“Sure,” Becca said. “Or fund a party once a month.”
“Or maybe even rent a facility for everyone to get together for bridge games or craft projects.”
Katie swung her feet, kicking the cart. Bethany joined in.
“We’d better go,” Bonnie said, holding her daughter’s feet still when the little girl disobeyed her plea to stop.
“The grant money’s there,” Becca said again as she wheeled her cart away. “Think about it…”
Bonnie nodded. If she could get Grandma some real help, that would be one huge relief.
HE COULD HARDLY WAIT for Katie to go down, had to bite back impatience when the almost four-year-old insisted on dressing herself after her bath. Which, by Katie’s definition, included choosing what she was going to wear. It took them twenty minutes to convince Katie there was a reason for pajamas; the little girl had opted for her swimsuit first, because it was her favorite garment. She’d occasionally tried to wear it to church.
And then she’d lobbied adamantly for her favorite pair of shorts and a Christmas sweatshirt that had been too small at Christmastime.
If it hadn’t been for Bonnie’s laughter while she supervised, finding logical answers for every one of Katie’s arguments, Keith might have pulled rank, intervened. He was all for skipping the bedtime story, too. Especially when Katie asked for the Dr. Seuss classic Green Eggs and Ham.
There were just some times a guy was beyond “Sam I am.”
And this was one of them. Keith had to convince his wife that he still wanted her. And make sure he convinced himself, too.
“Daddy read.” His daughter’s request surprised him. Bonnie was generally the parent of choice for that task.
“Yeah,” Bonnie added, still smiling. “Daddy read.”
And so, while inside he was screaming no, Keith started in.
But his mind wasn’t on the odd, skinny creature with the ugly face who refused even a taste of green eggs.
All afternoon, ever since Bonnie had left MU to go back to work, he’d been unable to shake the feeling that he and Bonnie had turned some corner, that they were on a road he’d neither chosen nor wanted.
Somehow he had to get them off.
He tried like hell to mimic the voice of the skinny little creature. And glanced up from the pages to find his wife watching him.
He continued reading.
Katie was on her lap, and Bonnie stuck out her tongue at Keith over the child’s head.
Had he been mistaken? Had that day’s conversation broken down barriers rather than erect them? Was his plan to solidify his relationship with his wife not even necessary? Had he misread things that badly?
God, he had to get off this roller coaster.
He read on, hoping each time he looked up to see his daughter’s eyes drifting shut, or better yet, to find them closed.
Bonnie was still wearing the black jeans and tight tan-and-red shirt she’d had on that afternoon. Keith itched to get under that top.
Sex might not be a cure-all, but it could sure as hell make you feel better.
The next glance showed him what he wanted to see.
Katie Marie Nielson had fallen asleep.
HE’D MEANT to talk first. To clarify that while he couldn’t tolerate Bonnie’s ultimatum that afternoon, he and Martha were not having an affair. He’d never even kissed the other woman.
But he was kissing his wife—outside their daughter’s bedroom door.
Before they’d even made it down the hall, she’d wrapped her arms around him. “Kiss me.”
Her face was lifted, her eyes wide in blatant invitation.
Keith lowered his head. One kiss.
And then they’d talk.
Her lips opened even before his did, her tongue dancing lightly along his lips. Fire shot through him.
There wasn’t anything light or dancing about the way his tongue explored her, no pretense that this was anything but bone-deep need. The need to reassure himself that he would not, like Edwards, jeopardize his self-respect for the momentary comfort Martha might offer him.
He heard a moan. And a moment later, realized it had been his own.
“I’m hot…” Bonnie licked his lower lip.
“Mmm-hmm,” he mumbled against her mouth. He wasn’t ready for the kiss to end. Was tired of thinking.
His breath was no longer steady, but then, neither was hers.
God, he loved this woman.
That had never been in question.
“Touch me.” Her words were a whisper.
She grabbed his hand and he held on, squeezing her fingers, wanting a way to hold on to her, their marriage, as easily as could hold that hand.
“We need…”
“Shh,” she said, bringing her finger to his lips while she rubbed her breasts against his chest. “I know. We need—” she kissed him “—to move—” another kiss “—out of the hallway.”
They should. But he was afraid that if they moved, reality would intrude. He kissed her, instead.
“Come on,” she said, pulling him toward the other end of the house, into the family room, grabbing a throw off the back of the couch and tossing it on the floor.
“I need to feel you inside me.” She looked up at him, her green eyes shadowed with passion. He saw there, in her gaze, an emotion he’d missed earlier. Desperation.
She had something to prove, as well.
He followed her down to the hastily thrown blanket, unfastening his pants as he went.
“KEITH?”
“Ye…” His voice broke. “Yeah?”
Bonnie rolled onto her stomach, still naked. They were both lying on the blanket in the family room.
Keith didn’t think he could move yet. Lovemaking hadn’t been that intense in a very long time.
