* * *
The weekend wasn't over. The sun rose on Sunday, even if Kathy's heart refused to shine. The decision she had made yesterday left her cold and shaken.
Divorce. The word sounded so final, so permanent – a legality she had been avoiding for three long, hopeful years. Three years of waiting for Dakota to come to her, to choose their marriage over his work. But biding her head in the sand wasn't going to change the facts. She was back in Royal, and Dakota hadn't thought twice about getting involved in another mission. When Thunder needed him, he would go. And she would be left alone.
Again.
Remembering where she was, Kathy took a deep breath and told herself to relax. The weather was perfect for a pool-side barbecue, and Sheikh Rassad had gone to great lengths to entertain his guests. A buffet table displayed a variety of side dishes, many from Ben's homeland, including several large platters of hummus and baskets of pita bread. Of course, the thick prime cuts of beef being seasoned for the grill were pure Texas.
Kathy studied her host and decided he and his wife were an unusual, stunning pair. Ben stood tall and lean, a proper man with copper skin and exotic gray eyes. Jamie, on the other hand, was petite, blond and as spirited as her smile.
"They make an interesting couple, don't they?"
The comment came from Aaron's wife, Pamela. She sat next to Kathy, nibbling on a small variety of salads. Pamela had a quiet charm about her, a former elementary school-teacher with twin dimples and a scatter of freckles.
Kathy smiled at the other woman, thinking her young students must have adored her. "Yes, they do."
Pamela reached for her drink. "The food is wonderful. I've never had some of these dishes before." She pointed to a bulgur wheat salad on her plate. "This is my favorite."
"It's called tabbouleh." Kathy was familiar with Middle Eastern food. One of the advantages, she supposed, of being a world traveler. "It's fairly simple to make. I'm sure Ben's housekeeper will give you the recipe."
"I'll have to ask her. I'm eating as healthily as I can."
Of course she was, Kathy thought, with a tug of admiration and a twinge of envy. Pamela was five months' pregnant, her tummy a small mound beneath a light cotton blouse. Aaron would be a father in the fall.
Kathy resisted the urge to place her hand on Pamela's stomach, to feel the flutter of life. She remembered being pregnant all too well – the thrill, the maternal warmth. She knew the stages of prenatal development, the miracle growing and changing in Pamela's womb. The miracle that had once lived in her womb.
Refusing to dwell on her own loss, Kathy pictured Pamela's child instead. Tiny fingernails forming, a strong, steady heartbeat, an active little creature kicking its legs and sucking its thumb.
"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" she asked, knowing it must be the universal question posed to a mother-to-be.
"It doesn't matter. A boy who looks like Aaron would be wonderful. But having a daughter would be special, too. All those adorable, frilly little clothes." Pamela placed her hand on her tummy in a natural gesture. "If my doctor requests an ultrasound, we're going to ask the technician not to tell us what the baby is. We like the old-fashioned idea of being surprised."
Kathy nodded in agreement. Waiting and wondering had to be one of the pleasures of expectant parenthood – choosing two sets of names, decorating a nursery with either sex in mind.
Pamela kept her hand on her tummy, even when she turned to glance over her shoulder, drawing Kathy's attention to Aaron and Dakota.
The men stood Stetson to Stetson, each with a bottle of beer in hand. Kathy assumed the party was for the Texas Cattleman's Club members who had recovered the Lone Star jewels. It was a close-knit group, and Ben seemed happy to provide a casual, festive afternoon.
Kathy amended her thought as Matt Walker and his fiancée, Lady Helena, headed toward her and Pamela. The party was for the couples who had recovered the jewels, those who shared a common bond. She supposed in that sense, she and Dakota were a couple, too.
Matt placed Lady Helena's plate on the table and lingered for a moment, his hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him with quiet intimacy, and Kathy and Pamela exchanged a glance, their hearts tugging. Lady Helena was still recovering from substantial burns, making the use of her left hand nearly impossible. She also walked with a slight limp, but that didn't make her any less beautiful in Matt's eyes.
