TWENTY

ONCE HE’D CRADLED THE RECEIVER, Gardner reached for the report he’d tossed on his bedside table. Having Harley investigated had been a gut reaction, a business decision, but one made weeks ago. Before he knew her. Before she’d become more than business to him, more than the means to an end.

He scanned the typed lines a second time, then spun the single-spaced sheet toward the bed. The investigation had turned up nothing; reading the summary proved a waste of time. Time better spent adjusting the sprung hinge on Merlin’s stall, he thought, shrugging back into his sweat-damp shirt.

He should’ve saved himself the effort of opening the envelope in the first place. Nothing the investigator revealed came as any surprise. But why would it? Harley had been open and honest with him from the first, trusting in spite of her irresponsible parents.

So what’s your excuse, pal?

Gardner rubbed the ache behind his eyes. He’d never thought himself the type to get caught up in an obsession. But what else could he call the tightening in his chest, the fierce burning pain in his gut, each time Harley came to mind?

If he called it love, he’d be as weak as his father. And though Tyler or Jud or Camelot may have borne the brunt of his faults, making the mistake that destroyed his father had never been a concern. One thing in his life had been a given.

He’d made damn sure to become a stronger man than one who would throw away life on an intangible emotion called love.

Later that evening, Gardner walked into the den, the investigator’s report rolled tight in one hand. He braced his forearm on the mantel, tapped the tube of paper against the polished wood, and watched the low-burning flames lick away at the first dry wood of fall.

Resin popped and ashes settled. Sweet smoke plumed. Tiny sparks drifted, lighting the firebox like fireflies blinking brightly in the prairie night.

“Thought a little fire might take the nip out of the room.”

Gardner glanced around. Behind him, Jud shifted in his recliner, adjusting the woolen throw spread over his lap.

“Are you feeling any better?” Gardner asked.

Placing a strip of leather between the pages of his Louis L’Amour Western, Jud removed his bifocals, folded them, then set both book and glasses on the table at his side.

“Nothing that a shot of Maalox wouldn’t cure. Or better yet, Jack Daniel’s.” Pressing his fist to his stomach, he smiled up at Gardner. “Sometimes I can’t remember why I gave up drinking.”

“I remember,” Gardner answered, taking in the exhaustion etched around his uncle’s eyes. “And I guarantee you need rest more than whiskey. Sounds like you’ve got a touch of the same thing Harley does.”

“Ahh,” Jud began, drawing the word out meaningfully. “So you two are still talking.”

Shoulders back, Gardner forced away the familiar tension creeping into his bones. “Any reason we shouldn’t be?”

Jud shook his head. “Not a one comes to mind. But you haven’t made mention of the girl since she went home. That’s all.”

“Last I looked, I was entitled to a private life.”

“Which is why I haven’t asked.”

Frustration riding high and hard, Gardner dropped down to sit on the edge of the hearth. He was being a jerk and Jud deserved better. Besides, he preferred to use his uncle as a sounding board—not a punching bag.

Elbows braced on his knees, Gardner twisted the report between both fists and exhaled. Even putting the thought into words was tough. “Harley doesn’t want kids, Jud.”

“No crime in that.” Jud lifted one brow, deflecting the defensive comeback hovering on Gardner’s tongue. “Has she told you why?”

“She said the demands of her career limit the time she’d have to put in raising a family.”

Lowering the recliner’s footrest, Jud sat forward. “Sounds like the girl’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“Which is why she’d make such a great mother,” Gardner replied, twisting the paper tighter. “She even talked about turning her antique business into a hobby, or part-time thing.”

“You mean if she had a husband to do the providing?”

“Yeah.”

Jud sloughed off the blanket, gave it a quick fold, and stuffed it under the lamp table before turning his keen gaze Gardner’s way. “Then her career isn’t all that’s standing in the way?”

Gardner’s gaze dropped to the floor. “No.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“She wants more than stability or financial security.” Which was the hardest part to accept. That an intangible stood in the way of his goal. “In her words, she wants everything.”

“You mean she wants love.” Jud propped his forearms on his knees. “I was hoping you and Tyler would be the ones to break this curse.”

Frowning, Gardner asked, “What curse?”

“The Barnes men just never have gotten it right. We either love too much, like your dad or not at all.”

“Like you,” Gardner stated, curiosity building.

“It’s a weakness, either way you look at it.”

Gardner let out a snort. “You’re about the last man I’d ever call weak.”

“Guess that depends on your definition. I sure wasn’t strong enough to stand up for what I wanted.”

“A woman?”

A wry grin brought a dimple to Jud’s whiskered cheek. “What else?”

Rising, Gardner paced the short length of the hearth. “You’ve never said anything. In all these years. I had no idea you’d been involved with anyone special.”

