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LENGTH: Full Novel
SENSUALITY: Sensual

Cover art (c) Jenny Dixon
ISBN 1-58608-434-8
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Grant Madison, military man and son of the town's most revered citizen is home again after many years of serving in the army in Europe and Korea. So many challenges await him: The care and rearing of his ten-year-old niece, learning a new trade; adjusting once more to a way of life that seems, after all this time, alien and outmoded. But his biggest challenge is facing and working with the unorthodox and fiery tempered Tyler Carson, the woman he had loved and then left six years before.

Rating: Contains graphic and explicit sexual content and language.

"Four Stars! Barri Bryan has written a very powerful and realistic story with A Long Shadow. Honesty, integrity and trust are very strong, effectively used themes throughout the story. This is one book that leaves you feeling as if you have experienced the same things the characters have." eCataRomance

"Barri Bryan’s A LONG SHADOW will take you on a quick, energetic journey that will leave you slightly breathless, as if it all happened too fast. Enjoy the history. Let it remind you of how much we have grown as a society. Cheer on Grant and Tyler as they fumble their way towards their forever together." Joyce Menyasz, Romance Reviews Today

"The book is fast paced and kept me turning the pages until the very end. I would gladly read another story by this author." The Romance Studio

A LONG SHADOW

By

Barri Bryan

© copyright April 2004, Billie and Herb Houston
Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright April 2004
New Concepts Publishing
5202 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

Prologue

Tyler Carson put her chin in her hands and studied the handsome countenance of the man who sat across the table from her. "I have to go home immediately after dinner."

Paul Carpenter looked up in surprise. "Oh?"

Tyler apologized, although she couldn’t imagine why. "I’m sorry."

"That makes two of us. I was looking forward to holding you in my arms tonight." Paul pushed his plate back. "Is Tom ill?"

"My father is fine. It’s something else. We have to talk."

A troubled glance sharpened his features. "We will, later."

Tyler folded her napkin and laid it beside her plate. "No. It has to be now."

Smiling, Paul snapped his fingers. "I know what it is. You think I forgot." He took an oblong jeweler’s box from his inside coat pocket. "I didn’t. I was going to wait until we were upstairs to give you this, but since you can’t stay...." He slid the box across the table. "Happy thirtieth birthday and I must say you don’t look a day over nineteen."

That was spreading it on a little thick, even for Paul. Tyler ran her fingers along the sides of the box. "You shouldn’t have." She had half expected that this time he’d give her an engagement ring. The size and shape of the package told her that once again he’d failed to live up to her expectations. She opened the box. An exquisite diamond bracelet nestled in a bed of soft white velvet. Her breath caught in her throat. "It’s lovely."

"Like you it’s fire and ice and beauty all rolled into one original creation." Passion darkened his eyes to ebony. "You’re especially beautiful tonight, Birthday Girl." Leaning across the table he whispered, "I want you."

That old familiar tingle of desire fluttered in the pit of Tyler’s stomach. She subdued it. "I can’t accept this." Closing the lid, she slid the box back across the table.

Beams from the restaurant’s overhead chandelier danced across Paul’s face and highlighted the few strands of silver that laced through his jet-black hair. "And why not?"

"It’s too expensive." This little bauble must have cost a mint.

Paul’s winged brows met across his patrician nose. "That’s nonsense. After all, you and I are engaged to be married."

The blonde pianist in a far corner was playing a slow rendition of "That Old Black Magic." The tinkling sounds scraped across Tyler’s nerve ends like fingernails over glass. "Not formally."

"But we will be someday."

"Will we? I’m not so sure."

Paul was immediately contrite. "I know waiting is difficult. But things will be different eventually. Right now you have your father and a business to consider and I’m committed to caring for mother and to helping Cynthia bring up Jeffery. Don’t you see--" His sentence snapped like a twig in the wind. Then he drew a deep breath. "We’ve been over this so many times before."

The shadow of a smile touched Tyler’s lips. "Haven’t we just?" And the results were always the same. Paul was committed to his mother, his sister and his nephew. They needed him. He was all they had. He couldn’t let them down. His mother had a weak heart. His sister was a single parent. The truth was his mother was a clinging vine who had enjoyed ill health for years and his sister was a divorcee who slept around. Tyler felt a twinge of contrition. Who was she to be so judgmental?

Paul flinched. "And now you also have the responsibility of Emmett Madison." He frowned. "Where are his children? Why don’t they come home and see after their father?"

He knew why, but she told him anyway. "Grant is out of the country and Monica’s in prison."

"Well, that explains Monica’s absence, but Grant could come home."

