Paper Rose

by Diana Palmer

  Matt was deeply touched that his estranged son would come to him for advice. He wasn’t going to let it show, of course. A man had his pride. “I see.”

  Tate got up and jammed his hands into his pockets, pacing to the window that looked out over the countryside. He pulled the heavy curtain aside and looked out through the elegant white Priscillas that framed the picture window. “I don’t know what to do. She left here convinced that I had plans to marry Audrey.”

  Matt turned in his chair, staring at the long, lean back. “I guess you know by now that Audrey gave the press quite a mouthful of information about Cecily and the so-called Christmas wedding. And she was wearing a ring like the one you have.”

  Tate glanced at it and turned with a frown. “You noticed this ring in your office that day. Why?”

  “Your mother gave it to me the night before I told her I was married,” he said heavily. “I gave it back to her. She wears one like it, you know.”

  So that was the mystery of the ring, Tate thought, staring at it. No wonder it had caught Matt’s eye when he’d first seen it on Tate’s finger.

  “Cecily knows about Audrey’s ring,” Matt added. “And it’s hard to miss that you’ve been photographed with her in all the best tabloids lately.”

  Tate’s jaw worked. “She engineered most of them. Not all. I was pretty hot at everyone for a while, and she was my ego salve. Now I’m sorry I ever started anything with her. She was tenacious as all hell. Especially now I’m so newsworthy.”

  “You and the rest of us,” Matt agreed with a long sigh. “It’s been a hell of a media blitz, hasn’t it? But the criminals are all facing tough jail sentences, and Tom Black Knife is back in power, where he belongs. The Rico statute was used to confiscate the funds they’d drained from the tribal treasury, and it’s going to be replaced. But Tom’s situation took some sleight of hand, let me tell you! I still don’t know where Colby dug up that eyewitness to the old murder who was able to clear him of the charges.”

  “Don’t ask, either,” Tate mused. “Colby’s resourceful, I’ll give him that.”

  “You used to be good friends.”

  “We were, until he started hanging around Cecily,” came the short reply. “I’m not as angry at him as I was. But it seems that he has to have a woman to prop him up.”

  “Not necessarily,” Matt replied. “Sometimes a good woman can save a bad man. It’s an old saying, but fairly true from time to time. Colby was headed straight to hell until Cecily put him on the right track. It’s gratitude, but I don’t think he can see that just yet. He’s in between mourning his ex-wife and finding someone to replace her.” He leaned back again. “I feel sorry for him. He’s basically a one-woman man, but he lost the woman.”

  Tate paced back to the wing chair and sat down on the edge. “He’s not getting Cecily. She’s mine, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”

  Matt stared at him. “Don’t you know anything about women in love?”

  “Not a lot,” the younger man confessed. “I’ve spent the better part of my life avoiding them.”

  “Especially Cecily,” Matt agreed. “She’s been like a shadow. You didn’t miss her until you couldn’t see her behind you anymore.”

  “She’s grown away from me,” Tate said. “I don’t know how to close the gap. I know she still feels something for me, but she wouldn’t stay and fight for me.” He lifted his gaze to Matt’s hard face. “She’s carrying my child. I want both of them, regardless of the adjustments I have to make. Cecily’s the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted.”

  Matt spread his hands helplessly. “This is one mess I can’t help you sort out,” he said at last. “If Cecily loves you, she’ll give in sooner or later. If it were me, I’d go find her and tell her how I really felt. I imagine she’ll listen.”

  Tate stared at his shoes. He couldn’t find the right words to express what he felt.

  “Tate,” his father said gently, “you’ve had a lot to get used to lately. Give it time. Don’t rush things. I’ve found that life sorts itself out, given the opportunity.”

  Tate’s dark eyes lifted. “Maybe it does.” He searched the other man’s quiet gaze. “It’s not as bad as I thought it was, having a foot in two worlds. I’m getting used to it.”

  “You still have a unique heritage,” Matt pointed out. “Not many men can claim Berber revolutionaries and Lakota warriors as relatives.”

