“I always admired your strength.”
Her gaze met his, and in those blue depths, he saw surprise and a small glimmer of gratitude.
She laughed, and the deep, throaty sound filled the interior of the car. Talbot realized how rarely in their past he’d heard her laugh.
“I don’t know whether it’s strength or stupidity and more than my share of stubbornness.” She raked a hand through her hair, causing it to ripple across her shoulder.
Her smile faded and once again the tiny wrinkle appeared on her forehead. “Talbot, I told you the other night that I grew up in foster care. I had some terrific foster parents and some not-so-terrific foster families, but in my entire youth, there was never any sense of permanence or family.”
Again she raked her hand through her hair, lifting the cascade of honey-colored silk. “When I got pregnant, I swore to myself that my child would have the family I hadn’t had—a mother and a father and perhaps a few siblings. The death of that dream was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to face.”
He nodded and redirected his attention to his driving. He wondered what thoughts whirled around in her head. Did she still love Richard? Did she regret leaving him? If Richard wanted reconciliation, would she agree to it? Would she be willing to give him a second chance to find the happiness she’d once sought?
He dismissed his musings, knowing it was really none of his business what she thought or felt. She was his ex-sister-in-law, and their only real tie anymore was her son, his nephew.
Still, suddenly Talbot wanted the frown on her forehead to be gone. He wanted to hear her laugh again, see her eyes sparkle and shine. A heavy pall had fallen over the conversation, and he searched his mind for a way to lighten things up.
“It wasn’t all bad,” she said, as if she’d read his mind and was also attempting to lighten the mood. She flashed him a smile. “Remember the picnic we had for Andrew’s third birthday?”
He felt the answering smile that curved his lips. It had been a magical day. The weather had cooperated, providing one of those early-spring days where not a hint of winter lingered and the air smelled of the promise of summer. The food had been delicious, Andrew had been charming, as only a three-year-old can be, and Richard had played the role of father and husband beautifully.
“What was the name of your date that day?” she asked, her eyes twinkling wickedly. “Cinnamon? Sugar?”
“Honey,” he replied, although he knew she probably remembered the name very well. He laughed and shook his head wryly.
“She was quite stunning.”
He nodded. “Yes, she was.”
Elizabeth’s smile grew more wicked. “And she was so innovative in her dress for a picnic. Who would have thought of wearing spike heels, a leather miniskirt and a bustier to a birthday party for a three-year-old?”
“She’s the only woman I’ve ever met who thought pâté was the bald spot on top of an old man’s head.”
He was rewarded with her laughter. Rich and throaty, it filled the car, and he joined in as each memory called on another one of that crazy, glorious day.
“Every time she leaned over to look at the cake, I was afraid her, uh, assets might spill out,” Elizabeth continued.
Talbot laughed again. “I don’t know what was worse, her bending over to look at the cake or trying to play Frisbee in those shoes.”
“She might not have been overly bright, but I’m sure she had a good heart,” Elizabeth defended her.
“No, she didn’t,” he protested. “She thought children were ‘yucky’ and animals were dirty and believed a humanitarian award should go to Coco Chanel for finally coming up with clothing that women with breasts could wear.”
“Still, it was a nice party, wasn’t it? Did you date her much after that day?”
“That was my first and last date with the lovely Honey. I liked her fine until she talked, and unfortunately the lovely Honey loved to talk.”
Elizabeth laughed again, then sobered and he could feel her gaze on him. “Why haven’t you married, Talbot?”
Because the woman I wanted was already taken by my brother. He shoved the unwanted thought aside. “I don’t know. I’ve been so busy building the business, I haven’t taken much time for romance. Besides, I think I’m probably best alone.”
“Nobody is best alone,” she protested softly.
He glanced at her sharply. “What about you? Why haven’t you remarried?”
She emitted a dry laugh. “Who has time? Besides, I’m not alone. I have Andrew. Between work and all of Andrew’s activities, I meet myself coming and going.”
Talbot focused on the road again. They had reached the city limits of Kansas City, and traffic had become thick. He wanted to protest, to tell her that a son wasn’t the same as a man in her life.
Instead, they both fell silent as Talbot battled the traffic, tried to concentrate on his driving and not on Elizabeth.
With the women Talbot had dated in the past, he’d always found that familiarity did, indeed, breed contempt. But with Elizabeth, it seemed to be breeding something quite different.
The car accident his parents had when he’d been twenty-one had stolen his mother’s life instantly, but his father had lingered for two long days in the hospital. “Promise me,” he had said as Talbot gripped his hand and begged him to fight for life. “Promise me you’ll always take care of Richard. He’s not strong like you.”
And Talbot had promised. Even before his parents’ deaths, there had been times when Talbot felt more like Richard’s father than a brother.
As Talbot wheeled into the apartment complex where Elizabeth lived, he pushed aside thoughts of the past.
He pulled up before her building and stopped the engine, surprised by the vague sense of disappointment that seeped through him. “Guess the adventure is over,” he said.
“Yeah, guess so.” For a moment, he thought he heard the same disappointment he felt in her voice. “Are you coming inside?”
