About That Man (6 page)

A low chuckle followed her inside, but she couldn't tell if it was Walker's or her brother's. At this point, it didn't much matter. She held the same low opinion of both of them.

Upstairs she found Bobby and Tommy engaged in a cutthroat round of a Monopoly game.

“Watch him, Tommy. My brother really, really likes to acquire real estate. He's already bought up half the waterfront in Trinity Harbor.”

Tommy's eyes widened. “For real? You own the beach?”

“Not the beach,” Bobby said. “Just the land nearby.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“He's already built a marina,” Daisy said.

“The one with all the boats and the neat restaurant?”

Bobby nodded. “That's mine.”

“Wow. My mom took me to eat there once. It was last year on my birthday. We got all dressed up and everything.”

Bobby grinned. “Did you like the food?” he asked casually.

Now there was a loaded question if ever Daisy had heard one. “Careful how you answer, Tommy. Bobby's also the chef.”

Tommy looked puzzled. “You mean like a cook?”

“Yep,” Daisy confirmed. “That's just a fancy name for it.”

“I didn't study at Cordon Bleu just so you could call me a cook,” Bobby grumbled, clearly offended. “Isn't it bad enough that I have to put up with Daddy saying that?”

“He's just ticked because you refuse to take over the cattle operation.”

“I've been telling him since I turned ten that I was not interested in raising Black Angus. I'm twenty-eight now—wouldn't you think he'd be over it?”

“Daddy?” Daisy said skeptically. “The man who still hasn't forgiven his brother for buying a prize bull out from under his nose thirty years ago?”

“I see your point,” Bobby said with a sigh.

Daisy leaned down and kissed him. “He loves you, though. You do know that, don't you?”

Bobby grinned. “Being loved by King Spencer is not necessarily a blessing.”

She laughed. “You may be right about that. It just means there's more pressure to do things his way.” She gave Tommy a hug. “Want me to stick around and tuck you in?”

“I don't need to be tucked in,” he said with an embarrassed glance at Bobby.

Her brother winked at him. Daisy let it pass. She'd slip in later after the lights were out and make sure Tommy was okay. “All right, then. Good night, you two.”

“Daisy?” Tommy called after her, his voice hesitant.

“What, sweetheart?”

“Is my uncle…is he still here?”

She tried to read his expression and couldn't. “He's going to stay through the weekend.”

“Here?”

“No. They're downstairs deciding that now. Probably at the hotel by the river.”

Tommy's shoulders seemed to ease then, and she realized that, despite his outburst earlier, he didn't really
want his uncle to disappear from his life. Family relationships might be complex and frustrating, but they were still the most powerful ties a person had. As terrified as she was that Walker might take Tommy away from her, she couldn't bear to deny them this time together.

“Maybe when he comes over in the morning, he'll tell you all about what your mom was like when she was a little girl,” she suggested.

Tommy's eyes lit up for the first time since he'd learned that Walker was coming. “That would be cool. She never said much about when she was a kid.”

“Then you ask him,” she said softly, fighting back the sting of tears.

Bobby followed her from the room and gave her a hug. “You did good in there,” he told her.

“I hope so.” She stared at her brother wistfully. “What if I lose him, though?”

“Then his staying wasn't meant to be. You'll survive.”

Daisy envisioned an empty future and wished she shared Bobby's confidence.

 

Later, alone in her too-quiet, too-lonely room, Daisy could admit that the meeting with Walker had been a disaster, start to finish. But as she thought back over the evening—from Tommy's disappearance to the awkward reunion a few hours later—what stuck in her mind was that unexpected kiss she and Walker had shared.

Why couldn't she shake the memory? Was she so desperate for a little attention that any man's kiss would have thrown her off-kilter like this? Maybe so. In fact, that had to be it. It had nothing at all to do with Walker Ames.

Yeah, right. She touched her fingers to her lips. Even
now she could almost feel the whisper-soft caress. It hadn't lasted more than a few seconds, but it had felt like an eternity. He had seemed almost as shocked by it as she had been.

It was definitely a good thing that he had declined her invitation. Hopefully he'd also declined the suggestion that he stay at Cedar Hill. He'd be just fine at Trinity Harbor's one fancy hotel. Near enough to drop in, but far enough away to avoid temptation.

She sighed. She had a feeling that kiss was going to keep her up all night as it was. Having Walker Ames right down the hall would have been more than she could bear.

His concession to stay in Trinity Harbor through the weekend was a blessing for Tommy, but it was going to be tough on her. In one single gesture, Walker had reminded her that she was a woman, that she had needs and desires that had been ignored for far too long. He'd be lucky if she didn't drag him off somewhere and try to ravish him.

