To Protect and Cherish

by Karen Rose Smith

  “He simply didn’t exist for me. I was an accident—a one-night stand gone wrong.”

  “That’s the way your mother made you feel?”

  “Not intentionally. She loved me…in her way.”

  “How did she support you?”

  Anita glanced over at Marie, who had laid her head down on the mattress, her blanket tucked under her cheek. Then her gaze met his. “Why do you want to know?”

  On the same side of the crib now, they were only a couple feet apart. He could smell the wholesome scent that always seemed to surround Anita: vanilla. Was it a lotion or a perfume?

  “I just wondered, that’s all. Where we come from makes us who we are.”

  “I suppose that’s true. You can either give in to it or rise above it. My mother was a maid in a motel.”

  “You were embarrassed by that?”

  “No, but I always wondered why she didn’t want more…why she didn’t strive for more.”

  He took a step closer to her, and those couple of feet disappeared. “You’re striving.”

  “I hope so,” she breathed fervently.

  As he gazed down at her, everything inside of Tate seemed to vibrate. She was altogether feminine and oh-so-pretty. He hadn’t been with a woman for a long time. Donna had cured him of the impulse to jump into a relationship just to satisfy a physical desire. But he was wary of the way Anita made him feel.

  “Something’s different about you today,” he said roughly. “You’re distracted. Are you having second thoughts about this job?” If she didn’t tell him the truth, if she didn’t tell him what was bothering her, he’d be even warier of her.

  After a few moments of hesitation, she finally responded, “It’s nothing to do with the job and it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “But it’s something for you to worry about?”

  “Maybe not. My intuition’s just working overtime.”

  Turning away from him, she was heading toward the boxes again when he caught her arm. She had him curious now, and he wondered if that was her intent. “Tell me, Anita.”

  He saw the concerned look in her eyes and knew something was deeply troubling her. “I had visitors yesterday, visitors I never would have expected. Larry, my husband, told me his parents were dead. It turns out, they’re not.”

  She still seemed stunned by it and Tate urged, “Go on.”

  “Larry lied to me during our marriage, so I shouldn’t be surprised that there were more lies I didn’t know about. But this—”

  She sadly shook her head. “He’d apparently been in trouble as a teenager and his parents couldn’t straighten him out. He hurt someone in a drunk driving accident and they settled it for him. But they disowned him. They told him not to come back home until he’d turned into a responsible man.”

  Tate gave a low whistle. “Saying your parents are dead when they’re not is one big, fat lie. How did his parents find you now?”

  “A private investigator. And it troubles me that this man they hired seems to know a lot about me.”

  “If he was thorough, he could find out almost anything, especially on the Internet. What were these people like?”

  “I’m not really sure. I became defensive when they started asking personal questions.”

  “For instance?”

  “They could see I was moving. They knew I’d been a waitress. I told them I was taking a housekeeping position here. Then they asked if you had a family and if you were married.”

  “They had no right to grill you.”

  “Maybe not. But they seem to really care about their grandchildren.”

  “Where are they from?”

  “Houston. They were staying in Tyler for the night and then going home today. They said they want to visit the kids, but I think it’s more than that.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I think they feel guilty about Larry. I think they want to get real close to the kids. But I don’t know how they’re going to do that with them in Houston and me here. It was their glances at each other, the questions, the disapproval that was underlying it all that bothered me. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It just gave me chills.”

  “If they’re in Houston and you’re here, they can’t interfere that much.”

  “I suppose not.” She took a deep breath. “I have to go pick up the boys.”

  “Living out here, are you going to have to take them to school and bring them home every day?”

  “No. I’ll just take them down to the end of the lane. I already called the school and talked to them. The bus will be here tomorrow morning around seven-thirty.”

  Their gazes seemed to lock for a few seconds, awareness pulsing between them. Then she broke eye contact and crossed over to the bed. “Okay, baby. Let’s change your diaper before we motor.”

  Changing diapers was totally out of Tate’s realm of experience.

  “Do you want an early supper tonight since you’re home?” Anita asked him.

  “Why don’t we just order pizza? You don’t officially start until tomorrow. That way, if you want to finish unpacking, you can.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “I don’t mind.” He was beginning to realize that was the whole problem. He could picture them sitting around the table, sharing wedges of pizza much too easily.

  “I’ll be in the barn,” he told her, going to the door. “Don’t feel you need to tell me when you’re coming and going. After all, we’ll be living separate lives.”

  When she nodded, as if that was understood, he suddenly wondered how that could be true with them under the same roof.

  They were soon going to find out.

  Grateful for Tate’s suggestion to order pizza for supper, Anita thought he might join them. Instead, he slipped two slices onto a plate and told her he’d take them to the barn. He had work to do there.

  On his way out the back door, she asked, “Are you sure you don’t want something to go with them?”

  He simply called back, “I’ll grab something else later.” And that was that. Somehow, they had to figure out how to coexist while sharing the same house. With the sparks she felt whenever she was within two feet of Tate, avoidance was probably the best policy. However, in the past, avoidance had brought her nothing but a mess of trouble.

