That black feeling gnawed at her stomach, the same way it had the day she’d seen Desiree with Jesse at this same spot. Abbie wasn’t sexy like Desiree, but a look of sensibility that came from accomplishment and confidence accented her bland beauty.
“Abbie’s going to stay with Ma until she decides what she’s going to do. I invited her to stay for dinner; hope that’s all right with you.”
Before Marti could even shrug a vague confirmation, Abbie said, “Hey, I can make my famous Turk casserole. I used to make it all the time when I was pregnant with my first, so I named it after him.”
“Uh, I’ve already got something planned for dinner,” Marti blurted out before she even realized it. Jesse gave her a surprised look, and she smiled. “I thought about it today at work.”
“Okay. What are you going to make?”
She went blank, making it up as she went. “Spaghetti. I have an Italian recipe for the sauce. You’ll like it, I think.”
“Sounds fine to me,” Jesse said.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Abbie said with a gracious smile. “The boys love spaghetti.” They nodded without a great deal of enthusiasm.
Then Marti realized she’d have to go to the grocery store to get the ingredients she remembered Jamie putting into the sauce. That meant leaving them alone for a while longer. But what could happen with the boys there? And why should she worry about it anyway?
Dinner was a minimal success, even though the sauce hadn’t simmered long enough and the noodles were sticky. Nobody mentioned it, and the boys were too busy sucking each long piece into their mouths to notice. They reminded her how little she related to children. Every time she said something to them, her voice sounded phony. Her inner voice rated every sentence: too cutesy, too adult. Her inner voice was becoming a real pain. She’d never heard it before her life-after-death experience.
When Marti started carting the dishes into the kitchen, Jesse started helping.
Abbie stood, too. “Let me do that. I’m sure the boys would love to spend some time with you.”
“Yeah!” cried Turk. “Will you twirl us around again like a helicopter? Please, please?”
Marti noticed how easily he left her to Abbie’s company and went outside with a squealing boy under each arm.
Abbie had a soft smile on her face as she watched him go outside. “He’s good with kids, isn’t he?”
“I think he’s good with everybody.”
“He sure is. He would have made a good preacher.”
Marti’s eyes widened. “Jesse, a preacher?” She couldn’t help but remember him in his briefs, kissing her in the river. It made her feel better that Abbie didn’t know him quite so well.
“Sure. He has a warmth that reaches out and touches people. They’re drawn to him.” She turned on the faucet and started rinsing dishes. “How old are you, Marti?”
“Twenty… three.” Twenty-seven, she’d almost said.
“So young. You’re going to have your first about the same age I had Turk. You’re not really a blonde, are you?”
Marti stiffened, then wondered if her roots needed to be done already. “I’m a brunette. Is it obvious?”
“No, but your coloring is more suited for dark hair.” She leaned back against the counter with her arms crossed loosely in front of her. “Jesse says you’re leaving after the baby’s born.”
“Yes,” she said firmly, more for her own benefit than Abbie’s. “I’m going to California.”
“Wow, that’s far away.”
“It’s where I’m from.”
“You’re about five months along, aren’t you?”
Marti glanced down at her belly. “Nineteen weeks last Wednesday.”
“Have you felt the baby move yet?”
“The doctor says any day now.”
Abbie put her hand to her heart. “That’s the most exciting moment, when you know there’s a little human inside you. You’re still so tiny. I was huge by five months, and I just kept getting bigger.”
Marti cringed. “I already feel like a duck, and I’m not even waddling yet.”
“Does Jesse touch your stomach a lot?”
“Sometimes.”
“He used to put his hand on my stomach all the time when I was pregnant.”
Abbie’s smile was free from an obvious intent to make Marti jealous. Still, her fingers tightened on the plate she put in the dishwasher.
A peal of laughter drew their attention to the large window facing out back. Jesse jogged slowly by with Clint on his shoulders, making horse sounds and pretending to buck. Marti found herself smiling wistfully.
