LAYING HIS CLAIM

by Beverly Barton

  With Christa's spring break from school beginning, Brenda Farrell had arranged for them to arrive in Prospect this Friday evening and stay for nine whole days. Kate could hardly wait. She had come into town the day before and spent the entire day today preparing the house on Madison for their guests' arrival. Trent had joined her for dinner last night and they'd ended the evening by making love. Each time they were together it became harder and harder to stop herself from telling him how much she loved him.

  Before he'd left that morning, he'd made a request. "I'd like to stay here with you and Christa during this visit."

  "You're welcome to stay, but you can't sleep with me," she'd told him, only halfway joking. "I don't think Brenda would approve. She's the old-fashioned type."

  "I'll sleep on the porch if I have to," he said. "I just want to be here with you and our daughter. We've lost so many years. I don't want to lose another minute."

  "Oh, Trent. Brenda told me that if this extended visit goes as well as the short weekend visits have gone, she thinks Christa will soon be ready for them to move here permanently."

  When he'd hugged her, she'd sensed he didn't want to let her go, as if he was afraid he'd lose her. "If that's the case, don't you think we should make some decisions about our future."

  "Not now, Trent. Let's wait and see how it goes."

  She had put him off once again. But sooner or later she'd have to face the inevitable. It was only a matter of time before Trent proposed. And then she would have to decide if she could trust him completely, if she could believe he truly loved her.

  "Where shall I put these, dear?" Aunt Mary Belle held a large floral arrangement, flowers from the Winston Hall spring garden.

  "Those go in Brenda's room," Kate said.

  "I think I'll suggest to Brenda that she should come over to Winston Hall and stay with me so that you and Trent can have some time alone with Christa."

  Kate groaned. "I know you mean well, but please don't do that."

  Mary Belle harrumphed. "Brenda needs to start letting go, just a little. You're the child's mother and unless Brenda allows Christa to bond with you—"

  "Let's face it—my daughter may never think of me as her mother. She may always see Brenda in that role."

  Mary Belle sighed, then turned to take the flowers into the guest bedroom Brenda Farrell would occupy. Kate returned to her chore—making Christa's bed with the new pale yellow bed linens she'd purchased in Atlanta. She'd found out recently that yellow was Christa's favorite color, so she'd made plans to add more of that color to this room.

  "Where is everybody?" Trent called from downstairs.

  "We're up here," she told him.

  "I'll be on up as soon as I put the groceries away."

  "Did you remember the Turtle Tracks ice cream?" Kate asked. "It's her favorite, you know."

  "I got it. And the cereal she likes and the strawberry-flavored milk she prefers. You gave me specific instructions, honey. Stop worrying. Everything will be perfect."

  "Everything will not be perfect until you two get married again," Mary Belle called out loud and clear.

  Silence.

  Say something, Trent. Please.

  "I'll thank you to stay out of my business," Trent told his aunt.

  Kate released her pent-up breath.

  Mary Belle came into Christa's room and zeroed in on Kate. "Why won't you marry him?"

  "I beg your pardon." Kate rearranged the decorative pillows on the four-poster bed.

  "Don't play dumb with me. I know my nephew has been walking around with your engagement ring in his pocket for over a month now. Why haven't you said yes?"

  "Trent has my engagement ring? Do you mean he kept my original ring, the one he gave me years ago?"

  "That very ring. Half of Prospect is aware of the fact that Trent took your engagement ring and wedding band out of his safety-deposit box this past month."

  Kate laughed spontaneously, finding great humor in the fact that a bank employee had spread the word about Trent's withdrawal from his safety-deposit box and that within a few days afterward half the town had known what he'd done. And wasn't it strange, Kate thought, that she didn't seem to mind at all. Once she had hated small-town gossip and the busybodies who generated it. Now she liked everything about Prospect, absolutely everything.

  "Trent has not proposed," Kate told Mary Belle.

  "He hasn't?"

  "No, he hasn't."

  "I find that odd."

  "Why should you find—"

  "Have you been discouraging him?"

  Kate gave Mary Belle a withering glare.

