No, Perri thought firmly. She dismissed the idea that reluctantly formed as impossible. It’s too early to really know.
She would get herself home and into bed just as soon as she stopped shaking long enough to drive the car. What were the early warning signs anyway? Oh, Lord, she would have to call some girlfriends in New York for that.
She was grateful they were now sleeping in separate bedrooms, and had been for almost a month. Matt had gotten too close on their wedding night. Too close to her. Loving him as she did, Perri had requested a period of adjustment.
She had needed time to sort things out. She had given him so much of herself once before; and had been so violently rent apart. It had become easier to forgive herself for surrendering so totally to him at seventeen. She was older, wiser, more mature; and still she couldn’t have stopped him if she’d tried.
But still, her wariness and embarrassment over how he could control her sexually, and his shameless use of that advantage, had formed an apex where the different paths of her anguish came together. She was stupid with him, she acknowledged to herself bitterly as she rested her clammy forehead on the steering wheeL In a stupor every time he touched her. Being pulled to him only to be pushed away was undignified, even if he was struggling himself.
Now she had even more on her shoulders. Maybe with separate bedrooms and baths, she could keep him from finding out every time she felt sick like this. When she felt better, she vowed to drive to a drugstore for a home test. Maybe drive to the next county for it. She had to think this through before Matt’s feelings about this little life just beginning inside her colored her own joy. At least I’ll have his child, she thought, no matter what happens.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she signaled before she pulled back out onto Route 66.
Four
Lightning woke him before the thunder could For a moment he lay in the darkness of the second-story bedroom, taking in the music and feel of a storm over Gledhill. Matt felt surrounded by weather, rather than burrowed down into Ransom land.
It was an interesting sensation on the hill, he noted. To feel suspended rather than grounded. As was his custom, he counted off the time between lightning and thunder. It would be right on top of them within minutes. A good night to learn how the old house took to a storm
Well, it would do. The house had courage, he determined. Courage out in the open, Matt thought, as he toured the ground floor. Just like Gannie. She was with him as he moved out onto the glass-enclosed back porch to watch the show.
The lightning strikes were moving rapidly overheard. I’ll bet it’s over 200 per second, he reflected, consulting his internal clock. How Gannie must have loved to watch the night from here. He loved it as well. Unlike Perri, wild weather made him feel alive. Always had.
Perri. Without thinking about it, Matt turned and headed for the stairs. She had always been fearful of the noise, the potential for violence Once before, she had trembled and clung to him; first out of fear, and then out of desire, as thunder and lightning had pierced the tranquillity of Gledhill.
Matt moved swiftly to her door, and stood watching her sleep. Good, he thought with relief, she needs it. Perri had been driving herself with such intensity for the last month, she was worn down to where you could almost see the steel.
He moved quietly into the room. She looked peaceful now. And so beautiful he ached just to hold her. My wife, he thought as he sat beside her on the bed. It meant something so different from what he had always assumed it would.
She slept on through the thunder and Matt breathed easier for it. If the woman could sleep through this, she was stronger, more centered and more secure than the girl she had been. He smiled as he gently touched a lock of her hair. Her scent reached him, bringing him comfort. It eased the ever-present desire he felt for the woman sleeping alone.
She was probably going to have a fit when she learned of his plans, he figured, playing with the curls. But maybe he had been right to rapidly institute as many changes as possible. Maybe if he could put the past aside, initiate an assault on it, somehow he could forgive and forget.
And then maybe he could let go. Let go of the burden of knowing he had caused Perri to leave town. Of knowing that his breaking up with her and so quickly getting engaged to Cadie had driven Perri to have an abortion in Raleigh. Ever since his mother had told him that Perri had called from Raleigh with the news, there had been no going back. It still hurt that Perri hadn’t even asked to speak with him at the time. His baby. Matt didn’t dwell on how he had felt about that, not anymore. Not after Cadie’s misfortune. It was past.