  “My middle name,” Tate said suddenly. “Who was I named for?”

  “My father,” Matt said with pride. “He was related to the royal family of Morocco. His wife, my mother,” he clarified, “was the granddaughter of a member of the French aristocracy.”

  “Do you have any photographs of them?” Tate asked.

  “Two albums full,” the older man said with a grin. “When your mother comes home, we’ll drag them out after supper and have a look.” He pursed his lips. “You might go and bring Cecily home. Maybe she’d like to see them, too.”

  Tate hesitated. “I’ll have to go to Tennessee.”

  “I guess you will. Want some coffee?”

  “Sure.” He liked the fact that his father didn’t persist. He liked the quick temper that was over almost as soon as it was provoked. He even liked the way the older man handled himself. He was beginning to feel pride in his father. He didn’t realize that the other man was feeling the same thing.

  They were drinking coffee and still talking when Leta came home with a shopping bag. She stopped in the doorway of the living room and hesitated there, gnawing her lower lip.

  The change in her was phenomenal, Tate thought, rising to greet her. She looked happy, radiant, years younger. Until then he hadn’t realized what a difference Matt Holden had made in her life. It became clear at once.

  “I came for supper,” Tate lied, smiling at her.

  Leta put the shopping bag down and glanced at Matt, who grinned at her. She made an effort at smiling. “It’s nice to have you here,” she said finally.

  Tate took her small hands in his, noting how cold they were. He greeted her in Lakota and bent to kiss her soft cheek. “I am happy when I see you,” he said.

  She burst into tears and threw her arms around him. “I thought we weren’t ever going to speak again!”

  He had to fight back the wetness in his own eyes. He hugged her close and kissed her hair tenderly. She’d endured so much for him, when he was small. There was no way he could ever repay that sacrifice. He was deeply sorry that he’d been harsh with her. “I just had to get used to the idea,” he said. “But I have. It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right now,” he assured her. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Except that Cecily’s pregnant,” Matt Holden offered, grinning at Tate’s exasperated glare and Leta’s shocked gasp.

  “What do you mean, Cecily’s pregnant?” Leta burst out. She hit her son’s arm with her open hand. She hit him again. “You hooligan, how could you! How could you?”

  Tate defended himself with both arms. “How do you know it was me?” he teased.

  “Who else could it be?” Leta raged. “Do you think my baby would let another man touch her? Would she jump into bed with any other man in the world except you? Are you crazy?”

  Tate actually looked sheepish, and there was a new light in his eyes. Matt, after contemplating the two of them for a minute, sauntered off into the general direction of the kitchen, leaving mother and son alone together for the first time since the tempest had started.

  Tate stuck his hands into his pockets and stared down at his pretty little mother. “If you haven’t finished hitting me, I think there’s a spot or two you missed,” he pointed out, touching his arm and grimacing. He smiled. “At least we’re speaking again.”

  “That was your decision,” she said gently. “You needed time to adjust to the truth.”

  He spoke after a minute. “It wasn’t easy at first, but it explains a lot about the past. I could never love Jack Winthrop and he couldn’t love me. Now
I understand why.”

  She sighed. “You were always a good son. I wanted so many times to tell you about Matt, but I knew what you were going to think of me when you learned the truth,” she said, dropping her gaze. “Matt would have loved you.”

  Tate was lost for words. That seemed to happen to him a lot lately. He took his mother by the shoulders and bent to kiss her forehead. “Don’t tell him I said this, because he’s arrogant enough as it is. But I would have loved him, too.”

  Leta hugged him hard. “What’s that saying about tangled webs?”

  He closed his arms around her with a smile of pure relief. “People get caught in them.” He smiled against her hair. “How do you like being a senator’s wife?”

  “I married Matt Holden. The senator part is taking some getting used to. But now when I talk at rallies or before congressional committees, by golly, they’ll listen to me!” she added on a chuckle. “Even if I live here, now, I can do a lot of good for our people back home.”