"Ladies." He stepped back and tipped his hat, brushing his fiancée's cheek before he detoured to the ice chest and joined Dakota and Aaron.
Lady Helena took her seat and followed his progress. "The women are sampling the buffet, and the men are drinking beer." She smiled and placed a napkin on her lap, her movements careful and slow. "I don't suppose they will be interested in food until those steaks are grilled."
"Deep down, they're just cowboys," Pamela said, indicating the masculine show of boots and trophy belts. "Even the sheikh."
Lady Helena nodded. "That may be true, but he is the only man keeping his wife exceptionally close by."
"I noticed that, too," Kathy added. But she also noticed the tender smiles passing between the newly married couple. The sheikh's young bride all but glowed.
She glanced at her plate, a lump forming in her throat. It made her long for the days when she and Dakota had first fallen in love. The romance and passion, the stolen glances and heartbeats of excitement.
Could she really divorce him? Take that final, devastating step?
Pamela rose. "I can't resist another helping. Just one more salad before the main course." She rubbed her protruding tummy. "And I do have the excuse that I'm eating for two."
As the pregnant woman flashed her dimples and headed for the buffet, Kathy and Lady Helena laughed. Aaron's wife was a true delight.
A quiet, reflective moment ensued, and Kathy gazed out at the scene before her. A Texas-style terrace led to the pool, but an arrangement of pillars and statues resembled the ruins of a classic temple. The sheikh's ranch was a Royal oasis – a unique blend of culture and eclectic architecture. Beyond the pool, an array of colorful blooms charmed the Western landscape with tropical beauty.
"Kathy?"
She met Lady Helena's gaze and realized the other woman had been watching her. "Yes?"
"Thank you so much for what you did. I owe you and Dakota my deepest gratitude, but I don't know how to repay you."
Kathy's eyes misted. Lady Helena was the daughter of an Asterland count, and she had been waiting to return to her homeland to plan her wedding. But the threat of Payune's revolution had kept her from fulfilling that dream. And now that Payune was in jail and her country was safe, Lady Helena and Matt Walker would fly to Asterland to arrange a traditional European ceremony.
"We've already been rewarded by the king," Kathy responded. "And your happiness is gratitude enough. The way Matt feels about you makes it all worthwhile."
"Thank you." The blonde tilted her head. "He is such a wonderful man."
And they deserved a long and happy marriage, Kathy thought. Their union was just beginning – as hers and Dakota's was ending. But she had no right to envy Lady Helena, no right to fixate on the emptiness in her own soul. Today was a celebration, a party of goodwill and cheer.
Pamela returned to the table and the three chatted until a friendly commotion caught their attention. Kathy turned and found herself staring. The last of the guests had arrived. Dr. Justin Webb and his wife Winona apologized for being late, but no one minded their tardiness. Angel, their six-month-old daughter, had just awakened from an overdue nap.
The baby, graced with golden curls and bright blue eyes, clung to her mother with a chubby-cheeked smile. And at that tender moment, Kathy's arms began to ache. She wanted the chance to hold Angel, for as long as the child would allow.
* * *
Dakota was having a wonderful tine. The steak was thick and juicy, the grilled corn dripping with butter, the beer cold and thirst-quenching. Ten adults gathered at one long table, eating
great food and exchanging lively conversation.
He sat next to Kathy, thinking she'd never looked prettier. She wore a breezy spring dress and strappy beige sandals. Her hair fell loose about her shoulders in a shining burst of scarlet waves. He also noticed that she couldn't keep her eyes off the baby.
Little Angel was propped on Winona's lap, waving her hands and making kiddy sounds. And although she had already eaten her own mushy food, that didn't stop her from attacking the contents on her mother's plate.
How did parents do it? he wondered. How did they entertain someone so small? Did they baby-talk and make goofy faces from sunrise to sundown?
"Would you like me to hold her?" Kathy asked Winona. "I've finished my meal."
The other woman removed a squished strawberry from the little girl's hand. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
"No, not at all. I couldn't eat another bite. I've been to the buffet table twice, and you're just getting started."
"In that case, I accept." Winona sent Kathy a grateful smile and came around to their side of the table. Placing her daughter on Kathy's lap, she told the child to be good.
