Sultry

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  Mitch couldn’t say a word. At that particular moment, he was struggling to keep from drowning in his own misery. God, he didn’t know how badly he’d wanted this child until it was lost to him.

  As for Lindsay—he couldn’t begin to know what she must be feeling, especially since the baby had been part of her flesh. He lifted his head and took a deep breath, then lowered his gaze back to Lindsay. He had to be strong. They couldn’t both fall apart. And she had earned the right.

  “We don’t know why, my dear,” Dr. Mason was saying. “Sometimes we never know. But if there is a reason, we’ll find it.” He paused again and patted Lindsay’s arm. “I’ll be back shortly to check on you.”

  The heavy silence was all-consuming as Mitch eased down on the side of the gurney, still holding her frail hand in his. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, feeling his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

  “Oh, Mitch!” she cried, diving into his arms. “Why did our baby have to die?”

  “I don’t have that answer, my darling,” he whispered, burying his face in the sweet fragrance of her hair, hiding his own tears.

  He held tightly as she continued to weep against his chest, her slender body convulsing against him.

  For a moment he thought he couldn’t bear to hear those pitiful sounds coming from her throat, but he had no choice but to listen. She needed him. And he couldn’t let her down.

  When the siege was over and she pulled back, he wordlessly and tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “I want to go home,” she said, her eyes having taken on a disturbing vacancy.

  Mitch knew where home was, and while that request kicked him in the gut, he would cut his tongue out before he’d say anything to the contrary. As it was, she didn’t need any more grief. If she wanted to be with her daddy, then so be it.

  Besides, maybe that was the best place for her, though he would take her to the cabin in a heartbeat if she were to say the word. But he had his own healing to do, and in his own way.

  The wreckage inside her was visible; it showed in her eyes, in her face, in her voice. But he couldn’t let his grief out that way. He wished he could. He wished he could break down and sob, just the way she had done. But his pain was a huge, hard knot deep inside his gut that threatened to spread and poison every vital organ in his body.

  “I’ll be right back—that is, if you’ll be all right.” Mitch stood, then eased her back down on the stark white sheets, noticing there wasn’t much difference between their color and that of her face.

  She turned on her side and stared into space out of those wide, empty eyes. His heart wrenched as he peered down at her for another long moment before turning and striding out, his mind a sudden hotbed of unsavory thoughts and unanswered questions.

  He found the specialist out in the hall and didn’t mince time or words. “Doctor, from all accounts her pregnancy was normal, right?”

  The man didn’t hesitate. “Right.”

  “So why did she lose the baby?” Mitch didn’t try to contain the desperation gnawing at him. “There has to be a reason.”

  The look in Dr. Mason’s eyes bordered on pity, and when he spoke his tone was almost too sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but there doesn’t. Sometimes we just have to accept what fate deals us.”

  Mitch’s piss factor shot into the danger zone. “That might be the way you work, but not me. I don’t deal with fate.”

  Dr. Mason frowned. “So what are you suggesting?”

  “That you find out why my wife miscarried our baby.”

  “I don’t think you heard—”

  Mitch interrupted. “I heard every word you said, but I want a definitive answer.”

  “What if there isn’t one?”

  “I can’t accept that.”

  “Do you know something I don’t know, Mr. Rawlins?” The doctor’s gaze pinned Mitch. “The way you’re pushing this thing makes me think you do.”

  Did he? Or was he looking for a scapegoat, someone other than nature to blame for the loss of his child? He didn’t know, but what he did know was that the conversation he’d heard between Tim and an unknown party concerning Mexico and prescription drugs had once again reared its ugly head.

  And the fact that Lindsay had taken medicine from Tim’s supply at home made that thought even uglier.

  Of course, there was probably no connection, he reasoned, nothing to get bent out of shape about. But the suspicion was there nonetheless, and he had to act on it. Much to his chagrin, he was finding that old habits did, indeed, die hard.

  “Mr. Rawlins?”

  Mitch heard the impatience in the doctor’s tone and jerked his thoughts back in order. “Run some tests on the medicine she took, okay?”

  “The medication will show up in her blood work, which is being done, of course, and I’ll be reviewing it.”

  “When you do, let me know.”

  With that, Mitch turned and went back to Lindsay, his face grim and his heart in shreds.

  “Oh, Lindsay, I’m so sorry!” Mary Jane cried into the receiver.

  “Me too,” Lindsay replied in a dull, listless tone.

  “I won’t ask if you’re all right, because I know you’re not.”

  Lindsay stifled a shudder as Dolly strode into the sunroom with a fresh pot of peppermint tea. Lindsay had just come downstairs and settled on one of the cushioned sofas when she got the call from Mary Jane, demanding to know why she hadn’t heard from Lindsay.

  Lindsay had told her about the baby.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Mary Jane repeated. “I wish there was something I could do.”

  “Me too—only there’s not.”

  “How did Mitch take it?”

  “Not well, or at least I don’t think so. The whole way home from the hospital, we didn’t talk. He looked beat and totally unapproachable. I haven’t seen him since.”

  “And Cooper?”

  Lindsay sighed. “I told him this morning. He seemed more angry than sad.”

