Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series)

by Watters, Patricia

  Jack sat on the bed and placed his hand on her belly, his eyes staring off as he waited for movement, then he smiled slightly, as if he'd felt a kick. But after that he stood abruptly, and said, "I need to get back to the stable," and left.

  Grace stared at the empty chair, wondering about his abrupt exit. But while Jack was awaiting the arrival of a son, she was struggling to hold onto the memory of a man's face that was becoming less clear. Blond hair and blue eyes kept morphing into shades of browns.

  ***

  The following day a van from Northwest Hospital Supply delivered a motorized wheelchair. Two men brought it into the lodge and showed Grace how to operate it. After they had her try it out, while watching her motor around the great room, they left. The first thing Grace noticed, after the delivery van was driving off, was Mei Ling perched on the mantelpiece of the big stone fireplace, gazing down at her. She had no idea when Mei Ling sneaked out of the bedroom, but she was sitting like a mantelpiece statue, tail wrapped around her paws, enjoying the warmth of a fire rising from the hearth as flames licked up, crackling and popping from pitch in the logs.

  Deciding to try her new wheels, Grace motored into the bedroom and returned with a small bowl of cat chow and one of Mei Ling's beds, which she set by the fire in an effort to get Mei Ling down and figure out a way to return her to the bedroom before Flo noticed. It wasn't long before the big gray cat left her perch on the mantle to check out the chow, and after that, she curled up in the cat bed. Deciding she could do nothing until Jack came in, Grace angled the wheelchair, blocking any view of Mei Ling in her bed from the direction of the kitchen, then pulled out the book on knitting that she'd tucked in beside her, and started reading.

  After a while, the sound of the softly hissing fire and the quiet burrs of Mei Ling purring in her bed made Grace drowsy, and before long, she drifted off…

  Some time later, Grace awakened feeling something on her belly. She opened her eyes to find a boy, about three, staring at her. From his features, he could be Jack's son, though she knew it was Ricky. As she looked at the silent boy, she could imagine the face of the child growing inside her. a very appealing face, with the biggest, blackest eyes she'd ever seen, a perfect button nose, lips with a slight droop, and a crop of dark wavy hair, like Jack's.

  His small hand patted her tummy, as he said, "My baby."

  The two words uttered by this small boy gave Grace a start. Did he know she was carrying a baby that could make him well? But surely no one told him such a thing. She took his hand in hers, and said, "This is my baby, but you'll be getting a baby brother soon. He's growing inside your Mommy." She immediately wanted to retract her words. If Susan didn't want to keep Marc's baby after he was born, Ricky would never understand what happened to him. Or worse, if Susan decided to abort the baby. She was a very troubled woman, and there was no question, the mother-child bond severed when she learned she wasn't carrying Jack's child.

  The boy snatched his hand away and patted her tummy again. "No, my baby," he insisted.

  As if sensing a need to intervene, Mei Ling left her bed and started rubbing up against Ricky, who smiled. It was the same endearing smile she'd seen on Jack's lips when he'd stood in the doorway watching her knitting the ridiculous heelless sock. Ricky seemed baffled as to what he should do, with a cat doing figure-eights against him, so he stood with his arms raised, and his head following Mei Ling's to-and-fro movements. Then Mei Ling flopped onto her back with her feet up, and Ricky let out a giggle and sat down beside her.

  Grace looked around, wondering where Ricky's parents were, when she heard Flo calling, "Ricky? Where are you?" before entering the room.

  Ricky removed his hand from Mei Ling and waited for Flo to come to him.

  Flo looked down at Mei Ling, who immediately rolled onto her feet and went to do her figure-eight thing between Flo's legs.

  "I'm sorry," Grace said. "Mei Ling slipped out of my room when the men came with the wheelchair. I'll take her back."

  She started to rise, but Flo put her hand on her shoulder. "You're not supposed to walk," she said. "I'll figure out a way to get her back." She went to the kitchen and came back with a broom.

  "No, please," Grace said, horrified that the woman would take a broom to Mei Ling. "She's pregnant and mustn't be traumatized."

