Lady Be Good

  She moved toward the cake from one side of the room, while Kenny approached from the other. As Warren came forward and took Peter, he smiled fondly at Emma. “If I haven’t said it before, welcome to the family, Lady Emma. I couldn’t have found a better woman for Kenny if I’d picked her out myself.” He regarded his son with that overly eager look that broke her heart. “Congratulations, son. I’m proud of you.”

  Kenny barely acknowledged his words as he positioned himself in front of the cake. Her heart ached for both of them: the father who wanted to make up for old sins, and the son who couldn’t forgive a childhood of neglect.

  Patrick handed Emma the cake cutter, which he’d decorated with red, white, and blue ribbons. “More patriotic than bridal,” he sniffed, “but I didn’t have much warning.”

  She smiled at him, then looked down as Kenny’s hand settled over hers, that broad, tan palm sheltering her own smaller, whiter one, those strong, elegant fingers curling around hers. The sight of their joined hands made her eyes sting. If only their hearts were as tightly linked.

  Kenny took a sip of wine, then moved across the kitchen to turn off a light that had been left burning on the sunporch. Lady E had fled upstairs the minute the last of the guests had left, and he knew it wasn’t because she was in a hurry to hop into his bed. No, Lady E was holed up by herself tonight. He wondered if she’d go so far as to lock her door, but then he knew she wouldn’t. She’d rely on his honor instead to keep him away.

  His honor. To the public, it was badly tattered, but nothing could make him regret what he’d done to Hugh Holroyd.

  He stepped out onto the sunporch, then saw too late that he wasn’t alone. His father sat on the couch with Petie curled up asleep in his arms. He felt himself stiffen as he always did when he was with his father. “I thought you’d left.”

  “I sent Shelby back with Torie. I wanted to talk to you alone.”

  Warren was the last person Kenny wanted to talk to tonight, or any night for that matter. “In case you haven’t notice, I’m on my honeymoon.”

  “From what I saw tonight, it doesn’t look like much of a honeymoon. Lady Emma was barely speaking to you.” Petie made a little mewing sound in his sleep, and Warren cuddled him closer.

  Had his father ever held him like that? He was startled to feel a stab of jealousy. It made him ashamed, and then something inside him relaxed. Emma was right. Warren had learned from the past, and all the worries Kenny’d been having about his little brother were groundless. Petie wasn’t going to have to earn their father’s love.

  “Petie should be in bed,” he said gruffly.

  “He will be soon.” Warren pressed a kiss to the top of the baby’s head. “He was so comfortable, I didn’t want to disturb him.”

  Once again, that queer, painful stab. Petie was being given his father’s love as a birthright. Torie had received the same thing. Only Kenny’d had to earn it—one tournament at a time.

  Now his father wanted to pretend that everything was fine between them. But it wasn’t fine. Kenny had needed a father when he was a kid; he sure as hell didn’t need one now.

  “I’m concerned about you and Lady Emma.”

  “Her name’s Emma. She doesn’t use her title. And there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  Warren stroked Petie’s back and gazed out the sun-porch windows toward the dark pecan grove. “I’m not much of a praying man. I can’t do it right—just doesn’t come naturally to me—so I leave it up to other people. Like Shelby. Now, she’s a real good prayer, and she says Emma’s the answer to her prayers for you.”

  “I didn’t ask Shelby to pray for me.”

  “No, you didn’t. I asked her.”

  “If she’s so good at praying, put her to work getting me back on the tour.” Kenny tossed back the remaining contents of his wine glass and turned toward the kitchen, but his father’s voice stopped him.

  “Come back here and sit down.”

  “It’s late. I’m tired.”

  “I said, sit down.”

  It was the nightmare voice from his childhood: “Set your butt right down on that chair. You’re a damn disgrace! You know that, don’t you? A spoiled little brat . . .”

  But Kenny wasn’t a kid anymore, and if Warren wanted a showdown, then by damn they were going to have one. He set his wine glass on the table, leaned against the doorjamb, and stared insolently across the sunporch at his father. “You got something on your mind, just come out and say it.”

