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”Hello again.”
Eden’s breathy contralto, coming from directly behind him, jolted Travis back to the present. He swiveled in his seat to look at her, his eyes taking in the clean square planes of her face, the taffy gold mass of her hair and the chic drape of the expensive pantsuit on her slender frame. For whatever it was worth, drab little Edna Rae had grown up to be a stunner.
“Uh, hello,” he replied, caught off guard. After the way she’d gone dashing off, the last thing he’d expected was to have her show up again.
She came around the back of the settee, eyes downcast, cheeks becomingly flushed. Travis watched her in silence, liking her walk, liking, in spite of everything, the catlike way she lowered herself onto the edge of the chair that faced him across the low table. The image of her, bolting crimson-faced out of the men’s room, stole into his mind, coaxing his mouth into a bemused smile.
“I came to apologize,” she said.
In the tick of silence that followed, Travis was aware of a jet screaming down the runway outside the window.
“Apologize? For what?” he forced himself to ask.
“For today. For this whole silly mess. I was hiding out in the rest room when I realized I was being a defensive fool, and that none of what I was feeling was your fault. I’m sorry for that.”
“There’s no need to be sorry about anything.” He mouthed the words, wondering where all this was leading. A typical woman would not apologize unless she had some agenda in mind. But then, there’d never been anything typical about Edna Rae Harper.
She stared awkwardly at her hands, looking, at that instant, more like the shy Edna Rae than the polished Eden. “I realized something else, too. In the sixteen years since that awful day at school, I’ve never told you how sorry I was for the embarrassment I caused you.”
“I…never expected you to.” Travis forced himself to meet her eyes, wishing she’d chosen to talk about something else. His classmates had ribbed him mercilessly about that damn fool letter, but at least most of them had realized he was innocent. Not so the townspeople. By the time the story had circulated through the little community, Travis’s reputation had blackened to the hue of coal tar.
“You didn’t exactly have it easy yourself, did you?” he asked, shifting the burden of conversation back to her.
Eden’s gaze flickered to her lap again. She hadn’t come back to school for the rest of the year, Travis recalled. Her mother had claimed she was sick and received permission for the humiliated girl to complete her last two weeks of schoolwork by correspondence.
“That ridiculous letter was private,” she said, staring down at her manicured hands with their pale peach nails. “I never meant anyone to see it, especially you.”
“I know that,” Travis feigned a detachment he did not feel. “How were you to know that Howie Segmiller would find the letter in your looseleaf and make copies for the whole school?”
A shudder passed through Eden’s slim controlled body. “I…I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I couldn’t even think about yours. I can only imagine how much difficulty that letter must have caused you.”
Travis’s restless fingers curled the paperback into a thick roll. He’d been going steady with Cheryl McKinley, the prettiest girl in the junior class, he recalled. Three days after the letter incident, Cheryl had informed him that her parents wouldn’t let her date him anymore.
Cheryl had married a beet farmer from Sigurd and had five kids now. He had gone off to the University of Utah and met Diane.
“It’s over, Eden,” he said with a shrug. “Water under the bridge, as they say. We’re both different people now.”
“Yes…I suppose we are.” She managed a strained smile. “Whatever happened to Howie Segmiller, anyway?”
“Last time I spoke with his mother, he was running for city council in Pioche, Nevada.”
“I was hoping to hear he was doing time at Point of the Mountain!” She managed a husky little laugh—fragile but real. Travis found himself wanting to hear it again.
“Howie Segmiller a jailbird?” He shook his head, chuckling. “Oh, Howie was no angel, I’ll grant you. But he was too smart to get more than a hand slap. Perfect political material!”
Eden did laugh then, a surprisingly delicious sound, as sexy as the rustle of silk against a bare thigh. For a few seconds Travis allowed himself to bask in it, savoring the naughty little tickle it gave him.
What if he was to push the idea of giving her a ride home? He’d brought up the subject out of politeness the first time and had shrugged off her refusal with a sense of relief. But what harm would it do? The long bus trip south, with its endless string of ten-minute stops, was an ordeal nobody deserved. He could—
Forget it!
This was Edna Rae Harper, he reminded himself. He had spent years undoing the damage her dumb teenage fantasy had caused.
Some things were too hard won to risk.
Travis glanced at his watch again as a crowd of passengers spilled out of a gate and onto the concourse. Across from him, Eden stirred and reached for her briefcase.
“It’s time I was going,” she said. “My luggage will be coming in, and I can see that you’re waiting for someone.”
“I’m waiting for my daughter. But she’s not due in for a few minutes yet.” Travis realized he’d just issued an invitation for Eden to stick around. Strangely enough, he was enjoying her company more than he’d expected.
“Your daughter?” The sunlight slanted soft gold on her face as she leaned toward him. “So you’ve got a little girl!” she exclaimed with an animation that made Travis wince.
“That’s right. But Nicole’s not so little anymore. She turned fourteen last month.”
“Fourteen.” Eden hesitated, then slowly released her grip on the handle of her briefcase. “Where’s she flying from?”
