"What's going on?" Maude asked, shocked.
Christabel lifted her chin proudly. "Nothing. Nothing at all. He's just upset and not having an easy time dealing with what happened. He has to work it out his own way."
Maude sighed. "If you say so, honey."
Maude waited until he left. Ten minutes later, he was out the door and gone. He gave Christabel one long, last look and actually winced as he met her wounded eyes. But he didn't stop. He wished them both a Merry Christmas and drove away. He was halfway to Victoria before he remembered that he hadn't even told Christabel about the pearl necklace and matching earrings he'd bought her for her combination birthday and Christmas present. But considering the circumstances, that might be just as well. He'd gone nuts and taken her to bed. She'd be expecting happy ever after, and he was more confused about his intentions than he'd ever been in his life. He had to have time, to decide what he wanted to do. At the moment, he was incapable of making decisions.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Early on New Year's Eve, with the ballistics test completed and an autopsy performed on John Clark, Judd came by at lunchtime in a quiet and introspective mood.
Christabel was watching the news in the living room when he walked in. Maude had gone to town for groceries. He noticed immediately that the Christmas tree had been taken down. Christabel never liked taking it down until New Year's Day, so this was painful evidence of how uncomfortable she was now with the holiday season. The present he hadn't given her made him uncomfortable. He still had it at his apartment. He was too ashamed at this late date to produce it.
He sat down in his easy chair, tossing his hat aside while Christabel waited quietly for what he had to tell her. The television blared on into the silence.
He shrugged. "I was right. My shot went too far inside and nicked Clark's femoral artery. He could have survived it, but only with immediate medical attention." He smiled broodingly. "I don't feel a lot better. But they said the security guard's bullet was the lethal one, and that's how it'll go on the report."
She was uncomfortable with him after the way they'd parted.
But she cared too much to pretend his condition didn't matter to her. "Intent is everything under the law, Judd, you know that," she reminded him softly. "You didn't mean to kill him. I'm sure the security guard didn't, either."
His eyes were haunted. "No, he didn't. But he's having a hard time. Clark is still dead, and the newspapers blame both of us, despite what the coroner found."
She wanted to climb into his lap and hold him, comfort him. But there was a tremendous distance between them now. He was as unapproachable as if he'd never touched her in the first place.
She was confused, and she felt rejected. She'd never realized what it would be like, to be intimate with a man. It wasn't what she'd once thought. It was agony to be separated from him, even for an hour. But he didn't want her on any permanent basis. He'd had too much to drink, been traumatized, and he'd comforted himself with Christabel in bed. That was all it was, really. For him it was already over. Clark's death wasn't his fault. He'd go back to work, when he'd gone through the administrative procedure and counseling, and, slowly, he'd put everything that had happened right out of his mind, including the night with her. In fact, to look at him, she knew he'd already done it.
"You're very quiet," he remarked.
She lifted her eyes to his. "I'm sorry. You said, they'd finished the autopsy?"
He nodded. "They're burying him day after tomorrow. One of the deputies here is going to take Jack Clark up to Victoria for the funeral. The news media will have a real field day with that."
"We live in strange times," she replied. She studied him sadly. It was hard to talk to him now. "But like you used to tell me, even life is a temporary condition. You'll get through this."
"Sure." His chest rose and fell slowly. He traced her face with slow, dark eyes. "I've been putting this off because I couldn't quite face it. But we have to talk about the future, Christabel," he said finally.
"What future?" she asked with a forced smile.
He drew in a short breath. "I have to see about the divorce."
She didn't react. It was hard, but she managed it. "Yes."
He relaxed. She was taking it much better than he'd expected her to. He still wasn't sure of his feelings, but he had to do something. "I'll get to it as soon as I can. Things are a little hectic right now. They're backed up on investigations, so mine is on hold, probably until after New Year's. I still have questions to answer and a counselor to see. There will be reports, depositions, and all the official aftermath of the shooting."