“No. I need to get home, and you need to talk to Richard.” He got out of the car as she did the same. He grabbed her suitcase from the back seat and handed it to her, then walked with her partway to her door.
“Thanks for taking care of me, Talbot,” she said.
He smiled. “I didn’t take care of you. If you were in the woods by yourself for a week, my bet would be on you.”
“Still, it was nice not to be alone…to have somebody with me during the darkness.” A slight blush stained her cheeks, and God help him, he wanted to reach out and stroke her skin.
It was an ache deep within him, the need to touch her one last time. “Just tell Richard I’ll see him back in Morning View.” He bent forward to give her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek.
He wasn’t sure what happened—whether he aimed wrong or she turned her head at the last moment—but suddenly his lips were on hers.
The kiss was no more than the mere touching of lips, but Elizabeth felt the power of the intimate connection right down to her toes. His mouth, which always appeared rather stern and forbidding, was in reality soft and sensual and filled with heat.
However, before she had time to respond in any way, he released her, turned on his heel and stalked away.
As Elizabeth watched him get into the car, she raised a trembling hand to her lips where the imprint of his mouth felt like a brand.
He’d kissed her. Talbot McCarthy had kissed her. Why on earth had he done it? What had prompted him to kiss her?
His car pulled out of the parking area and disappeared from sight. She stared after it for a long moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
She turned to go into her apartment, confusion whirling inside her. The kiss had been so unexpected. And what confused her more than anything was the knowledge that someplace deep inside her, she’d wanted him to kiss her, again and again.
Andrew greeted her at the door, banishing any other thoughts from her head. He gave her an exuberant hug, and for a l
ong moment Elizabeth clung to her son, grateful that everything had turned out well and everyone was all right.
“Elizabeth, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Richard said as he rose from the sofa. “Where’s Talbot?”
“He headed on to Morning View,” she replied. “He said he’d see you there.” Elizabeth looked at the man she had married so long ago.
Richard wasn’t as striking or as potently male as his brother, but he was a pleasantly handsome man, with warm brown eyes that had always sparkled with boyish enthusiasm and a mischievous glint. At the moment neither the glint nor the spark was apparent. His eyes held a somberness Elizabeth had never seen before.
“Dad made pot roast,” Andrew said. “With carrots and potatoes.”
“He did?” Elizabeth looked at Richard in surprise. “I didn’t know you knew how to do a roast.”
Richard shrugged. “Andrew can’t eat junk food all the time when he’s with me. It isn’t good for him.”
Elizabeth stared at him, wondering when a pod person had replaced Richard. The man she’d known for the past ten years had never worried about the effects of junk food on himself or his son.
“That sounds marvelous,” she finally said, and realized the meal with Talbot had been hours ago and she was hungry again.
“It’s ready when you are,” Richard replied.
“Just let me go wash up and I’ll be ready.” Elizabeth went into the bathroom. Richard had cooked a pot roast and Talbot had kissed her. This had to be the strangest day of her life.
For a moment she stared at her reflection in the mirror, surprised to find her lips weren’t swollen or red. There was no lingering indication of Talbot’s kiss other than the burning memory of his mouth against hers.
She sluiced her face with water, hoping the cool liquid would banish the heat of that memory, the taste of him. Why had he kissed her? And, more importantly, why had she wanted him to?
The moment had obviously been one of those anomalies of nature, an uncharacteristic act between two people who had shared an unusual or life-threatening situation. She’d heard of such things—people making love in the midst of disaster, kissing strangers when a stressful situation was over.
They had narrowly escaped death when the plane had gone down, had shared two nights and days together, lost in the woods. Reaching the apartment complex had indicated an end to the drama, and surely that was what had prompted the kiss. It had really meant nothing to him, and she certainly didn’t intend to make anything of it.
She dried her face, then left the bathroom and went into the kitchen where Andrew and Richard were already seated at the table.
The dinner conversation remained pleasant and light. Andrew told her everything they had seen while in the tiny town of Twin Oaks. When he mentioned the swimming hole again, he added, “Dad said sometimes they would go skinny-dipping!”
Elizabeth fought the image that filled her mind—that of a naked, dripping-wet Talbot emerging from a sparkling pond.
“That must have been the pond where the farmer would chase you with a shotgun,” she said to Richard.
“Really?” Andrew looked from his mother to his father.
Richard looked at her in surprise. “Talbot must have told you that.”
“There isn’t a lot to do other than talk when you’re lost in the woods for two days,” she explained.
Funny, she thought as they continued the meal, she’d confessed to Talbot her fear of the dark, something she’d never told anyone before, something she hadn’t even shared with the man she’d been married to for nine years.
She focused her attention back on Andrew, who was now telling her about seeing the house where his father had lived as a young boy.
Elizabeth knew the McCarthys had lived in Twin Oaks until Talbot was twenty and Richard thirteen.
At the time, their father was making more money than any of them had ever imagined from his small computer business, and the family had built a dream mansion in Morning View, Kansas, and moved in.
The family had lived there only a year before Keith and Maggie McCarthy were tragically killed on the way home from a business trip, leaving behind a thriving business and two sons to pick up the pieces.
