by Lisa Jackson
His jaw tightened as he made his way out of the clinic on the crutches. Damn, he hated anything to do with medicine. Hospitals and clinics, they were too sterile, too cold, too unfeeling. He couldn’t imagine Beth working in that kind of environment.
Beth. He couldn’t shake her image from his mind—the way she’d gently caressed him, the feel of her tongue against his nipple, the smell of her hair as she’d found a way to pleasure him. He’d wondered over the past few months if he’d ever be able to make love again. She’d shown him that his manhood seemed to be functioning normally. In fact, ever since she’d returned to Rimrock, his hormones had been on overload.
Once outside, he determined to see Beth again and pin her down.
He couldn’t leave things the way they were.
The last thing Beth needed was to see Stan’s Chrysler parked in the driveway, but there it was, big as life, sitting in the shade of a spruce tree and blocking the view of her mother’s flower bed.
A weight settled over her shoulders as she edged her trusty Nova next to the curb, twisted the key in the ignition, and felt the little car’s engine shudder to a stop. “I don’t think I’m ready for this,” Beth said with a frown. She really didn’t want to deal with Stan, not after changing the course of her life forever by becoming intimate with Jenner.
In a few short days, she had let Jenner touch her where Stan had never dared; he was too much a gentleman. The opposite of Jenner McKee. “Come on, Crandall,” she told herself. “You can’t put this off.” With a new sense of determination, she tossed her keys into her purse and headed out.
Inside the house, Harriet sat cross-legged on the floor working a puzzle with Cody. Stan was leaning back in the rocker, one leg propped on a footstool, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he perused the local paper. Beth didn’t bother closing the door.
Scrambling to his feet, Cody spied her first and cried, “Mommy! Mommy!” He hurled his sturdy little body into her arms. “I ate a waffle this—” he held his arms as wide as they would stretch “—big!”
“Good for you,” she said, holding him tightly, her throat suddenly clogged as she remembered Jenner’s worries about his safety. Surely there was no reason to think her son was in danger.
Carrying Cody on her hip, she walked into the living room and offered a smile to Stan, who was watching her over the top of his reading glasses. “Hi,” she said. “I was surprised to see your car outside.”
“I know. I probably should have called but, well, for once I thought what the hell and just took off.”
“I couldn’t eat it all,” Cody said, casting Stan a dark glare.
“What? Oh, the waffle. Well, that’s all right. Hey, tell me, did you meet some of Grandma’s friends?” she whispered into her son’s ear.
“Lots and lots!”
“They thought he was absolutely adorable,” Harriet boasted. “Oh, look, here’s the duck’s beak.”
“Me do!” Cody squirmed out of Beth’s arms and dashed back to squat near the puzzle and shove the yellow piece firmly into place. “All done!”
“And well done,” Harriet said.
“Do ’gain!”
A furrow deepened between Stan’s eyesbrows. “Now, Cody, your grandmother’s already helped you with it three times since I’ve been here. Maybe you can think of something else to do.”
Harriet laughed as Cody, ignoring Stan, dumped the pieces onto the floor.
“Do ’gain, Gramma.”
“Why not?”
“Cody—” Stan began to reproach him in a gentle but firm tone.
“It’s all right, Stan.” Beth tossed her purse into a corner of the couch and hung her jacket on the coat tree. She wondered how she looked, if she showed any signs that she’d spent the better part of the day with Jenner, most of which was involved in lovemaking.
“You know, Beth, I was worried about you. After the phone call the other morning, I thought I’d better drive over here and see what was wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Nothing? But—” He stopped and cast a glance at Harriet and Cody.
“I guess that’s our cue to leave, sport,” Harriet said. “Besides, we’ve got work to do. There’s some apples that need to be picked before dark if we’re gonna make that pie.”
Cody was on his feet in an instant. “Like pie,” he said.
“Then come on, we’d better get shakin’.” Harriet took his hand and, leaving the puzzle pieces in the middle of the floor, headed through the kitchen and out the back door.