  “All right.” Warren had to look up at him, but it didn’t seem to bother him as much as Kenny wanted it to. “I know you don’t think much of me, and it’s no mystery why. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, and you’re not going to forgive that. But you’re still my son, and I can’t stand by and watch you screw up the most important thing in your life because you’re still fighting all those things that happened to you when you were too young to defend yourself.”

  Kenny’s lips felt stiff. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about the way your past keeps affecting your future. I like Lady Emma. We all do. And when the two of you are in a room together, you don’t seem to be able to take your eyes off each other. You’ve never been like that with any other woman.”

  He wasn’t going to explain that his marriage to Emma was more an accident than a lifelong commitment. Instead, he stared belligerently at his father. “I married her, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, you married her. But it’s plain that the two of you still have a lot of problems to work out.”

  “Whether we do or not isn’t any of your damn business.”

  “Listen to me, Kenny. For just once in your life, listen. I’ve never been happier about anything than I am with the way you’ve made something of yourself, even though I know Dallie Beaudine deserves the credit rather than me. More than anybody on the face of this earth, including your sister, I understand exactly what you’ve had to overcome to get where you are. And I’ll tell you this: There aren’t many people who could have done it.”

  For a moment a flash of gratitude shot through him, but the praise had come too late. “Get to the point,” he snapped.

  “What I’m trying to say is . . . as I get older, all the things I’ve done to make money have become less important in my life. I’m proud of the company. I built it up from nothing, and I’m sure as hell not going to stand by and watch it get eaten up. But when I’m sitting out on the patio on a Sunday afternoon, and I start counting my blessings, it’s the people I love that come to my mind, not the company.”

  Kenny didn’t want to hear this. “You sound like a fucking Hallmark card.”

  But his father refused to retreat. “You’ve got a chance to have a real life for yourself, one that doesn’t start and end on the golf course. You’ve got a chance to build a relationship with a good woman, to have children, and ride your horses, and enjoy this ranch. Don’t screw it up.”

  Fury at Warren’s hypocrisy boiled inside him. “Maybe you’d better think twice about that advice you’re handing out. If I start taking time to smell the roses, I won’t be able to win so many golf tournaments. And then you won’t have anything to brag about at all your corporate cocktail parties.”

  Warren didn’t flinch from the attack, which made Kenny feel small and mean. Instead, he nestled his palm around Petie’s head and rose to his feet. “It’s all right, son. I understand. I’ve gotten used to feeling guilty where you’re concerned, and you don’t have to forgive me.”

  Petie stirred and tried to drag his eyes open. They drooped shut again as Warren snuggled him closer. “You’re a good man, Kenny. And that’s thanks to Dallie, not to me. You’re decent and smart as a whip; you care about other people. I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s time you accepted what the rest of the world’s already figured out—there’s a lot more to you than just another rich boy who can play some golf.”

  He began to move to the door, but Kenny couldn?
??t let him go like that. It felt too much as if his father’d had the last word. “You’d better not pull any bullshit with Petie,” he snarled, “or you’re going to answer to me.”

  His father’s expression grew so sad he could barely stand to witness it. “I like to believe I learn from my mistakes, and I plan to do my best with him. Even so, I’m not perfect. But I guess you know that.”

  He shifted the baby in his arms and disappeared, leaving Kenny with the feeling that he’d left something important undone.

  Emma spent a lonely, unhappy night in the guest room. She missed the solid feel of Kenny’s body next to hers, the way he hogged the covers when he turned over, and reached out in his sleep for her. As she made her way to the bathroom the next morning, she glanced out the window and saw him swimming laps, but instead of his customary slow crawl, he was churning through the water as if he wanted to conquer it.

  She rested her cheek against the window frame and watched him reach one end of the pool and immediately race back toward the other. As he attacked the water, she considered the way everyone would react when they learned this marriage wasn’t going to last.

