“It’s strange, you know?” she murmured without thought. “Leaving Sadie? I’ve never spent a night without her.”
“She’ll be fine and your mom loves it.” He worked his long fingers around the steering wheel. His hands were so rough, with darkened knuckles and tiny scars along the back. “You said they took her for ice cream?”
“Yeah. She’ll be spoiled when I get back.”
He snorted. “She is spoiled now, Jo. Nothing wrong with it at this age, right?’
“Right.” Without the baby as a buffer, there seemed so little to say. She reached for the obvious. “So what kind of stuff did you pack?”
He ran down his purchases then they realized they had to stop by the local country store because he’d forgotten to pack bread, toilet paper and aluminum foil. A few comments floated to her mind but Josie swallowed them. He was trying. Normally, she handled everything. Like usual.
The long private road up to the cabin had been freshly plowed. Wade commented Mike had called his brother and he’d opened it this morning for them as well as starting a fire and the generator. With the wintery white dripping from the eaves and smoke streaming from the chimney, the cabin looked homey and inviting, if a little primitive.
The cabin wasn’t anything grand, just a typical redneck hunting base with a deer head on the wall, no embellishments and floors sanded and stained natural to match the log walls. There was no television, no internet, no phone. There wasn’t even a radio. But it had a woodstove that banished the cold and a functioning toilet and shower that worked off a well. A generator in the back provided electricity. It could be cozy for a couple. And right now, her stomach churned just looking at the front door.
“We spent our honeymoon here.”
She hadn’t meant to say it aloud but he nodded, his eyes locked on the same plain wooden door. They’d gotten married so fast after the stick turned blue there had been no money for a real honeymoon. McGowan and Kramer Contracting had just started out and the three days Wade had taken off had been precious, stolen from a major project that forced him to work longer hours for two weeks afterwards. They’d barely left that tiny bedroom.
God, how they’d talked then. So full of plans and dreams and so many hopes. This had been where their marriage started. Would it also be where it ended?
“Can we talk a minute before going in?”
Why did that ring like a bell at a boxing match? Her heart thudded painfully. “Sure.”
“I want to fix this, fix us. But I don’t have the right tools right now. We can get them if you’re willing to help me.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Play a game with me.”
Turning in her seat, she stared at him. “What?”
“I made it up on the drive up here. I’m calling it a Hail Mary Honeymoon Game. If we win, our marriage survives, if not… If not, then you file for divorce and I won’t fight you. The rules are simple. Talk to me, tell me the truth, all of it, no matter how it hurts or how ugly it is, I need to hear it.” His eyes jerked up, snagging hers and brimming with raw need. “I’ll do the same. I figure there’s bound to be a lot of nasty shit come out, maybe some good stuff, too. But you said you still love me.”
He let the sentence hang, dripping with questions his stare begged her to answer. She couldn’t hold his gaze and dropped her eyes.
“I do.”
“So will you play with me? Try to make us both winners?”
“I’ve never lied to you, Wade.”
“Haven’t you?” A whisper sharpened his tone, not to a cutting edge but to one that scraped. “Lies of omission.”
Oh no, he was not going to make this all her fault. Her fingers curled into fists and her shoulders drew back. “That goes both ways and you know it.”
“It does, you’re right. But not anymore. Today we start over… or decide to let it die.”
She gave him a short nod because there was no way in hell anything would come out of her mouth as dry as it was. She climbed from the truck and he met her on her side as she reached for her bag. “I’ll get this stuff. I want to carry you across the threshold.”
“What? Why?”
“This is our Hail Mary Honeymoon so I want to start off on the right foot.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She grabbed her bag and strode toward the cabin, leaving him standing there. Blessed heat slapped her in the face as she opened the door. Wade was a minute behind her, carrying his bag and a few sacks of supplies. He said nothing but slammed the door as he went out for a second load.
