Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (6 page)

Deciding to try her new wheels, Grace motored into the bedroom and returned with a small bowl of cat chow and one of Mei Ling's beds, which she set by the fire in an effort to get Mei Ling down and figure out a way to return her to the bedroom before Flo noticed. It wasn't long before the big gray cat left her perch on the mantle to check out the chow, and after that, she curled up in the cat bed. Deciding she could do nothing until Jack came in, Grace angled the wheelchair, blocking any view of Mei Ling in her bed from the direction of the kitchen, then pulled out the book on knitting that she'd tucked in beside her, and started reading.

After a while, the sound of the softly hissing fire and the quiet burrs of Mei Ling purring in her bed made Grace drowsy, and before long, she drifted off…

Some time later, Grace awakened feeling something on her belly. She opened her eyes to find a boy, about three, staring at her. From his features, he could be Jack's son, though she knew it was Ricky. As she looked at the silent boy, she could imagine the face of the child growing inside her. a very appealing face, with the biggest, blackest eyes she'd ever seen, a perfect button nose, lips with a slight droop, and a crop of dark wavy hair, like Jack's.

His small hand patted her tummy, as he said, "My baby."

The two words uttered by this small boy gave Grace a start. Did he know she was carrying a baby that could make him well? But surely no one told him such a thing. She took his hand in hers, and said, "This is my baby, but you'll be getting a baby brother soon. He's growing inside your Mommy." She immediately wanted to retract her words. If Susan didn't want to keep Marc's baby after he was born, Ricky would never understand what happened to him. Or worse, if Susan decided to abort the baby. She was a very troubled woman, and there was no question, the mother-child bond severed when she learned she wasn't carrying Jack's child.

The boy snatched his hand away and patted her tummy again. "No, my baby," he insisted.

As if sensing a need to intervene, Mei Ling left her bed and started rubbing up against Ricky, who smiled. It was the same endearing smile she'd seen on Jack's lips when he'd stood in the doorway watching her knitting the ridiculous heelless sock. Ricky seemed baffled as to what he should do, with a cat doing figure-eights against him, so he stood with his arms raised, and his head following Mei Ling's to-and-fro movements. Then Mei Ling flopped onto her back with her feet up, and Ricky let out a giggle and sat down beside her.

Grace looked around, wondering where Ricky's parents were, when she heard Flo calling, "Ricky? Where are you?" before entering the room.

Ricky removed his hand from Mei Ling and waited for Flo to come to him.

Flo looked down at Mei Ling, who immediately rolled onto her feet and went to do her figure-eight thing between Flo's legs.

"I'm sorry," Grace said. "Mei Ling slipped out of my room when the men came with the wheelchair. I'll take her back."

She started to rise, but Flo put her hand on her shoulder. "You're not supposed to walk," she said. "I'll figure out a way to get her back." She went to the kitchen and came back with a broom.

"No, please," Grace said, horrified that the woman would take a broom to Mei Ling. "She's pregnant and mustn't be traumatized."

Flo stared at Grace as if she were mad. "Well, she can't be loose in the lodge. I'll call Jack." She rushed through the front door of the lodge, and a moment later, Grace heard the rapid gongs of a big brass bell outside the door. "Jack can deal with this," she said, on returning to the room. She looked at Ricky, who was rubbing Mei Ling's tummy. "I guess he's okay until Jack comes."

"Where is Susan?" Grace asked.

"Sam took her to the doctor," Flo replied. "She was crying and carrying on again this morning, and Sam wants the doctor to give her something to calm her down. This baby mix-up is a mess. but I guess I don't have to tell you that, with you carrying Jack's baby and not even knowing him. It must be pretty upsetting."

Grace put her hands on her belly. "It was at first," she said, "but I'm slowly adjusting. Jack's an interesting man. and he's happy about having a son."

"There's no question about that," Flo replied. "It'll be good for him, having a boy around. He's a lonely man." She gripped the broom and turned away. "Yell if Ricky's any trouble," she said, her words trailing off as she headed towards the kitchen.

Grace pondered Flo's words. Why was Jack lonely? He was handsome, eligible, well-off. And caring. Finding a wife should not be a problem. But he showed no sign of wanting to fill his loneliness with anything but a son.