“Like you said, we’re all entitled to a private life.”

Touché. “And you gave up yours to look after Ty and me.”

“Taking on you and Ty isn’t the reason I ended up alone. In fact, bringing up you boys helped keep me from going off the deep end any worse than I did with the drinking. That’s what family’s all about.”

“I’m glad you managed to see it that way.”

“Gardner,” Jud began, reaching out one hand to slow Gardner’s troubled stride. “Don’t let your father’s weakness become yours.”

“That’s one thing you don’t need to worry about. I have no intention of falling in love.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Gardner finally stopped, his back to the fire. “I don’t understand.”

“Love didn’t destroy your father. He destroyed himself. When your mother died, he quit. Just gave up on everything.” Jud’s gaze took on a faraway look, focused not on Gardner but on years gone by.

“He’d been a stubborn man before he married. A mulish, hell-raising kid before that. And you can’t tell me that down inside he couldn’t have found that old cussedness and used it to make it through.”

“Then he was weak.” Gardner bit off the accusation, crushing the tube of paper he still held in one fist.

“Only because he didn’t try.”

“And what about you?”

Piercing and shrewd despite his illness, Jud’s gaze honed in on Gardner’s. “I took the easy way out. Same as you.”

“I don’t know if I want to hear this,” Gardner mumbled, turning to the side and slanting a glance at the fire.

“I’m sure you don’t. But you need to before you make the same mistakes I did.”

Jud joined Gardner at the hearth. With one fist braced on the mantel, he leaned to stir up the ashes. The tip of the poker glowed as red as the coals by the time he set it back in the stand.

“I saw what your mother did to your dad. I don’t know if it came from insecurity or pure devotion but the woman wouldn’t make a move without him. She carried him lunch every day, stayed with him while he ate, then more often than not, the two of them disappeared for the rest of the afternoon. Even on her weekly trips to town for supplies, she wanted him along.”

“And he went.”

“That he did. Turning his back on business, and you boys, to be at her beck and call.”

“And she had it just as bad.” Gardner propped one boot on the hearth, feeling Jud’s gaze with the same intensity as the heat from the blaze. “She didn’t have time for anyone else. Especially not for Tyler or me.”

“Considering all you’ve gone through, it’s not surprising you hold some resentment.”

“Resentment?” Gardner heaved a disgusted snort, the leaping flames failing to soothe, only reminding him again of the heat Harley stirred in his soul “That’s a word that barely begins to cover what I feel.”

“Or what you don’t feel.”

He cast a sideways glance at his uncle “What’s that cryptic remark supposed to mean?”

“That you’re all business, Gardner. You think with your head, and never with your heart.”

“A fact I’m damned proud of.”

“So was I, once upon a time. After seeing what your folks did to each other, not to mention to you and Ty, and thinking I know everything, which most of the time I do,” Jud added with a weak grin, “I decided years before your father’s funeral that no woman would ever trap me.”

“Sounds like a smart decision.”

“So I thought at the time.”

Gardner took in the look of regret aging Jud’s expression. “Then one did.”

“Yeah. One did.” Rubbing a hand down his jaw, Jud returned to his chair. Once seated, he stared up at Gardner. “And I gnawed off my own leg to get away.”

Gardner absorbed Jud’s words; their meaning hit too close to home. “You regret it?”

“I’m still limping, boy.”

“You think about her a lot?” Gardner asked, swallowing hard and wondering when a day would pass that he didn’t think of Harley.

“Every day of my life,” Jud answered, reaching for the woolen throw and tucking it around his thighs.

That’s what he’d thought. No, what he’d feared. He tossed the report on the fire and watched the flames reduce the paper to fine ash. “What was her name?”

“Ellie.” Jud settled back in the chair. His lashes drifted down “And she had the prettiest bluebonnet eyes.”

Gardner stepped inside Golden’s Touch with Harley on his mind. Turning to close the door, he caught sight of the front window’s seasonal display and smiled.

Miniature wooden elves and antique ornaments hung on lace ribbons from a garland of pine boughs with the same sense of whimsy he’d heard in Harley’s voice when she’d talked about loving Christmas.

He was going to have to think of something to get her. A gift as original as the bed her parents sent. Or as sensually extravagant as the presents she received from her sister.

One glance around the store told him she didn’t need anything in the way of antiques. That would make as much sense as giving Jud a leather-bound set of Louis L’Amour novels. No matter the value, a gift wasn’t a gift if you couldn’t enjoy it. Or if it didn’t come with a piece of the giver attached. Damn, but he was philosophical these days.

Hearing the click of heels on the buffed wooden floor, Gardner tensed, but it wasn’t Harley he smelled. He schooled his features into a pleasant expression and glanced around into the face of an exquisitely beautiful woman.