This is going to be a disaster. Shaking that ominous thought away, Josie chucked off her coat then set about settling in while Wade hauled in supplies and wood. She readied the cabin, storing their food and smoothing sheets over the mattress. There was only one bedroom. A frown worked her mouth.
Was this Wade’s plan? Did he think suddenly recharging their sex life was going to erase all their issues? The couch folded out to a second bed so she snagged an extra pillow and put it on the couch then folded a blanket across the back. When he came through the door with snow feathered in his hair and sprinkling his shoulders, he’d focused on them. He looked around and noticed his bag was setting on the bed and hers was tucked into a corner beside the couch. A twitch developed in his jaw.
She unloaded groceries and her fingers tightened around a box of spaghetti. They had enough food for far longer than a few days. She didn’t think she could handle more than that. She wasn’t even sure she could handle those planned for days.
Even though it was barely noon, Josie prepped dinner. It was something to do, something other than talk. He added another log to the stove, shutting the metal door with a ringing clank, then exhaled so loudly she turned her head.
He’d left his boots beside the door and had shed his coat. All the snow had melted, leaving his hair damp. There was only a couch and a chair, mismatched and threadbare, and he’d chosen the chair. Lines of strain carved into his brow. He leaned forward, both elbows on his knees, hands laced between them.
“What are you making?”
Mundane words. He’d asked her the same thing a thousand times. But her nerves were so taut, she had to force herself to speak. “I thought I’d roast the chicken and then make dumplings. It’s a good meal on a cold day.”
No response came back to her so she turned and finished dressing the bird. Once she shoved it in the oven and piddled a few minutes, finding anything else to do, she was left with nothing but him and a gaping void between them that couldn’t be measured.
“Want me to make some coffee or—”
Her words died abruptly as she turned. He was directly behind her, so close she could smell the wood smoke clinging to him, see each individual lash. His hand reached toward her, as if to cup her waist and she stepped back. With a sidestep, she cracked the barely warm oven door and peeked inside.
“Why did you come today, Jo?”
Yep, chicken was still in there, naked and white and chilling like a frat boy. “You asked me to.”
“Maybe I asked the wrong question. Maybe I should have asked if you even want to try to save us because you sure as hell acting like it’s all over except signing the damned papers.”
She closed the oven. “Is this because I wouldn’t let you carry me over the threshold?”
“That and how quiet the trip up was. Hell, I can’t even touch you without you shifting away.”
Antsy, she grabbed the sponge. “No, I don’t.”
Warmth skimmed along her waist as his hands circled just above her hips. Her stomach tightened and yes, she had to block the urge to move aside. The simple contact was thrilling and scary and confusing as hell. At one time, she couldn’t pass by him without him touching her or her reaching out to trail her fingers along his shoulders.
“I’ve missed this. Touching you.” Against the shell of her ear, his breath was hot. It fanned her hair and her hand fisted around the day-glow yellow sponge. “I’m not talking sex, a
lthough, yeah, I miss that a hell of a lot. I just miss you, Jo.”
A saltiness sprang behind her eyelids. She missed it, too. Hadn’t realized how infrequent it had become until one day, suddenly, she felt like she couldn’t touch him. To touch him was to invite him closer and that held so many problems.
At her back, his chest radiated heat. He’d always had an internal furnace and she’d loved snuggling next to him, letting that warmth seep into her skin like a hot summer sun. Her hand trembled but she let go of the sponge and put her hand on his, holding it to her belly. His embrace tightened to a back to chest hug as his nose buried in her hair.
They stood like that for a full minute before she dropped her hand and straightened her shoulders, silent cues for him to let go. He didn’t. His fingers gripped her hips and turned her to face him. She kept her eyes locked on the knot of his Adam’s apple but couldn’t block the sensations of his arms around her waist, his mouth so near her brow, his scent wrapping around her.
“Kiss me, Josie.”
