A Child of Her Own Read online

  “Sometimes I Wish I Hadn’t Been So Damned Noble.”

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Books by Beverly Barton

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  “Sometimes I Wish I Hadn’t Been So Damned Noble.”

  Rick pulled Lori Lee into his arms, crushing her breasts to his chest, pressing her against him. “I should have taken you with me that night and said to hell with your innocence and with the barriers that stood between us.”

  Lori Lee pulsated deep in the secret heart of her body. Longings more intense than any she’d ever known radiated through her. “I’ve always wondered what it would have been like with you.”

  “I’d have been your first, if I’d taken you that night.”

  The words were a statement, not a question. All the guys had known that Lori Lee Guy didn’t put out, that she was waiting for Prince Charming....

  Dear Reader,

  A book from Joan Hohl is always a delight, so I’m thrilled that this month we have her latest MAN OF THE MONTH, A Memorable Man. Naturally, this story is chock-full of Joan’s trademark sensuality and it’s got some wonderful plot twists that are sure to please you!

  Also this month, Cindy Gerard’s latest in her NORTHERN LIGHTS BRIDES series, A Bride for Crimson Falls, and Beverly Barton’s “Southern sizzle” is highlighted in A Child of Her Own. Anne Eames has the wonderful ability to combine sensuality and humor, and A Marriage Made in Joeville features this talent.

  The Baby Blizzard by Caroline Cross is sure to melt your heart this month—it’s an extraordinary love story with a hero and heroine you’ll never forget! And the month is completed with a sexy romp by Diana Mars, Matchmaking Mona.

  In months to come, look for spectacular Silhouette Desire books by Diana Palmer, Jennifer Greene, Lass Small and many other fantastic Desire stars! And I’m always here to listen to your thoughts and opinions about the books. You can write to me at the address below.

  Enjoy! I wish you hours of happy reading!

  Lucia Macro

  Senior Editor

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S. : 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  BEVERLY BARTON

  A CHILD OF HER OWN

  Books by Beverly Barton

  Silhouette Desire

  Yankee Lover #580

  Lucky in Love #628

  Out of Danger #662

  Sugar Hill #687

  Talk of the Town #711

  The Wanderer #766

  Cameron #796

  The Mother of My Child #831

  Nothing But Trouble #881

  The Tender Trap #1047

  A Child of Her Own #1077

  *The Protectors

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  This Side of Heaven #453

  Paladin’s Woman #515

  Lover and Deceiver #557

  The Outcast #614

  *Defending His Own #670

  *Guarding Jeannie #688

  *Blackwood’s Woman #707

  BEVERLY BARTON

  has been in love with romance since her grandfather gave her an illustrated book of Beauty and the Beast. An avid reader since childhood, she began writing at the age of nine and wrote short stories, poetry, plays and novels throughout high school and college. After marriage to her own “hero” and the births of her daughter and son, she chose to be a full-time homemaker, a.k.a. wife, mother, friend and volunteer.

  When she returned to writing, she joined Romance Writers of America and helped found the Heart of Dixie chapter in Alabama. Since the release of her first Silhouette book in 1990, she has won the GRW Maggie Award, the National Readers’ Choice Award and has been a RITA finalist. Beverly considers writing romance books a real labor of love. Her stories come straight from the heart, and she hopes that all the strong and varied emotions she invests in her books will be felt by everyone who reads them.

  For my daughter, Badiema Beaver Waldrep, and

  her friend Beth Bange, the two prettiest girls to ever

  grace the Deshler High School majorette line, and

  Mandy Hall Files, former lovely DHS drum major.

  And a special thanks to my good friend and a lady who,

  as far as I’m concerned, should always be center stage,

  Brenda Hall. I appreciate your sharing a hundred

  and one interesting details with me about your

  daughter Beth Bange’s Quad-Cities Twirlers,

  National and World Champions.

  One

  Carrying a steel gray toolbox, Rick Warrick entered the Dixie Twirlers studio and immediately realized half a dozen women were sizing him up. Not that he wasn’t used to the fairer sex paying attention to him, but these weren’t good-time girls at a local bar. These were wives and mothers, some of them the cream of local society. Glancing around the huge open room, he noticed that the decor was definitely feminine, everything done in various shades of pink and lavender, with gold and silver accents. Surveying the bevy of ladies seated together in a lounge section at the back of the room, he didn’t see the studio’s owner, Ms. Lori Lee Guy, who had called for a repairman.

  His partner, Bobo Lewis, had brought him up-to-date on Lori Lee’s life. She was a hometown girl who’d gone to the University of Alabama as a majorette, become homecoming queen and snagged herself a star quarterback. Although he had feigned indifference to Bobo’s gossip, Rick had been interested. It wasn’t that he’d been carrying a torch for Lori Lee all these years—he hadn’t—but he still considered her “the perfect female.” He had come to that conclusion when he’d been eighteen and fantasized about scoring with Deshler High School’s head majorette. Having seen her recently in passing on the street hadn’t changed his opinion.

