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Authors: Carla Cassidy

BOOK: To Wed and Protect
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“Green,” Luke corrected. “She has pretty green eyes.”

“Better watch out, those green-eyed women will get you every time,” Mark said with a loving smile to his dark-haired, green-eyed wife, April.

“If we can dispense with the pleasantries, we've got some work to do,” Matthew said.

“By all means, let's dispense with any pleasantries,” Luke said dryly. God, he would really love a drink.

There followed an uncomfortable silence as April and Mark settled on the sofa and everyone turned their gaze to Matthew. He finished his drink in one large swallow, then stood and began to pace the length of the multicolored throw rug beneath his feet.

Instantly Luke was thrown back in time, and for a moment he felt as if he were seven or eight years old again and it was his father pacing the floor, working up a head of steam that would result in a beating for one or more of the four kids. Adam Delaney would slam down a shot of bourbon then slam into one of his kids.

He shook his head slightly to dispel the image. Adam Delaney was dead and gone, his only legacy the ranch they had to work to keep and enough dysfunction to keep therapy in fashion for years to come.

“We have several things we need to go over and make decisions about,” Matthew began. “First of all, April has been asking me for months about renovating the old barn into a sort of a community building.” He turned to April. “You want to explain to them what you have in mind?”

April sat up straighter on the sofa. “You all know that as social director here, I'm always looking for ways to offer the guests exciting and wonderful entertainment. If we renovate the old barn, it will make a terrific permanent place for dances and parties.” She looked at Mark as if for reassurance. “I had a contractor come out and look at it and it's structurally sound, but still it's a big investment to make.”

“And that's what we need to make a decision about,” Matthew said. “In seven months the ranch officially becomes ours. If we're just going to sell it and split the proceeds, then I don't see the point in investing any money in renovating the old barn.”

Luke looked at Matthew in shock. It was the first time he'd ever heard Matthew even mention the possibility of selling the place.

“I don't want to sell,” Mark said. He looked at Luke, at Matthew, then at Johnna. “This is Delaney land. We belong here. I want to pass my part of this ranch on to Brian…and to the child April is carrying.”

Everyone looked at April in surprise. “It's true,” she confirmed. “I'm pregnant.”

Johnna squealed with excitement and quickly ran over to hug April while the men congratulated Mark on the news.

“So, we know that Mark doesn't want to sell,” Matthew said a few minutes later when things had calmed down. “Johnna, what about you?”

She frowned and raked a hand through her boyishly short dark hair. “To be honest, I haven't given it much thought lately. Between my law practice and having
to work here twenty-five hours a week, I haven't had much time to think about what the future holds.”

“But you always said you hated it here,” Luke reminded her. Their mutual dislike for the family homestead had always been a point of commonality between them.

Johnna frowned. “When Father was alive, I definitely hated this place. Now that he's gone, I'm not sure how I feel.”

“Look,” Mark interjected. “Do we really have to make a decision about selling right now? Can't we go ahead and do the renovations on the barn without knowing for sure what we're going to do in seven months time?”

“Is the money for the renovations an issue?” Johnna asked.

Matthew shook his head. “No, the ranch is doing very well, and we could pay for the renovations without having to take out a loan.”

Luke fought a wave of frustration. He didn't want to put any more money in the ranch. More than anything he wanted to convince his brothers and sister that the best thing for all of them was to sell the ranch in seven months, split the proceeds from the sale, then get on with their own separate lives.

He wanted no ties to this place of unhappiness. He didn't give a damn what the others did. The day the year was up Luke intended to sell his share either to one of his brothers or sister, or to an outsider.

With the decision made to go ahead with the renovations, the family meeting broke up. The four of them rarely spent time in idle chatter. They had no
idea how to perform the small talk that would encourage a deepening of their relationship with each other.

Luke was the first to leave. After saying goodbye to everyone, he left the house and headed for his workshop in one of the outbuildings.

He didn't have to be at the Honky Tonk until ten and decided he'd work an hour or so on a rocking chair he'd been making. The workshop was the one place he loved on the ranch. Housed in one end of the stables, it smelled of fresh hay, horses and wood chips. Every tool he'd ever need to transform raw wood into useful and decorative items was at his fingertips, bought with money he'd earned at the Honky Tonk.

