by Paty Jager
“Tate, where are you?” she called, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room. Flicking on the lights as she went, Carina peered behind and under furniture. There wasn’t any sign of the boy.
She hurried down the hall to the office. “Maddie, have you seen your brother?”
The girl pulled her attention away from the flickering computer screen. “Tate? No. Why?”
“I let him out of his high chair while I put the food away and he’s disappeared.”
Maddie’s eyes grew round and worried. “First Daddy’s missing and now Tate?”
The knot in Carina’s stomach sunk deeper and heavier. She’d lost Tate. After confessing she killed her own child to Brock, what would he think when he came home and found his son missing?
Nineteen
Brock could barely keep his eyes open driving the last mile to the house. After feeding the rest of the cows and making sure the cow and calf were out of danger, he drove a quick perimeter check. He only found cattle tracks. The sight lessened his anger, but it still ate at him, Johnson had the nerve to confront Carina. No doubt he had called her names. The man was known for his nasty tongue.
He didn’t think Johnson would trespass, but if he showed up at the house the night before, there was no telling what the man was thinking. Ever since Johnson’s wife died, he’d become obsessed with pulling the ranch out from under Brock and the kids and taking Maddie.
Driving up to the house, it surprised him to see all the lights blazing. It was midnight. Everyone should be tucked in bed.
Before the motor died, the back door flew open. A frazzled Carina hurried down the steps.
“I can’t find Tate.” The anxiety in her voice shook away his drowsiness.
“When did he disappear?” He took Carina by the arm, steering her back into the house.
“I set him on the floor while I cleaned up after dinner. When I turned around he was gone.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Maddie and I’ve looked everywhere.” She turned to him. The anguish on her face tore at his heart. “I have to leave. I can’t be around children.”
He wrapped his arms around the woman, consoling her while his mind raced to all the places he’d hid as a child.
“Did you try the space under the stairs?”
When she didn’t respond, he shook her gently. “Carina, did you check the space under the stairs?”
“What space? Maddie helped me look, she’d know about that wouldn’t she?”
“Not really, Maddie was never a hider.” Brock released her, moving through the mudroom and down the hall. He pushed aside an old table to reveal a small triangular hole. Kneeling, he looked into the small recess under the stairs. Sure enough, there was Tate curled up sleeping soundly with his stuffed bull.
Brock reached into the space, pulling out his son. With Tate cradled in his arms, he stood.
Carina rushed to them. “How did you know that’s where he was?” Relief softened her tense face.
“I was a boy once.”
Carina reached out to gently brush a blonde curl off his son’s forehead. The emotions on her face, triggered feelings Brock thought would never cross his heart again.
“Why would he crawl in there and not come when we called him?” Fear and uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “Did I do something to upset him?”
“I’m sure it was just a matter of him crawling into the space and falling asleep,” Brock said, mounting the stairs to put Tate in bed and distance himself from the woman who had crept into his heart with her tenderness and love of his children.
“I’ll wake Maddie and send her to bed before I warm up some dinner for you,” Carina said, moving to the sleeping child on the couch.
Only months before he would have fallen into bed exhausted and hungry, waiting till morning for breakfast. The woman who’d come into their lives was a blessing in more ways than one.
He placed Tate in his crib, bending to kiss his son’s soft, plump cheek, before he raised the railing. His children were all he needed to get through this life. His heart fluttered. Although, having someone caring and easy to be around like Carina made things simpler. No. No matter how much his body responded to her, he would not allow his mind to even think of a future with her. There were too many solid reasons to keep her out of his heart. One, the fact she was a city woman who would return when the novelty of country life wore off.
His stomach growled, reminding him the woman in his thoughts was in the kitchen making him hot food. Closing the door gently behind him, he headed for Maddie’s room. Sitting on the bed, he leaned down to give her a kiss.
“Daddy, it wasn’t Carina’s fault we couldn’t find Tate.” She sat up. “We were both worried about you, then Tate crawled off, and we didn’t know where to look.”
“I know, Freckles. But you don’t need to worry about me.”
“You were mad when you left. We thought you went to fight with Grandpa.” She hugged him tight around the neck.
“I’m not that stupid. I just had to let off steam. You know your grandfather gets me mad with thinking he knows what’s best for us. But I’ll never sell, and I won’t let him take you.” He smoothed her hair and kissed her head. “That’s a promise.”
“Why did Carina get so upset about Tate?” Maddie leaned back, peering into his face.
“Because of the child she lost. I don’t think she’s over it.”
“How can we help her?”
“I’m not sure, but she blames herself.” He smoothed her hair. If anything happened to Maddie or Tate, he’d be beside himself with grief. He couldn’t imagine what Carina had gone through.
“Do you think she’ll ever marry you?” The arched eyebrow on his daughter’s sweet face reminded him of Beth. She would want him to find someone to share his life with.
“I don’t know. She’s from the city. We know living out here takes some getting used to.”
“But you’ll ask her again?”
“We’ll see.” Brock stood, ending the conversation.