  A hot, jazzy tune drifted down from upstairs, mingling with the sound of dozens of feet tapping and interspersed with childish giggles.

  “I’m looking for Ms. Guy,” Rick said, not localizing his stare, but taking in all six of the women. “She called about the heat.”

  A plump redhead dressed in a multicolored sweat suit stood and, swaying her hips provocatively, sauntered over to Rick. “You’re Rick Warrick, aren’t you? I heard you were back in town and working for Bobo Lewis.”

  “I’m Bobo’s partner,” Rick corrected her. He wished it wasn’t so important to him for people to know he was more than a hired hand. But dammit, it was important. Because that’s all he’d ever been until he’d come home to Tuscumbia and bought half-ownership in Bobo’s heating and air-conditioning business. “I’m sorry, ma’am, do we know each other?”

  She smiled, deep dimples scoring her round cheeks. “You probably don’t remember me from high school. We didn’t run in the same circle, but all of us good girls had crushes on you.” She held out her pudgy hand. Expensive rings adorned several fingers and a diamond tennis bracelet circled her wrist. “I’m Deanie Webber. I used to be Deanie Smith.”

  Rick couldn’t recall the woman, but he admired her honesty and liked her genuinely friendly manner. “It’s nice to see you again, Deanie. You must have a kid who takes baton lessons here.”

  “Yes. She’s one of the little darlings upstairs freezing to death,” Deanie said. “Twinkle
Toes are rehearsing right now. They’re the talented six-to-nine-year-olds. All of us have daughters in the group.”

  “I suppose Ms. Guy is up there.” Rick nodded toward the staircase.

  “Yes, go on up. I don’t think they’re doing much practicing. It’s too cold.” Deanie crossed her arms across her ample bosom and patted herself on her arms. “Lori Lee will be glad to see you. Do you think you can get the heat working soon?”

  “I’ll give it my best shot once I find the trouble.” Rick glanced over Deanie’s shoulder at the five other women who were boldly staring at him.

  He bounded up the stairs, wanting to escape the ladies’ inspection. He heard a buzzing of female voices, the words bad boy, heartbreaker and always in trouble following his ascent to the second floor.

  The second story was a large, open space with a row of windows across the front of the building and well-worn hardwood flooring. Music blared from a jam-box sitting on the wooden floor. Six little girls of various sizes circled their teacher, each child trying to talk at once.

  Rick cleared his throat. No one noticed. “Excuse me. I’m A. K. Warrick. I’m here from Lewis Heating and Air.”

  Suddenly silence claimed the children as all heads turned in Rick’s direction. Lori Lee Guy, her hand on a child’s shoulder, looked across the room and, for one split second, her heart stopped beating. The black-haired man standing there in his faded jeans, ratty navy sweater and old brown leather jacket took her breath away. Big, tall and badly in need of a shave and a haircut, he dominated the room with his powerful masculine presence.

  “Hello,” Lori Lee said, amazed that she could speak with her heart caught in her throat. “The heat’s not working. It was fine yesterday, but when I came over this afternoon to turn up the thermostat, it wouldn’t kick on.”

  “If you’ll show me where the unit is, I’ll check it out.” Rick tried not to stare too hard. He didn’t want to be obvious in his survey, but this was the closest he’d been to her in fifteen years, and he was tempted to drink his fill. She was even more beautiful now than she’d been as a teenager. She was still round and curvy in all the right places. Full breasted, wide hipped, long legged. A trim, hourglass figure. But a mature elegance had replaced her fresh, youthful innocence.

  The picture of casual loveliness in her pale blue winter tights and her oversize white mid-thigh sweater, Lori Lee glided across the floor, followed by her pint-size entourage. Her shoulder-length blond ponytail bounced up and down on her back.

  “The unit’s in the basement, I’m afraid. It’ll be even colder down there. I don’t know why the heat had to go out the first week in January.” Lori Lee paused before she reached Rick’s side, turned abruptly, placed her hands on her hips and faced the children. “Go on downstairs, and as soon as I’ve shown Mr. Warrick to the basement I’ll come up and we’ll discuss the Gadsden competition.”

  She shuffled the girls ahead of her, sending them scurrying down to their mothers. Rick stood aside as she walked past him, then followed her down the steps.

  “I heard he’s been in the penitentiary,” a female voice said.

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” another woman said. “Remember how he was always in trouble?”

  “He still looks dangerous, doesn’t he?” A third voice asked. “And sinfully handsome.”

  “Whatever he’s been doing these past fifteen years doesn’t really matter,” Deanie Webber told them. “He’s trying to make something of himself now. Ever since he came back to Tuscumbia last summer, he’s been a model citizen.”

  Pausing on the stairway, Lori Lee glanced nervously at the man behind her. Even though he showed no indication, she knew he’d heard what was being said about him. She felt the tension emanating from his big body and saw his warm brown eyes turn hard and cold with pain. Instinctively her hand reached out in a comforting gesture, then her common sense took charge and prevented her from actually touching him.

