She couldn’t bear to be away from Keith. Even if he was too perfect.
And would she change one single thing about her husband? Perfect or not, she loved him.
He wanted them to have another child. He actually thought a baby would solve all her problems.
Something touched her side and she jumped so hard she bumped into the headboard.
“Shh. It’s okay.” Keith’s whisper was soft against her skin as he pulled her more fully against him.
His voice wasn’t slurred with the dregs of sleep. She wondered how long he’d been awake.
Expecting him to push his hips against her, Bonnie waited. And tried not to cry. She wanted so badly to make love with her husband. But she was terrified of having sex with him. Of where it might or might not lead.
She was scared to death of driving the wedge between them any deeper.
A minute passed and he didn’t push. He wasn’t sleeping, either. His breathing was too controlled.
Slowly, not wanting to disengage the arm around her, she turned, snuggled into his chest.
And started to relax when he let her stay there. He kissed the top of her head. His breath remained controlled—none of the little hitches that signified sleep.
“We have to be up in a few hours,” she whispered eventually.
“I know. I keep telling myself that.”
“So why aren’t you sleeping?”
He shrugged, his chest hair tickling her face with the movement. “I have no idea.”
“Me, neither.” There wasn’t any one thing on her mind. Nothing in particular that she was brooding about.
“Anything new?” he asked unexpectedly.
“I heard Becca and Will Parsons are adopting a baby.” Bonnie smiled. “A little Korean boy. If all goes well, they’re going to fly over at the end of term to get him.”
She hadn’t talked to Becca yet, but Phyllis had told her the news that afternoon.
Keith was quiet and she realized, too late, her mistake. She’d brought up the subject of babies again. Becca Parsons wanted a second one badly enough to adopt.
“I hear Junior Smith is thinking of retiring as mayor.” Her husband’s voice was even.
“We hear that every time he’s up for reelection.”
“I think he means it this time. I was talking to Freda today, setting up an appointment with Will to go over production plans and possible funding ideas, and she said Junior bought some horse property outside of town. She also said Becca’s planning to run for mayor next fall.”
“No kidding?” Bonnie would have lifted her head to see his face, but she was too comfortable right where she was.
She’d missed gossip sessions with Keith.
“You really think she’ll do it?”
“I hope so. She’d be great.”
“Shelter Valley’s first female mayor.”
“Can you think of anyone better suited to the job?”
“Other than Grandma?” Bonnie giggled.
“I’m surprised she didn’t tell us about this.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know yet.”
“You think there’s anything in this town that Grandma doesn’t know about?”
Yeah. She didn’t know who’d set the day-care fires.
Though she had plenty to say about the fact that Greg hadn’t found any answers yet. That was Grandma. Expecting everything at once.
Mostly from herself.
“So you and Martha are ready to run your plans by Will?” She hadn’t realized they were already at that point.
“At least for a first-round look.” The rumbling of his voice was reassuring.
“That was fast.”
“Martha’s got some great ideas. And a valuable understanding of public-television goals and parameters. We also got some good stuff from my kids.”
Keith had told her that he was polling his students for ideas; she hadn’t known he’d already received feedback.
“I’m glad Martha’s working out so well.”
“Me, too. You were right. She was the best choice.”
Bonnie moved a little closer. Laid her head completely on his chest. Matched her breathing to the steady rise and fall of his.
“How’s she doing with the rest of her life?” Martha’s kids were older, so Bonnie didn’t have much to do with the other woman. Most of what she knew came from Phyllis Sheffield, who was one of Martha’s closest friends.
And Becca Parsons of course. She and Martha had been best friends since college. Maybe even before.
Some of Bonnie’s tension returned when she realized how long it was taking Keith to answer her.
“I’m not sure how she’s doing,” he finally said, relieving her of a worry she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
The relief was short-lived as he continued, “On the surface, she’s doing fine. I just worry about her some. She’s all alone raising four teenagers. Seeing to their needs in true Martha style and without complaint. I wonder who sees to her needs.”
Bonnie wasn’t sure she cared who saw to Martha’s needs. As long as it wasn’t her husband.
“Does she date at all?” she asked, hoping the answer was a resounding yes. Hoping that Keith’s only knowledge of the woman’s circumstances came from the Shelter Valley gossip mill—or perhaps an overheard conversation between her and someone else.
“No.”
“She’s got a lot of support from girlfriends.” She doesn’t need you, Keith.
And Bonnie didn’t need the thoughts suddenly clogging her mind. Jealousy wasn’t becoming. And it was out of character for her.
But Keith and Martha had been spending an unusual amount of time together lately. Bonnie had been able to ignore the irritating little doubts at the back of her mind—for the most part, anyway—but she and Keith weren’t at the best place in their marriage. And—
“I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “But it’s got to be hard, you know, with four teenaged kids.”
“Maybe we could have them over for Sunday dinner,” she said. “Look how much being part of a family helped Beth feel less alone.”
