The moment would have been perfect. Except she kept remembering his hesitation when she’d asked if things had always been this way between them.
What was he keeping from her?
A pinprick.
That’s what his hesitation felt like. Small, but deep. Capable of drawing both blood and infection. Shana believed him when he said he didn’t cheat. That’d been her greatest fear, an unfortunate assumption that came from growing up with a wildly unfaithful father, a man who’d strung her mother along for years while he had a secret family on the side.
If not cheating, then what would cause the misstep? Something clearly made Chuck squirm in discomfort. Tapping her temple lightly, she again tried to will the knowledge.
And... Nothing.
Again, she felt like a spinning top, circling endlessly.
She wanted to believe in him, to have more nights like the one they’d just shared. There had to be something between them that she remembered on a subconscious level because she’d never been the sort to fall into bed with a man she barely knew.
Her fingers itched to stroke back the sweep of hair from across his forehead, but she feared waking him. She wanted to study him awhile longer as if gathering these minutes to herself could somehow make up for the deficit of losing five years. As if she could bring the balance to at least a hint more of equality.
So many questions piled up in her mind, and not just about the time she was missing. Would their child look like him? What kind of parents would they make? Would she ever remember the night they’d made this child?
Her hand slid over her stomach, still flat. If it weren’t for the ultrasound, she wouldn’t have believed she was pregnant at all.
The amnesia had robbed her of so many things. But she wouldn’t let it stop her from sleeping with him again.
She pressed her palm to the hard-muscled plane of his shoulders and stroked lower, lower still, until his eyes opened—groggy, sure, but a smile creased his face.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, his voice early-morning hoarse.
“Good morning to you, too.” She slung her leg over his, sliding closer just as—
The doorbell pealed through the house once, twice, then a voice called out, “Hello?”
Chuck’s mother.
Again, his family was making themselves right at home. And their timing couldn’t be any worse.
Eight
Yanking a thick cable-knit sweater over his head, Chuck charged down the stairs, toward his mother, who was still in the entryway. He didn’t think she would actually come up to the second floor. Still, Jeannie and Shana had shared an ease and familiarity in the past. His wife had given his mom a key with Shana’s blessing to use it.
But that was then.
Now things were so very different. His progress with Shana was hard-won. He couldn’t take any risks that might upset the tenuous balance.
The heat of their night together was burned in his memory. Being with Shana had always been incredible, beyond anything he’d experienced with other women. But last night had surpassed even what had come before between them. He wanted to see where that connection could lead, but...
Jeannie leaned against the off-white couch. As always, his mother looked perfectly arranged. From the great window, sunlight glinted off her pearls. A staple of her wardrobe. Pearls that had been in the family for generations.
Moving farther into the living room, he feigned nonchalance as he pulled back the curtains. A light dusting of snow softened the horizon view, an elk leaving a trail of hoofprints on the pristine lawn.
“I’m sorry if I disrupted your morning,” Jeannie apologized, nodding toward his bare feet. “I brought food—a simple chicken-and-rice dish that always settled my stomach when I was pregnant.” She lifted a casserole dish, her smile genuine but concerned.
Growing up, food was what had woven together his family. Though lack of money had never plagued their family life, Jeannie refused to employ a cook. She’d preferred to prepare meals herself. Chuck’s earliest memories always seemed to place him back in the grand Mikkelson kitchen and his mother moving between island countertop and stove, the scent of spices heavy in the air. She’d made sure they’d built traditions. They all ate in the kitchen, no formal dining room stuffiness. She made it clear to her children that values were more important than money.
Which made him itch now, thinking about how he was skirting the truth with Shana.
“Thanks, Mom. Luckily Shana hasn’t been suffering from morning sickness yet, but we always welcome your cooking.”
Taking the still-warm plate from his mother’s manicured hands, he tilted his head, nodding toward the kitchen. A concerned smile still painted her lips as she smoothed her cream-colored cardigan before following him.
Toes touching the kitchen tile, Chuck tried to shake last night from his mind. He needed to focus on the present. He appreciated the support from his mother, but he ached to return to his bed, to Shana. He was anxious about the fragile rekindled connection. Hell, he wanted to bury his fingers in her honeyed hair.
Clearing her throat, his mother cut through Chuck’s thoughts. “Will you be joining us at the rodeo tomorrow afternoon? We’ve got a ringside box to cheer on Marshall.”
Chuck hadn’t given it much thought, with his life in so much turmoil. But it sounded like a good possibility for a date night with Shana, while also further acclimating her to his new extended family.
Marshall Steele had run the rodeo circuit for years. He’d retired after a string of injuries. While he popped out of retirement on occasion, he now managed the Steele ranch about an hour away from their family mansion—which also sported a barn as big as some farms. The Steeles did nothing on a small scale.
Chuck took the glass casserole dish from his mother and opened the fridge. Tension knotted in his shoulders. In spite of trying to accommodate thoughts of family plans, memories of Shana and their hot night together fogged his mind.
Jeannie let out a little laugh, fidgeting around the room, strangely distracted. “It’s not like you to sleep in.”
