“I’m talking about my wife, not your wife, Trace,” Tye said with disgust. He drummed his fingers along the padded arm of the leather upholstered chair. “You know what she’s doing? Among other things I’m too polite to mention, the woman is sending me gifts. Courting gifts. Embroidered handkerchiefs. A new pocket knife. This morning I found a bouquet of posies on my damned pillow when I woke up.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Trace leaned back in his chair and linked his fingers behind his head, elbows outstretched. “Gifts are nice. I could use a new pocket knife myself. Shoot, I wouldn’t even mind flowers from Jenny. They’d be a helluva lot better than the buckets of tears I’m getting these days.”
Trace snagged the Blessings’ candy box off their father’s desk and opened it. “Well it was pur-dee stupid of you to make a crack about an elephant to a pregnant woman. You should have known better.”
“Yeah, well,” he grumbled. “She’s not the only one who is anxious about this baby.”
“True, but she’s the one who has been toting your kid around all this time. She has good reason to be acting a bit touchy. My wife doesn’t.” He chose a peppermint stick and returned the box to the desk.
“Oh, really?” Trace drawled, going for a piece of candy for himself. “Her husband moves out of her bed before she’s been married a month and she has nothing to get upset about? I don’t think so, Brother.” After a moment’s pause, he added, “What the hell is the matter with you?”
Tye stopped mid-lick on his candy. “Just let it go, Trace.”
“No, I don’t think I will.” Trace popped a lemon drop into his mouth. “This is my house. You’re miserable. Claire is miserable. It makes me miserable to look at you.” The look on his face turned sour and frustration sounded in his voice. “Dammit, Tye, y’all hardly speak, but the looks you give each other on the sly are hot enough to peel the paint from the walls. Why are you doing this to yourself? Why are you doing it to me?” He crunched his candy, swallowed, and said, “I haven’t had sex in a month.”
“Sounds like a personal problem to me.”
“Well, it is my problem, but you aren’t making it any easier.” Trace took a second piece of candy and slapped the box closed. “Since I married Jenny, I’d gotten accustomed to frequent relations. Pregnancy is hard on a man, you know, and all this…this…tension in the house keeps a man’s mind on something he ought not to be thinking about when he’s got a good month or two left to sweat.”
Tye pointed his peppermint stick toward his brother. “I thought the baby was due any time now.”
“I’m not talking about the baby. I’m talking about sex and why neither one of us is getting any. At least I have a damned good excuse. What the hell is yours?”
At that point, Tye didn’t know whether to deck him or drink with him. Observing the wild look in his brother’s eyes and understanding his frustration—after all, he was suffering himself—he took a good lick of his candy and said, “Trace, do you remember Lieutenant Jenkins? Red-headed and covered with freckles.”
Trace nodded. “He got killed at Chickamauga, didn’t he?”
“Nope. Bought it at the Wilderness. Anyway, he had a saying I think fits this situation. Jenkins used to say that a man has two emotions: horny and hungry. Now, neither one of us can do much about the first at the moment, but it’s nigh on to noon and the Green Parrot Saloon serves a beefsteak special on Wednesdays. Besides, your daughters got into my root beer last night, and I need to restock my supply. What do ya say, want to buy me dinner?”
“No, but you can buy mine.”
Forty minutes and two rounds of root beer later, the McBride brothers sat at a table in the Green Parrot finishing up their meal. Their bickering over who should pay the charges ended when Big Jack Bailey and a pair of Lucky Lady ranch wranglers walked through the door, giving Trace his first opportunity since returning to town for a personal “discussion” with Bailey concerning his part in the love-potion mishap.
Because the rancher had been good to the girls once he sobered up, Trace had decided not to kill him. But because Bailey had kidnapped them to begin with, he had some trouble coming to him. Besides, Trace and his brother both needed a good fight.
It proved to be a most welcome distraction. The McBride brothers dusted the floor with Bailey and his minions.
