The Gift (8 page)

Mark was gradually recovering—so Pearl claimed—from the disappointment that only neighboring children who lived on
this
side of the washed-out bridge would be able to attend his party.

This would be a first—Beth Dearborn at a twelve-year-old’s birthday party. Hell, she’d never even had a birthday party of her own. Sam was the only kid who’d ever had anything to do with “weird Beth.” She chuckled and rolled her shoulders. Of course, Sam was every bit as strange as his cousin.

Beth reached the bottom step and froze. Balloons, pretzels, confetti, and God knew what else flew
around the formerly immaculate parlor. She ran a quick head count and came up with five boys in addition to Mark. Grace sat quietly at a table draped with bright yellow paper.

And Beth thought life as a homicide detective had been dangerous.

“They’ve got to be kidding,” she muttered. But this party was her opportunity to meet some of the women whose names were on the list Ty had given her. Lorilee’s friends and her parents would be here, which meant Beth had to suck it up and make nice.

Where were all the parents? This mob definitely needed supervision. She swept the room with a detective’s gaze, realizing all the adults had wisely retreated.

Well, hell. Where did that leave her? Stranded here with the inmates? Since the only way she knew out of the parlor was through the foyer…

No, there was another way. She squinted through the floating confetti and spotted the archway she’d seen Sarah emerge from last night carrying cocoa. Relieved, she headed in that direction, through an alcove, but stopped short of the kitchen.

Because there wasn’t room for her there. Every square inch of floor space was occupied by a human form. Mothers of every shape and size scurried around, filling plates with food as Pearl sliced pizza and Ty poured root beer into plastic cups. He spotted her and grabbed her wrist, dragging her into the melee.

“Make yourself useful.” He handed her a tray filled with cups. “Take these out to the kids.”

Her eyes widened. “Have you been out there in the last few minutes?”

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

“Sarah, take over here?” he asked his oldest child, who was clearly trying to fit in with the older women.

Poor kid. Beth struggled against the urge to rescue the girl from a life of mediocrity. She’d already shown she had potential, and then some.

“Beth and I are going to bring peace to the natives before any more food leaves the kitchen.”

“Good luck,” Pearl warned. The woman smiled, despite looking more than a little harried. “The grandparents will be here any minute.”

“Ah, hell—er, good,” Ty muttered as he steered Beth back through the semisacred archway.

“Grandparents that bad?” she asked, certain he hadn’t meant for his words to be overheard.

He chuckled. “Yes and no.”

She tried to ignore the warmth of his hand on her elbow, and wondered if he realized he hadn’t released her even after they reached the parlor.

“Payday on Saturday night in old Dodge City couldn’t have been this hazardous,” he said.

“At least they aren’t armed.” She glanced down at his hand on her elbow, then up at his face.

“Thank God for small favors.” He met her gaze and she watched a muscle in his jaw twitch. His Adam’s apple traveled the length of his throat, and he licked his lips. His eyes darkened from blue-green to cobalt, and he leaned closer.

Surely he wasn’t going to kiss her here. Not that she would try to stop him. Would she? His warm breath fanned her cheek as he held her gaze. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Even the madness around them seemed to fade.

His grip on her arm tightened slightly, and his nostrils flared. She sensed the battle waging inside him—should he or shouldn’t he? Damned if he did and damned if he didn’t? Oh, she knew the feeling well.

Her body warmed in anticipation. She leaned closer. Wanting. Needing. Enough of this self-control, dammit. Maybe this wasn’t the time or the place for a first kiss, but she
wanted
this.

Needed it…

Clearly, so did he. The air between them felt charged like last night’s lightning. They would be good together. Damn good. Sex with Ty Malone had
multiple orgasm
written all over it.

The mere thought sent a molten flood of moisture and warmth coursing through her. Beth swallowed hard. And waited. Ty suddenly shook himself, pulled back, and dropped her elbow, the moment lost. She blinked, gathering what remained of her wits.
Damn.

What had come over her? It wasn’t like her to become so engrossed in a man that she lost track of what was going on around her.

His gaze dropped to the backpack slung over her shoulder, clearly trying to change the subject to anything except what was uppermost in both their minds. “You wear that thing everywhere?”

She nodded once, trying to capture her equilibrium along with her bearings. “Pretty much.”

