by Jeanne Allan
Her legs lay entangled with his, the hair on his legs rasping against the sensitive skin behind her knees. J.J. wiggled closer to him, molding her bottom into the curve of his hips. He smelled of soap and after-shave. And of their wedding night. The soporific sound of his deep breathing soothed J.J., and her eyelids drifted downward. It was impossible to control her thoughts or her body when she was so exhausted.
Luke shifted in his sleep; his hand trailed from her breast down to her stomach where it lay flat and warm against her skin. J.J.’s backbone melted into his chest and belly. She needed sleep. Tomorrow she’d be clearheaded. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the ramifications of their lovemaking.
A hand roving over her body, renewing its familiarity with her secrets, awakened J.J. Moonlight bouncing off the snow lit the room and silhouetted Luke’s wide shoulders as he sprawled at her side, his head propped on his other hand.
“You respond to me even in your sleep,” he said with quiet satisfaction.
Once she’d believed he held the key to a side of her few knew. He hadn’t, but at least he knew this about her, and she began to burn beneath his knowledgeable touch, her breathing turning rapid and shallow. His head backlit by moonlight, her eyes half closed, she couldn’t read his face. Or guess his thoughts. Any messages flowed from his fingertips to her body. When she could stand the sweet torment no longer, she pulled him down on top of her. He came without hesitation, with a low laugh of triumph. To punish him, she captured his tongue between her teeth. And then the fire consumed them again.
Dawn grayed the room when J.J. awoke. She lay alone in the center of Luke’s king-size bed. The chilly air in the room sent her burrowing further under the thick comforter. This being the first time she’d been in Luke’s room, she unabashedly indulged her curiosity. As in the office, books and magazines lay in haphazard heaps on every flat surface. Boots spilled out of the half-open closet, a pair of jeans had been flung across the back of a ragged overstuffed chair, and a damp towel hung over one of the bottom bedposts. Faded cowboy print bark cloth from the forties curtained the windows. Pictures, probably from old calendars and framed in aged barn wood, hung on the walls. J.J. guessed the room, with the exception of the bed, had been decorated by Luke’s grandmother about fifty years ago.
Stretching under the covers, J.J. felt the pull of muscles used after long inactivity. She wondered why Luke had left without wakening her. Out of kindness, to allow her to sleep longer? Or out of embarrassment? She welcomed not having to face him yet. Too many issues had to be resolved in her mind before she dealt with whatever he was thinking.
The first issue, of course, was their divorce. Last night changed nothing. She couldn’t be the kind of wife Luke wanted. The physical side of their marriage had never been the problem. In bed, they were good together. She had no doubt once she got into bed with Burton, it would be good between them, too. She might not feel the same thrill now when Burton kissed her, but Burton had been married. He was experienced, and he would have no trouble igniting J.J.’s passions every bit as satisfactorily as Luke did.
It didn’t take a genius to understand what had prompted her and Luke’s actions last night. When it came to pent-up emotion, sex acted as a time-honored release and restorative.
Those two issues satisfactorily dealt with, JJ. contemplated the last issue with less equanimity. Unlike the others, this issue refused to go away or be boxed up with easy explanations. How did a woman look her almost ex-husband in the eye the morning after a night of unbridled passion? Even more difficult, how did she explain, despite having no regrets, she had no intention of repeating the incident?
An eternity spent showering failed to produce any magic answers. Heading down to the kitchen to see if Luke had eaten breakfast, J.J.’s sentiments careened from feeling it would be best to get the situation resolved to hoping Luke was nowhere around.
He sat at the kitchen table eating hot cereal and toast and reading a newspaper. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Flustered by his presence and uncertain how to act, J.J. concentrated on pouring a cup of coffee. “Any word from the hospital?” She injected her voice with impersonal cheerfulness and looked at Luke’s ear. His ears stuck out from his head the tiniest bit. Nothing about them should make her stomach feel funny. Nothing did, she told herself forcefully. That hollow feeling had to do with how little she’d managed to eat last night when she’d finally sat down to supper.
“Mother and daughter both doing fine. Want to run over and see them later today?”