She studied his hard mouth with growing unease. "You're sorry about what we did, aren't you, Judd?" She had to know.
He didn't answer right away. "Yes," he said finally, biting off the word. "I had too much to drink and you were handy," he said flatly. "I had no right to use you to take my mind off my own problems."
Her heart sank right down to her knees. Talk about being blunt...! "We are married," she began.
"That doesn't excuse it!" He grimaced. "Christabel, I never planned on any intimacy between us. I insisted on it. You know that! You know why!"
He looked very uncomfortable, and all her hopes vanished in the certainty of what he was really saying. It hadn't occurred to her that two people who had been so intimate, so close, could suddenly become strangers in such a short space of time. But he looked remote and trapped. Freedom was as sacred as religion to him. He didn't want her.
"You don't want to stay married to me," she said on a quiet sigh. "I know that."
He wasn't sure what he wanted. He was unsettled, confused. He'd gone in headfirst just after the shooting. He'd needed comforting, he'd needed a woman. He'd used alcohol as an excuse to have Christabel, for whom he'd been slowly dying. But now he was feeling the guilt of having pushed her into a relationship she wasn't ready for. She'd never even dated seriously. He'd taken away her right to choose. Her infatuation with him had played out to its inevitable conclusion and he was thinking about his loss of freedom, his uneasiness with roots and family life. Walls were closing in on him. He had to have personal space, time to get over the trauma of the past few days, the shooting and his radically changed relationship with his young wife. It was killing him, trying to forget how it had been with her in that dark bedroom. He'd never thought her capable of such uninhibited passion. In fact, he'd never thought himself capable of it.
"No. I don't want to stay married," he said doggedly, more for his benefit than hers.
She nodded. "I see."
"You don't," he replied. "But when you've had time to think about it, you'll realize that I'm right," he added coolly, staring her down. "It was a night out of time, Christabel. I crossed the line and you let me. Now we both have to live with it." He leaned forward with his arms crossed over his splayed legs. "At least there won't be any consequences."
He meant the pill that he thought she'd been taking. She didn't dare tell him about that. She stared at the floor.
"And, of course, there's Miss Moore," she added softly.
He scowled, glancing at her.
"Your fiancee," she reminded him, and forced a smile.
She'd said that once before and he hadn't questioned it. He started to deny it now, but it suited him to let her believe it. If she thought he wanted the other woman, she might find it easier to let go of him. It would also make things easier for Tippy who, unbeknownst to Christabel, was having fits keeping Gary, the assistant director, at bay. Her relationship with Judd had accomplished that, at least.
She noted his sudden silence and drew in a slow breath. "So it was an engagement ring, after all, wasn't it?"
He nodded, affirming the lie with a curt jerk of his head that felt like abject betrayal. She looked shattered. He didn't want to hurt her, but his work was his life. He didn't want to settle into family life. It felt like the worst sort of trap. He'd already taken something that he had no right
to take from her, because he'd lost control of himself. Thank God she'd been on the pill, or he might have been trapped for good.
The shooting played on his mind, tormented him. He knew he wasn't thinking straight, but he couldn't cope with so many changes at one time. Getting used to the idea that he'd helped kill a human being was bad enough, without the turmoil of an intimate relationship with a young woman who hero-worshiped him. Christabel deserved so much more than a night of passion with him. She deserved a good, strong marriage and children. He thought suddenly about her relationship with Grier and how it might change after the divorce. He felt sick at his stomach and he didn't understand why.
Christabel was trying to deal with this complication and failing miserably. It was hard not to give way to tears, when her throat felt as if she'd swallowed a bowling ball. She blinked fast, to dry the suspicious moisture around her dark eyes.
