by Various
A muscle worked in his jaw and he didn't answer for a second. "I don't want to talk about it now."
"I want to hear about it, Cord. I thought you'd come back out here and talk to me about it, but you went to sleep instead. That's why I didn't go to bed. I thought you were upset with me."
He grabbed her shoulders and held her gaze. "I was tired and needed some space. I'm not upset at you—I lo—" he stopped, swallowed and his eyes widened. He cleared his throat then said, "Um, I'm sorry if I came off wrong."
She looked down at her hands. "I was just worried about you."
Cord put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up. "I'm okay, baby. Don't worry about me. It's nothing."
Nothing. There was that word again. Obviously, she meant nothing to him if he couldn't even tell her what was bothering him. If he cared, he would talk to her, let her be his sounding board. His mouth was sealed shut on whatever was going on in that handsome head of his. It was obvious they weren't going to discuss things. And more than obvious, she was going to continue to be an outsider in his life.
Overwhelming sadness filtered through her. The way he reacted this morning when he couldn't find her told Hope that she couldn’t tell him she was leaving either. There would be a scene, and this family was going through enough. She'd just go back to Dallas and he'd figure it out when he saw the divorce papers. He'd probably be relieved.
"I've got some calls to make before we leave," she said, stepping back from him. She had to check in with her attorney and she wanted to see what Tina and her boss thought of the calendar layout. "Let me know when you're ready to go."
Cord studied her a moment then nodded as he turned and walked toward the bedroom to dress. He came back out a minute later and walked right out the door. No goodbye, and no kiss. Right then, Hope shut the door to her heart on him too. Hope would spend tomorrow with him and his family, soak up those memories, revel in their traditions, then she would leave with the Dixons when they took Mr. Dixon to Dallas for his treatment the day after Thanksgiving.
Cord had found his place here with his family. The ranch was well on its way to being right again, and his daddy was going to Dallas for his new treatment. None of them needed her anymore. She needed to find her own place again —in Dallas where her family was.
Where she belonged.
Hope grabbed her cell phone and went to the bedroom. She laid down on the unmade bed and hugged Cord's pillow to her face, inhaling his scent. Outdoors, a piney cologne, and him. Nothing smelled better. Tears burned her eyes again, but she sucked them up and put his pillow back on the bed to dial Tina's number.
She didn't answer, so Hope dialed her attorney. This wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation, she knew. He had just given her the inheritance check a week ago. Today, she was asking him to fax her the paperwork to divorce the temporary husband she had married to get that money.
Last night, Hope looked up the requirements for an annulment on the internet. She quickly realized that her situation with Cord didn't fit that term at all. To end their marriage, she would have to divorce him. A harsh word that was so final. An annulment sounded prettier, not as serious. It would have been just like it never happened.
But she had to divorce Cord.
The word tasted bitter in her mouth, and she could barely force it past her tight vocal chords when her attorney asked what he could do for her. He was surprised, then a little angry when she explained, but he told her he would fax the papers to her computer later that afternoon. It was done, and Hope felt sick to her stomach.
Maybe she wouldn't go with them to get the tree after all, she thought as emotions swirled in a funnel cloud inside the empty cavern of her chest. Hope curled into a ball and a hot tear tracked down her cheek. Another followed and before she knew it, the pillow case was wet and she was gasping for breath.
Hope was not a crier. She usually held herself and her emotions in check. That is how she was raised. Not this time. She hugged her arms around herself tightly and gave into the torrent of misery inside of her. After a few minutes, she was emotionally exhausted and sleep claimed her.
A little while later, a hand on her shoulder shook her awake. Hope didn't turn to face Cord because she knew he would see she had been crying. "I'm not going with you. Come get me when you are ready to decorate it." Her stuffy nose made her words nasally.
"What's wrong, Tinkerbell? Are you sick?" He sat down on the bed and put his hand on her waist. Moisture flooded to her eyes, and she rolled them to fight back the tears.
