Read A Long Tall Texan Summer: Tom Walker Online

Authors: Diana Palmer

Tags: #Man-woman relationships, #Westerns, #General, #Romance, #Cowboys - Texas, #Western, #Cowboys, #Fiction, #Texas, #Love stories

A Long Tall Texan Summer: Tom Walker (6 page)

BOOK: A Long Tall Texan Summer: Tom Walker
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The sight of the child running toward him aroused odd sensations in Tom Walker. He opened his arms and caught her, lifting her high, his eyes twinkling with the joy that raged inside him. This was his own, his

child, his blood. Amazing how attached he'd become to her in such a short time. He hugged her close, laughing.

She returned the enthusiastic hug, and chattered

brightly about the meal they were going to have as he

carried her effortlessly into the house.

"Gosh, you're strong, Mr. Tom," she said with a grin. “I’ll bet you could lift my pony."

"Not quite," he mused, setting her back on her feet. He shook hands with Luke and then turned to Elysia.

Her face was drawn. She looked frustrated and even a little frightened.

He reacted to her expression rather than to her cold greeting. "It's all right," he said gently, searching her

eyes quietly. "We'll call a truce for tonight."

She drew in a steadying breath, ignoring the comment. "Dinner's ready, if you'd like to sit down."

"Come on and help me bring in the food, Crissy," Luke said to the child, herding her out of the room.

Tom heard the kitchen door close and he searched Elysia's worried face for a long moment.

"I'm not

very good at this," he began slowly.

"At what?" she asked tersely.

He shrugged. "Apologies. I don't think I've made two in my entire life. But I'm sorry about what I said to

you the other day."

"You needn't butter me up because you like Crissy," she said coldly. "Regardless of your opinion of me, I'm not vindictive."

He searched her eyes. "She's a unique young lady. You've done a good job with her."

She moved restlessly. "Thank you."

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He stuck his hands into his slacks pockets with a long sigh. "Are you and Luke close?" he asked suddenly.

The question should have surprised her, but it didn't. "Yes," she said. "We were physically abused

children, so I guess we were closer than kids who had a normal upbringing."

His face grew very hard. "It's a damnable world for some children, isn't it? Even with the new protective

laws, the secrecy hangs on. It's so hard for a child to accuse a parent, even one who deserves a prison term."

"I know." She searched his lean face with quick, curious eyes. "You want to know if Luke told me what you said to him, don't you?"

"He did, of course," he said knowingly.

She nodded. "He thought...it might help if I knew it all."

"And did it?"

She lowered her eyes to his chest, flushing. She'd been more intimate with this man than with anyone in

her whole life. It hadn't bothered

her before, but now it did. Vivid memories

flooded her mind of that

night with him.

They were embarrassing and they made her self-conscious around him.

"I won't stop you from seeing Crissy, if that's what you mean," she said, evading a direct answer, her tone cold with her inner turmoil.

"Thanks," he replied.

Neither of them spoke, having too much trouble finding the right words.

When Luke and Crissy came back, two pairs of eyes looked toward them with open relief.

"Shall we eat?" Luke murmured.

Crissy reached up and took Tom's hand. "You have to sit beside me, Mr. Tom, so you can tell me about Indians."

"Native Americans." Elysia corrected her without thinking and then flushed at Tom's keen glance.

"Is that right?" Crissy asked her companion.

"Actually it is," he told her. "Or, if you prefer, indigenous aborigines." He grinned. "Those two words get

a workout lately."

Crissy tried to pronounce it and finally succeeded.

After they were well into their meal, Tom explained the divisions of Sioux to his young daughter.

"There

are Lakota, Nakota and Dakota," he said, "which refers to the use of the / and n and d in each of those languages. Then, there are Brule, or burned thigh, Sioux, Nez Perce, Blackfoot and Sans Arc." He
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explained to her that Sans Arc meant "without bows" and came from a sad incident in that tribe's history

during which the group were advised by a shaman to put their bows and arrows into a pile. They were subsequently attacked, with tragic results.

"Tell me about your great-grandfather," Crissy persisted. "He was one of the warrior subchiefs," he explained. "He fought and was wounded in the Little Bighorn fight."

