Читать книгу The Backup Plan - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 8

“I don’t know how Bobby and Cordell could possibly come from the same gene pool,” Dinah told her friend Maggie as they sipped iced tea on the veranda of Maggie’s converted gatehouse a few blocks from the harbor in the historic downtown section of Charleston. “Bobby is sweet and kind and smart and ambitious. Cordell is …” For a woman who made her living with words, she couldn’t find any to describe just what a low-down scoundrel she thought he was.

“Handsome, smart, sexy as sin,” Maggie supplied.

Dinah regarded her with amazement. “Are you crazy?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice,” Maggie teased. “That’s why you’re all tongue-tied and pink-cheeked. What was he wearing? Jeans and nothing else, am I right?” She fanned herself in an exaggerated gesture designed to make a point. “He’s the only man I know who can turn denim into a proper fashion statement.” Her grin spread. “Or should I say improper?”

“I didn’t notice,” Dinah claimed piously.

“Like hell, you didn’t. You’re a female, aren’t you?

All women notice Cordell’s …” She paused significantly, then added, “Attributes.”

“Magnolia Forsythe! A lady does not utter such a comment about a gentleman.”

Maggie grinned at the direct quotation uttered all too frequently by their prim principal throughout their grammar school days. “According to you, Cordell is no gentleman. Give it up, girl. You’ve been gone a long time and probably hiding out in caves for much of it. The only reason you’re so upset with Cord is because he made you sit up and take notice of what a real man looks like.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dinah declared emphatically. Seeing Cord had reinforced just what an ill-mannered lowlife he was. He’d always taken an inordinate amount of pleasure in aggravating her. Nor would she ever forget or forgive what he’d once done to try to drive a wedge between her and Bobby. “I wouldn’t give him a second look if he were the last man on earth. Bobby overcame those unfortunate Beaufort genes, but Cord certainly hasn’t. He’s pond scum. Always was. Always will be.”

Maggie’s knowing smile spread.

“Well, he is,” Dinah insisted.

“Whatever you say, though you were far less judgmental when we were in grammar school. Weren’t you the one who insisted that both Cord and Bobby needed to be included in our birthday parties, even when our folks cringed at the very idea of it?”

“I was thinking of Bobby,” Dinah insisted. “I didn’t want his feelings to be hurt. After all, he was our classmate. He’s the one who insisted on dragging Cord along. He worshipped his big brother, though Lord knows why.”

“And you didn’t give two figs about Cord’s feelings?” Maggie asked, her skepticism plain.

Dinah frowned. “Okay, yes. Maybe a little. It would have been rude to leave him out. Neither one of them could help that they were poor. Bobby took the opportunities they were given and made something of himself. Cord’s apparently as lazy as ever.”

Maggie merely raised a brow at that. “And I thought journalists were supposed to gather facts, not leap to conclusions.”

There was something in her friend’s tone as well as her words that suggested Dinah had gotten it all wrong. “Why have you turned into some big defender of Cord Beaufort all of a sudden?”

“I’m not. I’m just encouraging you to do your research before you rip apart a man you haven’t seen in years,” Maggie said defensively.

“Are you telling me I’m mistaken?”

“I’m telling you to do a little of that investigative reporting you’re so famous for.”

The chiding note in Maggie’s voice silenced Dinah. She took a long swallow of her sweet tea and sighed. It was a little like drinking ice-cold syrup. “This is heaven. I haven’t had tea like this since I left home.”

“It’s about time you remembered some of the good things about living here,” Maggie said lightly. “Maybe you’ll come home more often.”

Dinah hesitated before responding. She’d known Maggie since they’d made mud pies together in preschool. Of all the girls at their fancy private school, they’d been the only two who hadn’t been afraid to get their pretty little school dresses dirty. They’d become best friends growing up together, sharing confidences, talking about boys and sex, hopes and dreams.

Maggie was the first one Dinah had told when she’d decided to defy parental expectations by going after a job as a foreign correspondent rather than marrying well. Maybe it was only fitting that she be the first one Dinah told that she was quitting her dream job.

“Actually, I’m about eighty percent sure I’m here to stay,” Dinah said quietly. Despite the fact that she’d said the words to herself before leaving Afghanistan, she hadn’t entirely believed them. Now that she was home she knew the chances of her returning to her network career were decreasing daily. She wasn’t getting any happier about it, just more resigned to the fact that Ray Mitchell had been right. If she could sit around for an entire afternoon sipping sweet tea without getting antsy and bored, then she couldn’t ignore the probability that she had lost the hunger, drive and insight required of a top-notch reporter. Maybe quitting had been the smart thing to do, after all. Maybe it hadn’t been the colossal mistake she’d assumed it was the minute the words had left her mouth.