Every day now he debated whether or not to give back the locket Perri had returned when she’d left town. Would it help heal wounds or rub them too raw for them to talk things through? he wondered. She should know that he considered himself the one responsible. She should know he understood what she must have gone through at seventeen. Alone.
Action never won out in these internal debates, Matt realized as he started for the hall. He didn’t know how to talk things out. It didn’t come naturally. It just hadn’t been done and he didn’t have a lot of hope in his skills.
Matt turned in the darkness, for better or worse alone in the storm. He watched his new wife sleep peacefully as lightning continued to strike without any regard for the inhabitants on the hill.
Perri and Donnie silently took in the chaos which, at the moment, centered around Matt and John in Gannie’s former bedroom. “How many 800 numbers did you call?” Perri inquired dryly.
“A few,” Matt responded as he tightened a bolt on the biggest, shiniest brass bed he had been able to find.
Matt and John, both shirtless in the air-conditioning, had gotten the room down to ground zero and beyond. Brand-new bookshelves and new chests of drawers were already in place.
Perri decided it was a fortunate thing that the master bedroom was so big. That bed was ridiculous. It was embarrassing. And she couldn’t help but notice that the man had positioned it to take advantage of the full-length mirror. She could just imagine why. “You’re going to need to wear sunglasses to get any sleep,” Perri said sweetly.
Matt’s look let her know the plan here didn’t include getting a lot of sleep. “From what I can tell,” he answered just as sweetly, “you can sleep through just about anything.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t wake me!” Three hundred lightning strikes-per-second over Spirit, and he had let her sleep through it. “I’m horrified, not to mention feeling cheated,” Perri added.
“Well, it didn’t seem like that much at the time,” Donnie said to no one in particular, “especially since we never got any rain.”
“Well, of course it didn’t seem like much at the time,” John chimed in. “The state got over 20,000 strike within a six-hour period. What’s a few hundred-per-second over this place?”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Ransom, I’ll make absolutely certain you’re awake next time around,” Matt said with a lazy grin, “even if it is three a.m.” He sighed nobly. “I’ll find some way to keep you awake.”
Perri couldn’t help the blush. Her breathing shortened and her body began to tingle at his look. She’d seen this coming. He’d been sensitive and respectful of her need to remain apart for the last month and to take things slowly. But he had been as nice and as understanding as he was going to get. Patience had never been Matt Ransom’s strong suit. And who was she kidding? She wanted him.
She would be sharing this room with him before they were many days older. The look he was giving her made that clear. It blazed as much as the summer heat pulsing on the other side of the window. And he was not unaware of how her body felt about it, either.
Matt continued to grin at her, enjoying the flush of color on her face. He couldn’t wait to see Perri in the middle of his bed. Messy, rumpled and well-loved. He’d wanted a new bed for them, one he’d never slept in with anyone else. One that was theirs; one with no history.
There’s
too damn much of the past in this house, he thought sternly. He was hell-bent on getting Perri out of the past when she looked at her surroundings. When she looked at him. When he looked at her.
“Why don’t you two go down and figure out what to do with the dining room,” John suggested. “We cleared a wall. The photographs of the pioneer women, and the tapes and transcripts of the 89ers are stored down there along with the computer equipment. Decide where you want what.”
“The past with the present,” Donnie stated, grinning at him. “Gannie would have liked that.”
“What?” he demanded. Whenever LaDonna Marlowe grinned like that, John automatically got suspicious.
“You,” she answered. “Out of your suit Somehow you always look more real to me in a pair of old jeans. Not that you don’t wear those fancy suits well,” Donnie added quickly. “I was thinking about that at the funeral. Gannie sure arranged some fine-looking pallbearers for herself,” she remarked as she strolled toward the hall.
John shook his head in mock sorrow. “I thought they raised you better than that,” he said.
“They raised her well enough to see about feeding you,” Perri laughed. “We’ll holler when it’s ready.”
