Tall, Dark & Western Page 10

  She didn’t say anything else, just picked up the handset. He could see her from his seat in the recliner as she punched in a number and waited for it to ring. He reached for the remote and turned the television down a few increments.

  “Hello, Millicent. This is Juliette.” He wondered if Juliette realized she’d grimaced when this Millicent person picked up on her end. Hmm, not on Juliette’s list of favorite people, apparently. So why would she call her?

  Whoever Millicent was, she must have had plenty to say. Juliette listened, nodding or shaking her head, for several long minutes before she opened her mouth. “I’m not coming back to California, Millicent. This week I married a man who lives in South Dakota.”

  She held the phone away from her ear at the response, then spoke again. “He’s a widowed rancher with a young daughter, and he’s very well able to support Bobby and me. Don’t worry, I’ll still bring Bobby to visit and of course, when he’s older, he can come and stay with you for vacations.”

  Juliette was frowning now. “I’m sorry, that’s not possible. We don’t have room here for visitors.”

  A blatant lie, if he’d ever heard one. He knew she had the kid sleeping in the room that had been Deck’s, but there was a perfectly good king-size bed in there.

  “Perhaps in a month or two,” she was saying. “I want to get settled into my new home before I go running off.” She listened again. “No! It doesn’t matter what you do. This marriage is legal, and this is my family and Bobby’s now. I would never exclude you from his life, but we’re not coming back to live with you. Our life is here now.”

  He didn’t realize he was on his feet until she hung up the telephone and he stood in front of her. “What the hell was that all about?”

  Juliette looked totally drained.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and began to gently massage. The answers to the questions that had rolled around in his head were right here in front of him, he was sure of it.

  “That was my mother-in-law,” she said, apparently forgetting that she’d been mad at him before the phone rang. “My first mother-in-law. Bobby’s grandmother. She’s…not very happy with me.”

  “Did she threaten you?” His voice was hard. Nobody was going to intimidate his wife.

  “She didn’t really mean it as a threat,” Juliette said. ‘Well, maybe she did, but only because she’s so upset. My husband and I lived with her. After Rob died, she took over, made all the decisions. I was pregnant and alone and she seemed so kind. And she is, deep down. We both missed Rob and we shared that. Then Bobby was born. She was thrilled.” Juliette sighed, and he rubbed at the taut cords in her neck. “Millicent—that’s her name—isn’t shy about making her opinions known. And she had an opinion on everything I did with my son. It created a strain between us. I felt that she wanted to replace Rob with Bobby, and I wasn’t going to let that happen. She nearly smothered Rob. In fact, he married me without telling her, or she’d probably have objected to that.”

  “Sounds like a control freak,” he commented.

  “Yes, but I pity her,” Juliette said. “Her husband left her when Rob was in elementary school. Then Rob died when he was only twenty-eight of a previously undiagnosed heart condition. She was devastated. I can’t blame her for wanting to keep Bobby close.”

  “So that’s why you were so eager to marry me. I’d wondered.” He didn’t stop massaging her neck, but Juliette slid off the stool on which she’d been sitting and walked around to the other side of the counter, moving away from his touch.

  “She has a great deal of money,” she said defensively. “She got me fired from one job, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do anything she could to force me to move back home.”

  Good God. It sounded so melodramatic, but Juliette certainly believed it. “What else did she do?”

  “Nothing. But she implied in one telephone conversation that she would have me declared an unfit mother if I didn’t come back. I think she might have tried it, too.” She looked at him, and her eyes were defeated. “That’s when I saw your ad. I couldn’t take the chance that you wouldn’t want to marry me if I told you about Bobby.”

  So that was it. That was the piece of the puzzle he hadn’t understood until now.

  “We need to talk,” he said. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

  She stared at him for a moment, one hand coming up to her throat in a curiously defensive gesture. Then she nodded and went back into the kitchen. When she came back, she had the baby.

  “I’ll let the dog out,” he said, turning away fast.

