Slowly, she began to slide away, but Cal’s arm tightened. “Don’t get up,” he growled.
She smiled against his chest. “Not an option.”
He was silent. Finally, he said, “Dammit, you’re right,” in a grumpy tone that made her laugh aloud as she walked into the bathroom.
She was downstairs making the coffee when she remembered the dream. She’d been in the closet of her apartment in Rapid City again, her heart pounding so loud she thought the man who’d just walked through the hallway could hear her.
“Where’s the woman?” It was a stranger’s voice, muttering as if to himself.
Wayne didn’t answer. She thought she knew why. He was dead, shot by the person walking through her home.
The footsteps moved farther from her hiding place, back the hall toward the bedroom. She could hear the man whistling—whistling!—under his breath.
The bathroom door at the very end of the hall creaked open, and she knew that if she was going to get out, she had to go now while she had as great a lead as possible. Silently, praying that the door hadn’t developed a creak, she pushed it ajar just far enough to slip through. Her keys were on the hook right beside the door, thank God, and she clutched them in her fist as she eased open the front door.
“Hey!” It was a rough masculine voice, and she jumped a foot in the air. Automatically she slammed the door behind her. No sense in worrying about noise now. Maybe it would slow him down a little. Her old truck, all she’d been able to afford after the divorce, was parked right in front of the apartment, and she sprinted down the steps, missing half of them and nearly breaking her neck. She could hear her pursuer shouting as she wrenched open the door and jammed the key into the ignition and then the sound of his shoes slapping the sidewalk as he ran. Her breath was coming in hitches, sobs of pure terror forcing themselves out of her throat.
She pushed the truck into reverse—
And suddenly a hand slapped against the glass of the driver’s side window. She screamed and pushed the gas pedal hard and the truck shot backward all the way out of the parking lot and onto the street. Shoving at the gearshift again, she managed to get it into drive and slammed her foot onto the pedal again, squealing down the street and out of the neighborhood like a teenager in a souped-up hot rod.
And that was it. All she remembered. She’d never seen the face of the man who’d murdered Wayne and surely would have killed her. She still didn’t know why she’d driven all the way to her old home, and she might never.
And the detectives from Rapid City would continue to believe she’d killed her ex-husband.
And so would Cal.
That thought was too hurtful to acknowledge, so she ignored it. She wondered why the detectives were so reluctant to believe her. She supposed it was their duty to consider her a suspect until she had an ironclad alibi, and she was certain they’d already have slammed her into a jail cell if not for Cal’s intervention. Their attitudes made Joe Parker, the local sheriff, seem sweet.
Cal came in, and she handed him the coffee she’d just poured, then finished the French toast she’d been frying, sliding the last pieces on a plate and retrieving the syrup from the microwave where she’d heated it. She took her seat at the table at the same time Cal did.
As he transferred several pieces of bacon to his plate, he asked, “Do you remember having any dreams last night?”
His voice was too casual, and immediately her mental defenses went up. What had she said or done in her sleep? Carefully, she kept her eyes on her plate as she shrugged. “Not really. Why?” Cal hadn’t believed her when she’d told him someone else was involved in Wayne’s murder, and she couldn’t forget that.
He shrugged, too, but he was watching her closely. “No special reason. You were a little restless.” Then his face relaxed and he grinned. “This time yesterday,” he said in a thoughtful voice, “we weren’t married yet.”
She smiled, pleased that he seemed to have accepted her answer. “This time yesterday we weren’t planning on getting married yesterday!”
He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m glad we did.” He reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb over the rings he’d given her. “This is a pretty comfortable arrangement, isn’t it?”
Comfortable. She managed a nod, though there was an ache in her heart that nearly took her breath. She didn’t want to be comfortable, darn it! She wanted to be loved.
When she realized what she’d just admitted to herself, she spoke unthinkingly. “Oh, boy.”
“What?” He looked at her curiously.
