Читать книгу Hometown Wedding - Elizabeth Lane - Страница 9

“You’ve, uh, gotten taller.” Still dazed, Travis braced his daughter at arm’s length. His gaze took in the outsize sunglasses, the boyishly cropped hair, the white knit top that ended at mid-rib cage and was snug enough to show off her—

But never mind. There was no place below Nicole’s tanned shoulders where Travis could comfortably rest his eyes.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” Her tentative smile was as flawless as a string of pearls. She’d gotten her braces off, he realized. And no one had even told him about it.

“‘Glad’ isn’t the word for it, sweetheart. I’m just, uh, a little startled, that’s all. You’re not my little girl anymore. You’re growing up. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“All little girls grow up.” She shifted her tote bag and linked an arm through his. “You wouldn’t want me to be a kid forever, would you?”

“I don’t know. It was pretty nice while it lasted.” Travis adjusted his long strides to her smaller ones, wishing he had a blanket to fling around her nubile, exposed body. Very soon he would have to take her to task about that outfit—or lack of outfit. But not just yet. Not in their first precious minutes together.

“Hungry?” he asked her. “We could stop for burgers on our way out of town.”

She shook her head like a saucy little bird. “I macked a sandwich on the plane. But I’ve got to run to the john.” She handed him the claim check she’d fished out of her tote bag. “You go ahead and grab my stuff off the carousel. I’ll catch up in a sec.”

Brushing a kiss on his cheek, she released his arm and scampered into the crowd. A balding bearded male in a Budweiser T-shirt moved aside to let her pass. His eyes flicked over her body with an expression so lustful that it was all Travis could do to keep from hurling himself at the man and inflicting major damage. No, the issue of Nicole’s costume could not wait a minute longer.

“Nicole!”

She glanced demurely back over her shoulder.

“Don’t you have a sweatshirt or something in that bag? You need to put some clothes on.”

She stared at him as if he’d just time-warped from the 1800s. “Oh, Daddy, don’t be a nerd! It’s the middle of June! It’s summer, and these are my clothes!”

“Now, look, young lady…” Travis’s words evaporated like spit on a hot sidewalk as Nicole flashed into the King’s-X zone of the women’s rest room. He stood there fuming as he struggled to come to terms with the past two minutes of his life.

In college he had sat through classes in adolescent psychology and read more books on the subject than he cared to remember. In the early years, when he’d taught high-school math to support the ranch, he’d seen scores of young girls pass into womanhood. He certainly understood that females in their teens could be difficult.

But nothing had prepared him for the emotional bronco ride of dealing with his own daughter.

Jamming his Stetson onto his head, he turned and strode up the concourse, headed for the escalator and the baggage-claim area. One thing was certain. Miss Nicole Conroy was overdue for an attitude adjustment. Once they got safely home, setting her straight would be the first priority on his list.

The ride south, which he’d been looking forward to all day, suddenly loomed as a three-hour battle with a headstrong teenager. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea, after all, to shanghai Eden Harper for the duration. At least, with Eden along, there’d be someone to serve as a buffer between—

Eden.

Travis swore under his breath as he realized the woman was nowhere in sight.

Halting in midstride, he turned around and scanned the length of the concourse. No Eden.

Maybe she’d already carried out her plan to take a cab to the bus station. Fine and dandy, Travis groused, growing more irritated by the minute. What had he expected? That she’d be waiting for him to grab her by the hair and drag her to the truck?

Loping back to the escalator, he caught a step for the downward ride. Below him, the baggage-claim enclosure bustled with activity as suitcases, duffels and boxes spun off the conveyors. Travis fumbled for Nicole’s claim check. Glancing out over the carousels, he suddenly caught sight of Eden’s sugar-blond head. She was at the far end of the floor, fidgeting impatiently with her briefcase as she waited for her bags. Probably anxious to make her getaway. Well, fine. He certainly had no right to stop her.

