“You know damn well I did,” the young man huffed. “Ellie won’t deny that.”
“No,” Win answered mildly. “I don’t think she will, although I’m sure she regrets the fact.”
“If she’d told me she was having my child, I’d have married her right off the bat,” Tommy blustered.
“Really?” Win drew out the single word in a disbelieving tone, and then his glance sharpened and touched on Marie Jamison. “Why did you move from here so quickly, Mrs. Jamison?”
“There was an opportunity for my husband in Philadelphia,” she announced, as if the words had been part of a script. “An opening in the family business was offered and he accepted the position.” Her eyes darted from Win to Tommy, her eyes flashing a warning to the younger man.
“And, now,” Win began slowly, “why did you come back here?”
Mrs. Jamison lifted her chin in an imperious manner. “Tommy realized he’d made a mistake in not marrying the girl. He persuaded me to come with him, to make the trip as a chaperon for Miss Mitchum on the return trip.”
Something was not on the up-and-up, and beyond the fact that both his visitors were telling tall tales, Win was certain some ulterior motive drove them to their actions. The slamming of the back screen door reached his ears, and he ignored the sound.
Not so the woman before him.
“Is that the girl?” she asked, shooting a silent command in Tommy’s direction.
“Don’t move,” Win commanded, his steps long as he blocked the doorway. Tommy stood hesitantly in the center of the office, peering back at his mother as if awaiting instructions. “That girl,” Win said, “is my wife. She has a name. I believe you’ve labeled her as that girl half a dozen times in the past fifteen minutes. And that,” he said firmly, “is an insult to the woman I married.”
“I want to see her,” Tommy said, stalking across the room to stand before Win. He had to look up a considerable distance, and his brow furrowed. “You can’t stop me from talking to Ellie.”
“How old are you, son?” Win asked, a sense of pity overcoming his growing anger. The boy didn’t stand a chance, but it was obvious he was wriggling on the end of strings, and his mother held the controls.
“Thomas’s age has nothing to do with this,” Mrs. Jamison said coldly. “He has the right to speak to the…” Her pause was significant. “To Eleanor,” she said, obviously recalling Win’s accusation.
Win shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice deepening as he surveyed the woman. “He has no rights at all. This is my office and my home. You are both trespassing on private property.”
“Win?” From the back of the house, Ellie’s spoke his name, and he clenched his jaw.
“That’s her now,” Tommy said, his cheeks again flushing with emotion as he pressed closer to Win. “Ellie?” He called her name loudly, and from the back of the house there was only the echo of his voice to be heard.
Win clamped one hand in Tommy’s shirt and lifted the youth to his toes. His words snarled past bared teeth, and he knew an anger such as had never possessed him in his life. “Listen to me, boy, and listen well. You walk out that front door and you keep your…” He hesitated, unwilling to speak the words that begged utterance.
With exaggerated civility, he lowered Tommy to the floor, and brushed one hand over the front of his shirt. “Take your mother and leave. I won’t tell you again.”
His jaw clenched tightly as Win backed from the office and pointed toward the paneled entrance door. Through its glass panes, the sun shone and the last leaves of autumn fluttered past, blowing on the wind that promised a wintery blast before morning. A facsimile of that chill breeze touched Win’s spine, and he was frozen by the fear that clutched at his heart.
Tommy and his mother walked from the office, across the hallway and out the door, and still Win stood poised in the center of the wide corridor. What if…? He could not bear to consider the thought of Ellie turning from him to the man who had fathered her babe. And yet—
“Win?”
He turned to face her, and his heart melted. Fear etched her features, leaching the joy from her eyes, turning her cheeks pale, and she fought tears, rubbing one fist against her mouth. He held open his arms, and then was struck by the fear of rejection. It wasn’t fair to her, he realized, not to allow her the choice. And so, his hands dropped, sliding into his trouser pockets, and he watched as she stepped toward him, then halted.
“That was Mrs. Jamison, wasn’t it?”
His answer was stark. “Yes.”
“What did she want after all this time?”
