Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (17 page)

Wanting to feel Jack's solid strength—a kind of assurance that nothing would ever happen to either of the babies—she moved to stand beside him and looked up at him. Jack held her gaze for a moment, then adjusted his big palm around Adam, curved his other arm around her and Marc, and pulled them against him. And Grace sensed he was finally beginning to accept the fact that Marc might be joining their family. But she didn't want Marc to be just hers. She wanted him to be every bit as much Jack's as Adam was, but that could only come from Jack.

A few minutes later the man from the lab showed up in the doorway, the same man who'd delivered the news about Adam, although his face was not that of someone bringing bad news. It wasn't exactly good either. They waited for him to speak.

He gave them a kind of half smile. "We don't have a complete HLA match," he said, "but we think we can still restore bone marrow function in your son by using a new process that's been tried with success, and that's with the use of expanded cord blood cells. There's a 64-fold increase in the number of hematopoietic cells when cord blood is expanded, so donated cells don't have to be perfectly matched to the patient."

"Wait a minute," Sam said. "You're telling us there's a chance."

The man nodded. "A typical unit of cord blood contains less than 200,000 stem cells per kilogram of body weight of the recipient, in contrast to six million cells when expanded. Using expanded cells also decreases the risk of death in the recipient because they give rise to white blood cells and other components of the blood more quickly."

"Then we'll do it," Sam said. "What do we have to sign?"

"That's another issue." They all waited. "The cost," the man said. "Because it's considered experimental, it's not covered by insurance, and the out-of-pocket cost is usually more than most families can afford."

"My brother and I will cover the cost," Jack said. "Where do we sign?"

The man placed the folder he'd been holding on the bedside stand and opened it. Removing a bundle of papers, he said, "Read the documents so you understand the risks involved, and there's a financial statement. I'll run credit checks on both of you and add your name to the financial statement," he said to Jack. "As soon as you drop the signed documents off at the lab our technicians will start preparing the blood and you can start your son on chemotherapy to get him ready for transplant," he said to Sam.

"How long until we know if it works?" Sam asked.

The man smiled. "That's the good part. On average it takes two weeks for expanded cells to begin to engraft as compared to four weeks for non-expanded units, which means less chance for infection. The survival rate's similar to bone marrow transplants."

"So, two weeks after our son's finished chemo, he could start to build new bone marrow?" Sam asked.

The man nodded. "Cord blood cells haven't specialized so they're able to become whatever cells the body needs—red cells to carry oxygen, white cells to fight disease, platelets to help blood clot. Expanded cells just give more to get the job done quicker."

"Why didn't you suggest this with the other baby?" Sam asked, glancing at Adam.

"We found no HLA match at all. Not a trace," the man said to Sam. "The fact that we found them with your son is a miracle. Somehow the father of that baby had the markers that matched. A one-in-a-million occurrence."

Grace looked at the baby in her arms. Marc's baby. His legacy. A legacy not only to Ricky, who now had a chance to lead a normal life, but to her, a little bit of Marc for her to love and care for and hopefully raise as her own.

"May I hold my baby?" Susan asked.

Grace looked at Susan who had, until now, wanted nothing to do with her newborn infant, and saw a look of possessiveness on her face. And all Grace could do was pass Marc's baby into Susan's outstretched arms.

***

Hours after they'd delivered the signed papers to the laboratory and settled into the Hilton, with both babies sleeping in hotel cribs after being nursed, Grace found herself tearing up at odd moments. She'd tried to keep it from Jack, but this time she couldn't.

"You just don't understand," she said. "Susan only wants Marc because he's of use to Ricky, but he should have been my baby from the start."

"Just like Adam should have been hers," Jack reminded her.

Which made Grace mad. "That's entirely different," she snapped. "I love Adam. He's mine too. Susan never wanted him either. He was only a means to an end, just like Marc is now." She plucked a tissue from the box beside the bed and dabbed her eyes. "You've got to talk to Sam. At least tell him we want to adopt Marc. Once they get home and Susan's focused on Ricky and Marc starts crying and demanding her time, she could hurt him. She could kill him!" Tears started flowing again.

