by Amelia Autin
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I think deep down she knows what she did was wrong. She just won’t admit it. There’s a small part of me that says she should be punished, but most of me says she’s been through enough. What do you think?”
Rennie was too surprised to answer at first. She hadn’t thought he’d ask for her advice about disciplining his children, not this early in their relationship. She considered the problem carefully.
“I think you’re right—she’s been punished enough. Especially since Cheyenne was injured. Emily says Nicki loves that horse. I don’t think there’s anything you could do or say to her that will deliver the message better than the sight of her horse’s knees.”
Gideon frowned. “Was he cut up badly?”
“Bad enough that he’s still at Emily’s. We had the vet out to look at him. He should be okay, but there might be some scarring.”
“Could have been worse.”
“Yes, and I think Nicki will know it. Give her time.”
He grunted his agreement, then went to the refrigerator and started to open it. He caught sight of the drawing taped to the door. He smiled briefly and glanced at Rennie.
“Is this what Trina made for me?”
“Um-hmm. It’s a horse.”
“Why does it only have three legs?”
“According to Trina, the other leg is broken.”
Gideon was surprised at his own chortle of laughter. “Very literal-minded, isn’t she?” Rennie nodded. “By the way,” he said, “what’s she doing home from school so early?” He checked his watch against the kitchen clock as if he thought it might be wrong.
“When she heard you were coming home today she begged me to let her stay home from school, ‘just this once,’ and I didn’t have the heart to refuse. School’s almost over for the year, anyway.”
“You’re right. And besides, she’s only in first grade. I don’t think she’ll miss anything critical in one day.” As he spoke he opened the refrigerator door, searching the interior for something edible. “You know, I forgot to warn you that I didn’t have much fresh food in the house. I’ve been eating out in the bunkhouse with the men these last few months.”
“Emily thought that might be the case, so she stopped in Carter’s Junction yesterday and picked up a few things, enough for us to get by.”
“Is there anything besides peanut butter and jelly?” He touched the smeared remains Andrew had left on his shirt and grinned. “I had an early breakfast and we didn’t stop for anything on the road, so I’m starved.”
“I can make you a ham and cheese sandwich. And there’s some turkey left.”
“Ham and cheese sounds good, but I can do it.”
“I don’t mind. Why don’t you go see if Nicki’s ready for lunch? What’s her favorite?”
“Grilled cheese, but you don’t have to go to all that trouble.” He headed for the door.
“It’s no big deal. How do you want your sandwich?”
“With everything. And make that two sandwiches while you’re at it.” The door swung shut behind him.
Rennie brought out a loaf of bread, then took everything she needed out of the refrigerator and busied herself with the sandwiches. It was unexpectedly satisfying doing things for Gideon, even something as prosaic as making his lunch.
She smiled to herself. It wasn’t that she’d forgotten how Gideon looked or how she felt about him, but she hadn’t been prepared for the impact he had on her senses. She’d forgotten how very male he was. When he’d walked through the kitchen door she’d wanted to do just what Trina and Andrew did: throw her arms around him and burrow against that masculine strength. She’d restrained herself, unsure of her welcome.
Rennie cut the sandwiches in half and arranged them on a plate, then added some potato chips. She set the plate at the head of the table, where Trina had previously informed her, “Daddy always sits there!” Next to it she put the bowl of fresh fruit that had been sitting on the counter. If Gideon wanted an apple or a banana he could help himself. Lastly, she filled a tall glass with milk and put it by his place, then turned her attention to preparing Nicki’s lunch.
The grilled cheese sandwich was finished and already cooling before a tight-lipped Gideon returned without Nicki. “She’s not hungry,” he said tersely in response to Rennie’s questioning look, before starting on his own food.
“Oh.” She looked at Nicki’s plate and sighed. She covered the plate with plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator, then went back to cleaning the griddle.
She searched her mind for a safe topic of conversation. “I’ll need to go grocery shopping sometime soon. As you said, there isn’t much food in the house. I found some steaks in the freezer yesterday. I thawed them, so we’ll have those for dinner tonight. And there’s a package of lamb chops that we can have tomorrow night. But that’s about it.” She wiped her hands on a towel and pulled a piece of paper toward her. “I’ve never really shopped for a family, so I asked Emily to help me make up a list of what we need.” She brought it over and put it beside Gideon’s plate. “Would you look at it and see if I missed anything?”
He quickly scanned the contents of the list. “Looks good to me.” He handed it back to her. “Let me know when you want to go and I’ll take you in to Sheridan. We can go to the bank at the same time and have you added as a signer on my checking account. Oh, and that reminds me. I have something for you.” He dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out a set of car keys. “These are yours.”
“Mine?” Rennie took the keys and stared at them, puzzled.
“Yeah. I promised to buy you something more suitable to drive than your sports car, remember?”
“I remember.”
He smiled. “So I bought you a new Blazer in Casper.”
“What?”
He gestured with his head. “It’s out front. I needed transportation back here, anyway, and there’s a bigger selection in Casper than there is in Sheridan, so...” He picked up his second half sandwich and took a bite.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing to say. Just have a set of your car keys made for me and we’re even.” His eyes twinkled at her.
