About That Man (8 page)

“He must have been terrified.”

Daisy shook her head. “I don't think he really understood, not even when the ambulance came to take her to the hospital. Anna-Louise stayed with him. She was the one who told him when it was over. She took him home and kept him with her until after the funeral. Then Frances stepped in.”

“Why didn't he stay on with Anna-Louise?”

“Oh, I think she would have let him stay in a heartbeat. So would Richard. But Frances made them take a good long look at the precedent they'd be setting. Anna-Louise has a good heart. If there's trouble, she's the first one there. People will take advantage of that as it is. Frances warned her that unless she was prepared to be a foster parent to every child in trouble, she needed to take a step back.”

Walker regarded her intently. “And what did Frances tell you?”

Daisy shrugged. “Nothing I wanted to hear.”

He grinned. “Yes, I imagine you march to your own drummer.”

“I haven't always,” she admitted. “When you grow up with King Spencer for a daddy, you march to his, at least until you decide to take charge of your own life.”

“How old were you when you made that decision?”

Daisy debated lying, then decided it couldn't possibly make any difference. He might as well hear the truth now. “Thirty,” she admitted.

She almost enjoyed Walker's shocked expression. “Yes, that's right. As I told you yesterday, my first significant rebellion was the day I moved out, and that was earlier this year. The second came the day I found Tommy in my garage and decided to let him stay. I wasn't kidding about any of that. I knew my father would be scandalized and I did it anyway.”

“I see,” he said, his expression thoughtful. “Then Tommy's just part of some battle you're having with your father?”

“Absolutely not!” Daisy said indignantly. “Tommy is not a means to an end. He's a little boy who needed someone to love him. No one else was available, so I decided to step in.”

“How noble of you.”

“There was nothing noble about it.” She scowled at Walker, resentful of his deliberate misunderstanding of her intentions. “This isn't about duty or obligation or rebellion. It's about Tommy needing a home and someone to love him. You might keep that in mind while you're deciding what you intend to do, Detective. If you're not prepared to be a real father figure to that boy, then leave him with someone who's committed to providing him with love and stability.”

“In other words, you.”

Her gaze clashed with his. “That's exactly right.” She stood up and brushed the sand from her clothes. “You and Tommy can bring these things back to the house when you come,” she said stiffly before stalking away.

She felt Walker's puzzled gaze on her as she crossed the beach and went back up the hill. His suggestion that she'd only taken on Tommy to make some sort of a point with her father was outrageous. She resented the implication.

And she could have proved him wrong if she'd just told him the real reason she had taken Tommy in, but what woman wanted to admit that she was so desperate for a child that she had eagerly latched on to the opportunity that had been presented to her? She did not intend to have Walker Ames thinking of her as some sort of pathetic spinster, even if that was the way she sometimes saw herself.

Besides, with every day that passed, she was coming to love Tommy for himself and not just because he fulfilled a need in her. With every minute they spent together, she realized that she did have it in her to nurture a child, to provide a loving home.

When no one had come along after Billy broke their engagement, she had begun doubting herself, wondering if maybe he hadn't been right to leave her, if she wasn't emotionally as well as physically barren. Rationally, she had known how absurd that was, but her aching heart had been filled with questions about God's purpose in taking away her ability to have a child.

She had asked Anna-Louise about that at one point, in a rare moment of vulnerability. It had been a difficult moment for both of them, because Anna-Louise, for all her wisdom, had had no answers for her. And the explanation that God's reasons would become clear in His time had done nothing to ease her sorrow.

Now, at last, she knew. God had intended for her to be
there for Tommy, a little boy who was desperately in need of someone to fill in for the mother he'd lost.

Still disgruntled by her conversation with Walker, she spent the rest of the afternoon working around the house, muttering about Walker's assumption and her own failure to make her point more forcefully. She cleaned and dusted and did laundry. She had just yanked out the silver and started to polish it just to work out her frustrations, when Bobby showed up. He took one look at the silver spread out on the kitchen table and started to back right out the door.