As the escalator glided downward, he conjured up an image of Eden waiting in the dingy bus station, then sitting up in a cramped seat next to some snoring matriarch while the bus made stops at Ephriam, at Manti, at Axtell, at Gunnison, at Centerfield…What the hell, it was her choice. Let her go.

As he stepped off the escalator, a glance in Eden’s direction told him she had spotted her luggage. She was moving toward the carousel, shifting her briefcase to her shoulder to free her hands. Don’t borrow more trouble, Travis’s brain cautioned. But his legs weren’t listening. Unbidden, they were moving fast, covering the floor in long loping strides that carried him to her side.

“Here!” he exclaimed, reaching in front of her for one of the matching charcoal gray suitcases. “At least let me haul these to the curb for you.”

Dismay flickered in Eden’s eyes, and Travis instantly wished he’d kept his distance. “Look,” he said, “I’m not planning to talk you out of taking the bus. In fact, it’s probably just as well that you don’t ride home with me.”

“I just don’t want to cause any more trouble—for either of us.” Her voice was frayed, like tightly strained silk. Its raw sexiness was a burr that irritated Travis to the snapping point.

“Fine, then. At least we understand—”

The words ended in a croak as he glanced up and saw Nicole coming down the escalator. She had taken off her sunglasses, and as she glided downward, her dark eyes twinkled impishly up at a blond, husky young man in a Utah State University T-shirt who shared the same step.

Travis battled the urge to grind his teeth. Nicole was saying something now, and the young hulk was grinning down at her—no, drooling was more like it. And he was no puppy, either. He looked to be at least nineteen, too damned old to be flirting with a fourteen-year-old child.

“Travis, are you all right?” Eden’s voice pricked the edge of his awareness. He turned on her in sudden desperation.

“Ride with us,” he rasped. “I’m not inviting you, Eden, I’m begging you. Otherwise, before we get home, I’m liable to strangle the little twit.”

“Daddy!” Nicole had spun off the bottom of the escalator, and, with a breezy wave to the hulk, came bouncing toward them with the verve of a half-grown shelty. Watching her, Travis groaned inwardly. How could a father broach the subject of wearing a decent bra to his daughter?

“Hey, you’re waiting in the wrong place,” she said. “My bags’ll be coming off on number three…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze flickered to Eden’s sleek gray Pullman dangling from Travis’s hand, and then to Eden herself, who was scrambling to retrieve the matching garment bag.

“Uh…hi.” Nicole’s voice quavered uncertainly.

Sensing her mistaken impression, Travis stepped in quickly. “Nicole, this is Miss Eden Harper, one of my former schoolmates. She just flew in from New York and we, uh, sort of bumped into each other on the concourse.”

“Oh.” Nicole’s sharp brown eyes inspected Eden up and down before her face relaxed into a flippant grin. “New York, huh? That’s cool.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Nicole.” Eden extended a slightly nervous hand, which Nicole accepted with the jerky politeness of a marionette.

“Eden’s on her way to Monroe. I’ve offered her a ride, and I do believe she’s accepted.” Travis avoided Eden’s eyes. So what if he was railroading her? He was a desperate man.

“Cool.” Nicole was still sizing up Eden, weighing the possibilities. “Hey, that jacket kicks!” she said. “Did you buy it in New York?”

“Uh-huh. At Bloomingdale’s. On clearance, I’m afraid, but definitely Bloomingdale’s.” An intriguing spark danced in Eden’s light green eyes. “You know, with your coloring, I’ll bet this jacket would look great on you. Why don’t we find out?”

Nicole might have protested, but Eden was already shrugging out of the beige linen suit jacket. Travis blinked as Nicole dropped her tote bag and turned a submissive back, arms sliding into the proffered sleeves. Within seconds, she was modestly covered.

“What do you think?” She struck a model’s pose for Eden’s approval.

“Sensational!” Eden grinned. “Want to wear it home?”

“Hey, could I really?” Nicole angled her body this way and that, inspecting the lapels and pockets. “Bloomingdale’s, huh? Cool.”