"Yeah, I don't feel well. I didn't sleep well on the couch," she lied.
Cord didn't say anything for a minute, but she could feel his hot eyes on the side of her face. She turned her face into the pillow. "I'll be better in a little while."
"Hope, what's wrong?" he asked again more forcefully, his voice full of concern.
"Nothing," she said brokenly. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."
His words to her didn't go over so well when she rebounded them back to him. His hand on her waist tightened. "I'm not leaving until you tell me."
"Please, Cord...just let me rest."
"You will tell me later," he said gruffly and pushed up to his feet. "Do you need anything before I go?"
Someone who wasn't temporary in her life to love her? Hope bit back the wail that forced itself up to her throat. "I'm fine," she whispered, trying to convince herself that she would be fine. If she ever was, it wouldn’t be for a long, long time.
Cord stood there a minute more then she heard his boot heels on the floor as he walked back out of the bedroom. Bile shot up her throat to choke her and Hope vaulted out of the bed to run to the bathroom.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Cord came back a few hours later, Hope was sitting on the couch with her knees drawn up to her chest, her head resting in her knees. Her head was pounding, and she felt like her insides were made of cement. The paperwork had arrived and she printed it out but put it in her laptop case to sign later because her hand shook so badly when she tried to sign it, she gave up.
"The tree is at the house. Daddy and Dean are shaping it up," he announced as he walked over to sit beside her on the sofa. He put his hand on her back and rubbed. "Are you feeling any better, baby?" he asked softly.
"A little," she lied and hiccupped.
"Are you sure you're up to going to the house?"
Hope sighed then lifted her face. "I want to go."
And she did. This would be her only opportunity to see how other people, real people, celebrated Christmas. Her grandma was real. She had told Hope stories about her Christmases when she was growing up. Hope wanted to experience that firsthand so she could set a new tradition for her own children one day. Something that didn't include a vacation to Tahiti.
Cord took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over her skin. "We could stay here and I could hold you until you feel better. They'll manage without me."
"No!" she said and stood up. "I'm not keeping you from your family, and I want to help decorate the tree," she said, her voice wobbly.
Cord stood and pulled her into his arms to hug her to his chest. He smoothed his hand over her hair then kissed her crown. "I want you to feel better."
Nothing short of him declaring his undying love was going to accomplish that. And that wasn't going to happen. The day after tomorrow they would be two separate people again, living two separate lives.
"I'll be fine, Cord," she said, rubbing the side of her face against his soft flannel shirt. "We'll be fine," she whispered and wrapped her arms around his waist to hug him fiercely.
His body stiffened, and he pushed her back. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," she said, not meeting his eyes.
Cord huffed out a frustrated breath then took her hand. "Mama made chili for supper, and we'll have cocoa by the fire while we decorate the tree," he said. Hope heard the excitement he was trying to hide. "Tomorrow we're gonna strap on the feed sack," he said with a laugh, rubbing his
belly. "Mama goes all out for Thanksgiving so you better not eat too much chili tonight."
Cord was trying to lighten her mood, she knew that. Determination filled her, and Hope forced a smile on her face. She was not going to ruin their party. "What does she make?" Hope asked, infusing enthusiasm into her tone. They walked across the yard while he listed off so many dishes her head was spinning by the time they stepped up on the front porch of the house. "Does she stay up all night cooking?" Hope asked with a laugh.
"She starts at about three in the morning and finishes up around one o'clock."
"I can come help her," Hope offered, although getting up that early on her last morning with Cord did not sound good to her at all. She wanted to lay in his arms as long as she could.
"Nah, she'd run you out. She has her routine down pat, and she won't let any of us into the kitchen until it's time to put the spread on the table."
Cord stopped at the door and put his hands on her shoulders. His finger tilted her chin up and he leaned down to place a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips. Hope's mummified heart softened, but she put her hands on his chest and stepped back. He looked at her curiously. "I don't want to get you sick too," she explained, the words sounding hollow.
