Bound by Honor

by Donna Clayton

  Putting the Spartan civil ceremony and the door across the hall completely out of her mind, Jenna spent a good hour playing with the baby. She sang silly, made up songs, played patty-cake and peekaboo, and laughed at each and every one of the animated faces that Lily made. Her sister's daughter was a happy child, and, from what she'd learned researching child development on the Internet, Lily seemed to be right on track with her physical progress.

  At just over six months, Lily was sitting on her own, could roll over in both directions, reached for objects she wanted, jabbered in response to verbal stimulus, and, when lying Hat on her lummy, she was attempting to lift herself onto her hands and knees. She would be crawling soon.

  Suddenly, Jenna grew solemn. It was such a shame that Amy and David weren't here to witness their daughter's achievements. But she shook herself out of her melancholy mood quickly.

  "Today's not a day for sadness," Jenna said aloud. "Today's a day for celebration. You and I are going to be together forever and ever, aren't we, sweet stuff?" She kissed her niece on the forehead.

  Surprisingly, Lily didn't seem to like the kiss. In fact, Jenna noticed that the baby was becoming a tad crabby. Glancing at her watch, Jenna asked, "Are you hungry, sweet stuff?"

  She picked Lily up. On their way toward the kitchen, Jenna saw her things lined up neatly on the floor by the front door. Gage had carried them in for her.

  He certainly was a mysterious man. Blunt and almost unfriendly one moment, and then unexpectedly thoughtful the next.

  While Lily busied herself on the floor with some pot lids, Jenna set about stirring up some baby cereal using the package directions. Next, she opened a small jar of processed peaches. But once she began attempting to feed Lily lunch, Jenna quickly realized she was going to have to buy a high chair. By the time Lily was fed, both she and the baby were splattered with bits of cereal and strained peaches. She'd been so busy fighting to win custody, she hadn't given a thought to high chairs, cribs, strollers and the like.

  Once she had given Lily a bath and changed her clothes, it was clear the grumpy child was in need of an afternoon nap. Forty minutes later, though, Jenna was at her wit's end. Lily had cried and cried. Jenna had paced the floor, cradling her niece, until the baby finally fell asleep, exhausted. Carefully, Jenna laid her down in the very center of the big bed and hemmed her in on all sides with pillows so she couldn't roll off the mattress.

  Heaving a huge sigh, Jenna thought about sitting down for a few minutes to rest. But she knew that would be a mistake. Lily wouldn't nap for long, and Jenna had things to do.

  Her grumbling stomach sent her back to the kitchen. While making herself a sandwich, she made one for Gage, too, so it would be waiting for him when he returned from the stable. She was tucking it into the refrigerator when he came through the back door.

  "I made a sandwich for you," she told him by way of greeting, setting the food on the table.

  He nodded and silently moved around her to the sink. He turned on the faucet and squirted liquid soap into his palm from the pump dispenser nearby.

  "Call it a payback." She smiled, and he just looked at her. "For carrying in my stuff. Thanks for doing that."

  His head bobbed again, a lock of his black hair falling over his shoulder. Jenna wondered if it would feel silky between her fingers, then she quickly snuffed out the errant thought.

  The silence in the kitchen seemed to hum. Jenna had no desire to spend the next three months feeling so awkward.

  "Listen, Gage —" she picked up the sandwich she'd made herself and went to the table to sit down "— I'm sorry I kept you from your work this morning. I'm sorry if I caused you to fall behind in —"

  "I'm not behind."

  She knew she was already feeling frustrated from her experience trying to get Lily to sleep. The fact that he interrupted her with such a terse response was as irritating as sitting on a purposefully placed tack on the seat of her chair.

  "Well, if you're not anxious about the horses," she blustered, "if you're not behind in your chores, then why the heck are you so grouchy? You've been short since we picked up Lily. If you don't like having two women under your roof, then I'm sorry, but it won't be long before —"

  "I like women just fine."

  Again with the interruption. Again with the clipped reply. What was the man's problem?

