She felt trapped. Divorce was shameful, unheard of. Most people tended to blame a soured marriage on the wife. Chad would probably come out of it untouched by the scandal. After all, her family was the one with money, and people loved to gossip about the rich. All kinds of stories would circulate, none of them good, about how the poor, hard-working Chad Jacobs had not been good enough for a Kirkland. Or perhaps his wife was a cold fish who didn’t know how to please a man. Was she? She had tried so hard to love him, had never turned him away, had overlooked painful infidelities. Who would understand the agonizing memories she suffered over her wedding night? Even if she managed to tell the truth about her husband, people would smirk and whisper and maybe even pity her. Pity was to her as unbearable as vicious gossip.
Either way, she would suffer. Her family was already too much in the limelight. What would normally be simply shameful in getting a divorce would only be magnified tenfold.
Besides, there was her determination not to fail. Maybe this horrible event would set Chad on the straight and narrow at last. It would take her months, maybe years, to forgive him, if he should be repentant and stay in his own bed. But it seemed possible, if only she could believe the terrible sorrow in his eyes. She could not imagine he could have no feelings about losing the baby. He had truly seemed to be in considerable grief, had cried when he told her about the baby’s funeral, how beautiful it was, what a lovely headstone he had erected at the little grave.
How much was a wife expected to put up with? She had made vows, for better or for worse. But her marriage couldn’t get much worse than this. Chad had begged her forgiveness, had told her it had been only a recent affair, had admitted he had been weak, that he had let Milicent go, that it would never happen again. He had carried on about how Irene was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had tried to explain there were certain things she had to understand about men, that many husbands strayed, but only because they didn’t want to impose upon their wives, that it was hard for a proper woman to respond to a man as often as he needed her to. He had told her it was different for men than it was for women, that his infidelities had been to spare her, that he always meant to keep them discreet and would never deliberately hurt her.
It was only the very last statement that she believed—that he truly never meant to hurt her. But hurt her he had, and she could not help feeling an engulfing sorrow, that somehow she must have failed her own marriage. She felt empty, numb, sick. She had no baby feeding at her breast, nothing left to love.
Tonight everyone she knew was happy and celebrating. She could understand her parents’ responsibility to be at the mansion. What hurt was she knew Chad was at that party, probably putting on a show of great sorrow, but celebrating, nonetheless, flashing his charming smile at women, winning their devoted sympathy.
Again, in her hour of real need, he was not here. Again, he had left her with another ugly memory, only to let her wrestle with it alone, in secret agony, just as on their wedding night.
The loss of a baby was something a husband and wife should share quietly, together. They should be able to draw strength from each other, but she felt nothing from Chad, and she had nothing to give in return. It was impossible to believe everything he told her. He resembled a shell, beautiful to look at from the outside, but empty inside.
The agony of her situation, and the terrible loss of the child, again brought on a wave of bitter sobbing. Life hardly seemed worth living now, and she could understand how easy suicide might be after all. Had Susan Stanner felt this desperate, this trapped, this alone?
She sensed someone come into the room then, but her back was to the door. In the next moment a hand touched her shoulder. “I hope I do not overstep my bounds by coming to see you, mi querida,” she heard Ramon’s voice say. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”
She turned, hardly able to see him for the tears. “Ramon,” she whispered. She was in a private room, and no one else was around. He leaned down and scooped her into his arms, moving to sit on the bed while she wept against his shoulder.
Ramon was here! Always it was Ramon who gave her the comfort her husband should be giving her. He had heard of her loss, and he had come. He had lost a son. He understood.
“You must cry,” he whispered. “Cry and cry and let it all go.” He stroked her hair. “And then you must turn to God. Only the Christ can bring you the comfort you need. He understands all things, and when you feel unloved, He is there to love you.”
She did not care if it was right or wrong. Ramon was here and Chad was not. She needed desperately to be held, to feel the strength and genuine love of a man who loved her. “Don’t let go, Ramon,” she sobbed. “Don’t let go.”
“I am here. I will not leave until you have wept away all the sorrow.”
She clung to his strong arms, let him cradle her, rested against his powerful chest, drew strength and comfort from their poignant, unique friendship. Ramon was here, and although they could not speak of it, she knew he still loved her more than her husband ever could.
There was nothing more to say. He knew no other words could comfort her, just as words could not comfort him when he had lost his wife and son. He simply held her until there were no more tears to cry, listened with horror to her mumbled story of how it had happened, laid her back down, held her hands until she finally slept, stayed by her side until the break of dawn.
He quietly left her, too angry to feel the aching weariness he should be feeling. The streets were quiet, most people sleeping off a heavy drunk from the celebrations. Ramon climbed on his horse and headed for Kirkland Hills and the Jacobses’ home. He had something to settle with Chad Jacobs.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chad stirred at the sound of Jenny Porter’s voice. “Sir, you can’t go in there! Mr. Jacobs is sleeping.” “Just show me where his room is,” he heard someone answer. “Do it, or I will barge into every room until I find him!” It almost sounded like Ramon Vallejo. Chad frowned, starting to sit up as he heard the voices come closer. The door suddenly burst open, and Chad pulled a sheet over his nakedness while Jenny reddened and turned away.
