The Backup Plan (4 page)

Maggie grinned. “We'll see,” she said with smug confidence.

Dinah decided it was past time to turn the tables on her friend. “What about you, Magnolia?” she inquired, deliberately using her friend's hated real name. “Anyone special in your life? Since you seem so fascinated
by Cordell, perhaps you should be encouraging him to give you a tumble.”

“I tried, to be perfectly honest,” Maggie admitted. “He wouldn't give me a second look. I'm far too tame for the likes of Cordell.”

“And I'm not?”

“You play a form of roulette with car bombs and rebel gunmen,” Maggie replied. “I'd say that qualifies you for a man who likes living on the edge.”

Dinah sighed. Though no one here knew it, she'd fallen for a man like that, a man who courted real danger every day. She'd wound up with a broken heart. Of course, there was a vast difference between physical danger and the emotional minefield a woman would have to tiptoe through with Cord. Even so, Dinah wanted no part of it.

“I've had it with risk-taking,” she told her friend emphatically. “I think Bobby's definitely the way to go.”

“But you haven't caught up with him yet?”

“No. I asked Cord to have him call me, but so far I haven't heard a word.”

“And you haven't gone chasing after him?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe that should tell you something,” Maggie suggested gently.

“What? That Cord didn't pass on the message?”

“That, or maybe you don't care enough to make the effort. Then, again, maybe it means that Bobby's moved on with his life. It has been ten years. Even an eternal optimist can get tired of waiting around after that long.”

Dinah studied Maggie. “What do you know that I don't?”

“Just that I don't want you to be setting yourself up
for disappointment if Bobby doesn't fall right in with your plans.”

That was definitely something Dinah hadn't considered. Maybe she really was a self-absorbed idiot to think he'd been waiting for her all this time. Their deal had merely been that they'd get together, if they happened to be available.

“You think he won't?” she asked Maggie.

“I can't say. That's up to him.”

Dinah had a feeling there was something that Maggie was deliberately keeping from her. She usually wasn't so circumspect. “If you know something you think I should know, tell me,” she commanded.

Maggie shook her head. “Not a chance. This is between you and Bobby.” She grinned. “And maybe Cordell. Something tells me he's going to figure in this before all is said and done.”

“You are turning out to be almost as exasperating as he was,” Dinah accused lightly. “Doesn't mean I'm not happy to see you, though. Can we have dinner soon?”

“My calendar's disgustingly open. Just tell me when,” Maggie said. “Now I'd better get back to work before my employees stage a rebellion. The last time I took a long lunch they sold a valuable painting at half price. Said they couldn't find a sticker on it, so they negotiated. They claimed their blood sugar had dropped so low, they forgot about the price list we keep in the file.”

Dinah chuckled at what was most likely no exaggeration. “I promise I'll come by to see this gallery of yours in a day or two and we'll schedule dinner.”

“Don't wait too long,” Maggie ordered. “Or I'll come looking for you.”

“It's good to see you, Maggie. I've missed you,” Dinah said, giving her friend a fierce hug.

“Missed you more.”

Dinah stood on the sidewalk in front of Maggie's place and watched her friend head off down the street to her successful gallery. She looked purposeful and confident, two traits Dinah wondered if she'd ever feel again.

 

Covington Plantation was a labor of love for Cord. Putting up with the board members and fighting for every penny to do the job right took more patience than waiting for the first cool breeze of fall, but it was going to be worth it to see this grand old house restored to its former glory.

For a kid who'd grown up in a place that was little more than a run-down shack, a house like this represented everything his home hadn't been. It was solid and spoke of proud ancestors. His own ancestors had been unremarkable and there had been nothing dependable about the two people who'd raised him and Bobby. They'd contributed genes and not much else. It was the charity of others that had given him and Bobby a chance at a better life. As much as it had grated to accept the private-school tuition, the church handouts, the free lunches, they'd swallowed their pride and done it.

Bobby had fit in better than Cord. Even as a kid, he'd had an ingratiating way about him, while Cord had radiated little better than grudging tolerance for those who'd extended a helping hand. He'd seethed with ungracious resentment and unwarranted pride, but he had managed to keep it under wraps for Bobby's sake and ultimately for his own.

