A Sweet Life-kindle

by Andre, Bella

“He’ll come around, Delaney,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Sure he will,” she responded. But she wasn’t so sure.

  Isaiah didn’t know about Boise.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  LIFE AT THE RUNNING Y was peaceful enough during the next few weeks. Conner left before Delaney woke in the mornings, stayed out on the ranch most of the day, then buried himself in his office at night, working until ten, eleven, sometimes twelve o’clock. Delaney tried to get involved in his work so she could relieve some of the pressure. She knew he’d purchased the ranch from his family, understood that he was fighting desperately to save the home he loved. But he insisted everything was fine and wouldn’t share his burdens with her. If she asked what was on his mind, he’d say nothing or tell her not to worry. That was it.

  So she turned her attention to cleaning blinds and baseboards and organizing closets, since Dottie was back to manage the kitchen and the chickens, dogs and goats. If Conner wasn’t going to let her share his load or give her any responsibilities, she’d find some other way to make herself useful.

  But soon every nook and cranny in the whole house was sparkling clean, and she had nothing to do but plant a garden. Dottie’s knees bothered her; she couldn’t bend and weed or plant, so Delaney gratefully took over the small plot of earth just outside the back door and spent a great deal of time reading books about gardening. As the days of June passed and the baby’s movements became more obvious, she planted tomatoes, corn and zucchini, peas and carrots, and some bulb flowers she’d found for sale in a magazine—dahlias she’d ordered from Denmark. All the while, she hoped that once Conner grew used to her presence, used to the idea of having a wife, he’d let go of the grudge he held against her.

  But he remained as aloof and reserved as the day she’d married him. He was still coming to her at night. He made love to her often and was gentle and kind and generous during those times. But when morning came, he gave the ranch everything he had without sparing so much as a thought for her.

  With a sigh, Delaney rocked back on her heels. A strand of hair had fallen from the sloppy knot on top of her head and tickled her face, but her hands were covered with dirt, so she shoved the stand back with a forearm. She’d been planting since just after breakfast, and her garden was growing—but so was her belly, which made it difficult to bend over for long.

  “Don’t overdo,” Dottie called, passing by as she threw last night’s table scraps to Champ and Sundance. Delaney had fenced them out of her garden with three-foot wire.

  “I’m not,” Delaney replied, but she had to pause a little longer to ease the ache in her back.

  “Rebecca called,” Dottie said. “She told me she’s planting watermelons with you today.”

  Delaney smiled. Rebecca had never planted anything in her life, not even a small garden like the one Delaney had weeded for Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph when she was a teenager, but she’d thrown herself into Delaney’s new love with unexpected enthusiasm. She came out to the ranch often, and together they weeded and planted. Or Delaney met her in town and they went to Boise to buy Rebecca’s wedding dress, search for the perfect bridal bouquet or gather ideas for the caterers.

  “Did she say if she had to work later?” Delaney asked. “I’m afraid not. But she said she’s found something else for the nursery. You want me to bring you the cordless phone so you can call her back?”

  “No, she’ll be here soon. But thanks.”

  The screen door slammed shut and Dottie disappeared, leaving Delaney alone in the mellow midday sun. A butterfly hovered at the end of the row of peas Delaney was planting, and Sundance and Champ barked and growled in the grass not far away, wrestling over the beef bones Dottie had given them. But neither the peacefulness of such a lovely setting nor the knowledge that Rebecca was on her way could lift Delaney’s spirits. She had another doctor’s appointment at four o’clock and had made a point of asking Conner, once again, to accompany her. He’d mumbled something noncommittal and left the house early, and since she hadn’t heard any more, she doubted he planned to join her. Again.

  Oh well, she told herself, trying to be positive. Her marriage wasn’t perfect, but things could be a lot worse. She’d known when she said “I do” that Conner didn’t love her. Had she really expected that to change?