  She considered that as she played a board game with the boys for a bit, and then got Marie and the twins ready for bed.

  After she read them a good-night story, Corey asked, “Do you think Mr. Pardell would let us watch that big-screen TV sometime?”

  “I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to ask him. But I don’t want you running in there and playing with the remote on your own. We live on this side of the house. What do you think of your room?”

  Both boys looked around at their familiar red-and-blue bedspreads, the poster of Curt Schilling on the wall and their toys in a large, plastic wash basket.

  “It’s okay,” Jared answered. “I like having horses in the backyard.”

  Smiling, Anita hugged and kissed her boys, left the night-light burning and went to her bedroom to check on Marie. The baby was sleeping soundly, as if she didn’t notice the change in location at all. How adaptable kids were!

  She remembered her promise to phone the Suttons with her new phone number. She’d do that in the morning.

  Thinking about Larry’s parents brought back the rock in her stomach. It also brought back memories of the lies Larry had told her over the years—little white ones she hadn’t paid attention to…that she’d avoided.

  When she’d unpacked earlier, she’d stuffed a shoe box full of old credit card bills onto the top shelf of her new closet. Now she pulled down the box, taking it to the sitting room so that she wouldn’t wake Marie.

  Once on the sofa, she set it on the coffee table and opened the lid. She wasn’t as organized as she should be with bills, but after Larry died, she’d sorted them into years. She took them from the box and laid them on the coffee
table, staring at them as if they might bite her. She knew that by making only the minimum payment on her credit card bills, she was still paying for things they’d bought early in their marriage. Larry had always spent money quicker than he could make it. And the boys seemed to need shoes and clothes every couple of months because they grew so fast. Even when Larry worked steadily, they’d never had much extra income.

  After Larry’s death, she’d found a pattern in the charges. When he’d gone on a spending spree there were new clothes and haircuts. Also listed on the credit card statements were specialty items like flowers, candy and jewelry. Engrossed in her own life, run ragged some days dealing with the boys, waitressing and a new pregnancy, she’d opened the bills, paid the minimum and hadn’t looked at much else. Now she realized that if she had, she would have had to confront Larry. She would have had to admit he was having affairs. She would have had to admit she’d chosen the wrong husband.

  Had he ever really loved her? Apparently, promises had meant nothing to him….

  Tears welled up. She felt the sadness and disappointment she hadn’t let herself feel when she was married to Larry. She’d been young. He’d been older. The same year she graduated from high school, she’d lost her mother. When Larry had come into the restaurant—with his green eyes telling her he was interested, a smile that could coax one from her and compliments she’d soaked in like parched earth needing rain—she’d fallen for him. But she could see now that he’d never really wanted the responsibility of a wife and family.

  As she thought about broken dreams as well as promises, the tears came faster.

  “Anita?”

  She hadn’t even heard Tate come in. Quickly, she wiped away her tears and blinked hard but couldn’t seem to stop.

  “I’m fine,” she said in a shaky voice. “Just fine. There’s nothing wrong.”

  “The hell there isn’t,” Tate muttered as he quickly strode across the room and sat on the sofa beside her. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Really. I was just looking through old bills.”

  “Old bills make you cry? Because you owe so much money?”

  She tried another swipe at her cheeks and was more successful. Pushing her hair behind her ears and taking a deep breath, she looked down at the box rather than at him. “I was just realizing how naive I was. How blind I’d been.”

  Tate tentatively touched her arm, as if he didn’t know if he should. The feel of his fingers on her bare skin sent an elemental jolt through her. Her eyes lifted to his and she saw that he didn’t understand what she meant. “No, not because of money I owe. Because my marriage was a lie. I went into it for all the wrong reasons. And Larry…Larry went into it as if he were making a promise to change the oil in someone’s car.”

  Understanding dawned in Tate’s eyes. “I guess that means he was unfaithful.”

  “Yes, and I didn’t want to see it. I ignored it. I turned away from red flags that should have blinded me.”

  “Fast courtship?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Got pregnant right away?”

  She nodded again.

  “How old were you when you got married?”

  “I was nineteen. My mom died the year before and I was on my own, living in a room in a boarding house. When Larry came into my life, all the dreams I’d ever had suddenly seemed attainable. But I didn’t really know him when I married him. Obviously, I didn’t know him in our four years of marriage, either. I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that he told me his parents were dead and they aren’t.”

  Picking up the credit card statement in her lap, Tate scanned the date on the top and his eyes ran over the charges. “You’re still paying for gifts he bought another woman.”

  “At least there aren’t any motel rooms on there,” she said with a humorous laugh. “I guess he paid cash.”

  With a low oath, Tate put the credit card statement in the box, gathered up all the others lying on the coffee table, dumped them in, too, and then put the lid on. “You’ve got to forget about all this. It’s not going to do you any good, wishing you had done something differently.”

  She knew he was right. “I wish I could forget about it, but I guess my pride still hurts. I guess I still wonder why I wasn’t enough.”

  He moved closer to her. “Not enough? Enough of what? You’re pretty and you’re smart. You’re a good mom, too. What more could a man want?”

