Marriage On The Edge

by Sandra Marton

  He looked up. Her hands were balled on her hips; her eyes were steely.

  "And chocolate cake." Her smile was feline. "For dessert."

  "Meat loaf?" he said after a minute. "And chocolate cake?"

  "That's right." She looked down and brushed an imaginary speck of lint from her shorts. " I also thought you'd like to know that I just tossed it all into the garbage."

  And, with that, she turned on her heel and marched away. Gage sat there for a while, trying to piece things together, but only somebody who was into reading minds could have managed that. Finally he got to his feet and made his way to the kitchen. Natalie was there, scrubbing furiously at a pan.

  "Look," he said, taking the first step as cautiously as a tightrope walker above a bottomless chasm, "I'm trying to figure out what's going on here. But I'm not getting anywhere, Nat. I really don't understand any of this."

  She looked up at him. "I know you don't. That's the worst part."

  "Natalie. Natalie, sweetheart ... "

  Natalie hurled the pan against the wall. "Don't you sweetheart me," she cried. Then she burst into tears and ran from the room.

  And Gage ... Gage was finally ready to admit the rope was too thin and the chasm too wide.

  He needed help.

  He took the phone into the den, shut the door and sat down in a chair. The stares of all those moth-eaten animal heads seemed focused on him as he punched in a number.

  Travis answered on the first ring. "Trav? It's Gage."

  "Gage? What's the matter, man? You should-" "Listen, I, ah, I just wanted to ask you a question."

  "Yeah? Gage, you sure you're okay? You sound-"

  ''I'm trying to talk quietly, dammit! I don't want Natalie to hear."

  "Oh." Travis cleared his throat. "What's up?"

  "Well ... " Gage cleared his throat, too. "Listen, when one person wants a divorce but the other person doesn't... " "Damn. Is that still on? I kept hoping you and Nat would-"

  "The person who doesn't want it can fight it, right?" "Well, I guess, but why would I have wanted to? I sure as hell didn't love-"

  "I'm not talking about you. I'm asking you for legal advice. What can a man do, when his wife says she loves him but then does everything she can to prove she doesn't love him, after all." Gage shut his eyes. "I know I sound crazy, Trav, and I'm sorry. It's just that this is confusing."

  "Love, you mean." Travis gave a funny laugh. "Yeah, it sure is."

  "Trav, look, I know you don't understand. I mean, I know you're not in love, that you've never really been in love..."

  "Love sucks, man." Travis's voice roughened. "A man loses his equilibrium, turns into some jackass he doesn't recognize. And for what All so a woman can drive him crazy, turn him into a-a gibbering idiot."

  "Trav? Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," Travis said, and gave that funny laugh again.

  "I'm fine."

  "You sure? You don't sound okay."

  "Listen, Gage, I'm-I'm kind of in the middle of something here. You want to know if you can stop Natalie from going through with this divorce? The answer is no, pal. I'm sorry to tell you this but if she wants out, she's out."

  Gage nodded. "Yeah. I kind of figured ... " He blew out a breath. "Thanks anyway."

  "Gage? Don't let her go. Don't ever let the woman you love go, not if you have to turn cartwheels to keep her."

  "Dammit," Gage said, "I have been turning cartwheels ... " But he was already talking to a dial tone.

  He sat there for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out what to do next, when, suddenly, the phone rang.

  "Hello?" he said cautiously. "Gage?"

  Gage frowned. "Slade? Slade, how in hell-" "Travis called me."

  "Travis? But I didn't give him this phone number." "Welcome to the age of the chip," Slade said dryly. "His Caller ID box gave it to him, buddy. You didn't have to. Where are you, by the way? I don't recognize the area code." ''I'm in Palm Beach. And don't ask, okay? It's a long story. "

  "Yeah, well, I just phoned to tell you that Trav is right." "He is? About what?"

  "About not letting Natalie get away from you."

  Gage sighed. "For a couple of freewheeling bachelors, you guys sure are full of advice for the lovelorn."

  "I'm not joking, Gage." Slade's voice dropped low. "You love a woman, you're a damn fool if you ever let her walk out of your life. You understand?"

  Gage's brows rose. "Not really. I mean, I agree with the advice, but aren't you the guy who's watched legions of broads march into the sunset?"

  Slade made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "Legions don't count for a damn, bro. It's just one woman, the woman, who does. A man finds her, he should have his head examined if he lets her get away. You got that?"

  Gage nodded. "I've got it. But you're the last one I'd expect-"

  "Tell me about it," Slade said, and the phone went dead. Gage stared blindly at the wall. His brothers made it sound so easy. Hell, it had been easy, back when he and Natalie had first met.

  When they'd first met.

  "Yes," he murmured, and put the phone to his ear again. Half an hour later, he scaled the stairs. That was how It felt, anyway, by the time he reached the open door to Natalie's room.