“California. She lives there with her mother and stepfather. I get her every summer.” Travis’s voice carried an edge. Nine years was plenty of time to get over Diane. But losing Nicole—that part had never stopped hurting.
Well, the hurt was about to ease, he reminded himself. A few minutes from now, the plane would be touching down on the tarmac, and Nicole would be back in his life. His little pal. His hiking, camping, fishing and riding partner for the rest of the summer. It would be wonderful to feel like a father again.
Travis watched the flight of a sea gull as it skimmed past the window and veered out over the runway. His restless fingers ruffled the pages of the paperback in his lap.
Soon, he thought. Soon.
And in the meantime, there was the intriguing Miss Harper.
Eden uncrossed her legs and smoothed out a crease in her linen slacks. Now would be the smart time to get up and leave, she admonished herself. Travis’s daughter would be arriving any minute. Seeing her father with a strange woman could give the young girl a painfully wrong impression.
But Travis seemed in no hurry to have her go. He was leaning back in his seat, regarding her lazily. Was he resentful, amused or merely bored? Eden could read no clue in the smoky depths of his narrowed eyes.
She fiddled with her briefcase, her pulse clunking like a bent bicycle wheel as she grappled with this new set of realities.
Travis, divorced, with a fourteen-year-old daughter.
Travis, sitting across from her as if they had never been anything but friends.
Her restless gaze dropped to the big, sun-bronzed hand that lay across the open paperback, and she pondered his lack of wedding ring. It was impossible to believe Travis Conroy could be unattached for long. He’d had females chasing him since he was in kindergarten. All he had to do was take his pick.
Oh, what was she doing here, thinking inanities and blushing like a moron? She had to get out of here before she made a complete fool of herself.
“So tell me what you do in New York,” he said, making a stab at conversation.
“Me?” Eden blinked her mind back into focus. “Oh…I’ve just been promoted to senior editor at Parnell Books. I’ve got my eye on my boss’s job when he retires next year—that is, if some other publishing house doesn’t lure me away first.”
A smile flickered enticingly around his eyes. “So you’re an editor. I always thought you had the brains to make something of yourself.”
“Really?” The compliment had caught Eden off guard. Her heart sank as she felt the all-too-familiar flush of color creep up her throat to flood her cheeks. She groped for something to fill the excruciating silence.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen your daughter?” she asked lamely.
“Too long.” He shifted his shoulders with a sigh. “I was supposed to have her over the Christmas holidays, but she came down with chicken pox. Diane promised me spring vacation to make up the time, but then Nicole had a chance to go to Hawaii with her cousins. She was so damned excited about it. What could I say?”
“So you haven’t seen her since last fall?”
“Nope.” Travis stretched his long legs, crossing his worn cowboy boots at the ankles. “And I’m getting pretty anxious. She’s a special little lady. Gets good grades, plays the flute like an angel. And she likes camping and fishing almost as much as her old dad does. We’re going to have a great time this summer, just—”
He broke off as the PA blared, announcing an arrival at gate B-16. “Hey! That’s Nicole’s flight! Come on, I’ll introduce you!”
“I really don’t think…” Eden began. But he was already out of earshot, charging down the concourse toward the swarm of deplaning passengers.
Eden hesitated. Then, resolving not to follow him, she stood up, slung her heavy briefcase over one shoulder and strode in the opposite direction, toward the escalator that led down to the baggage-claim area. It was time for a fast exit. An extra couple of hours on a bus were nothing compared to what she could get herself into by sticking around.
Except…She paused, torn by curiosity. After the way Travis had rhapsodized about his little girl, it might be interesting to see what she looked like. It would be an intriguing challenge, Eden mused, to try to pick Travis’s daughter out of a crowd. Afterward, it would still be easy enough to slip away and catch a taxi for the Greyhound depot.
Impulsively she turned around and strolled back along the far side of the concourse to an unobtrusive spot that gave her a view of the gate. She could see Travis, pine-tall, straining forward as the passengers filed out of the jetway. Clearly he was still watching for his daughter.
Settling back against the wall, Eden began to play her game, assessing each female passenger who emerged through the gate. A young woman with a baby—no. A chic fiftyish matron in a designer suit—certainly not. A pubescent child-woman in sunglasses, skintight hip huggers and a formfitting crop top—hardly! A pretty, young—yes, of course! The studious-looking girl carrying a flute case, her chestnut curls tied back with a ribbon. No doubt about it. That was Nicole.
Eden glanced over at Travis. He was standing stock-still, looking as if he’d just been poleaxed.
“Nicole!” He rasped out the name as the young girl with the flute case passed him without a glance.
“Nicole, over here!”
A squeal of delight exploded from the nymphet in the skintight jeans.
“Daddy!” she warbled, hurling herself into Travis’s arms with a force that nearly bowled him over. “Oh, Daddy! You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you!”
Chapter Two (#ulink_a721b5ec-f501-5141-8b0c-c623cab72572)
“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?
