn’t want to miss one moment of any day, her subconscious continually whispering that sleep was a waste of precious time.

  Kaylee inhaled the fresh scent in the air. It was as clean as the dew that covered the ground. Turning slightly, she got a whiff of the wisteria blossoms draped on a nearby bush. She breathed even deeper. The fragrance was heaven-sent, like none other. Her gaze drifted to the rosebush on the other side. Although she couldn’t smell it, she knew she only had to press her nose against one of the blooms and its sweetness would also swamp her senses.

  Her small backyard was lovely, but then she’d worked hard to make it so—she and the nursery, that is. She couldn’t keep her yard in this shape by herself, although she would’ve loved nothing better. Her taxing career, not to mention her physical limitations, made that impossible. She did what she could when she could, which helped keep her in shape.

  She had bought this old home in West University Place, an upscale but older section of the city, even though her dad had discouraged her from making such a bold and aggressive move. He thought it would be too much for her to keep up, but she hadn’t listened. Though he was her best ally and cheerleader, he never let her forget that she was handicapped, a fact that could fester if she let it.

  He had wanted her to continue to live in the house with him where she had grown up. But she had desperately wanted her own space. She needed to stake her independence in order to keep her sanity. After all, she was handicapped, not dysfunctional.

  Edgar now admitted that Kaylee had proved him wrong once again. He was so proud of her, of what she had accomplished and was continuing to achieve. Her father wasn’t her only avid supporter. Her godfather, Drew Rush, her dad’s longtime friend and employer, had always encouraged her to push the envelope, so to speak.

  Without his monetary help and his endorsements, Benton Modeling Agency wouldn’t be in existence today. While she might not have a husband, she certainly had two strong men in her life for whom she was grateful.

  Suddenly a bird chirped loudly in a nearby tree. Kaylee listened to his melodious music, an
d smiled. In that same tree two squirrels were playing tag. She concentrated on them until they jumped to another limb and disappeared into the lush foliage of the live oak tree.

  Lifting her head, she searched for a puff of clouds. Nary a one was visible. The sky was azure blue and the sun was well on its way to full strength.

  This was a great way to start a morning.

  Soon, though, she was going to have to stop lollygagging, dress and get to the office. But not just now. She guessed it was only around seven-thirty, which gave her plenty of time to continue down this path of indulgence and still not be late.

  She smiled again. She could be late if she wanted, she reminded herself. After all, she was the boss. For a second that thought made Kaylee giddy. She still couldn’t believe she’d been honored in such a fantastic way. She had enjoyed every minute of it, too, even though she had been exhausted when she’d crawled into bed around midnight.

  She couldn’t complain. Life was good right now, and Kaylee had learned early to treasure such moments. After nearly losing her life at such a young age, nothing had ever been the same and she never wasted one precious moment.

  That thinking gave her all the more reason not to waste one second contemplating a particular man. Her heart did a sudden somersault as she admitted to herself that she had thought about that cowboy off and on all night.

  Unsettling?

  Absolutely.

  Crazy?

  Absolutely.

  A waste of time?

  Absolutely.

  Lethal.

  Absolutely.

  So why couldn’t she get him off her mind?

  She couldn’t answer that. All she knew was that she didn’t want to think about any man, not in that context, anyway. But then Cutler McFarland wasn’t just any man.

  Under no circumstances could she label him average. After meeting him, she thought he would be better suited to have been born in the early eighteen hundreds. She could see him with a holster and gun strapped to his waist and thigh, defending justice at all cost.

  That picture forced a chuckle from Kaylee’s lips; but she saw no humor in her thoughts. She was just setting herself up for trouble and heartache, neither of which she could afford. Only since her agency had taken off had she felt like a whole woman, as if she wasn’t different from the average female walking the streets.

  Now was not the time to let a man, especially a man’s man, the kind she could never have, undermine her happiness.

  When she had first looked at her scarred stomach, the result of a trek across jagged glass, she had been repulsed. But over the years, and after several plastic surgeries, she could now bear the sight. But she couldn’t stand the thought of a man seeing it. She’d built an impenetrable wall that hadn’t failed her until she’d noticed Cutler McFarland’s great tush.

  The fact that he appeared taken with her hadn’t helped any. Still, the minute he noticed her leg, she knew she’d see pity replace interest. She couldn’t handle that. So any further thoughts of that cowboy were taboo.

  “You can dodge this bullet, Kaylee Benton,” she said to the tiny wren who perched on a sagging wisteria limb. Only something that small could light on such a flimsy place and be safe, she thought with inane desperation.

  Her verbal warning did no good. Her mind settled back on Cutler and wouldn’t let go. Had he been as attracted to her as she had been to him? His gaze had held a special gleam, one she had never noticed in a man’s eye, though she was certainly no expert on men. Relationships had never been in the cards for her, nor could she have explored any had they been. She’d been too busy trying to put her body and soul back together and trying to craft a life for herself outside the handicapped world.

  She hated the word handicapped, but she despised the new socially correct “special needs” term even more. She didn’t want to think of herself as special in any way. Or needy. She just wanted to be thought of as normal.

  Unfortunately, that often became impossible, even for her.

