A Christmas Baby Surprise: Reclaimed by the Rancher
Page 14
Forever.
His forehead fell to rest on her shoulder and he inhaled the sweet sultry scent of her mixed with an air of their perspiration mingling. The perfume of them together.
Wrapping his arms around her, he tucked her to him and slid onto his side. Her cheek pressed against his chest and she trailed her fingers along his stomach. The ceiling fan spun lazy circles overhead, cooling the air around them.
Reminding him the outside world and concerns couldn’t be kept at bay forever. At any moment, she could remember. His time was running out. And even if it wasn’t, he owed her the best he had to offer in all aspects of their life together.
“Porter, you never answered my question.”
He searched his passion-fogged brain for exactly what she meant. “Which question?”
She raised up on one elbow to look into his eyes. “Did we love each other before I lost my memory?”
He weighed his answer carefully, because yes, he had loved her, so very much. But their past hadn’t been as simple as that, and he owed her a more honest future. And he would give it to her.
Still, he needed to be careful not to put too much stress on her, especially so early in her recovery. The nightmares made it clear how her feelings were in turmoil. She was a strong woman, but she’d been through so much. So he would tread warily, step back, figure out and plan the best way and time to tell her.
For now, he had a question to answer. Did they love each other before she’d lost her memory?
He couldn’t be sure how she felt at the end, but he’d loved her. Did he still?
God help him, could he love a woman who didn’t even remember the first time they met? A woman who didn’t know him well enough to love him and might never love him again?
* * *
Alaina’s frustration level was through the roof. Porter had become distant, and was spending more and more time in his study.
Where was the tender lover? The attentive father?
Between the nightmares and being rejected by Porter, her brain was spinning.
Her life had been frustrating every day since she’d woken from the coma with five years of her life missing, but Porter had counseled her to be patient, all the while romancing her to restore their marriage.
And when she needed romance he shut her out.
Now it was only two days away from Christmas and she couldn’t recall ever feeling less in the holiday spirit. How unfair to Thomas. This was his first Christmas. He deserved a house full of love and happiness.
Knotting the belt on her bathrobe, she walked down the quiet hall toward the nursery, the scent of pine from the tree filling the whole giant house. She needed to be near her son and soak up his sweet innocence. To find the peace of rocking him in her arms. And maybe she needed to cry.
Silently nudging the door open, she tiptoed into the room. Her son still slept, his chest rising and falling evenly as he sucked on his tiny fist. Needing the comfort of being close to him, she turned to settle into the rocker.
And stopped short.
Courtney slept on the daybed, a baby bottle of water and powdered formula on the end table. Her arm draped over the side. Why hadn’t she noticed before now how much Porter looked like his mother?
Perhaps Alaina made a noise because her mother-in-law startled awake, yawning. “Oh, wow, I must have fallen asleep. I vow that night nanny has the best job ever.”
Alaina laughed softly, chocking back the tears in her throat. “We all love Thomas, and I have to confess I appreciate the help.” She mixed the bottle and shook the contents. Thomas would be awake at any moment and he would be hungry. “This has been an, um, unusual foray into motherhood.”
“You would have done fine on your own. But I’m glad to be here. I thought, well, I wasn’t sure how things would be between you and Porter. So I’m here.” She stretched, her silk shirt untucked from her skirt. She reached down to retrieve her Jimmy Choo heels. “And I’m seriously in need of a bathroom and a cup of coffee. Do you need anything from the kitchen?”
“Coffee and a biscotti would be nice. No need to hurry, though,” she answered, mulling over what Courtney had just said about being unsure of their marriage.
Or, wait, had she put it a different way... Alaina tried to recall the shifting words in her mind. She was having trouble sorting what was real or remembered, or just an impression.
Kind of like those drawings in her sketchbook—she didn’t know which images came from real life and which ones were simple dreams until Porter told her.
Her brain was so rattled. She was such a freaking mess. She just wanted to feel certain about something. Anything. When Thomas made a soft cry, Alaina was only too glad for the reprieve from her thoughts.
She turned off the monitor and lifted him from the crib; his casted leg hung heavily. Her little boy needed her so much.
A quick diaper change later, she settled into the rocking chair and popped the bottle in his mouth, savoring the simple joy of snuggling him close and feeling his warm weight in her arms. She bent to brush a kiss through his baby-fine hair while his little fingers flexed and curled haphazardly around the bottle.
So precious.
More than anything she wanted to remember the day she and Porter had first met Thomas, the day they’d picked him up from the hospital. She ached to recall that moment when they’d first become parents to this beautiful boy. She wanted to be grateful for all she had, but she still couldn’t shake the feelings of frustration for all that she’d been denied.
What would happen if she never remembered anything more? Just that thought sent a bolt of panic through her.
Three deep breaths later, she saw her mother-in-law in the doorway with two cups of coffee. Courtney set one mug down beside Alaina with a small plate of biscotti before sitting elegantly on the edge of the daybed.
