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“What?” Helen asked with a smirk. “Knit me a really ugly sweater?” She laughed, then winced, but quickly regained her smile. “To be honest, it won’t be necessary for either of us to lift a finger. Your fate is sealed.”
Lucy’s brows knit further and she stared pointedly at Damien. “The subject ends here, right?”
He winked. “I always said Jack was a damn lucky man. I just didn’t know how lucky.”
Lucy’s lips parted in stunned disbelief. “You two are crazy.”
“We are cute, aren’t we?” Helen snuggled against her husband. “And we’re happy for you, Lucy.”
She drew a deep breath and forbade herself to tremble. “Get some sleep, both of you. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“You’re cute when you’re in denial,” Helen said, waving goodbye. “Now go away. Damien has some serious kissing to do.”
His low chuckle mingled with his wife’s laughter, chasing Lucy from the room. As she scurried along the hallway toward the parking lot, she vowed that Jack would never get wind of what had been predicted today. Jack Gallagher felt indebted to their father for helping turn his life around, and because of that deep affection and appreciation, he cared for all three of the Crosby daughters—equally.
She would never allow him to be embarrassed by such a crazy notion!
Since Old Man Winter had decided to revisit Branson, Jack lit a fire in the inn’s parlor. Luckily, March was not one of the busiest tourist months in the bustling Missouri town referred to as the “Las Vegas of the Ozarks,” so there was a vacant room for Jack.
Lucy had taken a long nap and a relaxing bath that afternoon, so she felt more human as she sat on the white muslin sofa, toying with the fringe of one of the colorful throw pillows. Covertly, she watched Jack as he and Elissa played gin on the Oriental rug before the fire.
Elissa slapped his hand as he picked up a card she’d just thrown on the discard pile. “That’s the third card of mine you’ve taken!”
He slipped it into his fan of cards. “Can I help it if you don’t know a good card when you see one?”
“You’d better take care,” Elissa warned him, drawing another card. She frowned at it, scanned Jack with narrowed, suspicious eyes, then slapped it onto the discard pile. He plucked it up, and this time, Elissa dropped her cards and grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Oh, no! Oh, no! There’s a rule that you can’t take more than three discards in a row.”
“Show me in the rule book.” He laughed as she yanked on the playing card.
“Don’t you trust me?” she squealed.
“Not a chance.”
The card was now bent and twisted, but Jack didn’t release it, only chuckled at Elissa’s futile struggles as he placed it with his other cards.
“If you gin, I’ll kill you.”
“Gin,” he said without missing a beat, his grin so delightfully devilish it stole Lucy’s breath.
With a wild groan, Elissa yanked his cards from his fingers and tossed them into the air. “I will not play with a cheater!”
Lucy found herself joining the laugher. She reached out and caught a card as it fluttered down. “Jack, when will you learn that Elissa hates to lose?”
He glanced up at her. The firelight did clever things to his hair, giving him a bronze halo. His teeth seemed excessively white as he grinned her way. “Then you play with me. My health insurance rates will go down.”
“Oh, you...” Elissa leaned over and tweaked his cleft chin. “You’re the only man on earth I can’t beat at gin and I hate that about you. It’s an unforgivable flaw in your character.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That makes two unforgivable flaws. Lucy says I don’t have a clue where babies come from.”
“Really?” Elissa passed a dubious glance toward Lucy. “Do you suppose that supermodel who stalked him for six months thought that, too?”
“She didn’t stalk me,” Jack cut in, amusement in his voice. “She just followed me around and hid in my grounds from time to time.”
Elissa stood. “Well, excuse me. I’m insane for suggesting she stalked you. After all, stalking is when somebody follows you around and hides in your grounds. My mistake.”
“Okay, okay. But she’s safely back in France now,” he said. “Getting treatment.”
Elissa smiled playfully. “What was it she couldn’t resist about you, Jack dear? Your gin game?”
Lucy’s cheeks grew hot. “I was kidding when I said that, Elissa. I’m sure Jack is well aware of sexual—stuff.”
Elissa laughed. “Lucy, Jack knew stuff even before his mother married Dad and they moved in with us.” She gave him a superior smirk. “I should know because my room was right below his. I saw his girlfriends climbing up the trellis to his room.”
Jack’s expression grew sheepish, captivatingly so. “Hell. You knew?”
“No!” Lucy cried. “I don’t believe it. I never saw any girls. And I ran in and jumped right into Jack’s bed during thunderstorms.”
