“Damn it, Ellie, that’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair, Lucas.” She knew that better than anyone. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to because it’s for the best.”
“Giving up your son is for the best? How?” he demanded. “That evening on the way to Mrs. Mulrooney’s you said you were genetically predisposed to fail at motherhood. Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out what would make you feel that way. I’ve watched you this week with the animals and you have such a bond with them. I’ve watched you interact with your customers those days I arrived early at the coffee shop to pick you up. They love you. And the compassion and tenderness you show the older folks here in town isn’t something forced. It’s very real.”
“It’s not the same,” she said, hating the burn of unshed tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks with his kind words.
“How do you figure?”
“Because I can’t ruin their lives.”
He seemed surprised by her reply. Almost speechless as he sat back in his chair, studying her. The silence that fell between them seemed to stretch on forever before he asked, “Have you given up a child before?”
She gasped at his assumption. “What I’ve done or haven’t done in my past is none of your business.”
“If it affects my unborn nephew than I’d say it is my business.” He dragged a hand down over his face, muttering, “I can’t believe my brother allowed himself to get tangled up with a woman like you.”
A woman like her. Those words hurt. He didn’t know anything about her. She turned away, clutching at the sink for support. How was it that Lucas Tanner could break through her barriers so easily? When she had spent her entire life learning how to bury her emotions, how to pretend indifference to other people’s unfair judgment of her.
“No, to answer your question,” she said almost woodenly. “I’ve never been pregnant before. And I never intended to get pregnant – ever. This baby was-”
“Don’t say it,” he warned behind her. “I won’t have you refer to my nephew as a mistake.”
She lifted her head, taking in the glistening snow outside. “I was going to say unexpected.”
The tension in the room grew, becoming almost suffocating. Ellie stiffened at the sound of a chair scraping across the kitchen floor. Was he leaving?
His booted feet crossed the room and her breath caught as he moved to stand next to her, taking in the same wintry scene she was trying so hard to focus on. Nearly impossible with him standing so close.
“You might not have planned on having a baby right now, but life doesn’t always stick with the game plan. That doesn’t mean you won’t make a good mother.” The edge of anger in his voice had lessened considerably.
Ellie wrapped her arms around herself, remembering. “I don’t have it in me.”
“You were willing to give it a try with my brother.”
“Then he died and reality set in.” Something Jarrett’s undying support had managed to keep at bay for a short while.
“What reality?”
“That there are no real happily-ever-afters. I know that firsthand. My parents married because of me, but my father couldn’t bring himself to love the family he was forced into committing to. He walked out on us.” But it wasn’t her father’s betrayal she remembered most. It was her mother’s. “A few years later, my mother left me in the care of my grandmother and went off to find her own happiness. Happiness I couldn’t bring her.”
A hand caught her shoulder, gently turning her.
She looked up at Lucas through tear-blurred eyes, unable to stop the words from pouring out. “She passed me off to my aunt who decided she’d rather hang out at the bars with a different man every night than raise me. Eventually, she turned me over to the state where I was sent from foster home to foster home – never belonging anywhere.” Never loved.
“Ellie,” he breathed, his hand coming to rest lightly on her cheek. The anger had left his eyes. In its place…
She pushed his hand away, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t want your pity, Lucas. I just need you to understand. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. My family is incapable of any real or lasting love. My son deserves more than I can ever give him.” That said she ran out.
Lucas watched her go, too stunned by her painful revelation to react. What she must have gone through growing up, passed around like that, never feeling safe and secure – loved.
Suddenly, so many things made sense. Her fear of committing to Jarrett. Her need to do things without anyone’s help. Her fear of becoming a mother, of raising a child when she had no real knowledge of where to even begin. Ellie was convinced she would follow in her dysfunctional family’s footsteps. A fear so deeply ingrained in her that she would choose to give her child up to guarantee the past didn’t repeat itself.
Not that he believed it ever would. Not through her. Ellie didn’t give herself enough credit. And now that he understood what was driving her emotionally, he had every intention of convincing her that she wasn’t anything like her family. That she could give her son the life he deserved. The love he deserved. A child who, without a doubt in Lucas’s mind, would love his mother back in return.
The sound of a car engine roaring to life stopped him dead in his tracks. Muttering a curse, Lucas broke into a run through the house and out the front door, but he was too late. Ellie’s car was halfway down the lane.
The last thing he’d meant to do was send her running from the house. They’d needed to talk, but he’d never dreamt it would dredge up such painful memories for Ellie. Or stir up so many emotions in him.
Until the news of Jarrett’s death had sent him reeling, Lucas was certain he would never feel again. And that response was to be expected. Jarrett was his brother. How could it not affect him? But wanting to go after Ellie, wanting to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be all right, wanting to kiss away her pain, shook him to the core.
While the urge to comfort Ellie was only human, wanting to kiss her was wrong. Very wrong. A betrayal, if only in thought, to his brother who had loved her.
