“Tired?” He rested his head against hers.
“A little.” She found herself thinking about the agreement. She never had managed to make herself talk to him about it. And she did want to deal with it, to tell him that she longed for nothing more than to put it behind them and stay his wife for the rest of their lives.
Her heart beat a little faster. Maybe now would be a good time. Today. Before they went home, while they were still here in this apartment where things had been so good between them.
He took her hand, turned it over and traced a heart in the center of her palm. “Who was that?”
“Hmm?”
“Just now, on the phone?”
“Dr. McClary’s office.”
He traced the heart again.
She knew he was waiting for her to tell him what the doctor had said. Reluctantly, she admitted, “Dr. McClary wanted to see me once more before we left. But it’s all been so crazy I forgot to schedule an appointment.”
“So when are you going in?”
“I’m not. There’s no time.”
“Abby…”
“No, listen. It’s not a problem. He asked me a few questions, then said it was all right if I waited until Tuesday and saw Dr. Pruitt.”
“Questions about what?”
She explained about her blood pressure. “But it’s no big deal. He did a thousand tests on me last week and everything was fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “So you’ll see Dr. Pruitt on Tuesday?”
She raised a hand, palm out. “I do solemnly swear.”
“Okay.”
He kissed the crown of her head. In a second, he would get up, go back to the bedroom, pack another box. Her opportunity, once again, would have passed her by.
“Cash?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you, um, ever think about the agreement we made before we got married?”
His body seemed to stiffen a little next to her. But maybe that was only her overactive imagination. He didn’t pull away or take his arm from around her shoulders.
After a moment, he said, “The agreement we made?”
She had no idea how to read that. Had he forgotten about the agreement? Or was he simply stonewalling her?
She clarified. “You know, the agreement that we’d get divorced in a year unless—”
He cut her off. “I remember.” He definitely did move back then, pulling his arm from around her and putting a few inches between them on the sofa. “What about it?”
“Well, how do you feel about it? Now, I mean? We’ve been married for a while. Do you still feel the same?”
His eyes gave nothing away. “If you want to talk about the agreement, Abby, maybe you should start with how you feel.”
She stared at him, knowing he was right. And irritated at him, too. He just couldn’t make this easy on her. Oh, no. He had to make her do it all.
Abby felt too antsy to remain seated. Grunting a little, she pushed herself to her feet. She went over to the glass door that looked out on a central courtyard. It was a gray day. Shrinking patches of snow sat on the tops of the hedges and on the grass, as well.
“Abby?”
She made herself face him. “I’d like to forget it, that’s all.”
“Forget it?”
What was the matter with him? He knew what they were talking about.
She spoke with exaggerated patience. “Yes. I’d like to forget the agreement. I’d like to go on from here as if we’d never made any bargain at all. I’d like to stay married come July.”
He was sitting forward on the couch, watching her. But she couldn’t read his look. She had no idea what he might be thinking.
“Well?” she demanded after about a half a century had elapsed without him saying a single word. “I told you what I think. What about what you think?”
He stood. “Abby…”
She wrapped her arms around her huge belly and hugged herself, feeling lost and ungainly. And faintly nauseated. Her stomach ached suddenly, a dull, inflamed kind of pain. Dr. McClary had been right. All the stress had started to catch up with her. She made herself breathe deeply and told herself she would not feel angry at Cash because he was behaving just as she’d feared he would behave if she dared to broach this subject with him.
He approached her cautiously. She watched him come through wary eyes. Gently, he reached for her. She let him pull her close, her anger draining off a little in the comfort of his embrace.
“I think we should wait to decide on this.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Wait for what?”
“Until after the baby’s born and you’re more yourself.”
She pulled back and scoffed, “Oh, please. I may look like I swallowed a watermelon, but I’m still the same person I’ve always been. I’m not going to be any more me after the baby’s born.”
“I think you know what I mean. You’re eight months pregnant.”
“So? My brain still functions. I still know what I want.”
“I’d just rather wait to make any permanent decisions, that’s all. Until the baby’s born and you’re absolutely sure of how you feel.”
“I am sure. I just told you that. If there’s anyone who’s not sure here, it isn’t me.” She stepped back then, out of the circle of his arms.
“Abby, don’t get all worked up.”
The baby chose that moment to kick against her ribs. “Ow!” She grabbed her side.
“Abby…” He reached for her again.
And she let him gather her close. “I’m fine.” She leaned into his embrace. “I just got a little boot in the ribs from you know who, that’s all.” She turned so his arms encircled her from behind. Then she took his hand and put it where he could feel the movement.
He chuckled. “Whoa, there. The kid’s got a wicked punch.”
“Yeah. Tell him to stop it.”
Cash said nothing, only tenderly rubbed the spot. Abby allowed her body to relax more fully against him. Her stomachache and the feeling of nausea faded.
After rocking her lazily for a moment, Cash kissed her neck. Then he whispered in her ear. “Why don’t you sit down and put your feet up for a while? I’ll get back to packing things up.”
In spite of his tender tone, she knew what he was telling her: the conversation was over.