He felt a whole lot better about it now, knowing that he had the respect of some of those same people who'd seen helping him and Bobby as their ticket into heaven.
With the wisdom of age, Cord was just realizing that some of those folks were simply being generous because they'd seen two kids in trouble. They had honestly wanted to help put them on the right track.

It was a matter of pride, though, that he'd earned their respect, that they'd turned to him when they were ready to proceed with the Covington Plantation renovation. He hadn't had to beg for the chance to bid, though he might have done it just for the opportunity to be a part of saving the house. As a kid he'd liked riding his bike out here.

He liked the stately old plantation house best early in the morning with the sun just starting to filter through the ancient trees and the sound of the birds breaking the silence. Sometimes as a boy, he'd sat on the front steps with a cold Coke in his hand and imagined he could hear the squabbles coming from the family inside or the distant singing of slaves working in the rice fields. Being here spoke to him of the past more clearly than any history teacher ever had.

He'd never want to go back to that sad time period, but now that he was all grown up, he liked knowing that he could preserve a little piece of it as a reminder of an other era. More than that, he liked saving structures that had been meant to last, restoring their beauty and craftsmanship for future generations to enjoy.

Usually this half hour before his crew arrived was a tranquil time, but ever since Dinah Davis had come by the house in search of Bobby, there hadn't been a peaceful moment in his life. That woman had gotten under his skin, just as she had years ago. A part of him wanted to put her in her place. Another part—the very male part of him—wanted to kiss that uppity expression off her
face. He'd struggled with the same dilemma as far back as he could remember.

Okay, maybe not quite as far back as elementary school, but it had definitely crossed his mind starting with puberty. Even then he'd somehow known he would be better for her than Bobby, who'd followed her around like an adoring puppy. When he couldn't stand his brother's attitude a minute longer, he'd done something about it, something that had almost caused a permanent rift with his brother and had left Dinah hating his guts.

When his cell phone rang, he glanced at the caller ID and suffered a pang of remorse.

“Hey, Bobby,” he said, stuffing down the faint trace of guilt he felt over keeping his mouth shut about Dinah's return. What was a little guilty silence, when the end result would be his brother's happiness? “How's it going in Atlanta?”

“We're on schedule and under budget,” Bobby announced. “Which you would know if you read the reports I fax over there every damn day.”

Cord grinned. He enjoyed keeping up the pretense that he ignored all Bobby's carefully detailed paperwork. It drove his brother nuts. “I believe I swept up a whole bagful of those reports just the other day. Summarize for me.”

Bobby did just that in tedious detail.

“Sounds like everything's under control, then. You're doing great work,” Cord praised. “That project's going to be a real showcase for us and you deserve all the credit.”

The truth was that they made a great team. Bobby knew the construction trade almost as well as Cord did, but while Cord loved working with his hands and considered himself a skilled craftsman, Bobby excelled at
staying on top of the details, working out cost projections and smooth-talking their backers. He was a natural for the Atlanta renovation project.

The Atlanta development was the most ambitious they'd done so far, encompassing an entire section of old buildings that had been destined for a wrecker's ball until Bobby and Cord had put together a proposal and bid on the property. When it was finished, there would be shops, restaurants and apartments in high-ceilinged old buildings with glowing hardwood floors, beautiful crown molding and a dozen other historic touches rarely found in this day and age. They and their backers stood to triple their investment, to say nothing of what the finished project would do to move them into the ranks of the elite historical preservationists in the country.

Suddenly Cord recalled one of the first things Bobby had said. “Just how far ahead of schedule are you?”

“A few weeks. I'll be back home before you know it, bro. I've got to tell you, I can't wait. Living in a hotel room is getting on my nerves. I was thinking I might drive over this weekend. It would give us a chance to go over those other projects we've got lined up. We need to think about assigning someone to oversee them. There's too much work for us to do it ourselves.”

Cord flinched. “No rush on that,” he said at once. “Just concentrate on wrapping things up in Atlanta. I've got everything here under control.”

“You still on speaking terms with the board at Covington?” Bobby asked worriedly.

Cord laughed. “Haven't insulted anybody in a couple of days now, as a matter of fact.” Unless he took into account Dinah, but that was definitely not something he cared to share.

“You sure about that?” Bobby asked, his skepticism
plain. “I know there was a big meeting this week and I know how you hate that kind of thing.”

“We all survived it.”

“Any ruffled feathers need smoothing over?”

“None,” Cord assured him. “I was on my best behavior. I swear it.”

