Grace looked askance at her, and said, "How long did you talk?"
Justine didn't like the direction the conversation was leading. Giving a little shrug, she said, "Not long. He left right after that. But there's something I've been wondering about for a long time and have been meaning to ask," she said, steering the conversation away from Brad Meecham and Grace's probing questions. "Have you and Jack decided what to tell the boys about how they were conceived?"
Grace eyed her dubiously. "We plan to leave things as they are," she replied. "Marc and Adam are fraternal twins."
"Figuratively, but not literally," Justine said, and she wondered how long the family could keep the falsehood going. Susan would never want it known that the only reason she'd conceived Marc was to save her other son who needed a cord blood transplant. And Jack's brother, Sam, did whatever Susan wanted, just to keep peace in the marriage. But Jack was clearly bothered by the righteous conspiracy, but keeping Grace happy overrode that.
"Jack's name is on Marc's birth certificate," Grace said. "He is his father."
"They were born a day apart," Justine reminded her. "How will you explain that?"
"A time error on Marc's certificate," Grace retorted. "But they weren't born that far apart."
Justine looked at the toddlers, who were playing a game of run around in a circle and try to catch the other, and said, "I thought with artificial insemination the bio father's name had to be on the birth certificate."
"It does," Grace said, reaching out to grab Adam, who was about to tackle Marc, "but that certificate's packed away. When we adopted Marc, Jack and my names were put on his new certificate so there's no reason for Marc to ever know any different." She looked directly at Justine then, and added, "That is, if no one tells him."
Justine raised her hands, palms splayed outward, and said, "Don't look at me like that. I would never say anything. This is between the four of you. I just think it's sad that little Marc will never know anything about his real father."
"Jack is his real father now," Grace insisted. "Besides, it's more important that little Marc grow up knowing he's just as loved as Adam than worrying about a father who died two years before he was born."
"What about when the boys are eighteen and Ricky's twenty-one?" Justine asked. "Do you plan to tell them then?"
Grace shook her head. "Savior babies have problems. One child lives because another needed him to be born, so the savior baby feels like he's nothing more than a means to someone else's end, which Marc is since Susan didn't want him. It's just easier to leave things be. They're fraternal twins and that's that."
"Except that little Marc has Susan's odd-colored eyes that change from hazel to smoke gray and almost green at times, and everyone else's are brown," Justine pointed out.
"We can't worry about that," Grace said, her voice agitated.
Jack swept open the back door and stepped inside. Seeing the boys, he crouched and opened his arms, and both boys went rushing up to him. Bundling one in each arm, Jack stood.
Grace walked over to him and gave him a kiss, and said, "I love you sweetheart. Thanks for giving me this hour of not-so-much-chaos."
"Honey, I can take Ryan too, if you want," Jack said.
"He's fine," Grace replied. "I'll be putting him down for a nap in a few minutes."
After Jack left with the boys, Grace said, with a twinkle in her eye, "Why do I want to go to bed with the man every time I look at him?"
Justine smiled. It seemed odd to think of Grace as lusting after a man, even if he was her husband. Grace hadn't dated much in high school and when she did it was with dull, studious boys, the kind of guys the elder Page sister wouldn't have spent ten minutes with. But there was no question that Grace had the hots for her husband. "Gracie, if you didn't want to get it on with a man like Jack I'd know something was wrong with you."
A couple of hours later, after Jack returned the boys to Grace at their house for naps, and while Grace was giving them a snack before putting them down, Justine caught sight of movement beyond the front window and saw Brad walking past. He was wearing the fleece-lined parka she'd seen in his cabin, a wool hat with ear flaps, and snow boots. She went to the window and watched to see where he was going and noticed it was in the direction of the stables...
...confront your demons and get rid of them... go back and look at that hook...
Grace stepped up beside her and saw Brad walking off. "Don't do it, Justine," she said. "You've got your eye on that man and he's no good for you."