She glanced at Ricky, who was giggling as Mei Ling turned round and round in circles in preparation for lying down. While Ricky sat petting Mei Ling, Grace motored to one of the front windows. Outside was a sitting area with rustic lawn chairs and a couple of wooden tables, all covered in snow. A double-wide wooden swing, also covered in snow, hung by chains from an oak tree, and an assortment of bird and squirrel feeders, filled with seed, were arranged near the sitting area. But in the distance beyond the stable, she saw Jack galloping toward the lodge at what looked to be a full run. Moments later, he brought the horse to an abrupt halt and dismounted, dropping the reins to the ground. The horse stayed put while Jack rushed toward the lodge and burst through the front door.

"Flo! What's the problem?" he called out in a frantic voice. Then he caught sight of Grace in the wheelchair. He looked at her, baffled. "You okay?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Flo rang the bell."

Grace couldn't help noticing Jack's chaps. With the leather side panels covering his hips, and the leg leathers snapped around the top of his thighs, and a leather strap cinched low on his belly, all that showed of his jeans was his crotch, which was noticeably displayed, as if framed by surrounding leather. "They're designed for easy access when nature calls," Jack said, catching the focus of her attention.

"Actually, I was looking at your belt buckle," Grace said, while adjusting her gaze upward. "It has a bull on it."

Jack smiled in a way that told her he was on to her, and said, "I got it at the National Finals Rodeo."

"They you really are a bull rider," Grace said, remembering her thoughts when she'd first saw Jack at the fertility clinic. She'd only been speculating at the time.

Jack looked at her oddly, and replied, "I used to be. This was my last ride. I decided to quit while I was ahead."

"Then you did okay?" Grace asked.

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, I did okay." He looked at Mei Ling, curled in the cat bed by the fire, purring contentedly while Ricky stroked her, and said, "What's Mei Ling doing in here?"

"She got bored in the bedroom and decided to look over the place," Grace replied, realizing it was the first time Jack referred to Mei Ling by her name instead of
the cat
. She had no idea why it pleased her so, but it did.

"She has to go back to the bedroom," Jack said. "That's why Flo rang the bell, and the last thing I need is her packing up and leaving."

"Fine then. Pick her up and take her to the bedroom."

"Right." When Jack crouched to pick up Mei Ling, Ricky shoved his hand away, and said, "My cat. You go."

"Oh shit," Jack said. He stood, and with his hands on his hips, looked down at Ricky and Mei Ling as if he hadn't a clue what to do next.

"Shit," Ricky repeated, looking up at Jack.

"No. you're not supposed to say that." Jack clamped his jaws shut and looked at Grace, who shrugged, and said, "Mei Ling's happy with her bed by the fire, and if you put her sky room by the front window she won't roam around the place, at least not much. She has no fleas, and she uses her scratching posts, and she likes sitting on the mantle."

Jack looked down at Ricky, who continued to pet Mei Ling, and said, "I'll talk to Flo."

"Thank you," Grace replied. "You'll make a little boy very happy, as well as the mother of your son."

That seemed to catch Jack's attention. "Then you're resigned to it?"

"I have no choice," Grace said. "It's fairly obvious you're his father since the baby I'm carrying is the size of a young Titan." She smiled.

Jack didn't smile back. "That's not what I meant. I'm talking about you allowing the petition I filed to go unchallenged so I'll get my paternity rights and joint custody."

Grace looked at Jack, whose face was dead sober, and said, "If I give you joint custody you'll have him half the time and he'll be constantly moved back and forth between my place and yours. I'm not sure I can live with that."

"You're not getting him all to yourself," Jack said. "That's not an option. I'll fight you to the bitter end to get the right to have my son half the time. He's going to learn to ride a horse and shoot a rifle and run this ranch so someday it will be half his."

"That's what terrifies me about letting you have joint custody," Grace said. "You're already planning his life. What if he doesn't want to run this ranch? What if he wants to live in the city? Or be a businessman? You're so set in your ways, your ways being the only ways, he won't have any choice but to do what you lay out for him. You're not a man a boy would challenge, at least not until he's as big as you, and even then he'll more than likely avoid it. I want our son to grow up to be a decent, morally upstanding man, but to be able to choose his own goals in life. It's not just about him being Jack Hansen Junior."

Jack stared at her, the look on his face grim. Then he swallowed hard, and said, "He'll never be Jack Hansen Junior, but I will have joint custody."