  He burst out laughing. “Does my father know you’re going to trade on your married name like that?”

  “Your father.” She repeated the words softly. “You don’t mind knowing about him, now?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve always admired him, even when I thought I disliked him.” He searched her face quietly. “He barely knew me when all this came up, but he did everything in his power to protect me, just the same. It makes me proud, to have a man like that for my father. So, no, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.”

  Matt, standing in the doorway, hearing those words from his son, had to turn around and go away until the wetness left his eyes. His son didn’t hate him. It was more than he deserved, probably, but there was a new warm place in his heart that was worth all the anguish of the past few weeks.

  “I’m glad you’re not still angry with me,” Leta told her tall son. She reached up and touched his short hair with a grimace. “You and Cecily,” she muttered. “Such beautiful hair, all whacked off.”

  “I was grieving,” he said simply.

  “So was she,” Leta told him. “You haven’t treated her in any honorable way. I know I’m one to talk, but I know better than either of you how it is to marry one man and love another and be pregnant with his child.” She searched his troubled eyes. “Colby wants to marry her, you know.”

  Tate’s eyes began to glitter. “In his dreams,” he said coldly. “The only man she’s marrying is me.”

  “Really?” She was delighted, but puzzled. “Audrey told her about the ring and the wedding dress…”

  “I told Audrey and the press that I don’t plan to marry her, regardless of rings and wedding dresses. Audrey has problems and it took me a while to figure out why she behaved the way she did.” He added quietly, “She’s going to spend some time in a drug treatment center drying out. Maybe they can do something for her. I’m sorry for her, but she really complicated things for me.”

  Leta felt almost weak with relief. “Cecily thought that since you know about your real heritage, marriage to a white woman might not be so distasteful to you,” she added. “And Audrey is cultured and quite beautiful.”

  He actually winced. “Cecily said something like that to me, when I told her that I hadn’t seen Audrey lately.” He looked, and was very troubled. “She’s got it into her head that I wouldn’t have wanted her, regardless of my heritage, because she wasn’t beautiful enough. That’s not true. I’ve made a real hash of things.”

  “Yes,” his mother said flatly. “And now Cecily’s pregnant and all alone.”

  “It gets worse. She was almost knocked down by a car while you were out of town on your honeymoon,” he said, his voice harsh with emotion.

  “When? Is she all right?” Leta was frantic.

  “She had a mild concussion and a sprained wrist. They kept her overnight for observation. She told them that she had no family living,” he added huskily. He drew in a long breath and smiled coolly. “You can’t imagine how that hurt.”

  “Yes, I can,” Leta replied. She moved to the sofa and sat down, watching her son drop into the wing chair he’d vacated earlier. “Are the two of you still speaking?”

  “She ran away,” he said through his teeth. “She thought I was marrying Audrey, so she gave up everything and moved out of town so that she and the baby wouldn’t interfere with my life.” He glanced at his mother. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

  Leta grimaced and put her face in her hands. “Oh, my poor Cecily!”

  “The really tragic part of it is that Audrey was never anything more than window dressing, someone I could use to…”

  “To?” his mother prompted, wiping her eyes.

  He looked at his clasped hands, at the big silver-and-turquoise ring that had once been Matt’s. “Cecily was getting to me,” he said. “I had to have a way to keep her at arm’s length. She kept her distance when I started going around with Audrey.”

  Leta looked worried. “Poor Cecily,” she said again.

  “I’ve been free to do what I pleased,” he said. “Travel, take dangerous jobs, take risks…I’ve never had to consider anyone except myself since I left home. I’ve been independent most of my adult life. I took responsibility for Cecily, but I did it from a distance, mostly. I didn’t want to share my life with anyone.”

  “You do seem to have gotten your wish,” Leta told him with disapproval in every line of her face.

  “It isn’t what I want now,” he said quietly. “I don’t mind giving up the more dangerous jobs, or my independence. I want my child,” he said simply. “I want Cecily. I only wish I could think of a way to make her realize it. I have to have some idea of what I’m going to say to her before I go barreling off to Tennessee after her. There’s too much at stake.”