“Damn, I feel better,” Trace said when the fisticuffs were finished. He wiped the blood dripping from a cut on his chin onto his shirtsleeve, flexed his bruised and scraped hands, and grinned. “Nothing like a little fight when a fella can’t…you know.”
Tye finished checking the status of his teeth with his tongue, then stuck a finger through a knife slit in his shirt and checked the skin beneath for blood. “You should have handled your visit with the Wests this way instead of making those calm, cold demands.”
“Nah. As much as I’d like to knock Beatrice’s teeth down her throat, I couldn’t hit a woman. I did get to tell them both what I thought of them, though, and sending them packing was pleasurable enough.”
“You know, I like trains,” Tye observed, dusting off his filthy pants. “They come in awfully handy for getting rid of enemies.” He gazed around the saloon and added, “We’re gonna owe the proprietor some money for the chairs we busted.”
His brother waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. It was worth it. Bailey should be glad I gave him nothing more than a broken nose after he messed with my Menaces. Hell, he’s lucky I don’t let Jenny loose on him. As mean as she’s feeling these days, she’d at least have broken a rib or two.”
Accepting the raw steak one of the dancers brought him for his rapidly swelling eye, Trace plopped it against his face and added, “I must say, that lie you told him about Claire and her Magic hex was inspired. On top of the threat of Jenny’s voodoo curse, he’ll be checking the color of his—” Trace broke off abruptly midsentence. “Emmaline Suzanne McBride! What in tarnation are you doing in Hell’s Half Acre?”
Tye jerked his head around toward the saloon’s swinging front doors just as Maribeth and Katrina burst into the building on the heels of their older sister. “You have to come, Papa,” Emma pleaded.
“Hurry, Papa!” Maribeth shouted. “You must hurry.”
Katrina hopped up and down. “Come on, Papa. Come on!”
Trace shoved to his feet, the beefsteak hanging forgotten in his hand. “What’s the matter, girls? What’s wrong?”
The three children hollered together. “It’s the baby!”
Trace’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “The baby?” he squeaked.
“Mama’s having the baby.”
“You’ve gotta come quick!”
Tye and the girls tore out of the Green Parrot, then skidded to a halt as they realized they’d left Trace behind. Dashing back in, Tye found his brother glued to his spot, silently mouthing the words “having the baby” over and over again. Tye muttered a curse, then yanked his brother’s arm. “Put some git in your gitalong, Brother, or you’ll miss this whole show.”
“She’s having the baby.”
Tye snorted, tugged the steak from Trace’s hand, and slapped him with it. That managed to get the father-to-be moving, and soon they raced neck-and-neck on a sprint through the Acre, Emma, Maribeth, and Katrina following at their heels.
***
CLAIRE REMOVED the cool cloth from Jenny’s forehead and stepped away as Trace burst into the room. “Where’s the doctor? Honey, are you all right? Did you have it yet?”
In the waning moments of a contraction, Jenny cut her eyes toward her husband and snarled. “Get him out of here!”
Even as she wondered about the bruises painting her brother-in-law’s face, Claire couldn’t help but smile at his shocked expression. He’d had no warning, of course. He had not been here to hear his wife call him a selection of mean-spirited names for getting her in this condition. But, as Trace would soon see, Jenny did that only during her contractions. In between times she called for him, desperately wanting him to be wit
h her and hold her hand.
The labor had come on quickly, and Jenny had demanded that the girls summon the doctor before their father. The physician had arrived a short time ago and confirmed what Claire and Jenny had both suspected. This was shaping up to be an extremely fast delivery for a first-time mother.
Over the course of the next half hour, Claire sponged Jenny’s brow as Trace hurried into and out of the room on his laboring wife’s strident demands. With every entrance and exit, signs of his frustration grew until finally, when the pains were hitting Jenny about a minute apart and she was yelling some particularly unflattering things about him, he exploded with frustration. “Dammit, my love, I’ve worn out the damned door hinges, and I’m staying put. Now, let’s get this over with. I’m tired.”
Lying prone in her bed, Jenny actually took a swing at him.
Their son was born five minutes later.
