Dawn Temple - To Have And To Hold

Lindy sighed sadly and tugged her arm free. More than anything, that explosive attraction explained how they had ended up in this mess.

“Do us both a favor, Travis. Go back to Atlanta where you belong.”

Travis stood under the shade of the oak tree centered in the rural cemetery and studied Lindy from behind the protection of his sunglasses. She stood as rigid as a soldier, looking strong and composed. But her hands, wrapped in a death grip around a handkerchief, trembled.

If she doesn’t bend soon, she’s gonna break.

Even with an iron rod down her back and that damned chin of hers aimed to the heavens, she looked stunning. She’d tamed her blond curls into a sophisticated little knot resting on her nape. A classy black suit hugged her body, showcasing the fullness of her breasts, the curve of her hips.

She wore no sunglasses, facing the sun’s glare and the crowd’s speculation directly. Purple smudges tinted the skin under her blue eyes and lines formed around her tightly clenched lips. Even her nostrils flared at regulated intervals.

Against his chest, Travis’s cell phone vibrated for the third time in half an hour. He slipped his hand into his suit jacket and turned it off. Monroe Enterprises, more specifically, his brother and father, would have to get along without him for a couple of days.

He wasn’t going anywhere until he figured out what was going on here, why he’d been summoned to Lionel Lewis’s funeral. Not that he wasn’t sad to hear about Lionel’s passing. They may not have seen eye to eye where Lindy was concerned, but Travis had respected the old man. In fact, he admired the way Pops had always put his family’s happiness—Lindy’s happiness—first.

“Let us not focus solely on our loss,” the minister said. “Rather, let us remember the joy Lionel brought into our lives.”

The words buzzed into Travis’s consciousness, but his gaze remained focused across the crowd of mourners, where Lindy stood beside her grandfather’s flower-draped casket.

His eyes flicked to the hulking Jethro reject hovering at her elbow. He recognized the bastard. He’d never forget the image of his wife’s arms wrapped around this overgrown hick.

After reading Lindy’s Dear John note last year, he’d raced to Tennessee to lay it all on the line, and what did he find? Lindy dancing the night away in the town square with some farm boy. Travis had stormed out of town without learning the man’s name. Once back in Atlanta, he spent the evening spilling his guts to Jack Daniel’s.

He knew the man’s name now. The old lady who ran the boardinghouse that passed for a hotel in this one-horse town happily supplied the man’s identity over lunch.

“Thank goodness for Danny Robertson,” she’d cooed. “Lindy needs a strong man to lean on during these hard times. And Danny’s such a great boy.”

His hostess, diligently thorough in her gossip, spared no detail about Lindy’s longtime “friendship” with the CEO of the local Feed and Seed.

How can these people stand to live in this fishbowl?

Around him, the funeral crowd began reciting a hushed version of the Lord’s Prayer. “Lead us not into temptation—”

Temptation. Yeah, right.

Shifting under the heat of the sun—and his rising anger—Travis watched Lindy mutilate her handkerchief. Was it possible she didn’t know her attorney had called him yesterday, giving him all the details of Lionel’s funeral as well as the meeting scheduled for tomorrow afternoon?

She’d seemed genuinely surprised by his presence this morning. And not just because he’d caught her practically naked. Coming face-to-face with a barely dressed, smiling Lindy had thrown him for quite a loop. But even through his own surprise, he’d noted the shock on her face.

The seductive vision of his wife wearing nothing but two strips of white cotton filled his brain. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen so much of her creamy-white skin.

It had been even longer since he’d seen her smile.

His focus had been so riveted on Lindy, he didn’t notice Robertson move closer to her side until the grizzly-size man lifted a paw and rested it on her shoulder.

Travis waited for Lindy’s shoulder to shrug, knock the paw off, refuse the man’s affection. Instead her hand lifted, touched the fingers resting on her shoulder. She craned her head, relaxed her lips, favoring him with a small smile.

The big man seemed to swell under Lindy’s attention. Travis’s stomach twisted, along with every other muscle in his body.

Fists clenched, he stepped forward.

Luckily common sense prevailed. He couldn’t very well strike the man at Lionel’s funeral. Forcing his muscles to relax, he fell back in line and tried to pay attention to the service.

Lindy smiled and greeted well-wishers until her cheeks ached. Unshed tears burned the backs of her eyes. Seemed like the entire population of Land’s Cross had shown up to pay their respects.

Guilt washed over her. So many people, most she’d known her entire life. Yet all afternoon, one guest had monopolized her thoughts. Travis.

Why was he here? She’d give anything to find out he’d come to support her, to finally be there in her time of need. Her pride and her memory squashed that thought.

Would the frivolous hope lurking inside her ever accept the truth? During their brief marriage, Travis had shown over and over again that she was not his number one priority. Heck, as his wife and the future mother of his child, she hadn’t even rated second best. She’d come a distant third. Far, far behind his family and his precious Monroe Enterprises.

Whatever his reasons for being here, they certainly had nothing to do with comforting her.