*
Blaine frowned as he drove to the second call in just over a week from Myra Winters. He’d rather be going anywhere but there. In fact, he’d done his best to avoid Victoria now that she was back. He’d succeeded in doing so physically, but emotionally she was always there, tormenting his thoughts with the memory of her warm smile and soft laughter. Only it was no longer the Victoria of his past taunting him, but the beautiful, all grown up version she had grown into.
He forced his thoughts back to the call he was going on, wondering what he would find this time. Chickens in the house? A tractor in the back pond? The same pond they’d spent hours swimming in that summer. Hidden beyond the trees, a good distance from her aunt and uncles’ house, the secluded spot had become theirs and theirs alone that summer.
And she’d been pregnant.
He’d kept a tight rein on his desire that summer, even knowing by her own admission he wouldn’t be her first. He wanted Victoria to know that his intentions were honorable. That he wanted more where she was concerned. He had wanted forever.
Blaine snorted at the foolishness of his youthful expectations. He should have given in to what they both wanted. But then who was to say Victoria wouldn’t have tried to pin her son on him. She’d already gone so far as to name her boy after him instead of the man who had actually fathered him.
He thought back to that day at his office when she had come to ‘confess her sins’ so to speak. Despite what she’d said about marrying J.B.’s biological father for her son’s sake and nothing more, she had remained with the man for nearly ten years. That was a long time to stay with a man she supposedly had no feelings for.
Blaine’s gut tightened when he thought about the man she had wed in his place. One who’d gotten to share her life. Her bed. A man who’d given her the child Blaine had someday hoped to give her.
; He was so caught up in his thoughts he nearly drove right past the Winters’ place. Stepping on the brakes, he made a sharp turn up the gravel drive. His gaze shifted as he took in his surroundings. The fence he’d repaired was still intact, so whatever the emergency was this time around it didn’t include runaway cows.
Myra hadn’t been very explanatory when she’d called his office, simply said she needed his help again. When he questioned her further, she’d gotten flustered and told him to disregard her call. She apologized for taking up his time when he had more important matters to contend with and that she would figure something out. He found himself assuring her it wouldn’t be a bother, that he had nothing pressing going on that morning. A response he wanted to kick himself in the seat of his pants for the second he’d hung up the phone. But as it was now, he had committed to seeing the call through.
He pulled up to the house, cut the engine and stepped from the car. No one came out to greet him, so he made his way up onto the front porch and knocked on the door.
No answer.
He knocked again, harder.
Nothing.
He had just stepped over to look in through the window when Myra called out to him from the distant barn.
“Sheriff Cooke!”
Turning, he made his way down the rickety old porch steps, hurrying toward the older woman. He noted the blanket draped over her arm.
“I’m so glad you came,” she said a bit breathless. “I tried to lift the ladder, but it was too heavy. And I couldn’t toss this blanket up high enough to reach her.”
Her. He didn’t have to ask who the ‘her’ was Myra was referring to. He already knew – Victoria.
“Calm down,” he said, trying to make sense of her words. “Where is your niece?”
“Victoria’s stuck in the barn and it’s so cold in there,” she said worriedly.
How did one get stuck in a barn? Then he recalled her mentioning something about picking up a ladder and not being able to toss the blanket up high enough and his frown from earlier returned. “She’s in the loft?”
The older woman nodded emphatically, her frown matching his own. “I thought she was sleeping late, so imagine my surprise when I came out to the barn and found her up there.”
The Victoria he knew wouldn’t have gone anywhere near the loft. She was afraid of heights. Or was she? It wouldn’t be the first time he learned she had misled him with the facts.
Shaking his head, he started for the barn. What sort of game was she playing now? Did she care at all about the stress her constant little ‘mishaps’ was putting her aunt under?
“Sheriff…”
He stopped and turned as Myra scurried up beside him.
“Now that Victoria’s in capable hands, I need to go see to her son.” She handed him the blanket. “She’ll be needing this.”
He watched her go, fighting the urge to call her back. The last thing he wanted to do was face Victoria and all the emotions she had stirred up in him again – good and bad. But Myra had her hands full between her ailing husband and the troublesome pair now living there.
Blaine let himself into the barn, his gaze going immediately to the heavy wooden ladder lying atop the straw-littered floor. As he moved to inspect it, the toe of his boot sent a rusted old bolt skittering across the wood planks at his feet.
“Blaine?” Her soft gasp drew his gaze upward to find Victoria peering down at him, bits of straw clinging to her hair, her cheeks tinged pink. With another gasp, she disappeared from sight.
He crossed his arms and stood staring up at the loft. “What are you up to now, Victoria?”
“Please go away,” she called down from the darkened shadows of her perch.
“Can’t,” he replied. “I’m here on official duty. Your aunt called for my assistance.”
His gaze slid over the gaping holes in the barn beam where the ladder had previously been secured. The fact that there was no splintered wood around the edges told him the ladder hadn’t been kicked away on purpose. He glanced down, noting the remaining bolt that dangled from one of the two holes along the top rung. No rust to indicate the bolt had weakened, causing it to break away. So how had it fallen?
