by Rachel Lee
Maybe he was just hiding out in this cocoon in order to feel better for a while before returning to the reality of his life. Before facing Ben and dealing once again with the tragedy and pain of Brandy.
He stifled a sigh, hating that he wasn’t really sure of himself. He’d always been certain of what he was thinking and feeling, but now he wondered. It would be too easy to take a stab at refuge right now. To hide out and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Was that what he was doing?
He supposed it was possible. He’d been busy shucking every reminder of his old life. Maybe he just wanted a new one ready-made without all the hassle of making it.
But then he thought of Marti in his arms and knew one thing for certain. He wanted her. Making love with her had been among the very best experiences of his life. He even had grown fond of that baby bump.
Okay, so maybe he had some business here to think about later. After Fresno. After he’d taken whatever shellacking Ben doled out and did his best to explain the unexplainable.
Because even while he had lived with it for years, there was no real way he could understand the pain that had finally made Brandy think death would be better than life. He figured no one who hadn’t been there would ever understand.
But he’d also been trying for eight months to live with it, and it didn’t seem to be getting easier. He wondered if thoughts of failure would dog him the rest of his days.
Marti had eased a bit of that. She’d made him feel like it was possible for him to make a woman happier if not happy. For that he would always be grateful to her.
But she deserved more than gratitude, he didn’t want to leave and the whole thing is his mind was getting a little mixed up. What exactly did he feel for Marti?
Going to Fresno, getting away for a week, might make that considerably clearer, he decided. It only remained to find out if she wanted to see him on his way back from California.
If she did, then he’d be free of his last obligation to Brandy and maybe better able to sort it all out. If she didn’t… Well, he’d deal with that.
But he was growing increasingly certain that he was going to leave at least a small piece of his withered heart behind him in Wyoming.
* * *
Marti was tired from their day in town, but it was a good tired, the kind that had come from having a lot of fun.
She couldn’t remember this place ever having felt so much like a home as it did now with the card table adjusted so that she could play with her feet up and Ryder facing her across it with a grin, teasing her mercilessly about her total lack of knowledge when it came to card games.
“You do know what a card looks like, don’t you?” he asked, holding up the deck.
“Of course!”
“Now what about suits and the value of each card?”
She giggled. “I’m not that dumb. I just haven’t played that much. Not since I was in high school, and even then I didn’t play often.”
“Ah, a neophyte for the plucking.”
“There isn’t much to pluck.”
“Points,” he said. “You’d better hope you have a great case of beginner’s luck.”
“I’m the world’s luckiest beginner,” she joked.
It got even funnier when he spent the first few rounds playing her hand for her to explain what was going on. She had no idea what the game was, didn’t even care, but she got a big kick out of him rounding the table to perch on the arm of her chair, pick up her cards and say, “Now, what would Marti do?”
If he still felt that uneasiness from this morning, he hadn’t mentioned it all day. For that she was grateful. She tried not to be superstitious at all, but the simple fact was she had been raised by a very superstitious mother. There were some things she couldn’t quite shake to this day.
But Ryder seemed fine now and kept her laughing and smiling until her eyelids grew too heavy to hold up any longer.
She must have dozed off because all of a sudden there was a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Ryder said.
She yawned and blinked herself back to some kind of awareness. He helped her rise to her feet and followed her up the stairs as if he were afraid she might fall. His big hands rested lightly on her hips, ready to steady her.
“Did you ever play train when you were a kid?” she asked sleepily.
“You mean like this?” His hands pushed gently, alternating between her hips as he made a choo-choo sound.
A giggle started to emerge but a yawn grabbed her instead. He was right behind her every step of the way to her bedroom, and she offered no objection as he helped her undress.
Why would she? she thought as he sat her on the side of the bed and lifted away her clothing one bit at a time, kissing her flesh as he exposed it.
“You’re waking me up,” she pretended to grouse.
“Not much, and I’m not going to keep you awake. Not tonight. Anyone who dozes off like you just did needs sleep.”
“But…”
He silenced her with a kiss. “I’ll take a raincheck for the morning.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
The warm fires that had started to grow deep inside her settled down, feeling nice but not demanding. He pulled her nightshirt over her head, then tucked her in like a baby.
“Sweet dreams,” he said. “I’m going to read for a while. I’ll be up later.”
She wanted to protest his departure, didn’t want to lose a single minute with him, but had to admit that she really was too tired. Turning over on her side, sleep crept up on her even as she heard his footsteps go down the hall and down the stairs.
He’d said he’d come back later. She sighed and drifted away.
Chapter 11
In the nursery, Ben was about ready to blow a gasket. The woman was upstairs, he’d heard Ryder go back downstairs and now he couldn’t do a damn thing. No way would he get downstairs without alerting Ryder to his presence.
Cramped in the closet, he was growing very uncomfortable and cussed under his breath as he wondered how long it would be. An hour? More? And then he’d have to give Ryder time to fall asleep, too.