The rocking chair was complete except for the sanding and finishing, and as he picked up a piece of sandpaper and got to work, his mind whirled with thoughts of his family.

The Delaney children had learned at an early age not to trust one another. Adam Delaney's parenting skills had included a divide-and-conquer mentality. He'd taught his children to trust nobody—particularly each other.

Often before a beating Luke had been told that his transgression had been brought to Adam's attention by one of his siblings.

Luke and his brothers and sister had remained isolated through misery and fear, and now that Adam was dead, none of them seemed to know how to breach those early years of distance and mistrust.

“Luke?” He jumped in surprise as Mark and April appeared at the doorway of his workshop.

“Hey, what's up?” he asked curiously.

“We just thought we'd stop in before heading back to our place,” Mark said.

“What a beautiful chair,” April exclaimed.

Luke eyed the two of them in suspicion. They had never been in his workshop area before, and he couldn't imagine what had prompted this unexpected visit. “Thanks.”

“I saw one of your coffee tables the other day at Susan Milford's house,” April said. “You do such beautiful work, Luke.”

He grinned, suddenly realizing a possible reason for their being here. “Let me guess, you want me to make you a crib. Sure, I'll be glad to do it.”

“Oh, Luke, that would be wonderful, but that's not the reason we stopped.” April smiled at Mark, as if to encourage him. “Go on, ask him.”

Mark was obviously ill at ease as he looked first at his wife, then at Luke. “Well, you know April is pregnant,” he began. Luke nodded. “Since we found out, she and I have been talking and…well…we'd like you to be the baby's godfather.”

Luke stared at his brother and sister-in-law in stunned silence. “Is this a joke?” He couldn't imagine why they would want him to hold such an exalted position in the life of their child. Being a godparent was certainly nothing to take lightly.

“Of course it's not a joke,” April replied with a sweet smile. “Mark and I both agree that you would make a wonderful godfather. We both know that beneath your superficial charm and bad-boy reputation
is the heart of a loving, caring man, the kind of man we want in the life of our child.”

Her words caused an unsettling ball of emotion to well up inside Luke, and he instantly swallowed. He didn't want this.

How could he be a good godparent and leave Inferno in seven months? He didn't want chains holding him here, and this felt like an emotional chain of mammoth proportions.

He swallowed again and cleared his throat. “I really appreciate the thought, but maybe it would be better if you asked Matthew.”

Luke saw the disappointment in his brother's eyes and instantly regretted his words. But it wouldn't be fair to the baby to have a godparent who wasn't here to share life experiences.

“Okay,” Mark said. “Then I guess we'll ask Matthew.” He turned on his heels and left the workroom.

April looked at Luke one last time, confusion wrinkling her delicate brow. “You Delaneys are the most complicated people I know,” she said, then turned and followed her husband out the door.

In the ensuing silence, Luke got back to work, trying not to think of what had just occurred. The idea that April and Mark would want him as a godfather still stunned him.

For the first time in his life, Luke felt as if his brother had been reaching out to him, trying to make a connection beyond the superficial one they had shared all their life.

And he'd rejected it. And apparently he'd rejected it badly. Luke sank down on a bench and raked a hand
through his hair. If he'd wanted a drink before, he desperately needed one now. All he had to do was walk into the house and help himself to the bar stock Matthew kept on hand. A few drinks, and the pain in his chest would disappear.

Yeah, right, he thought dryly. His pain might go away but he'd be back on the treadmill that led to nowhere. He'd drink himself into the loser his father had always told him he was.

April's words replayed in his mind. She was a sweet woman but obviously seeing characteristics that weren't there. Beneath his superficial charm and bad-boy reputation wasn't much of anything else. And he was not a good bet for a godfather. Matthew would be a much better choice.

He drew a deep breath and thought of his siblings. His brothers and sister were fools for wanting to keep this ranch alive, for being sentimental enough to want to hang on to a place where they'd endured nothing but heartache.

He was the smart one, the strong one who intended to get away. He had a hunger to be somebody, to make something of himself, if only to prove his father wrong.

