Solution: Marriage. Barbara BenedictЧитать онлайн книгу.
to save him, knowing your father’s spite was to blame.”
“Wait a minute, I’m not sure you can call it spite—”
“I call it as I see it, Luke.” She cut in before he could utter one more syllable in defense of his father. “Ben hounded him to death. All because my grandmother chose Gramps and Ben couldn’t handle it. You’d think he would be content with owning half this town, but no, he had to go and take away the one thing of value Gramps had left. Don’t tell me you don’t know that he stole the farm out from under us.”
His blank expression told her he didn’t know about the rather nasty battle they’d fought with his father. “I never heard anything about Ben taking your farm.”
“Gramps took out a mortgage years ago and neglected to tell me,” she went on. “Your father knew about it though. He bought out the savings-and-loan that held the deed. Within a month of the takeover, they served our eviction notice, which was what started Gramps on his harassment campaign. Ben threatened to build a factory there, you see, some smoke-belching monstrosity guaranteed to ruin the land. It is, I believe, his version of having the last laugh.”
“I swear, I didn’t know, Cal.”
“But you do now. And I hope you can understand why I might feel indisposed to trust anyone bearing the Parker name.”
“I’m not my father,” he said quietly. He stared at her a long moment, visibly pleading with her to believe him. “Your beef is with Ben, not me. And quite frankly I can’t think of a better way at getting back at him than by agreeing to this marriage.”
In that much, Luke had a point. It would do her battered heart good to see Ben’s face when his son brought Zeke’s granddaughter to his big old fancy house and introduced her as his wife.
Still, she thought in a flash of sanity, it would be remarkably shortsighted to marry for revenge. Marriage to Luke, even in name only, would be like making a pact with the devil. Short-term, she’d get what she wanted, but in the end there’d be a helluva price to pay.
As if he were indeed Lucifer, Luke didn’t leave the tempting at that. “The fall semester starts in a month. We can get you signed up for some classes right away.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” she said slowly, wondering when careless, take-it-as-it-comes Luke Parker had gotten so methodical. “You must really be serious.”
He took her by the arms, forcing her closer. “Never more so. C’mon Callie, what’s left to consider? No matter how you look at it, we both stand to gain.”
Watching him as he talked, her mind flashed back to that long-ago summer when she’d swallowed each and every word his sweet, coaxing lips had uttered. She’d given herself completely to the youth he’d been then—her hopes, her sympathy, her trust. Even now she could feel a softening as the well-remembered yearnings rose up from deep inside her.
She caught herself up short. What was she thinking? Insanity, to even listen to this man.
“Help me out here,” Luke continued, applying gentle pressure to her arms, “and I promise you won’t regret it.”
Something snapped inside her, turning her insides into cold, hard steel. “You’re real glib, Luke Parker. We’ve been down this road, only now I know better than to listen. It’s all just words to you. You use them like water but you give them no meaning, no substance.” She poked a finger into his chest. “Around here, around me, don’t you dare go making promises you don’t mean to keep.”
He grabbed her hand, encircling it with his own and holding it tight against his chest. “We’ve got this past and we can’t hide from it. Neither of us.” He towered over her, his gaze just as heated, seeming more than ever a stranger. “But where’s the sense in letting it mess up our futures? I’m offering you and your son a chance at a better life, Cal. What will it take to get you to say yes?”
What would it take?
Money, schooling, security—no question that these things might tempt her, but if she couldn’t get them herself, she could learn to do without. In truth, there was only one thing she craved, only one thing beyond her reach, and that was the house she’d grown up in. Generations of Magruders, laughing and loving and working together—that was the legacy she wanted so desperately to pass down to her son.
“All I want,” she answered without hesitation, “is my family’s farm.”
He stared at her a long moment, then shook his head. “What you’re asking is close to impossible. There are two things Ben never does. One is to give in to my requests, and the other is to back down from a fight with a Magruder.”
She pulled her hand free. “Then I guess we’ve got nothing more to talk about.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.” This time he took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. He seemed tense and grim, a far cry from the grinning youth who always used charm to get what he wanted. “Marry me, Callie, and I promise I’ll find some way to get your farm for you.”
For an instant she could almost believe him. He seemed so sure of himself, so sincere, but then, so much of what he’d seemed in the past had proved to be mere illusion. She’d be a fool to trust in his good intentions.
Still, in the long run, did it matter? If she considered this—and insanely enough, she was considering this—Luke’s motives needn’t concern her at all, not as long as she got what she needed out of the bargain, the wherewithal to buy the farm back herself. This would be a business arrangement—nothing less, nothing more. As he’d pointed out, she wouldn’t be taking his money, she’d be earning it. On her terms.
“If I agree to this,” she started slowly, “I’d have certain conditions.”
He released her arms, eyeing her warily. “And those would be?”
“Well, for one thing, I want to make it clear that this will be a marriage in name only. No honeymoon, no sharing a bed.”
He raised a brow, but didn’t comment.
“Even so,” she went on, warming to the subject, “I’d still expect you to honor our vows as if they were real. No carousing with the boys and no sleeping around with other women. Not here in town. I won’t have me and my boy being the subject of Monday morning’s gossip.”
“Dammit Callie, you can’t expect me to be a monk for the rest of my life.”
“You’re right. I don’t expect any such thing from you. I’ve read the papers, Luke. And I’ve seen firsthand how you are with the ladies. Actually, what I was thinking is that it would be to both our advantage to set a time limit on this marriage.”
He stiffened. “A time limit?”
She could feel a slight breeze, stirring the warm air around them. It didn’t cool her down any, but it helped steel her resolve. “Yes, I think next August should be more than sufficient time.”
He narrowed his gaze, his expression far from pleased. “A year?”
“Let’s face it, Luke. If you can’t convince Ben to leave you alone by then, you’re not likely to ever convince him.”
“But I had in mind that—”
“Doesn’t really matter what you had in mind, Luke. If we do this, for once we’ll be doing things my way, not yours.”
Overhead Callie could hear the sighs as the Spanish moss stirred in the breeze. Could be a storm brewing, she thought inanely—both in the air and in the stranger glaring back at her. If it were at all physically possible, his eyes looked ready to spit.
She felt a sudden, strong need to stand her ground. “Those are my terms,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Take them or leave them.”
For a moment she thought he might just do that, take his ridiculous proposal