by Jeanne Allan
The little boy had still been sleeping when they returned from their ride yesterday.
The decision whether to ask Elizabeth if she wanted to ride again today had been taken from his hands when prewedding jitters hit his mother with a vengeance midway through breakfast this morning. Elizabeth had become Mary’s sounding board, her second-in-command, her anchor.
Russ had cravenly disappeared right after breakfast, mumbling about checking some cows. He hadn’t been able to look Worth in the eye as he left.
Worth saw a side of Elizabeth he hadn’t expected. Her crisis management skills, which would impress Thomas, clearly demonstrated why she’d thrived in the high-stress hotel business. He hadn’t considered how much easier it is to handle someone else’s crisis.
The faintest hint of baby powder scented the air. Jamie had spent the morning holed up in here with Worth while the madness flowed past the closed office door.
Worth liked having the kid around. He’d miss him when he left. His sisters had kids. He should spend more time with them. Their fathers would share.
Little boys needed a father. One of these days Elizabeth would have to find Jamie a father. Not one of those jerks Cheyenne had dug up, but a man who’d love and appreciate her. She couldn’t stay a widow forever.
Who’d take Jamie fishing?
He pictured Elizabeth squeamish at the thought of touching a worm and smiled. She’d do it for Jamie.
She was a good mother.
She’d make a good wife.
The man who married her would be a lucky man. Especially if she still had those green pajamas.
He didn’t want to think about green pajamas. Or about the man who married her.
All this prenuptial bliss silliness softened a man’s brain. Put thoughts there he didn’t want to have. She was making him as crazy as she was. Two more days and she’d be gone.
He could kick back and relax. Enjoy his peace and quiet. No babies giggling. Or redheaded mothers laughing.
He looked forward to his solitude.
He could make travel plans. Reservations. He hadn’t decided where he’d go first.
Marriage, a wife, a family, clipped a man’s wings. Worth hadn’t even spread his yet. He sure didn’t want them clipped.
Abruptly yanking open a desk drawer, he pulled out some brochures. The island of Hawaii had ranches and volcanoes. There was a whaling village on Maui. Broad creamy beaches and swaying palm trees on all the islands. And everywhere couples strolling. Couples.
Not a single brochure showed a lonely male tourist.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WORTH handed Elizabeth a glass of wine after the wedding rehearsal. “Do you suppose Thomas bribed the weather gods so he could have the hotel gardens at their peak for Mom’s outdoor wedding?”
“The columbines are gorgeous.” Elizabeth had been afraid her outburst at Allie’s party and her refusal to continue with his so-called arrangement would wreck any chance of a friendly relationship, but Worth behaved no differently toward her.
Elizabeth certainly didn’t miss his kisses.
She sipped her wine and tried to think of something clever to say. “The rehearsal went well.”
Worth raised a mocking brow. “It was a comedy of errors and you know it.”
“Doesn’t a bad dress rehearsal mean good luck for the opening night of a play? Maybe that applies to weddings, too.”
“Lassiter women don’t believe in normal weddings,” he said dryly. “Maybe that’s why they have successful marriages.”
Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. She didn’t want to talk about successful marriages. “This is the first time I’ve seen The Green Room after dark. All these shades of green. It’s lovely.”
And lyrically romantic. Candles in pale pink glass globes flickered on every conceivable surface, while Tiffany-style lamps glowed like jewels. In the corner, a young man played soft, romantic mood music on a moss-green grand piano. Ordinarily the hotel’s piano lounge, the room had been reserved for their private prenuptial dinner.
“Back when the St. Christopher Hotel was built in the late 1880s, ladies didn’t go into the bar, and they didn’t like to sit on display in the lobby, so this was the ladies’ lounge.” Worth eyed her over his wineglass. “For someone run ragged today by my mother, you look very nice tonight.”
“I don’t even want to know what nice means to a cattleman.”
He laughed and took a drink of wine.
“You look good in a blue shirt,” she blurted out. “It matches your eyes.”