  Deep down, she must have, she realized. She’d probably been trying to live the “happily ever after” fairy tale every woman dreams about. But Conner made a poor Prince Charming. He was good in bed, but Delaney was learning that she needed more.

  In any case, Rebecca would go to the doctor’s with her. And maybe while they were in Boise, they’d find a good price on a car seat at some second-hand store.

  Bending over her work, she managed to finish the row she was working on before the screen door swung open again and Rebecca strode into the yard. Sundance and Champ barked and wagged their tails, and Rebecca patted heads and rubbed ears and let the dogs lick her fingers. But when she turned to Delaney, her usual smile was strained, and it struck Delaney that her friend had lost weight.

  “Are you feeling okay?” she asked. “Sure. Why?”

  “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

  “Nothing,” she said impatiently, her initial smile replaced by a look of irritation.

  “Rebecca—”

  “I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.” She shrugged. “Why?”

  “Come on, let’s plant,” Rebecca said. “I brought some watermelon seeds. Late summer isn’t anything if there’s no watermelon.”

  Delaney used the shovel at her side to help her stand. “Is it Buddy? Are you two having problems?”

  “Not exactly,” Rebecca said. “Then, what exactly is it?”

  “He wants to postpone the wedding again.”

  “Why?”

  “He said his mother wants to attend. She lives in Georgia and can’t come until August.”

  “But that’s a good thing, right?”

  “I don’t know. I think he’s scared.”

  “Wouldn’t he tell you if he was scared? Maybe he just wants his mother there, like he said.”

  “Maybe.” Rebecca pulled a small bag of seeds from her pocket and tore open the top. “Do you really think we can grow these things from scratch? I mean, maybe I should’ve bought little seedlings we could transplant, so they’d have a better chance of surviving.”

  Delaney propped her hands on her hips. “The seeds will work just fine. Quit trying to change the subject.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Rebecca snapped.

  “You’re miserable out here, yet you won’t ever talk about that. Why should I spill my guts?”

  Delaney blinked in surprise. “I’m not miserable. I love the ranch. And I’m excited about the baby.”

  “That might be true, but something’s making you unhappy.”

  Delaney opened her mouth to deny it, then changed her mind. What was the use? Rebecca knew her too well. “My husband ignores me all day. He’s generally polite when I see him—if he acknowledges me. And he’s great in bed. But he doesn’t care about me enough to seek my opinion on anything. He doesn’t trust me enough to let me help him. He never needs me except for a little warmth at night. And he won’t take two hours off work to come to the doctor with me. Is that what you want to hear?”

  Rebecca’s eyes narrowed at this revelation, and she began to scan the surrounding hills, as though she’d take Conner on right now if she could find him. “I’m going to have a talk with him.”

  “No, you’re not. That’s precisely why I’ve kept my feelings to myself. I don’t want him to start being solicitous because he feels he isn’t measuring up. I think he’s busy trying to prove something to himself right now, though I’m not really sure what that is. Anyway, he has pretty big plans for the ranch, and I want to give him the space he needs to succeed. And if he ever comes to care about me, I want him to do it on his own, okay? Love isn’t something we can force.”

 
Rebecca tapped her foot, obviously thinking this over, but not making any promises.

  “Tell me you’ll leave him alone and you won’t say anything,” Delaney insisted.

  “Oh, all right. If that’s what you want. For now,” she relented.

  “That’s what I want.” Delaney wiped the perspiration from her forehead and let herself out the makeshift gate. Then she pulled Rebecca down next to her on the back steps. “Have you ever thought that maybe you and Buddy aren’t really right for each other?” she asked.

  “What? We’re in love. Of course we’re right for each other.” She thrust a hand through her hair—hair she’d bleached blond for the summer and cut into a messy style reminiscent of Meg Ryan’s. It suited her much better than the red ever did, made her look younger, more carefree, and highlighted the fine bone structure of her face. “I’m out of here in two months.”

