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

by Watters, Patricia

  Jayne, catching his reaction, said with a worried frown, "What's wrong?"

  Sam eyed the woman who'd once been married to Jack, and who was standing not more than fifteen feet away and looking steadily at him, and said, "It's Jack's ex-wife, Lauren. She apparently waits tables here."

  "Then we should leave," Jayne said, in an anxious voice. "Your mother said she was friends with Susan. It could get back to Ricky."

  "Too late," Sam said. "She's coming to take our order."

  Jayne pulled her hand from his and rested it against her forehead and didn't look up as Lauren approached the table.

  "Hello, Sam," Lauren said. "I'm surprised to see you here." Her eyes shifted to Jayne, who sat with her hand shielding her face, head bent over the menu. "Are you ready to order?"

  "Yeah." Sam relayed to Lauren what they'd selected, aware that Jayne never looked up, which surprised him. Although it was awkward, there was no reason for her to feel uneasy. Lauren was nothing to Jack, or to the Hansen family, and the fact that she was one of Susan's cohorts didn't matter because Susan no longer mattered.

  "Are you finished with the menu?" Lauren asked Jayne.

  Jayne nodded, and without looking up, closed the menu and handed it to her. After Lauren left, Sam reached across the table and took Jayne's hand again, and said, "Don't let it put a damper on the evening, honey. We're here to enjoy the food and wine. If Lauren wants to report that to Susan, it doesn't matter."

  Jayne gave him a faltering smile, and said, "It's Ricky I'm thinking of."

  "Well, we're not screwing around so Lauren won't have anything to report to Susan."

  "Except that we're doing this." She removed her hand from his.

  The wine steward came with the wine, served some to Sam, who sampled it and approved, then poured it into their long-stemmed glasses and left.

  While sipping wine, and nibbling on French hors d'oeuvres, and waiting for their dinners to arrive, Sam tried to engage Jayne in conversation, but she seemed preoccupied. "What's going on?" he asked. "I've lost you."

  "I'm sorry," Jayne replied. She lifted the glass, and while holding the stem in a shaking hand, took a slow sip, then set the glass down, almost toppling it.

  Sam steadied the glass and took her hand. "Your hand's shaking again. Why?"

  Jayne gave a nervous laugh. "Like I said, you make my heart flutter and my hands shake."

  "I'm not buying any of this," Sam replied. "You weren't shaking when we came in. Is it Lauren?"

  Jayne shrugged. "It's awkward with her here. I'm tired of having to hold back with you. She's another example that maybe it isn't to be… us in a relationship."

  "I hope this will be more than a relationship," Sam said. "You know how I feel about you."

  "I know how you think you feel about me, Sam, but—"

  Jayne's words were cut off when Lauren came with their dinners and placed one plate in front of him, and the other in front of Jayne, who cupped her hand over her forehead and didn't look up. "Are you okay?" Sam asked, wondering if she had a headache. She'd been holding her hand against her head since they'd ordered.

  Jayne's eyes shifted to the side, and after Lauren walked off, she lowered her hand, raised her head, and said, "Just a little tired. It was a long day." She gave him an uncertain smile and picked up her fork, which was noticeably shaking in her hand.

  "Being tired doesn't cause shaking hands," Sam said, concerned. "When was the last time you had a physical?"

  "Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm fine. See." Jayne held out a stiff hand, palm down. For the moment it seemed stable, but when she lifted her fork, he saw a definite tremble again. It occurred to him that maybe she had some kind of palsy that she was trying to hide, an illness, something to do with having a baby, or maybe preventing her from having one because she was sick. The thought that this perfect, beautiful woman could be his for only a short time scared the hell out of him. "Honey, you're shaking and I'm worried. You've been wanting to tell me something, and if you have some kind of illness I'll take care of you, whatever it is."

  "I'm fine," Jayne said. Still, during the course of the meal, she dabbed at her food, keeping her head down, and what dialogue she had with him seemed forced.

  "It's Lauren, isn't it?" Sam said after a while, even though he'd told himself he'd back off. He nudged Jayne's wine glass toward her. "Drink some wine. It'll help you relax."