  Six

  Her hands were trembling as she pulled back the covers and got into bed. Marty slid in on the other side, snapping off the lamp on the bedside table before drawing the covers over them and lying back.

  For a long moment there was silence in the bedroom. It wasn’t a comfortable one. She half expected him to reach for her, to pull her beneath him and make her forget the reasons she felt like crying.

  But he didn’t.

  After what seemed like a long, long time, Marty cleared his throat. “I wish it could be different,” he said. “I wish I could love your son. But all I can see…when he cries, the memories—” in the dark she could hear his voice break “—I just can’t take it.”

  “Sh-h-h.” She reacted instinctively, shocked by the depths of despair she heard. She reached for his hand beneath the covers and stroked it gently, trying not to cry out when he clasped her smaller palm in a death grip that hurt. “It’s all right.” She took a deep breath, rolling onto her side and resting her free hand on his broad chest, over his heart. “Marty, I don’t want to cause you pain. Please believe that. If I’d known, I’d never have married—”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” he said.

  They both were silent again, contemplating thoughts neither wished to voice.

  “I’ll have to leave,” she said finally. “There’s no other way.” The words fell between them, hushed and deadly, and her heart broke at the thought of going away, of never seeing Marty again, never stroking his tousled curls or knowing the incredible splendor of his lovemaking.

  “No.” In contrast his voice was loud. Harsh. “I want you to stay. Cheyenne needs you now.” But she noticed he didn’t say he needed her, or that he loved her.

  She hesitated.

  “You can keep him away from me,” Marty said. “As long as I don’t have to see him, or hear him…”

  She knew it was impossible, ridiculous. But she didn’t say so. Now, while Bobby was an infant, the idea might work. But he was going to grow rapidly, stay awake longer, talk, crawl, walk. Did Marty know what he was saying?

  He must. He’d been around during Cheyenne’s infancy. He knew how toddlers and preschoolers were. There would be no hiding a growing child. And what would happen when they had more children?

  Maybe by then the grief and pain that seemed to be eating at Marty from the inside out would be dulled, blunted. Maybe by then he would love her the way she loved him.

  Maybe time was the answer. Maybe if she simply accepted what he could give her for now and waited for time to heal the wounds that scarred his heart, maybe one day he’d be able to be a father to all the children they had—his, hers and theirs.

  “Please,” he said, and she realized she’d let the silence run on unanswered. “Please don’t leave me, angel.” He moved then, pulling her into his arms and cuddling her against his big body. “I’ve just found you, and I don’t want to lose what we have.”

  The words melted away her reservations. They weren’t words of love, but they were close enough to ensnare her, close enough to bring the love she felt for him surging to the surface, sweeping away the doubts and fear that plagued her.

  “I won’t leave you,” she whispered. She stretched up her head so that she could brush a kiss against his jaw, and he rolled, pushing her to her back and settling himself between her thighs. She made a humming sound of pleasure as his hard flesh securely pushed into the cradle wh
ere her legs met, and he braced himself on his arms above her.

  “I want to make love to my wife,” he said in a deep, rough voice.

  The next few weeks were busy. She did her best to switch Bobby’s schedule around so that he was sleeping much of the limited time Marty was in the house, and she was aware that Marty kept a rigid schedule as well. Probably far more so than normal.

  Still, it seemed to work, and she took heart. Time will heal, she repeated to herself over and over.

  It snowed heavily several times, and the roads were closed, keeping her housebound, but she talked to both Silver and Lyn on the telephone, and she barely minded the enforced solitude. She began teaching Cheyenne to print her name and then the alphabet. During nap times she scoured the Internet for early-childhood education and child-rearing information, and she ordered several educational books through an on-line service. Marty teased her when they arrived, but she noticed he was reading them, too, in the evenings. Cheyenne threw fits from time to time, and Juliette began to take her cues from Marty, sending the little girl to her room until she calmed. Cheyenne’s histrionics fascinated Bobby. His little eyes went wide, and his mouth was a slack O of permanent surprise that made Juliette laugh.