"Honey, stop." Jack pulled Grace into his arms and held her. "There's nothing we can do right now. We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

"You said we," Grace said into Jack's broad chest. She raised her head and looked at him through a blur of tears. "Are you with me in this now?"

Jack looked at her long and hard, then crooked a finger beneath her chin, and said, "If you think you can handle both babies, yes, I'm willing to raise Marc along with Adam."

"But can you love him too?" Grace asked, her voice wavering. "Maybe not love him as much as you love Adam, since he's not your son. Well, he's actually the son of a man I once loved. But at least love him like you would an adopted son."

"Honey, if we take Marc he'll be every bit as much my son as Adam. The little guy's already getting to me." Jack looked into the crib at Marc, who was staring at Jack, as if he understood what Jack had said, which made Grace and Jack laugh in ironic acknowledgement. Then Jack carefully lifted Marc out of his crib, supporting his wobbly head with his hand, and held him against his chest, and said, while looking down at him, "Yeah, I can love him too."

All Grace could hope for now was that Susan would
not
bond with her baby. The image Maureen painted the day she talked about Lauren holding a pillow over Jack's son's face could not be dismissed, and the threat to Marc was real.

After finishing dinner, which room service delivered, Grace nursed and changed the babies, taking time to cuddle each, then placed them in their cribs. Jack sat in the middle of the king-size bed, bare-chested and wearing sweats, TV remote in his hand, flipping channels and having trouble finding something that held his attention. He didn't have a TV at his house. Their house, Grace corrected, though the reality of being married to Jack still hadn't settled in completely and wouldn't until the marriage was consummated. But whereas consummation would bring a new level of intimacy to their marriage, it wouldn't make her a wife who Jack married because he loved her. He'd married her because it was the right thing to do.

Seeing Jack's discontent, whether from boredom at being trapped in a hotel room when he was used to mountains and wide-open spaces, or because the reality of their marriage had settled in and he realized he was sole provider for a wife, a son, and the prospect of yet another son, she sat beside him on the bed, took the remote from his hand and clicked off the TV, then scooted up against him. Jack curved his arm around her, more an obligatory reaction than a voluntary one, Grace thought. Still, she rested her hand on his belly. When he said nothing, just sat staring at the blank TV, she said, "Have I been putting too much pressure on you?"

"It's the situation," Jack replied, which didn't answer her question.

That word again, though she wouldn't point it out this time. But even with Jack's arm around her, and her hand on his belly, she felt the tension between them. It started when she insisted Marc be brought to her hospital room then proceeded to nurse both babies together. Even though Jack said he could love Marc the way he loved Adam, he'd been reticent since, a reminder of the man he'd been before she moved into his house and began to build a life with him. But even then, they'd had some intimate moments, like in the hallway after her shower, and later when he came to her bedroom, and laying with her, took care of her need.

She wanted intimacy with Jack, and she knew he needed it, especially now, when he was troubled. "You have a wife," she said moving her hand over his taut belly above the waistband of his sweats, allowing her fingers to tuck inside. "You don't have to live like a monk now. I can take your mind off things. Let me do this for you."

Jack looked down at her, eyes hooded, nostrils flaring, and when he made no effort to stop her, she slipped her hand inside his sweats. Jack let out a series of low, throaty sounds that seemed to vibrate in his chest as she tried to give him the greatest pleasure she could, under the circumstances. She also knew, from his quick, explosive response, that circumcision had not deadened his senses. After his breathing settled into normalcy, she kissed him on the cheek and said, "Feel better now?"

Jack gave her a lopsided smile. "Yeah."

While Jack showered, Grace changed into her nightgown and sat with the bed covers pulled up to her waist, and her back propped against a mound of pillows, watching a movie on TV while waiting for Jack. Although it was too early to sleep, she wanted to snuggle up against him again. Nothing more. She'd had way too many people prodding and poking to want Jack to do what he'd done before. But the time would come, and when it did, she'd be ready.

Jack emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, which he dropped before slipping under the covers. "You might as well know I don't wear anything when I sleep," he said, pulling the covers around his waist.

"I can live with that," Grace replied, cozying up to him. She handed him the remote. "It's
Pretty Woman
. You can switch channels if you want." She ran her hand over his bare chest and made a meandering path down his rib cage and a circle over his belly, her hand coming to rest around a large, immovable object. "You ready again so soon?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jack said. And smiled broadly.