  Jayne gave him a half smile, and said, "You're right." But when she reached for the glass, she accidentally knocked it over, letting out a yelp and sending wine splashing across the table.

  Lauren was immediately at the table, cloth in hand, mopping up the mess, but when Jayne stood to get out of her way Lauren looked at her, rag paused in her hand, and said, "Rebecca? I thought maybe it was you. What are you doing here?"

  Jayne stared at Lauren, unblinking, and said in a wavering voice, "I... work at Sam's ranch."

  Lauren looked steadily at her, as she said, "Then you're doing okay now?"

  "Well, yes," Jayne replied. She turned to Sam. "I told you I was fine, but I've had a really bad headache all evening. Do you mind if we leave?"

  "Sure, honey," Sam replied, which brought an arched brow from Lauren.

  Sam squared away the bill, but while they were driving back to the ranch, he said, "You want to explain all that? How you happen to know Lauren?"

  "We worked at the... same restaurant when I was... working on my degree," Jayne replied, in a hesitant voice. "I didn't know her very well."

  "She called you Rebecca," Sam said. "Why?"

  Jayne shrugged. "I was still Rebecca back then."

  "How far back?" Sam asked, having a really bad feeling about this. Six years ago, Lauren was in prison.

  "Just a few years," Jayne replied.

  "You are aware she killed Jack's son, aren't you?"

  "Yes," Jayne said. "Your mother told me all about it."

  "Why did she ask if you were doing okay?" Sam asked. For the first time, he was beginning to have serious concerns about Jayne. He'd had a few initial misgivings, and questioned some of the entries on her resume, but it wasn't unusual for people to embellish resumes to make themselves look better.

  "I'm not sure why she asked," Jayne said. "Maybe because I was working and going to school and having trouble paying bills. I can't remember. I didn't know her long."

  …there is a lot you don't know about me, and I'm not ready to talk about it yet…

  Jayne's words kept playing over in his head. And the shaking hands? Not a serious illness, but nerves, maybe because Lauren knew something Jayne didn't want him to know.

  "Sam," Jayne said, after they'd driven several miles in silence, "if you have any questions about me just ask. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

  Sam felt her eyes on him. Serious. Sincere. Earnest eyes. He didn't have to look into them to know. She was laying it all out for him, and all he had to do was ask.

  Tell me about the baby. What happened? Why no relationships in eleven years?

  Maybe he was crazy like Brad said, or insane like Jack said, or maybe he was just an ostrich with his head in the sand, but he didn't intend to question her further. He wanted her for his wife, and he'd love her unconditionally. He reached over and covered her clasped hands with his and gave them a squeeze, and said, "No honey, I don't have any questions. If there's anything you want to tell me you can. If not, it's okay. We'll go from here."

  "Can we spend a little time at your place when we get back?" Jayne asked.

  Sam squeezed her hands, and replied, "We can spend as much time as you want. The whole night. Our time is ours. No kids. No ranch guests. Nothing but you, me, and whatever you want."

  She looked up at him, her face sober, and said, "I want to talk. There are things I need to tell you and they're not good, but you need to know them."

  Her voice was serious, so Sam knew their relationship could go no further until she shared whatever it was with him, though there was nothing she could tell him that
would change the way he felt about her. He also had the ring in his pocket, and before the night was done, the ring would be on her finger where it belonged, and Jayne would be where she belonged. In his bed, in his arms, and in his life. "Like I said, you can tell me anything you want, but that won't change the way I feel."

  Jayne sighed, and stared out the side window, and Sam braced himself for what it might be.

  They had just pulled up to his house, when Jack came rushing over from the direction of the stable and said, in an anxious voice, "Sasha's foaling and it's another bad presentation, and Roy's been called out on an emergency and can't come till later, and I need help now. Get changed and get on out there." He turned and headed for the stable in long strides.

  "Hell!" Sam said. "If it's not one damn thing it's another."