On the descent down the stairs, Perri couldn’t help but notice how different this place was from Matt’s home. During the reception, she had shamelessly inspected the Ransom place. The old house had given her the impression that it could be cleaned and straightened in record time. The furnishings were masculine and simple. There was nothing fussy. Nothing that communicated any reminders of a genteel heritage left back in the East. Everything seemed to point to a family born right here. Born for Oklahoma, and intending to stay.
The western style, built from the ground up for the comfort of large men who favored saddle leather and wood, suited both the Ransoms and the family business. The house was such a contrast to Gledhill. It was so flat. Hidden from the road, the big, sprawling one-story structure literally nestled down among the elms and hugged the earth. She had wondered how many generations had added onto the original building.
Oddly enough, it was also a home shorn of all feminine touches. While it seemed a little out of balance, it also seemed right. It brought relief, as if a certain amount of strain or effort had been deleted from the atmosphere. Perri had found herself grateful not to be staring at some terribly grand portrait of Leila hanging on a wall in a place of honor, or one of Matt’s Grandma Ransom.
Up on the hill, Gledhill had been built by a Yankee, determined to assert his position in the community. With its cathedral ceiling over most of the house, it looked poised as if to one day take to the air. The fact that it never had was a testament to how well built it had been. It wasn’t the best type of dwelling for Tornado Alley; anyone could see that. But it did make a statement.
The Ransom place, however, had been built for Miss Vienna by plainsmen. It fit perfectly with the land. Everything Perri had heard about the place had come flooding back. Miss Vienna Whitaker had bought the homestead of a farmer who couldn’t maintain his claim after a vicious winter. It was a common enough story for the time.
Although in this instance, the story was spiced with rumors that Miss Vienna had used what was to have been her dowry to pay for the place. She had, forthwith, set about replacing the sod dwelling with a genuine house.
Perri had been immediately drawn to inspect the original, handmade shutters as soon as she’d entered for the reception. She and Donnie had always heard about those shutters. Each had a series of rifle slots in the thick wood that opened and closed as necessary. The Ransoms were bunkered down in defense of more than Mother Nature’s supernatural winds.
At Sam’s insistence, Matt had given her a brief tour of the stables. The sight of the colts with the mares was the instant when Perri gave her heart to big, soft eyes, long eyelashes and to muzzles that felt like velvet.
A little sorrel colt was losing his baby coat. Perri had always wondered at the difference in a sorrel and a roan. Now she could see it. He would be all roan soon. She had never thought about colts doing that—losing their baby hair. It was so sweet. Everywhere she’d looked, she had fallen in love. In love with Matt Ransom’s world.
Perri now realized that just as the Ransom place was bereft of any feminine touches, Gledhill was without any masculine presence—except for what Perri had captured in the memory box a lifetime ago. Fancy work everywhere you look, she thought.
She followed as Donnie pushed her way through the kitchen’s swinging doors. The kitchen was indisputably the heart of the old house.
“I don’t suppose we could just set out some fruit and cottage cheese,” Donnie remarked.
“If you set the table, I’ll see about some chicken and salad,” Perri answered, moving to the refrigerator. They worked quickly, with the ease of women in a familiar kitchen.
She got the chicken to warming and looked around. The kitchen, the breakfast nook and the back porch were the only downstairs rooms that didn’t resemble a museum. The longer she contemplated her surroundings, the stronger her conviction became that using the land Gannie had donated to Spirit as the site for yet another museum was not the answer.
Suddenly, the smell of chicken assaulted her senses and Perri bustled out into the dining room for some much-needed air. Donnie quickly followed.
“Have you told him?” Donnie asked quietly, placing a cold, damp towel to Perri’s throat.
“No,” she replied weakly. “Is it obvious?”
“Well, if I just figured it out—”
“Donnie, I can’t,” Perri said. “Not yet. I don’t know how.” Nausea kept throwing her off her stride these days. Lately, she had been so tightly wound she could almost twitch.