Maggie let out an exuberant whoop not unlike Maybelle’s, then sobered at once. “Why?” she demanded, her gaze raking over Dinah. “You didn’t go and get yourself shot or something, did you? Not after that close call you had a few months back. That must have been awful, by the way. I told your mama to give you my love.”

“She did,” Dinah confirmed. “And no, nothing’s happened since then.”

“Then you’re not recuperating? You didn’t catch some fatal disease?”

“No, I wasn’t shot and I’m not sick,” Dinah said. Her soul had broken and it couldn’t be mended in any hospital or even by a long rest at home. “I’m just tired.”

“Well, why on earth wouldn’t you be? Sometimes when I see you on the air and realize where you are and what you’ve seen, my heart just aches for you. Your mama and daddy must be over the moon knowing you’re safe and back for good.”

“Actually I haven’t told them yet. You’re the only one who knows. Well, besides Maybelle, and I’ve sworn her to secrecy. I’m asking you to keep this quiet, too. I’m not ready to explain it to anyone.” She gave Maggie a pointed look. “Not even you, okay?”

“No, it most definitely is not okay,” Maggie said. “What is wrong with you? What’s to explain? Tell them, Di. They’ll be ecstatic.” She regarded Dinah with concern. “If it’s something you can’t tell your parents, surely you can tell me. You know I’ll be discreet. I never told a living soul that you spent the night with Bobby after prom, instead of with me, did I? I won’t say a word about whatever you tell me now.”

“I know you wouldn’t, but my mind’s still reeling. I need to work this out before I talk about it. As for my parents being ecstatic, I’m not so sure about that,” Dinah said. “It’s true that they weren’t that happy when I left. Mother thinks anything outside South Carolina’s borders is Satan’s turf, but they’ve come to enjoy bragging about their little girl being a foreign correspondent. I think they’re going to be disappointed that I’m giving it up.”

“Don’t you believe that for one single second,” Maggie scoffed. “I can’t tell you how often your mama has said how much she misses you and wishes you’d come back here and settle down and give her some grandbabies.” She grinned impudently. “Those brats of your brother’s can’t be much fun,” she said, then amended politely, “No disrespect intended.”

Dinah laughed. “They are out of control, aren’t they? They were at the house for dinner night before last and it was all I could do not to suggest we hogtie ‘em and leave ‘em in the backyard till the rest of us had finished having a civilized meal. If my children turn out like that, please take me out and shoot me.”

“You couldn’t possibly have children like that,” Maggie said loyally. “You were raised by a Rawlings.”

“So was Tommy Lee,” Dinah noted, thinking about how oblivious her brother had seemed to his children’s bad behavior during the family dinner. He and their father had been at odds, too. She supposed she ought to sit down with Tommy Lee and figure out what was bugging him, but she knew she needed to get her own life straightened out before she could be a help to anyone else, even her own brother.

Maggie gave her a disbelieving look. “Maybe your mama influenced Tommy Lee, but men aren’t the ones who teach their children good manners. It’s left up to women. And your sister-in-law’s as sweet as can be, but she wasn’t exactly raised by a woman familiar with Emily Post’s rules on etiquette.”

Lord knows, that was true enough, Dinah thought. Her brother’s wife had narrowly escaped a troubled past and an uncertain future when she’d met Tommy Lee under circumstances no one ever dared ask about. That the two were head over heels in love had been enough for everyone to look the other way, with the possible exception of Dorothy Davis who made repeated attempts to bring her daughter-in-law up to her own high standards of conduct.

Unfortunately, all the lessons in the world weren’t going to turn Laurinda into anybody’s notion of a genteel Southern belle. Dinah almost admired the stubborn way she’d clung to her own identity. Standing up to Dorothy Davis took more courage than Dinah had ever had. In fact, her tendency to let her mother push her into doing things was one of the very many reasons she’d been so anxious to escape Charleston. It was bad enough that she’d undergone the torment of a debutante ball, but the prospect of having a lavish wedding to a suitable, hand-chosen man had been more than she could bear. She’d just about literally run for her life.

Now she was back and within the scope of all her mother’s plans. It didn’t bear thinking about.