  She was at the window, gazing out across the sea. When he said her name, she spun around and stared at him.

  "Gage? How did you-"

  "Natalie," he said in a voice that left no room for questions, "change into jeans. Grab a jacket. And meet me downstairs. "

  "What for?"

  "We're taking a trip."

  "Are you out of your mind?"

  "No," he said as he headed out the door. "Yes. Hell, maybe I am." He turned and looked straight into her eyes. "Remember what you said tonight? About where we began?"

  Natalie's forehead creased. "I have no idea what you're talking ab... You mean, what I said about Superstition Butte?"

  Gage nodded. "That's right, babe. And that's exactly where we're going. Back to where it all started. To Superstition Butte."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  IT SEEMED a strange time for Gage to be making bad jokes.

  "Superstition Butte," Natalie said, and laughed. Gage didn't laugh. He didn't even smile.

  "That's right. And ... " He checked his watch. "And we've only got a few minutes to get ready, so you'd better hurry."

  Natalie stared at him. Her smile began to fade when she saw his grim expression and realized he was serious.

  "Are you crazy? We are not going to Superstition Butte.

  We're not going anywhere. It's the middle of the night..."

  "Ten minutes, Natalie." He spoke calmly, resolutely, and she began to worry. Maybe his mild concussion hadn't been mild at all. Maybe he'd really suffered some kind of brain injury.

  What came next? Hallucinations? Coma? Maybe he was going crazy.

  If so, he was certainly doing it in a strange way. He'd made a decision. They were going to Espada, and that was that. When she tried to point out that he was a mass of bruises and stitches, that his wrist was wrapped in enough elastic bandage to last an ice hockey team a month, he looked at her as if she were crazy to think of letting minor things like those get in the way.

  So Natalie tried a different approach.

  "Gage," she said in the sort of reasonable tone she thought best to use with someone who'd lost his grip on reality, "you might be in the mood to go to Espada, but I'm not. Really, you can't just expect me to--"

  "Yeah, babe," he said, and gave her a steely look, "I do expect it. Now, are you going to get out of those shorts and into a pair of jeans by yourself, or am I going to do it for you?"

  She gave a strangled laugh and started to tell him that somebody who looked like a leftover from a Mad Max movie was hardly a threat... but then she changed her mind. Gage was battered but not beaten. The look in his eye said it all. He'd follow through on his promise, all right, even if it meant another visit to the emergency room.

  So, to keep him calm, she put
on jeans, grabbed a jacket, and followed him downstairs.

  ''I'll drive," she said, trying to sound as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

  Gage took her arm. "No need."

  He opened the front door and she saw the taxi in front of the house .

  'Get in," he said calmly, and he got in beside her and told the driver to take them to the airport.

  Half an hour later, seated beside him in the passenger section of a small, sleek chartered jet, Natalie was wondering which one of them had lost touch with reality, Gage for making these arrangements or she, for letting him carry them through.

  "Are we really going to Espada?" she asked as the plane raced down the runway.

  Gage looked at her. "I said we were." "It's the middle of the night!"

  "It's nine o'clock." His lips twitched. "Seems to me we've stayed up later than this, once or twice."

  "But why? Why go to Espada?" Natalie struggled to keep her voice from rising. "When you're hurt? When nobody's expecting us? What's the point?"

  "One," he said, ticking the answers off on his fingers, "we're not really going to Espada. We're going to the Butte. Two, as long as I'm not flying this thing, my being hurt isn't a problem. In fact, I'm looking forward to catching a couple of hours sleep. Three, Abel's expecting us-"

  "Abel? You phoned Abel?"

  "I did. He's meeting us with a car. And four, if you don't mind, I think I'II go back to item two and get some shuteye."

  "But," Natalie sputtered, "but-but-"

  It was useless. Gage had already tipped back his seat, closed his eyes, and drifted off.

  After a while, she tipped back her seat, too, and tried to do the same thing. It was impossible. She was too upset, too confused, too everything.

  She looked out the window. The sky was bright with stars.

  The moon was an ivory globe. Back at the beach, the water would be as warm and silken as the air.

  It was the kind of night to spend in the arms of a lover. In Gage's arms.

  But she'd never go into his arms again.

  Natalie's throat constricted. She loved him. She always would. Even after his callousness tonight, even though he didn't understand her-she loved him. That would never change. There was no use pretending that it would.

  And she knew that Gage loved her, loved her very much in his own way.

  The trouble was that loving each other wasn't enough. They saw life differently. They wanted different things from it. That was what had driven them apart, and that was what would keep them from ever living together again.

  Natalie closed her eyes.

  It hadn't always been like this. When they'd married, the only thing they'd wanted was to be together. To build a life, and share it.

  When had it all changed?

