Marrying an Older Man

by Arlene James

  No more nothing.

  He had to have some breathing space.

  He had to.

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  Chapter Fourteen

  tJhe took it surprisingly well.

  "I understand. You've been alone a long time. You need some space."

  "It's not you," he hurried to assure her, pushing away his breakfast.

  She smiled serenely. "I know."

  He frowned, wondering why he wasn't more relieved. "As long as we're clear."

  "Perfectly. By the way, your mother called a few minutes ago."

  He felt his spirits lift somewhat. Surely they were on their way home. "What'd she have to say?"

  Caroline refilled his coffee cup and carried the pot back to the burner. "They're going to Phoenix."

  Both his cup and his jaw nearly hit the tabletop. "What?"

  She turned back smoothly, an unconcerned smile on her pretty face. "I said, they're going to Phoenix."

  "When?" He didn't mean to raise his voice and had to gulp down a swearword before it escaped.

  "Today, of course," Caroline said lightly, as if he hadn't just roared at her. "They have to fly from Denver anyway, so they arranged to go today. Sarah's feeling much better, by the way. Haney, too, apparently. I venture to say our worries are over, there."

  Jesse could only think that rescue had been snatched away at the last moment. He licked his lips, trying to think. "H-how long?"

  ' 'How long will they be gone, do you mean?'' Caroline asked and shrugged. "They didn't say. Couple of weeks, I imagine. But don't worry. I have everything under control."

  That, of course, was exactly what he feared most. He pushed away his cup and got heavily to his feet. His only hope was to work himself into a stupor and pray that she had the decency and the sense to keep her distance. If he could have seen the smile she aimed at his back as he went out, he'd have quaked in his boots.

  His lunch was waiting in the warming oven. Jesse helped himself and ate in unaccustomed silence, expecting her to put in an appearance at any moment. She had to be in the house because her old car was still parked in the drive, but she didn't show before he finished the meal. Having exhausted his supply of Sunday chores, he took himself into the living room and settled down to watch a football game on television. Every once in a while he heard her moving around upstairs. Apparently she ran a bath, took a long soak and went back to her room. He tried not to think about her lolling naked in a tub of warm bubbles, her long hair bundled up on top of her head, then he realized that someone had scored, and he didn't even know which team had the ball.

  Disgusted, he changed the channel. Later, he changed it back again. The game ended without him being able to recall a single play. She came downstairs and went into the kitchen. He stared at a television news program and listened to the muted sounds of his dinner being put together. After an hour or so, she came to the doorway and announced cheerily that dinner was ready.

  Pretending aa intense interest in a commercial, he mumbled he'd be there in just a minute. The commercial ended. He

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  aimed the remote control and flicked off the television on his way to the kitchen.

  "Smells good," he exclaimed, stepping a heartbeat later into an empty kitchen. He couldn't quite believe she was gone already. After a second glance around the room, he turned back to the hallway, intending to call out to her, but he caught himself at the last instant. He'd asked for space, after all, and she was giving it to him. That in itself was cause for celebration. Wasn't it? Yes, of course it was. So why didn't he feel the relief that he should?

  Thoroughly confused, he pulled out the chair and sat down at the table. A moment later it occurred to him to pick up his fork and actually eat. He couldn't have said afterward what he'd put in his mouth, but eventually his plate was clean, and suddenly the evening stretched before him, empty, lonely and uninteresting.

  Caroline forked a baby carrot into her mouth and turned the page, chewing. It had taken some intense doing, but she was, for the moment, completely absorbed in the Western she was reading. Slade, his six-gun spinning away from his hand, crouched in the corner of the old shed and waited, blood leaking from the flesh wound in his shoulder. Her bedroom door creaked open, revealing...

  Jesse!

  She turned the book facedown and sat up on the bed, her dinner plate held aloft in one hand. "Hi. Everything okay?"

  He shrugged and leaned against the door frame. "Just wondered what was going on with you."

  She folded her legs, balanced the plate atop them and popped a broccoli floret into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Well, Slade's trapped in a line shack by the rustlers, but Annie's on her way, having finally figured out that her no-good half brother is stealing her blind and blaming it on Slade, who's an ex-con, but that was a setup, too, though I don't know how they're going to prove it yet." She waved around a chunk of pan-grilled chicken breast on the end of her fork. "I figure it has to do with the territorial governor." She ate the chicken, nodding to herself.

  Jesse gaped at her. "What on earth are you talking about?"

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  She gestured with a slice of roasted potato at the book on her bed. "Blood on the Saddle. It's your book."

