A Daring Vow (Vows) Read online

  What on earth had gone wrong in that marriage? Whatever it was, Taylor was still clearly distraught by it. Zelda felt her heart wrench as she thought of Caitlin. What effect would such obvious anguish have on that beautiful, lively little child of his?

  It was none of her business, she reminded herself sharply. None. She was just passing through Taylor’s life again.

  * * *

  As the door to his office closed, Taylor shoved his trembling fingers through his hair and muttered a curse. Why the hell had he taken his anger at Maribeth and events that had happened a lifetime ago out on Zelda? He’d seen the unmistakable flash of hurt in her eyes, the proud tilt of her chin. Damn it, she wasn’t just being nosy. As a new secretary, she’d made a perfectly natural inquiry. She couldn’t possibly know the story of his disastrous marriage and its tragic outcome. Beau Matthews had seen to it that the worst of it never reached the media. It was one of the rare times that Taylor had been grateful for his father’s power and influence. What little gossip that had made the rounds was bad enough. Sooner or later he’d have to tell Zelda at least that much of it or someone else in town was bound to do it first. Heaven knew how they would embellish it, but he doubted he’d come out the hero.

  In the meantime, though, he had to find some way to coexist with Zelda for the next month without letting her very presence rattle him. Walking in here today, seeing her at his desk, had brought on a flood of old daydreams.

  Once they’d talked for hours on end about how much he wanted to have an office that was attached to his home, so his family—Zelda and all of their adorable, redheaded little children—would be close by.

  Well, that hadn’t happened, he reminded himself fiercely. He hadn’t married Zelda. His wife, well, he didn’t even want to think about Maribeth. And his beautiful, precious daughter was away at boarding school so he wouldn’t have to cope with raw memories that hurt too much. It shouldn’t have been this way, but nobody ever said life came with guarantees.

  Suddenly he recalled the very first time he’d been truly aware that the redheaded daredevil who was two classes behind him in school was something more than a pint-size pest. He’d thought of her as little else than a girl who was always anxious to follow his lead, who always looked at him with the kind of adoration he hadn’t deserved, but which had made him feel ten feet tall. He’d been a rebellious kid. Zelda had been a more than willing co-conspirator.

  He’d been a sophomore in high school when that had changed. Zelda had still been in junior high. In age difference it hadn’t been much. In terms of pretended sophistication, it had been light-years.

  Even so, like a bolt from the blue, he’d noticed the endlessly long legs, the already curvaceous figure, the hair that gleamed like fire in the sun. His pal, his best friend, had grown up on him.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one aware of the changes. When he’d first recognized that he was thinking of her differently, Zelda had been cornered outside Sarah Lynn’s by a half dozen taunting boys, whose tasteless comments were fueled more by rampaging hormones than cruelty.

  Driven by some primitive instinct, Taylor had been about to rush to her rescue when he’d noticed the sparks in her eyes and recognized that the fourteen-year-old wasn’t intimidated. She was furious. He knew better than to get on the wrong side of Zelda’s temper, but her assailants obviously didn’t. Bobby Daniels had missed the signs completely and made one taunting comment too many. Zelda’s knee had caught him strategically and a left hook bloodied his nose. The stunned, open-mouthed boys had scattered, taking the moaning Bobby with them. Even Taylor had been awed.

  “You throw a mean punch,” Taylor recalled telling her, falling a little bit in love with her at that moment. He’d known then that she was destined to be a woman who’d be a spirited match for any man. As young as he’d been, he’d wanted desperately to be that man. “How’d you learn to fight?”

  “Practice,” she’d retorted with an expression he couldn’t fathom.

  Then she’d sashayed into Sarah Lynn’s and ordered a hamburger, fries and a hot-fudge sundae as if punching out a bully had only whetted her appetite. She hadn’t even blinked when an irate Patty Sue Daniels had stormed in a few minutes later to threaten Zelda with jail for decking her precious son.