“Hmmm.” Courtney sighed, holding her mug under her nose and inhaling. “Manna for an exhausted mama.”
The java scent wafted from the cup, teasing the air. Alaina’s mouth watered but she didn’t want to hold the hot drink near her son. “Thank you again for your help caring for him since we brought him home from the hospital.”
“Of course I want to help. I’m not the most maternal figure in the world, but we are all family.” Courtney blew into her mug, then sipped. “I’m just so glad you and Porter have worked things out between you.”
Worked things out?
Alaina schooled her face not to show her surprise. Her mother-in-law had let something very telling slip. This was Alaina’s chance, the one she’d been waiting for, to unwittingly pry a piece of important information about the past from someone. But getting those words from Courtney wouldn’t be easy. The woman was a savvy lawyer.
Alaina opted to encourage Courtney to finish her thought. “Porter and I have come to an understanding thanks to Thomas.”
“Good. I’m so glad the two of you are staying together.” She shook her head sadly. “Divorce is tough on children. Although, of course, Porter’s father and I were never married, but I think you get my point. It was difficult on my son not having his dad in his life.”
Divorce.
There it was. The word she’d feared. The secret Porter had been keeping from her.
They’d been on the brink of splitting up.
Eleven
The family room was still littered with wrapping paper and baby toys. Porter’s eyes roved over the chaos, and he couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly the way a child’s Christmas should be. Presents spread all over the place and a room filled with family. His family.
So far, Thomas’s first Christmas had been a success. Porter and Alaina had unwrapped all of Thomas’s gifts and taken so many pictures. Even Barry had brought Thomas a gift—a giant puppy stuffed animal that took up a whole couch c
ushion on its own.
Everything was as it should be. Except for Alaina’s demeanor. That had shifted over the past few days. He could sense her growing frustration. She was angry with him for the time he spent locked away in his office, but it had been all he could do to keep his hands off her while he figured out the best way to tell her he had been holding back important parts of their past. Yes, he’d done so in hopes of rebuilding their family and along the way rediscovered his love for her.
A love that was now in danger again.
If only the doctors could give him concrete answers on her recovery and the odds that painful news could set her back? He knew she was strong. He wanted to trust in what they had.
Except how did a man tell his wife during the holidays that oh, by the way, they’d been talking to lawyers about a divorce shortly before that car accident?
That stark truth didn’t fit well into a Christmas bag.
But he wasn’t so good at pretending all was well anymore. So when he stepped out of his office, conversation between them had been stiff. Formal.
His mother and her boyfriend had already retired for the evening, leaving Alaina and Porter alone. They’d put Thomas down for the night.
Alaina had begun to stuff a trash bag with the discarded and ripped wrapping paper. She moved with an efficiency and fluidity that radiated anger.
He moved the framed drawing of Thomas she’d given him for Christmas onto the shelf behind the couch. This would be the start of the redecorating process. The process of making this house a home, one that reflected their joint, eclectic tastes.
Assuming he could figure out how best to ease into telling her about their past without destroying their future—while still making sure he didn’t somehow harm her recovery.
The radio played through a medley of Christmas songs, filling the space between them. This was his chance. He picked up a neatly wrapped box. He’d given her a ring earlier with Thomas’s birthstone, circled with diamonds. But he still had another present for her, something more personal rather than just focused on them as parents, and he’d hoped that in this stolen moment, he would be able to show her how much he cared.
Cared?
He needed to stop using that lukewarm word. He knew he loved her. Deeply. There was no denying that.
The only question? Did his wife still love him?
He tightened the bow on the box and hoped like hell he could get this right with her.
He loved her, more than he could have thought possible.
Her voice halted him. “Were we on the edge of divorce when we adopted Thomas?”
Porter stared at her, unblinking. Heart hammering. “Why would you say that? Do you remember something?”
“Just answer my question.” She set aside the bag of discarded wrappings, her posture tense. “Was our marriage over? Were we on the brink of splitting up when I had my accident? Answer me, damn it.”
He could feel her anger and her worries even though her voice remained low, her body rigid.
“Our marriage was in jeopardy. Yes. How did you find out?” Were her memories warning her about how close they’d been to throwing it all away? He set aside the package he’d been about to give her.
“Your mother told me.” Her tone was flat. Sharp. Accusatory.
He bit back a curse. Why would she do that? Clearly he hadn’t told his wife yet and it was his place to share. The betrayal cut deeply. He was disappointed in his mother—and in himself for not handling this better. “I had hoped to wait until after Christmas to tell you, but I see that’s only made things worse.”
“You’re right about that. This can’t wait. Not any longer.”
“I’m sorry, Alaina, so damn sorry for bungling this. This amnesia... Well, no more excuses. I’m sorry.” He thrust a hand through his hair. “The truth is, yes, we planned to get a divorce.”
“A divorce,” she echoed hollowly. “We were truly on our way to divorce.”
