Читать книгу The Only Child - Carolyn McSparren - Страница 11

“IT’S BEEN NEARLY eight hours since I left you. I need you to tell me you’ll go with me to Kansas so that I can make reservations.” Logan was breathing hard. He cradled the phone against his shoulder and ran the towel over his sweating face and chest.

“I only said I’d think it over,” Molly said over the line. “I didn’t agree to anything.”

“Look, let me come out to your house right now. We can talk about it all night if that’s what it takes to persuade you.”

“No.” She sat down on her bed. “I’m practically ready for bed.”

“So much the better.” He chuckled.

She tried to chuckle back, but to her ears, it sounded as if she’d just choked on a peach pit.

“All right, how about I take you to breakfast?” he offered. “I’ve already got a call in to my travel agent. It’s not that easy to get to Moundhill by plane. We’ll have to fly into Wichita and rent a car.”

“Logan, talk sense. I have animals to feed, a halfdozen commissions that I’m behind on, Quentin Dillahunt’s evil little head hardening in my refrigerator, and I am terrified of airplanes. Isn’t there somebody else you can take?”

“Nobody else has laid eyes on Dulcy. Sleep on it, please. I’ll see you at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.” He sighed. “Please come with me. In just two days you have become more important to me than you can possibly imagine. I need you. Don’t desert me now.”

Molly sat on her bed and listened to the dial tone. She’d lied to Logan. She wasn’t ready for bed. She still wore her jeans, though her feet were bare. She wandered into the kitchen. Elvis, ever-vigilant for a handout, trotted after her with his tail in the air. She opened the refrigerator, found a diet cola, and on impulse pulled out the meat drawer.

She’d give Logan breakfast here. He probably ate healthy junk, but if she did decide to go with him, she needed to finish the country ham before she left. She checked the freezer. Biscuits. There were always plenty of eggs. One overdose of cholesterol was unlikely to do irreparable harm to their arteries, and country ham beat bran flakes any day of the week.

Not that he needed the extra energy. He’d become a different person since he’d found a direction, a focus, something to do. He’d turned into a cross between a dynamo and one of his blasted bulldozers. At the moment, she felt like a very small sapling standing directly in his path. He was going to mow her down any minute. He was obviously used to calling all the shots and making all the decisions. If this was the way he treated Zoe, no wonder they had problems.

She knew darned well all his sexy innuendos were nothing but cheerful banter, but they really affected her. She shook herself and reached for Elvis. He eluded her and scampered down the hall. “Fickle cat!” she snapped.

She called Sherry and poured out the whole story to her. “And the worst of it is, he refuses even to discuss the possibility with Zoe and Rick that Dulcy is alive,” Molly said. “He treats her like a child.”

“He’s being an overprotective daddy,” Sherry said. “And, he’s never really gotten to know Rick. Do you know a plumber who doesn’t work twelve hours a day, six days a week? And Logan still goes gallivanting off for months at a stretch. Their orbits don’t match.” Sherry paused for a moment before going on, “Neither do their views of the world. I think Zoe may keep her two men apart a bit as well without realizing it. She demands Rick’s complete loyalty. I don’t think she’d be too happy if Rick and Logan suddenly started going fishing together.”

“Maybe they should. Rick is the dearest, sweetest, most sensible man I know.”

Sherry laughed. “He also has a scruffy beard and wears jeans to work. When Logan’s home, he prefers three-piece suits and red power ties. Besides, Rick became the most important person in Zoe’s life just when Logan wanted to become a full-time father to her. Bad timing.”

Molly snorted. “I refuse to get involved in any more dysfunctional families. It’s taken me years to get over my own.” She hesitated. “On the other hand, Logan may act like a field marshal, but he’s so damned sad. I hate to abandon him.”

Sherry laughed. “That’s my Molly—half of you wants to hide in your cave and make dolls, the other half keeps turning into Joan of Arc.”

“And look what happened to her.”

WHILE SHE WANTED for Logan to show up for breakfast, Molly called her daughter. “Anne, I’m going out of town,” Molly said. “I’ll have to renege on Elizabeth’s sleep-over Friday. Can the two of you look after the animals for a few days?”

