by Sara Orwig
“I’ve played ball, and those boys aren’t college-age or pros. That was easy enough.”
“I’ll have to admit, I don’t catch very well,” she said. “They’d just as soon I didn’t try. The tallest boy is my nephew Chris. I can call them over to introduce you.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to call Chris over. Here he comes,” Cal said.
The gangly boy loped toward them, blond curls a tangle over his forehead. “Hi,” he said, studying Cal with open curiosity. “You must be Mr. Duncan.”
“That’s right,” Cal said, offering his hand. “And you’re Chris.”
“Glad to meet you. Did you used to play ball?”
Cal nodded. “In college. Never pro. I had a baseball scholarship to Texas University.”
“Awesome!” Chris’s blue eyes sparkled and he rubbed a dusty finger along his jaw.
“It was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Gol, you’re still good for an old guy—”
“Chris!”
Cal laughed. “Thanks, Chris.”
“I gotta run—” Then the boy was gone, racing away to join the others, while Juliana looked up at Cal and shrugged.
“Sorry. He thinks anyone over eighteen is decrepit.”
“I’m sure.”
“They’re a handful. Sometimes I feel inadequate,” she said, staring across the yard. He followed her gaze and no- ticed a small boy curled in the fork of the tree.
“Which one is that?”
“Quin. And I am inadequate for him. I just can’t get through to him.”
“You must love all three to give your life over to them. That’ll get through to him sometime.”
Juliana heard a strange note in Cal’s voice and wondered about his childhood, but she walked beside him without asking questions.
When they reached the car, Cal held the door. Looking at the flash of her long, shapely legs, he felt his smoldering anger at Elnora dissipate, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to give himself a prison sentence.
As if trying to postpone an ordeal, Cal drove far more slowly than usual, his thoughts still churning. He turned on Main to take the highway to the outskirts of Garland on the east side of Dallas. He intended to get away from people they knew in Colby, to avoid constant interruptions through dinner. Details of the will would be in the public domain all too soon and they would have to live with everyone’s gos- sip about Elnora’s stipulations.
A short while later, he parked in a graveled lot filled with cars, and in minutes, they were seated in the secluded cor- ner of a rustic room. After ordering glasses of wine, Cal leaned back in his chair to study her. “Tell me about your nephews.”
“Chris is eleven, Quin is eight and Josh is five.”
“I understand you took them in two years ago when your sister died after a long illness and their father was killed in a plane crash. Tough luck.”
“I have a feeling you know everything about us,” Ju- liana said, wondering exactly how much he did know. “It was tough for the boys. Quin goes for counseling. Chris and Josh seem to have adjusted to the changes in their lives.”
“It was good of you to take them. I would have thought your mother would raise them.”
Juliana shook her head, thinking of her tall, thin mother. “Mom’s frail, and the boys make her nervous. It never would have worked. My dad would have been good with them, but he died years ago, when I was seventeen. Now Mom’s remarried and living in California, busy with her husband, Jerry, and her own life. I know Trish, my sister, would want them with me.”
“That’s generous.” Cal paused as the waitress returned for their order. After ordering two steaks, they were alone again. Juliana watched him sip dark red wine. His lashes were lowered as he looked down and she realized his thick, black lashes added to his sexy appeal. He glanced at her and she looked away quickly, embarrassed to be caught study- ing him.
“The conditions of Elnora’s will are going to come out in the Colby paper sometime soon,” he began. “In a town as small as Colby, there will be no secrets about Elnora’s will— or the marriage provision.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said with a slight frown. “I suppose you’re right. Will the public know about the size of the estate?”
“I’m sure they will. It has to be filed at the courthouse and reporters will print it. Do you know Wynn Barkley?”
“Only by name,” she answered. “I know he’s a Colby Sun reporter.” She had also heard Barkley loved gossip as much as he liked ferreting out stories. “I suppose I should tell the boys about the marriage stipulation.”
“You’ll have to answer their questions.”
“They may have a difficult time understanding,” she said, more to herself than to him, momentarily forgetting his presence as she worried about the boys’ reaction to learn- ing that she could have inherited a fortune. A shared for- tune. Would they understand why she couldn’t possibly marry a stranger?
She looked at him. “I can tell them you didn’t want to marry me,” she said lightly.
“They might try to talk me into it.”
She smiled, and Cal felt his pulse jump. It was a faint smile, friendly and warm, destroying the cool, aloof aura that seemed to surround her most of the time.
“I suppose it’s a good thing we got together tonight,” she remarked, “before the will is public knowledge. If we’re together afterward, rumors will fly. Do you date some- one?” Instantly, she shook her head. “Sorry, that’s none of my business—”
“I think it is your business. I date occasionally, but there’s no one special in my life. And there’s no one in yours.” He arched an eyebrow. “Why did you and Barry Fowler break up?”
Juliana felt a prickle of annoyance that Cal Duncan had checked so thoroughly into her life. She was tempted to tell him it was none of his business why she’d stopped dating Barry, but she realized it was reasonable for him to ask.
