Love, Lies and High Heels (9 page)

That brought a smile to his face. “That sounds good to me. Do you play poker?”

“Poker? No, I’m afraid not. But, I do know how to play bridge.”

He scowled. “Bridge? What kind of sissy game is that?”

She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “On second thought, I’ve always wanted to learn to play poker,” she lied. “Is it terribly hard to learn?”

“Nah, it’s easy. Do you have any money?”

“Money? Sure, I—” She thought about her credit cards, which was what she used most of the time.

“Never mind. I’ll spot you some,” he said, opening his nightstand drawer. He pulled out his wallet and pushed several bills at her. He shuffled the cards, using some fancy techniques that impressed her, and showed her a game called five card stud.

It was confusing at first, trying to remember which cards were wild and which was greater—a full house or four of a kind. After a few hands, though, she’d finally gotten the hang of it and had even managed to win some of her money back.

“That’s my girl,” Sam said proudly. “You’re a natural at this. Just like your old man.”

Rusty smiled, appreciating his compliment. She wanted to please him. To comfort him at his time of need. At that moment she would have done anything he’d asked of her. “Sam, what can I do to make you happy? Tell me, please. If there was one thing you wanted in the whole world, what would it be?” She had more than enough money for one lifetime. She could buy Sam a prize stallion, or take him on a cruise around the world.

Sam scrunched his eyebrows together. “Well, there is one thing.”

She let her breath out. “What is it? Anything, just name it.”

“I’d give anything to have a grandchild.”

Rusty dropped her cards on the floor. Three aces and two kings.

RUSTY WASN’T A CRYER. Well, not normally anyway. But for some reason, she couldn’t stop. She blotted her tears with a green checkered dish towel, then laid her head back down on the kitchen table and cried some more.

Most of her tears were for Sam, but some of them were for herself. Sam was the only family she had left in this world, and he’d soon be … gone. She lifted her head and swabbed at more tears.

The man only had one wish, and she couldn’t grant it. The tears welled up again. When he’d told her he wanted a grandchild, she’d stared at him in horror, as if he’d struck her. Then she’d made some flimsy excuse about needing to make an important call and she’d ducked out of the room.

But how could she tell him no? And not just no, but no way in hell! She couldn’t have a child. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She supposed she had all the necessary body parts to have a child, but she wasn’t planning on using those parts. Not even to please her dying father.

She sobbed again. What kind of selfish woman was she? The man had made a simple request—well, not exactly simple—but a single request, she amended, and she refused to honor it.

But she couldn’t have a child. A child deserved two loving parents. A mother and a father who wanted a child, and who planned to love that child and keep him or her by their sides. Loving parents who wouldn’t abandon their son or daughter in boarding schools, or anywhere else.

Rusty also believed the child’s parents should be married. Again, something else she couldn’t do. Just thinking about marriage made her tremble. Natalie was to blame for that. But how could she explain it all to Sam? And would he understand her fears? Probably not. The man was dying. Didn’t he deserve a last wish?

She felt a cold rush of air as the back door opened. Galloway was back. Quickly, she swiped at her tears, keeping her back to him. She heard toenails clicking on the hardwood floor and spun around. Galloway had let that beast back inside. Jack sidled over to her, placed his large, furry head in her lap and let out a whimper. Rusty looked down at him in horror.

She sat perfectly still, not quite sure how to react. “Go away, you,” she whispered. But the dog didn’t move. Instead, he whined again, like he was hurt, and lifted his large, black, sad-looking eyes to stare up at her. “What do you want? Go away. Go on. Scat.”

“He’s not used to seeing women cry,” Galloway said. “He just wants to offer his sympathies. It wouldn’t hurt you to make friends with him.”

After Galloway stomped the snow from his boots, he shut the door behind him. Crossing the room, he set several blue plastic bags down on the kitchen table, shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over a chair.

Rusty continued to watch the dog from the corner of her eye as she brushed more tears away, although Galloway already knew she’d been crying. Still, it embarrassed her to cry in front of him. And she was determined not to.