  Kenny screwed up again. I always knew it wouldn’t work. The only thing he’s ever been good at is playing golf.

  The legend of lazy, spoiled Kenny Traveler would only grow larger.

  She told herself that wasn’t her problem, but she felt dismal. She showered and dressed, then headed down to the kitchen. Patrick had left a note on the counter directing her toward a bowl of fresh fruit in the refrigerator. He also suggested she not answer the phone. As she retrieved the fruit, she heard the front door open, then the sound of Torie’s voice, with Dexter’s quieter response.

  Torie sailed in wearing a cropped blue and purple batik-print top and shorts, along with chunky leather sandals. “I guess I should ring the bell now that this isn’t bachelor’s quarters anymore. Sorry, Lady E.”

  “That’s all right.” Emma smiled at Dexter. “Have some coffee.”

  “Thank you.” He moved toward the kitchen, then looked up as Kenny came in from outside. A gray T-shirt clung to his damp chest, and water dripped from the curly ends of his hair, while his bare feet left damp tracks on the terra-cotta floor.

  “Hey, bubba.”

  Kenny managed a smile for his sister, then spotted Dexter and glowered. “What are you doing here?”

  “I invited him.”

  Kenny gave his sister a dark look. “Why’d you do that? I thought you wanted to get rid of him.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a lot harder than I figured.”

  He frowned, then looked at her more closely. In three strides, he crossed the room, shot out his hand, and cupped her chin to tilt it toward the light. “Did he do that? Did he put that sucker bite on you?”

  “He might have.” She shrugged off his hand. “By the way, you must have had about fifty messages yesterday on the answering machine at your condo. Everybody in the world is trying to get hold of you. Your fight with Hugh’s got you on the front page of the sports section all over again.”

  Kenny whipped off the towel draped around his neck and spun on Dex. “You got her drunk, didn’t you? Last night. You weren’t having any luck seducing her when she was sober, so you got her drunk.”

  Torie sank back on a counter stool and smiled. “He did worse than that. A lot worse. Didn’t you, Dex?”

  Emma felt a prickle of alarm as Kenny grew very still. He dropped the towel, and the muscles beneath his damp gray T-shirt tensed. “What are you talking about? What did he do?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “He beat me.”

  “He what?”

  Emma immediately stepped between the two men and rested her hand on Kenny’s chest. “Your sister is deliberately baiting you. Torie, stop it at once.”

  Torie tried to look cowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kenny turned to Dex, his expression threatening. “Maybe you’d better tell me exactly what you did.”

  Dexter filled the mug Emma had given him with coffee. “Torie’s a much bigger threat to herself than I am.”

  But Torie wasn’t done having her fun. She hooked one heel of her sandal over the rung of the stool and looked injured. “He spanked me, Kenny. He overpowered me, threw me right over his knees, and spanked me. Bare butt. Or closest thing to.”

  Kenny went completely still. He stared at Dexter. “Is that true?”

  Dex stirred a teaspoon of sugar into his coffee and gave an absentminded nod.

  To Emma’s astonishment, all the tension seemed to trickle out of Kenny, and, for the first time, he regarded Dexter with interest instead of suspicion. “No kidding. Even I wouldn’t have the nerve to do something like that.”

  His reaction upset Torie. “You should beat him up, Kenny! Although maybe I’d better warn you that he’s stronger than he looks. Still, he’s not exactly Hercules, and you’ll be able to take him without too much trouble.”

  Dexter sipped from his mug and nodded at Emma. “Excellent coffee.”

  Emma suppressed a smile. “I’ll pass on your compliments to Patrick.”

  Kenny looked from his sister to Dexter, then walked over to pour a mug for himself. He leaned back against the counter and studied the other man. “So, Dex, how’s come you’re still alive to tell the tale?”

  Dexter wiped up a small coffee spill, then sat on the stool next to Torie. “All I’m prepared to say is that your sister and I slept together, and, since I compromised her, I intend to marry her.”

  Torie dropped her forehead and banged it three times against the countertop. “You are such a geek.”

