Heartland

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Heartland Page 8

by Tricia Andersen


  Abbey couldn’t speak. She ripped the underwear from Violet’s grasp. Violet winked and then followed Sami and Dani out of the gallery, the three of them still laughing.

  Abbey hadn’t felt nauseated since the end of her first trimester. That suddenly changed at the sight of the silky scrap of material. She clamped her hand over her mouth as she ran for the bathroom. She barely made it to her knees in front of the toilet before she vomited. She fought tears as she heaved. Could she have taken them from the house? The door has been unlocked. Does she know where we live? I don’t think she does.

  It was several minutes before her stomach settled. Slumping back against the wall, she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and then wiped at her tears. I promised him the benefit of the doubt. I owe him that. How many times have I given him the benefit of the doubt now?

  She struggled to her feet and made her way back to the desk chair. Then she grabbed her cell from her pocket and dialed Sloan.

  It was picked up on the first ring. “Luv, I can’t talk now. I’m heading into a meeting with the contractor and the investors. I’ll call when I’m finished.”

  “Violet stopped by to return your boxers,” Abbey blurted out. She took a deep breath. “Why would Violet have a pair of your boxers?”

  “Violet has no reason to have a pair of my boxers, Abigail. You’re mistaken.”

  “They’re the ones I bought for you, Sloan.”

  “Are you accusing me of cheating on you?”

  “If the shoe fits. If you don’t believe me, check your security cameras here. You can see her hand them to me. It shouldn’t surprise you, though. I mean, she had them. And baby, they are yours.”

  Sloan’s voice was suddenly rough. “I don’t appreciate being accused. I have to go. I have to attend this meeting. Then I will call you, and we will talk. Understand?”

  “Sure. But I’d rather talk to you face to face. When should I expect the jet?”

  “You won’t. I’m coming home.”

  “I’ll see you when you get here.”

  There was a line of curses just before the line went dead. Abbey slumped against the back of the chair. He’s finally coming home. I just wish it was for other reasons than saving our marriage.

  »»•««

  Sloan grasped the doorknob in his hand and turned. He hadn't been home for over three months, except for the short hours of Abbey's ultrasound appointment. When he left, the neighborhood children were enjoying their final days of freedom before school started. Now the leaves littered the ground. The fields that lined the highway from the airport to Mount Vernon were nearly bare as they reached the final stages of harvest.

  Miami hadn't gone as smooth as he hoped. It was evident why the previous owners wanted free of the project. He had to rehire contractors. He had to sell the original plot of land and purchase a larger piece of property. Zoning contracts had to be filed twice. Multiple suppliers, from floor tiles to steel girders, had sent the wrong materials. And all Sloan had wanted the whole time was his wife.

  Even his trip home was a disaster. They hit one storm after another, grounding them more times than he could count. He had finally thrown in the towel and directed the pilot to land in New York City so he and Robert could sleep in familiar beds. Sleeping in the penthouse without Abbey had been frustrating. He couldn’t sleep without her by his side in that bed. He tried to call, hoping her voice would help him fall asleep. Even her cold, distant voice would help somewhat. But every time he called he got her voice mail.

  It was time to get to the bottom of this nonsense. Yes, he knew Abigail had a bad habit of creating drama. She certainly made life interesting. And her insecurities about him being unfaithful drove him crazy. What in the bloody hell made her conjure up such a lie? My boxers at Violet’s house? What a convoluted farce. When is she ever going to trust that she is the only woman in my world? When am I going to convince her that no other woman will ever take her place?

  He left Robert in New York City and made his way back to Iowa. But once again, it was a near miracle he arrived. Overnight, ice had formed on the wings of the aircraft. It was four hours before it safely melted away. Then, there had been two more unscheduled stops in the middle of nowhere before the wheels finally set down in Iowa. Des Moines, Iowa. Two hours from home.

  He rented a car to drive the rest of the way. After two days of sitting on his jet, the last thing he wanted to do was drive. However, at that point, he would have hitchhiked if it got him back to Abbey.