She blushed at the thought. What had come over her? She never thought like that, much less behaved in such a wanton manner. Not once in all of her thirty years had she felt such an intense need to have a man's tongue intimately invade her mouth, to have his hands on her breasts or to feel his body inside hers. Not even Billy had aroused this kind of desperate yearning. Their lovemaking had been sweetly satisfying, but she'd never seen stars, never felt as if the earth were tumbling out from under her feet the way she had tonight. These days, on those rare occasions when she passed Billy on the street, she felt nothing at all. Yet even now, she couldn't imagine a time when the sight of Walker might not affect her.

Which just proved that it was way past time for her body to wake up and come alive again. Once again she tried to reassure herself that the physical response was just that—physical. It did not have anything whatsoever to do with Walker Ames specifically.

She needed to keep reminding herself that his decision to stay simply gave her three more days with Tommy, three more days to convince everyone that he was better off with her in Trinity Harbor than he would be in a city like Washington.

Her father, who had more prejudices than Daisy would ordinarily condone, had it just right when it came to the nation's capital. The city's level of crime was a disgrace. It was no place to raise a small boy. Surely a man who dealt with that crime every day of his life would be able to see that. She just had to sit down and reason with him.

Unfortunately, she had discovered tonight that Walker Ames had the ability to rob her of the power to speak coherently, much less forcefully. He knew it, too, more's the pity.

But Daisy hadn't been raised by a man like King Spencer without learning a little about ignoring her fears to get the job done. If Walker Ames thought he could use his masculinity to fluster her, then she could just as easily use a few feminine wiles to turn the tables on him. The more she considered the prospect, the more anxious she was to see him in the morning and put her plan into action.

In the meantime, it might be wise to say a little prayer that she wasn't deliberately throwing herself to the wolves…or to one wolf in particular.

W
alker had a lot of excess tension to work off. He woke up at dawn after a restless night on a hard hotel mattress, feeling every one of his thirty-five years. His shoulders ached. His knees were stiff, the result of too many years of hard physical activity from football in high school to the jogging he now did daily to keep in shape.

More troublesome than the aches and pains were the mental cobwebs. As if dealing with his first face-to-face meeting with Tommy weren't stressful enough, there was Daisy Spencer and her far too tempting mouth to consider. She'd played a prominent role in his dreams. No wonder he'd awakened thoroughly aroused and totally exasperated with himself.

The last thing he needed in his life was a woman who looked at him with moist lips half-parted by unmistakable lust and eyes shining with innocence and vulnerability. There was a contradiction there that he didn't want to get mixed up in. No way.

He hadn't wanted to belabor the discussion of the kiss they'd shared because he'd been very much afraid he'd be tempted to kiss her again just to shut her up. She had that exasperating effect on him, an effect no woman had had for a very long time.

Bottom line, he needed to get her out of his system before he saw her this morning and did something that would only add to the regrets he already had. A good workout ought to accomplish that. Luckily he kept his gym bag in the trunk of the car. He changed into shorts and a sweatshirt, tugged on his running shoes and hit the road.

For the first few blocks, he was barely aware of his surroundings beyond the lack of traffic and the faint tang of salt in the air. His concentration was totally focused on getting into his rhythm, getting his breathing to match his relaxed, easy strides in a way that would bring the optimum results.

Eventually he began to take note of the tidy lawns with their picket fences and abundant splashes of spring flowers, the wide porches and old-fashioned swings, the cheerful flags that adorned most houses. The few people who were outside at this hour glanced up at him and waved, their friendly smiles a stark contrast to the hostile suspicion he was used to receiving back home.

Only after he'd turned a corner and set off along the wide, tree-lined street bordering the river did he realize that he no longer had the pleasantly cool morning to himself. He heard the slap of other sneakers on the pavement, the ragged breathing of a beginning runner and the steadier sounds of someone more experienced. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted a couple half a block behind. The woman waved, then nearly stumbled. The man caught her arm.

“Are you okay?” the man asked, gazing worriedly at her flushed face. “It's only your second week. I can slow down.”

“No, no,” she said between gasps. “I can keep up.”

The man grinned at Walker, who jogged in place waiting for them.

“Stubborn as a mule,” the man observed when they were closer.

Walker winked at her, then admonished the man, “Hey, give her credit for trying.”

