Wanted: Wife

by Stella Bagwell

  “Snakes and alligators,” she finished for him.

  Surprised, he glanced at her. “You remembered.”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  The two of them lapsed into silence until Lucas turned off the road and headed down a long driveway. When he pulled the car to a stop in front of a huge old house, Jenny sat up in her seat and peered through the windshield.

  “Is this where we’re going? What is this place?”

  “It’s mine.” He killed the motor and reached for Jenny’s hand. “Come on. I want you to see the inside.”

  Next to the long porch, a massive sycamore and several elms stood like sentinels with bared arms. As the two of them walked up the wooden steps, Jenny imagined the place with the trees fully leafed and shading the old house. The porch would be cool and peaceful, a place to share a glass of lemonade or rock a baby.

  “It’ll be warmer inside,” Lucas told her as he unlocked the door. “I keep it heated enough to prevent the pipes from freezing.”

  He stepped into the house and Jenny followed, careful to stay behind him until he’d flipped a switch and light flooded the room.

  Jenny looked curiously around her. The room appeared to have once been a parlor. Several windows lined the east wall looking over the porch, while three more made up the south wall. In one corner was a stack of plasterboard. A small distance away stood two wooden sawhorses, a power saw and a large bucket filled with an assortment of carpentry tools.

  “You can see I’m in the process of renovating this old thing.” He took her by the elbow and guided her toward a doorway to their right.

  “How long have you been working on it?” Jenny asked as he flipped another light switch.

  “About three months. I know it would go faster if I hired more men on the job. But a buddy of mine who needs the extra cash has been helping me work on it at nights.”

  The two of them moved into a room that Jenny supposed would someday be the dining room. The wallpaper had been stripped and several boards were missing from the floor.

  “You’re doing part of the carpentry work?”

  Laughing at the shocked note in her voice, he said, “I’m pretty good with my hands when I want to be. And working on this old house is a labor of love.”

  Yes, Jenny could see that as she watched Lucas rub his fingers along a new window facing. There was a look of pride and something akin to excitement on his face.

  “I’m going to build a window seat along here. How do you think it would look?”

  Jenny walked over to where he stood by the large bay window. “I’m afraid I’ve never lived in a house with a window seat.” She laughed wryly. “Actually, I’ve never lived in a house before. So I’m not really the right person to ask.”

  Lucas felt an odd pain lance through his chest. How could it be that this woman had never lived in a house?

  “Come here and look.” With the sleeve of his jacket, he wiped a clean circle on the fogged windowpane. “It’s pretty dark out tonight, but maybe you can see a little.”

  She walked to where he stood, then bringing her nose against the window, she cupped her hands around her eyes and peered into the darkness. “It looks like an old flower garden out there. I can see a birdbath and a rock border of some sort.”

  “I don’t have much of a green thumb, but I think I can get something hearty going like marigolds and hollyhocks. Now can you imagine sitting on a window seat sipping your morning coffee and looking out at the birds and flowers?”

  Jenny could imagine it all too well. It was just the sort of home she’d always wanted but knew she would never have.

  “Sounds lovely,” she murmured, then in an effort to shake her sudden melancholy, she turned and smiled at him. “But I didn’t realize you were into things like birds and flowers.”

  Laughing, Lucas guided her away from the window. “Just because I once toted an M-16 and drove an eighteen-wheeler cross-country doesn’t mean I don’t know a meadowlark or a marigold when I see one. Even macho men like myself can enjoy nature.”

  “I see,” she said, a smile in her voice. “Well, I must admit I know very little about birds or flowers.”

  They entered a short, wide hallway. Lucas took her hand and led her up a steep staircase.

  As they climbed to the second floor, Lucas said, “I find that hard to believe, Jenny. You look like a woman who appreciates nature.”

  “I do. But you see, I grew up in southwest Texas. There wasn’t much more than sagebrush and grama grass where I lived. Water was a scarce commodity, so we didn’t use it to grow flowers or a Bermuda lawn. Besides, Ruby wouldn’t have grown flowers or grass if she’d had buckets of water.”

