Caty’s story made Marti feel many different things, some of them she couldn’t explain. Her mind threw her a picture of Jesse and Desiree in a hot clinch. Then she saw him befriending her, standing by her. He might have been hurt himself if her husband had caught him talking to Desiree. Now they had a special bond. She pushed the pictures from her mind. Not bothered.
Just like you weren’t bothered seeing them together.
Yeah, exactly.
Jesse fixed himself some spaghetti, knowing Marti wouldn’t be home until well after nine o’clock. He thought he’d enjoy having the evening to himself, but long before nine, he was already bored and restless. He wandered down by the river, watching the moonlight ripple along the currents. His thoughts were far from the sound of the frogs singing in different pitches, far from the shadows of the trees as they swayed in the cool evening breeze.
He shook his head, remembering Marti stretching up to push the box of old clothes into the cavernous hole of the Goodwill box, eager to get rid of them. He had offered to pitch the box in, but she wanted to do it herself. So he’d wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up. She had waved goodbye to the bags and boxes, giggling, but he’d been caught up in how small she felt in his arms. Inside that delicate body, his baby was growing, a reality that had overwhelmed him. He’d set her down slowly so he could savor the feelings that coursed through him.
Thinking back on it, he realized her laugh was different. So was her smile. Before, she only smiled tentatively, as if she was breaking some rule and someone might catch her. She put her hand in front of her mouth to hide it. The only time he’d really seen her smile was when she told him she was pregnant. He certainly hadn’t been smiling then.
Now she was smiling again, a new woman inside. When he’d asked her why she was so happy at giving the clothes away, she’d said she felt in control again. His heart chugged like a train racing down the tracks, then and now. For the first time, his wife made him feel something.
And she was leaving.
Headlights slashed across the oak trunks, and Bumpus raced toward the house barking. Jesse headed toward the commotion of Caty’s voice greeting the dog and the crinkling of bags.
At first, he didn’t see Marti, only Caty and a blonde. Bumpus recognized Marti before he did. Jesse stared at the woman who had left a straight-haired brunette several hours earlier.
Caty watched the two stare at each other for a moment, then asked, “Well, what do you think, big brother?”
He walked closer, touching her hair to make sure it wasn’t a wig. “You dyed your hair?”
Marti smiled. “Yep. This is sort of how my hair was before. Do you like it?”
“Well, ‘like’ wouldn’t be the word for it. Aw, I don’t know. I liked it well enough before. Why’d you change it?”
Marti tossed her hair and stalked toward the house. Caty gave him a sheepish grin.
He asked, “Well, what do you think about it? You were a party to the deed.”
Caty raised her arms. “Not me, no sirree. You think I could’ve told her otherwise? Nope. I didn’t like it at first, but I’m getting used to it. However, I don’t have to live with her, so you’d better march your butt in there and tell her you like it.”
Jesse ran his fingers through his hair. “I never tell a woman something I don’t mean. That policy has kept me out of trouble more times than it’s gotten me into it.”
Caty brushed a lock of hair from his face and said with a sigh, “You sure do have a lot to learn about women.”
CHAPTER 7
After he’d seen Caty off, Jesse wandered back inside and peered into Marti’s room. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser.
“Hey,” he said as a greeting, leaning against the doorframe. “I… I really like....” He glanced at the window and stepped inside to get a closer look. “I like what you’ve done with the sheets.” Now wasn’t the time to change his honesty policy.
Her dark expression lifted when she saw his genuine appraisal. “Do you? I had to do something with that window. It was giving me the creeps.”
He looked behind the curtains to see how she’d made the top angular and puffy. She’d cut the curtains at angles, making them drape in the middle.
“This looks like something out of a catalog from those custom sections.”
She beamed. “It’s amazing what you can do with a couple of wire hangers and a sewing kit. I poked so many holes in my fingers, I thought I’d leak when I drank something.”
He couldn’t help smiling at her. Her pride shone, and she was as adorable as a puppy the way she was looking for the pinpricks in her fingertips. White, pink, and blue bags of every size covered with the floor. Marti dropped back on the bed, stifling a yawn. He looked at her stomach, now rounded a tad. The reality of the baby hadn’t hit until he’d heard its heartbeat. It was a thundering realization that his baby, a real human being, lived inside her. He sat down on the bed next to her, imagining his hand splayed out over her midsection, his thumb nestled in the hollow between her breasts.
“You know,” she said dreamily. “I had some ideas about the curtains in the living room. Something masculine, but new and different. Would you let me redecorate a little?”
Only when she looked at him did he snap out of his trance. “Sure, do anything you like.”
“What about your room? It’s kind of dull in there. Can I...” She hesitated when he leaned closer. “Can I do something in there, too? It’s actually exciting, getting ideas about redecorating this place. Oh!” She sat up and started rifling through her bags. “I bought something for you.”
When she pulled out the swirly, multi-colored shirt and held it up, he could only stare at it.
“You bought that? For me?” He forced a smile.
