All Things Considered

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All Things Considered Page 9

by Debbie Macomber

“I went to a tavern last night. Sure, there were women there, but I didn’t so much as look at one of them.” He couldn’t—not when all he could think about was Lanni. One woman had been particularly insistent, leaning over him in an effort to catch his attention, but she’d gotten the message soon enough. He wasn’t interested. How could he be, when his thoughts had centered on the times he’d come home late to find Lanni in bed asleep? In living Technicolor he recalled how he’d stripped off his clothes and slipped between the sheets beside her. Lanni would nestle her sleepy, warm body against him and sigh. Man and woman as God had intended them from the beginning of time.

  And Lanni honestly believed he’d gone to another woman. Instead, he’d been in torment, drinking in an effort to dispel the image of those days when their love had been purer and stronger than anything he’d ever experienced. Alcohol had done little to diminish the memory and he’d returned to the hotel more confused than he’d been when he left. A lot of things had changed over the years, but Judd doubted that their lovemaking ever could. They had been magnificent together. But anything physical between them would be wrong now. He recognized and accepted that, but the knowledge did little to eat away his desire.

  “I’m not lying,” he told her, shaking his head as a weariness of heart and soul settled over him. So this was the reason she’d been so taciturn all day, wreaking payment for imagined wrongs. He swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. Lanni had such little faith in him. So little faith—so little trust. The pain-filled anger within him mounted with each heartbeat.

  “So that’s why you’ve been treating me like I had the plague all day. What kind of man do you think I am?” Twisting around, he gripped her shoulders and anchored her against the mattress. His eyes resembled those of a wild animal caught in a trap. Stricken. Intense. Dangerous.

  “I thought—”

  “I know what you thought.” He glared down at her with an anger that would have panicked a lesser woman.

  Startled, Lanni struggled to break free, flattening her hands against his hard chest and pushing with all her strength. The weight of his anger held her firm. He was crushed against her, his tight features above hers pinning her more effectively than the strong hold of his arms.

  “Don’t try and tell me you weren’t with some woman last night.” Her voice became a strangled whisper in an effort to keep from waking Jenny. “I smelled her perfume.”

  “I wasn’t with anyone,” he answered, just as furious. He stared down at her, silently challenging her to contradict him a second time.

  Their panting breaths echoed as Lanni defiantly met the fury in his gaze.

  “I know you, Judd, I know how virile you are…”

  “Me?” He said it with a short, humorless laugh. “You were the one who was always so hot. How have you survived the last two years? I suppose you sought a substitute in Steve.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “How far did you go with that milquetoast?”

  “Judd, stop—”

  “Did he kiss you?”

  “Judd,” she cried. “Please…”

  Their gazes held for a moment longer while Judd struggled to subdue his temper. Fearing his grip would hurt her, he released her voluntarily. Moving away, he raked his fingers through his hair and stared sightlessly into the distance. “Never mind. Don’t answer, because I don’t want to know.”

  “I…You wouldn’t look at me this morning. Like you were guilty of something. And then I could smell cheap cologne on you.”

  “I’d gotten drunk. If you want the truth, there was a woman who approached me. I sent her away. I’m not proud of what I did—leaving you in the hotel while I drowned my problems. It’s not the type of thing a man likes to do when his wife and daughter are with him.”

  “You felt bad because you had a drink?”

  He nodded, unwilling to look at her.

  “That’s it?”

  He stood and walked to the other side of the room, pushing back the draperies. A wide ribbon of moonlight flooded the room. His fist bunched up the thick material as he gazed sightlessly into the night.

  The numbness gradually left Lanni and she raised herself onto her elbows. Judd stood at the window, the moonlight silhouetting his profile against the opposite wall. His head drooped as if the weight of holding it upright was too much for him. His shoulders were slouched; his hand gripped the draperies as though he wanted to rip them from the rod.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, confused. She hadn’t meant to unjustly accuse him. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. He’d left her and Jenny in that hotel room the way he had always walked out on them and she hadn’t been able to deal with the rejection. Not again. Not now.

