“Because I need to talk about it. Because it’s a hard thing, a really painful thing. And the hard and painful things are the ones we need to talk about the most.”
He wasn’t so sure about any of that—at least, not when it came to this particular hard, painful thing. And the more he thought about it, the more he hated the way she’d said the truth right out loud like that. Yes, he owed his love to Irene. But it sounded all messed up, somehow, when she put it in words. “It’s just how it is, that’s all.”
She brushed his shoulder, so lightly, a touch that burned him to the core. “Look at me, please.”
He made himself meet her eyes.
She scanned his face as if seeking points of entry. “I’m sorry, Seth. I misled you. I misled us both.”
He didn’t get it. The plain fact was that if anyone had done any misleading, it had been him. Because she was right. The night that he proposed, he’d never once said straight-out that his love was not included. Saying it out loud very likely would have been a deal-killer, and he’d known that at the time. He should be ashamed of that. And he was. Not ashamed enough to have done things differently, though.
He wanted her too much, needed her, really. With her, he had everything he’d never thought to have again. He would have done worse than just misleading her to get a yes out of her that night.
She said, “You’re a wonderful man, and we fit together, you and me.”
“Exactly.”
“We’re suited to each other. The way we are together, the way our lives mesh, I never thought I was going to find that with a man. I mean, with you, doing everyday things is...fulfilling. Exciting. Just all-around right. So I wanted you, wanted to be with you. I couldn’t wait to be your wife.”
Cautiously, he suggested, “All that sounds really good.”
She nodded. “It is good.”
“And it’s the same for me. I don’t see the big problem.”
“The problem is that I said yes too soon.”
“No. Not true.”
“Yeah. I wanted everything you offered me, the two of us together, building a good life, raising Marybeth. And maybe other babies if it worked out that way. I still want it all, Seth. Everything you offered me. That isn’t going to change.” She reached out—and hesitated just before she touched him. Her hand fell to her thigh.
“Jody—”
“Wait. Please. The truth is, I want what we have, and I’m happy. But I want your love, too. I can accept that Irene will always have a claim on your heart. I respect that. I think that’s beautiful and right. But you have to make room for me in there, too. That’s what marriage is. We stood up together in front of Pastor Jacobs and promised to love and honor each other. Love, Seth. It was right there in our wedding vows.”
He didn’t know what to say to her. “Jody. I told you. I do care for you.”
Her lip curled, and not in a smile. “Okay, now you’re starting to tick me off.”
“What? I don’t—”
“Don’t give me that I care for you crap, Seth. I know that you care for me. You care for me in a thousand ways, and I love every one of them. But your care for me is not what we’re talking about here.”
“I just...” He stood. “I can’t talk about this anymore. There’s just no point.”
She tipped that beautiful face up to him, her soft mouth set. “You may be right.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “What are you saying?”
A frown creased the smooth space between her eyebrows. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
“Jody, dear God in heaven. What we have is good.”
She rose, too, unfolding those fine legs to stand and face him. “I know it is, Seth.” Her voice was soft now, almost tender. “I love you. I do.”
There it was again—a flash of heat, a stab of shame. “We’ll be all right.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Why are you talking like this? You’re my wife. Of course you know. We’ll work it out. That’s what married people do.” Or what they should do, anyway.
Now he was thinking of his mother, all those years ago, running off with some drifter and never coming back. Not a lot of working-things-out going on there.
Jody said, “I would like you to give what I’ve said some serious thought. It might not hurt to find someone to talk about it with.”
He glared down at her. “Someone to talk with?”
“That’s right. I think talking to someone else about this could be a good thing for you.”
How was this happening? The whole world was spinning right out of his control. “A psychiatrist, is that what you mean? I don’t need a shrink.”
“If you’re uncomfortable with a professional, maybe call your dad or talk to Roman or Pastor Jacobs...”
His dad. She wanted him to call his dad about this? Not happening. And Roman? Even worse.
As for Pastor Jacobs...
No.
Just no.
“I’ll think about it,” he said. And he would. Way too much. Not that thinking about it would have him running to Pastor Jacobs to spill his guts. When a man had problems, he worked them out himself.
And for now, well, he didn’t need to stand here and listen to her hint that she might be planning to leave him. “Is that all, then?”
“Think about what I’ve said. Please?”
He couldn’t take anymore. He had to get out of there. “I’m going out to the Bar-Y. You coming?”
“No. You go ahead.” She speared her fingers in her silky hair and raked it back from her forehead. “I could use a little time to myself, anyway.”
* * *
Jody cleaned the house that day. She did laundry. She roasted a chicken with new potatoes for dinner, though she had her doubts that Seth would return for the meal.
But he did return.
And when he came back, he was calm and so kind. He praised the meal and talked about the new tractor he and Roman were thinking of buying. He took over with the baby the way he always did, changing diapers, walking her, whispering to her, cuddling her while he watched the Rockies game.