Jack whimpered again and snuggled closer. She’d never been around dogs, and she wasn’t sure how to behave with them. Sam had told her Jack was friendly and gentle. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to make friends with the beast yet. Not after the way he’d stuck his nose where it didn’t belong yesterday afternoon. Since then, she’d treaded carefully around the house, keeping her hands where the dog couldn’t bother her again.

She pasted a smile on her lips and said, “Good dog. Now, go away, please.” The beast still ignored her. Finally, she looked up at Galloway for help.

At the snap of Galloway’s fingers, the dog lifted its head and went to lie on the throw rug at the back door. “Stay,” he commanded. And the dog stayed.

Rusty brushed the dog hair from her lap, pushed her chair back and stood.

“Rusty,” Galloway said. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I’m sorry I made you cry. I was being an ass.”

Blinking her damp eyes, she looked up at him. “I won’t argue with you. Yes, you were. But I wasn’t crying because of you. I wouldn’t waste my tears.”

Scowling at her, he asked, “Then, why were you crying?”

She straightened her shoulders. “You seem to take Sam’s illness very lightly. The man took you in and gave you half of everything he owned, and yet you don’t seem to give a damn about him. He said you were like a son to him. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Her eyes filled with tears again, and she couldn’t stop them.

Damn, he hated to see women cry. And where did she get off accusing him of not caring about Sam? Of course, he cared. But the man wasn’t dying. He was just playing a selfish game. A game that was starting to annoy Luke.

“It means everything to me,” Luke said. “Sam means everything to me. Even if he is a meddlesome old coot at times. I never knew my father. And my mother … well, let’s just say we weren’t close, and leave it at that. I have no idea where she’s living, or if she’s still alive. Sam is my family. My only family.”

Rusty’s sobs came quickly. And when she opened her mouth to speak, she practically choked. Luke pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

“Hey,” he murmured against her ear. “Don’t cry. Sam doesn’t want your pity or your tears. And neither do I.”

“I … I can’t help myself,” she stuttered. “I’ve just now found him again, and I’m going to lose him soon.” Her whole body shook.

She felt good in his arms. Soft and pliant against his hard body. “We don’t know that for sure,” he said. “The doctors could be wrong. What do they know? Sam could outlive you and me.”

She wiped her cheek against his shirt and peeked up at his face. “Really? Do you think we should get another opinion?”

Luke traced his finger along her cheek, brushing a tear away. “Well, I … Sure, if it will make you happy. But let’s not rush into anything.”

She placed her palms against his chest, and pushed away. “Why not? We have to try to do something. I’m going to call Dr. Besner and tell him we want a second opinion immediately.”

He raised his brows. “How do you know Dr. Besner?”

“I don’t. But his name was on the pain killer he prescribed for Sam.”

“Why don’t you let me call Bill? He might take the news better coming from me.” Especially when the man had no idea his healthy patient was now suddenly dying.

“Okay.”

He thought she’d calmed down, when she suddenly burst into tears again. “What is it now?”

“He wants a grandchild,” she blurted out. “It’s his last wish.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “That bastard. He’s going to wish he were dead when I get through with him.” He clenched his fists tightly, imagining one of them smashing Sam’s nose into his face.

Rusty stared at him in horror. “What an evil thing to say!”

He paced the kitchen floor. “Yeah, that’s because you don’t know him the way I do. He’s manipulative. And crazy.”

“He is not crazy. He just wants to hold his grandchild before he . . .”

Jesus. What the hell was Sam trying to prove? Luke advanced on her. “So, what are you going to do, Rusty? Get yourself knocked up?”

When she didn’t deny his accusation, he snorted in disgust and pointed a finger at her. “And if you do decide to do something that stupid, don’t get any ideas about involving me. I don’t want any part of Sam’s little game.”

She took a step backward. “I wouldn’t dream of it. If I actually wanted to have a child, which I don’t, I think I could find someone more suited for fatherhood than you. Maybe someone without a criminal record.”

He’d heard a similar comment once before. Sneering at her, he said, “Yeah, maybe someone like that two-timing race car driver you were involved with. He looked like he’d make a nice daddy.”

“Leave Burke out of this.” This time, it was she who paced the floor. “And for the record, I was never involved with him. Not like you’re thinking, anyway.”