“Why don't I find that nearly as reassuring as you evidently want me to?”

“Because you're a suspicious kind of guy?” Cord suggested. Because he feared that sooner or later he'd slip up and mention Dinah, Cord balled up a piece of paper beside the mouthpiece of the phone. “Hey, Bobby, the connection's going. We'll talk again soon, okay?”

“Don't you dare hang up on me. I know that trick,” he declared just as Cord hit the disconnect button.

Cord sighed, thanking his lucky stars that Bobby wasn't the kind of man who asked about the latest gossip. When his phone immediately rang again, he ignored it.

The last thing Cord wanted to do was utter an out right lie. It was better for Bobby to keep right on working his tail off in Atlanta in blissful ignorance. Since Bobby also happened to have a fiancée, Cord could even tell himself he was being noble and protecting her interests as well.

Just then another fleeting image of Dinah Davis with her endless legs and lush curves popped into his head and made a liar out of him. That didn't mean he intended to do anything about the attraction, he assured himself. He surely wasn't going to go chasing after her.

But the best part of having known a female since childhood was the long-standing awareness of her weaknesses. Sooner or later frustration and indignation were going to kick in and Dinah was going to come to him.

Cord lifted his cup of coffee in a silent toast to predictability. God bless it! He'd gotten more women just by waiting them out than most men had with flowers and candy. Patience was a gift, no question about it. Luckily, he'd been born with an abundance of it.

T
wo weeks passed without a word from Bobby. Dinah was disappointed that he didn't seem nearly as eager to renew their old relationship as she was. Or as she
might be,
she corrected. She wasn't exactly sure what to expect. Was she just trying to find something to replace her career if she couldn't conquer her post-traumatic stress issues and eventually go back to the network?

Acknowledging that possibility gave her a momentary twinge of guilt. Maybe Maggie was right. What right did Dinah have to disrupt Bobby's life after ten years when she merely
might
be ready for marriage? Sure, at thirty-one her biological clock was probably ticking loudly, but she hadn't even been listening to it until recently, not like a lot of women would be.

No, a relationship with Bobby was all about her desire to fill up her days with something that wouldn't get her killed, to be around people who weren't in danger of dying on a daily basis, to get her own equilibrium back.

Suddenly her reasons sounded damn selfish, but that didn't stop her from wanting to meet Bobby and see how she would react. What was the point of having a backup plan if she wasn't going to use it? If Bobby
wasn't interested in sticking to their deal then she'd have her answer. But how was she supposed to know how he felt without talking to him? Surely, after all they'd once meant to each other, he would at least tell her face-to-face that she was too late. He wouldn't leave her twisting in the wind like this. It wasn't one bit like him.

It was, however, a lot like Cord. There was always the very real possibility that Cord hadn't gotten around to mentioning her visit to Bobby. It would be just like him to deliberately keep her message from his brother just to annoy her. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done something totally underhanded to the two of them.

Another woman might have waited longer for Bobby to call on the off chance that he had made a conscious decision not to see her. Another woman might have feared being totally humiliated by the prospect of laying her heart bare and risking rejection, but Dinah wasn't most women. She'd braved far greater risks than rejection.

Besides, she was growing restless and increasingly tired of trying to evade her mother's worried interrogations. She'd come home on a mission. Perhaps it was a misguided one, but it was time she made something happen. Sitting around idle or being evasive wasn't her style.

She intended to take Ray's well-meant advice to heart. She was going to seriously consider getting married and having babies and put her dangerous, nomadic life behind her. She was beginning to wonder if she wouldn't prefer being shot at, rather than bored to death but the instant that thought crossed her mind, she knew that she needed to find Bobby immediately. She couldn't leave her fate in some other person's hands, especially when that person was Cordell.

With that in mind, Dinah went shopping, found herself the prettiest little sundress in all of Charleston, then drove right back out to the Beauforts'. She planned on busting right past Cord if he was guarding the threshold again. This time she would see Bobby or find evidence that would point her in the direction of wherever he was.

As she made the trip, she realized what a wonder it was that she'd ever gotten to know Bobby and Cordell. They weren't exactly poor, but they definitely hadn't run in the same social circles as the Davises. They had been befriended by someone who did travel in the same circles and so Dinah had met them at an early age. Only much, much later had she realized the enormity of the gift that someone had given them by enrolling them in the best private schools in Charleston.