It wasn’t until much later, after the dinner dishes had been washed and put away and Andrew was in bed, that Elizabeth and Richard sat at the table with cups of coffee to talk.
“You’ve been unusually quiet,” Elizabeth observed. “Is something on your mind?”
Richard twirled his spoon in his coffee to dissolve the sugar he’d added, a small frown creasing his broad forehead. “Actually, I do have something to talk to you about.” He set his spoon down, leaned back and sighed.
A wave of apprehension swept through Elizabeth. She’d never seen Richard this way, so somber, so serious. “What is it, Richard? What’s going on?”
He seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking. “For the last couple of months, I’ve been having problems with headaches and dizziness and blurred vision. I thought maybe I needed glasses, so I went to an eye doctor, but he didn’t find anything wrong.”
Elizabeth’s apprehension increased as he broke his gaze from hers and picked up his spoon to stir his coffee yet again. She noticed his fingers trembled slightly, and the spoon clattered once again to the table.
“Richard, you’re scaring me,” she said, and reached out to take his hand in hers. “Just tell me straight out. What’s going on?”
“I have a tumor.”
The words hung in the air, and for a moment Elizabeth prayed desperately that she’d misunderstood them. “A tumor?” she echoed faintly as his fingers squeezed hers tightly.
“A brain tumor.”
Elizabeth now didn’t know if it was his fingers trembling or her own. Emotion welled up inside her, filling her throat and stinging her eyes. She willed it away, knowing that Richard would draw his strength from hers.
It had always been like that between them. Elizabeth held Richard together, and when he did fall apart, she had always been the one to put the pieces back together.
She swallowed hard, seeking and finding control. “Have you told Talbot?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll talk to him when I get back home tonight.”
“Okay.” She pulled her hand from his, swallowed again to clear away her emotion and straightened her shoulders. “Okay, you have a brain tumor. So, what’s the prognosis?”
“If I don’t do anything…eventually it will probably kill me.” Richard got up from his chair, as if he was unable to sit still another moment. He paced the floor in front of her for a minute, then stopped and looked at her.
In the depths of his eyes, she saw his fear, and a fear of her own swept through her. Despite the divorce, in spite of the fact that Richard could never be the right man for Elizabeth and he had caused her a wealth of tears throughout their marriage, she cared about him.
He shared a big piece of her past, was the father of her son and, for these reasons alone, would always own a tiny section of her heart.
“The doctor wants to do surgery,” Richard said. “According to him, the tumor is in a place where he is fairly confident he can get it all.”
“Then you’ll have the surgery,” Elizabeth said with a matter-of-factness she didn’t feel.
“Easy for you to say. They aren’t talking about cutting into your head.”
“It doesn’t sound to me like you have any other option,” she replied. She stood and walked over to him. Again she reached for his hand. “Richard, you have to do what the doctor says is for the best. If you don’t do it for yourself, then do it for Andrew. He needs you as his father, and he’s going to continue to need you for a very long time to come.”
“Yeah, some father I’ve been.” His voice held a heavy dose of self-condemnation.
“You’ve always been a good father,” she protested.
He grinned, knowing she was being generous. His grin was a flash of something comfortable
and familiar. “I’m a good father when I take the time to remember I’m a father.”
She nodded, a lump growing large in her throat. “And that’s why you have to have the surgery.”
“I know.” He stepped away from her. “And I’m going to have it. I’ve done a lot of thinking since getting the diagnosis.” Again he flashed his boyish smile. “There’s nothing like a little brain tumor for making a person reevaluate his priorities.”
His smile faded. “I haven’t spent enough time with Andrew. I haven’t told him so many things I want him to know, important things that only a father can tell a son. I suddenly feel like I don’t have any time left.”
“You have years and years left,” Elizabeth said fervently.
“I won’t lie to you, Elizabeth. I’m scared.”
She fought the impulse to wrap him in her arms. She could offer him her strength, but knew Richard would ultimately have to find a well of strength within himself to meet the challenge ahead.
“You’re going to have that surgery, and they are going to get every bit of that tumor. You’re going to teach Andrew how to drive a car, and tell him all about girls, and be there when he makes you a grandfather.”
He nodded, and studied her for a long moment. “I have a favor to ask you. I want Andrew to come and stay with me and Talbot in Morning View for the next couple of weeks.”
A protest formed on Elizabeth’s lips, but Richard held up a hand. “I want you there, too. I know Andrew hasn’t really spent enough time alone with me to be comfortable without you around for that length of time. I want some time with my family before I go into surgery.”
“Oh, Richard. I don’t think that’s such a good idea—”
“Please, Elizabeth. It would mean so much to me.”
His gaze bore into hers, and she’d never felt so torn. She wanted to be there for Richard, not because she loved him as a woman loves a man, but rather as a dear friend. He was Andrew’s father, and she wanted to support him, be there for him.
And yet…her mouth still burned from the fire of Talbot’s unexpected kiss, and the thought of staying in the McCarthy home with the two brothers caused her head to throb with tension.
Lost in His Arms Page 5