He laughed and squeezed her shoulder. “You’d take the old man out with you? Thanks, but I’ll pass this time.”
“You’re not that much older than my crowd and you’re not as old as some of them.” She smiled at him and touched his arm. “Think about it. Also, I’m a cochairman for the Heart Ball—”
He stopped her with a grin. “I’ll take a table and however many tickets that means.”
“Ahhh, thank you! It’s still three months away but it’s never too soon to sell tickets.” She opened her red sports car and turned back to him. This time he noticed her expression had sobered. “Ben told you about Dad, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, he did. I’ll go by and talk to Dad soon. He has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”
“It breaks my heart, but I don’t want to be sad around them. He seems to be doing okay, but I’m sure you see a difference.”
“Of course I do.” He reached out to her. “If you want a shoulder to cry on, I’ve got one.”
She gazed up at him. “There will be times I’ll need it. You’re a wonderful big brother.”
He smiled and pulled her to him in a hug. When he released her, he held open her car door, then closed it when she was in. “See you soon,” he said as he turned for his car. As he opened his car door, he glanced back to see her backing out of her parking place. He left, driving to the condo he maintained in Dallas while he thought about his dad, and then his thoughts shifted to Camilla. He would see her—after all this time. His pulse beat faster when he thought about her while at the same time memories of the past clutched at his heart. He had put this meeting off long enough. Even though it might very well open old wounds, the time had come to see her and fulfill his promise.
Stefanie
Stefanie drove to her condo in downtown Dallas. She ran a family office in a suburban area, but she liked the town condo. When she was inside, she walked to the window to look out at the city without really seeing it. Her thoughts were lost on her oldest brother. She was thankful he was home. Noah had a steadying influence on everyone in the family.
She could hear the gruffness in his voice when she had asked about Camilla, and her anger flashed. She’d liked Camilla—until she’d hurt Noah. She’d hurt him before he ever left for overseas and that had worried Stefanie. She’d feared he wouldn’t have his mind on his job as much if he was worried about Camilla—something that could be fatal in hostile territory.
She thought about Camilla, who was pursuing an art career. Stefanie had always wondered if she had married to spite Noah because her husband was gone in a couple of months. Camilla probably hadn’t planned on a pregnancy. The guy hadn’t even wanted his baby.
Stefanie thought about Noah, looking preoccupied tonight, learning about their dad and coming home to unhappiness with Camilla. Noah needed to meet someone, someone who was fun to be with, someone who would get him over his breakup.
Stefanie knew some really gorgeous women who would be perfect for Noah. She knew two women in particular who came to mind right away. Better still, one of them was going to be in Vivian Warner’s wedding party when Thane’s widow remarried next week. She could call Vivian. Noah needed someone who would make him happy.
And Stefanie needed to think of a way to get Camilla away from Dallas and out of her brother’s life.
If Camilla was away from Dallas, maybe Noah would be more interested in going out and meeting new friends.
Camilla
In her large art studio at her Dallas home, Camilla stepped back to look at the canvas on an easel. She had a commissioned family portrait of two children she was painting from a picture she had taken with her iPad. She usually got up early to paint while Ethan slept. She would hear him on the monitor when he stirred.
It was quiet, peaceful in her studio, and on breaks from painting, she could watch the sunrise over her backyard.
Light spilled into the room and over easels holding watercolor paintings, charcoal drawings and portraits. One wall held a massive landscape painting. There were shelves filled with art bottles of acrylic paints and tubes of oils. Two sinks were near a worktable. Sunshine splashed through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that gave a broad view of her gardens. Stacks of drawings and prints were in bins along a wall. She had a patio door open to let fresh air in and a slight paint smell out. She had a studio in her condo, another studio in an office in downtown Dallas, but this was her favorite place to paint. She also had an art gallery in Dallas.
As she cleaned her brushes, she glanced over at a black-and-white pencil sketch propped on top of a cabinet holding her paints. The sketch was Noah, one she had done from a picture after they started dating. She still liked it. All in shades of black and gray on a white background, she had made his eyes a vivid blue, trying to reproduce the color of them. He had a faint smile and his black hair was its usual unruly tangle. That mass of tangled curls was gone when she last saw him with his military cut.
She stared at his picture a moment, dreading seeing him again while at the same time missing him, wondering what the future held. Guilt plagued her and memories taunted her, memories of his kisses, moments in his arms.
With a shake of her head, she continued to put away brushes and pencils. In the cabinet were scrapbooks with printouts of pictures and artwork she had done.
She had attended a musical at the Music Hall last night, and during the performance, her mind had wandered to Noah. He was out of the military now.
On the wall behind a massive wooden desk was a wall calendar with the art jobs she had pending and due dates. She had appointments written in, important events she would attend, including her widowed sister-in-law’s upcoming wedding. Noah would be there and their paths would cross.
She thought over what she’d heard: Noah Grant was home. She couldn’t get him out of her thoughts. She couldn’t understand her reaction to hearing the news. She hadn’t seen him for two years, not since he’d been home on furlough. Even back then he was exactly what she disliked in a man—a take-charge male—yet when she heard he was back, her heart had raced and longing shook her. For just an instant, she forgot their fights and arguments and remembered only the good moments. Noah making her laugh, Noah holding her, kissing her. Noah taking her to bed, where she’d run her hands over his smooth back. Noah—
Stop it.
She had to listen to that sane inner voice telling her to rein in those errant memories. Yes, they’d had moments of ecstasy, of bliss, but those times were over.
So why did the mere anticipation of seeing him make her heart flutter? Why did she have such an intense reaction to him?
Their last time together had ended in a bitter breakup and she had been the one who’d enacted it. She told him they had no future. She had a father who made all the decisions and ran their house with an iron fist. All her life her mother had given in to her dad. Too far back to remember exactly when, Camilla had vowed she would never live a life where she had to constantly give in to someone else about everything. She had to make some of her own decisions beyond what she would wear and whom she’d invite to the next party.
Her brother, as much as she had loved Thane, had been another take-charge man. But she wouldn’t allow herself to choose a man like that for a husband.
At least her dad led a quiet life. Noah, on the other hand, liked challenges.
Noah and she were such opposites that she couldn’t understand the attraction she felt. She was going to Shakespeare in the Park tonight. Noah would never go with her to Shakespeare, the opera or the ballet. He seldom went to art galleries with her. She loved city life, operas, chamber music, her art. Noah was a billionaire rancher, but a cowboy at heart. He loved his ranch, boot-scootin’ honky-tonks, country music, competing in rodeos, flying his planes. He was exuberant, filled