She thought of the plan she’d hatched during the night when sleep had eluded her and Jake had held her close. In accordance with her plotting, she’d been to the lumber mill earlier in the day, making her purchases and arranging to have them carted to the house tomorrow. She thought of what Jake would do—what he would say, and her shiver was involuntary. It was the only fly in the ointment today, she decided, this telling him of her plan.
Then there was the gentleman who had halted her progress as she’d left the lumber mill, drawing her to one side of the walkway to introduce himself. It was then, in those few moments, that her resolution became a solid plan.
“I’ll take care of it,” she’d said brightly, even as she wondered at her impulsive behavior. Now she would face the moment of truth. Now would come the time of reckoning with Jake.
She left her boots by the kitchen door, snow melting from them, and hung her coat on the rack before she made her way to the parlor, aware of rosy cheeks and cold hands. She solved the problem of her chilled fingers by nestling them against Jake’s throat, then laughed at his shivering response.
“I met a gentleman in town, Jake,” she said eagerly, settling next to him on the couch. “He wants to come visit with you. I said it would be all right.” Even to her own ears her words sounded artificial, she thought; then she noticed his frown and doubted her wisdom. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Who was it?” he asked shortly.
“His name is Baldridge. He said he knows you from several years back, that you used to work for his company.”
“I won’t see him,” Jake said bluntly. “You had no right to make an appointment without checking with me first, Alicia.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. And she was. Sorry she’d been impulsive, sorry she’d taken for granted that Jake was ready for this to take place.
“I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll walk to town and find him and tell him you’re not available.” She rose from her seat and would have been halfway to the parlor door, but he reached out to grasp her wrist and halt her in her tracks.
“Sit down, Alicia. You don’t need to be out and about in this weather,” he told her. “Send Jason.”
She shook her head, disappointment making it imperative that she leave the room before she embarrassed herself by shedding the tears that threatened. “I made the appointment. I’ll be the one to break it,” she said, tugging at his grip, then stepping away from his side. “Besides I have some things to do in town.”
“What?” he asked suspiciously.
“I’ve ordered some wood to be delivered to the house tomorrow,” she told him, “and I’ve got to buy the nails I need to start my next—”
“What are you planning now?” He interrupted her, quite rudely she thought, and she was certain he was terribly suspicious. “I don’t want you starting any more building projects before the baby comes. You need to take care of yourself.”
“Building projects? All we did was build a doghouse for the new puppy,” she said with a tentative smile.
“You fixed the gate and the front step and put a railing on the back porch,” he reminded her. “Not to mention overseeing the building of the shed and lean-to.”
“That was all a long time ago!” she said lightly, her fist clenching as she assumed an easy pose.
“Well, what have you planned now?” he asked, and she felt hesitation slow her response, fear of his reaction making her draw away from him.
“I’m going to build a ramp. So you can go out once in a while,” she said carefully. “Jason will help me, and Cord agreed to come in next Saturday and lend a hand.”
“I won’t be going anywhere,” he told her bluntly. “I have no need of a ramp. There was one out there before and I had it torn down.”
“I know,” she said. “I heard.”
“Then I’d think you could figure out that there wasn’t much point in putting up another.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” she said, turning away from him and walking toward the door. Her hands trembled, her eyes burned with unshed tears, and she concentrated on the kettle of soup simmering on the stove. For surely, she needed some sort of distraction in order to set aside the pain of Jake’s refusal.
“Come back here!” Jake roared, and she ignored him, continuing out the door and down the hall to the kitchen.
He followed her, as she’d known he would, and the kitchen door banged loudly as he slammed it open. “I won’t have it, Alicia. You’ve gone too far this time.”
“I beg to differ, sir,” she said staunchly, recognizing that her dreams were worth fighting for. “I haven’t gone nearly far enough. I’m tired of you being a recluse, Jake, and me along with you. There are things to do in this town, things we could enjoy together, if you only would. I refuse to let you sit here in this house and become a hermit.”
“You don’t have anything to say about it,” he told her flatly. “This is my choice, and I don’t have to answer to you.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said. “I know my opinion is of little value to you, but—”
“Just stop right there,” he roared. “I’ve never denigrated your opinion. I’ve bent to your will more than once. I’ve done what you’ve asked of me, even to opening up the damn piano.”
“I won’t be happy until you’re playing the ‘damn’ piano,” she said sharply. “And let me tell you, Mr. McPherson, that day will come. I won’t rest until you sit down and play for me. I don’t think it’s fair that almost everyone in town has heard you perform except for your wife.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his mouth turned down in a sour expression. “Everyone in town, indeed.”
“You gave a concert some years ago,” she reminded him, “then you played for several performers at the opera house the following years. In fact, you were already working on another concert when Rena died, Jake.”
“Well, someone’s been busy filling your ears with my past exploits, haven’t they?”
“Is that what you call it?” she asked. “I wasn’t aware that your music was such a big secret.”
