One Mother Wanted

by Jeanne Allan

  Once Allie would have gone to him, thrown her arms around him, shared his overwhelming relief. Once was long ago. Then she and Zane had shared their thoughts, their joys, their sorrows. Their lives. Their futures. Now they shared only a bed.

  The sun rolled over the western horizon sending orange streaks high into the sky where they pierced charcoal-colored clouds. The air felt heavy and oppressive. In the pasture, the horses nervously faced into the wind.

  Near her foot a patch of dandelions had gone to seed. Allie ground a puffball under her foot and went into the house.

  A bolt of lightning flashed to the northwest, followed by the dull mutter of thunder. Standing at the open bedroom window, Allie smelled ozone in the air.

  “We might get some more rain.”

  Her back to the door, she hadn’t heard Zane enter the room. “Yes.” Allie felt the awkwardness of their marriage more tonight than at any time since their hasty wedding. Her earlier reluctance to intrude on Zane’s private moment at the corral emphasized the chasm between them. She would have hugged a friend. Or even a stranger.

  She should have been able to rejoice with Zane. His good news was hers. Proof that Hannah was his biological daughter gave Allie her ticket to freedom.

  Their ill-conceived marriage was over. Zane could be consigned to her past where he belonged. All ties, all strings, all connection between them, severed.

  Whatever had been between them was finally dead.

  Zane moved to stand beside her. “I thought I’d explode at dinner not talking about it.”

  “I know.” He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Hannah, laughing too loud at her childish silliness. When she’d accidentally spilled her milk, he’d kissed her nose and told her he loved her.

  “I put off telling Hannah, and there’s no point saying anything now,” he said. “It’s not something a four-year-old could understand. Maybe when she gets older, I don’t know. I’d have to tell her about Kim, and I’d rather not say negative things about her mother. Then again, she could hear something from somebody else. Maybe I should say something.”

  “You don’t have to decide now.” Allie’s hands felt heavy. She couldn’t lift them from the windowsill.

  “Doyle phoned. He said he and Kim had an affair for several months while he was in Aspen filming a ski movie. That was before his TV success, and he only had a minor role and couldn’t afford to bring his family. He’d used protection when he slept with Kim but assumed it had failed. He never knew Kim slept with me before we married, so he was positive Hannah was his because of the timing.”

  “I suspect Kim didn’t know who Hannah’s father was,” Allie said hesitantly. “If she slept with you while sleeping with Sean... So she wasn’t really lying.”

  Zane grunted. “When Doyle refused to leave his wife to marry Kim and broke off the affair, Kim latched onto me to support her. Poor Kim. Trying to steal what she wanted, she ended up with nothing, but she gave me Hannah.”

  Allie would never give him a child.

  “Doyle will never be the man he could be if he sidesteps all his obligations. I feel sorry for him. He really does miss his family.”

  After excruciating days of imagining the worst, Zane would identify with the man’s pain. Allie’s sympathy lay elsewhere. “I feel sorry for his boys. If their parents are fighting for custody, the children will be the ones to suffer the most. At least Mom and Beau never put us through that.”

  Zane lightly touched her shoulder, then dropped his hand. “Thanks to you, Hannah won’t have to suffer.”

  “The truth would have come out sooner or later.”

  “You were so sure.”

  Allie would never admit how scared she’d been that she might be wrong. “Anyone looking at Hannah can see the Peters in her.”

  “I called my parents tonight to tell them the test results. My mother had thought on it all week, and she vaguely recalls hearing her grandfather’s mother had red curly hair. The only picture I’ve seen of the woman was in black and white.”

  Being proven right didn’t bring the satisfaction it should have. A vague depression hovered below the surface of Allie’s consciousness. She probed it, as one probed for the source of an aching tooth.

  She felt happy for Zane and Hannah. She shared Zane’s joy.

  Except she didn’t. She shared nothing.

  Zane hadn’t shared his joy.

  He hadn’t shared his vulnerability.

  He’d turned his back to Allie, shutting her out.

