His Texas Wildflower

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His Texas Wildflower Page 15

by Stella Bagwell


  “And did she?”

  Gwyn’s expression turned hard. “Oh, yes. She even seemed happy for me. Little did I know that she had her eyes set on my fiancé.”

  “When did you find out about the two of them?”

  “Not until a couple of months after Vance and I were married. Gertrude came to me and told me that she was carrying Vance’s child and that their…indiscretion had happened before the wedding. She’d planned to keep their tryst a secret, but that the pregnancy forced her to come out with the truth. I was completely devastated. I’d been betrayed by both my husband and my sister.”

  Rebecca clutched the coffee cup as she watched pain slip across Gwyn’s face. “I understand this isn’t easy for you to say. It’s not particularly easy for me to hear. And I realize that you were wronged. Terribly so. But that hardly justified you living a lie.”

  Gwyn’s mouth fell open. “A lie? Why, what do you mean? I’m not the one who cheated!”

  “You cheated me out of knowing my own mother. As far as I’m concerned you cheated in the worst kind of way. What I can’t understand is why Gertrude and my father allowed it.”

  Her eyes lit with vengeful fire, Gwyn leaned forward. “They allowed it because I held the cards, that’s why! She was nothing but a backstabbing slut and I was ready to smear her reputation into the dirt. She’d always gone around acting so meek and mild and holier-than-thou when all along she was a nothing, a nobody! I was the social flower, not her! And I damned sure wasn’t going to let our friends and acquaintances learn what she and Vance had done to me!”

  Revenge. Nothing good could ever come from it. But apparently Gwyn had yet to realize that lesson.

  “How were you going to smear her reputation without dragging Daddy into it?”

  “I wasn’t above making up a sordid story about her. That wouldn’t have been nearly as bad as what she’d actually done to me. So when I threatened, she caved. And believe me, it didn’t take much threatening. Gertrude was the type who always did have too much conscience. She felt as guilty as hell and wanted to make it up to me. And most of all, she wanted what was best for her baby. She didn’t want you raised up under a cloud of nasty gossip and illegitimacy. So I immediately spread the news that I was pregnant and then a few weeks later, I made up a cock-and-bull story that Gertrude and I had a widowed aunt in California who had taken ill and we were going out to care for her until she could get back on her feet. The two of us did go to California, a little town on the southern coast where no acquaintances would likely run into us. Once you were born, I came back with you as a new mother. Gertrude went her own way and I never spoke to her after that.”

  “And Daddy? What did he have to say about all this? About getting Gertrude pregnant? About this plan of yours?”

  “He was contrite, of course. He assured me that he’d only made love to Gertrude one time and that it hadn’t meant anything. He’d just had a last-minute panic about losing his bachelorhood and Gertrude had been handy and willing. He wanted to raise his child and once Gertrude agreed to turn the baby over to me, he had to stick by my side. He didn’t have any other choice. And in the long run, I don’t think he wanted anyone to think badly of Gertrude. He didn’t want her hurt in that way. And he didn’t want you to be raised up under a shroud of ugly gossip, either.”

  It was all Rebecca could do to keep from rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. The more Gwyn talked the more psychotic she sounded. “And why do you think that was, Mother? If it was just a physical thing between them, why would he care if Gertrude was hurt? Do you think it might have been because he loved her?”

  The anger on Gwyn’s face suddenly disappeared and in its place came a look of weary defeat. “For years I never believed Vance had ever cared for Gertrude. I believed his heart was truly mine. But I didn’t know about the letters—that he’d stayed in contact with her until he died. Now I can only think that they probably continued to see each other—until Vance was killed.”

  Bitter nausea swam in the pit of Rebecca’s stomach. So many people had lied and loved and lost. “I was an innocent baby and you used me as a pawn—to get what you wanted. You didn’t care that you took me away from my mother or that I might have needed her. You didn’t even care about me, did you?”

  If possible, Gwyn’s face turned even paler. She took a nervous gulp of tea and answered in a flat voice, “All right, you asked for honesty so I’m going to give it to you. In the beginning I didn’t want you. Each time I looked at you it killed me. You were a constant reminder of my husband’s infidelity, my sister’s betrayal. But then—” Her eyes suddenly filled with tears as she reached an imploring hand toward Rebecca. “You were such a lovely baby and after a while I couldn’t help but fall in love with you. And then it was easy for me to pretend that none of it had ever happened. That I had actually given birth to you.”

  Rebecca didn’t allow Gwyn to clasp her hand. There was too much hurt and confusion going on inside Rebecca to summon up any tender emotions for this woman who’d turned a bad choice into a lifelong nightmare. “Why did you never speak to Gertrude again? Why couldn’t you find it in your heart to attend her funeral?”

  Gwyn was dumbfounded. “Rebecca! Do you actually have to ask those questions? The woman wronged me!”

  “And what did you do to her? Extorted her child from her! Hid the identity of my real mother from me! That’s not a little wrong, that’s a massive one.”

  Refusing to acknowledge her own faults, Gwyn said through clenched teeth, “Sister or not, I could never forgive her. And I don’t know how you could possibly pitch a defense for the woman!”