  Now he was home. And the first order of business was to get to the bottom of this nonsense about his boxers. Once that was finished, he would lock them both in their bedroom for the rest of the day. Maybe a week. They’d only come out to eat. We would need to replenish our strength after all.

  His smile faded when he walked in and found suitcases sitting beside the door. Abbey rose from her spot on the couch, her eyes wide at the sight of him. "Going somewhere?” he questioned.

  “Depends,” she answered.

  He dropped his luggage next to hers with a loud thud. “Abigail, I don’t know where you get this ridiculous notion that I had sex with Violet.”

  “Follow me.” She turned on her heel and stormed down the hallway to his office. He stayed behind her a few steps. She stopped in front of the computer sitting on the desk and began to type. “I took the liberty of contacting the security company to get the footage. Just so you know I’m not out of my mind. Here. Watch.”

  Sloan stood beside her as she hit the Enter button to play the video. He watched the images on the screen as Violet handed the emerald green cloth to Abigail. He let go a slow, steady breath as it ended.

  Her voice was small as she spoke. “Those are your boxers, right?”

  “Yes. I don’t know how she got them.”

  “If you left them after you slept with her…”

  “I didn’t sleep with her!” he roared. He met her wide-eyed glare. He took a deep breath and continued. “Give me time. I promise I will get to the bottom of this.”

  She stared quietly at him. She eyes darted toward the door and then back to him. He took her hands in his, not missing her instinctively pull away. “Luv, please don’t go. Give me a chance to prove my innocence.”

  It was another long moment before she said anything. “Benefit of the doubt. Fine. I’ll stay.”

  “Where are the boxers?”

  She pulled open the side drawer of his desk. Crumpled up inside was a ball of green silk. Without another word, she slipped from the office, leaving him alone. He dropped into his chair as he stared at the computer screen. Yep. I'm glad to be home.

  »»•««

  Abbey curled up in her oak rocking chair under the patchwork quilt she had stolen from the penthouse in New York City. She had retreated to her bedroom hours ago, fuming at her husband's lack of concern. For the past two days he got up in the morning and went to the gallery. Every evening he came home, ate dinner, and then settled on the couch to watch television. Every few moments, he would touch her tenderly. But as far as proving his innocence? He hadn’t done a thing.

  Sighing, she stared out the window, watching the cold, late autumn rain drizzle down the pane. It reminded her of the countless hours she had spent sitting on her broken little bed looking out the window of her tiny, decaying apartment in Brownsville. She glanced around her bedroom. Yep. This room is bigger than my whole apartment there.

  New York was at least bearable. It was a fantasy. Her rivals were cutouts from fashion magazines. She lived in a multimillion-dollar luxury penthouse. She rode in a Hummer with chrome trim and tinted windows. She ate at the finest restaurants. She wore the best clothes. And she waited for the moment she would wake up from such a delicious dream.

  But here in Mount Vernon? This was reality. She had grown up here. She was labeled the hippie librarian's daughter here. The women claiming indiscretions with her husband were the same who bullied her, made her feel transparent and worthless. There was no way possib
le she could win here.

  Abbey felt a rumble of hunger roll through her stomach. Her unborn child kicked in response. A chirp from her cell phone alerted her of an arriving text. She tossed the blanket on the floor, crossed the room to the bed, and scooped her cell off the mattress.

  Dinner. 7:00. The restaurant across from the gallery.

  Her fingers started to type a response. There was plenty of food downstairs, and she didn’t want everyone in town to witness their silent battle of wills. Before she could hit Send, another message popped up on the screen.

  Non-negotiable.

  She dropped the phone into the pocket of her sweatshirt. “Fine. Benefit of the doubt,” she mumbled. Slowly she descended the stairs and found her coat draped over a kitchen chair. Flipping her hood over her head, she locked the door behind her and shut it. Descending the porch steps, she hurried along the damp sidewalks toward downtown.

  »»•««

  Abbey stepped out of the chilly, wet late Iowa autumn evening and into the warm, welcoming restaurant. Even though it was past the dinner hour at the cafe, there was hardly a table or booth open. The waitress met her at the door. “It’ll be a bit, sweetie.”