“Get back in here,” she ordered her brother.

“Not when you're in one of those moods.”

“What moods?”

“When the silver polish comes out, it only means one thing.”

She stared at him blankly. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“It means you're fed up with one of us. Who is it this time? Has Daddy been over here bugging you?”

Daisy honestly had no idea what he was talking about. “I haven't seen Daddy since Tommy moved in.”

“Tucker, then?”

She shook her head.

“Well, it can't be me. I just got here.” Suddenly his expression changed. “Uh-oh. Not Walker? You barely know the man. What's he done to get you in a dither?”

“I am not in a dither,” she insisted.

“Sis, you're polishing the silver. It's a dead giveaway.”

She impatiently sorted the knives, forks and spoons back into their tidy, lined box. “It is not. I was just…”

Words failed her. She'd had no idea that she resorted
to polishing the things in times of stress. No wonder her silverware was never tarnished. There was a lot of stress associated with growing up at Cedar Hill, even with growing up in a tranquil place like Trinity Harbor where Spencer behavior was always in the spotlight.

“Where's Walker?” Bobby asked, wisely letting the topic of her mood drop.

“Down by the river with Tommy.”

“They're getting along?”

“Well enough. I think they're making big plans for that pitiful boat Tommy found.”

“Does that bother you?”

“The boat? Or the fact that they're getting along?”

“Either one.”

“I'd prefer that the boat got washed out to sea in the dead of night.”

“And their relationship? Does that upset you?”

“Don't be ridiculous. Why should it?”

“Don't fib, Daisy,” her brother scolded. “I know you too well. You were hoping they'd hate each other on sight.”

“I was not!” she said, aghast that he would accuse her of such a thing.

Bobby grinned. “Were, too.”

“I am not going to engage in such childish bickering.”

His expression sobered. “Okay, no bickering. But, Sis, maybe it's for the best.”

“What?”

“Walker and Tommy getting along. They do belong together. They're family. We were brought up to understand what that means.”

Daisy sank down heavily and sighed. “I know that.” She met her brother's worried gaze. “But Walker hasn't
said a thing about taking Tommy with him. They're getting along okay, yes, but that's as far as it's gone. I don't want him raising Tommy's hopes and then breaking his heart.”

“What about yours?”

“This isn't about me.”

“Of course it is. Don't you think I know how badly that idiot Inscoe hurt you when he broke your engagement? Tucker's not the only sensitive one in the family. I can read between the lines as well as anyone. Oh, you put on a brave front, told everyone it was for the best, but I saw the haunted look in your eyes.”

“Bobby, I don't want to talk about Billy. That was over with a million years ago. If he didn't live right here in town, I'd never think about him at all.”

“Okay, forget Billy. Let's talk about the real issue.”

“Which is?”

“Kids. Babies. Nobody deserves to be a mother more than you do. As little as you were when Mama died, you did your best to replace her for Tucker and me. I'll never forget the way you'd scold us when you bandaged our cuts or spend your Saturdays in the kitchen baking cookies because you didn't think the housekeeper did it the way Mama did.”

Tears stung Daisy's eyes. She hadn't realized that either of her brothers had really noticed her efforts. She thought they'd taken them for granted. “I did that as much for me as I did for you,” she told him. “I wanted things to be like they were before she died. When I smelled those cookies baking, if I closed my eyes I could pretend she was in the kitchen.”

“Me, too,” Bobby said, squeezing her hand. “But the point I was trying to make was, that if you want to have children, you don't need a man to do it.”

Daisy might have laughed if his expression hadn't been so serious. “Oh, really?”

He frowned. “I don't mean that. You can always adopt, even as a single woman. Tucker and I would back you, and we'd be there as father figures for any child you had.”

“Will you back me if I fight for Tommy?”

He glanced outside before replying, and whatever he saw made him pause. He beckoned her over. “Before I answer, take a look.”