Tyler had thought so too, several times. Why should it make her angry to hear Paul voice the same opinion? "Emmett has been Dad’s business partner for twenty-five years. He’s like family. Dad and I don’t mind seeing after him."

Paul pursed his lips. "I mind and you’re the one who’s doing all the extra work. What with putting in six days a week at the cabinet shop, keeping house for Tom and dashing next door to see after Emmett when you have a spare minute, you’re wearing yourself to a frazzle."

Much of what he said was true even though Tyler was reluctant to admit it. "I’m managing quite well, thank you."

Paul asked, "Why don’t you hire someone to help you?"

The answer to that question was simple enough. There was no money to hire extra help. That was not something she wanted to discuss with Paul. "I don’t mind a little extra housework."

"I don’t mean around the house. I mean in the shop. You could still do the office work but tramping around construction sights taking measurements for cabinets, then coming back later to oversee installations is no job for a woman."

Tyler could have told him that she was more able to handle the task than most men she knew. Instead she said, "I told you I don’t mind." The truth was she rather liked the job. It was challenging, creative, and something she knew she did well.

Paul was not appeased. "Well, I do."

Tyler pushed down a surge of annoyance. "It’s not your concern."

Reaching across the table, he laid his hand over hers. His fingers were strong and caressing. "Anything that concerns you concerns me."

She shook her head. "It won’t, not after tonight." Remorse ached through her like an old wound. "I’m not going to see you again, Paul."

His hand tightened on hers. "What are you saying?"

She drew a deep breath. "I’m saying that I’m breaking our informal engagement."The pain in his eyes cut through her like a knife. "You don’t mean that."

This was proving to be even more difficult than she had thought. "Yes. I do." She pulled her hand from his grasp. "I hope we can still be friends."

The muscles in his face tightened as pain transmuted to anger. "Is this a ploy to force me into agreeing to announce our engagement?"

Did he really think she would stoop to such subterfuge? "No." Fatigue settled over her like a net. "It’s an attempt to break our informal engagement as gently as possible."

Obviously he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. "It won’t work, you know. I won’t be forced or coerced." His voice dropped to a hiss. "You should know better."

Tyler pushed back her chair and stood. "When was I ever wise?" Picking up her handbag, she turned to go. "Good bye, Paul." She exited the restaurant with her shoulders back and her head held high.

As she paused on the other side of the double doors her shoulders sagged and her head dropped. A sudden brisk breeze blew across her flushed cheeks. Goose bumps gamboled over her bare arms as she hurried down the cobblestone walk toward her little 50 model Nash Rambler.

Once there she paused and looked back as a rush of ambivalent emotions charged through her. What had she done? Drawing a long breath, she fumbled in her handbag for her keys, and then paused again. "Maybe I should go back and apologize." She shook her head. "No. I deserve more than empty rhetoric and meaningless promises." With renewed resolve she unlocked the door and climbed into her car, folded her arms across the steering wheel and stared through the windshield at the star-studded sky. This was her thirtieth birthday. She wasn’t getting any younger and she’d just broken her ‘informal’ engagement to the man who had been her lover for almost two years. "It’s better this way," she told herself. Her words brought little assurance and no comfort at all. She inserted the key into the ignition, turned the switch and shifted into reverse. "Happy birthday, Tyler." Without looking back, she pulled from the parking lot and onto the narrow road, turned on her car lights and pushed down hard on the accelerator. The car sped off into the night.

Chapter One

Tyler laid her magazine aside as her father came through the door of the waiting room. "How’s Emmett?"

Tom Carson wiped a tear from his eye. "He’s gone. He looked at me and said, ‘Take care of things, Tom,’ then closed his eyes just like he was going to sleep."

Tears rose in Tyler’s throat. "At least now he’s not suffering."

"That‘s what Doctor Jones said." Tom ran his fingers through his graying hair. "He also said I should try again to contact Grant."

Tyler patted the couch cushion beside her. "Come and sit down." Her father had never been a large man. Tonight he seemed especially small and frail and vulnerable. "You look like you’re about to drop."

Tom shuffled across the room and dropped down beside his daughter. "Emmett’s dead. I still can’t believe it."

For twenty-five years Emmett Madison had been her father’s good friend and staunch business partner--now Emmett was gone. Tyler wanted to offer words of comfort for that great loss. She could find none. Reaching across the space that separated them, she took Tom’s hand in hers. "Do you know how to reach Grant?"

"I already have. I used the telephone in the hall."

"You called Germany on the pay phone in the hall?" Their telephone bill would look like the national debt. "Dad!"

