About That Man (13 page)

He laughed at that. “Bad idea. We got into enough trouble when I managed to keep my hands mostly to myself.”

“But that's exactly the point—why did you?”

He studied her thoughtfully. “Daisy, do you really think that I didn't want you? Is that why you're so flustered?”

“I'm not flustered,” she insisted. “Just confused. I don't understand why you stopped.”

“Because it wouldn't be right for me to take advantage of this situation. You and I are going to be spending some time together. There's an attraction here that could get out of hand, but we don't need to act on it. I don't have anything to offer you. I live eighty miles away. Once this situation with Tommy is settled one way or another, we'll never see each other again except perhaps when one of us visits Tommy. And you're not the kind of woman who engages in a casual fling.”

“How do you know what kind of woman I am?” she demanded, vaguely insulted by the assumption. Mostly because she found it darned inconvenient. A casual fling held a whole lot of appeal for her about now.

She sighed at the thought. Of course he was right. She wasn't the kind of woman who indulged in such behavior. Propriety was as ingrained in her as breathing. That didn't mean she didn't occasionally wish it weren't so. Tonight was one of those nights, and Walker was the kind of man who made her wish she could just toss aside the values she'd always believed in.

Maddeningly, he grinned at her. “You're a school-
teacher. It's obvious from everybody I've seen you with that you command a lot of respect, and not all of that is because you're King Spencer's daughter. Your best friend is a minister, for goodness' sakes. Your brother is the sheriff.”

She frowned at him. Ignoring the rest, she asked, “You're scared of my brother?”

He chuckled. “No, I'm not scared of Tucker. The only thing that scares me is the likelihood that I will hurt you and your reputation.”

“Damn my reputation!” she said, though only half-heartedly. What had her sterling reputation ever brought her, except heartache and disappointment?

“You don't mean that.”

“I do,” she said stubbornly. “I'm sick and tired of being King Spencer's dutiful daughter, the sensible one. Just for once in my life I want to stir things up a little, do something unexpected and unconventional.”

“And an out-of-towner seems like your best shot?”

She faltered at the suggestion that she might be merely using him because he wouldn't be around later, because she wouldn't have to face the consequences day after day as she did every single time she bumped into Billy at the local supermarket.

“It's not like that,” she protested, but her temper had died down. “Not exactly.”

“Tell me, then, what is it like?”

The heat between them, the slam-bang surge of desire had been real. She hadn't chosen it because he was someone she wouldn't have to deal with later. How could she possibly explain that to him, though, without feeling like even more of an idiot? Despite his protests, he clearly
hadn't wanted her the way she had wanted him. Otherwise he would never have stopped. Men weren't that thoughtful. Men generally took whatever they were offered. Billy certainly had. He hadn't given two figs about her reputation.

She looked into Walker's eyes and saw genuine concern. That threw her. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this was one man who did think before he acted, who cared more about her than he did about fulfilling his own momentary needs.

And
that
suddenly made him more desirable than ever.

 

Walker stretched out on the bed in Daisy's guest room and stared at the ceiling, his body tense, his thoughts restless. He'd done his best to warn her off, hadn't he? He'd told her that he wasn't going to start something that was destined to end badly. Hell, he'd barely laid a hand on her, just to prove how noble his intentions were.

And she'd stood right there looking at him as if she wanted to award him a medal of honor, preferably while he was buck naked.

Where had he gone wrong? It had probably started with the kiss. He should never have succumbed to the temptation, but she'd been so close and he'd remembered exactly how she'd tasted from the other times. Of course, those had been a mistake, too. Apparently it was one he was doomed to repeat.

He did not get involved with women like Daisy. Despite that little show of defiance she'd put on, she was a respectable woman, from an even more respectable family. Visions of shotgun weddings danced in his head. He doubted King Spencer would care that Daisy had initiated
any seduction. He'd tar and feather Walker without so much as blinking if he caught Walker compromising his daughter. And after the looks and the whispers at Earlene's earlier, Walker knew they were being watched. Gossip, which had never before concerned him, was clearly rampant, and he'd barely been in town and living under Daisy's roof for a day.