Daisy saw Walker and Tommy coming up from the river, dragging that pathetic rowboat with them. Whatever Walker was saying, Tommy was hanging on every word, his expression rapt. Daisy felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Walker hasn't said he wanted him,” she said, clinging to one last shred of hope.

“Oh, Daisy,” Bobby murmured, his arm around her shoulders. “Don't wait until he does before preparing yourself to let Tommy go.”

F
or a boat that was falling apart, the blasted thing weighed a ton, Walker thought as he and Tommy struggled to drag it up the sloping lawn. He'd concluded that they could get more work done if they weren't constantly dragging tools back and forth to the beach. He probably should have asked Daisy how she felt about that, but he was still smarting from the way she'd told him off in that prim little way of hers before stalking off and leaving him with the uncomfortable task of trying to explain to his nephew why she'd run off.

“You didn't make her mad, did you?” Tommy had asked worriedly.

“Maybe a little,” he'd admitted, figuring the tension once they returned to the house was bound to be thick enough that even a kid would discern it.

“How come?”

“We just disagreed about something,” Walker said. “She'll get over it.”

Tommy had regarded him doubtfully. “I don't know. I heard that Mrs. Jackson say that Daisy's like a dog with a bone once she gets an idea in her head.”

“She'll get over it,” Walker had repeated emphatically. “Have you ever known her to stay mad at you for long?”

“I guess not.”

“Of course not,” Walker said firmly. “Now let's get this boat up closer to the house.”

Fortunately that task had pretty much prevented any further conversation. When they'd maneuvered the boat close to the garage, Walker sank gratefully onto the edge of it, only to look up and see Bobby Spencer regarding him with a great deal of mirth.

“Fine time you picked to show up,” Walker grumbled.

“Actually, I've been here awhile.”

“I don't suppose you saw us struggling with this sucker, did you?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. I figured you two were bonding.”

Walker scowled at him.

“What's bonding?” Tommy wanted to know.

“Getting to know each other,” Bobby explained.

“Oh, yeah,” Tommy said, losing interest. “I gotta have something to drink. You want something, Uncle Walker?”

“Water, beer, cola—anything that's cold and wet.”

“Okay. I'll be back.” The door slammed behind him.

“Looks as if things have improved between you two since last night,” Bobby said.

“I suppose.”

“Do you have a plan?”

Walker's gaze narrowed. He had a feeling he was about to get more of the advice the people in this town liked to dole out indiscriminately. “What sort of a plan?”

“For the future. You know, where Tommy's concerned.”

A shudder washed through him. He was making it through the weekend one minute at a time. He wasn't ready to grapple with the future. “No, no plan.”

“Don't you think you should start considering one?”

“Hey, give me a break. This is all new to me. I found out about Tommy less than a week ago. I met him for the first time yesterday.”

Bobby sat down beside him. “I can understand that, but you can't leave the boy dangling forever.”

“Is it Tommy you're worried about, or your sister?”

Bobby regarded him with approval. “Both of them, as a matter of fact.”

“If everybody would cut me a little slack, maybe I could think this through,” Walker said. “Instead, I get a call out of the blue telling me my sister is dead, that I need to get down here and talk about her son's future. I get here and I've got people telling me I need to bond with a boy I knew nothing about, and other people…” He glanced toward the house. “Other people who would just as soon I vanish and never show my face around here again.”

“Yeah, it's a tough call, all right,” Bobby said, though there was little evidence of sympathy in his tone. “But dragging it out isn't going to make it any easier on anybody, even you.” He slanted a look toward Walker. “The way I see it, it's kinda like a splinter, you know? You can take your time and wiggle it out, or you can get some tweezers and just yank. In the long run the fastest way is best. Know what I mean?”

Walker was tempted to chuckle, but Bobby's expression was too serious. “I know what you mean.”

“So?”

“Sorry, but I think this is one time when we all need to take our time and figure out what's best. There's no point in uprooting Tommy only to find out there's no way in hell I can make it work. Then what would happen to him?”