And nothing had changed.
Abby felt drained. She looked around at all the open packing boxes, most of them still waiting to be filled. There was so much to do. Lately, there was always so much to do.
She murmured wearily, “I should be helping.”
“Just rest for a little while. Please.”
She let him lead her back to the sofa, where he propped her up against the armrest, with two pillows at her back and her legs stretched out along the cushions. “Comfortable?” he asked.
She nodded.
He kissed her on the nose and returned to the bedroom. Abby settled back among the pillows, trying not to feel sad. And trying not to let herself think that her husband had no desire at all to make their marriage last.
Chapter Eleven
They left for home the next day, early in the morning.
To Abby, the drive seemed interminable. Her back ached a little and the baby kept moving, poking her from the inside every time she just about got comfortable. Cash was wonderful the whole way, saying nice things to her while she muttered complaints and squirmed against the pillow she’d used to cushion her lower back. He insisted they stop every hour on the hour so that she could go to the bathroom and move around a little.
She bore the stops with bad humor, though she knew they were good for her. She didn’t want to stop. She just wanted to get there. For some reason, all of a sudden, her bladder had decided to give her a break. She had to go to the rest room only once during the entire trip.
They arrived in Medicine Creek late on Saturday afternoon. Mrs. H
elm, the cook-housekeeper, had been warned of their arrival and had left homemade soup and bread for them to heat up. Abby had very little appetite. She ate a few spoonfuls of soup and then got ready for bed.
Cash called the ranch from the bedroom as soon as Abby was settled in among the pillows. After he’d talked briefly to Zach, he handed her the phone. Abby spoke with her mother, who had driven to the ranch with Tess and Jobeth the day before.
Edna sounded happy and excited at the prospect of the holiday. “Tess and Jobeth went out today to collect cedar boughs. We decorated every mantel and banister with them. They’re so festive, and they really make the place feel like Christmas. And you should see the tree. It’s beautiful, honey. Tess has done so much. She is amazing. She put up the tree yesterday, right after we got here. And you won’t believe the menu for the dinner she’s preparing Christmas Day.”
“I can’t wait,” Abby said dryly.
“The Panklevys quit.” Sandy and Bill Panklevy had hired on at the ranch not long after Edna became ill. Sandy had been filling Edna’s shoes.
“What will Zach do?”
“He’ll hire someone else, of course. And that Sandy wasn’t worth yesterday’s coffee grounds anyway. Did you see a sign of her at Thanksgiving? No, because she and Bill had to take a week’s vacation, that’s why. And she has not kept the place up, not at all. Tess has been cleaning and cleaning.”
“Tell Zach he shouldn’t take advantage of her.”
“Don’t worry. I did. Tess will be getting a nice little bonus in her Christmas stocking. And guess what? Nate arrived this afternoon.”
Abby grinned. “Cash said that he would, remember?”
“Well, Cash was right. I just can’t wait for you two to get here. Then we’ll all be together.” A silence followed, then she added softly, “Except for your father. Oh, I do wish he could be here with us.”
“Me, too.”
“But I’m finding that it’s not as bad as I thought it would be, this first Christmas without him.”
“I’m glad.”
“How are you feeling?”
Not so great, Abby thought. “Fine,” she said.
“You’ve been pushing too hard, haven’t you? I can tell by your voice. Honestly, what in the world possessed you to even attempt going to college at a time like this in your life? I don’t understand it. I will never understand it.”
“Mom. It’s finished now.”
“And you’ll stay home, where you belong.”
“I will. I promise.” At least until next fall, she added silently.
“Well,” her mother said. “Thank the Lord for small favors. And now that you’re home, I can see to it that you get your rest.”
“I’m counting on you to do just that,” Abby said with some irony.
The irony was lost on Edna. “Good. After all, we’re only a few blocks away from each other. And I’m feeling so much better lately. I can be with you whenever you need me.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Oh, well. What is a mother for?”
They spoke for a few more minutes and then Abby said she had to go.
“See you tomorrow,” Edna chirped happily, and hung up.
Abby reached over and put the phone back in its cradle on the nightstand. Then she kissed Cash and snuggled down for sleep.
She felt better in the morning, though Cash said her face looked puffy. She remembered Dr. McClary’s warning and considered calling Dr. Pruitt, even though it was Sunday—and Christmas Eve, to boot. But she put it off until after breakfast, and it seemed to her that after she got up and moved around a little, her face looked just fine.
They reached the ranch at a little before eleven. Edna came out to greet them. At the sight of Abby, she frowned. “You look terrible.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom.”
“Your face seems swollen.”
“I tried to tell her that,” Cash said from the back of the Blazer, where he was hauling out their bags. “She says she feels fine.”
“I do,” Abby said.
“You’ve pushed yourself too hard,” Edna insisted. “It’s written all over you. Have you seen Dr. Pruitt?”
“We just got in yesterday.”
“Well, you’ll see him right away, won’t you?”
“The day after tomorrow, I promise.”