Grace glared at Jack. "Yes, I suppose you will," she clipped, "because I don’t have the money or the fight in me to go up against you." She turned the wheelchair and motored into the bedroom, slamming the door. There was no way she could stop Jack from getting joint custody because he'd fight as long as it took to succeed. He had the money, the resolve, and the determination to do it, and she felt exhausted just thinking about trying to stop him.

The cross-stitching on the bedstand caught her eye. She'd placed it there when the men arrived with the wheelchair. She'd already stitched the building blocks and alphabet letters, but when she came to the line for the name, the name Marc was out. She wasn't carrying a Marc. She was carrying a Jack. She'd even stitched a "J" in anticipation of telling Jack she thought they should name their child after him since Jack would be the one welcoming his son into the world. But Jack made it clear, for whatever reason, that his child would not be named after him. But when she tried to think of another name for an overly large baby, who doggedly remained lying on her bladder, and whose big baby foot was determined to kick her navel out, the only name that seemed to fit was Jack.

CHAPTER 5

The rest of the week was a flurry of activity at the lodge. Sam and Jack were doing some work on their mother's house, which included installing new kitchen cabinets and adding a sunroom off the kitchen, which wouldn't be completed for another couple of months because the snow had slowed things down, and since Grace was in the room Maureen Hansen would have stayed in, Flo and Carlie, one of the kitchen help during the guest season, spent the week making ready a bedroom down the hallway from Grace, which had become a catchall over time. When Grace suggested to Jack that she return home, he was totally against it, claiming they'd have a room ready for his mother by the end of the week, so Grace set the idea aside for the moment.

Grace tried to imagine what the woman who'd raised two such opposite twins would be like. If she was like Sam, she'd be adaptable and reasonable. But if she was like Jack, she could be difficult. Grace hadn't brought up the subject of returning to her house at the end of the week because Jack had been busy, but she would, before the day was done.

Jack had been working horses or doing maintenance on the ranch until late each day, but he stopped in at night to visit for a few minutes. During that time, Grace found herself chattering about her family, and her childhood, and every milestone in her life, but after Jack left each night, she realized he'd deflected any questions she'd asked about his personal life. He'd talked about growing up on the ranch, and about losing his father in a car accident when his car skid on an icy road and hit a tree, five years before, but after almost two weeks, Grace still had no idea why, at age thirty-three, Jack wasn't married, and he'd made it clear the subject wasn't open for discussion. But today was Sunday, Flo and Carlie were gone, and after having no contractions for over a week, Grace had her fill of sitting in bed or motoring around the lodge in the wheelchair. The snow had melted off the sidewalks, the day was sunny, and she'd never seen Jack's house.

After changing into her maternity sweats and a flannel top, she put on her down jacket and left through the front door of the lodge. She followed a concrete walkway that took her to Jack's house, which was a short distance from the lodge and directly across a gravel drive from Sam's house. Like Sam's house, Jack's was made of logs, but unlike Sam's, with its curtained windows and planter boxes and nice porch furniture, Jack's house showed no sign of a woman's touch. The windows were bare of curtains, and on the porch, beside a scuffed toolbox, were a couple pairs of boots that had been kicked off near the front door. She knocked, and when there was no response, she cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the window at a stark room with sparse furnishings, and saw a house both cheerless, and gloomy.

It'll be good for him, having a boy around. He's a lonely man.

But why? Grace wondered, and made a promise to herself to find out.

Hearing nothing inside, she followed the wrap-around porch to the back of the house and saw, a little distance from the house, Jack crouched inside an area enclosed by an iron picket fence, which appeared from where she stood to be a private cemetery. Jack's father would be buried there. She didn't call to Jack, but waited. After a few more minutes, he stood and let himself out through a small iron gate, then started toward the house. She had a few seconds to watch before he looked up and saw her. His face was sad, and she was tempted to ask what was wrong. Then the sadness turned to concern as he approached, and said, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Grace replied, "I was shack happy and had to get out."

"Go back to the lodge," Jack said, while stepping onto the porch. "I'll come fix you lunch."

"I want to see your house," Grace replied, as she headed for front of the house.

"Not now. It's a mess," Jack replied.

"I know," Grace said. "I looked in the window, but I want to see how the father of my unborn son lives."