  Flo stared at Grace as if she were mad. "Well, she can't be loose in the lodge. I'll call Jack." She rushed through the front door of the lodge, and a moment later, Grace heard the rapid gongs of a big brass bell outside the door. "Jack can deal with this," she said, on returning to the room. She looked at Ricky, who was rubbing Mei Ling's tummy. "I guess he's okay until Jack comes."

  "Where is Susan?" Grace asked.

  "Sam took her to the doctor," Flo replied. "She was crying and carrying on again this morning, and Sam wants the doctor to give her something to calm her down. This baby mix-up is a mess. but I guess I don't have to tell you that, with you carrying Jack's baby and not even knowing him. It must be pretty upsetting."

  Grace put her hands on her belly. "It was at first," she said, "but I'm slowly adjusting. Jack's an interesting man. and he's happy about having a son."

  "There's no question about that," Flo replied. "It'll be good for him, having a boy around. He's a lonely man." She gripped the broom and turned away. "Yell if Ricky's any trouble," she said, her words trailing off as she headed towards the kitchen.

  Grace pondered Flo's words. Why was Jack lonely? He was handsome, eligible, well-off. And caring. Finding a wife should not be a problem. But he showed no sign of wanting to fill his loneliness with anything but a son.

  She glanced at Ricky, who was giggling as Mei Ling turned round and round in circles in preparation for lying down. While Ricky sat petting Mei Ling, Grace motored to one of the front windows. Outside was a sitting area with rustic lawn chairs and a couple of wooden tables, all covered in snow. A double-wide wooden swing, also covered in snow, hung by chains from an oak tree, and an assortment of bird and squirrel feeders, filled with seed, were arranged near the sitting area. But in the distance beyond the stable, she saw Jack galloping toward the lodge at what looked to be a full run. Moments later, he brought the horse to an abrupt halt and dismounted, dropping the reins to the ground. The horse stayed put while Jack rushed toward the lodge and burst through the front door.

  "Flo! What's the problem?" he called out in a frantic voice. Then he caught sight of Grace in the wheelchair. He looked at her, baffled. "You okay?"

  "Yes. Why?"

  "Flo rang the bell."

  Grace couldn't help noticing Jack's chaps. With the leather side panels covering his hips, and the leg leathers snapped around the top of his thighs, and a leather strap cinched low on his belly, all that showed of his jeans was his crotch, which was noticeably displayed, as if framed by surrounding leather. "They're designed for easy access when nature calls," Jack said, catching the focus of her attention.

  "Actually, I was looking at your belt buckle," Grace said, while adjusting her gaze upward. "It has a bull on it."

  Jack smiled in a way that told her he was on to her, and said, "I got it at the National Finals Rodeo."

  "They you really are a bull rider," Grace said, remembering her thoughts when she'd first saw Jack at the fertility clinic. She'd only been speculating at the time.

  Jack looked at her oddly, and replied, "I used to be. This was my last ride. I decided to quit while I was ahead."

  "Then you did okay?" Grace asked.

  Jack shrugged. "Yeah, I did okay." He looked at Mei Ling, curled in the cat bed by the fire, purring contentedly while Ricky stroked her, and said, "What's Mei Ling doing in here?"

  "She got bored in the bedroom and decided to look over the place," Grace replied, realizing it was the first time Jack referred to Mei Ling by her name instead of the cat. She had no idea why it pleased her so, but it did.

  "She has to go back to the bedroom," Jack said. "That's why Flo rang the bell, and the last thing I need is her packi
ng up and leaving."

  "Fine then. Pick her up and take her to the bedroom."

  "Right." When Jack crouched to pick up Mei Ling, Ricky shoved his hand away, and said, "My cat. You go."

  "Oh shit," Jack said. He stood, and with his hands on his hips, looked down at Ricky and Mei Ling as if he hadn't a clue what to do next.

  "Shit," Ricky repeated, looking up at Jack.

  "No. you're not supposed to say that." Jack clamped his jaws shut and looked at Grace, who shrugged, and said, "Mei Ling's happy with her bed by the fire, and if you put her sky room by the front window she won't roam around the place, at least not much. She has no fleas, and she uses her scratching posts, and she likes sitting on the mantle."