If you can’t beat them, join them?
“I’m not sure four teenagers will want to have dinner with a bunch of old folks.”
“Maybe not. But Martha can come. And maybe the kids will, too. Katie would sure love to have them here. And if they spend any time with Grandma, they’ll be asking to come back.”
Cantankerous though she was, Grandma had that effect on people. Especially teenagers. She always had.
“I’ll ask,” Keith said. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Caring.”
Yeah.
TWO DAYS AFTER Bonnie had shared his sleeplessness, Keith left work early for a meeting with his wife and her brother. Greg had called the meeting to discuss the day-care situation. Keith was glad to be getting somewhere with that.
The fires themselves had been small; it was the idea that more could be coming that bothered him.
Or maybe it was just that concentrating on the fires diverted him from thinking about whatever else was troubling his wife.
Hands in the pockets of his tan Dockers, the sleeves of his black cotton shirt rolled up past the elbows, Keith let himself into Little Spirits just after one on that Wednesday afternoon.
Though he could hear muffled sounds coming from the three-and four-year-olds’ rooms, the huge playroom outside Bonnie’s office was peacefully quiet. As were the one-and two-year-olds’ rooms. It was nap time at the day care.
A time that used to be Bonnie’s least favorite. He wondered if it still was.
Waving at a couple of the teachers who were talking quietly in the hall, Keith walked to his wife’s glassed-in office.
Still a few feet down the hall, he heard her talking to someone. She wasn’t happy.
“I am still under lease and if I choose not to respond in any way at all for the next two years, I am perfectly within my rights….”
&nbs
p; Keith waited to hear who was on the receiving end of her “don’t mess with me” tone of voice.
And when no reply was forthcoming, he realized she must be on the phone.
But not for long. She made it clear that she was not going to be pressured into doing something she wasn’t ready to do.
And then hung up.
A woman who no longer cared, who had one foot out the door, didn’t fight like a she-cat protecting her cubs, did she?
Keith felt a little better as he turned the corner into her office.
THE FEELING DIDN’T last long. And the meeting wasn’t about the fires.
“Look, you two, what you have is precious. Too precious just to let it slip away.” Greg, sitting forward in one of the two chairs in front of Bonnie’s desk, wasn’t getting the hint he and Bonnie had both given him.
To leave things alone.
“You adopt a kid and suddenly want to play father?” Keith asked him, half grinning. And half not.
He appreciated what his brother-in-law was trying to do, felt grateful for his support, but the problem was his to handle.
And Bonnie’s.
Greg ignored him, turning to Bonnie. “You’ve got to get past this notion that you don’t matter, Bonnie. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Just because you don’t understand doesn’t invalidate the way I’m feeling. And remind me to thank your wife for her loyalty.”
“Don’t bring Beth into this. She’s a good friend to you and you know it. She’s just worried. And if she’s going to choose who to be loyal to, I would hope it’d be her husband.”
Bonnie raised her chin. “And does she agree with you? She thinks I should just get over myself?”
Keith leaned forward.
Greg sat back. “No.”
“Well…”
“But that doesn’t mean you should throw away your whole life for—”
“Let her be, Greg.” It was the same old thing. They’d been at this for half an hour and were getting nowhere.
His brother-in-law swiveled to face him. “She’s my sister, and I’m not just going to sit here and watch her screw up—”
“Let her be.” Keith was deadly serious.
“But—”
“Whether Bonnie stays or goes, whether we stay married or not, is between Bonnie and me.”
“She’s not thinking straight and—”
“She has a right to her own views. And frankly, I don’t want her staying because she feels she has no other choice. I want her to stay because she’s made the choice to do so.”
“Excuse me, I’m right here.” Bonnie’s lips were pinched.
“You sound as though you wouldn’t be shattered if the marriage broke up,” Greg shot back.
Keith understood his brother-in-law’s frustration. He’d been dealing with his own for months.
“That’s between Bonnie and me, as well,” he said now, his sharpness a result of his own growing anger. He could have told Greg just how “shattered” he’d be. But the time for that was past.
Greg’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood. “I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time with Martha Moore down at the station.”
“Greg…” Bonnie stood, too.
As did Keith. “We’re going to leave that right there,” Keith said through gritted teeth, standing nose to nose with the sheriff of Shelter Valley. “Before this goes any further and damages a relationship that I value more than most.”
With one last glance at husband and wife, Greg nodded, then turned slowly and left.
Keith wasn’t far behind. But not before some of his anger spilled over onto his wife.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“WHY ARE YOU CRYING, Bonnie?”
Running a hand through her springy dark curls and wiping away the evidence of her tears, she smiled up at the handsome man leaning on the wall surrounding Little Spirit’s outside play area. “I’m not crying.”
“I’m pulling weeds out here,” Shane said from the other side of the five-foot cement-block wall. “I heard you sobbing.” His words were slow, almost childlike.
It would be easy to confuse him, to distract him. But that would be cruel.