"It's not like you think," Justine said, while grabbing her jacket off a coat peg by the door.
Grace rushed over and took her by the arm. "Stop!" she said. "What is going on in your head? You're chasing after that man. Did you know him before coming here?"
"No, but I need to catch up with him," Justine replied, anxious to leave, wanting to be with Brad when he entered the stables, if that's where he was going.
"Why?" Grace asked, holding onto Justine's arm. "You don't even know him."
Justine shrugged off Grace's hand and slipped into the jacket. "I'm going because he needs me right now." She pulled her wool cap over her head and started for the door.
"Are you insane?" Grace rushed around Justine and pressed her back to the door to keep her from leaving. "Why would Brad Meecham need you? He's got to have women all over the country. He goes on book tours all the time. And he's not a monk. Look at the man. He's head-to-toe testosterone. You'll end up in his bed, he'll use you as long as you're here, and he'll drop you like the rest of your men do when they're finished with you, except with Brad Meecham you might read about yourself in one of his books someday. The woman the CIA agent screwed while stranded in a snow-covered cabin at a guest ranch, but he couldn't help himself. She was there, and she was available."
Justine was stunned to hear Grace talking the way she was. People screwing people wasn't part of Grace's vocabulary. But then, Grace was married, and she liked screwing Jack. Still, she knew Grace was concerned. "I can't explain it right now," she said, "but Brad does need me."
Grace looked at her, long and hard. "You've been to bed with him, haven't you?"
Justine gave a kind of half shrug. "I comforted him."
Grace threw her arms up in disgust. "You came here to try to get your life in order but I don't think that's what you intend to do. You're here camping on our doorstep because you don't have any place to go because all the men in your life have kicked you out. Well, go on then. Catch up with the man. Spend the rest of your time here in his bed. Just don't come crying on my shoulder when he's finished with you. I've tried to help you but you don't want to help yourself."
Justine zipped up her jacket and said to Grace, "Honey, I love you, and I know you think the worst of your big sister right now, and in time I hope to explain about Brad and me—there's more to this than you know. But what's happening between us is different than it's been with any other man I've ever been involved with. Brad's different. I know he won't use me or hurt me but I can't tell you why I know. Just trust me this time." She gave Grace a kiss on the cheek and left.
She caught up with Brad as he was about to enter the stables. When she reached for his arm he jumped with a start and thrust out his elbow, and his hand curved into a fist as he swung around, about to strike her. Then he caught himself, slammed his fist hard against his other palm, and said, in a sharp voice, "Don't ever come up on me from behind without saying anything." He took several long breaths, letting each out slowly.
"I'm sorry," Justine said. "Are you alright?"
Brad rested his hands on her shoulders and dropped his forehead against hers, and said, "I could have busted your jaw or sent you sprawling to the ground. It's reflexes. It just happens. And you need to leave now."
"Why?" she asked, finding her hands resting at his waist.
"Because I'm going in there to confront my demons," he replied, dropping his hands from her shoulders and breaking the connection between them.
She removed her hands from him. "Then I'll go with you."
"No," Brad said. "I could hurt you. I don't know what will happen."
"I've been hurt before," Justine replied.
Brad looked at her intently. "By who?"
Justine shrugged. "Men. Some get rough when they're mad. Or during sex."
Brad's blue eyes darkened to cobalt. "Hell, Justine. Why do you let them do it? Why don't you walk away from them? Why don't you walk away from me?"
Justine couldn't explain about the others, but she did know about Brad. "Because you drew me into your mind in your book and I saw the scene through your eyes. Because in the cabin when I was holding you I could feel what you were going through. Because when you go in there now and see that hook, I want to be with you if you need me again."
Brad gave a short, sardonic laugh. "Yeah, we both know what that was all about. It won't happen again."
"But it's okay if it does," Justine insisted.