“Where are you going? Why? How long?” Anne asked. Then she caught her breath. “Mother, are you involved with that gray fox?”

Molly heard the verbal quotation marks around that word involved. “Even if I were, and I’m not, I’m a grown woman. I’m sorry, Anne, I can’t tell you any more. I promise I’ll keep in touch.”

Anne sighed. “Mom, you know we’ll look after the animals. It’s time Elizabeth started getting Maxie ready for the Thanksgiving horse show anyway. I’ll even make Phil take off on Saturday afternoon and come watch her ride.” She hesitated.

Molly, who was used to her daughter’s silences, waited for her to continue.

“It’s just that Phil and I worry about you, Mom. You’re out there all alone. The world’s not safe and neither are the people in it—not even the handsome foxes. I love you too much to want to see you hurt again. Sometimes I worry that you don’t think things out too clearly.”

“Thank you, darling, for your vote of confidence,” Molly said. “But I’m tougher than you think and not nearly so naive. I can look after every part of my self, including my heart. Don’t worry. I’ll keep in touch while I’m gone and tell you everything when I get home. I’ll call Elizabeth this afternoon to apologize for finking out on her sleep-over.” She hesitated, then blurted out, “I love you all. I’m so glad I have you.”

“Mom? Are you all right? You never talk like that.”

“Maybe I should. ‘Bye, darling.”

She hung up to Anne’s drawn-out “Mooooother” on the line.

Next, she called Sherry to report her decision to go with Logan.

“My God, Molly,” Sherry said. “You’re not seriously flying off into the wilds of Kansas with Logan MacMilan.” Sherry’s laughter echoed down the wires. Then her voice turned deadly serious. “Do you truly think you can find that child?”

“We have to try. The difficulty is that we’re a pair of rank amateurs. Frankly, I don’t have the foggiest notion where to start.”

“I wouldn’t either. But I’ll say some prayers for you. Trust you to wind up going searching with an incredibly attractive man. Nothing like that ever happens to me.”

“When has it ever happened to me before? Besides, we’ll probably hate one another cordially by the end of the first day. Logan MacMillan isn’t my type,” Molly lied glibly, wishing it were true.

“Then you are deaf, dumb and blind.”

“What’s more to the point, I am definitely not his type.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

Molly stretched her bare feet in front of her and ran her hand through her hair again. “Okay, you said you’d known Sydney since college. Do I remind you of her?”

Sherry chuckled. “Not in the least. Sydney cared more for externals and appearances than any human being I have ever met. She knew darned well Tiffany was a hellraiser, but all she could see was her future daughter-inlaw’s social standing and a wedding with twelve bridesmaids. Boy, did she get a rude awakening. Besides, Sydney was what the movie magazines used to call ‘divinely thin’“

“That let’s me out. I have good reason to know that men Logan’s age go for women Anne’s age. He’ll probably treat me like a sister, or worse yet, an aunt. Frankly, I’m surprised some rich young widow hasn’t snapped him up before now.”

“Logan keeps them at arm’s length. He is courtly, charming, available for dinner parties when he’s in town, pleasant and detached. I think he doesn’t want to risk losing anyone else of value to him, so he simply refuses to care for anybody again. Of course, that old Byronic ‘secret pain that only you, fair love, can assuage’ is a downright killer with the ladies. I’ve considered seducing him myself.”

“Leo would kill you.”

“Only if he found out. Unfortunately, I haven’t the skill for double-dealing that most women have.”

“Meaning?”

“I’d louse up my stories and get caught…Easier to stay faithful. Of course, you don’t have a heavy husband waiting in the wings with a shotgun. You and he are both unattached. Enjoy.”

“Thanks for the insight, Sherry.”

“One more thing, Molly, don’t forget that Tiffany is a convicted felon who killed two people. She wants that child with her desperately. She’s dangerous.”

Molly hung up the phone thoughtfully. She still had half an hour before she expected Logan. Breakfast was well in hand. She pulled on a windbreaker over her black turtleneck and walked down to the workshop. Elvis padded along behind her.