  Jayne covered his hand with hers, and said, "There's always later. I'll wait for you at your house and stay with you tonight, if you want."

  I already feel like the ranch tramp...

  He would put that ring on her finger before they made love again, but it wouldn't be after spending the night in a stall pulling a foal. "No, you go on back to the lodge. This mare always has problems so it's going to be a long night." He kissed her soundly and let her go.

  ***

  Jayne hadn't been alone with Sam for any length of time since the evening of the disastrous dinner, two days before. She saw him briefly the next morning, but he'd looked beat from a long night in the stable helping Jack deliver the foal, and by mid-morning on Sunday, the ranch was filled with guests again. With the ranch in full swing, she was so occupied, the only contact she had with Sam had been an occasional stolen kiss when no one was looking, or a squeeze of the arm as they passed each other going in opposite directions.

  But now, the addition to the winery was complete, so a special grand-opening wine tasting event was set up for ranch guests as well as people on wine-tasting outings or tours. Flo put together an assortment of cheeses and dips and imported crackers for the occasion, which Jayne insisted on taking to the winery herself as an excuse to see Sam, if only to be able to watch him from a distance while he served wine to the tasters. She was also anxious to talk to him. She wasn't sure when, but now it couldn't come soon enough. On their way back to the ranch from the restaurant, her intention had been to tell him everything first, and if he still loved her after that, it would be behind her and a life with Sam would stretch out before them, but if he had doubts about her as his wife, and a step-mother for Ricky, she was prepared to accept that too.

  Honey, if you have some kind of illness I'll take care of you, whatever it is...

  It scared her that Sam was so perfect, that he was willing to love her unconditionally. Even her parents hadn't done that. And someday she'd make things right by them. But Sam was ready to marry her and take care of her, even if she had a terminal illness. His was the kind of love one only dreamed of having.

  She joined the ranch guests who had gathered in the lodge for the wine tasting, then pulling a rubber-wheeled cart with trays of crackers, cheeses, dips and chips for the tasting, she led them to the winery by way of the newly poured sidewalk, to where Sam was waiting at the entry to greet them. It would be the first time she'd get to see Sam interact with people in an open and friendly way. Maureen mentioned he'd always been the more sociable of her boys, but until now, she hadn't seen that side of him. It occurred to her that maybe, for the first time in years, Sam was happy and she could be the reason. He affirmed that when he caught her eye and winked, between popping corks on wine bottles.

  It seemed like forever until the guests were finally done and funneling out of the winery, and heading for the lodge and gathering for dinner. Jayne hung back, determined to have at least five minutes alone with Sam. The last person had barely left when he took her arm and pulled her around so urgently she collided against him, then she clamped her arms around his neck and kissed him, a long, hard kiss that ended with Sam kissing her neck and the side of her face, and mumbling, "Honey, I love you and I'm going crazy." He kissed her again, and as their tongues teased and caressed and attempted to simulate what their bodies could not, it was all Jayne could do to keep from hauling Sam off to a dark corner for a repeat of what happened at the spring.

  "We still need to talk," Jayne said, after the kiss ended.

  Sam looked at her, soberly. "I'll ask Mom to help Ricky with his homework tonight. He likes going there because she gives him treats when he finishes an assignment. That'll give us a couple of hours, but you don't need to tell me anything."

  "Yes, I do."

  "Have it your way then, but it won't change the way I feel."

  After Sam kissed her soundly, Jayne turned and left the winery. As she approached the lodge, she noticed a big RV parked in the lot out front and wondered who it could be. They had no mid-week guests scheduled, and no one had called about renting one of the two RV spaces that were available. She did notice, however, that sitting on the front seat of the vehicle was a Welsh corgi, which made her a little sad. When she was growing up, they'd always had at least one corgi, but most of the time more than one.

  'A family isn't a family without a corgi,' she remembered her mother saying, soon after their old corgi died. Her mother had been pressing her father to get a puppy, and on a Sunday outing they ended up at a kennel, where her father spent two-hundred dollars for Clyde.