“I couldn’t stop him, Mr. Jacobs,” she said, as Ramon stood glaring at Chad. Totally confused by Ramon’s sudden animosity, Chad told her to leave and close the door. The woman obeyed, and Chad stared back at Ramon.
“What the hell is this?” he asked. “I thought we were friends, Ramon. What are you doing here this hour of the morning?”
He rubbed his eyes as Ramon stepped closer. “The question is, why are you not at the hospital with your wife?” Ramon answered.
Chad frowned, an odd alarm sounding in his head. He threw the sheet aside and began pulling on his long johns. Ramon almost felt sick at the thought of the man’s naked body moving over Irene’s, confessing love, making her pregnant, while at the same time he slept with other women.
“What the hell does it matter to you whether or not I’m with Irene?” Chad answered, rising to pull up his underwear. He faced Ramon, his hands on his hips. “Irene has lost a baby, and she’s in a pretty bad way. She asked me to leave. She wants to be alone.”
“No woman wants to be alone at a time like this. Maybe you should tell me the real reason she does not want you there!”
Chad’s face began to darken with anger, his defenses rising. “What’s this all about? Matters between my wife and me are none of your damn business, Ramon!”
“I happened to be at the hospital and found out she was there. I went to see her, as an old friend. I found her crying so hard she was making herself even sicker. She was alone, alone at a time when a woman suffers such sorrow she would like to die! It is dangerous to leave a woman alone at such a time. She feels she has nothing left to live for.”
Chad watched his eyes, man to man. One thing he knew how to read in anyone’s eyes was passion, and he saw it in Ramon’s eyes. He dropped his hands to his sides, forming fists. “I thought you and Irene were just casual acqu
aintances. What the hell are you doing here sticking your nose into our private affairs?”
“I care very much about Irene! She and John were my good friends once. Perhaps she did not tell you we were close, because I am Mexican, and she feared it would sound bad. You know how Irene is. She is open to everyone. She is not prejudiced like so many others. Last night I sat with her because she needed the company, and in her terrible sorrow she told me the truth!” He watched Chad redden. “I know the real reason why she lost the baby, and I am here to tell you that if you hurt her so badly again, I will kill you!”
Bitter anger darkened Chad’s gray eyes, and he stepped closer. “It’s none of your damn business,” he snarled. “And Irene had no right telling you! I’m beginning to wonder about this friendship you supposedly shared. What the hell went on between you and Irene that I don’t know about? What happened back before we met? If you fucked her—”
Chad was not allowed to finish the statement. A hard fist landed into his gut, and another blow cracked against his cheekbone and sent him sprawling back across the bed. Chad saw only a blur as Ramon leaned over him, his dark eyes on fire.
“I would expect filth like you to think the worst,” he growled. “Maybe because that is where your dirty mind is always groveling! I have never touched your woman. I am not the kind of scum you are! I do not go around fucking innocent virgins and married women!” He stood up straighter, his fist aching, his breath coming in pants of anger.
Chad rolled to his side, putting a hand to his cheek, then sitting up. His steely gray eyes watched Ramon. “I might remind you that I got you a start in this town. I can finish you just as easily!”
“Your threats do not worry me,” Ramon answered. “Or the threats of your mother-in-law! Do you think I don’t know who was behind the takeover of Hacienda del Sur? You had better remember that I also have good friends in high places. I am gaining my own power. Threaten me all you want, Chad Jacobs, but if you try to ruin me in this town, everyone, including Bea Kirkland, will know the truth about you! I will make sure of it!”
Chad glared at him, hating Irene for telling Ramon, of all people, what had happened. “You bastard,” he mumbled. “I called you friend. I really liked you, Ramon.”
“I am not the one who changed that. You did. You had the chance to have the world in your hands—everything a man could ask for—and you threw it all away because you cannot keep your pants closed! You are weak, and you are too stupid to realize you have the best woman a man could ever want!”
“Irene had no right—”
“Irene has no idea I am here, and I don’t even think she realized what she told me. She was practically delirious with grief. I am only here to warn you that you had better start being the husband she deserves, or it is not I who will be ruined in this town. It will be you, and I do not think you want to lose your position with the Kirkland empire! We both know that is the only reason you married Irene. A man like you could have had any woman he wanted!”
Chad slowly rose, still rubbing at his cheek, his stomach on fire. “Get out of my house. I won’t have a Mexican coming in here ordering me around!”
“Apparently you need someone to tell you what to do! You have not done a very good job on your own!” Ramon’s booted foot came up hard, landing in Chad’s groin. Chad cried out and went to his knees, then rolled to his side. “Cabrón!” Ramon called him bastard before storming out.
Chad moved gingerly when he disembarked the buggy, a sickening ache still plaguing his groin. He could hide the inner wounds, but he couldn’t hide the deepening bruise on his left cheek. He decided he would explain that he had gone off riding alone this morning, that his horse-had stepped in a hole and thrown him against a fencepost. Bea would swallow the story. She believed everything he told her. Being thrown would also explain why he walked more slowly.
