by Jeanne Allan
Allie sat in a chair on the front porch, her feet propped on the porch railing. The metal porch glider creaked as Zane pushed it back and forth. The sun had disappeared over the Elk Mountains, but the earth held on to its heat for a little while longer. Soon they’d have to put on coats or go inside.
“We saw the foals today. Davy was scared of the mares.” Hannah propped her feet on one end of the glider, in imitation of Allie. Her head rested in her father’s lap.
Zane wrapped a red tendril around his finger. “When Grandpa Buck took you to the rodeo, you didn’t like the clowns.”
“I didn’t know they was Grandpa’s friends. I never saw clowns before.”
“Davy hasn’t been around horses much. He lived in a big city where there are cars and buses and subways but not many horses.”
“What’s a subway?”
“A train that goes underground.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “Like prairie dogs?”
As Zane explained, Allie’s mind drifted to her earlier conversation with Cheyenne. Allie knew what her sister meant. Allie couldn’t turn back the clock. Five years ago the door had closed on the future she’d dreamed of. That future didn’t happen, couldn’t happen, never would happen.
Allie couldn’t pretend those years hadn’t happened. Kim Taylor had died, but Allie couldn’t pretend Zane hadn’t married her. The way Allie had been pretending. Calling the woman Kim Taylor. She’d been Kim Peters. Zane’s first wife. He’d slept with her, made love to her, been there when she gave birth to his—their—daughter. Those were the facts. They would always be the facts.
Allie had no choice when Zane broke their engagement. She had a choice now. She could walk away. Tonight, tomorrow, at the end of the month, whenever she wanted. Or she could stay married to Zane. Commit to building a future with him. Not the future she’d once planned, but a different future.
“Allie!”
Zane’s tone told her he’d been calling her name for some time. “What?”
“Hannah asked you something.”
Allie smiled at the little girl.
“How come you don’t sit with us?”
“You two are too big. There’s no room.”
“Yes, there is. You can hold my feet.”
“As if I’d want to hold two stinky feet.”
Hannah sat up and scooted around. “Daddy will.”
“Well, if your daddy likes stinky feet.” Allie sat at the other end of the glider.
Hannah put her head in Allie’s lap and lifted her feet “You like my stinky feet, don’t you, Daddy?”
Zane captured her feet in one large hand and held them to his nose. “I love your stinky feet.” He inhaled deeply. “They smell like Allie’s neck.” He laid his hand along the back of the glider. His fingers brushed the top of Allie’s spine.
Hannah giggled. “Allie has a stinky neck.” She rested her feet on Zane’s shoulder. “Allie put her smelly stuff in my bathwater and I had lots of bubbles.”
Zane smiled at Allie over Hannah. “That was nice of Allie.”
“I’m a nice person.”
His fingers toyed with her neck. “Very nice.”
Nice didn’t seem such a disparaging word when a heavylidded, sensuous look accompanied it. Allie felt heat coiling deep within her. Waiting. Anticipating. Dam him. A man shouldn’t look so darned sexy when he sat on a glider with his daughter’s bare feet resting on him. He had no business giving a woman a “come to bed” look when he knew darned well they were hours from bed.
Two could play his game. Looking away, Allie smiled demurely and trailed her hand down Hannah’s side to rest it on Zane’s thigh. Fingers tightened around her neck. Her gaze flashed triumphantly to his, then her breath caught. Naked desire darkened Zane’s eyes to midnight-blue. Allie wanted to launch herself into the depths of those smoldering eyes.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Hannah pushed a heel against Zane. “Tell me a story ’bout the girl.”
Zane stilled, then looking away from Allie, suggested in an offhand voice, “How about the story about the mama bear who brought her babies to visit? I’ll bet Allie doesn’t know it.”
“I wanna hear ‘bout the girl. Tell the one ’bout her being a mama to baby birds and feeding them bugs. Allie don’t know that story.”
To the contrary. Allie knew that story very well. She stared at Zane in astonishment.