  Judd heard her but didn’t turn around. Lanni left the bed and started to pace the area behind him. “I was wrong to accuse you,” she admitted.

  He acknowledged her with a curt nod. “We all make mistakes. Don’t worry about it.” He forced his voice to sound light, unconcerned. “Go back to bed. At least one of us should sleep.” He turned away from the window and reached for his clothes.

  He was leaving her again. For two nights running, he had walked out on her. Lanni couldn’t bear it.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered desperately, holding her hand out to him. “Please, not again.” She couldn’t handle it. She needed him with her. Tomorrow they’d be in Twin Deer. The problems awaiting them in Judd’s hometown were overwhelming. They needed to secure a peace between them, and if Judd left tonight, they would solve nothing.

  Judd hesitated. The desperation in Lanni’s voice tugged at his heart.

  “Please.” Her heart pounded. She had so much pride. They both did. Judd knew what it had cost her to ask him to stay—she’d sworn never to do it again.

  His features were difficult to make out in the dark. Lanni didn’t know what he was thinking; she no longer cared.

  Judd dropped his clothes and without thought Lanni walked into his arms. His crushing grip on her made breathing difficult. She whimpered softly, holding on to him with all her strength. Judd buried his face along the curve of her neck and exhaled forcefully.

  “I believe you,” she whispered again. The chaos and tension inside Lanni gradually subsided. The chill left her bones. She could feel Judd’s breath whisper against her hair and smell the masculine scent of his body.

  “Not once in all those months was I unfaithful,” he told her forcefully. “Not even once.”

  A huge sob slid from Lanni’s throat as her heart swelled, making her giddy with relief. She didn’t doubt him. Not after what she’d seen in him tonight. All these months, he’d kept their vows pure. She wasn’t so naïve to believe that there hadn’t been temptations. She knew better. There’d been plenty of those. Lots of eager women. Months of loneliness.

  Laughter blended with the tears as she gripped the side of his face and rained kisses across his brow. Her lips found his eyes, his nose, his cheek.

  “Lanni.” He raised his hand to stop her and discovered he couldn’t. She was like a child who’d been granted an unexpected surprise. It felt too good to hold her in his arms to put an end to it so quickly.

  When her mouth inadvertently brushed against the corner of his, Lanni paused and Judd softly caught his breath. Time skidded to a standstill as they stared at each other in the dark. He needed to taste her. Desperately wanted her. Unable to stop himself, Judd let his mouth claim hers, hungry with two years of pent-up need and desire. Her lips parted in welcome.

  Lanni sagged against him, weak and trembling.

  Hot sensation raced through him. She was like a flower. Petal soft. Silky. Lovely.

  “I thought…” Lanni felt the need to explain.

  “I know. I swear to you there was no one.”

  “I believe you.” She propped h
er forehead against his chin. “Things will be better once we’re in Twin Deer.”

  “Right.” But he knew differently. He dropped his arms, releasing her. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “It was my fault. I was the one—”

  “Must it always be someone’s fault?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  The tender moment was over. They stepped away from each other, struggling to put their relationship back into the proper perspective.

  Six

  “I feel all better.”

  Unwillingly, Lanni opened one eye to discover her daughter standing above her. Betsy, Jenny’s beloved doll, was securely clenched under one arm. The plastic pacifier in the doll’s mouth loomed over Lanni’s face.

  “I’m not sick anymore.”

  “I’m glad, sweetheart.” Five more minutes. All she needed was a few more minutes to clear her befuddled head.

  “Can I get in bed with you and Daddy?”

  Jenny’s request propelled Lanni into action. She climbed out of bed and headed for her suitcase. “Not now. We’re going to see your grandpa today. Remember?” She took a fresh change of clothes and brought Jenny into the bathroom with her. By the time she returned, Judd was up and dressed as well. Either by design or by accident, their gazes just managed to avoid meeting. They’d slept in the same bed, but had gone to lengths to keep from touching. Lanni hadn’t thought she’d be able to sleep, but surprisingly, she’d drifted off easily. She didn’t know about Judd.

