Last's Temptation (10 page)

“No.” Crossing his arms, he leaned against the kitchen counter. “I applied to the high school to teach Latin, since you gave me the bright idea.”

“Good,” Esme said, “you’ll be wonderful. Any
one who can tell such wonderful stories will be a great teacher.”

“And speaking of wonderful stories,” he said, “while I was applying, Mrs. Carrol happened to mention that you have references from Harvard. Harvard, of all places.” He looked at her, and Esme’s breath held tight. “Now, why wouldn’t I have guessed that a magician would be a Harvard grad?”

She turned away. “If you already know, why do you ask?”

“Because it seems as if you’re keeping things from me. And I can’t figure out why you wouldn’t share that you’re highly educated.”

“I told you that I was working on a thesis,” she said.

“But you never mentioned Harvard. Your omission gives me pause and, frankly, makes me suspicious.”

Esme sank into a kitchen chair. “The truth is,” she said, taking a deep breath, “after we left England and moved to California, my parents sent me to Harvard to get me away from the circus. Because of my grandparents, who were small-time magicians, it was my dream as a child to be a performer. My parents wanted me to have something more lucrative to fall back on. So I went to college and I grad
uated and then I came back home. My sister was the one who got married and had kids. The perfect family. Me? Even with the Ivy League degree I…will always love the circus. It’s part of who I am.”

“Ah,” Last said, “even now you’re not ready to settle down. And so another audience member is hoodwinked by the sexy and super
sly
Poppy Peabody.”

“But that was then,” Esme said.

Last remained unmoved.

“You offered to help us,” she reminded him.

He nodded. Why did her background, her love of disappearing acts make a difference now? Because he’d wanted to believe that he’d swept her off her feet?

She had the broom.

The Curse obviously wasn’t working for him. Right now all he felt was betrayed. “I feel deceived,” he said, “although I know that may be unreasonable.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding, “particularly as we both mentioned up front that neither of us wished to be tied down.”

“I know,” Last said. “I’m confused by my own motives.”

Esme looked at him. “Isn’t that typical for Jefferson males?”

“I am generally atypical.” He crossed his arms. “The problem is that you slept with me, Esme Hastings. You even seduced me. And I liked it.”

“So now you want to change the playbook.”

He gave her a slanted brow. “I do.”

She looked at him. “But you’re not in love with me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You do rattle my cage consistently. I take that as a sign that I should be paying close attention to you.”

Esme laughed, turning around to take down two floral teacups. “You are a strange man, Last Jefferson.” She poured tea, keeping a wary eye on him. “Though you are a handsome devil.”

“That’s better.” He considered her. “I have decided that I will wait for you to seduce me.”

She handed him a teacup. “And if the wait is long?”

He shrugged. “The best things in life are worth waiting for.” A frown crossed his face. “Whoever said that didn’t have you standing in his kitchen in a frothy nightie.”

She blinked. “Part of your appeal is that you really seem to like me.”

“Trust me, I do.”

“Why should I seduce you, Last?”

“I’m easy.” He winked. “I won’t make you chase me too hard. But I do think you should pursue. My brothers found their women and—bam!—it was like love hit them upside the head. But I am willing to wait on you.”

“I see.” She put her teacup down. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’m going now,” he said. “You see I’m leaving.”

“Yes, I do,” she agreed. “Should you leave from the second-story window?”

“No,” he said. “And next time I come by you’re going to have to invite me in to see some of that magic your niece and nephew brag about.”

She walked close to him, looking up into his eyes. “Here,” she said, “this is magic.” And she kissed his lips in such a manner that goodbye was nearly impossible.

Yet he had to go if he was ever going to know for sure that she cared enough about having him in her life to come after him.

“Tell me again why The Curse doesn’t work for you?” she asked after they’d ended their kiss.

“Because I don’t need to be hit by Cupid to know my feelings. I’m not as hardheaded as my brothers.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “I was becoming concerned. Between the seal and the tree, I worried that you didn’t actually have quite the thing for me you thought you did.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he said smoothly. “Guess we’ll find out when you pursue. If I turn you down, you’ll know.”

