for the last one, pulling it out and tipping it into the box.
He muttered an oath and set down the tray. “Tara—”
“Axel Clay, is that you?” A bright, female voice accosted them from across the gymnasium.
“We will talk,” he told Tara before turning to greet the curly-haired blonde aiming for him. “Hey, Dee. How’s it going?”
The young woman unabashedly threw her arms around him, giving him an exuberant hug. “I’m going to have to give Sarah a lashing. She didn’t tell me you were coming home. We all thought you were still in Europe trying to buy up some fancy horse. Hi, Tara,” she added absently.
Under other circumstances, Tara would probably have been amused by Deirdre Crowder’s actions. Dee was a teacher at the elementary school. She and Sarah Scalise—another teacher and Axel’s cousin—were frequent visitors to Classic Charms.
But it wasn’t “other circumstances,” and the day had taken its toll on Tara’s humor.
She was fresh out.
She nevertheless managed a casual response for Dee and took advantage of Axel’s diverted attention to quickly finish unloading the jewelry case. She couldn’t help but overhear Axel telling Dee that his cousin hadn’t known about his arrival. She also couldn’t help but notice the way Dee kept her slender fingers latched onto Axel’s arm.
“Excuse me,” she told Dee, whose other hand was near the display case.
“Sorry.” Dee moved her hand, but didn’t take her attention away from Axel. “So, how long are you going to be around? We ought to all get together.”
Tara hefted the acrylic display unit off the table and perched it on the boxes, then slid out from behind the booth. She still needed to disassemble the clothing rack but she wasn’t going to listen to Dee, avowed man-hunter that she was, set up a date with Axel.
Without looking at them, she made her way to the storage room to retrieve her handcart that she’d left there after unloading her wares earlier that day. She pulled it out, struggling with the recalcitrant folding mechanism.
“Let me help you with that.”
Her shoulders drooped. Dee hadn’t kept Axel’s attention nearly long enough to suit her. That fact was probably as displeasing to Dee as it was to Tara.
“I don’t need help.” She jerked on the cart handles and it sprang into place. Her fingers narrowly avoided being pinched, but she gave Axel a smooth smile. “See?”
She wheeled the cart smartly around his tall form and headed back toward her booth. Her legs were no match for his, though, and he beat her there, only to block the boxes as if it would take dynamite to dislodge him.
Her lips tightened and she turned to the clothing rack, deftly dismantling the rods to fit into the last box. Still ignoring him, she pulled on her coat—a new one since she’d lost hers completely that night at the Suds-n-Grill—and wrapped her scarf around her neck. Pulling the loaded cart, she headed toward the gymnasium exit.
She hadn’t reached it yet when Joe Gage, the tall, balding elementary school principal, stepped through it. “Shutting down shop, Tara?” He held the glass door wide for her.
“I am. Thanks, Joe.” She maneuvered the cart through the doorway.
“We’ll see you at the dance tonight, right? This old guy expects to share a dance with you.” He grinned, a perfectly appealing man who’d been nothing but friendly to Tara in all the time she’d lived there.
She smiled and hoped he didn’t realize she hadn’t answered.
Behind Joe’s shoulder she could see Axel, purpose in his stride.
“Hey, Ax,” she heard Joe greet him as she hurried along the sidewalk. “Didn’t know you were back in town.”
She walked faster, not listening for Axel’s response. Her breath was hitching in her chest when she finally made it to her white SUV.
She set the cart upright and fished her keys out of her pocket to unlock the rear gate. It hadn’t even completely swung open when Axel arrived.
Her lips tightened but she stepped out of the way when he plucked the top box off the stack and slid it into the rear of her vehicle. He followed it up with the rest of her boxes, then with annoying ease, folded up the cart, turned it sideways, and slid it alongside the boxes.
He slammed the gate shut and turned his penetrating eyes her way. His sharply angled jaw was set. “You can either talk to me now, or talk to me later. But we will talk, Tara. There are things you need to know.”
And one gigantic thing she wasn’t ready for him—or anyone else in town, for that matter—to know.
But her time on that score was rapidly diminishing.
Not for the first time, she wondered why she didn’t just leave Weaver altogether. Her shop was a modest success there, but that was the only thing keeping her in the small town. That and the fact that it was the only place her brother knew where to reach her.
She bunched the key chain inside her fist. “I want to get these things returned to the store before the dance tonight.”
“Then I’ll come with you.”
“No!” The word came out more sharply than she intended, particularly when she could see people just a few rows away. “I—I’ll be at the dance,” she lied as she headed to the driver’s side door.
“That’s not the best place.”
It was the perfect place since she had no intention of being there.
She yanked open the door and climbed inside. “Take it or leave it,” she said and shut the door between them.
Then she pretended that her hands weren’t shaking as she shoved the key in the ignition and drove away like the bats of hell were hard on her heels.
Only Axel Clay was no bat.
He was the only man she’d slept with since her marriage of a minute when she’d been eighteen.
He was the man who’d left her flat after a weekend she couldn’t seem to get out of her heart or her head.
But worst of all, he was the father of the baby she was carrying.
Chapter Two
Axel stifled an oath as he watched the white SUV roar out of the school parking lot. He looked up at the pale winter sky and blew out a breath that made rings around his head.
No matter what Tara had said, he doubted that she’d be back for the dance that evening. What had he expected? That she’d welcome him back with open arms?
He’d had plenty of female encounters in his life; all with women who had played by exactly the same rules as he had. That weekend in Braden with Tara, though, had been different. She was different. She always had