Bobby released a heartfelt sigh. “Much as I hate to admit it, you have a point. Being a cop is not exactly a nine-to-five job, not even for Tucker, and it must be even crazier for you in D.C.”

“You got that right.”

They sat there side by side in silence for quite a while, before Bobby finally turned his attention to the rowboat.

“Where the devil did Tommy get this thing?” he asked. “It looks even worse than I thought the night I helped him haul it over to the beach in front of Daisy's.”

“Apparently it washed ashore. Tommy claimed it.”

“Too bad,” Bobby said.

“Isn't it?” Walker agreed. “Don't worry. I volunteered you to help us fix it up.”

“Me?”

“You run a marina, don't you?”

“I own it. I don't exactly get out and scrape the hulls when the boats are in dry dock.”

“Doesn't matter,” Walker said, determined to have backup. He figured if Bobby was going to meddle, then he could darn well provide a little assistance, too. “You know people who do.”

“It's not worth hiring people to fix this boat up. It ought to be chopped up for firewood.”

“You want to tell Tommy that?”

“Not me,” Bobby said fervently.

“Okay, then, here's the plan I do have. You get the advice from the experts at the marina. We'll do the work.”

“We, as in you and Tommy?” Bobby asked hopefully.

“No, as in all three of us. And some kid named Gary.”

Bobby sighed again. “I was afraid of that.”

Just then the sound of a speedboat shattered the after
noon quiet. Tommy came racing outside, his gaze locked on the river even as he handed Walker a can of cola.

“Wow, will you look at that?” he said in an awed voice as the boat shot down the river toward the bay.

“Some kid's going entirely too fast,” Walker observed, but when he glanced at Bobby he thought he saw something more than disapproval in the other man's eyes. “What?”

Bobby shook his head, shooting a warning look in Tommy's direction.

“You know who that boat belongs to?” Walker asked.

“I've seen it around a few times.”

“And something about it makes you uneasy?”

Bobby shrugged. “I'm probably imagining things. Just because a boat can go fast doesn't mean it's anything more than a pleasure craft, right?”

Walker let the matter drop because that was obviously what Bobby wanted, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. Bobby Spencer didn't strike him as a man prone to imagining fires when he hadn't seen
and
smelled the smoke. If something about that boat bothered him, then it was probably worth looking into.

Of course, Bobby's brother was the sheriff. If Bobby really suspected trouble, he could turn to Tucker. It wasn't any of Walker's business. He had more than enough trouble on his hands as it was.

 

Daisy stared out the kitchen window at her brother, Tommy and Walker. Her breath caught at the sight of Tommy's uncle, who'd stripped off his shirt sometime since she'd left him on the beach. Had he done that just to make her crazy? Surely it hadn't gotten that hot since
she'd come inside. Of course, right now, the kitchen felt as if the temperature had shot up twenty degrees in the last five minutes.

“Don't look at him,” she warned herself, but it was easier said than done. Her gaze kept straying back to him as the three of them stood side by side, examining that pathetic excuse for a rowboat as carefully as if it were the
QE2.
Tommy's expression was downright reverent.

That the men were willing to indulge Tommy's fantasy—and to assure that he didn't drown—touched her in ways she didn't care to examine too closely. She was beginning to have a hard time remembering that the end result of all this closeness could be losing Tommy.

“Daisy!”

The shout from the yard drew her attention. With a great deal of reluctance given the way her last contact with Walker had ended, she stepped outside and immediately felt his intense gaze searing her. She forced herself to look at her brother.

“What's up?”

“You know all about this boat deal, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you've given it your blessing?”

She caught a glimpse of Tommy's worried expression and pushed aside her own doubts. “As long as Tommy follows the rules. That boat doesn't go anywhere near the river until he's been given the go-ahead by one of you. And a grown-up has to be around.”

“Fair enough,” Walker said. He looked at Tommy. “Is it a deal?”

“I guess,” Tommy said, sounding sullen. But a sharp glance from his uncle had him adding, “Yes, sir.”