Since most of the mourners had already headed to the farm, she dropped her forced smile. Gritting her teeth, she watched Travis stride confidently across the grassy cemetery. He’d removed his sunglasses. His incredible eyes locked on to her, keeping her in his sights, never sparing a glance for the people or grave markers littering his path. He maneuvered through the obstacles without faltering, with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile, she his target.

A shudder quaked through her, from the inside out.

Beside her, Danny touched her shoulder and bent close to her ear.

“You hanging in there?” he whispered.

They’d been friends since their diaper years, and she knew what he really meant. Let me know if you need to cry and I’ll carry you out of here so quick no one will see a single tear. Danny had always been good as gold.

She managed a silent nod in answer to his question, but her gaze remained glued to Travis. He continued his approach, seemingly in slow motion. She pressed her right hand against her breastbone and forced a ragged breath into her lungs. A good twenty feet separated them. Still, Lindy felt blanketed by the pure physical force of his presence.

It was a new sensation. More than chemistry. Almost like—

Her thoughts broke when Travis cocked his head to the left, releasing her from his visual grip. Noticing movement in her periphery, her eyes rotated, blinked several times. She’d been so wrapped up in Travis, she’d forgotten where she was.

Her focus now shifted to the man who stood before her. Chester Warfield studied her, his pale blue eyes narrowed against the afternoon sun. Chester had been Pops’s best friend for more than sixty years, his attorney for almost fifty. Tears filled her eyes and her tense lips quivered into a weak smile.

The stout man answered with a solemn nod and spread his arms wide. She didn’t hesitate, just buried herself in his hug. His familiar scent of lemon drops and arthritis rub engulfed her. For a split second, Lindy allowed herself to pretend everything would be okay.

Then Travis cleared his throat.

Who was she kidding? Her life would never be okay again.

After a few more pats on her back, Chester released her and turned to face Travis, extending his right hand. “You must be Mr. Monroe. I’m Chester Warfield. We spoke yesterday?”

Travis dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment and accepted the older man’s hand.

“Good to finally meet you in person, Mr. Monroe, even under such sad circumstances.”

Lindy studied both men, Travis with his veiled expression, Chester with his odd smile. “You two know each other?”

“Not exactly.” Chester’s gaze settled somewhere near her earring. The tiny hairs on the back of Lindy’s neck snapped to attention.

Chester cleared his throat before continuing. “As your attorney, it was my legal obligation to contact him.”

Lindy shook her head, trying to make sense of Chester’s words. Danny’s body brushed against hers as his large hand cupped her elbow. She’d forgotten he was there.

“You ready to go?” he asked softly.

“No,” she answered, stepping away from Danny’s grasp. “Back up, Chester. What do you mean, ‘legal obligation’?”

Lindy felt a moment’s panic when Chester’s face flushed and his finger dug into the neckband of his shirt. Pops’s face had turned that same shade of purple moments before his heart attack.

But upon closer inspection, she realized Chester wasn’t having a heart attack. Rather, he suffered from an acute case of “you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Lindy’s internal warning siren began to hum. Her gaze snapped back to Travis. His face gave no hint of his thoughts.

She returned her attention to her perspiring lawyer. Her finger poked the center of his chest hard enough to force him back a step. “Spill it.”

Chester’s eyes flicked to Danny. “This is a family matter.”

What a crock.

Lindy recognized the old man’s stall tactic. Still, even though Danny was practically family, a little privacy sounded like a very good idea. Fewer witnesses.

“Danny, would you mind excusing us?”

“Sure. I’ll just wait by the truck and take you home when you’re done.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Travis spoke for the first time. “After the family details are dealt with, I’ll see my wife home.”

Family? Oh, great. Now he gets it.

Stunned, she twisted her head whiplash-fast, but the scathing comment she’d planned dissolved on the tip of her tongue. Travis and Danny stood there, less than two feet apart, shoulders thrown back, eyes squinted, sneering at each other.

Lindy stomped her foot on the ground, the way she would if her prized Holsteins Thelma and Louise were being bullheaded and needed a distraction. The heel of her black pump burrowed into the ground. Darn it.

“You two look like a couple of puffed-up peacocks. Cut it out!” She took a deep breath, counted to ten. Then twenty.

“Danny, I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay?” She lifted her cheek to accept his kiss. With a last glare at Travis, Danny turned and headed back to his truck.

Too tired for more stalling, she addressed her attorney. “I’m assuming whatever you don’t want to tell me has something to do with him.” She indicated Travis with a jerk of her thumb.

Chester nodded.

“Okay.” Another deep breath. “Let’s hear it.”

“Yesterday, I contacted Mr. Monroe in my capacity as executor of the Lewis estate,” Chester said, sounding very lawyerly. “I informed him of Mr. Lewis’s death and requested his presence at the reading of Lionel’s will.”

“Why?” Lindy’s voice echoed inside her head, as if it came from the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. Her internal warning siren no longer hummed. It clanged. At full volume.

“Your grandfather left his entire estate to Mr. and Mrs. Travis Monroe.”