"It'll be different when he's here."

"I'm sure it will be, but I'd like to get an idea of what it's like now," Grace said, moving to stand at the front door.

"Just don't form any opinions," Jack said, then opened the front door for her to enter.

As she stood looking around, Grace felt the sting of tears. The place was barren, devoid of warmth. And love. She had an urge to spend the day scrubbing floors and arranging furniture.

"It's just a place to hang my hat," Jack said, as if in apology.

"It's also where you plan to house our son when he stays with you," Grace pointed out. "You can't bring a baby here, Jack. It's unsanitary. It doesn't look like you've cleaned in months."

"Look, I'll get the place cleaned in time," Jack said. "I've been busy. I'll be hiring a cleaning woman to come in once a week. One bedroom's already a nursery."

Grace eyed him with uncertainty. "I want to see it." Judging from the rest of the house, she couldn't imagine a room suitable for a baby.

"It's just baby furniture right now," Jack said.

Grace followed Jack down a hallway to a bedroom. Although bare of curtains, the room contained a crib, a changing table, a small dresser, a rocker, and a low stool. The furniture looked used, so she assumed Jack picked it up at a garage sale. "It's okay but you need to sponge it all off with disinfectant before you bring the baby here," she said, finding it odd that Jack hadn't bought new furniture, obsessive as he was about his unborn son.

"It'll be ready by the time he's here," Jack replied.

Grace sat in the rocker, and said, while rocking slowly, "You'll have to hire someone to look after him when he's here. You can't do it and run the ranch and I doubt Flo would be up to looking after a newborn."

Jack stood watching her, an odd expression on his face she didn't try to make sense of. Jack was a complex man. Trying to interpret his state of mind from his facial expressions would defy the best psychologist. "You do intend to hire someone, don't you?" she asked, when he didn't reply.

"I've got it worked out," Jack said. "We'll sell your house and I'll build you one here, and our son—"

"He needs a name," Grace cut in. "We can't keep calling him our son, or the boy, or the baby. I don't think of him as Marc anymore, and you don't want to name him after you, for whatever reason, even though I think Jack junior would be nice."

"I'll pick up a book of names," Jack said. "For now, I'll clean the back bedroom and move you in there. That way you'll be here when you go into labor, and after he's born, I can help you when he wakes at night to be fed."

Grace eyed Jack with irritation. "And after my house is built? Do you plan to install an intercom so you can come whenever I call?" she said, with an edge of sarcasm. But she was at wits end with Jack constantly micromanaging her life.

"I already planned to do that," Jack said.

"You just don't get it," Grace said, in a voice she hoped he'd take to heart. "I like my house. I spent hours fixing up the nursery, I have friends nearby, and I have a job."

"You won't need a job here," Jack insisted. "All you have to do is take care of our son. I'd see that the two of you have everything you need."

"What if I decide to get married again?" Grace said. "Would I be able to bring my new husband out here to live?"

It was the space of several heartbeats before Jack said, simply, "I don't know."

"Well, I do know," Grace said. "I lost a man I loved, but I don't plan to spend my life alone. I want a husband and children, and that won't happen if I'm stuck out here."

"You can move here for now," Jack replied. "Maybe later things will be different."

"I'm not going to move in with you," Grace said. "Because of our circumstances, you've been privy to things only a husband should be involved with. I also agreed to let you be present during the delivery, but we're not married, and I won't stay here with you, even if we'd be in separate bedrooms."

When Jack offered nothing more, Grace said, "One more week, then I'm moving back to my house. There's nothing for me here." She pushed out of the rocker and started down the hallway.

Jack caught up with her and took her by the arm. "There's a lot you don't know, things that happened. Maybe after the baby's born we can talk. But for now, I want to have you nearby when you go into labor." His eyes fixed on hers, then dropped to her lips. To her shock, he bent down and kissed her, and she lifted her chin and kissed him back. But the kiss was short. "Sorry. That shouldn't have happened," Jack said. "I'll carry you back to the lodge."

As he lifted her in his arms, Grace slipped her hands around his neck, and as she did, she felt a little frisson of awareness that the man who was holding her was not only becoming a constant in her life, he was slowly burrowing into her heart. But for the life of her she still couldn't figure out why she was drawn to a man who was determined to direct her life, even if he didn't intend to be a part of it beyond helping her raise their son.