“Why did you pick me?”
He opened his eyes. “Because I loved you.”
“But why me?” she said frowning. She was up on her elbows, unselfconscious about her nakedness. “You’re gorgeous, you have an impressive education, and even then you had a great job. You could’ve had any of a dozen women in town, not just a chubby girl like me.”
He’d been stuck on the “you’re gorgeous” part and only tuned in again when he heard “chubby.”
“You weren’t chubby.”
“I was, too.” She nodded her head for emphasis.
Shifting to his side, Keith propped himself up on one elbow, holding her gaze. “You were all woman, with curves that enchanted me.”
“You must have been blind.”
“No, I knew exactly what I was seeing, and I wanted that woman so badly I couldn’t sleep nights.”
“So you’re disappointed with the new skinny me?”
“I think the past hour pretty much answers that.” He traced the crease between her brow. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged and flopped down, her chin on the arms she’d folded in front of her. “Today, when I came to see you at school, I was struck by how lucky I was that someone as gorgeous as you chose someone frumpy like me. My type, or the type I was then, usually got the geeks with glasses.”
He wondered if, now that she was trapped in a life that didn’t give her enough challenge, she still felt so lucky. And was afraid to ask.
“Speaking of today,” he said, drawing a finger down her spine, “I want it clear that there is nothing sexual between Martha and me.”
She laid her head on her arms. “Okay.”
There was no perceptible difference. Nothing to indicate that the barriers were going back up.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Because, you know, a great thing about you and me is the trust we’ve had from day one. It’s allowed a freedom that not many couples have.”
She lifted one hand to her chin.
“Yeah.”
“We’ve always been able to have friends without there being a threat to our relationship.”
Her chin rocked gently in the
space between thumb and forefinger. “You’re telling me you and Martha are friends and that you intend to remain that way.”
He must not have explained well enough. “This isn’t about Martha and me, Bon, it’s about you and me.”
“But you are still going to be friends with her.”
He started to see red again. “Yes.”
“Why?” Sitting up, Bonnie lifted a corner of the blanket up and pulled it around her. “What is so compelling about her that you can’t forgo her friendship even now, when we’re already facing so many challenges?”
Keith took a deep breath. Slid into his briefs. Calmed himself enough to talk rather than fight.
“It’s got nothing to do with her,” Keith said, although he supposed if he slowed down and really thought about it… “It’s about our marriage, and whether or not we want it to be a cage or a window. Are we going to be so insecure with each other that we can’t interact with anyone else?”
“Tell me what she gives you, Keith.”
“She’s a friend. She gives me support. I give her support. That’s it.”
“And I don’t give you support?”
“Of course you do! But does being married mean we can only get that from each other for as long as we live?”
“No.” It wasn’t an empty agreement, or given for sake of keeping the peace. She spoke confidently, looking him straight in the eye.
But she knew him too well. Knew there was more. He could tell by the almost calculating look in her eye as she watched him.
“I’m enough when I’m with Martha.” He hadn’t meant the words to escape. Hadn’t really, before now, formed a coherent thought out of the nebulous emotions that had been swarming inside him for months.
Bonnie frowned. “What does that mean?”
“When I’m with her, I can relax, knowing that she’s satisfied being there. I don’t have to wonder what’s wrong with me, what I’m not providing.” Surprisingly it felt damn good to voice the thought.
“What do you want me to do, Keith? Tell you that I don’t yearn for more out of my life? It would be a lie.”
“So then leave!”
“I don’t want to leave. I love you. And Katie. And Shelter Valley and everyone here.”
“Maybe you don’t want to go because you just haven’t had any better offers.”
“Yes, I have.”
Keith’s heart stopped. “Who from?”
She told him about a job offer she’d had at the conference she’d attended several weeks before. And her refusal to even consider it.
“Why?” he asked, losing much of the fire that had prompted his words.
“Because I don’t want to leave you.”
Keith didn’t know what to say. If she stayed, she’d be unhappy. If she left, he would be.
And if he went with her?
“Are you in love with Martha?”
“What? No!” He wanted to pull his wife into his arms, escape back to the earlier part of the evening, when all that existed was the love between them. “I told you, it’s not like that at all. I swear to you, Bon.”
“Okay.”
Keith was pretty sure she finally believed him. But he was beginning to fear that, for them, “okay” might never come again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHANE WAS WITH BONNIE in the day care kitchen when she found the broken glass. She’d come in on Saturday as she sometimes did and he’d been outside at the other end of the property, raking some gravel, in case he got to see her.
And because the gravel had to be raked.
Someone had broken a window in the kitchen.
“I don’t believe this.” She sounded scared.
And that surprised him. The other times stuff had happened, she’d taken it in stride.
“It’s just…a broken…window.” Speech without spitting was hard today.
Instead of her usual nice colorful clothes, she was in black workout pants and a tight short black top with a T-shirt over it.
