You Belong to Me

by You Belong to Me (NCP) (lit)

  Max perched once more on the arm of the chair and nervously swung one leg. "I'm trying to say I'm sorry for ruining your Thanksgiving."

  Well, he had done that all right. "There's no need to apologize." She was the one who had done the eavesdropping. "I was at fault too."

  "No. You weren't. I thought I could gather all those people under one roof and it would be like we were one big happy family." He extended one hand. "That's what I wanted, a big, happy family. Instead, I got a house full of disagreeing strangers." His hand fell to his side. "I spoiled Thanksgiving for you. I'm sorry."

  Relief made Julie's voice shrill. "It was an understandable mistake." The knot of tension in her stomach began to untie. "And you don't need to apologize." What an enigma he was, apologizing for guests he had no control over and seemingly not having a qualm about calling his mistress after he had sworn he wouldn't speak to her again. "You have no control over what other people do."

  "I'm responsible for bringing them all together. I know now that was a mistake. I thought having people in the house would make up for your not being able to spend the holiday in Summerville with..." His sentence broke off in mid air. "I only succeeded in making things worse and depressing you even more."

  "All pregnant women are moody." Julie felt as if she'd been given a reprieve. "Why don't we leave what happened Thanksgiving in the past with all those other unpleasant events we've agreed not to mention?"

  "You'd be willing to do that?" Max stood and moved restlessly across the floor.

  "I can't think of anything that would please me more." By now he was standing directly in front of her. Julie looked up and smiled. "We have more pressing things to attend to. I hope you haven't forgotten that I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow."

  "I know." Max sat next to her. "Just like that, I'm forgiven?" His head wagged from side to side. "Thanks for being so understanding."

  He seemed relieved and in good spirits. What Julie had to say might change all that. "I want a telephone in my bedroom."

  Max shrugged. "That can be arranged."

  His swift agreement caught her off guard. She had thought he would argue or maybe even refuse her request. "Just like that, you agree?"

  "I'm surprised you haven't said something sooner. I'll drop by the telephone office tomorrow put in an order for another line to be installed."

  Julie didn't need another line. All she needed was a telephone and she told him as much. "I won't be making all that many calls."

  "There's only one line coming into the house. It has to accommodate my computer, all my business calls and all the calls concerning the ranch, not to mention the calls Mrs. O'Brien makes and receives every day." Once again brackets of tension creased Max's mouth. "It would be better if you had your own line."

  Better for whom? Julie wondered as she realized why Max was so insistent. His calls to and from Andrea came in over the house phone. She refused to let herself look for excuses or try to explain away the obvious. Max didn't intend to mention Andrea. Her heart ached with pain as a hope she had never before dared to own flickered then died away, extinguished by the harsh breath of reality. "Do what you think is best."

  Max stood gracefully to his feet and offered Julie his hand. "Now that we've settled our business, let me help you to your room. You look tired."

  Defeated would have been a more apt word. Julie struggled to her feet. "I'd like to stop by the department store tomorrow when we're in Burke's Crossing. There are a few things I need to pick up."

  "Are you up to that?" Max asked. They had begun the now familiar journey down the hall toward their bedrooms. "I though Lupe did your shopping for you these days."

  "She did," Julie answered, "but I can't ask her to do this."

  "Could I do it for you?"

  That small offer left Julie unsettled and mystified. Why was he so anxious to please her? Guilty conscience probably and concern for his unborn child. "Considering it's less than a week until Christmas I think I should do this shopping myself."

  Max stopped in his tracks. "You can't hope to do all your Christmas shopping in one afternoon. It would be too much for you."

  Julie stopped too and put both hands to the small of her back. "I've done most of my shopping. I ordered from the Sears Roebuck catalog."

  Max began again, to move down the hall. "Christmas is something else we need to discuss."

  Julie plodded along beside him. "Not tonight, I'm too tired." It was a cop-out; a way to postpone discussing what she knew would be a touchy subject. She wasn't retreating, she told herself, just pausing to regroup her forces.