  “I’m supposed to meet someone here,” Abbey protested.

  “I do have a fella waiting for someone. Handsome devil.” The waitress pointed to a booth in the far corner. Sloan leaned back against the seat. His eyes locked on Abbey. “Is that who you’re looking for?”

  “Yep.” Abbey gave her a smile and then slowly weaved her way past the tables to the booth. She settled into the booth seat, wrapping her coat tightly around her like a security blanket. She refused to look at Sloan seated across from her. Instead, she glanced around the crowded dining room at the townspeople watching Sloan with great interest and Abbey with great disdain. She exhaled slowly. Great. Public humiliation. As quickly as rumors spread in this town, they all probably know about him and Violet.

  “Abigail, let me take your coat for you,” Sloan offered.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “You’ll get too warm.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Why can’t you cooperate with me? Just a little?”

  She didn’t answer. She stayed quiet, pretending she was studying her menu. She heard him curse beneath his breath.

  Suddenly, she looked up as a chorus of giggles journeyed to their table. Dani, Sami, and Violet collided with each other as they stopped at the booth. Dani caressed Sloan’s black wavy hair. By the way they acted and the heavy scent of alcohol, it was evident the three women were already drunk.

  “Hey, Sloan,” Dani cooed. “Whatcha doing tonight?”

  Sloan pulled Dani’s hand from his hair. “Having dinner. But I’m glad you’re here to join us.”

  Abbey gaped at Sloan silently. He flashed a sly grin at her before he continued. “It seems you were in possession of something that belongs to me, Violet.”

  Violet dropped into the booth next to Abbey. She reached across the table and took Sloan’s hands in hers. “Shouldn’t we talk about this somewhere private, lover? Like my place?”

  “Here is fine. And I’m not your lover. I have to admit, for a moment it puzzled me how you got my underwear. But there is something that even my beautiful wife doesn’t know. When the security cameras were installed in my gallery, I had a couple set up at my house too. Do you know what I discovered? You and your friends breaking into my house more than once. And one time you left with my boxers. The very same pair you handed Abbey in the gallery. I didn’t realize Sami worked for my security company. Lass, I’d suggest you’d look for a new job, but I think that’s the last of your worries.”

  Abbey watched as Violet’s face grew pale. Guess she wasn’t as drunk as I thought.

  “Sloan…I…” Violet stammered.

  “Had it been mischief, I might let it slide. But your reasoning for this was pure evil. You have been merciless to Abigail, and others in this town, for too long. I contacted the sheriff already. Seems there has been a rash of burglaries around here lately. They all have the same security company as we do. He would have joined us for dinner, but he’s getting warrants prepared to search your apartments. Thank you for stopping by, but I’d like to finish my supper with my wife.”

  The whole restaurant was silent. The three women glanced back and forth at each other. Several pairs of eyes were trained on them, the rage evident in each face. Despite the three inch heels, they nearly ran from the room. Abbey watched them go, stunned.

  “I told you that I would get to the bottom of it.”

  Abbey spun back toward him. He stared at her, his face motionless. It took a moment for her to find her voice. “You’re right. I should have believed you. I’m sorry.”

  His face was stone. Suddenly it melted into a smile. “It’s all right, luv. I would have done the same thing in your shoes. You need to remember how much I love you. You are my life, my breath, my salvation. And you are carrying something I never thought I would ever have, something I treasure more than my own life. My daughter.” He winked. “Do you want to sit over there? Or over here with me?”

  Abbey slid out of the booth and then slipped in beside him. An overwhelmingly warm feeling of love filled her. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to be over here cuddled up to you.”

  Sloan’s mouth twisted in a sweet, sensual grin. “I would like that very much.” He reached around her to help her shrug off her jacket. Before he pulled away, she caught his face in her hands.

  “Sloan, I am so, so sorry. Really, I am,” she whispered. “I’m such an ass.”