Grace tossed the covers back, and said, "You know everything about my anatomy, so now I intend to educate myself about the structure of a circumcised male."

Jack let out a throaty grunt. "Then you'd better get a towel or something because things are about to—"

The phone rang.

"Oh hell!" Jack said. Grabbing Grace's hand to stop what was about to happen, he dropped his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the phone.

Grace listened to the one-sided conversation.

"Yeah, Sam, what gives? He'll start it tomorrow? That's good, close by. Yes, of course we can. Now? It's pretty late. Yeah, I suppose. No, it's no problem..."

After Jack hung up, he said, "Sam rented an apartment for six weeks and Ricky starts chemo tomorrow. They want us to take Marc back with us, and I said we would."

Tears of joy filled Grace's eyes. She'd have Marc for six weeks. Six weeks for Jack to accept him as a full member of the family, and six weeks for Susan to focus all of her attention on Ricky and cut whatever fragile tie might be connecting her to Marc.

"But there's one problem," Jack said. He reached over and took her hand in his, and Grace was immediately filled with trepidation. "Susan wants us to bring Marc to her tonight. She wants to hold him for a little while, and also introduce him to Ricky."

And Grace felt like her heart had just split in two.

CHAPTER 14

Grace was so busy getting both babies ready for take-off she barely had time to worry about the flight ahead. She'd told Jack about the plane crash she'd been in years before, which both surprised and irritated him, mainly because she hadn't been open with him about it. But after she explained that she knew he'd insist on canceling the flight to New Jersey, because of her fear of flying, and that she'd figured it was Ricky's only hope, he let it be. But now, her anxiety over flying was neutralized some by her anticipation about just being back home. They were also in first class, so there was more room, and Jack was just across the aisle.

"You okay?" Jack asked, looking across the aisle at her as the big jet whined before making its run for the sky.

Grace glanced at Adam in the window seat beside her, strapped into his backwards-facing infant carrier, then at Marc, on the other side of Jack, and said, "I'll be fine when we're home and have our boys tucked into their cribs in their room, where they belong."

Jack looked askance at her, and said, "Susan gave no indication she plans to give Marc up. It was just the opposite."

Grace said nothing. She refused to believe Susan would take Marc back, though seeing her with him the night before was troubling. Susan held him for the longest time, looking at him, that Grace had to resist the urge to take him from her, claiming she was exhausted, and leave the hospital so Marc would be out of sight, out of mind. Thankfully, Ricky had been out of the room for tests and never saw his little brother. But in the hallway, as they were leaving, Sam came out of the room and told them he'd suggested to Susan earlier that they not say anything to Ricky about having a little brother for the moment, and Susan agreed. So Grace knew Sam was considering the possibility that Ricky might not be raised with a sibling.

"Honey, you can't keep avoiding the issue," Jack said, refusing to let Grace stay in her dream world. "For the next six weeks we're taking care of our nephew, not our son."

"I refuse to take your negative position," Grace said. "Susan
will
give us Marc, and he'll be raised with Adam. Call it mother's intuition or whatever you want, but that's the way it will be."

Jack folded his arms, seeming to have dropped the issue, though his face was rigid. Grace tried to set it all aside by concentrating on how it would be with two babies crawling around the floor. And two kittens running around the house. And later, they'd get each boy his own pony.

"Jack," she said across the aisle, where he was sitting with his arms still folded, and his mouth in a disgruntled slash. "Please let me dream a little while. Don't spoil it for me."

Jack heaved a very long sigh, and said, "As long as you don't lose touch with reality." The dark look of worry on his face said it all.

"Just because I want to hope doesn't mean I'm losing touch with reality," Grace said. "I do know the difference." She could feel the tension growing again. After returning from the hospital they'd had one night as husband and wife, mostly her becoming more intimately acquainted with Jack's body, while Jack confined his caresses to her overlarge, milk-filled breasts, relieving her of an ounce or two in a very stimulating way, making her eager to consummate the marriage before long. But that was last night. Things were different in the morning.