  “Go ahead,” she’d said, calm as you please. “But you won’t like hearing the filth that was coming out of his mouth testified to in court.”

  “Who’d believe you?” Patty Sue had retorted derisively. “Everybody in town knows your mama’s a mental case and that you’re just like her.”

  Zelda had turned pale at that, every drop of color washing out of her skin. Her hands had clenched into fists once more. She’d slid off her stool at the counter, her intentions clear to anyone who knew her as well as Taylor did. Before she could deck Patty Sue, Taylor had interceded, even though he figured the obnoxious woman deserved whatever she got.

  “I heard him, too,” he’d said, stepping between them. “Think the judge and jury will believe me? Let me see now, what were his exact words?” In a low voice he’d repeated Bobby’s remarks word for word, avoiding Zelda’s gaze the whole time.

  Patty Sue had turned red as a beet while listening to the crude remarks. “I ought to tan your hide, young man. Or maybe I ought to have a word with your daddy. Nobody talks that way to a lady.”

  “Exactly,” he’d said. “But I’m not the one you ought to be explaining that to.”

  Patty Sue had left in a huff. Considering how gingerly Bobby had inched into his seat in class the next morning, apparently his mother had taken Taylor’s advice to heart. Even after all these years, the memory made him chuckle. He doubted if the town’s newly elected mayor—Robert Daniels—would recall the incident so fondly.

  That defiant spark in Zelda that had first fascinated him had been very much in evidence on Friday when he’d made the foolish mistake of stopping by her house. She was still a hellion, all right. And she could still pack a wallop. He had the bruises on his back to prove it.

  And, no matter how much he might hate it, he was still fascinated. This time, though, he’d die before he’d do a damned thing about it. He sighed and wondered exactly how many times he’d need to remind himself of that over the coming weeks.

  * * *

  After that first awkward day, Zelda told herself things had to improve. Instead, each day turned into torment. They were both so polite it made her want to scream. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this cool civility. Taylor was a good lawyer, smart and instinctive, and more than willing to listen to her suggestions. He was even lavish with his praise, though most often it came in the form of notes jotted on the corner of papers she’d written for him. The ideal boss.

  Unfortunately, Zelda had wanted her old friend back, if not her old lover.

  She made it through the first week and then the second. By the third she was ready to admit that this had been the third worst mistake of her life. The first had been falling in love with Taylor all those years ago. The second had been not getting over him.

  She ought to quit. She sat at the computer, glaring at his office, and tried to convince herself to walk out and go back to Los Angeles where life was far less complicated.

  “You are not a quitter,” she snapped finally. “You are not.”

  Suddenly she realized she was not alone. She looked up from her computer and caught Taylor watching her with something akin to longing on his face. It was the first tangible sign she’d had that he didn’t outright loathe her for putting them both into this awkward situation.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice far too breathless to suit her. Obviously she was reading too much into that unguarded expression she’d just witnessed, an expression that had vanished faster than a wisp of smoke.

  “I suppose I was just wondering why I never realized you were so…” He fumbled for a word.

  “Smart? Responsible?” Zelda supplied with an automatic edge of sarcasm. Then her
innate good humor crept in. Her tone lighter, she taunted, “It’s hard to pick up on things like that when you’re skinny-dipping at one in the morning or sneaking into Sarah Lynn’s to make ice-cream sundaes in the dark.”

  Taylor’s gaze softened. His chuckle crept in and, like a touch of spring air, it warmed her heart.

  “It’s a good thing Sarah Lynn has a forgiving nature, or we’d have served time for that one,” he said.

  “It was still the best hot-fudge sundae I ever had,” she replied, unable to keep the wistful note from her voice.

  A smile tilted the corners of his mouth, then disappeared in a beat. “Yeah, me, too.”

  While Zelda stared after him with her heart thudding, he quietly closed the door to his office. Now what, she wondered, was that all about?