They’d barely kissed in months. Even then, it was a quick pressing of lips and not a real kiss. It was more habit, a passing action like scratching your elbow or blowing your nose. Tossing her hair away from her face, she leaned close and touched her mouth to his. He licked his lips when she pulled away.
“I meant a real kiss. Not that tiny dry shit we’ve been passing out. When did we stop kissing? When did we stop being there for each other?”
“I’ve always been there.”
“In body maybe. You’ll cook me dinner, wash my shirts and make sure I don’t trip over my own stuff but hell, my mother did that shit for me, too.” A strong hand slid up, cupping her neck and pulling her close. His mouth feathered across her cheek then settled above her ear. “But I want my wife, not my mom. Kiss me, Josie. Kiss me like you mean it.”
Fear flooded her mouth. She owed them both this chance. A last ditch effort to save their marriage. It was just a kiss. But then, it was also a starting point and more frightening than anything she’d ever faced. Panic pried a random thought from her lips.
“Do you remember our first kiss?”
Against her cheek, she felt his smile. “In front of the dartboard at O’Toole’s. I was lost that night, did you know that? I’d just planned on having a couple beers with Mike after finishing our first major job but I looked up and there was this gorgeous girl at the table behind us. Her smile rammed into my chest like a bulldozer. She let me buy her a drink then agreed to play darts with me.”
Unhindered, her grin erupted. “I won, too.”
“I was too captivated to concentrate.” He pulled back, a wide smile transforming his face to once she hadn’t seen in ages, one full of joy and free from strain. “You kissed me as a consolation prize. And that was it, I was a goner. I haven’t looked at another woman since.”
His thumb stroked behind her ear, sending a nearly forgotten shiver along her spine. He dipped his chin and she didn’t fight him. She lifted her face and met his mouth. This wasn’t a peck. It wasn’t a prelude to sex, either. It was just a simple reconnection on the most elementary level of their relationship.
Deep inside of her, something stretched. Like an old cat sprawling in a July sunbeam, knots loosened in her psyche she hadn’t known were drawn tight. She’d missed this, missed him.
Her lips parted for his as his tongue crept out, tentatively touching hers then joining in a familiar dance. Heat spread as she let her hands creep up to circle his waist. The hand around her neck tilted her head back, giving him more access to her mouth. His other hand held her close enough that the button on his jeans dug onto her stomach. She didn’t care. For one moment, they were okay, they were right again.
But one moment wasn’t enough. She pulled her mouth from his but couldn’t move away. Her soul craved his contact. Tugging her closer, he just held her, squeezing as if he could imprint her to his frame. Burrowing her nose in his shoulder, Josie sucked in the very familiar scent of him. It was crisp laundry detergent blended with that heady mysterious aroma that was pure Wade. But the body that held her wasn’t what she remembered and the cat inside her curled tight, tensing with unfamiliarity.
He felt her resistance. His chest rose with his sigh as he let go and rubbed her shoulders. “Come sit down.”
Her heart thudded as she walked the few feet to the couch. Wade glanced at her side but took the chair, sitting directly across from her. There was no television at the cabin, no game systems or even any cell service. Josie had promised to drive out to the main road every night to call and check in on Sadie but for now, she had nothing to do but be with Wade.
Sun shone through the small windows, bright white with the last breath of winter’s glory and danced through his hair. It was true black, never giving a hint of brown or red but in certain lights, it seemed to have blue undertones. She’d always envied him that. Her own mousy drab brown would have to be highlighted or colored to give it as much depth as that simple shade of pure black.
Neither of them spoke and she fumbled for something, anything to say. How could they have gotten so far apart when they’d once been inseparable?
He leaned back in the chair but kept his eyes fixed on the braided rug. He had new lines around his mouth, deep grooves than stood out when his lips were pressed tight. Sniffing, he faced the wood stove. There was no window but his gaze was so intense she half-believed he could see the flames inside. “I need you to talk to me.”
“You want me to just talk?”
“Play the game.”