Luke took a seat and buried his head in his hands. Sam wanted a grandchild. He should have known that was what this whole fiasco had been about. He’d dropped enough hints in the past few months. Luke had thought Sam had just been trying to get him to settle down, get married and start a family. It hadn’t crossed his mind that it was Rusty’s child he wanted crawling around at the farm. The night before when he’d accused Sam of trying to get him and Rusty together, he’d been half joking. He hadn’t really thought the man was serious.

“How do you feel about children?” Rusty said softly, coming to stand across the table from him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you want them?”

Luke raised his head to look up at her. “Yeah. Someday,” he added quickly, not knowing what she was getting at.

“You know, Sam said you were like a son to him.”

“So?”

“So, it shouldn’t matter much to him if I gave him a grandchild, or you.”

Slowly, he scraped the chair back and got to his feet. “Listen, and listen good. I don’t give a damn what Sam wants. I’m not in the habit of impregnating women, just to please that old coot.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest that you go out and sleep with just anyone. I thought maybe you might be involved with someone.” She tossed the word back at him.

Before Luke got a chance to speak, there was a knock at the door.

Luke gave Rusty a sharp look, before turning his back on her and walking away. “Hi, Becky,” he said, swinging the door open.

Jack stood to greet the woman, wagging his bushy tail in earnest. Before Luke could introduce Becky, Rusty yelled, “Watch your privates!”

The woman stepped into the kitchen, unbuttoned her coat and smiled at Rusty. “Don’t worry about me. Jack and I have an understanding. Don’t we, boy?” Fishing into her coat pocket, she tossed a dog biscuit into the air. Jack dove for it and crunched it up in two bites. Looking at Rusty, the woman said, “Hi, I’m Becky Meyers.”

Rusty offered her hand. “Hello, I’m Rusty Paris.”

Luke immediately went to a cupboard and pulled out a mug. “Coffee, Beck?”

“What do you think?” she answered, laughing. She shimmied out of her gray wool pea jacket and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair, the way Luke had moments ago. Then, pulling out that same chair, she made her herself at home.

Becky looked to be in her mid forties, had dark hair—with a few grays mixed in—pulled back in a sleek ponytail—amber gold eyes, and wore very little make-up. She looked about Rusty’s height and probably weighed ten pounds more than she. She was dressed in jeans, boots and a red turtleneck sweater.

Luke set the steaming mug on the table. “Let me get this stuff out of your way,” he said, moving the blue bags to the counter. “Jeremy at the stable?”

“Yes. He couldn’t wait to see Stardust. She should foal in about two weeks.”

Luke busied himself emptying the grocery bags, and stocking the cupboards while he talked to Becky about the horses, especially Stardust, the pregnant mare. Becky seemed to know an awful lot about the animals on the farm.

Rusty noticed the easy way the two of them spoke, laughed, and moved. Obviously, they were close. She wondered how close, and if they were lovers.

Of course, they were lovers. Why else would a woman show up at a man’s home on a Saturday morning, and act as if she were right at home?

So, Luke was involved with someone. And she seemed pleasant, intelligent, and she was pretty. Women in their forties were having babies all the time now. Rusty tried to picture what Becky and Luke’s child would look like.

Suddenly, she felt dizzy and grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. She didn’t know why, but she was jealous. Just last night, Luke Galloway had kissed her senseless, and now here she was meeting his lover, and imagining the two of them having a baby together. She needed a shrink.

“Rusty, are you okay?” Luke asked. Genuine concern etched his brow.

Recovering quickly, she said, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sure you two want to be alone. And I have some things to do. It was nice meeting you, Becky.”

Just as she started to turn around, Luke caught her by the arm. “Sit down. I’ll make you some tea. I got you some of that herbal stuff you wanted.”

“Thank you, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“Sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair, and pushing her into it. She noticed Becky and Luke exchange a look. To Becky, he said, “Rusty’s been a little under the weather since … last night.”

At the words “last night” Rusty felt her face color with embarrassment. She avoided Luke’s eyes, even though she knew he was staring at her.

“Well, I hope it’s nothing more than jet lag,” Becky said and gave Rusty’s hand a quick pat. She lifted her mug to her lips and drank.