  Jack looked down at Ricky, who continued to pet Mei Ling, and said, "I'll talk to Flo."

  "Thank you," Grace replied. "You'll make a little boy very happy, as well as the mother of your son."

  That seemed to catch Jack's attention. "Then you're resigned to it?"

  "I have no choice," Grace said. "It's fairly obvious you're his father since the baby I'm carrying is the size of a young Titan." She smiled.

  Jack didn't smile back. "That's not what I meant. I'm talking about you allowing the petition I filed to go unchallenged so I'll get my paternity rights and joint custody."

  Grace looked at Jack, whose face was dead sober, and said, "If I give you joint custody you'll have him half the time and he'll be constantly moved back and forth between my place and yours. I'm not sure I can live with that."

  "You're not getting him all to yourself," Jack said. "That's not an option. I'll fight you to the bitter end to get the right to have my son half the time. He's going to learn to ride a horse and shoot a rifle and run this ranch so someday it will be half his."

  "That's what terrifies me about letting you have joint custody," Grace said. "You're already planning his life. What if he doesn't want to run this ranch? What if he wants to live in the city? Or be a businessman? You're so set in your ways, your ways being the only ways, he won't have any choice but to do what you lay out for him. You're not a man a boy would challenge, at least not until he's as big as you, and even then he'll more than likely avoid it. I want our son to grow up to be a decent, morally upstanding man, but to be able to choose his own goals in life. It's not just about him being Jack Hansen Junior."

  Jack stared at her, the look on his face grim. Then he swallowed hard, and said, "He'll never be Jack Hansen Junior, but I will have joint custody."

  Grace glared at Jack. "Yes, I suppose you will," she clipped, "because I don’t have the money or the fight in me to go up against you." She turned the wheelchair and motored into the bedroom, slamming the door. There was no way she could stop Jack from getting joint custody because he'd fight as long as it took to succeed. He had the money, the resolve, and the determination to do it, and she felt exhausted just thinking about trying to stop him.

  The cross-stitching on the bedstand caught her eye. She'd placed it there when the men arrived with the wheelchair. She'd already stitched the building blocks and alphabet letters, but when she came to the line for the name, the name Marc was out. She wasn't carrying a Marc. She was carrying a Jack. She'd even stitched a "J" in anticipation of telling Jack she thought they should name their child after him since Jack would be the one welcoming his son into the world. But Jack made it clear, for whatever reason, that his child would not be named after him. But when she tried to think of another name for an overly large baby, who doggedly remained lying on her bladder, and whose big baby foot was determined to kick her navel out, the only name that seemed to fit was Jack.

  CHAPTER 5

  The rest of the week was a flurry of activity at the lodge. Sam and Jack were doing some work on their mother's house, which included installing new kitchen cabinets and adding a sunroom off the kitchen, which wouldn't be completed for another couple of months because the snow had slowed things down, and since Grace was in the room Maureen Hansen would have stayed in, Flo and Carlie, one of the kitchen help during the guest season, spent the week making ready a bedroom down the hallway from Grace, which had become a catchall over time. When Grace suggested to Jack that she return home, he was totally against it, claiming they'd have a room ready for his mother by the end of the week, so Grace set the idea aside for the moment.

  Grace tried to imagine what the woman who'd raised two such opposite twins would be like. If she was like Sam, she'd be adaptable and reasonable. But if she was like Jack, she could be difficult. Grace hadn't brought up the subject of returning to her house at the end of the week because Jack had been busy, but she would, before the day was done.

  Jack had been working horses or doing maintenance on the ranch until late each day, but he stopped in at night to visit for a few minutes. During that time, Grace found herself chattering about her family, and her childhood, and every milestone in her life, but after Jack left each night, she realized he'd deflected any questions she'd asked about his personal life. He'd talked about growing up on the ranch, and about losing his father in a car accident when his car skid on an icy road and hit a tree, five years before, but after almost two weeks, Grace still had no idea why, at age thirty-three, Jack wasn't married, and he'd made it clear the subject wasn't open for discussion. But today was Sunday, Flo and Carlie were gone, and after having no contractions for over a week, Grace had her fill of sitting in bed or motoring around the lodge in the wheelchair. The snow had melted off the sidewalks, the day was sunny, and she'd never seen Jack's house.