Brad looked at her intently, then raised his hand and touched her face, and said, "You're a special woman, Justine Page. Don't ever let any man tell you otherwise. But stop letting the bastards use you." He moved toward her, and Justine was sure he was about to kiss her, and she wanted him to kiss her, but instead, he said, "Okay then come with me. But if things start up again, don't let me use you like I did."
"I said it would be okay."
"No, it's not okay," Brad said. "There are other ways to knee a man in the balls. Letting him humiliate himself is one of them."
Justine understood what he was saying, but he was also taking away the one thing she could give to him, Men had suckled her breasts during sex and she'd hated it, but allowing them to do it brought her closer to the glass ceiling so she put up with it, along with having them climb on top of her to finish the job. All part of the game-of-success in a man's world. But with Brad it was different, even when she stood in front of him with her shirt gaping open while he was trying to prove a point. But now, she had no choice but to allow him to confront his demons like a man.
"I'll just be with you," she said.
He put his arm around her shoulders and she slipped her hand around his waist. "Okay, then I guess I'm ready to go in there and slay the dragon."
CHAPTER 3
Brad felt Justine's arm tighten around him as they stepped into the stables. But when he looked to where the hook had been, it was gone.
"Look out below," Jack called from the hayloft. They heard the grind of a motor as an old tractor engine, hanging from the hook, was being lowered by a hydraulic winch. For an instant the engine morphed into a mutilated body, but Brad took several long breaths and willed the image to go away... and it was an engine again.
"You okay?" Justine asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Brad replied, focusing on reality—a length of cable with a farm hook. A rusted out tractor engine block...
Jack called down, "Could you unhook the engine, Meecham?"
"I'll do it," Justine called up to Jack. She reached for the hook.
Brad grabbed her arm to stop her. "Don't," he said. "You'll scratch your hand. The old engine's rusty." For a few moments he looked at her hand. Smooth skin. Long tapered fingers. Nails manicured. A hand as unblemished as she was on the outside. She had multiple blemishes inside though. None he couldn't handle. All worth fixing.
"I'm not a china doll," Justine snapped, and reached for the hook. She gave it a twist and released the engine. "Send down more junk if you want," she called up to Jack.
They could hear Jack's guffaw rolling down from the loft. "Better be careful, Justine," he said. "You'll turn into a ranch hand." He scurried down the ladder from the loft and took the hook from Justine's hand and shoved it into a wide crack in a post to get it out of the way.
Brad looked at the hook with its tip in a crevice... like the boy's belly... and his heart began pumping hard... and he started trembling... and he felt the blood draining from his face...
"Hell," he said. "Not now..."
Justine placed her hand on his back. "Look away," she said. But it was too late. Jack saw what was happening. Not the trembling—Brad could almost disguise that—but he couldn't disguise the blood-drained shock on his face. Brad knew it was there. He started breathing deeply. It sometimes calmed things...
Jack's eyes shifted between Brad and Justine and the hook. Taking Brad's arm, he turned him away from the sight of the hook and said, "I want to take the two of you to a place where you can come to terms with the past. It'll be good for your souls."
"Where?" Justine asked.
"The spring. You know about it, Justine, but you've never been there, but it's where both of you need to be right now." When neither of them replied, Jack said, "Trust me. It's only ten minutes by horse."
"Can't we hike?" Justine asked. "I've never ridden a horse. I only just petted one for the first time two days ago, your big horse Dan."
"Dan's one of my best trail horses," Jack said. "We put all the new riders up on him. It would also make Grace happy if you rode a horse. She's worried about you not getting out and doing things."
Justine shrugged. "I guess. As long as you say Dan's gentle."
"You'll do fine." Jack looked at Brad. "What about you, Meecham? Can you ride?"
"Sure," Brad replied. "My grandfather had a ranch. I used to visit him summers."
"Good. I'll get them saddled. You're both dressed okay."
"So what's special about this place?" Brad asked.
