“No problem,” Hope said as she backed away. “I’d better get to bed. Tomorrow’s bound to be a busy day.”
Once she was gone, Jake slumped back into the leather chair and stared at the last embers of the fire. He felt sick at heart. He tried to remember whether there had ever been a time when Amanda had made him feel like he’d felt tonight with Hope.
The truth was, Amanda had kept him at arm’s length physically. The rest of the truth was, he hadn’t minded.
He tried to imagine how he would have felt if Hope had rejected his overtures or been indifferent to his kisses.
Devastated. Crushed. Miserably unhappy.
He was a fool, that’s all there was to it. Why was he marrying Amanda Carter when he felt what he felt—and he still wasn’t putting a name to it—for Hope Butler?
Another worrisome thought occurred to him. Something he’d shoved out of his mind ever since his conversation with Amanda.
I don’t want kids right away.
He was thirty-nine. He would be forty before his first child was born even if his wife conceived on their wedding night. And Amanda wanted to wait “a few years.” Till he was forty-four? Forty-five? What if, when they finally started trying for a child, she didn’t get pregnant right away? He might be fifty before his first child was born.
The thought made him unutterably sad. He was jealous of his brothers and sisters who had children to raise and love. He didn’t even have to have children of his own blood. He would be willing to adopt. But Amanda didn’t want the immediate responsibility of children.
He thought of what Hope had said. She loved children, and she would be happy to have one right away. She’d been surprisingly good with Huck and Becky and seemed not at all daunted by the prospect of having a bunch of kids around.
Jake pressed his hands together and pursed his lips. What should he do? The answer to his dilemma seemed so simple. He should break off his engagement to Amanda and marry Hope.
But he knew what it felt like to be thrown aside when you were no longer useful. He couldn’t do that to Amanda and live with himself afterward. The guilt and shame would taint any future relationship with Hope.
Jake dragged himself out of the chair and headed for the stairs. He was going to have to get his head on straight before the next week was over. He was going to have to dedicate himself to making a happy life for himself and for Amanda. Maybe once she saw he was willing to help with any children they had, she would be more willing to bear them sooner. Maybe once they were living together as husband and wife, she would be more comfortable with the sexual aspect of their relationship.
Jake firmly believed that life was what you made of it. He’d created the situation he was in. He had no choice now except to make the best of it.
* * *
HOPE TRIED NOT TO CRY, BUT THE TEARS came anyway. What a fool she was! She should have been more careful around Jake. She’d only wanted to offer comfort, and look what had happened. The kissing had been wonderful. The touching...had been exquisite. But she was so inexperienced, she’d uttered that gasp of pleasure.
Jake had realized what he was doing. And he’d stopped.
She couldn’t honestly say she’d wanted to lose her virginity on a cowhide in front of the fire. But she wouldn’t have been sorry if she had. That damned honor of his. It wasn’t fair to tease her with the possibility of loving her and then back off when things got too hot.
Tears of frustration gave way to tears of anger. Damn Jake Whitelaw! He should have known better. He shouldn’t have given in to temptation, especially when he didn’t intend to follow through to the finish.
Hope should have accepted his offer to call her father to come pick her up. She should have left Jake high and dry with Huck and Becky. Let him have his date with Miss Carter and take the two kids along. At least then Hope would know he wouldn’t be doing with Miss Carter what he’d done with her.
The thought was too painful to contemplate.
Hope didn’t sleep well, and she awoke at the crack of dawn feeling cranky and out of sorts. She headed for the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, figuring it might put her in a better mood before she showered and dressed.
She found Jake there ahead of her.
His hair was still wet from the shower and a single dark curl fell over his forehead. He was leaning back against the sink, a cup of coffee in hand, wearing a crisply ironed shirt and worn Levi’s. He looked like an ad for the Marlboro Man.
Hope felt like a frump. Her hair was a rat’s nest, her mascara was clumped around her eyes, and she was barefoot and still wearing Jake’s oversize long johns.
“Oh, God,” she said. “I just wanted a cup of coffee before I started the day.”
“I wouldn’t be here, except I didn’t think it was fair to take off without giving you another chance to leave.”
She shook her head. “Give me some coffee and I’ll be fine.”
Jake set down his cup and poured her a cup of coffee from the coffeemaker. “Cream or sugar?”
“Both,” she said.
He complied and held the cup out to her. “Here you go.”
She had to take four steps to get close enough to take it from him. She flinched when their fingers touched and some of the coffee sloshed onto his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
He grabbed a dish towel to wipe his hand and said, “It’s nothing.”
But she could see from the tightness around his mouth that she’d burned him. She set her cup down and reached for his hand, where a red blotch had appeared. “You need to put ice on that.”
“It’s nothing,” he said again.
She’d already gone to the freezer and retrieved some ice. She returned and gently laid a cube on his hand. “I know it’s cold,” she said, “but it’ll stop the burn.” She moved the cube over the burn while the ice melted, dripping over both their hands. At last, she threw the remaining ice in the sink and reached for the dish towel to dab his hand dry.