  A bolt of lightning streaked through the sky. Out of habit, Allie counted the seconds before a loud clap of thunder sounded. The storm had moved closer. Feeling chilled, she wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her arms with her hands.

  Lightning flashed again, the bright jagged lines etching themselves on her eyeballs as she faced what she’d been trying to ignore since Zane read the DNA report. Zane didn’t need her. Not when he had Hannah.

  Sleep wouldn’t come. Zane folded an arm over his eyes. As if blocking his sight prevented him from seeing what a fool he’d been. He’d made a mess of everything. No wonder Allie had walked away when he’d lost control at the corral.

  He used to pride himself on being fearless and brave. That pride lay discarded in the dust. From the moment Kim first told him he wasn’t Hannah’s father, he’d lived with the gut-wrenching fear he’d lose his daughter.

  He’d taken his fear out on Allie. Accused her of betraying him. Of plotting against him. He had even tried to convince himself he’d stopped loving Allie. That he hated her.

  Yet on some level, he’d known he hadn’t stopped loving her. Nothing else explained the way he needed her. The way he ached to make love to her. With his last breath he’d love her.

  He lacked the guts to tell her so. How could he after betraying her five years ago? After doubting her last week. After the accusations he’d flung at her. Love meant trust, loyalty, commitment. Not angry words, doubt and betrayal.

  They hadn’t spoken since coming to bed. Zane hadn’t known what to say. Hadn’t known how to apologize. Searching for the right words, he’d said nothing, and the silence between them had deepened and thickened until it became an impenetrable barrier. Allie would have fallen asleep hours ago.

  She’d have nothing but contempt if he offered her his worthless love.

  Zane couldn’t bear losing her a second time.

  His fists tightened. A man couldn’t lose what he didn’t have.

  “You shouldn’t have any more trouble with the Taylors over custody. Even they have to realize no judge would grant them custody after what they tried to pull,” Allie said quietly.

  “I thought you were asleep.”

  “No.” A heartbeat later, she said, “I’ll leave in the morning.”

  He couldn’t let her go and scrambled for a compelling reason to persuade her to stay. “Custody is probably no longer an issue, but Edie is right about Hannah needing a mother.” Taking a deep breath, Zane risked it all. “We agreed to give our marriage a month’s trial run to see if we could manage a workable relationship.”

  “That was before you told me to pack up and leave and said it was too late to try to make our marriage work.”

  “I was wrong and I apologize.”

  She said nothing.

  “I was scared, okay?” he asked belligerently. “I’d come up against something I didn’t know how to fight, and in my fear, I struck out at you. It’s not an excuse. It’s a reason and a rotten one, but it’s the truth. Damn it, I’m sorry.” As an apology, it stunk. No wonder Allie didn’t rush to accept it.

  After a bit she asked, “You want me to stay for Hannah’s sake? Or because you feel guilty about accusing me of horrible things? Or out of gratitude?”

  “For Hannah’s sake.” That answer would do for now. He didn’t dare tell her he wanted her in his bed, at his dinner table, riding his horses, sharing his life. He’d thrown away the right to say any of that.

  “The sex is good,” s
he said unexpectedly. “Isn’t it?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  ALLIE’S comment surprised a choke of laughter from Zane. “Very good.” His amusement vanished. He hadn’t made love to her tonight. Remorse had held him back. He’d wanted to love her. Wanted her arms holding him. Wanted himself buried in her. To thank her. To apologize. To make himself whole.

  He needed her.

  “Once we thought we loved each other. Wait,” she said at the sound of protest he made. “Let me finish. We were in love, but that wasn’t enough to keep our relationship from disintegrating.”

  “What happened had nothing to do with our loving each other,” Zane said quickly, turning toward her. “It had to do with how stupid I was.” He watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took.

  “The point is, all that can’t-live-without-you-heartpounding turned out to be insubstantial fluff. It would never have supported a marriage...it didn’t even support an engagement.”