Funny, each and every one of the Delaney children had suffered physical and mental abuse at the hands of their father, and the experience had made them who they had been as children and who they had become as adults. His siblings were hanging on here in an attempt to be something they would never be…a normal, happy family.

Luke didn't intend to waste his time or energy on
such a fruitless endeavor. Seven months, he told himself. He had seven months here, and then he'd put the past and the bad memories of this place behind him and he'd never, ever look back.

And in the meantime, he had a delightful diversion to occupy his mind for the next seven months. A delightful diversion with dark hair and bright green eyes, a diversion named Abby.

A smile curved his lips as he thought of how delicate and warm her hand had been beneath his earlier that day. And even though she'd told him all she wanted from him was a new front porch, the slight tremor in her voice, the look in her eyes had told him she wasn't as unaffected by him as she'd like him to think.

She knew his reputation, knew his plans to leave Inferno, so she would know exactly what he was offering her and that it had nothing to do with anything long-term.

Yes, indeed, if he had to stick around Inferno for another seven months, it was nice to know that gave him seven months with the winsome Abigail Graham.

Charming a woman was certainly less complicated than family ties and emotional baggage.

Chapter 5

A
bby was on edge. She'd been on edge for the past two days while Luke had been working to complete the front porch, but nothing like what she was feeling this afternoon.

She told herself her intense anxiety was due to the fact that early that morning she'd taken the kids to school and enrolled them, then had left them there and returned home alone. She told herself she was worried about how they would fare, that she was afraid the school officials might discover the children weren't named Graham after all and that she was not really their mother.

Although Jessica had been enrolled in an afternoon kindergarten class, Abby had made arrangements for her to attend a morning play group at the school, as well, and she was worried how the little girl would do without her brother for support.

But the truth of the matter was she was nervous because this was the first time she'd been alone in the house while Luke worked outside. And much of her nervousness was due to the fact that he seemed to be aware of their utter aloneness, as well.

He was in and out of the house more often for drinks of water than on any day previous, and whenever she joined him there, he lingered longer than necessary.

He'd arrived just after nine, and after working only a few minutes had asked where the children were. She'd explained that they had started their first day of school, and from that moment on there had been an overt tension between them that simmered in the air.

It was about two-thirty in the afternoon when he told her that he was taking a break from the porch work and wanted to measure the kitchen cabinets and could use her help.

“It's much easier to get measurements with another person holding the end of the tape,” he explained as he pulled a tape measure from his back pocket. He held out the end toward her.

She took a step closer to him, her mouth unaccountably dry. What was it about him that made her feel so alive? What was it about him that seemed to invite crazy feelings and desires?

“Hold the end right here.” He pointed to a stop on the end of one of the cabinets. She moved to do as he bid, and he pressed his finger against hers. “Yes, right there,” he murmured, his breath warm on her face.

She breathed a sigh of relief as he moved to the
other end of the cabinet. The man had a sexual energy that positively seethed from him.

“Okay, got it,” he said. “Now I need you to hold it over here.” He walked to the refrigerator and waited for her to join him. “Can you reach up here?” He gestured to the bottom of the cabinet over the refrigerator.

She nodded, rose on her tiptoes reaching up. Again he placed his finger over hers, as if to assure himself she was at the right place. “Hmm, you smell good,” he said.

He took a step closer to her, so close she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, smell the pleasant masculine scent of him.

“Thank you,” she murmured breathlessly.

“I was just thinking that with your hand otherwise occupied now might be a perfect time to begin charming you.”

Abby turned her head to look at him in panic. “Don't you dare,” she exclaimed. “Stephanie told me you charm a woman right into seduction, and I'll tell you right now that even though the other women in this town might find you irresistible, that doesn't mean I do. You just don't have that kind of an effect on me.”

“Really?” he replied with obvious amusement. He placed the tape measure on the countertop, then looked at her once again, those sinful eyes of his promising unspeakable pleasures.

“If I don't have any kind of effect on you, then why is your pulse beating so rapidly right here?” With
his index finger he touched the pulse point in the hollow of her throat.