In bed, he pulled Jody close. She went to him with a yearning sigh. She gloried in his kiss, in his every caress. Their lovemaking was urgent and better than ever.
Afterward, he held her close. She tipped her head back and kissed him. “I love you,” she said and prayed that a miracle might happen, and he would say it back to her.
Or at least, that he might be willing to talk about the problem some more.
Her prayers were not answered.
He said, “Good night, Jody.” And he reached over and turned off the light.
* * *
Monday was more of the same. He was attentive and warm to her at breakfast. When he got home that night, he was helpful and kind.
They reached for each other when they went to bed. He entered her slowly. The heat between them burned high. It was heaven, just to be held in his arms.
But when she told him she loved him, he did not say it back—or even acknowledge that she’d said it at all.
Same thing on Tuesday. A whole lot of mutual civility between them, but every word felt empty. He was in the same room, but a million miles away from her.
That night, she went to bed early. When she got up to feed Marybeth, he was sleeping beside her, a big lump under the covers, facing the wall.
Wednesday, it got worse. They didn’t talk. He ate breakfast, carried his dishes to the sink and left her there to finish up her bacon and eggs alone.
The distance between them was growing. She had to do something.
That night, at dinner, she said, “I’ve been thinking about what we discussed on Sunday...”
He put up a hand. “Do
n’t go there, Jody. There’s just no point.”
Tears scalded her throat and burned behind her eyes. But she’d be damned if she let them fall.
Uh-uh.
She finished her dinner in silence, put the dishes in the dishwasher and went to bed early again.
Thursday, she met Elise at the bakery for breakfast. They talked about the honeymoon Elise and Jed were planning. As soon as Jed finished the novel he was working on, they would fly to Paris for three weeks.
Elise sensed that things weren’t right with Jody.
“You know you’re going to need to talk about it eventually,” Elise said as she cut her muffin into quarters and then blotted up the crumbs with her fork. “Whatever it is, I’m here and I’m listening.”
Jody cut a bite of her cinnamon coffee cake and then didn’t even feel like eating it. She felt so low, she had trouble pretending that nothing was wrong. “I can’t talk about it now, but you’re the best and I love you.”
“When you’re ready, let me know. I’m here.”
“I know. And I will.” She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But things weren’t getting any better between her and Seth. At some point, she was going to need to talk it out with someone. Elise would most likely be the one.
Or maybe Nellie. Or Clara. Or Ava or Rory.
Actually, it cheered her up just to think of her sisters, of all the women of her family by blood and by marriage. When she needed them, they would be right there. As fed up as she was with Seth, she ached for him that he seemed to have no one he would tell his secrets to.
He used to tell them to her.
But since she wouldn’t stop repeating her unbearable words of love to him, he was telling her nothing.
Nothing at all.
And she, well, she totally resented this crap he was giving her.
He had it all wrong. And he had to know that. What man did that? Told a woman she could have everything from him, all that he was and all that he owned.
Just not his love.
That hurt. It was a blow straight to her heart. And every time she said she loved him and got nothing back, he just drove the pain deeper.
The pain made her angry.
And she was mad at herself as much as at him. She had known where he stood on the question of loving that night he asked her to marry him. She’d known, but she’d said yes, anyway. She really was a complete fool when it came to love.
It had to stop. They needed, somehow, to work it out.
But again that night, they slept turned away from each other, each clinging to their separate sides of the bed.
Friday night it was the same.
Saturday, she took Marybeth and went to Bloom for a few hours. When she got back to the house, he was still at the justice center. He showed up at a little after one and went straight to the spare room to put away his service weapon and badge in the safe he’d installed there.
A few minutes later, he appeared in the great room, where Jody was folding laundry, with Marybeth in her bouncy seat on the floor. He picked up the baby and patted her back. She cooed in contentment that Daddy was home.
“I’m going out to the Bar-Y,” he said. “Will you come with me?” He looked so tired. She ached for him.
And for herself. “Sure.” She planned to go into Bloom the next day for a couple of hours. “I’ll need my own car, so I’ll follow you in the Tahoe.”
At the ranch, he went off with Roman to look for a missing calf. She hung out with Mae. They all had dinner together, and then Mae and Roman went back to their house across the yard.
By eight, Marybeth was asleep in her freshly painted and furnished room. Seth sat in the family room staring at the TV.
And Jody?
She just couldn’t take it anymore. Not one more night marooned on her side of the bed. Uh-uh. Not doing that.
In the big master bedroom that looked out on the backyard, she got out the suitcase she’d stored in the closet a couple of weeks before and filled it with random items of clothing she’d been leaving at the ranch since she and Seth got married. There were a few things in the baby’s room she needed, too, but she would grab those just before she went out the door.
She rolled the suitcase into the family room. Seth glanced over and saw her.