  Max opened the sitting room door then waited for Julie to enter. "Then we can talk about it tomorrow."

  Julie headed straight for her bedroom. "Good night, Max."

  "Good night, Julie."

  Julie slept fitfully. Waking once, as she always did these nights, to make her regular pilgrimage to the bathroom. When the intrusive sound of her alarm clock woke her the next morning she opened her eyes to see the first rays of an early sun streaking the eastern sky. She sat on the side of the bed, rubbed her eyes, reached for her robe and hurried to the bathroom.

  When she appeared in the sitting room some thirty minutes later, Max was draped over a chair waiting for her.

  After a hasty breakfast they settled into Max's car for the long drive to Burke's Crossing. A cold north wind blew across the low flat countryside, shaking the trees and disturbing undergrowth. Swirling sand, like a dancing dervish frolicked across the ground. Julie stared out the car window and sighed. "Winter's coming."

  "Officially, it's already here." Max deftly maneuvered a sharp curve in the gravel road.

  Julie's eyes scanned the landscape. "Some of the oak trees still have their leaves."

  "Those are live oaks. They're evergreens."

  "I didn't know."

  "Speaking of trees," Max aimed an anxious glance in her direction before turning his eyes back to the road. "Do you want to put up a Christmas tree?"

  Julie had known that sooner or later they would have to discuss the coming holidays; she'd hoped for later. She thought of the Christmas decorations she'd collected through the years, stored safely in her hall closet in Summerville. "Do you have decorations for a tree?"

  "Mrs. O'Brien does. She says we can use them. She's going to Carl and Nancy's for Christmas." Max stopped and looked both ways before pulling onto a farm-to-market road.

  "A tree would be nice. Shannon can help us decorate." The thought of having Shannon in the house for the holidays filled Julie with sudden warmth. "Christmas is Shannon's favorite season."

  "Shannon won't be here Christmas." Max told her matter-of-factly.

  Julie had never spent a Christmas away from Shannon. "How do you know that?"

  "She called and told me. They're going to Brett's grandparents for the holidays."

  An emotion akin to dread rose in Julie's throat. "It won't be Christmas without Shannon."

  "Just be thankful you had her all the years you did."

  He was telling her, as nicely as possible that he hadn't been with Shannon at Christmas time since she was four years old. Sadness and a sense of guilt sharpened Julie's disappointment. "This had to be Brett's idea."

  "You don't like Brett very well, do you?" Max asked as he slowed behind a battered old pickup.

  "Not without reason." How long, she wondered, would it be before Brett succeeded in breaking Shannon's heart?

  Max pushed down on the accelerator and sped around the other vehicle. "Why don't you be honest with yourself and admit that you dislike Brett not for anything he's done in the past, but for what you're afraid he might do in the future?"

  "Be honest with myself?" Julie turned the words over in her mind. Was she deluding herself again? "I never said I didn't like Brett." Maybe she wasn't deluding but she was denying.

  Max asked, "Do you?"

  As painful as it was, Julie made herself answer the question truthfully. "Not very well."

 
; They were nearing the city limits of Burke's Crossing. Max slowed the car. "Why not?"

  He wasn't going to shut up until she admitted the truth to him and to herself. "He broke Shannon's heart once."

  "And you think he'll do the same thing again?"

  "Given time, yes."

  They were passing through the tiny residential section of Burke's Crossing. Max slowed to a snail's pace for a school zone. "What about what Shannon did to Brett?"

  Julie came quickly to her daughter's defense. "Shannon didn't do anything to Brett."

  In that logical tone Julie hated, Max argued, "She dumped him and then went off and got herself engaged to another man."

  Julie turned to face Max. "She had reason to dump him. He was fooling around with another girl."

  "Was he?" Max wheeled into the clinic's parking lot. "Brett says he wasn't. He says that was all a misunderstanding."

  "He told you that?" Julie was amazed that Brett would even discuss such a thing with Max. "And you believed him?"

  "More to the point, Shannon believed him." Max pulled into a parking slot and stopped the car. "We're a little early. Would you like to stop by the drug store for a cup of hot chocolate?"

