Practically Married

by Christine Rimmer

  And some part of her truly wished that she hadn’t. Because some part of her—a very large part of her—did not want to deal with this at all.

  Carefully Tess carried the curtains and rods back to the bed and set the whole apparatus down. Then, for several minutes, she just stood there, looking at her own handiwork, trying to decide what action she should take here.

  Starr was sixteen. And probably not a complete innocent.

  Beau had to be at least in his twenties. At this point in their lives, he was too old for Starr. Wasn’t he? The law would certainly say so.

  Tess put her hands to her mouth, shook her head.

  And thought of Josh.

  And the act she had done with him that had changed her life so irrevocably. The act that had created Jobeth, who was more precious to Tess than her own life.

  No, Tess would never choose not to have had Jobeth, no matter what the price.

  But, Jobeth aside—oh, to go back! To simply not make that choice to lie down in the barn with her father’s hired man. To have been valedictorian of her high school class, as she would have been. To have gone off on an AG scholarship to college. To have been there when her father died, and to have done all she could to keep her place, her home, her heritage.

  All those possibilities wiped out.

  Because of a handsome man and an urge to wildness inside herself.

  If, somehow, her parents had found out before it was too late—if they had talked to her—would it have changed anything?

  Tess couldn’t be sure. She just wasn’t that girl anymore, that girl who flung herself at life without a care for the cost. That girl who was a lot like Starr—not so tough or so worldly-wise, maybe. But bright and passionate and hungry to see what the world had to offer.

  Tess found she was turning for the stairs.

  Maybe it would do no good. Maybe she had no right to intervene. Maybe she should wait for Zach to come home and discuss the situation with him, call him on that cellular phone he carried in the pickup with him now and tell him to hurry home.

  But he couldn’t get home fast enough to keep whatever was going on out in the barn from proceeding right through to its natural conclusion.

  Which might be totally innocent.

  Or might not...

  No, she couldn’t let it go. Not even for the time it would take Zach to come home and deal with it. She had to do what she could right now.

  Tess went down the stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door, closing it rather loudly behind her, making no secret of her whereabouts. She marched straight for the barn and went right inside.

  At first glance, it appeared deserted. And then she heard the rustling behind a stack of hay bales in the corner.

  “Starr.”

  More rustling.

  “Come on out. Now.”

  Slowly, her faced flushed and hay in her hair, Starr emerged from behind the bales. Tess stared at her, not sure what to do next. Starr stared right back, defiant.

  Finally Tess managed to speak in a dry whisper. “You buttoned your shirt crooked.”

  Starr’s lower lip quivered as she swiftly corrected the problem.

  “Beau,” Tess said more strongly. “Are you just going to hide back there and let Starr face the music alone?”

  Beau appeared behind Starr, looking grim. All of his clothes seemed buttoned up right. Tess dared to hope that was because he’d never unbuttoned anything. He had his hat in his hand and he beat it a few times against his thigh, watching Tess warily as he did it.

  “You’d better go on back to your trailer for now,” Tess told him.

  His jaw twitched. For a moment, Tess thought he might argue with her. But then he turned without a word and started toward the door, brushing bits of hay from his shirt and hair as he went.

  Starr watched him go, a look of injured disbelief on her beautiful face. She let him get all the way to the door, before she called out, “Beau! Wait! You don’t have to do what she says. You don’t have to...” She let the sentence die unfinished when Beau only shook his head and kept on walking.

  Fuming now, Starr turned back to Tess. “Nice going. Thanks.”

  Tess stared at her stepdaughter. “The attitude won’t work on me, Starr.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Attacking me isn’t going to make this situation disappear—or keep me from telling your father about it.”

  Starr let out a disgusted breath, braced a hand on her hip and looked Tess up and down. “And I thought you were all right.”

  Tess only sighed. “I can see we’re not going to get anywhere right now. Just go on up to your room. I’ll send your father up after he gets home.”

  Starr was chewing on her lower lip. For a moment, Tess thought she might break down, say something honest, open the door for a real talk.

  But in the end, she only drew back her shoulders and lifted her perfect chin. “Fine.” Her rhinestone glinted; her eyes flashed in pure scorn. “And anyway, I know what’s up with you. I know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

  Dread formed, a hard ball, in Tess’s stomach. “Starr, look—”

  “I am sixteen. I’ve got a brain. And eyes. I know you and my dad aren’t married in any normal way. Because I know where my dad sleeps. And it’s not with you.”

  Tess felt as if the girl had kneed her in the stomach. But somehow, she stayed upright and continued looking Starr right in the eye. “My relationship with your father has nothing to do with this. And I think you know that.”

  Another stare-down ensued. In the end, Starr’s bravado cracked. She let out a tiny cry, whirled on her heel and ran from the barn.

  Tess watched her through the wide-open door, made sure she ran toward the house and then listened for the slam of the back door. When she heard it, she found a hay bale and carefully lowered herself onto it. She sat there for a long time, staring at the rough floor, feeling numb and awful. She had thought that everything was going so well lately.

  So much for what she had thought.

