Summer Moon

by Jill Marie Landis

  “What do you say we find out if that water is still warm?” He whispered against her neck, amazed at the softness of her skin, the purity of it, golden ivory in the candlelight.

  “We?” Her warm breath tickled his ear.

  “With a bit of imagination that tub should hold two.”

  43

  She overslept and woke up alone.

  Kate rushed while getting dressed, pulling on her stockings and rifling through her drawers until she found a clean white chemise.

  She closed her eyes, wondered about Charm’s lucky one.

  Dear Saint Perpetua, what happened to my clothes?

  Were they still on the bathing room floor?

  She slipped on her petticoat, tied the ties, and then donned her calico gown.

  What now?

  Where do we go from here?

  More than once she paused to study herself in the oval mirror hanging over her chest of drawers, pressed her palms against her cheeks and wondered how on earth— since she was barely able to look herself in the eye—she could ever face Reed again.

  She picked up her precious bottle of rose water, dabbed some on her throat and wrists. Before she left Maine she had splurged on a small amount, hoping to please her new husband. She wondered if Reed had ever really noticed the scent.

  They had made love again in the tub and then in her bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  He had whispered words of need, of want, but not of love.

  Deftly, as she braided her hair, the recollection of his strong hands, of the care he took as he had washed her hair for her, nearly took her breath away.

  What will I say to him?

  How should I act?

  As she tied a black ribbon around her braid, she suddenly remembered that Charm was in Lone Star. Dear Saint Perpetua, there was breakfast to be made!

  She found her shoes under the bed, struggled to pull them on. The leather was cracked and dusty, the heels worn down on the outer edges. She struggled buttoning them up and then flew down the hall.

  Daniel wasn’t in his room. The bed was unmade, his dirty clothes lay in a heap on the floor, the dresser drawers were open.

  Not again.

  She rushed to the open window, drew aside the thin muslin curtain, and sagged with relief against the window frame when she saw Daniel currying Reed’s horse in the corral.

  Although she didn’t see Reed anywhere, Scrappy stood close by, alternately repairing a section of fence and glancing at Daniel.

  She went downstairs, expecting to find Reed. There was a pile of dirty dishes and a frying pan with a coat of egg stuck to the bottom, but no Reed. When she stepped out the back door and called to Scrappy, he motioned toward the front of the house.

  Standing beneath the shade of the wide veranda, she debated whether to go find him or to put it off. She could take the coward’s way out and go back to the kitchen, make breakfast, and wait for him to find her, or she could track him down.

  Whatever she decided, sooner or later she was going to have to face him. Sooner or later they were going to have to talk about last night.

  It was another hot, dry day. Not yet ten in the morning, and it already felt hot enough to bake bread outside. She walked around the veranda to the front. Sure enough, Reed was there, standing beside the hitching post, staring down the road.

  Kate followed his gaze and recognized Gideon and Winifred Greene’s buggy as it came up the drive.

  Although she was loath to see them again, at least with the advent of the Greenes’ arrival there would be no time to speak of last night. Smoothing down the front of her gown, Kate walked over to the steps. Reed heard her and turned around.

  His jaw was set. There was tension in his stance, but at least when he looked up at her, he smiled.

  “Good morning, Kate.”

  The sound of his voice held the power of a caress. Her knees went weak, but somehow she managed to walk down the steps and cross to where he was standing. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she concentrated on the buggy already halfway up the road.

  “They must have started out before dawn.” He was standing beside her.

  “I was afraid we hadn’t seen the last of them.”

  “The last thing I need is them bothering Daniel right now.” He looked down at her again. “Let me handle this, Kate.”

  “Do you mean don’t talk?”

  He smiled again. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Gideon turned the rig and set the brake. Reed and Kate crossed the yard to meet them as Gideon gave Winifred a hand climbing down. She was spry for her age, still wearing the same dour expression as when Kate first met her. It matched her somber clothes.

  “We didn’t realize you were here,” Gideon told Reed without any word of greeting.

  “I’ve taken over running the ranch.” He paused and then casually slipped his arm around Kate’s shoulders.

  Surprised by such an outward display, Kate started to pull away until he squeezed her shoulder.

  “You’ve already met my wife, Kate,” he said.

  As one, the Greenes looked her up and down from head to toe.

  “We have, the day we . . .” Gideon began.

  “. . . came for Daniel and she turned us away,” Winifred finished. “Real hard to believe you remarried, Reed.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Kate could tell he did not care for the Greenes any more than she did.

  “After what happened to our poor Becky, it’s a wonder you could find anyone who’d want you.” Gideon rocked forward on his toes and then back on his heels.

  “But then, she’s not from around here, as I recall.” Winifred was staring at Reed’s hand on Kate’s shoulder. “We came to see our grandson. We’ve got a right to see him.”

  “You certainly do,” Reed acknowledged with a firm nod. “But not today. He’s still getting settled in, and I don’t want him upset.”

  Gideon’s eyes hardened. “We went to town. Found out one of those whores is living here, too . . .”

  “. . . and we don’t want the boy brought up around filth.” Winifred primly folded her hands at her waist.