  "You have, haven't you?" Mary Belle huffed indignantly. "Why on earth would you do such a thing?"

  "Why would Kate do what?" Trent asked from where he stood in the doorway to Christa's room.

  Kate and Mary Beth gasped and jumped simultaneously.

  "I'm going to hang a bell around your neck," his aunt told him.

  "Pardon me. Did I interrupt private woman talk?"

  "Yes, you did," Mary Belle said. "Kate, I'd very much like for y'all to come to lunch on Sunday, right after church."

  "We'd be delighted, Aunt Mary Belle," Kate replied. Trent looked from his aunt to Kate, his brow wrinkled, his gaze narrowed. "Aren't you two awfully chummy these days?"

  "Kate, we'll finish our conversation at a later date. I must run. I have a dinner engagement with the other members of the museum's board of trustees and I shall need a good two hours to bathe and dress." She walked over to Kate, kissed her on the cheek, then did the same to Trent. "Give Christa my love and tell Brenda that there's a room at Winston Hall for her any time she'd like to take me up on my offer."

  When his aunt walked out of the room, Trent eyed Kate questioningly. "What's that about—Brenda has a room at Winston Hall?"

  "Oh, it's nothing. Just Aunt Mary Belle being Aunt Mary Belle."

  Trent came up to Kate and slipped his arm around her, then kissed her on the mouth. When he lifted his head and smiled dreamily, she grinned back at him.

  "Before Christa and Brenda arrive, there's something I want to ask you." He took her hands in his and led her out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

  Don't propose to me now, she cried silently. I'm not sure if I can say yes. Not yet.

  She gave him a pleading look.

  He stuck his hand in his jacket pocket. Kate's heart stopped. He knelt on one knee.

  "Oh, Trent."

  "Kate…" He held up her engagement ring—a three-carat emerald cut stone. "You accepted this ring from me once before." He gazed up at her longingly. "I'm hoping you'll wear my ring again."

  "I want—"

  "Shh. Let me finish." He took her hand in his. "Kate, will you marry me. Again?"

  Before she could utter a word, he slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand. Kate stared at the sparkling diamond. She loved Trent with all her heart and soul and wanted to be his wife. Besides, remarrying him would be the best thing for Christa. It would make them a family. But that was the very reason she hesitated. She didn't want Trent to marry her because he thought it was the right thing to do for their daughter.

  "Trent, why do you want to marry me?"

  He stared at her, a puzzled expression darkening his face.

  "Yoo-hoo," Brenda Farrell called out from downstairs. "We're here. Mary Belle let us in as she was leaving."

  "Oh, God, it's Christa and Brenda," Kate said. "They're early."

  "We're upstairs," Trent called. "We'll be right down."

  When Kate headed toward the stairs, Trent grabbed her wrist to halt her. "Say yes now."

  "Later."

  She offered him an encouraging smile, then pulled free of his hold and raced down the stairs to greet Christa and Brenda. Trent came down only a second behind her. Kate skidded to a halt in the foyer, stopping herself only seconds before reaching out to Christa. More than anything she wanted to wrap her daughter in her arms and hug her for dear life. Although she and Tr
ent had made amazing progress with Christa, a barrier still existed between them and their child. And they had agreed not to push her, to give her all the time she needed, to let her come to them when she was ready.

  "Hi." Christa had Trent's wide-mouthed smile. "We left Sheffield early. School let out at noon and Nana had us all packed and ready to leave."

  "Well, we're delighted y'all arrived early." Trent grinned at Christa, then turned to Brenda. "I'll bring in your bags."

  "Just get Christa's bags," Brenda said.

  Kate and Trent stared questioningly at her.

  "I'm going to stay at Winston Hall with Mary Belle," Brenda explained. "I'll be close by and be able to see Christa every day."

  Kate looked directly at her daughter. "Are you all right with those arrangements?"

  "Oh, sure. Nana and I talked it over last night. She thinks I need to spend time with you two without her and I'm okay with it."

  "Did Aunt Mary Belle have something to do with this?" Trent asked.