Abby swallowed hard, as if in doing so she could dispel the electric jolt his touch sent riveting through her. She knew she needed to step away from his touch, tell him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't about to become another notch on his bedpost.

And yet, there was a crazy, insane, utterly feminine pull in the opposite direction. There was no denying the fact that she was overwhelmingly attracted to Luke, and she suffered a hunger for all the things she saw in his dark, wicked eyes…uncomplicated passion and simplistic desire.

One thing was certain, she had a feeling that the last thing Luke Delaney wanted from her was any kind of real intimacy other than the physical kind. And she certainly wasn't in the position to want any kind of true intimacy with anyone. She harbored too many secrets for that.

“Why is your breathing just a little more shallow than normal?” he asked in his deep, low voice that was as seductive as a voice could be.

“I have asthma,” she replied, and he laughed again, seeing through the lie. “Why would I want to get involved in any way with you,” she asked lightly and stepped away from him. “From what the gossips in town say, you're rather conceited, you drink too much and you don't take anything seriously.”

His eyes danced with brilliant lights of amusement. “I stopped drinking over a month ago, I'm only conceited about the things I have a right to be and I take my lovemaking very seriously.”

She wasn't sure how it was possible for him to elevate her body temperature with mere words, but somehow he managed it.

“A year is a long time to be alone, Abby,” he said softly, and although he didn't attempt to touch her again, the warmth of his gaze stroked her with the potency of a physical caress.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “But that doesn't mean I'm ready to fall into bed with the first handsome man who comes along.”

“Ah, so you think I'm handsome.”

This time it was her turn to laugh. “You know you're handsome. But it takes more than a pretty face and sweet words to seduce me.”

He leaned a hip against the counter, eyeing her with a wicked smile. “Really? Then what does it take?”

“You're just going to have to figure it out,” she replied enigmatically. In truth, good sense had managed to reign over raging hormones.

She couldn't think about herself, couldn't think about her wants or needs. She had two children to consider, and it wouldn't be a good idea for her to allow Luke or any man into their life at this time.

Before he could make any kind of response, a horn bleated loudly. Abby checked her wristwatch. “That will be the school bus bringing home the kids,” she said, and hurried out the kitchen door.

The bus driver waved as she stepped around the side of the house then opened the bus door. Jason and Jessica tumbled out, their faces lit with the happiness of a successful first day of school.

They raced to her, and she leaned down and
wrapped her arms around them both. “Did you have a good day?” she asked them.

“We like school,” Jason exclaimed. “My teacher is really nice and I got a new best friend and we have a hamster in a cage….”

Abby laughed as the words tumbled from him. “Whoa, slow down.” She turned to Jessica. “And what about you? Do you like school?” Jessica nodded, her eyes shining brightly, and Abby wondered how long it would be before she got a call from Jessica's teacher wondering why the little girl refused to speak.

She shoved this worry away. She'd deal with it when it came up. “Go change your clothes, and you can play outside.” Luke's swing was a rousing success with the two children, and she knew that's where they would go.

They raced inside the house, and she followed.

“First day of school go okay?” Luke asked as she entered the kitchen.

She nodded and smiled. “It would seem so.”

“I always loved school. It was the one place where I could escape from my father.”

She leaned against the kitchen table and eyed him curiously. “So your father really was the meanest man on earth?”

“Definitely,” he replied, and for just a moment a shadow usurped the sparkle of his eyes. “But thankfully he's gone now, I hope to his just reward.”

Abby didn't know how to reply. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that his father couldn't be the meanest man on earth. Justin Cahill held that particular honor. Justin Cahill, who had shattered Jason and Jes
sica, who had stolen so much from her life and had not received his just reward, but rather had escaped the consequences of the heinous crime he'd committed.

“If you'll hold the tape measure for me again, I promise I'll behave,” he said, the wicked gleam back in his eyes.

She returned his smile. “I'm not sure I can trust your promises.”

“Oh, but you can. I never lie, and I never, ever break a promise.”

“Then that certainly makes you different from the men I've known in my lifetime,” she replied truthfully, then flushed as she realized she'd said more about her personal life than she'd intended.

They worked in silence for a few minutes, Abby holding the tape where Luke instructed her and Luke taking notes of the measurements needed to construct new cabinets.

