“Ladies?” Claire asked. “What ladies?”
“The ladies Mr. Anderson is interviewing.”
Claire stopped cold, along with her heart. “Interviewing? Jake is home?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s been home all afternoon.”
“I see.” What a stupid thing to say. She didn’t ‘see’ anything. “Do you know why he’s interviewing ladies here?”
A worried look stole across Mrs. Sanchez’s face. “Why, for a nanny. For the baby. I thought you knew.”
The shopping bag dropped from Claire’s numb fingers. Her purse quickly followed. “No, I didn’t. Is...” She tried to swallow the brick caught in her throat. “Is my husband in the study?”
“Yes, Mrs. Anderson. Oh, dear. I shouldn’t have said—”
“No, Mrs. Sanchez.” Claire tried to place a hand on the woman’s arm, but her dead limbs wouldn’t obey her brain’s commands. “It’s all right. You can go on back to the kitchen now.”
Mrs. Sanchez left, casting uncertain looks over her shoulder. But Claire was too stunned and hurt to care about reassuring her again.
A nanny. He was hiring a nanny.
Unable to believe he could be so callous just days after he’d sworn to consult her before he made any decisions, she woodenly put one foot in front of the other and slowly walked down the hall to the study. The door was open.
The words that floated out confirmed his guilt. Each question he asked the applicant drove another knife into Claire’s heart.
Once again, without saying a word to her, he was taking away her right to choose, ripping away her freedom.
How could he do this to her? Didn’t he know what hiring a nanny without telling her would do to her?
She knew the answer to those questions before they finished echoing in her mind.
Of course he knew. She’d let him know in no uncertain terms how she felt about being excluded from these decisions. He knew exactly what he was doing in that office. He just didn’t care.
Pain engulfed her in drowning waves.
He didn’t need her. With his money, he could replace anything or anyone in his life. At that very moment he was replacing her.
Jacob Anderson could buy anything he wanted. He’d bought a broodmare for his child. Now he was buying a caregiver. He was taking her baby away from her as surely as if he were ripping it from her arms.
Claire leaned against the wall, afraid her knees were about to buckle.
Why? How could he throw her love away?
Disposable. That’s what he’d been to his father, his fiancée, his friends. Now everything in Jake’s life was disposable. Even love. He’d been thrown away so many times, it was all he knew how to do.
He probably thought she would throw him away, too, eventually. He didn’t trust her love, so he was making certain his child would remain his by hiring the caregiver himself.
Eli Anderson had taught his son well.
Poor Jake. He would never know true happiness.
But then, he would probably never realize it.
Tears stung Claire’s eyes, but she blinked them back. She had to go into the study and tell Jake exactly what she thought about his deceit.
She straightened from the wall, then shook her head. What was the point? How many times had they had this discussion? He hadn’t learned anything so far. Why would today be any different?
Blindly she stumbled toward the door and walked out of the penthouse. Out of his life. She wasn’t about to let him take her baby. Her child was all she had left.
When Jake walked the nanny to the door, he cast a puzzled glance at the shopping bag on the floor in the foyer. After letting the woman out, he turned and froze.
Next to the shopping bag lay Claire’s purse.
His heart leaped into his throat. What in God’s name had happened?
“Mrs. Sanchez!” He bent and picked up her purse, then sprinted to the bedroom. Was she sick? Did she need him? Why hadn’t she come into the study and told—
He skidded to a halt in the middle of their empty bedroom. Suddenly he knew. She had come to the study—while he was interviewing the nanny.
He threw her purse onto the bed and stabbed his fingers back through his hair, his heart racing like a greyhound in the home stretch.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. What was she doing home so early? In the month they’d been married, she’d never left the office before six—and that only when he dragged her out. He’d counted on her staying put at the office. That’s why he’d conducted the interviews here.
“Mr. Anderson?” Mrs. Sanchez appeared in the door. “You called?”
“My wife was here, wasn’t she?”
Mrs. Sanchez wrung her hands. “Yes, sir. She got upset when she heard you were interviewing nannies. I’m sorry, sir. I thought she knew.”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Sanchez. It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
“Is she gone, then, sir?”
His heart stopped dead in his chest.
She’s gone, son. Take it like a man.
Like hell.
He wasn’t going to let her run away from him. Okay, he’d made yet another mistake. It wasn’t the first, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
She loved him. He knew she did. So why couldn’t she trust him? Why couldn’t she believe he loved her and only had her best interest—
Suddenly he heard the words echoing inside his head, and knew they were true. He loved her. There was not a shred of doubt in his mind. Somewhere along the way he’d learned how to love. Somehow she’d drilled it into his thick cowboy skull.
He wasn’t about to let her go, knowing that.
“I don’t suppose you have any idea where she went?” he asked Mrs. Sanchez.
She spread her hands. “I didn’t even know she left. The office, maybe?”
Jake shook his head. “Probably not, but I’ll call. Don’t worry. Wherever she went, I’ll find her. I’ll hire every private detective in the city at twice their normal rate if I have to.”
“Can I help?”