He considered Daisy's stunned reaction to the possibility that Walker might be intimidated by her father or her brother. Much as he wanted her to believe that nobody scared him, the truth was it wasn't Tucker or King who terrified Walker half as much as one curvy little schoolteacher with lush lips and a damn-the-consequences attitude. The woman was dangerous. He had a sinking sensation that she would be glad to know that was how he saw her. Daisy Spencer was looking for trouble, big-time, though he seriously doubted she could handle it if it found her.

“I'm not going to provide it,” Walker said aloud. “No way.”

He repeated that to himself several times on his way to the kitchen in the morning. It was still echoing in his head when she turned from the stove and greeted him with one of those smiles that could have melted the entire Arctic ice cap.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.

She looked rested, he thought, feeling thoroughly disgruntled. Obviously nothing had kept her awake all night.

“Morning,” he said, fully aware of his sour tone.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

“Cream? Sugar?”

“Black.”

“I should have known,” she murmured.

Walker scowled at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she responded. “What can I fix you for breakfast?”

He leaned against the counter to watch her efficient movements. She looked totally at home.

She looked too blasted desirable.

“Whatever you're having will do,” he responded eventually.

“I'm having fruit and a bran muffin,” she said, barely containing a grin. “I'm fixing pancakes for Tommy.”

Walker knew there was a dare in there somewhere, but he was too exhausted to try to figure it out. “Pancakes,” he said, then took a long swallow of coffee. It was hot and strong, just the way he liked it. A woman who made coffee like this would make some man a terrific wife.

As soon as the thought skimmed through his mind, he shuddered. Not him, though. Never him. He had the battle scars to prove he wasn't suited for marriage. Of course, he had even deeper scars to prove he wasn't suited for fatherhood, biological or otherwise, but he hadn't opted out of that possibility quite yet.

“Where's Tommy?”

“Out working on the boat,” she told him. “I told him I'd call him when breakfast was ready.”

“He ought to be helping.”

“He did. He set the table.”

Which explained why silverware and napkins had been dumped in a clump at each place, Walker concluded. Apparently Daisy considered that to be close enough. She was letting the boy get away with murder.

“If he's going to do it, he ought to do it right,” Walker grumbled.

She glanced toward the table as if seeing it for the first time, then shrugged. “We don't stand on ceremony much around here.”

“And that's the way you were raised?” he asked doubtfully.

“At my house, the housekeeper set the table.”

“But I'll bet you were taught how to do it properly.”

She met his gaze with a puzzled expression.” Walker, why are you making such a big deal out of how the table's set?”

“I just don't think you should let a child get away with doing anything less than his best. It sets a bad example. Next thing you know, he'll be bringing home mediocre grades.”

“I'm not sure I see the correlation, but I'll be sure to keep a close eye on Tommy's grades,” she retorted.

“How are they now?”

“Excellent, as a matter of fact. He's very bright. Ahead of his class in reading. He brought home an A on his math test on Friday. The teacher says he's settling down again. After your sister died, he had a few rough weeks. His grades suffered.”

“But of course now that he's with you, everything's perfect again,” Walker said.

Daisy flinched. “I never said that.”

Walker saw the hurt in her eyes and stifled a curse. “I'm sorry. Obviously, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, and I'm taking it out on you.”

She regarded him knowingly. “Did you wake up that way, or did you not get any sleep at all?”

Walker frowned. “Don't even go there.”

“Where?” she inquired, her expression innocent.

Because he had no intention of being drawn into that minefield, he shifted away from the counter and headed for the door. “I'll be outside with Tommy.”

“Just in time to tell him breakfast's ready,” she said, laughter threading through her voice.

Walker sighed, called his nephew, and turned right back around to face Daisy's amused expression.

“You're getting a kick out of this, aren't you?”

“Out of what?”

“Making me crazy.”

She looked pleased with herself. “Am I?”

“It's a really bad idea, Daisy.”

“So you've said.”

“Because it is.”

“That's your opinion.”