“You.” He watched, noting the pinched expression she wore. “Tommy was with her,” he said. “Didn’t you see him?”
She shook her head. “No, I came out of the kitchen as she stepped through the door, onto the porch. I thought I heard voices, heard someone call for me…” Her words trailed off and her eyes were wary.
“They came to bring you an offer, Ellie.”
“An offer?” She looked puzzled. “What sort of offer?”
“Tommy came here to see you. He wants to marry you and take you back East to Philadelphia with him. Introduce you to society.” The final word was spoken as if it were distasteful in his mouth.
“Society?” She repeated the word. “I can’t seem to think straight, Win. What are you talking about? I’m married to you.”
Her hand curved against the rounding of her pregnancy as she took one step toward him, and then she faltered, her eyes enormous. “I don’t—” She swayed and he realized with a jolt that she was on the verge of collapse.
Two long steps took him within touching distance, and he caught her as she fell, watched as her eyes rolled back, and her breath left her lungs in a soft sigh. She was slim, but solid, and he lifted her carefully, shifting her in his arms, angling her through the doorway into the kitchen.
Easing onto a chair, he held her limp form against himself, whispering her name. “Ellie.” He bent his head, brushing his mouth across her forehead, his lips touching the dewy perspiration dampening her cold brow.
At the back door a knock sounded, James called Win’s name, as he opened the door. “What’s going on?” he asked. “I thought I—” And then, as he caught sight of the scene before him, he pulled the door open and stepped inside. “Is she all right?” He moved closer and bent low over Ellie’s still form. “What’s wrong with her, Win?”
“She’s had a shock. Can you dampen a towel for me?”
“Yeah, sure,” James said, moving quickly to do as he was bid. “Why don’t you take her on into your bedroom or the parlor? I’ll be right behind you.”
Win stood, lifting Ellie carefully, and walked through the dining room, turning to his bedroom. He placed her atop the quilt, tugging a pillow beneath her head.
“Here you go,” James said, offering the towel. “Is there trouble?” he asked, his attention on Ellie’s face.
“I’d say so,” Win told him. “Mrs. Jamison showed up here, with young Tommy in tow. It seems the boy had a change of mind, and decided he wants to be a father after all.”
“What did Ellie say to that?” James asked carefully, his tone level, as if he withheld judgment.
“I didn’t give them a chance to talk to her.” Win sat by her side, wiping her forehead, brushing her hair back from the clean line of her brow. “Maybe it wasn’t fair of me not to let her listen to what they had to say.”
“Don’t be a damn fool,” James said bluntly. “That boy walked out and left her holding the bag. She’d have been up the creek without a paddle if you hadn’t stepped in.”
“Yeah. But he’s back.” He turned to look up at James. “She must have cared for him once. And now I’ve settled it without her making a choice. Do I have the right to make that decision for her?”
“I can’t answer that,” James said. “I think the bigger question is, how do you feel about the whole thing?”
Ellie’s head swam with voices, and she struggled to ca
ll out, her words captured in her throat. Her fingers refused to obey her will, as did her eyes as she tried to open them. Stirring, she shifted her head, wincing against the sunlight streaming through the window.
James was there. She knew his voice, heard a harsh note in the words he spoke, and held her breath as his query vibrated through her mind. “How do you feel about the whole thing?”
Beside her, the mattress sagged and she sensed the nearness of a warm body, the touch of a hand against her face. And then Win spoke.
“I won’t stand in her way. It has to be what Ellie wants.”
She sucked in a breath. If those were the words of a man smitten to the core with his bride, she’d eat her hat. Her eyes fluttered, then opened, and she met Win’s gaze.
“I think I’d like a drink of water, please,” she whispered.
He nodded, rising at once. “I’ll be right back, Ellie.” With a look in James’s direction, Win walked from the room.
“I’d send Kate over,” James said, “but I’ve just taken the baby in for her to nurse.”
“She doesn’t need to be coming here, James,” Ellie told him. “She’s due at the school before long.”
“I’ll leave you in Doc’s hands then,” he said. Offering a grin and a two-fingered salute as he backed from the room. “Take care, you hear?”