"It's called Whispering Springs and it's a place where the Indians went to be freed of evil spirits. At least that's what their descendants claim. There's an Indian mound not far from there. But Whispering Springs is where you both need to be." Jack eyed Brad steadily. "When you get back you'll be able to look at that hook and see only a hook."
Brad looked at Jack with a new respect. He hadn't told him about the hooks, only that he'd seen things he couldn't put aside, but Jack read his book and filled in the rest.
Jack saddled the horses and they started out on a snow-covered trail that bordered a stream partially frozen over, with water rushing around rocks and through low brush poking through the snow. Justine rode behind Jack, and Brad brought up at the rear. Justine turned and looked at Brad, her face flushed from the cold, her eyes bright and watery with tears from the wintry air. She smiled at him, and Brad knew she was enjoying this little adventure.
She was also more beautiful than when he saw her sitting in the lodge and she looked up and caught him watching. In only four days she'd changed from that woman. He was glad to see the change, but it bothered him that he wanted her more. He also had the arrogance to think he could satisfy her more than the others. He wanted to try, but wouldn't. Not without the ring.
About ten minutes later, Jack turned his horse off the main trail and dismounted. "You can tie your horses to a tree," he said.
Brad dismounted and tied his horse, then went to help Justine down. But when he raised his hands to her she pushed them away, and said, "I want to do this by myself."
Damn, if she wasn't becoming his kind of woman. A whole lot of spunk when she got peeved. He'd have to keep a tighter rein on things. In the end, they'd just be two people coming together for a short affair then going their separate ways. That was the way it was with women like Justine, high-powered women who went after what they wanted and used whatever they had to cinch the deal. And with Justine, it was brains, unrivaled beauty, and a willingness to use her body to get what she wanted.
The problem was, he was beginning to think she didn't know what the hell she really wanted, so she'd keep searching, and using men, and searching...
After tethering the horses, they started up a narrow snow-covered footpath that cut into the side of the hill, and after a short hike, ended at the mouth of the cavern where snow had melted from the heat of the hot springs. Inside was a natural rock pool, which looked, in the dusky twilight of the cavern, to be about eight feet in diameter, with steam rising from its dark surface.
/> "Here's a towel," Jack said. "You'll have to share it." He offered the towel. "The pool has a natural ledge that you can sit on. If you're quiet you'll hear sounds, probably wind finding its way through crevices in the rocks, but after you've listened for a while you'll feel different. Whatever was bothering you won't matter so much." He turned to Justine, and said, "You can get in the water first. It's dark in there and Brad won't see you."
Justine gave Jack a wry smile. "I don't have a fetish about men seeing me," she replied, "and I'm sure Brad's seen his share of women."
Jack glanced from one to the other. "I'll leave you two then. The trail's easy to follow and the horses know the way home." As he passed Brad on the way out, he patted him on the shoulder, and said, "I trust you with her. Don't let me down."
Brad watched him go. Jack Hansen was an unusual man. He didn't have the degrees, but he was a self-educated man with uncanny insight. And he was wise. He knew when a man could be trusted. His sister-in-law would be safe in a hot springs pool with Brad Meecham, Jack decided. A heavy burden for any hot-blooded male to bear, especially with a woman like Justine...
"Are you going in?" Justine asked, while eyeing him.
"Sure. That's why Jack brought us here." Brad shrugged out of his parka and tugged his wool shirt and tee shirt together over his head and tossed them onto the rock floor of the cavern, then started unfastening his jeans. "You don't care, do you?" he asked.
"Do what you want," Justine said. "I'm familiar with the anatomy of a man."
Brad slipped off his jeans and briefs and tossed them onto the shirt and parka and crouched beside the pool, testing the water. "It's warm," he said, feeling his body changing at the thought of Justine being naked in the water with him, yet knowing he wouldn't touch her. Hoping the steamy water would settle things down he eased into the pool, letting out a sigh as the warmth closed in around him. He rested his head against the rock wall behind him, and with the water mid-chest, waited to see what Justine would do. Which was to stand looking down at the pool.
Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 23