“Let’s not talk about Laurie and Tommy Lee,” Dinah begged since thinking about those two had sent her off down memory lane.

“Then let’s get back to you,” Maggie agreed readily. “Why were you over at the Beauforts’ last night, anyway?”

“I went looking for Bobby.”

Maggie’s gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Because?”

“He’s an old friend, just like you. What other reason do I need?” Dinah asked, aware that a defensive note had crept into her voice.

Maggie regarded her blandly. “I don’t suppose it had anything at all to do with that ridiculous backup plan you two devised when you graduated from college and turned down his proposal.”

Dinah winced. That was the problem with sharing confidences with a woman who never forgot anything. Still, she feigned ignorance. “Backup plan?”

“You know, the one where the two of you get married if no one better comes along. I believe it was to kick in when your biological clock started ticking too loudly. I’m certain it was all on your terms. To this day I have no idea what Bobby got out of it, other than some dim hope that you’d eventually come to your senses.” Dinah cringed at the suggestion that she’d manipulated that agreement out of Bobby and that she was taking advantage of him even now. “You make it sound as if Bobby’s nothing more than a last resort.”

“Isn’t he?”

“Of course not. I just want to get together with him and catch up.”

“Is that some euphemism for getting him into your bed?”

“You’re being crass again,” Dinah accused. “It’s not about sex.”

“Then you’ve given up fame and fortune and rushed home because you suddenly had an epiphany in the middle of Afghanistan and realized that you’re wildly in love with him?” Maggie asked skeptically. “Because that’s the only reason that would justify you getting that poor man’s hopes all stirred up again after all these years.”

“I’ve always loved Bobby,” Dinah replied carefully. Not that he’d crossed her mind more than a half-dozen times in recent years and always with more fondness than passion. Good marriages had been built on a whole lot less, she told herself.

“Not the same thing as being in love with him,” Maggie replied. “Does your heart go pitter-pat when you see him?”

“I haven’t seen him in ten years,” she retorted irritably. The truth was her pulse had never skipped so much as a single beat at the sight of Bobby. He’d been comfortable and back then that’s all she’d wanted, a man who wouldn’t tangle her emotions into knots. That had left her free to pursue her own dreams.

Deep down Dinah recognized that Cord had seen her intentions and had set out in his own way to protect his brother, but Bobby hadn’t wanted his protection and she’d been shocked and angry that Cord would betray his brother’s trust the way he had.

“How would I know if Bobby turns me on?” she grumbled defensively.

“My point precisely,” Maggie said, clearly satisfied. She gave Dinah a knowing look. “I’ll bet Bobby has never once gotten you all worked up the way Cordell did just last night. Now there is a man worth throwing away a career just so you can have him climbing into your bed.”

Dinah thought of the way her blood had sizzled through her veins within ten seconds of trying to carry on a sensible conversation with Cord Beaufort. That was irritation, plain and simple. He’d been annoying her like that since they were toddlers.

“Bobby is sweet and kind and smart,” she repeated emphatically.

“And dull as dishwater,” Maggie countered. “You’ll be bored stiff in a week.”

“And you think Cord would be an improvement?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re out of your mind.” The very last thing she needed in her life was a man who made her feel prickly and restless, the kind of man who prided himself on taking women on some sort of emotional roller-coaster ride. She’d given up danger when she’d left Afghanistan.

Maggie grinned. “We’ll see,” she said with smug confidence.

Dinah decided it was past time to turn the tables on her friend. “What about you, Magnolia?” she inquired, deliberately using her friend’s hated real name. “Anyone special in your life? Since you seem so fascinated by Cordell, perhaps you should be encouraging him to give you a tumble.”

“I tried, to be perfectly honest,” Maggie admitted. “He wouldn’t give me a second look. I’m far too tame for the likes of Cordell.”

“And I’m not?”

“You play a form of roulette with car bombs and rebel gunmen,” Maggie replied. “I’d say that qualifies you for a man who likes living on the edge.”

Dinah sighed. Though no one here knew it, she’d fallen for a man like that, a man who courted real danger every day. She’d wound up with a broken heart. Of course, there was a vast difference between physical danger and the emotional minefield a woman would have to tiptoe through with Cord. Even so, Dinah wanted no part of it.

“I’ve had it with risk-taking,” she told her friend emphatically. “I think Bobby’s definitely the way to go.”

“But you haven’t caught up with him yet?”

“No. I asked Cord to have him call me, but so far I haven’t heard a word.”