  Delaney gathered the folds of her loose cotton dress around her ankles. “See? You’re ‘out of here in two months.’ That’s what has me worried. Is Buddy the man of your dreams, or a ticket out?”

  Rebecca scratched Sundance, who immediately laid his large head in her lap and gave a few grateful whines. “He’s both.”

  Delaney tried to read Rebecca’s face while fending off Champ. Was she right to push this subject? Maybe it was none of her business. Maybe she needed to let Rebecca make her own choices.

  “Well, two months aren’t going to make much difference in the long run, then, is it?” she said.

  Rebecca lowered her forehead to meet Sundance’s. “Just as long as he doesn’t put it off again.”

  CONNER STARED at his sleeping wife. Sometimes she was simply too beautiful to touch. He’d stand in the shadows of the room and watch her sleep, and think about the way she welcomed him into her arms every night, how she’d smile and press his hand to her belly when their child moved, how good she smelled when she cuddled up to him—and he wished he could breach the barrier between them.

  But something inside made him hold back, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t let go.

  Part of it was fear. If he loved Delaney as much as he knew he could, he’d have even more to lose than the ranch, and the voice in his head told him he’d already risked enough. He’d probably fail and she’d leave him, anyway. Why up the ante? And yet, for the first time in Conner’s life, happiness seemed so close. If only he could...

  He must have made a noise, or perhaps Delaney sensed his presence, because she stirred and opened her eyes. “Conner? What are you doing? Aren’t you coming to bed?”

  He felt the familiar desire in his gut, was amazed at how badly he always wanted her. “Yeah, I’m coming,” he said, and started peeling off his clothes. It was okay, he told himself. He just needed to feel her against him. He wouldn’t love her. He wouldn’t give any more of his heart.

  IN THE LIGHT seeping around the door from the hall, Delaney watched Conner dress for work. He’d made love to her twice last night, passionately, his fervor almost all-consuming, even though she knew he had to be exhausted from the long hours he’d worked. But he wouldn’t open up, wouldn’t really talk to her or share himself with her, and loneliness settled over Delaney as completely as it had before he’d come to bed.

  “Why don’t you sleep in once in a while?” she asked.

  Or tell me you’d at least like to stay with me.

  He tossed her a sexy grin while stepping into his jeans, but she could tell that his mind was already on something else, something that haunted him. “Didn’t you get enough last night?” he teased.

  Sex again. It was his out, his way of avoiding anything deeper. “You work too hard,” she said, not knowing how to reach him.

  “Everything’s going well. Josh and I have managed to raise the money we need to fund the resort. We’ve already signed all the agreements and have had an architect draw up the plans—”

  “What about me? Don’t I get to see them?” He shrugged. “Sure, if you want to.”

  “When will you be breaking ground?”

  “By the end of the summer, if we can get our engineering done in time.”

  “That sounds great.” She waited, hoping he’d offer more, but he didn’t.

  “Have you talked to your uncles lately?” she asked, reluctant to see him walk out the door because she knew she wouldn’t have any time with him again until nightfall.

  “Not lately.”

  “Do they know what you’re doing?”

  “Yeah.” He yanked on his boots. “They don’t think it’ll work.”

  “Do you?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  But Delaney doubted the smile he flashed at her went much below the surface. And she couldn’t help wondering if his confidence reached any deeper.

  “HOW’S THAT BABY?” Aunt Millie asked.

  Delaney rested the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could finish tying her shoes. “Getting big. I’m feeling like a cow and waddling like a duck. Those are good signs, from what I hear.”

  “You can’t be waddling too much. You haven’t gained enough weight.”

  “My doctor said the bulk of the weight generally goes on between the fifth month and the end, so I should still be okay.”

  “You are in your fifth month.”

  “I know. I’m just saying there’s still time.”

  “How’s Conner treating you?”

  “Very well,” Delaney said, keeping up the front she’d established right from the beginning. She didn’t want to start the whole town talking about their marital problems. And, in a way, she felt that she deserved whatever she got because of what she’d done to put herself in this situation.