She shook her head at him as if to say, “What am I going to do with you?”
Whatever Gideon had intended to respond was forgotten when a wail arose from the front of the house.
“That’s Andrew.” He started to rise.
She pressed him back in his seat. “I’ll go see what the problem is. You finish your lunch.”
“You sure?” he said doubtfully as the wailing increased in intensity.
“At least let me try.”
Gideon watched her shapely rear end, encased in jeans that lovingly hugged each curve, disappear through the swinging door. The sight triggered memories, like the firm, silky feel of that shapely rear end under his palms as he pulled her closer to deepen his thrusts. Like the feel of her legs wrapped around his thighs as he brought both of them to completion.
His body tightened involuntarily and he tried to clamp down on his wayward thoughts. Get a grip on yourself, Lowell. It’s the middle of the day, for God’s sake, and you’ve got a week’s worth of work to catch up on.
It didn’t help much. He forced himself to concentrate on food, satisfying the lesser of his two hungers. When he’d polished everything off and Rennie still hadn’t returned, he put his plate in the sink and went in search of her.
He found her in the family room, seated in the rocking chair with Andrew cuddled on her lap. She was humming, a soft, melodious tune he didn’t recognize but which gently touched something deep inside him. It made Gideon think of dappled sunlight on a meadow, the lazy rustle of wind through tall grass, water tumbling over a streambed. From the way his son’s eyes were sliding shut, he knew the tune was having the same calming effect on Andrew as it was on him.
Rennie continued to rock, even after Andrew’s eyes closed completely. In a low tone she s
aid, “It was time for his nap, anyway, so I thought I’d try to get him to go down. He’s almost asleep.”
The little boy’s eyes fluttered open and he made a sound of protest. “Sshh,” she told him softly. “It’s okay. Close your eyes.”
She began humming again, and Gideon recognized the lullaby as one from his own childhood. He stood rooted to the spot, his emotions in turmoil. There was something achingly poignant about watching Rennie with his son, the quintessential picture of eternal motherhood. Generations of Lowell women had sat in that rocker, babes in their arms, nursing, soothing hurts, lulling to sleep.
Johanna had sat there with Nicki, he remembered, and then Trina. The memories were as vivid and fresh as if it were yesterday and not years past. On those long winter evenings, while he sat at his desk and pretended to do his paperwork, he’d secretly watched Jo with their baby at her breast. Even though he’d been a shade envious of the bond between a nursing mother and child, it had been deeply satisfying, making all his hard, sometimes drudging work worthwhile.
Jo had never had a chance to hold their son in her arms, had never nursed him, had never sung lullabies to him. And Andrew had never known a mother’s love, had never known the security of a mother’s arms. Until now. Until Rennie.
Shaken, he realized he was standing on the threshold of a startling revelation. He abruptly pivoted and left the room, not wanting to face it, unable to deal with any more emotional upheaval in his life right now. At the front door he grabbed his Stetson and crammed it on his head. Then he went outside on the porch and leaned his arms against the railing, his muscles clenched tightly. He drew in several deep breaths and let them out, trying to calm himself.
He didn’t need this. He didn’t want this. He’d married Rennie to get a mother for his children, not to rip open the scars on his heart. It wasn’t fair.
Fair? he jeered at himself. You sound like Trina, complaining because she doesn’t get to do all the things Nicki is allowed to do. What’s fair? Is it fair that Jo died? Is it fair that Rennie be denied children of her own when it’s obvious she’s a wonderful mother? Is it fair to make comparisons between Rennie and Johanna, to compare what you feel for one against what you felt for the other?
The last thought brought him up short. What he felt for the other? When had his love for Jo become the past tense? When had his jumbled feelings for Rennie coalesced into something more, something strangely akin to lo—
No! It’s not true. I won’t let it be true. I don’t want to love Rennie. I loved Jo and she died. I love Nicki and look what almost happened. I can’t go through this again. I just can’t.
Work. That’s what he needed. The mindless exertion of physical effort to wear himself out and keep him from dwelling on things he couldn’t bear.
He jumped down from the porch and strode toward the barn.
* * *
The kitchen clock was chiming the hour when Gideon quietly let himself in the back door. Nine o’clock. The kids would be in bed already, but whether they’d be asleep was anybody’s guess. Their normal routine was lights out at 8:00 p.m., but they never fell asleep right away. As soon as he cleaned himself up he’d check on them.
He pulled off his muddy boots and left them by the back door, dropped his hat on the kitchen table, then went into the bathroom off the kitchen and turned on the light. He caught a whiff of himself. He reeked of horse sweat and sheep. He peeled off his filthy clothes, stuffed them in the laundry hamper and stepped into the shower. He turned on the water and just stood there for a minute, letting the hot water sluice the dirt and sweat from his body, then lathered himself all over and quickly rinsed off.
He grabbed a towel off the rack and dried himself with it, then shrugged on the robe he kept hanging on the back of the bathroom door. He wondered idly if Rennie had had a chance to start on the laundry, which had piled up lately.
