What Price Paradise (17 page)

“You want me to yell?”

“No, no,” Buddy hastily assured him. “You just keep right on smiling.” He picked delicately at the remaining pie. “You sure did sleep late today.”

Tate grinned at him. “Yep.”

“Didn’t go fishing, either.”

“Nope.”

“Sure was a lot of tromping around going on upstairs a few minutes ago. What were you doing?”

“Just moving a few things.” Tate took a drink of coffee.

“What things?”

He was beginning to wish he’d strangled Buddy at birth. “My things.”

“Were you moving them somewhere in particular, or just dragging them up and down the hall for the exercise?”

Tate ground his teeth together. “I was moving them to Abby’s room.”

“Oh.” Buddy gave a half grin. “Can I have some money?”

“No.” Tate glared at him.

“Well, it was worth a shot. I should have asked while you were still smiling.”

Grabbing the pie, Tate finished it off while Buddy protested. “Remember, it’s Sunday. Homework.”

“It’s done.”

“Excuse me. Did I just hear you say it’s done?”

Buddy shrugged. “It was so quiet around here this morning that I got bored. Figured I might as well get it out of the way.”

“You did take care of the stock, didn’t you?”

“Of course. Don’t I always on the weekends?” He sounded insulted that Tate would even ask.

“Just checking.”

“When are you going to bring the brood mares in? Some of them are getting close.”

“First part of this next week, probably. I’ll check them tomorrow.” He pushed his chair back. “Think I’ll go see if Abby’s ready to start on the garden.”

“Need some help?”

“The more the merrier.”

They had just started out the door when the phone rang. Buddy stopped. “You go ahead. I’ll get it.”

He waited until Tate was through the door then dove at the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Squirt, what’s up?”

“Joe. Thank heavens it’s you.”

“Who were you expecting?”

“Diane.” Buddy grimaced. “I think she might have called earlier. Abby answered the phone and whoever it was hung up on her.”

“Well, hell. She tried to get in on the party last night, too. Fred Thompson was at the gate. He told me later that she showed up in that fancy convertible of hers, all gussied up fit to kill and ready to raise hell. She wasn’t too happy when Fred kept her out. He said she slung gravel for a mile taking off.”

“I’m glad he didn’t let her in,” Buddy said fiercely. “You wouldn’t believe how different things are around here today.”

“Yeah?” Joe suddenly sounded a lot more interested. “Tell me about it.”

Buddy grinned. “Well, to start with, Tate’s bed hadn’t been slept in when I got up this morning. The door to Abby’s room was still closed. And they didn’t get up until almost noon.”

Joe cackled. “Hot damn! I knew all it would take was a little time alone!”

“That’s not all. A few minutes ago Tate moved all his things into the room with Abby. And he was grinning like an idiot when he came downstairs.”

“Yee-haw!” Joe yelled, almost bursting Buddy’s ear drum. “But we aren’t out of the woods yet. I know we can’t keep an eye on them all the time, but when you’re there, try to be the one who answers the phone.”

“I could turn the answering machine on during the day while I’m at school.”

There was a second of silence while Joe thought about it. “No, don’t do that. If Diane gets the machine she might be tempted to leave Tate a message. I don’t think she’ll do much during the weekdays anyway. She knows Tate will be out working and she needs him for an audience.”

“What if she shows up here in the evening?”

“Well, much as I’d like to, we can’t keep a guard posted at the gate. Tate might get suspicious. But if she does show up, whatever you do, don’t leave her and Tate alone together. You stick to him like you’re joined at the hip no matter what either of them says. If you have time, call me. I can be there in five minutes.”

“You got it.”

“I’ll let you go. Keep me posted, okay?”

“Okay. Bye, Joe.”

* * * * *

“Is that sanitary?” Abby wrinkled her nose as she watched Buddy dump yet another wheelbarrow full of horse manure on the garden site.

Tate grinned at her. “Take my word for it. It’s one of the best natural fertilizers around.” He had used the tractor to break the ground up, but later switched to the hand tiller. “That should be enough, Buddy.” As soon as he worked the last load of manure into the dirt, he shut the tiller off and picked up a tape measure.

“Here, you two stretch this out and I’ll drive in the stakes.”

“What are we doing this for?” Abby held one end of the tape while Buddy walked to the other end of the garden.

“The rows have to be far enough apart to get the tiller between them. When we get both ends staked, we’ll tie a string from the ones at this end to the ones at the other end. That will keep the rows straight.”

“I didn’t realize it was going to be this complicated.” She watched the muscles ripple in Tate’s back as he swung the hammer. He’d discarded his shirt within thirty minutes of starting to work and now sweat gleamed on his bronzed skin. She was still having trouble believing she’d actually agreed to let him move into her room. And even more trouble believing he really wanted to.

Last night it had seemed natural to have him there, comfortable even. For once she hadn’t felt quite so alone. But the thought of deliberately, intentionally, going to bed together was making her stomach quiver with nerves. Would they have to get ready for bed together? In the same room? What would they talk about?

Another thought hit her and she almost groaned. What did he sleep in? She was pretty sure he didn’t sleep in his jeans every night and she hadn’t seen any pajamas in the wash. That meant… Oh, God. He slept nude. Why hadn’t she thought about that before she’d agreed to this?

For that matter, what was she going to sleep in? She only had two worn-out nightshirts. And that gown. She didn’t think she could bring herself to wear that particular item again. Until she could come up with something else, it was going to have to be the nightshirts.

She’d wandered into the room across from hers earlier just to take a look at it. To her surprise, there had been dozens of bolts of material stacked up on a table. And the sewing machine was an old treadle type. She’d examined it closely and it hadn’t looked as if it would be that difficult to operate. Maybe she could—

“Abby?”