Dakota wondered if that was possible. In spite of Angel's ethereal name, a devilish glint shone in those big blue eyes. Then again, cherubs smiled the way she was smiling, their cheeks pink and chubby.
Her smile widened, and he grinned. She had one tooth, one tiny white chip poking out of her gums.
While Angel bounced on Kathy's lap and laughed, Dakota made one of those ridiculous faces just to amuse her. But when Kathy looked over to see the child's source of entertainment, he stopped acting like an idiot and picked up his corn. Making faces was one thing, getting caught quite another.
Angel laughed again, and he bit into his corn. The cherub seemed pleased that they'd fooled Kathy, even if he hadn't intended to make a game of it.
"What are you giggling about?" Kathy asked the baby.
Me, Dakota wanted to say. He had made Angel laugh. And it felt good, he realized. Babies had never paid much attention to him in the past, but he supposed that was partly his own fault. He wasn't overly animated nor did he have a smooth, soothing voice. He was big and broad and uncertain of how to connect with a being so much smaller than himself.
But he had done all right today. Angel seemed to like him. Kathy fussed adoringly with the little girl, brushing a curl from her eye, fixing her T-shirt when it rolled up her belly. Angel sported a casual yet lacy outfit, complete with matching socks and a ruffled collar. Sugar and spice, Dakota thought. The description fit the child and his wife. They made a beautiful, feminine picture.
From across the table, Winona and Justin watched, pride glittering in their eyes. Angel was their miracle, a baby who had literally been left on Winona's door step. Dakota couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to save something as precious and tender as a child. At the moment, it seemed far more important than anything he had ever done.
A jolt of unexpected longing constricted his chest. Would a child have made a difference in his marriage?
He glanced at Kathy, and Angel laughed again, catching him off guard. He grinned back at her, but this time his wife turned and trapped his gaze.
"So you're the reason she's been giggling all this time?"
He shrugged, his grin still in place. "I guess she thinks I'm funny looking."
The smile that spread across Kathy's face was as sappy as his, and he thought this had to be the strangest, most heartwarming moment they had ever shared. He felt warm and wooly and kind of stupid inside, but he liked the feeling so he kept smiling, even if a flutter of self-consciousness had crept m.
There probably wasn't a person at the barbecue who hadn't noticed his uncharacteristic behavior.
Angel leaned forward and held out her arms, and Kathy's expression softened. "She wants you to hold her."
His pulse jumped, and something akin to panic shot through his veins. Hold her? Him? The big, brutal soldier? What if he dropped her? Damaged the little imp for life? Or what if she decided he wasn't so entertaining up close? What if she squirmed and cried?
Angel made a loud, impatient noise and waved her dimpled arms, demanding the attention he was afraid to give.
"Okay, now. Don't fuss." He placed his hands around the child's waist, handling her as carefully as a ticking bomb. A feminine temper tantrum would only make matters worse.
Angel came to him readily, no tears, no tiny-female fits. Instead she hugged his neck and snuggled against his shoulder. He looked across the table at Justin, who studied him from beneath a straw Stetson, a father watching his baby girl cuddle in another man's arms.
"She smells good," Dakota said, nuzzling the child.
Justin cocked an eyebrow, a slight quirk to his lips. "Did you think my daughter would smell bad?"
Dakota flashed a chagrinned grin. "No." But he hadn't expected to feel like the sun had chosen to shine exclusively on him. Angel's body was soft and warm, her skin a blend of sweet, comforting scents – powder and lotion and flowers blooming along heaven's pearly gates. He stroked her back, then patted her bottom, the rustle of diaper a curious sound.
Angel wasn't exactly still, but she wasn't a concealed bundle of explosives, either. She toyed with his shirt and moved her head back and forth, her hair tickling his chin.
I want one, he thought, turning to meet Kathy's gaze. A shimmering, misty gaze, he noticed. A woman thinking she wanted one, too.
Was it possible that their sudden fantasy could already be taking shape in Kathy's womb? They had made love in Asterland without protection, and mistakes often produced miracles.
