Last's Temptation (8 page)

Esme didn’t need to be any more beautiful. He was already having heart failure as it was. A math teacher asking about her, indeed! And she was just as likely to fall for an academic, studious type as any other.

“Hi,” he said, rolling down the window. “Nice. You all look very nice.”

Curtis and Amelia smiled, coming over to coo at Annette. Esme hung back a bit, which didn’t escape Last’s attention. “You sure keep busy,” he said.

“There’s a lot to do.”

He grimaced. “What’s next?”

“Lily is taking me to look at some homes.”

“Homes?” He could feel his blood begin to boil. “For what?”

“My parents, the kids and I. Maybe a dog.”

He had not given her permission to move off his ranch, Last thought. And she hadn’t told him she
was leaving, as she’d promised to do. Then he quickly squelched those thoughts. Before he could say something he’d regret, he said, “That’s good. Annette and I have got to get a move on. We’re taking a driving tour, just the two of us.”

She smiled. “You’re such a good father.”

Instead of agreeing, curiosity got the best of him. “So what homes will Lily take you to see?”

“Country farmhouses,” Esme said proudly. “She says she has some wonderful candidates.”

“Oh?” He tried to stoke some enthusiasm, but it was almost painfully difficult in the face of his desire to keep her near him. Did she have to be such a rolling stone?

“Someplace large enough for my folks. With easy access, so that I can have some wheelchair ramps built. Room for the kids to run. All the necessary things for a family.”

Apparently not one thought about him, he realized sourly. “Your parents are moving down?”

She nodded. “It seemed like the best thing to do if we wanted the judge to agree that I was a suitably custodial parent. And remember, they need me, too.”

So did he, but he didn’t seem to bear any part in this decision process. He felt like an afterthought, and considering the fact that she’d given
him her virginity, he was pretty certain he should be one of her regular thoughts.

“So the family plan is that all of you will be in one place. In the wholesome country, in stable Texas. With you teaching instead of lion taming.”

She smiled, and he wondered if he’d ever seen such a happy smile on a woman’s face.

“I can’t thank you enough, Last. This is perfect for my family. Thanks to you, I know that everything is going to work out for us.”

He scratched his chin, considering his options. “So I suppose you’ll need help moving your parents here?” At least he could be of some service, if only to be close to Esme and the children. Even if she wasn’t what she’d claimed to be.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask,” she said. “You’ve done too much. My circus friends are bringing my parents down. In fact, the whole circus is coming here.”

He blinked. Something like a nervous tic developed beside his hat. “The ringmaster, the lion tamer and the gorilla man?”

“Everyone.” She smiled. “They feel that this is an area with great possibilities. According to Delilah Honeycutt—she’s a wonderful woman—Lonely Hearts Station could use a stable attraction to add to their monthly rodeo.”

His mouth dried out. “Um, that thought had certainly never occurred to me.”

“Nor me,” Esme said. “It’s almost magical how this is all working out. Like I waited all my life for a miracle and then—poof!—it happens like the world’s most wonderful fairy tale.”

“I guess,” he said reluctantly. He couldn’t think past the circus idea. Of course, it was brilliant, and trust Delilah to think of it. It would bring so much tourism and revenue to Lonely Hearts Station that it was almost mind-boggling.

It also meant Esme would have very little room for him in her life. Even with that sad thought he managed to say, “Congratulations. It’s amazing.”

She beamed. “Well, I must go. There’s so much to do in the next two weeks.”

He felt strangely as if he had nothing of importance to do at all. And yet wasn’t this the best thing for both of them? He’d given her assistance, which she’d needed. They’d both stated up front that they didn’t want long-term relationships. There was no reason for him to be involved further, except as a friend.

He’d done his duty, Last decided. “I’m glad for you,” he said finally. “Good luck.”

“It’s all because of you,” she said softly, leaning
through the window to give him a long, achingly familiar kiss that had him wanting to drag her into the truck to carry her off for an afternoon of burning lovemaking.

The door of the bakery opened, and they both heard it slam. Esme gave him one last peck on the cheek, then hurried off to get her kids. Amelia carefully strapped Annette into her booster seat, then waved goodbye to Last, as did Curtis. They got into their borrowed truck and drove off down the main street of Union Junction, leaving Last pondering what had just happened to him as he remained parked right where he was.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw several interested faces peering around lace curtains at the Union Junction salon. He saw the old men at the church bingo parlor surreptitiously close the front door a fraction more, probably rearranging their bets. On the sidewalk, Delilah and Jerry waved before getting into a truck with Lily, no doubt leaving to take Esme and the kids house hunting.