  Sadness fell like a heavy cloak around Rebecca’s shoulders and filled her heart with silent tears. “Yes, she made a bad mistake. But you retaliated and made even more. The way I see it, if a person doesn’t have the capacity to forgive then they hardly have the ability to love.”

  As Gwyn stared at her, a flicker of hope lit her eyes. “Does that mean—you’re willing to forgive me?”

  Grabbing up her handbag, Rebecca rose to her feet. “It’s way too early for me to answer that. And who knows, maybe being raised by you has influenced me more than you think.”

  Bewildered, Gwyn frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “That I might just hold a grudge against you for the rest of my life.”

  Gwyn gasped. “Rebecca!”

  “I’ve got to go,” Rebecca said abruptly. “Goodbye.”

  The other woman rose to her feet as though she was prepared to grab on to Rebecca and prevent her from walking out of the restaurant. “But you can’t leave now—like this! When are you coming home?”

  Rebecca swallowed as a cold, hard lump threatened to choke her. Home. The one she’d grown up in had been built upon a foundation of lies. Where was her home now? She didn’t know anymore. At this moment all she could think about was Jake, the comfort of his strong arms, the steadying sound of his rich voice. He was the only real thing left in her life. But even he was a temporary component.

  “I don’t know the answer to that. Maybe soon. Maybe never.”

  “Rebecca, I—”

  Rebecca didn’t wait to hear more. She’d already heard more than enough to break her heart.

  Chapter Ten

  Later that evening, when she arrived back at her little ranch, she was surprised to see Jake’s truck parked in the driveway. When he’d left early this morning, he’d not mentioned when he’d be back and today while she’d been in Ruidoso, he’d not rung her cell. But then she was learning he didn’t necessarily believe in notices or plans. He was a man who simply acted upon whatever he was feeling at the moment.

  She found him sitting on the front porch waiting for her to arrive and as she climbed the steps he must have noticed the weary sag of her shoulders, because he stood immediately and held out his arms.

  Wordlessly, she dropped her handbag onto the floor of the porch and rushed to him. As she nestled her cheek against his chest, she felt his chin rest atop
her head.

  “You saw your mother.”

  It wasn’t a question, it was a statement spoken in a flat voice, as though he already understood she was miserable. The fact that he could read her so well, that he was here at the moment she needed him most, filled her with bittersweet emotions. He might not think of himself as a permanent fixture in a woman’s life, but he’d already found a permanent place in her heart.

  But it wouldn’t be right to tell him how she felt. He’d not asked for her love. He’d even warned her that he wasn’t the loving kind. And she wasn’t going to weigh his conscience down with declarations and demands. The last thing she wanted to be was like Gwyn, who’d demanded that Vance love her, or else.

  “Yes,” she said with a weary sigh. “And it was worse than I imagined.”

  He stroked a hand down her back. “I figured it might be. That’s why I showed up. I thought you might need a little distraction this evening.”

  Tilting her head back, she looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and provocative surmise. “What sort of distraction?”

  His grin was warm and sexy and just what she needed to make her feel as though she was actually going to survive.

  “Since we—uh—got sidetracked last night and Banjo was already here, I thought we might try again. So I’ve saddled him and Starr. I thought we might ride across your land and check the fences. Do you feel up to it?”

  Even though he was sounding like the quintessential rancher, she realized the invitation had nothing to do with fences or making sure livestock remained on the proper property. He was trying to take her mind off her problems and on to something simple and pleasant.

  Touched by his thoughtfulness, she blinked at the moisture gathering at the back of her eyes. “I wouldn’t miss the chance for anything. Just let me change into some jeans and boots,” she told him.

  A few minutes later, after assuring her that he’d already ridden Starr and found the mare to be extremely gentle, he helped her into the saddle and swung himself up on the gelding he called Banjo.

  Even though it had been years since she’d been on a horse, it took her only a few minutes to get the hang of handling the reins and giving the horse the right cues to follow her directions. As the house and barn receded in the distance behind them, the sage-dotted land opened, making the trek easy for horse and rider.

  “This is nice,” she told him. “Being on Starr almost makes me forget about this afternoon.”

  His expression full of concern, he studied her closely. “I was hoping you found the answers you wanted.”

  She released a sharp, bitter laugh. “Oh, I got plenty of answers. They were just nothing like I’d expected them to be.”

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  To her amazement, she did want to tell him about it. Of all the people she knew, he would be the one who would understand the most. And that idea told her more about herself and the life she’d been leading than anything yet.

  “If you want to listen,” she told him.

  “I do.”

  Rebecca told him the whole unfortunate story, ending with Gwyn’s attitude. “Her sister is dead, yet she’s still harboring hatred toward the woman. You’d think after all these years she could forgive and forget.”

  Thoughtfully, Jake lifted his gray hat from his head and ran a hand over his thick waves. “You telling her about those letters probably threw her for a loop. She learned her husband really did love another woman and that she’d been hanging on to something she’d never really had in the first place. Including you. That would be a heck of a pill for most people to swallow.”

