If only there was someone she could talk to, someone to give her advice. All she knew, really, about impotence, was that an impotent man could not make love, nor, therefore, could he sire children.
Joanna remembered the battered, bloody condition of Pace’s genitals after Juerta had nearly killed him. Was there no cure? No way to restore that part of a man that he thought made him who and what he was?
Spence might know, but did she have the right, even as Pace’s wife, to mention anything? Pace was so fiercely proud. He would not thank her for repeating to anyone what he’d told her. He would be humiliated.
She could not blame him for staying away. If she had to be around him day after day and know that she would never again know the pleasure of his possession because her own body would not permit it, she would go mad.
No, she could not blame him for leaving her. She could only pray that he was safe. That he could find some measure of happiness wherever he was. And that someday God would grant him a miracle and give him back that part of him that was so vital. And if that ever happened, she prayed that Pace would one day come home to her.
It was, she knew, a futile prayer.
Joanna did not see or hear of Pace again. The month of June disappeared into the solid heat of July. The Independence Day celebration at the Triple C was as grand as always, the picnic along the creek just as boisterous and filling, the fireworks after dark just as brilliant as in years past.
The whole family was there. Blake and Jessie and their four children. The oldest, Anthony, was ten now, followed by eight-year-old Joseph, six-year-old Wesley, and Sarah, age four, whom the boys and their father doted upon. Even Will and Russ weren’t immune to their little cousin’s charms.
Spence and LaRisa and young Chee were there, of course, along with everyone else. Everyone but Pace.
Joanna shared the celebration with her son and made a silent vow to herself and Chance. This would be her Independence Day, too. From this day forward she would stop rushing to the nearest window every time she heard hoofbeats. She would stop wishing, stop hoping. She would stop lying awake in bed at night remembering.
If she could do those things, perhaps God would grant her the peace of dreamless sleep, the willpower to put the past behind her and look forward. The strength to see Pace’s sky blue eyes and rakish smile on her son’s face and not feel like crying.
Another burst of color exploded in the night sky above her. She knew Chance was too young to appreciate it, but she held him up. “Look at that, Chance. Isn’t it beautiful? Happy Independence Day, my son. Happy Independence Day.”
“Joanna?” Serena asked. “Are you all right?”
Joanna hurriedly brushed the moisture from her cheeks. “I’m fine, Rena. We’re both fine, aren’t we, Chance?”
And we will be, she vowed to herself. We will both be fine.
The house was much quieter than normal since Will and Russ had gone home with Jessie and Blake after Independence Day. As the days passed, Daniella watched as little by little, Joanna began to shed the cloak of sadness she’d worn since Pace had left in May. Daniella was glad that Joanna was strong enough to carry on, to learn to enjoy life again. So very glad.
Yet at the same time, her heart was breaking, for she knew that Pace and Joanna had been born for each other. She didn’t know why Pace had left his wife and son. Family was everything to Pace. She knew what his fifteen-year feud with Matt had cost him, It was inconceivable to her that Pace could turn his back now, after he and Matt had made some sort of peace with each other.
Daniella took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Pace was beyond her reach. She did not know where he was, could not reach him with her mind. No visions danced in the flames to show her the son she ached for. But Joanna was here, and Chance.
And someone was banging on the front door.
“I’m coming,” Serena yelled from down the hall.
Daniella suddenly realized the knocking had been going on for several moments, yet she hadn’t heard it. “Old age,” she muttered to herself as she got up from the sofa in the parlor. Serena was still coming from the back of the house, so Daniella headed to answer the door.
On the way, she straightened her shoulders. Old age be damned. She didn’t have time to be old. Travis was ten years older than she was. If he could run a ranch this size, what did she have to complain about? She had two new beautiful grandbabies to fuss over, and a husband to slow down, if she could.
Then a thought occurred to her, and she laughed. Just how were they going to explain to young Chance Colton that Daniella was both his grandmother and his great grandmother?
