Marriage By Necessity

by Christine Rimmer

  “Do you...hear anything from Nate?”

  He paused with one foot in the saddle, then hoisted himself up. “Not a word,” he said, once he’d found his seat.

  She looked down at the worn boards of the porch.

  “I’m real sorry, Meggie.”

  She looked up and gave her friend a smile. “Hey. It’s not your fault. You take care, now.”

  He saluted her and turned his horse for the gate.

  Meggie stayed on the porch to watch him go, thinking that lately no one seemed to know much about Nate. Even Dolores hardly mentioned him anymore—other than to say he was gone most of the time.

  Meggie had begun to feel as if he were fading from the world she knew. As if someday soon, Dolores would write and say he’d given up his apartment.

  He would disappear completely, find an entirely different life for himself. And Meggie would never see—or hear—of him again.

  Nate’s private line was ringing when he let himself in the apartment after flying home from a five-day surveillance gig in Boca Raton. He had a cracked rib and a black eye, both caused by a run-in with the object of his surveillance—a hotheaded type who hadn’t appreciated having his picture taken. Nate had managed to escape with the information he needed, but he’d lost a very expensive camera. Also, his side hurt like the devil and his head felt as if some fiend was in there with a hammer and an ice pick, pounding away.

  He got the door open and bolted to the phone, catching it just before the answering machine switched on. “Yeah, hello?”

  “Happy Easter—a day early.” It was Zach.

  Nate pressed his sore side, wincing, silently calling himself a damn fool for not letting the answering machine do its job. Lately, he found himself driven to break speed records whenever the phone rang. He never intended to get near Meggie again. But a phone call might bring news of her, news that something had gone wrong, that there was a problem with the baby, that Meggie needed him....

  “You there, Nate?”

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  Zach didn’t hedge. “I stopped by your wife’s place today.”

  Nate blinked, dropped into the green chair and then groaned as his cracked rib protested. “So?”

  “It’s calving time around here.”

  Nate pressed his side some more. “Get to the point.”

  “Meggie’s big, Nate. Really big with that baby you gave her. Before you dumped her.”

  Nate closed his eyes and said nothing. He was used to being the bad guy. His cousin’s hard words didn’t bother him much. But having to listen to him say Meggie’s name did.

  Zach went on, “I know you, Nate. I know there’s more going on here than I understand. More than you or Meggie will ever explain to me. But an eight-monthspregnant woman running a ranch at calving time without enough hands to do the work—it’s not good.”

  “She didn’t hire anybody?”

  “Is that a question?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She says she put the word out, but got no takers. I did a little calling around, and I can’t come up with anyone, either. I suppose I can send one of my own men over. It’s not like I have them to spare. But for Meggie—”

  “All right.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “You heard what I said.”

  “Good. Cash says he’ll fly the Cessna down to Denver to meet you. So let us know when you’re coming in.”

  No way, Nate thought. Cash would bring Abby and Abby was just too damn much like the sister he’d never had. Nate would get lectured on what a low-down rat he’d been to Meggie all the way from Denver to Sheridan. “I’ll manage on my own. Thanks.”

  “Nate—”

  “I said, I’ll manage on my own.”

  “I’ll tell Meggie you’re—”

  “Tell Meggie nothing. I’ll get there when I get there. Understand?”

  Zach sighed. “Sure. As long as you’re coming, and soon.”

  “I’ll get the next flight out. Is that good enough?”

  “I guess it’ll have to be.”

  Sunday, though they couldn’t afford to do it, Sonny, Farrah and Meggie took a half day off. They hid eggs in the yard for the kids to find. And they drove into town to go to church. Then they went back to work.

  On Monday, Sonny and Farrah rode out early, as usual. Meggie saw Katie off to the school bus and then took Davey around with her as she did her chores. The day passed uneventfully. Katie came home at three and took Davey back to the bunkhouse with her.

  About three-thirty. Sonny and Farrah appeared, leading a prolapsed cow.

  “We decided to let you handle this,” Sonny said, his eyes gleaming with humor.