“And you haven’t gone chasing after him?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe that should tell you something,” Maggie suggested gently.

“What? That Cord didn’t pass on the message?”

“That, or maybe you don’t care enough to make the effort. Then, again, maybe it means that Bobby’s moved on with his life. It has been ten years. Even an eternal optimist can get tired of waiting around after that long.”

Dinah studied Maggie. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Just that I don’t want you to be setting yourself up for disappointment if Bobby doesn’t fall right in with your plans.”

That was definitely something Dinah hadn’t considered. Maybe she really was a self-absorbed idiot to think he’d been waiting for her all this time. Their deal had merely been that they’d get together, if they happened to be available.

“You think he won’t?” she asked Maggie.

“I can’t say. That’s up to him.”

Dinah had a feeling there was something that Maggie was deliberately keeping from her. She usually wasn’t so circumspect. “If you know something you think I should know, tell me,” she commanded.

Maggie shook her head. “Not a chance. This is between you and Bobby.” She grinned. “And maybe Cordell. Something tells me he’s going to figure in this before all is said and done.”

“You are turning out to be almost as exasperating as he was,” Dinah accused lightly. “Doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though. Can we have dinner soon?”

“My calendar’s disgustingly open. Just tell me when,” Maggie said. “Now I’d better get back to work before my employees stage a rebellion. The last time I took a long lunch they sold a valuable painting at half price. Said they couldn’t find a sticker on it, so they negotiated. They claimed their blood sugar had dropped so low, they forgot about the price list we keep in the file.”

Dinah chuckled at what was most likely no exaggeration. “I promise I’ll come by to see this gallery of yours in a day or two and we’ll schedule dinner.”

“Don’t wait too long,” Maggie ordered. “Or I’ll come looking for you.”

“It’s good to see you, Maggie. I’ve missed you,” Dinah said, giving her friend a fierce hug.

“Missed you more.”

Dinah stood on the sidewalk in front of Maggie’s place and watched her friend head off down the street to her successful gallery. She looked purposeful and confident, two traits Dinah wondered if she’d ever feel again.

Covington Plantation was a labor of love for Cord. Putting up with the board members and fighting for every penny to do the job right took more patience than waiting for the first cool breeze of fall, but it was going to be worth it to see this grand old house restored to its former glory.

For a kid who’d grown up in a place that was little more than a run-down shack, a house like this represented everything his home hadn’t been. It was solid and spoke of proud ancestors. His own ancestors had been unremarkable and there had been nothing dependable about the two people who’d raised him and Bobby. They’d contributed genes and not much else. It was the charity of others that had given him and Bobby a chance at a better life. As much as it had grated to accept the private-school tuition, the church handouts, the free lunches, they’d swallowed their pride and done it.

Bobby had fit in better than Cord. Even as a kid, he’d had an ingratiating way about him, while Cord had radiated little better than grudging tolerance for those who’d extended a helping hand. He’d seethed with ungracious resentment and unwarranted pride, but he had managed to keep it under wraps for Bobby’s sake and ultimately for his own.

He felt a whole lot better about it now, knowing that he had the respect of some of those same people who’d seen helping him and Bobby as their ticket into heaven. With the wisdom of age, Cord was just realizing that some of those folks were simply being generous because they’d seen two kids in trouble. They had honestly wanted to help put them on the right track.

It was a matter of pride, though, that he’d earned their respect, that they’d turned to him when they were ready to proceed with the Covington Plantation renovation. He hadn’t had to beg for the chance to bid, though he might have done it just for the opportunity to be a part of saving the house. As a kid he’d liked riding his bike out here.

He liked the stately old plantation house best early in the morning with the sun just starting to filter through the ancient trees and the sound of the birds breaking the silence. Sometimes as a boy, he’d sat on the front steps with a cold Coke in his hand and imagined he could hear the squabbles coming from the family inside or the distant singing of slaves working in the rice fields. Being here spoke to him of the past more clearly than any history teacher ever had.

He’d never want to go back to that sad time period, but now that he was all grown up, he liked knowing that he could preserve a little piece of it as a reminder of another era. More than that, he liked saving structures that had been meant to last, restoring their beauty and craftsmanship for future generations to enjoy.

Usually this half hour before his crew arrived was a tranquil time, but ever since Dinah Davis had come by the house in search of Bobby, there hadn’t been a peaceful moment in his life. That woman had gotten under his skin, just as she had years ago. A part of him wanted to put her in her place. Another part—the very male part of him—wanted to kiss that uppity expression off her face. He’d struggled with the same dilemma as far back as he could remember.