Crap, this hadn’t been his wisest choice in this whole business, but he still couldn’t think of a better way.
Maybe Ryder wasn’t sleeping with the woman after all, but it didn’t change Ben’s feelings any. He’d heard the two of them laughing, and it had kept his anger at a full simmer for the past couple of hours.
Ryder laughing. With his wife not in the ground a whole year. Major burn.
He fingered the knife he held, testing its razor-sharp edge with his thumb. Patience, he counseled himself. He’d waited this long, and sooner or later Ryder would return upstairs, and because of that creaking hallway, the house would tell him which room Ryder went to.
He kind of cherished the hope that Ryder would head away from the woman. He’d really rather not have her involved. He didn’t directly blame her for Ryder’s sins, and it would be so much easier and safer to only have to deal with one of them.
Peering out the crack he’d left open in the closet door, he waited and listened. If there was one thing his abbreviated time in the army had taught him, it was that he was capable of dealing with a whole lot, and Ryder and that pregnant woman weren’t as big a problem as some he’d dealt with.
Counting his breaths, he drew relaxation over himself like a cloak. The time would come when he’d need his anger and adrenaline, but it would be stupid to get worn out from it in advance.
Relax. The situation was fluid but still under his control. Most definitely.
* * *
Ryder couldn’t quite settle. Although he hadn’t mentioned it to Marti again, he still
had that uneasy sense that something bad was going to happen. He prowled downstairs, checking every window and door to be sure they were locked. He ought to hear if anyone tried to get in.
At last he sat down to read a book, but couldn’t relax into it. With each word he read, he was aware that his senses were hyperacute, listening for any sound that wasn’t ordinary.
He tried to talk himself down. After all, he’d seen exactly nothing to heighten his concern and Marti’s feeling of being watched a couple of times could have been some animal. After the tornado, only God knew what might have been displaced and was looking for a new home. He was willing to bet this area had mountain lions, and Marti had even once mentioned wolves in the mountains. Man, it could have even been a neighbor’s dog that had gotten through a destroyed fence.
After a few hours, he heard Marti climb out of bed, and he could hear her light step in the hallway going toward the bathroom. He smiled faintly. He’d gotten used to her frequent needs that could drag her out of bed several times a night and that had made her say earlier today that she needed to be within dashing distance of a bathroom at all times.
She had joked about it, but he spent some minutes wondering just how much of an effect a pregnancy had on so much. Adding twenty to twenty-five pounds all in one place…well, things were going to get moved around or squished. One of the things he liked about her was that she never complained about it. He wondered if he would be so positive if he were the one bearing the load.
But she really wanted this baby. He hoped he got to see Linda Marie after she was born. The tug toward the whole notion of that little girl’s birth had been growing in him from the start, from the first kick. Maybe he was stupid, but he hadn’t thought a man would feel such a thing for another man’s unborn child.
But there it was, making his reluctance to move on all the greater. He didn’t need that, he warned himself. He had to go see Ben. Only then could he decide what to do after.
Marti’s footsteps emerged from the bathroom, then paused. He smiled to himself, thinking she had stopped to admire the nursery. She had been doing that ever since they had painted and papered it, and now there was furniture, too.
If he never gave her anything else, at least he’d given her part of her dream. That settled warmly in his heart, melting the last of the ice he’d been carrying for so long.
He was capable of taking care of a woman. He was capable of making one smile and laugh.
God knew, he’d spent years wondering if he ever could or would.
* * *
Ben had had enough. Hours were ticking away and he had to take care of this tonight. He couldn’t sit here forever, and what if someone came by in the early morning? No, this had to be done now.
The woman going to the bathroom suddenly struck him as an opportunity. He eased out of the closet and slid his way slowly to the nursery door, covered by the sounds of running water. Then he waited.
When the Chastain woman emerged, paused at the nursery, and the door started to open, he knew his moment had come. He grabbed her the instant the door opened and she stood frozen in shock. Shock helped him. It made him possible for him to seize her, whip her around and hold her tight with one arm beneath her breasts and the knife at her throat.
Then she helped him by letting out a shriek. In moments Ryder would come running.
“Shut up or I’ll cut your throat,” he said to the woman. She immediately fell silent and still. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want Ryder.”
He felt her tense then relax again. Docile. Exactly what he wanted her to be. And he had no doubt that with his training he would be able to overpower Ryder and take him out. With a little help from the woman, of course.
Yes, she would be helpful.
He heard the stampede of Ryder’s booted feet on the staircase. Moments later, his enemy filled the doorway, looking stunned.
“Don’t say anything,” he barked at Ryder. “Does she know who I am?”
Ryder’s hands clenched and unclenched. “Why would she?” he said. “Damn, I told you, I’m just working around here.”