“I’d like that.”
“We’ll go after I feed.” Luke pushed back his chair and stood up. “About last night. As far as I’m concerned, nothing happened.” He put his dirty dishes in the sink, his back to J.J. “There’s no reason to bore Alexander with it. I know you had a rough day yesterday. You needn’t worry I’ll mention last night again or make any demands of you on account of it.” He walked from the kitchen.
Leaving J.J. staring openmouthed after him. After a minute, she lifted the lid from the pan on the stove. Cooked oatmeal. She filled a bowl with the singularly unappetizing-looking mess. Luke’s rush to excuse her from future appearances in his bed made it clear not repeating last night’s lovemaking called for no sacrifice on his part.
Not that she wanted to share his bed. Admittedly it would have been nice if he’d allowed her to reject him first, but one couldn’t have everything. She was thrilled she wouldn’t have to worry about him importuning her to sleep with him.
The explanation behind his lack of interest suddenly struck her. Luke had said from the first he’d insisted she come here because he knew having her around would cure him of wanting her. A canary yellow coward, he’d called her, unfit to live on the ranch, who’d whine and complain and be an absolute pain in the neck. She hadn’t fooled him yesterday. She’d done every one of those things. More concerned with her own stupid fears than with Birdie and the baby. Then, when it was all over, going to pieces in her bed and disturbing Luke. He probably figured having sex with her was the quickest way to settle her down so he could get some sleep. Her behavior had definitely killed all feelings Luke had ever had for her.
J.J. emptied her oatmeal down the garbage disposal. If she were in Denver she could pick up a doughnut or a bagel or a cinnamon roll or an English muffin on her way to work. Only a cowboy would actually eat oatmeal.
Birdie thanked Luke for the flowers and accepted his flattering words about her baby. When he asked her what she intended to name the baby, she smiled shyly at J.J. “I thought I’d name her Jacqueline Ann, after you and my grandma. I’ll call her Jackie Ann.”
Pleasure washed over J.J. at the unexpected compliment. “I’d be honored to have your baby named after me, but...” She hesitated, unsure how to proceed. “What about the baby’s father?” she finally asked.
“Some father. The doctor said Ad’s knocking me around is probably what caused Jackie Ann to come early.” Birdie’s face turned red as she tried to keep from crying. “Ad was here this morning. When I told him I wasn’t gonna come home on account of his hitting me and maybe hurting the baby, he started yelling at me. The nurse came in and made him leave, but he said he’d take the baby away from me. He said I was too stupid to be a mama.”
“He had no business coming to see you. He must have been issued a seventy-two-hour no-contact order,” JJ. said.
“My dad picked him up at the jail. He told Ad I had no business airing our dirty laundry in public. Like Jackie Ann’s nothing but dirty socks.”
“Don’t worry, Birdie,” Luke said. “Nobody around here is going to let Ad take the baby away from you.”
Birdie looked at JJ. “I want a divorce. I know you aren’t a lawyer anymore, JJ., now you’re Luke’s wife and all, but Luke said you were a big lawyer in Denver. You’ll get me a divorce, won’t you? I can’t let Ad hurt Jackie Ann.”
JJ. gently touched Birdie’s restless hands. “I’m sure there are a number of good lawyers around h
ere. Luke will help you find one.”
“I know I don’t got the kind of money you must have cost, but I’m gonna get a job and I can send you a little something every month.” Birdie picked at her blanket.
“Money has nothing to do with it, Birdie. I don’t—”
“I know you don’t need money, married to Luke and all.”
“Being married to Luke has nothing to do with it. I don’t do divorce work.”
“You could try and talk Luke into letting you do this one thing, couldn’t you? I don’t want to cause trouble between you and Luke, honest I don’t, but Luke’s crazy about you. He’d let you be my lawyer if you wanted to.”
J.J. looked at Luke as he stood silently at the foot of the hospital bed. He stared impassively back. J.J. wondered how many other people had heard from Luke she used to be a lawyer in Denver. Birdie’s words painted a clear picture of what J.J.’s life would be if she stayed married to Luke. Not that she’d been considering doing such a stupid thing. “I do not need Luke’s permission to take a case,” J.J. said in a frosty voice.
