AN EARLY CHRISTMAS GIFT

by Susan Crosby

“What’s your problem? It’s your dream, Jen. It’s what you want. Why are you angry?”

  “Because you totally left me out of the loop, out of the decision. I’m not just your wife. I’m your partner.” She seemed to want to say more, but left the room instead.

  He heard the screen door slam as she went out of the house. After a minute, he poured two glasses of lemonade and carried them outside onto the porch. She wasn’t there, however. He set down the glasses and went in search of her, finding her vigorously tilling soil in one of the high tunnel greenhouses.

  “I know you don’t want the farm,” she said, not looking at him. “If you’re doing this for me and it bombs, you’ll resent me for an action you took. I will always be the bad guy.”

  “No, I won’t. And you shouldn’t worry so much. I’ll take care of us. All three of us. I know what my job is, Jen. You’ll be provided for.”

  She threw up her hands. “I don’t want to be provided for. I want to work side by side with you, to be your partner, not some albatross around your neck. You didn’t have a choice but to marry me. At least include me in the other important decisions.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. She was right. Four years ago he’d married her knowing it wasn’t a choice but a necessity. She’d been only eighteen years old, was naive in the ways of the world. He’d gotten her pregnant. That time was his fault. He’d known better, should have been more conscientious about birth control.

  And maybe he hadn’t officially made a choice this time, either, to stay with her, to acknowledge their child, but he didn’t regret it. She didn’t seem to realize that.

  He reached for her hands. “Choice or not, Jen, I’m glad to be married to you.”

  Her chin went up a notch or two. “You took way too long to say that, Win. Way too long.” She breezed past him.

  He wasn’t sure of his welcome in their bed later. She was already curled up under the sheet, her back to the bedroom door. He undressed and climbed in behind her, wondering if she was going to order him out. Well, he wasn’t going anywhere, so she’d better not try—

  She rolled over. He didn’t see anger, just distress.

  “I hate fighting with you,” she said, laying a hand against his face.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know you’ll take care of us,” she said, her voice shaky. “But you need to understand that you’re not in this alone.”

  “I watched my father rule the roost, having total control over my mother and my siblings and me. It’s not always easy breaking our examples, but I’m trying.”

  Except he still wasn’t being honest with her. He hadn’t told her he’d quit his job just when he’d come to realize how much it meant to him, that they had to make the lavender farm work. She would worry too much. He’d get a part-time job, work faster on the property, have it ready to go for the first planting.

  He would make her dream come true, come hell or high water.

  She came closer and kissed him. He reached for her, holding tight, kissing her hard and deep, feeling her answering need. He slid his hand down her, cupped her abdomen, a firm swell now.

  Win threw back the sheets and pressed his lips to that little baby bump. He didn’t want his child to grow up amid arguments and tension, as he had.

  “Have you felt the baby kicking yet?” he asked.

  “No.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m anxious for that.”

  “Me, too.” He moved up so he could kiss her again. “Are we okay, wife?”

  She hesitated a beat. “Yes.”

  Win felt a need to make love to her slowly and tenderly. There was a fragility about her tonight even as she’d been strong, too, in her demands for a partnership, for joint decisions. It was that inner strength that would make her succeed with her farm.

  But enough of that. This was a time for rediscovery, for forging a new path with her, for showing her how much she mattered. He took his time, building slowly but inevitably toward giving her satisfaction, just her, no matter how much she begged him to come inside her. He felt a freedom with her he hadn’t before. Maybe starting today he would become the man he’d always wanted to be.

  Whatever the reason, he would cherish the memories they were making this night and carry them forever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jenny had never been to Morgan Ranch before. After talking with Rose, she timed her visit for when she knew Win would be far from the house. Jenny wouldn’t be welcome. She knew that, but she had something to say to her father-in-law.

  Morgan Ranch was her husband’s past and his future. Except for the difficulty dealing day-to-day with his father, Win loved his work, and he was hurting from his father’s rejection of Win’s plans for the ranch’s future. Even at the breakfast table that morning, deep down pain registered in his eyes and his posture, as well as his almost desperate kiss goodbye. She’d made up her mind then and there to do something about it.

  Her father and her brother Mitch had argued about modernizing, too, and they’d managed to work things out between them. So she would intervene with Win’s father, try to get him to see the light, that planning for the future was critical to continuing the tradition of Morgan Ranch. If he tossed her right out the door, so be it. She needed to try.

  Rose let her in and pointed her toward the room where Jenny could find Shep. The house was gloomy—wood paneling, deep red curtains, old furnishings. Dark, all of it. And oppressive, Jenny thought. A little paint and the curtains open to the daylight would lighten things up considerably. She wondered how Rose dealt with it day in and day out.

  She was curious about which room was Win’s, and if she could pick it out as his, but she didn’t get the opportunity to look. Every door down the hallway was shut except the one to the den.

  She found Shep riding a stationary bike and watching the news.

  “Good morning, Dad Morgan,” Jenny said too enthusiastically.