  She got more and more comfortable in the house, rearranging furniture, drawers and cupboards and making lists of changes she wanted to make, then discussing them with Marty. He generally had little objection, and when the weather warmed up so that she could open up the house, she planned to paint the cabinets in the kitchen and utility room.

  She took the children over to visit Silver one day in late January when the weather broke. Lyn came over, as well, and under her more knowledgeable eye, the women pored over seed and plant catalogs in anticipation of spring. Silver was due anytime, and Deck had forbidden her to set foot outside the door for fear she’d slip on the icy, frozen ground.

  “So how are things?” Lyn’s green eyes were concerned as she eyed Juliette over a cup of herbal tea.

  Juliette hesitated. “It depends on what time it is when you ask me that.” She looked at both of her new friends, so obviously concerned for her situation, and she sighed. “Marty ignores Bobby. We talked about it once, and it was so hard for him—” She stopped as her throat grew tight with tears.

  “Oh, honey.” Silver put a hand over hers. “Give him time.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself,” she said. “But I don’t know if he’ll ever adjust to having another little boy in his home. I told him I would go…” The tears welled up and flowed over, and Lyn got up to bring a box of tissues to the table.

  “You love him, don’t you?” she asked quietly as she resumed her seat.

  Juliette blew her nose and worked up a trembling smile. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only to other women who are wild about bull-headed ranchers,” Silver said. “Does he know?”

  Juliette shook her head. “We made a basic business arrangement. Love wasn’t a part of it.”

  “Wait a minute.” Lyn shook her head. “I saw the way he kissed you. You can’t tell me he doesn’t have some feelings for you”

  Juliette grimaced. “Only below the belt.”

  All three women laughed. But when the sounds died away, Silver said, “What did he say when you told him you would leave if he wanted you to?”

  “He said he didn’t want me to go.” It was comforting to hear the words spoken aloud. “He said…he said he didn’t want to lose what we had just found.”

  “Hmm.” The sound was noncommittal, but the satisfied smile that lifted Silver’s brow and the knowing look she sent Lyn said she was pleased. “Give him time,” was all she said.

  When Juliette went home, she was loaded with catalogs and Silver’s favorite recipe for shepherd’s pie. She loved to cook and bake, a half-forgotten skill she’d neglected, and she delighted in feeding Marty, who was appreciative of every effort. She had caught him boasting to his brother about her cooking one day last week, telling Deck he was going to have to starting watching how much he ate.

  After the children were in bed, they made love as they did nearly every night. She wondered if she’d ever be able to tell Marty how much she cherished those moments when he reached for her. Later, passion sated, she slept in the curve of his arm, cuddled against him throughout the long, cold winter night.

  But the dark hours of night weren’t the only times he demonstrated his need for her. He came in sometimes in the afternoons, when he thought there was a chance that both children would be napping. He dragged her into the bathroom off the utility room for one memorable shower, and once they even made love in the pantry, when he caught her rummaging through mismatched canning jars.

  He yanked the door firmly shut and took her from behind, his body hot against her back and his breath harsh in her ear as she braced herself against the shelves in the narrow aisle. He caught her chin and tugged her face back to his, claiming her mouth in a deep, wild kiss. She reached back, palmed his smooth, taut buttocks, pulling him deeper into her, and he groaned, sliding one hand around to her belly to hold her to him. He slid one finger down into the nest of curls protecting her delicate femininity, seeking out the little swollen nub of her desire, his rhythmic strokes pushing her body back and forth against his finger, and she quickly climaxed, convulsing around him, triggering his own shuddering, pounding finish. When it was over, she could feel his legs trembling as he slumped over her, panting, and they both laughed.

  “Deck’ll think I’m going lame,” he said, chuckling as he gasped for breath.

  “Ha. He’ll know exactly what we’ve been doing,” she predicted darkly. “I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.”