  “We’re different people now. Older, and hopefully wiser.” He tried to memorize her face in the dim light. When she left, this would be all he had of her. Memories of her in his bed. He should have made love to her tonight.

  She gave a small, rueful laugh. “We were certainly young and unwise. We actually believed in happily ever after.”

  Her cynicism dismayed him, but now wasn’t the time to try to argue her out of it. “We have a lot in common, families, backgrounds. We both grew up on ranches. In spite of what happened, I think we have the same values. We used to like and respect each other. If we work at it, I believe we can, not forget the past, but put it in the past. I think we can work together on a common goal.”

  “Raising Hannah?”

  “Marriage. A real marriage. You committed to a month. Would it be so bad to stay at least that long and try?”

  “I’m not sure our getting married was the best thing for Hannah. She’s already lost her mother. What happens when I leave?”

  Not if. When. He steeled himself with the knowledge that he had the rest of the month to change “when” into never. If he could convince her to stay that long. “You could still see each other. Even if you and I can’t work things out, we ought to be able to part amicably. Hannah could visit you in Aspen or at the Double Nickel.”

  “Do you honestly think it’s possible for us to have a friendly, platonic relationship?”

  Her troubled voice told him she was considering it. He wouldn’t allow himself to hope. Not yet. One could never assume with Allie. “No.”

  She swallowed, her throat muscles working hard. “That’s honest, anyway. You’re right, of course.” She swallowed again. “With our past, there’s no way we could be friends.”

  The workings of her throat muscles fascinated him. Allie sounded almost disappointed. Raising himself up on an elbow, he said, “I don’t know if we can be friends.” Zane lightly touched the base of her throat. “But I know we sure as hell can’t have a platonic relationship.”

  His body tightened at her racing pulse. Only Allie could turn him on with something as ordinary as blood pumping through her veins. Briefly he touched the sexy, pulsing spot with his lips, then lifting his head, he slowly smiled into her eyes. “As you said, the sex is very good.”

  Her mouth was moist and tasted minty from toothpaste. He told himself to slow down. He couldn’t slow down. She wouldn’t let him. He lifted his head, to breathe. To look at her.

  “I said good. I didn’t say very good,” she murmured.

  Zane laughed, breathing in her unique scent, which brought to mind summer wildflowers and exotic spices and tousled sheets. “I suppose—” he undid the top button of her pajama top “—that’s a challenge to me—” he moved to the second button “—to change good—” he worked loose the next button “—into very good.” He unbuttoned the last button.

  “I suppose—” her breath caught as he slowly slid the cool, slick fabric over her breasts “—you could look at it that way.”

  Zane curved his thumbs around the tips of her breasts, unbelievably aroused by their instant hardening. Giving in to a compelling need to stroke smooth, silky skin, he said, “I believe in rising to a challenge.”

  Warm hands slid beneath the waistband of his undershorts. Shifting beneath him, Allie laughed softly. “I noticed.”

  Zane kissed the laughter from her willing mouth as mingled triumph and desire surged through him. Allie Lassiter in his bed for the touching. The kissing. The loving. Her bare body warming him. Her long legs tangled with his. The two of them joining in the most basic, intimate way. Everything he’d ever wanted.

  With one exception.

  She no longer loved him. If she ever had.

  He didn’t know if he could live with an Allie who didn’t love him.

  The hell of it was, he knew for damned sure he couldn’t live without her.

  She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to stay until the month was up.

  Hannah didn’t need her. Neither did Zane. Why had he asked her to stay? Delicious memories sent pleasurable aftershocks to her midsection. Maybe he wanted a woman in his bed. Any woman.

  Allie immediately discarded that explanation. A man like Zane could have his pick of women.

  Kim Taylor had been a fool. With a husband, a lover like Zane, why in the world had Kim taken other lovers Granted, Kim and Zane’s relationship had not been based on mutual love, but then neither was Allie and Zane’s. Allie smiled. She certainly had no complaints.

  “Why the silly grin?”