She nodded, and frowned, trying to organize her thoughts. The voices had been strident, catching her attention as she left the clothes basket inside the back door. Like a bad dream, she’d caught the sound of Tommy’s voice, that petulant sound he’d affected more than once when things weren’t going as he pleased.
The dim light in the kitchen had caught her off guard after the bright sunshine in the yard, and she’d felt a wave of dizziness sweep through her. Opening the kitchen door into the long hallway, she’d called for Win, needing his presence, her heart racing as if some great calamity were hovering overhead.
And then she’d faltered, ears buzzing, eyes blurring as again her name was spoken. The sight of billowing skirts and a woman flouncing out the door had confused her, as had Win’s face as he turned to her.
What had he said? Mrs. Jamison came to make her an offer? Was that it? And Tommy? He’d been there, too?
She closed her eyes, recalling Win’s words, his answer to James. “I won’t stand in her way.”
Perhaps Win would be relieved if she left, taking the burden of another man’s child with her. And yet, he’d been so— What was the right word? she wondered, remembering the nights since he’d taken her to his bed, claiming her body with tenderness, his arms holding her throughout the night hours.
It was his right, she knew that. He’d married her, and so had the right, by law, to lay claim to her person. And why shouldn’t he?
“Ellie?” Win stood by the bed, and she lifted weary eyelids to focus on his face. He bent to sit beside her again. “Here, honey. Drink some water. You look like you’ve been run over by a horse and wagon.”
“Well, that’s flattering,” she managed to whisper. She sat up unsteadily and reached for the water glass, her hands trembling. Win helped her, one hand on her back, the other offering the cold water, his hand covering hers as she drank.
She lay back on the pillow, shaking her head in refusal as he would have offered more. Closing her eyes, she felt weariness sweep through her. Win’s hands loosened her shoes and drew them from her feet, then returned to strip her stockings from her legs. He lifted a quilt from the rack in the corner and covered her, and she was grateful for the weight of it.
He brought her a tray, and she roused from a restless slumber, her eyes heavy. A lamp on the dresser illuminated the room, and she watched as Win placed the tray on the night table beside her. Fluffing the pillows, he stacked them behind her, lifting her to sit against the headboard.
“I want you to try some of this soup. It’s what we had for supper last night, and there’s enough of it to warm you up.” He’d spread butter on a piece of bread from this morning’s baking, and cut it in small pieces. A cup of pale tea completed his offering and she nodded her thanks.
“I appreciate this,” she told him, feeling a strange distance from him, even though he was only inches from her side.
“Do you need me to help you?” he asked softly, and she shook her head, looking up at him with a shaky smile.
His eyes were dark with worry and she sought a way to relieve his concern. “I don’t want to be a burden on you, Win. You do too much for me.”
“You’re my wife, Ellie.”
It was a simple statement, one she might have taken at face value a day or so ago. Tonight it seemed only to be a reason for his kindness, and she needed more than kindness from this man.
He’d loved her body, and loved it well, teaching her how to please him and bringing her untold pleasure with each encounter on this wide mattress. And yet, there had been no words of love, only whispers of admiration for her face and form. She’d held back her own avowal of that deep emotion, fearing to place the burden of her need on his already overloaded shoulders.
Winston Gray carried the weight of the well-being of untold numbers of townsfolk and ranchers. He was the only doctor within a hundred miles, and over the past weeks, she’d seen his practice grow and almost double as his reputation spread across the territory surrounding Whitehorn.
If she could help make his life more pleasant, she would do it. If taking his ease with her body pleased him, she would gladly be available to him for the comfort only a woman could give.
But if he was tiring of her, wearying of the responsibility of a wife, with a baby on the way, she would not impose on his kindness. Going with Tommy and his miserable excuse for a mother was not an option. Her flesh crawled when she remembered those grasping hands and the greedy fashion in which Tommy had misused her.
There would be another way. And in the meantime, if Win… She could not bear to think of it. The bread was without flavor, the soup choked her, and she pushed the tray aside.