“If you didn’t mean it the first time you shouldn’t have asked.” The censure in her young voice dropped him back down on the mattress.
“Why do you say that?” He stared at her, knowing she couldn’t hide anything.
“Because you act like you really like her.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But act like a scared horse when you talk about marriage. Don’t let Cindy and Mommy bother you.”
The instincts of his daughter once again caught him unaware. “Why do you say that?”
“You haven’t been interested in anyone since Cindy left. And you keep saying you don’t need a woman.” She grasped his hand, holding it between her two small palms. “But you like Carina, I can tell. And she likes you. She’d stay if you asked her.”
Dread lay in his stomach like a rock. Did he want Carina to stay? Yes. He enjoyed having the stress of worrying about the kids lifted by having her there. And he enjoyed watching her interact with his children. His body heated, and yes, he wanted her to stay because he enjoyed her soft and willing body in his arms. But would the novelty wear off for both of them? If so, he had to let her go before his children became hurt from the separation.
“I’ll think about it. Go to sleep.” He kissed her cheek and settled her back under the covers.
Descending the stairs, he thought about Maddie’s words. Carina had become an important part of his children’s lives. His heart picked up speed thinking of their night together and their almost tumbles in the hay. Her leaving wouldn’t shatter his world—not really.
The smells wafting from the kitchen quickened his step. The sight quickened his heart. Carina leaned over the table placing food in the middle and straightening the place setting. Her hips rested against the top, while her round, firm bottom greeted his entrance.
Lust hit him hard as he stepped through the doorway. No woman had ever brought his body to the boiling point like the woman turning and smiling timidly. He crossed the room, and pulled her into his
arms while running his hands up under her shirt. Her silky skin and curves aroused and satisfied.
“Don’t” she said on a sharp intake of breath.
“Don’t what?” Her body stiffened under his caress.
“Don’t touch me like that.”
The succinct words made him slowly slip his hands from under her shirt. When his palms met the cold air, he yearned to return them to her warmth, but the blank look and firm line of her lips told him to back off.
He’d done nothing since returning to be treated coldly. Incensed at himself for his boldness and at her for allowing all that had transpired before, he refused to retreat. “What makes me unpleasant all of a sudden?”
“Not unpleasant. Never.” She cast her gaze to the floor, swallowed, then looked back up at him. The determination in her blue eyes made his chest constrict. She was about to hit him with something.
“You have been without a woman for a long time. My being under your roof and vulnerable has led me to make bad decisions.” She held up her hand when his mouth opened to speak. “I don’t blame you. I’ve been a willing accomplice to our trysts. But I can’t let my body rule my head, and I can’t stay here any longer.”
“Because of me? I can keep my hands to myself.” He took a military stance, clasping his hands behind his back.
A weak smile wavered on her lips. “No. Not because you can’t keep your hands to yourself. I lost your son tonight. I’ve grown fond of your children, and I can’t stay here and wonder each day if I’ll do something that will harm them.” The tears and pain glistening in her eyes made it hard for him to keep his hands behind his back.
“You didn’t put my children in danger. Tate’s a boy. Boys do things that make you fearful, but you didn’t do anything that would cause him harm.” He couldn’t stand back any longer. Stepping forward to gather her in his arms, she moved to the side, avoiding his embrace.
Carina wanted to feel his strong arms and believe his words, but she couldn’t go through another day of fearing she’d put these children in jeopardy.
“Don’t make this harder for all of us,” she said, moving to the sink. “Sit down and eat. I’ll leave in the morning.”
Brock’s warm breath against her neck made her gasp. The heat of his body pressed against her back sent tingles along every nerve. When he touched her, all sense of reason left. This was what she’d hoped to avoid.
The deep voice seducing her whispered, “You would never intentionally hurt a child or any human being. You have no reason to feel guilty.”
Fear gripped her. She turned, finding her nose pressed into the soft flannel of his shirt. Placing her hand on his firm chest, feeling the warmth of him under the worn material, she wanted to curl into his arms and savor the husky scent of him. But, she couldn’t. She had to remain strong.
Pushing away, she said, “You know nothing about my baby.”
“I know whatever happened wasn’t your fault. And I don’t believe you’d just run out on the kids like that. Not give them a chance to get used to the idea you’re leaving.” The frustration in his voice tugged at her conscience. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared into her eyes. Could he see the longing in her heart? She wanted to stay. But she couldn’t until she came to grips with the guilt plaguing her.
“I’m not running out. I’m sparing them.”
“That’s not how they’ll see it.” He grasped her shoulders. Carina didn’t want to argue with him. She’d had all she could take emotionally with the events of the evening. His touch was magnetic. She wanted to press her body against his and forget everything other than the feel of his hands and the taste of his kiss.
Gazing into his brown eyes, she dug deep to conjure up the strength needed. “You don’t know me as well as you think.”
“I think I know you better than you know yourself.” Brock slid his hands down her arm, spreading ripples of heat. “I say you sit here and tell me about losing your child while I eat.”