  "No." Was she wrong about Brett? It wouldn't be the first time she had misjudged a man. "I guess I never gave him much of a chance."

  Max chuckled. "You never gave him a chance, period. Why don't you consider him innocent until he's proven guilty?"

  All this talk about truth and trust and proof; did Max know that in pleading his son-in-law's case he was damning himself? He had shattered her trust by breaking his word. The proof she had heard with her own ears. "I'll reserve judgment until later."

  "Well, that's a start." Max set the emergency brake. "In time I think Brett can prove himself, even to you."

  What a pity, Julie thought sadly that Max couldn't do the same. A new truth dawned. "This means you and I will be alone Christmas Day."

  Max rested his arms on the steering wheel. "Not quite. Joe and Pete will be at Half Moon. I hope you'll agree to us inviting them to have dinner with us."

  "What about Hank and Slim," Julie asked. "Won't they be there too?"

  "Slim has a son in Amarillo. He's going there. Hank will be spending the holidays with his sister in Midland. Unfortunately, neither Pete nor Joe has any living relatives."

  Julie couldn't imagine anything worse than having no family, especially during the holiday season. "Of course, we'll invite them." For the first time in a long time she felt a twinge of excitement. "Since Mrs. O'Brien won't be there, I'll cook the dinner myself." She didn't have gifts for Pete and Joe. She could buy something today. "I'll need to go to the grocery store." She had no idea what was in the kitchen.

  Max was staring at her with the strangest look on his face. "You never cease to amaze me. I thought after what happened Thanksgiving you'd raise holy hell if I wanted to ask any of those people back into the house again. Forget going to a grocery store. I'll have Christmas dinner prepared at the cafeteria here in town and pick it up Christmas Eve."

  "You'll do no such thing," Julie retorted indignantly. "I wouldn't dream of serving a catered Christmas dinner." Max was right. She was excited. It had been such a long time since she'd done anything but sit and wait and think about her own pitiful plight. "I have to plan a menu. I can do that while you're in the telephone office." She rummaged around in her handbag searching for a pencil and paper. "Maybe I should start now."

  Max held up one of his hands. "The only way I'm going to consent to you cooking dinner is for you to agree to let me to help you."

  Julie had found the stub of a pencil. "You can't cook. You never could." She retrieved a wrinkled envelope from her handbag. "I have no idea what's in the kitchen."

  "I mean it." Max's voice was firm. "If you don't let me help, dinner will be catered."

  She knew how stubborn he could be. "All right, you can help." A mischievous smile lifted her lips. "Remember our first Christmas in Dallas? You helped me cook dinner then, too. I didn't know how to make stuffing. You told me you did, but you didn't."

  "So my stuffing was less than the best." Max was smiling too. "We still had a great Christmas."

  "Your stuffing was terrible. We had to eat it with a spoon." Julie sobered as remembering made her heart heavy. "We didn't have any money, we didn't have any friends in that big city, and neither of us could cook but we still had a wonderful holiday."

  Max's fingers brushed like sandpaper over silk down the sides of Julie's face. "Did you ever stop to ask yourself why?"

  Bright spots of color rose to stain Julie's cheeks. Suddenly she was fighting tears. "We were so young and so sure of the future."

  Max's fingers slid to the juncture where her neck and shoulder met. "And so in love." He stroked the pulse at the base of her throat with his thumb. "Not all our memories are bad ones." he brought his lips down over hers in a long lingering, sweetly seductive kiss.

  Julie surrendered to the soft invasion of his tongue as she reveled in the sweet fire that warmed her stomach and shot sparks into her thighs and legs. She put her arms around his neck, and laced her fingers through the thickness of his hair.

  After long moments of sheer bliss, Max lifted his face and looked into her eyes. "Where did we lose our way?"

  Julie dropped her hands into her lap. "It's being in a car with you." She glanced down at her bulging misshapen figure and then scanned the ample back seat of the Lincoln town car. "I'm too big to fit in the back seat now."