He avoided looking at her. “There was this girl—”
“Jane Donut,” Hannah prompted.
“Jane Donut. One day Jane was walking home from the school bus—”
“With her brother and two sisters.”
“Who’s telling this story, you or me?”
Hannah giggled. “You, Daddy.”
“Okay. Jane’s walking and she found—”
“Baby birds. Their mama and daddy was playing with angels.” Hannah clapped her hands over her mouth.
Giving her a playfully fierce look, Zane continued, lavishly embellishing his story with fanciful twists and turns. Allie wouldn’t have recognized the plucky heroine if she walked past her on the street. Which was odd since Allie had been the girl rescuing the bluebirds after a stray cat had eaten the parents.
Hannah sighed gustily at the happy conclusion. “Daddy knows lots of stories about Jane Donut. She helped animals all the time ’cuz she loved animals, right, Daddy?”
“She still does, honey.”
“How come you know her, Daddy?”
“I loved her.”
“Me, too,” Hannah said firmly. “We both love her, don’t we, Daddy?”
Zane hadn’t answered Hannah’s question. He didn’t have to. Sitting at breakfast the next morning, Allie knew the answer. He’d used love in the past tense.
Love. How she hated that word. What did it mean? Did it mean melting inside when a man smiled at you in a certain way? Was it knocking knees when a man undressed in front of you? Or incredible sensations when you made love to him?
Or was it the quiet contentment a person felt when a man listened to his daughter’s prayers? The admiration for the way he was raising his child with gentleness and loving discipline?
Allie had always known Zane’s good qualities. The way he treated animals. And people. Cowboys were too independent to stick with an unfair boss, and most of his hands had worked for him forever. Zane practiced wise stewardship of the land.
She twisted the wedding band on her finger.
“You never asked me about that,” Zane said, watching her.
She knew it was his great-grandmother’s ring. He’d planned to put it on Allie’s finger five years ago. When he produced it the morning of their wedding, she’d objected, unable to stomach wearing a ring Kim had worn. Obviously guessing her reasons for objecting, Zane had told her Kim never wore this ring.
“You didn’t ask why I bought a different ring for Kim.”
“I assumed she wanted something more modern.”
“She never saw this ring. I couldn’t give it to her. Not when it was supposed to be your ring.”
Not knowing how to respond, Allie held out her hand. “I’ve always liked it.”
“You can keep it. No matter what happens.” He shoved back his chair. “Thanks for fixing me breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.” She wasn’t sure why she’d risen early and cooked him bacon and eggs.
He stood across the table, his hands on the back of his chair. “We’re stacking hay today. I don’t know when I’ll be home. If I’m late, don’t wait dinner for me.”
“All right.” They sounded like any long-married couple.
“Well—” his fingers tapped the chair “—have a good day.”
“You, too.”
Zane didn’t leave, but stood there, looking at her.
She’d combed her hair in a hurry. It must be a mess. Allie ran a hand over it. Her imagination filled the silence between them with unspoken words with hidden meanings. Blindly she groped for her coffee mug, but a strange paralysis kept
her from raising the mug from the table.
He had a strong face. A rugged jaw. An adorable cleft to his chin. A woman could warm herself in the depths of dark, velvety blue eyes.
He’d warmed her beautifully last night.
She wanted him to kiss her. Heat rose to her cheeks and she dropped her gaze before Zane read her thoughts.
He walked around the table. “That was the best breakfast I’ve ever had.”
She couldn’t help laughing as his words pointed out the divergent paths their thoughts had taken. Not to mention the absurdity of the remark. “I’ll have to remember you like your bacon burned.”
Zane pulled her to her feet. “Remember more than that.” He crushed her lips beneath his.
Who knew the taste of bacon and coffee could be so exciting? Allie clung to him, weaving her fingers through his hair. Her feet bumped into his boots and she curled her bare toes over the scarred leather tops. Zane’s hands gripped her hips through her robe and pajamas as he thoroughly explored the depths of her mouth. With each beat of his heart, the scent of soap from his morning shower eddied in the air along with his personal, masculine scent.
