A Child Under His Tree

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  “Stop being suspicious and just open it.”

  She pressed her lips together. She’d known him nearly her entire life. A gift shouldn’t make her feel so strange. But it did.

  She slipped her finger beneath the edge of the brown paper and tore it back.

  Then all she could do was stare at the pale pink-and-blue wedding-ring pattern of the quilt beneath.

  “I ran into Lucy at the auction,” he said after a moment. “She told me what you’d said about the quilt.”

  Kelly’s vision blurred. She smoothed her hand over the soft cotton, pushing away the paper to reveal even more. “You went to the auction.”

  “A lot of people went to the auction. There were probably a hundred people when I got there.”

  “Did Lucy tell you to buy it?”

  “No. But it seemed like you ought to keep one good memory from your childhood. If you don’t want it, we’ll just—”

  “I want it,” she whispered. “I want it very much.” She wasn’t sure if she meant the quilt or the sweetness behind the gift. She just knew she wanted it—wanted everything—as much as she ever had.

  From the backyard, Bingo was barking and Tyler was laughing, and she looked up at Caleb.

  She wanted everything even more than she ever had before.

  “Thank you.” She reached up and pulled his head down to press her lips to his.

  He went still for a surprised moment. “If I’d known it only took a quilt—”

  She kissed him again.

  And his arms circled her back, pulling her close as his mouth opened over hers.

  “Looking good, Dr. C,” someone catcalled, and she sprang back to see a young man jogging past.

  She flushed, glancing away from Caleb. She held the quilt against her chest, glad that the way her heart was pounding wasn’t visible from the outside. “I...I should, um, probably see what Tyler’s up to. Figure out some dinner for him. Is there anything you want?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, and she gazed back up at him, feeling her mouth go dry and her heart chug even harder at the steady look in his eyes.

  “Whatever you’re offering,” he said.

  She swallowed. “Steak,” she said abruptly. He was the son of a cattle rancher. He’d always liked steak. He was sure to have one or two on hand.

  He smiled faintly. “That’ll do for a start.”

  His words hung in her head for the rest of the day. Through steaks that she broiled in the oven since he had no grill, through the bath she wrangled Tyler into and finally through the awkwardness of asking Caleb where Tyler should actually sleep.

  “You two can take the bedroom,” he said. He was sprawled on his couch wearing jeans and a T-shirt with an unexpected pair of reading glasses perched on his nose as he read a medical journal. He’d turned on the fireplace, and Bingo was sprawled over his bare feet. “I’ll take the couch.”

  They were not exactly the words she’d expected, and she felt her shoulders droop a little. She was going to go through the rest of her life and not be able to predict the man.

  When she’d come to Weaver in the first place, she’d intended it to be a couple weeks’ time. Everything she’d brought to her mother’s house she’d been able to pack up that morning and bring to Caleb’s apartment. It amounted to two suitcases and a satchel full of Tyler’s toys. She’d left them all stacked by the fireplace in the living room, but Caleb had moved them into the bedroom while she’d been busy supervising Tyler’s bath. She searched through them until she found his pj’s and tried not to think too hard about it when she shooed him up onto the middle of Caleb’s wide bed and sat beside him. “Let me feel your cast again.”

  Tyler dutifully held up his arm. The cast was fiberglass with a water-repellent liner, but Kelly still preferred keeping it as dry and clean as possible, which was why bath time was such a joy. Tyler did not particularly care for having his arm wrapped in plastic and duct tape. “When do I getta get it off?”

  She’d intended to be back in Idaho by now. “I have to get your records transferred here. Caleb can decide for sure, but probably in a few more weeks. That’s when you’d have gotten it off if we were back home.” By Thanksgiving.

  She pushed away thoughts of the looming day.

  “But home is here now. You said so.”

  “I did.” She tapped his cast, which was satisfactorily dry. In the time since he’d gotten it, he’d amassed quite a collection of artwork and names on it. Particularly in the past week, when all of his new classmates had signed it.

