1. That's What Friends Are For

SILHOUETTE BOOKS

Copyright © 1987 by Annette Broadrick

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S. A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

Printed in U.S.A.

ANNETTE BROADRICK

lives on the shores of Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri, where she spends her time doing what she loves most—reading and writing romance fiction. Since 1984, when her first book was published, Annette has been delighting her readers with her imaginative and innovative style. In addition to being nominated by Romantic Times magazine as one of the Best New Authors of that year, she has also won the Romantic Times Reviewer's Choice Award for Best in its Series for Heat of the Night, Mystery Lover and Irresistible, the Romantic Times WISH Award for her hero in Strange Enchantment and the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Award for Series Romance.

S
oft summer breeze gently caressed Penny's bikini-clad body. The muted sound of water lapping against the dock where she lay provided a rhythmic accompaniment to the periodic melodies of the birds who made their homes near the shores of Tawakoni Lake.

Penny Blackwell had always enjoyed summer and the opportunity to do nothing more strenuous than work on her tan. Being indolent made a pleasant contrast to the hectic schedule she followed the rest of the year.

She smiled to herself. In another week her usual summer routine would be changing permanently. The tempo of her life would doubtless be increased to the point where days like today would be very rare.

"That's a very secretive smile you're wearing these days, Runt," a deep male voice said from somewhere close by. "I find it quite provocative."

Penny's eyes flew open in shock, not only because she'd thought she was alone but also because that voice from her past should have been two thousand miles away.

"Brad!"

She was suddenly conscious of what a small portion of her body her bathing suit covered. Penny grabbed her matching cover-up robe, and with strangely uncoordinated movements for someone normally graceful, she pulled it on jerkily.

"What are you doing here?" After her first glimpse at the man towering above her, she refused to look up again.

Penny knew very well what Brad Crawford looked like. In that quick glance she'd seen that the only item of clothing he wore was a pair of faded cutoffs that should have been discarded years ago. They hung perilously low on his hips.

"Is that any greeting for a friend and neighbor whom you haven't seen in three years?" he asked. Without making an obvious effort, Brad leaned over and picked her up, placing her on her feet in front of him. Even with Penny standing. Brad continued to tower over her, the top of her head coming only to his collarbone. No one else had the ability to make her as aware of her lack of inches as Brad Crawford.

He slid his hand under her chin and lifted her face until he looked directly into her eyes. "You're looking even more beautiful than I remembered," he said, the warmth in his gaze adding heat to her already sun-kissed body, "and I didn't think I had forgotten anything about you." He paused, as though relearning every feature on her face. "I've really looked forward to seeing you again."

Penny's mind seemed to lose all discipline as thoughts she'd assumed were buried years ago flew around in her head like fragments of a jigsaw puzzle—the scraps indecipherable, creating a confusing melange. She searched desperately through the hodgepodge of disconnected thoughts for something casual to say in response.

She could hardly parrot his last comment. She certainly had not looked forward to ever seeing Brad Crawford again.

"You surprised me," she replied in a feeble attempt to sound natural. "When did you get home?"

He glanced back to the shoreline where the two homes that had sat side by side for three generations overlooked the lake. "Not too long ago, I've been here long enough to find something to wear that is more in keeping with this Missouri weather," he said with a grin that was as familiar to Penny as her own. "I visited with Mom for a few minutes, but she knew I was eager to come find you, so she sent me off."

Penny fought to ignore the implication in that remark. Pretending that she no longer wished to sunbathe, she gathered up her towel and tanning lotion and started toward her home. Brad kept pace with her.

"Why are you here?" she asked, dreading his answer.

He confirmed her fear by answering, "I received an invitation to your wedding. I decided to come home to meet the knight who stole my princess while I was busy slaying dragons."

Penny fully intended to discuss Brad's invitation with her mother at the very first opportunity. Brad Crawford had definitely not been on the guest list Penny had prepared.

Keeping her eyes on the path in front of her, she grumbled, ''I don't know why you always make everything sound so dramatic."

