Truly Married

by Phyllis Halldorson

  She squared her shoulders and moved them back and forth in an effort to loosen her own aching muscles, then stood and pulled the covers over Fergus’s exposed back. He looked so peaceful lying there. The lines of pain were gone from what she could see of his face, and he appeared younger and less harried.

  She suspected that he drove himself mercilessly in his profession, and she made a silent vow to try to ease the extra burden he’d assumed by taking on her defense. She’d stop wallowing in past hurts and start being more helpful.

  She tucked the sheet and blanket around him, as she’d have tucked in their child if they’d had one, then gave in to the insistent temptation to lean down and kiss him on his slightly bristly cheek. She caught the faint lingering fragrance of shaving lotion and felt a muscle quiver under her lips.

  Before she could pull away his hand came up and wrapped around her wrist. “Don’t leave,” he whispered.

  She brushed a lock of dark-brown hair back from his forehead with her other hand. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly against his ear.

  He caressed her palm with his thumb. “I mean stay with me. Sleep next to me on the bed. I won’t bother you.”

  Her heart raced at the very thought of sleeping in the same bed with him again, but that was out of the question.

  She opened her mouth to tell him so, but heard herself saying, instead, “All right, if that’s what you really want.”

  He hadn’t moved anything but his lips, and now they turned up in a small smile. “It is. More than anything.”

  Oh, what the hell, she thought. It was bound to happen sooner or later. At least tonight he feels too rotten to seduce me.

  She got up and turned off the lights, then climbed in on the other side of the bed and settled down, close to him, but not touching. It was then that she remembered the time shortly after they were married when he’d had the flu with a temperature of 101 degrees.

  The temperature had hovered up there for three days, but they hadn’t missed a night of making love!

  * * *

  Sharon was exhausted and fell asleep almost instantly, but sometime during the night she surfaced enough to be dimly aware that she was cradled in the circle of Fergus’s arms. Her back was against his chest, her derriere nestled in his groin and one of his legs captured between both of hers. It was as if the past five years of separation had never happened, and they were back in their apartment in Chicago sleeping as they always did, with their bodies entwined.

  Instinctively she snuggled closer, and his hand moved just enough to cup her breast. With a contented little sigh she sank back into the misty buoyancy of sleep.

  * * *

  Sharon awoke the next morning to the ringing of the telephone, but it wasn’t until the second ring that she was conscious enough to open her eyes. When she did she saw Fergus, fully dressed in gray slacks and a blue print shirt open at the throat, rushing to the desk to pick it up.

  “Lachlan,” he said in a low voice, apparently trying not to waken her. “Hi, what’s up? Did you get those affidavits...?”

  It was obviously someone from his law firm in Chicago, but did they have to bother him on Saturday?

  She knew the answer to that. It was a question she’d asked many times during their marriage. Trial lawyers seldom worked a neat forty-hour week. It was more like fifty or sixty.

  She missed part of his side of the conversation, but picked it up again when he raised his voice in indignation.

  “You mean now? Today? But I can’t leave here yet. The preliminary hearing’s coming up next week, and— Oh hell! I was afraid something like that would happen. Isn’t there anyone there who can handle it? Yeah, I know, it’s my responsibility. I’ll check the airline schedules and catch a flight later this afternoon.”

  Sharon’s stomach clenched into a ball of nausea. Fergus was leaving! He was going back to Chicago. But what about her? She needed him here!

  She sat up in bed and combed her disheveled hair back with her fingers as he finished his conversation.

  “She said what? Well, that’s tough. Tell her if she wants someone to hold her hand to get in touch with one of her rich johns. I’m not available.”

  Sharon’s eyes widened as he slammed down the phone. “Fergus, are you defending a hooker?” she asked.

  He whirled around, and his expression softened when he looked at her. “Sharon, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you....”

  He smiled. “Hookers are entitled to a defense the same as anyone else.” He walked over and sat down on the side of the bed.

  “Of course,” she agreed, “but I didn’t think they could afford you. Besides, aren’t they usually just brought in and fined, then released?”

  He chuckled. “Most of them can’t afford me, and are released, but this one services a very wealthy clientele and prefers to be known as a call girl. She probably has an income higher than mine, and she had the misfortune to, um, be there when her client dropped dead.”

  Sharon got the picture. “Oh, my God, really?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Yes, really. It happens now and then, but this time the man died of poisoning, and the district attorney thinks she administered it.”

  “Did she?” Sharon knew better than to ask that question, but it just slipped out.

  Fergus patted her leg through the covers. “I have no idea, but she’s entitled to a fair and impartial trial, and it’s my job to see that she gets one. Now, as you no doubt heard, I have to go back to Chicago this afternoon, so why don’t you get dressed while I make some more phone calls. Do you want to go down to the coffee shop for breakfast, or shall I order something sent up?”

  She didn’t always use the best judgment, but even she knew better than to stay in this room with Fergus when half of it was taken up with this queen-size bed that was warm and rumpled and inviting.

  “Let’s go to the coffee shop,” she said, and moved to slide across the mattress and get up. But Fergus stopped her by putting his hands on her shoulders.

