Ready-Made Bride

by Janelle Denison

  A sly smile quirked the other woman’s mouth. Pressing a hand to her bosom, she leaned toward Megan and dropped her voice to a whisper. “He killed his wife.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  H E KILLED his wife.

  Megan’s heart skipped a beat. The terrifying statement sent chills skittering across the surface of her skin whenever she thought of such a heinous crime.

  There has to be a logical explanation, she told herself for the hundredth time. Ever since Joyce had tilted Megan’s world on its axis with her outrageous claim, Megan had repeated those soothing words. Andrew had arrived home from school, leaving Megan suspended somewhere between horror and disbelief while Joyce had ushered him into the living room to begin their lessons.

  Numbed by shock, Megan had started dinner in a fog like state, her mind mulling over the accusation, then finally rejecting it. If Kane was a murderer, he’d be behind bars, she reasoned. But there were a few questions she hadn’t been able to resolve, like why people had fabricated such a horrible, damaging allegation and why Kane allowed such a nasty rumor to circulate.

  “The table is all cleared, Megan.”

  Shaking off the remnants of this afternoon’s stunning discovery, she turned from the kitchen sink and lifted the dirty dinner plates from Andy’s helping hands. She placed them in the soapy water to soak. “Thank you, honey.”

  A dimpled grin creased his face. “You’re welcome.” Grabbing a dish towel from a drawer, he pitched in to help by drying the pans draining on the counter rack.

  “Where’s your father?” Had he escaped to his sanctuary so early? she wondered.

  “He went to take a shower.” Andy dried a plate and stacked it on top of a clean one on the counter. “He promised me we’d play a game of checkers before I go to bed.”

  “That sounds like fun.” Smiling at him, she dunked her hands into the soapy water and scrubbed a pan. More quietly, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a tutor?”

  His face reddened and he looked away, mumbling, “Because I didn’t want you to think I was stupid.”

  Understanding his embarrassment, she dried her hands on a spare dish towel and tucked his chin between her thumb and forefinger. She brought his bright brown gaze to hers. “Andy, you could tell me anything at all, even that you were a man from Mars, and I’d never think you were stupid.”

  Her teasing approach prodded a shy smile from him. “Then why do I need her? All she does is quiz me on my spelling words for the week and help me with my homework, which I already know how to do. And she makes me read out loud to her. She said Dad told her to make sure we read at least two chapters of a book each session. I can do all that stuff without her.”

  A valid point, Megan conceded. “Why don’t you ask your father why he thinks you need a tutor,” she suggested.

  “I did. He said having a tutor would give me an advantage over the other kids.”

  “He’s right, you know.” She affectionately ruffled his hair.

  “But I hate it when Joyce comes over.” His eyes filled with the sparkle of an idea. “Do you think you could talk to Dad about Joyce not coming over anymore?”

  His hopeful expression touched her deeply, made her want to say yes. She’d slay the meanest fire-breathing dragon for him if he asked, but she knew she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, undermine Kane’s authority. “No. It’s your father’s decision, not mine. I know this is hard for you to understand, but he only wants the best for you.”

  He hung his head in defeat. “That’s what Dad says, too.”

  Megan suppressed a smile. “Why don’t you go set up the checkers game, and when I’m finished cleaning up in here I’ll bring you and your dad a slice of the apple pie I made today.”

  “Okay,” he said eagerly, his youthful woes temporarily forgotten as he skipped happily from the room.

  As soon as Andy was tucked into bed Kane made his way to the front door, intending to spend the next few hours in his workshop. Or at least until Megan fell asleep.

  He’d gotten good at avoiding her. Unfortunately, the solitude and cold of the barn hadn’t lessened his attraction toward her. If anything, it intensified his awareness of her when they were in the same room. Like now. He could hear her following him, could smell that soft, feminine fragrance of hers that wreaked havoc with his hormones.

