The spaghetti drained, Lonna poured it into the pot of sauce, one hand pressing into her sternum as she stirred with a big wooden spoon.
But this thing between Bonnie and Keith—whatever the hell it was—might just manage what nations at war had been unable to do. If they split up, she just plain didn’t want to go on.
So she wasn’t going to think about it. Spooning half the spaghetti mixture into the bottoms of four oblong baking pans, she covered it with slices of American cheese, spooned the rest of the sauce on top and finished off with a final layer of cheese.
She’d told Bonnie she couldn’t stay with Keith and Katie this weekend. That she’d already promised to spend the night at her friend Madeline’s while her daughter was at a business meeting. It hadn’t been true, but when she’d called, Madeline had been thrilled about the extra company. If those kids wanted to screw up the only thing that mattered in life, she sure as hell wasn’t going to help them.
Ripping sheets of foil with too much force, Lonna covered the pans of spaghetti, carried them to her oven and slid them inside. An hour, tops, and they’d be ready to go.
She had a job to do.
“I THINK YOU’RE MAKING a huge mistake, Bon,” Beth said.
It was Friday after work, and the two women were in Bonnie’s office while their kids played in the big room on the other side of the windows.
“You love him.”
“I know.” Bonnie swallowed back the tears she’d been fighting all day. “I love him so much that I can’t keep hurting him. Besides—” she blinked, looking out at her daughter “—I don’t think I have a choice anymore. If I didn’t leave, he was going to.”
“So that’s it? You’re getting a divorce?”
“I have no idea.” Bonnie shook her head, trying to clear away some of the fog. Since she’d walked out of her house the night before, she’d been living in a realm of unreality and shock, battling emotions that had grown nightmarish. “I haven’t talked to Keith today, except to tell him Grandma can’t come until Monday and to ask him what he wants to do about the show tonight.”
“You guys don’t have to go. We can explain it to Ryan,” Beth said quickly.
Bonnie shook her head again. “No, it’s okay. We’ve been telling the kids about this for months—ever since we got the tickets. It’s all they’ve been talking about today.”
“Still—”
“I think it’s important,” Bonnie interrupted, questioning the desperation with which she was holding on to the evening’s plans. Remembering those tickets some time in the wee hours of the morning had finally allowed her to fall into a fitful sleep. “Katie needs to see that her life will go on, that her father and I both love her and are there for her.”
The two women looked at each other. Beth was the one who started to cry first.
“I just can’t believe this happening,” she choked out.
“I know,” Bonnie said, glancing toward the children. She had to remain strong for Katie. When her “I can’t, either” broke on a sob, she got up from her desk, looking out the window to the parking lot.
She told Beth about the offer from Dan Gentile.
“Are you going to accept?”
Bonnie shrugged. “I told him I needed a few weeks to think about it.”
“Does Keith know?”
“I plan to tell him tonight.”
Beth joined her at the window, bringing an extra tissue, and they talked for the few more minutes they had before Keith was due to pick up Bonnie and the kids for the trip to Phoenix. Beth agreed to tell Greg about Bonnie and Keith’s separation that night.
Bonnie knew there was no way she was up to her brother’s reproof. At least not without a good night’s sleep.
“So where will you stay tonight?” Beth asked as they saw Keith’s car pull into the parking lot.
“I—”
“You can always stay with us when you bring Ryan home.”
Bonnie hugged her sister-in-law, wishing she didn’t have to let go. “Thank you,” she said. “I may take you up on that later, but for tonight I’m going home.”
Beth’s eyes lit up as the women broke apart. “You are?”
“Don’t look like that, Beth,” Bonnie said. “I’m sleeping in the guest room. Keith and I just thought it would be less confusing for Katie since we’re getting in so late. And she’s been looking forward to this evening for so long….”
LEAVING KATIE with Keith, Bonnie went in to work for a few hours on Saturday. They’d spoken only in brief, polite phrases the night before, even after she’d told him about Gentile’s offer, and Bonnie wasn’t sure how much more of that she could take. But she was going back home. At least for the evening. She and Keith had already signed up to do the major dinner run for Grandma, who was still at Madeline’s.
And her brother, after an hour-long “counseling” session that morning, had made her promise to talk to Keith again. He and Beth were keeping the kids that evening so she and Keith would have the time alone.
In the meantime she had a lot of work waiting for her. While she’d hired someone to teach the one-year-olds—a young woman who’d recently graduated from Montford with a degree in early-childhood development—she still had catching up to do.
She was also in the middle of writing the grant proposals for Grandma. She’d stumbled across some other funding possibilities, as well, and wanted to research those.
A couple of hours into the mound of paperwork, she threw down her pencil. The day before, a registered letter had come from Diamond’s attorney, outlining the terms Diamond was offering to buy out her lease. Blue skies and sunshine beckoned through the window in the playroom. A few minutes of fresh air would clear her mind, and then she’d work for another hour or two.
She slipped out the back way and ran straight into Shane.
“Do you work every Saturday?” she asked him as he stood, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, on a ladder caulking a window.