"Massacre," Crissy said knowingly.

He gave her a long look. "A massacre is when one group is totally unarmed and defenseless.

Custer

and his men had plenty of weapons."

"Oh," Crissy said respectfully.

"Back in the old days, trackers could tell by the shape of a moccasin which tribe he was tracking. The arrows were unique to each tribe, and even to each warrior."

"Goodness," Crissy exclaimed. "Can you track?"

He chuckled. "I can track my way to the nearest burger stand," he mused. "But out in the woods, I don't think I'd be much good at it. Now my sister's husband is a real tracker. And he's got Native American blood, too. Their little boy is just your age. He looks a lot like you," he mused, studying Crissy. "He has green eyes, too, despite his dark skin and hair."

"Have you seen the Cades lately?" Luke asked.

Tom shook his head. "I've been too busy, what with this move to Jacobsville. But I thought I might go up

there for a few days next month. I don't know what I'll do with Moose while I'm away, though," he added thoughtfully.

"You got a moose?" Crissy asked, wide-eyed.

"That's his name," Tom said, correcting her. He chuckled. "Moose is sort of like a walking disaster. I've been around dogs most of my life, but he's unique. Kate saw him once and called him an albatross."

"What's that?" the little girl wondered aloud.

"There was a poem by Coleridge. The ancient

mariner was forced to wear one around his neck—"

"I read that in school." Luke interrupted. "It was one of the only poems I liked."

"We could keep your dog for you," Crissy volunteered.

"No, you couldn't," Tom said before Elysia or Luke could speak. "Moose would shatter every fragile

thing your mother and uncle have, and you'd have to recarpet the floor. He's a digger. If he can't get his paws into dirt, he'll try to unearth the carpet. Everything I own is saturated in lemon juice to keep Moose

out of it. He really hates the taste of lemon."

"Why do you keep him?" Luke asked.

Tom made a face. "I don't know. I like him, I guess. He was a stray. I felt sorry for him. Now I feel
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sorry for myself. But he'll grow up. One day."

"We have two cats that somebody abandoned,"

Luke murmured, with a speaking glance at his sister. "I was going to take them to the pound, but she—" he gestured toward Elysia "—wouldn't hear of it. They went to the vet instead, for shots. Good thing she makes a good living at her boutique, or their appetites would bankrupt her."

"They eat an awful lot," Crissy agreed. "Especially Winter."

"Winter?" Tom ventured.

"It was when we found her," she replied. "And the other one is named 'Damn—'"

"Crissy!" Elysia burst out.

"Well, that's what Uncle Luke calls her,”

Crissy muttered.

"Her name is Petunia," Elysia said, smothering

laughter. "But she likes shaving lotion, so every morning when Luke uses his, Petunia leaps into his lap and tries to lick him."

"Moose has several other names, too," Tom murmured, "But I won't repeat them in mixed company."

Luke chuckled.

"Would you like to see our cats?" Crissy asked when they finished dessert. "They live in the barn."

"Go ahead," Elysia told the other three occupants of the table. "I have to clear away."

Tom hesitated, but Crissy caught his hand and coaxed him out the back door.

Luke hesitated before he followed. "You okay?" he asked his sister.

She managed a smile. "I suppose so. Not that we've settled anything, but we're not attacking each

other, either. I don't mind if he sees Crissy."

"They seem to be forming a bond."

"I noticed." She sighed. "Luke, you don't think he'll try to take her away from me?" she asked worriedly.

"No, I don't. He isn't that kind of man."

"I do hope you're right. I've only been around him for a few..."

The sound of tires on the gravel outside caught their attention. A tall, dark-haired man was just getting out of a racy red foreign sports car.

"Why, it's Matt!" Elysia exclaimed. "Whatever is he doing here?"

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Chapter 4

Matt Caldwell was a handsome devil, dark-eyed and lean-faced and dark-browed. He moved with a lithe, sure gait and he was the favorite target of most of the single women in Jacobsville. Not that Matt ever seemed to notice

any of them, except Elysia, and only on a friendly basis. His full name was Mather Gilbert

Caldwell. But everyone called him Matt.