“Okay, then,” Bobby said. “Tommy, you and I will take a ride over to the marina and see if we can get some advice on what supplies we need.”

“Isn't Uncle Walker coming?”

“No, I think he and Daisy have some things to discuss.”

“We do?” Walker and Daisy asked simultaneously.

Bobby grinned. “Seems that way to me.”

He headed for his car, with Tommy skipping ahead of him, before Daisy could think of a single argument to either stop them from leaving her alone with Walker or get him to leave with them.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, trying to keep her gaze away from the way his well-muscled chest gleamed in the sunlight. This was one policeman who definitely did not exist on coffee and doughnuts, not with that body.

Walker lifted his can of cola. “I have something.” A grin tugged at his mouth. “Are you nervous for some reason?”

“Nervous? Why would I be nervous?”

“I don't know. I'm no threat to you.”

She sighed at that. He was wrong, in more ways than one. She walked to the far end of the rowboat and sat on the edge of the bow. “You and Tommy seem to be doing better.”

“He's a good kid. I have a hard time believing that he was raised by my sister.”

“Why on earth would you say that?”

“Because Beth did a lot of stuff when she was a kid. She got mixed up with Ryan Flanagan, who was nobody's idea of a decent human being. He was one of those paranoid, antigovernment, antieverything guys. I know he had her into drugs for a while, and who knows what else. Then he got her pregnant and dumped her.”

“That was hardly her fault. And how old was she when she got mixed up with him?”

“Sixteen.”

“A lot of us make bad choices when we're sixteen.”

Walker met her gaze. “I'll bet you didn't.”

Daisy smiled at his confident tone. “You'd be wrong.”

“What did you do? Throw toilet paper streamers in a neighbor's tree? Climb the water tower and paint the class year on it?”

“Nothing like that,” she conceded. “But I did fall for a man who turned out not to have much character.” She saw no point in acknowledging the role her father had played in planting Billy Inscoe in her path as often as possible.

Walker's hand stilled midway to his lips. The condensation on the can of cola dripped onto his chest. Daisy watched in fascination as that single drop of moisture slid slowly down toward the waistband of his jeans.

“Did you marry him?” he asked eventually.

“No, but only because he broke the engagement.”

“Why?”

Daisy didn't want to share this particular part of her life with a man she barely knew. She wasn't entirely comfortable with being barren herself. How could a man possibly understand? And if she told him, would he see too much about her motivation in wanting Tommy? More than likely.

“It's complicated,” she said eventually.

“Broken relationships usually are.”

“Do you have much contact with your ex-wife?” she asked, relieved to be able to shift the attention away from her and onto him.

“Not if I can help it.”

“Not even for the sake of your children?”

“Believe me, that is not a concept that holds any relevance for Laurie.”

“How terribly sad.”

He regarded her with a penetrating look. “You really mean that, don't you?”

“Of course.”

“Why? What could my relationship with my kids possibly matter to you?”

“It just seems to me that in any acrimonious divorce it's the kids who wind up suffering, and none of what happened is their fault.”

“To hear their mother tell it, I wasn't much of a father before the divorce. She doesn't think anything's changed.” He shrugged. “I probably shouldn't tell you that. You'll probably race right on over to share it with Frances Jackson, but I can save you the trouble. I told her myself.”

Daisy was shocked by his accusation. “Why would I do that?”

“You don't want me to take Tommy, do you?”

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“No. I love having him here. But I also know he needs to know he has family out there.”

Walker shot her a rueful grin. “Out there? Not front and center?”

“You know what I meant.”

“Do I? Are you really that selfless, Daisy Spencer?”

“Why do you ask that as if it's some sort of crime?”

He shrugged. “Not a crime, just unusual. Frankly, it bugs the daylights out of me.”

She tried not to let the comment hurt, but it did. She
fought to keep him from realizing it, though. “I can see where it might,” she said lightly. “Since you're so obviously unfamiliar with the concept. Feeling a little guilty, perhaps?”