“That's what I've been telling him,” she said, bent over at the waist as she tried to catch her breath. When she could finally speak without gasping, she added, “I think he's just afraid I'll collapse in a heap and he'll have to carry me all the way home.” She held out her hand. “I'm Anna-Louise Walton, by the way. And you're Walker Ames.” She chuckled at his surprise. “It's a small town. I've gotten a full description from half the people in Trinity Harbor. Your arrival was big news.”

He regarded her with bemusement. “Why?”

It was the man who spoke up. “Speaking as a journalist, I can say it's because the story has all the makings of a real tearjerker. Long-lost uncle comes to claim his orphaned nephew, pitting himself against the daughter of the town's leading citizen.” He grinned. “By the way, I'm Richard Walton. I own the paper here. Anna-Louise is my wife, and before you mutter that curse that's obviously on your lips, you should know she's a minister.”

For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, Walker was shocked into silence by a woman in this town. Obviously the females in Trinity Harbor were a breed apart.

“Don't worry,” Anna-Louise said to cover his apparent discomfort. “People say whatever they want in front of me. If I feel the need, I'll pray for your soul later.”

“Good to know,” Walker said.

“So, how did it go yesterday with Tommy?” she asked. “And with Daisy?”

He wasn't going to touch the topic of Daisy with this
woman or anybody else. As for Tommy, he wasn't sure what to say. “I wish I knew,” he said eventually. “Tommy has a lot of understandable resentment where I'm concerned.”

Anna-Louise nodded sympathetically. “Look, since I'm obviously winded and pathetically out of shape anyway, why don't we go get some coffee? Maybe I can help.”

“Or we could just leave the man alone and let him handle his own life,” Richard countered, regarding his wife with amused tolerance. “Anna-Louise likes to meddle.”

“It's not meddling. It's my job,” she chided.

“Only when a member of your congregation actually asks for help,” Richard reminded her. “Walker's barely been in town for a full day, he's never set foot in your church and I haven't heard him ask for any advice.”

She laughed. “Okay, so sometimes I anticipate a need before it's expressed. Sue me.” She regarded Walker hopefully. “How about that coffee?”

Because he was willing to listen to advice from any quarter, Walker nodded. “Lead the way.”

“Earlene's is the only place open for breakfast,” she said. “The coffee is strong and the country ham and eggs are worth trying if you don't give a hang about your cholesterol. At this time of the morning we should have a shot at getting a booth. The regulars don't start coming in for another half hour or so, and Fridays don't bring out the tourists this time of the year. Tomorrow's another story.” She turned to her husband. “Coming with us?”

“Nope. I might be too tempted to put something you say in confidence on the front page of next week's paper.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don't listen to a word he says,” she told Walker. “Richard is the most ethical man I know. He just wants to gloat later that he finished his run and I pooped out.”

Richard leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, then grinned. “That too,” he said. “Nice meeting you, Walker. If you stick around, maybe we can get together and talk about D.C. I used to work there myself.”

“Really?”

“Well, for the paper, anyway. I was a foreign correspondent, so I never spent all that much time in Washington, but I certainly kept up with the politics.”

Walker nodded as recognition dawned. “You're
that
Richard Walton. You wrote some damn fine pieces from some pretty awful war zones. Won quite a few awards, too, as I recall. I thought your byline had been missing for a while now.”

“Fours years. I took a leave of absence when my grandmother got sick. Then Anna-Louise and I got married and I bought the paper in my hometown. When she got the transfer here, I bought this one and brought an old buddy in as editor of the one over there.”

“Now he's a media mogul,” Anna-Louise teased.

“Two weeklies do not an empire make,” Richard retorted. “Besides, I like it here.” He gave his wife another kiss. “Don't lose this job. I don't want another paper to worry about.”

She laughed. “I didn't lose the last job. I just got an irresistible offer. King Spencer can be very persuasive.”

“So I've heard,” Walker said.

“Oh, good, then we can talk about him, too,” she said. “See you later, honey.”

“Should I be bothered by the fact that you're suddenly so eager to be rid of me and spend time with another man?” Richard teased. “Is the honeymoon finally over?”

“You'll have to decide that for yourself,” she said, then led Walker off in the opposite direction.

On the walk to the small riverside restaurant, which sat next to a weeping willow just beginning to get its pale green leaves, silence fell. At first Walker felt the need to fill it, but he realized very quickly that Anna-Louise was one of those rare women who didn't expect conversation. She seemed perfectly content with the quiet.

The restaurant's windows were shaded by blue and white awnings. Pots of just watered flowers sat beneath. Bicycles were propped against the building.

