Lorraine Heath (27 page)

She nodded, turning and hurrying into the house. It was
a few minutes later that she heard the horse whinny outside the door.

Stepping out onto the porch, she saw Jake sitting astride his stallion, his hat pulled down so low that she couldn’t see his eyes at all, a shadow drawn over the rest of his features.

“I gotta go check on the herd. I’ll be back late.”

She started to go to him, to receive her customary good-bye kiss, but stopped, realizing she’d probably receive no more from him. He tilted his head slightly, touching his finger to the brim of his hat, and rode away.

S
TARING
OUT
THE
bedroom window, Rebecca sat huddled in the bed, her nightgown pulled down over her drawn-up knees. She had effectively shuttered away her dreams of being with Brett, but all it had taken was seeing him in her doorway to bring back the dreams, the longing to be with him. Then Jake had offered her the opportunity to transform the dream into reality, and she’d snatched it up without even considering what it must have cost him. How could she have been so insensitive, so selfish? Why hadn’t she taken a moment to appreciate the gift wrap before discarding it for the gift?

She had been in bed two hours now, waiting for Jake to return. In the distance, she saw the lone rider, shoulders hunched, his horse plodding along slowly. After everything he had done for her, he deserved better than she’d given him. She waited half an hour before sadly realizing that he wasn’t going to come to her.

Rebecca slipped a shawl over her shoulders and went out to the barn. Pitching hay around as though his life depended on it, Jake didn’t hear her approach. He jumped away when she touched his arm.

“Made me jump out of my skin. You should be asleep.”

“I couldn’t sleep. What are you doing?”

“Trying … trying to get this barn cleaned up. Seems like I never have time anymore to do the most basic things.”

“Aren’t you going to come to bed?”

He returned to throwing hay into an empty stall. “No. I got too much energy tonight.”

She moved closer to him, resting a hand on his arm. “I know better ways to use up that energy.”

He stilled, his eyes delving into hers. “No,” he said softly.

“Why not? I’m still your wife.”

He shook his head sadly. “I never wanted it that way.”

“It was never given simply because I’m your wife. I cared about you. I still do.”

His eyes caressed her face the way his hands ached to. “I don’t know how to make sure you don’t get pregnant.”

She searched his face. “I could be pregnant now.”

“I’ve thought of that. And if you are, I was wondering if you’d mind letting me know … I won’t bother you or come for the baby unless you don’t want him … then I would … I don’t want him to grow up not feeling loved.”

“I’d want him, Jake.”

He gave a slight nod. “I wasn’t sure. But will you let me know?”

She nodded. “And you’d be welcome anytime to come see him.”

Jake shook his head. “It’d be best if I didn’t. I’d just want to know.”

She rubbed his arm. “Please come to bed. If nothing else, just hold me.”

“Let me finish up here. Won’t take me long.”

Releasing her hold on his arm, she walked slowly out of the barn. The vibration of the pitchfork hitting the ground and the hay sifting to the earth were the only sounds from within.

Gazing out the window, she watched as some time later Jake came out of the barn. He shrugged out of his shirt, and splashed the cool water over his body and through his hair. Even now, he wouldn’t come into the house smelling like he’d been outside all day. She wondered if he’d wash up when she wasn’t here; if it was just his habit or if it was something he did for her. He turned back towards the
house, and she slipped behind the quilt that still separated their bed from the rest of the house.

Sitting down on the porch, Jake stared up at the stars twinkling in the blackened sky. Silver clouds reflected the moon’s faint light. Only the barest of breezes moved around him. Horses nickered in the corral. Everything appeared the same. And tomorrow, it would probably still appear no different.

He pulled his boots off before stepping into the house in his stockinged feet. He stopped beside Jacob’s cradle, hunkering down beside the sleeping boy. Jacob was sleeping on his stomach, his knees drawn up under him so his bottom was sticking up high in the air. Looked damned uncomfortable to Jake but the boy’s face was serene and peaceful and Jake wondered what he was dreaming.

“You won’t even remember me,” he whispered to the sleeping child, “but I’ll never forget you.” He lowered his face to the small head and placed a light kiss on the dark hair.

