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mouth, willing hands, and by God, he’d enjoyed her.
    He hadn’t loved her, nor had he claimed to. Tucker considered promises of love a cheap tool for persuading a woman into bed. He’d shown her a good time, in bed and out. He wasn’t a man to stop the courtship process once a woman had spread her legs.
    But the minute she’d started hinting about marriage, he’d taken a long step back. First he’d given her a cooling-off period, taking her out maybe twice in a two-week period and cutting off sex completely. He’d told her flat out that he had no intention of getting married. But he’d seen by the smug look in her eye she hadn’t believed him. So he’d broken it off. She’d been tearful but civilized. Tucker saw now that she’d believed she’d be able to reel him back.
    Tucker also had no doubt now that she’d heard he’d been seen with someone else.
    All of that mattered. And none of it mattered. If Edda Lou was pregnant, he was pretty sure that despiteprecautions—he was the one who’d made her so. Now he had to figure out what to do about it.
    He was surprised Austin Hatinger hadn’t already come looking for him with his shotgun loaded. Austin wasn’t the most understanding of men, and he’d never been fond of the Longstreets. The fact was, he hated them, and had ever since Madeline LaRue had chosen Beau Longstreet, ending forever Austin’s blind dream of marrying her himself.
    Since then Austin had turned into one mean, hard-bitten son of a bitch. It was common knowledge that he slapped his wife around when the mood was on him. He used the same thumping discipline with each of his five children—the oldest of which, A.J., was now serving time in Jackson for grand theft auto.
    Austin had spent a few nights behind bars himself. Assault, assault and battery, disorderly conduct—usually carried out while spouting scripture or calling on the Lord. Tucker figured it was only a matter of time before Austin came after him with that shotgun or those ham-sized fists.
    He’d just have to deal with it.
    Just as he’d have to deal with his responsibility to Edda Lou. Responsibility was what it was, and he’d be damned if he’d marry responsibility. She might have been skilled in bed, but she couldn’t keep up her end of a conversation with a hydraulic jack. And, he’d discovered, she was as small-brained and cunning as a she-fox. That was one thing he wasn’t about to face over breakfast every morning for the rest of his life.
    He’d do what he could, and what was right. There was money, and there was his time. That much he could give. And maybe, once the worst of the anger wore off, he’d feel affection for the child, if not for the mother.
    He hoped there’d be affection rather than this sick feeling in his gut.
    Tucker scrubbed his hands over his face and wished Edda Lou would just disappear. That she would pay for that ugly scene in the diner where she’d made him look worse than he was. If he could just think of a way, he’d …
    He heard a rustle in the leaves and swung toward it. If Edda Lou had followed him, she was going to find him not only ready to fight, but eager.
    When Caroline stepped into the clearing, she muffled a scream. There, in the shady spot where she’d once fished with her grandfather, was a man, golden eyes hard as agate, fists clenched, mouth pulled back dangerously in something between a snarl and a sneer.
    She looked around desperately for a weapon, then realized she’d have to depend on herself.
    “What are you doing here?”
    Tucker shucked off the tough shell as quickly as he might have peeled off his shirt.
    “Just watching the water.” He flashed her a quick, self-deprecating smile that was supposed to signal he was harmless. “I didn’t expect to run across anyone.”
    The taut and ready stance had relaxed into idleness. But Caroline was not convinced he was harmless. His voice was smooth, with that lazy drawl that could so easily be mocking. Though his eyes