A Family For Ronnie (Harlequin Treasury 1990's) Read online

  A Family for Ronnie

  Julie Caille

  For Janet Milkovich and Merydith Mathiews, with thanks for their time and tact.

  And for Susan Macias, a.k.a. Susan Mallery, with sincere appreciation.

  Special thanks to the Romance Exchange of the GEnie network, the best support group in the world.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Oh, Lord, there he was, all six foot two inches of him.

  Alicia’s heart catapulted into her throat as, across the crowded airport lobby, their eyes locked. Her fingers tightened on her cosmetic bag, and her stomach clenched in a way it had not done since she was eighteen years old.

  Ten years, she thought with dismay. After ten years and a failed marriage, she still reacted like a giddy teenager to her first sight of Luke Garrick. It was definitely not a good sign.

  Commanding her legs to function, she stepped around a tall woman in a red sundress, watching as Luke bent to speak to the child who clung to his hand. At least two female heads turned as he straightened, which didn’t surprise Alicia a bit. Between the cowboy hat, the long, muscular legs in those tight blue jeans and the well-proportioned body, he looked like one of those extremely masculine men advertisers plaster all over their billboards. Not handsome in the conventional sense of the word, but dark and lean and strong and tough.

  A dominant male.

  He made his way over to her and stopped, his face devoid of expression. “So,” he said, amid the babble of voices. “You made it all right.”

  “Yes.” She looked up into his gray eyes and swallowed.

  Until this moment she had not really absorbed the fact that she would see him again. They had spoken on the phone twice during the past few days, briefly, and even that had been difficult. Neither had acknowledged the significance of the date she had chosen to travel on; she doubted he even remembered.

  Tearing her gaze from his, Alicia looked down at her six-year-old nephew. He had chocolate around his mouth and a dirt smudge across the front of his oversize Oilers T-shirt, but his hair was neatly combed. Maternal anxiety filled her chest. He looked lost, forlorn, a solemn little waif in a sea of noisy adults.

  “Oh, Ronnie,” she whispered, a lump in her throat. Forgetting Luke, she set down her things and held out her arms to her dead sister’s child.

  Her nephew.

  Luke’s nephew.

  Their mutual responsibility now that the boy’s parents were gone.

  No recognition flashed in the child’s eyes, for it had been two years since his parents had brought him to visit her in Massachusetts. She held her breath as he studied her, then he stepped forward and allowed her to hug him.

  Tears stung Alicia’s eyes as she held the small body against hers. He was too young to comprehend tragedy of this magnitude, too young to have to bear such anguish.

  “I’m glad to see you, honey,” she murmured. “You’ve gotten so big.”

  He squirmed out of her embrace. “We saw your plane land.”

  “Did you? I looked out my window, but I couldn’t see you.”

  “I didn’t wave,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Uncle Luke didn’t, either.”

  She forced a smile. “Well, I’m glad you came to meet me. I’ve never been to Houston before so I wouldn’t know how to find you on my own.”

  The man who had once been her fiancé picked up her cosmetic case. “C’mon, Ron, let’s take Aunt Alicia to get her luggage.”

  In subtle ways, he had changed. At twenty, Luke had been appealing, but the past decade had added an intriguing element to his face, an almost daunting quality that had been missing before. To Alicia, he seemed taller and broader, less boyish and more self-assured. Beneath the brim of his hat, his black hair looked curlier than she remembered, probably due to the oppressive southern humidity. And his tan was deeper, though she knew he must spend most of his time in his store.

  As they followed Ronnie along the passageway toward the main part of the terminal, Alicia searched her mind for something to say, some remark to ease the awkwardness. “How has he been?” she asked, fighting an urge to double-check the top button of her blouse, which had a tendency to escape its hole.

  “He’s doing all right,” Luke said tersely. “Sometimes something sets him off, and he cries.”

  “Maybe he’s going to need some kind of counseling.”