“I can’t eat any more,” she told him, apologetic as she realized the trouble he’d gone to for her benefit.
“I’ll leave the tea, Ellie. Try to drink some, will you?” He bent to take the tray and she nodded, then watched as he left the room.
He was a handsome man, tall and strong, his shoulders wide, his hands gentle.
And she loved him. With all her heart, she yearned for him, and tears slid from her eyes, blurring her vision as she turned away and buried her face in the pillow.
Win held her throughout the night, an undemanding, loose embrace, his arm across her waist, careful not to brush against the fullness of her breast, as had been his wont on other nights. The morning light awoke Ellie, and she found him gone, the house silent. Stumbling to the kitchen, she found a note on the table.
He’d been called away. Would Ellie please watch for patients during the morning hours and explain that he might be gone until late afternoon? And then his name, the letters firm and masculine, scrawled across the bottom of the paper.
She made a cup of tea, forgoing the coffee he’d left on the back of the stove. A piece of bread made up her breakfast, and she sat at the table, wrapped in Win’s paisley-cloth dressing gown, her hair tangled around her shoulders and down her back.
A sound at the back door caught her attention and she rose to answer the knock. Tess waited on the stoop, her eyes anxious, and she scanned Ellie from top to bottom as she stepped inside the kitchen.
“Win asked me to stop by and check on you,” she said. “He had to go clear past Matt Darby’s place to tend a family that’s laid low with whooping cough. A neighbor came by to fetch him early this morning. One little fella died last night, and the rest of them are in bad shape.”
Ellie felt a shaft of shame pierce her. She’d been feeling a bit neglected, what with Win’s not being here, and it was about time she realized that there were others more needy than she. “I didn’t know where he’d gone, Tess. He left me a note, and I just got up a w
hile ago.”
“That old biddy, Marie Jamison, was in the mercantile first thing this morning, asking around about you and Doc,” Tess told her. “She wanted to know just how long you’d been married, and was trying to discover if you were living as man and wife. As if it was any of her business.”
“What did you tell her?” Ellie asked, lifting her cup of tea to sip at the lukewarm brew. She wrinkled her nose at the taste and settled the cup back on the table.
Tess watched, her eyes alert to Ellie’s mood, it seemed, for she rose and snatched the tea, dumping it into the slop bucket. “You need a fresh cup, girl. Let me fix it for you.” Her quick energy made Ellie wince, and she offered no protest as Tess found the tea cannister and filled the dainty teapot with hot water. Wrapping it in a heavy towel, she brought it back to the table, then sat with a sigh.
“You need one of those tea cozies. I’ll have to get a couple for the store next time I place an order. Keeps your tea nice and hot till it’s brewed.” She bent forward to look into Ellie’s eyes. “You look kinda peaked. Doc said you’d been upset yesterday, what with those two coming here and causing a ruckus.”
“What did you tell Mrs. Jamison?” Ellie repeated her question, sensing that Tess was putting her off.
“I told her it was none of her business, but that Doc was looking mighty happy these days.”
“Why would she want to know that, anyway?” Ellie moved her cup, daubing at a puddle of tea on the table with the edge of the towel. Looking into Tess’s eyes was not an option. The fine flush of embarrassment was climbing her cheeks, and the thought of someone speaking so casually about her intimacies with Win was not to be believed.
“I suspect she figured if Win hadn’t consummated the marriage, they could arrange for an annulment, and haul you off to Philadelphia with them.”
“I’d think I’d have something to say about that,” Ellie said quietly. “I’m not interested in spending a moment with Tommy, let alone my whole life.”
“Maybe that’s what you need to tell them, then.” Tess reached to pour tea into Ellie’s cup, and they both watched the golden liquid, waiting until the leaves settled in the bottom of the cup. “If I had second sight, I could tell your fortune, Ellie,” Tess teased gently. “And if I had second sight, I’d never have gotten tangled up with Tommy,” Ellie retorted. “Right now, I just wish Win had never put himself into this mess. It isn’t fair to him to be burdened with a wife and child he never planned on.”
A Convenient Wife Page 11