Husband Wanted (11 page)

Frannie felt her stomach lurch at the thought of her daughter going back home, but she knew that’s the way it had to be. She would simply have to treasure each moment they had together. “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said. “If you’re sure you can spare the time away from work.”

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

“Okay, I’m ready to go,” Mandy said, coming up beside the car on her bicycle. She rode her bicycle in front of the car, and Clay followed slowly and at a safe distance. Once they pulled in and started for the house, Mandy began telling them about the beautiful mare that Dwight Elderberry said she could ride whenever she liked.

“My best friend’s parents have a farm in Maryland,” she said. “I used to go there a lot. Her dad taught me to ride. I haven’t been back in almost a year.”

“Why not?” Frannie asked.

The girl hesitated. “Just because.”

It wasn’t much of an answer, but Frannie did not push because she didn’t want Mandy to think she was prying.

“I have a surprise for you,” Clay said to Mandy. “It just so happens we have horses here.”

She looked surprised. “I didn’t know.”

“There’s a stable out back. You can’t see it from the house because of the trees. I’ll take you riding after breakfast if you like.”

Mandy nodded excitedly. “That’d be super.” She looked at Frannie. “Do you ride?”

Frannie shook her head. “I never leaned.”

“I plan to teach her,” Clay told Mandy.

Walter was halfway through his breakfast when they joined him at the dining table. Mandy told him about meeting cute Dwight Elderberry and Clay’s plans to take her riding. Walter turned to Frannie.

“Are you going with them?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know the first thing about horses. Actually, I’m a little bit afraid of them.”

“That’s because you haven’t been around them,” Clay said. “When you feel ready, I’ll teach you, not only how to ride, but how to handle a horse. It’s easier than you think.”

“I’m not sure when we’ll have time,” she said, trying to give him a subtle reminder that Mandy would be leaving the following day.

He smiled. “We’ll make time,” he said.

The stable smelled of fresh hay and manure. Clay chatted briefly with the elf-sized man, Hank, who they employed to take care of the horses. He chuckled when Mandy enthusiastically greeted a spotted mare named Bitty. “I think she likes you,” Clay said as the girl rubbed the horse’s nose. “She’s very gentle. I can have Hank saddle her if you like.”

“That would be awesome,” Mandy said.

“Would you saddle my horse as well?” Clay asked the man.

“Certainly, Mr. Coleman.”

“In the meantime, come with me and I’ll show you my dad’s pride and joy,” Clay told her, leading her to the end of the stable. A gray Arabian stuck his head through the opening and snorted loudly.

“Wow! He’s beautiful,” Mandy said. She slowly raised a hand to rub his forehead.

Clay nodded in agreement, taking pride in the animal as well. His head was small with protruding eyes and wide nostrils, markedly different from the American breeds they owned. “This is Nadja,” he said. “My father bought him last year, thinking he might raise them. That’s why he added more stalls. He was looking to find a good mare for breeding purposes. This is as far as he got.”

“What happened? Did he change his mind?”

Clay shrugged as though he didn’t have a clue, but he suspected it was because he’d thrown out the person who’d instigated the whole thing, his so-called stepmother. He wondered if there would ever come a time when he could think of her without resenting her. Frannie had been right. His anger and resentment were hurting him more than anyone else. It had even led him to suspect Frannie of trying to snare his father.

“I’d love to work with him,” Mandy said. “My friend’s father taught me all about horses. He said I have a way with them.”

“Maybe you can,” he said. “You’re welcome to visit anytime.” Clay wanted to kick himself the minute he said it. This was all an act put on for Mandy’s benefit. Come Monday afternoon, when she was on a plane headed back to Washington, the whole charade would fold up and be no more.

“That’s going to be rather difficult, isn’t it?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Dwight Elderberry and I didn’t just talk about horses.”

Clay met her gaze, wondered what she meant. Her expression gave nothing away. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. “Oh yeah? So what else did you talk about?”

“He told me the truth about you and Frannie. That you aren’t really married, and she doesn’t live here. She lives in town and works in a diner.”