“He’s going to make a great father.” Abbie pulled her gaze, seemingly in reluctance, from the scene. “Are you worried about Jesse having to take care of a baby by himself?”
“A little. Not worried that he’s incapable of doing it, just that it’ll be so overwhelming.”
“Then what I’m going to tell you should allay that concern and maybe take away any guilt you might be feeling: I proposed to your husband.”
Marti stood there with a dumbfounded expression on her face. She ignored the empty space her heart had occupied before dropping down to her toes. After closing her mouth, she asked, “Proposed what?”
Abbie laughed. “Marriage, of course. It makes sense, don’t you think? You’re leaving. He’s going to be alone with a baby. I’m alone with two boys who adore him more than they do their own father. It’s a perfect solution, a marriage of convenience.”
Marriage of convenience? The relief that Abbie obviously expected didn’t appear on Marti’s face. Marti closed the dishwasher door with a little more zest than necessary.
“Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I just thought that since you were leaving anyway, you might feel better knowing.”
Marti swallowed hard, trying to put on a casual mask. “I—I do, really. I just wasn’t expecting… you proposed to him?” And then what she really wanted to know: “What was his answer?”
“He said he had to think about it, that he still had a couple of things on his agenda before he could consider my proposal.”
Marti’s eyes widened. A couple of things on his agenda? What agenda? “I see.”
“Being a reasonable and, I’m sure, compassionate woman, I know you’ll see it’s the best thing for that baby and for Jesse.”
“Yes, the best thing,” Marti said softly as the boys raced through the front door, followed by a breathless Jesse. He collapsed on the couch, and the boys snuggled on each side of him. “The best thing,” she repeated, knowing she should see it that way. After all, it was exactly what he’d just proposed to her.
Jesse never mentioned Abbie’s proposal, and Marti didn’t tell him that she knew about it. In the five days since her surprise visit, Abbie had only been over twice, and that was to drop off the boys. As Marti and Jesse sat across the table from each other after dinner, she couldn’t keep away the picture of Jesse and Abbie and the family eating there. In her picture, Jesse was laughing with the boys, not somber and thoughtful as he was now.
The rain outside made a pitter-patter sound on the roof, and the sky outside was a pasty gray. She crossed her arms in front of her, resting them on her belly. Why couldn’t she get the thought of Jesse and Abbie out of her mind? In the cozy picture her mind tauntingly created, he leaned over and kissed her. Marti wrinkled her nose at that.
“What’s wrong?” Jesse asked, pulling her from her self-torture.
“Why didn’t you tell me my hair looked terrible?”
He raised his eyebrows. “It doesn’t look terrible. I thought you liked it.”
“I do. But my coloring’s wrong.” It was. She had studied her reflection and realized Abbie was right. Damn her, the woman was just too sensible.
He shrugged. “I never liked it all that much to begin with, but who am I to say anything? I’m just your husband.”
His words bit into her heart. A lock of hair hung down over his forehead, making
him look like the boys he loved so much. She caught herself remembering how soft his hair was as it had brushed her hands while they danced. To distract herself, she picked up her fork and poked at the elbow noodles on her plate.
“You’ve been awfully quiet lately,” he said. “It doesn’t bother you, the boys being around, does it?”
She noticed he hadn’t mentioned Abbie being around. “No, they don’t—” Her eyes widened and the fork dropped from her hand.
He was out of his seat and at her side in seconds. “What’s wrong?”
A chill washed over her when she realized what happened. “I felt the baby kick,” she whispered, a smile stretching her mouth. “There it goes again.” She took his hand and placed it under her loose shirt at the spot where the baby had last kicked. While they waited the skin beneath his palm grew warm and moist. Crouched beside her, his expectant expression never wavered. Finally the baby kicked again.
Awe lit his face, making him look breathtakingly gorgeous. “My son did that.”