He decided he'd better lay it on the line in plain English. “Dammit, Daisy, we are not going to have an affair and that's that.”

She beamed at him. “If you say so.”

“I do,” he said, scowling.

“That's that, then.”

Walker was pleased that he'd gotten through to her at last. But when he looked into her eyes, when he saw the amusement lurking there, he sighed heavily. He was deluding himself. This wasn't over, not by a long shot. She wasn't going to let it be.

Worse, neither was he.

S
unday dinner at Cedar Hill was a family tradition that Daisy and her brothers ignored at their peril. King expected attendance, and with rare exceptions—such as last weekend when things had been in turmoil over Tommy—they all complied.

Daisy was not looking forward to today's meal. When she had called to inform her father that she would be there only if Tommy and Walker were included, his grumbled acquiescence indicated things were not likely to go smoothly. Now she just had to get Walker's agreement. Given his mood, that wasn't going to go so well, either.

She wandered outside to find Tommy, still in his Sunday clothes from church, already hard at work on the boat with Walker. She winced at the streaks of dust on his dark pants but concluded that was a battle for another day. Right now, she had to conserve her energy for the struggle to get them out to Cedar Hill.

She decided the best approach would be to assume compliance. She'd discovered with her students that they responded best to high expectations. That would probably work well enough with Tommy. Walker, she feared, might be another story.

“We'll need to leave in an hour,” she announced very firmly, ignoring the way Walker's T-shirt stretched tightly over the wide expanse of his chest. Why did men in T-shirts and snug jeans always look so blasted
male?
And why had she never been so fixated on that before now?

When neither Walker or Tommy responded, she asked, “Did you two hear me? I said we were leaving in an hour.”

“Okay,” Tommy mumbled, not even lifting his head to gaze in her direction.

Walker's head shot up as if her words had just registered. “Leave for where?” he asked suspiciously.

“Cedar Hill.”

His gaze narrowed. “Why?”

“Sunday dinner.”

“You go on. I'll grab something in town or make myself a sandwich here.”

Tommy looked up at that. “I'll stay with Uncle Walker. A grilled cheese sandwich will be fine.”

Daisy frowned at both of them. “We are all going to Cedar Hill. We're expected.”

Walker scowled. “But—”

She cut Walker's protest off before he could get started. “I am not going over there by myself. There will be too many questions I have no intention of answering.”

“Then don't go,” Walker suggested reasonably. “You can come with me and Tommy. Or I'll even make those sandwiches right here myself. I may not be a whiz in the kitchen, but I think I can manage grilled cheese. And I saw a bag of chips on the counter.”

“And Daisy made brownies this morning and more cookies,” Tommy added enthusiastically. “Her brownies
are the best. She brings them to church sometimes for the bake sales. My mom always bought one for me.”

Daisy ignored all their flattery and played her trump card. “You can talk to Tucker,” she pointed out to Walker.

“Your brother will be there?” he asked, sounding a bit more amenable.

“Of course. Both he and Bobby will be. Sunday dinner is a Spencer family tradition. Nobody gets out of it.”

He nodded. “Okay, then. We'll all go.”

Nicely done, she commended herself as she hid a smile and turned around to go back inside.

She was almost through the door when she realized Walker was right on her heels.

“Don't think you won that round,” he whispered in her ear.

“How would you interpret what just happened?” she asked, facing him.

“Just a pragmatic decision on my part. I need to talk to Tucker. You've provided me with an opportunity to do it.”

She grinned. “Clever of me, wasn't it? Face it, until I mentioned my brother, you had no intention of going anywhere near Cedar Hill with me today. Now you're coming. So I win.”

He studied her intently. “Is everything between us going to turn into a contest?”

“I'd say that's up to you,” she replied, casting a steady look directly into his eyes. “You could give in gracefully now.”

“Give in?” he repeated, as if the words were unfamiliar.

“Or not,” she said with a shrug. “I've always found a challenge to be stimulating. How about you?”

She walked off before he could respond, but she was pretty sure she heard the sound of choked laughter trailing after her. Or maybe it was just the choking sound of a man who realized he'd just lost another round in a contest of wills with a woman he'd underestimated.