  “Ruby?”

  “My mother.”

  The flat tone of her voice told Lucas Ruby wasn’t a topic Jenny wanted to discuss at the moment, so he decided not to ask her more. Instead, he hoped she would eventually want to talk to him about her personal life.

  They reached the landing and Jenny could see where Lucas and his friend had been replacing floorboards.

  “I plan to make all the bedrooms up here,” he said, his face just inches behind her. “There’re four of them so maybe that will be enough.”

  Enough? What was he doing, planning to turn the place into a country bed-and-breakfast?

  “Lucas, do you plan to live here or what?” she asked, as they entered one of the bedrooms.

  “Of course. What did you think I was going to do with it?”

  Jenny shrugged as she looked around the room. Most of the work had already been completed. “I thought you might be going to make a country inn or a rental house.”

  “Oh, no. I searched long and hard for a place like this. I’m looking forward to living here.”

  She rubbed her hand against the cabbage rose wallpaper. “This is beautiful,” she said, unaware of the wistful note in her voice.

  Lucas moved across the room to stand a small step away from her. In spite of the cold night, she looked like a warm flame with her auburn hair and red coat. More than anything, Lucas wanted to pull her into his arms and feel the heat of her body, the scorch of her kiss.

  The erotic thoughts put a husky rasp to his voice when he spoke. “I’m glad you like it. Women tend to place importance on the bedroom. I tried to keep that in mind when I chose the wallpaper.”

  Her brows arching with speculation, she lifted her eyes to his face. “Then you don’t plan on living here alone?”

  His dark eyes delving into hers, he said, “I hope not, Jenny. It’s a big house for just one person. Someday I want to have a wife and children to fill these rooms.”

  Something inside Jenny’s heart cracked and pain crept inside. She and Lucas were very nearly the same age. He was planning his future, dreaming of marrying and having children, while Jenny had put all that behind her. She was going to do five, perhaps ten more years of police work and then retire. After that, she planned to take enough schooling to become a counselor for battered women. She believed it was an admirable future and nothing to be ashamed of. But compared to Lucas’s plans it seemed lacking.

  While she was settling down to live the rest of her life alone, he was going to be having children, building a home. It didn’t seem right. What had she done wrong to make her life be nearly over at the age of thirty-four? And why did it kill her to think of Lucas bringing some other woman to this beautiful house? Why did it claw at her insides to think of him having children with someone other than herself? Nothing made sense to her anymore.

  “So you want a wife,” she said finally.

  “You sound surprised.”

  She let out a long breath. “You don’t seem the marrying type.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “I don’t?”

  Up until now Jenny hadn’t noticed how quiet and isolated they were. The only sounds to be heard were the wind outside, the creak of a giving board and their mingled breaths. Hers fast and shallow. His slow and deep.

  Without warning, Je
nny’s heart began to pound. “If you were a marrying man, you would have found a wife a long time ago.”

  Lucas couldn’t help himself. He reached out and touched a red curl lying against her shoulder. It was silky, and as beautiful as the curve of her lips, the deep green of her eyes. She made him drunk and she didn’t even know it, he thought.

  “I’m a choosy man, Jenny. When I say the words I do, it’s going to be with the right woman. And it’s going to be forever. So far I haven’t found such a woman.”

  Jenny told herself to step away from him, to turn their conversation to something impersonal. But she couldn’t make herself move. No more than she could make herself stop wanting to know more about him, to know what went on inside his head and his heart.

  “Maybe you’re expecting too much,” she told him.

  “At times I’ve wondered that myself,” he said. “I know there’s no such thing as a perfect woman. But I don’t really want a perfect woman. I just want her to be perfect for me.”

  He moved a step closer, and Jenny involuntarily moved back until her shoulder blades were pressing against the rose-covered wall.

  “And what kind of woman would that be?” Jenny asked huskily.

