Dawn Temple - To Have And To Hold

To Have and To Hold

Dawn Temple

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Infinite thanks and love to Sandra K. Moore,

Ann Peake and Sandy Thomas for teaching me

the true meaning of conflict.

To my guys, Doug, Jacob and Jeremy. Thanks for

the underwear dance. I am so proud of you.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

A soft purple glow drew Lindy Lewis Monroe from the solitude of the barn’s dark interior. She slipped outside the wide double doors and stopped suddenly, awestruck. Before her, dawn painted the East Tennessee sky with hope and renewal, a visible reminder that life goes on.

Beautiful day for a funeral, huh, Pops?

She had a ton of things to do before burying her grandfather this afternoon, yet she stood in the barnyard for several minutes, watching the sun break over the horizon, sharing a final sunrise with the one person who’d always been there for her.

“Goodbye, Pops. I love you.” Her raspy voice gave testament to the buckets of tears she’d cried during the past few days.

A chilly spring breeze drifted across the barnyard. Goose bumps spread over Lindy’s skin beneath her dew-dampened clothes. Her teeth chattered, disturbing the barnyard’s unusual tomblike silence.

Quit standing around like a bump on a log, Lindy girl.

Pops’s gentle reminder whispered through her brain, part memory, part wishful thinking.

Heeding her grandfather’s advice, Lindy turned her back on the glorious sunrise and hotfooted it to the house. Thanks to mid-April’s near-freezing overnight temperatures, her damp jeans grew colder and stiffer with every step.

The screen door squeaked as she entered the mudroom and toed off her boots, then quickly freed the button on her jeans, shimmying her lower half until the clingy, wet denim peeled from her hips.

The damp tails of her oversize shirt slapped against her bare thighs, causing more gooseflesh. She removed Pops’s old red-and-black checkered work shirt and lifted it to her nose. His Old Spice scent still clung to the soft flannel. She hated the idea of laundering away that familiar smell.

Burying her face in the fabric, she wiped away a tear and let the shirt fall to the floor. Cold air enveloped her arms. She shuddered. Her T-shirt, which she’d pulled on without a bra, offered little coverage. Or warmth.

Leaving her wet clothes heaped on the floor, she stepped into the kitchen and paused for a heartbeat, letting the familiar warmth surround her, that blanket of welcome that engulfed her every time she stepped foot inside her childhood home. All her life, she’d dreamed of sharing that warmth with a family of her very own.

Not all dreams come true. She’d taken her shot at happily-ever-after and lost everything: her husband, her baby, her heart. Never again would she trust her dreams to someone else.

Don’t rehash the past. Focus on today. She inhaled deeply, a cleansing breath to wash away her maudlin thoughts. The welcome aroma of her favorite Colombian brew filled her senses.

Should’ve known Alice would show up this morning.

Alice Robertson had been friend, neighbor and part-time housekeeper to the Lewis family for more years than anyone cared to remember. Having her here, today of all days, felt right, Lindy thought, heading for the coffeepot. A mug prefilled with half-and-half waited on the countertop.

Such a sweet woman. For the first time since leaving the hospital three nights ago, Lindy’s lips curled into a halfhearted smile. Wondering why Alice hadn’t stuck around for coffee, she turned away from the cabinet and came face-to-face with the past she’d just been trying to forget.

Travis Monroe.

Her breath backed up in her throat. She clamped her eyes shut, waited a long second, then slowly reopened them. He hadn’t moved a muscle.

The man she hadn’t seen in almost a year leaned against the doorjamb, steaming cup in hand. His thick black hair was ruffled, no doubt from his own agitated fingers. Dark stubble covered his angled jaw. His Brooks Brothers suit was wrinkled. He looked haggard. And fantastic.

His eyes, a sexy starburst of green and gold, were riveted to the thin cotton clinging to her breasts.

Oh, great. Travis shows up unexpectedly, and I’m parading around the kitchen in my undies.

Despite her near nakedness, Lindy refused to cross her arms in some virginal attempt to cover what he already had intimate knowledge of. “What are you doing here?”

Her abruptness seemed to snap him out of his stunned stupor. His eyes lifted to her face. The desire and anger she saw there made her take a step backward.

“What happened to your legendary Southern charm?”

Her chin tilted up a notch. “Manners are for friends and invited guests. You are neither.”

“No, I’m just your husband.” Travis pushed away from the doorway that separated the kitchen from the family room. His firm lips fell into a frown. She knew how warm and soft they’d feel pressed against her own.

Don’t go there.

“How’d you get in here?” Surely Alice hadn’t let Lindy’s estranged husband in and then left without warning her.

“Your front door was unlocked.”

Unlocked? She wrinkled her brow, momentarily puzzled until her brain connected all the dots. Pops had always taken care of locking up at night. Another sad twinge plucked her heart, but she determinedly tucked her grief deep inside. Later, when she was alone, she’d let it out and allow her tears to flow.

