Sultry

Red hot anger surged through Lindsay. She wasn’t fooled. She knew what was going on inside his head. Cooper saw her rebellion as a whim. He thought if he was simply indulgent and patted her on the head, she would come around to his way of thinking.

“Go on,” he said into the silence, putting down the newspaper. “I’m listening.”

Lindsay unclenched her fingers. “I had been thinking about this before your accident, only I hadn’t acted on it. Now I want to.”

“What are you talking about, Lindsay?”

His impatience was obvious, but she overlooked it and went on. “You know how much I’ve enjoyed the benefits I’ve reaped from working with the women’s shelter.”

“Yes, though I can’t for the life of me see why. It would certainly not be my choice for you.”

This was going to be harder than she’d figured. His mind was already closed. But she wasn’t about to turn back now. Besides, she didn’t really need his approval; she just wanted it.

“Anyhow, there are some women at the shelter with children who could and would do better if they had any kind of help at all.”

“You mean other than what the shelter provides?”

Although Cooper’s tone sounded almost terse, at least he was listening. “That’s exactly what I mean. As you know, the shelter’s only temporary—a stopgap measure, if you will.”

“So I can assume you’re about to suggest something more permanent, right?”

Dismissing his patronizing and less-than-serious attitude, she forged on. “As a matter of fact, I am. I’m envisioning a place where those special families can live, go to school and access child care—all at no cost to them.”

Cooper laughed, though without humor. “Surely you aren’t serious?”

“I’m as serious as I’ve ever been about anything.”

“Place? What kind of place, for God’s sake?”

“A campus of sorts. Different buildings for different needs. Apartment-style complexes, a free-standing day-care center—” Lindsay broke off, her eyebrows coming together in a frown. “At this point, I’m not really sure. It’s still sketchy in my mind.”

“In my mind, it’s preposterous,” Cooper sputtered, color surging into his face.

Lindsay knew he was getting angry, but she didn’t care—as long as that anger didn’t harm him. She’d gone this far, and she wasn’t pulling back now, even though it would have been easier just to give in.

“The primary aim of this venture or program or whatever you want to call it would be to get these young parents out of the welfare system and help them become contributing members of society.”

“While that all sounds good, I don’t see it working.”

“Why not?” Lindsay demanded.

“Because it’s never worked before.”

“No one’s ever tried what I’m proposing before.”

“My point. That’s because it won’t work.”

Lindsay’s eyes sparked. “I disagree. I think it will work and work well.”

“So call our congressman and tell him,” Cooper said in an offhand manner. “Let him pursue it.”

“I don’t want to call our congressman,” Lindsay said, her voice tight but even. “I want to spearhead it myself.”

Cooper lunged to his feet. “That’s the craziest notion I’ve ever heard.”

“It may be crazy, but it’s not impossible.”

“Just say I thought it was a good idea—which I don’t—” Cooper added quickly “how the hell do you propose to pull it off?”

“With lots of money and lots of time.”

“Your money and your time, right?”

Lindsay didn’t so much as blink under the harsh glare of his criticism and censure. “That and grants. There’s all kinds of money out there. You just have to know where to find it, then how to get it.”

“And I suppose you do?”

She ignored the mocking edge in his voice and said, “Of course not. I don’t have all the answers yet, but it’s something I really want to try. Something that will give my life direction.”

“That’s baloney. Your life has direction. When you and Peter marry—”

“Don’t, Daddy. Peter’s off-limits.”

“As far as I’m concerned, this poppycock idea is what’s off-limits.”

“I thought you might even be willing to donate some of the money,” Lindsay said in a dull tone.

“Like hell!” Cooper raged. “I don’t want you that involved with those kinds of people, you hear?”

Lindsay blanched, mortified at his choice of words. “‘Those kinds of people’?”

“Yes,” he hammered on. “You’re a Newman. You’re meant for bigger and better things.”

“Like what?” she asked fiercely, fighting off her disappointment and forcing back the tears. She’d had such high hopes that for once he would see things her way, support her in just one thing she wanted to do. She should have known better, she told herself, bitterness coursing through her like poison.

“Like marrying Peter and making a home for him,” Cooper said into the reigning silence, his tone grim.

Lindsay’s chin jutted. She was determined not to waver from her game plan. She refused to be lured into another blazing gunfight about Peter. Besides, when Cooper got on his high horse, like now, there was no reasoning with him.

“And acting as my hostess,” he went on. “Something that is damn important to me. Which reminds me, now that I’m feeling like my old self again, I want to have a dinner party. Not a large one, but a party, nonetheless.” His eyebrows shot up. “Need I say more?”

No, but she was about to. “Why haven’t you remarried, Daddy?”

Lindsay knew she’d shocked him again, but that was okay. That question was one she had wanted to ask for a long time but hadn’t had the courage to. Now it just slipped out, and somehow it seemed to fit the natural order of things. Cooper loved to entertain, and he loved women. In her mind, the two were closely linked.

“I intend never to remarry,” he said coldly.

“Do you think that’s what Mother would’ve wanted?” Lindsay asked, fishing for something that even she couldn’t identify. She blamed Tim. He had scraped the scab on an old wound that had never healed. Now it was festering again.