“I took a couple of days off,” he said carefully. His mom was intuitive when it came to her kids and he didn’t want to risk her censure over him being selective in what he shared with Shana about their marital troubles. His mother didn’t know about their plans to separate and he wanted to keep it that way.
“Like that ever made a difference to you before.” She turned to face him again and took a seat. “You’ve always been an early bird.”
Now he saw it in her eyes, the reason for her distractibility. She was concerned. As much as he wanted to rush her out the door and get back to Shana, he could spare a few moments to set her mind at ease.
Pulling a smile, Chuck nodded as his arm extended to the crisp white cabinets. His thumbs grazed the top of the glass as he pulled down a cut crystal tumbler. And then another. “Late night.”
“That’s right.” She smiled knowingly. “Yesterday was your anniversary.”
Opening the fridge again, he put space between her question and his answer, knowing how he responded would determine the remainder of the conversation. Snagging a bottle of sparkling water with a hint of lemon, he tilted the bottle to his mother in a silent question. And yeah, maybe he was stalling, too, because he felt guilty for not telling Shana the truth.
Jeannie’s gracious smile brightened her face as she nodded yes. But it was clear she waited for a different kind of response.
Ah, now they were at the crux of why she’d shown up today. She was curious as well as concerned. “We went on a stakeout to follow a lead on Milla Jones.”
Jeannie sat up straighter, her smile replaced by keen interest. “And?”
“It didn’t work out.” Well, the lead hadn’t played out, but it had certainly borne fruit for him on a personal level. “I’ll go wake Shan
a so you can visit.”
“Don’t bother her. Pregnant women sleep more.”
Unscrewing the sparkling water’s cap, he carefully poured the water before extending a glass to his mother. He knew that, about the extra sleep, but he didn’t want to dwell on the painful past, or what might or might not be in their future, especially not after last night.
“I’m very excited about my next grandchild.” She thumbed the band on her right hand, her ring from her first husband, who’d died. She wore Jack Steele’s ring on her left hand now.
“Cautiously so, I hope. We’ve been down this road so many times and it didn’t work out.”
The pain of those losses stayed with him still. Although he intended to do everything in his power to keep his child safe. To keep Shana safe.
Except even a perfectionist like himself knew his best might not be enough.
“I’m happy today about the baby.” She took his hands in hers and squeezed. “Joyful today. Let’s enjoy the moment.”
He picked through her words, searching for the takeaway. “Are you telling me I should stop worrying?”
“I wouldn’t presume.” She squeezed his hands again before letting go. “I know that’s impossible given Shana’s history with fertility issues, her amnesia and the pregnancy.”
He sagged back to rest against the granite counter, the weight of concern tugging at him. And he couldn’t deny the need to confide at least part of his worry to his mother. “If the doctor could give us a concrete reason why we keep having trouble... If there was something we could try that we hadn’t already. It’s not like bedrest would even make a difference. You probably aren’t surprised to hear I have a problem with accepting things I can’t change.”
“We would give our own lives for our children. That’s natural.” She cupped his face with one hand and patted. “I’m here for you anytime, and I don’t just mean with casseroles.”
He realized that. His whole family was there for him. They were tight that way, and he felt guilty for not holding up his end of things lately. “I’m sorry not to be as present at work these days.”
“Focus on what’s important,” she said without hesitation. “Everyone understands you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”
“You and Jack deserve to enjoy retirement—and being newlyweds.” Saying that still felt strange. Blending families—especially large, powerful families like the Steeles and the Mikkelsons—had been tougher than expected, even taking into consideration the two families’ business feud. Thinking about it gave him new insight into how painful Shana’s life must have been after her father’s betrayal.
“Don’t worry about the office, son. We have plenty of children between us to share the workload. You’ll end up owing someone something for helping you. Perhaps naming rights.”
He hadn’t even dared think about baby names. He and Shana had done that far too often only to be crushingly disappointed. But unloading those fears onto his mom might well open the floodgates to sharing others.
He’d built a careful house of cards here trying to win Shana back so they could have a life together and he wasn’t risking it.
He didn’t fail.
He settled on a lighthearted answer. “Letting the family pick names could go way wrong.”
She rolled her eyes. “Especially if Aiden gets a say.”
Which brought up a whole other concern. Chuck was too damn distractible these days, which was ironic since he spent most of his time working to distract Shana. Keeping her off the scent of his deception wasn’t easy, but he needed to forge ahead with the only strategy he had to win back his wife.
“Are Aiden and Alayna still flirting with each other?”
“It’s a crush,” Jeannie said dismissively. “He’s leaving for Juneau in the fall, transferring colleges.”
“A lot can happen between now and then.”
“Like I told Shana, they’re both over eighteen—”
“Adults living under your roof.”
“True enough.” She nodded without conceding. But she meant well, and her love was unquestionable. “I know your life feels chaotic right now, and that can make a person search for other things to control. But trust me, son. Jack and I have got this.”
There was nothing more he could do other than keep watch. His mother wasn’t the only stubborn one. “Fair enough.”