“Nothing,” she said hastily. She withdrew her hand from his and picked up her fork. Idiot! she berated herself. Why can’t you be happy with what you have? She didn’t know the answer to that. She could survive with what she and Cal had between them, she knew, because she’d survived far worse. And she could even be reasonably happy this way, living with and loving the man. But she didn’t want to be reasonably happy. She wanted to be deliriously, ridiculously ecstatic about her marriage and her husband.
Other women had it; why shouldn’t she? She glanced at Cal as he cut his French toast into squares, his eyes far away. He was thinking about the day’s work, she knew. If only he were thinking of her. He cared about her, she was sure. And he was attracted to her, of that she also was sure. Could those things mature into love?
Hope bloomed within her as they finished the meal, and when he looked up and caught her eyes on him, she gave him a blinding smile.
He stared for a second, then his eyes narrowed in the way she was growing to know so well.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, scrambling to her feet and starting toward the sink with her dishes. “We have to brand those last few calves this morning, remember?”
He came up behind her with his own dishes, setting them on the counter and trapping her with his body. He was hard and already aroused, and she felt her insides turn to jelly as he dropped his head and nuzzled at her ear. “There are only three,” he said. “We have time.”
She turned to face him, allowing her hands to slip between them and start to work on his belt buckle. “You’re right. Besides, we’re newlyweds.”
His surprise showed in his eyes, but he was quick to take her up on her ready acceptance. “We’ll have to think of another excuse when that one gets old,” he informed her as his mouth came down on hers.
The calves were branded, castrated and vaccinated a little later than Cal had planned that morning. But if any of the hands wondered why the boss was running late, nobody was brave enough to ask.
The next several days were quiet and routine. A couple of bulls went missing and had to be brought home, the calves they were weaning began to eat cake, a buffalo from the neighboring outfit knocked down a pile of McCall fences on a morning stroll. Lyn loved the outdoor work, especially anything that gave her a chance to ride. But she made sure she didn’t neglect the inside of the house. Cal had hired her to keep his house clean and feed him well, and she wasn’t going to change that now that they were married.
She defrosted a big pumpkin and used it to make two pies and loaves of pumpkin bread, cooked off a chicken and made a big pot of chicken noodle soup and put together two beef casseroles, which she froze for branding time or a busy day, whichever came first.
The next afternoon, she called Cal’s mother and invited her to dinner again.
“Why, thank you, dear. That would be lovely. I have to leave the day after next.” Cora Lee hesitated. “Does Cal know you called?”
Lyn cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Not specifically, no, but I know he’ll be delighted.”
His mother’s laugh was genuine. “You and I both know that’s a fib, Lyn McCall.” Her voice grew firm and serious. “But I’m coming anyway. I intend to be a part of your lives whether he likes it or not. His children aren’t going to grow up without knowing I love them.”
Lyn had a lump in her throat. She wondered again what had happened between Cal’s parents. Cora Lee
hadn’t wanted to leave her son behind, Lyn was certain, despite what Cal thought.
When he came in to wash up, she told him his mother was coming over for dinner. “She’s what? Let me guess. She called and invited herself again.” Cal so rarely spoke sarcastically that Lyn’s gaze flew to his face. Her hands stilled over the pumpkin bread she was slicing.
“No,” she said slowly. “I called her. She leaves in two days and I thought you’d like—”
“You thought wrong.” His voice was cold. “That woman left my father and me without a backward glance. Then when her nice, neat socially acceptable little world was stable again she remembered me. It’s a little late for a devoted mother act.”
Lyn bowed her head. The fragile sense of contentment she’d been feeling for the past several days shriveled and died. “I’m sorry. Shall I call and cancel?”
There was a tense silence in the kitchen. Finally, Cal heaved a sigh. “No. No, don’t cancel it. I suppose I can endure one more meal with my mother before she sails away again, never to return.”