  "Oh." He laughed. "In that case, you're partially right about the territorial governor."

  "Hmm. That must mean it's mat oily little clerk."

  "Bingo."

  "But how do they prove it?"

  "You don'tjeally want me to spoil it for you, do you?"

  She sat up straight suddenly. "Old Charlie, the forger Slade met in prison. He'll prove the confession was a fake."

  Jesse nodded. "And get his own sentence commuted so he's paroled into Slade's care."

  "And after Slade marries Annie, the three of them run the ranch at a profit, Slade, Annie and Old Charlie together."

  "Now you know the whole story," Jesse said.

  She sighed. "No point reading the rest now."

  His mouth wiggled suspiciously. "Well, there's a good movie on television in about a half hour. Why don't you come on down and watch it?"

  "What's it called?"

  "Blood on the Saddle."

  She made her eyes big and round. "No way!"

  -He laughed. "You're right. I made it up. Tonight's movie is another old Western you've probably seen at least a dozen times."

  ''Can't miss that!" she exclaimed. "I'll hurry." She popped i: more broccoli into her mouth.

  "No rush. I've already washed up the dinner dishes."

  She sat up straighter and smiled at him. "Thanks. You didn't rhave to do that"

  "No problem. Didn't have anything else to do."

  She smiled and speared another steamed carrot.' 'I'll just finish this, take care of my own dishes and meet you in front of the TV."

  "Deal." He turned to go, then paused. "Oh, dinner was great "bythe way." "Thanks."

  "Welcome," he said, already descending the stairs.

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  ^

  Caroline smiled to herself as she gobbled the rest of her now cold dinner. Jesse was not the loner he pretended to be, and when he needed company, she intended to be there until he realized that right next to him was where she belonged. It would be difficult—a wrong step could send him running fast in the opposite direction—but she could be patient and step easy for just as long as it took.

  The movie had started by the time she snuggled into the comer of the couch with an afghan his mother had crocheted, but since they both knew the plot already, he had no reason to rash her. He had been careful to seat himself in the rech'ner, knowing that taking a place next to her on the couch would be asking for trouble, especially given his inability to concentrate on the television. He just couldn't seem to keep his gaze off her. He enjoyed watching her enjoy the movie more man the movie itself. When she laughed her whole face lit up, and when the hero kissed the heroine, Jesse thought Caroline blinked away a tear, though he didn't dare look closely enough t
o be sure.

  When the movie was over, they sat through the evening news long enough to hear the weather report. For once -they could expect clear skies and sunshine, with the temperature inching up .' above freezing. C&oline stated her- H«entioo to do tome much-needed personal sfaopf^g, aMl^»<^*^e was nothing to do bm go to feed. They^ fose af»the-sam« instant. Jesse shut rtff the television: Caroline got the sofa tomp oa their way out of me room. He switched on the overhead fight in the hallway, then shut it off again as they reached the stairwell. The light on the landing above cast shadows over the stair steps as they climbed them, side by side. Then they were turning around the newel posts, he going one way, she going the omef.

  "Good night," she said, strolling alongside the banister, her fingertips trailing lightly over its polished top.

  Jesse stood in front of his door and watched her slowly make her way toward the second stairwell, feeling absurdly as if he'd left something important unfinished.

  She paused with one foot resting on the bottom step mat led up to her room and trilled her fingers at him.

  He was striding toward her before he even knew he was going

  to do it.

  She met him halfway, skipping across the floor on her tiptoes, hers arms opening. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him; her own came down around his neck. His mouth found hers and negotiated for fit. An instant later, he decided a second night with her wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. He might even get some sleep afterward. His big empty bed would shrink to fit with her in it Tomorrow would fade from thought; he could dwell in the moment, know that rare instant of peace before he had to worry again about screwing up her life. He could be selfish one more time, and then he would be responsible. Except...

  He began to realize that she was pulling away. He was shocked, uncertain. And then he was just standing at arm's length, blinking at her. She was smiling, her eyes sparkling like diamonds. "Good night, Jesse," she whispered, slipping away.

  He watched her climb the stairs until she disappeared into the well, then impulsively he went after her, only to stop short. He couldn't go up there again. He couldn't take her to bed again. He couldn't even touch her again. It wouldn't be fair. She was aiming for—and deserved—a wedding ring, which he simply could not give her. Desultorily he headed for his own room, his footsteps dragging as he envisioned sliding between those cold sheets all alone. Better to face it now than later, he told himself. The only problem was, he just didn't believe it.