He gave her a crooked grin, then put two fingers between his lips and produced an ear-splitting whistle. Every hell-raiser in the room froze to stare in total silence.

“Incredible,” she whispered.

“Works every time,” Ty said with a wink.

The confetti gradually settled to the floor. “If you boys expect any grub—especially
cake
—you’ll go outside and run five laps around the house, and then I expect you to be sitting at that table with angelic expressions when your mommas enter the room. Got it?”

They scrambled over each other to the door, while Grace still sat waiting like a good little girl.

Maybe too good, Beth realized, remembering Grace’s earlier behavior in her room. Poor kid. Losing a mother at such a young age had to have some kind of serious impact on a girl.

Whether that mother had left of her own free will or not.

There you go, Dearborn—back to work. You’re on the job. That’s the ticket.
Maybe remembering that would keep her mind off Ty’s almost-kiss. And keep her from wondering why, why,
why
he hadn’t followed through…

She shot Ty a glance from the corner of her eye. Damn. He even looked great while setting a frigging table. Did the man ever look bad? Last night, when he’d shown up after the storm, with his hair messy and his clothes soaked and soiled, he’d looked good enough to eat.

And now…clean-shaven, dressed for his son’s birthday party, he looked good enough to eat.
Mine. Better than cake.

Oooookay.
Enough of that. Back to the task at hand. Forks on the left. Right? When was the last time Beth Dearborn had set a table?

“Cat got your tongue?”

Ty’s voice stroked her already-scrambled hormones.
She suppressed a shudder and looked up to meet his gaze. Why couldn’t the man ugly himself up just a little?

“Cat? You have a cat?” she hedged.

One corner of his mouth quirked upward, and he shook his head slowly. “Only in the barn.” He sighed and dropped the napkins on the table. “The little monsters will only stay outside for a few minutes. All hell will break loose in here again any second. Your headache all gone now?”

“Good as new.” She smiled and licked her lips, wishing this guy didn’t make her feel so damned giddy. A seasoned pro like her shouldn’t feel like a silly schoolgirl. Yet Ty Malone reduced her to little better than a mass of walking, breathing hormones without even touching her.

She simply
wanted
the man. Or maybe it had been too long since she’d been laid. Who the hell knew for sure?

“Should I make myself scarce?” she asked. “Go upstairs and work in Lorilee’s study, maybe?”

Ty shrugged. “Some of those women whose names are on the list I gave you will be here today.”

“Right.” She knew that, but right now escape seemed safer. Still, Beth Dearborn didn’t run away, and the sooner she solved this case, the sooner she could leave Brubaker, Ty Malone, and the resident ghost.

She drew a shaky breath. “Guess my work today is down here where the action is, then.”

The swinging doors opened, and two mothers came through carrying trays filled with fried chicken. The spicy aroma wafted through the room, triggering a rumble from Beth’s belly.

“Miss breakfast?” Ty teased with a wink.

Beth didn’t bother telling him she’d been too busy entertaining two of his children this morning to worry about food. “Something like that.”

“You’re going to need all your strength before this is over.”

The look he gave her had double entendre written all over it. Beth took a step back. She was in bad shape. All this guy had to do was look at her, and she was a puddle of want and need and hormones.

“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat as the women cast her covert glances before returning to the kitchen. “Betcha I’m the talk of the town about now.”

Ty chuckled. “That’s one bet I’m not taking. Odds are against me.”

“Daddy?” Grace interrupted.

Beth had almost forgotten about the quiet little girl, but there she was, standing beside her father. “May I go help Pearl in the kitchen?”

“Sure, kiddo. Go for it.”

They both stared after the girl as she disappeared through the swinging door.

“She’s a sweet kid,” Beth said.

Ty released a long, slow breath. “They all are. I worry about them.”

She nodded, and wandered to the window overlooking the valley. It looked so peaceful now, nothing like last night. Her car sat where she’d left it, but the door was now closed and the lights off, no thanks to her.

She rolled her shoulders and clenched her fists. Her stomach tightened into a knot that had nothing to do with lack of food, and everything to do with the proximity of the man standing so close.

She half turned to face him. He’d almost kissed her. She knew it as well as she knew her own face in the mirror. Why hadn’t he? A knowing smile tugged at her lips. Probably for the same reason she didn’t grab him by the hand and drag him upstairs to have her way with him right now.

Okay, so he hadn’t kissed her because the kids were in the room. Now they weren’t. She drew a deep breath.