“Is that good like a steak is good?” he asked gravely, his eyes warm with amusement.
She managed to laugh and hoped he didn’t notice her body humming. Something it had a deplorable tendency to do more and more in his presence.
Blue eyes would haunt her dreams.
At dinner she sat between Zane Peters and Quint Damian. She enjoyed them both. Smart, humorous, good-looking men.
Neither would show up in her dreams.
Worth sat between two of his sisters, his head leaning toward Greeley as he focused on her conversation. They both grinned and Worth put his arm around his sister, whispering something in her ear which turned her grin into full-blown laughter.
“Amazing how young Mary looks when you consider she raised four of them. I can’t imagine what it must have been like growing up in this family.”
Elizabeth turned to Quint Damian. “Fun, I’d think.”
He smiled. “Do I hear the voice of another only child?”
She nodded. “I always envied my friends with brothers and sisters.” Maybe it was the understanding on his face which led her to confess, “I think that’s why I wanted so badly to meet my stepbrother, but growing up, I never did. Then the hotel chain transferred me to Omaha, Nebraska, about an hour from Lincoln. I knew from my stepfather that his son taught in Lincoln. One day I took my courage in both hands and called him and invited him to meet me for dinner.”
“Greeley said you married him, so I’d guess the dinner was a success.”
Elizabeth toyed with her fork. “I thought so.”
He reached over and gave her elbow a sympathetic squeeze. “Mary can’t say enough about how clever your son is. I think if Russ pulled out of the wedding now, Mary would insist she get to keep Jamie as her grandson.”
Elizabeth took a gulp of wine to hide the wobbling of her lower lip. “Thank you,” she managed to say.
Quint patted her arm and turned in response to a question from Cheyenne on his other side.
A lonely ache grew in her chest. The wine must be making her weepy. She couldn’t cry. A prenuptial dinner was a happy occasion.
She assumed for everyone else it was.
Tomorrow night after the wedding, she and Jamie would spend the night at St. Chris’s and fly out of Aspen the following morning.
Elizabeth felt confident that once they were married, Mary would drag Russ to visit his only daughter and grandchild. No doubt she and Jamie would come back to visit her father and Mary.
Those visits wouldn’t be the same as this visit. They’d be less hectic. Less upsetting.
Less magical.
Why that should be so, Elizabeth didn’t want to think about. She already knew the answer.
She forced down the dinner, drank her wine and smiled. And smiled and smiled. Smiled until the muscles of her face ached.
Every part of her ached.
Everyone toasted everyone else. The dinner went on forever. It was over much too soon.
The wedding. And then home.
To start her life over.
Elizabeth paced her bedroom floor, Jamie fussing unhappily in her arms. A new tooth had picked a poor time to come through, and Jamie had cried all the way back to the ranch.
In the hours since they’d returned from the prenuptial dinner, Elizabeth had rocked him endlessly as her normal remedies to ease his pain failed miserably. Jamie would doze for seconds, only to jerk awake and re
sume crying. She’d finally abandoned the rocker to walk the bedroom floor.
Her spirits had fallen so low, Elizabeth was in danger of tripping over them. She hadn’t even been tempted to smile when she’d heard Mary sneak past the closed bedroom door on her way to what Mary mistakenly believed to be a secret rendezvous with Russ.
“How about another cold teething ring?” she asked Jamie, wiping his unhappy face with a tissue.
Worth opened his bedroom door as she stepped into the hallway. “Anything I can do?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again, knowing he hadn’t been able to sleep because of Jamie’s crying. “I have another teething ring in the freezer. The cold numbs the gum, and this one has warmed up.”
“Here.” Worth held out his arms. “Give him to me.”
When she came back up the stairs, Worth was walking up and down the hall, softly singing country music, rocking her son in his arms. Jamie, chewing on one of Worth’s knuckles, rejected the plastic teething ring.
“I’ll walk him awhile,” Worth said.