  “Can Caleb read me a story?”

  “He can,” Caleb’s voice assured.

  They both looked over at the doorway where he was standing. Bingo darted into the room, launching onto the blue comforter.

  Kelly swallowed and slid off the bed. “His books are there in the bag.” She didn’t have to tell him which ones Tyler liked the best. He’d been discovering that all the past week.

  “You stay, too, Mommy.” Tyler wriggled under the comforter and patted the bed on one side of him. “Right here.”

  She sat next to him where he wanted, and Bingo nosed her way onto Kelly’s lap.

  “You gotta lie down. Like you always do.”

  Her gaze skidded over Caleb. She moistened her lips, rearranged the puppy and stretched out next to Tyler.

  “Now you, Daddy.” Tyler patted the other side of the bed, innocently oblivious of the way Caleb had gone still.

  Her throat tightened as she watched him grab the thick book of robot stories from the bag and tuck it under his arm before pulling off the black-framed reading glasses and polishing them on the hem of his shirt. Then he put them back on and cleared his throat before sitting on the bed next to Tyler. “Pick a page, buddy,” he said huskily.

  Bingo had wormed her way up the bed, and Kelly closed her eyes for a moment against the puppy’s silky fur until the burning in them subsided.

  “Here.” Tyler flipped through the book, found the page he wanted and handed it back to Caleb. “Lie down like Mommy.”

  Caleb stretched out, his eyes meeting hers over their son.

  Then he cleared his throat again and began to read. “‘It was an exciting day for Sebastian the robot...’”

  * * *

  Kelly silently pulled the bedroom door closed on the soft snoring coming from both her son and his father. It had taken five stories, but the two of them were out like lights. As was Bingo, stretched out between them. None of them had even stirred when she’d unzipped her suitcase to pull out a few things or when she’d shut off the light. Considering the long hours that Caleb had put in the night before, she wasn’t surprised that he’d dozed off, too.

  In the bathroom, she cleaned up the mess Tyler had made, took a quick shower and pulled on her own pajamas. Then she finished cleaning up the kitchen, turned the fireplace down until it was a low blue glow and stretched out on Caleb’s couch.

  It was probably better this way. The two guys could share the bed. Caleb wouldn’t be cramped on a too-short couch that fit her height perfectly well.

  It wasn’t perfect, just a one-bedroom apartment.

  But it was better than the farmhouse.

  And for the first time in weeks, when she closed her eyes, she felt peace.

  It lasted for a few hours.

  The sound of Caleb talking quietly woke her. She pushed aside the quilt that she couldn’t remember covering herself with and peered over the back of the couch. She could see him standing shirtless in front of the open refrigerator, holding his phone to his ear.

  Warmth spread through her, and she propped her chin on her arm, just watching.

  “Of course I don’t mind you calling me, Hildy. Make sure she drinks plenty of fluids, and if her temperature goes above one hundred, call me again. U
h-huh. Right. Perfectly all right. G’night, Hildy.” He set his phone aside and pulled the milk jug out of the fridge, taking a sniff and then a swig.

  Kelly smiled against her arm. “Asthma patient?”

  He looked over his shoulder at her. “Sorry. Tried not to wake you.”

  “It’s okay.” The light from the refrigerator was giving his bare torso a very interesting halo. “Tyler still asleep?”

  “Kid slept right through my cell phone ringing.” He replaced the milk and closed the refrigerator door, leaving only the faint light from the fireplace. “I closed his door, so I hope he’s not afraid of the dark.”

  “He’s not.”

  “You should go take the bed.”

  Her heart seemed to skip a beat. She moistened her lips and stood. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah—” His voice broke off when she pulled her pajama top over her head.

  “Are you still sure?” she whispered.

  He slowly rounded the counter and came around the couch, not stopping until her tight nipples brushed against him.

  It was too dark to see the expression in his eyes, but not too dark to feel. He slowly lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. “Are you?”

  She slid her fingertips down his abdomen until she reached his jeans, then pushed the button free and started on the zipper. She could hardly breathe, much less manage speech. “Yes.”