Jake looked at her thoughtfully. “You have a cousin who drives a cab, don’t you?” When she nodded, he said, “Could you please call him and see if he can find out if she took a cab somewhere, and if so, where? Although I don’t know how she’ll pay for one. She left her purse here.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll call Bernardo right now. He’ll help.”
Jake followed her out of the bedroom and strode into the study. As he made his way to his desk, he glanced out the windows to see snow swirling down from heavy gray clouds. He remembered the radio predicting six inches.
What was she doing out in this kind of weather? Where had she gone with no money? Without even a credit card?
He had to find her—quickly. No telling what might happen if he didn’t. He couldn’t lose her now, not when he’d just discovered how much he loved her. He’d do anything to keep her safe. Anything.
Except let her go.
She couldn’t just give him her love and then snatch it away. Not without one hell of a fight.
Chapter Twelve
Three hours past midnight, Jake switched off the Jeep’s engine in front of Claire’s apartment—the town house he thought she’d moved out of. For the past ten hours he’d pushed away the anguish of her leaving with frantic attempts to find her. Not until he pulled her keys out of the purse she’d left behind did he realize where she’d gone.
Looking down, he fingered the heavy set of keys attached to a large, red, sequined heart until he came to the gold key with the red plastic top. The day before they married he took this key from her to open her apartment. That she still had it spoke volumes about how she viewed their relationship.
Why would she pay rent on an apartment she wasn’t using unless she wasn’t expecting their marriage to last? Unless she wasn’t committed to him? Unless she didn’t love him?
His eyes rose to scan the facade of her town house.
No lights shone through the dark, snowy night. No face peeked out a window. No curtains moved to attest there was anybody home. But he knew he’d find her here.
Pain as deep as he’d ever known pressed like a ponderous weight on his chest, constricting his breathing, reducing his heartbeat to a slow, dull thud.
Abandoned again. Alone again.
He forced the fingers that gripped the steering wheel to release it, then opened the car door. He couldn’t sit here feeling sorry for himself. Not yet. If there was an outside shot he could convince her to stay with him, he had to take it. He’d do anything to make her believe in him again—assuming she ever had.
Jake slipped through the inches-deep snow that had made driving hazardous and let himself into the apartment. Warm air hit him with a whiff of vanilla potpourri, a fragrant reminder of the days before they married. He remembered the scent making him want to gobble Claire up, down to the last delicious crumb.
But that’s exactly what she didn’t want—to be swallowed by a man. He’d thought he understood her need for independence, but now he knew he’d underestimated the depth of her feeling. He prayed his mistake wouldn’t cost him the only real happiness he’d ever known.
Jake’s hope faltered as he swept through the rooms on the ground floor, turning on lights. They revealed an apartment little changed from the last time he’d seen it. If she’d moved anything out, he couldn’t tell. Every piece of furniture was still in place. Pictures of her family still adorned the walls. There was even food in her refrigerator, though nothing perishable. It looked like the apartment of someone who was away on an extended vacation, someone who expected to return.
He finally found her upstairs, asleep on top of her brightly flowered comforter. He turned on the lamp, then sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked exhausted.
Claire slept on her side, facing him. Her lustrous brown hair fanned across the pillow, but her cheeks were streaked with dried tears. They gave him a small measure of hope. At least she cared enough to cry.
He gently shook her slender shoulder.
She moaned and burrowed deeper into the pillow, murmuring, “Five more minutes.”
He smiled sadly at the familiar reaction.
After tearing off his coat and tie and wrenching off his shoes, he stretched out beside her and tenderly gathered her in his arms. She murmured his name and snuggled closer.
Hope seeped in to lighten his despair. She trusted him, needed him in her sleep. Why couldn’t she believe in him when she was awake?
He touched his lips to hers and tasted the salt of her tears.
“Claire, wake up,” he said quietly. “Come on, angel. We need to talk.”
“We do?” she asked sleepily.
He kissed her forehead. “Yes.”
She threw her head back over his arm. “But I just—”
Suddenly her expression froze. She took a quick glance around the room, then her eyes returned to his. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re here. Where else would I be?”
She shoved at his chest. “Let go of me.”
“Never.”
“Go to hell.”
“That’s where I’ve been all night. I didn’t like it.” His voice was on the edge of cracking. He flexed his arms, pulling her a shade closer. “Why did you run away?”
“I didn’t run away. I left,” she answered woodenly.
“Because I wanted to help you?”
“Help me? Why do you keep doing exactly what you want to do, then call it helping me? You treat me just like my brothers do. Like I’m a helpless little girl.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” he insisted.
“You’re doing it now, holding on to me like a naughty child.” She took a ragged breath. “Let go of me.”
Jake hesitated. “Promise you won’t leave again?”
A pained expression flickered across her face, but was quickly replaced with determination. “I agree we need to talk. But let’s do it like adults. I can’t think straight when you’re touching me.”
Encouraged by her admission, he released his hold.
She rose slowly, as if moving were an effort. “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll make coffee.”