Edna put her arm around Abby. “You come inside this minute and lie down.” She cast an accusatory glance at the gathering black clouds overhead. “It’s freezing out here and it’s going to snow.”
“Mom, the weather isn’t my fault.”
“I know, I know. Come on. I don’t want you out in this.”
Abby went along willingly, glad to be home and rather enjoying having her mother fuss over her.
“We’ll put you right to bed,” Edna said once they got inside.
“No way.”
“But—”
Cedar boughs decorated the long table in the front hall. Abby grinned in pleasure at the Christmasy scent of them. “I’ll lie on the sofa.”
“But I think you—”
“Mom,” Abby said sternly.
Edna let out a huff of air. “Oh, all right. Have it your way.”
“Thank you. I will.” Nate appeared in the entrance to the formal living room, which they hardly ever used. Abby held out her arms. “Nathan, you’re really here!”
He enfolded her in a big hug. “It’s good to see you, Pint-Size. All of you.” The baby chose that moment to kick. Nate jumped back and looked down at Abby’s huge stomach. “What was that?”
Cash spoke from behind her, on his way toward the central stairway with their suitcases. “The next Muhammad Ali. How’s it goin’, Cousin?”
“Can’t complain.”
Edna pulled Abby into the great room and over to a long, fat flowered sofa beneath the windows on the north wall. “This makes into a bed. Isn’t that convenient?”
“Forget it, Mom. I’ll lie there, but it stays a sofa.”
“You are so stubborn.”
“I am not going to bed in the middle of the great room.”
“All right, all right. Sit down, then. And put your feet up.” Abby lowered herself to the sofa, then Edna knelt in front of her and slid off her shoes. “We’ll just make you comfortable….”
The tall tree stood opposite the windows and the sofa. A thousand ornaments, some of them generations old, winked at Abby from the green branches. Brightly wrapped gifts were piled knee-high around the base. “Oh, Mom, you were right. The tree looks fabulous.”
“These ankles are swollen.”
“Don’t nag, Mom. Please?”
“All right, all right.” Edna was arranging Abby the way she wanted her, with her feet along the cushions, her legs covered with an afghan and her back against a nest of pillows, when Tess came in through the central hall from the kitchen and breakfast room.
“Abby, how are you?”
Abby looked up into Tess’s beautiful dark eyes. “Just fine. But Mom won’t stop fussing over me.”
“Isn’t that what moms are for?”
“Oh, I suppose so.” Abby looked at her mother, so busy tucking in the afghan and plumping pillows, fixing everything just so. When she glanced up, she saw that Tess was watching Edna, too. In Tess’s face, Abby saw humor and affection. Perhaps even love.
Tess looked up, and into Abby’s eyes once more. Abby had the strangest feeling right then. A sisterly sort of feeling.
Tess grinned at her, a conspiratorial grin.
Abby couldn’t help it. Even if the woman was perfect and possibly in love with Cash, Abby liked her. A lot.
“How about a cup of tea?” Tess suggested.
“You twisted my arm.”
“Is it decaffeinated?” Edna asked anxiously. “She doesn’t need any caffeine. Just look at her.”
“Decaffeinated tea,” Tess said. “Coming right up.” She turned back toward the hall just as Cash came down the stairs. “Cash,” she said. “It’s good to see yo
u.”
Cash gave her a hug, then stepped back. “Merry Christmas.”
“Yes, Merry Christmas.”
“Where’s Jobeth?”
“Where do you think? Out with Zach, probably pulling a calf out of a ditch or something equally exciting.”
Cash laughed. “A born rancher, that kid.”
“I do believe so.”
Abby watched this innocuous exchange with eagle eyes—and couldn’t drum up a shred of suspicion. Tess and Cash smiled at each other like old friends and nothing more. Cash turned for the front door to go and bring in the Christmas presents, while Tess continued on toward the kitchen.
Not too much later, Zach and Jobeth appeared, half-frozen and splattered with mud.
“We pulled a bull out of a ditch,” Jobeth announced proudly.
Tess, who’d just come in with Abby’s tea, couldn’t resist a knowing laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, nothing…”
“That bull didn’t seem too grateful,” Jobeth added. “He tried to kick Zach.”
“He was just being a bull,” Zach said.
“You. Bath. Now,” Tess said to her daughter.
Jobeth scrunched up her nose, but headed for the stairs.
“I suppose you expect me to clean up, too,” Zach said.
Tess looked him up and down. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” Zach said. He turned and followed Jobeth up the stairs.
Abby watched Zach go, remembering how Cash had brushed aside her suggestion that Zach and Tess might get together. Cash was just too cynical; Tess and Zach would make a perfect couple.
Outside, it had started to snow. Abby watched the flakes whirl and dance beyond the window, coming down harder as each moment passed. “It looks like a mean one out there.”
“But we’re in here, all safe and warm,” Edna said contentedly from over by the old stereo, where she was thumbing through the records. “Ah. Bing Crosby. ‘White Christmas.’ Just what I was looking for.” She put the record on the turntable and Christmas music filled the air.
The Nine-Month Marriage Page 14