“But—” Lyn’s head came up. “Cal, she’s coming back when Silver’s baby is born. And she’ll come on a regular basis to see her grandchildren, I’m sure. When our children are born—”
“When our children are born that woman’s not staying here.” His voice was adamant. “And I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for her to come back and visit. You’ll die of lack of oxygen.”
Lyn didn’t see that there was anything she could say that wouldn’t infuriate Cal, so she chose silence as a better course of action. Cal stomped up the steps to shower and change, and she finished slicing the bread with shaking hands.
He was done in the shower by the time she went upstairs to take her own shower. After she was done, she began getting the meal organized. He came out of the office a few minutes later and snatched his hat off the peg, then took down the truck keys. “I’ll be back with your guest in a few minutes,” he said, not even looking at her before he went out the back door.
Lyn’s heart sank. Was he going to be this difficult all evening? It would certainly be an awkward meal if he was. She ached for him. Beneath the cold facade with which he dealt with his mother was a little boy who still wondered why she’d left him behind. Cal was normally the kindest of men; only an emotional reaction this strong would make him behave this way.
True to his word, he was back in a few minutes, and as Lyn welcomed Cora Lee into the house, she was relieved to note that he once again wore the cool but affable face he usually presented to his mother.
“It’s cold out there,” he said as he helped her out of her coat. “We’ll have to chop ice again tomorrow morning.”
“Cal was telling me that you helped with the branding,” his mother said, rubbing her hands together to warm them. She shook her head. “I admire you, dear.”
“Lyn’s tough. She’ll make a good ranch wife.” Cal’s voice was expressionless, but the color drained from Cora Lee’s face. She bit her lip as the implied criticism hung in the air.
Frowning at Cal, Lyn thrust a bowl of vegetables into his hands. “Here. Set these on the table, please.” She put an arm around his mother’s shoulders and guided her to a seat. “I was born and raised here,” she said. “Actually, I wasn’t raised so much as I was dragged up. My mother died when I was young, and my father didn’t know what to do with a little girl.”
Cora Lee smiled. “He did a fine job.”
Thankfully, Lyn was saved from responding to that when Cal took his seat and began to pass the dishes. The meal went better than she’d expected, though she talked more than normal and she was very aware of the prolonged silences that fell when she stopped directing the conversation.
Cora Lee watched Cal with a hungry intensity that was painful for Lyn to see. She appeared almost to be memorizing everything she could about him.
Cal, in turn, either didn’t see his mother’s scrutiny or chose to ignore it. Lyn wasn’t certain which it was. When he’d scarfed down his second piece of pie and the meal ended, Cal rose from the table and stood with one big hand on the back of his chair.
“You’ll have to excuse me, ladies. I have some office work that can’t wait.” He looked across the table at his mother, and his eyes were as cool and hard as granite. “I’ll be happy to take you back to Silver’s whenever you like.” Then he turned and left the room.
A heavy silence filled the void he left.
Finally, Cora Lee said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to interfere with his routine. I’m sure he’s terribly busy getting this place to rights again.” Her soft Southern drawl was more slurred than usual, and Lyn realized the older woman was fighting tears.
“He’s not that busy,” she said sharply. “He’s being terribly rude. Can I apologize for him?”
His mother shook her head. “No need.” She sighed and ran a gentle finger around the rim of her glass. “I understand how hurt he must have been as a little boy. I just—” She stopped, her breath hitching. Lyn twisted her fingers together in painful knots as she watched Cora Lee win the battle for self-control. “I’m sorry, dear. Perhaps you could just run me back and then I wouldn’t have to bother Cal.”
“Mrs. Jenssen, Cora Lee…” Lyn hesitated. “Have you ever tried to talk to Cal? Explain your side of the story?”
The woman nodded sadly. “He won’t listen. You’ve seen the way he keeps me at a polite distance.”
Lyn had. It drove her crazy. As she’d said to him once, he was lucky that he had a mother at all. And his mother seemed to love him dearly, despite whatever misunderstanding stood between them. Didn’t he have any notion how precious that was? She hesitated again. She wasn’t a person to interfere, but if Cora Lee didn’t tell her about her years on the plains, Lyn might never know. If she had children someday, she’d like them to have a balanced picture. “How did you meet his father?”