  Zach and Jobeth stood out in a pasture near Saunderman Road, staring down at the tire tracks and the dragged spot the stock trailer ramp would have made.

  “Is it them, Zach? Were the rustlers here?”

  “Looks like it. Get me the phone from the pickup, will you?”

  Jobeth took off. She was back with the phone in a flash. “Here you go.”

  Zach punched up the auto-dial number for the sheriff’s office in Buffalo, got the dispatcher and explained what he’d seen, where he was and how to get there. Then he handed the phone back to Jobeth, who trotted to the pickup, put it away and ran back to him once more.

  “What do we do now, Zach?”

  “We wait for someone to come out and write a report.”

  Zach and Jobeth arrived home at five-thirty, both covered in mud. They left their boots by the back door and came trooping in in stocking feet.

  Tess knew from the look on Zach’s face that the afternoon had been no better for him than for her. “What happened?”

  “We found tire tracks,” Jobeth said eagerly. “Ones the rustlers must have left. So we called the range detective and he came out to make a report.” From over at the stove, Edna made a sound of distress. Jobeth continued, “We got all this mud on us later, from pushing the pickup out of a mudhole.”

  Tess looked at Zach. “Do you know how many cattle are missing?”

  “No way to be sure,” he said flatly, “as usual.” His tone grew brisk. “We need to clean up. Come on, Jo.” The two headed upstairs to their respective showers.

  Tess trailed after them to the foot of the stairs, dismayed at the news about the tire tracks, and worried about Starr, all alone in her room, probably fretting and fuming, wondering when her father would come. The girl had been up there for almost three hours now. It was long enough for her to suffer and wonder. And really, Tess thought, someone ought to go out and talk to Beau, too. Probably Zach. But Zach co
uldn’t talk to anybody if he didn’t know what was going on. And Tess didn’t see how she would get Zach alone to share a word with him for hours yet. Sighing, she wandered back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, trying to remember what had to be done next to get the dinner on the table and everyone fed.

  Edna, still at the stove stirring the beans, tapped the spoon impatiently against the rim of the pot. “Tess, you are nervous as a sinner in church. Something isn’t right— beyond the news about those thieves. And where is Starr, anyway? We could use a little help with the table.”

  Tess hadn’t planned to mention anything to Edna about the incident in the barn, at least not until she’d spoken with Zach—but then she turned and met her friend’s eyes:

  Edna set the spoon on the spoon rest. “All right. What’s happened with Starr?”

  Tess shot a glance around to be sure that they were alone. Then she swiftly explained the events of the afternoon—minus only Starr’s comment about where she and Zach slept at night.

  Edna said, “You must talk to your husband immediately.”

  “I know. But there’s no time now.”

  “Of course there is. You just run on upstairs and catch him before he comes down from his shower.”

  Tess gaped at her friend. “Run upstairs? Now?”

  “Yes.”

  Tess knew Edna’s suggestion made perfect sense. She should have just followed Zach upstairs to his room in the first place and caught him alone. And yet she hadn’t. Because she never entered his private space—except to gather his laundry when she washed his clothes. He made his own bed and tidied up after himself. With the kind of relationship they had, she wouldn’t dare go near him when he was in his room. And never ever when he was doing something so private as taking a shower.

  “Tess. What is the matter with you?”

  “Nothing. Really. It’s just that I’m so worried. About Starr.”

  “Well, then. Go talk it over with Zach. Now.”

  “But the dinner—”

  “Oh, come on. I’ve been getting dinners on the table in this house for more years than I care to count. I think I can manage it this evening. I’ll feed the hands and Jobeth and myself. You worry about Zach and Starr.”

  “Yes. You’re right. I know you are.”

  “So get going.”

  “Yes. I am. Right now.”

  Tess stood in the upstairs hall, her ear pressed against Zach’s door. The shower stopped. She would give it a slow count of two hundred, and then she’d knock.

  “Mom?”

  Tess let out a cry and turned. Jobeth stood at the top of the stairs, her hair slicked back and her skin still rosy from her own shower.

  “Mom, what are you doing?”

  “Jobeth, you scared me.”

  “Sorry. But what are you—?”

  “Honey, I need to talk to Zach.”

  “Oh.”

  “Go on down and help Edna with the dinner.”

  “Okay. Where’s Starr?”

  “In her room.”

  “Can I get her?”

  “Uh, no. We’ll bring her. When we come.”

  “But—”

  “Jobeth, would you please just do what I asked you to do?”

  Frowning, Jobeth studied her mother. “Something’s strange. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me.” That wasn’t a lie, not exactly. “I promise you. I am fine. Now please go on down and give Edna a hand.”

  Reluctantly Jobeth descended the stairs. Tess moved to the top of the stairwell and watched her go, willing her not to change her mind and decide to come back up.

  Finally Jobeth reached the bottom step and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Tess heard Edna’s voice, faintly. “There you are. Come and set the table, please.”

  Good, Tess thought. Edna would keep Jobeth out of the way now. Tess turned for Zach’s door once more.

  It was open. Zach stood in the doorway, wearing clean Wranglers—and nothing else.