  He got up, restless, worried, and went back to the window.

  Matt came back into the room, followed by the butler with a huge silver tray that held a silver coffeepot and the accompanying necessities.

  “Time out,” he called, motioning Tate back to his seat. “Coffee solves most problems, I’ve found. I’ve brought a full new pot.” He sat down on the sofa beside Leta and bent to kiss her with visible affection.

  Tate sat down, but reluctantly. He felt lost.

  His father looked at him with pleasure, noting their resemblances. He was sorry for Tate’s unhappiness, but that was a personal thing that the younger man would have to work through all on his own. He could advise, but he couldn’t really help.

  “Decided what you’re going to do?” he asked Tate softly.

  The younger man accepted a cup of black coffee from his mother and slowly shook his head.

  “You need a battle plan,” Matt advised. “I never left the base without detailed reconnaissance and a battle plan. It’s why I came home alive.”

  Tate chuckled in spite of himself. “She’s a woman, not an enemy stronghold.”

  “That’s what you think,” Matt said, pointing a spoon in the other man’s direction before he lowered it into his cup. “Most women are enemy strongholds,” he added, with a wicked glance at his smiling wife. “You have to storm the gates properly.”

  “He knows all about storming gates, apparently,” Leta said with faint sarcasm. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be expecting a grandchild…” She gasped and looked at Matt. “A grandchild. Our grandchild,” she emphasized with pure joy.

  Matt glanced at Tate. “That puts a whole new face on things, son,” he said, the word slipping out so naturally that it didn’t even seem to surprise Tate, who smiled through his misery.

  “You go to Tennessee and tell Cecily she’s marrying you,” Leta instructed her son.

  “Sure,” Tate said heavily. “After all the trouble I’ve given her in the past weeks, I’m sure she can’t wait to rush down the aisle with me.”

  “Honey catches more flies than vinegar,” Matt said helpfully.

  “If I go down there with any honey, I’ll come home wearing bees.”

  Leta ch
uckled.

  “You aren’t going to give up?” Matt asked.

  Tate shook his head. “I can’t. I have to get to her before Gabrini does, although I’m fairly sure he has no more idea where she really is than I did until today. I just have to find a new approach to get her back home. God knows what.” He sipped more coffee and glanced from one of his parents to the other. He felt as if he belonged, for the first time in his life. It made him warm inside to consider how dear these two people suddenly were to him. His father, he thought, was quite a guy. Not that he was going to say so. The man was far too arrogant already.

  Chapter Fifteen

  But if deciding to go to Tennessee and bring Cecily home was easy, doing it was not. Tate asked for a week off from Pierce Hutton, because he expected to have to work at getting her to come back, and he wasn’t leaving her in harm’s way alone.

  Pierce Hutton gave him a highly amused smile as they went over updated security information from the oil rig in the Caspian Sea.

  “So you’ve finally decided to do something about Cecily,” Pierce murmured. “It’s about time. I was beginning to get used to that permanent scowl.”

  Tate glanced at him wryly. “I thought I was doing a great job of keeping her at arm’s length. She’s pregnant, now, of course,” he volunteered.

  The older man chuckled helplessly. “So much for keeping her at arm’s length. When’s the wedding?”

  Tate’s smile faded. “That’s premature. She ran. I finally tracked her down, but now I have to convince her that I want to get married without having her think it’s only because of the baby.”

  “I don’t envy you the job,” Pierce replied, his black eyes twinkling. “I had my own rocky road to marriage, if you recall.”

  “How’s the baby these days?” he asked.

  Pierce laughed with wholehearted delight. “We watch him instead of television. I never expected fatherhood to make such changes in me, in my life.” He shook his head, with a faraway look claiming his eyes. “Sometimes I’m afraid it’s all a dream and I’ll wake up alone.” He shifted, embarrassed. “You can have the time off. But who’s going to handle your job while you’re gone?”