The wide hallway ended at a window overlooking the ranch yard. Too exhausted to argue, Elizabeth sat on the low, upholstered bench under the window.
Shirtless, wearing a pair of unbelted blue jeans, Worth strolled up and down the hall on bare feet. Jamie fussed and chewed Worth’s hand.
“He’s going to bite through to the bone,” Elizabeth said.
“He’s just gumming me.” Worth crooned a few more bars. “Mom will make Russ happy,” he said unexpectedly, walking away from Elizabeth.
“I hope Russ makes her happy.”
At the end of the hall he turned and headed back in her direction. “Are you worried he won’t? Is that why you looked so sad tonight?”
“No. I mean I wasn’t sad. I’m not worried.” The hall light was dim, but she sensed him studying her.
“It must be hard. I don’t think any of us considered what an ordeal this would be for you.”
“When will you believe I’m not against Russ getting remarried?” she asked in quiet exasperation.
“I didn’t mean that.” Worth made a U-turn and walked away. Jamie’s fussing seemed to have somewhat lessened. “I meant any wedding must be difficult. Weddings can’t help but bring back memories of your own wedding day.” After a minute he added, “I’ll bet neither your wedding nor your courtship were as crazy as what my sisters put us through.” He pivoted and headed toward her, shaking his head, amusement threading his voice.
“No, they weren’t crazy.” Crazy had come later. After Jamie’s birth. “Believe it or not, I used to be a calm, reasonable person, terrific in a crisis. In the hotel business, you have to be. My wedding ran like clockwork. Russ gave me away and my stepfather stood up with Lawrence. My maid of honor wore pale teal because it’s her favorite color. I wanted everyone as happy as I was. I wore my mother’s dress.”
Elizabeth fell silent, remembering how beautiful she’d felt in the dress. Initially she’d hesitated to wear it, fearing it might be bad luck since her parents had divorced, but Lawrence had laughed at her superstitious fear.
For his own reasons.
Roses in shades of creamy white through delicate apricot had filled the church. The day had been warm even for eastern Nebraska, and the smell of roses had almost gagged Elizabeth when she’d walked into the church. By the time the ceremony ended, she’d grown accustomed to the strong odor.
A person could get used to anything.
Elizabeth thought about that, and thought about roses in June and realized what day it was. Midnight had come and gone. The sun would rise in a few hours. It was already the day of Russ’s and Mary’s wedding.
Words she hadn’t intended saying came out in a rush. “Tomorrow would have been my third wedding anniversary.”
Worth abruptly stopped, his back to her. After a minute he said, “Russ should have told us.” Turning, he added quietly, “I’m sure Mom didn’t know. She never would have scheduled her wedding the day before your anniversary.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” It didn’t. Little about her wedding or her marriage mattered now. Except Jamie. Jamie mattered.
“It does matter.”
“Don’t tell Mary. Don’t mention it to anyone. I don’t want Russ or Mary to feel bad. I could have said something when Russ first told me when they were getting married.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She shrugged again.
The silence lengthened. Only Worth’s padding footsteps and Jamie’s occasional teary hiccup broke it. Worth had walked the length of the hallway a dozen more times before he spoke. “You didn’t mention it because you thought your father should have remembered your wedding day.”
Elizabeth put her feet on the bench, wrapped her robe around her legs and hugged them to her chest. “Russ isn’t good on dates.”
“Russ can tell you the birthdate of every horse that foaled during his tenure on that Texas ranch,” Worth said evenly.
“It’s not easy raising a long-distance child,” Elizabeth said. “I didn’t help much. We moved to Europe when I was twelve. I convinced him to visit me there instead of me visiting him. Mom would sign the two of us up on tours. He’d come for a couple weeks, and touring filled the awkward places. After we returned from Europe, I went to camp or had a summer job, so I managed to avoid going to a ranch again. He spent more time with those horses than me. Why wouldn’t he know more about them?”
After a few more turns, Worth said softly, “I think Jimbo’s finally worn himself out. I’ll put him in bed.”