He gave her the power and she floundered. What did he want her to say? It wasn’t like she had a list that if he checked them off would instantly repair things. This wasn’t a leaking pipe or a cracked wall. It was real lives all meshed together in one huge mess. It was all jumbled together like strands of Christmas lights that hadn’t been stored properly. Could they straighten it out? Maybe. But it was a hell of a job to untangle and risky. Any of the tiny bulbs could be broken and then the whole thing would be useless.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Anything you want. When did this go bad for you? I have my guesses but I want to hear it from you.”
When? Scrubbing her hands over her eyes, she thought back. “When Sadie’s was born.”
Running a hand along the back of his neck, he settled deeper into the chair. “For me, too. It was rough.”
She nodded but said nothing.
“You never talked about it. Tell me now.”
Complete truth, no holds barred, no feelings spared. This was the eleventh hour of their life together. Suddenly sapped of strength, she sagged back into the couch.
It was all a terrible blur and yet, so much of it was crystal clear in her mind. But it was disjointed, without a pattern, as if she’d thrown a bunch of pictures on the floor and they were in the wrong order when she picked them up.
“I was so scared. My water had broken. The doctors were so worried about my blood pressure they kept pushing me to agree to the C-section but I wanted to wait for you. But I couldn’t at the end. I was hitting stroke levels. So there I am, terrified and on the operating table, desperate to hear my baby cry, desperate to hear from you, just desperate over everything.”
The fear was seared into her brain. Nothing would ever erase the utter powerlessness she’d felt belly up and alone. Even now, it rushed foul-tasting nausea into her mouth.
“They wouldn’t let me touch her. She was too sick, not crying or anything, so they whisked her right out. It wasn’t until they wheeled me back into the room that Daddy told me you were down in the ER, that you’d been in a wreck.”
Her nose was running and no hunting cabin came equipped with tissues. Wade leaped up and grabbed a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom for her. Unrolling a huge line, she blew her nose. Part of her wanted him to join her on the sofa, wrap his arms around her and just make it all go away. But he moved back to the chair.
“I couldn’t do anything, for
either of you. I was so…helpless.”
The ICU had terrified her. He was so injured, so bandaged and bruised, with wires and machines everywhere, that something in her core had cracked. A desperate fear had poured into her. She didn’t want to be a widow or a single mother. She wanted him to open his eyes, sit up and hold her hand. But he couldn’t. So she dried her tears and dealt with it. She had to get strong. For Sadie. For herself.
The experts were handling his care. She concentrated on the baby. The NICU became a second home. She’d learned the nurses’ names and which one was better at dealing with fussy babies. She’d commiserated with fellow NICU moms and mourned when some of them had to say a final goodbye to too-tiny infants. Each time, she’d kiss Sadie’s little hands and thank everything she hadn’t had to face that.
“I couldn’t hold her for about two weeks because of the breathing tube but when they moved her to C-pap, I held her all the time. I gave her her first bath. She was on a feeding tube for weeks but when I finally got to give her a bottle, I cried the whole time. She was so tiny, so perfect.”
“It was worse when you took her home?”
Josie laughed. “Hell yeah. Then it was all me. If her oxygen stats dropped, I had to stimulate her into breathing deeper. I had to make sure all the wires didn’t get disconnected, monitor her intake levels, weigh her diapers, all that. She ate every hour at first, only a few ounces at a time. And the reflux! Lord, I was doing laundry constantly.”
“Did you miss me at all?”
The question jerked her head up, “Of course.”
She had. How many times had she longed to share the little things with someone, that Sadie had smiled, that she’d pooped in the bathwater, that she’d thrown up so much that day? That whole time was a period of aching loneliness. And more.
The toilet paper in her hands was damp, so she balled it and tossed it onto the end table before tearing another piece that she shredded into tiny strips. Her eyes flicked to the side.
“What just crossed your mind?” It wasn’t cruelty in his query, more a genuine sense of bewilderment.
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