  Brenda's lips curved into a however-did-you-guess grin. "Don't be upset with her. She telephoned me earlier this week and made the suggestion. And she's right. I'm Christa's grandmother and nothing will change that fact. I'll always be close by when she needs me, but she has a mother and father now and y'all need to form a family bond."

  Trent nodded. "Why don't y'all go on in while I get Christa's bags."

  "I'm not staying," Brenda said. "Come on, Trent, I'll walk back to the car with you."

  She leaned over and hugged Christa. "Behave yourself, young lady." She looked at Kate. "Do not let her get away with anything. She's a smart little cookie. She knows you and Trent will jump through hoops to pacify her."

  "Ah, Nana, you're giving away all my secrets." Christa laughed.

  "Are you hungry? Would you like a snack?" Kate asked her daughter as Trent opened the front door for Brenda and the two disappeared onto the front porch.

  "Do you have any of those homemade oatmeal cookies?" Christa asked.

  "I made a fresh batch this morning."

  "Oh, Kate, thanks. I knew you would. You're the best."

  Christa's smile warmed Kate's heart.

  When Kate shoved open the kitchen door, Christa gasped. "Oh, my heavens, Kate, what is that on your finger?"

  "What?" Damn, she was still wearing the three-carat diamond Trent had slipped on her finger. "Oh, that's the ring your father gave me when he asked me to marry him the first time."

  "Are you two going to get married again?"

  "Would you like that?"

  "You know I would."

  "We're talking about it," Kate said. "We haven't made a definite decision."

  "If you do get married again, I could be the maid of honor, couldn't I?"

  "Yes, of course, you could."

  Oh, Trent, what am I going to do? I love you and want to marry you. Nothing would please our daughter more. But you haven't said one word about loving me. I need the words, Trent, I need the words.

  * * *

  The evening had been perfect, the kind Kate had once dreamed of having with her husband and daughter. With Trent and Mary Kate. And despite the years of separation and the fact that Christa was now their daughter's name, the three of them had shared a true family evening. Dinner together in the kitchen. Mother and daughter doing the dishes. Sitting on the front porch at sunset, despite it being slightly chilly. Watching Christa's favorite Friday night TV program while the three of them shared the sofa, Christa sitting between them.

  When the mantel clock struck ten, Kate rose from the sofa and Trent used the remote control to turn off the television.

  "Bedtime," Kate announced.

  "You're going to follow Nana's instructions to the letter, aren't you?" Christa sighed dramatically.

  "Nana knows best," Trent told her.

  "Go on up and change into your new pajamas," Kate said. "I bought them in Atlanta and put them in the top drawer of your dresser this morning."

  Christa jumped up and down. "Are they those yellow silk pajamas I wanted?"

  "Could be."

  "Oh, Kate, you are the very best." Christa came barreling toward Kate and threw her arms around her.

  Kate thought she'd die from joy when her daughter hugged her fiercely, then released her and ran up the stairs. Trent came up behind Kate and pulled her back against his chest, then nuzzled her cheek with his.

  "Good feeling, huh?"

  "Great feeling." Kate turned around, right into Trent's arms. "Oh, Trent, I'm so happy."

  "Me, too, honey. Me, too."

  "I know we need to talk." She held up her ring finger. "About this. But could it wait until morning? I want to go up now and see Christa in her new pajamas and then I hope she'll let me stay with her so we can have some girl talk before she goes to sleep."

  Trent kissed Kate quickly, then turned her and gave her a shove toward the stairs. She raced halfway up the steps, then paused, looked over her shoulder and blew her former husband a kiss.

  "I love you," she mouthed the words and waited for his response.

  He shut his eyes for a brief moment, an odd expression on his face. When he opened his eyes again, he smiled at her, but didn't say anything. Did that mean he didn't love her? Dammit Trent, am I supposed to be able to read your mind?

  * * *

  Kate lay awake, torn between wanting to go to Trent and wishing he would come to her. She'd been the one who had decided they shouldn't share a bedroom while Christa and Brenda were in the house with them. But tonight was different. First of all, Brenda wasn't here. And secondly, Trent had proposed. She was wearing an engagement ring.