Donnie put her arms around her cousin. “I’m so sorry, hon,” she said. “Sorry for the situation, not sorry for a baby. But to see you like this just breaks my heart.”
Perri hugged her back. “I didn’t think anything else would ever hurt me as deeply again. Leila hurt. Leaving hurt. Finding out Matt was getting married six weeks after I left town, to some girl from Sapulpa, hurt even worse,” she said, pressing the towel to her forehead. “His wife pregnant, so soon after their marriage, just about killed me. Things happened too fast. Now they’re happening too fast again. I can’t take another hurt, Donnie. I don’t think I have it in me.”
“Have you ever said anything to Matt about Leila threatening you into leaving?” Donnie asked. She leaned against the bachelor’s table. “Did you say anything that night?”
“No. And we haven’t talked about it since that night. I just don’t know how to say it,” Perri replied sadly. “We haven’t spoken about what happened since I was seventeen years old. And I was in such shock at seeing my whole world crumble, I couldn’t think straight enough to say anything in my own defense. But it’s not going to help much to bring it up now if the timing isn’t right.”
“Talk to him, Per,” Donnie urged. “Tell Matt what happened. All of it. He has a right to know.”
“Why would he want to hear about the past?” Perri asked wearily. “He’s been hammering on me to let it go as it is. Why would he even listen to anything I’d say about his mother? But of course, I’ll tell him about the baby. Directly.”
“It’s time,” Donnie replied firmly. “Now that there’s a child to consider. Now is the time for you to stop running from it, now that Leila is dead. You would never have survived as her daughter-in-law, under her roof,” she added. “You may not realize it even now, but when you left for Raleigh, you were running for your life.”
“But this is so humiliating,” Perri blurted out “To have a man forced, first into marrying me and now into fatherhood. He’s been forced into a superficial relationship in order to inherit something that should be his unconditionally.”
She turned and stared at the wall against which Gannie’s tapes and transcripts of the Land Run were now being stored. As a distraction, it was a beaut. Perri and Donnie had a lot of work to do
; for a lot of work had gone into the project. Gannie had started right out of college collecting the individual histories of the 89ers who had still been alive at the time. Propped against the wall alongside the tapes and transcripts were a series of photographs of sculptures of pioneer women. Gannie had set great store in her photographs of the final entries from which the Pioneer Woman Monument at Ponca City had been chosen.
If the kitchen was the heart of the old house, the photographs of the Pioneer Women sculptures were its soul Now heart and soul resided side by side.
Gannie had said those photographs reminded her never to quit. To continue to search for the stories of women who had played out their lives in an effort to build a home and a life on the red earth. Women who, in many instances, bad had no vote and no voice in the decision to come West. Women who, often as not, were buried alongside the rivers and creeks in nameless graves.
The sculptures had always fascinated Perri and Donnie. Some were obviously too sensuous to have been chosen for the monument at Ponca; some too rigid or unfeeling.
“My favorite is going right here.” Donnie pointed to a prominent spot, dead center. “I’ll go get the hammer.”
Perri smiled after her. Donnie’s favorite entry was a striking sculpture of a Native American woman, bareheaded and nursing a baby, while striding forward with a rifle strapped to her back.
“Then mine is going right beside her,” Perri replied softly as she held up a photograph to the wall. She had always been drawn to the sculpture depicting a slender young woman in a stovepipe bonnet that cut off most of her vision. The woman held a baby at her hip while taking the rifle from her husband, who lay dying at her feet.
Looking at the photographs instilled a feeling of heart and courage. “We’ll make the wall of the Pioneer Women our own now.” She paused for a moment to take a deep breath and to contain the tears. “And by this time tomorrow, Matt Ransom will know he’s going to be a father,” Perri vowed, daring to look to the future.
The Bridal Promise Page 8
