"Uh—hi," she said brightly. "We were just cleaning."
Maria beamed. Maggie smiled. Ted explained.
"Well, we started cleaning, but we got sort of distracted—by a pillow fight," he said hastily. Maria noticed a slight rumple in one bedspread, but she didn't say anything.
"Momma, I tried to uphold the family honor, but I had to let the lady win in the end." He picked up a feather and handed it to Cassie with a flourish and a grin.
Maria saw her son totally reborn in that instant. Her sons' old room had indeed been cleaned until it sparkled. It seemed to her as if the dust of years had been blown away forever, and a fresh breeze came through the open windows, and whispered of spring.
Ted took the key from his pocket and handed it to his mother. "We don't need to lock this room any more, Momma. There are no more ghosts to keep behind closed doors."
"I am so glad." Maria hugged him. "And all the family pictures are back in their places, I see." Tears glistened in her eyes, and she reached down for the corner of an apron she wasn't wearing to wipe them away. "Now both of you take a look at what Maggie and I bought for Liz's new baby when it comes."
The women left the room, and Cassie heard the rustle of shopping bags being emptied onto the kingsized bed in the master bedroom.
"Oh, brother," Ted muttered under his breath. "There's nothing Momma likes more than buying for a layette. How can one tiny baby ever wear so many clothes?"
Cassie gave him a playful swat on his rear, and a surge of pure desire filled her body at just touching him once through the soft denim. Ted turned around with a certain look in his eyes, but Cassie stopped him.
"Oh, no. We're not alone and you just gave your mother the key to that door. You're going to look at baby clothes and you're going to make appreciative noises about each and every itty-bitty nightgown."
She took his hand and pulled him to her. Ted looked down into her gorgeous green eyes, loving the love he saw there, at last. He held her close for the moment she would allow, relishing the faint smell of lemon furniture polish on the mostly clean dustrag that held back her hair.
We're going to have an interesting life, he thought suddenly. And he was finally ready to live it.
Chapter Eleven
Ted spent most of the next day on a tractor, feeling truly healed even though his leg still twinged when he clambered up into the seat. But he didn't let it slow him down any.
He was grimy, sweaty, and whistling when he walked in the back door that evening. "What a wonderful day!" he announced to his father, Maria, and Cassie, who were still sitting at the supper table. "Spring's really here. I can feel it."
Bob nodded. "I've been feeling livelier myself. Remember what that sawbones said, though. You don't want to get too frisky until those weak muscles in your leg heal."
When he said frisky, Cassie hid a smile, but Ted saw her dimple up. He grinned.
"I'll try to remember that, Dad. But the physical therapist I've been seeing thought I could handle a little friskiness."
Cassie turned bright red.
Bob nodded again, with a solemnity that belied the twinkle in his eye.
"Sit down, son. We just finished supper, but your mother saved some food for you."
Maria smiled. "I figured you'd be hungry. Working outside builds a hearty appetite."
"Thanks, Momma. I can heat it up in the microwave." He heaped a plate with chicken cutlets, bread and butter, and the solitary ear of corn that was left.
"Think three minutes will heat all this food, Cassie?"
She pushed her chair back.
"Guess I'll have to show you how to push the buttons, huh?"
Bob and Maria didn't look up as she followed their son into the kitchen, but they were hiding smiles of their own.
"Is this the man who's going to live in his great, big cabin in the woods without a woman?" Cassie teased. "You'll have to buy a cookbook. Anyway, it's three minutes for chicken and two minutes for corn. Don't reheat bread for more than thirty seconds or it'll get so hard you can kill a cow with it."
"Okay, okay!" Ted held up both hands in surrender. "I have to learn everything the hard way."
She laughed lightly, a tinkling sound that reminded him of the fancy silver wind chimes his grandparents had sent Momma from south Texas. Cassie only laughed like that when she was really happy, and knowing that made him happy, too.
Ted looked at her sitting at the head of the big kitchen table where Momma made bread and biscuits and cooked for the family. Cassie looked so content that he knew she belonged there . . . permanently. He hoped and prayed every day that she would never leave, and he had long since regretted the plan they'd come up with in the hospital room.
Fortunately, they had forgotten to make any rules to cover what happened yesterday in his old room. He hadn't exactly planned it . . . but Ted knew he'd do anything in his power to make it happen again.
Cassie looked at him fondly, realizing that they were hanging around the kitchen just like married folks. Not that she was prepared to make any decisions in that area just yet, no matter what had happened between them the day before. The memory of the searing goodnight kisses they had shared at her bedroom door that same night were enough to make her turn scarlet all over again.
Ted noticed the blush and the sparkle in her eyes, and leaned over to give her a long, loving kiss, which made her blush even more.
"Tell me something, Cassie," he said carefully. The microwave interrupted him with an annoying triple beep, and he opened the door to let his food cool. "If you could marry me all over again—if you decide that you want to, that is, after we divorce—what kind of wedding would you like?"
"Oh . . . I don't know," she said impatiently. "I used to dream about an outdoor wedding with my granny sitting in the front row of chairs. I wanted a white satin dress with a long veil and a longer train, and I wanted a big cake and a handsome groom to feed me most of it. But those were just my little girl dreams."