  “Thanks.” Meggie didn’t bother to inject any gratitude into the word.

  Farrah went on in to check on the kids. Sonny took the cow into the shed off the main corral and coaxed her into the chute. When he had her in, he winked at Meggie. “She’s all yours.”

  Meggie considered using a plastic sleeve, but that gleam in Sonny’s eyes made her sure he would razz her that she didn’t need a sleeve for a little job like this. Just looking at that smirk of his got her rancher’s pride up—as he knew it would.

  Meggie stripped off her down jacket and the sweater she wore underneath it. Then she rolled up the sleeve of her maternity smock and moved behind the cow.

  The prolapsed umbilical cord was swelled as round as a cantaloupe, and flame red. Meggie tried to lift it gently, to see if the cow could get a little relief, since she probably hadn’t emptied her bladder in a while.

  But nothing happened. Very carefully, Meggie began the delicate process of trying to ease the prolapse back where it had come from. It was important to be gentle, to take it very slowly.

  After what seemed like a lifetime, Meggie finally managed to accomplish the goal. The umbilical cord slid back inside the cow where it belonged.

  By then, the cow had voided both her bladder and her bowels. Repeatedly. Meggie had a good amount of the stuff—and quite a bit of blood, as well—splashed on her jeans and shirt. Also, her hand had gone right into the cow with the retracting prolapse.

  The cow seemed a lot happier, though. She took cake from the trough in front of her and crunched away on it as if she’d never had a care in the world. Meggie waited, to be sure the cow was really settled down before she pulled out.

  Right then, out in the dirt drive that turned around between the bunkhouse and her own house, Meggie heard the sound of a vehicle barreling in, tires spraying gravel as it braked. Sonny’s hound barked out a warning.

  . Meggie felt the cow tighten up a little at the noise. “Go see who that is,” she commanded. “And make that dog quiet down.”

  Sonny marched off to do her bidding. A moment later, she heard him order the dog to be silent. The barking stopped. A vehicle door opened and closed.

  Meggie held still, listening to the cow munch on the cake, waiting for the interior muscles to relax a little more.

  “Meggie...” Her cousin’s voice came from behind her, full of something Meggie didn’t like—wariness or worry, she wasn’t sure which.

  She turned her head. Between the wide-open doors of the shed, right beside Sonny, stood Nate.

  Chapter Twelve

  Meggie could only gape. She must be seeing things.

  But no, he was real. His black hair gleamed in the thin spring sunlight. He had a livid black eye and a frown on his full lips.

  He took in Meggie’s situation at a glance, and moved swiftly to the other end of the cow. Quietly, he spoke to her, petting her forehead, saying soft, tender things.

  Meggie felt the muscles inside the cow relax. Slowly, she eased out and stepped back. What was splattered on her pregnancy-paneled jeans and smock was also thick and pungent all the way up her arm.

  Sonny, his face all pinched up in disapproval of Nate, handed her some medication. She poked it inside where her hand had been. She asked, “Any string around here?” Sonny came up with some pac
kaging string. Meggie used it to stitch up the cow, and then, as a final preventive measure, she administered a shot of penicillin.

  “You can have her back now,” she said to her cousin.

  “Terrific,” Sonny replied, with a minimum of enthusiasm.

  Meggie, her foolish heart racing in joy, turned to Nate. Masking her elation at the sight of him, she gave him a long, assessing stare. “What happened to your eye?”

  “A minor disagreement with an object of surveillance.”

  “You favor your right side.”

  He shrugged. “A cracked rib, I think. It’ll heal.”

  She went on looking at him. He looked right back. His eyes gave nothing away—beyond a kind of grim determination.

  Whatever he’d come for, it wasn’t a reunion. She would bet her favorite cutting horse on that. Her silly heart settled into a more reasonable rhythm.

  “I want to clean up,” she said. “And then we can talk.”

  Meggie took a long shower. Then she put on a clean pair of pants and a tunic-length sweater, dried her hair and went downstairs.