Rennie. He’d fought off thoughts of her for hours, but she kept creeping back. He’d sent word by one of his ranch hands that he wouldn’t be back in time for dinner, so not to wait for him. Then he’d ridden off by himself, checking fences that didn’t need checking.
As he finger-combed his hair, he told himself that Rennie was probably upset with him for leaving her to fend for herself with the children his first night back. He wouldn’t blame her if she was, but he hadn’t been able to face her in the state he’d been then.
Now it was a different story. He’d come to terms with some things on his solitary ride. He acknowledged that even though he couldn’t, wouldn’t, love Rennie, he wanted to recapture the closeness they’d found on their honeymoon, both in bed and out. He wanted to share his children with her, the joys, the worry, the fun. He wanted to sit with her in the evenings after the children were asleep and talk about everything and nothing. And he wanted to go to sleep with her in his arms and wake up the same way.
The only problem was, did Rennie want the same things from him? She’d married him for his children—he knew that. But in the short time they’d been married, it seemed as if she was willing to accept more. She’d come to him in his motel room. That had to mean something. Someone like her didn’t jump into bed with a man unless she had feelings for him, even if that man was legally her husband. And the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t watching, her face all soft and vulnerable, had to mean something, too.
Anticipation started a fire inside him as he padded through the house in his bare feet. He would apologize to Rennie, explain what he could, then take her to bed as he’d longed to do all evening.
But first he stopped at Andrew’s bedroom door, then Trina’s, then Nicki’s. All three slept peacefully. In Nicki’s room he stepped inside and pulled the covers back over her which she’d kicked off. She’d always been a restless sleeper. Even as a baby, he remembered, they’d had a hard time keeping her covered.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, thanking God at the same time that she was home safe and sound. He never wanted to live through anything like these last few days again.
I won’t let anything happen to you, Nicki, ever again. I promise.
He tucked the covers securely around her, kissed her once more, then left, closing the door behind him.
He opened his bedroom door, expecting to find Rennie waiting up for him, but she wasn’t there. He flicked on the light and looked around, taking in everything in one glance. Not only was his wife not there, neither were any of her things. He jerked opened the closet. Only his clothes hung there.
Nice going, Lowell. If she ever intended to share a room with you, she obviously changed her mind.
Well, damn it, he wasn’t going to give up that easily. If she wanted an apology for tonight, he’d give her one. God knew she deserved it. But he didn’t intend to spend even one more night alone. Rennie was his now—she’d given herself to him. He was damned if he’d let his own stupidity keep them apart.
He headed back down the hall to what had been the housekeeper’s bedroom, knowing that was the only place Rennie could be. He didn’t bother to knock.
She was curled up on the bed in her nightshirt, reading, the bedside lamp casting a warm glow on her face. She looked up when the door opened, but didn’t smile.
“Hi. You’re back.”
“Yeah.”
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Are you hungry? I saved some dinner for you. I could—”
“I scrounged something in the bunkhouse.”
“Oh.”
He took a step toward her. “Why are you here, Rennie?”
“What do you—”
He didn’t let her finish that sentence, either. “Why are you here, in this bedroom, and not in mine? Ours,” he corrected himself impatiently.
“I didn’t know if I was welcome,” she said with a quiet dignity that silenced him. She marked her place in the book and laid it carefully on the nightstand. As if she felt at a disadvantage, she slid off the bed and stood beside it. “When you walked into the kitchen this afternoon
, you seemed happy to see me, and I thought...well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, because tonight, when you didn’t come home, I realized I was wrong.”
Irrationally, her explanation angered him, his earlier intention to apologize forgotten. “Didn’t you get my message?”
“Yes. I got your message,” she said evenly, giving double meaning to the words. “I won’t throw myself at you again.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake the children.”
That checked him. He repeated his question, quietly this time. She swallowed, and his eyes were drawn to the pulse beating in her throat.
“When I came to your motel room,” she explained, color staining her cheeks. “Tonight, after I thought about it, I realized that I’ve put you in an awkward position. You could hardly tell me to my face that you don’t...that is, I thought your not coming home was your way of politely telling me to keep my distance.”
“Rennie, no.” He took the two steps necessary to reach her and pulled her into his arms. She resisted at first, holding herself rigid, but when he said, “I’m sorry. Every time I turn around I hurt you, and God knows I don’t mean to,” she sighed and nestled against him.
“Then you weren’t saying...”
“No! I was confused this afternoon. Seeing you with Andrew brought back...other memories.” Johanna’s name hung unspoken between them. “And too much has happened in the last few days. I needed time alone to sort things out in my mind. That’s all. I never meant you to think I don’t want you in my life.” He tilted her chin up so he could see her face. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me, to this whole family, in a long time.”
He lowered his head and their mouths met in a kiss of reconciliation. It soon changed, however, as passion flared between them. Rennie moaned softly, straining to get closer. His lips ground against hers, taking them again and again, and she wound her arms around his neck, giving him back kiss for kiss. Without breaking the kiss, Gideon caught her behind the knees and lifted her in his arms, then carried her through the dark hall back to his bedroom.