And that was all. She opened the doors and went through, leaving him behind.
Chapter Thirteen
Everything was the same.
And yet it was all completely changed.
Pres went to bed alone. And in the morning before dawn, when he got up to go out to the stables, he left an empty room behind. He slipped the baby monitor inside her door, just like she’d asked him to.
Temptation was a real bitch. He couldn’t stop himself. He opened the door wider than he needed to. And for a minute—or maybe three—he stood there, staring into her darkened bedroom, breathing the air she breathed, staring at the shape of her across the room, under the covers, dimly seen through the gloom.
Then, very quietly, he pulled that door closed.
At nine, they went to Mass. And then into town for lunch at the diner. Belle was gracious and gentle as always. She smiled at him more than once. But it wasn’t the same kind of smile she would have given him the day before.
It wasn’t an intimate smile.
At home, Charlotte set to work making her family recipe for chicken with wine. She said, “Silas can help me and we can take care of Ben. Why don’t you two go outside? Perhaps a horseback ride? Belle loves to ride.”
He waited for Belle to speak up and say how she didn’t feel like a ride right now, how she didn’t want to go outside—especially not with him.
But then she only gave him one of those new cordial-but-not-intimate smiles. “Would you mind, Preston? I would love to go riding.”
He kind of wondered what she was up to, but what could he say? “Sure. Weather’s clear for once. We can ride.”
“Thank you. I’ll just tell Marcus where I’m going so he won’t worry....”
The bodyguard came along, although he rode behind them, far enough back that it was easy to pretend he wasn’t even there.
Belle wore tan riding breeches and English riding boots. But she took right to the Western saddle. And she had a fine, easy seat on a horse. They took some trails he knew where the snow tended to pile up off the riding path. It was pretty easy going, a lot of it under the tall, sheltering branches of the evergreens.
She didn’t talk much. But then, neither did he. Mostly, he was wondering if maybe she was rethinking sleeping separate from him. If maybe she was deciding that she wouldn’t mind enjoying the rest of the time they could have together, kind of going back to their old understanding of how it would be.
He told himself how that wouldn’t be a good idea, how if she did have some notion that they could be temporary lovers after all, he would just tell her he didn’t see how that could work. That it was just asking for a big old heap of trouble. That she had been right to go to her room alone last night.
But who did he think he was kidding?
All she had to do was crook her little finger. He’d have her buck naked with those fine, slim legs in the air lickety-split—the watchful bodyguard be damned.
Once a cottontail rabbit ran across their path. The horses shied. She laughed and had the frisky white mare he’d given her settled and easy in about a second flat.
So, yeah, she knew horses. And she knew how to handle them. He’d figured as much from those things she said about her sister Alice that first night, about the Akhal-Tekes they kept in Montedoro. But it was one thing to know it in his head and another to ride out at her side and be confident she knew what she was doing.
Back at the stables, he told her to go on inside, he’d take care of the horses. But she insisted she could unsaddle her own horse. And she did, removing the bridle first, then taking his tips on how to proceed, given the differences between the Western saddle and the English saddle she was accustomed to.
Once the horses were groomed and free in the near paddock, she thanked him. And then she turned and left him standing there, staring after her gorgeous swaying backside, wishing he had grabbed her and kissed her and promised her anything if she would only be with him again.
He slept alone that night.
It was bad. He’d known that it would be. That he would suffer like hell when she left him.
He just hadn’t expected to do all this suffering when she was still right there in the house with him. She and Charlotte and Marcus spent most of the next day in Missoula, finishing up the Christmas shopping. And then, when they came home, the old man took off. He said he had some Christmas shopping of his own to do. He didn’t get home until after dinner, but Charlotte had kept a plate ready for him.
She fussed over him, getting him a glass of whiskey, jumping up to get him more bread. He actually kissed her when she passed him the butter. You’d think they were newlyweds sometimes, the way the two of them carried on. It annoyed Pres no end. Didn’t the old man have any clue how tough it was going to be for him when Charlotte left with Belle?
Apparently not. His dad seemed to be much better than he was at living in the moment, at enjoying a good thing while he had it and not worrying about the pain that was coming down the pike.
That evening, Belle reminded him that he needed to start thinking about hiring a nanny, someone to take care of Ben when he and the old man were out working.
He said, “Yeah, I’ll get right on it.”
“When?” she asked so sweetly.
“The day after Christmas. How’s that?”
“That will be fine. Would you like me to ask Mary Beth or Father Francis if they have anyone they would recommend?”
“Thanks, but I can handle it.”
She didn’t say anything after that. Only nodded.
And walked away.
Another lonely night dragged by.
And all of a sudden, it was Christmas Eve. The women played Christmas music all day. He was getting pretty tired of hearing “White Christmas.” But then, his nerves were generally shot.
Every night Belle wasn’t with him was a whole new kind of purgatory.
And he knew she was leaving right after New Year’s. That meant a week of constant suffering, wanting to talk to her the way they used to talk, with warmth and understanding between them. Wanting to touch her when touching was not allowed. Yeah. Another week of that.
