Their Other Mother

by Janis Reams Hudson

  “Are you finished?” Ace ask quietly.

  “Yeah, I’m finished. If the two of you are so stupid-blind about your own feelings for each other, if you can’t see how right you are together, if you’re going to let a dead woman stand between you, then as far as I’m concerned you deserve whatever happens to you.” Resettling his hat on his head, Jack turned and strode back through the graves to the pickup.

  Ace and Belinda stood there, unable to look at each other, unable to move.

  They heard the pickup door slam, the engine turn over. Tires crunching gravel.

  Tires? “Dammit.” Ace spun and raced for the gate. “Jack!”

  Jack gave him a short wave and drove off.

  “That lousy son of a bitch.”

  Belinda caught up with Ace and stared dumbfounded at the dust stirred up by Jack’s departure. “He left us here?”

  Ace propped his hands low on his hips and ground his teeth. “Looks that way.”

  “That lousy son of a—” Belinda echoed.

  “He’s going to die,” Ace muttered. “I’m going to string him up on the cottonwood in the front yard, and I’m not wasting new rope to do it.”

  After several minutes Ace cursed again. “Come on. We might as well start walking. It’s three miles back to the house.”

  And so they walked. After about five minutes they reached the point where the cemetery road met the ranch road that would take them back to the house.

  “You wanna talk about it?” Ace finally asked.

  “No.”

  Ace reached for her hand.

  She pulled back. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t touch? Don’t talk? What the hell’s going on, Belinda?”

  “That’s right, gripe at me,” she said irritably. “Jack’s full of it. You know Cathy wasn’t like that.”

  “I’d say he both exaggerated and oversimplified, yeah.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine? What does that mean?”

  “Nothing I don’t feel like talking just now.”

  “Well, excuse the hell out of me. Last night you turned me every way but loose, and today you don’t want to look at me, don’t want me to touch you, don’t want to talk. That’s just sh—”

  “Please. At least be more original.”

  “Slim—”

  “I hate it when you call me that.”

  His brows rose in surprise. “Why?”

  “We both know the only reason you do it is to point out that I don’t have Cathy’s figure. I have to assume that since last night the thought has probably crossed your mind about a hundred times what a poor substitute I am for her. But don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’re the only man who’s ever thought that.”

  Ace grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to an abrupt halt. “You wanna run that by me again?”

  She jerked from his hold and started walking again. “Not particularly.”

  “Well that’s just too damn bad.” He grabbed her again, stopped her again. “Is that why you wouldn’t look me in the eye this morning?” he demanded, incredulous. “Because you think I’m using you as some sort of substitute?”

  “You wouldn’t be the first,” she told him. “I’m not sure what that makes me, that I keep hooking up with Cathy’s castoffs. Not that she cast you off on purpose, but the effect’s the same. She left you, so here I come to take her place. I guess a psychiatrist would say I’m trying to live Cathy’s life, trying to become her.” She frowned, thoughtful. “There could be some truth to that, I suppose. I’ve always been envious.”

  “What,” Ace managed through clenched teeth, “are you talking about?”

  “What do you think I’m talking about? Hell, Ace, it’s as plain as the nose on your face. Or my face, I should say. Cathy was beautiful, with her fair skin and pretty blond hair, that curvy figure, the sweet personality. People fawned over her our entire lives. Who wouldn’t be envious?”

  “Slim, if I didn’t believe it was wrong for a man to hit a woman, I’d pop you right on that stubborn chin of yours. I have never heard anything so asinine in my whole damn life.”

  “I didn’t say I was smart about it. I know it’s stupid.” She shrugged and looked away. “I guess I didn’t realize just how pathetic I was until this morning, when I thought about...last night.”

  “Great.” He threw his hands in the air. “Yesterday you didn’t want to get involved with me because I was Cathy’s husband. Now you’re saying the only reason you did get involved with me is because I was Cathy’s husband? That if I’d never been married to Cathy you wouldn’t have wanted me? And who the hell said I was looking for a substitute for Cathy in the first place? Because I’ll tell you straight out, Slim, I’m not.”

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  “No, you didn’t. You just said you hated it. Dammit, Belinda, I’ve been calling you that for years, and since you’re too thickheaded and too insecure to figure it out for yourself, I mean it as a compliment.”

  “Get off it, Ace. If you’ll pardon the pun, I don’t stack up to Cathy. You know it, I know it.”

  “You got that right, sister. Cathy never argued with me like you do. Except for that last time, about having another baby, she always agreed with me on everything, always let me make all the decisions, let me have my way.”

  Belinda frowned. “Sounds boring as hell, if you ask me.”

  “It wasn’t boring. It was...peaceful.”

  Belinda snorted in disbelief. “If you say so.”

  “And she never felt the need to always get in the last word, unlike someone else I could name. And I liked that peacefulness.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing with me?” she cried.

  As if a switch had been thrown, Ace’s anger drained away. A look of wonder, of revelation, came across his face. His voice softened, his touch gentled. “Coming alive again.”