With the smile still on her face, she opened the door. A woman stood on the threshold. The most…flamboyant woman Daniella had ever seen. She wore a satin dress of royal purple trimmed in fuchsia lace, with a neckline that would send most church-going ladies into a fainting spell. A matching parasol, flowered hat, and purple kid gloves completed the ensemble. The woman stood straight and proud. She held the parasol out before her as a man would hold his cane—hands crossed over the handle, with tip on the ground.
“Is this the Colton residence?” the woman asked in a smoky voice. Her face was powdered, her cheeks were rouged, and her lashes and eyebrows artificially darkened. Her deep black eyes studied Daniella with unabashed curiosity.
“It is,” Daniella answered as she stepped aside. “Won’t you come in?”
The visitor hiked one artificially darkened eyebrow. “Just like that?”
“You’ve obviously come here for a reason. Surely you would be more comfortable stating that reason indoors where it’s cool.”
“As a matter of fact, I would.” The woman swept past Daniella and into the front hall. “You must be Daniella Colton. My name is Kali Randolph.”
Serena rounded the corner, then slid to a halt. “I don’t believe it!” she shrieked. “Kali? Kali! It is you!”
Daniella stared, amazed, as the two women shrieked and laughed and fell into each other’s arms.
“I can’t believe it,” Serena exclaimed. “After all these years, it’s really you!”
“You haven’t changed a bit, girl. Are you still keeping that big, strapping husband of yours in line?”
Serena laughed. “I’m managing. Mama, meet Kali Randolph, from—are you still in Tombstone?”
Kali nodded. “Still there.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Daniella said with genuine warmth. The name Kali Randolph hadn’t been mentioned in years, but Daniella remembered that this was the woman who had befriended Serena and Matt when they had desperately needed a friend. Kali had helped save Matt’s life in Tombstone. Despite the loss of revenue, she had kicked Matt out of her own saloon when he’d tried to drink himself to death after Joanna’s mother had been killed.
“Come in and sit down,” Daniella urged.
Just then Joanna came from the hall leading to the nursery.
“Jo, we have a guest. Kali Randolph, this is my granddaughter, Joanna. Be a dear, Jo, and fetch us something cool to drink, will you?”
Joanna smiled a greeting, then headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”
Daniella couldn’t fail to notice the close scrutiny Kali paid Joanna. Puzzled, she followed Kali and Serena into the parlor to wait for Jo.
“I can’t believe it’s taken you fifteen years to accept my invitation to visit,” Serena told Kali, “but I don’t care. I’m just so glad to see you!”
“Let me add to that,” Daniella said, “by allowing me to give you my personal if very belated thanks for helping Serena and Matt all those years ago.”
Kali grinned. “You’re certainly welcome. I was glad to do it, even if Matt wasn’t exactly appreciative.”
“Here we are,” Joanna announced as she carried in a tray of drinks. “Lemonade, ladies? I hope you didn’t have far to travel to get here, Mrs. Randolph, but however far it was, you must be parched.”
“Thank you, I am. It’s Miss Randolph
, by the way, but I hope you’ll call me Kali.”
“Kali, it is.”
“So tell me,” Serena said eagerly. “What brings you all the way from Tombstone to the Triple C?”
Watching steadily as Joanna poured two more glasses of lemonade from the pitcher, Kali took a sip from the glass the girl had just given her. “I’m afraid I have to admit, Serena, that I came not just to visit, but for a specific reason. Pardon me, but are you Pace’s Joanna?”
Joanna nearly dropped the pitcher. “I beg your pardon?”
“Silly me, of course you are,” Kali said, answering her own question. “With that gorgeous red hair and those beautiful green eyes, who else could you be? From Pace’s description, I should have recognized you immediately, but there’s something about your eyes that threw me. I can’t quite…”
Joanna used two hands to carefully set the crystal pitcher of lemonade down on the table beside the sofa. Dear God, Pace had spoken of her to this woman? When? Where? Who was she? What was she to Pace?