Jack got out of bed when the babies started fussing, and brought them to her for nursing, even helped bathe and diaper them afterwards. But he'd made no reference to the intimacies they'd shared, and she knew he too had been restless during the night, mulling over Susan's reaction to the baby, just as she had, but in a different way. Jack still viewed Marc as a nephew he could grow to love as a son if it came to that. She viewed Marc as a son she was in danger of losing, and until she knew what Susan would do, that's the way it would be.

***

Maureen met them at the airport, and when they arrived at the house, Grace was surprised to find that Maureen and Flo had moved the nursery furniture from Sam and Susan's house and set it up, along with Adam's furniture, so the nursery contained two dressers, two changing tables, and two cribs, each prepared with new crib-sized sheets and large wetting pads. Maureen already knew what Grace had only just learned. Boys piddled all the time, especially boys who managed to empty two large breasts several times a day.

As soon as Grace finished nursing both babies at the same time, Maureen helped bathe and diaper them, and they put them in their cribs. Afterwards, while Grace and Maureen sat in the chairs facing the fire while waiting for Jack to return from checking on the horses, Maureen said, "Jack's happier than I've seen him in years. He's pleased you're breastfeeding. Lauren refused to, and it wasn't because she didn't have milk. When the nurse brought the baby to her she said she wanted the baby on formula and for the doctor to give her something to dry her up. Jack was furious, walked out of the room. I was there, and knowing how obsessive Lauren was over Jack I thought she'd change her mind, but she didn't. After that, Jack gave Jackie his bottle most of the time. There was no question which parent bonded with the baby."

"I love nursing the boys," Grace said, "and I love having Jack with me when I do because he looks so pleased. It makes me feel like at least I can do that for him, be the best mother I can be for his son. I know it means a lot to him."

Maureen patted her hand. "Honey, you have no idea how much it means to him. Jack's a born father, and husband. He's been my nester since he was a little boy. I think all he ever wanted was to run this ranch and have a home and a wife and a bunch of kids. Sam, on the other hand, was okay going along with Susan and not having kids. Then everything changed. Ricky's their focus now."

"But not Marc," Grace reminded Maureen. "At least not until last night."

"Jack told me. He's pretty troubled," Maureen said. "He knows you're attached to the baby, and he's worried about what might happen if Susan takes him back."

"I'm having trouble dealing with Jack's paranoia," Grace said. "I'm not Lauren and I'm not Susan and I will never harm my babies. Jack and my boys are the focus of my life. I can't imagine not having any of them now, but if Susan took Marc back it wouldn't send me over the edge. I'd have this hollowness inside for the rest of my life, but I'd cope and go on because I'd still have Jack and Adam. "

"I know," Maureen said. "Jack will eventually come around because he loves you."

Grace said nothing because she knew that although Jack loved her some, he didn't love her the way she wanted him to. But she was working on that. Jack was a nester, as Maureen said, and she intended to feather his nest and make it so soft he'd want to return to it every night of his life, and stay every morning so she could prove to him, over and over, for years to come, that there was no place like home in their feathery nest bed.

The front door swept open and Jack came in, hair mussed, face flushed, fleece-lined parka open to reveal a worn shirt, faded jeans, chaps, boots and spurs. Her man. A real man. The kind that kept her heart fluttering. She couldn't imagine a day would come when she wouldn't feel that way. His presence seemed to fill the room. It certainly filled her heart. Oddly, her breasts began to tingle, like they did when the boys cried, and all she was doing was looking at her husband.

He smiled. "Are the boys asleep?"

She nodded. "Out like lights."

"They ate well?"

"Like a couple of calves."

"Good." He looked at his mother. "We're fine here now, Mom. Grace seems to have everything under control." He winked at Grace, giving her the impression he wanted to be alone with her. It would be their first night together in their home as husband and wife.

"I'll be at the lodge if you need me then," Maureen said. "You'll be okay for the middle-of-the-night feeding, Grace? I can stay if you want."

"I can handle things, Mom," Jack said.

"Yes, son, I believe you can," Maureen replied, then hugged Grace and Jack, and left.