Cord had been a pain in the neck even then. Two years older and precocious, he'd seemed to sense that he and his brother were tolerated rather than accepted. He understood that they were in that fancy private school because of someone's charity and he'd resented it. He'd set out to stir things up in a way that pretty much guaranteed that he wouldn't even be tolerated by the time he hit his teens. Whoever their benefactor had been, he or she had let Cord's ungrateful behavior pass. Maybe the person had even understood the cause of it. Dinah certainly hadn't, not back then, anyway.

Of course, as time went by, that dangerous, rebellious streak had only made Cord more attractive to a certain group of risk-taking debutantes intent on giving their mothers the vapors. Dinah had most definitely not been one of them. If she'd held a secret fascination for the black sheep Beaufort brother, she'd been far too sensible to act on it. Even-tempered Bobby had suited her then
and he suited her now. She'd come home in search of someone comforting, not a man who exasperated her at every turn, no matter what Maggie thought to the contrary.

Unfortunately, after she'd jarred her teeth driving over the rutted road that supposedly passed for a driveway, she found only Cordell. He was again sprawled in that shaded hammock, beer at his side, jeans riding low on his hips, his amazing abs now in full view. Her impression that he hadn't changed from being a lazy, good-for-nothing jerk was correct. But for the first time Dinah couldn't help but admire his body. Maggie had been right. God had given this man a real gift and he was wasting it out here in the middle of nowhere. He ought to pose for his own calendar, so women everywhere could ogle him in the privacy of their own homes. Dinah realized that even that would be too enterprising for Cord Beaufort.

When Cord didn't immediately call out some insult, she concluded with relief that he was asleep. She decided to creep past him and go in search of Bobby.

She'd almost made it, when Cord's hand snaked out and grabbed hers, hauling her to a stop. She couldn't help noticing that despite his annoying, powerful grip, there was something amazingly sensual about the way her hand fit into his, the way his thumb rubbed a lazy little circle over her pulse. She swore to herself that the heat suddenly sizzling through her blood was due to the steamy afternoon temperature and had nothing at all to do with his almost hypnotic touch.

“I thought you were sleeping,” she accused, struggling to free herself.

“That's not the first mistake you've made about me,”
Cord said, his mouth curving into a grin. “I imagine you're still prowling around looking for my brother.”

She saw no reason to deny it. “Yes.”

“He's still out of town.”

Something in his overly-pleased tone told her that he most likely had something to do with that. “How much longer is he going to be gone?” she asked.

His gaze caught hers and held. “How long are you going to stick around Charleston?”

His words all but confirmed her suspicion. She scowled at him. “Why don't you want me to see Bobby?”

Cord gave her a stunned look that was all innocence, or would have been if he were the sort to be constitutionally capable of maintaining an innocent act. Dinah acknowledged that it was a fairly decent attempt, though. Lord knew, he'd had enough practice perfecting it.

“Hey, my brother's a grown man,” Cord told her. “He can see anyone he wants to see.”

“Then you've told him I'm here?”

He considered the question with a thoughtful expression. “Could be that it slipped my mind,” he finally admitted.

“Why?”

“I have a lot going on these days,” he said with a shrug. “I can't remember everything.”

“Yeah, right. I can see for myself just how busy you are. It must be purely exhausting walking clear across the lawn to get your next beer.”

“Sugar, surely you're not suggesting that I'm lying to you,” he said with a trace of feigned indignation.

“That's exactly what I'm suggesting,” she retorted.

“Why would I want to keep you and Bobby apart?” he asked, feigning innocence once more.

“I was wondering that very thing myself. I don't understand it today any better than I did ten years ago when you made up a whole passel of lies to try to come between us. What is it, Cord? Can't you bear the thought of your brother being happy?”

“With you?” he asked with such blatant skepticism that Dinah winced.

“He loves me,” she retorted.

“Is that so?”

“He proposed to me.”

“When exactly was that?”

“A while back,” she said, unwilling to admit just how long ago it had been.

“Ten years,” Cord said, proving he knew more than Dinah had suspected. “And you assume he's been sitting around here pining for you all this time? How insulting is that? Bobby and I may not be a bit alike, but saint that he is, he's still a man with needs, if you know what I mean.”