Maybe Ty Malone needed a little encouragement.

For crap’s sake! I almost kissed the woman right here in front of the kids.

Ty busied himself straightening some of the pandemonium before the boys’ mothers saw it, knowing his efforts would be inadequate, but still better than nothing. At least Pearl would never know about the pretzels in the aquarium. He’d managed to scoop what the fish hadn’t eaten out quick enough. Only time would tell if they’d live to tattle about it.

What the hell had come over him, leaning toward Beth that way? And—dammit all to hell—he grew hot and hard all over just thinking about how close he’d come to…to…His collar tightened around his throat, and his jeans tugged sensitive anatomy in a particularly uncomfortable, potentially embarrassing way.

He drew a deep breath or three and lined up the eating utensils the way Beth had placed them earlier—or guessed at it anyway. At least the kids hadn’t barged back inside yet. Thank God for small favors.

Beth was busy removing pretzels, chips, and confetti from the furniture. Good idea. The grandparents and parents would need places to sit while Mark
opened the loot. He gave her a thumbs-up gesture and her cheeks reddened, even as she scowled. What a confounding woman. She blew hot and cold quicker than springtime in Tennessee. One thing he knew for sure: a man would never be bored with a woman like Beth Dearborn in his life.

He stiffened and gnawed the inside of his cheek. Not that he’d been bored with Lorilee, of course. Guilt pressed down on him. Where the hell had that come from? He shifted and cleared his throat.

“Break’s over,” Beth said over the thunder of sneakers and boots in the foyer.

“Stampede coming.” Chaperones were probably a good thing about now, he decided. They would help remind him to keep his hands—and other things—to himself. He glanced at the way the buttons of her white blouse strained against her breasts as she leaned across the table to right an overturned cup.

Maybe…

Behave yourself, Malone.
He was acting like a horny teenager instead of a responsible adult and father.

The boys gathered around the righted tables, diving into chip bowls again, leaving trails of crumbs across the yellow tablecloths. “Right back where we started,” he muttered.

“Pretty much.” Was that humor or exasperation in Beth’s voice? He looked at her and saw mischief dancing in her hazel eyes. Why that pleased him, he wasn’t sure, and he sure as hell didn’t want to examine it now.

“What time will Grandpa get here?” Mark asked from his side, rubbing his hands together while wearing a greedy, eager grin.

Ty couldn’t help but return his son’s infectious smile, thankful to have his son to anchor him back in reality. He rested his hand on Mark’s bony twelve-year-old shoulder.

Lorilee’s dad still doted on the kids. Spoiled them rotten, when he wasn’t busy trying to mold them into his own image—at least as much as his young wife would allow. She only tolerated the kids in moderation. “I expect them anytime now.”

“Them? Oh.” Mark slouched a little.

“You didn’t expect Grandma Ruby to miss your birthday party.” Ty ruffled his son’s shaggy dark hair.
Boy could use a haircut.
“Did you?”

“I s’pose not.”

“ ‘Grandma Ruby’?” Beth echoed.

He didn’t realize she’d come over to the table until she spoke. “Lorilee’s stepmother. Her daddy remarried a few years after Lorilee and I got hitched.”

“Ah.” Beth slid her backpack off her shoulder and removed her notepad from yesterday, scribbled a few lines. “Thanks.”

Ty chuckled and shook his head. The doorbell rang and the mothers, along with Grace, Pearl, and Sarah, all started into the room, chattering away. “Lord, give us strength,” he prayed.

The boys and even Grace all giggled. Young fools—they actually thought he was kidding.

He met Beth’s gaze and she mouthed an
amen,
but he saw the corners of her mouth twitching. Heh. He figured her for about five minutes with this crew. Ten, tops.

With a sigh, he headed toward the sound of Pearl’s voice in the foyer as she greeted Bill and Ruby Lee
Brubaker. Cecil had found some urgent chore or another to delay his arrival—smart man—leaving Ty the only adult male present, other than his father-in-law.

“Wilson over at the hotel gave me a call yesterday,” Bill said as he passed his Stetson to Pearl. “Said there’s a lady insurance investigator in town askin’ around ‘bout Lorilee. You know anything a—”

“Good to see you, Bill,” Ty interrupted, pounding his father-in-law on the back in greeting.
Wilson’s been a busy old fart.
“You should get over more often. The kids always enjoy your visits.”
Even if they generally give me indigestion.