While Jack was in the shower, and Grace was in her bedroom changing into her nightgown, the phone rang, and she was surprised to find Justine on the other end, and even more surprised when Justine announced she'd be driving down from Seattle the following week to see the baby. Grace didn't fool herself into thinking Justine was interested in seeing her new nephew. She wanted to check out her brother-in-law. Part of Grace was excited about seeing the expression on Justine's face when she saw Jack for the first time. Another part was apprehensive. She always felt plain in Justine's presence, and Jack couldn't help but notice the contrast between the sisters.

Grace grew up watching the stares of friends and relatives, and even strangers, and hearing their comments...

The little one's cute, but that older one's absolutely gorgeous.

The older one should be a model or go into acting.

She just has that natural beauty.

But Justine didn't have big boobs! And Jack liked big boobs.

Grace also gave birth to Jack's son. Justine could never top that.

Still, Grace wished she were prettier, if only for Jack. Her nose was straight, and her eyes nicely spaced, and her mouth of a regular size, and her chin pointed, but not too pointed, but put together, her face was the kind of face no one could describe. Women like Lauren and Justine were described by some as exotic, others as stunning, or striking, but there was no way anyone could look at either of those two and see ordinary.

Grace also wished Jack loved her more, the kind of love men lay down their lives for. In spite of what Maureen said about how angry Jack was when Lauren refused to nurse their son, Grace couldn't set aside the look on Jack's face when he saw Lauren for the first time in three years. Even after she'd killed their son, Jack had been stunned by the sight of her.

"You'd better get some sleep so you'll be ready for the boys when they want to be fed in the middle of the night," Jack said, emerging from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. She thought he might take her in his arms then, while she stood in the doorway to her bedroom, but he walked past her and headed down the hallway toward the living room.

"Where?" Grace called after him, not exactly sure what she was asking. Well, sure, but the question came out wrong.

Jack stopped at the end of the hallway and glanced back at her. "Where what?"

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" she asked, feeling odd to be asking that after what happened at the hotel the night before, but uncertain. All of her things were in her bedroom, and Jack had never said anything about her sleeping with him once they were home.

"Okay, honey," Jack said, walking up to her. "What's this all about?" He reached down and took her hands and put them around his neck and slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her and waited for her to say what she had to say.

"It's just that... I know you
kind
of love me—"

"What do you mean
I kind of love you
?"

"We both know why we got married," Grace said, "but I know it will take time for fondness to grow into something more."

"Is that all you feel for me, Grace? Fondness?"

"Of course not," Grace said, "but we're not talking about me. We're talking about you."

"Honey, you're the mother of my son, you've made this house into a home, you make me happy, and I want to take care of you and Adam, and Marc if he becomes ours."

"I know all that," Grace said. "But that's part of the problem. You love me the way a man loves a woman who's good to his child, but I want you to love me the way a man loves a wife. The way I love you. For three years after Marc died I thought about nothing but him. Every moment of every day he was on my mind, almost as if his presence was around me, but when I met you things started to change. A day would go by when I didn't think about Marc at all. Then a couple more days. And then one day I realized I hadn't thought about him for a week. And now my thoughts of you are constant, the things you say, the way you look, how you sometimes make me mad, but mostly how you make me happy. I loved Marc, but he's in my past and I just want you."

"Can we get in bed and talk about this?" Jack asked.

"Your bed?"

"No," Jack said. "Our bed. Where we'll be making all those babies you want."

"That's another thing. Do you really want that many?" Grace asked. "Six children are a lot of kids to raise."

"Honey, if you want six I can handle six. I could use some help around this place." Jack took her by the hand and led her into their bedroom, then slipped off the towel and tossed it aside.               "And this has to go," he said to Grace, reaching for her gown.             

"No! Not yet," Grace said. "I'm still wearing a pad and my stomach's stretched, and I don't want you to see me. In a few months I'll have my figure back and it'll be different."

"Honey, you just had my son, of course your stomach's stretched, and I don't care about the pad. I want us to be flesh-to-flesh when we talk about whatever's bothering you. Now raise your arms and let's get this thing off."

After they were nestled in bed, Jack on his back with his arm around Grace, she snuggled up against his side with her hand on his belly, and after they'd talked about the boys, and even broached the subject of Susan with Marc the previous night, Grace became quiet, not knowing how to tell Jack what was really bothering her.