While a bathed and dressed William Wesley McBride was introduced to his adoring sisters and relieved uncle, Claire slipped from the room and made her way downstairs to the parlor. Seeing that precious little bundle another minute longer was more than a woman rejected by her man could stand. She’d done her feminine duty by helping Jenny during the labor, but now was family time. She didn’t belong.
She was beginning to think she would never belong.
For more than a week now, she’d worked her wiles on her husband. For more than a week, he’d resisted. She’d tried everything from seduction to sedition. He ignored everything.
Yesterday had been the worst. She’d had the bright idea to tell him she loved him every time their paths crossed. By noon he had been going out of his way to avoid her. By suppertime, he’d taken to hiding in his room. With the door locked.
“Scaredy-cat,” she’d called from the hallway. He hadn’t bothered to deny it. He hadn’t bothered with anything at all.
Now, standing at the parlor window and gazing outside, she watched a pair of squirrels scamper along the front lawn. From upstairs came the sweet music of an infant cry, quickly hushed, then the delighted laughter of the three McBride girls. The sound pierced Claire’s heart like an arrow.
The new parents’ display of love, joy, and devotion made it impossible for Claire to ignore the likelihood that she had been living a fool’s dream. Tye cared about her. Of that much, she was certain. But as Trace and Jenny exemplified, caring and loving were two very different things. If the fear she sensed in Tye was stronger than his feelings for her, perhaps she fought an unwinnable war.
Maybe the time had come to let the dream go.
“Claire?” Tye’s voice washed over her like a warm tide in winter.
Bracing herself, she turned. “Yes?”
He drew a deep breath. “I just wanted to thank you for helping Jenny. She said having a woman with her— having you with her—was a comfort.”
“I was happy to be of help. It was a magical moment to be part of.”
“Yeah, I imagine it was.” He walked toward her. “Have you ever witnessed a birth before?”
“Just kittens. Never a baby.” Praying her voice wouldn’t break, she added, “Isn’t he beautiful?”
Skepticism twisted his mouth, and worry dimmed his eyes. Lowering his voice, he asked, “Do you think babies all have that…sort of…monkey look to them?”
Claire found the expression on his face so comical that she spoke without thinking. “He’s a beautiful little boy and don’t you dare say a word otherwise. Just wait until you have a newborn child. Then you’ll see—”
He cut her off in a cold hard tone that matched the look in his eyes. “Are you telling me something, Claire?”
Fissures of pain crept across the surface of her heart. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Thank God.”
His fervor hurt, driving home to her how little progress she had made in the past week. Numbness spread slowly throughout her. “Are you afraid of me, Tye? Is that it? Do I threaten you in a way I don’t understand?”
He clenched a fist. “Claire, don’t. Not now.”
Even as he spoke, she shook her head. “Yes, now. I think now is the perfect time. We have just witnessed an event that is the very essence of what love and family is all about. I can’t think of a more appropriate moment to discuss it.”
“There is nothing to discuss,” he snapped, whirling away from her, storming across the room to stand gazing out the window. “We’ve said it all. Just let it go.”
She almost did. Upstairs, the baby started crying and Claire almost fled the room, the house, her husband, so much did the blessed sound bring heartache to her soul. But to her own surprise, she stayed. The love she felt for this man gave her the strength to demand her due, to force the issue one more time.
“You didn’t explain why you’re so dead set on ending this marriage. I deserve to know that, Tye. I deserve to hear the words.”
“Damnit, Claire, don’t you see?” His head dropped back, his face lifted toward the ceiling. His words sounded pulled from his soul. “You don’t deserve anything I have to give you. You deserve so goddamn much more.”
“And what’s that, Tye?” She marched over to him, gripped his sleeve and tugged. “You answer me, Tye McBride. You tell me the truth. What do I deserve, love? Is that it? Love?” Voice cracking, she demanded, “Why won’t you love me?”
A shudder wracked him. He met her gaze. Emotions swirled in the deep green current. Agony. Anguish. Hopelessness.