  “Doesn’t sound like she’s too enthusiastic about it,” Kenny said.

  “She’s enthusiastic.” He reached over and stroked her shoulder. “But she has her pride. She’s also frightened, which is understandable, although it doesn’t make any difference. She and I made a deal, and we’re getting married.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “That’s private,” Dex said as Torie opened her mouth to respond. He regarded her with amusement. “Victoria, has it occurred to you that you really don’t need to reveal our private life to everyone?”

  “Kenny’s not everyone.”

  Dex lifted an eyebrow and caressed the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

  “Oh, all right,” she grumbled. Then, trying to regain lost ground, she turned the conversation. “I couldn’t help but notice last night that the two of you weren’t exactly acting like a couple of lovebirds. What happened, Lady E? Has Kenny started beating you, too?”

  Emma grabbed the sponge from the sink and dabbed at the clean counter. “It’s complicated, that’s all.”

  “Not that complicated,” Kenny said. “Some people just want to make it seem that way.”

  Torie looked back and forth between Emma and her brother. “I don’t know why, but I’m siding with Lady E on this one.”

  Kenny slammed down his mug, sloshing coffee all over the counter. “You don’t even know what’s happening.”

  “I know that Emma’s levelheaded, and you’re notoriously screwed up when it comes to women.”

  “Levelheaded? She let the whole world believe that you’re her lesbian lover!”

  Torie grinned at Emma. “That was sooo cool.”

  Kenny grabbed his mug and headed for the door. “I’m taking a shower.” Then he stopped to regard Emma with chilly eyes. “Maybe you’d better make your big announcement before I leave. I don’t want to deprive Torie of the chance to blame me for this, too.”

  He was giving her the opening she needed to tell them that she wasn’t staying at the ranch but moving to a hotel.

  Kenny Traveler screwed up again. I always knew it wouldn’t work. The only thing he’s ever been good at is swinging a golf club.

  She realized she couldn’t do it. Her plan to stay at the hotel had seemed sound yesterday on the plane, but now she was in Wynette, where news carried quickly, and she simply couldn’t tolerate having Kenny once again held
up to public ridicule, especially when she knew he wouldn’t defend himself. “Well, the truth is that I’ve decided to get serious about learning to drive.” She turned to Torie. “And since Kenny yelled the only time he rode with me, I’m wondering if you’ll give me another lesson.”

  He leaned against the doorframe and watched her, a wary expression in his eyes as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “I don’t know why you think I’d blame you because Lady E wants to learn to drive, Kenny. Sometimes I believe you have a persecution complex.” Torie smiled back at Emma. “How about driving me over to see Father Joseph this afternoon?”

  Kenny’s attention shifted from Emma to his sister. “Why do you want to see Father Joseph?”

  “I don’t want to see Father Joseph,” she replied, clearly exasperated. “I have to see him. Haven’t you been listening?”

  “Apparently not well enough.”

  “This thing with Dex, is all.” She fidgeted.

  “The spanking?”

  “No, not that! Weren’t you paying any attention? Or didn’t you hear what he said?” Her chest expanded as she drew a deep breath. “The sonovabitch is making me marry him.”

  Dex regarded Kenny steadily. “I believe I did mention that.”

  Torie gazed at her brother, an expression of entreaty on her face that made Emma want to hug her. Torie couldn’t quite swallow her pride enough to admit that she’d made a mistake about Dexter. She simply wanted Kenny to understand.

  Long seconds ticked by. Torie’s hand crept toward Dexter’s. He covered it with his palm.

  Kenny finally spoke. “Well, I guess you’ll have to go along with it, then.”

  Emma smiled. Kenny wasn’t nearly as obtuse about other people’s hang-ups as he was about his own.

  Torie snuggled a bit closer to Dex, whose serious eyes held a decidedly dreamy expression. She, on the other hand, gave a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t know why Dex had to fall in love with me. And I don’t know how I’ll ever hold up my head in this town again. He’s got something like a thirty-two handicap.”