His Secret Child (7 page)

Pat opened the door of his minivan, took Sheila's arm and assisted her. Settling into the seat after fastening the safety belt, she relaxed and waited for Pat to start the engine. She always enjoyed dates with Pat. He was kind, considerate, and a real gentleman. She supposed if she was a smart woman, she'd allow their relationship to become as serious as he wanted it to be. But as fond as she was of him, she knew that she would never again settle for less than the real thing.

She had been married once to a good man who had treated her well and taken care of her and her son. But she'd never loved Daniel Vance, not the way a woman should love her husband. Her stomach had never fluttered nervously just looking at him. Her body had never sang when he touched her. She had never fallen apart in his arms. Never cried out from the sheer joy of having him inside her. Never held his pillow close after he'd left the bed, simply so she could smell his scent.

She had accepted a marriage without passion once, for Danny's sake. But she would never do it again. Not for any reason. If she ever married again, it would be for love and love alone.

"Did you enjoy the movie?" Pat asked as he started the van.

"Oh, yes, I like romantic comedies. I hope you weren't bored. Danny would have hated it. He is such a typical male."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing Bill Finch took the boys bowling tonight."

"Bill's kind enough to include Danny in a lot of his activities with Tanner. He realizes how difficult it is for Danny not to have a father."

Pat looked at her before setting the van into gear.

"Sheila, you know how much I care about Danny and about—"

"Pat, I thought we agreed that tonight's date would be just fun. No serious discussions."

"Sorry," he said. "You're right. Just fun tonight." He slowed the van and nodded toward the brightly lit building on the left of the road. "What do you say we stop by the Pale Rider? We could have a drink and dance a little? I know it's not the kind of place you'd ordinarily go to, but I just thought since—"

"I'd love to go to the Pale Rider for a drink. And I haven't danced since Mike's wedding."

They entered the smoky interior of Crooked Oak's one and only nightspot, a good ole boy's paradise of country music, cheap beer and women on the make. Sheila had been inside the madhouse only once before, and she'd never forget that night. It was the night Tallie Bishop had gotten in the middle of a fistfight between Eric Miller and Peyton Rand. Tallie had wound up breaking Eric's nose. And that was the same night her other best friend, Susan Williams, had danced with Lowell Redman, her future husband, for the first time.

"Do you see an empty table?" Pat asked, peering through the smoke.

"There's one." Sheila pointed out a table to the right, near the back of the crowded room. But just as they headed for the empty spot, another couple took occupancy. "Oh, well." Sheila shrugged her shoulders.

"Would you like to dance first?" Pat suggested. "Then if we can't find a table, we can have a beer at the bar."

"Fine with me." She practically shouted her reply because the band had just struck up a new foot-patting beat.

Standing as tall as he at five foot ten, Sheila went into Pat's arms and smiled directly at him. They moved to the rhythm of the upbeat music, the zing of a steel guitar buzzing in their ears.

God, it was good to relax and have a good time. Good not to worry about life's daily chores. Good not to have to think about a man who held the power to destroy the tranquility of her life.

Smiling contentedly as Pat whirled her around the dance floor, Sheila caught a glimpse of another couple next to them and for one brief moment her heart stopped. She should have known better than to come into the Pale Rider on a Friday night. She should have known that Caleb Bishop would be here with another woman. Gwyn Baker had her arms draped around Caleb's neck and her body pressed intimately against his. Her head rested on his chest and Caleb's left hand cupped her hip. A sick feeling hit Sheila square in the stomach.

Don't do this to yourself. You sent him away. You told him that you didn't want him on his terms. He has every right to go to another woman for what you aren't willing to give him.

"Well, hi, there, you two," Gwyn said. "Look, Caleb, it's Sheila and Pat. Shoot fire, I never thought I'd see you in here, Sheila."

"We just stopped by for a drink, but decided to go ahead and dance since we couldn't find a table," Pat explained.

"Hey, why don't y'all share our table? We've got room." She grabbed Caleb's left hand, then reached out and grabbed Pat's arm. "Come on. We'll order a fresh round of drinks and talk for a while."

Sheila and Caleb exchanged a quick, uncertain glance, before Sheila reluctantly followed Pat's lead and joined the couple at their nearby table.

"So, you two are dating again, huh?" Gwyn leaned over and wrapped her arm around Caleb's neck. "You probably don't know this," she told Caleb, "but Pat's been trying to get to first base with Sheila for nearly two years now and she keeps playing hard to get."

Sheila realized that Gwyn Baker was, as the old folks said, "three sheets to the wind." Wondering if Pat felt as uncomfortable as she did, she glanced his way and noted the pink flush creeping up his neck and spotting his cheeks.

Ignoring Gwyn's tactless comment, Caleb ordered a round of drinks and tried to dislodge her tenacious hold from around his neck.

"I say you're a fool not to take Pat up on what he's got to offer," Gwyn advised. "After all, it's not easy finding a man interested in marrying women like us, who aren't so young anymore and are saddled with kids. And it's got to be even harder for you, honey, considering you don't exactly come equipped with all the stuff men seem to like so much. You know—a pretty face, a skinny body and big boobs."

"Would you mind if I dance with your date?" Caleb asked Pat as he eased back his chair and offered Sheila his hand.

"No, er, not at all," Pat said, obviously uncertain how to respond to Gwyn's blatant insult or Caleb's unexpected request.

Sheila hesitated momentarily, then decided it would be simpler and easier to accept Caleb's offer than to sit awkwardly at the table and try to be pleasant after Gwyn's unintentionally rude comment.