“You seem a little cozy, the two of you. Maybe I should just cut her now.”
“What good would that do?” Ryder demanded. “It’s me you want, right?”
“You better believe it. You killed your wife.”
Ryder froze. “Maybe I did,” he said finally.
It was music to Ben’s ears. “So the question is,” he said, “whether I’m going to just take you out, or take her out, too.”
Smiling, he waited, enjoying having the upper hand.
* * *
Ryder rode the edge of panic. Not for himself. He didn’t care what happened to him, but the sight of Ben with a knife to Marti’s throat almost overcame him. There were two lives he had to protect no matter the cost.
He forced himself to focus, to shove the panic back. To find out what Ben wanted so maybe he could gain some control here.
“Is it just me you want?” he asked. “Because if so, you can put her aside right now and deal with me.”
“No,” Ben said. “That would be too easy for you. If I thought you’d give enough of a damn if I killed this woman, I’d do it just to see you hurt the way you didn’t hurt when Brandy died.”
“I didn’t hurt?” The idea stunned Ryder. “I hurt like hell.”
“Right. But you killed her. So you’re going to pay. And maybe this woman will be part of the price. One slit and she’s gone, Ryder, and then I can take care of you.”
One slit and she’d be gone, all right. Of that Ryder had not the least doubt. In that instant he realized he had to convince Ben he didn’t give a damn about Marti, that he was some kind of cold-blooded ass who hadn’t cared about his wife and didn’t care about this woman.
“What,” he asked quietly, “makes you think I give any more of a damn about this woman than I did about Brandy? I just met her. I stopped to do some carpentry work, that’s all. There was a freaking hole in her roof, she’s a nice lady, so I helped. But you think I give a damn about someone else’s pregnant bitch?” He heard her gasp, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at Marti as he spoke those words. They felt like knives in his own heart, and he could only think they struck Marti just the same. Nor could he afford to think about that now.
Ben’s smile was growing. “I knew you were heartless. You use women. Was she the next you were going to kick away?”
“We hadn’t even gotten that far. I was leaving and she knew it. What kind of woman do you take her for?”
“One who could fall sway to your charms the way Brandy did.”
“Well, she didn’t. Too bad you didn’t wait. I was leaving tomorrow.”
Marti was visibly sagging. Ben’s expression was changing to one of great satisfaction.
“Look,” Ryder said, “take it out on me. Why make such a big mess the cops will never stop looking for you? Lock her in her bedroom and deal with me.”
Ben paused to consider. “How can I lock her in? Doors lock from the inside.”
“This is an old house. The doors can be locked from the outside with a key. Just put her in there. Make her promise to stay until you’re gone.”
Ben hesitated. “Do you think Ryder cares about you?” he asked Marti.
Ryder almost flinched when he saw the deadness of her expression, the paleness of her face.
“No,” she whispered. “He never did.”
The words dropped into Ryder’s heart like knives as sharp as the one Ben was holding. She meant them. He could hear the truth in them. But he fought down the overwhelming pain. What happened to him didn’t matter. Only what happened to Marti.
“Come on,” he managed to say. “She doesn’t matter to me, and she sure as hell doesn’t matter to you. So just lock her up and let’s have it out.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He returned his attention to Ryder. “Then go out back and wait for me. I don’t want you looking over my shoulder while I lock her up.”
“I can help.”
“I don’t trust you. Get the hell out before I slit her throat! Make sure you wait for me, or I will come back up here and cut her to ribbons and it’ll be on your head, like Brandy.”
So Ryder turned and walked away from the woman he only now realized had become the most precious thing in his life. With every step, dread grew. What if Ben didn’t just lock her up?
But he could see no other way. If he attacked Ben, it might only get Marti killed or hurt.
So he headed out back. Along the way he grabbed Marti’s biggest butcher knife and concealed it under his shirt.
Please, God, he prayed harder than he had prayed for anything since Brandy’s death, save her. Don’t let Ben hurt her.
* * *
Ben urged Marti down the hall to her bedroom at knifepoint. She put up no fuss. The baby, she reminded herself. Damn Ryder to hell, but she had to save the baby. Thoughts of Linda Marie kept her docile, led her to her dresser to pull out one of the big old-fashioned keys to the room and hand it to the guy. Ben, she supposed, though she wouldn’t give away that she had guessed.
She didn’t tell him there was a second key at the back of the drawer, that she had no intention of remaining indefinitely locked in this room once this was over. Plus, once she unlocked the door from the inside and relocked it from the inside, as long as she left the key in the lock, no one would be able to open the door from the outside.
That man was not going to get back in here, nor was she going to be locked up any longer than she chose.
“You stay and be a good girl,” Ben said to her. “I really don’t want to kill you. Too much karma.”
He was thinking about murdering Ryder, but killing her was too much karma? Her mind whirled with the craziness of his thinking—and with the shock of the things Ryder had said.