Beth waited to hear the door slam before she let out her breath. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she knew, as she’d suspected for a long time, that Stan wasn’t the man for her.
And Jenner McKee is?
No! Maybe there was never going to be a man for her.
“Come here,” Stan said, and when she didn’t move, he walked across the room and took her into his strong arms. Though he was nearing sixty, he kept himself in good shape and could have passed for forty-five. “You scared me, Beth. When you said it was over.”
Her heart softened a little. “It scared me, too, Stan,” she admitted, carefully sliding out of his arms. “But I think it’s for the best.”
“The best? Are you out of your mind? I’m crazy about you.” He ran a hand through his graying hair. “I... I can’t imagine what it would be like living without you.”
“You did it before.”
“And it was hell.”
She told herself to be strong, that though she cared for Stan, it wasn’t enough. She didn’t love him, not as he wanted or needed or ought to be loved. Then there was his problem with Cody. “I’m sorry, Stan,” she said, her throat clogging, “but I’ve thought about it and I can’t keep seeing you.”
“Why not? Don’t you hear me, Beth? Aren’t you listening? I love you, I want to marry you, to take care of you and your son.”
At one time those words would have been music to her ears, but she’d learned that she could stand on her own, take care of herself, be both mother and father to Cody. She could juggle a job and single motherhood; in fact, she was damned good at it. Her mother was right. She couldn’t settle. “I—I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since I got here, Stan, and it’s not working, not for me. And I don’t think it’s working for you, either.”
“You’re wrong,” he protested, but she noticed the doubt in his eyes.
“What you and I want are worlds apart.”
“How can you say that?”
“Please,” she said, steeling herself, “let me finish. I want more kids, Stan.”
“Good Lord, why?”
“It’s just the way I feel. Cody needs a sister or a brother and I... I would like to be a mother again.”
The corners of Stan’s mouth pinched, the way they did when Cody made too much noise or demanded too much attention or got in the way when Stan wanted to take her to a movie or a ball game or a restaurant alone. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he said, his voice suddenly cold, his nostrils twitching as if encountering a bad smell. “You’re trying to take up with Cody’s father again, aren’t you?”
She wanted to lie, to tell him that she didn’t care for the man who had sired Cody, that she was willing to turn her back on him. But the truth of the matter was that, if she examined her feelings for Jenner more closely, they were a lot more complicated than she would ever admit. To Stan. Or to herself.
“Oh, God, Beth. Do you know what you’re throwing away? All for a man who didn’t want you and didn’t want his boy.”
Beth didn’t have time to respond because at that moment she heard the distinctive roar of an old pickup’s engine and knew that Jenner had just rounded the corner of the street. Her stomach clenched when she heard the engine die, the slam of a heavy door and the uneven tread of boots hitching up the front walk. Her throat worked for a second. “I’m sorry, Stan,” she said with more than a little regret. She had pinned so many hopes on this man, probably been blind to his flaws b
ecause she wanted the security of a stable, rock-solid man’s love.
A father figure. Not for Cody—but for myself!
Deep inside her, something broke free.
A heavy hand knocked boldly on the frame of the door.
“It’s open,” she called over her shoulder, and Jenner, crutches thrust out ahead of him, a thunderous expression as dark as the mountains in winter, filled the doorway.
“I didn’t think we were finished...” Jenner’s voice trailed off and his gaze collided with Stan’s for a second, and then, as if he thought the older man was a friend of Harriet’s, he forced a grin. “Jenner McKee,” he said, hobbling up and extending a hand, even though he was balancing on his crutches.
Stan’s eyes narrowed and his gaze slid from the tips of Jenner’s dusty boots, up his worn jeans, past his flannel shirt and shadow of a beard, to his eyes—blue as the Oregon sky in June. Stan’s nostrils flared as if he smelled something unpleasant, but he extended his hand. “Stanley Cole. I’m a friend of Beth’s.”
One of Jenner’s eyebrows arched. “Of Beth’s.”
