To Protect and Cherish

by Karen Rose Smith

  “Corey! Jared!” he bellowed before even stopping to think about it.

  He didn’t wait for them to make an appearance in his office. Striding furiously down the hall, he stopped at the bathroom, where they were both brushing their teeth. Their eyes were huge.

  “What were you doing in my office?”

  “After you and Mom got married, you said we could go in the rest of the house,” Corey explained, his toothbrush dripping toothpaste onto the floor.

  Tate stared down at it and felt the frustration rise up in him. He wanted to be more than “Tate” to these boys. “I didn’t say you could go into my office, and I never said that you could touch anything in there. You ruined a week’s worth of work by my architect.”

  “Tate,” Anita broke in.

  “Stay out of this, Anita. Your boys have to understand that what they did was wrong. They have to respect other people’s property.”

  Corey and Jared were perfectly still and silent. Tate saw tears well up in Corey’s eyes as he turned and ran to his room. Jared followed his brother.

  After a troubled glance at Tate, Anita headed for the boys’ room, too. But he stopped her. “Wait.”

  Her eyes were sad. “I know they did wrong. I’ll make sure they do chores for the next year to pay you back. But I need to talk to them. I don’t want them to be scared of you.”

  Scared of him?

  What had he done? Why had he reacted so strongly? Because his life had spun out of control and he couldn’t seem to get a handle on it yet?

  Lowering his voice, he admitted, “I don’t want them to be scared of me, either. That’s why I’ve got to talk to them.”

  To his chagrin, he saw that she wasn’t sure she could trust him to do that. She didn’t trust him to make her boys’ well-being as important to him as it was to her. He had to show her that he could be a father to these boys—and a good one. “Give me a chance, Anita.”

  When she finally nodded, he hurried down the hall to the twins’ room.

  Corey was on his bed, hugging the old stuffed dog he slept with. Beside the bed on the floor, Jared ran a truck over the carpet.

  Unsure where to begin, Tate sat down on the bed beside Corey and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  When Corey flinched, his fear tore at Tate’s heart.

  “Hey, boys,” he said in a gentle voice. “I want to talk about what happened.”

  “I’m sorry I colored on your papers,” Corey mumbled, looking down at his dog.

  “It was just you?” Tate asked.

  “I colored one corner,” Jared said from down on the floor, not looking up.

  “I want you to understand—those papers weren’t just something an architect does for fun. It’s his job. I have to study them closely to know the best way to build a house. It takes a long time for the architect to draw them, and I pay him for doing that. So when you colored on them, you messed up his work and mine.”

  Corey’s chin trembled, so Tate quickly hurried on. “But I don’t think you meant to ruin our work, did you?”

  Both boys looked up at him now and shook their heads. “We just thought it would be fun to color ’em in. We thought you might like it even,” Corey explained.

  Tate didn’t know if he could ever learn to think like a five-year-old, but he might have to try. “Okay. But let’s put it this way. If it’s something you don’t normally color on, you have to ask first, and it really would be best if you stay out of my office.”

  “Like we stay away from Mom’s computer?” Jared asked.

  “Yeah, exactly like that.” He patted the bed and said, “Come up here and sit, Jared.”

  When Jared and Corey were facing him, he told them, “I’ve never been a dad before, so I’m going to have to learn how to do this day by day. I’m probably going to make mistakes. But I want to be your father, and I want you as my sons. How does that sound to you?”

  “We need a dad,” Jared said seriously. “Are you gonna punish us for what we did?”

  “That’s a sticky one. You didn’t mean any harm, but you caused some damage. So how about if you boys help me muck out the barn on Saturday and we’ll call it even.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Tate could see Anita standing in the doorway, and he wondered how long she’d been there. But then he saw the tender look of admiration and respect in her green eyes for him.

  Right now, that meant more to him than having her in his bed.

