by Robyn Grady
“You’re not the only one who gets to draw up the terms,” she said, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “You hadn’t thought of it that way before, had you?”
His voice dropped. “I don’t want to have an argument.”
“No, you want to walk out and tell yourself you’d saved me a lot of pain. And guess what?” Her eyes edged with moisture. “You’re probably right.”
Her cheeks were flushed now and he felt his own temperature inching toward the red zone. “I knew I shouldn’t have come in,” he muttered at the doorway.
She crossed her arms at the same time her throat bobbed on a deep swallow.
“I’m not sorry we went away together. But, frankly, I take offence at being slotted into a schedule when and if an opening pops up. Guess I’m old-fashioned that way.”
A million thoughts raced through his mind. Not a one was appropriate to voice aloud. He exhaled. “I suppose there’s nothing left to say except, I might see you around.”
“I’ll be here.”
But when he turned to leave, she held him back.
“Daniel, wait.”
He spun back. She looked so beautiful, standing in a simple yellow dress, her hair mussed after this morning’s swim, skin glowing from days spent splashing and swimming and kissing. His gaze dropped to her lips. Plump. Moist.
He held back a groan.
Hell, if she wanted to reconsider, how could he say no?
Her arms unraveling, she took two steps toward him. A hint of a smile touched the corners of her lips. He was about to save her the suffering, close the distance separating them and kiss her—show her—he was sorry they’d argued.
But then she rubbed her palms down the sides of her skirt, lifted her chin, and said, “Good luck with that design. I’ll let you see yourself out.”
Thirteen
Daniel flew back to New York that afternoon. As he’d told Elizabeth, he’d wanted to speak with Rand about the final drawings for the club and, given he had nothing keeping him in Royal at this time—nothing at all—why waste time there when he could speak to his assistant in person?
As he strode, unannounced, into his office the next morning, freshly shaven and ready to roll his sleeves up, Daniel told himself how good it was to be back. Millicent, Warren Architects’ superefficient silver-haired receptionist, greeted him with a broad, denture-filled smile. Blair, his personal assistant, pushed back her chair and gaped as he breezed by and bade her good-morning. He strode into his massive, sparsely furnished office that provided a magical view of the Chrysler Building—one of the finest in the city—and let out a satisfied sigh.
The spat with Elizabeth hadn’t been pleasant. He wished they’d parted on better terms. But there was no use dwelling on it. Nothing could be done about it. He was right to have left and now that he was home where he belonged, he’d stay away. No question.
Daniel settled in his high-backed leather chair, steepled his fingers under his chin and studied the panorama, courtesy of a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. The smell of doughnuts and coffee, of hard work and success…
Knuckles rapping on wood had Daniel snapping forward in his seat. Rand had cracked open his office door.
“Heard you were in. You ready to be bombarded?”
Daniel slapped his palms on his glass-plated desk. “Fire away.”
They crossed to one of the drafting tables and Rand rolled out a drawing. Daniel slipped on his glasses and scanned the details at the same time Rand gave a summary of how he’d incorporated his boss’s ideas.
After half an hour of discussing matters like budget, safety regulations and material availability, Daniel removed his glasses and patted his friend on the back.
“Well done.”
“I’ll get to work on the model. When do we head back down? The Cattleman’s Club Grand Poobahs get together next week to have a look, right?”
“Why don’t we just transfer images to 3-D software? There’s no need for you guys to join me for the presentation this time.” A quick in and out was what was needed.
Rand leaned back against the table. “You plan to spend more time with your lady friend?”
“Not this trip.” Daniel rolled up the drawing and admitted, “Not anytime in the future, actually.”
Rand frowned. “You two had a falling-out?”
“More of a time to move on scenario.”
Daniel crossed to his desk, leaving Rand to shake his head.
“Goes to show. I’ve seen you with women before but, from the little I saw, I honestly thought you and Elizabeth Milton looked right.”