Stan slipped his wallet out of his back pocket and withdrew one of his business cards. “That’s right.” He handed the embossed card to Jenner. “I’m with the National Insurance Company.”
Jenner glanced at Beth as if to ask if this guy was for real.
She didn’t move a muscle, just prayed that this whole thing would soon be over. Her palms began to sweat as Jenner flipped the card over once, then lifted his eyes to meet Stan’s again. This time his gaze was dark and serious. “I’m a friend of Beth’s, too.”
“Just a friend?”
“A close friend.”
“Jenner, don’t—”
“Why not?” Jenner demanded. “Who is this guy?”
“Before she came back here to see you—I assume this is the guy—” he hooked his thumb in Jenner’s direction and glanced at Beth who nodded “—Beth and I were planning to get married.”
Jenner’s mouth flattened into a harsh line.
“That’s not true, Stan,” Beth interjected. “We’d discussed it, yes, but it wasn’t as if we’d even gotten engaged.”
“Because of him,” Stan accused, his furious gaze raking down Jenner again, one finger jabbing the air near Jenner’s chest. “Because you never got over him, even though the only thing he did was get you pregnant and dump you.”
Jenner moved fast, too fast for a man on crutches, but he kept his balance and swung himself closer to Stan. His eyes were mere slits. “You don’t know anything about what happened,” he said, his lips barely moving, his eyes bright with anger.
“I know she ended up in Oregon City—alone. Had a kid there. And I know that before she came here to see you, she was different.”
That much was true. In the days she’d been in Rimrock, she’d changed, become more independent, realized more fully what she wanted out of life. She’d thought once that she could be content with Stan, that she shouldn’t expect more out of life than contentment and security. But then she’d met Jenner again and realized there was more. If nothing else, she owed Jenner McKee for making her face up to her own needs and wants as a woman.
“You mixed her up, McKee,” Stan charged.
“I’m not mixed up,” Beth interjected.
“Maybe you never really knew her,” Jenner drawled.
“I think I know her better than some punk cowboy who’s...”
“Who’s what?” Jenner demanded. “Go ahead and say it. A cripple. That’s what you were thinking.”
Stan had the decency to close his mouth.
Jenner swung around and faced Beth. “You want this guy?” he asked, pointing a crutch at Stan.
“Jenner I—he’s my friend.”
“Sure. Well, lady, it’s your choice. If you want to marry the insurance man, no one’s going to stop you.” His eyes narrowed on her, but the blue flames of anger were still visible.
“I’m not marrying anyone,” she said firmly. “I don’t need a man—”
“Then why’d you come back here?” Jenner asked, cutting her off.
“For God’s sake, Beth, he can’t talk to you like that.”
“Maybe it would be better,” she said, more calmly than she felt as her insides were quivering in rage, “if you both left.”
The back door squeaked, and Cody, an apple with a tiny bite out of it in one hand, streaked into the room. He saw Jenner and slid to a stop. “You here ’gain?”
Stan stiffened. Beth, sending both men a glare meant to keep them quiet, bent down on one knee. “It’s polite to say hello,” she said, her heart thudding wildly.
“’Lo.”
“He doesn’t know?” Stan asked. This time Jenner’s harsh glare shut him up.
“Know what?” Cody asked innocently.
“That Stan’s leaving, honey.” Beth picked her son off the floor and tried to paste a composed, friendly smile on her face, though she seethed inside. “Say goodbye.”
“Bye-bye.” Cody moved the fingers of his free hand up and down in a wave.
Stan sent Beth a withering look. “All right. You’ve made your decision. But when it doesn’t work out with the local yokel and you fall into a million pieces, don’t expect me to pick them up again.”
“I won’t,” she answered quietly and flinched as Stan stormed out of the house, the door banging shut behind him.
“He mad,” Cody observed.
“Very.”
Jenner hooked an insolent thumb in the direction Stan had taken. “That’s the kind of man you’ve been dating?”