“Come on, let’s cut the fashion show and round up the baggage,” Travis growled, shooting Eden a glance of unabashed gratitude. He’d half expected the woman to bolt or protest on the spot. Instead, she had smoothed things over with a deftness that left him stunned.

Avoiding his gaze, Eden turned swiftly away—but not before he’d caught a jarring glimpse of what the jacket had concealed. Eden’s sleeveless peach silk blouse skimmed a curvaceous chest that he’d certainly never noticed on Edna Rae Harper. Maybe it was those baggy sweaters she’d always worn to school. Travis cursed silently as he tore his eyes away from the shadowed outline of lace beneath the gossamer-thin fabric. It was a good thing Nicole would be along to sit between them in the pickup. Otherwise, he could be in serious trouble.

Nicole’s twin duffels were leaden. Travis slung one from each shoulder and, with Nicole and Eden managing the rest of the luggage, they trudged out of the elevator onto the third level of the parking terrace.

“There’s the truck!” Nicole bounded ahead, dragging Eden’s wheeled Pullman case behind her. Travis deliberately slowed his steps, hoping Eden would stay back with him.

“I wanted to thank you while I have the chance,” he muttered, leaning close to her ear. “I was geared up for a battle royal over that outfit of hers.”

The subtle aura of Eden’s perfume tickled his senses as she walked deliberately ahead without glancing up at him. “Stay geared,” she hissed. “This is only the first skirmish. And the rest of the war is your problem, not mine.”

“You’re annoyed, aren’t you?”

She shot him an exasperated glance. “I just don’t want any gossip when we get home. And neither do you. People in small towns have long memories.”

“Well, I could always dump you in Richfield and let you hitch the last ten miles.”

Eden muttered something under her breath before releasing an explosive sigh. “All right. Truce. But after this, you’re on your own. I’ve spent sixteen years putting that awful day behind me, and nothing’s going to bring it back!”

She lengthened her step, heels clicking on the concrete as her long legs carried her away from him toward the pickup where Nicole waited.

Travis hung back, his emotions churning even as his gaze followed her sensual lioness walk.

What the hell, maybe she was right. Stirring up that ridiculous old scandal would do nothing for his image in the town, especially when word got out that he and Eden had been seen together. Leave the lady alone—that would be the smart thing to do.

Smart, yes.

But as Travis inhaled, the lingering scent of her perfume aroused a warm tingle that had nothing to do with wisdom.

Eden had reached the truck. She stood waiting for him to bring the key, gazing out over the rows of parked vehicles.

Travis pulled himself together with a mental slap. What was she being so uppity about, anyway? He had been the innocent party. And he would be the one to take the heat if things got stirred up again. Weeks from now, Miss Eden Harper would return to her New York world—a world so remote it might as well be on the moon. But he was the one who lived in Monroe. If anything happened between them, he was the one who’d be mopping up the mess.

Play it safe, Travis cautioned himself. Leave the lady on her doorstep and forget her.

But even as he strode toward the truck, he knew his willpower was going to have an uphill battle.

“I want to sit by the window!” Nicole hung on to the open door of the weather-beaten Ford pickup, swinging back and forth until the hinges squawked.

“Just climb in, young lady!” Travis’s shoulders rippled as he hefted the baggage, including Eden’s precious briefcase, into the truck’s open back. The truck bed had been swept, but green hay dust clung deep in the metal grooves, rich with the smell of home.

Eden’s memory stirred, recalling the small ranch Travis’s family had owned west of town on Poverty Flat. She remembered warm summer evenings, riding her bike along the back roads, filling her senses with the aroma of fresh-cut hay as she pedaled slowly past his gate. She remembered the wind in her hair, the mosquito bites on her legs, the exquisite surges of longing as she gazed toward his house….

“Please, Eden!” Nicole wheedled. “I want to see out! I get claustrophobia when I sit in the middle!”

“Now, listen…” Travis turned sharply, his voice harsh with annoyance. Sensing a confrontation, Eden impulsively stepped between them.