  “Just a minute, love,” he said tenderly. “I want to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me last night.”

  A vision of them curled up together so intimately on the bed flashed through her mind, and she panicked. My God, she’d forgotten about that! She’d been so sound asleep both before and after that it hadn’t really registered.

  But what else hadn’t registered? Had they...? Had she...?

  She knew her expression must mirror her shock as she gaped at him. “What did I do?” Her tone was a mixture of gasp and howl. “Fergus, did we...?” She swallowed and couldn’t go on.

  For a moment he looked puzzled, and then he laughed. Not a polite chuckle, but a full belly laugh. “Sharon Sawyer Lachlan, are you implying that I made love to you and you don’t even remember it? Now I really am insulted!”

  He sounded more gleeful than insulted.

  “Well, did we?” she repeated impatiently.

  He made an effort to appear more serious, but couldn’t manage to bring it off. “No, my darling, we didn’t, but when I woke up this morning and found you snuggled so tantalizingly in my arms I can assure you I had one hell of a time convincing myself that I should put you aside and get out of there.”

  Relief flooded through her and left her limp. “Ohhh,” she said with a sigh as she released the breath she’d been holding. “I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply... That is, I was vaguely aware at one time during the night that we were...” She felt herself blush. “That we were cuddled up together, but you were asleep and I drifted off again right away—”

  He put his arms around her and drew her against him. “I understand, but it’s a good thing I didn’t discover it until I was wide-awake this morning. If I hadn’t been fully alert I’d never have been able to resist the temptation to seduce you.”

  He brushed her hairline with his lips and whispered. “If I had would you have responded?”

  She nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, but I would h
ave deeply regretted it afterward.”

  He rubbed her back gently. “That’s what I was afraid of.” There was no teasing in his tone now. “That’s why I forced myself to get up and take a cold shower this morning. When I make love to you again I want you wide-awake and as desperately in need of me as I am of you.”

  She had to bite her lip to keep from telling him she was feeling that way right now.

  Instead she raised her head and put her hand to his temple. “Is your headache gone?”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Oh yes. You really do have magic in those pretty hands. You relaxed me and took away the pain last night, and I dozed like a baby. That’s what I was thanking you for. That, and for sleeping with me.” He smiled. “I promise that’s all we did. I don’t know how you got in my arms, but it’s been a long time since I’ve rested so peacefully. I suspect it’s because I was finally holding you again.”

  She wanted to admit that she understood because it was the same way with her, but they were playing with fire by sitting there on the bed, talking about their mutual sexual attraction. She knew her self-control wasn’t up to it, and it was time to change both the setting and the subject.

  Giving him a quick hug, she broke away and scooted across the mattress. “I’d better get dressed or they’ll be serving lunch instead of breakfast by the time we get downstairs,” she said, and without looking back headed for the bathroom.

  * * *

  Forty minutes later, after Fergus had completed his business calls and Sharon had showered and dressed, they were seated at a table in the open gardenlike restaurant in the hotel lobby. Once the waiter had poured orange juice and coffee and taken their order, Sharon broached the subject Fergus had casually mentioned the day before, then dropped.

  “Fergus, yesterday you said you had a suggestion about how Anna and I can find a new tenant to replace Tracey. What did you have in mind?”

  He took a sip of his coffee and touched his lips with a napkin. “I’ll tell you, but I want you to listen and not interrupt until I’m finished. If you’re bound over for trial at the preliminary hearing I’ll be here in St. Louis off and on for weeks, maybe months. Obviously I’ll need permanent headquarters, somewhere to live and work. In that event I’d like to move into the room Tracey’s vacating and assume her share of the expenses.”

  Sharon felt her eyes widen, but she heeded Fergus’s edict and kept quiet.

  “There shouldn’t be any impropriety. After all, we’re all three adults, and you and I were once married. Also, you’ve been put in my custody by the court, so we can just argue that I’m taking my duties seriously by keeping an eye on you.”

  That got a reaction from her. “And would you be? Spying on me, I mean. Making sure I didn’t knife someone else?”

  Fergus frowned. “Don’t talk nonsense, Sharon,” he said icily. “That remark was uncalled for.”

  A wave of shame washed over her, and she looked away. “You’re right. It was,” she apologized. “You deserve a lot better than that from me. I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” he said grimly, “because it means that you still don’t trust me. You have a right to feel that I’ve failed you personally in the past, but no one has ever accused me of not giving the best possible defense to a client. Please, don’t let your dislike of me sabotage my ability to defend you.”

  Sharon gasped. “I don’t dislike you, Fergus.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not necessary for one to like one’s attorney in order to be well represented in court, but don’t impair my efforts to defend you. It’s been my experience that juries are usually pretty astute. If you throw barbs at me in the courtroom the way you do in private it could backfire and cause them to question either my competence or your innocence.”

  His words hit her like blows. Taking a deep breath, she sought his gaze with her own and hoped the tears that burned behind her eyes weren’t visible. “Fergus, I’m sorry if I’m coming across as an ungrateful shrew.” She heard the tremor in her voice. “Please believe me when I say I don’t dislike you. Actually, I like you very much. Maybe that’s the problem. It would be easier for me if I didn’t, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about being hurt again.”