“The only man,” she said, still holding Cody so tightly that her son squirmed in her arms. Every other man who’d shown interest in her hadn’t accepted Cody and looked upon her son as extra baggage. She hadn’t expected the same from Stan.
“Sheesh.” He watched through the window as Stan slid into a shiny new Chrysler, started the engine and pulled a U-turn on his way out of town. “That guy’s old enough to be—”
“Don’t say it,” she snapped. “He’s a good man. This wasn’t one of his better days.”
“I hope not.” Jenner’s gaze lingered on Beth’s face for a second longer than necessary before sliding over to Cody’s. “How ya doin’, sport?” he asked. Cody tilted up his face to stare at Jenner.
“Why you got those?” He pointed at the crutches. “You hurt?”
“A little bit.”
“And that.” Cody eyed the brace quizzically, dropping the apple in his curiosity. He poked at the straps and padding. “I wear.”
Jenner snorted a humorless laugh. “Believe me, you wouldn’t want to.”
“It wouldn’t fit, anyway,” Beth said as she stood and straightened her sweater—the same sweater that Jenner had pulled over her head and tossed into the corner of his apartment. At that particular thought, her throat turned to sand and she couldn’t find her tongue for a second.
Jenner turned his intense gaze on her again and she hazarded a quick glance at his face. What she saw there caught her breath, for the look he sent her was all male and sensuous, as if what had happened between them this afternoon was just a sample of what would happen, if she let it. She cleared her throat and said, “Well, since you didn’t take my advice and leave, I guess I could offer you something cold to drink.”
Cody, oblivious to the silent message between his mother and his new friend, said, “We ride horses?”
“Wh-what?” Beth said.
“Horses,” Cody repeated, his brows knitting in frustration. “Ride.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“Sure,” Jenner cut in. “How about tomorrow?”
“Jenner, it’s not a good idea. He’s too young.”
“I was riding by myself by the time I was three.”
“Yeah, but he’s only two and you’re certifiable, remember?”
“Come on, Beth. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” he asked, the mockery in his face undisguised.
She couldn’t answer. For the first time in a long while, Beth Crandall wasn’t sure what she wanted.
Chapter Nine
“I didn’t expect anything so soon,” Jenner said as Rex Stone slid a manila envelope across the polished mahogany top of his desk. They were seated in the private investigator’s office in Dawson City. His back to the only window, Rex was wedged into a tufted leather chair positioned behind the desk. Jenner was on the far side, in a smaller, less-imposing chair. He picked up the envelope and fingered the corners, feeling an unexpected ton of guilt settle squarely on his shoulders.
“It’s just preliminary. A little background on Ms. Crandall. I can dig deeper, but I thought we’d start here and you could tell me if you wanted more. Didn’t want to waste your money.”
Jenner doubted that. He was certain that Rex had no qualms whatsoever of spending anyone else’s cash. Nonetheless, he ripped open the envelope with his finger and slipped out the contents: copies of report cards from Rimrock High School, transcripts from Eastern Oregon College, several pictures of Beth as a student and later as she recieved her R.N. degree at the University of Oregon Nursing School. He also saw copies of her birth certificate, driver’s license, social security card and a resume of her employment record. But the document that fascinated him most was Cody Crandall’s birth certificate. Beth’s name was listed in full, but the space for his father’s name was blank, as if the man had never existed.
Jenner’s fist closed over the papers. He felt like a goddamned Peeping Tom, peering into Beth’s private life behind her back. He might as well be standing on the dark side of a window, peering through the blinds, watching her undress.
“The thing that I found interesting,” Rex said as he picked up a letter opener and began cleaning his thumbnail, “is that the blood type fits. The kid could be your son. But unless you want to go through all that DNA garbage, you only have her word.” He flicked off a bit of smut that he’d dislodged from his nail. “So...what do you want me to do? I also did a little checking to see if she was involved with any man three years ago, just in case there was an obvious boyfriend that we could pin the kid’s paternity on. No such luck.”