Last's Temptation Read online

Page 8


  Lily laughed. “Not usually. Their courtship tends to be fast and furious and right to the point. Except Mason,” she said with a sigh. “He’s the type to wear a woman’s patience to the bone.”

  Esme smiled. “I’ve met Mimi. She’s very sweet.”

  “And likely never going to land her man.” Lily shook her head. “Mason is the definition of elusive.”

  “I would have thought that of Last.”

  “No. Last is just waiting to find the right woman. He’s gotten slower with his romancing ever since he became a single father,” Lily said, snipping away at Esme’s tresses. “That little baby gets all his time these days.”

  Esme’s heart warmed. “He’s been very kind to my kids, too.”

  Lily nodded. “Last has wanted a big family since he was a child.”

  “He has a big family!”

  “Yes, but…” Lily hesitated. “I think he’d like to do things very differently from how he grew up.”

  “Oh.” Esme nodded. She completely understood. People always longed for the magic of their definition of family.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lily said suddenly. “Last wouldn’t have brought you here if he didn’t like you.”

  Actually that wasn’t true. Esme lowered her gaze. Last had “rescued” her, bringing her and the children there because he had a kind heart.

  She was determined to show him that she wasn’t the kind of woman he had to take care of. Helpless was not her way. “Tell me about these available houses that just need love and affection,” she said. “I need to find one as soon as possible.”

  “I NEED TO GO AWAY as soon as possible,” Last told Valentine as he took Annette from her. “I didn’t mean to return as soon as I did.”

  Valentine looked at him with surprise as she put some frosting eyes on bunny-shaped cookies. “Seems you have a reason to stay for a while.”

  “No,” Last said. “I have a reason to leave.” He kissed his daughter’s cheek. “Would it be helpful to you if I took Annette? If you’re in the mood for an extended honeymoon, that is.”

  Valentine nodded. “Actually Crockett and I still have some combining of our two town houses to do. You know he’s knocking down the wall. I’d feel better if I knew Annette wasn’t around during construction. I’d planned on asking Delilah and Mimi for help, but if you’re available—”

  “I am.” Last hugged his daughter. “We will go to Lonely Hearts Station for a rodeo and maybe some fishing. Maybe we should drive up to see Uncle Tex and Aunt Cissy and let you float on a raft in the center of a fishpond.”

  Valentine laughed. “They don’t live on a raft or a fishpond.”

  “Or perhaps we should go sip wine at the Turnberry Estate with Frisco Joe and Annabelle,” Last said, letting his daughter play with his hat. “The possibilities are endless.”

  Valentine looked at him. “What about the possibilities with Esme?”

  Last shrugged. “Nonexistent.”

  Valentine sighed. “Spoken like a true Jefferson bachelor. Down at the church bingo parlor, they’re taking bets on you.”

  “For what?”

  “Whether you become a father to three children in less than thirty days,” she said slyly.

  “Thirty days! Isn’t that a bit fast?”

  “You always have been. Wasn’t Fast Last one of your nicknames?” Valentine lifted her brows.

  “I’d have to get married and get a woman pregnant with twins,” he said, frowning. “But you’re broadly hinting that people think I’m going to marry Esme. Soon.”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” Last said, “I’m not.”

  “You sound very certain.”

  “Of course.” He kissed the dandelion softness of his daughter’s hair. “Esme understands that I’m cynical and jaded and not the marrying kind. Neither is she. She had plenty of offers right before she came here and turned them all down. What makes the betting boys think I’d have any better luck with her?” he asked. “Nope. Single I’m staying. And I like it that way,” he told Annette, who grinned at her daddy.

  Valentine frowned. “You don’t want to end up like Mason.”

  Last stopped grinning at his daughter. “What do you mean?”

  “Missing the greatest opportunity of your life.”

  “Why would that be Esme?” he asked. “She is hardwired for independence. Besides, think of the complications of combining two families.”

  “Jeffersons make all kinds of strange combinations all the time,” Valentine pointed out. “It always works out. It’s almost like they get better the more combining there is.”

  Last grinned. “I will not be swayed by your impassioned argument, my lady. The last time someone tried to talk me into marrying, they wanted me to marry you. Think of what a disaster that would have been! You’re far better off with my brother Crockett, who, by the way, seems happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

  “No, you and I would not have been good marital partners,” Valentine agreed, putting the cookies into a refrigerated case. “But then again, I like a man who appreciates a woman’s failings and her attributes.”

  He frowned. “I’m leaving now, as I sense an embedded lecture in that statement.”

  Valentine stood to look at him. “Could you be leaving behind a woman you’re just too stubborn to let yourself care about?”

  “No,” he said, kissing his daughter’s head. “I’m taking Annette with me. Goodbye.”

  He walked out of the bakery, delighted to get away from Valentine’s advice and to have his chubby little girl in his arms. She really was too sweet—he loved doting on her.

  Of course, he very much enjoyed Curtis and Amelia, too. Part of his fear about Esme was that he might get real attached to her kids and then she’d pull the rug out from under him. He wouldn’t be able to stand that. The reason the town menfolk were betting on his brood enlarging was because everyone knew he loved children and wanted a big family. Wasn’t he the one who’d pushed his brothers to increase the number of Jeffersons, starting with Frisco Joe’s courtship of Annabelle Turnberry and her sweet little baby?

  Once upon a time, Last had heard one of the town busybodies jokingly say that he was the next Maverick. Eventually, she’d said, Last will be the brother who has his own twelve.

  His toes had curled into his boots. Twelve? He didn’t have Mason’s grit, nor Maverick’s joy of life. It was too much, keeping eleven brothers in line. He’d always been the hub in the family’s completely bent wheel and he’d felt great responsibility for maintaining their shape. However, now he only had one child and he had no plans for more. He could relax and enjoy the daughter God had given him.

  Although Curtis and Amelia would be great kids for any father. Esme was just too tricky for Last. Frankly she scared him.

  Valentine tapped on his truck window, so he rolled it down. “You forgot Annette’s changing bag,” she said, passing it through the window. “And I figured it out. Esme scares you, like Mimi scares Mason. You think you want a sweet Annabelle or Katy, but Last,” she said with a grin, “your soul needs more adventure than that.”

  “Thank you for your wisdom,” he said, closing the window as she laughed at him. Disgruntled, he backed up his truck, just in time to see Esme, Curtis and Amelia emerge from the Union Junction salon.

  He nearly dropped his teeth. Esme was hotter than a pistol! What had they done to her hair? It was all flowing and shiny, and he could see her face better now. Curtis looked handsome with a little-boy cut, and Amelia swung newly straightened locks with bangs that skimmed her brows. They saw him and waved, and Last cursed the magic that the stylists’ scissors had wrought.

  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, comi
ng 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.

  Chapter Eight

  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 w
ere 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.