“During thunderstorms the windows were closed,” Elissa reminded her with a laugh.
The fire popped and hissed, and Jack turned away to took into the flames. Lucy had a feeling he was embarrassed about this discussion of his wild youth.
“On those infrequent nights when his window was closed, it kept out the rain and half the pubescent females in Kansas City.” Elissa crossed her arms before her, eyeing Lucy as though she were a touch feeble-witted. “And you said he didn’t know where babies came from. Just another example that you’re not a good judge of men.”
The remark was like a punch in her heart, and Lucy grimaced.
Suddenly, Elissa was standing before her, holding her face. “Gosh, I’m sorry. That wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—I was trying to be funny.” She let out a disgusted breath and eyed the ceiling. “I’m just so furious at Stadler. That’s all. Can you forgive me?”
Lucy swallowed to ease the lump of emotion that had formed in her throat, then nodded. “Sure—sure...”
“Hey.” Elissa inhaled, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “How about some tea? Since you won’t let us celebrate your birthday until Helen and the twins are home, we might as well have a cup of English Apple to commemorate year number twenty-six. What do you say?”
Lucy nodded. “Sounds good.” She managed to smile and even make direct eye contact with her sister, who looked so upset by her slip of the tongue that Lucy couldn’t be angry with her.
“Want some help?” Jack asked.
“No.” Elissa faced him, thumping her fists on her hips. “Cardsharps must clean up the mess.”
“I presume that’s straight out of ‘Elissa’s Gin Rule Book for Sleazoids Who Beat Her’?”
“Chapter one.” She lifted her chin in haughty affront. “Sleazoid.”
After Elissa. left the room, Lucy discovered that Jack was silently watching her. He bent one knee, curling an arm around it. “Would you like to play with me?”
She felt a strange tremor along her spine and shook it off. Helen’s prediction that afternoon had left its lingering effect, and Jack’s innocent question seemed erotic. Shaking her head, she sat farther back in the fluffy couch, clutching the pillow she’d been toying with to her breasts. “Oh—no, I’m not very good at gin.”
“Neither is Elissa.” His grin was so appealing she found herself smiling back. “You tell her I said that and you’re toast.”
She nodded. “I know.”
They watched each other for another minute before Jack tilted his head in a way that told her he was there to listen if she wanted to talk. It was bizarre how he could communicate so much without a word. No doubt it was because she knew him so well.
She shook her head. “I don’t think you can help me with this, Jack.”
“I could try.”
Uncomfortable under his close scrutiny, she cleared her throat. “Just be my friend. Okay?”
Pursing his lips, he nodded. “Right.”
He began to pick up the cards and she scanned him as he moved. Watched the energy of his actions, his economy of motion. The clothes he wore were simple, but rich. His beige trousers emphasized hard thighs and taut hips. His shirt was an emerald green knit, and as he moved, muscle rippled, making a tantalizing show of shoulders and arms. She lounged her head back, casually gazing, almost feasting. It was surprising how the simple act of gathering a few cast-off playing cards could be such eye candy.
His knuckle scraped against her ankle as he retrieved the last fallen card, and she yelped, not aware that she’d slipped into a daydream.
“Sorry.” He came up beside her and sat on the couch to shuffle the cards. The broken one flipped out of the pack and landed in her lap. She gasped and flinched. “Aren’t we a little jumpy tonight?” As he picked up the playing card, his fingers grazed her inner thigh through her trousers. Her body registered his brief touch with a queer tingling. “You seem nervous, Luce.”
Restive, she tossed aside the pillow she’d been clutching, then thought better of it, squeezing it against her breasts as some sort of blue damask barrier. “No—no, I’m not nervous,” she lied, then wondered why in the world she was. She and Jack were about as close as any man and woman could be who weren’t really brother and sister. She avoided his scrutinizing gaze, focusing on his chin, deeply cleft and tan. Casting around for a safe topic, she asked, “Why are you in town, Jack?”
“I thought Elissa told you. I’m thinking of opening my fifth Gallagher’s Bistro here in Branson.” She met his eyes, not realizing she’d done so until his half-mast glance was sparkling into hers. “I figured what’s good enough for New York City, Chicago, L.A. and London is good enough for the Crosby girls.”
She smiled against her will. Suddenly shy, she scanned her lap to avoid his intense eyes. “Speaking on behalf of all the Crosby girls—I thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” His hard thigh brushed hers as he relaxed back. “Nice fire.”