Feared ricocheted in her belly. She relived that day every night when she shut her eyes. “I-I can’t.”
“You aren’t leaving this house until I know what happened to make you think you caused your child’s death.” The anger in his words sent chills down her back.
She pulled the plate out of the oven and set it on the table. “Good night.” Tossing the hot pads on the table, she turned to leave. Brock grasped her arm firmly and pulled her onto his lap.
“Sorry. I’m not eating and you’re not going to bed until I find out why you blame yourself.” He circled her with both arms, holding her on his lap as his warm breath brushed across the top of her head.
“Why are you being so stubborn?” Tears slid down her cheeks. No one had ever asked her about that day. Not her mother or Perry. Everyone had been sympathetic, but no one asked how she really felt about the incident.
“Because I want to see how you can blame yourself for something you had no control over.” He hugged her and rested his chin on her head. “Start whenever you want. I don’t mind sitting here all night holding you.”
She wanted to snuggle against him and shut her eyes. However, she knew better than to let her defenses down around this man.
“What were you doing that day? Picking out baby stuff?” His non-committal question caught her off guard.
“I was helping Mom clean her shop and move furniture. We dusted and moved small pieces around to make it look like she had new inventory. Then I had an idea to set up a gorgeous old carved bed she had in the back of the store. It was close to the holidays, and she could fix it up like a scene from the “Night before Christmas”.” Carina smiled, remembering how excited they both were over the idea.
“What happened after you rearranged the store?” His low, soft voice sounded like her own conscience urging her on.
“I went home. There was a message from Perry he wouldn’t be home for dinner. A business meeting. He had meetings every night then. He was moving up. I heated up a bowl of soup and sat down on the couch. I must have dozed off. I woke…” She swallowed and clutched her stomach. The pain she’d felt that night ripped through her just as violent.
“Shhh. You’re okay.” Brock put his hand on her stomach and gently rubbed, releasing the tightness the memory brought on.
“I-I felt wet—between my legs.” She curled against Brock. “I called my Mom, and she came and took me to the hospital.”
“Where was your husband?” His censure cut through her painful recollection.
“No one could find him.” The anger she’d felt that night at going through the brutal miscarriage alone struck her again. Her hands fisted as she clutched Brock’s shirt.
“Is this the health problems you hinted at that first night on my porch?” His question threw her off.
“Y-yes.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me? None of this is your fault. It was an accident.”
“No, if I hadn’t insisted on moving that heavy bed, I’d have a child to hold in my arms and love.” She pushed at him. Didn’t he see? She was at fault. She knew better than to strain in the last stages of pregnancy. She’d read all the books.
Brock took her head in his hands and looked into her eyes. “You had nothing to do with what happened. Fate took that child from you. There was nothing you could have done differently.” He hugged her. “I know if something happened to Maddie or Tate, I’d be beside myself with grief. I understand the grief, but not the blame.” He held her away from him. Conviction shone in his eyes. “You would never hurt anyone. Don’t hurt yourself.”
“I didn’t even get to hold her.” Carina broke into sobs of grief. No one had let her hold her baby.
Twenty
Carina stretched. That was the best night’s sleep she’d had in over a year. She rubbed her eyes. It felt like the Sahara desert moved under her eyelids. Her throat was raw. She ran her hands over her puffy face. Physically she was a wreck, but emotionally she felt better. Finally someone had allowed her to grieve.
/> But what must Brock think of her this morning? She dressed quickly and headed to the kitchen.
The man in her thoughts stood at the sink filling the coffee pot. “Morning,” she said, moving past him to grab the skillet.
“You still plan to leave today?” His quiet question shook her.
“If you think it’s—” Before the words were out, his arms embraced her and his lips seduced hers. The skillet fell to the floor with a thud when her arms wrapped around his neck. He lifted her off the ground, kissing her neck. She leaned back, allowing him all he wished.
“Sheesh!” Maddie’s voice invaded the humming in Carina’s head.
She unhooked her arms, and Brock slid her down the front of him until her feet landed on the floor.
“It’s not nice to sneak up on people,” Brock said, tucking Carina to his side.
“Not like you two weren’t making too much noise to hear me.” Maddie picked up the skillet and placed it on the stove.
Carina’s face heated. What must the girl think of them? Of her?
“You’re right Maddie, we shouldn’t be acting like that.” Carina stepped away from Brock. He gathered her back beside him.
“You need to get used to this.” Brock said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “We worked things out last night.”
Carina’s heart pattered as her stomach took a dive. What had they worked out? She turned to Brock with her hands on her hips. “We did?”
Maddie jumped up and down. “You asked her to marry you!”
Carina backed up, holding her hands out in front of her. “We didn’t talk about any such thing.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you saying this? Are you trying to make me feel worse if I decide to leave?”
“You can’t leave!” Maddie exclaimed, throwing her arms around Carina.
Her stomach did another flip, Carina glared at Brock. What was he trying to do?
She continued to stare daggers at Brock as the phone on the wall trilled. He growled and moved across the room, snatching the receiver from the instrument.