The Daughter. BEVERLY BARTON

The Daughter - BEVERLY  BARTON


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for one, am eager to see the bad boy return.’ Grinning, Cybil ran her hand through her short, dark hair. ‘If I recall correctly, Reed Conway was a damn good-looking hunk. And sexy as hell. And no doubt after fifteen years in the pen, he’s horny as hell and aching to get laid.’

      ‘Cybil!’ Carolyn’s normally soft voice screeched with disapproval. ‘Must you be so vulgar? Especially in front of Ella.’

      ‘Good God, Ella is thirty years old,’ Cybil said. ‘If she doesn’t know about the birds and the bees by now, it’s high time she was learning.’

      ‘You had too much wine with dinner.’ Jeff Henry rose from the sofa, offered his hand to his wife and gave her a stern look. ‘We should go home. I think we’ve worn out our welcome tonight.’

      Cybil laughed – a loose, silly laugh that indicated she had indeed become inebriated. She looked up at her husband, then lifted her hand to his. He gently assisted her to her feet and, after more apologies, he guided Cybil out of the living room and into the foyer.

      ‘Perhaps you should help Jeff Henry,’ Carolyn said to her husband.

      Webb nodded. ‘Sorry that the evening ended on such a sour note, Dan. I’m sure you realize that Cybil isn’t always so unpleasant. She’s a wonderful woman, but she simply can’t handle alcohol.’

      Talk about trying to put a pretty face on something, Ella thought. Her father was indeed the consummate politician, capable of putting a positive spin on any occurrence. Why he even bothered trying to defend Aunt Cybil she didn’t know. After all, it wasn’t as if Dan hadn’t been born and raised in Spring Creek. He’d heard all the whispered little rumors about Cybil Walker Carlisle’s penchant for men and liquor. As much as she loved her aunt, Ella hadn’t turned a blind eye to the woman’s weaknesses. More than once, her mother had been horribly shamed by Cybil’s misadventures. If the two sisters didn’t resemble each other almost enough to be twins, no one would ever believe that the highly moral, genteel Carolyn was related to the wild, immoral Cybil.

      ‘Every family has their little differences of opinions,’ Dan said diplomatically.

      ‘Thanks for being so understanding,’ Webb said. ‘I’d better go see if Jeff Henry needs a hand.’ Webb excused himself to follow his in-laws.

      Dan turned his attention to Carolyn as he stood. ‘Mrs Porter, dinner was lovely as always. Thank you for inviting me.’

      ‘You must come back more often,’ Carolyn said. ‘We’re quite fond of you, you know.’

      ‘And I’m quite fond of y’all,’ Dan replied.

       Oh, Mother, please don’t speak for me. Don’t give Dan the impression that I care more for him than I do. I know you’d love to have him as a son-in-law, but you shouldn’t wish for me anything less than what you and Daddy have.

      ‘Walk me out, darling?’ Dan offered his hand to Ella.

      ‘Certainly.’ She ignored his hand as she rose to her feet without any assistance.

      As they headed into the foyer, Ella heard her mother ringing for her nurse, Viola. When they reached the front door, which Webb had left wide open on his hasty departure, Dan pulled Ella into his arms. She went willingly, not knowing how to disengage herself without hurting his feelings. He was a sweet man and she was quite fond of him, but she didn’t love him.

      When his lips sought hers, she gave herself over to the moment. Sweet and tender. If only she could love Dan, it would make her mother so happy. She responded to him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the genuine affection of his kiss. He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes.

      ‘Dinner and a movie Friday night?’ he asked.

      ‘Uh … yes. Sure. I’d love to see the new Meg Ryan movie.’

      ‘Sweet dreams,’ Dan said. ‘Dream of me.’

      Ella smiled. When Dan was halfway down the sidewalk, he turned and waved. She kept on smiling. Then she closed the door and sighed. She was thirty years old and no raving beauty. There wasn’t a horde of eligible men beating a path to her door. So why wasn’t she thrilled to have a great guy like Dan courting her, a guy so obviously interested in a permanent relationship?

      Because he didn’t create butterflies in her stomach. Because she wanted a kiss to be more than pleasant. Because the thought of making love with Dan didn’t excite her.

      Unbidden, her Aunt Cybil’s comments echoed inside her head: Reed Conway was a damn good-looking hunk. And sexy as hell. And no doubt after fifteen years in the pen, he’s horny as hell and aching to get laid. A flush warmed Ella’s cheeks. She remembered Reed Conway. They had traveled in different circles as teenagers and she’d been almost sixteen when he’d gone to prison, but anyone who’d ever known Reed would never forget him.

      And Ella in particular had a good reason to remember the son of her aunt and uncle’s housekeeper. When they had been growing up, she and Reed hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words. She had run into him occasionally when he’d been with his mother at the Carlisles’ house, but for the most part, he had ignored her. And, after politely saying hello to him on those occasions, she had tried to ignore him. But she often found herself watching the town’s bad boy, who, by the age of seventeen, had gained himself quite a reputation as a star athlete and a hell-raiser. Considering that they had barely known each other, she’d been utterly surprised when she had received a letter from Reed only a few months after he’d been sent to prison.

       I’m going to think about you while I’m in here. Dream about you. See those big brown eyes of yours following me, looking at me with such hunger. You didn’t think I saw you staring at me, but I did. And I knew what you were thinking … what you wanted. And baby, I’m just the guy who can give you what you want. When I get out of here, I’m going to look you up. Until then I’m going to think of you while I jerk off.

      Although her parents had taken that first letter and the one that followed away from her and destroyed them, she’d never forgotten what he had written to her. Even after her father explained to her that Reed had written those letters because he hated Webb and would use any method to harass him, Ella had been unable to erase those crude yet erotic words from her mind.

      Reed Conway had been released on parole today. Would he look her up as he’d said he would in the letters he’d written all those years ago? Get a grip, Ella, she cautioned herself. Reed wrote those letters to torment your father, not because he had any personal interest in you. You don’t have anything to worry about. He’s not going to bother you. He probably doesn’t even remember you.

       2

      His mama’s house wasn’t much to look at, but it was home. And anywhere outside, even a two-bedroom, one-bath shack, had a prison cell beat six ways from Sunday. He hated knowing that his mother and sister had spent the past fifteen years here. When he’d been eighteen, one of the reasons that he had wanted to make it big, to be a success, was so that he could take care of his mother and Regina and give them a better life. But he had failed them both and left them to fend for themselves. If he had things to do over again, would he – could he – do anything different?

      When they’d first arrived at the house this afternoon, he’d noticed the repairs that had been made on the place. New paint on the inside and out gave the structure a decent appearance. Inside, homemade covers for the threadbare sofa and chairs, and handmade quilts used as bed coverlets added a touch of hominess to an otherwise drab house. And his mother kept her home as spotlessly clean as she did the Carlisle mansion. Damn! After all these years, she was still slaving away as the housekeeper to people who weren’t fit to kiss her feet. He intended to find a way to change things, to move his family out of the white-trash area of Spring Creek. Once he settled some old scores and set the record straight, he’d find a


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