  Max's mouth tightened as anger clouded the blue of his eyes. "Must you always do that?"

  His sudden attack after so tender a moment left her baffled and confused. "Do what?"

  "Make light of what I feel for you and what I think you feel for me?"

  Her safety, maybe her very sanity, lay in keeping her emotions in check. If she ever again fell into the vortex of love that swirled around her passionate need for this man, she would be lost for time and eternity. She tried to smile and failed, miserably. "Is it so terrible to see the lighter side of passion?"

  "That seems to be all you can see." Gradually Max's features softened but the hard glitter never left his eyes. "It's time for your appointment." It was back again, that cold formality that she had grown to hate.

  Julie could almost envy his ability to so completely separate passion from commitment and desire from love. "I'm ready."

  "Then let's go."

  With a heavy heart Julie reached for the car door and began the slow process of moving her cumbersome body out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It seemed to Julie that she had been pregnant for at least a year. In reality it had been eight months and ten days. She was fortunate in a way. Not many mothers-to-be could pinpoint to within minutes the instant they had conceived. Standing beside her open suitcase, Julie checked her list: Nightgowns, robe, wash cloths, nursing bras, a clock, a radio, birth announcements--everything she'd need for her stay at the clinic in Burke's Crossing. A larger, closed suitcase stood beside the door.

  At Doctor Weatherby's behest Julie would be staying at the hotel in Burke's Crossing for the last two weeks of her pregnancy. "I don't foresee any complications," he had told her during her last office visit, "but this has been a difficult pregnancy. I'd feel better if you were near the clinic at the onset of labor instead forty miles out in the wilderness."

  Julie had objected, "It's less than an hour's drive. I can be here in plenty of time."

  But Max had been adamant. "If Doctor Weatherby thinks you should be near the clinic those last two weeks, we'll make the arrangements."

  Julie protested, "There's no reason..." and then stopped. Maybe Max was glad for an excuse to be rid of her during these last long tedious days of waiting. She hadn't realized before how much she wanted him near her just now. Would he stay in Burke's Crossing with her? If he did, he would do so without her influence or her invitation.

  With an effort Julie pulled her min
d back to the present, closed her suitcase and fastened it. Everything was done. Max had made reservations at the hotel. Her bags were packed. Tomorrow morning he would drive her to Burke's Crossing. He had carefully avoided saying whether or not he would be staying with her and Julie's pride wouldn't let her ask. How strange it was after all these years that she had no idea where she stood with this man.

  In so many other areas it seemed that at last she had begun to put her life in some kind of order. Julie eased down into an overstuffed chair. There remained only one last-minute call to make. Reaching for the telephone, she dialed Royce's number.

  He answered after the first ring. "Hello." How familiar and comforting his voice sounded.

  Julie pushed that thought from her mind and got a firmer grip on the receiver. "Royce, this is Julie. How are you?"

  "Julie," He echoed, "I'm surviving. I was going to call you. Is everything all right?"

  It would be so easy to pour her many doubts and fears into his sympathetic, listening ear. Julie held onto her resolve not to yield to that temptation. "Everything's fine. Max is taking me to Burke's Crossing in the morning. Doctor Weatherby thinks I should be near the clinic these last two weeks."

  "Will you be in the hospital all that time?" A frantic note crept into Royce's voice. "Are there complications?"

  Julie should have anticipated his reaction. One mention of an extended stay in a hospital and immediately Royce remembered Jean's painful and prolonged illness and began to draw frightening conclusions. "I'll be at the hotel in Burke's Crossing. There are no complications. It's a safety precaution. Don't worry."

  Royce persisted, "You would tell me if there was something wrong?"

  Julie answered with a question of her own. "Have I ever lied to you?"

  "No." He replied, seemingly somewhat mollified. "Will Max be staying with you?"

  "I'm a big girl." Looking down at her extended stomach, she thought that was true literally, even if figuratively it might be an exaggeration. "Max has a ranch to take of and a business to run."

  "That means he won't' be there." Royce concluded with a sigh. "Do you want me to come and stay with you?"