They had just finished the last door when the kids raced in to tell Abby they were going out to the swing.

When they were gone, Luke eyed her with open speculation. “Am I to assume from your last statement that maybe your marriage wasn't exactly a happy one?”

The web of deceit Abby had spun seemed to grow more tangled, more complicated. She didn't want to tell more lies. “I'd rather not talk about it,” she finally said. “And if you don't need my help in here, there are some things I need to take care of.”

“I'm finished here,” he replied, and she was aware
of his gaze lingering on her, filled with curiosity, as she fled the room.

 

Luke stared after her, more curious than ever. He could only discern from her statement that her life had been filled with men who lied and broke promises. When she'd uttered the statement that if Luke did neither, then he was different from the men in her life, she'd looked achingly vulnerable and hauntingly fragile.

He'd had the crazy impulse to take her in his arms and hold her tight. And his desire had nothing to do with anything physical, nothing to do with sex. He'd merely wanted to take away the pain that had momentarily whispered in her eyes.

Crazy, he thought as he left the kitchen by the back door.

He waved to the kids who were taking turns on the swing, then headed around to the front and began to pull down the last of the old porch. As he worked, his mind raced with thoughts of Abby.

Had her marriage been a miserable one? Was it possible her husband had lied to her, broken promises…and even worse?

Once again he thought of Jason asking him if his daddy was mean. Why would a six-year-old ask such a question unless he knew something about mean daddies?

Luke had a feeling what Abigail Graham needed more than anything in her life was some good, old-fashioned fun. She obviously had a good sense of humor. That had been evident as she'd teased him.

But how much fun could her life have been for the past year having the responsibility for raising two kids alone? And how much fun had her life contained prior to her husband's death?

He worked until dinnertime and managed to get the last of the old porch down. He'd just finished loading his tools in the back of the truck when Abby came around the side of the house.

“I was just going to come in to find you,” he said.

“I've got to get over to the family ranch and put in a few hours, but I'd like to come back later this evening and set the posts. That way they can set up overnight and will be ready by morning.”

“That's fine with me, but I thought you worked at the Honky Tonk in the evenings.”

“It's closed on Monday nights,” he explained. He looked at his watch. “It's almost five now. I'll be back here about eight, if that's okay.”

“Sure, that's fine with me,” she agreed.

“Okay, then I'll see you about eight.” He started to get in his truck, but paused. “Oh…and Abby, I've figured out what you need in your life.”

“Oh, really?” She arched one of her perfect brows.

“And what might that be?”

He grinned. “I'll tell you later.” He slid behind the steering wheel and waved at her, then pulled away from the house.

Within minutes he was at the ranch and spent the next couple of hours repairing a fence that was threatening to topple down.

When he'd finished, he went to the main house, to
the bedroom that had been his as a child. Much of his clothing and personal belongings were still here.

When he'd moved into the Honky Tonk, he'd taken very little with him, knowing it wasn't a good idea to store anything of value in the tiny room. The ranch was close enough for him to obtain anything he might need in a short period of time.

He showered, then changed into clean clothes, his mind whirling with memories that being in this room always evoked.

When he'd been growing up, this room had served as both a retreat and a prison cell. There had been times when his father had sent him to this room, and other times when he'd run here to escape his father's rage.

He left the room and the memories behind, heading for the kitchen and a chance to grab something to eat before he returned to Abby's place.

He'd just sat down at the kitchen table with a ham sandwich when his brother Matthew walked in. “I thought I heard somebody down here,” he said.

“I stopped by to shower and change clothes.”

“And raid my refrigerator,” Matthew added dryly.

“That, too,” Luke agreed affably. “Things seem quiet around here. In a couple more weeks things will really be quiet.”

“I've already started a list of things that need to be repaired in the guest cabins,” Matthew said as he leaned his back against the refrigerator. He rubbed the center of his forehead with two fingers.

“Rough day?” Luke asked.

“Rough week,” Matthew said as he dropped his
hand. “We've got a family in cabin four who is driving everyone crazy. I'm tired of dealing with everything. I'm really looking forward to a little downtime.”

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