  That question hung precariously between them. Tate was looking at her as if he truly meant what he said. In jeans and a snap-button shirt, his beard shadow-dark, his blue eyes hot with a fiery spark that had pricked at them both since the moment they’d met, she couldn’t turn away from him. When he reached out, took her chin in his palm and ran his thumb over her cheek, her heart skipped several beats. As his lips came closer to hers, she anticipated what was going to happen next. She realized she’d wanted it and longed for it ever since she’d met Tate.

  When his mouth covered hers, nothing mattered but the sensation of it. Nothing mattered except breathing in his scent. Putting her hands on his broad shoulders and feeling the taut muscles there, the kiss turned wild immediately. Tate slid his tongue into her mouth and she held on tighter. The kiss was a roller-coaster ride, and she became breathless with the excitement of it, with the ascent of the passionate hill that promised satisfaction on the other side. The descent down that hill was tummy twirling as she kissed him back, feeling like a desirable woman again.

  A desirable woman. Was that what this was all about?

  The thought hit her hard, cutting through the passionate haze, striking her with the force of reality. When she pushed away from him, broke her lips from his, he looked a bit dazed, too.

  “This is wrong. The last thing I need is another man,” she murmured.

  At her words, Tate’s blue eyes became stone-hard, his expression tight with anger, frustration or something she couldn’t even guess.

  “That wasn’t wrong, but it was a mistake.” Standing, he announced, “It’s probably better if I stay out of your rooms. I just came in to tell you I put the security system on for the night.” He pulled a slip of paper from his jeans pocket. “There’s the code. Memorize it if you can and tear this up. I’ll show you what to do in the morning.”

  He didn’t look back as he walked out of her sitting room and shut the door.

  For a few moments, Anita couldn’t help but stare at that closed door, feeling more lost now than she had earlier. Giving herself a mental shake, she knew she couldn’t afford to feel lost. She had a life to build for her and her kids, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

  Chapter Four

  When Tate returned to his house from the barn Thursday morning, his kitchen was a foreign place. Marie sat in her high chair, banging on the tray while Jared and Corey chased each other around the table.

  “Boys, sit down now,” Anita called. “We have to hurry a little or you’ll be late for your school bus.”

  Pushing and jabbing each other, the twins stopped their game and listened to their mother, noisily pulling out chairs and plunking down on them at the table, which was filled with good things to eat—scrambled eggs and bacon, toast, cereal and hash browns.

  Anita glanced at Tate over her shoulder. “I was hoping you’d come in soon. I still have the coffeepot on. Did you have breakfast?”

  “Just a glass of juice,” he responded, almost feeling as if he’d landed in Oz.

  “If you’d prefer peace and quiet this morning, I could serve your breakfast in the great room.”

  He’d always had peace and quiet. This ruckus first thing in the morning was a little jarring, yet when Jared grinned at him…

  With fluid movements, Anita set a small dish with bits of scrambled egg on Marie’s tray, next to a cup that was rounded at the bottom and tilted when the baby reached for it.

  “The kitchen’s fine,” Tate answered. “No need to serve me somewhere else.”

  “What are you gon
na do today?” Jared asked Tate.

  Unused to conversation at breakfast, Tate pulled out a chair next to the boy and lowered himself into it. “I’ll be working today.”

  “What kind of work?” Corey piped up.

  “Well, for one thing, I’ll be meeting with an architect who designs houses. He draws the pictures, and I make them happen.”

  “Wow! Neat!” Corey mumbled with a mouthful of eggs. “Do you drive a dump truck?”

  Tate laughed. “No, one of my crew drives the dump truck. And a bulldozer. I used to, though.”

  Anita slipped into a seat across from him and encouraged her daughter to eat bites of egg, then met his gaze. The remembrance of their kiss was between them—pulsing and hot. The desire he thought he’d left in his dreams suddenly kicked him in the gut. When he’d seen Anita crying last night, he should have given her privacy and turned the other way.

  Hopping up again, Anita reached for his plate.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to serve you breakfast.”

  Reaching out, he took the plate from her. “No, you’re not. I serve myself.” The idea of her serving him didn’t feel right at all, even if she was his housekeeper.

  “All right. But I think you’d better write up a list of the things I should and shouldn’t do. Then we’ll both be clear.”

  “It’s not complicated. You cook and clean. That’s it.”

  But one look into her eyes told him it was a lot more complicated than that, and she knew it, too.

  Taking her seat again, she asked, “Do you want me to put some finishing touches on the house?”

  “Like?”

  “Curtains. Scatter rugs. Maybe a few pictures on the walls.”

  The condo he’d lived in before he’d moved here hadn’t been very homey. It had a leather couch and a TV, and he’d spent more time at his office than there.

  “Do you want to go to the furniture store and look around for what you need?” Maybe she just wanted to shop and spend his money.

  “I don’t think I’ll find the things I’m looking for at a furniture store.”

  “So you’ll need cash.”

  “I don’t have to pick up everything at once. The process is what makes it fun. It’ll give me something to do on my days off.”