Adam (4 page)

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Authors: Joan Johnston

BOOK: Adam
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He started automatically cleaning the debris from his desk.

“Don't worry about those,” Tate said, taking a handful of pebbles from him. “Aren't they pretty? I found them down by the creek.” She scattered them back onto the desk. “I play with them while I'm thinking, sort of like worry beads, you know?”

“Uh-huh.”

Adam forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying, rather than the way her breast was pressed up against his arm. By the time she was done talking about the projects she had in mind, she had shifted position four times. He knew because she had managed to brush some part of his anatomy with some part of hers each time she moved.

Tate was totally oblivious to Adam's difficulty, because she was having her own problems concentrating on the matters at hand. She was busy planning how she could make Adam sit up and take notice of her by accepting Buck's invitation to go out tomorrow evening. She just had to make sure that Adam saw her leaving on the date with the auburn-haired cowboy.

Her thoughts must have conjured Buck, because he suddenly appeared at the door to Adam's office.

“Need you to take a look at that irrigation system to see whether you want it repaired or replaced,” Buck said.

“I'll be right there,” Adam replied.

Buck had already turned to leave when Tate realized she had
the perfect opportunity to let Adam know she was going out with another man. “Oh, Buck.”

Buck turned and the hat came off his head in the same motion. “Yes, ma'am?”

“I've decided to take you up on your offer to go dancing tomorrow night.”

Buck's face split with an engaging grin. “Yes, ma'am! I'll pick you up at seven o'clock if that's all right, and we can have some dinner first.”

The thunderous look on Adam's face was everything Tate could have wished for. “I'll see you at seven,” she promised.

Buck slipped his hat back on his head and said, “You coming, Boss?”

“In a minute. I'll catch up to you.”

Adam's fists landed on his hips as he turned to confront Tate. “What was that all about?”

“Buck asked me to go dancing at Knippa on Saturday night, and I thought it might be fun.”

Adam couldn't very well forbid her going. As Tate had so pointedly noted, he wasn't related to her in the least. But he couldn't help having misgivings, either. There was no telling what Buck Magnesson's reaction would be if Tate subjected him to the same teasing sensuality that Adam had endured for the past three weeks. If Tate said “Please” Buck was damned likely to say “Thank you” and take what she offered.

Adam suddenly heard himself forbidding his sister Melanie from going out on a date with a boy he had thought a little wild. Heard himself telling Melanie that he knew better than she what was best for her. And remembered the awful consequences of his high-handedness. Adam didn't have to like the
fact that Tate had decided to go out with Buck Magnesson. But if he didn't want to repeat the mistakes he had made with his younger sister, he had to put up with it.

“Have a good time with Buck tomorrow night,” he said. Then he turned and walked out the door.

Tate frowned at Adam's back. That wasn't exactly the reaction she had been hoping for. Where was the jealousy? Where was the demand that she spend her time with him instead? Suddenly Tate wished she had thought things through a little more carefully. Agreeing to date Buck simply to make Adam realize what he was missing wasn't turning out at all as she had hoped.

She felt a little guilty that she had even considered using Buck to make Adam jealous. But since her plan had failed—quite miserably—she could at least enjoy the evening with Buck with a clear conscience.

Tate had gotten the broken water hose fixed on her '51 Chevy, and she used the pickup to drive the ninety miles east to San Antonio that afternoon to go shopping. She could have worn jeans to go dancing, but had decided that she owed it to Buck to show up for their date looking her best.

She found a pretty halter sundress that tied around the neck and had an almost nonexistent back. The bodice fit her like a glove and showed just a hint of décolletage. The bright yellow and white floral print contrasted with her dark hair and picked up the gold in her eyes. The midcalf-length skirt was gathered at the waist and flared at the hem. She whirled once in front of the mirror and saw that the dress was going to reveal a great deal of her legs if Buck was the kind of dancer who liked to twirl his partner a lot.

Buck's smile when she opened the door on Saturday night
was well worth the effort spent shopping. She couldn't help feeling a stab of disappointment that Adam wasn't around to see her off. Apparently he had made plans of his own for the evening.

Tate found Buck surprisingly entertaining company. The cowboy had older brothers of his own, and Tate was quick to agree, “Nothing is harder to put up with than a good example!” He and Tate shared older brother horror stories that kept them both laughing through dinner.

The country and western band was in full swing when they crossed the threshold of the Grange Hall in Knippa. The room was fogged with cigarette smoke that battled with the overwhelming odor of sweat and cologne. The sawdusted dance floor was crowded, elbow to elbow, with men in cowboy hats partnered by ladies wearing flounced Western skirts and boots.

Just as they made their way to the dance floor, a two-step ended and the band began playing a waltz.

“Shall we?” Buck asked, making a dance frame with his arms.

“Absolutely!” Tate said, stepping into his embrace.

Tate got another welcome surprise when she and Buck began to waltz around the room. The lean cowboy was graceful on his feet. He led her into several intricate variations of the dance that left her breathless and feeling like a prima ballerina by the time the song ended.

“That was wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“Would you like something to drink?” Buck asked.

“Just a soda, please.”

Buck found a seat for Tate at one of the small tables that surrounded the dance floor and forced his way through the crowd toward the bar.

Tate was tapping her foot to another two-step tune and enjoying watching the couples maneuver around the dance floor when she thought she saw someone she recognized. She followed the couple until they turned at the corner of the room.

