About That Man

His concession to stay in Trinity Harbor through the weekend was a blessing for Tommy, but it was going to be tough on her. In one single gesture, Walker had reminded her that she was a woman, that she had needs and desires that had been ignored for far too long. He’d be lucky if she didn’t drag him off somewhere and try to ravish him.

She blushed at the thought. What had come over her? She never thought like that, much less behaved in such a wanton manner. Not once in all of her thirty years had she felt such an intense need to have a man’s tongue intimately invade her mouth, to have his hands on her breasts or to feel his body inside hers. Not even Billy had aroused this kind of desperate yearning. Their lovemaking had been sweetly satisfying, but she’d never seen stars, never felt as if the earth were tumbling out from under her feet the way she had tonight. These days, on those rare occasions when she passed Billy on the street, she felt nothing at all. Yet even now, she couldn’t imagine a time when the sight of Walker might not affect her.

Which just proved that it was way past time for her body to wake up and come alive again. Once again she tried to reassure herself that the physical response was just that–physical. It did not have anything whatsoever to do with Walker Ames specifically.

She needed to keep reminding herself that his decision to stay simply gave her three more days with Tommy, three more days to convince everyone that he was better off with her in Trinity Harbor than he would be in a city like Washington.

Her father, who had more prejudices than Daisy would ordinarily condone, had it just right when it came to the nation’s capital. The city’s level of crime was a disgrace. It was no place to raise a small boy. Surely a man who dealt with that crime every day of his life would be able to see that. She just had to sit down and reason with him.

Unfortunately, she had discovered tonight that Walker Ames had the ability to rob her of the power to speak coherently, much less forcefully. He knew it, too, more’s the pity.

But Daisy hadn’t been raised by a man like King Spencer without learning a little about ignoring her fears to get the job done. If Walker Ames thought he could use his masculinity to fluster her, then she could just as easily use a few feminine wiles to turn the tables on him. The more she considered the prospect, the more anxious she was to see him in the morning and put her plan into action.

In the meantime, it might be wise to say a little prayer that she wasn’t deliberately throwing herself to the wolves…or to one wolf in particular.

6

W alker had a lot of excess tension to work off. He woke up at dawn after a restless night on a hard hotel mattress, feeling every one of his thirty-five years. His shoulders ached. His knees were stiff, the result of too many years of hard physical activity from football in high school to the jogging he now did daily to keep in shape.

More troublesome than the aches and pains were the mental cobwebs. As if dealing with his first face-to-face meeting with Tommy weren’t stressful enough, there was Daisy Spencer and her far too tempting mouth to consider. She’d played a prominent role in his dreams. No wonder he’d awakened thoroughly aroused and totally exasperated with himself.

The last thing he needed in his life was a woman who looked at him with moist lips half-parted by unmistakable lust and eyes shining with innocence and vulnerability. There was a contradiction there that he didn’t want to get mixed up in. No way.

He hadn’t wanted to belabor the discussion of the kiss they’d shared because he’d been very much afraid he’d be tempted to kiss her again just to shut her up. She had that exasperating effect on him, an effect no woman had had for a very long time.

Bottom line, he needed to get her out of his system before he saw her this morning and did something that would only add to the regrets he already had. A good workout ought to accomplish that. Luckily he kept his gym bag in the trunk of the car. He changed into shorts and a sweatshirt, tugged on his running shoes and hit the road.

For the first few blocks, he was barely aware of his surroundings beyond the lack of traffic and the faint tang of salt in the air. His concentration was totally focused on getting into his rhythm, getting his breathing to match his relaxed, easy strides in a way that would bring the optimum results.

Eventually he began to take note of the tidy lawns with their picket fences and abundant splashes of spring flowers, the wide porches and old-fashioned swings, the cheerful flags that adorned most houses. The few people who were outside at this hour glanced up at him and waved, their friendly smiles a stark contrast to the hostile suspicion he was used to receiving back home.

Only after he’d turned a corner and set off along the wide, tree-lined street bordering the river did he realize that he no longer had the pleasantly cool morning to himself. He heard the slap of other sneakers on the pavement, the ragged breathing of a beginning runner and the steadier sounds of someone more experienced. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted a couple half a block behind. The woman waved, then nearly stumbled. The man caught her arm.

“Are you okay?” the man asked, gazing worriedly at her flushed face. “It’s only your second week. I can slow down.”