“What would be the point of my pursuit?” she asked. “If neither of us wants a relationship?”

“Because we could shack up,” he said. “If that judge wouldn’t complain about you keeping house with a cowboy—”

“He’s not going to,” Esme said. “He’s a friend of my parents.”

His throat dried out. “What are you talking about?”

“He wanted to declare my parents the guardians because he knew them so well. He did not know me. My parents have since explained to him that the children are totally happy. They talk to them every night on the phone. They have also explained that they are moving down here and it would be best for the children if I were the legal guardian.”

Last stared at her. “So you actually don’t need me at all.”

Esme slowly shook her head. “Not if helping me keep the children was why you’ve been hanging around.”

He scratched under his hat. “Hell, I don’t know why I’ve been hanging around.” He looked at her. “You mean you don’t have to go back to California to prove yourself a fit guardian?”

She shook her head in the negative.

“And you’ve started a new life here and the children are happy and you’re happy and everyone’s happy but me,” he said. “This didn’t turn out the way I expected it to.”

Her gaze filled with sympathy. “I want you to be happy.”

He looked stunned. “I thought you needed me. I wanted to be needed. I liked being the protector for a change.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that everything is different now.”

He opened the front door. “Strangely it seems like the closer I try to get to you, the farther away I am.” He gave her an intense look that made her want to pursue him, just as he’d suggested. “You’ll remember our kisses and you’ll come after me.”

She watched him silently.

“I’ll be going now,” he said.

Esme looked at him with her heart in her eyes, but she hoped she hid it from him. “I’ll see you soon.”

Nodding, he left.

Esme swallowed, her heart hurting…and wanting. She didn’t want to say goodbye, but she also didn’t want him staying around for heroic reasons. No different from Mimi, she wanted to be loved for herself—not because she was a rescue mission. Last had strong heroic tendencies, as she had witnessed many times. He saw himself in Curtis and Amelia and he related to their circumstance. He would save them any way he could, perhaps even offering to marry her.

But that was no road to happiness.

L
AST LEFT
E
SME’S HOUSE
feeling certain that once again he’d been tossed from the bull of life. There was nothing he could do to win this woman—she was keener on remaining single than he was. “And that’s saying something,” he muttered. “How did she manage to change my mind?”

“Mr. Last!” a small voice called to him. Looking up, he saw Amelia and Curtis waving from the window.

“Hey, sleepyheads!” He grinned up at them.

“I’m going to be Maverick the Great when I grow up,” Curtis said.

“No, you’re not,” Last said. “You’ll be Curtis the Awesome. And Amelia the Fabulous.”

The kids laughed. “Where are you going?” Curtis asked.

“Hmm.” Last considered appropriate answers. “I need to pick up Annette at my brother’s.”

“We’ll come, too.”

Before he could say
Probably better not,
they’d disappeared from the window. Seconds later they bounded out the front door.

“Hey,” he said, “you didn’t tell your aunt you were leaving.”

“We have to leave,” Amelia said. “She’s crying.”

“Huh?” Last looked at them with surprise. “She was fine a second ago.”

“Yeah.” Curtis shrugged. “Sometimes she gets like this. Especially before a big show.”

He blinked. “That doesn’t sound like the Esme I know.”

“She says it’s nerves,” Amelia offered. “Only she calls them…showtime sillies.”

“Wow.” Last pushed his hat back. “Are you sure she doesn’t mind you leaving?”

“We left her a note on the marker board on the fridge that we were going with you,” Curtis said, his round face beaming up at Last. “And since you’re only going to Ms. Olivia’s, it isn’t that far.”

Last’s mouth twisted. “It’s Mr. Calhoun’s house, too, you know.”

Amelia shook her head. “That’s not what Mr. Calhoun says. He says what is hers is hers and what is his is hers.”

Last grinned. “My brother is a skilled ringmaster.”