“It’s not a secret. It’s just in the past,” he told her. “You might as well forget the whole thing, Alicia. It’s not going to happen. Not ever.”
“You won’t give me the joy of hearing you make music?” she asked, her heart aching as she recognized his fury with her.
“You’ve interfered for the last time,” he said. “You can tell them to keep the damn lumber at the sawmill, and just forget the nails. This isn’t going to happen, I told you.”
“I’ll go now and undo the damage I’ve done, Jake. Then I’m going to come back and pack my things and begin to sort out my life.”
“Pack your things?” His eyes were wild now, dark and dangerous, as if he would leap from his chair to halt her progress. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re my wife, Alicia. You’re not going anywhere.”
But he was too late to halt her progress as she sailed across the kitchen, snatching her coat from the peg and picking up her boots as she reached the door. She halted on the back stoop, sliding her feet into the heavy footwear, slipped her arms into her coat sleeves and was halfway around the house before the tears began to fall.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SHE’D BEEN GONE the better part of an hour when he heard the front door open quietly and then close with a soft snick of the latch. His chair had never moved so slowly, he thought, his callused hands spinning the wheels as he shot through the parlor door and into the foyer.
Alicia stood beside the door, removing her coat, then bending to slip her feet from the heavy boots she wore. Her gaze was averted, her face pale, and for a moment he felt a tug of remorse at the pain he’d caused her. More than a tug, he thought, more like an avalanche that threatened to bury him in guilt.
“Alicia. We need to talk about this,” he said quietly, even as his heart pounded in a wild rhythm in his chest. “Come into the parlor, please.”
/> She sighed, the whispering sound conveying a sadness too great to be borne. He searched out her eyes, and flinched. Swollen and reddened by tears, they refused to touch upon him and he reached for her, grasping her hand, attempting to halt her progress as she headed for the stairs.
“Where have you been?” he asked quietly.
Her spurt of laughter was harsh, unlike the woman who had bent to his will in other times, whose only goal in life had seemed to be his happiness. Now she leveled on him a look of mockery, and he knew a moment of fear.
“I went to the sawmill and canceled my order, and then stopped by the hotel and told Mr. Baldridge you wouldn’t see him. Just as you told me to, Jake.”
She tugged at his hold, her fingers peeling his from their grip on her, and backed from him. “I’ve done as you asked, Jake. Now I’m leaving you to sort out your life,” she said. “You don’t need me. You were doing just fine before I walked in that door the first time, and you’ll no doubt be happier without me here to disturb your routine.”
“I do need you, Alicia,” he said forcefully, aching to make her aware of his pain. “I simply have a problem with going back to the life I led during those years when Rena was alive. I’ve gotten used to the way things are now, and it’s—”
“Safe?” she asked, cutting him off as he groped for a word to describe the situation. “Do you feel comforted by the grief and sorrow you’ve worn like a blanket over the past years? Have you found peace and happiness in the life you’ve forged without Rena here?”
He looked at her, feeling the anger rise within him. “You always dig deep, don’t you?” he asked bitterly. “You enjoy throwing up those early days, trying to make me feel appreciative to you for the changes you’ve made in my life.”
“And do you?” She watched him from swollen eyes, her face reddened by the cold, and he thought he’d never seen her look more appealing. Alicia had a rare beauty of her own. She was a woman who feared nothing, not even the man who had made her life so difficult over the past months, the man who even now was speaking harsh words that flew from his mouth with the precision of an arrow seeking a target.
“Hell, yes. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us, for Jason and me. We eat regular meals and the house is in order. Jason has turned the corner finally and is managing to keep his nose clean. A goal that seemed impossible a year ago.”
“And you, Jake? What have I done on your behalf?” He thought her eyes glistened with fresh tears, or perhaps it was the glow of hope. If ever he’d spoken words that were important, now was the time.
“You’ve brought life to my existence, Alicia. You’ve given me happiness.”
“And what have you given me?” she asked, prodding him.
He was silent as he considered her question, then he spoke haltingly. “A home, a son and another child for you to love as you’ve loved Jason. I hope I’ve given you the knowledge that you are needed and wanted.”
She stepped back from him, her fingers fumbling for the newel post, one foot rising to touch the bottom step of the long stairway. “What about love, Jake? Have you offered that? Or have I missed something?”
He was astounded at her words. Of course he cared about her; the declaration was on the tip of his tongue as he watched her climb the stairs. Cared about her? Such pallid words to describe the overwhelming power of love. For the first time, he recognized the depths of his feeling for the woman. He’d coasted along, content to allow her tender care of him, falling more and more each day into the routine she’d set, the hours of intimacy they’d shared.
If she walked away—he’d have lost the light at the end of his miserable tunnel.
The door to the upstairs bedroom clicked shut, and he envisioned her searching out her valise, thought of the collection of clothing she’d left upstairs. She’d have to come back down in order to pack the things she’d installed in his bedroom. Her brush, her comb, the mirror she seldom peered into. Then there was the nightgown she wore on occasion, the wrapper she donned each morning before she went to the kitchen. Her house shoes that peeked from beneath the bed.
