“I’m sorry. I never knew.”
“We never talked about having a family before we got married. I loved her—really loved her. Everyone thought, because she was so much younger than me, that all she was after was my money. But that’s not true. She loved me.” He stared at the darkening horizon as if he might find the answer to some vast wondrous plan if he studied it long enough.
His attention still fixed in the distance, he continued, “When she didn’t get pregnant, we started seeing doctors and going to clinics. Whatever Theresa wanted to try to make it happen. After a while, it was like an addiction. She grew more and more upset. She didn’t outright blame me, but I could tell she was becoming resentful. Nothing I did or said seemed to have an effect on her. She wanted to get pregnant and she was willing to do it any way she could.”
“Well, I guess she found a lot of eager volunteers.”
Rocky stared across the expanse of his ranch again. “I talked to some of the hands. Most of them didn’t want to have sex with her. Theresa threatened to fire them if they didn’t do what she wanted.”
“What?” Ketra nearly exploded from Rocky’s revelation. “She threatened them to have sex with her?”
Rocky raised a hand to quiet her. “My point is, things aren’t always what they seem. I never told anyone because my pride had taken a huge blow. I couldn’t give my wife a baby. I wasn’t man enough to do that.”
“Oh, Uncle Rocky.” Ketra crawled up to him and flung her arms around his waist. “How can you think that?”
“It’s a male pride thing.” He draped one arm around her. “That’s the only way I can describe it. It’s not something I want to admit. Makes me look weak. Incomplete. I need to be a whole man, strong enough to command this ranch.”
She slanted her head. “That’s just stupid talking, right there.”
“Not to me.”
She sat cross-legged, facing him. “Does Mom know?”
“No. You’re the only one. I want you to try to understand what Trevor’s going through. It’s not the divorce. It’s the feelings of inadequacy, self-doubt, all of that psychological stuff.”
“He told me about the thing in Phoenix. That wasn’t his fault.”
“Maybe. His marital problems had a huge impact on him for a while. His boss thinks he wasn’t at the top of his game that day. Maybe that’s why he shot that cop before thinking it through. It’s rumored that he was acting crazy when his marriage fell apart. Maybe he shouldn’t have been in the field that day.”
“Someone shot his partner. What was he supposed to do?”
“You’re defending him.” He smiled. “That’s nice. I thought for sure you’d want to kill him.”
“I did. But I guess I’ll give him a chance to explain. It had better be a really good explanation though.”
“That’s my girl.”
He clasped her hand and linked his fingers with hers.
“How long’s he been a cop?” She plucked at the grass with her free hand, trying not to sound too interested.
“Oh, I don’t know, let me see…he came back from college right around the time Theresa and I started having problems. He went to some training academy for a year or two. I can’t remember where. Then he got a job down in…Tucson I think. If my memory serves me right. He was gonna join Border Patrol, but he didn’t want to be that far away from his ranch.”
She unlinked her hand from his and straightened her legs. “He has a ranch?”
“A big spread in Sedona. When he turned twenty-five, his folks deeded over to him about five hundred acres from their place.”
Ketra whistled her surprise.
“Yeah. It’s a nice piece of property. He grew up on a ranch. Like you, he was in a saddle before he could walk. He’s a fine horseman.”
“So, if my mom had married his dad…?”
“Well she didn’t and that’s a good thing or we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
Ketra sat in contemplation for a minute. “Who’s taking care of his ranch while he’s here?”
“I don’t know. I imagine his dad checks in. Or maybe Heather’s still there. That might be one of the reasons he had to come out here instead of going home.”
“Heather?”
“His…the woman he married.” He rose and replaced his hat. “I don’t know the details of his divorce. Go talk to him, Kettie. Ask him all the stuff you’re asking me. It’s better if it comes from the horse’s mouth anyway.”
“You mean the jackass’s mouth?”
“Rain’ll be here in about five minutes, I expect. Best get back.” He untied his horse.
“He’d better have one hell of an explanation.”
“Give him a chance. And remember, he’s hurting too, just like you.” He swung into the saddle while Ketra coaxed Lucifer to her side. “You wanna ride back with me?”
“No. I’ll ride Luce, but he won’t come while you’re here. You know he hates men.”
“I guess that’s why you and he get along so well. Whistle if you change your mind. I’ll ride slow.”
As soon as Rocky left, Lucifer trotted to Ketra’s side and pushed his nose into her shoulder.
“Stop it, you big bully.” She rubbed his forehead for a few minutes. “I guess I’d better go hear his stupid story, huh? And I should probably tell him about us, too.” She sighed and grabbed a fistful of mane to assist in mounting. “It was fun while it lasted.”
When fat raindrops plopped onto them, she urged the horse to a canter. Cold and wet, she slid off Lucifer’s back and led him to a vacant stall at the opposite end of her corridor of barrel horses. “You behave yourself in here tonight, okay? After the vet sees you tomorrow, you can go back outside.” He pawed at the ground and snorted but settled down when she filled a plastic pan with grain and added water to the empty bucket in the corner of the stall.