  He had to get the hell out of the house before he did something incredibly stupid. Like give in to the temptation of touching her again…or kissing that lush mouth of hers. That particular pleasure would be foolish to indulge in, because he didn’t think he’d be able to stop at one taste.

  Putting a lid on his frustrating thoughts, he yanked his denim jacket from the coatrack by the door and punched his arms through the sleeves.

  “Kane?”

  His gut clenched at the sweet, husky sound of his name on her lips, but he didn’t turn and look at her, fearing that would be his downfall now that their chaperone wasn’t around to help him maintain his distance. “Yeah?”

  “Can I talk to you?” He detected a slight tremor in her voice.

  Ten different excuses came to mind, all of them cowardly and lame. A part of him had known this was coming, had seen the pensive looks she’d been casting at him all evening. He had no desire to rehash their argument about his in-laws. He straightened the collar of his jacket with an impatient flick of his wrist. “If this is about the Lindens-”

  “No, it’s not,” she said quickly.

  He faced her, jamming his hands on his hips. “Then what is it?”

  She hesitated at his gruff tone, then her chin lifted. “Could we go out on the porch?”

  He lifted a questioning brow.

  “There’s something I want to ask you.” Her velvet blue gaze remained steady on his. “Something personal.”

  Something she obviously didn’t want Andy to overhear. “Fine, but you might want to put this on.” He grabbed an extra jacket and tossed it at her. “It’s cool outside.”

  She slipped on the sheepskin-lined jacket and zipped it, then cuffed the sleeves to her wrist. He knew her scent would cling to the fleece lining. He knew he’d never be able to wear that jacket-his favorite in the winter-without thinking of her.

  He flipped on the porch light and ushered her onto the wide veranda. She sat on the swing he’d made for Cathy as a wedding gift. The chain creaked from her slight weight and years of inactivity. He didn’t join her. He didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to get cozy.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “I heard a rumor today.” Her voice was a soft, hushed whisper.

  His body tensed, and he had to force himself to relax. Bracing his back against the porch post by the stairs, he strove for a flippant attitude. “Let’s see, which one might that be? That I’m a horrible father and neglect my son? Or maybe the one about me being a recluse? Then there’s the one about how I’m on the verge of bankruptcy-”

  “What about the one about you killing your wife?” she asked calmly, though her fingers curled tightly around the swing’s intricately carved wooden armrest.

  His heart slammed against his chest, then resumed at a frantic pace. Sweet Lord, he could have dealt with any one of them but that one. He could have coped with anything but the tenderness and understanding in her gaze. She was waiting, hoping he’d deny the accusation.

  “It isn’t a rumor.” He forced the words out, his voice rough and raspy.

  Fear flashed across her features, then just as quickly anger took its place. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ridicule me.”

  She thought he was joking. Bitter laughter spilled out of him. “You don’t know the first thing about me, Megan, except for what Andy has told you. And what you don’t know you won’t like. So, like the situation with the Lindens, I suggest you leave it alone.”

  “No.” She came out of her seat and toward him, fiery determination etching her features. “I want to know why people would say such a horrible thing.”

  He gl
ared at her, giving in to the masochistic urge to scare her. “Because maybe there’s a bit of truth to it.”

  “I don’t believe it,” she said softly and with so much certainty he almost believed her.

  He compressed his mouth into a thin line and clenched his hands to keep from reaching out to touch her. “Then you’re a fool.”

  A faint, challenging smile lifted her mouth. “They’re the fools if they believe you’re capable of hurting anyone.”

  But he had hurt Cathy, if not physically, then emotionally. The fear that he could do it again to another woman kept him from caving in to Megan’s gentleness. “Believe it, Megan,” he said harshly, and turned to go.

  She grabbed a fistful of his jacket sleeve and pulled him back around with more strength than he would have thought her capable of. “Damn you, quit hiding! You might be able to fool the entire town, but you don’t fool me. Whatever happened to Cathy, you weren’t responsible. She drowned, Kane. You told me so yourself.”