Cassie considered his question for a long moment. "Now I think what I want most is for someone to love me for just me. Not what they think I might be. Not for what they think they could make me into, but just me. I don't know what I want in a wedding, Ted. I don't care about all that foofaraw."
"Well, what do you care about?"
"Finding the right person to spend the rest of my life with. When I'm good and ready to settle down," she answered.
"Give me a hint. What kind of person would that be?"
"A kind and caring man who wants to love me for all eternity. That's all," she said lightly. This whole subject was making her nervous, anyway.
"That's not the kind of man you want, Cassie." Ted laughed, which annoyed her to no end. "You want someone to keep you on your toes, to keep you guessing about what's just around the corner of life, someone to hold and love you and hang in there and fight with you, too."
"Oh, what would a pigheaded man like you know what a lady wants in a husband?" she retorted.
"Pigs aren't so bad once you get to know them." He laughed again. "They can be right friendly." This was the Cassie he liked best. The spitfire—not the one who sometimes seemed to think her life would turn out like a romance novel. All nice and neatly wrapped up by its happy ending, complete with a tame hero, with nothing between his ears and a ring through his nose.
Cassie just glared at him, stymied for the moment. He had agreed more or less not to talk about marriage, and he had somehow tricked her into doing just that. She wanted to smack him.
She also wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him until he melted like butter on hot biscuits. And she wanted to feel him kiss her back so that warm feeling he caused in her grew until it enveloped her whole body. She wanted to tell him a thousand times that she would always love him, but she couldn't. Yesterday had been beautiful for both of them, but in the long run, what if it didn't mean anything at all?
Both of them needed more time to figure out if this was the Real Thing. Or not, as th
e case may be.
"Hmph," Cassie snorted. "Pigs don't know anything about love. I'm going to bed. I have to get up early. Enjoy your supper. It's stone cold by now and it serves you right."
Cassie ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Ted followed right behind her. When they reached her door, he pulled her roughly into his arms and against his broad chest. Then he tilted her chin back and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose, her eyelids, and finally on her closed mouth, until she relented and let him really kiss her.
"Oink, oink," he said when he let her go. He left her standing there, annoyed all over again, as he ambled toward his own room.
Chapter Twelve
Financial records were arranged in neat stacks on the desk in front of Ted. He picked up one stack, rifled through it, shook his head, and set the papers back down. He wondered why he always waited until the last minute to do his personal taxes. Today was April 15, he had to have them in the mail by five o'clock, and he hadn't even begun.
Sun rays danced through the open window, tempting him to come outside. He could almost hear the engine roar in his tractor, or see the trout in the river swimming just under the surface of the water, waiting to be caught. Guy stuff—that's what he wanted to do. Not accountant stuff. Even a good fight with Cassie would be more fun than doing his taxes.
With a heartfelt sigh, Ted picked up a pencil to begin the preliminary report. He filled in his full name, social security number, and started to check the box marked Single, when he realized with a start that he would have to file as a married man.
Uncle Sam didn't care how he had been married, or why. He didn't care if Ted and Cassie had made love only one time. Uncle Sam didn't even care if they never had. They were legally married on December 30 of the previous years as far as the I.R.S. was concerned and to the I.R.S., that meant they had been married all year.
Ted reached across his desk and dialed the clinic. Cassie usually answered the phone first, and she didn't disappoint him this time.
"Cassie?"
"Yes, Ted? Something wrong?"
"I don't think so," he said. "I'm working on my tax return and it just dawned on me that I can't file as single. We were married on December 30, right?"
"Right."
"So as far as Uncle Sam is concerned, we were married all last year." He paused. "Is it all right with you if I file the taxes jointly?" he asked.
"Sure," she said absentmindedly. "Need me to sign anything?"
"Yes. I'll bring the forms down to the clinic when I get finished. Got to get them in the mail by five. Oh, by the way, how about dinner at the Fin and Feather to celebrate getting the taxes done? You don't even have to beat me with a pillow . . . I'll pay. Cassie?"
She set down the receiver with a thunk, but he could still hear her voice.
"Good morning, ma'am. We'll be right with you. Please make yourself comfortable and Milly will call you soon," she said, speaking to a patient.
"Was that a yes or a no? " he teased, when she was talking to him again.
"Yes, you exasperating man. Can I go home and change before we go?"
"Of course." His heart was beating faster. "And if you don't take forever primping, we can catch a movie after we eat. What would you like to see?"
"I don't care. So long as it's nothing with blood and guts. By the way, I don't take forever to get ready to go somewhere," Cassie argued.
"You've never gotten to the church on time. We all have to wait and wait for you," he argued right back. "That's not a good sign, you know."
"Oh, hush," she snapped. "You're not going to trick me into talking about marriage in that roundabout way. See you later when I finish up. I'll starve myself until tonight."
"Are we having a role reversal? Are you going to be the pig tonight?"
"I'm going to hang up on you right now." She hung up.
Ted picked up his financial records and tax forms and started with a newfound sense of purpose. At noon Maria brought up his lunch on a tray.