Without diverting his attention from the papers he’d dragged out, Daniel issued a thin smile. “Goes to show.”
Rand wandered over. “I thought you mentioned you two were going away for a couple of days.”
Daniel kept his head down. “Yep. Did that.”
Rand swung a hip over the corner of the desk. After a few moments, Daniel looked up.
“What?”
“You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?”
Appalled, Daniel pushed the papers away. “I have not.”
Rand grinned. “Have to.”
Growling, Daniel rolled back his chair and strode to his view of the Chrysler. His inspiration. Since he’d decided to make architecture his life, he’d dreamed of imagining a building that would have that much impact. Dignity, durability.
Daniel blew out a weary breath.
But when it came down to it, any building was only so much brick and mortar.
“Even if I had fallen for her,” Daniel began, still peering out over Manhattan, “there’s no future.”
“You’re afraid of committing?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “There’s that. But we come from different worlds. Or rather we’ve chosen different worlds. She won’t give up hers and I sure as hell won’t be giving up mine.”
Although he understood Elizabeth’s situation, she’d been given her lifestyle. On the other hand, after he’d turned his back on his parents’ bribes, he’d slogged it out and had done it on his own. He regretted not a day. More importantly, he intended to keep everything he’d earned. New York City was more than his home. It held his soul. Like Milton Ranch held Elizabeth’s.
He glanced over. Rand was trying to rub away his grin.
“Did I say something funny?”
Rand showed an index finger and thumb a smidgen apart. “Maybe a tad.”
Daniel strode back. “This had better be good.”
“You sound like a kid in a sandbox. I’m not giving up my ball,” he said in a singsongy tone, “if she doesn’t give up hers.”
Rand was a friend. A good one. He was someone Daniel listened to. But in this situation Rand was wrong.
“This isn’t a game.”
“That’s not for me to say.” Rand’s expression sobered. “And if you two can’t compromise then it is best you each take your ball and go home.”
“Okay.” Daniel threw up his hands. “Enough with the home and the balls and me not being mature enough to handle this.”
“So, what do you plan to do about it?”
“Nothing.”
Rand deadpanned. “Nothing.”
“If Elizabeth and I were together, if I were to, you know—”
“Propose?”
“Yeah.” He scratched behind his ear. “That. Even if we could work out the distance situation, she’d want a family.” He thought of the commitment she’d made for her dead parents. About the money she handed over to help mothers and children in need. “Family’s huge with her.”
As he sat back behind his desk, heavily this time, an image of Jonas flashed in his mind. Daniel winced. It really was all too hard. Too late.
“Looks like you’ve got a lot to think over,” Rand said.
Daniel scowled. “I was done thinking until you walked in.”
His assistant winked and added, “You’re welcome,” before he shut the door behind him, leaving Daniel to close his eyes and try to s
ee past the shell he’d built around himself.
After a few minutes, his focus dropped to his bottom drawer and his heart began to hammer at the same time beads of sweat broke out across the back of his neck. Gaze still on that drawer, he scrubbed his jaw, his damp nape. Another few beats and he bent and jerked open the drawer before he could chicken out and change his mind.
His hand shook slightly as fingers dug beneath piles of rarely perused documents and came in contact with something smooth, cool and flat that hadn’t seen the light of day in a decade.
Daniel brought the photograph higher and forced himself to absorb the image that sent bittersweet emotion rising in his chest to his throat.
Two boys smiled up at him, one a head taller than the other, their arms slung around the other’s shoulders. Daniel looked at the younger boy…his white smile, dark hair, his innocent air, a splash of blue paint on his tee.
Daniel’s throat convulsed and he swallowed.
Not a day went by that he didn’t miss his little brother. Not a day when he didn’t try to block the hurt that waited for moments just like this to leap up and tackle him until he didn’t want to get up and face that reality again.