“There’s a baby in there,” she said softly, pulling up her shirt . Her belly looked naked and vulnerable compared to his strong, capable hand. “Abbie was right. She said it would feel more real when the baby started moving.”
His expression didn’t change, even when he shifted his gaze to her.
Her throat tightened, and she pushed out the words, “I hope it’s a boy, Jesse.”
“Well, that’s up to the Big Guy upstairs. I wouldn’t mind a girl, though.”
“Do you think you’ll be all right, raising the baby alone?”
He gave her an odd look, and she tried to make her expression light. He reached up and touched her cheek, then tucked her hair behind her ear. She didn’t untuck it.
“Don’t worry about us, doll. We’ll be okay. Course, you can always stick around and find out for yourself.”
She shook her head. “It seems you have a better offer.”
It took him a second to realize what she meant. “Abbie told you?”
Marti nodded. “She figured I would feel better knowing, so I wouldn’t worry.”
He got to his feet. “I’m glad she offered.”
Her chest tightened. “You are?”
“Yeah, it answered a question I’d had on my mind.”
“What question?”
Just as he seemed like he was going to answer, he shook his head. “It’s not important.”
“Are you going to marry her, Jesse?”
He leaned against the wall. “Would it make you feel better if you knew I had a wife when our divorce is final?”
“No, I… yes.” She was screaming inside. It was ridiculous, and yes, selfish of her to not want him to marry Abbie. But how could she explain that to him? I don’t want you to marry her, because… She didn’t even know why.
Jesse’s eyes hardened. “Maybe I will, Marti. Maybe I will.”
Time passed faster than Marti cared to think about. She should be happy that her pregnancy was coming closer to an end. It was the beginning of March, the middle of her twenty-fourth week. The baby was happily kicking away a dozen times a day. Still, whenever Jesse saw her expression change, he rushed over and asked where the kick spot was, as he called it.
Abbie had accepted the bank manager’s position and moved into an apartment a few miles away. She had gracefully backed away from Jesse, but Marti knew the woman was biding her time. The boys were a constant reminder of her proposal: a family, a marriage of convenience. Maybe a kiss in the river, and then more.
If I stay…
What bothered Marti most was the realization that Abbie could offer Jesse so much more than she could.
The sound of a truck door slamming and Bumpus’s barking drew her to the front window. Jesse was walking up with three fishing rods over his shoulder. She opened the door so the dog could see the intruder was his master.
“Hey,” he said, leaning the poles against the wall by the door. “I always like to hear him barking when I come up. Makes me feel safer about leaving you here alone, especially at night.”
“I have to admit, he makes me feel safer, too. But about that barking…”
Jesse was already nodding. “I know, I know. He hears something out there, but I don’t know what it is.”
“For the last three nights in a row?”
For a crazy moment, as he walked toward her, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he leaned over and patted her belly. “Hi, Eli. Kick for me, little guy.” Something in his voice made the baby move, and Jesse grinned. “He likes me already. I can tell.” He sank down on the sofa with a sigh. “Those kids sure wipe me out. They’re into everything, more interested in exploring around the lake than fishing in it. I ended up having to carry them in when I dropped them off.”
Marti stiffened. “So, how is Abbie?”
He shrugged, obviously not hearing the crisp tone in her voice. “All right, I guess.”
“No proposals tonight?”
He gave her a curious look. “No. Why, you got one for me?”
She turned away. “You have too many women for my taste.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Abbie, Desiree. Is there anyone else out there with their fangs out that I should be aware of? All I ask is that you wait until I leave before you send out the invitations.”
“Whoa. Where is this coming from?”
Anger heated her face. “I feel like there are predators anxiously waiting to take my place.” She couldn’t find the right words to convey what she was feeling: threatened? Left out?
“Abbie’s not a predator.” He actually laughed at that. “She’s just offering to fill a hole you’re going to leave. Desiree and I are friends, nothing more. If there was something between us, we’d have hooked up a long time ago.” He released a quick breath. “Talk to me, Marti. What do you want from me?”
