A Good Yarn (Blossom Street #2)(30)

When she didn’t hear any squabbling, she lowered the volume on her television.

Nothing.

Frowning, she rose and opened the door a crack. She heard Maverick’s rich baritone voice as he read animatedly and with emotion. He was good; she’d give him that. There wasn’t a sound from the youngsters. No doubt they were enthralled by the reading as much as the story.

In spite of what Aurora thought, Elise wanted her daughter to have a good relationship with her father. True, her feelings on the subject were mixed. Although Maverick had promptly paid child support and always kept in touch, he’d made no effort to be a constant part of their daughter’s life. She didn’t understand why he’d decided it was so important to make contact now.

Elise returned to her rocking chair and twenty minutes later she checked again, her ear at the door. When someone knocked, she nearly leaped out of her skin. With one hand over her startled heart, she opened the door to discover Maverick standing in the hallway.

She gasped. “The boys?” she managed to utter, expecting him to ask her advice on how to coax them to sleep.

“Out like the proverbial light,” he said with a shrug.

Impossible! Luke and John didn’t go down without a fight. It was part of their nightly ritual. She realized she was frowning again.

Maverick’s mouth twitched with a smile. “I read them one chapter and John wanted a second.”

She nodded. That was their usual pattern.

“The kid’s got a real dramatic streak,” he said.

Elise forced back a smile.

“He said ‘Grandpa, I beg of you, I beg of you.’”

“Did you give in?”

“Yes—but I made them promise they’d go right down, and they did.”

“Count your blessings.”

For a moment she was lost in him. Then, with a jolt of dismay, she recognized what she was doing. Resolutely, she lifted her chin and looked him square in the eyes. “Was there something you wanted?”

He hesitated, and she could see he was stifling a grin. He’d always been able to see straight through her. “Just to tell you good-night and that I enjoyed being with you again.”

Elise wanted to groan. How was it that a man she’d been divorced from for more than thirty-seven years still had power over her? She loathed her own weakness, loathed her inability to forget how much she’d loved him. “Th-ank you,” she managed, stumbling over the words.

To her astonishment, Maverick pressed his hand to her cheek, his touch soft. His blue eyes brightened with intensity. Elise’s knees felt as if they were about to buckle and her mouth fell open.

“You’ve always been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

Her heart hammering inside her chest, Elise stepped back, breaking the contact. Otherwise she didn’t know what she might have done…

“Good night,” she whispered and while she had the strength, she closed the door. Old feelings, it seemed, died hard. She reminded herself that she couldn’t relax her vigilance with this gambler she’d once married. Not for a minute. Not for even a second.

CHAPTER 12

BETHANNE HAMLIN

Bethanne’s meeting with Grant had been a week ago, and she was still so angry that she hadn’t slept an entire night since. The selfish bastard wasn’t willing to spend three hundred dollars on his son. Bethanne knew the reason. Grant didn’t have the courage to say it, but she knew.

This was payback. When Grant moved out of the house and in with Tiffany, their then-sixteen-year-old son had confronted his father and told him exactly what he thought of Grant’s behavior. Grant hadn’t taken kindly to Andrew’s honesty, and their relationship had been strained ever since.

“You okay, Mom?” Annie asked, entering the kitchen.

“Fine,” she snapped, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

Annie flopped down at the kitchen table beside Bethanne, who sat there with a cup of tea. “Thinking about Dad?”

She didn’t bother to deny it. “He’s been on my mind lately.”

“Mine too,” Annie admitted. “I can’t believe he’s still with her.”

Annie never mentioned Tiffany’s name. She was always her or the bitch. Her daughter’s own relationship with Grant was confused. Annie loved her father and had been close to him, and longed to be close once again, but she felt hurt and betrayed. She was also unsure where she stood with him. Grant gave her the minimum of attention and expected Annie to be the one to call him, which she did on occasion. But the brunt of her daughter’s anger was directed toward Tiffany because Annie believed the other woman had stolen Grant from his family. Bethanne didn’t take that anger lightly, especially after flipping through Annie’s journal, but she didn’t know what to do about it, either. She prayed that eventually her daughter’s bitterness would fade.

It was times like this that she missed her mother most. Martha Gibson had died suddenly of an aneurysm the year Annie was born, and Bethanne’s father had declined physically and emotionally after that. He lived in a retirement community in Arizona, but it was up to her to maintain contact.

“I think they might be getting married,” Annie murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Is that so?” Bethanne tried not to reveal any interest, but her head was spinning. If anyone in the family was likely to learn of Grant’s wedding plans, it would be her daughter. He might not talk to Annie much, but he talked to her more than to Andrew or Bethanne. Married. That explained why her ex had turned into such a miser. She’d bet every penny left in her bank account that he was buying Tiffany a huge diamond and planning the honeymoon. At least Tiffany was getting one; Bethanne never had. Grant and Bethanne got married while in college, and there’d been money for no more than a wedding night in a three-star hotel on the Oregon coast. Monday morning they were both back in school.