“Of course,” Kali exclaimed. “Now I know what it is. You have your mother’s eyes. I could never forget Angela’s eyes.”
Joanna felt like she was in the middle of a whirlwind, being blown first one direction then another until she didn’t know which way was which. “You…knew my mother?”
“Oh, I know what you’re thinking. A woman in my line of work wouldn’t know many decent women. I only met her once. I had some trouble, and she and your father helped me out.”
That whirlwind disoriented her again. “Your line of work?”
Kali’s eyes widened. She gave Serena a mock look of horror. “Ye gods, she can’t be that naive.”
For a moment, Serena looked like she’d swallowed a live frog. Then she broke out laughing. “Ah, Kali, I have missed you. No, Jo’s not that naive. We just don’t get very many women in your profession stopping by for a visit.”
Joanna took in the plunging—all right, so it was scandalous—neckline, the face powder, the rouge, and finally understood. She blinked. “Oh. Am I supposed to be shocked?”
Kali laughed. “Gawd, I hope you’re not. ‘Cuz if what I do for a living shocks you, you’ll never survive what I’ve come here to see you about.”
The whirlwind took another swipe at Joanna. “You’ve come here to see me?”
Kali pursed her lips and looked at each woman in turn. “This is where things get…awkward. I need to speak with Joanna in private, if she’s willing.”
“Is this about Pace?” Daniella asked, half wary, half eager. “Have you seen him? Is he all right?”
“Forgive me, Mrs. Colton, but that’s what I’d like to talk to his wife about.”
“Joanna?” Serena asked.
Joanna couldn’t stem the shaking in her hands. Her mouth was dry and her heart was pounding. What could this woman have to tell her about Pace? Did she even want to hear? She’d been struggling so hard during the past weeks to find whatever peace of mind she could. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear news of Pace.
Liar!
“Rena, Gran?” Joanna paused, hoping her voice would steady. “Would you excuse Kali and me for a few minutes please?”
It took several minutes of excuses and throat-clearing before Kali and Joanna were finally alone in the parlor, with the door closed. Kali studied the young woman across from her carefully.
At forty-five, Kali prided herself on being able to read people. Joanna Colton looked like a good stiff wind would topple her, but Kali didn’t believe it. There was strength in those green eyes Pace kept talking about. Strength, and pain. That could be good, if it meant she still loved Pace. It would be bad if she’d been hurt to the point of bitterness. But she didn’t look bitter.
“Well,” Kali said, “there’s no point in beating around the bush, now, is there? Do you love Pace?”
Joanna blinked and sat up straighter. “That’s a rather personal question.”
Kali laughed. “If you think that’s personal, hon, you ain’t heard nothin’ yet. All righty, I’ll try another question. Do you know why he left you? I’m not asking you to tell me why, I’m just asking if you know. And I’m asking for a reason.”
“I know why he left.” Cold anger inched through Joanna’s veins. She tried to hold onto it, because the alternative was a pain so deep it threatened to kill her. Why would Pace have told this woman? Why, when he couldn’t even face his own wife? “It sounds to me as if perhaps you know, too,” she bit out.
“Oh, I love that haughty tone! When we’re finished, maybe you can give me pointers. I’ve never been able to get it down just right.”
Somebody was going to have to do something about that damned whirlwind, or Joanna wasn’t going to survive the afternoon. Kali’s response disoriented her, and the cold anger slipped and let in the pain. “He told you?”
“Hell, no, he didn’t tell me! A proud stud like Pace Colton?”
“He is proud. Very proud.” For something to do with her hands, Joanna picked up her glass of lemonade and took a sip.
“He’d cut out his own tongue before telling anybody a thing like that,” Kali went on. “The fact that he told you tells me I was right—he really is head over heels in love with you. Nothing else could make a man like him admit to a woman that he couldn’t get it up anymore.”
Joanna choked on a mouthful of lemonade.