“We were about to be engaged. The trouble started when it looked like I would take my sister’s boys. Barry didn’t like that, and it became an obstacle between us. Barry got a promotion and a transfer to Cleveland. He wanted me to leave the boys with my mother or grandmother and go with him. And then I found out he was dating someone else and hadn’t told me. If you have a serious relationship with someone, you should be open and honest with the person and be able to trust him.”
“I’d say that was incredibly poor judgment on his part.”
Surprised, she stared at him. “Look, Mr. Duncan, why did you want to talk to me about Elnora’s will?”
Cal felt his palms grow damp. “You’re forthright,” he remarked, still mulling over her statement about honesty and trust and feeling twinges of guilt. He had no intention of telling her why he needed the money and killing all his chances of getting it. But his conscience nagged him for an- other reason. He had silently accused Juliana of being a gold digger, yet he was the mercenary one after money and she had three boys to support.
“I’m also curious,” she replied.
He sipped his wine and wished he had ordered a stronger drink. The idea of tying his life to three children made him break out in a sweat. He thought of his orderly life, his hours of riding and fishing and reading law books at night in his quiet house. His blessed solitude. And he thought of all the money involved. Elnora’s will had stipulated the marriage had to last a year and after that the money was theirs. One year was not forever. How disturbing could three boys be? He studied Juliana Aldrich. No difficulty there- she was good-looking, intelligent, and evidently he had misjudged her. Yet, she had fought off that bank robber, so money was important to some extent. But who was he to judge? He wouldn’t be considering Elnora’s will except for his own desperate need for the money.
He felt as if he were standing on the edge of a yawning abyss. “Juliana, the Siever estate is an enormous fortune that you and I could both use. You have three boys to raise. I need money for my practice,” he stat
ed, his conscience screaming at him for lying to her, when she’d said trust was important. “I think we should marry.”
Stunned, Juliana involuntarily jerked as she was lifting the glass of water to her mouth. It sloshed out and ice wa- ter spilled across the front of her dress. “Ahh!” She dabbed at her dress, her heart thudding. Even though she had an- ticipated this proposal ever since he’d asked her to dinner to discuss the will, she was still shocked to hear the words. Even after thinking all night about what a marriage to Caleb Duncan would mean, she still wasn’t sure of her answer.
“Your suggestion startled me. I don’t know that mar- riage would be feasible for us. We’re total strangers,” she said, her words tumbling together. He pushed aside his sil- verware and carefully moved the glass of wine. Then he leaned forward, his dark eyes leveling on hers. As she looked into their black depths, she shivered and knew he meant every word he’d said.
“You need money for the boys, don’t you?”
“Not that badly,” she answered, barely able to get out her reply. She felt imprisoned by his gaze, held by the invisible bonds of his will. Thoughts tumbled wildly in her head. He must be as greedy as sin.
“Elnora’s will specifies that the marriage has to last one year,” Cal said in a quiet voice that held a note of steel. “That’s only twelve months. I’ve known men to take a prison sentence for a longer time to get the kind of money we’re considering.”
“Marriage is just too impossible to contemplate,” she said, barely able to breathe, still unable to look away from him. Her heart drummed wildly.
“No, it’s not impossible,” he said in the same firm tone that brooked no argument. “There’s no man in your life.”
“I don’t need you to fill the void!” Something flickered in the depths of his eyes; if the moment had not been so tense, she would have suspected she saw amusement there. “You don’t lose cases, do you?”
“Not often,” he replied.
She shook her head, and with an effort of will, closed her eyes. There, she had broken free of his damnable, compel- ling gaze. Marriage. All that money for the boys. She gave a little shake and opened her eyes, carefully avoiding look- ing at him.
“It would be a marriage of convenience,” he stated qui- etly, as if he were reading the terms of a contract, and she realized that was probably how he thought about this.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing you correctly. I don’t even know you. How old are you?”
Again, she thought she saw a flash of amusement, but it was gone as swiftly as it had come. “Thirty-four. I went to Texas University on a baseball scholarship. I went on to law school. My parents live in Dallas and I’ll take you to meet them. I have a brother who is a car salesman and lives in Fort Worth, and we seldom see him. I’ve never been mar- ried-”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “I was engaged once, but we broke it off. It didn’t work out. I lead an ordinary life. I’m not abusive. I don’t smoke, drink excessively or chew tobacco.” He leaned forward again, the earnest look returning to his face. “We marry for one year and you can take care of your boys for the rest of their lives.”
The waitress appeared, and Cal leaned back against his chair. He became quiet while their steaks were served with fluffy baked potatoes and crisp strips of broccoli and car- rots.
Juliana’s stomach churned as she cut into the juicy steak. Images of Elnora’s list of assets danced in front of her eyes. The total amount of the Siever estate ran through her mind like an endless echo. Savoring the bite of steak, she care- fully avoided looking at Caleb Duncan. Marriage. Caleb Duncan actually wanted to marry her. A marriage of con- venience. Convenient for whom? He might not have bad habits, but he had to want money desperately.
Silence stretched between them, and as she ate, she con- tinued to avoid looking at him.
