The Texan's Suite Romance. Judy Christenberry
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to be touched.
He withdrew at once.
“Sorry.” Tabitha pulled her hand back, but she couldn’t let him sit there without trying to find out what his problem was. “Alex, please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you until you do.”
“I had promised myself I’d stop being difficult. I did the interview, trying to sell books. Then I realized I’d betrayed Jenny! I was using her to sell books!”
Tabitha drew a deep breath. There was no doubt that his anguish was real. After reading the book herself, she knew he and his wife had shared a deep love. Slowly, she said, “I thought you wanted people to know Jenny, to appreciate her.”
“I did! But—but the longer the interview went on, the more I—” He buried his head in his hands again.
“Alex, the reason you wrote the book is because you thought you had learned something that would help other people, right?”
He nodded.
“Well, if they don’t read the book, they won’t understand what you have to say. You didn’t betray Jenny. She would want your book to be a success even if she didn’t believe in what you wrote. But she did. It’s obvious in the book. She believed in you and loved you.”
“But—”
“Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you did exactly what Jenny would want you to do.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.” Alex straightened his shoulders. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I assure you I am. Now, eat your cake and drink the coffee.” She did the same, but she kept an eye on Alex. It appeared to her he’d panicked because he hadn’t discussed his wife or their marriage with anyone before. Today, he’d been forced to open up a little. And it bothered him.
Slowly, he calmed down, thanks to the coffee and cake. She hoped he’d be in shape for his signing, which would start in less than an hour.
When he’d almost finished, she said, “How would you feel about returning to the station to tell Helen the truth?”
His head snapped up. “Why would I do that?”
“People are going to find out that Jenny is dead. When Helen finds out, she’s going to feel that you lied to her. She did a really good job with the interview. If you take her into your confidence, she won’t be angry. She’ll be flattered.”
She thought he wasn’t going to answer. He merely sat there, staring over his coffee cup at an unseen spot on the wall behind her.
Finally, he said, “I suppose you’re right.”
He stood, looking down at her. “You’re going with me, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” She rose at once, but cast a longing look at the rest of her carrot cake.
They walked the half block back to the studio. Just as they reached it, Helen Wilson walked out.
“Helen,” Alex called.
She turned around and came over to them. “Alex, I thought you left long ago.”
“We did, but I—”
“I thought you were going to get something to eat.”
Alex frowned at Tabitha, as if suddenly debating the wisdom of her advice. “We were, but we decided to wait until after the signing.”
“I see. Then what—”
“I need to tell you something.” Alex was concentrating on what he had to say so much, Tabitha didn’t think he even realized he’d interrupted Helen.
“Yes, of course,” she said, moving closer.
“My wife is dead.”
“Dead? Jenny is dead?” Helen responded, sounding a bit alarmed.
Tabitha, sensing the woman’s train of thought, stepped forward when it appeared Alex wasn’t going to explain. “Jenny died a year ago, in a car accident.” She could see the alarm on Helen’s face slowly dissipate, to be replaced by confusion. Tabitha continued, “Alex had started the book while she was alive and finished it as a tribute to their love. He was afraid if he let people know she’d died, they might buy the book out of sympathy. And he also has difficulty talking about Jenny.”
“Well, of course, I understand.”
“You were so kind today, Alex didn’t want you to think he’d lied to you.”
“Oh, Alex,” Helen cooed, moving closer and taking his hand in hers. “You are so wonderful. Let me buy you dinner after the book-signing. We have so much in common. I’m a widow, you know.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I have to run now, but I’ll see you at the bookstore.”
Before either Alex or Tabitha could speak, she was gone.
Alex turned slowly around to stare at her. “That’s the last time I’ll take your advice!” he exclaimed.
“I didn’t expect her to—to immediately see you as a potential mate,” Tabitha protested.
“What? A potential mate? She’s at least ten years older than me!”
“Age doesn’t matter much these days.”
“It matters to me. Besides, I’m not looking for a woman.”
“I guess you could develop a headache when she arrives,” Tabitha suggested with a grin.
“I have a better idea,” Alex said, glaring at her.
“Uh-oh, I don’t think I’m going to like it.”
“Probably not. But you’re going with us.”
“No! I wasn’t invited!”
“I assumed she meant both of us.” He smiled at her, and then he pointed out that they needed to get to the bookstore.
Tabitha checked her watch and realized they only had twenty minutes before they were supposed to be there. The bookstore people had asked them to arrive half an hour early.
Once they were in the taxi, she tried again. “Alex, I can’t go with you. She didn’t invite me!”
“Either you go with me or I tell Helen I refuse to go with her, which will upset her.”
“It’s going to upset her even more if I play chaperone.”
“What would Mona do?”
“That’s unfair, Alex!”
“I think Mona would protect me from a man-hungry woman.”
“I think you’re a fraud, Alex Myerson. You handled Helen just fine in the interview. You can survive dinner with her.” She held her breath, hoping her challenge would convince him.
He looked at her and shook his head, a grin slowly forming on his lips. A very charming grin. No wonder Helen was after him.
“Fine! I’ll go with you. But you owe me, Alex. No more being difficult.”
“Agreed.” Then he drew a deep breath. “I really appreciate your getting me through this evening. I won’t fall apart again.”
“Just doing my job,” she said with a smile. “Though I’ll admit I was thinking about resigning earlier.”
He suddenly turned serious. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
When the taxi pulled up in front of the bookstore, Tabitha hurriedly paid the driver. Alex got out of the taxi and stood there, holding the door open for her. She scooted across the seat and stepped out.
“We’re right on time,” she announced. Taking his arm, she started