  Chapter Six

  That fleeting moment under Taylor’s speculative gaze was the last straw. He’d looked so lost, so lonely in that one instant when his expression hadn’t been guarded. Why? What had happened to him over the past ten years to rob him of the zest for living they had once shared?

  Darlene had already whetted Zelda’s curiosity about what had gone on in Taylor’s life while she’d been in Los Angeles. No one so far had satisfied that curiosity, and she had never tolerated secrets very well. Maybe that’s why she’d taken the paralegal courses, so she could be in a profession that allowed her to probe behind the facade most people displayed to the public and get at the truth of their lives.

  Her one attempt to get Taylor to say anything about his marriage had failed miserably. Obviously if she was going to learn a thing, someone else would have to be the one to tell her. She sorted through the possibilities and picked Elsie Whittingham.

  Elsie was lonely. She liked to talk. She had once provided an after-school refuge for Zelda. And she knew more about what went on in Port William than any other ten people combined, with the possible exception of Sarah Lynn. Zelda didn’t dare ask her old friend. Sarah Lynn might care about Zelda as if she were her own daughter, but she was also loyal to Taylor. Zelda didn’t want to test that loyalty.

  That night on her way home from work, she stopped by Elsie’s for a glass of lemonade and some of her homemade gingersnaps. It wasn’t the first time she’d dropped in unannounced, acting on an old habit from childhood. But this evening was the first time she’d shown any interest in lingering beyond a few polite minutes. Elsie beamed as Zelda settled in a chair in front of the fireplace and sipped on her second glass of lemonade.

  “First fire of the season,” Elsie said. “There’s a real bite in the air tonight.”

  “Feels good,” Zelda said, referring as much to the chill outside as to the blazing warmth of the fire. She was enjoying the real changing of the seasons again.

  “I sure am glad to have you stop by now and again,” Elsie added. “You remember how you used to do this when you were a girl? I recall it like it was yesterday. You always did love my gingersnaps. You and Taylor both. I must have baked twice a week just to keep you two satisfied.”

  “That was Taylor. He could eat a dozen for every two I got.” She sighed. “Mama never baked,” she added wistfully. “Never cooked if she could help it. I used to pray that just once I’d come home from school and be able to sniff the scent of warm cookies fresh from the oven. Instead, all I ever smelled was bourbon.”

  As soon as the words were out, Zelda regretted them. Keeping silent about her mother’s drinking had once been habit. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “And why not, I’d like to know?” Elsie said indignantly. “It wasn’t right.”

  Zelda suddenly felt the need to defend her mother…again. “Mama did the best she could,” she said sharply, trying to make up for her indiscreet remark just moments before. “There were times when she was just fine, when she’d tell me stories or read to me from those books of hers. Sometimes she’d take down her big old atlas and point to places far away and talk about what it would be like to travel there. I knew more about geography by the time I was in grade school than some kids do when they graduate from college.”

  Elsie pursed her lips. “It was your father I always felt sorry for. Poor Joseph had no wife looking after his needs the way she should.”

  Zelda felt as if an old wound had been stripped open. “That’s not true,” she said in a low voice. “It was his fault. You don’t know what he was like.”

  “He was a fine, Christian man,” Elsie insisted, looking shocked that Zelda would dare to suggest otherwise.

  “He was selfish, rigid and judgmental. Why the hell do you think my mother drank in the first place?” she said furiously. “Because nothing she ever did was good enough to satisfy him. Not one blessed thing.”

  Stunned by her outburst, Zelda snapped her mouth shut before she revealed far more than she’d ever intended to say about the horror of living in that house with Joseph Lane. He punished not with spankings, not even with yelling, but with his cold silence. Just the memory of it made her freeze up inside.

  She set her unfinished glass of lemonade down carefully. “I think I’d best be going.”

  Elsie regarded her worriedly. “There’s no need for you to run off. Let’s talk about something more pleasant. You shouldn’t go getting yourself all upset over things that can’t be changed. I’m sorry we got into it. All that was a long time ago. Tell me how things are going now that you’re back. Are you settling in okay over there? Is there anything you need?”