Clay didn’t know what to say at first. Finally, he decided all he could do was try to explain. “I’m sorry, Mandy. We didn’t do it to hurt you. Frannie feared you would be ashamed of her if you saw where she really lived. That you might not want to visit her again.”

The girl seemed to ponder it. “Actually, I feel better knowing she’s not rich.” When Clay looked confused, she went on. “I was told from the beginning that my birth mother loved me very much, but that she was forced to give me up because she was poor, and had a sick mother to care for.”

“That’s, in fact, the way it was.”

Finally, she looked at him. “So how do you think I felt when she wrote telling me how she was happily married and living in this fine house with servants? I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe somebody had lied to me, that my mother was really a wealthy socialite who didn’t want to be bothered with some brat. After seeing this place—” She shrugged. “It sort of confirmed what I thought.”

Clay shook his head emphatically. “Frannie has had a hard life. Harder than anyone I know. But she’s too proud to admit it, even to those closest to her. Not only that, I think she panicked when you told her your father was a big shot with the State Department. She figured you were used to better than what she could offer.”

Mandy’s eyes clouded for a moment. “Would you tell me the truth about her?”

He sat on a bale of hay and motioned for her to join him. “Frannie is a very special person,” he said once the girl had taken a seat beside him. He told her about her father abandoning the family, and how Frannie had to quit school, work full-time, and care for her mother as best she could. “Once her mother passed, about five years ago, Frannie got her GED and then started taking college courses. Despite working full-time, she takes as many classes as she can.”

“She thought I would be ashamed of her for
that
?” Mandy asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

“That’s exactly what she thought.”

“What about my biological father?” she asked. “My Aunt Rhea told me he didn’t want me either, that he skipped town the minute Frannie told him she was pregnant.”

Clay frowned at the thought of someone,
especially
a family member saying something so hurtful to the girl. He tried to think of a response that would not cause her more pain. “I’ve never met your Aunt Rhea, but she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Your father and Frannie were very much in love, Mandy. But they were so young. Only seventeen-years-old. Far too young to raise a child,” he added.

Mandy nodded as though it made complete sense. “Then my Aunt Rhea was just being mean. Why am I not surprised?”

Clay smiled and tweaked her nose. “I think it’s time you and Frannie sat down and had a good talk.”

“I don’t want you to tell her I know,” Mandy said. “I want her to tell me herself. When she’s ready,” the girl added. “Please don’t say anything.”

“Don’t say anything about what?” a feminine voice said, causing them both to jump.

They jerked their gazes toward the stable door. “Oh, hi,” Mandy said.

Frannie reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “What don’t you want Clay to tell me?”

“Huh?” Mandy glanced at Clay, her eyes pleading. “I’m, um—” She paused as if trying to think of what to say. “I was just telling him about my Aunt Rhea. What a grump she is.”

“Oh?” Frannie said, “Why is she so grumpy?”

“She says it’s because she is in pain all the time. She has been to a lot of doctors, but they can’t find anything wrong with her. If you want my opinion, I think it’s all in her head. I think she is a hypochondriac.”

“That’s sad,” Frannie said.

Hank led two horses toward them. Mandy came to her feet. “Is that your horse?” she asked, nodding toward a liver-spotted stallion.

“Yep, meet Big Joe.”

“He’s huge!”

Frannie smiled as Mandy carried on over the horses. “I know you’re eager to go riding,” she said, “but I wanted to let you know I’m planning a picnic on the patio later. My famous fried chicken and all the fixings. That is, if Jean-Paul will allow me in the kitchen.”

“Do you want me to beat him up for you?” an amused Clay asked. “Just say the word.”

“I love it when you play the part of my knight in shining armor, but I’ll just use my feminine wiles to win him over.”

“Poor guy,” Clay said. “He doesn’t stand a chance. And I speak from experience.”

“How do you think it went today?” Frannie asked Clay once he’d climbed into bed beside her, obviously trying to maintain a respectful distance so she wouldn’t feel compelled to throw herself over the edge, the way she had the night before.