Then she would go.
And he would probably be even more miserable than he was now.
It was getting so he couldn’t remember why he’d turned her down Saturday night—well, okay. He did know. It was so he wouldn’t suffer in a year or two when she realized she was sick and tired of being a rancher’s wife and decided to hightail it back to her villa by the sea in glittering, glamorous Montedoro. It was because it was going to be so damn much worse to lose her later than to go ahead and bite the bullet now.
God in heaven. He didn’t see how it could get all that much worse than this.
Over dinner that night, they discussed attending Midnight Mass and the candlelight service. But they decided to skip it that year.
“Next year,” his dad promised, sharing a rather intimate look with Charlotte. “No matter what.”
“No matter what,” Charlotte answered softly.
After Ben was in bed and Marcus had retired to his room, the old man appeared in the family room with a bottle of champagne in one hand and four fluted crystal glasses between the gnarled fingers of the other. He raised the bottle high. “Let’s pop this champagne. Shar and I have an announcement to make.”
At which point Charlotte, on the sofa, jumped to her feet. “Silas.” She gave him a look. One of those looks that women have been giving men since the dawn of time. “We discussed this.”
The old man blustered back, “I’m an impatient man, Shar. I’m tired of waitin’. It’s time we laid it on out there, time everyone knew our plans.”
She hustled to his side, grabbed his arm and spoke in a flustered whisper. “There are others to consider here and you know that.”
He dipped his gray head and planted a kiss on her upturned mouth.
“Silas!” She was blushing.
“Then you better damn well consider ’em
now. I am poppin’ this cork tonight, one way or another.”
“Oh, Silas...”
He bent close and kissed her again. “Go on, now,” he said, his mustache twitching with his devilish smile and his voice downright tender. “Do what you need to do....”
Charlotte sighed. And then she nodded. And then she let go of his arm and turned to Belle, who was watching them with an expression that fell midway between bemused and slightly stunned. “I wonder if we might share a private word?”
Belle got up. She raised her head high and put on a gentle smile, the way she always did when she faced something difficult. For a moment, Pres forgot all about his own suffering and only wanted to get his arms around her and tell her it was going to be okay—even if it wasn’t. Everyone knew what was happening here. Ben wasn’t the only one Belle would be leaving behind come the New Year. “Of course,” she said, still smiling. “Let’s go upstairs.”
* * *
Belle shut the door of her bedroom and went to sit on the side of the bed beside her longtime companion.
Charlotte had her hands folded in her lap—but she couldn’t keep them still. From folding them she had quickly progressed to wringing them.
Belle put her hand over both of Charlotte’s. “Come now. It’s not as terrible as all that. In fact, if I’ve assumed correctly, it seems that something wonderful has happened and congratulations are in order.”
Charlotte’s hands stilled—but her shoulders dropped. “I’ve been trying since Sunday to find a way to tell you. But I know that things aren’t going well with you and Preston. I didn’t want to...make things worse. I hate to leave you. I...” She blew out a heavy breath in lieu of saying the rest.
It did hurt. To think of losing Charlotte, too. It hurt a great deal. But it was also cause for real rejoicing. Belle did her best to focus on the joy. “So, then, you’re marrying Silas and staying here?”
Charlotte sniffled and swallowed hard. “It’s horrible of me, I know.”
Belle squeezed Charlotte’s hands and then put her arm around her friend. She guided Charlotte’s head down on her shoulder. “Listen. Are you listening?”
Charlotte sniffled again. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“I am so happy for you. Silas is a lucky man—and he’s also a wonderful man.”
“He is. Yes.” There was more sniffling.
Belle reached over, snagged a tissue from the box on the nightstand and passed it to Charlotte. “You have waited far too long to have your happiness.”
“But what about your happiness, dearest?” A sob escaped Charlotte. She did her best to swallow it back. “Oh, I’m such a ninny.”
“No, you most definitely are not a ninny.” Belle stroked her silver-threaded light brown hair, breathed in the rose scent she always wore. “And as for my happiness, one day I shall have it. Just you watch. But for now, I’m very happy that my dearest friend has found what she’s been looking for. And think how perfect this is for our Ben. We’ve been so worried that he won’t have enough of a woman’s influence in his life as he grows. But now we know that he will. He will have his beloved Shar-Shar right there with him, to love him and care for him, every single day from this day forward. And we won’t have to worry about finding the right nanny in a big hurry. You can take care of that in time as you see fit.”
Charlotte sniffed again. And then she lifted her head from Belle’s shoulder. “This tissue is hopelessly soggy. Could you pass me another?”
Belle did just that. “Now, I want you to dry your eyes and we’ll go downstairs and toast to the coming union of two of my favorite people in this whole, wide world.”
* * *
So they went down to join the men. Silas opened the champagne and they toasted the engagement of Preston’s father and Charlotte. Belle took care not to glance in Preston’s direction during the toasts. She didn’t know what she might do or say if she caught him looking her way.