  Hanging on to something she’d never really had. Jake’s observation struck her like a thunderbolt. Was that what Rebecca was trying to do? Hang on to regrets of a mother she never knew and resentment for a mother who had pushed her to always do more and be better? Maybe even hang on to a life here in New Mexico even though her home had always been in Houston? No! She didn’t want to think about that now. If she did she might break apart completely.

  “You’re probably right,” she murmured glumly.

  Sage snapped against the horses’ legs and filled the evening air with the pungent scent. Behind them the sun began to sink and the desert around them became washed in hues of gold and purple. For a long stretch, they rode in silence, but every now and then their mounts drifted together and Rebecca’s leg would brush against Jake’s. The connection comforted her. And each time she glanced over at his dark profile, her heart filled to the brim and ached with a longing she’d never felt before.

  Her love for Jake was growing and so was this new life she’d found with him. But he wasn’t going to hang around forever. He simply wasn’t that type. And when he moved on to the next woman, where was that going to leave her? Without him would there be any reason for her to stay here?

  For the next few minutes, she did her best to push those questions from her mind and soak in her surroundings. After all, this land belonged to her and, other than a few short walks in the pasture, this was the first chance she’d had to look it over.

  Eventually the landscape began to change to low rolling hills and washed-out gullies. As they topped one particular rise, a windmill and water tank came into view.

  Jake tilted his head in that direction. “You probably need a break,” he said. “Let’s ride over there and give the horses a drink.”

  “Sounds good,” she agreed.

  It took them another ten minutes to reach the windmill and by then Rebecca was feeling the effects of being in the saddle. When Jake helped her to the ground her legs were trembling with fatigue and for a moment, she clutched his arm.

  “Sorry,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I guess when it comes to riding I’m a bit of a wimp.”

  He smiled down at her and as their eyes met, Rebecca had to fight back the urge to slip her arms around him, to tell him that she loved him, that she would always need and want him in her life. If he knew how she felt, would it change anything? Or would she simply be making a fool of herself? Oh, God, she didn’t know what to do about him, herself or anything.

  “I wouldn’t say that. It’s something you have to get conditioned to,” he told her, then reached for the reins of both horses. “I’ll lead them over to the tank for a drink while you find a place to sit down.”

  As Jake saw to the horses, the thought came to mind that this was the first time he’d ever taken a woman horseback riding. The pleasure was one of those things he’d never wanted to share with a female. For the most part they were too chatty to appreciate the bond a man had with his horse and too soft to deal with the heat and the flies and the grime that went with it. Besides all that, when a cowboy acquired a saddle pal he kept him for life. That was a code he didn’t break.

  So what was he doing here with Rebecca? he asked himself. He wasn’t planning on keeping her for life. He couldn’t. She wasn’t the keeper type. Not for a man like him, a man who changed women more often than he changed the oil in his truck. And even if he was the family type with dreams and hopes for a wife and kids, he could see she wasn’t ready to deal with such plans. This thing with Gertie and her parents had turned her world upside down and he figured it was going to take Rebecca a long time to get things figured out. Or she might never come to terms with it. He’d spent the past eighteen years trying to figure out why his father had deserted him and he still didn’t have the answers.

  Yet in spite of all this, he wanted to be with her. He wanted to take away the confusion and hurt in her heart. He didn’t know what that meant or why he was feeling this way. But he was beginning to understand what Quint had been trying to tell him. It was going to hurt and hurt bad whenever he had to let her go.

  After the horses had their fill of water, he tied them loosely to the wooden frame of the windmill. While he’d been dealing with their mounts, Rebecca had taken a seat on a grassy slope a few feet away. Now he walked over and sank down next to her.

  “Feeling better?�
� he asked.

  She looked away from him and he could see her throat work as she swallowed hard.

  “A little.”

  He rubbed the back of his fingers against her upper arm, while wishing he could wipe away the pain inside her just as easily. “It’s hell learning that your parents are something different than what you always believed them to be. I know.”

  She looked back at him and the misty glaze in her blue eyes very nearly tore a hole in his chest.

  “Yes, you would understand, Jake.” With a wan smile, she touched her fingers to his cheek. “I’m sorry I’m not very good company this evening.”

  “I didn’t come here for company. I came because—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “I thought you might need me.”

  The glaze in her eyes swelled to full-blown tears and with a choked groan she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his. “Oh, Jake, I do need you! I—” Pausing, she eased her head back far enough to look into his eyes. “I want you to make love to me. Now. Please.”

  Jake didn’t know what he’d been expecting her to say, but that was all he needed to hear. Galvanized by her plea, he circled his arms around her and found her mouth with his.

  The moment their lips met, Jake knew she was not in a gentle mood. Her tongue plunged between his teeth, while her fingers dug into his shoulders and pulled him tight against her. A groan rumbled deep in his throat as hot desire slammed into him and sent his head reeling from the force of it.

  If she was using him to wipe her mind of her troubles, Jake didn’t care. The taste, the very scent of her, wrapped around his senses and cloaked him from the whys or what-ifs of tomorrow. He was connected to her and her to him. That was more than he could ask for.

 

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