  Chapter Eight

  On Thursday evening, Tate came home, eager to see Anita’s reaction to his surprise. Last night, after the kids were in bed, he’d gone to his room without making a pass. He’d decided he had to actively court his wife. Unsure of the best way to do that, he chose to start with what most women liked: clothes. After a few phone calls early that morning, he discovered a store in Tyler that used a personal shopper. After he’d gotten the woman on the line, the rest had been easy. By offering an extra bonus to the driver, the clothes should have been delivered that afternoon.

  But when he found Anita in the living room with the boxes open and clothes spread around—Marie sitting on the floor, playing with plastic containers, and the boys running a fire engine with sound effects across the wide room—her expression wasn’t happy but troubled.

  “Don’t they fit?” he asked, thinking maybe the problem was that he had misjudged her size.

  “They’ll fit, but I can’t accept them,” she said in a low voice. Her gaze fell on a sexy ice-blue nightgown and robe set tumbling out of the box on the hassock.

  Damn! If she thought this was simply a bribe to get her into bed…

  In a near-whisper that he had to get very close to hear, she declared, “All my life, I’ve made my own way. If you start dressing me, along with giving us food and shelter and helping me keep my kids, I don’t know if I can hold on to my self-respect.”

  Day by day, he was beginning to believe that Anita was genuine, that she didn’t have ulterior motives, that she hadn’t married him to drain his bank account. If she was an actress, she was a damn good one and he deserved to be fooled. The glistening in her eyes now told him she meant every word.

  As always, he couldn’t keep from touching her and brushing her glossy, curly hair behind her ear. “As your husband, I want to provide for you. You spend so much time taking care of me and my house. Don’t you see I want to give something back to you? Can’t you accept the clothes as a present from me?”

  “I feel a bit like Cinderella,” she said with a small smile. This time, her gaze fell on an emerald-green gown with a beaded bodice carefully folded in a box on the sofa. “All I need is a ball.”

  “Clear Springs is a little small for a ball. But how about enjoying a good band and dinner-dance at the country club this weekend? The women dress snazzy, and the men pull out their best suits. If Inez can babysit, we’ll have the whole night to ourselves, the way a husband and wife should sometimes.”

  Each day, he was going to bring something home for her: candy, flowers, some kind of trinket. Soon, she’d get the message that he truly wanted her to be his wife.

  “A night with you sounds wonderful,” she admitted a bit breathlessly.

  If she was as excited about the prospect as he was, he was making progress. Just so she was clear on what he wanted, he gave her another hint. “If all those clothes won’t fit in your closet, you can hang them in mine.”

  The pulse at her throat beat faster, her lips parted slightly and he wanted to sweep her into his arms and take her into his bed right now. But patience usually paid off.

  Unexpectedly, she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Tate. I owe you so much.”

  That kiss was affectionate and tender and as arousing as any that had happened before. He appreciated her thanks, but he didn’t want it. He wanted her.

  On Saturday night, maybe he’d get his wish.

  Tate was in the great room the following evening, encouraging Marie to walk while the twins watched
TV, the red roses he’d brought home for Anita arranged in a vase on a side table.

  When the doorbell rang, Anita threw down her dish towel, called “I’ll get it” and went to the foyer. When she opened the door, she was stunned to see the couple who stood there—Warren and Ruth Sutton.

  “I know you’re wondering why we’re here,” Warren was quick to explain, “but our lawyer informed us about your marriage and we wanted to make sure for ourselves that you had gotten married.”

  No matter what, Anita told herself, she had to be polite. She couldn’t give these people any more reason to resent her.

  “Why don’t you come in,” she invited. “We were about to have supper. Would you like to join us?”

  Before they could answer, Tate was by her side, holding Marie in his arms.

  After she introduced him to the couple, he said in a friendly way, “Anita’s told me about you. I can understand that grandparents would want to know their grand-kids.”

  Nervously switching her purse from one hand to the other, Ruth assured him, “Yes, we do. We’re thinking about dropping the custody suit. We would like to stay in Clear Springs for the weekend and spend some time with Corey, Jared and Marie, if you’re open to that.”