***

On the morning that Jack's mother was to return, Sam was supposed to pick her up at the airport so Jack could finish some roof work on one of the outbuildings, but Susan had another emotional outburst, so Sam stayed at their house with her, while Jack made the airport run. Ricky was turned over to Flo to watch, but since Flo was busy getting the bedroom suite ready for Jack's mother, Grace offered to look after the toddler in her bedroom.

Other than feeling like she was pregnant with a twenty-pound child who was the size of a large watermelon, Grace felt good. All signs of premature labor had passed, and when Jack took her to her weekly exam the previous day, Dorrie announced that everything was back on track. Everything with her pregnancy was on track, that is. Her personal life was troubling, at best.

Four days after that short sweet kiss she couldn't set it aside. She'd done nothing to encourage it. But all the while Jack was talking about wanting her to live in his house she'd felt like wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. Maybe he'd unconsciously sensed. It came to her that, after knowing Jack for three weeks, she wanted a certain level of intimacy with him, some hugs, a few kisses, and maybe a little playful bantering as it had been with Marc. But Jack was a serious man. For him, it was all about what was best for his unborn son.

Then there were those moments when Jack got an appealing little smile, which made her wonder if he'd always been so serious. And sad. There was definitely a sadness about him, like a clown after the circus was over and there was nothing more to laugh about. She wanted to give Jack something to laugh about but didn't know how, because she didn't know why he was sad, and she couldn't ask.

There's a lot you don't know, things that happened...

Ricky stirred beside her in bed. She'd been letting him flip the pages of a picture book when he fell asleep. "Hi, sleepyhead," she said, when he opened his big black eyes and looked up at her. He smiled, and Grace felt her heart melt. That same smile Jack got at odd times. "Shall we go find Mei Ling and see how she is?" she asked.

Ricky sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Mei Ling have kitties?"

"Not yet, sweetie, but she'll be having them soon. They'll be very tiny, and we won't be able to play with them for a while, but they'll be fun to watch."

Ricky put his hand on Grace's belly. "Baby brudder here?" he asked.

"No, baby brother's in your mommy's tummy," Grace replied, suppressing the urge to tell Ricky that the baby in his mother's tummy might ultimately be his cousin instead of his brother. Susan planted the seed, and now, all Grace could think of was adopting Marc's baby. It was possible. Susan showed every sign of preparing to give him up at birth, and Grace was prepared to take him, although she wasn't sure how she'd handle two newborns. She could ask her mother to come for a couple of weeks, but she'd hear no end to what a mistake she'd made, and now she was having the baby of a cowboy, and if she'd gone to college like they'd wanted instead of getting pregnant by a dead man, none of this would have happened.

Ricky slid off the bed and went over to pet Mei Ling, who had returned to her cat bed on the floor beside the bed. She'd been restless all day, snooping around, crawling under the bed, going into the bathroom, scratching the door to the closet to get in, then going into her bed and round and round in circles before settling down, only to repeat the whole pattern of behavior, and Grace knew she was getting ready to have her kittens.

Nesting it was called. She'd read about how females of all species, including humans, had an instinct to prepare a place to give birth. For house cats it was finding a dark, quiet corner, away from activity. For women, it was cleaning the house. They'd laughed about it at birthing class, hearing stories of women, nine months and counting, mopping and vacuuming and going at their housework like a ball of fire.

For the next hour, she kept Ricky in her bedroom. He was a quiet toddler, seeming happy arranging the little plastic animals he'd dumped out of a small bucket that Flo had given her. But it wasn't long before Ricky stopped what he was doing and looked up. His face was pale, as if all the blood had drained from it, and his eyelids drooped. He also placed his hands to his cheeks, as if holding up his head. Grace patted the bed. "Come sit next to me, sweetie. I'll read to you."

Ricky climbed on the bed and cuddled against Grace and placed his arm over her belly, and she wondered if he instinctively wanted to be close to the child who could make him well. It was a troubling thought, the child inside her being the difference between life and death for the child pressing against her, and who seemed especially warm. She put her hand to Ricky's forehead. Definitely warm. Ricky raised those big black eyes to meet her gaze and smiled his sweet little smile. Jack's sweet smile. Again she was reminded of the child growing inside her. A child she hoped would look like this engaging little boy.