"Okay," she said huskily. "I won't make any trouble for you, Judd. I hope you'll be happy with her." She clasped her hands together hard in her lap and forced a smile. "I knew you had to be serious to buy her a ring like that, when we can barely pay bills around here. You don't have to worry about that," she added quickly, lifting a hand. "You were right about school. I only lack one semester, and only two classes, to graduate. I can get a job and work in between them, at a convenience store or something," she said, her voice rushed as she made plans. "Then, after I graduate, I'll get a job. With the extra money, we can hire somebody else to work full-time, like we planned."
He winced. "Christabel," he began, hating the pain he could hear in her soft voice.
She swallowed, hard. "You can go to Japan alone to meet with the buyers. You deal with foreign people all the time."
"You're part owner," he interrupted.
She wouldn't look at him. "For now," she said. "When the Japanese deal goes through, we'll make decisions. But I don't want to go on living here and be an unwelcome third wheel after you remarry."
"For God's sake!" he burst out, horrified at the things she was saying. He hadn't realized how drastically things might change with his announcement. He was totally unprepared.
She got to her feet. "It's okay," she said. "Really, it is." She forced another smile. "I may have marriage prospects of my own," she added, thinking of Cash.
So did Judd. He was poleaxed. Somehow, his own muddled thinking had plunged them both into this morass of unthinkable futures.
He stood up, too. "None of this has to be decided today!" he said curtly.
"It's best if it is." She moved toward the doorway. "I hope things work out for you up in Victoria," she added, glancing back at him with eyes that didn't reach past his chin. She kept smiling. Her face was going to be frozen in that position. "Happy New Year, Judd. I hope the next one will be happier—for both of us."
She walked out of the room. He looked after her with a sinking heart and felt as if he'd stepped into a deep hole from which there was no escape. So much pain in those brown eyes, so much torment. She'd run to Grier now, damn him, and he'd marry her in a second, given the chance. But Grier wasn't the sort of man who could make her happy. She'd never understand him, or fit into his world. Any more than Judd himself would fit into Tippy Moore's social set.
He remembered Christabel's clinging arms, her hungry mouth pressed to his, her body moving with aching delight under his on those crisp white sheets in the darkness. She'd been his very dream of perfection. But desire alone wouldn't be enough for her. She'd want him around all the time, she'd want children. He shivered, just thinking about those sort of ties. He'd never even considered having a real marriage. His father's example haunted him. What if Christabel, like his mother, found someone else and ran away? Anyway, he'd only married her on paper so that he could assume responsibility for her and her mother and carry on business while she was underage. He'd kept her at arm's length to ensure there wouldn't be complications. But in the turmoil that followed the shooting, he'd needed someone, so desperately. It had been unthinkable to go to another woman. He'd...used her. Or had he? He remembered her hunger for him with anguish. She'd waited so long, while he'd tried to decide if he could even consider settling down for good. He needed more time...
But she was of legal age now, and she wanted out. Out of business, out of marriage, out of his life. That was what he wanted, too. Or was it? He tried to picture never seeing her alone again, never riding fence lines with her, never sharing coffee late at night with her, never talking to her and having that soft, sweet comfort all for himself. She always knew when he was sad or upset, and just what to say to bring him out of it. At times, she almost read his mind. She made him feel warm inside, just by being near him. And now, remembering the feverish response of her body to him in intimacy, he felt even closer to her. But now, he felt...empty. Alone.
He picked up his hat and slanted it over his brow, frowning. He'd get used to being without her. It wasn't going to be that hard. It was the best thing. She was far too young for him, and she hadn't enough experience of men to settle down yet. His conscience reminded him that Grier would snap her up like a prize trout the minute that marriage license was legally void. Christabel, hurt and rejected, would probably marry him immediately on the rebound.
He started toward the door in a half-blind fog of indecision just as it opened and Maude came ambling in with a bag of groceries.
"Hello, Judd. How are things going?" she asked with a gentle smile.
"Slow, for a change," he replied. He glanced toward the kitchen, where he could hear running water. "Keep an eye on her, will you?" he added. "She's upset."