He could see the black top under the T-shirt. It was nice on her breasts.
“I have exercise clothes, too,” he said slowly, carefully. Maybe if she didn’t think about the glass… “They came with me from Chicago.”
She was moving around the room, inspecting the hole in the window, looking over the massive countertops and around the huge stove.
“I don’t use them here,” he said. She’d like him better if he were in his bike shorts. He had a good body.
“I have to call Greg.”
“Why?” Shane frowned. “I’ll sweep it up.”
For once she didn’t notice him.
He’d spent hours waiting around for her, and now this. Shane had no idea what to do. He didn’t have his bike shorts. And…
Things settled inside him when she turned and smiled right at him.
But then she ruined it.
“He’ll kill me if I don’t call him,” she said.
“Look at this.” She picked up something from the floor across from the window, brought it over to him.
“It’s a rock.” As big as a softball.
“Someone threw this through the window.”
She sounded really surprised, and Shane’s head started to hurt.
Dammit. She was confusing him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Shane.” She looked up at him. For her it was a long way up. Her eyes were wide open and warm. He liked them that way. “Don’t be sorry,” she told him in a voice so soft he wanted to hold it inside him. “It’s not your fault.”
“But you’re upset.” He struggled to voice his thoughts. To have clear thoughts. He’d been expecting a better day.
“Not at you,” she assured him.
Shane believed her. “Okay.”
“I’ll have to show this to Greg,” she said, turning the rock over. “Oh, my gosh!” She sounded like she might start to cry.
“What?”
He needed to leave now. The day was just bad.
“There’s something stuck on the back of this.”
He peered over at the ugly gray stone. “Yeah.”
“Is it explosive?”
He glanced at it again, but didn’t want to. He had to go. Maybe not even sweep up the glass first. He shrugged.
“I have to call Greg.”
This time she sounded very scared.
“I’ll stay with you until he gets here, Bonnie.”
And he’d clean up the glass for her. Then he had to go.
WHILE THE REST of the world worshiped, Keith sat home on Sunday. Or rather, he wandered around his empty house unshaven and undressed except for an old pair of exercise shorts. He’d expected Bonnie to stay with him after he’d told her about Pastor Edwards, but she’d had a solo in the service and didn’t want to let the choir or congregation down.
‘You’re a bigger man than I am,” he’d told her as she’d strapped on Katie’s patent-leather shoes and ushered the child out.
She hadn’t replied. But then, conversation between them had been infrequent the past couple of days.
Mostly because of him.
What was the point in talking when words with Bonnie inevitably brought anger, instead of solutions?
The phone rang, a welcome interruption from thoughts quickly growing morose.
“I thought you’d be home.”
How had he known the caller would be Martha? She rarely called him at home.
He settled back into a corner of the couch, an ankle crossed over his knee, head back against the cushion.
“You couldn’t stomach it, either, huh?” he asked. They’d never really talked about that morning in Edwards’s office, other than to reschedule the program.
“I sent the kids.”
“Bonnie took Katie.”
“I couldn’t tell them why I wasn’t going.”
“Bonnie knows.”
“We can’t not go to church for the rest of our lives.”
Couldn’t he?
Not completely sure anymore, Keith didn’t say anything. Faith was a personal thing. To each his own.
“I just wanted to let you know that the kids and I are going to take a rain check on dinner.”
He didn’t blame her. Martha knew things were rocky in the Nielson household.
“Anytime. Just let us know when,” he said. Because, in spite of everything, he really wanted her to come.
“Would next week be okay?”
“Sure. I’ll tell Bonnie.”
They could have hung up then.
But she asked about his weekend. He told her about the most recent hit on the day care. A rock with some kind of explosive attached that could have done extensive damage if the rock had hit so that the powder had detonated.
“The attacks are getting more serious.”
But whoever was doing this was resorting to pretty chancy methods.
“Is Bonnie still planning to open in the morning?”
“Yeah, Greg’s on top of things. And the attacks all take place when the facility’s completely empty—not just Little Spirits, but the connecting businesses, as well—and of course, none of them have been touched.”
“At least whoever’s doing this appears to be targeting the day care itself, not Bonnie or the kids.”
The water in the pool glistened beneath the intense Arizona sunshine. Normally Keith loved the blue skies that were so typical here.
“For now.”
“I’ve heard a couple of people mention finding other places for their kids until this all blows over.”
“Bonnie’s lost a few, but not enough to warrant closing. A lot of people in this town count on her.”
He’d always loved that about Bonnie.
He continued to stare outside.
“You don’t sound good.”
“I’m fine.” Did that sound convincing enough?
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, boss, but don’t insult me with lies.”
He sighed. Wished life was simpler.
“I think Bonnie might be leaving.”
“What?”
Unable to stand the blue skies and sunshine another second, Keith closed his eyes.
Born in the Valley Page 17