  “He’s tough. He’ll survive.”

  Unconvinced, Alicia surveyed the child’s thin shoulders. “He doesn’t look tough. He looks like he’ll break in a stiff wind.”

  Luke glanced down at her, his face a little hard. “Maybe you ought to wait awhile before making assessments.”

  “It doesn’t take a genius to know that child is hurting, Luke. So am I, for that matter. But—” fatigue and worry brought a thin note of accusation into her voice “—you seem to be taking this whole thing pretty casually.”

  At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer, and when he did, his tone was ominous. “So what are you implying, Alicia? That I don’t care about Ronnie? That what happened doesn’t affect me? You have one hell of an opinion of me, if that’s what you think.”

  Too upset to reply, Alicia returned her gaze to Ronnie, who had already reached the escalator that led down to baggage claim. She saw the child turn to watch their approach, his face so somber that she wondered if he sensed their discord.

  They descended to the lower floor in taut silence, a silence that continued while they waited for Alicia’s suitcases to appear. Then they headed for the double glass doors and the parking lot outside.

  Heat and humidity hit them like a blast from a furnace. “Boy, it sure is hot here in Texas, isn’t it?” she said to the little boy.

  Ronnie shrugged. “Yeah, but me and Luke don’t care,” he answered stoutly. “Real men don’t mind a little sweat.”

  While Luke loaded her suitcases into the back of his pickup truck, she swiped a hand over her forehead and studied Ronnie. His straight blond hair and blue eyes reminded her so much of her sister, Caroline, that her heart ached, not only for Ronnie but for herself. She looked away, staring blindly as she remembered all the years of sibling rivalry, all the years of striving to be more than second-best. That it should end like this seemed unbearable.

  She pressed her lips together to contain her emotion. She wanted to care for this child, to take him back with her to Massachusetts and raise him as her own. She would love and nurture him as Caroline would no longer be able to do, and, with time, he would come to love her back. It was more than an obligation, more than a commitment.

  It was a need, deep-rooted and powerful.

  As they climbed into the Silverado, she drew a deep breath, held it, then exhaled slowly and felt some of her tension ease. Then, unwisely, she slid a glance toward Luke and felt a different kind of tension.

  During her five-year marriage to Kenny, she’d never mentioned Luke. She’d never dared, for if she had, she wasn’t sure she could have concealed the wistfulness in her voice. Luke represented the mystique of her first love, the chance of a lifetime she’d been too afraid to seize.

  Or too afraid to believe.

  A sudden blare of music startled her, and she realized
Ronnie had turned on the radio.

  “Got it a bit loud, don’t you, partner?” Luke said lazily. He reached over to adjust the volume.

  “I like it loud,” the child protested. “That’s my favorite song.”

  “They’re all your favorite songs.”

  “When we get home, can I watch the rest of the movie?”

  “Maybe later. First we have to get your aunt settled.”

  “Where’s she going to sleep? In with you?”

  Alicia’s cheeks warmed as Luke sent her an unreadable glance. “I doubt it, Ron. I thought I’d let her use the guest room.” His mirrored aviator sunglasses hid his eyes; his tone told her nothing.

  “I bet she’d like your water bed better.” Ronnie nudged her arm. “Luke’s got a water bed. You can’t jump on it, though, or he’ll yell.”

  “Uh, thanks for the warning,” she mumbled.

  “Luke says I can have a water bed when I’m older.”

  “He does, does he?” Alicia tightened her mouth, wondering how many other promises Luke had made without consulting her. She knew nothing about water beds except that her high-rise condominium did not allow them.

  They drove for almost an hour, the scene shifting from the beltway to an area that seemed a strange amalgam of suburbia and country. One minute they would be on a road thick with signs and stores, and the next there would be horses or what she assumed were Texas longhorns grazing in emerald fields that seemed miles from any kind of civilization.

  “How far out do you live?” she inquired when the silence had lasted as long as she could tolerate.

