Long, Tall Texans: Calhoun by Diana Palmer Page A

things became clear for him. Foremost was that Abby was jealous. Her eyes weren't any softer than Justin's. If she wasn't already in love with Calhoun, she was well on the way to it. Tyler felt all his chances slipping away, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.
    The evening wore on, and the tension rose. Calhoun seemed to enjoy dancing with Shelby. Abby stuck with Tyler. Justin sat and drank quietly by himself after he finished his business with the other gentleman, who left. The tall man began to look more coldly violent by the minute.
    Toward the end of the dance, Calhoun left Shelby long enough to saunter over to Abby, who was sipping ginger ale while Tyler spoke to someone he knew at a nearby table. Abby hadn't been watching Calhoun, because he was making her miserable. He didn't smile at her anymore. He hated her, she was sure of it. So when Calhoun appeared in front of her, Abby grew flustered and nervous and almost spilled her drink.
    Calhoun saw the nervous motion, and it gave him hope. "How about dancing one with me?" he asked quietly.
    She looked up, her eyes searching his face almost hungrily. "No, I'd better not," she said softly.
    He caught his breath at the wounded sound in her voice. "Abby, why not?" he asked.
    "It might hurt Shelby's feelings," she said, and turned away, searching the room desperately for Tyler. "I can't imagine where Tyler got to," she added huskily.
    Calhoun looked like a radio with the transistors removed. He blinked, doubting that he'd really heard what she'd just said. Shelby might be hurt? Surely she didn't think---It suddenly dawned on him that if Abby was crazy enough to imagine he was getting involved with Shelby, Justin might, too.
    He turned toward the table where Justin was sitting like a statue, and whistled under his breath. "Oh, my God," he breathed. "I've done it now."
    Abby didn't say another word. She watched Calhoun move through the crowd toward Justin and wondered absently if his life insurance was paid up. Justin looked murderous.
    There were two full ashtrays in front of Justin, and one half-empty whisky glass. The older man drank on occasion, but usually not when he was angry. If he did, he limited himself to one drink. The glass was what told Calhoun how angry his older brother was.
    Calhoun sat down across from him, leaning back to study the older man. "She was lonely," he told Justin.
    Justin drained his glass and rose, his eyes blacker than Calhoun had seen them in a long time. "Then I'll see what I can do about it."
    While Calhoun was catching his breath, Justin walked to Shelby's table. He didn't say a word. He looked at the woman until her face colored, then simply held out his hand. She put hers into it. He pulled her onto the dance floor, and they melted into each other to a slow, dreamy tune.
    Abby sighed as she watched them. They were stiff, as if there were more than just space between them, but the look on Shelby's face was hauntingly beautiful. His expression was less easily read, hard and rigid. But Abby would have bet that he was as close to heaven as he'd been in six years.
    "How about that for a surprise?" Tyler murmured over her head, watching. "My God, look at them. They're like two halves of a whole."
    "Why did they ever split up?" she asked him.
    "I don't know," he said with a sigh. "I think my father was mixed up in it somehow, and one of his friends.
    But Shelby never talks about it. All I know is that she gave him back his ring and he's been bitter ever since."
    As the music ended, the couple stopped dancing. Justin released Shelby very slowly and abruptly turned and walked out of the dance hall. After a minute, Shelby went back and sat down. Calhoun returned to the table.
    Abby, turning to watch Calhoun bend toward Shelby, felt even sicker when she saw Shelby get up and leave the building, holding Calhoun's arm.

    She toughed it out for several more dances, but when Calhoun didn't come back, she finally realized that he'd more than