  Reed kept a firm hold on Kate now. She was not about to let them malign Charm, but neither was Reed.

  “Who I hire is none of your business,” he said.

  “Where is the boy?” Gideon craned his neck as if he could see around the width of the house.

  “Working out back.”

  “When we saw him a few weeks ago he couldn’t even speak English.”

  “He’s still pretty quiet.” Reed glanced down at Kate and quickly looked away.

  She bit her lips and stared at the ground.

  Gideon appeared to be gathering his courage. He tugged on the hem of his jacket, held his hand over his heart. “I won’t beat around the bush, Reed. Winifred and I want that boy. You owe it to us to hand him over. He was Becky’s boy after all, and since we don’t have her anymore, we want to raise him. We figure it’ll just be a matter of time before you take off again to rejoin the Rangers. You never wanted anything to do with this place.”

  Winifred picked up where he left off. “You got a new wife now. You and her will have a family of your own. Pretty soon, Daniel will wind up being the stepson around here. Why not give him to us . . .”

  “. . . so we can bring him up proper?” Gideon finished.

  Kate realized she had been holding her breath until Reed let go of her shoulder and took a step toward them. “Daniel is my son. He belongs to me, and he’s staying right here on Lone Star. I’d appreciate it if you left now, because like I said, I don’t want him upset. He’s just settling down.” He paused, collected himself. “That’s not to say you aren’t welcome to visit some other time.”

  Kate was so very, very glad to hear him claim the boy that it was a moment or two before she realized he was already helping Winifred back into the high-sprung buggy.

  Kate wished she were relieved to see them go, but now that she
was alone with Reed again, she had no idea what to say or do.

  Reed took off his hat, wiped his forehead with his shirt-sleeve, and tried not to let the encounter with the Greenes haunt him. They were gone, hopefully for a long, long while. They had every right to visit Daniel, but after the way Becky turned out, there was no way he wanted the boy around them for any length of time.

  They still blamed him for Becky’s death and always would, but since in many ways he still blamed himself, he couldn’t fault them for that.

  Kate was still standing by the hitching post, watching the buggy rattle down the lane. He took a deep breath and wished what he was about to do would go as easy as his confrontation with the Greenes.

  He walked back to where Kate was standing in her pretty flowered dress, looking radiant. He had never seen her more beautiful or more uncertain.

  “Will you come up to the office with me, Kate?”

  She paused, fingering the end of her braid. “What about Daniel?”

  “Scrappy will keep an eye on him.” Reed started toward the house. “Come with me, please.” When he realized she had not budged, he added, “Just to talk.”

  “How is Daniel? I was surprised to see him outside.”

  “It’s like he’s moving around in his sleep. I dressed him, made him his breakfast. He picked at some eggs but only ate a few mouthfuls. He acts like sad walking.”

  “Can you blame him?”

  He shook his head, holding the door for her. She passed through so close to him that he caught the scent of roses in her hair and shut his eyes. The scent intensified.

  Once they were upstairs, Reed closed the office door. He had made the room his own, from the cluttered desk and the heavy leather chair to a map of Lone Star on the wall behind it. He walked over and opened a drawer, pulled out some folded papers, and then sat on the corner of the desk.

  He held the papers out to her.

  “What are these?” She took them and looked down.

  “The legal documents that Jeb Cooley drew up for us.”

  He waited while she unfolded the pages and quickly scanned them. His signature was already at the bottom of each of them. He wished it weren’t, but he had signed them in Jeb’s office before he had come home.

  He took a deep breath, looked out the window, across the lifts and folds of land, across endless miles of grass and blue sky. The land was everything his father had worked for. Lone Star was synonymous with the Benton name.

  He watched her hand tighten on the corner of the pages. Saw the color drain from her face as she read them. He wished he didn’t owe her total honesty.

  “Let’s stay married, Kate. Don’t sign those papers.” He scratched his jaw, shifted his hip, and tried to think of the right words to say. He thought of the things he had read in her letters, of all the things she wanted out of life.

  “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to love you the way you want, the way you deserve to be loved. I don’t know if I can ever love that way again. But we’re good together. I’d be a fool to deny that, and so would you. Daniel needs a mother. Most of all, he needs a family to pull him out of this.

  “If you tear those up, Kate, no one will ever know those proxy papers were forged. We can even get married before a judge if you want and file new ones. Reverend Marshall might even consent to marry us. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you living in sin.”

  After last night he hoped that she would at least consider his proposal, but seeing her shock and the way her expression shuttered, he realized he had just made one of the most fatal errors of his life.

  44

  The papers in her hand shook when Kate began to tremble all over. The edges of the pages creased where her fingers dug into the them.

  “Let’s stay married.”

  Not for love. For Daniel.

  “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to love you the way you want . . . the way you deserve.”

  Kate looked around the room, needing to sit before she fell down. Reed was beside her instantly, guiding her around the desk to his deep, leather-upholstered chair. She sank into it. The documents, suddenly too heavy to hold, dropped to her lap.