She gave him a knowing look. "No need to ask why. Don't worry about her," she added with a grin. "I've got news that will cheer her right up. Cash is taking her to the New Year's Eve celebration downtown tonight. He's got tickets and there's going to be a band, too."
Judd scowled. "He's too old for her," he bit off, before he could choose his words.
Maude only smiled at him. "You wouldn't think so, to see them together. She makes him young. And you don't have to look hard to know that he's crazy for her. If she were free, he'd have her in front of a minister so fast...!"
"I have to go," he said coldly. "Happy New Year."
"You, too. That reminds me, you never did get your Christmas presents," she said. "Want me to get them for you? I knitted you some socks. She got you a tie tack—a sterling silver star. Remember, you told her you'd love to have one of those? She went to Victoria and spent a whole day looking for just the right thing...you going right now?" she added when he started out the door blindly.
"Yes." His voice sounded choked. He couldn't bear remembering that he hadn't given Christabel anything. An expensive ring for Tippy, who was only a superficial part of his life, and absolutely nothing for the woman who'd sacrificed so much to keep this run-down ranch going while he worked.
"Well, drive safely, then," Maude called after him. "Not going to tell Crissy goodbye?"
He didn't answer her. He stalked out to the SUV, climbed in behind the wheel, and took off like a rocket.
Maude found Crissy at the sink, with tears running silently down her cheeks. She hesitated in the doorway. "You need me to do anything?"
She smiled through the tears and shook her head.
"Cash said he'd come by about six and take you to the New Year's Eve celebration," she added quickly. 'That should cheer you up!"
She closed her eyes. Thank God for Cash. "Yes," she said huskily. "And believe me, I need it. Maude, Judd and I are getting a divorce so he can marry Tippy, isn't that wonderful?"
Maude didn't know what to say.
"I might marry Cash," she continued.
"Don't do that, baby," Maude said gently. "Two wrongs won't make anything right. Besides, you might remember that Judd's going through a traumatic time right now. I wouldn't put too much trust in anything he said while he's this upset. He's not thinking straight. Wait until he gets through counseling and has put the shooting
behind him before you make any concrete decisions, okay?"
Maude had no idea what was really going on, and Crissy didn't want to tell her. She drew in a steadying breath and put detergent in the water she was running. "He didn't even get me a computer program or anything for Christmas, Maude," she told the older woman. "He gave her that expensive ring. He said it was an engagement ring, just like Tippy told us. I guess he's really in love with her. So that's that. I want him to be happy."
So did Maude, but at the moment she could have strangled him. She put the groceries she was still holding on the kitchen table. "More in the car," she murmured, and went out to get them. Crissy didn't even look. She couldn't see much through her tears, anyway.
The New Year's Eve party was great. There was a set of steer horns used to mark the countdown to the new year—Calhoun Ballenger's tongue-in-cheek remark having been taken seriously by the city fathers—and most of the founding families of Jacobsville were represented at the first annual celebration at the Jacobsville Civic Center just off the town square. Janie Brew-ster Hart and her new husband Leo, married just before Christmas, clung to each other as an unexpected little skirl of snow drifted down over the gathering outside when the horns went down and the new year was proclaimed. Everyone smiled indulgently.
Cash bent down and kissed Crissy lightly on the mouth. She caught him around the neck and kissed him back, with a sudden enthusiasm that shook him to the soles of his feet. He returned the kiss with fervent ardor, with all his skill. She smiled under the crush of his mouth, enjoying the novelty of being in his arms. He wasn't Judd, but he was pleasant to kiss, just the same. No need to ask how experienced he really was, it showed. They were oblivious to the people around them, and to even more amused glances.
Inevitably, news of the hot kiss got back to Judd. He was now working his way through therapy and back on the job. It didn't sit well, especially since he was regretting his impulsive speech to Christabel about the divorce more with each passing day.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 350