  Nate was waiting at the kitchen table. As she walked toward him, she tried not to shuffle. She couldn’t help feeling like the cow she’d just treated, and hating the way he watched her, so distant and measuring.

  She pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down as gracefully as she could—which wasn’t very graceful at all.

  “When’s the baby due?” he asked.

  “The first of May.”

  “A month.”

  “Yes.”

  A silence descended and hung as heavy as a lead weight between the two of them. She knew he was counting. “So that means you were—what? About four months pregnant before I figured it out?”

  She refused to shrink from the accusation in his eyes. “Just about.”

  “You knew you were pregnant. And you didn’t tell me.”

  “Yep. I wanted to stay with you. Pretty stupid, huh?”

  He gave no answer, only went on looking at her with that remote, brooding stare.

  The baby kicked. Meggie put her hand on her belly and rubbed, looking down at the spot, letting a small, soothing noise escape her.

  When she glanced up, he was still watching her. At that moment, she dared to think she saw tenderness in his eyes, but not for long. He announced flatly, “I’m staying, until the baby comes.”

  Her foolish heart leaped. But her mind knew better. “Why?”

  “To help out.”

  Meggie rested a hand on the table and studied her short, ragged fingernails.

  “I’m staying, Meggie,” he said, as if her silence implied argument.

  And it did. She didn’t want him around if he was going to brood and sulk and watch her with eyes as hard as a banker’s heart. “It’s not necessary for you to stay. We’re doing all right.”

  “Who’s working the herd with Sonny?”

  “Farrah.”

  He grunted, a very self-vindicated sound.

  “Farrah’s doing just fine,” she said defensively. “She works hard, and Sonny takes up the slack. And I...do what I can.”

  A cold smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I saw. You looked damned uncomfortable standing there with your hand inside that cow and your belly out to here.”

  “I did fine by that cow.”

  “Whatever. You need help around here. There’s no shame in admitting what you need.”

  She met his eyes square on. “I’m fine, Nate. Go back to L.A.”

  “No. That’s my baby you’ve got inside you. Maybe I’ll never be much of a father to it. But I can ride a horse and pull a calf—things you can’t do right now. You’re going to have to let me take care of this damn ranch of yours so you can ease up and take care of yourself for a while.”

  “I am taking care of myself.”

  “Fine. And now you’ll take better care of yourself.”

  The baby kicked again, right in the spot where Meggie’s hand already rested. She rubbed it some more.

  “Meggie. You know I’m right.”

  She did, of course. It was his baby, too. And if he wanted to take some of the burden off her now, she owed it to him and their child to let him.

  With some effort, she pushed herself to her feet. Her back ached, and she rubbed it, sighing a little, making no pretense now that her burden didn’t tire her. “Bring your things in. You can take the front bedroom upstairs.”

  He looked up at her. “Are you really all right?”

  She saw the concern in his eyes, all mixed up with the coldness and the determination to remain indifferent to her. She forced a smile. “Doc Pruitt says there’s nothing wrong with me that a few more weeks and several hours of labor won’t cure.”

  “The baby’s healthy?”

  “As far as anyone can tell.”

  “What about your cousin?”

  “What about him?”

  “I could tell by the look he gave me that I’m not his favorite person.”

  “I told him the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “That you helped me out to keep the Double-K, and now you want your freedom back—as we agreed from the first.”

  “Hell, Meggie,” he said grimly.

  “I just got sick of all the lies, Nate. And I couldn’t see any reason to keep telling them anymore, anyway.”

  He let out a long, weary breath. “Fine. The question is, will he work with me?”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  “I’m glad you’re sure.”

  “We’ll talk to him tonight.”

  “Terrific,” he muttered as he rose. “I’ll get my bag.”

  Sonny and his family and Meggie and Nate all ate together that night in Meggie’s kitchen. It was an ordeal of hard looks between Sonny and Nate, worried glances between the women—and acting up from Davey, who had the radar of most children and seemed to sense that things weren’t right with the grown-ups.