Her grin soured. “You don’t like this either. Caty said it wasn’t your style, but I knew it would look great on you. Try it on.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Give me a moment to absorb it.” Jesse stripped off his shirt and put on the new one. Her eyes were on him the whole time as he tossed his shirt on the floor and donned the new one. He leaned over and looked in the mirror. “I could get used to it.” He met her gaze in the mirror. “And your hair, too. You’re throwing at lot of new stuff at me at once. I’m too laid back to accept changes easily, and one of those changes is a whopper.”
“You’ve been great about that. If you can handle that one, the small ones should be easy.” She bit her bottom lip, letting her gaze travel over the shirt. “It looks absolutely excellent on you.”
He leaned close and tucked a blond curl behind her ear. “Thanks.” He gestured to the bags. “I can’t believe you thought about me while you were doing all the girly shopping stuff.”
“It’s hard not to think about you.” She looked away. “I mean, being with your sister and all, talking about the baby.”
“You talked about the baby?” Was she accepting her pregnant body?
“The doctor’s appointment and the heartbeat.”
“Marti, can I ask you for something?”
Several expressions crossed her face, none he could identify. “Sure.”
“I want to touch the baby. Through your stomach, I mean.”
She met his gaze and whatever she saw there had her swallowing loudly. She nodded.
He sat down beside her and placed his hand on the outside of her shirt. After a moment, she peeled back her shirt to expose her bare stomach. He pressed his hand against the skin, watching her reaction. Her face flushed pink. Not wanting to embarrass her, he pulled his hand away.
“Sometimes, when Abbie was pregnant with Turk and Clint, I felt the baby move. It was something special, to feel that little flutter. I want to feel my boy’s movements, knowing I made him.”
“This baby means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “When I first heard I was going to be a father, I couldn’t accept it. Once I made a decision to live
up to my responsibility, I realized what it all meant. Heck, I wasn’t sure what would happen between Marti and me once the baby was born, but I was going to give the family thing a try.” He laughed. “I’d do anything for this kid, and he’s not even born yet.”
“You’re going to spoil him rotten.”
Jesse’s smile faded. “I’m going to have to. I’m all he’s got.”
Marti tightened her lips. “Jesse, you promised you wouldn’t put the guilt trip on me.”
He stood. “I already told you how I feel about emotional attachments to women interfering with my racing. And you’ve told me you want to go back to California. I have no intention of trying to get you to stay after you’ve had the baby. We’re going to get along just fine on that score.”
A shadow of disappointment flitted over her face, though he hoped it was only his imagination. That look hardened.
“Absolutely. I don’t belong here with you, in this town, and especially with a baby.”
He agreed with the words, but for some reason they sounded hollow to him.
The man stood outside Marti’s window. He couldn’t see inside since she’d hung up that silly curtain, but he could see silhouettes. Bits and pieces of their conversation drifted through the fabric and glass. She and Jesse weren’t sharing a bedroom anymore. Interesting.
The wind scattered dead oak leaves across the cool earth, but he stood perfectly still. As long as that damn dog didn’t start barking again, he was safe.
Was he safe from the burning truth? From what he’d done, or almost done, to Marti? She had been dead when he’d left her at the side of the road, but she came back. How? At first he thought maybe she didn’t remember anything about his attacking her. Now he wasn’t so sure. He’d heard that she and Jesse had stormed into the sheriff’s office and demanded to see the photos. What exactly had they seen? What could they tell from them? He’d seen Jesse go into two jewelry stores the other day but couldn’t subtly extract from the salespeople what he’d been looking for.
She was remembering, he was sure of it. Damaged memories could come back, and what then? Think, man, think. Even if she did remember, it would be her word against his. Her damaged memories. Didn’t matter, though. Once she pointed the finger, everyone would be looking at him, wondering. That was the best case scenario. Worst case: going to prison. He clenched his fists. No, he couldn’t do that. He needed to shut her up, permanently this time. Sometime soon she would be alone.
The following week, Caty and Marti were sweeping up after the last customer finally lifted himself off the seat and sauntered out. Caty was right behind him, turning the deadbolt on the door.
Marti blew out a loud breath. “Damn, people are slow here in the South. I thought that lazy pace was exaggerated on television.”
Caty laughed. “Well, we don’t run around like a bunch of chickens in the butcher yard like you Californians probably do, that’s for sure. How was your first day pulling your share of the tables?”
Marti put her hands over her breasts and grimaced. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I didn’t feel like the girls were going to explode with every step. Some guy jostled me, and I about screamed.”
“Yeah, I know at least a bit of what you mean. Mine get tender when my aunt flow starts planning her visit.”
“You have an aunt who makes your boobs sore?”
Caty chuckled. “My period.”
“Oh, gotcha. Well, this is nothing like that kind of pain, let me tell you. They even hurt when I breathe.” Marti leaned on the broom handle. “Do you think Marti got pregnant on purpose to trap Jesse?”
“Yes,” Katie answered without hesitation. “I was mad at her, but if you knew Marti, it was hard to stay mad at her. She seemed so pitiful. Needy. And we could never prove it anyway.”
“Sometimes I think about her, about what she was like. I took her life, and yet I know hardly anything about her.”