He felt strangely exposed. His palms itched, but it was nothing like the burn in his jeans. The problem was that this…relationship wasn’t as easy as everyone seemed to think it was. Esme was not the type of woman who sat home sedately waiting
for the phone to ring. In fact, he wasn’t even certain she’d answer.

“If all her good luck is due to me,” he told Annette, “I’d sure as hell like some of the perks.”

She kicked her feet, but he wasn’t certain if she was bored or agreeing. The salon curtains fell back into place; the church door closed all the way. The street was empty of spectators.

“Son of a gun,” he muttered. “Part of me is happy she’ll be around here forever, even if she wasn’t completely honest about who she was. And the other part of me—the rational part—says I’m in Jefferson-size, endless
trouble.
”

Surprisingly the latter was a thought he didn’t find entirely unpleasant.

Mason called to say he wanted Last to eat dinner with him, so instead of leaving town with his daughter, Last headed to the homestead. Olivia asked Annette to eat dinner with her crew—aunt’s privilege—so Last succumbed to that, too.

It wasn’t until it was just Last and Mason at the long dinner table, void of any personalities save their own, that Last began to realize what life was like for his older brother. Lonely.

There was so much silence in the room that even Helga kept to herself in another room. Mason ate quietly, doggedly, barely looking up. Last wondered why his brother had called him to eat, then knew the answer.

Mason didn’t like being alone. For all the marrying and baby-making going on in the Jefferson
family, Mason was pretty much going to find himself living at the ranch by himself—if Last left again.

Of all of them, Mason was probably the one who would suffer the most without any companionship. It was a terrible thought, and Last felt sorry for his brother as he sopped up the last of his gravy with a piece of fresh-baked bread. Mason would always have Helga, but that was little comfort, and Mimi had the housekeeper half the week anyway.

No sooner had he thought of Mimi than the silence was broken by the blond hurricane blowing through the front door.

“Hello, fellows,” she said, putting Nanette down next to Mason. “Can I join you?”

Helga appeared with two plates as if relieved to have extra company. Mimi grinned at Last. “I’ve just about talked your brother into running for sheriff. Just because he doesn’t want me to run, you know.”

“You can’t,” Mason said.

“I can,” Mimi insisted. “But you’d do it better.”

“And then what?” Mason demanded.

Last noticed that his brother’s entire demeanor perked up now that Mimi was there arguing with him. It was as if blood flowed into his skin and fire lit inside his big body.

“And then I’m going to be a single mother,” Mimi said as if Mason were thick—which he was sometimes, Last amended. “I’m going to take care of my daughter and my father.”

“Leaving me to do the work in town,” Mason said. “I heard there were several still-anonymous candidates who want the job. Neither you nor I need it.”

“Mason Jefferson,” Mimi said with authority, “you and I make a great team. We could be a great sheriff.”

“We?” Mason pushed away his plate. “We? Mimi Cannady, all you’ve ever brought me is trouble.”

“No.” She shook her head. “All I’ve brought you is the only happiness you’ve ever really known.”

Last’s eyes widened. Silently he applauded Mimi for spitting the truth right out at his brother. No brother amongst them dared to speak in that manner to Mason. Well, they might, but they also knew they’d be in for a righteous ass-kicking.

Mason sat there quietly, taking whatever Mimi cared to dish out.

“Well,” Mason said, “I still don’t fancy being a sheriff.”

“I fancy the office staying in my family.”

“But I’m not your family,” Mason said. “So what good does that do?”

“You are my family,” Mimi said. “You’re just like any other Jefferson brother to me.”

Mason stared at her. Last shrugged, looking morosely at his plate, wondering if Helga dared step inside the room to ladle seconds. Then again, if he got up to get the food himself, he wouldn’t have to sit and listen to the two of them square off, entertaining though it might be. Nanette threw her milk sippie cup, and both of them reached simultaneously to get it. Mason patiently said, “No, Nanette,” and Mimi said, “No, Nanette,” and it was like parenting in surround sound.

“I think I’ll just mosey off to find Annette,” he said, and both Mimi and Mason turned on him.

“No,” they said together.

“You be referee,” Mimi said.

“I need pie if that’s going to happen,” Last said, “and Helga’s afraid to come in the room.”