Once inside, Molly pulled out Quentin’s head and began to add soft bisque to his chin. She worked silently for twenty minutes until she heard the gate alarm. She covered the head, put it back into the refrigerator, closed the shop and walked up the hill to meet Logan.

He was dressed for business. “Good morning,” he said formally.

Every time Molly left him a trifle loosened up, he reappeared as distant and formal as ever. He was like some kind of plastic that had a memory—melt it, bend it, curl it into a ball, it sprang right back to its original rigidity.

“Can you handle cholesterol?” she asked.

He smiled. “Upon occasion.”

“Good, because we’ve got country ham and hot biscuits for breakfast.”

LOGAN DRANK his coffee and watched Molly straighten the kitchen. He’d enjoyed breakfast. Molly had kept up a cheerful line of patter about her small farm and the animals. It all served, as he supposed it was meant to do, to keep his mind off the task at hand.

The food had been good, but eating with Molly gave it an even better flavor. She had served the meal on bright yellow Italian pottery. Watching her as she moved easily among the pots and pans, he thought her the most appealing woman he had ever met.

With a sudden startling jolt of insight, he realized he had an appetite for her, a simple physical hunger. He wanted to nibble her all over, taste her, feel the texture of her skin and curl her crisp hair around his fingers. He jerked himself from his reverie. “What?” he asked.

“I said, have you told Zoe we’re leaving tomorrow?”

“I told her I was leaving. I did not mention you.”

“Logan…”

“I’m not protecting your honor. I’m guarding my privacy. And I’m protecting Zoe against disappointment.”

“I don’t agree, but it’s your decision.”

“You see, Dulcy was much more to Zoe than simply her brother Jeremy’s child. She and Rick can’t seem to conceive—no reason that the doctors can find, but they’ve been trying for years without success. I think Zoe was jealous of the ease with which Tiffany got pregnant.”

“I can understand that. Sherry Carpenter loves me dearly, but she can’t help begrudging me Anne and Elizabeth.”

“It goes even deeper with Zoe. After Dulcy was born, Tiffany decided to go back to school to finish her degree. She didn’t want to be bothered with a baby. She dropped Dulcy off at the shop nearly every morning. Sydney was too ill to look after her, so we set up a kind of nursery in the workroom at the back, and Zoe took over Dulcy. She was everyone’s pet, but she was Zoe’s special love.”

“Then surely she’d be overjoyed to think that Dulcy might be alive.”

He shook his head. “I can’t raise her hopes. We may not find Dulcy. Perhaps she is dead.”

“I’m sorry, Logan, but we can’t put that toothpaste back into that particular tube.”

“I know that,” Logan said. “I’ll pick you up Thursday afternoon about two. We’ll get a rental car in Wichita, spend the night there and drive to Moundhill first thing Friday morning. Doctors often take long weekends. I don’t want to miss seeing the staff at that hospital.” He glanced over at Molly. “I’ve reserved two hotel rooms in Wichita for Thursday night.”

Molly let out her breath. Good. “Can’t we leave here early Friday morning?”

“No air connections. Molly, we haven’t discussed money.”

“Yes, we have. You said you’d pay all the expenses.”

“And I will. But you’ll be missing at least a weekend’s work, possibly more if we have to trace Tiffany beyond Moundhill.”

“I hadn’t planned to be away more than a couple of days. I can catch up when I get home.”

“I shouldn’t need you any longer than that.” Logan knew he was lying. He needed Molly beside him every step of this journey, and that included helping him get reacquainted with his grandchild. But he wasn’t about to tell her that until she was a long way from home. Then he trusted her maternal instincts would take over.

“Zoe still wants your dolls for MacMillan’s.” He smiled. “I agree with her. The store can arrange contracts for your portrait dolls, but that’s not enough to pay you for coming with me. The usual industry-consulting fee is five hundred a day. That’s fifteen hundred dollars if you get home Sunday evening.”

“Wow! I’m in the wrong business!” Molly laughed. “But you and I may be at each other’s throats by dinnertime Friday.”