  He wouldn’t stop. He was pacing, waiting for her to answer, listing again his reasons for their remaining married. To him it was as simple as planning a cattle drive.

  She had agreed to the proxy marriage after putting her trust into less than a dozen letters. She had believed in a paper dream.

  That’s all it was.

  A paper dream.

  The legal pages lay open in her lap—more paper. At some point Reed had signed them, wanting to be rid of her. Now he was asking her to tear them up, to ignore his bold dark signature, ignore the fact that he could never cherish her as a husband should cherish a wife. As she would surely cherish him.

  If she agreed to stay, she would have the house she always wanted, even marriage and a family—but the foundation of their union would be false. Nothing about it would be real, except for her own one-sided love for Reed, her unshakable love for Daniel, and whatever love the boy might come to have for her.

  Would it be enough? Could it be enough?

  If only there was a hint in Reed’s eyes, even a distant glimmer of hope for the kind of love and regard that Preston felt for her. There was adoration in the preacher’s eyes when he looked at her, an offering of the kind of love Reed did not consider himself capable of.

  Oh, but what of last night in his arms?

  Her body wanted him and no other. But could her spirit survive living with him as a lover, but never truly loved?

  Across the room, Reed watched her intently. She gave him credit for not trying to seduce her into tearing up the documents, blessed him for not using the power of seduction to cajole her. Then again, perhaps he might not know how easily she would have acquiesced if he touched her, kissed her, begged her not to sign.

  Somehow she found the strength to lift the papers again. She got to her feet. There was a pot of ink and a pen with a nib conveniently lying on the desk.

  She reached out.

  “Kate—”

  Dipping the pen into the crystal pot, she fought looking at him. The tip of the nib disappeared into the dark India ink. She pulled it out, quickly signed her name, and then picked up a rocking blotter and rolled it over her signature. She dipped, signed, and blotted until all three copies were done.

  When she stepped back and tried to hand him the papers, he would not take them, so she laid them out on the desk. She was forced to swallow twice before any words would come.

  “I made a terrible mistake once, Reed. There is enough of a dreamer left in me to want to marry for love the next time. I want it all, not just the trappings. Not just a fine house and security, but the love that should dwell inside that home. I want a husband who can offer both commitment and love.” She took a deep breath, forced herself to stay calm. “Do you really think that the lust we gave in to last night would be enough to hold us together forever?”

  “That’s already a hell of a lot more than some marriages are built on.” He was angry now, doing nothing to hide it.

  “But that’s not enough for me. Not anymore. You know that I love Daniel.” She willed herself not to cry, to stay strong. “Because I love him, I want what’s best for him. He needs you to be a real father to him, and as long as I’m here, he will come to depend on me again.”

  And I on you.

  Waiting and hoping for something you can’t give.

  “Maybe Daniel would even . . . maybe he would eventually come to love me. I can’t let him begin to think of me as his mother. He is so very vulnerable now,” she said.

  “All the more reason you should consider my offer.”

  “All the more reason I have to leave.”

  “Leave?”

  She looked out the window. It was still early. Not yet noon. She could be in town before the afternoon was through—if she packed and left right away.

  “Yes. I’m leaving.”
<
br />   “When?”

  “Today. As soon as I can.”

  Before I change my mind.

  Before you do or say something that will make me stay.

  “You’re pretty calm about this, Kate. When exactly did you decide you were leaving? Last night after we made love the first time? Or after the last? Or was it when you called out my name when I came inside you? When exactly did you decide you didn’t want to be here anymore?”

  She thought of Sofia and of all the years she had given Reed Senior, years of loving him, caring for him enough to help him trick a naive young woman and shatter her dreams.

  “Fight for what you want here, but not forever.

  “Try, Señora, but do not waste your life waiting for Reed Benton to fall in love with you.”

  Under no circumstances, not even for Daniel, would she let herself become another Sofia.

  “I agreed to stay on as a hired housekeeper, but what happened last night changed all of that completely.” The ink on the pages was dry. She took a copy for herself, left one for Reed and one for the lawyer to file.

  Would she ever see him again? She couldn’t be sure, so she took a long last look into his eyes, at his mouth, his hands. Memories were all she would have to treasure. Memories and the photograph his father had sent her.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go ask Scrappy if he will take me into Lone Star. Then I’ll pack . . . and tell Daniel good-bye.”

  Stunned, Reed watched her walk away. After last night, he had been sure she would agree to stay married, if not because of how good it had been between them, then surely for Daniel’s sake.

  But Kate wanted more. More than he could promise, and he wasn’t about to lie to her, not when he knew that she deserved better. Hell, she deserved someone like the preacher.

  So, he let her go. Through the window, he watched her walk out into the stable area and stop beside Daniel. She touched his hair, gently laid her hand on his shoulder and stood beside him for a while, offering silent companionship. Finally, she left him and walked over to Scrappy.

  The old cowhand planted his hands on his hips and twice emphatically shook his head no. She kept talking until he rolled his eyes and finally nodded. Then Kate came back toward the house. Scrappy paused to watch her walk away, shook his head once more. Then the old wrangler picked up his hammer and moved on down the fence line.