“She had a lot of fun,” he said, “and the picnic was a nice touch.” Still, he wished the girl would come clean with Frannie, as to what she had learned from that Dwight fellow, instead of hanging on to her secret.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sure she will treasure the memory.”

“I have a question,” Clay said, drawing her back to the present. “What would you do if you’d promised someone not to tell something, but you think it’s in their best interest to go ahead and get things out in the open? Clear the air, so to speak.”

Frannie bolted upright from the bed, certain he was about to blow her cover. “You shouldn’t tell, Clay, no matter what. You may not always understand why people do the things they do, but if someone has trusted you enough to ask you to keep something secret—” She paused. “It’s not your place to tell,” she added.

He pondered her words as he gazed at her, hair falling down her shoulders in a mass of waves. He wondered if a woman had ever looked more desirable in a man’s pajama shirt, which she had chosen to wear instead of the negligee and robe. He wondered if she had any inkling of how much he wanted to kiss her. “Don’t go getting all fired up,” he said, then sighed at his choice of words. She was definitely having an influence on him. “I was just curious.”

“So you won’t say anything?”

“No, but I don’t like keeping secrets.” He almost winced, recalling that he had his own secret. He wondered if Frannie would be hurt if she knew why he had agreed to go along with their little charade.

As he gazed at her, he found himself mesmerized by her lips and the little indentation at the top that formed their bow shape. Her nose was perfect, slightly tilted at the end with a smattering of youthful freckles. And her eyes were so green. They sparkled like something in a jewelry store display case. He sighed and wondered how they could have lived in the same town without getting to know each other. Now that he
did
know her, he wondered how he would ever let her go once they put Mandy on the plane.

Frannie felt self-conscious under his gaze and wished she knew what he was thinking. The bed covers were pulled to his waist, exposing his powerful chest and the dark curls. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. It was all she could do to keep from raking her fingers through those curls.

“Why don’t you?” he said, as though reading her mind. “It won’t kill you to touch me.”

Frannie snapped her head up, and their gazes collided. “What—?”

He chuckled, reached forward, and grasped her under the arms, pulling her flat against him. She gave a small yelp of surprise, and then squelched it, realizing there were other people in the house. “Stop fighting me,” he said, noting the anxious look in her eyes. “It’s time we both stopped acting like idiots . . . time we gave in to this crazy thing between us.”

She resisted, but only halfheartedly. She wished he hadn’t taken a shower before bed; he smelled so good, so fresh and clean and male. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You want me to kiss you as badly as I want to. And you know what? I’m going to do just that.” He’d no sooner gotten the words out than he cupped a palm at the back of her head and pulled her close then captured her lips with his. She tried to pull free, and then wondered why. Why was she trying to escape the delicious taste of his mouth? He slipped his tongue past her lips, and all coherent thought ceased. She found herself kissing him back, slipping her arms around his neck and giving in to the sheer pleasure of his embrace.

As the kiss deepened something stirred low in her belly, pleasant and warm but making her anxious all at once. She pressed one hand flat against his chest and delighted in the springy texture of his hair. As she slid her fingers through, the curls coiled around them. She could feel him becoming aroused.

Her first thought was to retreat, but she could no more pull away from him than she could will her heart to stop beating. She had spent too many years wondering what it would be like in his arms. Ever since biology class she had wondered, every time she had passed him in the hall, or spied him on the street with his friends. Years later, when she’d driven by a building site and happened to see him standing among the clutter, she’d wondered again.

Clay broke the kiss, and they both sucked in air. “I’ve never wanted a woman so badly in my life,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

She felt the same way about him, despite her reservations, despite the chance she would be taking by caring for him. But didn’t she
already
care for him?

“Clay—” Her mouth was as dry as a desert wind. She swallowed and tried again. “I don’t know if this is wise.”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Frannie. The way I feel about you,” he added. “I wasn’t expecting it, and I don’t want it to end when Mandy leaves.”