Tate gasped aloud. It was Adam! He was dancing the two-step with a buxom redheaded woman.

As he passed by her table, Adam smiled and called out, “Hi, there! Having fun?”

Before she could answer, they had danced on past her, and she was left with the trill of the woman's laughter in her ears.

Tate felt sick.
Who was she?
The Redheaded Woman in Adam's arms was absolutely beautiful. No wonder Adam hadn't been interested in pursuing her when he was acquainted with such a gorgeous female.

“What's caught your eye?” Buck asked as he set a soda in front of Tate.

“Adam's here.” She pointed him out. “See there. With that redhead.”

To Tate's amazement, Buck scowled and swore under his breath.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing I can do anything about.”

“That's the sort of statement that's guaranteed to get a nosy female's attention,” Tate said. “Out with it.”

Buck grinned sheepishly and admitted, “All right. Here goes.” He took a deep breath and said, “That woman dancing with Adam is my ex-wife.”

“You're kidding!”

“'Fraid not.”

Tate watched Buck watching the Redheaded Woman. His feelings were painfully transparent. “You're still in love with her.”

Buck grimaced. “Much good it'll do me.”

“I assume Adam knows how you feel.”

“He asked my permission before he took Velma out the first time.”

“And you gave it to him?” Tate asked incredulously.

“She isn't my wife anymore. She can see whoever she pleases.”

Tate snorted in disgust. “While you suffer in noble silence. Men!”

Tate had been so involved with talking to Buck that she hadn't realized the song was ending. She was less than pleased when Adam and Velma arrived at their table.

“Mind if we join you?” Adam asked.

Tate bit her lip to keep from saying something censorable. She slipped her arm through Buck's, put a gigantic smile on her face, and said, “Why sure! We'd love to have the company, wouldn't we, Buck?”

It was hard to say who was the more surprised by her performance, Buck or Adam. What she hadn't expected was the militant light that rose in Velma's green eyes when Tate claimed Buck's arm. Well, well, well. Maybe there was more here than met the eye.

Adam made introductions, then seated Velma and caught one of the few waitresses long enough to ask for two drinks.

“I didn't expect to see you here,” Tate said to Adam.

“I enjoy dancing, and Velma's a great partner.”

Tate could imagine what else Velma was great at. She had observed for herself that the redhead had a wonderful sense of rhythm.

Tate was aware of Buck sitting stiffly beside her, quieter than he had been at any time during the evening. How could Adam not be sensitive to the vibrations that arced across the table between the cowboy and his ex-wife?

In fact, Adam was eminently aware of how much Buck Magnesson still loved his ex-wife. It was why he had brought Velma here this evening. Adam knew that with Velma in the room, Buck wasn't liable to spend much time thinking about Tate.

There was more than one way to skin a cat, Adam thought with satisfaction. He had known Tate would rebel against an ultimatum, so he hadn't protested her date with Buck. He had simply sought out a more subtle way to get what he wanted.

Bringing Velma to the dance seemed like the answer to his problem. He was pretty sure Velma was as much in love with Buck as the cowboy was with his ex-wife. He didn't mind playing Cupid, especially if it meant separating Tate from the virile young cowboy.

“How about trading partners?” Adam said, rising from his chair and reaching for Tate's hand.

Before Tate could protest, Buck said, “That sounds fine to me,” took Velma by the hand and headed for the dance floor.

Tate wasn't sure what to make of Adam's ploy. She waited until they were half a dance floor away from the other couple before she said, “That was a pretty sneaky thing to do.”

“I wanted to dance with you.”

“Are you sure you aren't matchmaking?”

Adam smiled. “You could feel it, too?”

“I think he might still love her.”

“I'm sure he does.”

“Then why did you bring Velma here tonight?”

“I would think that's obvious.”

“Not to me.”

“I enjoy her company.”

“Oh.”

He grinned. “And I knew Buck would be here with you.”

He sent her into a series of spins that prevented her from making any kind of retort. By the time she was in his arms again the song was over and he was ushering her back toward their table, where Buck and Velma were sitting across from each other arguing vociferously.

“Buck?” Tate didn't want to interrupt, but she wasn't sure whether she should leave him alone with Velma, either.

“Let's get out of here,” Buck said, jumping up and turning his back on Velma. “Good night, Adam. I'll see you tomorrow.”

As Buck hurried Tate away, she heard Velma say, “I'd like to go home now, Adam. If that's all right with you?”

Tate wasn't sure where Buck was taking her when he burned rubber on the asphalt parking lot. It was a safe guess from the dark look on his face that he had no romantic intentions toward her.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked at last.

Buck glanced quickly at her, then turned his eyes back to the road. “I don't want to bother you with my problems.”

“I'm a good listener.”

He sighed and said, “Velma and I were high school sweethearts. We married as soon as we graduated. Pretty soon Velma began to think she had missed something. She had an affair.”

Tate bit her lip to keep from saying something judgmental. She was glad she had when Buck continued.

“I found out about it and confronted her. She asked for a divorce, and I gave it to her.”

“Why?”

“Pride. Foolish damn pride!”

“And you regret it now?”

“My life's been running kind of muddy without her.”

“So why don't you do something about it?” Tate asked.

“It's no use. She says that I deserve better. She doesn't believe I can ever forgive or forget what she did.”

“Can you?”

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