Caleb didn't say a word as he led her through the crowd and onto the dance floor. She understood that he was simply trying to diffuse a potentially explosive situation, but she wished he'd found another way. Something that didn't require him taking her into his arms.

She closed her eyes as the pain spread through her mind and body. She didn't want his pity. Couldn't bear for him to feel sorry for her. She didn't need any more crumbs of kindness from him.

It would be so easy to relax in his arms, to allow the intimate sway of their bodies moving in unison to overrule her common sense. But she didn't dare give in to her deepest, heartfelt yearnings. She'd done that once and lived to regret her foolishness.

He caressed her back with gentle, circular motions, his actions soothing the tension boiling inside her. As he pulled her closer, he lowered his head and whispered in her ear, "She was wrong, you know."

Don't,
she wanted to scream.
Don't say anything stupid. Don't try to make things right.
"She wasn't wrong. I've always known my shortcomings as a woman. I've just never had anyone point them out so frankly."

"Gwyn's drunk," he said. "She has no idea she said anything inappropriate."

"I know she's had too much to drink and I know she didn't mean to be unkind," Sheila said just as the band finished their tune. She moved out of Caleb's arms and turned, but before she could take one step, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his embrace.

"Gwyn was wrong about your not being pretty," Caleb said. "You are pretty."

"You're just making matters worse by lying to me," she told him. "I've known all my life that I was a big, raw-boned girl. Lord knows, I've never been skinny. I don't have large breasts and I'm as plain as an old shoe."

"I'm not lying. I do think you're pretty. You have a fresh, wholesome beauty." While his right arm draped her waist, he eased his left hand up and under her chin-length hair. Grasping her neck, he urged her face closer to his.

She sucked in a deep, nervous breath and gazed into his dark eyes. "Are you trying to sweet-talk me, Caleb Bishop?"

"Yes, ma'am, I am." He pressed his cheek against hers and held her body intimately to his.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and decided to enjoy the moment, fleeting as it was. One perfect moment wrapped in Caleb's arms. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to pretend, for just a little while, that she was pretty and he really did want her, that perhaps he loved her just a little bit.

She gasped softly when she felt his arousal. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him in surprise. He grinned at her.

"I'm attracted to big, rawboned girls who fill my arms completely and gaze longingly at me with their pretty blue eyes and shiver when I touch them." He led her in a slow, sensual dance across the room, then pulled her into a darkened corner hallway near the rear exit.

"Caleb, what do you think you're doing?" she asked when he pushed her up against the wall and braced his left hand beside her head.

He leaned into her, his lips almost touching hers. "You're pretty and sweet and smart, and I like you a lot, Sheila Hanley."

Her mouth gaped open. Her eyes rounded wide and full. "That—that's exactly what you said that night. The night … graduation night … in your car."

"I know. I remember. And I meant every word I said to you that night. You
were
pretty and sweet and smart, and I did like you a lot. I never—ever—meant to hurt you. It's just that you were such a damn powerful temptation that I couldn't resist taking you. Having a smart, sweet girl like you care about a dumb jock like me kind of went to my head. I wanted you so much that night"

"But you didn't love me. Guys like you don't fall in love with girls like me." She tried to escape from him, but he shoved his body into hers, pinning her against the wall.

"From my experience, love is highly overrated. I've thought I was in love several times and it didn't amount to anything. It didn't last. But liking a woman—I mean genuinely liking her—is a rare thing for me. Except for Tallie, you're the only female I've ever really liked."

"You like me?"

"I like you a whole heck of a lot."

"You date women like Gwyn. You adore them, make love to them, but you don't like them."

"I've never made love to another woman I liked, a woman who was my friend before she became my lover. You're the only one."

When he nuzzled her neck, she closed her eyes and melted against him. "Caleb, I can't handle this. You just want me because I'm a challenge, because I keep turning you down. You're bored and need some kind of diversion to take your mind off your troubles."

The kiss came so quickly that she had no time to protest. His lips covered hers with breath-robbing intensity. His sex throbbed against her belly. His tongue delved deeply into the moist cavern of her mouth. And she was lost to the power of his passion.

"Excuse me." A man bumped into Caleb's back as he passed them in the dark hallway. "Don't let me disturb you two. I'm just slipping out the back way."

Caleb ended the kiss abruptly. Breathing erratically, Sheila shoved him away and ran down the hallway and into the crowded, noisy throng. She quickly made her way back to the table where Gwyn was entertaining Pat with an off-color joke.

"Where's Caleb?" Gwyn asked.

"He'll be back in a minute," Sheila replied. "I think he went to the rest room." She turned to Pat. "I'm sorry to be a party pooper, but I have a splitting headache. Would you mind taking me home?"

"No, of course I don't mind," Pat said. "Do you need to stop by the drugstore and pick up some medicine or anything?"

"No, I'll take some aspirin when I get home and go straight to bed."

"Now that sounds like a good idea to me," Gwyn said just as Caleb joined them. "Pat, you take Sheila straight home to bed." Gwyn giggled. "And I'll take our hometown superstar home to bed with me."

"Good night." Sheila didn't even glance at Caleb when she took Pat's arm and walked away with him.

Caleb watched until they exited the building, then looked at Gwyn, who had apparently drank another beer while he'd danced with Sheila. He jerked back her chair and lifted her to her feet.

"Come on. I'll take you home while you can still stand."

She wrapped herself around him. "Looks like everybody's gonna have fun tonight."