Right now, she propped her hands on her hips, pretending she wore her favorite denim overalls rather than see-through cotton. “For the most part, the only doors we lock in Land’s Cross are on the henhouse. That’s generally the place we have problems with unwanted varmints.”

Travis’s knuckles whitened against his coffee mug. “Sounds like a great slogan for the chamber of commerce.”

A shameful heat warmed her cheeks. Why was it so easy to shuck her normal kindness and stoop to rudeness with Travis?

She knew the answer to that one. Because no one else had ever hurt her like he had.

“I’ll be sure to pass your suggestion along. Coming from such a career-driven person, I’m sure the chamber will give it all the attention it deserves.”

“I see your tongue’s as razor sharp as ever.” Still standing in the doorway, he lifted his coffee and took a slow sip. Over the mug, his eyes captivated hers. “Although, I remember times when your only response was a purr. Or a moan.”

Heaven help her, she also remembered those times. Remembered them too well. Too often. But that was her own dark secret. Travis didn’t need to know how often he played the starring role in her memories, both during daylight hours and dark.

“I hate to disappoint you, Travis, seeing as how you’ve come all this way to stroll down memory lane, but my schedule’s pretty tight today. And we both know what a busy man you are. Why don’t I give your secretary a call later? Perhaps Marge can squeeze me in between your more important commitments.”

He stepped toward her, all desire gone from his eyes. “You think I want to be here?” The muscle in his clenched jaw jumped.

“Then why are you? I didn’t ask you to come.”

“No, you sure didn’t,” he said bitterly. “You’ve made it clear where your loyalties lie.”

A rusty sound erupted from her throat. “My loyalties!” Her hands began to shake, making her wish for pockets to hide them in. Why hadn’t she waited to take off Pops’s huge shirt? She felt as vulnerable on the outside as she did on the inside.

“You’re one to talk about loyalties.” How many times had Travis rushed off to rescue his “real” family, often not bothering to tell her where he’d gone or when he’d return?

“You’re the one who ran off.” Travis’s voice was colder and tighter than the jeans she’d left crumpled on the mudroom floor. “Until I read that damned note you left, I never pegged you for a coward. You always bragged about being ‘strong Lewis stock.’”

Strong Lewis stock. That had been Pops’s motto, his answer to all life’s problems.

“How dare you throw my grandfather’s words in my face!” She kneaded her fist against the ache in the pit of her stomach. “You must be spending too much time with your brother. That’s the kind of cruel remark I’d expect from Grant.”

Hurt flickered across his features. Lindy hardened her heart. She wouldn’t let her softer emotions distract her. “You obviously came here to upset me. You’ve succeeded. Now you can leave.”

“Leave?” Travis spit the word out. “Is that your only answer? When things get sticky, pack up and crawl home.”

“What choice did I have? Did you ever give me a reason to stay?” Lindy’s voice rose, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t keep her feelings bottled up any longer. “You worked twenty hours a day, seven days a week. On the rare occasions you came home, it was just for a quick nap—in the guest room for God’s sake. Do you have any idea how demoralizing that was for me? Being tied to a man who’d rather fold himself onto a bed too short and too narrow to be the slightest bit comfortable than share a king-size bed with me?”

She paused, sucking air deep into her burning lungs. Even a year later, the idea of being no more than an obligation to Travis caused her heart to spasm.

He straightened from the door frame. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know what you wanted. What you needed.”

“You could’ve asked.” She’d desperately needed words of comfort from him. All she’d gotten was his silence. His absence.

“I figured I had time. I wanted to wait until you’d fully recovered before—” His shoulder shrugged. “Before I broached such a sensitive subject. Our relationship was rocky enough.”

“What little relationship we had died that night.” Her voice hitched, as it always did when she remembered the car crash that had wrecked their lives. Her hands again covered her stomach. If their son hadn’t died, would their marriage have survived?

This time, Travis’s hurt was more than a flicker. It was a beacon. She’d never doubted the sincerity of Travis’s grief. Unfortunately it was their only common emotion.

“I’d give anything to change what happened,” Travis whispered, the warm timbre of his voice washing over her raw nerves, once more weakening her resolve.

In self-defense, she resorted to rudeness. “Well, not even you can fix the past. And I have a funeral to attend today.”

She turned to leave, desperate to escape before the tears burning her eyelids broke free.

Travis’s warm touch halted her getaway, his thumb gently stroking the tender flesh just south of her underarm. “I was sorry to hear about Lionel. I know how much he meant to you.”

She knew the tingles coursing through her were wrong. For goodness’ sake, in a few hours she would bury the only real family she’d ever had. So why did Travis’s touch feel so right?

She looked pointedly to where his tanned flesh intersected with her pale skin. Knowing he couldn’t miss the skip in her pulse, she played her reaction as anger, lifting her gaze to his and arching her brow.

The left side of his mouth twitched slightly. He wasn’t fooled. Whatever problems she and Travis may have had, chemistry was never one of them. Every time they came within five feet of each other, they spontaneously combusted.