Cora Lee smiled the tiniest bit. “I was on vacation with my family. We had toured the Badlands and decided to go to a local rodeo right here in Kadoka. Tom was a contestant in the bronc riding.” She sighed, her eyes going cloudy as she looked back in time. “Honey, I thought he was just about the best-looking man I’d ever come across.”
“Does Cal look like him?”
“Yes.” She linked her fingers and set her hands precisely in her lap, ever the lady. “Yes, he does. Tom was big and dark-haired—the only difference was that he had beautiful blue eyes.”
And Cal had inherited his mother’s.
“Once he batted those eyes at me, I was hooked,” she said, chuckling. “I thought I couldn’t live without him. We ran off to Rapid City the next day and got married.”
Lyn gasped. “The next day?”
Cora Lee nodded. “Can you believe it?”
“What on earth did your parents say?”
“They weren’t pleased. But I was eighteen and headstrong and in love with the sexiest cowboy God ever made and I wasn’t sorry. Not even when my daddy said he’d disinherit me.” She looked down at her hands. “No, I wasn’t sorry then.”
There was another silence in the kitchen. Lyn caught Cora Lee’s eye. Softly, she said, “What happened?”
The other woman sighed. “Tom was nine years older than I was. He already had this place, but it was pretty rough then. He brought me back here to live and…”
“And you quickly learned that a cowboy works from sunup to sundown and expects his wife to do the same thing.”
“It wasn’t only that,” Cal’s mother said in her soft Southern drawl. “I didn’t mind the cooking and the cleaning. But I never saw Tom except at night.” To Lyn’s amazement, she blushed. “Those nights surely were fine, but little by little, the isolation got to me. I hardly ever saw other women because Tom was just starting his outfit and we weren’t wealthy.” She shrugged. “We only had the one truck so I rarely got to town and when I did, the local ladies all knew each other and I was a stranger from the East. And I started missing the mountains at home, and trees. It’s
so barren out here.”
Lyn nodded. “I grew up loving this land, but it isn’t easy. And on a blazing summer day when the dust chokes you, you have to love it to put up with it.” She smiled. “I think I’d get claustrophobic living where there are trees and mountains blocking your view. I’m not even real fond of the Black Hills!”
“So you can understand how I felt about the place I was raised.”
“Yes, I think I can.”
“Well, I got pregnant almost right away. I was terribly sick during much of my pregnancy so I was even more isolated— I can remember just crying and crying for home, my mother, anything familiar.”
“You were practically a child,” Lyn said indignantly. “Your husband should have been a little more attentive to your feelings.”
Cora Lee smiled wryly. “It wasn’t all Tom’s fault. The poor man didn’t have a clue how to handle a tearful teenager. And then Cal was born less than a year after we got married.” Her face lit up. “He was the most beautiful little boy. I adored him. And I loved being a mama. But by then, things weren’t so good between Tom and me. He thought I was stuck-up for not wanting to be around the other women. I wasn’t,” she said indignantly, “I was shy. And I still couldn’t get used to the prairie. I hated the snow that was so deep we were stuck here for days. It broke my heart when Tom found calves frozen to death. I watched the horizon constantly in the summer for tornadoes. My flowers died. Hail killed my vegetables.” She snorted. “I wasn’t used to growing my own, anyway, and the hail just added insult to injury….” She trailed off. “I was a pathetic excuse for a wife. In Tom’s eyes, anyway. I think he was sorry he married me.”
Into the silence, Lyn said, “I’m sure he loved you.”
Cora Lee shrugged. “He was attracted to me. I’m not sure about the love.” She rose and began to stack dishes as if she couldn’t bear to be still any longer. “When Cal was almost a year old, I’d had enough. I couldn’t take one more day out here, much less a second winter. I called my daddy and he said I should come home.”
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