Before Dakota could monopolize Angel's time, the baby decided she wanted to try her luck with Ben. She latched onto the sheikh, and the transfer was made. Ben got a syrupy look on his face, and Dakota laughed. One bright-eyed little girl was turning the Texas Cattleman's Club macho militia to mush.
Within twenty minutes Angel had charmed her way around the table, until Justin claimed her for good. Once she was in her daddy's arms, no other man stood a chance.
After the dishes were cleared, the sheikh's loyal housekeeper appeared with a frothy cake, pastel icing dotted with sugared roses.
Ben nodded to the elderly woman and guided his wife to the head of the table. "We would like to thank all of you for coming to our home," he said. "This is a special time for Jamie and me, and we are proud to announce that—"
"I'm pregnant!" his spontaneous young bride blurted, raising the hem of a pale blue blouse just enough to expose a glimpse of her navel.
The customarily proper Ben laughed and kissed her smartly on the lips, and a blast of excitement followed. The women rushed Jamie with exuberant hugs, and the men clapped Ben on the back and pumped his hand. Even Angel squealed in baby wonder.
Dakota congratulated the beaming couple, then stepped back to absorb the joy, the sheer enchantment of life.
God permitting, he and Kathy would be next.
* * *
Chapter 10
«^»
Kathy exhaled a ragged breath, her emotions a mass of conflicting energy. Being happy for your friends and sad for yourself presented an uneasy combination. She craved a cup of herbal tea, her Irish grandmother's remedy for relaxation.
"Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?" she asked Dakota, slipping off her sandals. Bare feet helped, too. And curling up in an oversize chair.
"No, thanks. I had coffee at Ben's." He removed his hat and hung it on a nearby rack.
She nodded and headed into the kitchen. Searching through the tea bags, she chose a lemon flavor promising to lift her spirits. Tea from the microwave wasn't as soothing as tea from the stove, so she set the water to boil and waited.
She could hear Dakota playing with Sugar, tossing the dog's favorite ball so the Maltese could romp down the hall. The chipper little bark should have snapped her out of this confusing depression, but somehow it only managed to intensify her loss.
Kathy carried the steaming brew into the
living room, then frowned when Dakota and Sugar followed. She wasn't up for company or conversation, but she couldn't explain why she needed a few quiet moments of solitude. It would mean alerting Dakota to her mood, something she preferred not to do.
Dakota settled onto the sofa, and Sugar leaped up beside him, a striped ball in her mouth. She dropped it and nudged him, pursuing lapdog attention. He obliged with several gentle strokes. Satisfied, Sugar closed her eyes, one paw guarding the ball.
They made a touching pair, a domestic sight that hurt Kathy's grieving heart. She sipped the lemon tea, praying for the promised lift. Wallowing in self-pity at the expense of someone else's good fortune placed her in a selfish, unhealthy light, even in her own bleak eyes.
She knew better. God help her, she did.
Tucking her feet beneath her, she studied the fireplace. Although the weather wasn't permitting, she imagined burning logs just to calm herself. Winter was her favorite season – mistletoe, evergreens and the woodsy scent of a crackling fire.
"I had a great time. Didn't you?" Dakota asked.
"Yes." But it had been too much for one day. Too many happy couples, too many pregnant women. One moment at the barbecue she had been fine, the next floating through the reverie and wishing Angel was the baby she had lost.
"Are you tired, sweetheart?"
She glanced up from her drink. "Do I look tired?"
"A little. But you look pretty, too."
She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut and make the world go away. How could she look appealing, the woman who wanted to cry because her friends were either getting married or having babies? She didn't deserve pretty.
The tea wasn't working. Kathy's emotions were fighting a losing battle. And contemplating divorce while others found happiness was the self-inflicted culprit. She had spent the past three years pretending divorce wasn't a viable option. At least not to her. If Dakota had made the choice, then she would have told herself that he'd never really loved her, that it had all been a mistake. But that hadn't happened. No papers were served, no irreconcilable differences charted. Instead they stayed in limbo, legally married with no future to speak of.
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