He entered the hospital, feelings of rage and curiosity engulfing him. Why had Irene told Ramon, of all people? What was there between them that he didn’t know about? There was no doubt that Irene had been a virgin when he married her. That was a fact no one could dispute. He didn’t really even doubt her loyalty since then, but now that she knew about his affair with Milicent, perhaps she would change.
She had been working closely with Ramon on the church project. He didn’t like that. It was obvious the casual friendship they had once shared might be turning into something more, and he was not about to be outdone by a Mexican, not by any man, for that matter.
His fragile ego had been damaged, his manhood threatened. He couldn’t lose Irene, for she represented respect, wealth. She was his proof that he was a fine man, a settled man, a man of honor. He needed Irene to show that he was all the things people expected him to be, and he was not about to give up the Kirkland power and prestige. If Irene left him, telling everyone the truth, he would lose everything. And if he left Irene, claiming she was in love with a Mexican man, Bea would never forgive him for dragging her name through the mud. He would still lose everything.
He had to find a way to keep the marriage together, a way to hang onto Irene. If he ever lost her, it had to be in some way that would leave him looking innocent, some way that would at least keep him on good terms with Bea and keep him employed at Kirkland Enterprises.
He climbed the stairs to Irene’s room, wondering if, after all, Irene was not the perfect, unstained woman he thought she was. Maybe there was a reason she was so unresponsive in bed. Maybe it was because she had another man on the side.
Ramon? He could not imagine it. Maybe when she was younger, she had had a fancy for the man. He stopped short at the door. Of course! And he was willing to wager that Bea Kirkland knew about it. That would explain Bea’s vehement dislike for Ramon. That would explain why she stole his grandfather’s property, why she was always uncomfortable talking about him in front of Chad. Maybe that was why she pushed so hard for them to get married as soon as possible, why she was upset when Chad chose Ramon to build their house.
He quietly opened the door. Irene was asleep. He closed the door and watched her for a while. He could not imagine Irene being untrue to him. It just didn’t fit her. No, he decided, nothing had happened…yet. And he was not about to let it happen. No Mexican was going to move in on his territory—and no man was going to show his wife a better time in bed than he could. Old fears of inadequacy surfaced, bringing on near panic. Was it possible he could only please a woman when sin and lust and contempt for the women he bedded were involved? He felt none of those things for Irene, and in return, his rousts in bed with her had never been satisfying—not for him, and certainly not for her. He could tell when a woman was enjoying it, and Irene had never responded the way other women did.
He stepped closer, studying her pale, sad face. The key to saving his marriage, he decided, was to get her out of Denver for a while, away from Ramon. He had to convince her he was totally repentant and would cheat on her no more—and he had to get her pregnant again. She needed a baby to take the place of the one she had lost, and he needed it to prove he was still a man, to prove that the marriage was solid.
Irene stirred, opening her eyes to see him standing there watching her. “Now you come,” she said weakly. She closed her eyes and turned onto her back. “Did you have a good time celebrating, while your little girl lies in her grave?”
For a moment, flashes of his mother moved through his mind. Was it possible for Irene to be like that, to lie with other men? No, not Irene. She couldn’t do that to him. “I hear you had all the company you needed,” he said aloud, anger in his voice.
Irene looked at him again, noticing then the swelling bruise on his cheek. “What happened?” Her eyebrows arched. “Did Ramon do that to you?” She could not help feeling a secret joy, but she was afraid for the consequences this could bring Ramon. Still, Chad had to realize that if he tried to ruin Ramon, Ramon could do the same to Chad.
He stepped closer, his jaw flexing in anger. “What the hell did you think you were doing, telling
Ramon our intimate problems? Just what kind of relationship do you have with that man?”
She stiffened. “If he hit you, you deserved it,” she answered, her eyes suddenly cold. He had never seen such a look in her eyes. “And to answer your question, Ramon and I are just good friends. We always have been. I just never told you the extent of it because I was afraid you wouldn’t understand, which I can see you don’t. In your mind you think a woman can’t be good friends with a man without going to bed with him!” She closed her eyes again. “You know good and well I’ve never done such a thing. Take a good look at yourself, Chad Jacobs, before you go pointing any fingers at me!”
Chad decided the conversation was not going as he’d planned. He changed the subject. “We’re going away, Irene, as soon as you’re well.”
She watched him, saw his strange nervousness, the look of a little boy afraid of losing his favorite toy. “Going away? Where?”
“South. Your mother has been after me to go down to Colorado Springs and drum up more business. Now there’s a silver strike. We have all kinds of reasons to go.”
“What are you running from, Chad? Yourself? Ramon? Ramon is no threat to our marriage. You are.”
His eyes flashed their anger. “I told you I was sorry, Irene. It won’t happen again. We’ll go to Colorado Springs, and we’ll start over. Maybe you’ll even get pregnant again.”
“Right now I can’t bear the thought of you touching me.”
The words stabbed at his fear of sexual failure. “Don’t say that!” He came closer and grasped her arms, and she was shocked at the obvious fear in his gray eyes. “After a while, everything will be all right. Don’t turn me away, Irene. Don’t do this to me.”
In the Shadow of the Mountains Page 48
