One Husband Needed. Jeanne AllanЧитать онлайн книгу.
at her she’s still grieving. I’m wondering if I know Russ as well as I thought I did.”
Hearing the troubled doubts in Mary’s voice, Worth gave his mother a reassuring smile. “You’ve said yourself Russ is better with cows and horses than people. Maybe he’s trying to remind Elizabeth that a living son takes precedence over a deceased husband. Doing it badly doesn’t mean Russ isn’t trying to help Elizabeth through her grief.”
“You really think that’s it?” she asked hopefully.
“I think he’s sitting out in the guest cabin fretting about what kind of father he is and worrying that he’s blown the chance to marry the world’s most wonderful woman, and he doesn’t have a clue how to fix things.”
Mary smiled self-consciously. “Maybe I should go out and give him a few clues.”
“Maybe you should.”
Worth waited a few minutes, grabbed an afghan from the back of the sofa, and sauntered out to the front porch.
Elizabeth sat curled up in the old, double porch swing. Worth handed her the afghan. “It gets chilly here at night.” He sat beside her.
She scooted as far away from him as the swing permitted. “What do you want?”
“I saw you sneak past the living room while I was talking to my mother. You should have joined us, Red. You might have been able to stop me from repairing the damage you did today.”
“Damage I did?” she asked blankly.
“Setting Russ up to look like a jerk.”
“He does that all by himself.”
“I thought we’d agreed this morning that you aren’t going to try and stop the wedding.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I did not come to Colorado to stop Russ from marrying your mother.”
“Why did you come?”
“I came because Russ asked me to. Why do you find that so difficult to believe?”
Her claim would be easier to believe if it hadn’t taken her so long to come up with it. “You came even though he didn’t go to your husband’s funeral?”
After a quick startled movement, Elizabeth asked thinly, “Russ told you?”
“He said you’re still mad at him.”
With slow, painstaking precision, Elizabeth adjusted the afghan, then pulled it tighter around her before saying in a less than credible voice, “I’m not mad at him.”
“I can see what a warm and loving relationship you two have.”
His sarcastic words hung in the air. Watching some bats swoop down to catch night-flying bugs around the porch light, Worth waited. Familiar night sounds filtered through the night. None loud enough to drown out the sound of Elizabeth breathing or the creaking of the swing chains as he propelled the swing back and forth.
When Elizabeth finally spoke, her voice was strained. “My relationship with Russ is none of your business.”
“It wouldn’t be, Red, if you hadn’t made it my business.”
She heaved a loud, long-suffering sigh. It didn’t come close to what his sisters could do when they wanted him to know how aggravating they thought him. “If you had half a brain in your head,” Elizabeth said, “you’d know I did not come to Aspen to stop Russ from getting married. Why shouldn’t he get married again? My mother is happily remarried. She has been for years. I didn’t try and stop her wedding.”
“Maybe you were too young.”
“And maybe you’re an idiot.”
“I suppose that’s always a possibility.”
“But you doubt it.”
He gave her a slow once-over in the light shining through the living room window. Ordinarily he liked a woman who didn’t back down. But not when that woman was intent on revenge. “I doubt it.”
“It must be nice to be so smug and self-assured. Something you learned at your father’s knee?”
“Nope.” Because he knew it would annoy her, he laid his arm along the back of the swing and gave her a mocking grin.
“Of course not. I’m sure your father was perfect.”
“Beau was a lot of things, but he’d have been the first to admit perfect wasn’t one of them.”
“It’s hard to believe a man related to you could be humble.”
“Humility has nothing to do with it. Beau was honest. He knew his strengths and weaknesses.”
“Which were?”
“He was a rodeo cowboy with a talent for riding bulls and charming ladies.” Worth paused. “And a lousy father and husband. After I was born, Mom stayed here on the ranch and Beau dropped by whenever he needed a place to recuperate after an injury. Once he healed, it was off to the bright lights again, twice leaving Mom pregnant.”
“Don’t you mean three times?” Elizabeth asked,
Worth shook his head. “Beau picked up women like a dog picks up burrs. Greeley’s the result of a fling Beau had with a bartender in Greeley. After the woman gave birth, she drove here straight from the hospital and dumped Greeley off on Mom.”
“Just like that? What did Mary do?”
He heard the horror in her voice and guessed she was thinking of her son. “Mom raised Greeley,” he said. “Loved her. Greeley is one of us. A Lassiter. Lassiters take care of Lassiters.” Worth could almost see Elizabeth processing the information as she looked at him, her eyes wide.
“Now I understand. It’s called transference or something,” she said slowly. “You don’t want your mother to remarry, but you’re filled with guilt about feeling that way, so you’ve assigned your negative feelings to me.” His face must have looked as dumbfounded as he felt, because she continued, “I suppose you’ve considered yourself the man of the family for a long time. You don’t want another man moving into your territory and taking over from you.”
Worth laughed. “If you’re going to try and confuse the issue with psychobabble, you at least ought to come up with something halfway plausible.”
“I was trying to sympathize with you,” she snapped.
He gave a disgusted snort. “Good try, but I’m not so easily fooled. Or sidetracked. Your resentment of Russ sticks out a country mile.”
“I do not resent him,” she said, glaring at him. “And I’m not going to sit here and listen to any more of your paranoid accusations.”
He closed his fingers around the clump of hair at the back of her head before she could stand. “We haven’t finished our little chat.”
“I’ve finished.”
“Then you can listen, but first…I hate your hair skewered to the back of your head like that.”
“I don’t care if…What are you doing? Stop that.”
He imprisoned the hand swatting at his hand. “I’ve been wanting to do this from the minute I saw you. Here.” Opening the hand he held, he dropped the hairpins in her palm. “You don’t have to look as if you have one foot in the grave just because your husband died.”
A stark silence met his words before she said in a shaken voice, “That’s a cruel thing to say.”
“It’s honest.” He locked eyes with hers. “Your husband died, and I’m sorry for what you’re suffering, but you have a child to raise. It’s time for you to think about what’s in his best interests and quit being self-indulgent. How can you take care of your son if you don’t take care of yourself?