"Don't you, Penny? That surprises me. Seems to me drama comes easily for both of us."

That was true, but she resented being reminded. Why now, of all times? One week, that was all she'd needed. Then her life would be safe and secure, just as she planned. Not that Brad could possibly make any difference to those plans, but he did have an annoying habit of creating confusion and uncertainty in her life.

When she didn't answer him, Brad continued talking, sounding relaxed and companionable. "So tell me about him. The name was unfamiliar. Obviously he's not from Pay ton."

Penny felt a measure of safety as they drew closer to her home. She had no desire to carry on an intimate conversation with Brad. Once they reached the house she could depend on her mother to bridge any uncomfortable silences.

"Actually, Gregory moved to Payton from St. Louis a couple of years ago."

"What does he do?"

"He's an attorney."

"Ah," Brad responded as though some mystery had been solved for him. "An attorney," he repeated with satisfaction, "a nice, safe, unexciting profession."

She glanced at him with annoyance. "Not all of us crave excitement, you know."

"There was a time when you enjoyed it, as I recall."

"I was only a child. 'When I was a child, I used to speak as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a woman, I did away with childish things.'"

"My! Reverend Wilder would certainly be proud of you, remembering your Bible verses that way. Let's see, that's from the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians."

"Your early training still shows, too, you know, otherwise you wouldn't have recognized it," Penny replied in an even tone. She pushed open the screen door to the enclosed porch with relief. "Mom? You'll never guess who's here," she called in a bright voice.

"Oh, yes I would," Helen Blackwell said. Her face beamed a welcome as she stepped out of the kitchen carrying a tray filled with cookies and a frosted pitcher of lemonade. "Brad checked with me to find out where you were.'' She set the tray down and hugged him. "Oh, it's just so good to see you again after all this time. What a marvelous surprise to everyone, having you show up so unexpectedly."

Brad returned the hug with interest, his buoyant smile lighting up his face. "I'm glad to see that someone is happy to see me," he complained good-naturedly, glancing at Penny out of the corner of his eye. "For a moment there I thought Penny was going to shove me off the dock when she first saw me."

"Don't be silly. You just startled me, that's all." Forcing herself to sound casual, she said, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to run upstairs and change."

"Not on my account, I hope," Brad offered with an innocent grin. "I'm thoroughly enjoying the view."

Helen laughed. She would. Penny thought crossly. Her mother had always found Brad amusing. As far as her parents were concerned, Brad could do no wrong. He was the son they had never had.

A small voice inside her told her that, to be fair, she needed to remember that she had been the daughter Brad's parents had never had as well. Penny wasn't in the mood for fairness at the moment. "If you'll excuse me," she said pohtely and left.

Helen poured lemonade in two of the glasses and said, "Sit down. Brad. She probably won't be long. Why don't you tell me how things are going for you. I'm so eager to hear about New York and your li there. Everyone in Pay ton is so proud of you—the small-town boy who made good."

Brad continued to stare at the door where Penny had disappeared.

"She's changed," he said in a flat voice.

Helen sighed. "Yes, she has," she admitted, "and in my opinion the change hasn't been an improvement."

Brad glanced at her in surprise.

Helen hastened to explain. "She seems to have lost some inner spark of enthusiasm, that enjoyment of life that always used to make her sparkle."

'' I remember,'' Brad said with a smile.

"It could have been getting that teaching job as soon as she finished college. She wasn't all that much older than her high school students, which probably explains why she began to dress and act so much older than she really is."

"Does she like teaching?"

"Seems to. Of course, what she really enjoys is working with the drama club, directing their plays-she loves anything that has to do with acting."

"That isn't too surprising, since that's what she majored in at the university. She was one of the most talented students in our class. It's a shame she isn't using that talent now."

"I know. I suppose that's what bothers me about her. She seems to be settling for so much less than she's capable of.''

"Such as Gregory Duncan?"