  Fergus looked shocked. “I’m not going to hurt you, Sharon.”

  She clasped and unclasped her hands. “I know. You’ve been so kind, and so helpful. I...I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come to my rescue when Anna called you. If you hadn’t been there to get me out of that dreadful jail...”

  Her voice broke and she couldn’t go on.

  Fortunately the waiter chose that moment to bring their breakfast plates, giving her time to pull herself together while he put the food on the table and poured them more coffee.

  When he was finished and had left, Fergus picked up his fork and knife and started cutting his ham into pieces. “I’m not looking for gratitude. What I desperately need now is your faith in my ability and my integrity. I can understand why you have a problem with that, especially the integrity, but I can’t defend you without that commitment. If you don’t have complete confidence in me, then I have no choice but to help you find another attorney.”

  Coffee sloshed out of the cup Sharon had just picked up, and she set it back in the saucer with a bang. He couldn’t mean that! Such a suggestion was unthinkable. “No!” she blurted. “I don’t want another attorney. I want you. You’re the only person I do have faith in.”

  Fergus shrugged, apparently untouched by her obvious distress. “If that’s true, then you’d better start thinking of me as your defender, instead of as the bastard who broke up our marriage.”

  Sharon lowered her head and rubbed at her eyes with her fingers. “I’m sorry,” she said, for what must have been the hundredth time. “I don’t mean to be so...so querulous. I don’t seem to be able to help myself. The words just tumble out.”

  “I’m not blaming you.” His tone had softened. “I hurt you badly and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but you’ll have to at least appear to respect me when we go to court or...”

  He stroked his hands through his hair. “Maybe my sharing a home with you isn’t such a good idea after all. I can see that I’m getting on your nerves.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not you, Fergus. It’s the shock of what’s happening to me that keeps me so off balance. I promise to make more of an effort to control my tongue.”

  He shook his head. “This isn’t going to work if you have to make an effort to be civil to me. You’d be better off with a lawyer you like and trust.”

  Sharon felt the stirrings of panic. He was serious about getting someone else to represent her. “I’ll never agree to having someone else take over my defense!” she said emphatically. “I trust you enough to put my freedom, possibly my very life, in your hands. What more do you want?”

  He looked at her, and there was sadness in his expression. “I want you to forget about the past. I want you to love me again, or at least like me, but I’ll settle for an unarmed truce. Try to stop thinking of me as the enemy. Focus instead on the fact that I’m trying to keep you out of prison, but I can’t do it without your help.”

  She reached across the small table and covered his hand with hers. “I promise,” she said softly, “and I don’t think of you as the enemy. Quite the opposite. I find myself thinking of you as my knight in shining armor and it scares me. I guess that’s why I get so bitchy sometimes. I don’t want to think of you that way.”

  He turned his hand over and squeezed hers. “Don’t be afraid of me, Sharon.” His tone was low and husky. “I can stand almost anything but that.”

  Her love for him almost overwhelmed her. Had he any idea how much she wished she could believe him? She trusted him totally to prove her innocent of murder, but she could never again empower him with her unquestioning faith. She couldn’t help loving him, but neither could she let him close enough to break her heart again.

  Gently she pulled
her hand from his and picked up her fork. “Of course we’ll have to talk to Anna first, but I have no objection to your becoming our new housemate,” she said, changing the subject and getting back to the original one.

  * * *

  After Sharon and Fergus finished eating they drove out to the house and confronted Anna. Tracey had left, bag and baggage, just a short time before to move in with her parents until she could find another apartment.

  “She cried all morning,” Anna said somewhat impatiently, “from the time she got up until she drove off.”

  Sharon smiled sympathetically. “Tracey wants the whole world to love her, and now she thinks we hate her. There’s no half way with that young lady.”

  “Well, she’d better get over it,” Anna said. “Otherwise she’ll be an emotional wreck before she’s thirty. You’d have thought it was our fault she was leaving.”

  Fergus shook his head. “Don’t let her waterworks bother you. I can almost promise you she was enjoying every minute of it. I see a lot of people like her in my profession. She’s not only emotional, but also highly theatrical, and loves to milk every scene for all she can get.”

  He grinned. “Stop and think about it. She was the one who stirred up the hornet’s nest, but now that she’s gone she has you both feeling guilty. That type never takes the blame.”

  Anna shrugged. “I’m sure you’re right, but now the question is, where are we going to find another housemate?”

  Fergus and Sharon looked at each other, then Fergus took the initiative and told Anna his ideas on the subject.

  “You want to move in here with us?” Anna asked. “But is that, um, ethical? You’re Sharon’s attorney in a murder case.”

  Chapter Eight

  Since Anna had broached the subject of ethics, Fergus had no choice but to answer her honestly. “Sharing a home with my female client could be a gray area,” he admitted, “but I won’t be here all the time, and when I am you’ll be around to chaperon.”

  Anna’s eyes widened. “Me? I’m not going to chaperon anybody. You two are adults. If you want to make love it’s none of my business as long as you keep it reasonably private and I don’t have to step around you on the floor.”