clear that she wasn’t interested in a brief affair. No, she wouldn’t be. His instincts told him that Sheila was still the type of girl who’d want a long-term commitment from a guy. And he simply wasn’t the kind of man who made a woman promises he couldn’t keep.
Just as he downed the last spoonful of soggy flakes, the telephone rang. Damn, why couldn’t Tallie leave him alone! He jerked the receiver from the wall hook by the back door and growled into the phone.
“Yeah, what do you want now?”
“And hello to you, too,” Hank Bishop said.
“Hank?”
“Yep. Who’d you think it was?”
“Tallie,” Caleb replied. “Our little sister is driving me nuts trying to keep tabs on me from Nashville. You’d think with a husband, a baby and duties as first lady of the state, she wouldn’t have time to pester the hell out of me.”
Hank chuckled, the deep sound reverberating from his chest.
“Well, you know our Tallie. She can’t keep her nose out of everybody else’s business.”
“So, what’s up, big brother? Or are you checking on the washed-up has-been, too?”
“You’re going to have to stop feeling sorry for yourself sooner or later,” Hank said. “Why don’t you do all of us, yourself included, a big favor and make it sooner?”
Caleb snorted. “Humph. Straight to the heart of the matter, as always. You make it sound so easy. Just pick myself up by the bootstraps, dust myself off and do. . .do what, big brother? I wasn’t the smart, straight-arrow type like you. And I wasn’t the hell-raising rebel like Jake. All I ever wanted was to play baseball. Since I was just a little kid. Now, that’s gone. Forever. And I don’t have the slightest idea what to do with the rest of my life.”
“How about starting by being grateful you have the rest of your life.”
Caleb knew that his older brother meant well, but Hank didn’t know what it felt like to have his life out of control, his dreams destroyed and his future uncertain. No, Hank was the type who, no matter what happened, would always take charge and find a way to do the honorable thing. If Hank were in his shoes, he’d already have mapped out a new course for his future. But then, Hank was the smart brother. Caleb was the dumb jock.
“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “I suppose being a pitcher with a useless right arm is better than being dead.”
“Are you still moping around the old homestead?” Hank asked. “Haven’t you even been into town? I’ll bet folks are dying to see you and welcome the local hero back to Crooked Oak. And there’s probably more than one cute girl who’d like to ease your loneliness.”
Caleb chuckled. There was no point denying his ladykiller reputation, not to his own brother, who knew him better than anyone else alive. “As a matter of fact, I met a rather interesting woman the first day I came back.”
“I thought you hadn’t left the house.”
“This particular woman was here when I arrived. She’d aired out the place, brought in groceries and had my supper waiting for me.”
“Are you talking about Tallie’s friend? What’s her name? Mike Hanley’s kid sister? The one who married Dan Vance?”
“That’s the one. Sheila Vance.”
“If I remember correctly, I’d say the woman isn’t your usual type.”
“Maybe I’d like to try something different for a change,” Caleb said. “I’ve had my share of airheaded beauties. Sheila may be a plain Jane, but there’s something about her that—”
“It’s called quality,” Hank said. “Tallie thinks highly of Sheila. Seems she’s had it pretty rough, widowed so young and trying to raise a child on her own. Think twice before you use a woman like her to ease your loneliness.”
“If you’re warning me not to hurt Sheila, save your breath. Tallie’s already read me the riot act.”
“Good for her.” Hank cleared his throat. “Why don’t you come up to Virginia and stay with me for a while?”
“I might later on. But for now I just want to stay put to try to figure out who the hell Caleb Bishop is if he’s not the star pitcher for the Atlanta Braves.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Hank sighed loud enough for Caleb to hear him.
“Do me a favor, will you? Call our little sister and ask her to leave me alone, at least for a few days.”
“Will do. Talk to you in a couple of weeks.”
“So long.” Caleb hung up the receiver, then glanced out the kitchen window at the vast backyard and thickly wooded area behind the house. If he was a hunter and fisherman, the way Hank was, he could pass the time with a rifle or with a rod and reel. And if he was a hard-living SOB like Jake, he could hit every bar in town and ease some of his frustration in a few fistfights.
But baseball had been his only passion for so many years that he could barely remember ever caring about anything else. As a teenager, the only other thing that had interested him had been his 1980 Camaro—the car he had wrecked, the car Tallie had put back together years later.
Cars. Hmm. Maybe he needed to buy himself a fixerupper street rod and—Hell, how could he do any work on a car when his right hand was practically useless to him?
Sheila and Mike owned a garage, didn’t they? He could stop by and talk to them about helping him find something special—maybe another Camaro—and he could hire them to do most of the work. He could hang around the garage and watch, and occasionally do a few things himself.
Okay, Bishop, admit the truth. You need an excuse to see Sheila Vance again. An excuse she’ll buy without any question.
“All right, I admit it,” he said out loud to himself. “I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about Sheila. Maybe it’s because she’s so different from the women I’ve always dated. Maybe it’s because winning her over would be a real challenge.”
Think twice before you use a woman like her to ease your loneliness Caleb heard Hank’s warning once again.
Sheila was no kid. She was a thirty-year-old widow, not some naive innocent. A pang of guilt hit him square in the gut. At least not this time, an inner voice said. Okay. Okay. So Sheila had been a shy bookworm when he’d known her twelve years ago. And yes, he’d been pretty sure she was a virgin the night he made love to her. But it wasn’t as if he’d forced himself on her. She’d been more than willing for him to be her first lover.
She was in love with you, you bastard!
But that was then and this is now. Sheila was no starry-eyed, infatuated innocent anymore. If they had a brief affair now, they would meet on equal terms—two lonely people in need of companionship.
Who the hell was he kidding? Sheila Vance was no more in his league now than she’d been when they were eighteen. He had no right to even consider seducing her. But, God help him, he knew that given half a chance he’d take her and to hell with the consequences.
Mike Hanley placed the hot Reuben and fries on the desk in front of his sister. She glanced up from the computer and smiled at him.
“Thanks. I’m starving.” She shoved back her chair, stood and headed for the small rest room adjacent to her office.
“Don’t you think it’s time we talk about it?” Mike said. “You’ve put me off every time I’ve brought up the subject.”
Leaving the bathroom door open, Sheila washed and dried her hands. “What’s there to talk about? Caleb’s back in Crooked Oak for a brief visit and when he’s pulled his life back together, he’ll be gone again.”
“Well, it doesn’t