Annie and Lucas had been married for two weeks. They remained polite, almost comically so, especially in the bedroom. Every night he held her close, and every night she grew more accustomed to sleeping in his arms. He kissed her when he left for work in the morning and again before they went to sleep at night. Light kisses, more a quick touch of their lips than a real display of affection.
Annie was happy with this state of affairs. It was early yet, she reasoned, and they had a lot to learn about each other.
The girls accepted her without qualms and were excited to have a new mother. Annie lavished them with love and attention, and they thrived right along with Annie, who felt a new confidence, a new serenity—the result, she knew, of being needed and loved.
What with settling in, Annie had little time to spend with Jane, whose baby was due any day. Jane’s parents had decided to come after the birth, so Annie had volunteered to help the midwife when her friend went into labor. Lucas had promised to tag along in case Cal needed someone there for him.
The call came early Monday morning soon after Annie had opened the bookstore. “It’s time,” Cal said calmly.
“I’m on my way,” Annie told him and immediately phoned Lucas. Her second call was to her in-laws to ask if they could watch the girls.
When he pulled up in front of the bookstore, Lucas seemed a lot more excited than Cal had sounded on the phone.
“How’s Cal doing?” he asked with a wide grin as she slipped into the seat next to him.
“Fine,” she said and shook her head. How typical of a man to inquire about the father, instead of the mother!
The drive from town to the Patterson ranch took forty minutes—and that was with Lucas risking a speeding ticket. Cal threw open the door to the back porch the minute they arrived.
“Smile, Cal,” Annie told him after giving him an affectionate hug. “A beautiful baby is about to be born.”
“It’s going to be a difficult birth,” Cal muttered, pale with concern. “I’m sure of it. And Jane refuses to go to the hospital in Brewster. The woman is too damn stubborn for her own good.”
“You don’t know what it’s going to be like,” Annie said, wanting to reassure him. “Relax, will you?”
“But we do know,” Grady Weston countered. He and Caroline, along with Glen and Ellie Patterson, had both come to lend their support. “The baby’s going to take after Cal, and everyone knows what a big head Cal has.”
Glen hooted with laughter.
“But Jane’s overdue,” Cal said in serious tones. “The baby’s going to be big. Huge. Has anyone noticed her belly recently? She should be in the hospital.”
Annie had heard all this before. How could anyone say a baby was overdue? It seemed to her that Jane’s son or daughter would arrive at exactly the right time, despite what others predicted.
“Who’s with Jane?” Annie asked. She assumed Cal would want to be with his wife.
“Leah Collins, the midwife,” Cal told her, then added sheepishly, “Jane kicked me out. She said if all I was going to do was argue with her, she wanted me out of the room.”
“Go to Jane,” Lucas told Annie. “As soon as Cal’s willing to admit his wife knows more about birthing babies than he does, I’ll send him in.”
Annie was halfway to the bedroom when she stopped. “Did anyone think to call Jane’s parents?” The Dickinsons would be anxious to hear the news. Jane was, after all, their only daughter.
“Yes, I’d better let them know,” Cal said, and headed for the phone. He cast Annie a look of gratitude.
Despite Cal’s dire predictions of a long and difficult labor, Paul Calvin Patterson arrived without a hitch at two minutes to ten that evening. Cal was with Jane and Leah, and Annie had dozed off against Lucas’s shoulder when she awoke to the sound of an infant’s wail and a jubilant shout of “Hot damn!”
Soon afterward, Cal burst through the bedroom door and let out a cry of sheer undiluted joy. “I got me a son!”
A round of hugs and tears followed, and soon the living room started to empty. Before she left, Annie went in to see her friend and hold the baby. Gazing down at the newborn, Annie experienced an ache of longing that reached deep inside her. Tears welled in her eyes.
“He looks just like Cal,” she whispered, brushing a finger over the fine soft hair.
“It’s the big head,” Lucas whispered from behind her, making Annie smile.