It was then he saw it, sticking out from a pile of loose hay under the loft - a large wrench. Anger sluiced through him. Victoria had stranded herself up there on purpose. Of all the foolish things to do!
“I should leave you up there,” he snarled.
“Please do,” she replied.
He was tempted. Real tempted. But that would leave Myra to try and help her down again. What if her aunt was injured in the process?
Muttering a curse, he tossed the blanket aside and bent to grab onto the heavy ladder, lifting it slowly. He set it back in place and then walked over to pick up the bolt he’d kicked away. Then picking up the wrench, he made his way carefully up the ladder until he reached the top.
Victoria sat against the back wall, knees drawn up, arms wrapped snuggly around them, shivering. Shivering because she was wearing nothing heavier than a silken robe and the barn wasn’t heated.
His belief that she had done this on purpose changed the second he saw her face. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. “Victoria…” he said, concern replacing his ire.
“I told you to go away,” she said with a sob, her head dropping down onto her bent knees.
Setting the wrench and bolts down on the floor of the loft, he eased off the ladder, careful not to send it crashing back down to the barn floor, and moved to gather her in his arms. Her skin was like ice beneath the thin robe she wore.
“What are you doing up here?” he asked as he attempted to rub some warmth back into her arms.
Her only response was a series of shivers.
Why hadn’t he thought to grab the blanket before coming up to fetch her? Myra had warned him she’d be cold. He gathered her closer and pressed his face to her hair, breathing in the scent of her.
She snuggled closer, burying her arms under his coat, around his waist. The movement so natural. So right.
“If you wanted to see me again, you didn’t have to go to such extremes,” he mumbled as his lips brushed over the mussed copper strands.
Her head snapped up. “Wh…what?”
“Unbolting the ladder,” he said as his hand moved to wipe a tear from her icy cheek. “What if your aunt hadn’t found you? You might have frozen to death up here.” He wanted her gone not dead.
“Y…you think I did this?” she chattered as she pushed away.
Yes, he did. His gaze dropped to her long legs where a pair of fur-trimmed snow boots had been carelessly pulled on, not even laced up as they should have been. What had she been thinking? She could’ve slipped just climbing up the ladder with her boot untied the way they were.
Blaine’s frown deepened as his gaze lifted. “If you didn’t do this then who did? Your aunt?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his voice. “Am I supposed to believe she unscrewed the bolts bracing the ladder to the loft and then yanked it to the floor, leaving you stranded up here? Because she’s the only other person who knows you’re up here.”
“Not the only one,” Victoria admitted, turning away.
Her uncle wouldn’t have had the strength to even lift the wrench much less undo the bolts. That left only one other possibility…
“J.B.,” he gasped, his tone condemning. That would explain Myra’s rush to get back to the house to check on the boy. And it would also explain the heartbreak he’d seen in Victoria’s eyes. “Just wait until I get my hands on that little-”
Her head whipped back around, her expression almost fearful. “Don’t you dare touch my son! It’s not his fault.”
As if he really intended to do physical harm to her son. “Then whose is it?”
“Mine.” She clamored to her feet, clutching at her robe with trembling hands. “I ruined his life. I deserve his anger.”
Her reply stunned him. Pulling off his coat, he closed the distance between them and wrapp
ed it around her shivering shoulders. “Cutting the pasture fence was one thing, but unbolting the loft ladder isn’t something that can just be brushed aside. What if it had given way while you were climbing up it? You could’ve broken your neck.”
“I know,” she sobbed as she clung to his coat and the warmth it provided.
He pulled her to him, plucking the straw bits from her hair as he held her. “How did he get you up here in the first place? I thought you hated heights.”
“J.B. and I had an argument about the divorce this morning,” she sobbed. “He ran out. I’d never seen him so upset. When he didn’t come back, I threw on my boots and went looking for him.”
“Out in the cold dressed like that?”
“My state of dress was the furthest thing from my mind. All that mattered to me at that moment was finding my son. I followed him to the barn, but when I went inside and called out to him he didn’t answer. Then I saw the donut he’d been eating when he ran out lying on the barn floor at the foot of the ladder.”
“So you went up to the loft to look for him?” he said, more of a statement than a question. “That ladder had to be barely attached to the support.”
“It was a little loose, but I figured it was old and all I could think about was finding J.B.”
Blaine muttered a low curse.
“I took my time going up it,” she said as if that made it any better. Her gaze shifted to the edge of the loft where it dropped off into the barn below and she shuddered. “A second or two after I reached the loft, I heard a loud banging and then a heavy thud.”
“J.B. dislodged the ladder,” he finished for her. Which wouldn’t have taken much effort seeing as how the bolts had already been loosened for that very purpose.
“Yes.”
Releasing her, he walked over and picked up the wrench and the discarded bolts and set to work reattaching the ladder to the loft beam. “I’ll come back by this week sometime and secure this better with some mounting brackets.”
He worked fast, needing to get Victoria out of the cold. Twenty minutes later, they were greeted by the warmth of the old ranch house.
“I’m sorry you had to come out here for this,” she said as she removed his coat and held it out to him.
LOVING ELLIE Page 10