Caty scooted an army of ketchup bottles toward her as she sat down. “I didn’t either. She came into town, rented a room, and got a job here. I didn’t think she was hiding from anyone, but it did seem like she was running away. Whenever I asked about her family, she changed the subject. The only thing she ever said was that they didn’t get along and never would. It’s hard for me to imagine being separated from my family like that.”
Marti stared off for a moment, thinking of her own father whom she’d never met, of her mother. “Sometimes it’s better to be separated from them. Believe me.”
On the way home, Marti drove to the grocery store to get a ready-cooked chicken for dinner. It was as she suspected: Marti had trapped Jesse into a marriage he wasn’t ready for. Maybe she’d known how family-oriented and responsible he was. Still, it wasn’t fair. She would return to California with stretch marks and extra weight, and Jesse would be a single dad.
Marti already knew that some of that extra weight she would carry back to California would be guilt. It inched up on her every time she thought about leaving. Which was ridiculous, since Jesse didn’t want her to stay anyway.
She glanced down at her gas gauge, now very conscious of running out. It had crept down to a quarter of a tank. Did she dare take a chance that the gauge was accurate? One of the things she had promised Jesse was that she wouldn’t stop to get gas by herself. She certainly didn’t want to relive Marti’s terror. But the first gas station on the edge of town was right up ahead, and it was the middle of the afternoon. What harm could come of it? She pulled in and got out to pump. The modern pumps looked out of place in front of the 1940’s-style wooden building.
“Marti, you should have waited another minute. I could’ve done that for you.”
She whirled around to find Paul dressed in green overalls, leaning against the farthest pump. With a casual stride, he walked over and propped himself up against her car.
“I thought you sold insurance,” she blurted out, unnerved.
“I do, but business is slow, so I’m earning some extra cash to put neon lighting underneath my truck. What do you think? Blue?”
There was something beneath the green of his eyes that made her think he didn’t much care about her opinion.
“Blue’s cool.” She watched the numbers on the gas pump, waiting to hit the twenty-dollar mark so she could leave.
He reached out and touched her hair with blackened fingers. “I like this. Sexy, different. Taking a walk on the wild side?”
“No, just wanted a change.” She moved away and found herself tucking her hair behind her right ear. Irritated at herself and Jesse for a second, she yanked it back out again.
“Your husband thinks I was the one who attacked you. You know that’s not true.”
She avoided his penetrating gaze. “I don’t know who did it.”
He touched her arm, and she flinched. “It wasn’t me. Don’t you see Jesse’s trying to make you distrust me? Hate me? He knows I liked you before he got you pregnant, and he doesn’t want anything to flare up between us.”
She moved away as far as she could. “I didn’t know there was anything to flare up.”
“There wasn’t. Yet.” His fingers loosened their grip on her arm, and he leaned against her car. His smile was pure, unadulterated charm. “Marti, I know that inside is a wild woman clawing to get out. Am I right?”
Her eyes widened. Could he know? “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you don’t belong in a pregnant body waiting on Jesse and pumping out babies.” He lifted his hand to graze her cheek. “We could have a lot of fun together. You can have babies when you’re older and more settled.”
She turned off the pump and closed the gas door. “Are you suggesting I have an abortion so I can romp with you?”
He cocked his head at her directness. “I’d make it worth it.”
“No, you couldn’t.”
She started to get in the car, planning to toss out the money and screech away.
His voice stopped her. “You’re carrying a criminal’s child.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Jesse is a criminal. You’re living with a car thief.”
“You’re lying. Jesse wouldn’t steal a car.”
Paul crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. “Oh, but he did. And he was convicted, too. Think about that as you lie next to him at night.” Then his smile curved up wickedly. “But you’re not sharing a bed with him, are you?”
“How would you know something like that?” She felt confused and violated.
“Someone saw you bed shopping a few Sundays ago. Something like that can mean only one thing—trouble at home.”
“It’s for the baby.” She closed the door and handed him a twenty.
He didn’t take it. “Babies don’t sleep in regular beds.”
Screeching tires drew her attention away from Paul’s leer to a face of barely controlled anger: Jesse. His truck pulled to a stop inches away from Paul and her car. He jumped out and stalked toward Paul. Before he said anything to him, Jesse turned to her. “Go home. Now.”
“Jesse, I—”
“Now.” The low timbre might as well have been as loud as thunder, the power it contained.
She tossed the twenty out and slammed the car into gear. Damn men. All she wanted was gas. In the rearview mirror, Jesse made pointed gestures while Paul stood back, unaffected. Arrogant even. Still, he’d imparted some unpleasant news, if it was true. A convicted car thief? Couldn’t be.
Jesse arrived home five minutes after she did. She steeled herself for his anger. Who was he, anyway, to tell her what to do?
Anger reddened his face. “Damn it, Marti, what did I tell you about getting gas alone?”
“I didn’t want to run out.”
“You shouldn’t let it get that low.”
“I can’t hide away because someone tried to attack me.”
“So you position yourself alone with the man who probably tried to rape you and killed Marti? You’re a damn fool.”
Stranger in the Mirror [Shades of Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) Page 10