The children walked beside him, their little arms swinging importantly as they tried to keep up with his bigger steps, but after a moment he felt two little hands creep into his so that he was in the middle, like tuna fish between slices of brown bread. “You two aren’t working me over, are you?” he asked, liking it even if they were but feeling as if he’d better point out that he recognized a railroading when it was happening.

“Sort of,” Curtis said. “We like living on the ranch. We were hoping you’d ask Aunt Esme to let us stay here.”

“Uh-uh,” Last said. “I don’t get involved in family machinations. It’s a very unhealthy thing to do. The unwise man who steps in the ring usually gets gored.”

Curtis pulled a small radio transmitter from his pocket. “Kenny,” he said. “Minnie?”

“Yeah?” Kenny’s voice could clearly be heard over the walkie-talkie.

“We’re here,” Curtis said with a grin.

“You little devils,” Last said. “Where did you get that thing?”

Amelia skipped beside Last as Curtis ran off. Minnie and Kenny waved from the foot of the windmill that slowly turned as a backdrop to Olivia and Calhoun’s home. “Mr. Calhoun says it’s the easiest way to get hold of his kids. And his wife, when she’s on Gypsy. Today Ms. Olivia says she’s going to help us find our seats.”

“Seats?” Last was wary. “I still think we should walkie-talkie your aunt Esme. Does she have one of those things, too?”

“No. Kenny borrowed Mr. Calhoun’s for Curtis and me.”

“Borrowed as in…Mr. Calhoun doesn’t know.”

Amelia shook her head.

“Let me guess. The four of you stayed up last night radioing.”

Amelia gave him a wry look. “Only for a few minutes. Curtis gets tired at night.”

“Well, I’ll be.”

Amelia ran off to join Minnie, leaving Last to walk by himself. He couldn’t help laughing, although he knew he was going to be in trouble with Esme. Sighing, he turned around and walked back to her house, this time ringing the doorbell.

She opened the door a second later, her eyes red. “Hi.”

“Your kids have made plans by radio with Minnie and Kenny. Something about finding their seats today. I have no idea what all this means. In my day, we just sneaked out. Today’s children appear to be more elaborate. All the planning is done by walkie-talkie. But at least there are no broken arms from falling off drainpipes.”

Esme smiled. “I knew they were going with Olivia today. She offered to teach them how to ride a horse.”

“Finding a seat,” Last said. “I get it. I thought they meant a show of some sort.”

“Thank you for being concerned.”

“I am.” He looked at her closely. “The kids said you were having an attack of showtime sillies.”

She raised her chin. “It’s passed.”

Whatever it was, she didn’t want to talk about it. “Okay. I’ll just be going…again.” He stepped off the porch, admiring the fact that she didn’t wail about her problems the way some females did.
“Maybe I’ll just mosey on up to the main house and see what delicacy Helga is preparing.”

“Olivia’s also planning to help Annette find her seat,” Esme said helpfully. “Valentine bought her her first little cowboy boots. They’re pink. Olivia says Annette has just the right spirit for barrel racing.”

He stopped in his tracks, then began jogging toward “Olivia’s” house, his heart in his throat. When he got there, he saw Olivia turning Annette first one way, then around, then forward, then backward, like a revolving doughnut, in a child’s saddle. Olivia was holding her niece carefully. Nearby Valentine watched with a smile on her face. Slowly Last’s heart stopped thundering. “Finding a seat” wasn’t such a bad thing, he decided, sitting down and wiping the sweat from under his hat. He’d known that all along—even though he’d “found his seat” by trial and error, because he’d been determined not to be left behind by his older siblings.

Along the rail, the four older kids stood watching and patiently waiting for their turn. Out of Kenny’s and Curtis’s back jeans pockets poked blue walkie-talkies, a matching set. Last sighed, leaning against the fence as he took in his extended family. It could
all be so perfect, except that Esme didn’t seem to want to be a part of it. And he didn’t believe she’d been having showtime sillies for a second.

She was having relationship sillies—a terrifying and crippling panic attack he understood very well.

“Here’s a camera,” Esme told Last, slipping one into his hand a few moments later and catching him by surprise. “Just in case you’d like a picture of your daughter’s first boots and horse lesson.”