"Thanks, Momma. Sit down." He picked out a sandwich. "I've got a lot done so I can take a few minutes. You should've seen this desk an hour ago. It looked like a Presidential aide from Washington, D.C., dropped all the paper in the White House on it. I'm making progress, though."
"Doesn't look like it." His mother sat down in the leather chair in front of his desk. "Why are there so many papers for everything we do?"
"I just figured something out, Momma. Because of Cassie, I can file as Married this year. That means I get a refund I wouldn't have gotten otherwise . . . about six thousand dollars more."
"Then buy Cassie a used car," Maria said. "If it weren't for her you wouldn't have the money and you don't need it anyway. She shouldn't have to rely on us to take her everywhere she wants to go. I know there are days when I think she'd like to go shopping or just go for a drive, but she's not the kind to impose and ask."
"But—" Ted started.
"But what?" Maria said patiently. "Are you afraid if you buy her a car she will leave? Give her the freedom she needs. She is still very young, Ted. And perhaps you aren't old enough to understand that when she knows who her heart belongs to . . . and where home is . . . then she'll come back to you."
"I don't want her to leave." Ted stood up and paced. "I love her, Momma, and I'm scared to death of losing her."
"I know. And I know you've loved her for a while. After your accident you two became much closer. But if you love her, you must do what you can to show her. She is afraid, too. Perhaps she is afraid of loving you too much . . ."
"How do you know that?"
Maria smiled. "I was young once, my son, not too long ago. And I am a woman as well as a mother. I know a little about love." She got up and kissed him on the forehead and left, closing the door softly behind her.
In the middle of the afternoon his father wandered in carrying a tall glass of iced tea. "Thought you might be gettin' dry. Doing your taxes is hard work," he laughed.
"Thanks for the refresher. Yeah, this is about as exciting as watching the dust settle in the road when the cars go by." Ted was glad for his father's company. "Actually, I'm almost done. I just have to type the final copy."
"Your mother tells me you'll get a big refund because you're married. She thinks you should buy Cassie a car. I agree with her," Bob said.
"You're both right," Ted nodded. "But if I make it easy for her to leave—well, what if she doesn't come back?"
"Betcha she does." His father's eyes twinkled. "Betcha she's back here in six months. Let's make this interesting."
Ted rolled his eyes and listened.
"I'll bet you one oil well—a producing one—against that ten acres of bottom land with your name on it. If Cassie doesn't come back in six months, you get the oil well. If she does come back, I get the land. If she never leaves at all, you get the oil well and you get to keep the land.
Ted groaned.
"Cassie would go up in flames if she thought we were betting on what she might or might not do."
"Keep it between us, son." Bob winked. "Better get going. You wouldn't want to keep Cassie waiting for her special evening out."
"How'd you know what I was planning?"
"I have my ways of finding things out," Bob said affably, and sauntered out.
If everybody knew so much, why couldn't one smart little redhead know that he loved her? Ted thought crossly. And why did she still have to argue with him over every little thing? After the way they'd made love, the way she'd kissed him afterwards . . . Ted gritted his teeth. Thinking about making love to Cassie again wasn't going to help him finish his taxes.
At four o'clock, he was done. Ted cleaned off his desk, filed everything neatly, and was at the clinic by four-thirty for Cassie to sign the tax return. She didn't even seem to look at the figures, didn't seem to care how much her husband had earned the previous year. She just signed her married name, Cassie Wellman, as casually as she endorsed her paychecks, and went back to work.
Ted wen
t to the post office and waited around until a few minutes past five so he could take her home.
Cassie dashed upstairs to change. For the first time in weeks, her hair actually cooperated. It went up in a perfect French twist with springy little tendrils in front of her ears. She chose a navy knit column dress with a row of tiny gold buttons from the neck to the slit above her knee, and a pair of navy high heels with gold ankle straps.
She waited in the living room for him to come down the stairs. "Well, now, who's waiting for whom? Here I am, starving to death, and you took forever to get ready. I'm so hungry the next wind whistling through town could pick me up and blow me all the way to Arkansas."
"Sorry," he said, somewhat insincerely. But the compliment he paid her was heartfelt. "You look absolutely beautiful, Cassie."
He took her in, starting at the fine gold straps that set off her slender ankles and ending at the last curl that had escaped her French twist.
"You don't look so bad yourself." She smiled in a way that made his heart beat faster. "Those jeans seem to have been starched and ironed at the cleaners. Are you trying to impress somebody?"
"Come on." He pulled her toward the door. "Before I throw you over my shoulder and have my way with you."
"Cave man," she giggled.
Less than an hour later they were seated at a corner table for two at the Fin and Feather restaurant on the south side of Oklahoma City. A red candle burned brightly in the middle of the table, which was covered with a red checkered cloth. The warm light made Cassie glow even more and Ted wanted her more than ever. The let's-wait-and-see game she was playing was driving him loco.
"Come over here and sit in my lap," he begged suddenly. "I don't care who sees. You look better than anything on this menu."
"I should hope I look better than the chicken and catfish special," she said primly. "Here comes the waitress. Hush." She put a finger over her pouty red lips to hush him properly, and he wished passionately that he could kiss her. Right here, right now.
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