“It’s all right,” she said swiftly. “I really don’t mind sitting in the middle of the seat. Let Nicole have the window, if that’s what she wants.”

The thunderous scowl Travis flashed her made Eden realize she had overstepped her bounds, but he said nothing to confirm it. With a curt “Suit yourself,” he swung away, leaving her to scramble gracelessly into the high cab on her own while he secured the tailgate. She slid across the blanket-upholstered seat and straddled the gearbox with her legs, bracing for a very long three-hour ride.

Nicole plopped in beside her, grinning as she slammed the door of the truck and began rolling down the window. “Thanks. You’re cool, Eden. And I can already tell my daddy’s got the hots for you.”

“Nicole!” Eden’s heart sank as she felt the detested blush flame her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re—”

“Psych!”

Nicole giggled, then, seeing Eden’s puzzled expression, she explained, “That means I was just kidding—wanted to see what you’d do. Boy, I’m sure glad I don’t blush like that! Hey, look at that buff guy…” She swiveled toward the open window, craning her neck to see past the side mirror.

Eden shrank into the upholstery, willing herself to vanish as Travis swung in beside her and buckled himself into the driver’s seat. Too late, she realized what close quarters the inside of a pickup truck could be. Barring visible contortions, there was no way she could sit comfortably without pressing against him from shoulder to knee.

A flutter of panic teased Eden’s diaphragm, climaxing in a nervous hiccup. Travis’s eyes stared straight ahead beneath the brim of his Stetson, as if she did not exist. His jaw tightened as he jammed the key into the ignition, then, as the engine roared to life, thrust his hand between her knees to grab the gearshift knob. Eden pressed her lips together as the oddly intimate contact touched off a little scherzo of hiccups.

Edna Rae had returned in all her glory.

Travis shot her a sidelong glance as he backed out of the parking space. “Put your seat belts on, ladies,” was all he said.

“Oh, you’re such an old fussbudget!” Nicole fumed. But she did snap her shoulder harness, then reach around to help drag the ends of Eden’s lap belt from under the back of the seat.

“Daddy, we need to stop and get sodas,” she piped up.

Travis ignored her. His elbow grazed Eden’s breast as he negotiated the corkscrew exit of the airport parking garage, igniting a tingle of awareness that caused them both to jerk apart.

“We need sodas,” Nicole persisted. “Eden’s got the hiccups. Listen.”

“I’m fine—really.” Eden punctuated her protest with an ill-timed hic as Travis pulled through the parking tollgate.

“Well, the sodas are going to have to wait till we get a few miles down the freeway,” he said. “There’s no place to stop out here.”

“Please don’t bother on my account,” Eden said, feeling woefully out of place. She did not belong in this role, playing buffer between a father and his willful young daughter. She especially did not belong in this truck, scrunched tight against the man who had made her pulse skitter since she was as young as Nicole. She was sick and tired of attractive males. Most of them, she’d sadly learned, were bullying, self-centered manipulators, and Travis Conroy was clearly no exception.

So why, then, was she reacting to him like a teenager in hormone overdrive?

Eden sat rigid as glass, excruciatingly aware of the heat that simmered along the line where her thigh lay against his. He smelled of the outdoors, of grass and sun and the kind of good, plain supermarket soap her mother always bought on sale. His flesh was warm and hard through the worn fabric of his jeans.

She took a deep breath, struggling to ignore the forbidden flutters his touch aroused in her body. A downward glance confirmed that her nipples had shrunk to tight little raspberries. They stood out through the wispy silk of a blouse she would never have chosen to wear without the concealing jacket. Too late, she missed the briefcase she’d allowed Travis to stow in the back. At least, she could have clutched it to her chest and hidden herself behind it.

Eden hiccuped wretchedly as the dry summer wind blasted her face through Nicole’s open window. The bus would have had air-conditioning, but she had no right to complain. She’d gotten herself into this mess. If she was miserable, it was no more than she deserved.