“Mostly, so far,” he said slowly. Connecting the line of caulking at a corner, he slipped the gun into a holster at his waist and climbed down from his perch on the tall metal ladder.
Automatically holding the ladder, Bonnie squinted up at him. “When do you ever get your own stuff done?”
“When I’m not here.”
Bonnie started to chuckle and then stopped, not sure if he’d been teasing her or not. It was just such a classic Shane response.
“You’ll miss all the college football games.”
When he was back on the ground, he glanced at her and then down at his feet. “You remember that I used to watch them.” It was the little-boy tone.
Smiling warmly, her first natural response in days, she said, “Of course I remember.”
Shane shrugged. “They don’t play in the spring.”
With a flashback to the insecure girl she’d been in high school, Bonnie felt color rise to her cheeks. “I knew that.”
“And by the time the season starts…” He was pushing the words out with such effort he spit a little on the last word and stopped. Then, with obvious difficulty, he started again. “I won’t have to work Saturdays,” he said.
“Your job is going to change?” Bonnie frowned. Was Diamond so sure he was going to succeed in getting rid of her? And were the new people planning to put Shane out of a job?
He shook his head. “I’m just not good enough at writing my notes,” he said, speaking a little more easily. “I don’t figure out enough to do each day and end up with work left over on Friday. So I do it on Saturday.”
She could help with this one. “When you finish early during the week, why not just take a couple of Saturday’s jobs and get them done early?”
Hands in his pockets, Shane rocked back and forth. “I have to do what the notes say.”
“But if you—”
“I have to do what the notes say,” he repeated, his classically handsome face lined with frustration.
Spurred on by the knowledge that Shane wa
s a person she still seemed able to help, Bonnie didn’t let his frown deter her.
“How about if I sit down with you and we’ll plan out your week so that it doesn’t include Saturdays, and then we can make notes from the new plan.”
He studied her, giving no indication of his thoughts.
Was that because he was still good at masking them—or because he was having a hard time formulating any?
“I would like to do a schedule with you,” he said slowly and with obvious effort, “but I get to see you alone when I work Saturdays.”
Bonnie’s stomach flip-flopped. She leaned back against the metal braces of the ladder, her hands on the steps behind her. “I don’t normally work on Saturdays,” she said.
“But you’re always here.”
“Lately, maybe, but it won’t always be that way.”
The way things were looking, she might not be in Shelter Valley on Saturdays—or any days—much longer.
“I like being with you, Bonnie.” His stare had become intent.
Proceeding slowly, she chose her words carefully, her first and foremost goal not to hurt him. “I like being with you, too, Shane.”
“Okay then, good.”
Used to people towering over her, Bonnie suddenly grew more aware of Shane’s height, the breadth of his shoulders.
Or maybe it was the odd, too-adult look in his eyes. Awkwardness made her search a little desperately for the perfect thing to say.
Who was in charge here? She’d always assumed it was her. Now, though…
“I know you’re not happy, Bonnie.”
It didn’t surprise her that even Shane could figure that out today.
When she didn’t say anything, he took a step closer. “I can make you happy.”
Did he mean because she liked being with him? Or could he really be saying what she was afraid he was saying? What she’d be certain he was saying if he was whole.
Should she humor him? Or set him straight?
“Right now, you’re making me uncomfortable.” She opted for honesty.
“I can make you happy.”
The repetition, evidence of his handicap, was reassuring.
Until Shane took hold of the ladder on either side of her.
“Shane…”
Continuing to stare at her, he didn’t seem to hear.
“Sha—”
She didn’t finish because his mouth came down on hers. With all the sensual fire he’d had as a teenager, mixed with a huge dose of experience she hadn’t seen in him before. His hard, athletic body pressed her against the ladder, and Bonnie couldn’t breathe.
Completely overwhelmed, by the past, by old desires and dreams that were suddenly reality—even if a grossly skewed version—Bonnie didn’t immediately push him away.
He opened his mouth over hers, coaxing a response she had no intention of giving, but started to give, anyway. A small part of her clouded mind had the rational thought that kissing must be an instinctive thing, and that was why Shane was still so masterly.
And the rest of her wanted to cry.
SATURDAY EVENING, that first weekend in May, Keith was alone with Bonnie for the first time since she’d walked out two nights before.
Greg and Beth had meant well, keeping Katie, offering them a chance to patch things up.
Keith couldn’t believe how much he missed his daughter.
Her nonsensical chatter filled the gaps that were widening between him and Bonnie.
“Just one more house,” she said, checking their list. She gave him an address outside town.
“What is this, the tenth?” he asked.
“Eleventh.” She turned to lift the lid of the cooler right behind the front console in the van. “Grandma’s got a full-blown business going here.” Apparently finding what she was looking for, she pushed the lid back in place and faced front.
Keith silently took the next corner. He and Bonnie had already said all there was to say about Grandma. Keith wanted Lonna to slow down; Bonnie was busy finding money so she could expand.