The suitcase got his attention. He pointed the remote. The TV went dark. “Jody,” he said wearily. “What are you doing?”
“This isn’t working.” She launched into the little speech she’d been rehearsing as she packed. “I think we need a break. I’m going back to the other house, and I want you to stay here. For a while. Until we find a way to work things out.”
He stood and demanded, “You’re leaving me?” He took a step in her direction.
She put up a hand and he stopped. “No, Seth. I’m not leaving you. I told you, I’m taking a break.”
His eyes burned right through her. “Leaving won’t solve anything.”
“Maybe not. But I’m not spending another night with you like this. I’m going to put this suitcase in the Tahoe and then get Marybeth—and don’t worry. I know you’ll want to see her. So I’m thinking you can stop by a few hours a day at the other house. Call me tomorrow. We can work that out.”
He moved a step closer. “This isn’t right.”
“If you take another step I’m going to say stuff you won’t like.”
He froze. “Jody. Don’t go.” And then he did what she’d warned him not to. He took another step and another. Until he was standing right in front of her, smelling of soap from the shower he’d taken before dinner—soap and that woodsy aftershave of his. And man.
All man.
Her man that she desperately needed a break from.
She swallowed hard and glared up at him. “I warned you.”
And then he made it worse. He lifted his big hand and cradled the side of her face. His touch burned as hot as his gaze on her. “Jody...”
She knocked his hand away and jumped back. “You need to do some thinking, Seth. You need to decide if you’re going to be mine or not. I know you loved her. And I know your guilt runs bone-deep, that she died and you weren’t able to save her. But this thing you have, this rule you have about not having any love for me, about saving all your love for her? It’s a rotten rule, Seth. And I’m not going to live my life with some bad rule of yours sucking all the joy from every moment we have together.”
“Jody, stay.”
“No.”
“Jody, please.” His voice was so gentle now. Full of love—or whatever it was he felt for her that couldn’t be love because he loved a dead woman and not her.
“Uh-uh. Not like this.” Bracing herself against the temptation to soften toward him, she rolled the suitcase around in front of her, making it a barrier between them.
“Walking out on me solves nothing.”
“Maybe not. But I need to go.”
“Jody, you said it yourself. You knew the situation when you married me. I want you. I like you. I’m happy with you—or I was, until just lately. We can have everything together. Why can’t you see that?”
“What I see is it’s not everything if your love gets saved for her.”
“Jody, be reasonable.”
“Reasonable? Forget that. I’m not feeling reasonable, and I’m also not through. It’s...it’s ridiculous, is what it is. You’ve, what? Had your great love and you can’t love again? Please. It’s what I said. It’s crap, as big a bunch of crap as your other rule about not dating women from town. And you know what? I might have put up with it. I might have let it go, gotten over it, given you time to come to trust and believe in what we have together, given you time to finally let her go—but no. You had to make it crystal clear that you’re never getting over her. You had to be sure I understood that twenty ye
ars from now, I’ll be loving you with everything I have in me to love—and you’ll still be cutting me out, telling me you like me and want me and I’m yours, but as for loving me? So sorry, Jody. Out of luck there.”
His ears were bright red, and his face had gone ghost pale. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” She leaned over the suitcase to wave her hand in his face. “Oh, come on. You don’t even want to start lecturing me about what’s fair. I waited my whole life for you, and if you think I’m settling for less than all of you, you need to think again.” She grabbed the handle of the suitcase and turned for the door.
He didn’t try to stop her.
Which was just as well. She’d said all she had to say to him. For now, she just needed to throw the suitcase in the Tahoe, grab the baby and return to the empty house in town where she could nurse her broken heart in peace.
Chapter Twelve
For the past few days, Seth had believed that it couldn’t get any worse between him and Jody.
But now she’d taken Marybeth and returned to town without him.
Yeah. Okay, he got the picture now.
It not only could get worse. It just had.
And she’d left in a fury. Had she been careful driving home? He shut his eyes to block out the sudden graphic image of her Tahoe wrapped around a tree.
He made himself wait a half an hour before he called to be sure she’d gotten back to the house safely.
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice flat, disengaged. “Thanks.”
“I...left my badge and the Glock in the safe there.”
“Come and get it tomorrow. And anything else here you need.”
You. I need you and I need Marybeth. “Can I see Marybeth, too?”
“Of course. Three o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.”
“See you then.” And before he could think of what to say to keep her on the line, she was gone.
He stared at the TV for a while and then went upstairs to face his bed without her in it.
The next day crawled by. It seemed like three o’clock would never come.
He knocked on the door of the house where he used to live like some stranger come to visit. She answered with Marybeth in her arms. He stood there and stared at her, at her blue eyes that saw too much, at her mouth that he wondered if he’d ever get to kiss again.
The Lawman's Convenient Bride Page 16