  “How’s Uncle Ralph?”

  “Good. You two coming for dinner on Sunday?”

  Delaney thought about the weekends and how Conner worked through every one of them. “Conner might be busy,” she said.

  “Again?”

  “He’s trying to build that resort, you know.”

  “So?”

  “That’s not an easy thing to do.”

  “Well, you’ll come, won’t you? I don’t like you staying out there by yourself all the time.”

  “I’m not by myself. Dottie’s here. And I’m busy with my garden.”

  “Are you missing your job at the library?”

  “A little.”

  “I talked to Dave Small on the city council. He didn’t seem to think it’d be a problem for you to return once they open, now that you’re married and all.”

  “I’m pretty settled out here with my garden and helping around the house. I don’t think I’ll go back until the baby gets a little older.”

  “I just wanted you to know it’s an option.”

  “Thanks. Can I bring Rebecca to dinner with me?”

  Aunt Millie paused, but she didn’t say any of the things she would’ve said only months before. Rebecca had redeemed herself—partially—by doing Millie’s hair for the wedding and giving her the kind of set she claimed no one else had ever been able to achieve. Now Rebecca was her regular hairdresser, and the fact that she went to Aunt Millie’s place once a week to get the job done had helped soften the old woman’s heart even more.

  “Fine,” she said at last. “Rebecca’s not as bad as she used to be.”

  Rebecca had never been “bad.” But her sweeter side was still one of the best-kept secrets in town.

  “Rebecca’s great,” Delaney said, and smiled, thinking of the cradle her friend had painstakingly refinished for her, insisting that in her condition, Delaney couldn’t be exposed to the fumes. “See you later.”

  WHY WASN’T CONNER HOME YET?

  Delaney paced in front of the fire, feeling tension knot the muscles in her neck and shoulders. She stretched, trying to work out the kinks, and took another sip of the herbal tea she carried in one hand. But the stiffness wouldn’t ease, and neither would her worry. Roy and the others had arrived at the house hours ago. When they’d left to go to the Honky Tonk at ei
ght, they’d assured her Conner was on his way. But he’d never appeared, and she was beginning to wonder if something had happened to him. He put in long days, but he generally spent the hours after dark in his study, not outside on the range.

  She wished Dottie were around to reassure her. She liked the stalwart older lady, knew she could trust her advice and her devotion to Conner. But Dottie had headed into town about the same time as the ranch hands, to stay with her son and daughter-in-law for the weekend, as she usually did. Delaney was alone. Even Rebecca wasn’t answering her phone; Delaney had tried to reach her several times.

  What now? she wondered, glancing nervously at the clock and cringing to see that it was nearly midnight. Should she call the police?

  No. What if Conner had simply gone into town without telling her? He didn’t exactly give her a detailed rundown of his activities. But she’d checked the vehicles. Those she recognized were still in the drive. Could he have caught a ride with Roy and the others and forgotten to tell her?

  She hated the thought that he might have joined the hands at the Honky Tonk instead of spending time with her, hated the thought of him drinking and dancing while she paced a hole in the carpet. But that was the most likely explanation, which meant she shouldn’t bother the police. Pivoting at the end of the Navajo-style rug that covered the hardwood floor, she rubbed her arms to ward off the chill settling deep in her bones and told herself that her husband would come strolling in any second.

  But he didn’t. The minutes continued to tick by. Finally Delaney called Directory Assistance to get the Honky Tonk’s phone number, and dialed the bar.

  “’Lo?” A gruff male voice answered. It had to be Bear, the weekend bartender. Music blared in the background, partially drowned out by raucous laughter and voices.

  “Bear?”

  “Yeah, who’s this?”

  “Delaney Armstrong. Is my husband there?”

  “Haven’t seen him, but hang on, let me check.” He covered the receiver, but Delaney could still hear him when he shouted “Conner Armstrong here?”