"Grant’s not in Germany."

That came as a surprise. "Then where is he?"

"He’s in East Orange, New Jersey." Tom eased his hand from her grasp and rubbed his palms together. "He called me yesterday."

"And you didn’t tell me?"

Sighing, Tom shrugged. "It must have slipped my mind."

It hadn’t. Tyler knew as much. "What’s Grant doing in New Jersey when he’s stationed in Germany and his father is dying in Texas?"

Tom corrected her. "His father is dead in Texas." Laying his head on the back of the couch he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "Grant’s in New Jersey because Monica’s ex in-laws were in a car accident. They sent for him."

Tyler couldn’t imagine Monica’s ex in-laws even speaking to the brother of the woman who had been convicted of murdering their only child. "The Morellis sent for Grant?"

Tom seemed reluctant to dwell on the subject. "No. The authorities did. It has something to do with Amy."

Tyler was even more puzzled. "Monica’s little girl?"

Tom’s rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "Amy’s not so little anymore. She must be going on ten years old."

Tyler did some swift mental calculating. "She was ten last April." Then she asked "What is it that you aren’t telling me?"

A tired smile creased Tom’s aging face. "I never could fool you." Gripping the arm of the couch, he pushed himself to his feet. "Let’s go home. We can talk about it there." He walked toward the door.

Tyler followed him. "Talk about what?"

"About Grant and Amy staying with us for a few days." Tom scooted through the door and hurried down the long corridor.

Tyler rushed to catch up to him. "Amy’s with Grant?" This was a strange turn of events. For years the Morellis had refused to let Emmett even talk to Amy on the telephone. Now suddenly they were giving her over to Grant’s care? That made no sense at all. She caught her father’s arm. "What happened?"

As they made their way toward the front door Tom said, "The Morellis were both killed in that automobile accident. Since Grant is her closest living relative Amy is his responsibility now."

Tyler thought that Fate must have a perverted sense of humor. The one thing that Grant Madison had run from most of his life was responsibility.

Tom opened the door and waited for Tyler to step outside. "They will be here tomorrow afternoon." Then turning, he hurried toward the parking lot.

Tyler followed, almost stepping on his heels. "We have no room for two guests, not even for one night." She caught up to her father and grabbed his arm pulling him to a sudden stop. "They’ll have to find some other place to stay."

Very carefully, Tom dislodged Tyler’s fingers. "Ty, darlin’ I have asked Grant and Amy to stay with us for a few days. And Grant has accepted my invitation."

The tone of her father’s voice said he wasn’t going to change his mind. He was upset, weary, and grief stricken. She shouldn’t agitate him further; still Tyler had to ask, "Why are you doing this?"

"It’s for Emmett and Sadie."

Despite her resolve to say no more, Tyler found herself protesting, "Sadie and Emmett are both dead."

Tom huffed, "So?"

"So they’re both past appreciating anything you do now for their son."

One of Tom’s shaggy eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "How do you know that? Do you have proof?"

Tyler snapped, "Dad, you’re not being logical."

Taking Tyler’s arm, Tom guided her toward his battered old Ford pickup. "Get in and your illogical father will drive you home."

They had turned onto Main Street and were driving past the Rialto Theater before Tom spoke again. "Just because I asked Grant to stay with us for a few days doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him."

Tyler stared out the car window at the theater marquee. It Announced: Coming Soon - On the Waterfront. She pointed. "I’d like to see that movie."

Tom shot her a narrow sidelong glance before shifting his eyes back to the street. "So you refuse to talk about it, or should I say you refuse to talk about him?"

Tyler knew her father. He didn’t intend to shut up until they had cleared the air. "You have nothing to forgive Grant for, so can we drop the subject?"

"No, we can’t and yes I do. He hurt you. That’s enough for me to hold a grudge for a life time."

If her father only knew. Grant Madison had done more than hurt her. He had broken her foolish little-girl heart. "That’s all in the past now."

"But you still don’t want him around."

"And knowing that you still asked him to stay with us?"

"It’s not for Grant. It’s for Emmett and Sadie."

Tyler protested, "But Daddy...."

Tom made a right turn onto Maple Avenue. "Please listen and try to understand."

Tyler consented but most ungraciously. "Go ahead, have your say."

Tom shot her a brief sardonic smile. "Thank you." He shifted his eyes back to the street. "Back in 1924 when I married your mother I was a prosperous young business executive well on my way to becoming a wealthy man." His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"What does that have to do with Grant staying in our home?"

"A lot. You said you’d listen. Remember?"