  Leaning forward, he planted a hand on either side of her head. Jenny stood stock-still and tried not to panic at the strong, male arms circling her. He wasn’t touching her. He wasn’t hurting her. He was simply close to her, she reminded herself. She could deal with that.

  “What kind of a woman?” he repeated. “Well, I’m looking for a strong woman. Someone who won’t crumble if the going gets rough. I want her to be able to stand up and tell me to go to hell if I’m wrong, or kiss me and tell me I’m wonderful if I’m right. And I want her to love and need children the same way I do.”

  Jenny didn’t say anything, and after a moment Lucas said, “You think I’m asking too much, don’t you. But I have my reasons, Jenny. You see, I grew up without a mother. And I don’t want that to happen to my children.”

  Suddenly what he was saying outweighed the fear of his nearness. Jenny’s eyes swiftly came up to study his face. All along, she figured Lucas had been born into one of those perfect homes where mother and father and child lived in happy harmony. Obviously she’d figured wrong.

  “You didn’t have a mother?”

  A grimace twisted Lucas’s features. “I did for the first two years of my life. Then my parents got divorced.”

  Thrusting a hand through his hair, he moved away from her and’walked to a window. Jenny quietly watched him, and for the first time she was thinking of him not as a rich businessman but simply as a man with needs and emotions.

  “My mother was several years younger than my dad,” he went on after a moment. “The age difference apparently created a lot of problems between them. In the end, he considered her too young and unstable to care for a child. So he fought for custody and won.”

  Pushing herself away from the wall, Jenny went to him. “If he gave you a stable home, you should be glad.”

  “I am glad. God knows where I’d be today if Dad hadn’t insisted on raising me.”

  “So where is your mother now? Do you ever see her?”

  His expression stoic, he shook his head. “She’s dead, Jenny. She died shortly after I went to live with my dad.”

  Jenny was so surprised she gasped. “Oh, Lucas. What happened?”

  “From what my dad and others have told me, she liked to party with her younger friends. After she lost me, everyone said she went even wilder. She blamed my dad for losing her baby, and she tried to forget by drinking. One night she and a few of her friends were partying at a nearby lake. Drunk and nerveless, she climbed a bluff of rocks and dove off. She never hit the water. Instead, she landed on the rocks and died instantly of a broken neck.”

  Jenny shuddered at the horrible image. “How awful, Lucas.”

  He shrugged. “I suppose it’s like you told me about not having a father. You can’t miss what you never had.”

  Yes, it was true Jenny had always told herself she didn’t really miss having a father all these years. He’d been a shiftless no-account. She was better off without him. Obviously Lucas had been telling himself the same thing about his mother. But Jenny knew, as she figured Lucas also knew, that what they’d both missed in their lives was too immeasurable to be imagined.

  “Do you blame her for dying and leaving you?” Jenny asked.

  Lucas shook his head. “No. I blame her for being too weak, for not being brave enough to face life.”

  Not everyone could be brave about all things, she wanted to tell him. Including her. She could face a robber with a loaded handgun and keep her wits calm and collected. But to think of marrying again made her pop out in a cold, shaky sweat.

  When she didn’t say anything, Lucas took her by the shoulder and urged her toward the door. “Let’s take a quick look at the rooms left up here and then we’ll go down to the kitchen.”

  A few minutes later, Jenny was surprised to see that the renovation of the kitchen was nearly completed. Sparkling white cabinets with glass fronts lined one entire wall.

  The floor had been tiled in black and white squares, and a huge work island with a butcher-block top was situated a handy step away from the range.

  Jenny sat on a stool by the work island while Lucas made coffee.

  “I know I promised to get you home early,” he said. “But there’s still one more thing I’d like to show you before we leave. And since it’s outside, I figured we could use a warm-up before braving the cold.”

  This morning Jenny would have laughed if anyone had told her she’d be having dinner with Lucas tonight. And even two hours ago, she would have insisted on going straight home from the restaurant and giving him a polite goodbye. But things had changed between this morning and now. She was beginning to get a glimpse of the man inside, and what she’d seen so far had drawn her to him.