“No, no,” she said between gasps. “I can keep up.”

The man grinned at Walker, who jogged in place waiting for them.

“Stubborn as a mule,” the man observed when they were closer.

Walker winked at her, then admonished the man, “Hey, give her credit for trying.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” she said, bent over at the waist as she tried to catch her breath. When she could finally speak without gasping, she added, “I think he’s just afraid I’ll collapse in a heap and he’ll have to carry me all the way home.” She held out her hand. “I’m Anna-Louise Walton, by the way. And you’re Walker Ames.” She chuckled at his surprise. “It’s a small town. I’ve gotten a full description from half the people in Trinity Harbor. Your arrival was big news.”

He regarded her with bemusement. “Why?”

It was the man who spoke up. “Speaking as a journalist, I can say it’s because the story has all the makings of a real tearjerker. Long-lost uncle comes to claim his orphaned nephew, pitting himself against the daughter of the town’s leading citizen.” He grinned. “By the way, I’m Richard Walton. I own the paper here. Anna-Louise is my wife, and before you mutter that curse that’s obviously on your lips, you should know she’s a minister.”

For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, Walker was shocked into silence by a woman in this town. Obviously the females in Trinity Harbor were a breed apart.

“Don’t worry,” Anna-Louise said to cover his apparent discomfort. “People say whatever they want in front of me. If I feel the need, I’ll pray for your soul later.”

“Good to know,” Walker said.

“So, how did it go yesterday with Tommy?” she asked. “And with Daisy?”

He wasn’t going to touch the topic of Daisy with this woman or anybody else. As for Tommy, he wasn’t sure what to say. “I wish I knew,” he said eventually. “Tommy has a lot of understandable resentment where I’m concerned.”

Anna-Louise nodded sympathetically. “Look, since I’m obviously winded and pathetically out of shape anyway, why don’t we go get some coffee? Maybe I can help.”

“Or we could just leave the man alone and let him handle his own life,” Richard countered, regarding his wife with amused tolerance. “Anna-Louise likes to meddle.”

“It’s not meddling. It’s my job,” she chided.

“Only when a member of your congregation actually asks for help,” Richard reminded her. “Walker’s barely been in town for a full day, he’s never set foot in your church and I haven’t heard him ask for any advice.”

She laughed. “Okay, so sometimes I anticipate a need before it’s expressed. Sue me.” She regarded Walker hopefully. “How about that coffee?”

Because he was willing to listen to advice from any quarter, Walker nodded. “Lead the way.”

“Earlene’s is the only place open for breakfast,” she said. “The coffee is strong and the country ham and eggs are worth trying if you don’t give a hang about your cholesterol. At this time of the morning we should have a shot at getting a booth. The regulars don’t start coming in for another half hour or so, and Fridays don’t bring out the tourists this time of the year. Tomorrow’s another story.” She turned to her husband. “Coming with us?”

“Nope. I might be too tempted to put something you say in confidence on the front page of next week’s paper.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to a word he says,” she told Walker. “Richard is the most ethical man I know. He just wants to gloat later that he finished his run and I pooped out.”

Richard leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, then grinned. “That too,” he said. “Nice meeting you, Walker. If you stick around, maybe we can get together and talk about D.C. I used to work there myself.”

“Really?”

“Well, for the paper, anyway. I was a foreign correspondent, so I never spent all that much time in Washington, but I certainly kept up with the politics.”

Walker nodded as recognition dawned. “You’re that Richard Walton. You wrote some damn fine pieces from some pretty awful war zones. Won quite a few awards, too, as I recall. I thought your byline had been missing for a while now.”

“Fours years. I took a leave of absence when my grandmother got sick. Then Anna-Louise and I got married and I bought the paper in my hometown. When she got the transfer here, I bought this one and brought an old buddy in as editor of the one over there.”

“Now he’s a media mogul,” Anna-Louise teased.

“Two weeklies do not an empire make,” Richard retorted. “Besides, I like it here.” He gave his wife another kiss. “Don’t lose this job. I don’t want another paper to worry about.”

She laughed. “I didn’t lose the last job. I just got an irresistible offer. King Spencer can be very persuasive.”

“So I’ve heard,” Walker said.

“Oh, good, then we can talk about him, too,” she said. “See you later, honey.”

“Should I be bothered by the fact that you’re suddenly so eager to be rid of me and spend time with another man?” Richard teased. “Is the honeymoon finally over?”