Annie rested on Lucas’s shoulder again during the ride home. Rather than wake the girls, who were spending the night with Lucas’s parents, they went back to the house alone.
Lucas sorted through the mail while Annie kicked off her shoes and poured them each a glass of wine. This was the first night they’d been without the girls since their honeymoon. After the long exciting day, they were both exhausted.
“I’m thrilled for Cal and Jane,” Lucas said as they prepared for bed.
“This is the first time I’ve been at a birth,” Annie told him. “I’ve never experienced anything even close to this kind of feeling before.” Annie had fallen asleep early in the evening and missed the actual birth—but she didn’t need to be there every minute to experience the wonder and exhilaration.
She finished brushing her teeth, but remained standing in front of the bathroom sink, savoring the good feelings that had come with the birth of Jane and Cal’s son.
“Annie, are you ready for bed?” Lucas joined her in the bathroom and stood behind her.
She turned to face him. Up to this point they’d exchanged chaste careful kisses. Now Annie’s eyes locked with his as she slipped her arms up his chest and linked them around his neck.
Lucas inhaled sharply. “Annie—”
“Yes…I’m ready for bed,” she murmured and brought her mouth to his.
The raw hunger that exploded between them took her breath away.
They stood in the tiny bathroom with their arms wrapped around each other, sharing deep uncontrolled kisses.
“Annie…Annie…Annie.” Between each kiss Lucas whispered her name. “Oh, Annie.” One hand bunched her cotton nightgown, while the other tenderly cradled the back of her head. One hand rough and urgent, the other gentle and loving.
They were on the bed before Annie even realized they’d left the bathroom, the light spilling like distant sunshine into the dark room. Lucas moved away from her and she watched as he tore off his shirt. Then he was kissing her again with an abandon that told her he’d been wanting her far longer than she’d known. Kissing her and impatiently unbuttoning her nightgown.
“Annie, I—”
“Yes, make love to me,” she whispered.
After long minutes of kissing and caressing, of loving with hands and mouths, her excitement grew more and more intense. “Now, Lucas,” she urged. He was about to enter her when he stopped cold, his face in torment.
“What is it?” she asked frantically.
“Your accident. Will I hurt you?”
Annie didn’t know. “I suspect the pain will be worse if you stop now.”
A smile relaxed his features, and he leaned forward and slowly, lovingly, joined their bodies. Annie did whimper, but the sound coming from deep in her throat had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with pleasure. It’d been so long for her. Years. That long for Lucas, too.
“Lucas, oh, Lucas.” All at once she understood how worthwhile the wait had been.
Annie slept in Lucas’s arms all night, as content as she could ever remember being. The alarm rang at the usual time, but Lucas stretched out his hand and blindly turned it off. Grateful, Annie kissed the underside of his jaw, more than happy to return to the blissful oblivion of sleep.
Her reprieve was short-lived, however. Lucas kissed her eyes, then her nose, her cheek and finally her lips. Once, and then a second time. Their kisses lengthened and became more passionate.
“I’ve got three surgeries scheduled this morning,” Lucas murmured between kisses.
Annie rubbed her hands do
wn his bare back. “There’s a shipment of books arriving before ten.”
More kisses, more whispers.
“I’m going to be late.”
“Me, too.”
All the while they listed their protests, they were straining for one another. Soon their voices dipped to sighs and soft pants, followed by eager cries and more kisses, then softer less urgent ones.
CHAPTER 18
The first thing Val did once she’d unpacked her suitcase was reach for a pad of paper and write a long newsy letter to Richard Weston. He wouldn’t receive it until next week since mail going into the prison was inspected first.