When he slowly removed his mouth from hers, Allie shared his reluctance.
“Damned hay,” he muttered. “If I don’t get down to the barn, Wally’s going to come up here looking for me.” Shimmering desire evolved into wry amusement. “He’d probably be a little surprised if he found us making love on the kitchen table.”
“Not to mention what Ruth would think if she came in.”
Zane gave Allie a lopsided smile. “It would be your fault for looking so damned sexy in the morning.” He ran his finger down her cheek. “I love this little wrinkle your pillow made.”
“You silver-tongued devil.” Allie laughingly pushed away his hand. “Go to work.” As he walked out of the kitchen, she remembered the fanciful story he’d told Hannah and called after him, “I don’t remember any dinosaur or a handsome prince slaying bird-eating dragons when I took those baby bluebirds home.”
“I’m sure there was a handsome prince,” came his laughing reply.
Ruth walked into the kitchen. “You must be talking about Zane’s Jane Donut stories. There’s a handsome prince in all of them,” the older woman said, eyeing the skillet askance.
“I’ll wash it,” Allie said quickly.
“I’m a pro at burned pans. I’ve had lots of practice.”
“Thanks.” Allie dropped a quick kiss on Ruth’s cheek. “Then I’ll take a shower before Hannah gets up.” She stopped in the kitchen doorway. “A handsome prince in all of them?”
“I guess he figured if he couldn’t get the girl in real life, he could get her in his stories.” Ruth shook her head. “The things you got up to. I’d forgotten half of them.”
Allie fled to the shower. With water cascading around her, she leaned against the cool tile, a silly look on her face, and thanked whatever shred of common sense had kept her from sweeping the dishes from the table and making love with Zane.
Making love. However Zane had meant the words, Allie knew exactly what she meant when she thought them.
Making love. Not having sex.
So busy hating the Zane who’d jilted her, Allie didn’t know when she’d started loving the man Zane had become. Cheyenne had put her finger on the essential truth. Allie could fill her life with bitterness and revenge. Or she could close the door on the past and accept the golden possibilities before her.
Zane would never be a saint He had flaws. As if she didn’t. None of that mattered. What mattered was Allie loved him. He’d drive her crazy at times, annoy her. They’d fight. How they’d fight. They’d also make up. Allie idly ran the soapy washcloth over her breasts. She looked forward to making up.
She’d have to thank Cheyenne. Horrible thought. Allie might as well give her older sister an engraved invitation to interfere. Allie turned her grinning face up to the spray of water. Cheyenne deserved her triumph.
The past would be relegated to the past. Who cared about the past when the future held such promise? Allie no longer naively believed marriage to Zane meant a perfect life. There would be rough spots, hard times, struggles, but Zane would be at her side to share them. She’d be at his side.
He didn’t love her. Allie considered that. She hadn’t exactly been lovable. She loved him. She loved Hannah. Surely that was enough to start with.
Her mind made up, she squirted shampoo on her hair. Zane had insisted on marrying her, and he’d have to live with the consequences whether he loved Allie or not. He was going to have to learn to love his wife. His wife. For better or worse.
Even if they hadn’t said the words.
Small knuckles rapped on the shower door. “Allie?”
Allie saw Hannah’s rippled silhouette through the shower stall’s glass door. Zane’s wife meant Hannah’s mother.
Wearing a goofy grin, Allie reached for her towel and stepped out of the shower. Her sleepy-eyed daughter smiled back.
Ruth looked up from the kitchen sink as the screen door to the back porch slammed shut behind Zane. “You’re early.”
“Moving and stacking the hay bales went quicker than expected, so I told your husband to call it an early day. You might as well take off, and go home and hold hands with him.”
The housekeeper snorted. “Wally’ll have a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. We’re not newlyweds like some people I know.”