Birdie’s lower lip wobbled. “I guess you only work for important people.”
“That’s not it. I don’t—”
“I know Jackie Ann and I are nobody. I’m not smart like you,” Birdie blurted out. “Ad says I’m too stupid to talk to.”
“Which shows how dumb he is,” J.J. said instantly. “You’re not stupid. The stupid one is Ad Parker. He’s so dumb he didn’t even know how to treat his wife. You and Jackie aren’t nobodies. You’re somebodies, and don’t you ever forget it. You’re somebody important.” J.J. took a deep breath. “Birdie, you’re right about one thing. I only take on important clients. Very important clients. And as of right now, you and Jackie Ann are my clients, and I’ll represent your interests to the best of my ability.”
Birdie’s face glowed. “Thank you.” She added solemnly. “I want you to know, J.J., after you helped me birth Jackie Ann, she’s like your baby, too.”
J.J. thrust aside the unexpected pain. She’d made her choices, and they were the right ones for her. Only fools expected perfect solutions.
As they exited the hospital parking lot, Luke said, “I know what you’re thinking, O’Brien, but I did not tell Birdie you were giving up the practice of law or that you were moving here. She asked me where you were from, and I said you were a lawyer in Denver. Any other conclusions she drew came strictly from her own ideas about marriage.”
“Do you expect me to believe Birdie’s ideas bear no relationship to your ideas about marriage?”
“Listen, lawyer lady, if my thoughts on marriage in any way mirrored Birdie’s, I’d have roped and throwed you last year and hauled you back to the ranch and put my brand on you so you knew what pasture you belonged in.”
“How provincial. The wife as a husband’s possession.”
“I used the word ‘if.’ ”
“Admit it. You want a wife who follows you around and does your bidding like a drooling puppy dog.”
“My mother has followed my dad around for thirtyfive years. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a wife who’s willing to share my life.”
“In other words, give up her own. Move out here to the back of beyond and live with cows.”
“You make it sound like a fate worse than death.”
“To anybody but a lapdog, it would be,” J.J. retorted.
“I don’t know why we’re having this conversation,” Luke said coldly, “since under the circumstances, the kind of wife I’d like doesn’t concern you.”
“I was merely making idle conversation.”
“Sure.” They rode in silence until Luke asked, “Why did,you refuse at first to take on Birdie as a client? Don’t worry about your fee. I’ll pay her bills.”
“That won’t be necessary. The law firm encourages us to take on the occasional pro bono client.”
“Will you be stepping on someone else’s toes by taking on a divorce case?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Then what?” She knew very well what he wanted to know.
“Why’d you initially turn her down? Oh hell,” he slapped the steering wheel. “You didn’t want to represent her because you didn’t want to come back here.”
She grabbed at the excuse he’d handed her. “This isn’t exactly a Hawaiian paradise.”
Luke shot her a quick look. “Yesterday you thought the snow and mountains beautiful.”
“They are. In paintings.”
“You’re worried about embarrassing me, aren’t you? Damn it, O’Brien, I’m a big boy. I’m not going to fall apart if I run into my ex-wife on the street. Nor will I toss you in the snow to make mad, passionate love. Bring Alexander with you.”
Heat crawled up J.J.’s face. “This isn’t Burton’s idea of a vacation hot spot, either.”
“You can both stay with me.”
“Gee, wouldn’t that be peachy keen?”
“I won’t even comment at the breakfast table about creaking bedsprings during the night. There’s no reason for you to be afraid of taking on Birdie’s divorce case.”
“I wasn’t afraid,” J.J. practically shouted. “I don’t take divorce cases because I don’t like divorce.” The minute the angry words left her mouth she could have kicked herself for allowing Luke’s ridiculous suppositions to goad her into saying the one statement she would have preferred remained unsaid.
For what seemed an eternity her words echoed in the truck cab over the noise of the engine. Then Luke burst out laughing.
“You can’t keep introducing me all over town as your wife when we both know our marriage is about to come to a screeching halt.” J.J. flounced with annoyance. As much as one could flounce belted in the front seat of a pickup.