“I’m just having a bad day,” she said, instead.
“Your husband was here today.”
“During nap time, yes,” she said.
“Your office window was open.”
Bonnie stared up at the dark-haired man, at shoulders that had once ruled a football field. That athletic prowess had won him scholarships to the best schools, providing the opportunity for Shane Bellows, son of a destitute family, to get the education he needed to rise to the top.
“He yelled at you.”
“Not really at me,” she said. She should be getting to church for choir practice, not sitting in one of the swings in a deserted play yard crying. Keith had taken Katie home with him when he’d gone.
“He’s just frustrated because I want to do some other things.”
“What things?”
“I don’t know yet.” The blue skies and sunshine above, the perfect mid-April day with its warm temperature and balmy cool breeze, were a balm to her troubled spirit.
“You want to leave Shelter Valley?” His tongue seemed to tangle with the words.
“No,” she replied instantly, needing to wipe the worried look from his eyes. But also because she knew the words to be true.
She loved Shelter Valley.
But kids loved their parents and the home they grew up in, and still needed to spread their wings eventually.
She pushed off the ground with one foot, swinging back and forth enough to create a slight breeze against her heated and damp cheeks.
Shane spoke again. “You said before that things were different here.”
“When did I say that?”
He frowned. Looked down until all she could see was the top of his head.
“I don’t know when,” he finally admitted.
Bonnie’s heart reached out to him.
She wondered what T-shirt he was wearing that had blue shoulders. She didn’t remember seeing him in it before.
“I think you might be remembering the conversation we had after the first fire,” she said quietly.
“Things have changed. You said that.”
Sympathy in her eyes, Bonnie smiled at him. “You’re right.”
“But…you like Shelter Valley.” He had to work so hard to get the simple sentence out, to complete a thought.
“Yes.”
And when he said no more, just continued to stand there, leaning on the wall looking at her, Bonnie just kept right on talking.
“Keith and I seem to have reached an impasse.” Scuffing the toe of her tennis shoe in the dirt, she swung slowly. “He doesn’t understand what I’m feeling, so he’s taking it personally.” She stared up at Shane, wondering why she was telling him these things.
“I understand how you feel, Bonnie.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “And I want you not to leave Shelter Valley.”
Him and everyone else.
Bonnie sent him a smile that was part grimace. “You’d just find someone else to chat with if I did,” she told him.
“No, Bonnie.” He shook his head, his close-cut dark hair in contrast with the earnest-little-boy look on his face. “For the first time since the accident, I feel sort of whole again. Because of you.” His voice was even, controlled. There it was, the hint of the man he’d once been.
“I sure don’t know what I’ve done.”
“You care.”
Yeah. She did. A lot. About him. About Keith and Katie. And Greg and Beth and Ryan and Grandma and pretty much everyone else in this town.
LONNA HAD NO IDEA what was going on at Sunday dinner, but she didn’t like it.
The family members were in their usual seats, Ryan and Katie on separate sides of the table in booster chairs, Keith and Bonnie at either end, Greg and Beth across from each other, and Lonna n
ext to Katie.
Bonnie’s chicken enchiladas were perfect, the salad crisp, and Lonna could still smell the chocolate cake that had come out of the oven shortly after her arrival.
The only thing missing was the chatter. Other than tending to Ryan, Greg concentrated on the food on his plate. Bonnie was so intently focussed on Katie, you’d think the child was a newborn.
Beth smiled at anyone who met her eyes—which wasn’t happening often. She broke what seemed to Lonna an interminable silence. “I thought Martha and her kids were going to be here today,” she said.
Bonnie leaned over to wipe cheese sauce from the side of Katie’s mouth, pushing a lock of dark hair behind the little girl’s ear.
Cutting an enchilada with his fork, Keith said, “Tim had a ball game. She promised to be here next week.”
“She bringing those kids of hers?” Grandma asked. Now, there were some young folk who could use a Nielson family dinner.
Assuming this one wasn’t starting a new trend.
“At least Tim and the two younger girls.”
“Make your party casserole, Bonnie. The kids always like that.”
Bonnie smiled. Nodded. She was a good girl.
But not a particularly happy one.
In a couple of long gulps Keith finished off the water in his glass, glanced down the table at the pitcher sitting in front of his wife and put his glass down.
That blond hair of his was touching the collar of his polo shirt again. Why couldn’t he understand that a man looked much more respectable with short hair?
She bit back the reminder that he needed a haircut. Lonna had been fighting with him about the length of his hair since junior high, and today did not seem like a good time to resume the argument.
She swallowed a bite of food, an uncomfortable experience with the acid rising from her stomach.
Peering at the children of her heart, assessing each one, Lonna settled on Greg first. “You got something bothering you, Sheriff?”
Greg’s steely gaze met hers. With a lift of her chin, Lonna met his challenge to mind her own business.
“You might say that.”
Bonnie’s fork made a loud screech along the bottom of her plate.
Born in the Valley Page 13