  It wasn’t until later that she realized they hadn’t thought of protection that afternoon, and she wondered if Marty even thought of the risk they’d taken.

  Of all the things that had gone wrong in those first few days, the loss of his laughter had been what she’d missed the most. Marty seemed a happy man, whistling his way through the parking lot that first night, gently teasing her during their long phone conversations until they both had been laughing.

  Now the whistling resumed and throughout the early days in the month of February, the man she’d met in Rapid City returned. He began to sing in the shower. His dimples winked in his cheeks, his white teeth flashed in frequent smiles, and his blue eyes held a merry devilish gleam when he was up to some trick.

  And she fell deeper and deeper in love.

  Only two things marred her growing contentment. The first was her former mother-in-law. Millicent called the ranch at least twice a week, demanding that Juliette return to California with Bobby, that she send the child to California to be raised “properly” because Lord only knew what he’d learn growing up around a bunch of cowboys, demanding that Juliette prepare a guest room and set a date for her to visit.

  On an evening in the second week of February, Marty came in late in the evening from a bad premature birth in which the cow’s stomach had ruptured while he and two of the hired hands were trying to help her deliver a breech calf. The calf lived but the cow died an hour later, and he had to send the baby over to Cal’s to a cow that had lost her calf. The only good news, he told Juliette in disgust, was that the cow had accepted the substitute calf.

  She helped him out of his stiff, soaking clothing. The outer layers were covered with blood and gore that she was reluctant to examine too closely as she shoved them into the washing machine. She turned to see that Marty had stripped off every stitch of clothing. His body was sculpted with layer upon layer of hard-earned muscle and her breathing began to come faster as she surveyed the broad sweep of his shoulders, the firm muscled contours of his chest and abdomen and the way the mat of hair across his chest narrowed to a thin line down past his navel, then blossomed again in a luxuriant tangle of curl at his thighs. His legs were as solid as oak trees…and that wasn’t the only thing that was solid, she thought in amusement, her gaze sliding back up to his face.
>
  His eyes were a hot, blazing blue; she knew that look. Whenever Marty turned that look on her, her bones seemed to turn to gelatin and her lower belly quivered in anticipation.

  He covered the small distance between them, standing so close that his erection brushed her belly. “Are the kids in bed?”

  She nodded, swallowing, not sure her voice would work.

  “Good,” he muttered as his arms came around her and pulled her hard against him. “Kiss me.”

  She did, turning her face up and sliding her arms around his neck as he fumbled between them with her shirt buttons. His tongue invaded her mouth with familiar sweetness and she met him with her own response, her body singing as he tore open her shirt and thrust his hands inside to cover her breasts, rubbing the nipples to taut points beneath her bra.

  Then he stroked his palms down, across the satiny skin of her torso to the belt and the snap of the new jeans she’d bought just weeks ago, stripping them from her with such efficiency that she barely had time to register the cooler air on her body. “Brr, it’s cold in here,” she managed in between kisses.

  Marty lifted his head and grinned, a cocky masculine expression. “Couldn’t prove it by me.”

  She burst out laughing as he picked her up, stopping only to grab a small foil packet from the pocket of his jeans.

  “What’s that?” she teased. “Your rabbit’s foot that you carry everywhere?”

  He grinned as he dropped his head and gently closed his teeth on her neck. “I’ve learned to be prepared for anything when you’re around.” Leaving her outer clothing strewn across the utility room floor, he carried her into the relative warmth of the kitchen. But as she slid down his body, his laughter died away and he bent to her once more. “I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered, sliding his mouth along her jaw. “It’s damned embarrassing. Deck’s caught me daydreaming a dozen times.” He pressed a strand of stinging kisses to her collarbone and cruised on down across her breastbone to the slight swell of one breast, boldly brushing aside her bra, taking the tip into his mouth and suckling with hard purpose. She cried out as arrows of intense pleasure streaked straight to her womb, and she wriggled her hips against him, wordlessly begging for his possession.