Lending Nicole her jacket had been an act of pure impulse, well motivated perhaps, but not well thought out. She had wanted to be friendly to the girl and to ease Travis’s obvious discomfort with her appearance. It had not occurred to her that she was walking into her own trap until it was too late to back out.

But why had she really done it? Eden scrunched, into the Navajo-blanket upholstery, lost in speculation. Did she feel some need to repay Travis Conroy for the embarrassment she’d caused? Or had she just wanted to show him that she was a big girl now, and savvy enough to handle a willful fourteen-year-old?

Oh, what was she doing here? If she had any sense, she would leap out of the truck, flag down a taxi and head straight for the bus depot!

The worst part was the way Travis had lapped it all up. He probably thought she was great with teenage girls. Well, she wasn’t. Apart from the memories of her own painful adolescence, she understood nothing about them, especially pretty, self-assured creatures like Nicole. To her, they were like bubbly little space aliens, beings from a world she had always envied but never inhabited.

Travis’s knuckles bumped her knees as the truck growled into second gear. Eden tensed, fearful of what the contact might arouse in her.

She could hold her own in the workplace, where she knew exactly what was expected. But when it came to relationships, especially with men, Edna Rae was alive and well. A few months ago she had almost believed she could change-but no, she could not afford to think about her broken engagement now. She would only get maudlin, and that wouldn’t do. Especially not in front of Travis Conroy.

She would make the best of the next three hours, Eden resolved with a hiccuping sigh. She would be civil to Travis and patient with the high-spirited Nicole. And when the ride was over, she would thank them kindly and run for her life—or at least for her sanity.

She would have to.

Any way you looked at him, Travis Conroy was trouble, more trouble than she ever wanted to deal with again.

Travis shifted into third, his wrist skimming Eden’s thigh as the truck ground up the on-ramp and nosed onto the interstate. He was making every effort to appear cool, but the veneer was already wearing thin. The changes in Nicole had thrown him off balance, and now, with no time to recover, he found himself plastered side by side against one of the most disturbingly attractive females he had ever encountered.

And the hell of it was, she was Edna Rae Harper.

This was crazy, Travis lashed himself as he gunned the engine and roared into the center lane. This lady was the original ugly duckling. Worse, her misguided fantasies had triggered one of the most embarrassing episodes of his life.

All he had ever wanted to do with Edna Rae Harper was forget her.

He stared fixedly at the black butt of the Pontiac LeMans in front of him, doing his damnedest to keep his eyes off Eden’s peach silk blouse. The way the fabric clung—No, he vowed, not one glance. But even the best intent could not stop his imagination from working. Her fragrant warmth invaded his senses, stirring a vision of ripe peaches in the summer sun, round, lush, silky to the touch of his fingertips…

It was enough to make a man sweat.

“So, uh, how long do you plan to be in Monroe?” he asked, making a lame stab at conversation.

Eden’s bare arm grazed his shoulder as she shifted in her seat. “Let’s see…I’ll be running my mother back to Provo tomorrow, and they’ll be doing her hysterectomy the next morning at Utah Valley Regional. After that, maybe four or five weeks, depending on how fast she recovers.”

“At least you’ll have a vacation from your job.”

“Not really. That heavy briefcase you put in the back is full of manuscripts to read and edit.”

“Hey, you’re an editor?” Nicole, who’d been hanging out the window like a happy Labrador retriever, popped her head back into the cab. “That’s cool. Do you work with any kickin’ writers, like Stephen King?”

“I’m afraid not. Parnell is an educational textbook company. Compared to Stephen King, most of the stuff I work on is pretty dry.”

“Textbooks! Yuck!” Nicole twisted back toward the open window to wave at the blond male driver of a red Corvette. Travis ground his teeth, biting back the temptation to lecture her. Nicole was just keyed up from the trip, that was all. She would settle down fine after a day or two on the ranch. Then everything would be just like old times.

Eden was gazing past him now, toward the rugged Wasatch Mountains that jutted between the city and the eastern sky. “I noticed traces of hay in the back of the truck,” she ventured. “Does that mean you’re working the old family ranch?”