 

Walker had sidestepped Daisy all afternoon. The woman terrified him. She was playing some sort of game and hadn't bothered to tell him the rules. He knew the end result, though. He'd wind up in her bed, and they'd both regret it for the rest of their lives.

It wasn't going to happen, he vowed solemnly. Not if he had to drag in unsuspecting family members—or even perfect strangers—to make sure they were never alone together.

“Something wrong between you and Daisy?” Tucker asked with the perceptiveness of a trained observer, or maybe of a protective big brother.

Walker had finally managed to catch the sheriff outside after the strained meal they'd all shared. Despite the excellent food, it was a wonder they didn't all have indigestion from the tension around the table. King had confined himself to casting disapproving looks toward Walker and Tommy. Bobby and Tucker had remained silent. Daisy's few attempts to start a conversation had quickly dwindled out.

“Nothing important,” Walker told him. He was not going to ask Tucker to explain his sister. There were other issues that took precedence. “But I do need to ask you a couple of questions.”

“About?”

“Drugs.”

The word caught Tucker's undivided attention. “What about 'em?”

“How much trouble do you have with them around here?”

“No more than most places, I imagine. Do they exist? Yes. Do we know who's behind most of it? We have our ideas. Getting the proof has been trickier. Why?”

“Tommy was asking me about marijuana yesterday. He'd heard it was cool. Apparently that's the word around the high school. He overheard some of the older kids talking.”

“Damn,” Tucker muttered heatedly. “Did he know them?”

“He said he didn't.”

“I'd better talk to him. He might remember something else. He might be able to describe them, so I can warn the principal and the teachers to be on the lookout.”

“I'll get him,” Walker said, heading indoors.

Unfortunately, Tucker had no better luck getting details from Tommy than Walker'd had, but he did extract a promise that Tommy would come to one of them immediately if he heard anything else.

“Can I go now?” Tommy asked.

“Sure,” Tucker said. “Just remember your promise.”

After Tommy had gone, Tucker muttered another expletive.

“Yeah, that's what I said when he first brought this up,” Walker said. “I've seen the statistics. I've even seen that commercial that points out what percentage of drug use takes place among kids in the cities, then asks, ‘Where do you think the rest is?' But driving into Trinity Harbor for the first time last week, I've gotta say, I never once thought I'd find it here.”

“The good side is that we hear about a lot of it early on. We can zero in on the dealers. Parents tend to report
what they hear faster. But obviously we haven't eliminated it.”

“Maybe that's not even possible,” Walker said, feeling as despondent as Tucker sounded.

“Thanks for passing this along to me,” Tucker said. “I'll tell my deputies to keep a closer watch on the high school, too. Did you tell Daisy?”

Walker nodded. “She was afraid I was going to blame her and take Tommy away with me.”

“Are you?”

“Blaming her? Of course not.”

Tucker regarded him seriously. “What about Tommy? Are you going to take him?”

“Honestly? I don't know. I haven't yet figured out what's best for him.”

“You can't let it drag on this way forever. If you do and then decide Tommy belongs with you, you'll break my sister's heart.”

“I know that. It's the last thing I want to do.”

Tucker studied him intently, then nodded. “Okay, then. I'll trust you to do your best to see she doesn't get hurt.”

“I can't guarantee that,” Walker said.

“Life doesn't come with guarantees,” Tucker said. “Daisy's a smart woman. I'm sure she understands that, too. Just do the best you can. That'll be enough for me.”

“And for your father?” Walker asked ruefully.

Tucker grinned. “Now, there, my man, you are on your own.”

“I was afraid of that.”

 

King had spent most of Sunday regretting his decision to let Daisy bring that boy and his uncle into his home.
Something was up with those three and, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what. One thing for certain, he didn't like the way Walker was looking at his daughter, as if she were a prize he wanted to take home from the State Fair.