  “Not too far. We’re almost there.” A moment later, Luke downshifted, easing his truck onto a narrow road that split off to the left. Within minutes, they turned into a driveway belonging to a white, two-story farmhouse with dark green shutters and gray trim.

  Somehow it was not what Alicia had expected. With its steeply pitched roof and projecting angles, it exhibited a charming blend of simplicity and elegance. A covered porch stretched across the front, and a separate double garage perched a short distance from the right rear of the house. The garage door slid up smoothly, and Luke parked the Silverado next to a van emblazoned with the words Garrick and Gunn Electronics.

  “Let me out first,” commanded Ronnie as Alicia opened her door. “Daffy’s waiting for me.”

  Wondering who Daffy was, she allowed the little boy to scoot by her before she stepped out. As the six-year-old dashed toward the house, Luke came around the back of the truck, his keys jingling in his hand.

  “Let me unlock the door for Ronnie, then I’ll come back for your things.” He tossed the words over his shoulder as he walked away, leaving it unclear whether he expected her to follow or wait for his return.

  “Sure,” Alicia muttered, standing alone in the sweltering garage. “No problem. Don’t mind me.”

  Perspiration trickled down her face as she went to the back of the truck and hoisted herself up on the bumper. She would get her own suitcases; she wasn’t some little old lady who needed a man to do the heavy work. Gritting her teeth, she reached down to grasp the handle of the larger of her two suitcases. She tugged it closer, preparing to lift. Damn, it was heavy. She’d forgotten how much she had crammed into it.

  Luke’s footsteps crunched on the gravel behind her. “I said I’d get them.”

  “I can do it,” she snapped, still tugging.

  “Let me do it, Alicia. You’ll hurt yourself.” He sounded impatient, as though he were dealing with a child.

  “Don’t be silly. I am perfectly capable of—”

  She broke off with a gasp as an arm hooked around her waist. “Stubborn woman,” Luke growled beneath his breath. For a paralyzing instant, she hung in the air, her hips and thighs pressed against the hard male muscle of his torso. A shock of awareness rippled through her, then her feet hit the ground and she was free.

  Luke stood very still, his eyes hidden behind the silvered sunglasses. “There’s an easier way,” he said, his voice sounding a bit strained. He turned and let down the tailgate.

  “Oh.” Feeling rebuked and rather breathless, Alicia cleared her throat. “I...forgot. I haven’t ridden in a truck since—” She stopped in midsentence, appalled that she had almost alluded to that long-ago summer when he had courted her.

  He set her suitcases on the concrete and pulled his hat lower, an action that caught her attention. A cowboy hat should have seemed a ludicrous affectation on a man born and raised in Connecticut, yet it didn’t, even with the sunglasses. Instead, it looked entirely suitable. It also seemed symbolic, as though with this one alteration to his attire, Luke had cast aside his old life—the one Alicia had inhabited—and embraced the new.

  “I guess you’re planning to stay awhile,” he remarked. “It feels like you brought everything you own.”

  “I like to be prepared,” she said defensively.

  “So I see.” A thread of dryness tinged his voice. “Here, you can carry this.” He passed her the cosmetic case and slammed the tailgate shut. “Let’s get out of this heat.”

  Inside the house it was blessedly cool. Pushing back a few damp strands of hair, Alicia paused in the foyer, surveying the natural wood flooring with approval. “This is lovely,” she commented. In fact, she thought it had a far more inviting ambience than her own condominium, which was filled with furniture that Kenny had selected.

  Luke deposited the suitcases near the foot of the staircase and removed his sunglasses, his expression enigmatic. “Thanks. Want a drink?”

  “Some iced tea would be wonderful. If you have any, that is.”

  “I made some this morning.” He led the way down the hall into the kitchen, where Ronnie sat with feet swinging, a half-eaten container of strawberry yogurt on the table in front of him.