  And then she realized what it was. She'd just spelled it out herself. His demeanor had turned stiff the moment they stopped at Arlene's for Lily. At first, Jenna had thought he had something against Arlene. Then she'd thought he was just anxious to get out to the stable. But now she realized that he hadn't made even one attempt to interact with Lily, hadn't touched her, hadn't talked to her, hadn't smiled at her, nothing.

  "You don't like children." Incredulity coated her tone, but Jenna didn't care. How on earth could anyone not love a baby girl as cute and cuddly as Lily?

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. "What I'm going through is personal. I agreed to marry you so you could get custody of your niece. I didn't agree to open up my personal life."

  Jenna slid the sandwich several inches away from her. She'd lost her appetite. "You might not want to talk about this, but I think it's pretty important. Lily's only a baby, yes. But I'm sure she's going to sense your feelings toward her. And you're not going to make her feel safe. You stopped so we could pick Lily up, yes, but other than that you haven't acknowledged her at all."

  "Look around, Jenna. There's more work out there than one man can do. This is a horse ranch, not some cutesy baby ranch. I didn't sign on to be that child's daddy."

  Shock made her jaw go slack for an instant. "I never asked that of you."

  "Good. Because it isn't going to happen."

  Feeling strangely rejected and not understanding why, Jenna just sat there. Finally, she calmly said, "Gage, I don't know what your problem is, but I'm not going to allow you to treat Lily badly."

  "Then the thing you need to do —" he snatched up the sandwich she'd made him and stalked to the back door "— is keep her away from me." The door slammed in his wake.

  Chapter Four

  Lily slapped her hand on the surface of the water, the resulting splash eliciting bubbly laughter from her. The baby enjoyed her bath time, no doubt about it. She could be completely out of sorts, but the moment Jenna turned on the faucet and began undressing her, Lily would grin and coo and kick her legs excitedly.

  The past four days had been a crash course in parenting for Jenna. She'd thought that her thorough Internet research prior to gaining custody of Lily had prepared for the task of raising her sister's baby. But what she'd learned was that nothing could prepare one for the frequently satisfying, occasionally frightening, oftentimes frustrating and chronically exhausting job called motherhood.

  Bedtime was the worst. In fact, Jenna had come to dread it. Lily seemed to struggle against her body's need for sleep. She was sure the baby wanted her mother, and she did all she could to soothe and comfort Lily. But her niece seemed inconsolable. After what seemed like hours, Lily would finally drop off into a deep slumber only to jerk awake after ninety minutes or so, and the whole jarring routine would begin again. Jenna had gotten to the point that she was a nervous wreck, lying awake in the dark just waiting for the baby to start crying.

  She'd tried every suggestion she could find on the Internet baby sites, and she'd called Arlene for advice, too. She rocked, she sang, she walked the floors. Most nights, she ended up moving to the other side of the house, pacing through the kitchen and dining rooms with Lily so as not to disturb Gage. Nothing seemed to help. And after four nights with little sleep, Jenna was truly suffering. The dull ache at the base of her skull refused to go away. Her eyes were bleary, and her temper was short.

  Jenna let Lily play in the tub until the tiny pads of her fingers were wrinkled and the water turned tepid.

  "Okay, sweet stuff." Her words came out on a weary sigh as she lifted Lily from the water. "Time for nighty-night."

&nbs
p; The large terry towel made short work of drying the baby after which Jenna put a diaper on Lily, followed by a pair of pajamas made of whisper-soft jersey. She crossed the hall to their bedroom and sat in the chair, cuddling Lily in her lap, then opened a picture book just as she had every night since moving into Gage's home. Every article she'd read recommended a strict nighttime routine. Even Arlene had said that following a schedule was important. Hopefully, Lily would soon get used to falling asleep in her new surroundings.

  However, just as Jenna had feared, it didn't take long before Lily was rubbing her eyes, squirming and whimpering. And thirty minutes later, Jenna felt like crying herself.

  "Okay, okay," she whispered in a soothing voice. "Let's take a walk." Jenna stood, turned Lily so the baby's head rested on her shoulder, and picked up a light receiving blanket on the way out of the bedroom.

  Jenna hummed as she made her way down the hall and into the living room, smoothing her flattened palm against the baby's back. Fatigue had her feeling impatient and she hoped Lily didn't sense that.