  He gave her a look. “Wondered how long it would take for you to show up. Come beggin’ for your husband’s job, did you?”

  Staggered by his words, Jenny grabbed the nearest chair. She looked at the floor, trying to hide her expression from him as her world spun. Win had been fired? And he hadn’t told her?

  “Actually, sir,” she said, pulling herself together. “I came just to visit you.”

  His mouth tipped up on one side. “Interestin’ timing, I’d say.”

  Jenny sat in the chair, not waiting for him to invite her. “We haven’t had a chance to get to know each other.”

  “I don’t figure our paths will cross a whole lot, ’specially now. You don’t live on the property, after all.”

  “Would you like us to?”

  His brows went up at that. “You thinkin’ maybe the Morgans could turn into the Ryders, create a family compound or something with communal meals and happy holidays?”

  “Everything is possible. People just have to be willing to try.” Jenny’s racing heart began to slow. Win had been fired and hadn’t told her. She couldn’t reconcile that in her mind. No wonder he’d wanted to sign the real estate papers last night. He wanted to rush it through before the bank found out he wasn’t employed anymore.

  Shep continued to pedal. “Since I offered him the chance to become a partner and ultimately my heir and he turned it down, I don’t see that happening, do you? And he did it all for you, a silly girl who got herself pregnant twice.” He snorted. “You stole my son, destroyed his heritage, for a damn lavender farm.”

  As shock layered upon shock, one fact sang out to Jenny. Win hadn’t been fired. He’d resigned, and he’d done it for her, sacrificed his rightful place for her.

  Guilt and regret opened up inside her, a huge chasm of painful acknowledgement. She didn’t deserve him. They hadn’t had a real marriage but had played at it
, not being honest with each other. She hadn’t been a good wife, hadn’t shown him enough gratitude. She’d argued with him just last night, wanting control for herself, when he was the one doing all the giving.

  Worst of all, she hadn’t told him how much she loved him. Maybe that would make a difference to him. She’d been holding back her fear of rejection so long and so hard, as well as her walled-off grief over her miscarriage, a grief she’d never shared with him. And he was such a good man, the kind who stayed. The problem was, she still wanted him to stay for the right reasons.

  She didn’t want him giving up his place at the ranch so that she could make them go broke creating a lavender farm, the pipe dream of a girl, not the realistic goal of a wife and soon-to-be mother.

  “Got you thinkin’, huh?” Shep said, breaking into her thoughts, looking smug.

  “It seems to me,” she said, standing, “that it’s up to you to make the change, not him. If you could’ve seen him while you were in surgery, you wouldn’t question his love for you, even if you’ve done everything you could to make yourself almost impossible to love. He’s a good man. The best. But he made himself that way, not you. If you want to rescue your relationship, if you want the only son you didn’t drive away to come back and work this ranch with you, you’ll find a way to make it happen.”

  She started to leave then turned around. “You keep this up and you won’t get to know your grandchild, either. I had a gruff, ornery grandfather like you. I’m sure you knew him. He also didn’t let anyone tell him what to do or how to live, but somehow he still managed to have the love and respect of his children and grandchildren. It can be done. Ever heard of the word compromise?”

  Shep’s voice was harsh. “Win’s as stubborn as me, you know, girl, just in a quieter way. He wouldn’t come back.”

  “Try him.” Jenny had done all she could do. Win was probably going to be furious at her for going behind his back, but she knew what it meant to have family on your side. She wanted her child to know all his grandparents. She wanted her husband to be doing the work he loved.

  Her motives were pure. Would Win see it that way?

  They were supposed to meet at the Realtor’s office after he was done at the ranch. Would Shep mention that Jenny had been to see him? Would Win already be angry about that?

  Angry enough to insist on that marriage of convenience she’d told him she didn’t want?

  No. She would fight for him. He was the only one who mattered.

  * * *

  Win walked to his truck after a long day working at the ranch. He snatched a piece of paper from under his windshield wiper, having spotted it as he climbed into his vehicle.

  “Dad wants to see you,” the note read.

  That couldn’t be good—and he had other things to do, so he ignored it and drove off. Jenny was sitting on a bench outside the Realtor’s office when he arrived. She looked nervous or wary or something.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “No.”

  His shoulders dropped. “I don’t want to argue in public with you, Jen. People will stare.”

  “There’s no need to argue, Win. It’s simple. I’m not signing the papers, not for the farmland and not for the loan. I don’t want to do it anymore. I’ve come to realize it’s too much to take on.”

  He didn’t buy that for a second. It was all she’d wanted since before she’d graduated and come home. She’d put all that effort into coming up with a plan, had been excited and eager to accomplish her vision, had been so devastated at being denied the loan that she’d ended up having sex with him in the truck, in the rain—and that had created a baby. And this situation they were in.

  Her desire for the farm couldn’t change overnight, so what had caused this?

  “Did my father call you?” he asked.

  “No.” She shifted. “But I went to visit him.”

  There was his answer. His father had gotten to her. “Why?”