As smart and intuitive as Dinah had always thought herself to be, she was forced to concede that she'd never seriously taken into account the possibility that Bobby might have moved on. She assumed he'd dated, but she'd only considered then dismissed the possibility he'd found a new love of his life. But maybe Cord was right. Maybe she
was
taking Bobby's affections for granted. In light of the deep feelings she'd developed for someone else during the past ten years, she had to ac knowledge the possibility Bobby had indeed found someone else.

Studying Cord, she asked, “Is your brother involved with someone else?”

Cord seemed to be debating the answer to that one, but he finally said, “You'll need to ask him that your-
self. I got in the middle of your business once. I won't make that mistake again.”

“Meaning he isn't, but you wish he were,” she concluded with a little sense of triumph. Or was it relief she felt?

“No, meaning this is between the two of you,” Cord responded flatly.

His careful dance around the question echoed what Maggie had told her, which was more disconcerting than Dinah cared to admit. They both implied that they were leaving out an important truth that they thought only Bobby had a right to share with Dinah. She decided to try to get to the bottom of it, though she'd probably have better luck with Maggie than with Cord. He had a stubborn streak that Maggie didn't share. Still, Cord was here and her best friend wasn't. She might as well push him a little and see what happened.

“It would be between Bobby and me if you'd given him my message,” she said. “As it is, you're right in the thick of it, Cordell. Why is that? Surely you're not jealous.”

His low chuckle grated on her nerves. It spoke volumes about what he thought of that explanation.

“It's not as if I'm a bad catch,” she grumbled.

“You'd be a challenge, no question about it,” he replied, his smirk still firmly in place. “In fact, if I had to comment, I'd say you're too much woman for my brother.”

“Now who's being insulting to Bobby?” she retorted. “Bobby can handle me.”

“Is that so? Then this ridiculous backup plan the two of you hatched was his idea? He talked you into it?”

She frowned at that. “No.”

Cord cupped his ear. “What was that? Did you say no?”

“It would never have worked if Bobby and I had got ten married ten years ago. He knew that,” she said defensively.

“But it will work now?”

“Yes.”

“Because you've gone round the world sowing all your wild oats, so to speak?”

“I didn't sow any oats, dammit. It wasn't about that,” she said, feeling her temper kick in.

“Oh, that's right. You had to go and make a name for yourself. You wanted to be somebody special. And now what? You're ready to settle down and be my brother's wife and let him count his lucky stars every night that you deigned to come back to him?”

“Why are you so determined to put an ugly spin on this? I don't have to listen to you question my motives,” she declared, whipping around to go.

“Maybe you should listen,” he said, a quiet command in his voice that compelled her to turn back. “This is all about you, Dinah. I'd wager you haven't spent more than a minute or two thinking about what might be best for Bobby. You probably sat over there in Afghanistan and got some bee in your bonnet about your own mortality and decided it was time to come home and play it safe. Bobby's not the love of your life. He's just convenient.”

Because there was an undeniable element of truth to his stinging words, Dinah flinched. She searched for a ready comeback to put him in his place, but there wasn't one.

Just then the wind kicked up. Black clouds rolled in the sky above them. Dinah could all but feel the stir of electricity in the air.

“Looks like we're in for a storm,” Cord noted without moving a muscle. “Run along, Dinah, before you get drenched. There's nothing for you here.”

She hated the patronizing tone in his voice as much as she hated his dismissal. She would have said so, too, then taken off, if a bolt of lightning hadn't split the sky just then, immediately followed by a crack of thunder.

Her brain told her this was nothing more than a good old-fashioned summer storm, the kind that hit hard, turned the hard-dried ground into rivers of mud, then passed on, leaving the air steamier than ever.

But her heart and her nerves took over her rational thought and she felt immediately transported back to Afghanistan where car bombs exploded and gunfire prevailed all around. She dropped to the ground, lay on her stomach, and heard her heart pounding so hard she thought it might explode, before the first drop of rain even fell from the sky. Humiliating whimpers escaped before she could stop them.

Two seconds later Cord was beside her, gathering her into his arms, holding her tight against all his solid strength and bare skin, murmuring soothing nonsense words as the storm raged around them. Dinah clung to him, no longer caring that he was the bane of her existence. She could hear the steady beat of his heart and her own pulse finally slowed to match it. Her terror eased, but still she clung, his skin warm and slick beneath her fingers.