“Oh, I am sorry. Here, let me help you.” Kali pulled a hanky from her royal purple and pink lace handbag—a purple hanky—and dabbed at the damp spot on Joanna’s skirt.
“It’s all right. Don’t bother. I’m fine. You, uh, have you known Pace long?”
“Known him for years. Him and your father both. The Colton family sure puts out good men. Some of the best I’ve ever known.”
Joanna reached for her glass of lemonade again, wishing it was whiskey. “Just how well have you known them?” she ground out.
“Well, now, I guess you might be a bit curious about that, since one’s your father and the other’s your husband. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Serena when I first met her. I’ve known one of them better than I should, and the other not as well as I’d like. And don’t bother asking, because I ain’t sayin’ which is which.”
Joanna should have known better than to try to swallow when Kali was winding up with one of her verbal punches. Like the last one, this mouthful of lemonade went down the wrong way and she choked.
Kali sat back on the sofa. “I guess maybe you should just put the glass down, hon. If you get choked up this easy, we’ll never get through this conversation without you strangling.”
Joanna took her advice and set the glass on the table beside her chair. “I’m not sure I want to get through this conversation.”
“Well, I guess that’s up to you. If you’re not interested in getting your husband back, you just say the word, and I’ll skedaddle right on out of here just like I came.”
“If you would just say what you came here to say, without constantly going out of your way to shock me, I’m sure I’ll survive just fine.”
“Fair enough. Pace left you because he…has a problem. He didn’t feel like a man anymore.”
“I can’t believe he told you this,” Joanna said, unable to keep the pain from her voice.
“He didn’t tell me anything, hon. Well, that’s not exactly true. He didn’t know he told me. Not at the time. He came to Tombstone and set himself up for the task of drinking all of Cochise County bone dry. Reminded me of your father after your mother was killed. But I’ve known Pace for years, and he’s never been a drunkard. Not even much of a drinker, as far as I’ve known. So I knew something bad must have happened, or he wouldn’t be trying to drown himself in my cheapest rotgut. I didn’t know he was married, so I had no idea…Anyway, to make a long story short—you’re not going to like this, but, I offered him one of my girls for the night.”
Joanna closed her eyes and fought the terrible vision of Pace in some painted woman’s arms.
�
�He laughed at me, said it’d be a waste of time. Then he told me about running afoul of that butcher down in Mexico, and how he hadn’t been able to…well, the equipment hadn’t worked right since then. Like I said, he was drunk or he never would have said that much.”
“And when he sobered up?”
“When he sobered up, I tried to talk him into seeing a doctor. Big mistake on my part. He hit the roof. Said he wasn’t about to bare his soul or his dick to some quack.”
“Is there a point you’re trying to make?” Joanna asked, wondering why she was putting herself through the torture of listening to this woman.
“A point? Hell, yes, there’s a point. The point is, he’s getting better.”
Joanna stiffened. “What do you mean, better?”
“I mean, from what he told me when he was drunk, and again the next day when he was sober, I gather that when he left you, he couldn’t…how do I put this delicately?”
“I believe the phrase you used earlier was adequate.”
“And accurate. Okay, he couldn’t get it up. Now he can.”
A harsh sound came from Joanna’s throat. When she could finally speak, she said, “I don’t know if I should laugh at your wording, cry, or scream.”
“It’s not a laughing matter, although a sense of humor does come in handy now and then. As for crying and screaming, don’t waste your time. He came back by my place a few nights ago and got shit-faced again and I found out that he more or less thought he was cured. Near as I can tell, he had a dream about you and woke up with a boner to end all boners. He was all set to rush home to you, but he got scared thinking it wouldn’t last, that when he got home, it wouldn’t work. So he figured he’d try it out on one of my girls.”
“How dare him!”
“Atta girl. You tell him. But don’t get too riled. When it got right down to it, he…lost it.”
“Lost it? Lost what?”
Apache-Colton Series Page 212