  “I was making an effort to reach out to him, to start building a family relationship. I thought it would be important, not just to you, but our baby. Instead I found out you’d resigned. You can’t resign, Win.”

  “I’ll do whatever I think is right for us, and for myself. I’m done with him.”

  “Okay. Well, in that same sense, I’m done with the lavender farm. Where does that leave us?”

  He still didn’t believe her. His father had manipulated her. She’d decided to sacrifice her dream farm for him, so that he could inherit the ranch someday. He didn’t want it, not with his father’s strings attached.

  “Let’s go sign the papers, Jen.”

  “I already told Ellen we weren’t going to counteroffer. Win, we would never make a success financially of it. I imagine you’ve seen that yourself but didn’t want to disappoint me. Thank you, but let’s set the dream free.”

  So, she didn’t have faith in him to help her pull it off. That’s what it boiled down to for him.

  “I’ll see you at home later,” he said, done talking about it. He got into his truck and took off.

  There was something she was leaving out, he decided as he headed to the grove—their grove—to think. He didn’t know what it was, but it was important.

  And their marriage depended on her telling him, whatever it was, or his figuring it out.

  She wouldn’t give up her dream out of fear that she wouldn’t succeed—she had too much confidence in herself for that.

  So why was she doing it? Once he knew that, they would move forward.

  * * *

  Jenny didn’t know where to go. If she went to the farm she’d be alone. She didn’t want to be alone. If she went to the homestead, her mother would give her that look that said, “Talk to me.” She didn’t want her mother to have that much information.

  So Jenny headed for Annie and Mitch’s house. She could use the excuse of wanting to hold the baby then ease into talking about her dilemma. Maybe.

  Jenny pulled into the driveway in front of Mitch and Annie’s house. Annie was on the porch nursing Jamie.

  “Pull up a rocker,” Annie said. “Mitch and Austin just left for town. They’re going to the movies.”

  “Babies grow so fast,” Jenny said, cupping the back of Jamie’s head for a moment.

  “They do. He’s sleeping through the night. It’s lovely to get a full eight hours rest, although Mitch has been the one to get out of bed, change his diaper and pass him off to me. I knew he’d be hands-on, but I hadn’t realized how much.” She turned a steady gaze on Jenny as she took a seat in the next chair. “I’m guessing Win will be the same.”

  “I know he’ll be as different from his father as he can manage,” Jenny said. She drew a deep, shaky breath. “I love him so much, Annie. And I can’t tell him.”

  Annie barely reacted to what should have surprised her. “Well, first of all, I’m sure he must see that, since all the rest of us do. Second, why can’t you tell him?”

  “I’m afraid I’ll say it and he won’t say it back.”

  Annie closed her eyes for a few seconds, smiling. “Mitch told me he loved me every day for more than a month before I believed him. Before I allowed myself to believe him. I was so scared to tell him I loved him, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because then we would have to move to the next level.”

  “Marriage?”

  “No, although that worried me. I’d already failed once, and I’d decided I wouldn’t get involved with a man again until Austin was grown so that he wouldn’t be hurt, either.”

  Annie toed the rocker steadily. “No, the next level for me was total honesty. I had to share my fears, my failures and my disappointments. I wanted him to see me as this perfect woman he’d conjured up in his mind, and if I shared all that with him, he would see I really wasn’t perf
ect.”

  “And it didn’t matter, because you were—are—perfect for him.”

  “Yes.”

  “You have a good marriage. A solid one.”

  “Because I stopped worrying about what he might think and just trusted him to accept me as I was. Plus you’ve seen him with Austin. Mitch won’t hurt either of us.” She brought Jamie up to her shoulder and rubbed his back. “Tell Win you love him, and whatever else is weighing on your mind. Trust him.”

  Trust him. She did trust him with physical and financial issues, but with her emotions? With the pain she’d held close to her heart for four years?

  She would do it tonight. She would rip off the bandage then deal with the aftermath.

  Jenny drove home, anxious and fretful. She didn’t attempt to make dinner because she couldn’t possibly eat a bite, so she poured herself some iced tea and sat on the porch to wait for her husband to come home.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Win had barely settled in at the river when his phone rang. He eyed the number. It could be either his father or Rose. He didn’t want to talk to either of them. He had to figure what to do next with his life, how to handle his marriage.

  But as much as he tried, he couldn’t just ignore the call.

  “Win!” Rose shouted in the phone. “Dad’s on his horse! He’s off somewhere riding right now!”

  A litany of choice words rolled off Win’s tongue before he said, “Call—I don’t know. Maybe call Ms. Upton. We can’t call 911 until we know there’s a need. I’m twenty minutes away.”

  He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and flew down the back roads, reaching the ranch in record time.

  “Your horse is saddled,” Rose said as he zipped into the yard. “Carlos and the others are already out looking for him.” She passed him a walkie-talkie then wrung her hands. “He has to be all right. He has to.”

  Dread settled in Win’s gut. “He’ll be okay,” he said as much to himself as his sister. He checked on everyone’s location then headed in a different direction, and the route that made the most sense to him, anyway.