"Oh, heavens, no! Gregory is a brilliant man. Absolutely brilliant. He made quite a name for himself in the St. Louis area, I understand. Payton was extremely fortunate that a man like Gregory chose to move here and open a practice." Helen offered Brad the plate of cookies, pleased when he took a couple. ''Of course, he's extremely busy. He still has a considerable caseload in St. Louis, so he's been dividing his time between here and there. Penny's hoping his schedule will let up some once they're married."

Brad took a bite of one of the cookies and moaned his pleasure. ''Sitting here eating your homemade oatmeal-raisin cookies certainly takes me back, Helen." After swallowing some lemonade, Brad returned to the subject of their conversation. "If Duncan's so well-known and established, he must be considerably older than Penny."

Helen nodded. "Yes, he is. He's thirty-nine, fourteen years older than she is."

''And she doesn't mind?"

"Doesn't seem to bother her in the least. Like I said, she acts so much older—seems so settled and all. You'd think they were much closer in age than they are." Helen reached over and took a cookie. "She seems to have her life all planned out now. Penny intends to continue teaching for a couple of years, then start a family. Gregory does a lot of entertaining. Just playing hostess for him will probably be a full-time job. She seems to be content with everything."

Brad gazed out through the screen that enclosed the large porch and murmured, "I wonder."

As soon as Penny returned downstairs, she could hear the animation in her mother's voice. Brad had that effect on people. He seemed to generate excitement wherever he went.

"Everyone in town watches Hope for Tomorrow,'' she heard Helen say, "wanting to see what outrageous things Drew Derek is going to do next. He's a real corker, isn't he?"

Brad laughed. "That he is."

"Of course I know you're nothing like him, but you sure make him out to be a real ladies' man."

Penny could hear the amusement in Brad's voice at her mother's careful phrasing when he replied, "Yes, he's certainly a real threat to the virtue of every woman he meets, isn't he?"

They laughed companionably. Penny decided it was time to join them and change the subject when she heard her mother say, "Well, I think you're just fantastic in the role and very believable. Why, if I didn't know the real you, I wouldn't let you anywhere near my daughter, that's for sure. Speaking of Penny, I taped your program on the video recorder every day during the school term so Penny could watch it when she got home. She—"

"Is there any lemonade left?" Penny asked, stepping out on the porch as though unaware she'd interrupted her mother. She could tell by the expression on his face that Brad had not been fooled.

"Of course there is," Helen answered. "You know I always keep plenty on hand in the summertime. It's our staple drink around here during these warm months."

"So you watch Hope for Tomorrow every day, do you?" Brad asked Penny, a half smile on his face.

Brad looked very much at home. His head rested on the back of the well-padded patio chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. He held his glass balanced on his lean, muscled stomach.

Penny stepped over his legs and sank down in the chair on his other side.

"When I have the time," she responded casually. "Which reminds me. How did you manage to get time off to come home? If you really are here for the wedding, that must mean you plan to stay at least a week."

"What do you mean, if I'm really here for the wedding? Don't you believe me?"

She shrugged. "I don't disbelieve you. I just find it unusual that you'd bother."

"Oh, I don't, Penny," Helen said. "Why, Brad is the closest thing to a brother you've ever had. It's only natural he'd want to be here."

"That's very true. So I asked the powers that be in our production for the time and eventually they decided that Drew really did need some R and R from all of his bedroom activities." He watched Penny's profile while he talked because she refused to look his way. Instead, she stared out at the lake. Of course, it was a very relaxing view, but she was studying it as if she'd never seen it before. Glancing at Helen, seated on his other side, he continued, "So they've put poor old Drew in a coma for a few days."

"Oh, really?" Helen said. ''What caused it?"

Brad shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? Too much sex, probably."

"Brad," Helen said, laughing. "That's awful."

"Sorry," he said in a teasing tone that said he wasn't sorry at all.

How many times over the years had Penny heard that exact inflection in his voice? Somehow it had always managed to get him off the hook. Perhaps because when he was in that mood he was practically irresistible.