He set the photo on the desk, placed a palm over the image, closed his eyes and prayed that his brother could somehow… feel him. If he ever had a son of his own, would he, Daniel Warren, look like Jonas? Would he be a good father? A good husband?
Was there any chance of him and Elizabeth making it to the next step, and the next? What if they did the “marriage and family” thing and failed…failed badly? He wasn’t frightened of much, but, as God was his witness, that possibility scared the life out of him. Maybe he was a coward, maybe he was running, but at least he didn’t have to explain himself to anyone.
Elizabeth was not counting down the days.
She knew the Cattleman’s Club members were meeting this afternoon to view Daniel’s design, but only because Abigail hadn’t quit reminding her this past week since she’d returned from that magical island…from her all too short romantic escape. For a long time afterward, all she’d been able to think about was how she had wanted to visit there with Daniel again.
Not happening, Elizabeth reminded herself as she gave Ame’s neck an extra brisk brush. She was home, holding it together, and that was that.
On a positive note, she’d finally sorted out her position with Chad, and if he was hurt or angry with her for truly standing up for herself, he’d simply have to get used to it. She’d also been in touch with the shelter. Feeling restless, she’d thought there must be something more she could do to help her community’s families in need. Summer Franklin, the director at the Helping Hands Shelter, had been beside herself with gratitude and ideas.
And then there was Daniel.
For the thousandth time, a vision of him laughing and chasing her in the sea bubbled up in her mind. When an area beneath her ribs panged, Elizabeth set her cheek against Ame’s warm neck and, staring blindly at the stall door, allowed herself a moment to reflect. To feel.
She’d been sorry to see him go. Actually the emotion was more like devastated. When he’d walked out that day, burning tears had been horrifyingly close to falling. After having her say, which she stood by still, she’d been so near weakening, making a damn fool of herself and begging him not to go.
But the more time that went by, Elizabeth thought as she went to find an apple for Ame, the stronger she felt about agreeing not to see her charming architect again. They’d had fun together—incredible, wonderful times. That didn’t mean, given their circumstances, that would continue. Daniel would not abide traipsing back and forth between North and South as he’d been forced to do when he was a child. He didn’t want to live outside Manhattan and she was committed to the Lone Star State.
As Ame chomped into the fruit she held out for him, Elizabeth set her jaw. A year from now, she could be back into study, have visited Australia. Who knows? Perhaps she’d have even found a new love interest. Although she couldn’t see anyone measuring up to Daniel.
Her heart dropped.
For the life of her, she couldn’t envisage being with anyone again.
Ricquo stuck his head in the stall. “Sorry to interrupt. Mr. Tremain is here to see you.”
Elizabeth groaned. She was tempted to take the coward’s way out, shake a quieting finger at Ricquo and mime, Tell him I’m not here. But she was interested to know why Chad had come. If he thought her threat of legal action had been an empty one, he was mistaken. She could take a lot, just don’t rub it in.
Chad appeared outside the stall. In jeans and chambray button-down, he looked ready to jump into a saddle. He sent over a warm smile.
“No need to panic. I’m not here on business. It’s a personal matter I’ve come to see you about.”
She edged forward. “Is something wrong?”
“I thought you might want a lift into town. You know the Cattleman members are meeting today. Don’t you want to be there to congratulate Abigail if that new clubhouse design gets the thumbs-up?”
Touched—knowing he was sincere—Elizabeth picked up the brush again.
“That is kind of you. But I told Abigail we’d meet for a drink afterward.”
“You don’t want to see Daniel Warren before he leaves again? I have it on good authority he’ll only be here for the length of the meeting. If the design goes through he’s putting on a project manager to oversee everything he’d have been involved with during construction.”
Her midsection twisted until she bit her lip to distract herself from the pain. So he didn’t even want to spend work-related time here. He wanted to avoid her that much. She gave Ame another swift brush, and another. Well, that was fine by her.
But then her gaze met Chad’s again and she frowned.
“Why are you telling me this?”
He gave a hapless shrug. “I want to see you happy. Always have.”