As he stood up, he saw Rebecca peering around the quilt.

“You need to get some sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Rebecca slipped out of her gown before slipping in under the covers, watching Jake, his back to her, shed his clothes down to his underwear and then stop. When was the last time he had worn anything to bed? Lifting the covers, he got into bed in one fluid movement, lifting an arm, welcoming her into his final embrace, closing his arm around her.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” she whispered. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know. I got no regrets, Reb.” “How can you not?”

“You’ve given me enough happiness to last a lifetime.”

The ache in her heart grew until she thought she’d die from it. She began whispering his name over and over as she placed kisses lightly on his chest, his neck. Jake cupped her face in his strong hands, stilling her caresses, holding her eyes with his own.

“Don’t, Reb.”

“Please, Jake. Please. One more time. Let me say good-bye proper. The way I want to.” “I can’t, honey.”

She placed her palms on the back of his hands, entwining their fingers before pulling his hands off her cheeks. She lowered his hands to his pillow, as she lowered her lips to his, running her tongue along their fullness, feeling the formation of the lopsided smile before he groaned and surrendered. Her fingers tightened their hold, keeping his hands pinned beside his head as her mouth opened over his, the kiss deepening.

Flipping her over, Jake broke free of her hold. He shed his remaining clothes before returning his hands and lips to hers, taking his turn at holding her hands in place as his mouth covered hers, his tongue sweeping the silky inside of her mouth, slowly, seductively. If this was to be the last time, he didn’t want it rushed.

His mouth trailed down the slender column of her throat. His name was a litany released from her parted lips, softly echoed over and over as her hands strained against his, forcing him to release his hold on her.

Raking her fingers through his thick brown hair, she held him close as he ran his tongue around her erect nipple sending shivers coursing through her body before drawing the tightened tip into his mouth. His teeth closed down on it, tugging gently, and she writhed beneath him as his hands and mouth continued to assault her senses.

One last time, his hands traveled over her body. One last time, his mouth tasted her flesh. One last time, he raised himself above her and looked down on her with love. One last time, he buried himself deep within her, his hips slowly rotating, grinding his pelvis against hers. One last time, he listened to her cries of mounting pleasure and watched her back arch, bringing her slim body up against his with an effortless grace. And then he withdrew, spilling his seed into his own hand.

Rebecca’s eyes flew open as she felt the emptiness engulf her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting his eyes to hers. “But if I haven’t already given you a child, I didn’t want to do it tonight.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as she ran her fingers down his tortured face. “Oh, Jake. I am so sorry.”

Rolling over, he brought her into his arms.

“Don’t cry for me. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. For a while, I think you were happy here. But now you have a chance for more, for what you should have had to begin with.” His voice became hoarse as he pushed the words out. “I want you to have it.”

“I’m going to miss you so much, Jake.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

She didn’t try to stifle the tears, but let them flow down her face onto his chest. He said nothing as his arms tightened their hold on her. He supposed he should find comfort in the knowledge that it wasn’t easy for her to leave. But despite the tears, she was still leaving, and there was no comfort in that knowledge at all.

Whistling a catchy Irish tune, Frank sauntered into the barn, coming up short at the sight of Jake. “Why you hitching up the wagon, Jake?” Continuing his task, Jake said, “Taking Reb into town.” “On a Monday?”

“Yeah.” He stopped and without looking at Frank said quietly, “You might want to tell her good-bye.”

“She’s only going into town. Why would I want to …? She’s not coming back, is she?”

“No … she’s not.”

“Goddamn!” He yanked his hat off his head and slapped it against his leg. “It’s that Brett Meier, ain’t it? How the hell can you let her go?”

Jake spun around. “What do you want me to do, Frank? She left me as soon as his foot crossed the threshold of our house. The only hope I have of holding onto anything we had is to let her go. Otherwise, bitterness and regret will kill everything. She’ll always wonder what it would have been like if she had gone with him. She loves him, and
now he’s come for her.” His voice went low. “Do you have any idea how loud silent tears are, Frank? They can fill the room, drowning, suffocating you and your love until there’s nothing left. I love her too much not to let her go.”