  As Jayne peered through the window on the passenger side of the RV and saw the big-eared dog peering back at her, hot tears filled her eyes. Clyde would be gone now, and she had no idea where her parents were, or her sister. Lydia would be twenty-two, and maybe married.

  Turning from the vehicle, she went into the lodge. Maureen met her at the check-in desk, and said, "There's a couple who appear to be looking for you, although they referred to you as Rebecca. They came in an RV. They say they're not staying, but just wanted to talk to you."

  Jayne's eyes shifted anxiously around the room, coming to rest on a middle-aged couple, who were standing near the fireplace and looking directly at her. For a few moments she was too stunned to move, the sight of her parents, eleven years older, catching her off guard—her small, Filipino mother, hair peppered with gray, hands clasped in front of her, her father, lines of worry etched on his face, his arm around her mother's shoulders.

  Unaware of anything around her but the two people she'd disappointed most, she started towards them and stopped before she was close enough to make things awkward. Would they want to put everything behind and hug her? Did she deserve for them to put it all behind and take her in their arms? Could they ever forgive her for what she must have put them through?

  "Hello Mom... Dad," she said, in a voice she almost didn't recognize as her own.

  Her mother unclasped her hands, but left them at her sides, fingers curved into fists as if wanting to make sure she didn't reach out to the girl who had caused them so much grief, and said, "Hello, Becky. You look well."

  Jayne forced a smile. "So do you." She looked at her father. "And you too, Dad."

  "Then you work here?" her mother asked, in a tone that might have been a guest carrying on a polite conversation with another guest.

  "Yes," Jayne replied. "I'm the guest ranch manager, or maybe you already know that." She looked from one to the other. "How did you know where I was?"

  "Your father hired a private investigator," her mother replied.

  Jayne stared for a few moments, surprised that her father had gone to that length to find her, for whatever reason. "I suppose you know everything."

  Her mother's face grew cynical, then her eyes softened as she said, "Yes, we know. We wouldn't have come here where you work, but we thought you should know that we have your daughter. That is, Lydia has her right now."

  Jayne felt like her lungs had collapsed and there wasn't enough air in the room to fill them, and her heart was pounding so hard she felt as if it might explode. Sucking in a long, deep breath to steady the rapid beating of her heart, she said, "How
did you get her?"

  "Her adoptive grandmother brought her to us. Her mother has MS and was recently moved into a residence that provides skilled care, and her grandmother lives in a retirement community. Since it was an open adoption, they asked if we could take her back. Lydia's willing to keep her, but she's newly married, and she and her husband, Denny, should not have to take on a ten-year-old child."

  Jayne's legs felt so weak, she had to sit down. But after she pulled herself together, she said, "Lydia won't have to take care of her. I never wanted to give her up, but I had no choice. Where is her adoptive father?"

  "He died when she was very young," her mother said.

  Jayne had so many questions she didn't know where to begin. "What does she look like? Is she healthy and happy? Is she in school? What is she like? Does she ask about me?"

  Jayne's mother sat on a chair adjacent to Jayne, but her father continued to stand. Neither of her parents gave any indication that they wanted her back in their lives, and she understood. But they did have her daughter, a child Jayne held in her arms for less than five minutes, and in her heart for ten long empty years. The thought of having her little girl back made life seem again worthwhile...

  Her mother said, "She looks very much like you did at that age, with little of her father in her, I suppose, though I don't remember much about him." The words were brusque. Angry.

  Jayne tried to forget what Vince looked like over the years but couldn't. He was every teenage girl's dream and every parents' nightmare for their daughter. The drop-dead-handsome bad boy. The guy who made girls’ hearts skip beats, who promised them heaven and delivered them hell. "I plan to make things right," she said. "I've been putting money away each month with the idea of paying back what Vince charged on your credit card. I have almost a thousand dollars saved now."

  "It doesn't matter," Jayne's father replied. "I took care of it a long time ago."

  "Yes, it does matter," Jayne said. "I'm going to pay back everything. That's why I never contacted you. It may take a little longer now though with..." she stopped short. "What's my daughter's name?"