Oh, yes, she remembered. She remembered too much. That was the problem. "I won’t interrupt again."

"I’m going to hold you to that." Tom slowed as he drove through an intersection. "Where was I? Oh, yeah. Then five years later the depression came along and wiped me out completely. Six months after that your mother left me. I hit rock bottom."

Most of the time, even when Tyler asked, Tom refused to talk about the past or her mother. To hear him do so now with such intensity and emotion disturbed her deeply. "It must have been terrible for you."

Tom shifted into second and slowed for a traffic light. "It was." He stopped the pickup and shifted into low. "I had no one to turn to, no close family, no friends who could help. Of course Cousin Hattie said she’d be glad for us to stay with her over in St. Agnes. But I knew she was in no position to help me what with her husband out of work and her having to a sick mother and five little ones of her own."

Hattie Franklin, a distant second cousin twice removed was Tom’s only living relative. "You must have felt so alone."

"How could I be alone? I had you." The light changed to green. Tom eased his foot off the clutch and the pickup moved slowly forward. "And I don’t know what would have happened to the two of us if Emmett and Sadie hadn’t taken us in. They let us move into in the little shed behind their house. Sadie said she’d be glad to look after you during the day while I worked. The only problem was that in those days there were no jobs for smart young business executives."

Tyler’s memories of those bygone years were blurred and vague. For the first time she realized what a struggle her father must have had. "So what did you do?"

"Again Emmett came to my rescue. He was a cabinetmaker and a first-class carpenter. There weren’t many jobs for carpenters and cabinetmakers then either but Emmett got the ones there were because he was so good at what he did. He hired me to help him and over the next few years he taught me how to be a damn good carpenter and fair cabinet maker, not as good as he was, mind you, but good."

"I never knew things were so difficult for you."

"It wasn’t all bad. There were good times too. I guess my happiest moment was when the house next door to Emmett and Sadie was offered for sale and I was able to buy it. But that was only because Emmett co-signed my note at the bank. That’s the house you live in now, Ty."

Tyler opened her mouth to speak "Daddy...."

Tom held up one calloused hand. "Just be quiet and let me finish. After you and I moved into the house next door, Emmett decided to turn that old shed into a cabinet shop. He asked me to be his partner. I told him he didn’t have to do that. I’d be proud and happy just to work for him. He said he needed me to handle the business end of things. Emmett never considered himself much of a businessman but he was. He taught me things about business that I’d never known before."

Tyler knew her father to be a clever and astute businessman. She doubted he had learned those skills from Emmett Madison who had possessed neither of those qualities. "What could Emmett possibly teach you about business?"

Tom chuckled. "Emmett didn’t know a credit from a debit but he knew about being honest with every man and about giving a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay. Maybe I should say he taught me about life and now Emmett’s dead and his only son is coming home to bury him. I know that son hurt you once. And I’m not excusing what he did, but you’ve got to understand. I can’t turn Grant out because he’s Sadie and Emmett’s son and Sadie and Emmett were my friends."

In the light of what he father had told her, Tyler realized she was being petty and ungrateful. She batted her eyes trying to see through her tears. "I understand, Daddy. It’s okay."

Tom turned down Pulliam Street. "Grant will have to make do with sleeping on the couch. We can put the roll away bed in your room. Amy can sleep there."

Tyler didn’t welcome the thought of sharing her bedroom with a ten-year-old child, but she held her tongue and her temper.

Tom pulled into the driveway and switched off the ignition then turned to face Tyler. "They won’t be here long."

Tyler wanted to ask how long. She didn’t. "I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise."

"Thank you, Daughter." Tom opened the pickup door. "I knew you wouldn’t let me down."

The subdued duo began their evening meal as they listened to a newscast on the local radio station. The commentator talked of President Eisenhower’s recent heart attack and its adverse affect on the stock market and then went on to report how a federal court had stopped segregationists in Hoxi, Arkansas from barring the admission of Blacks to their public schools. A commercial announcing that Brother John J. Jenkins and his Miracle Healing Revival would be in Summerville for two more glorious weeks interrupted the news broadcast. "The Reverend holds his miraculous meetings under the largest revival tent in the world. Come join him and be a part of...."

Tom reached behind him and turned the off switch. "The news is bad enough without having to listen to an advertisement that’s even worse."

They completed their meal in silence. Later, when Tom offered to do the dishes, Tyler protested. "You’re tired. Go on to bed."

Tom pushed back his chair and stood. "I couldn’t sleep." He began to stack dishes. "It’s a good half hour before I can see what Matt and Miss Kitty are up to this week. I need something to keep my mind occupied until then."