“May I help you?” she asked, her ink black hair swinging to frame her jaw.

Nice legs, he thought to himself, taking in the short length of her suit skirt. The ivory lace did exotic things to her figure and face. But she wasn’t Harley.

And he wanted Harley. “I’m looking for Miss Golden.”

The woman’s smile was genuine but cautious. “I’m sorry, Miss Golden is unavailable at the moment. May I leave her a message?”

Unavailable? Not likely. “We have an appointment.”

Frowning, the woman turned away. “She didn’t mention an appointment to me. Let me check her calendar.”

Gardner followed her to the rolltop desk set up in a corner of the store. She flipped through the wirebound pages of Harley’s calendar and ran one nail over each line of today’s date.

“I’m sorry. Miss Golden didn’t make a notation of your appointment. In fact, it appears she has the next three days clear.”

Exactly. “I’m that appointment.”

“Ah.” Mischievousness lit her almond-shaped eyes, though her demeanor remained all business. “Then you must be Mr. Barnes. I’m Mona Tedrick, Harley’s assistant.”

Gardner shook her offered hand, detecting a challenge in the firm grip—and doing his best to overlook the diamond stud in her nose. “Where can I find Harley?”

Pursing her lips, Mona pulled free. “Then she didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Mona’s gaze was steady and direct. Almost too direct. “I’m sure she meant to call you last night but her change in plans came up so suddenly. I’m not surprised that she forgot a few details.”

Gardner wasn’t a detail “Miss Tedrick, is it? I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on knowing more. Where is Harley?”

Her shift to nervousness was so subtle Gardner would have missed it had he not been looking her square in the face. “I’m afraid I can’t say.”

“I assure you Harley doesn’t need protection from me.”

“I guess that’s a matter of opinion,” Mona muttered, before once again assuming her efficient air. She laced her fingers at her waist. “There is an illness in the family. Miss Golden will not be back at work full time for at least another month.”

This had gone on long enough. “I don’t care when she’ll be back to work. Our relationship has nothing to do with business. I want to know where she is now.”

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to tell you.”

“Then I’ll have to find out for myself.” Gardner rounded the corner of the desk.

Mona stepped into his path. “I’m sorry, sir. Her apartment is off-limits.”

“Not to me.”

“The door is locked.”

“Was locked,” Gardner countered, finding his way blocked by an armoire and an angry woman.

Mona’s hackles rose higher. “Mr. Barnes.”

“Miss Tedrick.” Gardner forced a calm he didn’t feel.

“Look, buster,” Mona began, tossing her head. “I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with here but you take another step and it’ll be the last painless one you ever take,” she vowed, shaking a wicked-looking wine-tipped fingernail in his face.

And that’s when he saw the tattoo on her inner wrist. A quarter moon and a tiny star sat on the tongue of a dragon—a dragon whose body disappeared under an elegant ivory sleeve.

“Mona?”

Mona whirled at the sound of Harley’s voice. Gardner grinned triumphantly.

“Did you go by the pharmacy?”

Harley’s voice sounded weak. Gardner panicked. Mona spun around. “Stay right here, bucko.”

“Don’t even think you can stop me, dragon lady.”

He reached the staircase one step behind Mona, only to find Harley slumped in a sitting position halfway between the bottom and the top. Her hair hung lifeless around her sunken cheeks; the circles above her cheekbones shone bluer than her eyes.

He afforded Mona the briefest glance. “This is the illness in the family?”

She had the grace to blush before she nodded.

“You have medicine she needs?”

Mona’s hand fluttered. “It’s on the desk.”

“Get it. Now.” He stomped up the stairs, scooped Harley into his arms, then finished the climb. “Which way to the bedroom?”

When Harley pointed, he headed in that direction, picking up no details of her home, only the impression of light and air. Lowering her to sit on the edge of the rumpled bed, Gardner knelt before her. “You’ve been sick all this time and you haven’t told me?”

Weakly, she grinned and laid her icy palm along his cheek. “Hi, Gardner. I’ve missed you, too.”

“Lord, Harley. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

He brushed back her hair, feeling his heart catch. He couldn’t even find the strength to offer a reassuring smile. “You never bother me.”

“I took your advice. I went to the doctor.” She licked her dry lips and Gardner reached for the water glass on her bedside table. “What I’m feeling will pass in another couple of months.”

“Months?” Oh, God. “What is it?”

“Morning sickness.” She smiled, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I just happen to be one of the ones who suffers all day long.”

“You’re pregnant?” he barely managed to whisper. He was pretty sure his heart had just stopped beating.

“I’m pregnant.”

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see.

He knuckled a thumb in the corner of one eye. “How bad is the morning sickness?”

She showed him. All over his new ostrich-skin boots.

He couldn’t even mind.