The look on his face made her chest squeeze. “I thank you for that. But my happiness doesn’t lie in that direction.” She admitted, “Daniel and I had a disagreement.”
“I heard. Not too many secrets get kept in Royal.” He reached into his suede jacket’s breast pocket and withdrew an envelope. “This is for you.”
She stopped brushing and came forward when he set it on the stall door ledge.
“What’s this?”
“Something,” he said, “that could make all the difference.”
Back in Royal thirty minutes, Daniel stood up at the back of the Cattleman’s Club meeting room, waiting for his cue.
It felt strange being in this town again. Stranger knowing he’d be here for only an hour or so. Elizabeth Milton was only a short drive away and he’d made up his mind he would not give in to the temptation to go to her, to see her again. He’d discussed it with Rand that day. He’d been pulled every which way since. But when all the smoke blew away, he was left with the same reality.
No matter how much they enjoyed each other’s company, how well suited they might be in so many ways, the obstacles separating them were simply too great to surmount. He was not and never would be into long-distance relationships. And she had a ranch to keep.
Shaking himself, Daniel pricked his ears. Abigail was addressing the room, which was filled with low-toned murmurings and curious gazes.
“You all know my friend and leading New York architect, Daniel Warren,” Abigail began. “Daniel agreed to come down today to show us his new design.” Rumblings went up. So did Abigail’s hands. “Some of you aren’t sold on the idea of a new headquarters. Some of you aren’t happy with the recent changes to membership, which allow me to address you today.” She spoke over their elevated voices. “But I’ll ask you to remember the club’s creed and today put your hospitality and goodwill before misgivings.”
Abigail looked around and when she was satisfied the mob would play nice, she tossed back her long red hair, stepped aside and waved her guest up to the head of the table.
“Gentlemen, Daniel Warren.”
A reasonable amount of applause filtered through the room. Daniel smiled and bowed his head and told himself he’d had tougher audiences. But not much.
He ran a finger and thumb down his tie and began.
“In the short time I’ve known Royal,” he said, “I’ve come to appreciate a little of what this community, and particularly this club, holds dear. Great pride built on great challenges has helped build these walls. I understand those who aren’t ready to cheer on what they might see as the destruction of a symbol of those virtues.”
He noted the few grunts of assent, even approval, took a breath and went on.
“I hope what I show you today will not only prompt you to remember the stoic roots from which this club has flourished, but also inspire you to glimpse a future that builds upon what’s already remarkable and celebrated here.”
Daniel nodded to Abigail. When the lights dimmed, he hit a button on his laptop keyboard and a three-dimensional lifelike image faded up on the giant portable screen behind him.
“This design encompasses everything erstwhile but also welcomes the fresh and the new.”
As the color image rotated from an aerial view, highlighting the rounded snaking roof that followed the lines of a steer’s horn, Daniel grinned to hear several murmurs of endorsement. The image faded into interior aspects, showing the black opal areas.
“All the favorite rooms of the club have been retained…the dining room, the library, conference room, cinema, theater, and all the sport facilities. But each section of the horns will reflect upon the Texas soldier jewel legend. The story of a brave young man returning after that war, his saddlebag filled with priceless, meaning-filled gems, inspired the founders of this organization. Directed your creed. The Cattleman Club’s plaque, extolling the qualities of Leadership, Justice and Peace will retain its pride of place above the entrance door.”
He gave the crowd a few minutes to digest the feel of the projected images, which were accompanied by scaled drawings, and when the screen returned to exterior points of view, he spoke again.
“In keeping with the club’s progression into gender integration—” he ignored the grunts “—I propose to utilize the semicircular space left by the concave angle of each horn in fitting ways. One space will house a statue of a cattleman on horseback accompanied by his cattlewoman, also in the saddle. The other side will house a playground, complete with a sitter, should any future female members wish to leave their children to exercise in the sunshine while they conduct business.”