  “I put Daffy out,” the little boy said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “She’s probably done by now.”

  “Thanks, Ron. I’ll let her in.” Tossing his hat on the table, Luke crossed the kitchen and opened the back door. At once, a large dog of questionable pedigree plunged into the room, took one look at Alicia and headed her way with a deep-throated bark. “Easy, Daf,” Luke directed in a warning voice.

  Alicia stood stock-still while Daffy sniffed her over with ill-mannered thoroughness. “Is she part collie?” she asked, reaching down to stroke the dog’s soft fur with a tentative hand.

  Luke took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice. “She’s all collie. It’s just hard to tell because her hair’s shaved short for the summer.”

  “Her real name is Daffodil,” Ronnie explained, “but we call her Daffy.”

  When Alicia arched a brow, Luke made a wry face. “Don’t blame me,” he said. “She came with the name.”

  “Can I have a milk shake?” Ronnie asked.

  “In a few minutes. Let me take care of your aunt first.”

  Alicia sat down in the chair next to Ronnie. “You like yogurt, I see.”

  “Yep. Not all the kinds though. I hate blueberry.” He stopped suddenly, and his face crumpled. “Mom hated blueberry too.” He stared down at his spoon, his lip trembling.

  “I know, darling. I grew up with your mother.” Alicia laid her hand over his, but he pulled away, refusing to look at her.

  “Do you remember when you came to visit me in Boston?” she said gently. “It was two summers ago. We took you to the Children’s Museum.”

  “No!” Slamming the spoon down, he slid from his chair and raced from the room. Daffy bounded after him, but when Alicia would have followed, Luke caught hold of her arm.

  “Let him go, Alicia. He wants to be alone right now. He’ll lock himself in his room until he’s ready to talk.”

  Distressed, she stared after the child. “But shouldn’t one of us make sure he’s all right?”

  “It’s Daffy he wants right now. She gives him more comfort than you or I could.”

  As she hesitated, torn with indecision, footsteps pounded up the s
tairs, and somewhere above them, a door crashed shut. Luke set a drink on the table in front of her and took the chair Ronnie had vacated.

  Silence followed.

  She poked at one of the ice cubes. “Why didn’t you bring him to the memorial service?” she asked suddenly. “Everyone thought it was very odd.”

  “I don’t give a damn what everyone thought,” he answered with unexpected harshness. “I wasn’t about to drag that kid some fifteen hundred miles so he could stand around and be brave while a bunch of morbid old ladies bawled into their handkerchiefs.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Alicia retorted. “And it wasn’t as though the...the bodies were there.” She swallowed hard. “It was a nice service. My parents missed seeing him. He should have been there and so should you.”

  “Don’t tell me what I should have done, Alicia. You did what you thought was right and so did I. Funerals don’t do anybody any good. Especially not six-year-olds.”

  “In your opinion,” she murmured, raising her eyes to challenge him.

  “That’s right, in my opinion.” His mouth set in a grim line. “If his grandparents want to see him, they can come to Houston.”

  “You’re being unfair. Remember, they’ve lost a child.”

  “And that kid up there—” Luke’s finger stabbed the air above his head “—lost a mother and father. As far as I’m concerned, his needs come first. Not yours, not mine. Don’t forget, I know what it feels like.”

  Alicia’s mouth opened and shut. “Luke, I—I’m sorry. I did forget. I mean, I didn’t exactly forget, but it never hit me until this moment that you were Ronnie’s age when...”

  “When I got dragged to my old lady’s funeral,” he finished. He looked away, giving her a view of his profile. “I had nightmares for months afterward. Bad ones,” he added, an edge to his voice.

  Alicia absorbed this in silence, wondering why he had never told her that. And here she had been thinking him callous. But he’d spoken little of his past during the months they had been together.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she admitted. “It just seems like it must be hard for him to understand what’s happened. The service might have given him a chance to say goodbye.”