“Pie, please, Helga,” Mason called, and the housekeeper quickly brought delicious pieces of pecan pie that made sitting through the Battle of the Hardheads worth it. Last barely listened to them as they continued discussing the sheriff problem. The good thing, he told himself, was that he and Esme never acted this way. She just ignored
him and went about her business, never trying to incorporate him into any plans.

Which was annoying, Last thought with a frown. Wouldn’t he rather sit and debate like his brother with his good friend?

He chewed, savoring the sugary pecan flavor, watching the three of them at the end of the table. Nanette made circles with her spilled milk while Mimi and Mason said their piece on both sides. Neither of them listened to the other, and so Last felt no need to referee anything.

In fact, he quietly slid Mason’s piece of pie his way, happily forking into it. If only Mimi would come argue with Mason every evening, his brother wouldn’t want Last to share meals. Last wouldn’t feel guilty about Mason living in this big house alone. Sure, there were plenty of brothers around, but it wasn’t the same. When people had new families, they spent all their time with those new families, and single uncles were sort of solitary curiosities.

The debate raged on, so Last reached for Mimi’s piece of pie, feeling pretty full but not wanting to pay too much attention to anything that was being said. Nanette looked at him as he snitched the pie, her eyes round with surprise.

“Bad habit,” he whispered to her. “Don’t start it.”

Mimi reached over and pulled her pie back. “Last, this pie is worth its weight in gold. I couldn’t allow you to sneak it from me, even though I adore you.”

Mason blinked. “You don’t adore
me,
” he said.

They all sat very still for a moment.

“It was a figure of speech,” Mimi said.

“But still,” Mason said, “you don’t even really like me.”

Last looked at the ceiling, wishing he could turn himself into a fly and buzz out the door.

“I like you,” Mimi said, “like I like all the boys.”

Mason took that in for a second, then looked around for his pie. When he saw that Last had two plates in front of him, he glared at Last. “Last,” Mason said, “it’s high time you quit thinking everything has to be your way.”

Last’s eyes bugged. “You have
got
to be kidding me.”

“No,” Mason said, his tone definitive. “You cannot be the baby with the rose-colored glasses anymore. You have to get a real job and a real life and…you have to stop living off my hard work.”

Mimi gasped. Last stared at his older brother, who had suddenly become gargoylelike at the head of the table.

“You’ve just been on easy street too long,”
Mason said, “and it’s time for you to share the burden of running this ranch if you’re going to live here.”

Mimi looked at Last, her surprise evident. Last shook his head. Mason was just being ornery. Last had always given a fair share of work to the ranch. “It was just a piece of pie, Mason,” he said. “Calm down.”

“I’ll tell you what.” Mason speared his fork in Last’s direction. “I’ll calm down when I’ve said what I need to say. I’ve had no less than a half dozen phone calls today wondering when the wedding’s going to be.”

Last frowned. “What wedding?”

“Between you and that circus-girl magician,” Mason said sourly.

“Why would anybody call you?” Last asked.

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you could share that information.”

“No.” Last shook his head. “Esme and I have never even talked about marriage. We’ve never even talked about dating.”

Mason looked as if he didn’t believe him.

“She’s moving off of the ranch, Mason,” Last said. “She’s finding a place of her own, and her parents are moving here to live with her.” He looked
at his brother a bit crabbily. “Not that it’s really any of your business, but why didn’t you just come right out and ask me instead of going through the charade of having me to dinner?”

Mason shrugged. “Dinner’s as good time as any to talk about things. I like dinner-table discussions.”

Mimi rose, looking as if she wanted to escape, but Last pointed his fork at her. “Sit,” he said. “I sat for yours, now you sit for mine.”

She sat and wiped up Nanette’s milky mess.

“What exactly is your beef?” Last demanded. “As far as I can tell, you’re taking turns chewing on my head and Mimi’s. Neither one of us is likely to take it for long. So do you have something else on the brain or can we all get on with some civil conversation?”

Mason wrinkled his brows. “The two of you irritate me is all.”

Last and Mimi rolled their eyes at each other, then looked at Mason.

“Mason,” Mimi said, “you’ve got a knot in your tail the size of Texas. And if you don’t settle down, I’m gonna give it a jerk you won’t forget.”

Mason folded his lips in a grimace. “This is serious business,” he said. “Last ought to care about his reputation. People are talking.”

“My reputation’s fine,” Last said. “People talk about you, too, but you don’t care. Why should I?”

Mason stuck out his chin. “What do they say?”