Val was more than a little attracted to him. They’d met when she’d been assigned as his defense attorney, a task she’d dreaded until she’d actually gotten to know Richard. He’d been charged with a number of crimes—smuggling illegal aliens, fraud and extortion among them. Richard was no innocent, but in Val’s opinion he wasn’t as bad as those charges suggested. The worst of his crimes—again, in her opinion—was that he’d been gullible. He claimed that he’d believed the men he’d worked with. They’d purported to be helping the illegal aliens find jobs and decent housing. Richard said he’d been unaware of what was really going on. Val wasn’t naive; she didn’t buy his whole story. Nevertheless, she liked him. Liked him far more than she should—but then, she’d always enjoyed a man with a dangerous edge. Bad boys like Richard Weston had always tempted her. Interesting that the men she’d married weren’t that type at all.
Richard had written her after he was sentenced. In the beginning she’d ignored his letters, but his persistence had captured her attention. Almost against her will, and after maybe the fifth letter, she’d started answering him. It had begun as a game, a flirtation of sorts—and then she’d taken the next step. She’d set up a visit on the pretense of legal business. For all his faults, one quality Richard certainly didn’t lack was charm. The things he said and wrote to her were enough to make her knees grow weak. She knew better, yet she still couldn’t help herself.
Her marriage, which had been on the rocks for some time, was ending, and it felt good to be flattered, desired. He had a manner she found compelling, almost irresistible. Val didn’t believe all of Richard’s compliments, but she didn’t care if he was sincere or not; she needed to hear them.
Naturally his undying devotion came with a price tag. Richard needed something from her, too. Her legal expertise.
The simple truth was that she’d fallen for Richard. During the months she’d been working on his appeal, she’d come to look forward to their brief visits.
In fact, her motives for traveling to Promise were all linked to helping Richard. He needed his family, and Val was here to make sure that his brother and sister would stand by him. She wanted to get a read on his family, figure out how much they’d be willing to help—with financial, as well as moral, support—when he came before the parole board. Richard was afraid the citizens of Promise might be tempted to take revenge on him. He seemed obsessed with Bitter End, too, although she couldn’t quite understand why. He said he couldn’t tolerate the idea of the ghost town being turned into a tourist trap, its historic value ruined. From his frequent descriptions of the place, Val had formed a mental picture of it.
Richard had spent a lot of time in Bitter End when he’d hidden out there, and he yearned to protect its integrity. It was this side of him, the one that others rarely saw, that Val had learned to treasure.
A knock on the door caught her unawares. She shoved the writing tablet beneath her pillow. “Come in,” she called.
Travis opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Dinner will be on the table in fifteen minutes.”
“Already?” Val glanced at her watch.
“I told you earlier that we eat at six.”
Unable to resist, she thrust out her tongue in a childish display of temper. Travis had certainly proved to be a disappointment. He’d barely been cordial. From the moment she’d told him she’d be visiting Promise, he’d made it clear he’d rather she stayed in New York. His aversion to her company only confirmed what she’d always believed. He’d never gotten over their divorce, and although remarried, Val suspected he’d never stopped loving her. She was sorry he’d been hurt, but better opportunities had awaited her. Now those opportunities had faded and she was on her own again. Through it all, Val had been confident that Travis would always love her. She still thought so, even though he obviously didn’t plan to act on his feelings. Maybe that was to punish her or—giving him some credit—to avoid hurting the second Mrs. Grant.
“I’ll be right in,” she said, refusing to let his lack of welcome dissuade her.
“Fine.” He turned to leave.
“Travis.” She leaped up and hurried after him. “I have some questions I was hoping you could answer.”
“About what?”
He didn’t slow his pace, and Val was forced to trot to keep up. This wouldn’t be a problem for his new wife, she told herself. The little woman wasn’t so little. Val had nearly laughed out loud at her first glimpse of his precious Nell. Six feet if she was an inch, with braids only Annie Oakley would envy.
“You don’t want me here, do you?” she said, pouting ever so slightly.
“No.” His answer was direct and brutal.
“Why not?”
He stopped walking and grabbed her by the arm. “You’re after something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Val jerked her arm out of his grasp. She’d always resented the way he could see through her. “I haven’t talked to you in ages—except when I phoned you about this trip.”