Elizabeth followed him, watching as he laid her son on his back and tucked a soft blanket over him. Leaning over, Worth gently kissed Jamie, then smoothed his hand over the sleeping baby’s head. Jamie slumbered on.
Elizabeth leaned against the doorjamb. “Thank you.”
Worth pulled her into the hallway and closed the door behind them. Facing her, he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “You’re scheduled to fly home the day after the wedding.” He smoothed the side of her hair. “I think you ought to stick around a few more days, Red.”
Her breath caught. He didn’t want her to leave. A tiny tendril of pleasure started to unfurl before Elizabeth deciphered the emotion in his eyes. He felt sorry for her. “Why should I stay?” she asked coolly. “Is it bad luck to fly on an anniversary no one’s celebrating?”
“I don’t think it’s a good day for you to be alone.”
“Are you worried I’ll go on a drinking binge? Overdose on sleeping pills? Maybe you think I’ll light candles in front of a shrine to Lawrence’s memory.” She shrugged off his hands and fled to the end of the hall, to stand in front of the bench. Looking out the window, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her chest.
“The stars are really twinkling tonight.”
She didn’t turn around. “They don’t twinkle. Atmospheric dust makes them look like that. Solar pollution.”
“Another romantic illusion shattered,” Worth said lightly.
Suddenly chilled, Elizabeth squeezed her arms. “Sorry.” The curt apology couldn’t have sounded less sincere. She was past caring about romantic illusions. They were for children. And the blindly stupid. When you found out the truth, which you always did if it was an awful truth, it hurt a thousand times worse than if you’d known the truth from the beginning.
Worth rubbed her upper arms, bringing warmth. Because rubbing made her blood flow, warmed the under layers of skin. No other reason. “It’s late,” she said sharply. “You’d better go to bed.”
“You, too.”
“I will.”
“Tell me about your husband. Sometimes talking helps.”
“Does it? Does talking mend a broken leg, cure cancer, heal a diseased body?”
His hands stopped moving and tightened on her upper arms. “It gives you an outlet for anger.”
“My h
ow-to-be-a-good-little-widow book talked about anger, too. How it is one of the first stages of grieving. Somewhere in there you finally come to acceptance. They make it sound like having a bad cold. You come down with it, are sick, then you’re fine. They don’t say how long recovery takes.”
“I imagine it takes as long as a person needs.”
“How I love answers that say absolutely nothing at all. Given by blathering idiots who know absolutely nothing, yet feel compelled to share their total lack of knowledge.”
Worth gave a soft chuckle. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“No? I had no trouble getting rid of Lawrence.”
“He died. You’re in no way responsible for his death.”
Elizabeth was exhausted and emotionally drained. The only feeling she could whip up was anger at Worth for his mindless platitudes. What did he know? She felt like shocking him out of his complacent ignorance. “I’m not talking about his death. He left Jamie and me. Wrote me a nice…no, not nice at all…A long letter explaining why he was walking out on us, then walked. Just like that. We got home from the hospital; I fed Jamie and put him down to sleep. When I came out of the room we’d fixed up as a nursery, I found the letter taped to the kitchen table. I was reading it for about the eighth or ninth time when the policeman showed up. I started laughing when he told me Lawrence had been killed.”
Worth’s hands were dead weights on her arms. He said nothing. His silence didn’t surprise her. The policeman had been so shocked, he’d wanted to call an ambulance and have her carted off to the hospital. Thoughts of Jamie had quickly brought Elizabeth to her senses.
Removing Worth’s hands, she stared ahead at nothing. “I don’t know why I told you. I burned the letter as soon as the policeman left, and I never told anyone about it. I would appreciate it if you forgot I said anything.” She stepped around him and walked away.
Worth stood frozen at the end of the hallway, deeply disturbed as much by Elizabeth’s empty voice as by what she’d said. He thought of his sisters coming to him when unhappiness and pain overwhelmed them, and he wondered how Elizabeth had endured. Who had she turned to? She said she’d told no one.