Hooves clattered to her left. In the center of the barn, Trevor dismounted the buckskin mare. He drew the reins through a metal ring in the wall and launched into a tirade.
“You scared the shit out of me.” He planted his hands on his narrow hips, lips pinched, brows furrowed. His feet were set far enough apart that he could move in any direction should she decide to bolt. “I ought to throw you across my knee and whoop your ass.”
“What for?”
“What for?” For charging out of here hell bent on killing yourself on that crazy stallion.”
“First of all,” she tilted her head up to meet his angry eyes. “I was not hell bent on killing myself. Second, Lucifer is not crazy.”
“Your sister was worried.”
“Bullshit. Kennedy knows better than to worry about me on a horse.”
He narrowed the space between them. “You reacted poorly to an erroneous assumption.”
“Well, excuse the hell out of me. Some woman drives up here stating bold as brass that she’s your wife and you don’t correct her? What am I supposed to think?”
Rocky meandered down the corridor toward the center of the barn, whistling as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He spared a quick glance at the bickering couple then unhitched Trevor’s horse and led her back the way he’d come.
Trevor grabbed Ketra’s arm and lowered his voice. “I am not going to talk about this out here. You can either come with me quietly to my house, or I can throw you over my shoulder and I’ll haul you there. You decide.”
Suspecting he might make good on his threat, she took a step away. She tossed her damp hair behind her shoulders. “I’m wet and I’m cold. I’ll change my clothes. Then we can talk. But you’d better have a damn good story.”
“Oh, it’s a blockbuster.”
“Great. Can’t wait to hear it.”
Squaring her shoulders, she walked toward her house. He fell into step beside her.
She stopped a few steps shy of
her front porch. He halted next to her. “What are you doing?”
“We can talk at your place, just as easy as mine.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you afraid I’m not going to show up?”
“Something like that.”
She rolled her eyes and pulled the key from her front pocket. When she opened the door, he followed her over the threshold but waited for an invitation to sit down.
“I need a few minutes.” She adjusted the thermostat on her way to the bedroom.
Trevor busied himself making a fire while she changed out of her wet clothes. She grabbed the first dry clothes she found, a light blue sweat suit, and returned to the living room. He’d removed his boots and set them near the hearth to dry. His long-sleeved flannel shirt hung on the back of a chair that he had pulled close to the fireplace.
Firelight reflected off his smoky gray gaze. She let her eyes wander across his naked chest and lower to his wet jeans, clinging against muscular thighs. Her throat constricted when she swallowed. She wanted to hear his story. Didn’t she? His nearness encumbered her ability to think. Right now, she wanted him.
“Sit down.” Using his toe, he pointed to the tiny space he didn’t occupy at the end of the sofa.
She complied, unable to peel her eyes away from him.
“I don’t know what Rocky told you, but I was under the impression that I was legally divorced.”
What? Oh, right. Heather. Marriage. Divorce. Focus, Ketra. “Under the impression?” she croaked.
“Let me just say this. Then you can ask questions. Heather left me. She wanted a divorce, a new life. And she expected me to pay for everything along the way. I got tired of arguing with her and tired of paying my attorney to fight with hers. So, I signed everything I needed to sign just to get rid of her. I thought it was a done deal.” He swung his legs over the side of the couch and braced his elbows on his knees. “Apparently, Heather’s had buyer’s remorse and doesn’t want to sign the final papers after all. The problem is, no one bothered to tell me. All this time, I thought I was divorced.”
“What do you mean, she changed her mind? You said she wanted the divorce.”
“She said she made a mistake. She wants us to stay married.”
“But…? You’re not…?”
He scooted next to her and enfolded her in his arms. “God no.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist. No way could she deny how right it felt to be held by him. His strength and warmth made her feel safe. And cherished. “What are you going do?”
“I’m going to call my lawyer and get this mess straightened out.”
After several seconds of silence, he released her and stood. A log in the fireplace snapped. Red-orange sparks flew up the chimney. At the window, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “This is what she wanted.”
Ketra couldn’t tell if he was still talking to her or reassuring himself that finalizing the divorce was what he really wanted.
“Maybe my lawyer’s been trying to call me. I don’t know. I haven’t turned on my personal cell phone in days. And I haven’t checked my messages at home since Denny told me to get out of town.”
After swallowing a lump in her throat, she asked. “Do you still love her?”
He whirled around. “No. I haven’t loved her in quite a while.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were divorced?” She wondered if Trevor heard the ache in her voice.
He jammed his fingers through his wet hair. “I didn’t think it mattered. I don’t like to talk about it. It’s over. Done. Not worth dwelling on.”
She stared into his conflicted eyes, hoping he’d tell her the whole story. He must have sensed her need to know because he rubbed the back of his neck then returned to the sofa.
“I can see that it does matter.” He held her hands, making slow circles with his thumbs across her knuckles.
“Heather left me…for…a…another woman.” He didn’t look at her but continued to massage her hands with his thumbs. “She met someone on-line who made her feel special.” He sneered in a sing-song way; the way children do when making fun of something.
