Best Kept Secrets(23)

As he laughed, the wind lifted his fair hair. His was a

much lighter blond than Reede's, and it was finer, better

controlled. "That must have made for some fascinating reading."

"It did. You and Reede were cocaptains of the team."

"Hell, yeah." He crooked his arm as though showing off

muscled biceps. "We thought we were invincible, real hot

snot."

"Her junior year, my mother was the homecoming queen.

There was a picture of Reede kissing her during halftime."

Studying that photograph had made Alex feel very strange.

She'd never seen it before. For some reason her grandmother

had chosen not to keep it among her many others, perhaps

because Reede Lambert's kiss had been audacious, full-fledged,

and proprietary.

Undaunted by the cheering crowd in the stadium, his arm

had been curved possessively around Celina's waist. The

pressure of the kiss had angled her head back. He looked like

a conqueror, especially in the muddy football uniform, holding

his battle-scarred helmet in his other hand.



After staring at the photograph for several minutes, she

began to feel that kiss herself.

Coming back to the present, she said, "You didn't become

friends with my mother and Reede until later on, isn't that

right?"

Junior pulled up a blade of grass and began to shred it

between his fingers. "Ninth grade. Until then, I attended a

boarding school in Dallas."

"By choice?"

"By my mother's choice. She didn't want me picking up

what she considered to be undesirable habits from the kids

of oil-field workers and cowhands, so I was packed off to

Dallas every fall.

"My schooling was a bone of contention between Mother

and Dad for years. Finally, when I was about to go into high

school, he put his foot down and said it was time I learned

there were other kinds of people besides the 'pale little

bastards'--and that's a quote--at prep school. He enrolled

me in Purcell High School that fall."

"How did your mother take it?"

"Not too well. She was definitely against it, but there

wasn't much she could do about it. Where she came from--"

"Which is?"

"Kentucky. In his prime, her old man was one of the most

successful breeders in the country. He'd bred a Triple Crown

winner."

"How did she meet your father?"

"Angus went to Kentucky to buy a mare. He brought it

and my mother back with him. She's lived here for over forty

years, but she still clings to Presley family traditions, one of

which was to send all the offspring to private school.

"Not only did Dad enroll me at Purcell, he also insisted

that I go out for the football team. The coach wasn't too keen

on the idea, but Dad bribed him by promising to buy new

uniforms for the team if he'd take me on, so . . ."

"Angus Minton makes things happen "

"You can bank on that," Junior said with a laugh. "He

never takes no for an answer, so I went out for football. I'd



never even touched one, and I nearly got the crap kicked out

of me that first day of practice. The other boys naturally

resented me."

"For being the richest kid in town?"

"It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it," he said

with an engaging grin.' 'Anyway, when I got home that night,

I told Dad that I hated Purcell High School and football with

equal amounts of passion. I told him I preferred pale little

bastards any day of the week over bullies like Reede Lambert."

"What happened?"

"Mother cried herself sick. Dad cussed himself into a

frenzy. Then he marched me outside and threw footballs at

me till my hands bled from catching them."

"That's terrible!"

"Not really. He had my interests at heart. He knew, even

if I didn't, that out here, you've got to play, eat, drink, and

sleep football. Say," he interjected, "I'm rambling on.

Aren't you cold?"

"No."

"Sure?"

"Yes."

"Want to go?"

"No, I want you to keep rambling."

"Is this a formal interrogation?"

"Conversation," she replied, tartly enough to make him

grin.

"At least put your hands in your pockets." Taking one of

her hands in each of his, he guided them to the deep pockets

of her coat, tucked them inside, and patted them into place.

Alex resented the intimate gesture. It was presumptuous of

him and, considering the circumstances, highly inappropriate.

"I gather you made the football team," she said, deciding

to ignore his touch.

"Junior varsity, yes, but I didn't play, not in a single