His lips curled as if her words repulsed him. “We have nothing to talk about. And I still don’t know why you came here.”
“I’m curious about Promise.”
“Why?”
She frowned. She didn’t like having her motives questioned.
“What’s come over you?” Val asked. “You never used to be like this.”
“I don’t want you here.”
“So you’ve said.” She crossed her arms and inhaled deeply, refusing to show him how much his words had wounded her. “Are you afraid, Travis?”
“Afraid of what?”
“Seeing me again, being near me. You used to love me, remember?”
“You’ve got that part right,” he said without emotion. “I used to love you. Past tense. I don’t any longer. I have a wife who knows the meaning of the word love. A wife who puts her family first, not her own self-centered desires.”
“Are you telling me I don’t know what love is?” Despite the years they’d been married, the man didn’t have a clue about her. This entire trip was on behalf of someone else, but she couldn’t very well tell Travis that. Despite the years they’d been married, he didn’t know her, didn’t appreciate her, not like Richard did.
“The only person you think about is yourself.”
She lifted her chin at his insults, her pride rescuing her. “You’ve changed. I barely know you anymore.”
“I have changed, thank God,” he agreed. “Thanks to Nell and the people in Promise.”
“I’d like to meet some of those people.”
“Such as?”
She shrugged, unwilling to show her hand. “The people you mentioned when you first came out here.”
“Such as?” he asked again.
“The Westons,” she said casually. “Dolly, too.”
“Dovie,” he corrected, studying her, his eyes hard.
“Dovie,” she repeated. “That’s such an old-fashioned name.” From what she’d seen of the hill country, the entire area could define quaint. Sheets drying on a clothesline, homemade bread, flowers in a jar. And eating dinner at six! They probably went to sleep at eight—and got up at five. Boring, boring, boring. Val suspected there wasn’t a single pizza franchise that would deliver to this dude ranch. If Nell was typical of Texas women, the entire state was populated with Amazons. Too bad they weren’t around when p
oor old Davy Crockett was defending the Alamo.
“Does your sudden interest in Promise have anything to do with Richard Weston?” Travis demanded. “Tell me you aren’t crazy enough to get mixed up with the likes of him.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, playing dumb.
“You know darn good and well what I mean. Be warned—Richard is a user, and if he’s had anything to do with your visit, you’d be wise to leave now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“As I recall, you were pretty intrigued with him three years ago. I thought that was all in the past, but…”
“He’s an interesting person.”
Travis’s frown darkened. “This is about Richard, isn’t it?”
“Indirectly,” she admitted, knowing he wouldn’t believe her otherwise. Val couldn’t afford to have Travis guess the truth—not yet, anyway. He’d become such great pals with all the people in Promise, people who hated Richard. So he wouldn’t be pleased to hear that she was preparing an appeal. “He was full of talk about Bitter End. He went on and on about that ghost town. Remember how fascinating he made it all sound? You were intrigued enough to come here yourself.” The ghost town was a good distraction. Val knew Travis couldn’t argue, seeing that Richard’s stories had prompted his own first visit to the Texas hill country.
“So?”
“So, as you know, my marriage fell apart, and well, I don’t know…. I guess in my own way, I’m looking for the kind of happiness you found. This seemed like a place to start.”
She could tell he thought she was lying. But the back door opened then, and Nell stepped outside. She paused when she saw Val and Travis.
“Hello, Nell.” Val waved, making sure her smile was wide and generous. “I understand dinner’s about ready.”
“It’s on the table now.”
“Is there something I can do to help?” she asked, hurrying toward the other woman. She was willing to do anything that would take her away from this uncomfortable conversation with Travis.
As Jeannie went to the grocery to do her weekly shopping the following Saturday, everyone in town was talking about Cal and Dr. Jane’s baby boy. She’d already heard the news from three different people, and while she’d enjoyed her conversations with Martie Caldwell, as well as Dovie and Caroline, there was one person she was waiting to hear from. But Adam hadn’t called.
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