Without stopping to put on his shoes, he followed her downstairs. He stood in the doorway and watched her pull a can of coffee from a cabinet. “I thought you’d moved out of this apartment.”
Claire paused with the lid halfway off. Accusation was plain in Jake’s voice. He had every right to be hurt, but that wasn’t the issue now. “No, I didn’t.”
“You never planned on staying with me, did you? What happened this afternoon was just an excuse to do what you’ve been planning to do all along—get pregnant and leave.”
She flinched. She blindly emptied a scoop of coffee into the filter. Though he was wrong, she wasn’t going to offer any excuses. There weren’t any.
Suddenly she was seized from behind so firmly she couldn’t struggle.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you. Honest. I just... I’ve been going crazy all night trying to find you. I didn’t know where you could’ve gone, and in this weather...”
His arms felt like home, like shelter against the storm raging through her. How could that be, when he was the storm? “Let go, Jake. I have to make the coffee.”
“Damn the coffee.”
“I can’t do this anymore.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t go on like this, hoping you’ll love me, pretending I can teach you how.”
He turned her in his arms. “I do love you.”
Claire froze. How long had she been waiting to hear him say those words? Too long.
She shoved his arms from her shoulders and retreated to the other side of the room. “How can you say that? You were in the process of replacing me.”
“Replacing you?” He threw his hands up. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
Her voice rose. “You were interviewing nannies. Why would you do that unless you didn’t trust me to take care of your precious heir?”
“What do you mean take care of my precious heir?” he roared. “You’re working eleven, twelve hours a day. You don’t have time to take care of yourself. I was hiring a nanny to help you. You were making yourself sick, which made me sick worrying about you.”
She stared at him across the kitchen, trying to gauge the truth behind his words.
He held his hands out beseechingly. “Claire, don’t you understand? I love you.”
Sadness welled up inside of her, so deep she barely kept herself from crying out in pain. “Maybe you think you do, but you don’t.”
“I do love you. I swear.”
“Only under the condition that you can arrange everything in our lives so I can’t make a mistake.” She shook her head slowly. “For a while I thought you might be leaning to love me, to need me. I thought that even though we didn’t start out like normal couples, we had a chance to build something together.”
“We can, but only if you stay with me.”
“No, Jake. How can we build something when you don’t trust me not to leave you?”
He froze. “What?”
“I’m not your father, Jake. And I’m not Melissa.”
He flinched, as if she’d slapped him. He stared at her, eyes wide, unblinking. The world shrank to the space between them, but it was a chasm so wide it might never be crossed.
Suddenly he spun around and clutched the edge of the sink with a white-knuckled grip.
Claire’s heart stopped beating. Until that moment she’d believed they. could somehow work it out. Now she knew she’d lost him—forever.
She stumbled back and fell against the smooth, cool door of the refrigerator. She wanted to beat on it and scream down the walls with her pain.
“Oh, God, it’s true,” he said finally, brokenly. “I never stopped to think about it. Never dared let myself for fear it might come true. But you’re right. Deep down, I thought you’d leave me...like ev
eryone else.”
He turned to her, his features tight with pain. “I wanted to control every aspect of your life. But it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you not to make a mistake. It’s because I didn’t trust myself. No one’s ever loved me, you see. Not my father, not my fiancée, not—”
He stopped to clear his throat. His beloved face held such torture, she had to grab the handle of the refrigerator door to keep from running across the kitchen and burying herself in his arms.
“When you told me you wouldn’t love me, I knew that’s what I wanted more than anything else in the world. When I started to believe you actually might, I knew I had to hold on to you by any means I could. I had to protect you. I had to make you see I was worthy of your love.”
Tears burned Claire’s eyes, blurring her vision. “Jake, you are.”
He shook his head violently. “I went about it all wrong. I see that now. I couldn’t let you into my heart because I couldn’t let you see I wasn’t perfect. Because then you might leave me.” His eyes were wild. “I was afraid, Claire. Afraid of losing you...but I did anyway, didn’t I?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew exactly how much it cost him to admit his fear. How much self-control he had to overcome to humble himself. She’d never loved her strong, proud husband more.
She studied his desolate face for an endless moment. “You love me?”
Hope flared in his deep brown eyes. He took a step toward her, but she shook her head so he stopped.
He lifted his hands. “More than my own life.”
She searched his face intently. “You told me you don’t believe in love.”
He winced. “I was a stupid fool. Maybe there was a time when I didn’t, but I can’t even remember it now. Claire, I love you so much I don’t know where you begin and I end. And I sure as hell don’t want to find out.”
She hesitated. She wanted so much to believe him. Too much. “Are you sure it’s not just because I’m going to have your baby?”
“Absolutely. While we were at the ranch I thought about the question you asked before we drove out there. Remember? You asked what I’d do if you couldn’t get pregnant. I realized at the ranch that I wouldn’t have cared. I decided if it came to that, I’d leave the Bar Hanging Seven to Hank’s kids, along with the money. I knew I’d never let you go.”
And Cowboy Makes Three (Cowboys To The Rescue 2) Page 18