Inside Earlene's, there was indeed a last booth available. The gray-haired waitress had their coffee cups filled practically before they'd slid into their seats. She gave Walker a thorough once-over, but didn't ask any questions. Either she'd already guessed who he was, or she was the only person in town who kept her curiosity in check.

Instead of asking about him, she turned to Anna-Louise. “Honey, you look plumb worn-out. Has Richard been making you run again?”

The minister grinned. “He doesn't
make
me. I'm trying to get healthy.”

“If you ask me, there is nothing healthy about working up a sweat on a day God just meant to be enjoyed.”

Anna-Louise's expression grew thoughtful. “You know, Earlene, you could be right. Maybe there's a sermon in that.”

Earlene patted her hand. “Honey, that's why you're so popular. You find sermons in all the everyday things people can relate to.”

When the woman had taken their orders and moved on to other new arrivals, Walker studied the woman opposite him. Funny, now that he knew what she did for a living, he thought he could detect an unusual serenity in her eyes that should have tipped him off. He'd seen the same thing in the eyes of police chaplains and other clergy he dealt with after a crime had taken a terrible toll on a family. He always wished he could grasp what it was they knew that lesser mortals didn't. Even the other faithful didn't seem to have it to the same degree. Men like him didn't have it at all. And he couldn't help wondering if a man like Richard Walton, who'd seen some of the worst the world had to offer, still believed in anything whatsoever.

“I can see your mind's working overtime,” Anna-Louise said, cutting into his thoughts. “What are you grappling with? What to do about Tommy?”

“Actually, I was wondering what it takes to be a minister, especially a woman minister.”

“The same thing it takes a man,” she said at once. “Just a little more of it. Dedication. Faith. Compassion. And in my case, a healthy supply of grit and determination.”

“Something tells me it's not as simple as you make it sound. Otherwise more people would answer the calling.”

“Okay, for a woman, maybe it takes the ability to withstand a few shocked looks, a lot of doubting remarks and occasionally an organized campaign to have us banished.”

“There,” he said. “That sounds more like it. Did anybody ever try to banish you?”

Her expression clouded over. “All the time at first.”

“But you were tough enough to take it,” he said approvingly.

“I had a strong backer,” she replied.

“Richard?”

“God.”

Walker was taken aback by the quick retort, but then a smile spread across his face. “Yes, He would be a help, wouldn't He?”

“He usually is, if we listen.”

“I'm not sure I can hear what He's saying about me and Tommy,” Walker confided.

She gave him a serene smile. “Oh, I think you can. Maybe you're just not ready to listen.”

“You're telling me I should pack Tommy up and take him with me,” he said, a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He almost regretted asking her opinion, because she was right. He wasn't ready to hear it.

“No,” she said at once. “I'm not telling you anything. It's for you to decide.”

“Do you think he'd be better off here with Daisy?” he asked, trying to get a clear-cut answer from her one way or the other.

“I know she loves him,” Anna-Louise conceded, clearly choosing her words carefully.

“I thought I heard a
but
in there.”

“Did you?”

He shook his head at the deliberate evasiveness. “I could find you extremely annoying, Mrs. Walton.”

“Anna-Louise will do. And you only find me annoying because I won't make your decision for you.”

“I thought your job was to point people along the path to righteousness.”

“That puts them in good standing with God. This decision is about you and your family. A private matter.”

“What if I ask for your advice?”

She laughed. “I'll answer with a question. What do you think is right and best for Tommy?”

He dragged a hand through his damp hair. “I wish to hell I knew,” he said without thinking, then immediately apologized. “Sorry.”

“No problem. I will give you this much advice. Give it time, Walker. You don't have to decide today or even tomorrow.”

“Tell Frances Jackson that. She's chomping at the bit to get Tommy off her plate and onto mine.”

“No, she's just trying to make sure he's with someone who loves him. Every child deserves that, especially one who's just been through the trauma of losing the only parent he's ever known.”

“Yes,” Walker said slowly. “Yes, they do.”

But was he in any position to give Tommy the kind of love he needed? Did he even have any love left to give? The three people who'd been closest to him in his life certainly didn't think so.

 

Daisy's gaze kept straying toward the back door. She'd expected Walker to show up by now. It was after eight, and there was still no sign of him. Fortunately Tommy didn't seem to care one way or another. He hadn't glanced at the door once.

Still, she was disappointed. It wasn't that she'd expected him, exactly. After all, wasn't she the one who'd anticipated that he might bolt straight back to Washington? She'd merely hoped that he would keep his promise and be here this morning—for Tommy's sake.