She eyed him for a few moments as if she might press him further. Then she sighed, picking up her sparkling water and sitting at the kitchen island. “Now tell me about the progress Shana’s making looking for Milla Jones.”
Chuck embraced the subject change, grateful for the distraction from talk of Shana. He needed time to get his head in order before facing his sexy, irresistible wife again.
* * *
Shana was scared to trust that all this joy could be real, holding Chuck’s hand as he led her through the rodeo crowd to their private section of the enclosed arena. The warmth and familiarity of his grip sent tingles through her, stirring memories of making love.
She had an attentive husband with chemistry off the charts. They had a baby on the way. And he was doing his best to romance her whether they were on a date for dinner or a stakeout or with family at a rodeo.
A high-pitched whinny cut through the cold Alaskan air, echoing in her chest. Something about the sheer excitement of it all also knitted rough-hewn anticipation into her very bones. Even the wind whipping across her cheeks caught her off guard, making her wonder if she was, in fact, dreaming.
Chuck opened a wooden bar, waving her toward their section of bleachers, which was already packed with Steeles and Mikkelsons. A bombardment of greetings swirled around her just before she and Chuck were separated by Jack dragging Chuck into a discussion. Her husband dropped a kiss on her lips with a quick apology before joining his stepfather.
She didn’t protest, and actually welcomed a bit of distance to regain her footing. Truth be told, the events of her life these past few weeks felt surreal. Hard to trust. Hard to believe, even though she moved through a seemingly perfect setup. The kind of life she’d never dared imagine to be hers.
Therein lay some of Shana’s cellular-level hesitation, a sixth sense of something amiss sounding a dull, constant warning in her head.
She shook off the premonition and looked around her. She’d never attended a rodeo before. Everything she knew about them had been gleaned from television shows. The real-life experience was so much more intense. The scent of hay and leather. The loudspeaker piping country tunes, the whinny of horses echoing in the background. And people, so many people gathered in the arena, an audience decked out in different colors of boots, flannel and fringed shirts. Bright lights glistened off an array of the biggest buckles she’d ever seen.
Shifting in her seat, she couldn’t deny how normal this felt. How natural. Catching a quick glimpse of Chuck, her stomach fluttered as she fully recognized the previously unnamed awareness. She could feel herself being drawn into this large family, the sort of family she’d dreamed of having while growing up as an only child with a distant father. Discovering her father had built that large family with another woman had been devastating to both Shana and her mom.
Again, she found her thoughts running to the past. But the distant past, not the past five years. Fidgeting in her seat, she picked at the ends of her hair. In some way, this repetitive motion grounded her to the present, to the sights and sounds of the here and now.
Though she sat beside Naomi, her eyes traced the muscular outline of Chuck’s broad shoulders. She appreciated the hint of his back muscles in that tight gray shirt. The deep rumble of masculine laughter drew her eyes to his seat mates—Jack Steele and Jack Steele’s much younger brother, Conrad. The trio appeared immersed in light conversation, judging by the way Conrad kept chuckling.
Her gaze fell away from the sights and sounds of her immed
iate vicinity and turned to her curiosity about the arena and the explosion of energy in the ring. A paint horse turned on a hairpin around one of the barrels. The young woman in a pink Stetson hat with silver embellishments seemed like a shooting star. Around the second barrel, the crowd gave an audible gasp as the rider lifted from her deep seat, nearly falling off the side.
Tension mounted in Shana’s throat. Seconds felt like years. Somehow, the girl managed to recover, throwing herself back into the saddle. Silently, Shana hoped this girl would make the best time. She felt a kinship to that tenacity.
As the horse and rider effortlessly curled around the third barrel, Shana felt the anxiety in her shoulders release as she relaxed into the teeming box filled with both Mikkelson and Steele family members.
Jack, the patriarch of the Steele clan, held a beer bottle in his left hand as he laughed and chatted with other family members. Ice Cap Beer, the family brewery, was one of the corporate sponsors for the rodeo. Banners featuring a scenic glacial lake, the immediately recognizable Ice Cap Beer logo, lined the arena between other banner-sized advertisements for feed stores and Western wear.
Naomi let out a gentle sigh beside her, bobbing her head, that dark, signature ponytail revealing the sharp, beautiful angles of her face. One of the twins slept soundly in her arms, seemingly unbothered by the chaos.
Shana’s hand slid over her stomach and she thought of her own child. This time next year, would she and Chuck be sitting here with their baby?
Chuck said there had been other pregnancies. She didn’t remember them, but even contemplating the loss was difficult.
Shana swallowed deep, feeling her throat clog with bubbling emotions. Forcing herself to the present, she leaned over to Naomi, softly brushing the woman’s shoulder in a cream sweater. “I can’t believe the twins are sleeping through all of this noise.”
Naomi smiled, her dark eyes dancing. “Any opportunity to wear them out, and the fact that they’re both tired at the same time is nothing short of a miracle.”
“They’re beautiful.” Shana skimmed her fingers lightly over the infant’s feathery-soft dark hair.
The Second Chance Page 10