  Zelda drew in a deep breath and finally sat back. “I’m fine,” she said. “Sooner or later I’m going to need to do something about the sorry state of the house, but for now I’m making do.”

  Zelda saw the speculative look in Elsie’s eyes. She could guess what was really on the woman’s mind and since it would head the conversation in the direction she wanted, she just waited for curiosity to get the better of Elsie.

  “You and Taylor getting along okay?” she asked eventually.

  “He’s a good boss,” Zelda said.

  Elsie rolled her eyes at the bland remark. “I wasn’t referring to his dictating skills.”

  “We see each other at the office. That’s it.” She hesitated, then added in what she hoped was a casual tone, “But I was wondering something.”

  “Oh?”

  “Did Taylor come straight back to Port William after law school?”

  Judging from Elsie’s expression, she wasn’t fooled by Zelda’s casual air.

  “No, indeed,” she said. “He went into practice over in Charleston, just like he always talked about doing.”

  “Then how did he end up back here?”

  Elsie hesitated, then shook her head. “I can’t say I know the whole story. Besides, that’s something you’d best be asking him,” she said.

  It was a surprising display of discretion for a woman who loved to gossip. First Darlene, now Elsie. It appeared to Zelda if she stuck around Port William long enough this time, the whole blasted town would reform.

  “I can’t ask my boss something like that,” she said piously. “It’s too personal.”

  Elsie winked. “I know. If you were just asking because he’s your boss, I’d tell you what I do know. But you’re looking for more than the bare facts, and that’s something you ought to hear from him.”

  “Why does everybody act so mysterious about this?” she snapped impatiently. “It’s not like I’m some scandalmonger from a tabloid. Taylor and I were close once.”

  “A lot of water’s gone under the bridge since then, for both of you. Seems to me if you expect to be close again, you’d best open up those lines of communication.”

  Zelda scowled at her, then grinned at the common sense suggestion. Whatever else her flaws might be, Elsie Whittingham had always had good solid advice for a lonely girl who hadn’t always trusted her own mother’s slurred words of wisdom. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.”

  “Can I offer one more word of advice?”

  “You’re asking?” she said incre
dulously. “Would a no stop you?”

  Elsie chuckled. “Not likely. Don’t go stirring things up unless you’ve got a good reason for doing it. Taylor’s had a rough time of it. He doesn’t need someone else to come along and hurt him.”

  “What makes you think I could do anything to hurt Taylor?”

  “Because, honey, you always could, and some things just flat-out never change.”

  All night long Elsie’s warning seemed to reverberate in Zelda’s head. Was it possible that Taylor did hold some deeply buried feelings for her, even after all this time? It would explain that unguarded expression she’d caught on his face, the hunger in that kiss.

  If so, then, what right did she have stirring things up? Was she still hoping for revenge? Or were there feelings of her own, feelings that went beyond resentment, that she hadn’t yet grappled with, that maybe she didn’t want to face at all? Common sense told her to proceed with caution.

  Of course, according to legend in Port William, anyway, common sense wasn’t something Zelda Lane had ever given a hang about. Since she’d already been tarred with that particular brush, she couldn’t see much reason to prove them wrong now.

  * * *

  The next day when Zelda placed a stack of letters on Taylor’s desk, instead of beating a rapid retreat, she lingered. Seeing the tense set of his shoulders, she longed to stand behind him and massage away the ache. Given his overall attitude toward her, though, he’d probably charge her with assault. Maybe even attempted murder, if her fingers happened to skim his neck.

  “I was surprised to find you living in Port William after all this time,” she confessed in what she hoped was a casual tone.

  He barely glanced at her. “Why? It’s home.”

  Though his response was hardly an invitation for an intimate t;afete-;aga-t;afete, she sat down anyway. “But you were always so determined to live in Charleston or Columbia, and run for office.”