She was absolutely livid with him for turning his back on what they might have shared together. She was furious and she was deeply hurt. She would have hated him.
If only she didn’t love him so much.
The few hours until bedtime dragged by. But finally, at ten, she allowed herself to say good-night. Upstairs in the bathroom she went through the motions, cleansing her face, brushing her teeth. Then she crossed the hall to her room, put on a plain white nightgown and got into bed. She heard Preston come up. It seemed to her he hesitated in front of her door.
Her heart stopped.
And then recommenced beating in a glum and plodding way when he went on by and entered his own room. She heard him close his door.
Two hours later, the Christmas lights in the yard had gone out and she was still wide awake, lying there in the dark, staring up at the shadowed ceiling, wishing she dared to simply pack her things and leave in the morning.
But no. There was more than her broken heart to consider here. If she left early, Charlotte would know exactly how bad off she was. After all, Charlotte was well aware of how determined and focused she could be. If her pain was so great that she couldn’t see this visit through until the New Year, well, Charlotte would worry. And she didn’t want her loyal longtime companion worrying any more than absolutely necessary. Charlotte fully deserved the happiness she’d found. She deserved to have a glorious first holiday season with her newfound true love. And Belle was determined to see that she got it.
Plus, there was Ben. He was adjusting marvelously to his new life here in Montana, to his father and his grandfather. But another week with Belle available to him seemed wise. Yes, he needed to move on, to let her go. And she was working on that, shifting the responsibility for him more and more to Preston and Silas. And after tonight, she could add Charlotte into that mix. The goal was to have everyone but Belle caring for him by the time she left. With Charlotte to count on, pulling away from Ben was going to be a lot smoother than she would have dared to hope.
And that just made her feel more lost and alone and hopeless.
She considered getting up and calling home. Talking to Rhia might help.
But then again, no matter what she did now, it was going to be a hellish week. No need to drag her sister down into her misery with her.
Maybe a little hot milk would help soothe her, help her get a little sleep. She was pushing back the covers and lowering her feet to the rug when she heard the explosion outside—a horrible, screeching sound, followed by a crash and an ear-flaying crunching of metal.
A second later, it all happened again.
A horn started honking. And kept honking. One long, continuous wail of sound.
She let out a small cry of alarm and ran to the window. It took her startled brain several seconds to register what she saw.
In the light of the half moon, she saw that a red pickup had crashed into the big pine tree in the center of the yard. And then a black pickup had crashed into the red one. One headlight on each vehicle remained on, beaming bright streams of light into the frozen Montana night.
That horn kept honking.
As she whirled from the window to grab her robe, she saw the lights go on at Silas’s house and the ranch hands’ cabin—and heard Ben start crying. Swiftly, she pulled on her robe and put on her slippers.
Preston emerged from his room as she came out of hers. Even with the horn blaring and Ben yowling, they both stopped stock-still for a moment and stared at each other. The constant aching in her heart turned to agony.
Then Preston finished zipping up his jeans. “You get Ben? I’ll go down.”
“Yes, all right.” She shook herself and turned for Ben’s room.
Ben was inconsolable, standing in his crib, screaming for Anne.
Belle rushed to him and scooped him up. “Oh, Ben. It’s all right. You’re safe, my darling. Safe...”
He pushed at her and told her no and called out “Mama!” over and over.
She carried him to the rocker and sat down and rocked him until he stopped pushing he
r away and grabbed her close instead, until he stopped crying for Anne and sobbed her name. “Belle, Belle...”
“Yes, oh yes. That was so scary. I was scared, too. But you are safe and I have got you and everything is going to be all right....”
“Belle.” He gave a soggy little sniff and nuzzled her neck. “Belle...”
Charlotte appeared in the open doorway to the upstairs hall, those big eyes wider than ever.
Belle stroked Ben’s soft hair and cradled him close to her heart. “What happened?”
“Preston’s old girlfriend had a fight with her husband.”
“Lucy and Monty, you mean?”
Charlotte nodded. “She took off in her truck and he took off after her. Somehow, she ended up here. She crashed into the pine tree out in front. And he crashed into her.”
“Insane.”
“My thought exactly.”
“Were they drinking?”
“Surprisingly, no. Just young and wildly in love and very, very stupid.”
“Are they...all right?”
“She has a broken nose, I think. It appears that he’s broken his leg and dislocated a shoulder.”
“Oh, dear God...”
“We’ve called an ambulance. But I think you should come down and have a look at them. Here. I’ll take Ben....”
Belle rose and handed him over. At first, he held on, his little arms tight around her neck. She feared he would make a fuss. But then he sighed, “Shar-Shar,” and went to her willingly.
Belle went downstairs. They had brought the young couple inside to the family room. Monty lay on the sofa. Lucy, holding a bloody rag to her nose, knelt beside him. Silas, Preston, Marcus and the two hands stood well back. All of them looked as though they would prefer to be anywhere but there.
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