Texas Tall - Janet Dailey Page 0,21
matter, honey? Are you all right?”
“She’s fine.” Tori clutched her child closer. “Just a nightmare, that’s all.”
Will walked into the room and sat down on Erin’s opposite side. “We’re right here, girl.” His throat was still thick from sleep. “You’re safe.”
Still shaking, Erin freed her arms to wrap around both her parents. They held each other, the three of them, in a tight, awkward circle. Tori could feel Will’s warmth, feel the tension in his clasp. Whatever forces had separated them, they would unite in a heartbeat to protect their precious daughter.
“Talking might make you feel better, Erin,” Tori said. “Tell us about your dream.”
Erin swallowed hard. “There was this man—a man in a motorcycle helmet. He came in the front door with a gun. I heard him and came out of my room. I had a gun, too, right in my hand. I shot him. He fell down . . .” She sucked in air, as if struggling to breathe. “His helmet fell off, and it was you, Daddy. It was you I shot!” She broke into fresh sobs.
“No, don’t cry, honey.” Will’s arms tightened around her. “It was just a dream. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”
Erin pulled free, gazing up at Will with big, frightened eyes. “Daddy, are they going to put you in jail for shooting that man?”
The partial light from the hall etched black lines of anguish on Will’s face. When he spoke, his manner was confident. “Not much chance of that. I fired in self-defense, and I’ve got the best lawyer in Texas to help me prove it. So go back to sleep, and don’t worry your pretty head about it. Hear?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll try. But could you and Mom stay here for just a little while, till I fall asleep?”
“Sure.” Will’s eyes flickered toward Tori. “We’ll stay as long as you need us.” As Erin snuggled into the covers once more, he pulled a chair close to the bedside and sat down.
Tori rose, walked around to the other side and slipped under the coverlet next to her daughter. One arm lay across Erin’s shoulders, cradling her close. “Go to sleep,” she whispered. “It’s all right. You’re safe. We’re here with you.”
Tori closed her eyes. But she could only pretend to sleep. She was sharply aware of Will’s presence next to the bed, the sound of his breathing, the shifting of his weight on the chair. Her ex-husband was tough like his father, with the stubborn resolve and mental stamina to see him through any crisis. If he was worried about the outcome of the shooting—as he must be—he would keep it to himself and soldier on. But what about his tenderhearted young daughter? Erin’s nightmare had shown just how deeply affected she was. How would she cope if Will was put on trial, or was even convicted?
As Will’s attorney, Tori realized, it would be up to her to save her ex-husband—and in doing so, to save their daughter. Whatever else was on her agenda, it would have to be set aside, including her personal life. Only this case could be allowed to matter.
* * *
The dimmed light from the hall cast Will’s long shadow across the bed. Nestled in that shadow lay his slumbering daughter and the woman who’d walked out on him eight years ago, changing his life forever.
When they were married, he’d loved watching Tori sleep. But those days were long over. They’d ended when she’d returned from her father’s funeral in Florida, madder than a wet wildcat and ready to serve him with divorce papers. She’d stayed in the guest room long enough to find a place in town, and never shared his bed again.
His eyes traced the contours of Tori’s face—the chiseled bones, the creamy, golden skin. He could tell by the tautness of her breathing that she was only pretending to sleep. But seeing her with her eyes closed, one arm cradling their daughter, deepened the empty space inside him.
He’d wanted to be a good husband. But so many pressures—the ranch, his father, her need for a career, and finally his own jealousy—had driven a wedge between them. That wedge was still in place, and Tori’s new love interest was driving it even deeper.
As a man with a man’s needs, Will hadn’t remained celibate since the divorce. He’d had brief relationships, a few one-night stands and a few so-called arrangements with women who didn’t expect more than an occasional romp between the sheets. None of the