  Anita exchanged a look with Tate and then responded. “We’re open to that.”

  “Can you suggest a good motel?” Ruth asked.

  After a long, silent moment, Tate offered, “Why don’t you stay here with us? That’ll give us all a chance to get to know each other better.”

  Shell-shocked by Tate’s offer, Anita wondered if he was out of his mind.

  The Suttons looked surprised by his invitation, and Anita realized almost at once that he’d meant to catch them off guard. He wanted to quell their doubts, and the invitation might do just that. Maybe they wouldn’t accept—

  “Could you give my wife and me a minute to discuss this?” Warren asked.

  “No problem,” Tate said as he took Anita’s arm and tugged her toward the kitchen.

  Once inside, Anita turned to him. “What are you doing? We don’t want them in the house all weekend!” She kept her voice low, but it was filled with all the anxiety she was feeling.

  “The best way to get them on our side is to show them we are a family. If we send them to a motel, they might think we have something to hide. They can stay in the guest room, but you’re going to have to move in with me tonight.”

  She studied him to see if that was the real reason he had suggested this.

  “What?” he asked, all innocent-looking.

  “One of us is going to have to sleep somewhere other than the bed.”

  With a sigh, he said, “I have a recliner in there. I can sleep on it.”

  She didn’t know why she was resisting the pull between them with so much energy. Maybe because she was simply terrified to give herself to him completely. Once they made love, there was no turning back.

  Suddenly, she remembered something. “I’d better get the cosmetics out of my bathroom and put them in yours, as well as pick up anything else that’s lying around. Do you have any spare drawers?”

  He grinned then asked, “How many do you need?”

  “Two.”

  “No problem,” he assured her. “I have two empty ones in my chest.”

  “Because they are going to accept your offer. They’re going to want to know everything there is to know about us.”

  Slowly, in a husky voice, he said, “We don’t have anything to hide, Anita.”

  “We don’t have a real marriage yet,” she returned, tears coming to her eyes because she realized she wanted a real marriage, but not merely because that was the convenient road to take.

  “But soon we will.” He caressed her cheek. “Go move your toothbrush next to mine. I’ll keep them occupied.”

  Marie squiggled and squirmed in his arms. “Or Marie will,” he added with a wink.

  As Anita had concluded, Ruth and Warren Sutton decided to accept their offer. After an evening filled with the kids’ laughter, Marie’s toddling from chair to chair finally letting Ruth pick her up, Anita showed the Suttons to the guest room, exhausted.

  After a last check on the boys and Marie to make sure they were sleeping, she finally entered Tate’s bedroom, feeling like a stranger there.

  “Uh-oh,” she muttered. “I forgot about my clothes in the guest room closet.”

  “Maybe Ruth won’t snoop.”

  “What are the chances of that? How am I going to explain?”

  Not seeming bothered at all by the situation, Tate gave a shrug. “That’s easy. I bought you a new wardrobe and it’s in here. You can just tell her that. We’re okay, Anita. Stop worrying.”

  But she was worrying. Not only about the Suttons and her new wardrobe but also about that sexy new nightgown Tate had bought her. She had no choice but to wear it tonight.

  Then she remembered the long T-shirt he’d included with a longhorn steer imprinted on the cotton. She’d put that on.

  Along with sweaters, slacks and dresses, the personal shopper Tate had consulted had included panties and bras in gossamer fabrics. All of them were in the master suite. She hadn’t worn any of them yet. This morning, she’d dragged on her old clothes out of habit.

  Now she went to the chest, ignored the silk nightie and pulled out the T-shirt.

  “If you want to use the bathroom first, go ahead,” he offered as he sat in the recliner and held a horse magazine in his hands, acting as if she slept there every night. He seemed as if nothing about this predicament was unusual.