Travis forced a sidelong grin. “You have been away a long time,” he said. “I moved back to the ranch when I finished college. Been there ever since.”

“Ranching.” Eden fidgeted with her nails. “Somehow I always imagined you in a more glamorous role, like a sportscaster, or an FBI agent, or a male super model.”

“Oh, nothing of the sort. Running that ranch is all I ever wanted to do.” Travis edged the truck around the small Pontiac, striving to ignore the womanly warmth of Eden’s leg and the sensually whispered message of her perfume. Edna Rae Harper. He rolled the name in his mind as he took a deep breath and continued speaking.

“My dad barely made enough on the place to keep the family fed. The land’s too dry and rocky for most crops. Even the few cows he kept were poor milkers. But ten years ago, I started raising quarter horses. The horses do fine with extra hay and oats, and since I mortgaged the place to pick up a champion stud, the colts have been bringing decent money in Vegas and L.A.”

“You sound like a satisfied man.” She settled back into the seat beside him, the hot wind bannering her spun-honey hair.

“Satisfied?” Travis let the question hang on the air. If “satisfied” meant coming home to an empty house and eating supper alone, then drifting into solitary slumber in the big brass bed where his parents had conceived five children…

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, feigning smugness, “you might say I’ve done all right by the old place.”

“It sounds as if you have no plans to leave.” Eden stirred, her breast brushing his sleeve with the impact of a rocket burst.

“Leave?” Travis’s attempted chuckle came out sounding hollow. “My grandpa bought that land west of town when he came home from the First World War. My dad spent his whole life there, battling rocks and tumbleweeds to grub out a livelihood. He and Mom raised five kids before they passed on. I was the baby of the family—but then, I guess you know all that.

“Over the years, as I watched my brothers and sisters spread their wings, I promised myself that after I got my education, I’d come back and take care of the ranch, maybe even make something fine of it one day.”

He paused for breath. He’d been talking too much, he realized. Probably making a bore of himself. What was wrong with him today, anyway? With the women he occasionally dated, he was never at a loss for clever flattering things to say. But in the thirty-odd minutes he’d spent with Eden Harper, he’d done little more than talk about himself. He’d already unloaded a good chunk of his life in her lap. If he didn’t stop soon—

“Hey!” he announced, seizing the moment. “I see a Circle K sign just past that off-ramp. Anybody for sodas?”

“Me!” Nicole jerked her head back inside the cab. “I’ll have an extra-large Diet Coke. And can I have some Cheetos, too? And a Milky Way?”

“Sure.” Travis pulled into the exit lane, grateful that at least one thing about Nicole—her appetite—hadn’t changed. “What’s your pleasure, Eden?”

“Uh…iced tea. Plain. And thank you.”

“You won’t get much nourishment out of that. Sure I can’t get you a hot dog or something?”

“I had lunch on the plane. Tea will be fine.”

“Hey, Eden!” Nicole grinned. “I think your hiccups are gone!”

“Oh…” Eden blinked, then, as if on cue, emitted a lusty hic. Her cheeks flushed appealingly as she shrugged, then laughed, shaking her wind-tangled hair. She looked damned sexy, Travis observed. And he knew some very interesting cures for the hiccups. The thought flashed through his mind that, under different circumstances, he wouldn’t mind trying some of them on her.

But this was crazy, he reminded himself with a sharp mental slap. People in small towns had memories like elephants. Take up with Edna Rae Harper, and the whole idiotic scandal would come crashing down on their heads again.

Forcing his mind back to the present, he swung the truck into the parking lot. “Hold down the fort, ladies. I’ll be right back,” he said, swinging out of the cab. “Let’s see-extra-large Diet Coke, Chee-tos, a Milky Way and one plain iced tea. Right?”

“Right,” said Nicole. “And a pack of Big Red.”

“Got it.” Travis clicked shut the door of the truck and strode into the convenience store. He hadn’t decided what to get for himself, except that it would need to be large, wet and cold.

Damned cold.

“Did you really go to school with my dad? Wow, it must have been a long time ago!”