She’d been so focused on his hand that she hadn’t once looked up at Jake. When she did, she found his eyes focused on her, his mouth grim. She wondered what she’d done wrong, and was preparing to defend her behavior, when he bent and kissed her softly on the mouth.
He stood again before she could react or respond. She touched her lips and stared at him, waiting for some sort of explanation.
“Thanks,” he said.
A moment later he was out the door.
Hope stared after him, confused by his behavior, until she realized it had probably been a very long time since anyone had ministered to Jake Whitelaw.
She wasn’t left with much time to ruminate, because she heard the baby crying upstairs and Huck’s yell to announce that Becky was awake.
Hope hurried upstairs. She had no time to pause and think, but she’d long ago planned what she would do if she ever had the chance to impress Jake with her abilities as a housewife.
She was feeding the kids breakfast when the phone rang. She was almost certain it was Faith, checking to see how she’d fared. She answered the phone with, “Better than you’d imagine.”
“What?”
Hope realized immediately the female voice wasn’t Faith’s. “Excuse me. Whitelaw residence, may I help you?”
“Who is this?”
“Hope Butler. Who is this?”
The silence lasted so long, Hope wondered if the other party had hung up, but there was no dial tone, so she hung on. At last the female voice said, “This is Amanda Carter. I was hoping to catch Jake before he took off for the day.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Carter, he’s already left.”
There was another hesitation before Miss Carter said, “May I ask what you’re doing there, Hope?”
“Jake’s housekeeper had an emergency. I’m baby-sitting Huc
k and Becky.”
“Oh. Well. Would you tell Jake he can pick me up at seven?”
“Certainly.”
“Thanks.” Another hesitation, then, “Have a nice day.”
“You, too, Miss Carter.”
Hope set the phone gently in the cradle. She hoped she hadn’t sounded as jealous on the phone as she’d felt. She’d barely set the phone down when it rang again.
“Whitelaw residence, Hope speaking.”
“That sounds formal,” Faith said.
“Oh, thank God it’s you. I thought it was you when I answered the first call, but it was Miss Carter. I don’t know what she must have thought.”
“How’s it going?” Faith asked.
“I’m glad I came,” Hope said. “Although I’m not sure it’s going to do much good.”
“Hang in there. You’ve got a week to go.”
“He’s going out tonight with Miss Carter.”
“Really? Do you know where they’re planning to go?”
“I have no idea.”
“Hmm,” Faith said.
At that moment Becky flicked a spoonful of baby cereal at Huck, who yelled and swiped at his face.
“I’ve got to go,” Hope said. “I’ll talk to you when the kids are down for their afternoon nap.”
Long before it was time to put Becky down for her nap, it was apparent she was sick. The baby had developed a fever of 102 degrees, and she kept grabbing at her right ear. “Poor baby,” Hope crooned, as she paced with the baby in her arms.
“Becky’s cwying,” Huck said.
“I know,” Hope said. “It looks like she has an earache.”
Huck nodded. “Uh-huh. Becky gets an eawache all the time.”
Hope stopped abruptly and stared at the little boy. “All the time? Did your mom and dad leave some medicine?”
Huck shook his head. “We go to the ’Mergency Woom.”
“The Emergency Room?” Hope said, alarmed at the possibility that what was wrong with Becky might be life-threatening. Surely it was just an earache.
“Uh-huh,” Huck said, nodding. “’Cause when Becky’s sick she might die.”
The little boy said it matter-of-factly, but Hope’s heart had already started to pound. She didn’t want to panic and take Becky to the hospital if the baby had a malady that could be treated with eardrops. But Huck spoke as though Becky had been to the Emergency Room more than once.
If she could get hold of Jake, she could ask what to do. She called his cell phone number but got his voice mail message. Hope couldn’t wait for him to get home. She didn’t dare take the chance that something was wrong with Becky that might require a doctor’s immediate attention.
She debated whether to leave a message, then said, “This is Hope. I’m taking Becky to the Emergency Room. I’ll call again when I know what’s wrong.”
Hope took a deep breath and let it out, then picked up the phone and dialed 911.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ORDINARILY, JAKE WOULD HAVE WORKED from sunrise till sundown. Between the quarter horses and the cattle, there was a never-ending list of jobs that needed to be done. But today he felt antsy and out of sorts. He had unfinished business with Hope. It wasn’t even noon, and he was already making mental excuses for why he ought to leave the men with some chores to do and head back to the house.
Jake had a dozen cowhands on the payroll at any given time, but he served as his own foreman, preferring the work outdoors to the administrative side of the ranching business. He left that to his brother Avery. At least, he had in the past. He couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have Hope help him out.
He saw her sitting in the big leather chair in front of his desk in a skimpy nightgown. Envisioned himself massaging her tired neck. Imagined his hands in her hair. Contemplated kissing her throat, while his hands—
“Boss, you okay?”
Jake tightened the reins at the intrusion of the voice into his daydream, and his well-trained horse backed up in response. He instantly released the pressure on the reins and his horse stopped. He patted the animal’s neck, crooning his approval for its instant response, while he inwardly chastised himself for his inattention.