King didn't like the way Tucker was acting around Walker, either. He supposed a couple of lawmen were bound to have a few things in common, but those two had looked thick as thieves when they'd slipped out back after dinner. Since neither one of them smoked, he had to assume they'd gone outside because they wanted to keep their conversation private.

As if all of that hadn't been annoying enough, here he was on Monday, trying to have a peaceful cup of coffee with his lifelong friends, and all they wanted to talk about was his daughter and that Yankee cop.

“Saw 'em in here myself on Saturday,” Pete Yates said.

Pete had retired from the insurance business and obviously had way too much time on his hands, in King's opinion. “Did you now?”

“What's up with that? Looked mighty cozy if you ask me. Had the kid with 'em, just like they were a family.”

“Watch your mouth, old man,” King snapped. “There's nothing going on between Daisy and that Ames fellow. His nephew's staying with her for the time being. That's it.”

“Way I heard it, the uncle's staying with her, too. You saying that's not so?” Donnie Williams asked.

Donnie had had three wives, so his self-righteous tone grated on King's nerves.

King glowered at his companions. “He's a guest in her home. You want to make something out of that?”

“Of course not,” Donnie said, backing down at once
because he needed King's business at his feed and grain store. “Everybody around here knows Daisy is as fine a woman as there is.”

King nodded in satisfaction. “All right, then. I don't want to hear anybody suggesting otherwise.”

“Of course not,” Pete said, head bobbing like one of those ridiculous toys people stuck in the windows of their cars.

“Absolutely,” Donnie echoed.

King sat back, satisfied that for the moment he'd put the rumors to rest. Of course, they weren't going to stay dead long, not the way the old ladies in this town liked to talk. And the men were just as bad. He had the proof of that right in front of him.

As long as that man was showing up every weekend and Daisy was traipsing around town with him, there was going to be talk. If it reached the members of the school board, who knew what could happen? The morality of teachers could be a hot-button topic, especially around election time. King was pretty sure he could protect Daisy's job, but he didn't want to have to put his influence to the test. Something had to be done before things got that far along, and he thought he knew what.

The minute he left Earlene's, he headed for the Social Services building looking for Frances. She could put an end to this right here and now. She'd do it, too, unless she wanted to start her retirement in the very near future.

He found her behind a desk stacked high with paperwork, yammering into the phone about something that couldn't be half as important as what he had to discuss. He lowered himself into the chair opposite her, waited impatiently for her to notice him, then finally said, “Hang up the blasted phone, woman. We have things to talk about.”

“Excuse me,” she said quietly to whomever she'd been talking to. Her gaze lifted to clash with King's as she added pointedly, “A rather obnoxious man seems to be trying to get my attention.”

“Obnoxious? Obnoxious?” King sputtered. “Who do you think you're talking to?”

“If the shoe fits,” she declared. “Now, settle back, King, I'll be finished here in a minute. If you're in such an all-fired hurry that you can't wait, then ask to speak to somebody who isn't busy.”

King sat back and fumed. The gall of the woman. Nobody talked to King Spencer like that. Nobody! Of course, the truth was Frances always had had a lot of sass and vinegar about her. She'd told him off the first day of kindergarten and hadn't let up since.

She'd been Frances Riley back then. There were folks around who'd thought she'd been sweet on him, but King had known better. Frances had never had eyes for anybody but Skeet Jackson. The man had turned out to be a damned fine mechanic, but he'd had a bad ticker. Died and left Frances a widow before her fiftieth birthday. They'd never had any kids of their own, which, based on the way King was feeling about his offspring these days, could have been a blessing.

He studied Frances as she deliberately dragged out her conversation just to annoy him. Still a fine-looking woman, he decided. The fact that her hair had gone white aged her some, but that didn't bother him. At their age he didn't see a lot of reason for pretending that time hadn't passed by. And, to tell the truth, he liked a female with a little meat on her bones. Who wanted to go to bed and tangle with a bunch of bony elbows and knees?

The instant he realized where his thoughts had drifted, he caught himself. What business did he have thinking about Frances that way? He was here to talk her into handling this mess with Daisy, not to ask her out to dinner at the Moose Lodge.