“Oh, Tye.” Even she heard the pity in her tone.
He jerked as if she’d struck him. “Fine,” he said, yanking away from her, his eyes shooting fire. “You want to know the truth? I’ll tell you the truth. I won’t love you because I can’t love you. I don’t have it in me to love you. That’s asking more from me than I have to give.”
Inside, Claire began to crumble. She wanted to shout, Liar, Liar. Every act this man did shouted of his ability to love. His Blessings. His brother. Why couldn’t he see it?
As fast as it had occurred, his fury died. “You need to get on with your life, Claire. You have so much to offer a man. You’re sweet and generous and smart and so damned beautiful. You deserve the very best life has to offer. And believe me, sugar, that ain’t me.”
He was wrong, so wrong. Claire’s body trembled and she wrapped her arms around herself.
Tye muttered a curse and again his head dropped back. He gazed at the ceiling for a long moment before he calmly met her gaze. “If I could love any woman—make a family with any woman—that woman would be you, Claire. But I can’t love you. I’m cold inside. I’m dead inside. I just can’t love you. You must believe me. I want you to be free to find someone who can give you what you want and need. What you deserve.”
Claire never knew pain could feel this way. Hollow and cold. So empty. Expanding. Bigger and bigger until it threatened to consume her.
Tye cleared his throat “That’s why I pray my lack of discipline and restraint doesn’t bear fruit. I’m not the right man to give you babies. Hopefully that won’t be an issue and we can call this marriage quits. Soon. It’s better for us both that way.”
His words pierced like bullets, shattering her heart. Nothing she’d done had mattered. She’d failed at flirtation, at temptation, at seduction. No demonstration of wifely skills captured his notice, and thus, his heart.
He wanted to call the marriage quits. He wanted to run in spite of all she had to offer, and she had offered him her best. Maybe she had been wrong, and he wasn’t afraid to be happy. Maybe he told the truth.
Claire nearly doubled over from the pain. Tye didn’t love her. Never once had he said the words, not even when she barraged him with declarations of her own love. He had stated just the opposite, in fact. I can’t love you. She’d heard the words. Perhaps the time had come to accept them. Perhaps the time had come to let go.
No matter how much it hurt.
Then, like a bugle call, again came the sound of little Billy’s cry. For Claire it was the signal for surrende
r.
“This morning.” It came out as a dry, cracked whisper. She hadn’t wanted to share this news, tempted to give herself—give them—a little more time. Now she recognized the fallacy of her thinking. Tye refused to love her.
She didn’t want him unless he did. He was right about that. She did deserve her husband’s love.
Gearing her throat, she tried again. “This morning. I learned…it didn’t…we didn’t. She exhaled a fierce, heavy breath. “I do not carry your child. There is no baby. I’ll move out of Willow Hill immediately.”
“No baby?” Tye repeated in a strangled voice.
“No baby.”
He closed his eyes. Half a minute passed before he said, “It’s over then.”
Tears clogged her throat, so she nodded rather than spoke. Over.
He sucked in a shuddering breath. “I’ll take care of the legalities. Might even be able to get it wrapped up this afternoon. And I don’t want you worrying about leaving Willow Hill. I know Trace won’t mind you staying here as long as you need, and I won’t be here to get in your way. With the baby safely here and everything settled with Trace, I’ll be returning to Charleston just as soon as I can make the arrangements.”
“What about the ranch?” she managed to ask.
He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll deed it over to the Blessings. Never was all that het up about ranching anyway.”
After that, there seemed little left to say. They stood awkwardly for a moment, then Claire said, “I think I’ll go up and check on the girls. They might need a little attention right about now.”
“Good idea.”
Claire picked up her skirts and all but dashed from the room, bumping into Trace as she went about it. “Excuse me,” she said, glancing up at him, fighting back her tears.
He was staring past her into the parlor, his scowl filled with disgust and focused on his brother. “You have no need for excuses, honey,” Trace gently replied. “Not like somebody else I know.”
The Bad Luck Wedding Cake Page 35