“Bragging?” She was surprised to find herself ribbing him for a change.
He chuckled. “I’m almost as good at fire building as I am at playing gin.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Sort of a Jack-of-all-trades.”
She groaned. “That pun never gets any better.”
He shrugged and she felt it. He was sitting very close. Which was fine. She had nothing to fear from him. Just because Helen said she and Jack were going to be married didn’t mean Jack had amorous intentions toward her. And that was absolutely for the best, since the last thing on her mind was romance.
“Tired?”
“No.” She shook her head, leaning against his shoulder. It was true. She wasn’t tired, just downhearted, lost, emotionally adrift. Sleep seemed like the best escape, and her body was willing to oblige.
“Elissa’s fixing your birthday tea.”
“I’m awake.”
He shifted to put his arm around her. “Sure you are, Luce.”
She didn’t know how long she napped in Jack’s embrace before the doorbell woke her.
“I’ll get it,” Elissa said.
“Just in time,” Jack murmured against her hair. “You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”
“No...um—no—I’m wide...” She pushed away from him, her denial thick and slurred. When she straightened and looked around, she noticed a silver tea tray sitting on the coffee table.
He laughed softly. “You’re not that wide.”
She peered at him, fuzzy-headed. “What?”
His grin crooked, he started to say something, but Elissa interrupted. “Lucy, a telegram for you.” She shifted toward the parlor entrance as Elissa breezed in, waving the yellow paper. Disquiet marred her lovely features. “Maybe Stadler’s had a change of heart and has decided to crawl back.”
Lucy took the telegram and tore it open. “You don’t have to be so unhappy about the idea.”
Elissa sat down in the leather chair beside the couch, worriedly eyeing her sister. “Well, before this English Apple turns to ice, I guess I’ll go ahead and pour.” She picked up a cup and the pot.
Lucy scanned the message, unable to believe her eyes. She had just read it a second time when a keening cry tore through the quiet and she felt faint. Somewhere, she heard the sound of a teacup breaking and splintering into pieces.
“Lucy!” Powerful male arms came around her, keeping her from slipping to the floor. “You screamed. What’s happened?”
CHAPTER TWO
LUCY was dismayed with herself. She’d never fainted in her life. But this news was so awful. A shiver ran through her, bringing her fully back to consciousness.
When she realized Jack held her in his arms and was laying her on the couch, she let out a moan of embarrassment and pushed at his chest. “Oh—oh, I’m okay. Don’t—don’t...”
“Shush,” he admonished. “You’re as white as a ghost.”
“Oh, Lord!” Elissa cried. From her angry tone, Lucy knew her sister was reading the telegram that had tumbled to the floor. “That pig! That putrefying slab of pork! He’s coming here!”
Jack’s worried glance lifted to Elissa although he didn’t rise. With one hand on Lucy’s shoulder, he remained kneeling beside her. “Who’s coming here?”
Even in the dim light, Elissa’s green eyes were blazing, her expression murderous. With an angry flourish, she thrust the telegram at Jack. “You read it. I’m afraid some more unattractive words will slip out of my mouth if I explain.”
Jack looked confused as he took the telegram. With shaky fingers, Lucy reached for it. “Don’t...” He evaded her attempt to snatch it from him. She groaned, covering her face with unsteady hands. She had to leave town immediately. But where could she go? They didn’t have relatives anywhere. That didn’t matter. She couldn’t stay. Not now.
There was absolute quiet in the room for such a long time she had to peek through her fingers to see what was going on. The world was blurry and she blinked, focusing on Jack as he stared at the telegram, his expression grim. When his glance caught Lucy’s, something raw and violent flashed in his eyes. “Who does this piece of crap think he is?”
Lowering his glance to the page again, he gritted out the written words.
“‘Dearest Lucy,
I know my letter must have come as a shock, and I apologize. After thinking about it, I know it is my duty to see you face-to-face and smooth things over.
“‘By the time you receive this, my fiancée and I will be winging our way to Branson, arriving on March 20. The first day of spring. Appropriate for my mission, for I’ve decided we must begin again. As great chums.
“‘You must meet my fiancée. You are both lovely, compliant women, and you will become fast friends. I know from your gentle temperament that you will agree that life is too short to harbor hard feelings between two people so sublimely simpatico as we two.