“That boy of yours needs to learn about running a bigger spread. Send him over for the summer, once school’s out.”

Ty avoided his father-in-law’s all-too-familiar dig about how much smaller his farming operation was than Brubaker’s. How many times had the old man tried to coerce and shame him into folding his farm into the larger family spread? But Ty and Lorilee had worked too long and hard to build this place, and he wasn’t about to let it be swallowed up by a power-hungry old man.

“Ruby Lee, I swear you look younger every time I see you,” Ty said, bending down to kiss the petite redhead’s cheek. And she did look overtly younger. Hadn’t Pearl mentioned a lift or tuck or something? The discreet pinch his housekeeper delivered to his rib cage was answer enough. “Come on into the parlor. The natives are getting restless.”

“Is it true about the investigator, Ty?” Ruby Lee asked, batting her heavily made-up eyes.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s true.”

“Dunno why you couldn’t leave well enough alone,” Brubaker muttered. “Leave well enough alone, and let this matter rest in peace.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do, sir,” Ty said, clenching his teeth. It was a wonder he hadn’t worn them down to nubs by now. “This is a birthday party. Okay with you two if we change the subject?”

“Sure, sure.” Bill appeared somewhat chagrined. He heaved a heavy sigh, patted Ty on the shoulder, then headed into the parlor. The kids greeted him loudly. The old man might be greedy and annoying, but he was a much-loved and loving grandfather, and had been a doting father to Lorilee. Ty always tried to remind himself that her disappearance had hurt Bill as much as it had him.

“Maybe the washed-out bridge will send that investigator packing her way back from where she come,” Ruby Lee said. “You think?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that.” Ty cleared his throat. “Let’s get to the party before the hellions tear the house apart.”

“What a plan,” Pearl muttered.

Ty met his housekeeper’s gaze, and the woman rolled her eyes behind Ruby Lee’s back. “That husband of yours is a coward, Pearl Montgomery,” he whispered as they entered the parlor.

“No, I ain’t either, Ty Malone,” Cecil said from behind them. “I married this feisty old woman, didn’t I?”

“Point taken.”

Pearl laughed as her husband leaned down to kiss her cheek. Then she looked up at Ty and asked, “Why
didn’t you tell Mr. and Mrs. Brubaker about Beth Dearborn bein’ here, Ty Malone?”

Good question. He’d been about to, but something had stopped him. “I’m not sure. Guess I didn’t have enough time.”

“Hmm…” Pearl seemed unconvinced.

Frankly, so was he.

“Don’t matter now,” Cecil said. “Reckon they’re about to find out for themselves.”

Ty followed the direction of Cecil’s gaze. Beth had her trusty notepad in hand and was heading straight toward Bill Brubaker.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. The woman could at least wait for an introduction.

Cecil rested his large hand on Ty’s shoulder and chuckled. “I got me a feelin’ there’s nothin’ holy about it, son.”

The theme song from
Dallas
played in Beth’s head as she watched William Brubaker lumber into the room. “Larger than life” was an apt description for the Southern landholder, after whose ancestors the town had been named. Tall and broad through the shoulders, he carried himself like a far-younger man. Years of working outside had worn his skin to a leathery gold that contrasted handsomely with his thick head of silver hair.

So this is Daddy Warbucks.

Beth intended to waste no time getting to know Lorilee’s father. With her notepad and pen in hand, she wound her way between mothers whose names she didn’t yet know—and who stared at her with more-than-passing curiosity—and headed straight toward her target.

The bouncing redhead who bobbled in behind him couldn’t be “Grandma Ruby.” Could she? Beth hesitated a second too long, considering that possibility. Just long enough for Ty to intercept her on the five-yard line.

He gave her elbow a squeeze. A hard one. “Now, now,” he said for her ears only. “At least wait for a proper introduction before you unsheathe your claws.”

If they’d been alone, she would have demonstrated the precise move she’d used to earn her second-degree black belt. Instead, she hissed. Quietly.

“This is a birthday party.” He leaned closer. “Remember?”

With a sigh, she slipped the notepad into the pocket of her denim skirt, where it would be handy. “I promise to behave, if you
promise
to introduce me to people.”

He gave a curt nod. “I said I would, and I will. Thank you for behaving.”