“Would you please let me worry about what my friends will think? I like that blue-green sweater and slacks outfit. You ought to wear that color more often. Matches your eyes.”
J.J. ignored both the fashion advice and the strained patience in Luke’s voice, which attested to his having already made the first request more than once. “Your friend, the pie-baker—”
“Susan Curtis.”
“—communicated quite clearly she thinks I’m lower than the scum of the earth. No doubt all your friends agree with her. Do you enjoy people feeling sorry for you, or are you hoping everyone will snub me and I’ll have a miserable time?”
“No one’s going to snub you.”
“There’s assurance I can take to the bank,” J.J. said sarcastically. “You’re the one who thought the pie baker and I would like each other.”
“You would like Susan, if you’d give her a chance.”
“I think you’ve been kicked in the head by a cow.”
Luke pulled into a wide circular driveway and stopped behind a number of vehicles already parked there. Dusk had not yet given way to dark, but light streamed through large windows in the long, low, log house hugging the crest of a knoll. Whatever J.J. expected a county sheriff to live in, it wasn’t an expensive, modern house like this. Luke opened the passenger door and J.J. stepped down. A dog barked from out back. Wind swirled around her feet bringing the scent of the small junipers that lined the front of the house.
A tall, slender woman with short, curly, chestnut-colored hair answered the door. “Luke!” She threw herself into Luke’s embrace before turning to J.J. “You must be J.J. I could hardly wait to meet you.” Tossing JJ.’s coat at Luke, the woman grabbed J.J.’s hand and took her down a long hall to a huge, sunken living room. “Everyone, say hello to Luke’s bride, J. J. O’Brien.” The reddish-haired woman pointed around the room, rattling names off so quickly, J.J. knew she’d never remember a quarter of them. She already knew Susan Curtis and the sheriff, Everett Bailey, and smiled gratefully as the latter moved to welcome her.
“Margo,” the sheriff said, “you forgot somebody.”
The woman widened her green eyes. “I don’t think so.”
Luke laug
hed from behind J.J. “Give it up, Ev. Margo works hard at being a bubblehead. She’s convinced mystery writers are supposed to be eccentric. J.J., this is Margo Bailey.”
“My ball and chain,” the sheriff said manfully.
“Your reason for living,” his wife retorted.
“The albatross around my neck.”
“Your personal back-scratcher and foot-warmer.”
“Enough!” someone yelled from across the room. “Don’t let them get started, Luke.”
Margo sniffed audibly, turned her nose up at all of them and hustled J.J. out to the kitchen, saying she needed help. “I don’t. That was an excuse so I can grill you.”
“Grill me?” J.J. asked lightly, her heart sinking.
“Ev and Luke have been best friends for eons, so you have to tell me the worst about you so we can be best friends.” Margo poured two glasses of wine, handed J.J. one, perched on a tall stool and pointed to a second stool.
J.J. slowly sat and looked around the enormous, gleaming kitchen. “What a lovely kitchen you have.”
“I guess so. Ev and the architect designed it. I don’t cook. Now, tell me everything. All Ev would tell me is he met you when he went out to arrest Ad Parker.” She scowled. “He wouldn’t tell me why he thought that so darned funny. Ev wouldn’t even tell me if you were beautiful,” she added indignantly. “Susan had to tell me that.”
“Susan Curtis?”
Margo nodded her head. “She said you hated her on sight. She really meant she didn’t like you, but that’s Susan. She detested me when we met. On account of she thought I treated Ev badly. He was a cop in Denver, and that’s why he walks with a limp. Got his leg shot up pretty bad. I’m from Wyoming and when it happened he told me he didn’t love me, thinking I shouldn’t marry a cripple. Aren’t men stupid?”
Understanding the question to be rhetorical, JJ. didn’t answer.
“Naturally I told my dad Ev had got me pregnant and Daddy is the police chief, that’s how I met Ev, he came to pick up a criminal, so he had to marry me. We hadn’t even had sex, but Ev knew there was no point in trying to convince Daddy of that.”
