A Daring Vow (Vows) by Sherryl Woods Page A

wanted you to get there someday.”
    “Sure,” he said disbelievingly. “Once upon a time, maybe you felt that way, but I suspect I haven’t exactly been in your prayers in recent years.”
    “Maybe, maybe not, but I do know how much being elected to public office meant to you and your family. In fact,” she added dryly, “who would understand that better than I would? I paid a high enough price, so you could fulfill Beau’s ambition.”
    “It was my ambition, Zelda, not just my father’s, but you’re right. It sure as hell did ruin things between us. The blame for that’s as much mine as my father’s.”
    Once again filled with regret, Zelda sighed. “It didn’t have to ruin things for us, Taylor. I think that’s what made me angriest. You bought into your father’s assumption that I’d be a liability.” She shook off the memories. It was too late now to change what had happened back then. “Look, all I’m saying is that I know how disappointed you must have been, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here in Port William again. Losing a campaign wouldn’t send you running back home.”
    He regarded her intently for the space of a heartbeat and then he sighed deeply. “No,” he said quietly, “but losing my wife did.”
    Zelda felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “Losing your wife,” she echoed in dismay. “How? Surely she didn’t divorce you just because you lost an election.”
    “No. She died,” he said bluntly.
    The succinct reply explained a lot…and nothing at all. This time, though, Taylor’s dark, forbidding gaze kept Zelda from pressing for more answers. But it didn’t keep her from wondering.
    * * *
    After she’d left his office, Taylor felt all of the old pain and anguish wash over him. The wound, which had been healing nicely at long last, had been ripped open with just one sympathetic look from Zelda. He didn’t want her sympathy. He didn’t even want anyone to know how much pain he was in. He just wanted to be allowed to exist in peace. He wanted a life with no expectations and no bitter disappointments. No highs. No lows. With a woman like Zelda, there’d always be plenty of both. He shuddered at the thought.
    Clearly, though, Zelda didn’t intend to let him get off that easily. Just behind her sympathetic expression, he’d seen the familiar stubborn determination to probe until she knew everything. He’d remembered too late how persistent she could be and how perceptive. She’d guessed, when no one else ever had, how much he’d resented Beau’s control of his life, even when they’d shared the same goals.
    It was obvious, too, that Zelda blamed his father for everything that they’d lost. Some day he would have to correct that impression. In the end, it had been his mother who’d persuaded him to see reason, who’d gently pointed out how much more suitable a woman like Maribeth would be when he eventually ran for office. No one regretted the success of her persuasion more than his mother did today. He wondered if perhaps that was why she’d been so insistent that he help Ella Louise with her will, a gesture to make amends for a wrong done to Ella Louise’s daughter.
    Or maybe even a gesture meant to give him a second chance at happiness. What a laugh that was! He’d botched his life up royally and, bottom line, he had no one to blame but himself. He hadn’t been an impressionable kid when he’d cut Zelda out of his life. He’d made choices, bad ones, and he was going to spend the rest of his miserable life paying for them. Wasn’t that what penance was all about?
    Taylor sighed as he struggled to face the fact that it was only a matter of time before Zelda heard the whole story about his marriage. He knew he should be the one to tell her, but the words just hadn’t come. It had been easier to talk about the election. Losing a political race was one thing. Failure was another.
    He admitted to himself that pride had kept him quiet. That