  “Lucas?”

  He turned away from the coffee machine. “Yes?”

  Jenny opened her mouth, then just as quickly shook her head. “Forget it,” she said.

  What in the world was she doing? Just because Lucas had talked to her about his family didn’t mean she should open up about hers. But he knew what it was like to grow up in a less than perfect home. She had a feeling she could tell him about Ruby and he wouldn’t look at her as if she was a piece of shunned garbage.

  “Are you getting cold?” he asked quickly. “I’ll turn up the heater.”

  He went to a portable heater and turned the switch to a higher level. When he returned to take a stool beside her, he asked, “How’s that?”

  “It’s fine.” She felt like a fool, and dropped her eyes from his face. After a moment she began to draw imaginary circles on the butcher block. “You know when you asked me earlier about visiting relatives?”

  Lucas nodded.

  She let out a heavy sigh. “Well, I should have told you then that I don’t have any relatives to speak of.”

  Lucas’s gaze traveled slowly over her face. There was a sad look of regret in her eyes, a hopeless droop to the corners of her lips. “You have your mother, don’t you?”

  A caustic laugh burst from Jenny before she could stop it. “Ruby? She might have given birth to me, but that’s where her mothering stopped. A neighboring couple did more toward raising me than she ever did.”

  Lucas didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t had a father, and now he was hearing that her mother wasn’t anything close to being a parent. “That must have been tough on you.”

  Shrugging, Jenny looked at his face. “Well, hanging around the Benitez house was far better than going down to the tavern with Ruby.” Wrinkling her nose, Jenny shuddered. “I can still smell the stale beer and cigarette smoke and hear the crack of pool balls. When I was small she made me sit on the floor behind the bar and play with my dolls while she worked. Later, she put me to work washing glasses. Until I began to develop curves. Then she sent me home to stay by myse
lf. Ruby never liked competition,” she said, then closing her eyes, she rubbed her fingers across her forehead. “Damn it, I sound like a bitter, jealous daughter.”

  “No, you don’t. Not to me,” he said gently.

  She kept her eyes closed, and Lucas went to the counter and poured two mugs full of coffee. When he placed hers on the work island next to her, Jenny looked up and thanked him.

  “So you didn’t move around while you were growing up?” Lucas asked as he settled himself on the stool beside her.

  Jenny laughed wryly. “Are you kidding? Ruby’s still working in the same little tavern. I guess she always will be.” She took a careful sip of the hot coffee, then glanced at Lucas. “That’s where she met my father, you know. At that dingy little dive outside of Fort Stockton. I don’t know how he happened to be in the area. He wasn’t a local. Ruby never got around to that part of the story. She always focused more on his running out on her.”

  “Have you ever seen or heard from him?”

  Jenny shook her head. “No. I doubt he realizes I exist.”

  “Do you wish he did?”

  “No.”

  Lucas didn’t say anything to that. But he could only wonder if her father, or lack of one, was the reason she was so against men in general. Maybe she didn’t want to marry because she was afraid her husband would take a walk like her father had all those years ago. Or maybe she’d already been married to a man who walked out on her?

  What difference did it make? She was just a date, a beautiful distraction, he tried to tell himself. Tomorrow none of this would matter to him.

  But for tonight, he had to know.

  “Jenny, have you ever been married?”

  Chapter Six

  Like a sudden blast of icy wind, the question froze Jenny, and for a moment all she could manage to do was look at him while her insides shivered.

  “Why?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Just curious. You asked me, so I’m asking you.”

  Jenny had wanted to tell Lucas about Ruby and the kind of mother she’d been, but the last thing she wanted to do was to admit to him that she’d been married to an abusive man. He might understand about her mother, but he wouldn’t understand about Marcus. He might even blame her for being a bad wife. And Jenny couldn’t bear that. She’d lived through enough pain and humiliation, and did not want to endure more from this man.