  His hands slid up her sides, setting off an avalanche of shivers. He brushed past her breasts much, much too quickly. Skirted her nipples, much, much too tantalizingly. Instead, his hands roved slowly up her neck to cradle her face. His thumb slowly rubbed across her lower lip. “I gave up stockpiling condoms a long time ago.”

  “I gave up trusting them a long time ago,” she whispered. “I have an implant under my arm now. Easy peasy.” Not that she’d ever needed it.

  “You won’t catch anything from me, either.”

  She pressed her forehead against his chest. “I worked for an ob-gyn,” she said. “I’ve talked to a lot of patients about the importance of having this very discussion, but I’ve never realized what a pain it is. You’re safe. I’m safe. I would have had to actually be with someone since you for it to even be possible I’m not safe.” Impatience was roaring through her bloodstream, making her feel more than a little crazy. “Now can you please put your hands on me?”

  He inhaled sharply when she slid her hands inside his jeans, pushing them down. And his voice was gratifyingly raspy when she circled his length with her fingers. “No one?”

  She shook her head, beyond caring what he would make of that information, and pressed her open mouth against his chest, tasting the saltiness of his skin. She started to work her way lower, then gasped when he pushed down her pajama pants. They fell right down to her feet. His arm went under her rear, lifting her out of them, and then he was turning, flipping her down on her back on the couch and putting his hands on her.

  Everywhere.

  His mouth covered hers, stifling the cry she couldn’t contain when he finally, finally settled between her thighs and filled her.

  His thumbs brushed her cheeks. Then his lips. “Don’t cry.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not.” Because she wasn’t. Not really. There was just too much emotion, too much pleasure tightening inside her, and it only had so many places it could go.

  Then he moved again, whipping the quilt from the couch onto the floor and pulling her down with him. His fingers threaded through hers as he rocked against her. Harder. Deeper. “One of these days we’re going to do this in a bed.” His voice was low. Rough.

  She let out a sound—half sob, half laugh. “It’s never mattered where.” She buried a gasp against his hot neck as he surged inside her. “It’s only mattered that it’s you.”

  And then she arched against him, all that pleasure, all that emotion gathering together into the finest point there ever was. He was at the center of that point, and when it suddenly expanded again, blowing out into splinters of glorious perfection that went on and on and on, he was still the center.

  No matter where she went. What she did.

  She knew he always would be.

  * * *

  Twelve days later, Kelly stood in the master bedroom at the Lazy-B staring at herself in the big mirror on the wall while Lucy and Izzy fussed with her dress.

  The entire house smelled like a Thanksgiving feast. But the food was waiting until after the ceremony. A fact about which Caleb’s grandfather, Squire, had seen fit to complain loudly.

  If Kelly hadn’t seen the quick wink the old man gave her, she would have quailed even more about this whole thing.

  “Your hands are cold as ice,” Lucy said. “You’re not having cold feet, are you? I love my brother, but I’ll admit Caleb’s hardly a great catch.”

  Kelly laughed despite herself, as Lucy had meant her to. Because they all knew Caleb was pretty much the ultimate catch. “I’m not having cold feet,” she replied. “How could I be? I’m marrying the only man I’ve ever wanted to marry.”

  “And about time, too,” Lucy said with feeling. She twitched the skirt of her own dress, which was a pretty russet-colored thing that showed off her lithe dancer’s body to perfection. “I’m going to go see if Reverend Stone has gotten here yet.”

  Kelly nodded and inhaled deeply, trying to quell her nerves.

  It was just hard. Knowing you were marrying a man who didn’t love you the way you loved him.

  Which wasn’t a thing she could admit to any soul around.

  “Dress feeling too tight?” Izzy asked.

  “What?” She realized she was running her hands up and down the lace bodice of her dress. It was white, yet it wasn’t white. It was ivory, yet it wasn’t ivory. Every time she moved a muscle, the flowing, floaty layers of fabric that ended at her knees seemed to shift shades. “No, it’s fine. Perfect, in fact. I’ve never worn anything so beautiful in my life.”