  The sound of the back door opening and closing told her that Gage had come in from the stable. After he'd so bluntly told her that he wasn't interested in dealing with Lily, Jenna had decided it would be best to avoid him as much as possible. As it turned out, doing so hadn't been a problem. He rose early and stayed out with the horses most of the day, returning to the house only to grab a quick meal or make a phone call or two. Jenna had no idea what he did out there in the stable and other outbuildings. She'd been too busy with Lily, trying to unpack and get settled to give it much thought.

  She'd borrowed a high chair from Arlene, but realized that the other big-ticket items she needed required a trip into Forsyth. However, transporting a stroller and a crib and mattress would require the use of Gage's pickup. And since they weren't exactly speaking, she hadn't made it to town.

  Gage hadn't even approached her to complain that Lily was disturbing his sleep, and Jenna couldn't imagine that the baby's crying hadn't been keeping him awake. The first couple of days, she'd worried about it. But as the seemingly endless days and sleepless nights wore on, she just didn't have the energy to feel too concerned about Gage.

  Jenna looked at the whimpering baby and regretted her silent complaints. The good far outweighed the bad. Lily filled her days with many moments of sheer delight, but a body simply couldn't go for days without rest.

  Gage nodded at her in greeting when he entered the living room, his mouth a firm, straight line.

  "I made dinner," she told him over Lily's cries. "It's not much. I opened a tin of soup and made sandwiches. The soup just needs reheating, and your sandwich is in the fridge. I'd offer to —"

  "Don't give it another thought," he said.

  He'd told her early on she didn't have to cook for him, but it was just as easy to prepare a meal for two as it was for one.

  "I'm going to get a quick shower," he told her.

  As Jenna paced back toward the bedroom with the baby, she heard the water running in Gage's master bath. She sat down in the chair and rocked Lily, hoping she could get the baby to sleep before he finished.

  Although he wasn't outright hostile, he was quite cool. Her time in his home — in their short-lived marriage — didn't have to be like this. His unwillingness to make the best of the few months she'd asked for had proved without too much doubt that he had a wintry personality.

  Maybe he had perfectly good reasons for his behavior, but right now Jenna was simply too drained to ponder them.

  Nearly twenty minutes later, the baby's sobs persisted in tearing at her heart and jarring her nerves. The dull ache in her head had transformed into a pounding pain.

  She'd gone back to pacing and returned to the living room.

  "Lily," she murmured as calmly as she could, "please stop crying. Relax. Please, sweet stuff."

  "Jenna."

  She whirled at the sound of Gage's voice, unaware that he'd come into the living room.

  His long hair was damp. He sometimes secured it with an elastic band at the back of his neck, but now it hung loose about his shoulders. The fabric of the fresh gray cotton T-shirt he wore pulled taut across his broad chest, and a pair of black jeans hugged his thighs. His feet were bare and nicely shaped. She realized her gaze had lingered on them several seconds too long.

  She dragged her gaze back to his face. And although she was tired to the marrow of her bones, she couldn't stop the wayward thought running through her mind . . . the man's physique was impressive.

  Blinking several times, she inhaled deeply.

  "I'm sorry if she's disturbing you," she said. "I'm sure she'll be asleep soon. She simply can't hold out much longer."

  She fully expected him to march off to the kitchen, hut he took her completely by surprise when he came closer. The heated soapy scent of him swirled around her. "May I?"

  Jenna wasn't sure what he was asking, but then he reached out his hands. Stunned, she searched his gaze.

  "Let me have a go at this," he said softly.

  Jenna handed over the baby to Gage. It was amazing that someone so big and formidable could be so gentle.

  "Hey, Lily," he greeted. He didn't smile, but his tone was affable.

  Jenna couldn't say the exact moment the baby stopped crying. She didn't know if it had been upon Gage's approach, or at the sound of his voice, or when he'd actually scooped her in his arms. Jenna had been too focused on Gage to be conscious of it. All she did know was that the silence was truly blissful.

  Lily stared into Gage's face as if she were entranced.