  But you haven't said yes, she reminded herself.

  Was she allowing three little words to keep her from accepting, from grabbing everything she'd ever wanted and holding on tight? What did it matter that Trent hadn't told her he loved her. He'd shown her in countless ways. Not only did he make her feel loved and cherished every time they made love, but he'd done everything in his power to give her whatever she wanted. He'd let her have her way about their relationship and about dealing with Christa and Brenda and even Aunt Mary Belle.

  And don't forget that he bought this house nine years ago—bought it in the hopes you'd come back to him. And he kept it remodeled it and held on to it all this time. And he gave it to you—in writing, putting the deed in your name.

  How much more did a man have to do to prove his love?

  Kate slipped out of bed, picked up her satin robe and put it on. Just as she headed for the door, she heard a soft rapping.

  "Kate," Trent whispered her name.

  She opened the door to him. He stood there in the dark hallway, wearing his pajama bottoms and silk robe, loosely belted. He looked as if he'd gotten no more sleep than she had.

  "I was coming to you," she told him.

  "Christa is sound asleep. I peeked in on her on my way to your room."

  "Couldn't you wait till morning to find out my answer?" she said teasingly.

  "I can wait for your answer." He shut the door behind him, then reached out and pulled her up against him, enfolding her securely in his embrace. "But I can't wait until morning to make love to you."

  "I feel the same way." Rising on tiptoe, she draped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  That was all it took for him to lose control. His mouth devoured hers and his hands went crazy, rubbing, caressing, massaging her back, her hips, her buttocks. She gripped his wide shoulders as he deepened the kiss and when his sex thumped against her belly, she yanked off his robe and tossed it to the floor. Within minutes, he'd stripped her, then he discarded his pajama bottoms. They tumbled together onto her bed, touching and tasting each other, their bodies eager to join. She took the dominant position, mounting him, bringing him fully inside her, to the hilt. And then she began a fast, frantic pace, wanting him desperately. Needing him. Loving him. Always. He clasped her hips and urged her into a frenetic rhythm. Hard and fast. Hot and wet. They went at each ot
her as if their very lives depended on this single mating.

  Trent grunted. Once. Twice. And then he came.

  Kate's own climax came on the heels of his, fast and furious. Pleasure almost beyond bearing. She melted into him, their sex-damp bodies sticky and hot. He stroked her buttocks as she kissed his neck.

  "Kate. Kate…"

  "I love you, Trent."

  "I—"

  The scream filled the entire house, as if the child's voice was magnified a thousandfold. Kate shot straight up, her heart racing maddeningly. Oh my God, it was Christa!

  "It's Christa," Kate told him as she got up, found her robe on the floor and slipped into it.

  "She's crying. Listen." Trent followed Kate's lead and put on his robe, too.

  "She must be having a nightmare."

  Kate ran out into the hall and straight to Christa's bedroom. Trent came in right behind her. She rushed over to the bed where Christa thrashed about, moaning and groaning and clawing at the air. Acting purely on instinct, Kate crawled into bed with her child, pulled her into her arms and held her close.

  "It's okay, baby, Mama's here," Kate said as she caressed Christa's head and neck and back. "You're safe my darling. No one can hurt you."

  Trent stood beside the bed. Springtime moonlight poured through the windows, filtered only by the delicate white lace curtains. His gaze connected with Kate's and they exchanged concerned looks.

  The more Kate petted Christa, the tighter she clung to Kate and the calmer she became until finally she quieted. Her eyelids fluttered. Kate kissed her forehead.

  "That's it my sweet baby, rest. Mama's here and I'll never let anything or anyone hurt you ever again."

  Christa opened her eyes and looked right at Kate. "I had a terrible dream."

  "That's all it was, sweetheart. Just a dream. You're fine now."

  "I dreamed that we were all together, living here in this house and we were so happy." Christa looked over Kate's shoulder and reached her hand out toward Trent. "Daddy?"

  Kate's heart caught in her throat.