“We would live in Green Oaks,” he continued quietly. “The mansion is big enough that we wouldn’t get in each other’s way. There are seven bedrooms, five bathrooms.”
She looked up and realized he had already made a deci- sion about what he wanted to do. Butterflies danced crazily in her middle. “No mansion is big enough to keep three boys out of your way.”
His lips tightened. He must not like children, in spite of his easygoing manner with Chris earlier, she decided.
“Elnora was a hopeless matchmaker,” Juliana said, try- ing to push her concern aside. “Although she did introduce two couples who later married. The Kiplings, and Dale and Eva Jones.”
“Elnora believed that some people need a nudge, some- one to step into their lives and meddle a little because they’re too busy or too set in their ways to change,” he said.
“So, which are you—too busy or too set in your ways?”
Amusement was plain this time as a sparkle came to his eyes. “I’m thirty-four and single, so I guess I’m too set in my ways.”
“Give you a point for honesty.”
“And have I earned any other points?” he asked in a teasing voice. “Or all minuses?”
“No, you have points—you were very nice to Mimi, and you impressed Chris terribly.”
“I have the feeling the minuses still outweigh the pluses.”
She tilted her head in speculation, looking into his dark eyes. “No, there are some other pluses, although during the first hours in Mr. Mason’s office, the minuses were domi- nant. A mutual feeling, I’m sure.”
“Now, why do you say that?”
“You didn’t hide your animosity.”
“Elnora’s meddling in our lives got to me in a way things usually don’t. That’s a lot of money.”
“I remember when I worked for Elnora and occasionally would see you.” When he looked surprised, Juliana smiled. “And you paid no attention to me.”
“I should have had my eyes checked,” he replied lightly, giving her a direct, sexy look that sent those butterflies dancing in her middle again. Dangerous. The word flitted into her mind. Caleb Duncan was dangerous, she realized, because he was so appealing. One year in a sham mar- riage—and she might lose her heart for life. As for Caleb, he would go merrily on his way with his half of the fortune, plus her heart.
He looked entirely capable of doing both. She returned her attention to her dinner.
They were silent while they ate, and she guessed he was going over his proposal as much as she was—as much as she had been all night. Occasionally, she shut her thoughts and enjoyed the thick, tender steak, the first she’d had in too long a time to remember. Once, she even closed her eyes to chew, relishing the taste. She opened her eyes to find him watching her.
“This is a delicious dinner,” she said, embarrassed to be caught enjoying the steak so much. “Steak isn’t something the kids and I can afford. The boys could eat yours and mine and everyone else’s in this end of the restaurant and still want more, so I don’t buy steaks.”
“You have a chance now to eat all the steaks you want.”
She lost the last of what little appetite remained as her stomach began fluttering once more. “You’re single and accustomed to doing things exactly as you please. How do I know you wouldn’t try to take over our lives?”
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. His gold cuff link caught the light. “We could draw up a contract, but I can tell you, I have no intention of interfering in your life and I don’t want you interfering in mine.”
She bristled, suspecting he wouldn’t call his actions in- terference.
“You’re not eating,” he said.
“It’s wonderful, but your suggestion has my stomach churning.”
She received a crooked smile. “It’s a good thing my ego isn’t fragile. Let’s get out of here and go where we can dis- cuss this in private.”
He paid for their dinners and in minutes they were in the car. “We’ll go to my place,” he said, his tone of voice brooking no opposition.
She sat in silence, casting surreptitious glances at him, noting the firm jaw�
��no doubt an indication of stubborn- ness—the wide forehead—probably a sign of intelligence— the masculine, well-defined mouth—tempting evidence of a sexy kisser. She slammed the brakes on that train of thought, staring into the dark night while visions of money danced in her mind: money to pay for braces for the boys’ teeth, money for band instruments and sports equipment for the boys, money for Quin’s counseling.
Caleb drove through Colby to the outskirts, turning down a dirt road and passing over a cattle guard, stopping beside a sprawling house with a fenced area in back. Parked near the garage was a black pickup. A golden retriever bounded forward to greet them when they stepped inside the gate.
“That’s Red.” He waved the dog away and opened a door, entering the house and switching on lights. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
Juliana looked at the spotless, rustic kitchen with its beamed ceiling, oak cabinets and terrazzo floor. It was a large, inviting room, filled with the latest equipment. This man shouldn’t need Elnora’s money at all. Clearly, he was already comfortably fixed. He had to have the most colos- sal greed to want Elnora’s bequest. Juliana stared at him as he shed his coat and tie, his simple moves holding a mas- culine appeal that heightened her wariness.
With his hand on the door of the fridge, he turned to- ward her. “You’re looking at me again like I’m holding a gun aimed at you.”
She waved her hand, indicating their surroundings. “You have so much. You’re not so desperate for Elnora’s inheri- tance to go into a loveless marriage.”
To her surprise, he flushed and turned away. “I can use the money. Would you like wine, soda, or beer?” he asked.
“A glass of water, please,” she answered, watching him move around the kitchen to get her water and open a bottle of beer for himself. He handed her the water, his fingers brushing hers. A tingle ran up her spine at the contact.