He looked at her, making her go soft inside. Why did he have to be so fiercely protective of his child, so gorgeous, so smart—and so not right for her?

He took the camera from her, his fingers trembling a bit. “I may not make it through her teen years. You scared me when you told me she was on the back of a horse. I wasn’t ready for that.”

Esme nodded, looking at the child, who seemed delighted with her ride. “Parenting is the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced.”

“And yet,” Last said after snapping a picture and handing her the camera, “you allow your new
family to hang from harnesses. I can probably be excused for worrying about my daughter’s first riding attempt.”

Esme looked at him as she slipped the camera in her pocket. “Last, the children
are
safe. Most importantly, they are with me at all times.”

“Yes, but didn’t you say your parents wanted you to go away to college so you would give up the circus?”

She nodded.

“And now you’re bringing it here, to put on the hootenanny to end all hootenannies,” he said. “Which means Amelia and Curtis will be around it all the more. Not that it’s a bad thing,” Last said slowly, “but when I worry about my daughter’s first lesson and you don’t worry about high-flying circus antics, I get nervous. See, here I am all worked up about my daughter on a pony. Even if you did decide to pursue me, our differing perspectives make me think I may not be able to live in your world.”

Esme shook her head. “They wanted to be part of the circus, Last.”

His eyes were deep and brown as he stared down at her. “Anytime my gut tells me firmly something is wrong, I go with it.”

She put her hands on her hips. “So we have a different approach to parenting.”

“It’s something we need to get together on before you start pursuing me,” Last said. “So there won’t be any misunderstandings.”

“There aren’t. First, I’m not pursuing you. I thought we established that. Second, Curtis and Amelia like to perform, and as crazy as it may sound, they needed it after their mom died. There’s a certain element of suspension of disbelief in the circus, and they really, really needed that.”

“Yeah. I know. But it’s not the way I think it should be.”

Her brows rose. “Maybe it would be best if you worry about your daughter and I worry about my sister’s children.”

“It can’t work out like that,” Last said slowly. “We have to agree. What if we become one big happy family living on this ranch…someday.”

“Big happy families do not agree on everything.”

“But they should,” he insisted.

“What family does, Last?” she asked. “Did yours?”

“Oh, hell, no. We disagree from sundown to sunup. But that’s not normal.”

“Maybe it’s very normal,” Esme said. “And
maybe I’m not afraid of having my opinion and you having yours and us not meeting in the middle.”

“But I really, really think Curtis and Amelia should live like kids. Not circus performers. As well as you turned out,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her, “I’d prefer them to enjoy the circus as a spectator sport.”

She sighed. “You make a good argument, but I am resisting it.”

He looked at her. “Why?”

“Because I’m afraid that if I give in on this issue, you’ll feel free to insert your opinion of my parenting skills constantly. I’m aware I’m not the best parent. But I am trying.”

“Yeah.” He slid his hat back, turning to look at his daughter. “Except for the circus thing, you’re doing a great job.”

“So are we done having our first major disagreement?” she asked.

He snorted. “That didn’t even feel like a disagreement.”

“But it had such serious elements.”

“Yes. What if we could freely say that was the worst it would ever be between us? If so, we mesh pretty well.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I didn’t agree to anything, remember.”

He turned to look at her, startled. “You did.”

“No. I assure you, I did not.”

“You agreed that they wouldn’t perform.”

“Well, in theory. Not all the time is what I meant.”

“This is serious,” Last said. “It really worries me.”

“I know it does,” Esme said. “But I think there’s something else on your mind. Or you’re having an adrenaline rush from running down here.”

He took a deep breath. “Parenting styles are important.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“And from the way you’re reacting to my opinion, I don’t think you see me in your future,” he said.

She looked at him in surprise. “Did you change the subject or is this part of a bigger worry?”

“I’m searching for our compatibility level. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

Last cleared his throat. “In case we decide to be on the same ranch for a while.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I know.” His gaze went back to his daughter, who was having a great time on Gypsy’s back.
“I don’t know if I can make sense, not when it comes to us.”