  “I drove her to it,” he said furiously.

  “Did you hold her under the water?” she countered heatedly.

  Her sarcastic question hit too close to the truth. The fight went out of him, draining away his burning anger. “I might as well have.”

  She frowned, her eyes brimming with confusion. Letting go of his arm, she stepped back, her gaze searching his face for answers. “I…I don’t understand.”

  Dragging a hand roughly through his hair, Kane turned away. Megan didn’t deserve his anger, no matter how long the emotions had been pent up without a release. Finally, someone cared enough to listen to him instead of theorizing about what happened between him and Cathy. The truth squeezed like a vise around his lungs, the pressure nearly unbearable. God, he wanted to tell his side of the story so badly, purge all the bitterness, resentment and guilt eating him up inside.

  Blowing out a long, steady breath, he gathered strength. “I met Cathy when I was twenty-three, and she was twenty,” he began, moving across the porch away from Megan. If he was going to do this, he had to detach himself from her as much as possible. “Cathy actually pursued me, and despite knowing that her parents expected a better catch than me for their only child, I fell hard for her. She was young, pretty, and fun to be with.” And he’d had so little excitement, growing up so quickly. Cathy’s vivacity had brightened his dull life and made him feel a little reckless. “Six months after we started dating she got pregnant.”

  The swing creaked as Megan settled herself onto the bench seat. “I take it the Lindens weren’t too happy about that.”

  He glanced at her, his mouth twisting into a parody of a smile. “Hardly.” Being pregnant had come as a shock to Cathy, too, who’d feared her parents’ reaction. She’d been so upset, she’d suggested having an abortion. Kane’s stomach pitched at the memory. He’d been furious that she would even consider such a heartless alternative. “I wasn’t about to give up my child or neglect my responsibility to Cathy. I did love her, and I wanted to marry her.”

  And for the first six months of their marriage he believed they could be happy together. But after the novelty of being a housewife wore off, Cathy had grown bored and decided she wanted more than Kane’s little house, an old truck and living on a budget She wanted all the luxuries her parents had showered on her, but Kane couldn’t afford them on his wages from the sawmill.

  Thrusting the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, he stared at the moon. “After Andrew was born, Cathy’s father, who’s the president of the Linden Trust and Loan bank in town, offered me the position of vice president of operations, with a hefty salary that was more than triple my yearly wages at the sawmill. Cathy asked him to give me the job.” He couldn’t help his sharp tone.

  “Regardless, that’s quite an offer.”

  “I couldn’t…” His jaw clenched and he bit back his words. “I didn’t want the job.”

  Her voice softened with empathy. “Pride got in the way?”

  “Yeah, that was part of it.”

  “And the other part?”

  The other part was too humiliating to reveal. “I hate wearing a suit and tie,” he said in answer to her prompting.

  She smiled at his smart remark. “That would definitely be a problem, but not something you couldn’t adjust to.”

  This woman sensed too much and was relentless in her pursuit. “Not only did I not want to depend on the Lindens for the rest of my life, or be indebted to them, my experience is limited to scaling trees, cutting footboards and working in the bush. I know nothing about banking or holding an executive position.”

  “You could have learned,” she said, pushing the swing into motion with the toe of her sneaker.

  That’s what he and Cathy had argued about until he’d finally made her understand that he’d never be able to take the fancy banker job or be a successful businessman like her father. “I was more than capable of supporting my family working at the sawmill,” he said, repeating the adamant words he’d told Cathy that fateful day.

  “But not in the way she was accustomed,” she guessed.

  “No, but we weren’t living in poverty, either,” he argued. “I could take care of my own family without the Lindens’ help.”

  “And Cathy resented that.”

  She’d resented that he’d never be anything more than a blue-collar worker. And she’d been so humiliated she never told her father the real reason Kane had refused the executive position, just let Harold believe his son-in-law snubbed a golden opportunity.