“She said she was funny and kind and sensitive and made her feel things she’d never felt before. She said she still loved me, but she had to see if there was something with this woman. She said she needed someone who ‘understood her.’” He quoted the words in the air with curled fingers.
Ketra made an effort to close her mouth and lower her brows but failed. “How long were you married?” She wanted to hold him and comfort him but was unsure if he’d welcome it.
“Almost three years.”
“And you never suspected…or….”
She didn’t miss the pain, etched deep in his dark eyes. “No. It’s humiliating. I’m not man enough to please my wife.”
Ketra extricated her hands from his and placed them on his cheeks. “That isn’t true. She had to be conflicted. It’s not easy admitting you’re gay.”
“I was totally clueless. Detectives can’t be clueless. We’d be either fired or dead if we were.”
Not accustomed to comforting people, she had no idea what say to lessen his pain. Instead she tried to cajole him. “So that’s why you’re trying so hard all the time? Gotta prove you’re macho and manly?”
He snarled at her and rolled his neck from one shoulder to the other and retorted. “You’re one to talk. You’re the one trying to act strong and tough all the time?”
Touché. She bowed her head.
He launched backward into the sofa cushions, his arms limp at his sides. “I thought I was a better judge of character. I guess I can’t read people as well as I thought.”
The fire hissed as if mocking his situation. She stared at him, helpless to cheer him. “You read me. Dead spot on. From the very beginning.”
His silvery eyes, veiled by a sheen of tears, stared out the window at the cold wet rain soaking the ground. He blinked several times before speaking. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been on duty the day Noah got shot. Maybe I should have taken voluntary leave when Heather dropped her little bombshell. Denny encouraged me to. But I needed to keep working. Keep my mind occupied.”
The words, uttered so quietly, might not have been intended to be spoken aloud. She crawled next to him and reached for his hands. “It wasn’t your fault. None of this was your fault.”
He shot to his feet and crammed his feet into his still wet boots. With shaking fingers he tried to don his shirt. “I’ve got to get out of here. I didn’t tell you this so you’d feel sorry for me. I just want you to know that I am definitely not married.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you.” Alarmed by his abruptness, she stood. “I just don’t want you to hold on to all that anger and guilt. None of any of that was your fault.”
“Well if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.” He opened the door and stepped out into the deluge.
She stared at the closed door for a few minutes. He had a point. He also needed confirmation that he was still a virile, competent, and sexy man. She had no idea how to cheer him, but determination to find a way fizzled in her gut.
She’d never been a flirt. Even with Kyle, she’d not been an eyelash-batting, cleavage-showing kind of girl. She’d laughed at his corny jokes, but never exhibited any serious ‘I want you’ moves. What she needed right now, even though completely uncharacteristic for her, were some serious ‘I want you’ moves.
She chewed on her lower lip. She’d have to take care of a few details before carrying out her plan. The last thing she needed was an interruption while trying to perform a seduction. Especially since she’d never tried to seduce anyone before.
She called Rocky and told him that she wouldn’t be up for dinner tonight, using the excuse that she was emotionally spent after their talk this afternoon. She assured him that she’d be up in the morning to sa
y good-bye to Kennedy and Marco. She confirmed that she and Trevor had talked and that she understood what he had been trying to tell her out by the ancient oak.
Next, she fixed her favorite casserole and covered the dish with a glass lid. After a hot shower she put on a pair of new jeans and a soft cashmere sweater with a low-cut neckline. She dabbed perfume behind her ears and slicked gloss on her lips. With a rain slicker draped over her shoulders, she cradled the casserole dish in the crook of her arm.
The dash across the yard to Trevor’s porch took about five seconds. She took a deep breath and knocked.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Trevor stepped out of the shower to the sound of knocking. He wrapped a towel around his waist. Ketra stood on his porch looking like sin with a halo. He wanted to be left alone. Their previous conversation both upset and drained him of all rationale. He hadn’t meant for her to see him so enervated.
“Can I come in?”
He couldn’t think of a good excuse to turn her away. Besides, he’d sit all night and wonder what she’d wanted if he denied her entry. “I’m not dressed, but yeah.” He opened the door keeping one hand firmly on the towel.
“I brought a casserole. I’ll put it in your oven.”
“What’s going on?”
“Well…in case you haven’t noticed…it’s raining again. It won’t be long before the thunder and lightning start. As you know, I don’t particularly like storms so I thought…maybe we could….”
He quirked his lips. The last time they spent together during a storm turned out to be one of the best nights of his life. “All right.” Is she nervous about the weather, or is something else making her edgy?
She slipped off the rain slicker and hung it next to his hat. His eyes traveled the length of her. “Why you all dolled up?”
“What? I’m not—”
“Okay. What’s really going on here?”
She huffed. “I just thought maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone, after…what happened…today.”
He stared down at her. “I do want to be alone. But I like that you’re worried about me.”
On Common Ground Page 23