  “Morning,” he said when they appeared, and he offered them a good-natured smile. He stood on the other side of the room, bright-eyed and refreshed, looking as though he’d risen with the sun after a restful night of slumber.

  “I’m not sick anymore, Daddy.”

  “What about Betsy?” he asked, glancing at the doll.

  “She’s all better, too!” Jenny exclaimed proudly. “Am I really going to see my grandpa today?”

  “Sometime this afternoon, if everything goes well.”

  “I’m going to be real good,” Jenny promised. “And Betsy, too.”

  True to her word, the four-year-old was a model traveling companion. She played quietly in the backseat of the car for a good portion of the morning. When she grew bored, she sang songs she’d learned in nursery school. Soon Lanni’s voice blended with her daughter’s. At familiar childhood ditties, Judd’s deep baritone joined theirs. Jenny loved to hear Judd sing and clapped her small hands to show her delight.

  The miles sped past. Judd was the quiet one this day, Lanni noted. But the silence wasn’t a strained one. From the way his brow was creased, she knew his thoughts were dark and heavy—introspective. Lanni realized that his mind was on the approaching meeting with his father and not on their disagreements.

  They had a truce of sorts—more of an understanding. Their marriage was over; they both had accepted the truth of that. It had been damaged beyond repair two years before; even longer, but Lanni had refused to acknowledge the failure before Judd left her and Jenny. Their vows had continued to bind them to each other, but it was long past the time to get on with their lives.

  They stopped for lunch at a small café outside Billings. Jenny fell asleep in the backseat of the SUV soon after. The traffic on the freeway was light, and Lanni noted that for the first time Judd was driving faster than the speed limit. She found it curious that he would do so now. It was as though an urgency drove him, pushing him harder and faster as he neared the town of Twin Deer.

  He hadn’t told her much about Stuart’s condition, other than the fact his father was dying. Lanni believed that Judd probably didn’t know much more himself.

  Resting her head against the headrest, Lanni allowed her lids to drift closed. She knew so little about Judd’s childhood. He had mentioned his youth only in passing, and usually in the briefest of terms, as if the subject were best left undisturbed. From what she had been able to glean, his younger years had been unhappy. There’d been no Christmases. No tree, no presents, no stocking by the fireplace. That much she knew. And probably no Easters or any other holidays, either.

  For a time after they were first together, Lanni had suspected that Judd had married her because of her strong family ties. She was close to her parents and sister. After they’d married, Lanni’s parents warmly welcomed Judd into their lives. He was accepted by her extended family of aunts, uncles, and a multitude of cousins as well. It astonished her how well he blended in, as if he’d always been a part of them. It wasn’t until after Jenny was born that Lanni noticed Judd withdrawing from her family. He objected when her mother and father offered solutions to their financial problems. He didn’t like her dad “putting a good word in for him” with a local contractor. Nor did he appreciate the unexpected visits her parents paid them without notice.

  “Another hour,” Judd said. When Lanni opened her eyes and glanced at him, he realized he’d spoken aloud. He hadn’t meant to.

  Lanni straightened.

  “Sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t. I was just resting my eyes.”

  Judd concentrated on the road. He’d been awake most of the night, thinking about the ranch and mentally preparing himself for this so-called homecoming. He didn’t expect it to be pleasant. He’d been away from the ranch for nearly eighteen years. Not once in all that time had he looked back. When he’d left, he’d told Stuart he wouldn’t return—not unless he was asked to. It’d taken all these years for Stuart to send for him. And now only because he was dying. Judd wanted to curse his father’s stubborn pride, but recognized that his own was equally unreasonable.

  He dragged in a breath of clean air. The scent of wildflowers brought a brief smile. Now as he neared the ranch, he realized how much he had missed Montana.