“Sure. No problem.” Damn, but the man had more charisma—or something—than the law should allow. And she was a big girl. She should be way beyond this.

Get over it, Dearborn.
With great effort, she turned her attention back to Lorilee’s big daddy.

“Twelve years old, Mark,” the older man said boisterously. “That’s almost a man.”

“Oh, boy,” Ty muttered through a sigh.

Even though she’d never been a parent, Beth somehow understood. “Yeah…”

“He’s center stage now, and there’s no stopping him,” Cecil said from behind them.

“I’m afraid so,” Ty confirmed.

Pearl had disappeared into the kitchen again. Sarah stood beside her grandfather, her pretty face pale, her eyes wide. Beth made a mental note to spend more time with the oldest Malone child. After all, she was the one who’d called Beth here last night, and—according to Ty—had asked to have her mother declared legally dead.

“Let’s eat this chicken before it gets cold,” Pearl suggested, emerging again from the kitchen. “Then we’ll get to the cake and, oh, maybe some presents, if somebody insists.”

Timing was everything, and Pearl Montgomery obviously knew exactly how to keep peace in this family. Beth made a mental note to stay on the woman’s good side. She could be a great ally in this investigation, but she could just as easily become an impediment, if she so chose. The woman had power and influence, whether or not she realized it.

Beth had a hunch Pearl knew it, but had too much class and genuine affection for her employer to use it casually. No, Pearl was smarter than that. And so was Beth.

“Better grab some food before it’s all gone.” Ty gestured toward the buffet table and grinned. “Mark picked the menu. Pizza and fried chicken.”

Ty passed her an empty plate. “Once folks settle down and start eating, I’ll introduce you to a few people.” He narrowed his eyes and added, “Remember, this is a birthday party.”

“Trust me, I heard you the first time.” So much for sexual tension. He’d certainly put her back in her place, and that’s exactly where she needed to keep her head. On her job and off her damned hormones.

Beth grabbed a drumstick and a slice of cheese pizza, silently blessing Pearl for managing to add salad to Mark’s menu. It seemed unlikely the fresh greens and vinaigrette had been a twelve-year-old’s idea.

She felt someone watching her as she poured iced tea into a glass, but forced herself not to look up to identify the culprit. Slowly, she brought the glass to her lips and leveled her gaze over its rim.

Grandma Ruby’s stare was icier than the tea. Interesting. The woman was obviously curious about Beth, and why shouldn’t she be? Everybody else here was a known entity.

“So, did you wash in with the storm last night?” a silky voice asked from right beside Beth.

She’d been watching the redheaded grandma and hadn’t noticed the woman beside her in the buffet line. “Something like that,” Beth said with a shrug. “I was on this side of the bridge when it washed out. I’m Beth Dearborn.”

The blonde looked over Beth’s attire with open curiosity. “Lucy Wilkes. The twins are mine.” She inclined her head toward the party table. “You aren’t from these parts.”

It wasn’t a question. Beth knew hostility when she heard it. This Southern flower was no shrinking violet by any stretch. “No, I’m here on business.”

“Business?”

So how much did Ty want these people to know about this investigation? Beth rocked back on her heels and blew a wayward curl away from her mouth. Right now she just wanted to sit down somewhere and eat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to—”

“We all heard there was an insurance investigator in town yesterday,” Lucy persisted.

Beth’s opportunity for a graceful escape disappeared. Where the hell was Mr. Remember-This-Is-A-Birthday-Party now?

“How about that?” Beth took another sip of tea and looked around the room. A few gazes riveted on her and Lucy, but most people were busy with their plates and conversation.

“So?”

“So…what?” Beth decided playing dumb was the better part of valor. “Really, I’m half starved, so I’m just going over here to—”

“Are you her?”

One of those…
Lucy Wilkes had busybody written all over her. Beth narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line. She wished her hands weren’t full so she could clench her fists for effect. “Guilty as charged. Happy now?”

The woman had the audacity to blink in feigned innocence, as if she hadn’t coerced Beth into confessing her identity. At least Lucy finally slunk away and left Beth to her rapidly cooling chicken and pizza.

She found a vacant seat in the corner and settled down to eat, repositioning her backpack. Later, she would lock her weapon in the trunk of her car, so she wouldn’t have to worry about the children accidentally getting their hands on it. After all, the likelihood of her needing it here wasn’t high.