He grinned as he approached the people on the front porch, showing perfect white teeth.

"Are you a delegation?" he queried.

"You'd better hope we're not a lynch mob," Luke chuckled. "What brings you out here?"

"I'm looking for your dinner guest. Where is he? I've got a message for him from his sister."

"It must be a pretty important one to bring you out here," Elysia said. "And how did you know he was here?"

"Mr. Gallagher," he murmured dryly.

She groaned. "He's out in the barn with Crissy."

"Mind if I deliver the message?"

"Of course not," Elysia said.

He caught her by the hand and pulled her along. "You come, too."

She let him lead her away with an amused glance toward her brother.

"Is it bad news?" she asked as they approached

the barn.

"Not at all." He glanced down at her. "Why is your dinner guest in the barn with Crissy?"

"She's introducing him to our cats."

"I heard she and Luke spent today out at Turner's Lake fishing with Tom."

"They did."

"Is he Luke's friend, or yours?" Matt asked, pausing to stare down at her.

She fidgeted. "That's personal. You and I are just friends, Matt."

"Of course we are," he agreed. "But friends take care of each other. Our Mr. Walker has a cold, nasty

temper and he seems to be going out of his way to antagonize you. I felt a little guilty about it, so I came

out to see why Luke brought him home."

His wording went right by her. "Crissy likes him," she said.

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"Crissy likes me, too," he said pointedly.

She couldn't say any more without giving away secrets. She grimaced. "Matt, be a dear and stop grilling

me, could you?"

"Is he why you left New York so suddenly?"

She glared at him. "Hey. That's too personal!"

"Sure it is. We've already agreed that we're friends, haven't we?" His dark eyes narrowed. "Crissy looks a lot like him, don't you think?"

"Matt!"

He let out a long sigh. "Well, she does. I'm not blind or stupid, and I knew more about Fred Nash than most people. He wasn't in any shape to become a father..."

"Oh, God, not you, too?" she groaned.

"Yes. Me, too. For heaven's sake, hasn't it dawned on you that I was responsible for Tom being in Jacobsville? That I planted the seed in his mind, encouraged him to do a market study of the area and move down here?"

She actually gasped. "You didn't!"

"I did," he said firmly. "He had a right to know. Not that I said anything about Crissy to him. I thought fate would take care of that And it has. He knows, too, doesn't he?"

She glowered up at him.

"Of course he knows," he answered his own question. "He isn't blind, either. And he's been giving you fits ever since he moved here. Damn, I'm sorry."

She slumped. "Matt, you were only trying to help. But it's all such a mess."

"Most messes can be cleaned up with the right broom." He tilted her face up, smiled and bent to kiss her

on the cheek. "Cheer up. The world isn't going to end. In fact, things are going to work out beautifully.

All you have to do is give them a chance."

The squeak of the barn door opening brought both heads up. Tom was standing there with Crissy beside him, glaring blackly at the newcomers.

"There you are," Matt said genially, still clinging tightly to Elysia's hand. "Kate phoned. When she couldn't find you, she found me. She has news."

Tom stilled. "Bad news?"

''Hell, no," Matt said, chuckling. "She's pregnant You're going to be an uncle again."

Tom whistled through his teeth. "Imagine that. They've tried for years to have a second child." He
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laughed with pure delight. "I'll bet they're both over the moon."

"Kate sounded that way when I spoke to her," Matt agreed. "She said Jacob's already planning a new nursery. He wants a girl this time. I think Kate does, too."

"They'll be happy with whatever they get. They're both crazy about kids."

"Their son will like having a playmate."

"And Kate is a wonderful mother," Tom added. "I'll call her as soon as I get home. Why are you holding

Elysia's hand?" he added so abruptly that it caught Matt by surprise.

"Was I?" He loosened her fingers with a smug look that neither of them saw.

"He can hold my hand if he wants to," Ely-sia told Tom.

"I noticed," he said coldly. "You must like him. You haven't thrown anything at him. What's the matter, can't get your shoe off?"

"Just you give me a minute and we'll see...!" She struggled with a loafer, using Matt's arm for a prop, but

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