“Hey,” she said, tugging on his sleeve, “I’m a magician, not a mind reader.”

“Yeah.” He looked down at her for a moment. “I know. And you’re supposed to be pursuing. I told myself not to get too overheated over you, beautiful circus girl.”

Waving at Valentine and Olivia and tapping the kids on the top of their heads to say goodbye, he loped off. Esme watched him go, turning to look at Valentine in surprise.

Valentine walked over to join her, an expression of sympathy on her face. “Not that I meant to spy, but I couldn’t help witnessing the exit of the Jefferson male.”

“Whew,” Esme said. “Are they always so abrupt?”

“Well,” Valentine said, “I can only speak for my Jefferson male, but an abrupt exit is not always a bad sign. They have their ways, but most of them are good.”

Esme appreciated Valentine’s attempt to soothe her. “I think your daughter is enjoying her big moment.”

“More than her dad did, anyway.”

Startled, Esme turned to look at Valentine. “He did take the lesson harder than I thought he would.”

Valentine shrugged. “He’s a good father.” She looked at Esme. “You two seem to have gotten pretty close.”

“I’m not sure,” Esme said. “But if we did, I hope you’d be okay with it.”

“I would,” Valentine said. “My daughter likes you.”

“She’s sweet. And fun. My niece and nephew enjoy her.”

Valentine nodded. “They’re very good kids.”

Esme smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s not hard to tell that your sister was a wonderful woman.”

Tears sprang to Esme’s eyes. She looked at Valentine with appreciation. “I don’t think I can fill her shoes.”

“And you feel Amelia and Curtis deserve that.”

“Yes,” Esme said. “But I’m just so different from my sister.”

“Different but in a good way,” Valentine said softly. “They’re lucky you were willing to change your life so much for their sakes.”

“Oh, I did in a heartbeat.” But Last’s words
bothered her. “Do you think it’s wrong to let them perform in the circus?”

“I don’t know,” Valentine said. “Olivia’s children performed with her in the rodeo, on the road, even. It was just their way of life. They’re fairly well-adjusted. Actually Kenny and Minnie are more positively aligned than some of the adults around here,” she said with a laugh.

Esme smiled. “You’re making me feel good. But it’s not that I want them to perform, really. I just want them to be with me. Last could very well have a point about their need for a slower childhood.” She looked at Valentine. “It just seems that we have fundamental differences over how to raise children.”

“Because you disagree over performing?”

Esme shook her head. “I had the strangest feeling he was measuring my stepmotherhood ability for Annette.” She looked at Valentine. “Not to be indelicate, Valentine. I just mean that it was the strange sort of feeling I got.”

Valentine smiled. “It’s okay. I’d be worried if he wasn’t concerned about a woman he brought into his daughter’s life. But you feel he found you lacking.”

“Maybe. It seemed that way.”

“That would be a problem,” Valentine said. “I see why you’re worried.” She nodded. “The ques
tion is, are you worried about your ability to raise your sister’s children or your ability to make Last happy?”

“You’re never going to believe this,” Last said, coming up behind them and startling both women. “Mason just called me on my cell. Mimi’s talked him into running for sheriff.”

Valentine looked at Esme. “Never a dull moment around here. It’s a circus all its own.”

Esme nodded, her gaze on Last. She realized Valentine’s question had no simple answer, because she was worried about both issues.

Her big problem was the sudden realization hitting her as she stared at the handsome cowboy who had decided he wanted her to pursue him.

She had fallen in love with him—in spite of knowing they were often incompatible. How could two people with so many attached and conflicting family parts mesh successfully?

“It’s true,” Last said cheerfully. “We are our own big top, complete with clowns.” He looked at Esme. “No magician yet, though.”

She blinked. “Perhaps a sheriff.”

“Well, it would seem so.” He grinned. “Mason has to be elected, though, and his opponent is going to be a tough one.”

“Who is it?” Valentine asked.

“Me,” Last said.