She tore her gaze away from Tate’s chest, suddenly realizing she’d been staring at him intently.

“What were you thinking about so hard?”

“Oh.” She fought the blush that threatened. “I looked in your mother’s sewing room earlier. There’s lots of material in there. Do you think it would be okay if I used some of it?”

“Sure. Use all you want. No one else is going to.” He gestured at the row of stakes. “We’re ready to move to the other side.”

“Okay.” Abby lifted her end of the tape measure and walked to the other edge of the garden, watching as Tate lifted the hammer again. Much to her embarrassment, she appeared to be developing a fixation on his body. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

But then, she hadn’t been able to for a long time now. The difference was, when she’d watched him at Delly’s she’d been under no illusions. She’d been able to control her feelings because she’d known there was no hope for her where he was concerned. Just being able to see him occasionally had been enough for her.

Never in a million years would she have dreamed they might end up married. Part of her was desperately afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep her feelings for him hidden. Especially when she had to share the same bed with him, and when even Tate himself seemed determined to bridge the gap between them.

She couldn’t let it happen, didn’t dare risk it. He might honestly think things were over with Diane, but Abby knew he still loved her. In spite of what Tate had said last night, her time here was limited. And when she had to leave, it would only make it harder for her if she really let herself love him.

But, oh, it wasn’t going to be easy. She let her gaze run over him, from his coal black hair right down to those muscular legs that seemed to go on for miles. That odd little coil of expectancy twisted inside her again and mentally she grimaced. Why did it feel like she’d been waiting all her life for something wonderful and mysterious and now it was almost within her grasp?

Her gaze moved back to Tate’s face and she suddenly realized he was watching her, had been watching her for some time now. A faint smile lifted the corners of his lips. Instantly, Abby’s cheeks burst into flames. Tate’s grin widened. Damn it all, the man knew exactly what she’d been thinking. And she had to go to bed with him tonight, every night. God help her.

Abby chewed on her bottom lip as she surveyed the material spread out on the kitchen table. There was no way she could finish a gown by tonight, but at least she could get started and maybe have one ready by tomorrow night. She’d chosen a white cotton from the stack upstairs and, if she worked it right, she could get several gowns out of it with enough left over for something else.

She picked up the scissors and began cutting, trying to concentrate on what she was doing instead of on Tate. It wasn’t easy. He was sitting in the living room pretending to read the newspaper, but she could feel his gaze on her every time she moved. She was beginning to feel like a bug under a microscope.

Buddy strolled though the kitchen, stopping at the fridge to take out a can of soda. “Nice party last night,” he commented. “Everyone really liked you.”

“They did?” She looked up.

“Yep. Don’t be surprised if you have a steady stream of visitors from now on.”

Abby smiled. “That would be nice. I’ve never really had any friends before. We moved too much at first, then later I was too busy.”

“Just don’t forget you promised to go to the library with me. I thought maybe we could go Tuesday evening.”

“What are you going to the library for?” Tate asked from the living room.

Buddy turned slightly. “Abby is going to help me find some books for my term paper in history. It’s due at the end of next week.”

Tate shook the newspaper out then turned the page. “I might go with you. There are some errands I need to run. I can do those while you two are busy.”

Abby smothered a grin when Buddy rolled his eyes. “Big brother strikes—” His words were cut off when the phone rang. Buddy almost knocked her down getting to it and she wondered if he were expecting a call from Amy Fletcher.

“Hello?” There was a slight pause as he listened.

“Nope. Gone and won’t be back for two weeks at least.” He slammed the phone down.

Abby stared at him in puzzlement and she could see Tate doing the same thing. Tate spoke first.

“Who was that?”

“Prank call.” Buddy took a long drink from his soda.

“What did they say?”

“Wanted to know if this was the town mortuary. Said they had to speak to the mortician right away.”

Tate started to get up. “Maybe I should try that star sixty-nine and see who it was.”

“Don’t bother,” Buddy said hastily. “Sounded like it was coming from a pay phone in town. I could hear kids laughing in the background.”

Tate settled back into the chair but he was watching Buddy intently. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” His brother stretched. “Well, I think I’ll go upstairs and watch TV for a while before bed. ‘Night.”

Abby watched him go, then carefully folded the material. “I think I’ll go take a bath. I feel like I’ve still got dirt all over me.”

“I know what you mean. But the garden does look good.” He smiled at her. “I’ll be up in a bit.”

She nodded and picked up the material, taking it upstairs with her. It looked like he was at least going to give her a chance to get ready for bed without him watching every move. For that she was grateful.

Hurrying through the bath, she pulled her nightshirt on then opened the door a crack and peeked into the hall. When she discovered it was empty, she dashed to her room and jumped into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. And then she waited.

* * * * *

As soon as Abby left the room, Tate gave up all pretense of reading the paper. Quietly, he listened to the noise from upstairs. When the sound of running water shut off, he glanced at the phone.

Buddy wasn’t any better at lying than Abby was. Whoever that had been on the phone, it was no prank call. He would put money on it. And he suspected he knew who it was. All he had to do to prove it was punch in three numbers.

Tate stood and walked to the phone, his hand reaching for the receiver. Suddenly he paused. Did he really want to know? What good would it do even if it were her?

He rubbed his face tiredly. It had been a good day today, better than any he’d spent in recent memory. He, Abby and Buddy were finally starting to become a real family. Soon there would be a fourth member, if Abby stayed. If things worked out, she had said, and he was pretty sure continuing to have anything to do with Diane wasn’t on her list of things working out.