  His mother called from Phoenix the next morning, and this time he was there to take the call. He hadn't slept well and was moving slow. Tiger had already been to the house to see what was holding him up, and Caroline had left his breakfast on the table to go out and warm up her old car. He sat at the table and picked at his food while listening to his mother chatter happily about the warm weather and sunshine there in Phoenix. He was surprised to hear that bis father had actually gone out to play golf with friends. Sarah was planning to attend a luncheon and fashion show. They were both feeling great and having a wonderful time. How were

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  Caroline and the boys? Was he dressing warmly when he went out?

  He hung up feeling that she had barely listened to his answers, but at least he knew approximately when to expect his wandering parents home. They expected to fly into Denver on Saturday and head back home by car on Monday. He only had a week to get through on his own with Caroline.

  As if summoned, Caroline walked into the room then, tugging off her gloves. "Well, so much for my shopping trip."

  "Problems?"

  She made a face. "The car won't start again."

  "Well, I knew it was something more than the battery," he said.

  She nodded. "I know. You warned me, but it's just not worth putting any money into." She sighed. "And it's such a beautiful day to be out, too. Oh, well. Guess I'll just have to be careful not to work up a sweat."

  "Why's that?"

  She wrinkled her nose. "I'm out of deodorant, among other things."

  Well, he couldn't let the woman try to get along without me necessities of life, now could he? He got up from the table and carried his plate to the sink. "You can take the truck if you want."

  She bit her lip. "I don't know, Jesse. It's so much bigger man my car, and Tiger says the roads are slick with all the ice and snow melting."

  He'd known it would come down to this, of course. So much for keeping his distance. "I'll take you in, then. The boys can exercise the horses for me. Anything else can wait."

  She beamed at him. "You don't know how much I appreciate this, Jesse."

  "I'll give Tiger some instructions and meet you out front in ten minutes."

  "Great."

  It was a pleasant morning. Mindful of the male aversion to shopping, she sought to keep the activity to a minimum, choosing

  a discount store where she could most likely find everything she needed. To her surprise, Jesse picked up a shopping basket and offered to take half her list. She jotted down the less personal items on a separate slip of paper and handed it over. He hunted her down in the sundries section not twenty minutes later and presented his selections for her approval. She couldn't fault a single choice. Unfortunately, she wasn't having as much luck finding a certain item on her list He read it aloud over her shoulder.

  "Facial cleanser." He swept a hand sideways. "There's a whole row of them."

  "I know. Just not the one I use."

  "And what, specifically, do you use?"

  She named a certain mentholated cream. He rolled his eyes. "They still make that stuff? My mother used that when I was a kid."

  She shrugged. "It works, and it's inexpensive."

  His gaze flitted over her face. "It must have something going for it," he said softly. "Your skin's flawless."

  She grinned. "Hardly, but thanks for the compliment."

  He looked away. "So, what're you going to do?"

  "Guess I'll have to try something else." She reached for a popular brand, only to have her hand caught and pushed away by his.

  "Can't argue with success," he said. "I'll take you by a pharmacy downtown where they're bound to have it."

  "You don't have to go to that trouble." -

  "No trouble."

  "Well, if you're sure..."

  He brushed aside further discussion. "What else is on your list?"

  She consulted her scribbles even though it wasn't necessary.

  "Shampoo."

  "You use something that smells like strawberries, don't you?" She looked up in surprise, a now familiar warmth stealing over her. So he'd noticed that, had he? Trying to calm the sudden ricochet of her heart, she nodded. "Sometimes;"; -.-»••:.

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  He walked around the end of the aisle and came back moments later with a bottle of expensive herbal extract.

  "I usually go for the store brand," she told him.

  "I like this kind," he said. Flipping open the top, he waved the bottle beneath her nose. The aroma of strawberries practically made her mouth water. She uttered not a word of protest when he recapped the bottle and dropped it into her cart.

  Forty minutes later—half of that time spent standing in line at the checkout—Jesse loaded her purchases behind the seat of the truck, then handed her up into the passenger seat. They drove downtown. Caroline loved the old historic district with its blend of turn-of-the-century hotels, unique art galleries and modem businesses. The pharmacy was wedged between an air-conditioning repair shop and a jewelry store on a side street. Jesse circled the block three times before finding a parking space, even though Caroline offered to hop out, run inside, make the purchase -and wait on the sidewalk for him to return for her.

  "I'm ready for a cup of coffee," he said. "They keep a pot simmering behind the soda counter."

  "They have a soda counter?"

  "The best," he confirmed, letting himself out of the truck. H
e came around to open her door and literally escorted her across the sidewalk and into the store.