  “Don’t you feel awkward?” she asked him. “Don’t you mind that the Suttons are asking personal questions and poking into our lives? Or that we’re still feeling our way and don’t know if this marriage is going to take or not?”

  She had lowered her voice on that last one, even though the boys’ room and Marie’s were between the master suite and the guest bedroom.

  With resolve, Tate lowered the footrest on the recliner, stood and ambled over to her. “When I built this house, I wasn’t sure why I built something so big. Maybe because I had the money to do it. Maybe because I’d always wanted a place with horses. At least, those were the things I told myself. But deep down, I guess I dreamed of having a family. We’re taking care of the kids and living in this house together, and we’re legally married. Those people will see we’re building something here, so stop worrying so much.”

  Worrying was a trait she’d developed when she was a child and knew they couldn’t pay the rent. It was an old habit that she couldn’t just let go of because Tate suggested it. “I’ll stop worrying when they’re gone and I know they’re not still trying to fight me for my kids. I won’t be long in the bathroom,” she murmured as she slipped away from him, still battling to stand on her own two feet, still struggling to trust Tate when giving her trust had hurt her unbearably before.

  When Anita came out of the bathroom, Tate was removing pajama bottoms from a drawer. “I never wear these,” he said, “but tonight I will. Looks like that T-shirt fits you just like it should.”

  To her dismay, the cotton clung to her curves and stopped a few inches above her knees. The negligee set couldn’t have been much more revealing. Scurrying to the bed, she slipped under the covers.

  With a small smile tilting the corners of his lips, Tate disappeared into the bathroom.

  After he emerged, he was wearing the plaid pajama bottoms, the drawstring tied loosely at his navel. But he wore no shirt, and she couldn’t seem to unglue her eyes from his chest. He was magnificently built. As he came over to the bed, she thought he might kiss her or do something that would lead them into each other’s arms. But he didn’t. He simply picked up the coverlet folded at the foot of the bed and took it to the recliner, where he settled himself as if it didn’t bother him at all not to be sleeping in his bed or that she was sleeping in his bed.

  “Can you get the light?” he asked in a slightly perfunctory voice as he pulled the cover midchest a
nd reclined as far back as the chair would take him.

  Oh, she could get the light, all right. At least that way, she could stop staring at him. The only problem was, every detail of his body was branded into her memory. At least every detail of the parts she’d seen. When she thought about the parts she hadn’t seen…

  She shivered, excited yet scared…scared that if she gave her heart away, it was going to get broken.

  When Anita awoke, the bedroom was still black and she realized what had summoned her from sleep—the squeaks and crunches from Tate’s recliner as he tried to get comfortable.

  It only took her a moment of hesitation before she asked, “Tate?”

  “What?” His voice was tempered.

  “There’s no reason why you can’t sleep in this bed with me. We’re both adults.”

  The recliner squeaked again. “Are you sure about that? It’s a king-size bed and all, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with the idea.”

  “I trust you,” she said simply and knew she did—at least where this was concerned. Tate would never force her into anything she didn’t want.

  A few beats of silence ticked by. Then Tate lowered the footrest on his recliner and crossed over to the other side of the bed. He didn’t say a word—just slid in and turned away from her. A few minutes later, she heard his deep, heavy breathing and knew he was asleep. She didn’t know how she was going to sleep with his bare back merely a foot away!

  Sometime in the early hours of the morning, she and Tate came together. She didn’t know how it happened, but in the morning, his arms were around her, her cheek against his chest, and they were curled intimately together. She awoke first and lay perfectly still, not knowing what to do. She’d had a dream where he’d taken her in his arms…

  Apparently it hadn’t been a dream.

  When she untucked her hand from underneath him, he came awake. “What the heck?”

  “I guess we were cold,” she murmured, pulling away from him.

  He quickly let her go. “Yeah, I guess we must have been. I’ve got to tend to the horses,” he said, sliding his legs over the bed. “The Suttons probably won’t be up for another hour or so. I should be able to help you with the kids and breakfast, if you need it.”