  Jim Peterman, his father’s foreman, had once told him that Montana was good for the soul. Funny that he’d remember that after all these years. Another quirk in his memory was that Twin Deer was only a few miles from Custer Battlefield, where Lieutenant Colonel George Custer had made his last stand against the Sioux and Cheyenne warriors. As a boy, Judd had wandered over the bluffs of the battle-scarred ground. He’d even discovered a few tarnished arrowheads. At twelve, he’d considered them priceless treasures, and now he fleetingly wondered what had happened to them. Knowing Stuart, he’d probably tossed them in the garbage just to be ornery.

  Sadness permeated Judd’s spirit at the thought of his father. The realization that the old man was dying produced a heaviness that felt like concrete blocks weighing down his heart. There was no love lost between them—never had been. Nonetheless Judd hated the thought of Stuart suffering.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Lanni said.

  “Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “The Circle M.”

  Lanni’s brows arched. “What’s that?”

  “The ranch.” Judd was astonished that he’d never told her the name. “It’s also our brand.”

  “You mean they still brand cattle?”

  Despite his efforts not to, Judd chuckled. “At least they did when I was last home.” The word home seemed to echo in the close confines of the SUV. The Circle M was home, no matter how much he tried to deny it. He was going home. Home, with all its memories—with all its lures.

  “Did you raise cows?”

  A suggestion of a smile touched his eyes as he glanced at Lanni. “Steers.”

  Feeling a bit chagrined, Lanni said, “Right.”

  “Do you have horseys?” The eager voice from the backseat surprised them both. Lanni hadn’t realized Jenny was awake.

  “When I was a little boy, I had a pony.”

  The information was news to Lanni. “What was his name?”

  “Trigger.”

  Lanni smiled. “You weren’t very original,
were you?”

  “Sure I was. At the time my name was Roy Rogers.”

  “I’ll be your Dale Evans anytime.” The words came without thought. Color crept up Lanni’s neck in a flush of hot pink. She didn’t know what had gotten into her to make such a suggestion. “That isn’t exactly what I meant to say.”

  “Don’t worry. I know what you meant.”

  Lanni was pleased he did, since she hadn’t the foggiest notion where the words had come from. Certainly not her head—her heart, perhaps. This time with Judd was going to be far worse than she’d imagined. Last night she’d wanted him to make love to her. Sensation after sensation had shot through her—ones Lanni had assumed long dead and conveniently buried. Thirty seconds of sexual awareness had momentarily wiped out two years of bitterness. She wouldn’t allow it to happen again, and she wouldn’t, Lanni vowed.

  Color tinged her cheeks at the realization of what could have happened, but then Judd had always been able to do that to her. There’d never been another man she’d wanted half as much. Little had changed from the time when they’d first met all those years ago. Lanni had feared that Judd would think her brazen. At the time, her behavior had been little short of audacious. He’d been so worldly, so traveled. She’d strived to seem sophisticated, but none of it had mattered to Judd. He’d wanted her then just as he had in the motel last night, and she’d nearly succumbed to his lovemaking. In the cruel light of day, Lanni thanked God that Judd had had the common sense to put an end to the kissing. All things considered, allowing their kissing to get out of hand now would be disastrous to them both.

  “We’re on Circle M land now,” Judd announced solemnly.

  “Will I get to see Grandpa soon?” Jenny’s voice rang clear, light, and excited.

  “Real soon.” The muscles of Judd’s abdomen tightened with nervous anticipation. The letter from Stuart had been brief. Stark. Judd had no conception of what awaited him.

  “Is that the house?” Lanni pointed ahead to the two-story house. The faded brown structure melted in with the surroundings so completely that they had already turned into the long driveway before she realized that the dilapidated building must be Judd’s home. The house looked like something out of the nineteenth century, with a wide front porch. Four pillars supported the second-story balcony. One leaned dangerously to the side so that the upper structure tilted off-center. Shutters lined the large rectangular windows. Several were missing, and the remaining few hung precariously. The house was badly in need of paint. The once white exterior had faded with weather and time to a dull shade of earth tone. Once, Lanni could tell, the house had been a source of pride and care. No longer. Like Stuart Matthiessen, the house was dying.

 

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