Yours forever,
Stadler”’
Jack made a guttural sound that sounded suspiciously like a curse. “That egotistical jackass.” When he lifted his gaze to Lucy’s face, his cinnamon eyes held a blaze that had nothing to do with the fire in the hearth. “I’ll show him a brand of simpatico he won’t find quite so sublime.”
Lucy touched his arm. She appreciated his anger on her behalf, but shook her head. “You mustn’t get involved, Jack.” She struggled up on her elbows. “Besides, I don’t plan to be here when he arrives.”
“What?” Elissa bent over her sister. “Where are you going?”
Lucy ran a trembly hand through her hair. “I don’t know. But I can’t be here. I couldn’t face him and—and his new fiancée. Surely you understand that.”
Elissa straightened to her full five foot seven, looking offended. “I understand nothing of the kind.” Plopping her fists on slender hips, she glowered at her sister. “You’re going to meet him at the door with a two-by-four and pound him into dust. That’s what you’re going to do.”
Lucy grimaced, slipping her legs over the side of the couch and coming up to sit. As she did, Jack seated himself beside her, his expression compassionate, his eyes telegraphing concern. “You’d leave before the twins and Helen are even out of the hospital? When she came all this way to be with you for your birthday?”
Lucy flinched at the reminder. It would be cruel to leave, abandoning Helen and the babies when her sister had come especially to see her. But what else could she do? She wasn’t an aggressive person, loving a fight like her ex-lawyer sister, Elissa. Lucy hated confrontations, had spent her life trying to keep everyone calm and happy. People had always called her the sensitive one, the conciliatory one—“the sweet sister.” Confrontation wasn’t part of her character.
There was no way she could face Stadler and his new love. She shuddered at the thought, unable to look at either Elissa or Jack. “I can’t stay.” With her forlorn sigh, Jack took her hands in his big, warm ones, but she pulled away from his touch, too upset with her sniveling cowardice to allow herself to be comforted. “I—I’ll go pack.”
“No, you won’t,” Elissa warned. Lucy rose to her feet, but her older sister’s hands clamped down on her shoulders, halting her. “You’re not bolting like a jackrabbit, young lady. If you go, there will be nobody here to keep me from leaping on Stadler’s back and strangling him. Do you want that? Do you want me to spend my best years behind bars just because I dispatched a worthless toad to Worthless-Toad Hell?”
Lucy winced, not so much from her sister’s empty threat, but from the pressure of her blunt fingernails biting into her flesh. “Elissa, please don’t belabor this. I’m leaving.” She ducked out of her grasp. “Besides, I know you’re itching to tell him off yourself.”
“What I’m itching to do is beside the point.” She took Lucy’s face between her palms, forcing her to look into determined green eyes. “It’s what you must do that we’re talking about.”
Tears welled and Lucy blinked them back. “I—I can’t.”
With a frown furrowing her brow, Elissa dropped her arms to her sides. “Coward!”
Lucy fought to keep from trembling. “Don’t be mean, Elissa,” she whispered.
There was movement beside her and she knew Jack had stood. “Your sister’s right, Luce. Don’t run away. Stay and show the jerk you don’t care a damn about him.”
Gulping around a knot of tears, Lucy faced him. “But—but I do care.”
There was a brief slitting of his eyes, a fleeting sideways stirring of his jaw, an odd reaction. Almost as though he’d been slapped. The expression lasted only a millisecond before he offered a sympathetic smile. “Luce, the man has a tremendous ego, thinking his two women must meet. Hell, he probably has visions of a catfight over him right here in the parlor. The only thing he could hope for that could be more flattering than that would be if you ran.” He reached out as though he was going to touch her cheek, then seemed to think better of it. With a slow fisting of his hand, he dropped it to his side. “Don’t you have the smallest desire to avenge yourself for what he did to you?”
She stared, confused. “Avenge myself?”
“Great idea!” Elissa clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. “Make him think you’re so bored to see him you can hardly remember his name.” She sat down on the leather chair as Lucy pivoted to look at her. There was a frightening gleam in her older sister’s eyes. “Now, Jack,” Elissa was saying, “since Lucy’s so rotten at plotting revenge, it’s up to us. What would make Stadler hang by his thumbs, twisting in the wind, screaming in agony?”
Lucy sank to the sofa. What was going on? Her mind was too numbed to grasp what they were plotting. But it didn’t really matter what they were talking about. She only needed another minute to get her strength back and she would tell them to forget it, then she’d go to her room and pack a bag and be gone.