Once free of town, Keith pressed the accelerator a little harder. If they’d been wearing something besides blue jeans, T-shirts and tennis shoes, they could have gone to a dinner show in Phoenix during the time they had to spend together that evening. A show that left no opportunity for even minimal conversation.
He made one turn and then another.
Maybe, when they were through, he’d suggest a drive. It would be a hell of a lot better than returning home to spend the evening in front of the television, quiet except for the occasional comment about a particularly asinine commercial.
When he’d promised Greg they’d spend the evening together, he’d thought it would be preferable to having his brother-in-law breathing down his neck. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Slowing, he turned onto a desert road that led to a new housing development about five miles south of Shelter Valley. So far only a few homes had been built, but word was that every lot had sold.
“Isn’t that Pastor Edwards’s car?” Bonnie asked. She was looking down a narrow dirt road they’d just passed.
Keith threw the van in reverse, backed up. Edwards’s car wasn’t on the road. It was parked in an alcove off to the side. Even from that distance, Keith could see the shadows of two figures in the front seat.
“They’re making out.” Bonnie’s horrified disbelief mirrored his.
Except his had an unhealthy amount of anger mixed in. “I don’t believe it!”
As though viewing a fatal car accident, the two sat there and stared. “It’s been less than two weeks,” Keith said almost to himself.
“What’s wrong with him?” Bonnie’s voice was rising.
“I’ve had enough.” Keith yanked open the door of the van. He could hear Bonnie right behind as he ran several yards to the car and wrenched open the door.
“So much for taking care of things,” he said, not even attempting to hide his contempt.
“Keith…” The older man didn’t recover nearly as well this second time. And then, “Bonnie.”
Emily Baker groaned, bent over until her face was almost in her lap. She might have been crying. Keith almost hoped she was.
At least if the woman felt bad about what she was doing, some part of this would make sense.
“Emily and I just…needed to be together.” Edwards was appealing to Bonnie.
“I’m sorry,” Keith heard his wife say. He recognized that tone of voice. Edwards had no idea who he was dealing with.
But Keith knew.
“You’re a woman. I’m sure you can understand that sometimes love is stronger than the best of intentions….”
Stepping up beside him, Bonnie nodded. Keith waited.
“I also understand how I’d feel if I were your wife,” she said.
Edwards turned his head.
“Do you have any idea what you’re throwing away?” Bonnie asked, peering in at Emily Baker. “My gosh, Emily, you’ve got two teenagers still living at home.”
“I know,” she said, eyes filled with tears. “I’ve thought about nothing else for weeks. I never expected to fall in love with Bruce. It just happened. And I can’t bear to think of living my whole life without him.”
“So, just like that, you throw away the lives of at least four people?” Keith shouted.
Yet why should he be surprised? Wasn’t that exactly what he and Bonnie were doing? Throwing away lives?
Edwards didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Not necessarily.”
“I gave you the benefit of the doubt the first time,” Keith said, standing close to Bonnie. “I hope you understand that I can’t do it again.”
The man slowly nodded. “Can you give me twenty-four hours to break the news to my wife?”
At the moment Keith hated to give the man anything. “Yes,” was all he could manage.
Emily Baker, still bent over, started to sob. It was only then that Keith realized the woman was covering her naked breasts.
> BONNIE SAT IN THE VAN as Keith drove, afraid to say a word. Afraid to alienate Keith any further. Life was splintering around her, flying off in frightening directions she could neither understand nor control. She wasn’t committing any immoral acts, but was she really that different from Emily?
Following her heart at the cost of the life she’d already built?
Keith parked and Bonnie ran their last meal of the night up to the door, offering to set the table for the older gentleman who answered the door in his wheelchair, taking the couple of extra minutes to do so when he gratefully accepted her offer.
Their marriage woes aside, she needed to talk to Keith. To tell him what had happened at the day care that afternoon. And ask him what to do about Shane. She needed a man’s perspective, because her own had certainly been off the mark.
“You’re a lifesaver, young woman,” the elderly man said, following her into the kitchen.
“I’m happy to help,” she told him, surprised by how completely true those words were. She really loved these old people she’d been visiting in the past weeks.
She finished up without hurrying. And then nervously rejoined her husband.
“Can we stop for a bottle of wine and a log, and have a campfire in the desert?” she suggested.
She couldn’t bear to go back to the house they were no longer sharing. And anyplace public was out. Other than Grandma, and Greg and Beth, no one knew they were separated.
“We have a perfectly good fire pit at the house.”
She noticed he didn’t say at “home.”
Bonnie swallowed. Hard. These past few days had been so confusing she could hardly think.
“Please?”
He glanced over at her briefly, then nodded.
She rode silently beside him into town.
Twenty minutes later, as Keith climbed back into the van with a couple of bags, he said, “I got zinfandel and a four-hour log. Is there a blanket in the back, or do we need to swing by the house?”
“There’s one in the back.”
Nodding, he said no more, just turned the van back out toward open road. His silence didn’t bode well.
Born in the Valley Page 19