Thanks a lot, kid! Eden squirmed under Nicole’s open scrutiny, feeling like a frog on a dissecting table. Travis had been gone about twenty seconds, and she was already getting the third degree.

“Longer than your whole lifetime,” she answered pleasantly. “Your father graduated two years before I did.”

“And did you think my dad was hot?”

“Nicole…” Eden’s cheeks blazed like neon.

“A lot of girls do, you know. Even now that he’s so old. And the women in town—God, you should see them!”

“Don’t swear, Nicole. Your father wouldn’t like it.”

“But you wouldn’t believe them! Calling him on the phone! Bringing him pies and brownies and chicken casseroles! Inviting him over for supper, and who knows what else! He could marry any one of them in a minute. But he won’t. Want to know why?”

“That really isn’t any of my business,” Eden forced herself to say.

Nicole ran a hand through her gamine thatch of dark brown curls. “Want to know?”

“Nicole—” Eden’s protest ended in another hiccup. “All right. Why?”

“Because he’s still in love with my mom, that’s why. After all these years, he’s never gotten over her. That’s why he hasn’t found anybody else.” Nicole studied her pert reflection in the side mirror. “So, you didn’t answer my question. When you were in high school, did you think my dad was hot?”

Eden exhaled in defeat. “All the girls thought so. I guess I did, too.”

Nicole leaned closer to the mirror, squinting at an imaginary blemish. “Know what a girl in his high school did? She wrote this mash letter to my dad in her notebook. Real X-rated stuff, from what I heard. Some boy found the letter and passed out copies with the school paper. Poor Daddy was embarrassed to death, and I guess it just about ruined his reputation for good.”

Eden had gone cold in the stifling heat of the cab. “Where,” she managed to ask, “did you ever hear such a story?”

“From Kim Driscoll. Last summer. Kim said the girl’s name was Agnes or something, and that she was a real nerd. She left town after graduation and never came back. Did you know her, Eden?”

Eden shook her head in feeble denial, casting urgent glances past the gas pumps to the entrance of the Circle K, where Travis had just stepped outside.

“Run and help your father, Nicole,” she said. “He looks as if he might be about to drop those big drinks.”

“Right!” Travis’s daughter flashed out of the truck to bound across the asphalt in the swimming heat. Eden sagged limply against the upholstery, her silk blouse clinging to her skin. Her stomach clenched as she faced the reality of going home to the place where people still talked about Edna Rae Harper.

How could she do it? After what her ridiculous teenage fantasizing had done to Travis, how could she show her face in town again?

Worse, how could she avoid it?

On her other rare visits to Monroe, she had simply stayed out of sight. This time, Eden realized, hiding would not be an option. There would be shopping to do, errands to run, callers to greet. For the period of her mother’s recovery, she would have no choice except to deal with people who hadn’t seen her in years, but who still remembered the scandal and, evidently, still talked about it.

She would rise to the challenge, Eden resolved grimly. She would smile and hold her head high, as if the disgrace had never happened. Her conduct would be above reproach; and that would include keeping a wide country mile between herself and Travis Conroy.

That part, Eden assured herself, would be easy. After this miserable trip, Travis would never want to see her again, and the sentiment was mutual. The cookie-and-casserole crowd could have him—that is, if any of them could lure him away from the memory of his ex-wife.

“Your tea, milady.”

Eden’s eyes fluttered open as something cold and wet slid along her cheek. She had dozed off, she suddenly realized. And Travis was beside her, touching her hot face with the chilled, glistening bottle of iced tea.

“Feel good?” He met her startled gaze with a grin as the glassy coolness slipped dreamily down the curve of her throat, to pause at the neckline of her damp silk blouse. Eden’s eyelids floated shut, then jerked open again.

“Give me that!” Flustered and confused, she snatched the bottle out of his hand. “Wh-where’s Nicole?”

“Inside, buying the toothbrush she forgot to pack.” He swung into the seat beside her, balancing a bucket-size colddrink cup in his left hand. “Sorry it’s so hot in here. My next truck will have air-conditioning, I promise.”

