Sultry. Mary Baxter Lynn

something missing, because their relationship hadn’t endured.

      Maybe it was Mitch’s eyes, she mused. They were such an unusual shade of blue, which made them seem mysterious. When he’d stared at her that last time, she had wished she could dive into those eyes and learn all his secrets.

      Lindsay shivered, wondering if he thought the same thing about her. Talk about secrets—her heart was crowded with them.

      Suddenly tired of this craziness, Lindsay lurched up, only to groan again, having forgotten how sore her body was. Damn, but she was more out of shape than she’d imagined. Maybe she should be the one putting in some quality time on the other end of that shovel. She would bet Mitch could run forever and not know it. He looked in perfect physical condition.

      She shook her head, clearing him from her mind. He was the groundskeeper, for heaven’s sake. Even if she wanted to have sex with a man, it wouldn’t be with him.

      She peered at her watch and decided now would be as good a time as any to talk to Cooper—something she’d intended to do two days ago. And though she dreaded it, postponing it wasn’t going to make it any easier.

      Five minutes later, she knocked on his door. No answer. Frowning, she turned and made her way very gingerly down the stairs. She hoped he wasn’t on the golf course, for more reasons than one.

      Dolly was polishing the bottom part of the banister. When she saw Lindsay, she stopped and shook her head in disapproval.

      “Don’t say a word,” Lindsay warned.

      Dolly rolled her black eyes high and around. “You younguns don’t have any sense. None of y’all. Just beat up on your body when there’s no call for it.”

      “I know, Dolly. I’m guilty as charged.”

      “You need to see a doctor.”

      Lindsay tried to smile. “What I need is to stop hurting, and no doctor can remedy that.”

      Dolly merely shook her head, all the while muttering to herself.

      “Do you know if Daddy’s here?”

      “He’s on the porch, finishing his lunch.”

      “Thanks.”

      Moments later, Lindsay eased onto one of the colorful plush settees that faced Cooper.

      “Well, I see you’re still crippled,” he said, eyeing her up and down.

      “Don’t you start. Dolly’s already put in her two cents’ worth.”

      “And well she should,” Cooper responded briskly.

      Lindsay took a deep breath, trying to catalog her thoughts. “Do you have a minute to spare? I’d like to talk to you.” Before Cooper could say anything, she went on. “And it’s not about Peter, either.”

      “That’s all right,” Cooper said in a condescending manner. “We’ll save him for another time.”

      Red hot anger surged through Lindsay. She wasn’t fooled. She knew what was going on inside his head. Cooper saw her rebellion as a whim. He thought if he was simply indulgent and patted her on the head, she would come around to his way of thinking.

      “Go on,” he said into the silence, putting down the newspaper. “I’m listening.”

      Lindsay unclenched her fingers. “I had been thinking about this before your accident, only I hadn’t acted on it. Now I want to.”

      “What are you talking about, Lindsay?”

      His impatience was obvious, but she overlooked it and went on. “You know how much I’ve enjoyed the benefits I’ve reaped from working with the women’s shelter.”

      “Yes, though I can’t for the life of me see why. It would certainly not be my choice for you.”

      This was going to be harder than she’d figured. His mind was already closed. But she wasn’t about to turn back now. Besides, she didn’t really need his approval; she just wanted it.

      “Anyhow, there are some women at the shelter with children who could and would do better if they had any kind of help at all.”

      “You mean other than what the shelter provides?”

      Although Cooper’s tone sounded almost terse, at least he was listening. “That’s exactly what I mean. As you know, the shelter’s only temporary—a stopgap measure, if you will.”

      “So I can assume you’re about to suggest something more permanent, right?”

      Dismissing his patronizing and less-than-serious attitude, she forged on. “As a matter of fact, I am. I’m envisioning a place where those special families can live, go to school and access child care—all at no cost to them.”

      Cooper laughed, though without humor. “Surely you aren’t serious?”

      “I’m as serious as I’ve ever been about anything.”

      “Place? What kind of place, for God’s sake?”

      “A campus of sorts. Different buildings for different needs. Apartment-style complexes, a free-standing day-care center—” Lindsay broke off, her eyebrows coming together in a frown. “At this point, I’m not really sure. It’s still sketchy in my mind.”

      “In my mind, it’s preposterous,” Cooper sputtered, color surging into his face.

      Lindsay knew he was getting angry, but she didn’t care—as long as that anger didn’t harm him. She’d gone this far, and she wasn’t pulling back now, even though it would have been easier just to give in.

      “The primary aim of this venture or program or whatever you want to call it would be to get these young parents out of the welfare system and help them become contributing members of society.”

      “While that all sounds good, I don’t see it working.”

      “Why not?” Lindsay demanded.

      “Because it’s never worked before.”

      “No one’s ever tried what I’m proposing before.”

      “My point. That’s because it won’t work.”

      Lindsay’s eyes sparked. “I disagree. I think it will work and work well.”

      “So call our congressman and tell him,” Cooper said in an offhand manner. “Let him pursue it.”

      “I don’t want to call our congressman,” Lindsay said, her voice tight but even. “I want to spearhead it myself.”

      Cooper lunged to his feet. “That’s the craziest notion I’ve ever heard.”

      “It may be crazy, but it’s not impossible.”

      “Just say I thought it was a good idea—which I don’t—” Cooper added quickly “how the hell do you propose to pull it off?”

      “With lots of money and lots of time.”

      “Your money and your time, right?”

      Lindsay didn’t so much as blink under the harsh glare of his criticism and censure. “That and grants. There’s all kinds of money out there. You just have to know where to find it, then how to get it.”

      “And I suppose you do?”

      She ignored the mocking edge in his voice and said, “Of course not. I don’t have all the answers yet, but it’s something I really want to try. Something that will give my life direction.”

      “That’s baloney. Your life has direction. When you and Peter marry—”

      “Don’t, Daddy. Peter’s off-limits.”

      “As far as I’m concerned, this poppycock idea is what’s off-limits.”

      “I