  "Can I have that?" he asked, pointing to the receiving blanket that was draped over her shoulder.

  "Sure."

  Their fingers brushed when she handed it over, his work-roughened skin warm against her own. He moved to the couch, spread the blanket on the cushion as best he could with one hand and then placed Lily on it.

  "Little ones like to be bundled up," he said. He wrapped the baby in a neat little package, tucking the blanket around her. "It reminds them of the security they felt in their mother's womb."

  Jenna hadn't read that tidbit of advice on any of the Web sites she'd visited. All she could do was gawk as he picked up the now quiet baby and cradled her in the crook of his right arm.

  "Come," he said to Jenna. "Sit down. You look like . . . well, like you could use a break."

  Jenna was too darned tired to even smile at his remark. "You're being kind, I'm sure. I look like a bad train wreck."

  "I wouldn't say that."

  She paused before sitting down, some unexpected tone in his voice impelling her to take a moment to study his handsome face. Hut she wasn't able to discern if some hidden meaning lurked behind what he'd said, or if he was merely being polite.

  Sighing, Jenna took a seat and reclined against the couch back. "I feel as if I've been rocking her for hours. It hasn't been that long, I know, but ..."

  Lily let out the cutest coo Jenna had ever heard, and Gage chuckled. Although an unmistakable nervousness edged the sound, his deep, soft laughter resonated through her being.

  "I understand what you're saying," he said, his eyes never leaving Lily. "There's something about that cry that breaks your heart. And you have no idea if you're meeting their needs. The fact that they can't clearly communicate what they want with words makes it all the more frustrating."

  Ah, Jenna thought, so Lily's crying had disturbed his sleep.

  Amazed at the baby's reaction to Gage, Jenna said, "Look at how she's staring. It's almost as if you've hypnotized her or something."

  He smiled down at the baby and, again, chuckled. And for the second time, Jenna felt the vibration hum through her. She liked the sound. More than she probably should.

  "It could be that I've triggered a memory of her father."

  "Could be," Jenna agreed. "David had dark eyes, too. And he kept his hair long, like yours."

  But her brother-in-law hadn't been nearly as handsome as Gage.

&nb
sp; The thought made Jenna's breath catch in her throat. Exhaustion was really taking its toll on her.

  "She's so quiet," Jenna said, sliding a few inches closer to him. "Maybe I should go lay her down on the bed. Maybe she'll go to sleep."

  "And maybe she'll start crying all over again," he said. "She seems content enough right where she is. Why don't you take the opportunity to lay back and rest your eyes?"

  "Oh, no." She shook her head hard enough that a lock of her hair fell over her shoulder. "I couldn't do that."

  "Of course you can." Gage gathered the baby in his arm, bent over and curled the fingers of his free hand around her ankle. In one fluid motion, he scooted himself off the cushion and lifted her feet onto it.

  Jenna was very aware of the heat of his touch on her leg. Before she even realized what was happening, she was lying prone, her head resting against a throw pillow.

  "I really shouldn't, Gage," she murmured. "What if Lily starts crying? She fights sleep as if she were a boxer competing for the world title."

  "Tell me about it. She's a champ."

  She felt guilty again that her niece had been keeping him up during the night, but the humor in his lone helped her to relax.

  She stifled a yawn.

  "Like I said,” he continued, easing himself down onto an adjacent chair, "she seems happy at the moment. Close your eyes and enjoy the peace." He smiled. "However fleeting it turns out to be."

  She didn't understand why he was being so nice. The drowsiness closing in on her didn't let her think on it too hard.

  He had a nice smile, she thought as her eyes fluttered closed. Smiling was something he should do more often.

  "I'll work on that."

  The rich timbre of his voice sounded soft and fuzzy, as though he'd whispered the response into a long tunnel. Jenna was sure she must have dreamed it. She didn't think she'd voiced her observation aloud. And then she thought no more as she faded into exhausted oblivion.

  Jenna stirred and stretched, then opened her eyes with a soporific sigh. The sound of birdsong was so pleasant to her ears that the corners of her mouth curled. The delicious scent of smoky bacon and coffee wafted in the air, and her stomach grumbled.