He closed his eyes. Surely she would not leave him, would not walk out that door and never look back. His brow furrowed as he considered what his life would be without her, and pain such as he’d never known filled his breast and overflowed, almost strangling him with its aching presence. His eyes blurred and he rubbed at them distractedly. He’d wait until she came down. Then he’d persuade her to stay.
The image of Alicia, carrying her valise, coming toward him with resolution written on her features was more than he could stand. He’d have to stop her, make her understand that he needed her. Make her aware that he wanted her in his life.
Make her realize that the love he’d denied in his heart was filling him now with an aching, burning urgency he could not contain.
“Alicia.” He spoke her name in broken syllables, rolling his chair to the insurmountable obstacle of eighteen-stair steps, curving in an elegant rise to the second floor of his home.
No, not a home—not once Alicia walked out the door. It would become, once more, a house, an empty shell, barely resembling that which she had made of it.
And he would forever mourn her leaving.
He slid from the chair, kneeling on the first step, balancing himself on the stump of his left leg and reached for the gleaming spindles that attached to the banister. The pain and pressure against his thigh almost undid him, but he set it aside as nothing, for the aching need for the woman at the top of the stairs was by far the greater agony.
The second step took but a moment—the third a bit longer, for sweat broke out on his brow, and he gritted his teeth against the force of his stump grinding into the bare wood.
The door of her room opened. He heard her footsteps in the hall. He chanced a look upward, knowing already what he would see. She stood at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide, her mouth forming words that were not forthcoming. The heavy valise hung from her right hand, then it hit the floor with a thump as she dropped it beside her foot.
“Jake! What are you doing?” Her tone was incredulous, as if her eyes were playing tricks on her. “Stop, Jake. You’ll hurt yourself!” she cried, even as he forced his way to the fourth step. She descended the steps lightly as she sped to his side, and her hand touched his head, her fingers wide-spread against his crown.
Then she was there, settling on the step above him, allowing him the comfort of her lap upon which to place his head. He knelt there, swaying a bit as he steadied himself against her, and his arms circled her, clutching her as if she were the only life preserver on-board a sinking ship.
“Alicia. Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, knowing no shame, only sorrow at the thought of losing her. “I love you, Alicia. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Please don’t leave.”
“You love me? Since when, Jake?”
Wasn’t that just like her, to strike to the heart of the matter without any pretense. He laughed, a rough sound that shook his body. “Since when? Maybe since you came into my house and read me the riot act. Or perhaps when you made Jason go and repair the damage he’d done. Or,” he continued, “it might have been when you made me open the piano and give Toby lessons.”
He looked up at her and knew a moment of such pure need he could hardly bear it. “I don’t know when I loved you first, Alicia. It might have been the night you came to me and gave me…gave me the gift of your body. Do you remember that first time?”
She nodded, her face pale, her eyes shadowed. “I remember, Jake. It was the most wonderful night of my life.”
“If I change…if I promise to make amends, will you stay? I’ll try, Alicia. I’ll do whatever you want.” And then he frowned. “Perhaps we’ll have to negotiate on a few things, but for the most part, you can have things the way you want them.”
She smiled. “I should have known that you’d make restrictions on me, that you wouldn’t go whole hog, Jake.” Her hands cupped his face, an
d she bent low to press her lips against his.
“Will you let me build the ramp?”
It seemed to be the crux of the matter, he thought, for she held her breath as he considered the bargaining tactic she’d chosen to home in on. “No,” he said with finality, and watched as the light faded from her blue eyes. “I’ll let you supervise while Cord and Rachel’s brothers tend to it. Or I’ll hire someone to do it.”
Her face lit from within as he spoke, her eyes filling with a brilliance he was now familiar with. He stretched upward to find the warmth of her mouth, his hand pressing against her nape to bring her closer. “What else, Alicia?”
She hesitated, and the joy that had almost come to dwell in those blue eyes seemed to fade as she made her request. “Will you play for me? Not for anyone else, Jake. Only me? I won’t ask more than that.”
And she wouldn’t. For as he well knew, this woman was as honest as the day was long. Could he do as she asked, could he live with the pain of once more bringing to life the music that had been missing from his soul for so long?
For there would be pain in this endeavor, that he knew without a doubt. He would suffer again the loss of his legs as he struggled to once more conquer the pedal and make his fingers stroke the keys with even a semblance of his former ability.
For Alicia? Could he do it for this woman who had given him a second chance at life? The answer came clearly.
“I’ll do anything you ask of me,” he said quietly. “Including that.”
“I feel as though we’re sitting on opposite sides of a bargaining table,” she said softly. “I don’t want it to be that way. I want us to be two halves of a whole, Jake.”
“We can be,” he vowed. “I’ll see to it.” The old arrogance tinged his words and he recognized her smile as one he’d seen before.
“Invincible, aren’t you?” she asked. “Determined to have your way.”
Redemption Page 25