“Being a man, I know what would put a gaping hole in my ego.”
“What?” Elissa sat forward, expectancy stamped on her pretty face. “I hope it involves a ‘kick me’ sign on Stadler’s back.”
Jack grinned wryly. “Psychologically, yes.”
“Please, you two, I—”
“Hush, sweetie!” Elissa waved a dismissal. “Jack has an idea.”
Lucy shifted to stare at him, afraid she wasn’t going to be thrilled by his idea—if it had anything to do with being in town when Stadler got here. She was sorry to have to admit it, even to herself, but she was as terrified of facing her ex-fiancé and his lady love as she had been of thunderstorms when she was a child.
She watched Jack’s face. He surveyed her gently, his eyes narrowed with worry or possibly pity. She couldn’t be sure which, and squirmed. She didn’t want Jack’s pity! She’d never thought about it until this minute, but for some reason, she couldn’t bear the idea of Jack’s feeling sorry for her. She wanted him to smile his teasing smile, not watch her solemnly, his eyes stricken. Unable to deal with what she saw and how that sight made her feel, she twisted away.
Her uneasy movement seemed to affect him, and he cleared his throat. “Okay, how’s this for an idea? His ego would be exploded all to hell if you met him with a fiancé of your own.”
Elissa’s gasp drew Lucy’s gaze. She felt dull-witted, her brain trying to assimilate what Jack had said. But apparently, Elissa’s brain had readily grasped the concept, deduced that it was perfect and ordered up a victorious smile.
“Wonderful!” Elissa cried. “Fight fire with fire! Make him think you’ve been as disloyal to him as he was to you, the bag of dirt!” She vaulted up, clearly deciding the plan was settled. “I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes you don’t care a crumb for him!”
Lucy frowned at her sister, her astonished glance skittering to Jack. She couldn’t even express what she was thinking. For instance, even if she agreed to this, just who would be her fake fiancé? The whole idea was impossible.
“I’d better clean up the mess I made.” Elissa began gingerly picking up broken shards of the teacup. “Then we’ll have to warn Helen and Damien and get our story straight. We don’t have long.”
Lucy’s ability to speak clicked on and she jumped up. “We?” She glared at Elissa and then at Jack. “We? I hope you don’t think I’ll agree to this. First of all, there aren’t that many men hanging around that I can ask to go along with such a crazy scheme. And secondly, I can’t lie. I’ve never been able to lie. It’s hopeless.” She headed for the parlor exit. “I’m going to pack. Elissa, call the Springfield bus station and get me a ticket on the first bus to Kansas City. I’ll hide out in the YWCA until he’s gone. The Smiths are leaving for Springfield in the morning. I can hitch a ride with them.”
She felt a hand take her wrist. “I’ll do it, Luce.”
Caught in Jack’s firm grasp, she spun toward him as Elissa scolded, “You certainly won’t do any such thing, Jack. Nobody’s giving her a ride anywhere.”
“I didn’t mean that.” He faced Lucy, towering there, all muscle and firelight. His bedroom eyes at half-mast, his features were unsmiling. “I meant, I’ll pretend to be your fiancé.” His voice was smoky soft, his glance strangely beguiling. She blinked, feeling out of breath as she focused all her senses on what he was saying. “You’ve known me a long time, Luce. We already care about each other. It wouldn’t be that hard to pretend you love me—would it?”
Elissa gasped. “Perfection! Absolute perfection.” Since her hands were full of broken pieces of china, she nudged Lucy in the ribs with her elbow. “And Jack’s a lot better looking than Stadler. Taller, richer, and he has a strong, square chin, not that excuse for a jaw of Stadler’s.”
Jack grinned wryly at the redhead. “Stop it before I blush.”
Elissa laughed. “Really, Jack. This is better than my ‘kick me’ sign idea. It’ll destroy Stadler right down to his scummy roots.” Elissa stretched up to kiss his cheek. “I’d better go throw this china away before I slash an artery. You two start planning Stadler’s downfall.”
When Elissa was gone, Lucy could only gawk at the man before her. “I—I won’t let you do this.”
He squeezed her wrist, his fingers lingering a second before he let her go. “Hey, if it weren’t for the influence of your family, I might have traveled a very different road in life.” He shrugged his hands into his trouser pockets. “Let me help, Luce. I want to.”