And keeping his past in the past—and private—was old. The oldest habit he had.
But she was waiting quietly, patiently, and for some unfathomable reason, he didn’t want to disappoint her.
“That’s a deep, dark secret around here,” he said at last.
“How deep? How dark?”
As she’d done, he pretended to need a moment to think about it. “Well, you’re the only person in Oklahoma who even knows I was married.”
“Of course, Neely and Reese aren’t in Oklahoma right—” She broke off when he shook his head. “They don’t know?”
He shook his head again.
“Then why did you tell me?”
“That’s a good question.” She’d been looking a little blue, her mother and Neely had trampled on her feelings, and she’d looked so wounded. He’d wanted… To let her know she wasn’t the only one who’d failed? That he understood at least something of what she felt?
“What happened?”
He had never discussed his marriage or his divorce with anyone—not once in fourteen years. There had been one oblique conversation with Reese a while back, but he hadn’t said enough to give away any of the facts. There was no reason why he should break his silence now, and no reason at all why he should break it with this woman.
But when he opened his mouth to say so, the wrong words came out. “Her name was Sandra. We were married three years, until I found out she was—” How had Hallie put it? “—boffing half the guys in town.”
“So we both married people with exquisitely bad taste,” she remarked.
“Looks like.” He glanced at his watch. He got an hour for lunch, but he usually took less than half that. Today, for the first time he could recall, he wasn’t anxious to get back to work.
“Will you be staying at Neely’s apartment while they’re gone?”
“She offered, but I’d rather not. It would feel intrusive.” She fiddled with her drinking straw for a moment, then gave him a direct look. “I understand you were there the night Reese’s house got shot up.”
He nodded.
“Neely says you saved her life.”
“She’s got it backward. She and Reese saved my life.”
Hallie knew better. Neely didn’t get things turned around. She was the best darn lawyer in this part of the country, and she always had her facts straight. She hadn’t offered a lot of details about that night in June—being the oldest sister and mother hen, she felt it was her responsibility to protect the younger ones from anything that might worry them—but she’d told them enough to know it was terrifying.
Eddie Forbes, a criminal Neely had sent to prison when she was working as a prosecutor in Kansas City, had sworn revenge on her, and when he got out, he put out a contract on her life. One of the men trying to cash in on it had shot Reese, and a whole gang of them, including Forbes himself, had tracked them to Reese’s house in Heartbreak.
It was at that point Neely’s details had gotten a little fuzzy. All Hallie knew for sure was that Brady had gone to the house to help them, that he’d been willing to die to save Neely and that the house had been shot all to hell. Seven of the bad guys had died that night, including Forbes, shot by Neely herself.
Even weeks later in the middle of a hot, sunny day, the mere thought sent a shudder of revulsion through Hallie. God forbid, if she ever found herself in a similar situation, she hoped she would be as courageous as her sister.
“However it went,” she said, “you have the undying gratitude of the Madison family.”
A faint blush turned his cheeks crimson, and he shrugged awkwardly. “I was just doing my job.”
Right. And if she believed that, no doubt he’d have some fine swampland to offer, too.
Casting about for something to keep the conversation going, she seized one of the more mundane questions new acquaintances always asked. “Where are you from? Or is that another of your deep, dark secrets?”
“Not so deep or so dark, but…yeah. Only Reese knows that one.” He looked as if he wanted to drop it there, then took a breath and answered. “A dusty little town west of Dallas.”
“A Texan. Well, that explains a lot.” She softened the words with a smile. “Contrary to the opinions of every Texan I’ve ever met, being from Texas isn’t such a big deal.”
“You won’t get any argument from me. I left when I could, and I’ve never been back.”
“After the divorce?”
He nodded.
“So I take it you didn’t have any kids.”
A bitter look came across his face, and underneath the black mustache, his mouth thinned in a flat line. “No.”
“Me, neither.” That had been one of the issues in both her second and last marriages. She wanted kids—sometimes wanted them so badly her heart ached with it—and neither husband had been willing. Oh, Max had told her before the wedding sure, they would have all the babies she wanted, but after…. The time had never been right. Their lives were too busy. A baby wouldn’t fit into their lifestyle. He didn’t want the bother. Finally he’d quit making excuses and had told her straight out—no kids, not while she was married to him.
Which side of the question had Brady come down on? Had he wanted a little boy to play football with or a delicate little girl to pamper and protect? Or did he consider children a nuisance that would interfere with his own pleasures?
“What are your plans for this afternoon?” he asked.
“I’m driving over to Heartbreak to meet the contractor at the house. His name’s Dane Watson. Do you know him?”
“I know who he is. He’s a good builder. Honest. And single.”
She gave him a dry look. The only man in the entire state of Oklahoma—heck, in the entire world—whose marital status mattered to her was sitting across from her. It didn’t matter how desperate she was or how handsome and sexy he was, she would not sleep with a married man.
He checked his watch again, and Hallie politely asked, “Am I keeping you from something?”
“Nope.”
“Well…” She hoped her sigh didn’t sound as regretful to him as it did to her. “I should probably go. It’s a bit of a drive to Heartbreak.”
“Yeah, and the penalty for speeding around here can be pretty stiff.”
It was a simple observation, and she was in a sorry state when the first interpretation to pop into her mind was lascivious, if not downright dirty. Now it was her own cheeks turning pink as she stood up, then slung her purse strap over one shoulder. She reached for her trash, but he picked it up first, threw it away, then followed her out the door.
“Where are you parked?” he asked as they stood on the sidewalk under the blistering sun.
“Across from the courthouse. Where are you headed?”
“Same direction.”
She looked in store windows as they walked, but more often than not, her attention was on Brady’s reflection rather than the merchandise. “I can’t wait for the chance to go prowling through all these antique stores. I love neat old stuff.”
“Some of these places would be better labeled junk stores,” he warned.
She