  When she got tired and her leg refused to function, she had to depend on her leg brace. That was when she noticed the pitying glances. They gagged her now just as they had so many years ago.

  Suddenly Kaylee found herself traveling back in time to that fateful day when she had awakened from surgery to find her dad sitting beside her bed, his face twisted and drenched with tears.

  “Daddy, where am I?” she remembered asking in a weak, trembling voice.

  “In the hospital, baby.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s been an accident,” he choked out. “Don’t you remember?”

  She thought for a moment, then said, “No. What happened?”

  “You just got out of surgery.”

  “Is that why I hurt so badly?”

  “Are you in pain?”

  “My leg—”

  “I’ll call the nurse.” He punched the button on the side of the bed.

  “How bad am I injured?”

  “Oh, God, baby—” Edgar’s voice broke and he couldn’t go on.

  “Tell me, Daddy.”

  He must have heard the panic in her voice, because he blurted out the words that changed her forever. “You had a wreck and hurt yourself real bad.”

  “Mom? Mom was with me, wasn’t she?” When he didn’t answer, Kaylee went on, her voice in the shrill range. “Wasn’t she?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “Where is she now? Why isn’t she here with me?”

  Edgar put his head down and sobbed.

  “Daddy,” she cried, placing a hand on his head and burying it in his hair. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She can’t be here, baby,” he sobbed.

  “Why not?”

  “She…she didn’t make it.”

  At first those horrible words didn’t penetrate, so she asked, “What do you mean?”

  “She’s…she’s dead, baby. Your mother died on impact.”

  “No!” Kaylee let out a wail that sounded like a wounded animal’s cry.

  Edgar raised himself just enough to fold her in his arms, his chest absorbing the brunt of her sobs.

  “I want my mother,” she cried over and over. “I want my mother. I want my mother….”

  It was fresh tears falling on her arm that brought Kaylee back to reality. She raised her head and struggled to swallow the huge lump lodged in her throat. Dear Lord, she hadn’t taken that stroll down memory lane in years. But whenever she did, it racked her body and soul, rendering her useless for hours, days, even weeks.

  This time was no exception. She felt spent, utterly drained and so depressed that she wanted to curl into a fetal position in the closet and say to hell with the world and everyone in it.

  She wouldn’t do that. Pity parties where she was the only one in attendance were another part of her past that no longer existed, but she knew that hadn’t always been the case. Once she had gotten over the shock of her mother’s death, she’d had to deal with another shock—her broken body.

  And guilt. Even though the accident hadn’t technically been her fault—the other driver had been charged—she had nonetheless borne the responsibility of causing her mother’s death.

  That, combined with the fact she would never be a vibrant sixteen-year-old turning cartwheels and dancing at will, had turned her into a monster, especially after her daddy had told her that she might not walk again and would definitely suffer permanent scarring on the lower half of her body.

  Kaylee didn’t realize she was no longer alone until she turned and saw her father standing behind the French doors watching her. Knowing it was too late to mask her tears, she motioned for him to join her.

  Once he was outside, he walked over and silently pulled her into his arms.

  “I’m so glad to see you, Daddy,” she whispered, clinging to him as tightly as she had done so many times in the past.

  “You’re still my baby and you can always count on me.”

  Three

  Cutler’s desk was
piled high with files and folders.

  He looked at them, feeling a knot form in the pit of his stomach. If he didn’t get off his ass things were going to start unraveling. He couldn’t afford that. Not in an election year.

  Not in any year. His high standard of ethics wouldn’t allow it.

  As he peered at his calendar, a sigh split Cutler’s lips. Two major cases were on the trial docket, cases that even his top assistant wasn’t up to prosecuting. That responsibility fell squarely on his shoulders.

  Both were controversial, with the potential to explode, and that was precisely why he had to be perfectly prepared. Losing was not something that interested him. When he walked into a courtroom, he expected to walk out a winner. He would accept nothing less.

  Cutler glanced at his watch. He and Angel were due to meet as soon as he made it to the office. Too bad he hadn’t told his prime investigator to meet him early, but he knew Angel wasn’t in the best of moods first thing in the morning. Besides, it was barely seven and all his staff worked more nights than not. Ergo, he needed to cut them some slack. That was hard, because he required very little sleep.

  Coffee could take most of the credit for that, Cutler reminded himself. Thinking of coffee made him realize he hadn’t taken advantage of the pot he’d brewed minutes after he’d walked into the office. He’d had several cups at home, but those didn’t count. He was just getting started.

  Moments later, back from the kitchenette, mug in hand, Cutler sat behind his desk. The paperwork hadn’t lessened any, he noticed with a smirk. After sipping on the hot liquid, he leaned back in his chair, lifted his arms above his head and stretched.

  Man, he was tired. No sleep and long hours were telling on him, something he couldn’t let happen. He had to be razor sharp mentally because he knew a shark was circling, a shark that was after his blood.

  During his tenure as district attorney, Cutler had made more than his share of enemies, one of whom, his current opponent, Winston Gilmore, was a high-profile attorney from an old established family with big mouths and big dollars. Gilmore was known to be abrasive, self-confident and into mudslinging.