"If you’re sure." Tyler stood. "I think I’ll take a shower."

She returned to the kitchen some thirty minutes later wearing an old chenille robe and with her hair wrapped in a towel. Tom was hanging up the dishtowel. "I’m all done and just in time. Now I’m going to watch Gunsmoke."

Tyler followed her father into the cozy living room. "I think I’ll go to my room and read for awhile." She picked up the book that lay on the table near the couch.

Tom stooped to turn on the TV before standing to smile at her. "What are you reading now?"

Tyler grimaced. "Lolita?"

Tom’s eyebrows skyrocketed upward. "Lolita? I hear tell that one’s a little racy."

Tyler’s grimace converted to a smile. "In some circles it would be considered so."

"But you don’t think it is?"

He was teasing her but she didn’t mind. She knew that secretly he was proud of her voracious appetite for reading. "Well--Maybe a little." She turned to go.

As Tom eased into his platform rocker he called over the din of a commercial, "Paul called while you were in the shower. He says you should call him back."

Tyler stammered in amazement, "Paul Carpenter?"

"He didn’t say Paul who. How many Pauls do you know?"

Ambivalent emotions surged through Tyler. Her first impulse was to pick up the telephone and dial Paul’s number. Such a foolish move would put her right back in that same old heartache. She moved toward her room. "Good night, Daddy."

A dead click told her Tom had turned off the TV. She stopped in her tracks as he called, "Tyler?"

"What?" How belligerent she sounded.

"Do you have a minute?"

Tyler clutched her book to her chest. "You’re going to miss Gunsmoke."

"This is more important."

Tyler turned. "If this about Paul and me there’s nothing to talk about."

Tom’s eyes clouded with concern. "You’re not seeing him anymore. I thought maybe he broke it off and I didn’t want to pry."

"What makes you think he didn’t?"

"When he called a while ago, I asked him and he said no."

Tyler felt the flare of sudden anger. "Daddy, you had no right to do that." She came back into the living room and sat on the edge of the couch. "What must Paul think?" She laid her book on the table.

Tom agreed. "You’re right. I didn’t." Then he asked, "Do you care what Paul thinks?"

She did although she couldn’t think of one good reason why she should. "I’m not going to see Paul again."

Tom’s aging face softened with affection. "Tyler, if I’m prying it’s because I love you more than anything in this world. I don’t want you to do something now that you’ll be sorry for later."

"And you think I may be sorry later that I broke off with Paul?"

"Truth?" Tom shook his head. "I don’t know." On the end of a long breath, he asked, "Are you still in love with him?"

No one could accuse Tom Carson of being subtle. Tyler thought for a long moment before saying, "I’m not sure now that I ever loved him."

"But you are sure that you don’t want to see him again?"

Once again Tyler thought long and hard before answering. "Yes, Daddy, I’m very sure."

Tom’s face creased into a broad smile. "I’m glad. He’s not good enough for you." He leaned toward the TV. "I hope I didn’t miss too much of what Matt Dillon’s doing this week."

Tyler picked up her book and stood. "Good night, Daddy."

Tom was already totally engrossed in the drama that was unfolding on his 12 inch TV screen. He didn’t answer.

Tyler went into her room, put her book on the nightstand and turned down her covers. She lay on the bed, put her hands beneath her head and stared at the ceiling. Paul had called after all this time. She was surprised and slightly elated. Almost a month of silence had convinced her that she would never hear from him again. Paul was such a proud and private person. He was probably annoyed by Tom’s prying question. Still, he had answered truthfully.

She had also been honest with father. Maybe it was time she started being honest with herself too. She didn’t love Paul. She never had--not really--but she did miss him. She missed his quick smile and his ready wit. She missed the excitement of slipping away to meet him in some out-of-the-way place each Saturday night. She missed the gifts he brought her and the little love notes he sent. She missed his telephone calls at odd moments during the day, but what she missed most was making love with a man who was an experienced and tender sexual partner.

The sudden irony of the situation hit her with impacted force. How could she consider what she’d done with Paul making love if she didn’t love him? She had always thought of sex as being synonymous with love, at least as far as she was concerned. To discover differently was a shock to her self-esteem and a blow to her pride. Maybe she wasn’t the decent moralistic person she always thought herself to be.

She’d had an affair and for purely physical reasons. Then she had deluded herself into believing she was in love again. Tyler opened her book and began to read of Humbert Humbert’s passionate fixation. After scanning a few pages, she closed the book and switched off the light. Maybe art did imitate life.