  “Her parents resented me and my decision, too. They felt they were just trying to help me better myself. Not taking that damned job was the crux of our marriage. Nothing was the same after that. She hated living here and being married to me and made no secret of her feelings. Her parents blame me for not taking the job, for her depression and ultimately, for her death.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  Kane didn’t think so, considering he could have alleviated her misery but had chosen not to. “She asked for a divorce just after Andrew’s second birthday, but I refused to give her one. I didn’t want to lose Andrew.” Wearily, he dragged a hand over his jaw. “Later that same week she was found in the lake that adjoins my property. She’d drowned.”

  A gasp echoed from Megan’s side of the porch. “Did she… kill herself?”

  “Nobody knows.” Resting his hip against the porch railing, he rubbed his forehead. A measure of guilt compounded the throbbing in his head. “I don’t know what the hell she was doing down by the lake. She didn’t know how to swim. She could have slipped and fallen in, she could have jumped in, or somebody could have pushed her in…someone like me.”

  The rhythmic creaking of the swing came to an abrupt halt. “Stop it,” she said, her tone low and vehement.

  But he couldn’t stop. She’d wanted the sordid details, and he was going to give them to her. Maybe then she’d keep her distance. “I might not have pushed her in physically, but I drove her to it emotionally.”

  “And it could have been an accidental drowning,” she refuted emphatically.

  “Yes, but it’s easier for everyone who knew Cathy and knew how miserable she was being married to me to believe I killed her.”

  A frown marred Megan’s brow. “That’s ludicrous.”

  “Maybe not She was unhappy, and I have no idea what she was doing out by the lake on a rainy day.” And he’d never know, could only live with the guilt, the curious stares and the whispers behind his back.

  She left the swing and approached him. He tensed and resisted the impulse to move away before she left him no means of escape. The porch light gave her an ethereal appearance and added to the shimmer of compassion in her gaze. Damn her. His dark soul yearned for the tenderness and understanding he’d never received from his wife, but which Megan offered so openly.

  “Don’t you understand, Megan?” he asked angrily, wanting to intimidate her so she’d forget about redeeming him. “I could very well hav
e killed Cathy.”

  She stopped in front of him. Slowly, she reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm. “Quit blaming yourself for something you had no control over.”

  Her touch was soft and gentle, a balm to his battered and bruised heart. Swallowing the thick need gathering in his throat, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. The rough movement brought their bodies inches apart. Their gazes locked, hers dark and luminous, not with apprehension but with a wanting that nearly crumbled the walls he’d erected around his heart.

  Dammit, he didn’t want to care for her, like her, even. Too late for that. She’d gone where no woman had treadled in so long he’d thought he’d lost the capacity to care. Megan Sanders was proving him wrong, forcing him to realize he was a flesh-and-blood man who needed a bit of tenderness.

  “Kane,” she whispered, her breath so close it became his own.

  “No,” he said roughly, tightening his hold on her wrist as if the action could keep his emotions leashed just as securely.

  What the hell was she doing to him? She looked like an angel, his salvation, and at the moment he’d sell his soul to the devil to bury himself in her exuberance and warmth and claim her for his own.

  “No,” he said again, this time with the strength and conviction that protected his pride. “I’ll only hurt you, Megan.”

  “You don’t have it in you.”

  God, did the woman have no sense? He was trying to warn her, save her from heartache and pain. “I could destroy you.” Just as he’d destroyed Cathy.

  Her gaze remained unfaltering. “Never.”

  Nope, not a lick of sense. “I don’t have the greatest reputation in this town.”

  A sultry smile curled her mouth. She slipped her hand inside his jacket and pressed her palm against his chest. His heart beat wildly and increased in tempo with the slow slide of her fingers. “Your reputation is overrated,” she murmured.

  He caught a groan before it escaped. God, did she realize what she was doing to him? That she was turning him inside out and pushing him to the brink of control? “Dammit, Megan, don’t waste your time caring about me.”