“We discussed it with an attorney. But even though we talked about it, we hadn’t started official proceedings.”
“Why not?” Her eyes flashed with a hint of hope, as if she wanted him to say they’d reconciled.
But he wouldn’t lie to her. Not again.
“We’d decided to stay together temporarily, because of Thomas.”
“I meant why didn’t you tell me sooner, before Christmas week?”
“What good would that have done when you didn’t remember? I wasn’t supposed to push you—”
“Stop. Just stop the excuses. You misled me. Deliberately.” Alaina’s eyes narrowed.
“Excuse me for wanting to hold my family together. Yes, I saw it as a chance to repair things so you, Thomas and I could have a future together. Then along the way it became about more. I wanted to romance you. I wanted to win my wife back.”
“Win? Win?” Her voice rose along with her obvious anger—and hurt. “Win me like I’m some kind of prize?”
Damn, that sounded cold. The truth really did sound better. “Win back your love.”
“Marginally better,” she conceded, “but still done in a way where you kept me in the dark. You could have said something, done something, to let me know things were more strained than just arguments.” Her voice cracked and she paused to take a deep breath. “You know how hard this has been for me, to struggle with not having any memories of you.”
Her accusation stung.
“You kept secrets of your own. You never told me what Douglas did to you. We were married, for God’s sake. And you never told me.” That truth had hurt. But he’d swallowed down the pain in an effort to solidify their future.
“Sounds to me like our marriage was a sham.” She clenched her hands into fists. “I love that child in there, but I don’t understand why we chose to adopt if we were about to divorce.”
“We weren’t about to divorce, damn it.”
“Don’t quibble. That’s the same as lying to me. That stops now.” The pain in her voice was audible. “Tell me exactly what happened before I lost my memory. What was the state of our relationship?”
The frustration and agony of those days were indelibly etched in his mind. He paced restlessly, but there was no escaping the past—or the present. “We’d been waiting for a child for a long while. Then right when we’d given up hope on each other, we got the call about Thomas. It was the wrong time, but he needed us. The surgery. We were afraid he would go into the foster system. So we agreed to stay together until the adoption became final.”
“And you didn’t think this was important for me to know?” Her arms crossed over her chest. Closing him out. Shutting him out.
“You were in no shape—”
“So you decided to climb into my bed again?”
“I wanted to put my family back together. I wanted to win you back and I saw the chance.” He stopped his restless pacing and rested his hands on her shoulders. How could he make her see how far he’d come? How much he’d changed? That he wanted this second chance to work between them, not just for their family, but because he loved her.
“The chance to get your way.” She shrugged off his hands. “Forget it. Forget everything. This hurts, Porter. This betrayal hurts too much for me to forgive.”
* * *
Alaina rocked her baby. The nursery provided her with a calming reassurance. She belonged here with him and her heart swelled in pain at the idea of not having this part of her life. Despite the mess of the past few weeks, she knew that a family was all she’d really ever wanted. The time in the nursery with her son was healing to her soul.
Such a precious child. Hers.
And Porter’s.
Thomas yawned in her arms, blinking up at her, eyes heavy with sleep.
“Thomas, you know I’ll always love you. Always.” Her murmur
mixed into the gentle lullaby music playing from the mobile over the crib.
She shook her head, still trying to piece together the latest revelation.
Surveying the mural on the wall—the one she’d painted—fuzzy images wafted in and out of her mind. Visits to doctor’s offices and specialists. Vacations and hotel rooms. Snippets of a past half remembered, feeling a bit like a dream upon waking.
For a moment, she held her breath, almost afraid breathing would chase the memories away. But instead, the thoughts became clearer, more vivid. Pieces of her past five years began to materialize and to make sense.
And then something else entered her mind that left her stomach in knots.
With a clarity that frightened her, she remembered the car ride home after picking up Thomas. Things had been so strained in the last few months leading up to the adoption. And their inability to conceive had dredged up old memories. Memories of Douglas and the attack and what might have been if he’d never beat her senseless. All of that had come crashing back at her when they’d picked up Thomas and she’d had an all-consuming headache. The pain had only grown worse when she’d realized their son had reminded her of her past. The past she’d been running and hiding from.
A past she’d hidden from Porter. A man she had married and had loved.
A man she loved still.
* * *
Porter was on the hunt, storming through the house looking for his mother. He needed to talk to her. To figure out why she’d jeopardized his second chance with Alaina.
He found her in the kitchen, scooping out heaps of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream into a silver bowl embellished with mistletoe.
“Mother, what the hell were you doing?”
“What are you talking about?” She piled more ice cream into the bowl, staring coolly at him.
“You told Alaina that we were getting a divorce.”
Courtney’s face was impassive. She shrugged nonchalantly. “I told her the truth. Somebody needed to.”
“That was my place.” Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest. He felt betrayed. It wasn’t his mother’s place to tell Alaina anything about their marriage. Porter inhaled deeply.