Last rose to his feet. He took a deep breath. “
They
say that you’re a bit of a stubborn mule.
They
say you should have never let me run wild as a March hare.
They
say you should have married Mimi a long time ago, when she was still available.” Last glared at his big brother. “But I guess it’s too late to worry about what
they
say, don’t you think?”

Mimi grabbed up her baby. Mason jumped to his feet. Helga disappeared, the back door slamming. Even the candles flickered on the table before the gale force of Mason’s temper.

“Out,” Mason said. “Off this ranch right now. Don’t let me see hide nor hair of you till a month of Sundays has passed.”

“Fine,” Last said. He resisted the urge to toss a dinner plate or two as he left. Instead he simply walked out the door.

Mimi looked at Mason, stunned. “Was that necessary?” she asked softly.

Mason stared at her. “If I said it, then it was.”

“You picked that fight.”

“And I finished it,” he said.

“You hurt him,” Mimi said. “I saw no call for
that. He’s been kind and gentle all his days in this house. If he has lollipop vision, it’s because we all liked him that way. Besides, he’s grown into a fine man. If anyone has blinders on, Mason, you’re as guilty as anyone else.”

“Is it true, Mimi?”

She was surprised by his gruff question. “What?”

“That they say I should have married you. That people talk.”

She stuck out her chin to match his. “If they do, I don’t hear it,” she said. “So it doesn’t matter.”

“It would matter to me.”

“Well, it wouldn’t matter to me. I’m not living my life right if people aren’t talking, Mason,” she said, gathering up Nanette and heading to the door. “Personally I think you owe your brother an apology. If I’d been him, I would have pounded you.”

Mason looked at her. “I know.”

“Damn right.” She flung the door shut behind her, holding her daughter to her as she hurried to her truck.

She understood Mason. A big part of her wanted to kiss him because she knew he was in pain and a tiny bit of her wanted to slap sense into his skull. “I never knew such a formidable ox,” she told
Nanette as she put the little girl in her booster seat. “But please love him anyway, because he is about to drive off the last brother who has an ounce of pity and compassion for him.”

A
LL THE LIGHTS WERE OUT
in the house where Esme and her children were staying. The bedroom light had just flicked off, and the window was open to let in the breeze.

Last couldn’t stand being away from her any longer, especially after his fight with Mason. Too late to call—if she’d even answer. He decided to be more face-to-face. Shinnying up the tree trunk, he thanked his brothers for teaching him the art of drainpipe and tree scaling and tapped on the glass of the raised window.

He heard a muffled scream. Before he could settle himself completely and securely on the branch, a broom poked out the window, attacking him with vigor. Bristles gouged his face and most particularly his mouth. Flailing to save himself, Last lost his balance, falling two stories to the ground to land in a honeysuckle bush, which cushioned his fall, though stabbing him unpleasantly before dumping him to the ground.

“Last!” Esme said on a gasp as she peered down
to see what she’d dislodged from the tree. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

He groaned piteously, wondering why life had to be so hard for him. It definitely did not seem to be so difficult for his older brethren, and wasn’t the baby of the family supposed to have it the easiest? All roads neatly paved for the youngest?

“God, it’s a hardscrabble life,” he said to himself, appreciatively hearing the front door open with a jerk as Esme came running down the steps.

“Last! Are you all right?”

He moaned for theatrics, but he did feel as if his stomach was lodged somewhere around his head. “You hurt me,” he said.

“Well, I should think so! Haven’t you ever heard of a doorbell?”

He had, but she smelled so good and the satin of her nightgown was so smooth and soft that he felt his approach had been the correct one. “If I’d rung the doorbell, you would have put on a robe, and that’s the best-case scenario. Worst-case scenario is that you might not have opened the door at all. Yet here we are, enjoying a nice moonlit chat on the lawn, just like the old days.”

She gently cradled his head, looking closely in the dimness to see if there was blood, he sup
posed. But it was only his heart that really pained him.

“What old days?” she asked.

“Antebellum, I suppose.” He didn’t know and cared less, as long as she kept holding him in her lap. “When my mother was alive, we used to have journeys after dark to hunt skeet.”

“Skeet?” Esme laughed, and he liked the sound. “Is that a country bird?”

“It’s the bird a father conjures when he sneakily wants to teach his sons about the stars and planetary alignment.” Last sighed. “Mom would bring watermelon after our hunt—”

“Disguised as an astronomy visual aid, no doubt.”

“Don’t interrupt,” Last said. “I’m trying not to lose consciousness.”