  Rick and Lori Lee exchanged an electrically charged stare, the air around them sizzling explosively. Turning around sharply and taking a deep, calming breath, she walked downstairs and opened the door leading to the basement. She flipped on the light switch, revealing the narrow steps.

  “It’s dark and damp down here,” she said. “And a little spooky. There are closed-off tunnels that lead under Main Street.”

  As they descended the stairs, musty, dank brick walls surrounded them. A single light bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated the area. Cobwebs dangled from the rafters and spread across the corners like shimmery lace fans.

  “You don’t have to stay down here with me, Ms. Guy.” Rick set his toolbox on top of an old wooden crate. “I’ll check things out and see if I can find your problem.”

  “All right. If you don’t need me, I’ll go back up to my class.”

  “I don’t need you,” he said.

  For some reason Lori Lee felt that his words held a double meaning, as if he was warning her away, cautioning her to keep her distance. Did he realize the effect he had on her? Had her interest really been that obvious?

  She went back upstairs, hesitating on the top step. She closed her eyes as memories of a long-ago night surged through her. Rick Warrick, a boy with hooded dark eyes and a hungry expression who watched her from a distance, had shown up at a Friday night Debutante Club party after one of Deshler’s big games. He wasn’t one of their usual crowd and she’d never seen him at one of their parties before, but when she went out on the front porch to look for her boyfriend, Jimmy Davison, she encountered the town bad boy instead. Wearing a brown leather jacket, he leaned against one of the white columns, a beer in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth.

  Lori Lee’s instincts told her to run, that everything she’d heard about Rick Warrick was true. But her fascination with him, one she shared with almost every other teenage girl in town, overcame her better judgment and she approached him.

  “You can’t smoke or drink at a Debutante party,” Lori Lee told him. “It’s against the rules.”

  “Haven’t you heard? I don’t follow rules.” He tossed the cigarette down on the porch and ground it out with his boot heel.

  She was drawn to him, like a flowering plant to the nourishing sun. When she moved close enough to touch him, he set his beer can on the banister rail, grinned devilishly and jerked her into his arms. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in surprise and arousal, and her whole body tingled with trembling excitement.

  “You don’t want to play around with fire, honey. You’re liable to get burned.”

  He kissed her then, his lips covering hers, his tongue forcing her mouth open. She clung to his shoulders, her nails biting into the leather of his jacket. His mouth was hot and wet as it devoured hers. He tasted of smoke and alcohol. When she felt his hand on her buttock, she froze, suddenly aware of what a guy like Rick Warrick would expect from a girl. She was no saint, but she was still a virgin, and she planned on staying one while she was in high school.

  Releasing her, he gave her a gentle shove. She staggered backward. “Stay away from me, Lori Lee. I’m bad news for a girl like you.”

  She’d run from him. Back into the safety of the party. Away from temptation.

  Lori Lee opened her eyes, took a deep breath and walked out into the waiting area. Deanie Webber met her before she’d taken ten steps.

  “He’s still a hunk, isn’t he? I mean a drop-dead gorgeous hunk!” Deanie squeezed Lori Lee’s arm. “This bunch of biddies in here have been trashing the poor guy, but the truth of the matter is there’s not a one who wouldn’t love to have him eat crackers in her bed, if you know what I mean.”

  “Deanie, you’ll never change!” Lori Lee smiled at her best friend. “You’re as shameless as you were when we were kids.”

  “He didn’t remember me, but I’ll bet he remembered you,” Deanie said. “I think he always had a thing for you.”

  Ignoring Deanie’s last comment, Lori Lee approached her students and their mothers. �
�It’s too cold in here to get any real practicing done today. I’m afraid we’ll have to make it up Friday afternoon.”

  All the children groaned. The mothers grumbled.

  “I know it’ll be an inconvenience for all of us, but our next competition is a week from Saturday at Gadsden,” Lori Lee reminded them. “I have Twinkle Toes signed up in three categories. Dance-Twirl, Halftime Show Twirl Team and Halftime Show Dance Line.”

  “You have entered Steffie in the solo events we discussed, haven’t you?” Mara Royce turned up her tiny pug nose and beamed her hundred-watt phony smile.

  “I’ve entered Steffie in one solo event.” Lori Lee often wished that Mara hadn’t enrolled her only child in the Dixie Twirlers. The little girl was a spoiled brat, and in Steffie’s case, the apple certainly hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Mara Royce was a royal pain in the backside. But the woman possessed an enviable position in town. Her father was president of the largest bank in the county and her husband was a highly respected orthodontist.

  “I really think Steffie is ready for—” Mara protested.

  “Everything is set for the Gadsden competition,” Lori Lee said. “Mara, we can discuss this again before we go to Clanton in February.”

  “We most certainly will discuss it.” Mara tilted her sharp chin and pursed her thin lips into a pout.

  “Y’all might as well go on home and practice. Hopefully, we’ll have some heat by tomorrow.” Lori Lee glanced at the partially open door leading to the basement. Once everyone left, she’d be alone in the studio with Rick Warrick. The thought unnerved her and yet excited her.