She couldn’t help it. Her gaze drifted down over his body, solid, sexy. She wanted him. “It’s hormones, that’s all.” Hormones that were unleashing jealousy, making her want to cry. “I’m going to lay down for a bit.”
Dammit, she wanted to believe that’s all it was. Because if what she was feeling wasn’t due to them, she was in a big mess.
Marti moved around in her bed for more than two hours before she finally stilled. He had been waiting impatiently for her to go to sleep. Was she dreaming about the attack?
For a while he’d convinced himself that her amnesia was permanent. The anvil-hanging-over-his-head feeling, though, pressed on.
He’d gone to her window at night again, hoping she’d moved on. That she was still not sleeping with her husband meant the trauma continued to plague her. She never seemed to sleep well. Inevitably, her memories would return, and once she saw his face, over the anvil would drop.
Three nights after he’d decided to kill her, he was still standing outside her window. But tonight the dog wasn’t roaming the house. He’d seen Jesse lock him in his bedroom. They were stupid enough to think the dog was barking for nothing. Their mistake.
The only sound he could hear were the frogs, celebrating the return of warmth. His feet were bare, better to walk quietly on the wet leaves. He would climb in through the window, strangle her in her sleep, and slip away. It would be morning before Jesse knew she was dead. He would investigate, but without Marti’s memory, it would lead to a dead end.
He slipped the glasscutter out of his pocket and cut a half moon over the window latch. With a suction cup, he pulled the piece toward him, cringing at the soft crunch of the glass parting.
Marti rolled onto her back, and he waited until he was sure she hadn’t woken. Then he reached inside and switched the lever.
With the suction cup, he managed to raise the window a half inch, enough to get his gloved finger in the crevice and lift it all the way.
Crawling in would be the hard part. He crawled halfway in before losing his balance. With the sill at his stomach, he teetered back and forth, his breath caught in his
chest. If she woke now, it would be all over. He couldn’t have that. Once he had her neck clutched in his grip, she wouldn’t be able to scream.
He was able to reach the dresser and regain his balance, but the makeshift hood he wore fell off and landed on the floor. Steadying himself, he awkwardly climbed down from the window. His heart pounded like a cissy boy’s. Man up.
After feeling around on the floor, he found the hood and slipped it back over his head.
The glow of the nightlight lit the bed. The only part of her body that showed from beneath the crumpled sheets and blanket was her face. Her rounded forehead creased with worry. Not because he was standing next to her, but from the dream that clutched her in its grasp.
The thought of his task pumped adrenaline through him. He didn’t want to kill her; he had to. No choice. He couldn’t fail this time. Last time he had threatened his rape victim into silence. She’d had no one to protect her or back her up. Marti did.He rubbed his hands together and reached down to her neck, barely visible. As soon as fingers circled her throat, her eyes opened. But she didn’t scream. She tried to move her arm, but it was encased in the sheets. He pressed tighter, anxious to have it done with before she realized she wasn’t dreaming.
Her foot escaped the blanket and slammed him in the groin. She pushed back the sheets and shoved at his chest. Then her scream tore lose, filling the room with the hoarse sound of terror. A violent fit of coughing ensued. He grasped his injured balls before realizing he had to get out of there.
“Jesse!” she managed through her coughs.
Working with his survival instinct, he locked the bedroom door just as Jesse slammed into it from the other side. Shoving Marti aside, he dove for the window, scratching his back as he slid through and fell to the ground. The crack of the wood around the door echoed in the night as he tore through the woods to the river. He heard small footsteps and dared a glance behind him. The snarling dog was racing up, as if released from the gates of hell.
His shallow dive landed him several yards from the bank. He saw the dog jumping into the river several yards behind him. The current ran swiftly, dragging him in its cold wet grasp farther and farther away. The dog disappeared in the darkness.
Stranger in the Mirror [Shades of Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) Page 17