  “That’s the way it should be on a girl’s wedding day. A beautiful dress for a beautiful bride.” Izzy smiled and set her pincushion and thread aside. “And I can’t do a single thing more to improve on it.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you for doing this.”

  Izzy’s black-brown eyes, so startling in comparison to her white-blond hair, were sparkling. “You don’t have to thank me at all. We women who marry into this big old crazy family have to stick together. Now, is there anything else I can do for you before this show gets on the road?”

  Kelly started to shake her head. “Well, yes. Make sure that Tyler hasn’t lost his clip-on tie already.” Her son was downstairs somewhere playing with Lucas and the other kids.

  Izzy grinned. “You bet.” Then she, too, left the room.

  Alone, Kelly stared at her reflection. She ought to have left her hair down, but she’d pulled it back in a braid, which only seemed to magnify how pale her cheeks were.

  She pinched them to put a little color into them and ordered her nerves to settle themselves back down.

  She’d chosen this course knowingly. Just because Caleb’s enthusiasm when they’d driven to his parents’ ranch had been on par with hers—nonexistent—there was no reason to worry. Just because—aside from that first night they’d spent together in Caleb’s apartment—he hadn’t touched her again, there was no particular cause for concern.

  They’d both been busy. Him with his patient load and rounds at the hospital and her with hiring a company to move their stuff from Idaho, working with the real estate agent who was listing the farm and dealing with Tom Hook and the seemingly endless tasks still necessary where her mom’s estate was concerned. She’d been so busy the last few days, in fact, that she hadn’t even had a chance to call the hospital back about the position they wanted her to fill. And of course there was Tyler. The constant pre
sence of an active, inquisitive five-year-old boy who’d decided he liked sleeping in between his parents at night tended to put the brakes on things.

  It would all be better once they got through this day.

  It had to be.

  She exhaled again. Pinched her cheeks again. She should have put on more blush. When someone knocked on the door, she assumed it was Lucy. “Come on in. Is Reverend Stone finally here?”

  But it was Caleb who stepped into his parents’ bedroom.

  When they’d driven to the Lazy-B earlier, he’d been wearing his usual blue jeans and a black-and-gray-checked shirt.

  The sight of him wearing a black suit, blinding white shirt and silver tie struck her nearly dumb. “Wow,” she breathed. Even in her beautiful dress, she felt hopelessly outclassed. “You, uh, you didn’t tell me you were going to wear a suit.”

  “You’re wearing a dress, aren’t you?” He had an envelope in his hand, and he held it up.

  “Is that the license?” She’d told him that morning not to forget it. As if that were likely when he’d been the one to insist on getting it so quickly in the first place.

  “No.” His gaze roved over her face. “It’s a prewedding gift, I guess you’d say.”

  He looked uncomfortable, though, and unease curdled inside her. “What do you mean?”

  He pushed his fingers through his hair, rumpling the perfect way it had been brushed back from his face. “You were right. We shouldn’t be getting married like this.”

  She felt the blood drain out of her head and swayed, knocking into the dresser with her knuckles when she reached out to steady herself. Somewhere inside her head she heard her mother’s caustic laughter. “You decide this...now?”

  His brows pulled together. “It has to be now. Otherwise it’ll be too late.”

  “Too late because you’ll be stuck married to me.” She pressed her palm to her rolling stomach, and her diamond ring made a ray of light dance merrily in the mirror across from her.

  “Because you’ll be married to me and never believe me when I say I love you.”

  She gritted her teeth. He wasn’t making any sense. “I can’t believe I gave up everything, everything I ever worked for. Everything I had to do to make a life for Tyler and me. In all these years I haven’t learned anything. Not. One. Single. Thing. I suppose you think now you don’t have to worry about Tyler. You’re his daddy. The man he adores now. You don’t have to tiptoe your way around a little boy’s loyalty to his mother anymore.”