  “That figures,” Mary Jane said in a huffy tone.

  “I don’t know if I can pick up the pieces this time, M.J.,” Lindsay said in a broken voice.

  “Sure you can, my friend. You have no choice. So don’t let me hear you talk like that again, you hear?”

  “All right.”

  “You still have Mitch, and the fact that you love him hasn’t changed.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “Then you should be with him. To hell with what Cooper thinks or says.”

  “I don’t know how Mitch feels about me.”

  “It’s time you asked him,” Mary Jane told her bluntly.

  Lindsay felt her eyes fill up with tears again. She blinked them back.

  “Look, I’ll see you soon,” Mary Jane said. “And we’ll talk some more. Meanwhile, know that I love you.”

  Once Lindsay pushed the off button on the cordless phone, she stared through the window. Not a cloud in the sky, she thought, watching a bluebird bathe himself, and with such fanfare, too.

  A smile almost curved her lips, but it never quite made it. Her heart couldn’t even muster up the energy to pull off so simple a gesture.

  Her baby was gone. She had to accept that. Somehow she knew that she would. But she had to go through the grieving process in order to heal from the inside out.

  If only Mitch were here. Suddenly she ached for him, ached to smell him, to hold him, to sink her soul into his. But she didn’t know how to tell him how she felt, for fear of rejection.

  Now that the tie that bound them—their baby—had suddenly been severed, he might want his freedom back. He might want to end their marriage.

  Yet he’d been so tender, so caring, when he’d held her in the hospital, she would swear he cared deeply for her. If so, why hadn’t he told her?

  But then, she hadn’t told him how she felt, either.

  Cooper’s face rose sharply to mind. If she chose Mitch over him, her daddy would never forgive her. Her heart
balked. Although she was angry and felt betrayed by her daddy, she couldn’t imagine not having him in her life.

  But Mitch was her husband, and she loved him and wanted to be with him.

  And she had no doubt that he, and he alone, was the panacea she needed to help fill the void that losing her baby had created. Somehow, she had to find the courage to tell him.

  “Great,” Mitch muttered savagely.

  He saw Cooper making his way toward him. Still, he kept right on working. Another tree had succumbed to the wet ground and toppled over behind the greenhouse. The crew had sawed it into big logs; he was now splitting those into more firewood.

  The backbreaking task had helped him vent his pain over losing the baby and the hopelessness concerning his relationship with Lindsay—a hopelessness that was an invisible malignancy threatening to devour him.

  God, how he loved her, how he wanted to hold her, absorb her pain, make her healthy and whole again. How he wanted her to love him, to make another baby with her.

  “Turn around, damn you.”

  Cooper’s sneering voice was behind him now. Slowly Mitch turned and, with features devoid of expression, faced his father-in-law. “What can I do for you?”

  Cooper’s eyes held a steady glower. “I want you to know that I’m holding you responsible for what happened to Lindsay.”

  “And I accept my share of that responsibility.”

  “If you hadn’t pursued her,” he ranted, “she would have married Peter, and none of this would have happened.”

  “That might be true—only we’ll never know, will we?”

  A vein in Cooper’s neck was beating furiously. “If it weren’t for my daughter, I’d do whatever it took to get you off this property.”

  “Remember, if I go, Lindsay goes with me.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about Lindsay, you cocky bastard.”

  “Cooper—”

  “I’m not finished. Because of you, Lindsay will likely suffer another breakdown and won’t be good for anything or anyone.”

  Mitch almost choked on his fury as he struggled to keep from strangling the older man. “If you weren’t such an old fart who didn’t know when to shut up, I’d mop this dirt up with your ass!”

  Thirty

  Tim walked into his office at home and looked around.

  He didn’t want to be here. But he’d pushed his luck as far as it would go, having managed to escape an extra day, though his daddy hadn’t exactly been thrilled, pointing out that he had patients who needed him. But Tim hadn’t cared. Although fishing wasn’t the great love of his life—not by any stretch of the imagination—it had been an excuse for getting away from the office.

  It was times like these, when his insides were in an upheaval, that he wondered why he’d ever followed in his father’s footsteps. Caregiving hadn’t turned out to be his strong suit. In fact, the more he was around his whiny patients, the more he disliked his job.

  Money. That had been the reason he stuck it out. He’d known he had the potential to make mega-bucks, just like his old man. But for various reasons his pot of gold hadn’t materialized. Maybe his patients could see through him, sense that his heart wasn’t in what he was doing, that he was only in it for the money.

  Tim sighed suddenly, tossing those unwanted thoughts aside. Until his pharmacies started making big money, he had no choice but to keep practicing medicine. Even though his finances were looking up, his creditors were still lined up, waiting their turn to get a chunk of his ass.

  Plopping his bag onto the nearest chair, Tim headed toward his desk. He wondered where Eve was. He had expected her to be there, seeing as she’d known he was due home.

  He was actually looking forward to drinks and a quiet dinner with her. Maybe she’d left him a note. His eyes scanned the top of his desk. That was when he saw it.

  An open box of sample drugs stared back at him.

  He frowned in confusion. What the hell?