  Allie looked across the car at Cheyenne. “Why not? It’s a beautiful September day. The sky is blue, the aspen are turning gold, sunflowers and wild asters are blooming everywhere.”

  “And Zane has received back the DNA results and knows the truth.”

  “That, too.”

  Cheyenne glanced into the back seat of Allie’s car when Davy and Hannah played with Davy’s toy cars before asking, “Did you make him grovel for accusing you of plotting against him?”

  “He apologized. He was upset.”

  “You mean he gave a bunch of stupid excuses for acting like a jerk.”

  “He did feel bad,” Allie said.

  “If you’re defending him, I guess there’s hope.”

  Allie turned onto a rutted ranch road and stopped. “You can get the gate.”

  Cheyenne hopped out.

  The gate had come at an opportune time. Allie had no intention of discussing her marriage with her older sister Thomas thought the moon rose and set on Cheyenne. Once Zane had looked that way at Allie. She drove slowly through the opened gate, and waited for Cheyenne.

  Back in Allie’s vehicle, Cheyenne looked in the back sea again and said quietly, “I don’t think Thomas will ever quite regretting the estrangement with his brother. Or quit blaming himself. David’s death took away any option of Thomas and David reconciling. It’s the saddest thing in the world. Thomas will never have another brother.”

  Allie heaved a loud sigh. “Okay, Cheyenne. What’s the message? Spit it out.”

  Cheyenne grimaced. “Thomas says I’m about as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

  Envy clawed at Allie. Her sister said her husband’s name in such a loving voice. Thomas didn’t love Cheyenne because she was perfect. He loved her because she was Cheyenne. What would it be like to love and be loved like that? Allie shoved aside her envy. “Sledgehammers are much subtler. What is it you’re trying to tell me?”

  “We can’t throw away the important things in life because of stupid things like pride.” Cheyenne hesitated. “Or revenge.”

  Allie brought the car to a stop. The mares in the pasture stared at the vehicle while their foals stood at their mothers’ sides, curiosity writ on their long faces. “Here we are,” Allie said. “Davy, if we walk toward them slowly, the foals will probably come right up to us.” Like Worth, Zane started working with his foals at birth, and they’d have no fear of humans. The mares, trusting, but alert for trouble, watched the humans. A tiny bay colt p
ranced toward them.

  “He’s adorable,” Cheyenne said.

  “That’s Mosquito. Daddy said he’s everywhere. His mama is Imogene. Hi, Imogene,” Hannah called to the large standard bay. The mare placidly moved in their direction.

  Davy ducked behind Cheyenne. “She’s big.”

  Reaching them, the mare nickered gently. Allie rubbed the bay mare’s neck. “Go ahead and rub Mosquito’s neck the way I’m rubbing his mama’s.”

  Cheyenne showed Davy how, then she worked with the colt’s head. “Zane’s done a good job. This little fellow doesn’t mind being touched anywhere.”

  “Here comes Tar-something.” Hannah wrinkled her face. “I can’t remember. Daddy said it’s a bird.”

  “Ptarmigan,” Allie guessed.

  Busy petting the small filly, Hannah didn’t answer.

  “Does she know all their names?” Cheyenne asked quietly.

  “Zane takes her with him whenever he can.” Allie flashed back to Zane saying he’d been in the delivery room. She visualized him holding Hannah seconds after her birth, talking to her, patting her, bonding with her.

  “Hard to remember he’s the same man who believed in partying hard,” Cheyenne said. “When he did some rodeoing in college, I thought he’d take it up, but then Buck and Dolly moved to Texas, and Zane took over this place. Settled him down.”

  Allie shook her head. “Hannah settled him down. He knows if he shirks his responsibilities, she could suffer.

  “Making him more than he was, instead of less. Maybe you ought to think about that.”

  Allie had thought about it. A lot. Zane had matured, grown into his potential, become a man a person could rely on. She wondered now if Zane had been as reckless as she feared five years ago, or if her own fears and insecurities, brought about by having Beau as a father, had led her to imagine weakness where none existed. No doubt the truth lay somewhere in between.