“If my memory doesn’t fail me, there’s a Ford dealership off the next exit.”

“Very funny.” He tossed Nicole’s snacks onto her seat, then leaned back and took a long pull on his straw. “You’re all right, Eden Harper. You’ve got class.”

Eden forced her hazy mind to generate a response. “More class than Edna Rae?”

A shadow flickered across his face, then swiftly vanished. “Edna Rae had class, too,” he said. “She just didn’t know it.” Without asking, he reclaimed her iced-tea bottle and twisted off the lid. “Here, drink up. It’ll help cool you off.”

Accepting the tea, Eden tilted back her head and let its lovely brisk coldness trickle down her throat. She’d gotten up at 4:30 a.m. to catch a cab to La Guardia for the flight west. She was sweaty and exhausted. Her clothes were glued to her body, her hair was a windblown mess, and the aspirin she’d taken earlier hadn’t even made a dent in her headache.

But at least, she realized, her hiccups had stopped.

She cradled the icy bottle between her palms, painfully conscious of Travis’s presence beside her. Striving for an air of cool detachment, she raised the bottle to her lips and took a deep swallow. The tea went down her windpipe. She coughed and sputtered, wishing passionately that she could just melt into the floorboard and disappear.

“Hey, are you okay?” The edge in Travis’s voice could have been either concern or amusement.

She nodded, struggling against the cough reflex. “I’m…fine. It’s just…Edna Rae, coming back to…haunt me.”

Again, that odd dark shadow flickered across his face. “Eden, you don’t have to—”

He broke off as Nicole came bounding into sight, waving the toothbrush she’d bought. Eden felt a prickle of relief. Forget the past, she told herself. Forget it all. That was the only sensible thing to do.

Nicole popped into the cab and slammed the door hard. Her free hand darted to the radio, flipped on the power switch and punched the select buttons till the heavy-metal beat of a local rock station blared out of the speakers.

“Okay, Daddy?” she shouted over the volume.

“Eden?” Travis shot her a questioning glance.

“Fine.” Eden slumped into the seat cushions, her head throbbing in rhythm with the beat. She’d long since outgrown her taste for hard rock, but at least with the music blasting, she wouldn’t be expected to carry on a conversation.

“Seat belts, ladies!” Travis swung the truck out of the parking lot and back toward the freeway. Eden complied groggily as the long day’s fatigue caught up with her. The traffic, the billboards and the gray-green June landscape swam and blurred in her vision. Even Nicole’s radio music dimmed as her eyelids grew heavier…

Travis exhaled as the weight of Eden’s head plopped against his shoulder. Take it easy, he cautioned himself as he worked his hand between her linen-clad knees to reach the gearshift knob. Just shift your mind into neutral and keep it there until you’ve left this lady where she belongs.

Moving slowly, he put the truck into high gear and cranked the growling engine up to sixty-five for the long drive home. His eyes risked a glance at her sleeping face, even as he battled the temptation to let his gaze drift lower.

No, he reflected darkly, it had not been a smart idea, bringing her along. Over the years, he had managed to distance himself from Edna Rae and the trouble she’d caused him. He had buried her image, freezing it in the past like a photograph in an old high-school yearbook. For a long time now, he had felt safe.

But he could feel safe no longer. Not with Eden’s sleepy weight against his arm. Not with her hair blowing soft and pale against his sleeve and the warm damp sensuality of her fragrance curling in his nostrils.

Edna Rae was back, invading his life with an impact he had never imagined. It was as if some long-barred door inside him had cracked open, and he could not see what was on the other side. He was intrigued, Travis conceded. He was also confused, angry, and plain damned scared.

The only sensible course was to play it cool. Be friendly with the lady. Talk to her. Joke with her as if nothing had happened. Then leave her at her front door and run like a five-point buck.

He had put the past behind him. Nothing—not even a sexy, vulnerable, funny lady with spun-sugar hair—was worth bringing it back.