  Meggie hardly ate a bite, which worried Farrah all the more. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Are you sick?”

  “What are you talking about?” Nate demanded. “She told me today that she’s fine.”

  “She was fine.” Farrah shot him a glare. “Until recently , anyway.”

  “Are you going to throw up, Aunt Meggie?” Kate asked, her eyes wide. “I could get you a bowl if you are. Mommy always gets me a bowl.”

  “No, Katie,” Meggie said gently. “I am not going to throw up. I am not sick. I just don’t have a big appetite tonight, that’s all.”

  “Yucky, yucky. Hate cawots,” chanted Davey. He picked up a handful of boiled carrots and dropped them over the edge of his high chair onto the floor.

  “That’s enough, young man,” Sonny said sternly.

  Davey beat on his chair tray and chanted, “No, no, no, no....”

  “That does it,” Farrah murmured. She stood, scooped Davey into her arms and started for the door. He wailed and cried and flailed his fists, but his mother just kept going. His outraged wails continued as she carried him down the short hall, through the living room, out the front door and across the yard to her own house.

  The rest of them ate in silence for a while.

  Finally, Kate said, “Daddy, I’m all done. Mommy bought some Tootsie Pops. Can I go home and have one?”

  “You go right on, baby.”

  Kate rose, as well behaved as her brother was wild, and carried her plate to the sink, where she rinsed it and stacked it on the counter, ready to wash. Then she went to Meggie’s side. “I think I’ll kiss you good-night now, Meggie.”

  “Good night, honey.” Meggie put an arm around Kate and kissed her on the cheek, a favor that Kate then returned.

  “Should I kiss you, too, Daddy? Just in case I go to bed and you’re not home yet.”

  “Good idea.”

  More kisses were exchanged.

  Then Kate looked at Nate, a frown creasing her smooth brow. “Who hit you in the eye?”

 
“Katie...” Sonny warned.

  Nate actually grinned. “It’s all right. An angry man hit me.”

  “Did you hit him back?”

  “Well...”

  “That’s enough, Katie,” Sonny said. “Go on back to the house.”

  Kate started to leave, then turned back to Nate. “Good night,” she said sweetly.

  Nate nodded. “Good night, Katie.”

  Once Kate left, the three adults ate in silence for a few minutes—minutes that seemed to Meggie to crawl by like centuries. Then Sonny rose to carry his plate to the sink.

  Meggie knew that in a minute he would be leaving for his own house. She cleared her throat. “Sonny?”

  He set his plate down and turned. “Yeah?”

  Meggie shot a glance at Nate. No help there. His face was impassive, his eyes fathomless.

  She forged on. “Sonny, I suppose you’re wondering what Nate’s doing here.”

  Sonny tipped his head to the side. “Well, yeah. I suppose I am.”

  “Nate’s come back to help out for a while, until calving time’s through.”

  Sonny leaned on the drainboard, his wary expression turning to one of frank disapproval. “You mean he’ll be leaving you again, right?”

  Meggie dragged in a breath and answered carefully, “Sonny, he hasn’t come back here for me. He’s come for the baby’s sake, to help out, since we’re shorthanded right now.”

  Sonny looked down at his boots. “Well. That’s real big of him.”

  Meggie glanced at Nate again. His face betrayed nothing beyond a watchful, bleak patience. “Sonny,” she said. “You’re wrong to blame Nate for...what’s happened. I told you before that he only did what I begged him to do. He helped out a...friend. And he got nothing for it. In fact, it’s cost him. To be here through summer and fall, he lost—”

  “Stop it, Meggie,” Nate said.

  She shook her head. “No, I want to say this. I don’t think Sonny understands that you missed months of work to be here when I needed—”

  Meggie stopped in midsentence as Nate stood. “There’s no point in going into this.” He winced and pressed his hand against his injured rib. He turned to Sonny. “Look. I’m here to help out for reasons that should be pretty damn obvious to everyone. You’re going to have to work with me. Can you handle that?”