  “Oh my—” Belinda’s voice cracked, her knees weakened.

  “Thanks to you,” he added.

  She didn’t know if she reached for him, or he reached for her, but suddenly she was in his arms and was kissing him as if it might be their last moment on earth.

  “Ace,” she breathed between kisses.

  “You’re not blond,” he said against her lips, “or curvy or delicate.” He devoured her mouth with his. “You’re vivid and striking.” He kissed her again. “Slender and firm and sexy as hell.” Again, he kissed her, hard, fast, then pushed her away and looked into her stormy gray eyes. “And dammit, it’s not a contest. And we did not make love with each other last night—three times—because of anything to do with Cathy. We made love last night in spite of Cathy.”

  “Ace—”

  “Say it.”

  Belinda closed her eyes. A low moan escaped her throat.

  Ace squeezed her shoulders and gave her a small shake. “Say it.”

  She opened her eyes and met his gaze. With a deep breath, she said, “In spite of.”

  Ace pulled her close again and squeezed his eyes shut. “We have nothing to feel guilty about, either of us. We’re not going to feel guilty. Okay?”

  Belinda wrapped her arms around him and turned her face into his neck. “Okay.”

  Tension drained out of Ace. “Okay. Then there’s just one other thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We never said good-morning.”

  Belinda raised her head and looked at him.

  His look was somber, but determined, as if he faced a difficult task that he had vowed to accomplish. Slowly he lowered his head until their lips touched. “Good morning, Belinda.”

  Nerves twisted and emotions bubbled. Belinda knew that it was her own insecurities that had kept her from turning to him this morning when he’d walked into the kitchen. Now she was getting a second chance to start the day right. Vowing not to mess it up, she leaned into the kiss. “Good morning, Ace.”

  Ace welcomed her by taking the kiss deeper. When he pulled away, he gave her a slight
smile. “For the record, I like the way you argue.”

  Belinda raised one eyebrow. “Yeah, it’s real peaceful.”

  “I’ve had peace. It was great. I loved your sister. Part of me still does, you have to know that. She lives in our sons. That’s why you love them so much, because you love her. As long as we remember her, she’s still part of us.”

  Belinda closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. He could have talked all day without reminding her that Cathy was still a part of their lives, would always be a part of each of them. It didn’t help her reconcile making love with Cathy’s husband.

  “But, Slim,” Ace said, “she’s gone. She’s part of us, but she’s not here, and she wouldn’t want us to turn away from each other and be alone because of our memories of her.”

  One corner of Belinda’s mouth curved up. “Are you sure about that?”

  For a moment Ace looked startled, then he shrugged and shook his head. “No, I’m not. But she’s gone. We’re not hurting her by being together. We’re not hurting anyone.”

  “Except maybe ourselves.”

  One corner of his mouth curved, to match hers, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “At least you didn’t say each other.”

  “No, but I thought it.”

  He shook his head again. “Damn, Slim, why do you look for trouble? Can’t we just take it as it comes and see what happens? We can’t go back to the way things were between us, before last night.”

  “We could pretend it never happened.”

  “In a pig’s eye.”

  “Well, that’s certainly plain enough.”

  “I hope so. I’m not about to go back to pretending I don’t want you, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you pretend you don’t care.”

  Belinda hugged herself and looked off into the distance. After last night, she didn’t think she had the ability to act as if she didn’t care. Her defenses were too weak. Her willpower had shattered.

  “There’s no going back, Belinda,” he said quietly.

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. What she saw there was sheer determination, strong enough to make her shiver in involuntary anticipation of whatever might come next between them. “No, I suppose not.”

  He let out a hoot of sarcastic laughter. “I guess I’ll never have to worry about my ego getting out of hand with you around.”

  “I didn’t become a different person just because I slept with you.”

  “I didn’t think you had. I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  “Besides, your ego doesn’t need any help from me.”

  This tune, his brief smile held humor. “Probably not.” Then he sobered. He stroked one finger along her cheek. “I don’t want you to change. I like the way you speak your mind, the way you stand toe-to-toe with me and argue.”

  Belinda smiled slowly. “Watch out, you might get more of it than you want.”

  Ace laughed. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders and starting them again toward home, he said, “I’ll chance it.”

  There was more that Ace wanted to say, but he figured they had both been as honest as they could for now. He needed time to come to grips with all that they’d said to each other.

  He’d meant what he’d said, every word of it. But there was more inside him for this woman, he acknowledged. More than he had yet revealed even to himself. He needed to think about it, turn it over in his mind a few times. Study on it.

  And, he thought grimly. he had to strangle Jack.

  With Ace’s arm still around Belinda, they walked at a good clip as the sun rose higher and the air warmed. Ace figured it took them just over forty minutes to get back to the house, once they started up the road.

  “What do you have planned for the day?” he asked as they neared the ranch headquarters.

  Belinda ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “Laundry.”