Frank stomped back and forth, then spun around in frustration. “Goddamn! I think this whole thing stinks. He ain’t near as good a man as you. Why can’t she see that?”

Jake went back to hitching up the horses. “Just go tell her good-bye.”

Straightening things that had already been straightened, Rebecca heard someone coming in the open door. She turned and saw Frank openly studying her, and she felt uneasy under his perusal. He released a deep sigh, approaching her.

“Jake told me to come tell you good-bye.” He shook his head slowly, examining the floor as though he thought it might open up and stop her from going. He knew it was unmanly, but he loved Jake, and he hated to see him hurt. And he knew he was hurting. “I don’t know how you can do this to him.” His eyes shot up to hers. “He loves you more than I’ve ever seen any man love a woman, and he’s a hell of a good man. How can you not love him?”

“We can’t control our hearts, Frank. I’d think you of all people would understand that.”

“Well, I think I’d sure as hell try—”

“You’re supposed to be telling her good-bye and wishing her well, Frank,” Jake said from the doorway, irritation in his voice.

Frank looked guiltily over his shoulder and nodded before turning back to Rebecca. “Good luck, Reb.”

Her arms went around his neck as she whispered, “Take good care of him for me, Frank.”

“If you gave a damn, you wouldn’t be leaving.” He pulled free of her hug. “Bye, Reb,” he said to the floor before he stomped out.

Jake stepped in, shaking his head. “The innocence of youth. Everything appears so simple when you’re young. What all are you taking?”

“Just that bag.” She pointed to a carpet bag sitting by the door. “Seems everything else belongs here.”

Everything but you and your son, he thought. He picked up the bag. “Well, let’s go.”

After tossing the bag into the wagon, he took Jacob from her and helped her up onto the seat before returning her son to her arms. Rebecca scanned the area one last time as he flicked his wrist and set the horses in motion.

They rode along in silence for some time, Rebecca watching the passing scenery, wondering how different Montana would be, wondering how different this place would look after the years had taken their toll. How different the man beside her would be. If his hair would turn silver or white. If the wrinkles that would add character to his features in later years would be brought on by joy or sadness.

“About your cattle,” Jake said.

Abruptly brought out of her reverie, her head snapped around. “I thought I’d just leave them with you. I don’t have a need for them and they’d be so much trouble to move.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” He reached into the pocket of his shirt and with two fingers pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I had a draft drawn up at the bank. This is about what I figure the cattle would be worth if we took them to market.” He moved his hand towards her, extending the slip of paper.

“I don’t want you to pay me for the cattle. I just want you to have them.”

“I’d prefer to pay you. You don’t know what you’ll find in Montana, and I don’t want you leaving here without anything. Take the draft, and if something happens and you need the money, you have it. And if you don’t need it, you can put it in the bank for Jacob when he grows up.”

She took the bank draft from him, slipping it into her reticule. “I’ll put it in the bank for Jacob.”

He nodded and they continued the journey in silence.

In the middle of town, they pulled up in front of the square building whose shingle boasted proudly, “Doyle
Thomas, Attorney-at-Law.” The wooden door of the wooden building groaned in protest at being disturbed so early in the day as Jake pushed it open and Rebecca preceded him into the room.

Doyle Thomas looked up from his work and removed the spectacles from his nose. “Well, I know it’s bad for business, but I was hoping I wouldn’t see you this morning, Jake.”

“Have you got those papers ready for us to sign?”

“Sure have.” Doyle stood up and retrieved some papers from a drawer in a cabinet he kept in the corner of his one-room office. That drawer was the only aspect of his life to have any order to it.

He laid the papers on the desk, shuffling other papers aside until he located his pen and dipped it into a bottle of ink. “Need you both to sign in four places.” He indicated the places with his well-manicured finger.

Jake signed first and handed the pen to Rebecca. He took Jacob out of her arms. She looked from one man to the other, then leaned over, applying pressure to the pen to stop the squiggly lines from revealing her nervousness. She was ending her marriage to Jake, and all it took was her signature in four places. How simple. How complex.