  “Tim?”

  “In here.”

  Moments later, Eve walked into the room, her features sober. When she paused in front of his desk, making no effort to kiss him, he knew something was wrong.

  “Have you been home long?” she asked.

  “Nope. Just got in.”

  “Then you haven’t heard.”

  Chills feathered his spine. “Heard what?”

  “About Lindsay.”

  “What about her?”

  “She lost the baby.”

  “Good God.”

  “She got really sick to her stomach and ended up in the emergency room.”

  “When?”

  “Last night.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yes, at least physically. Mentally, she’s pretty torn up.”

  “I can imagine.” Tim fiddled with his glasses. “Do you know any of the details?”

  “Actually, I was the one who took her the medicine.”

  “What?” Tim demanded, his eyes narrowing.

  Eve pointed to the box on the desk. “Since she was so sick and time was of the essence, Dolly called to see if you might have the drug her doctor prescribed. Luckily I found it in the closet and ran it over there.”

  Tim sat down, a funny feeling settling in his lower belly. “Yeah, that’s a good thing.”

  Eve cocked her head. “Are you all right?”

  “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

  “I think it would be nice if you paid your sister a visit. Things are not great for her right now.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Tim said, trying to rein in his scattered thoughts. “Under the circumstances, I imagine Daddy’s fit to be tied.”

  “Don’t you know it.”

  “He asked me to try and talk some sense into my sister, but as it turned out, I would’ve been wasting my breath. She was already married.” He paused. “I’m still reeling from the fact that Rawlins got her pregnant and that she married him.”

  “It shocked me, too,” Eve said. “But then, that’s her business.”

  Tim rubbed his mustache, then responded tersely, “No, it’s family business. Any time there’s a scandal, it involves all of us.”

  “Please don’t get started on that. Like I said, Lindsay needs your support, not your censure.”

  Tim leaned back in his chair and released a harsh breath. “I know.”

  “So how soon will you be ready for dinner?”

  “As soon as I clean up.”

  Eve nodded, then left the room. But Tim didn’t move. That funny feeling in his belly had turned into something else—full-fledged panic. Could the drug she’d taken be in any way responsible for what had happened?

  What if the black market medications he’d started selling in his pharmacies were not the real thing? His panic burgeoned, and for a moment he couldn’t seem to get his breath.

  Could his supplier have duped him?

  No, he told himself, refusing to admit that his ticket out of his financial hole could have caused a death, much less that of his sister’s baby.

  Just the thought of it turned his stomach to such a degree that he lunged out of his chair and strode out of the room. However, he couldn’t outrun his tormented thoughts.

  They tagged along beside him.

  “I thought I might find you here.”

  Lindsay had watched Mitch ride up on horseback as she sat on the grass, propping her back against a huge oak draped in moss. She had come to her favorite place once again, and for much the same reason as before: to find solace.

  Now, as Mitch dismounted and came toward her, Lindsay suddenly realized that his unexpected presence had done what solitude and nature hadn’t been able to do, and that was perk her up.

  As always, Mitch appeared so big, so hard, so in control. On closer observation, however, he wasn’t as much in control as she’d thought. The grooves around his mouth were deeper, and shadows lurked in those eyes that hadn’t been there before.

  What if he’d come to tell her it
was all over, that he wanted his freedom?

  “Dolly told me you were here,” he said in a soft but husky tone. “I hope that’s all right.”

  “Of course it is,” she said, peering up at him. “You’re my husband.” Now why had she said something stupid like that? She felt color invade her cheeks as he plopped down beside her, though he didn’t touch her.

  “Mmm, I like the sound of that word,” he told her, removing his hat and laying it on the ground.

  She felt her color deepen as his eyes probed hers. “You do, huh?”

  “Yeah, it has a nice ring to it, sorta like ‘wife.’”

  Lindsay felt her pulse quicken, and for a moment she couldn’t say anything, especially when the heat that suddenly flared between them became almost palpable.

  Finally she asked in a halting voice, “Does that mean you want to stay married?”

  “Only if you do,” he said, reaching out a hand and brushing strands of hair off her face.

  That wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but she guessed it was better than nothing. Lindsay swallowed against the intensity of the heat.

  “I’m…so sorry about the baby,” she said, tears blurring her vision.

  “Hey, it’s not your fault.”

  She sniffled. “What if it is? What if it was something I did?”

  “Don’t say that.” This time his voice sounded encased in steel. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Oh, Mitch,” she sobbed, “I can’t seem to pull myself back together. What if I have another breakdown?”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  He pulled her against him then and held her, pressing her face into his chest. She could hear the loud beat of his heart in her ears as she burrowed even closer, feeling some of the pain inside her ease somewhat. This was where she belonged. When his arms were around her, she was no longer afraid; the demons couldn’t overtake her. If only he didn’t ever have to leave her.

  “I’m so afraid, Mitch. I feel so alone, so—”

  “God, Lindsay, don’t say that. You’re not alone like you were when your mother died. You have me. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  She drew back and looked at him. “I wish I could believe that.”

  “Well, believe it,” he said fiercely, “because that’s the way it is.”