  He caressed her hand with his. “I know, luv. All is forgiven.”

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you more.”

  Sloan’s scene with the terrible trio left quite the impression with everyone at the cafe. Sloan and Abbey hardly ordered before patron after patron stopped by their table to offer their well wishes to the couple. She cuddled close to him, immersing herself in his warmth and strength as she beamed to each neighbor who asked her due date or how she was feeling. Sloan possessively stretched his arm across the back of the booth, ever the proud papa.

  It all became clear to her. She had spent the entirety of her school years living in fear of Dani, Sami, and Violet, and their clique. She never truly saw the rest of her neighbors in Mount Vernon. They were good people, kind and generous. They took care of each other whether new neighbor or a lifelong resident. That was why they all fell in love with Sloan. He was just like them. He was the missing puzzle piece of a beautiful picture.

  At the end of the meal when Sloan asked for the bill, the waitress smiled warmly. She told him that a sweet elderly couple had paid their tab. It was an early baby gift for the expecting couple. Abbey saw the flicker in Sloan’s eyes. He was truly touched by the gesture.

  The rain had stopped, and the clouds cleared from the sky. The thousands of stars made their walk home magical. Abbey’s little fingers were intertwined with her husband’s large strong ones. They talked and laughed as they walked along.

  “Again, I’m sorry I overreacted,” she apologized. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

  Sloan stopped, his eyes searching her face for a moment. He pressed a long, gentle kiss against her lips. “I would defend you with my dying breath.”

  She sighed as he pressed another kiss to her lips. He wrapped a secure arm around hers as they continued home.

  »»•««

  Abbey wiped her hands on a rag as she inspected her work. It was swapping day at the gallery. Sloan did the heavy lifting, switching the paintings on the walls for new ones that had been in storage. Abbey took advantage of this, dusting and polishing the frames, windowsills, and the stair rail that led to the storage rooms on the second floor. She cleaned the glass windows until they were crystal clear. Before she could lift the floor mats to shake outside, Sloan intervened. He gave her strict orders to sit and then took them from her. Abbey stared through the window as he lif
ted and beat out each mat, her eyes glued to his muscular arms, his broad back, and finally his butt. She fanned herself. Wow, I can’t wait until these hormones are under control. Once the mats were finished, he laid them back out on the floors. By the grin on his lips, she could tell he knew what she was thinking. She hopped to her feet and went back to dusting.

  Before Abbey could pass her own judgment, she heard the thud of a frame against the planks of the wood floor.

  "Abigail, luv. This place looks magnificent. You have outdone yourself," Sloan breathed, clearly amazed.

  "Thank you."

  Sloan leaned the painting against the staircase and then crossed the gallery to her. He pulled her into his arms, nuzzling his lips against her neck. She shuddered as she felt Sloan's palm embrace her rounded belly.

  Abbey loved how protective, how possessive he had become since he learned she was pregnant. Becoming a father brought a new life to him. Having a child was a dream Sloan never dared to have. He was told growing up in the Irish Republican Army to abandon the idea of a wife and child. Since he was accused of being one of the most notorious bombers in Belfast, a family could be used as collateral against him.

  Yet here she stood, Sloan O'Riley's bride, carrying his baby. He told her more times than she could count that seeing her pregnant made him feel powerful, made him feel complete. Seeing her pregnant turned him on.

  "Sloan, we could get a customer at any time," Abbey groaned, silently chiding herself for encouraging him to stop. The ache burning deep inside her really didn't want that.

  "Aye, lass. I know." Sloan slowly exhaled as he attempted to regain his composure. He parted her lips with his, his deep, devouring kiss not calming her one bit. "Tonight, though, I'm not stopping."

  He slowly let her go and went back to the painting. Abbey took several deep breaths to calm her trembling nerves. Then, she turned as she heard the jingle of the bell hanging from the front door. Two men stepped inside from the chill of the autumn day. They were dressed in matching navy blue jackets, navy blue pants, and large boots. Each of the men’s jackets were embroidered with the emblem of the Mount Vernon Fire Department.

 

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