“What is it, Harry?” Jake said, letting the cowhand feel his irritation for the interruption.
“You said you wanted to know when that fence was mended. Me and Charlie are finished,” the cowboy said.
Jake made an instant decision. “I’ve got some business back at the homestead. Tell the boys I want those cattle moved up into the north pasture this afternoon. Then you can take off.”
“Consider it done, boss.”
Jake had already spurred his mount, heading back to where he’d left his truck and the horse trailer. It didn’t take long to load his horse and head for home.
When he stepped inside the kitchen door, he was surprised to find the house quiet, until he realized it was nap time for Huck and Becky. He frowned when he saw the cereal bowls on the table. If breakfast was still on the table, what had Hope fed the kids for lunch? He headed up the stairs quietly, not wanting to wake Huck and Becky if they were sleeping.
The kids’ beds were both unmade and empty. He turned and hurried back downstairs yelling, “Hey, there. Anybody home?”
When there was no answer, Jake felt a niggling of concern, but he wasn’t yet worried. Maybe Hope had taken the kids on an afternoon picnic. Without a car, she couldn’t have gone far. He was passing back through the kitchen when he spied a scribbled note stuck on the refrigerator.
Jake,
Called 911. An ambulance is taking us to the hospital. Left a message on your cell phone. Will call again when I can.
Hope
Jake felt his heart take an extra beat. Hope had penned a message, so she was at least well enough for that, but which of the three was hurt? And how serious was it? He never should have left someone so young and inexperienced with his brother’s children. What had happened? Were the kids okay?
Jake reached for the cell phone he usually carried on his belt to retrieve Hope’s message and realized he’d left it in his truck when he’d been on horseback. He raced out to his truck and grabbed the phone from the dash. There were five messages, four from a number he didn’t recognize. He figured it had to be the E.R.
Jake’s heart slammed against his chest. Four messages. It must be serious. But if so, why hadn’t someone—one of his siblings—come to find him? He jumped into his pickup and gunned the engine, aiming his truck toward town, even as he punched the buttons to recall the number that had been left on his phone.
“Emergency Room, please hold.”
“Wait a goddamn—” But Jake had already been put on hold. It seemed to take forever for a voice to come back on the line.
“Emergency Room, may I help you?”
“This is Jake Whitelaw, I—”
“Oh, we’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Not very damned hard,” Jake snapped back. “What’s the problem? Who’s sick?”
“Hold just a moment and I’ll get Miss Butler.”
“I don’t want to hold—” But Jake had already been put on hold. At least Hope was all right. But that meant one of the kids was sick or hurt.
“Jake?”
He heard the anxiety in Hope’s voice and felt his chest tighten. “What’s going on, Hope?” he said, his voice harsh in his ears.
“It’s Becky, she’s—”
“I never should have left you alone with her! What the hell happened?”
Jake heard silence on the other end of the phone. Hurt silence. “Well?” he demanded.
Hope’s voice was measured. “Becky has an ear infection. Her fever was high and Huck said your brother usually brings her to the Emergency Room. I did
n’t want to take the chance it might be something serious. So I called 911. They’ve given her an antibiotic and she’s doing fine. We’ve been waiting for you to come pick us up.”
“Oh.” Jake felt an enormous sense of relief. And then guilt, for having unjustly accused Hope. “You did the right thing,” he said.
“I’m glad you think so,” she said, her words clipped. “I’ll wait here with the children until you arrive. Since you won’t be needing me anymore, I’ll call Faith to come pick me up.”
Jake gritted his teeth. “I didn’t say that,” he muttered. He was going to be in big trouble during the next week without Hope’s help. “I’m sorry I blamed you before I heard the facts.”
“Yes, well, it’s plain you don’t think—”
“Damn it, Hope, stay where you are and don’t call your sister. We’ll talk when I get there.” He hung up, feeling at a disadvantage arguing over the phone.
When he charged through the hospital Emergency Room doors, he found Hope sitting in a plastic chair with Becky in her arms and Huck curled up in the chair beside her, using her thigh as a pillow. He felt a swell of emotion, imagining the peacefully sleeping children were his. And the woman as well.
He eased into the empty chair next to her. He said nothing for several moments, searching for the right words. He owed her an apology. But he wasn’t used to being wrong. Or admitting it.
“How are you?” he said at last.
She kept her eyes on Becky as she replied, “Fine.”
He reached out and brushed a blond, sweat-damp curl away from Becky’s face. He swallowed over the knot in his throat, then said, “I’m sorry, Hope.”
She faced him at last, and he felt his gut clench when he saw the wounded look in her dark eyes.
“I think I should go home,” she said. “I think you should get one of your brothers or sisters to—”
He put his fingertips to her lips. “I’m sorry. You did the right thing. I was scared. I spoke without thinking.”
“I was scared, too,” Hope said, her voice quiet but intense. “That’s why I came here. I got worried when you didn’t call back.” She looked into his eyes and whispered, “That something might have happened to you, too.”
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