Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)(74)

“You named them?”

She was already regretting the impulse that had led her to invite Dexter to see her animals. “What’s wrong with that?”

He gazed down at her, and the green-flecked eyes behind the lenses of his wire-rimmed glasses reflected a depth of curiosity she found unnerving. “I’m not a rancher,” he said, “but I understand it’s generally considered harder to slaughter animals you’ve named.”

The evening breeze blew a lock of hair across her cheek. “Even without names, I probably wouldn’t have been able to have them—Oh, never mind.” She impatiently hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Investing in the emus was stupid, but my marriage to Tommy was falling apart and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You wanted to be able to support yourself. That’s understandable.”

“It was stupid.”

He pushed his hands into the pockets of another of what seemed to be an endless supply of khaki slacks. “You’re a risk-taker. These things happen. At least you’re trying to live up to your responsibilities. I understand lots of people just let their emus loose so they won’t have to feed them.”

“I’m irresponsible, but even I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“I don’t think you’re irresponsible.”

He spoke so sincerely that she felt flattered. It was nice to have the approval of someone as serious-minded as Dexter O’Conner. That pleasant feeling vanished at his next words.

“Have you thought about what you want to do with your life, in the event we do get married?”

“We’re not getting married!”

“Probably not. But if we do, you’ll need to find a better way to spend your time than shopping and worrying about your emus.”

“You’ve got a ton of money. I could shop for years without putting a dent in it.” She realized he’d once again sucked her into a discussion of the unthinkable.

“That’s not the point. When I come home in the evenings, you’ll probably want to ask me about my day, and I’ll tell you the parts of it that you might find interesting. Then I’ll ask you about your day, and all you’ll be able to tell me is that there was a sportswear sale at Nieman’s. That would be humiliating for you.”

“You’re so weird.”

“I’m not necessarily talking about a full-time job. But it’s time you contributed something more to the world than a beautiful face. You’ll never be happy if you don’t have a higher purpose than shopping.”

“You have no idea what makes me happy!”

He ignored that. “If you could do anything with your life, what would it be? And I’m not talking about raising children because we both already know how we feel about that, and only time will tell.”

She waited for the stab of pain that the subject always brought to her, but, for once, it didn’t come. She couldn’t understand why. What was there about this goofy, brainy man that she found comforting? She thought about the confrontation she’d had with her father after she’d learned he’d been behind the scheme to marry her off to Dexter. He hadn’t tried to deny it, hadn’t even apologized. He’d just told her he loved her and said that enough was enough. Afterward, she’d felt completely worthless.

“All I know how to do is cuss, play golf, and look good in clothes.”

“And?” He waited patiently.

“And nothing.”

“That might be enough for other women, but not for you. You’re much too intelligent.”

His expression was so earnest that she couldn’t resist. “All right. Maybe I’ve harbored a secret fantasy of doing something with . . .” She hesitated, then thought, Why not? “Maybe doing something with photography.”

“Photography? How interesting.”

He really did seem interested, and she realized she wanted to tell him more. She began hesitantly, but quickly warmed to the subject. “I’ve learned a lot from Patrick in the past year. He’s lent me one of his cameras, and we spend a lot of time together in the darkroom. Lately he’s even let me do some developing for him. He says I have an eye.” She was embarrassed by her own enthusiasm. “He’s probably just being nice.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” He sounded so sincere that she found herself wanting to tell him more.

“I love it, Dex. Once I start working, I lose track of time. And I’ve been haunting playgrounds. I swear, the police are going to arrest me for being a suspicious character, but I love photographing kids. They’re so—” She broke off.

“It’s all right, Torie. I’m not going to make fun of you.”

She heard the understanding in his voice, and she hated it. “I don’t even know why we’re going through with this charade. You admitted that having children was important to you, and you know I’m barren. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

“The doctors haven’t conceded that you’re barren, so why should I? But if it does prove to be true, we could adopt.”

She felt this peculiar thump in her chest, as if her heart had skipped a beat. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. I told you I wanted children.”