Okay, maybe not quite as far back as elementary school, but it had definitely crossed his mind starting with puberty. Even then he’d somehow known he would be better for her than Bobby, who’d followed her around like an adoring puppy. When he couldn’t stand his brother’s attitude a minute longer, he’d done something about it, something that had almost caused a permanent rift with his brother and had left Dinah hating his guts.

When his cell phone rang, he glanced at the caller ID and suffered a pang of remorse.

“Hey, Bobby,” he said, stuffing down the faint trace of guilt he felt over keeping his mouth shut about Dinah’s return. What was a little guilty silence, when the end result would be his brother’s happiness? “How’s it going in Atlanta?”

“We’re on schedule and under budget,” Bobby announced. “Which you would know if you read the reports I fax over there every damn day.”

Cord grinned. He enjoyed keeping up the pretense that he ignored all Bobby’s carefully detailed paperwork. It drove his brother nuts. “I believe I swept up a whole bagful of those reports just the other day. Summarize for me.”

Bobby did just that in tedious detail.

“Sounds like everything’s under control, then. You’re doing great work,” Cord praised. “That project’s going to be a real showcase for us and you deserve all the credit.”

The truth was that they made a great team. Bobby knew the construction trade almost as well as Cord did, but while Cord loved working with his hands and considered himself a skilled craftsman, Bobby excelled at staying on top of the details, working out cost projections and smooth-talking their backers. He was a natural for the Atlanta renovation project.

The Atlanta development was the most ambitious they’d done so far, encompassing an entire section of old buildings that had been destined for a wrecker’s ball until Bobby and Cord had put together a proposal and bid on the property. When it was finished, there would be shops, restaurants and apartments in high-ceilinged old buildings with glowing hardwood floors, beautiful crown molding and a dozen other historic touches rarely found in this day and age. They and their backers stood to triple their investment, to say nothing of what the finished project would do to move them into the ranks of the elite historical preservationists in the country.

Suddenly Cord recalled one of the first things Bobby had said. “Just how far ahead of schedule are you?”

“A few weeks. I’ll be back home before you know it, bro. I’ve got to tell you, I can’t wait. Living in a hotel room is getting on my nerves. I was thinking I might drive over this weekend. It would give us a chance to go over those other projects we’ve got lined up. We need to think about assigning someone to oversee them. There’s too much work for us to do it ourselves.”

Cord flinched. “No rush on that,” he said at once. “Just concentrate on wrapping things up in Atlanta. I’ve got everything here under control.”

“You still on speaking terms with the board at Covington?” Bobby asked worriedly.

Cord laughed. “Haven’t insulted anybody in a couple of days now, as a matter of fact.” Unless he took into account Dinah, but that was definitely not something he cared to share.

“You sure about that?” Bobby asked, his skepticism plain. “I know there was a big meeting this week and I know how you hate that kind of thing.” “We all survived it.”

“Any ruffled feathers need smoothing over?”

“None,” Cord assured him. “I was on my best behavior. I swear it.”

“Why don’t I find that nearly as reassuring as you evidently want me to?”

“Because you’re a suspicious kind of guy?” Cord suggested. Because he feared that sooner or later he’d slip up and mention Dinah, Cord balled up a piece of paper beside the mouthpiece of the phone. “Hey, Bobby, the connection’s going. We’ll talk again soon, okay?”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me. I know that trick,” he declared just as Cord hit the disconnect button.

Cord sighed, thanking his lucky stars that Bobby wasn’t the kind of man who asked about the latest gossip. When his phone immediately rang again, he ignored it.

The last thing Cord wanted to do was utter an outright lie. It was better for Bobby to keep right on working his tail off in Atlanta in blissful ignorance. Since Bobby also happened to have a fiancée, Cord could even tell himself he was being noble and protecting her interests as well.

Just then another fleeting image of Dinah Davis with her endless legs and lush curves popped into his head and made a liar out of him. That didn’t mean he intended to do anything about the attraction, he assured himself. He surely wasn’t going to go chasing after her.

But the best part of having known a female since childhood was the long-standing awareness of her weaknesses. Sooner or later frustration and indignation were going to kick in and Dinah was going to come to him.

Cord lifted his cup of coffee in a silent toast to predictability. God bless it! He’d gotten more women just by waiting them out than most men had with flowers and candy. Patience was a gift, no question about it. Luckily, he’d been born with an abundance of it.