"If I could take whatever you have so you'd feel better, I would," he told her sweetly then pulled her to him again for a hug.
Why the hell was he being so sweet to her now? He was making it damn tough to harden her heart. "You don't want what I have. Trust me," she said, reaching around him to open the front door. She walked inside before he could drop his arm over her shoulders, and went straight to the kitchen where she heard Mrs. Dixon's laughter.
The minute she walked into the kitchen and smelled the chili cooking on the stove, her stomach lurched violently. Hope clamped her hand over her mouth and ran back out of the room, down the hall to the bathroom. Cord followed quickly behind her, but she shut the door in his face and locked it. She leaned back against the door, heaving breaths to try and settle the boiling in her stomach.
Cord pounded his fist against the door and it shook. "Hope, open the damn door!" he demanded.
"Just give me a minute," she begged then covered her mouth again. What the hell was wrong with her, she wondered. She knew one thing. If she went back in that kitchen, she was going to get sick. Another knock sounded at the door, softer, gentler, then she heard Cord's mother's sweet, melodic voice. "Hope, honey. Open the door, I have some ginger ale for you. It will settle your stomach. And I'm making you some soup."
Hope groaned, and she felt even sicker realizing the trouble she was causing Mrs. Dixon. The woman was in the middle of cooking a feast for her family tomorrow and preparing decorations for the tree. And here she was preparing something special for Hope. She knocked again, and Hope pushed away from the door and flipped the lock. She opened the door, and instead of Mrs. Dixon, Cord stood there with a glass of clear, bubbly liquid in his hand. His eyes were dark and angry, his body tense.
"Cord, I just need to—"
"You need to tell me what's wrong with you, wife." Even sick, that dark tone, the power behind his words, sent a thrill rippling through her.
Hope fought it back and reached for the glass of ginger ale. "Don't take that tone with me, mister. I'm not in the mood for it." Hope lifted the glass to her lips and the cool, refreshing liquid slid down her throat to cool the heat in her stomach. She shoved the glass back at him. "You're not the boss of me." A giggle bubbled right beneath the surface of her misery.
Jeremy leaned around Cord and smiled. "He ain't the boss of me either, Miss Hope," he said with a scowl that looked a heck of a lot like his uncle's. Jeremy stepped around Cord to look her over. "He said for me to stay in the kitchen, but I wanted to make sure you were okay too."
"Thank you for worrying about me, honey, but I'm fine really. The soda helped," she said and burped loudly. Hope gasped and covered her mouth. Jeremy broke out into gales of laughter, and Cord just stood there staring at her.
She stepped out of the bathroom and took Jeremy's hand in hers. "Let's eat so we can decorate the Christmas tree," she said then glanced at Cord. "We want to give Santa plenty of notice that this house expects presents this year."
Jeremy squealed. "Yes, ma'am!" He tugged on her arm to pull her down the hall. Hope stumbled to keep up with him. "I wonder what Santa will want for a snack this year?"
Hope glanced over her shoulder at Cord, who was hovering behind them as they walked. "After Santa eats tomorrow, he might need to use the front door instead of the chimney. I'd leave him some fruit by the front door," she suggested and heard Cord's growl.
"Maw Maw always keeps bananas, so I'll put two out on Christmas Eve," Jeremy said seriously.
"Santa likes cookies," Cord grumbled as they walked through the living room toward the kitchen.
"After tomorrow, Mrs. Claus is putting Santa on a diet. He has to keep in shape to do all that traveling and for the long hours he works at the mall taking photos with the kids. He has to be able to keep up with his elves too," Hope teased with the laughter now rumbling in her chest.
"After tomorrow, Santa might have to spank Mrs. Claus for being so mean to him."
"Santa will have to catch Mrs. Claus first," Hope volleyed back as they reached the kitchen. Cord walked up behind her and pulled her back into his chest. Jeremy released her hand and walked to the kitchen table where there was a bowl of chili waiting for him.