  Tess blinked and stammered. “Oh. I didn’t—”

  “What the hell’s going on?”

  “I...” She gulped and stared and felt like a complete fool. “I have to talk with you.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes. And in private. Please.”

  He gave her one of those long looks of his, a look that measured and doubted and made her feel so confused. Then he stepped back. “All right. Come on.”

  She moved past him into the room, far too aware of his strong, bare chest, of the steam in the air, left over from his shower, of the clean scent of soap that came from his skin. He closed the door behind her, closed them in together...

  She headed for the chair in the corner—as far away from him as she could get, thinking, Come on, get a grip here. This is about Starr, not about all the things you wish your husband would do to you that he won’t do to you. She sat, drew her shoulders back, sucked in a good, long breath.

  Zach remained by the door, watching. “Talk.”

  Suddenly she couldn’t bear to sit. She stood. She went to the window and looked out at the barn, at the door through which Beau had pulled Starr only a few hours before.

  The way to explain it all finally came to her. She would just start with herself at the window in the room next door and go right on through till the end.

  So she did. She told it all, everything, right up to when Edna had sent her upstairs to talk to him. Everything except Starr’s remarks about their sleeping arrangements. Somehow, she just couldn’t admit that part. And really, it wasn’t the issue anyway.

  By the time she’d finished, Zach was already turning to the bureau, pulling out a white T-shirt and clean socks. She added, “I honestly thought it was going so well with her. I just...I had no idea about this thing with Beau.”

  Zach tugged the shirt over his head. “I told you I was suspicious. But we couldn’t be sure anything was going on until now. Did you talk to her at all? Did you get any sense of how far the two of them have carried this?”

  “No. She was so hostile. I just...didn’t know how to reach her.”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “You did what you could. ” He sat briefly and put on the socks. Then he went to the closet and got some boots. He sat a second time, just long enough to yank them on. Finally he stood.

  Tess met his eyes. “I thought it might be good, to let her think things over for a while. But maybe I took it too far. She’s been in there for hours, waiting. I believe I heard her go into the bathroom once, but that’s all. I kept thinking you and Jobeth would show up, so I just left her in there. I probably should have—”

  He waved a hand. “You did fine. I’ll go talk to her now.”

  “And to Beau.”

  “He’ll be next. Starr first.”

  “Yes. Good.”

  He turned and went out. Tess sank back to the chair, unwilling to go downstairs until he came out of Starr’s room, just in case—well, she wasn’t sure what. She only knew she wanted to be there waiting when Zach came out. So she stayed.

  Zach tapped on Starr’s door.

  A moment, later, she pulled it open partway and peered out at him. “What?” Her eyes were hard and cold.

  “Let me in.”

  Starr flung back the door and faced him. Behind her, he could see her bed, littered with magazines, her discarded headphones tossed on top of the heap. Over in the corner, wadded up in a pile, lay what looked like the dark blue curtains Tess had been making for her. The stepladder stood a few feet from the wad of blue cloth.

  Starr saw the direction of his gaze. She made a low, guilty sound in her throat. “Look. Those stupid curtains were in my way. All right?”

  He crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other. Zach had a feeling of total unreality. He didn’t know what to do. Or how to begin.

  Starr threw up her hands. “Okay. Say it. I have to go, right? You don’t want me around any
more because I’m just...too trampy to live here. Right? Because I have to live by your rules and I blew your rules, going back behind the hay bales with Beau.”

  He focused on what he was sure of. “Starr. I don’t want you to leave.”

  She dropped to the edge of her bed, to the one spot not littered with magazines. “You don’t?” Her eyes seemed to ask, So what’s the catch?

  Zach despised himself then. How in the hell had he let her get so far away from him that she didn’t believe she could get back? “You live here. With us.”

  The pile of magazines started to slide in her direction. She shoved at it with her elbow. “She hates me now.”

  “Tess does not hate you. She’s worried about you.”

  “She’ll tell Jo to keep away from me.”

  “No, she won’t.”

  Starr looked down at all the magazines, then out toward the window.

  “Starr. Look at me.”

  Her head snapped around and she glared at him, her mouth set in a mutinous line. “I’m not a tramp. I’m not.”

  “No one called you a tramp.”

  “They did. Derek and Mother. They called me worse than that. But I’m not. I don’t do drugs. And I don’t do anything with guys. I know how guys are. I learned early. When it comes to guys, it’s simple. If you don’t get humped, you don’t get dumped.”

  Zach cleared his throat. “That’s an...interesting way of putting it.”

  “It’s the truth, that’s all.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “But Beau, he’s different than other guys.” Personally Zach thought Beau was a weasel and a snake in the grass. But he kept his opinion to himself.

  Starr must have seen something in Zach’s expression that betrayed his opinion of Beau. She cried, “I can tell you blame him!”

  “Starr. What he did was wrong.”

  “But he cares for me. He does.”

  “Then why didn’t he come knocking on the front door and ask for you?”

  She glared. “And what would you have said if he did?”

  “I would have said no.”

  “Exactly. So I had to sneak out to see him. I’m not proud of it, but what else could we do?”