Despite the fact she’d known him since his diaper days, she always addressed him formally.After fifteen years, he’d given up trying to break through to her softer side.He’d begun to suspect she didn’t have one.
“I am a little scattered,” he admitted.
She nodded as if to agree.“You don’t want to talk about it, do you?”She asked the question because it was polite, but her folded arms and the fact that she was inching toward his office door told him that she really didn’t want his confidences.
“No, Edna, I don’t.”
“Well, I’m here.”She smiled quickly and let it fade.“I’ll be at my desk, Mr.Barrington.If you’re sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good.”
She ducked out before he could begin his confession.Adam grinned and turned in his chair to stare out the big window behind his desk.Green grass stretched out on this side of the building.The bank sat on a corner and backed up on the town square.Pecan trees, the oblong fruit just beginning to turn brown, provided shade.Several employees sat in the early afternoon sun, taking their lunch break outdoors.
Orchard was a long way from New York or Los Angeles or Chicago, the places where his university friends had gone after Harvard.At one time he’d thought about leaving for the big city.But his parents had died at the end of his freshman year while he was at Harvard.He’d been the oldest son, and the Barrington heir.With two young siblings to care for, a bank to keep in business and an eccentric aunt who needed as much supervision as she provided, there had been no room for dreams about moving somewhere else.He didn’t mind that his fate had been set when he was born, and sealed by the premature death of his parents.But sometimes he thought about what it would have been like if he’d been able to grow up at his own pace.The parties and social events of his freshman year had given way to extra classes and study.He’d graduated a semester early so that he could return home and take over the bank.
Turning back toward his desk, he picked up the report Edna had left him.He knew he was driving his staff crazy.In the last few days he’d wandered around in a fog, upsetting a routine they’d all grown used to.He knew the cause—as much as he hated to admit the fact that he couldn’t drive her from his mind as easily as he’d driven her from his house.
Jane.
He stared at a portrait of his father hanging on the opposite wall.“Did Mom ever give you this much trouble?”he asked quietly.Not that Jane was troubling him, he amended quickly.He barely thought about her at all.And when he did, it was with completely justified anger and indignation.He hadn’t forgiven her for her childish behavior and the damage she’d done all those years ago.In fact…
Adam shook his head.He was a lousy liar.Always had been.It was his damn Southern upbringing.Too much talk about being a gentleman and the dance lessons they’d made him attend between football practices.He grinned as he remembered Charlene’s discussion with Billie about charm school.The girl had been adamant in her refusal, and her mother had backed her up.He wondered if Billie would stay a tomboy long or if the pressure of society would force her to conform.Just this morning, she’d regaled him with stories about her quest for the perfect curve ball.He’d informed her that he hoped she found one that didn’t destroy windows.
She’d wrinkled her nose at him.The quick gesture, a mirror of what Jane had done when he’d teased her, had made his resolve to forget falter.Billie had slipped past his guard too easily as well, he thought.With a little help.
On Monday, the morning after—He refused to think about kissing Jane, he told himself firmly.It hadn’t meant anything.It had been a flash of temper or an attempt to prove to her that she couldn’t affect him.He hadn’t kissed her because he’d wanted to.After what she’d done, she was lucky he hadn’t run her out of town.Showing up after all this time, with no warning.He didn’t care, of course.She meant nothing to him now.He wanted—
Stop thinking about her, he commanded himself.Billie.That was safe.He recalled last Monday morning.He’d been drinking his morning coffee.Charlene had found Billie lurking outside his back door.
“I wanted to say hi to Adam,” she’d said.He’d put down his paper, not sure if he welcomed the interruption or not.
“Adam has a very rigid schedule in the morning,” Charlene had answered.“He doesn’t like to be disturbed.”She laughed then and held open the door.“Go right in.”
He’d been cursed, he thought, toying with the engraved letter opener that had been his grandfather’s.Cursed to endure the women in his life.Charlene.God, someone could write a book about her.And now Billie.A four-foot-nothing bundle of energy who had already wormed her way into his life.She was funny and intriguing as hell.But not as intriguing as Jane.
He pulled out his right-hand drawer and glanced at the brochure lying on top.The neighboring town sponsored a Triple-A baseball team.They were home for the next couple of weeks.Maybe he could get tickets and take Billie.She’d like that.And if her mother wanted to tag along…
Adam slammed the drawer shut.Was he crazy?He didn’t want to see Jane.And even if he did, hadn’t he learned his lesson?The woman had publicly humiliated him.The only emotion left was anger, and even that didn’t matter.He refused to feel anything else.He couldn’t.It cost too much.
But the rage, so easily tapped into over the weekend, had faded with the passing week.It became harder and harder to focus on the past and what she had done and not wonder what had drawn her back to Orchard.Why now?Why here?He sensed some secret behind her carefully worded explanations.Had she returned for absolution?A second chance?
He shook his head.Not that.She hadn’t cared enough the first time.Why the hell would he think she’d want to try again?And if she did—he picked up the letter opener and stared at the engraving—he wasn’t fool enough to get his heart broken a second time.He wasn’t interested in Jane Southwick.Not now.Not ever.
Adam rose from his desk and walked to his door.After pulling it open, he stepped into the hallway.To his left were the rest of the offices, the supply cabinet and the lunch room that was only used in the winter.To the right was the bank.A couple of people stood in line.Old man Grayson and his wife hovered by the safety deposit box cage, waiting to get inside.Every couple of weeks or so, they took their box into one of the private cubbyholes and spent a few minutes with their personal treasures.For as long as he could remember, they’d been coming here.He’d give a sizable chunk of his estate to know exactly what was in the box.As a kid, he and his friends had speculated about everything from stolen gold to body parts.
A flash of movement by the front door caught his attention.He turned.And drew in a sharp breath.It was as if his thoughts had conjured her from thin air.
Jane held the door open for her daughter.Billie skipped in and looked around.Adam slipped behind one of the old-fashionedpillars, then cursed himself for being a coward.This washisbank, dammit.He had every right to be here.But he stayed where he was and watched them.
Like Edna, Jane was a throwback to another time.While she didn’t wear the heavy makeup his secretary favored, she’d never fully embraced the concept of wearing pants or shorts.A white T-shirt, with a V front that made him wonder what happened when she bent over, covered her upper body.A flowing skirt in a feminine print fluttered around her thighs and fell to mid-calf.The long hair that, years before, had haunted his thoughts until his hands ached to touch it and his body had throbbed for hers, had been tied back.No braid this time, but a ponytail that swung with each step.
She looked young, he thought.Innocent.Incapable of the deception she had committed.For the first time he allowed himself to wonder why.Why had she left him?Why couldn’t he forget her?In the nine years she’d been gone, he’d managed to push her to the back of his mind.She’d been home less than a week, and she haunted every moment of his day.He must exorcise this ghost from his life, he told himself grimly.There wasn’t room for her anymore.
Chapter Seven
Jane glanced around the bank and sighed with relief.No Adam.Funny how at the house, the decision to go see him had sounded like such a good idea.Yet the reality of coming face-to-face with the person who would least like to see her made her squirm.