  She could remember how proud of him she'd been, when Gage started Baron Resorts, and how happy she'd been to be part of the empire he was building. She'd learned to organize a dinner for twenty on half an hour's notice, to always have an overnight case ready so that she could fly halfway around the world with him minutes after he phoned. And yes, she'd loved the wonderful things he'd given her. She'd felt like a princess, living inside a fairy tale. And when she'd discovered she was pregnant, her happiness had only grown.

  Tears stung her eyes.

  But the fairy tale hadn't had a happy ending. She'd lost her baby. Then she'd lost her husband.

  This weekend, just for a little while, she'd thought-she'd let herself think-that things could work out. She loved Gage, she'd told herself. And he loved her. That was enough. People who loved each other didn't just turn and walk away from a marriage.

  Oh, but they did. Walking away was the only way to save whatever remained of self-respect, the only way to keep love from turning into something dark and ugly.

  Walking away was exactly what she had to do.

  I don't have a condom. Gage's voice rang inside her head.

  God knows, we don't want to get you pregnant.

  Tears seeped from under her lashes.

  Those words had marked the end of everything. She knew if she stayed with Gage, she'd hear them every time he reached for her. She'd think of the child they'd lost, the child he'd never wanted. And, eventually, whatever respect and love she had for her husband would die.

  It was far, far better to live with the memory of love than to watch it die.

  Natalie dragged the back of her hand across her eyes but it didn't help. The tears spilled hot and fast down her cheeks.

  Compromise, Crista had said, but compromise wasn't possible, not for Gage and her. You couldn't compromise on a dream.

  She turned her face towards the window, towards the welcome darkness of the night.

  Oh, what a glorious dream it had been. So bright, so shining ...

  Gradually, her tears slowed. And, at last, she fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

  Gage woke as the plane was starting its descent.

  Natalie was curled in her seat beside him, her face turned to the window, her breathing deep and even.

  "Natalie," he said softly. She didn't stir. "Babe?" He leaned closer. Her scent rose to him, a heady mix of the perfume he loved and her soft, silky woman-heat. He longed to rub his chin against her hair, to take her in his arms and wake her with kisses, but instinct told him now wasn't the time.

  There were things to talk about first, questions to ask, questions to answer.

  "Nat. Wake up. We're landing."

  Natalie murmured something in her sleep. She turned to him, burrowing against him the way she used to, her head against his shoulder, her hand on his chest, and all his resolve fled. He tipped her face up and gently brushed her lips with his.

  "Gage," she sighed. The hand that lay against his chest moved up and curled around his neck. The soft caress swept through him like fire. He groaned, drew her closer, and kissed her more deeply. Her mouth softened under his. Her lips clung, then parted ...

  And she awoke.

  For an instant, as her eyes opened, he saw love and desire shining in their depths. But then she pushed free of his embrace and sat up stiffly, behaving as if they were strangers, her eyes cool, her expression distant.

  "Sorry," she said. "I must have been dreaming."

  Of me? Gage almost said, but he didn't. He was afraid of her answer. Maybe he was kidding himself. What possible chance did he have of winning Natalie back, if she could turn to stone in his arms as he kissed her?

  But she hadn't been stone, not when they'd made love the other night, not even a few hours ago in the kitchen.

  The plane touched down. Gage unbuckled his seat belt.

  Natalie loved him. She'd already admitted it. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

  And he had to find a way to make her tell him why loving just wasn't enough.

  It was hot outside the plane, the air so thick and humid it seemed to cling to their skin.

  ''I'd forgotten what it can be like here in midsummer," Natalie said as they stepped into the Texas night.

  "It'll be cooler up on Superstition Butte."

  A breeze plucked at a lock of her hair, and she thumbed it behind her ear.

  "Is that really where we're going?"

  Gage looked at her, his eyes dark and unsmiling: "I've never lied to you before, babe, and I'm not going to start now. I said Superstition Butte and that's exactly where we're going."

  Abel was waiting alongside the runway, leaning against a battered pickup truck. One of the hired hands stood alongside.

  "Mr. Gage, Ms. Natalie," Abel said. His brows rose as Gage stepped into the glare of the headlights. "My, oh, my," he said, "don't you look interestin'? You taken to ridin' Brahma bulls?"

  Gage grinned. "Riding a Brahma would be an improvement. You brought the car?"

  Abel jerked his head towards the hired hand. "Bob drove her. She's parked right over there."

  Gage shook hands with the two men. Then he took Natalie's elbow and walked her into the darkness. After a fe
w yards, she came to an abrupt stop.

  "I don't believe it!" She swung towards Gage. He could see the smile on her face. "That can't be what I think it is ... can it?"

  "If you think it's myoid heap from high school," he said, smiling back at her, "it's exactly what you think it is."

  She stared at the beat-up old Chevy. "But I thought you'd junked it, years ago."