  Ace opened his mouth, saw the trap waiting to spring if he dared mention his pink shorts and clamped his lips shut. He hated doing laundry. If Belinda thought he was complaining about the way she did it, it would be just like her to leave his clothes out of the wash and let him fend for himself. All in all, he decided, there really wasn’t anything wrong with pink underwear.

  “What?” she asked. “No comment?”

  “Not a word,” he said with his best innocent look.

  “Smart man.”

  “I try.”

  Then they looked at each other and smiled. Until Ace spotted Jack’s pickup beside the barn. He stopped. “There’s a little something I’ve got to take care of,” he told Belinda.

  She heard Jack’s voice from inside the barn and nodded. “I’ll leave him to you. I have my own ways of getting even.”

  The look on her face had Ace almost feeling sorry for Jack. Almost.

  “See you later,” she said as she turned away toward the house.

  “Yeah.” He caught her hand and pulled her into his arms. “But give me a little something to tide me over.”

  “Here? With everybody watching?”

  “Here.” He nudged his lips against hers. “And nobody’s watching.” He kissed her slowly, deeply, and she kissed him back, her arms twining around his neck.

  And he was wrong. Everybody was watching. Including the boys, who were at the corral with Trey. It was the whoops and catcalls from the men that broke Ace and Belinda apart.

  Belinda blushed, but only for a moment. The sight of money changing hands doused whatever embarrassment she might have felt.

  Ace released her and raised his hands in the air. “Just remember,” he said, fighting laughter. “I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t know they were all spying on us like a bunch of worthless yahoos.” His voice rose on those last few words loud enough to carry. “I’m just as much a victim as you,” he told Belinda.

  “Yeah, right. See you later, buckaroo.” With that, she turned and walked toward the corral to collect the boys and head for the house. She felt the eyes of every man on the ranch follow her every step of the way. Most particularly, she felt Ace’s eyes.

  He was right, she decided. There was no going back, for either of them. What she had to determine now was, How far forward did she want to go?

  She also had to determine her method of getting even for the catcalls and that disgusting exchange of money. Bet on her—or against her—would they?

  “Boys,” she asked, ruffling Jason’s black hair. “What do you want for lunch today?”

  Sabotaging lunch would be too easy, Belinda decided. The men would be expecting that, and if there was anything Belinda despised, it was predictability. In anything but software. Software should be predictable. Revenge should not.

  When the men came in for lunch, she schooled her face into her most innocent expression. It was all she could do to keep from laughing at the wary looks on their faces. They eyed the meat loaf as if they expected it to explode.

  Hmm. Now there was an idea... She would file it away for future use.

  Right now she was too busy enjoying their discomfort. It felt good to dwell on that rather than on what may or may not happen between her and Ace.

  Lord, she was out of her mmd to get involved with him, but short of packing up and heading home, she didn’t see any way around it. It had already happened. She was involved with him. Up to her eyeballs, and then some.

  It wasn’t smart, and being smart was one of the few things Belinda felt she had going for her.

  First, she would get through lunch. Then the mind-numbing chore of laundry.

  Throughout lunch she deliberately kept her gaze from Ace’s face. But she couldn’t help but glance in his direction every few seconds. His mere presence drew her, pulled at her. And aroused her curiosity when she noticed that he kept flexing the knuckles of his right hand. Equally curious was the way Jack kept touching his jaw and wiggling it as if to make sure it still worked.

  It didn’t take a genius to realize that Ace must have punched Jack for hauling them out to the cemetery and leaving them the
re.

  My hero.

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or knock their heads together for fighting like two unruly little boys.

  About an hour after lunch the boys were out in the front yard practicing their roping—the dog was in hiding beneath the porch—when a cloud of dust boiled down the road from the highway toward the house, announcing a visitor.

  Having just spilled liquid laundry detergent on her hands, Belinda stood at the kitchen sink trying to rinse the slimy stuff off and watched as a gray Oldsmobile pulled up near the back door.

  Terrific. Company at the back door, and here she stood, water and soap dampening her clothes, and dishes from the noon meal still all over the counter.

  Well, Belinda admitted, she’d never claimed to be a homemaker. But it rankled to know that Cathy would never have been caught like this.

  A woman got out of the sedan. She was fortyish, average height, with short, auburn hair. She wore a calf-length denim skirt, a pale pink, short-sleeved designer T-shirt and white sandais.

  Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Belinda stepped out the back door and greeted her. “Afternoon.”

  “Hi.” The woman took in Belinda’s bedraggled appearance in a swift glance. Her smile was mischievous and contagious. “I guess I caught you at a bad time.”

  Belinda’s lips twitched. She plowed her fingers through her hair. “Not particularly. Around here I nearly always look like this.”

  “I’m Donna Harris. I’m here about the ad in the paper for housekeeper. I called this morning and spoke with a man named Trey. He said I should ask for Belinda.”

  A week ago Belinda would have leaped on this woman. A real, live applicant! A day ago she would have gushed and prayed that this was the right woman for the job. But now, after last night, plus the events of the morning, all she could do was stand there and stare, feeling her mouth go dry, as a cold, dark emptiness opened up inside her.