hold your breath, little sister,” Toby muttered.
The smile on Heather’s face faded. Although she could only imagine what transpired between them, she assumed herself to be the butt of an unflattering remark. Miranda patted her on the arm.
“Don’t mind them, dear. No matter how many times their mother has told them that it’s impolite to whisper in front of others, they persist in misbehaving. You can imagine how I earned all this gray hair raising such headstrong children.”
Heather could see little gray in Miranda Danforth’s hair. She was truly a beautiful woman. Both inside and out. Indeed, her own mother made her feel more an outsider in her own home than Miranda had a guest—and a servant at that.
“I’m sorry,” Genie said, looking truly apologetic. But then she took a deep breath and said in a rush, “I know it’s way too early to start foisting anyone as ornery as Toby on someone as sweet as you, and he seems to think you have better taste than to ever hook up with someone as ill mannered as he is. But as someone just recently married to a man who not so long ago referred to marriage as the worm that hides the hook, I feel I’m in a unique position to point out what a mistake my thickheaded brother would be making if he let you get away.”
“Genie!”
Howard Danforth seemed to be the only one able to control his daughter, with nothing more than a firm parental look. Though she ceased her teasing immediately, her eyes still twinkled mischievously. Heather wasn’t sure how to react to earning the Danforth Family Seal of Approval.
Again Howard stepped forward to intervene. “We are very grateful to you,” he said, looking at Heather directly and making her wish that her own father approved of her half as much as this veritable stranger. “What you are doing for Dylan—as well as for my son—is beyond price. We will be forever in your debt. Please come back and visit us again soon.”
Surprised how much the invitation meant to her, Heather was at a loss for words. Then a little voice said, “Bye-bye.”
The Danforths all gasped and looked at Dylan, who’d wrapped his arms around his father’s neck.
“What did you say?” Toby said, stunned.
Dylan responded with a giggle.
“He said ‘bye-bye,”’ Peter repeated, shaking his head in disbelief that all the adults gathered about had simultaneously gone deaf.
Since Peter appeared to be the only one not taken aback by Dylan’s words, Heather wondered if it was possible that the two boys had been conversing behind their backs for the past few days. Intermittent tears of joy and laughter surrounded the little imp’s accomplishment. Though Toby claimed it was all Heather’s doing, she was more inclined to think a combination of solid parenting and the unconditional support of an extended family was what prompted the child to speak up. That and an apparent eagerness to put his relatives’ mushy goodbyes behind him.
“I told you he’d talk when he was ready. And without having to be bribed with cookies, either,” Heather told Toby a tad too smugly a short while later as she cinched the seat belt around her.
She prepared for takeoff by staring straight ahead and doing her best not to hyperventilate. Dylan was still enthusiastically waving out the window to his family as their plane began to taxi down the runway.
“Give me your hand,” Toby commanded, peeling Heather’s fingers off the armrest.
His touch was at once both reassuring and unsettling. She found that she already missed Toby’s family. That she liked them was really no surprise. They were as charming and gregarious a clan as anyone could ever hope to meet. What really surprised Heather was that they seemed to genuinely like her back. So naturally shy that she was often mistaken as being aloof, Heather was touched that Genie would actually broach the subject of marriage to her brother.
Given the baggage that both she and Toby carried from past relationships, the odds were not good that either one would be making a commitment any time soon.
Yet the calluses on the hand that held Heather’s comforted her during takeoff. Her own hands, once unused to traveling over nothing rougher than ivory keys, would have to adapt to soapy water and pulling weeds in rocky flowerbeds and kneading homemade bread. Such working hands longed for the touch of a good man at the end of a day’s work.
“It’s going to be all right.”
She knew Toby was referring to many things—Dylan’s speech, the flight to Wyoming and the fact that his family’s teary goodbye had affected him. Tears had been shed the last time Heather had spoken to her own parents, but they were the hot, angry tears of deep disappointment.
“If you renounce your music, you can renounce your name as well. And any monetary help from us, too,” James Burroughs shouted. “You will be as good as dead to me.”
Recalling how her father predicted she would either come crawling back, ready to live her life on his terms, or wind up as trailer trash with a half- dozen rug rats to support on a waitress’s income, Heather wished there was some way she could adopt Toby’s parents. The thought prompted her to ask, “Why would anyone leave such a family?”
“It’s not like I’m disowning them,” Toby protested. “I’m just following my own dream. They respect that and wish me well.”
He sounded so defensive that it made Heather wonder if he practiced that particular speech for the benefit of other family members or to convince himself. She wished she could somehow convey how lucky he was to have such a supportive family.
“I’m glad,” she told him. “Not all parents are as understanding as yours. It would break my heart to see either you or Dylan estranged from such good people.”
Toby gave her a long and searching look in response. He started to say something but seemed to think the better of it. Instead, he drew her attention to the fact that the plane had reached cruising altitude and suggested that she could relax now.
Heather was surprised that their conversation had so completely distracted her. Still, she was glad that Toby didn’t let go of her hand as her fear abated. Looking out the window at the clouds, she pondered the fact that life in the South seemed to proceed at a more leisurely pace than what she was used to. The weather didn’t necessitate that residents scurry from place to place in an attempt to escape the elements. That Toby deliberately chose to abandon the life of ease into which he’d been born mirrored Heather’s own inclination to take a road less traveled. As beautiful as she found Georgia, the harsh climate of Wyoming suited her better. The weather there reflected her tendency to run alternately hot and cold on issues of the heart. Both extremes were potentially dangerous.
Only time would tell whether fire or ice would dominate.
Nine
Away from the glamour of Savannah and his family’s resolve to marry him off, Toby Danforth was convinced he would be better able to resist Heather’s allure. After all, few social events in Wyoming would require anything as glitzy as the dress she wore for his uncle’s fund-raiser. Not that he would ever be able to get the vision of her in that slinky gown out of his head.
Or the memory of her lips upon his.
Toby was counting on the physical demands and grueling routine of ranch work to settle his libido so that he could do what was in the best interest