  After changing into her maternity sweats and a flannel top, she put on her down jacket and left through the front door of the lodge. She followed a concrete walkway that took her to Jack's house, which was a short distance from the lodge and directly across a gravel drive from Sam's house. Like Sam's house, Jack's was made of logs, but unlike Sam's, with its curtained windows and planter boxes and nice porch furniture, Jack's house showed no sign of a woman's touch. The windows were bare of curtains, and on the porch, beside a scuffed toolbox, were a couple pairs of boots that had been kicked off near the front door. She knocked, and when there was no response, she cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the window at a stark room with sparse furnishings, and saw a house both cheerless, and gloomy.

  It'll be good for him, having a boy around. He's a lonely man.

  But why? Grace wondered, and made a promise to herself to find out.

  Hearing nothing inside, she followed the wrap-around porch to the back of the house and saw, a little distance from the house, Jack crouched inside an area enclosed by an iron picket fence, which appeared from where she stood to be a private cemetery. Jack's father would be buried there. She didn't call to Jack, but waited. After a few more minutes, he stood and let himself out through a small iron gate, then started toward the house. She had a few seconds to watch before he looked up and saw her. His face was sad, and she was tempted to ask what was wrong. Then the sadness turned to concern as he approached, and said, "Is everything okay?"

  "Yes," Grace replied, "I was shack happy and had to get out."

  "Go back to the lodge," Jack said, while stepping onto the porch. "I'll come fix you lunch."

  "I want to see your house," Grace replied, as she headed for front of the house.

  "Not now. It's a mess," Jack replied.

  "I know," Grace said. "I looked in the window, but I want to see how the father of my unborn son lives."

  "It'll be different when he's here."

  "I'm sure it will be, but I'd like to get an idea of what it's like now," Grace said, moving to stand at the front door.

  "Just don't form any opinions," Jack said, then opened the front door for her to enter.

  As she stood looking around, Grace felt the sting of tears. The place was barren, devoid of warmth. And love. She had an urge to spend the day scrubbing floors and arranging furniture.

  "It's just a place to hang my hat," Jack said, as if in apology.

  "It's also where you
plan to house our son when he stays with you," Grace pointed out. "You can't bring a baby here, Jack. It's unsanitary. It doesn't look like you've cleaned in months."

  "Look, I'll get the place cleaned in time," Jack said. "I've been busy. I'll be hiring a cleaning woman to come in once a week. One bedroom's already a nursery."

  Grace eyed him with uncertainty. "I want to see it." Judging from the rest of the house, she couldn't imagine a room suitable for a baby.

  "It's just baby furniture right now," Jack said.

  Grace followed Jack down a hallway to a bedroom. Although bare of curtains, the room contained a crib, a changing table, a small dresser, a rocker, and a low stool. The furniture looked used, so she assumed Jack picked it up at a garage sale. "It's okay but you need to sponge it all off with disinfectant before you bring the baby here," she said, finding it odd that Jack hadn't bought new furniture, obsessive as he was about his unborn son.

  "It'll be ready by the time he's here," Jack replied.

  Grace sat in the rocker, and said, while rocking slowly, "You'll have to hire someone to look after him when he's here. You can't do it and run the ranch and I doubt Flo would be up to looking after a newborn."

  Jack stood watching her, an odd expression on his face she didn't try to make sense of. Jack was a complex man. Trying to interpret his state of mind from his facial expressions would defy the best psychologist. "You do intend to hire someone, don't you?" she asked, when he didn't reply.

  "I've got it worked out," Jack said. "We'll sell your house and I'll build you one here, and our son—"

  "He needs a name," Grace cut in. "We can't keep calling him our son, or the boy, or the baby. I don't think of him as Marc anymore, and you don't want to name him after you, for whatever reason, even though I think Jack junior would be nice."