Valentine gasped. Esme stared at him.

“Why?” she asked.

“It will be good for Mason to compete for something rather than just walk into it with his typical sourpuss attitude.”

“So you’re making the sheriff seat a family matter?” Esme asked.

“Actually I’m making it a personal matter. I want to take a walk on the wild side. Your example inspires me to use my considerable resources in a different fashion than, say, hang gliding.”

Valentine smiled, but Esme frowned. “I don’t want to inspire you.”

“Well, you do,” Last said. “I find your dedication to family impressive. I love your commitment to community and your willingness to dig into my issues. Family issues.”

“I do not dig,” Esme said indignantly. “I just like your family.”

“Good,” Last said.

“What does Mason say about your decision?” Valentine asked.

“May the best man win,” Last replied, “which I was impressed with, until he followed his unusually warm gesture by saying that since only one man was running, he wasn’t too worried.”

“Uh-oh,” Esme said, trying not to laugh. “Well, congratulations.”

He grinned. “So you’ll vote for me.” He really wanted to hear that he had her confidence.

She was silent, still disbelieving of his announcement.

“You did inspire me,” he said. “You’ve set an example of generosity that’s making me realize I have to get off my duff.”

“When I met you, your duff was already airborne,” she said softly. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I need to quit crying over the past,” Last said. “I need to become a major contributor. Before I left for California, registering to run for sheriff was more a whim than anything else, another adventure. But now I know that birth order, unplanned fatherhood—none of that should be holding me back from achieving the best I can be.” He tugged on a lock of her dark hair. “I love the way you’ve faced an awful lot of challenges with a smile on your face.”

Valentine cleared her throat. “Congratulations,
Last. You know, I think I’ll go help Olivia give the children lunch.”

He nodded, but his eyes were on Esme as Valentine walked away. “I didn’t say some things earlier that I meant to say.”

“You’ve said a lot,” Esme said. “We’ve moved from parenting issues to family issues, so there’s a bunch of material we’ve covered.”

“We Jefferson men are fast,” he said, touching her hand. “Try to keep up.”

She looked at him. “Truthfully I don’t think I can.”

His heart pinched, warning him of danger ahead. “Sure you can.”

“No,” she murmured, pulling her hand away from his. “Magicians know the difference between reality and illusion.”

He looked at her, truly worried now. “I go with the flow, Esme. Illusion, reality—I’m used to both.”

She shook her head. “No. You’re definitely tilting more toward reality, though you may not realize it.”

He held her gaze. “You’re pulling an emotional disappearing act on me, aren’t you? I can almost see the puff of smoke as you disappear.”

“Not exactly,” Esme said honestly. “But you
think running for sheriff is better for you than the circus is for me. I have enough figuring out to do without worrying about whether you think I fit your version of a good mother.”

He raised his brows. “So this gulf I feel between us is really about the children.”

“I think so.” Esme lowered her gaze. “Though I appreciate you looking out for their best interests.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She looked at him, her eyes clear and worried. “The circus is my family,” she said.

“Oh.” He nodded. “And you feel I’ve attacked them by not wanting the children to perform.”

“Not attacked them, really. It’s just that you don’t understand them. Or it. They are who I am,” Esme said. “Just like you think nothing of running against Mason for sheriff to prove yourself, I look to my family to keep me centered.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Esme,” he said, pulling her into his arms even as he realized how much he’d hurt her. “Don’t disappear over my big mouth. It almost always has a boot in it, but I swear, sometimes it does things you’ll love, too.”

She tried not to smile as she pulled away. “Last, you’re one of the most generous men I’ve ever met. Not to mention handsome, sexy and smart.”

“Well, I’m glad you appreciate my good sides,” he said, trying to pull her back to him. “Come back to me and let me show you the good things my mouth can do to yours.”

But she remained stiff, and he realized cajoling wasn’t going to be the solution. “I need you,” he said, “and I can say that because I mean it and I know what my brothers have lost over the years by not speaking their heart soon enough. I have no desire to compete with Mason for the Blindest Heart trophy.”