Cord wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned close to her ear. "Santa has no problem keeping up with his elves or Mrs. Claus. He knows exactly where to find her. You're already on his list. Don't push your luck, Tinkerbell."
The deep, sensual threat in Cord's voice made her blood feel like it pushed soda bubbles through her veins. He swatted her butt lightly and she trembled. Cord squeezed her waist and dropped a kiss by her ear, but he didn't let her go. Stepping to her side, he kept his arm around her to lead her to the table.
The chili smell had dissipated in the room even though Dean, Mr. Dixon and Jeremy were sitting at the table digging in. A bowl of soup sat at her place, and Hope sat down there when Cord pulled out her chair.
After dinner, Mrs. Dixon shooed them out of the kitchen and told them to get to work decorating the tree. She promised cocoa and cookies as a reward when they were done. In the living room, she had boxes lined up around the biggest pine tree Hope had ever seen. The ranch house had twelve foot ceilings and the top of the tree was just shy of that mark. Hope walked closer, and the rich smell of fir wrapped around her like a warm blanket. That is what Christmas was supposed to smell like. Not pine-scented spray on an artificial tree. She inhaled deeply as excitement shot through her.
Hope walked to one of the boxes and flipped open the flaps. Inside were carefully cushioned mismatched green, red, and blue ornaments in all shapes and sizes. Happiness filled her as she lifted one that looked like a spaceship.
These weren't perfectly formed matching crystal and silver decorations. They weren't expected to be perfect. These ornaments were scratched, a little dusty, but well loved. They had flaws, but were accepted. Just like members of a family should be. Tears burned behind her eyes as the dichotomy between this family and her own came into sharp focus. She was going to miss the Dixons. Miss being a part of a normal family.
Without question or judgment, she had been accepted into their fold. They invited her into their nest, and there was no doubt that if she stayed, she would be well loved here. At least by the extended family. Cord was another story. He might like the comfort of her being around, but he didn't treasure her like these ornaments.
Because their marriage was a sham. A means to an end that had already come to pass. This family was whole again, and it was time for her to leave. End their deal. Hope felt sick again, but sucked in a breath to calm herself. She was not going to ruin this moment or give herself an ulcer over it.
Jeremy nudged her leg, and she stepped aside for him to rifle through the box. He pulled out what must've b
een his favorite Scooby-Doo ornament. It looked very old, like it had been in the family for many years. Jeremy clipped on a hanger, and proudly hung it on the front branch of the tree. He went back to the box, and Hope watched Mrs. Dixon discreetly move it to the back of the tree. Hope smiled.
After a flurry of activity and a lot of laughter, Cord hung the last ornament on the uppermost branch then turned to them with a broad smile. Her heart fluttered in her chest. At that moment he looked as young as Jeremy, and love for him almost overwhelmed her. She turned away and picked up the now empty box and walked toward the kitchen with it. It was as empty as she felt inside. Hope deposited the box on the porch outside the door.
Sucking in a deep breath of the crisp night air, Hope wrapped her arms around herself and rethought her decision to leave. Maybe she could stay until Christmas. It was only a month away. That would probably be a better plan. She could keep the ranch house in shape while Mrs. Dixon was in Dallas. Help Dean take care of Jeremy. But it would also make leaving harder. And she was just delaying the inevitable.
Warm arms closed around her waist, and Cord's deep voice rumbled in her ear. "What's on your mind, Tinkerbell? You're worrying me."
"Nothing. I'm just thinking."
His muscles tensed. "I got the check for my investments," he said. "That's why I was upset last night. It's a lot less than I expected. It will be a while before I can finish paying you back."
She turned in his arms and put her hands on his chest. "I don't need you to pay me back at all, Cord."
"I want to pay you back. That was our deal."
And so was an annulment. Hope could almost hear the crack in her heart as she realized Cord really hadn't forgotten their deal. That he still expected them to follow through on it. That he didn't love her.
She pushed against his chest, but his arms held tight. "Then just give me what you have and pay the rest back when you get it." Her voice came out as flat as she felt inside.