Zane laughed. He’d never been able to fool Ruth. Working for his parents, she’d helped raise him. Kim had wanted to fire Ruth, but Zane refused, and Kim quickly came to appreciate the benefits of having Ruth around to cook, do the housework and care for Hannah. Ruth and Zane had never discussed Zane’s first wife, and they never would.
Just as they’d never discussed Allie. Ruth had always liked Allie, but not by so much as a single word or action had she shown her disappointment when Zane messed up and had to marry Kim. Ruth had treated Kim like a guest. She treated Allie like a friend. Speaking of Allie... “Where’s my family?” He loved saying that. His family.
“Allie went to Aspen and took Hannah with her.”
For no logical reason, an uneasy feeling crawled up Zane’s spine. “She took Hannah? Just like that?”
“Isn’t that okay?”
“Sure, it’s okay.” Allie had acted oddly this morning. Cooking his breakfast. He should have questioned why. There’d been tension in the air. He’d labeled it sexual. Now he wondered. “I just thought, well, Allie didn’t mention going anywhere.”
“She didn’t decide to go until after Hannah ate breakfast. She called for an appointment to get her hair cut, and the salon had a cancellation this afternoon. With you eating lunch in the field, Allie thought Hannah might enjoy going along.”
He couldn’t dismiss his vague apprehension. “You know I don’t like Hannah riding in a car without her child safety seat.”
“Allie took the seat from my car.” Removing her apron, Ruth hung it on a hook. “They should be back soon. There’s a pot roast in the oven.” She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Allie won’t let anything happen to Hannah. She knows how to deal with the likes of the Taylors. You don’t need to worry.”
“You’re right.” Zane managed a smile. “I’m sure everything’s fine. They’ll be home before I get out of the shower.”
Hannah was perfectly safe with Allie, Zane told himself as he stepped into the shower stall. Allie taking Hannah to Aspen was no different from Ruth taking Hannah to the grocery store. He’d never worried about Hannah when she went with Ruth.
Ruth had never sat at the breakfast table measuring him with her eyes. Never tried to butter him up by doing something unexpected, something nice for him. As Kim did when she wanted something from Zane. He’d learned that the nicer Kim was, the less he could trust her.
He hadn’t a clue what Allie had been thinking this morning.
Which wasn’t a reason to worry. A man could go crazy trying to figure out
what a woman was thinking. He wasn’t worried. He was... Zane thought about it a minute. Annoyed, he decided. He was annoyed.
Common courtesy dictated Allie check with him before cavalierly walking off with his daughter. What if he’d had plans to do something with Hannah this afternoon? Take her for a ride or something. Zane lathered his body with increasing irritation.
Sure, he’d told Allie he might be late with the haying, but still... He stuck his head under the shower spigot. She could have swung by where he was working and told him her plans. Was going thirty minutes out of her way too much to ask?
He’d been pacing the length of the front porch for almost an hour when Allie’s car finally rounded the corner and drove under the gate. Hannah waved exuberantly from the back seat. Zane took the porch stairs in a single step and strode over to the car. “Where have you been?”
Leaning across the front seat to collect packages, Allie said over her shoulder, “Aspen. Didn’t Ruth tell you?” Looking up, she took in his clean clothes. “You finished early.”
“Daddy! See my new hat!”
Zane had to smile as his daughter peered from under an oversize floppy blue denim hat. A huge artificial sunflower pinned back the front brim. “I like it.” He eyed the packages on the seat beside Hannah’s car seat. More sacks rested on the floor. “What’s all this?”
“Allie and me went shopping.” Hannah raised her feet “I got sandals,” she said proudly.
The brown, clunky shoes were the ugliest Zane had ever seen. He helped Hannah out of the car.
His daughter ran over and put a foot by Allie’s feet. “They’re like Allie’s.”
The shoes didn’t look any better on Allie’s feet. He scowled at the sacks Allie piled in his arms. “Did you buy out the stores?”
“Just about. We had fun, didn’t we, Hannah?”
“I got yellow shoes and lots of new clothes for school.”
“School?”
“Nursery school,” Allie explained. “Once a week to start with.”