Practically Married Page 4

  Ladybird wandered back over. She let out a playful snort and nudged Zach in the shoulder. He turned around and petted her some more, whispering to her softly, thinking that, from a practical standpoint, Tess DeMarley was exactly the wife he wanted. He’d look the rest of his life before he found another who suited his needs so well. And Jobeth. That kid was something. He wanted the chance to raise her to be the rancher she was meant to be.

  Zach gave his horse a final pat and turned for the house.

  He just had to stay practical about this, that was all. He didn’t have to go and make a big deal out of some feeling that Tess was never going to act on, anyway. Maybe, in time, what she felt for Cash would fade by itself. Meanwhile, she could keep her little secret, and they could still have a good life.

  They just had to take time. Take it slow.

  Yes, she did appeal to him as a woman.

  But he wasn’t some breeding bull driven by urges he couldn’t control. He’d been a virgin when he married his ex-wife, Leila, and except for that tough time right after she walked out on him, when he was looking for any way to dull the pain she’d left behind, he’d kept his equipment inside his pants. Unlike Cash, who’d been a real ladies’ man, and Nate, who’d been just plain wild, Zach’s sexual experience was pretty limited. He supposed he was old-fashioned. He felt that there were some things a man only ought to do with his wife. And that those things should not be taken lightly.

  Zach’s dog, Reggie, was waiting by the back door for him. Zach bent long enough to give him a scratch behind the ear and then went ahead and let him in to sleep on the back porch.

  By the time he headed up the stairs, he knew what he would do. He would marry Tess on Saturday, just as they’d planned. And then he would give them both a little time to discover how close they really wanted their marriage to be.

  “Great food, good music and fine company,” Carmen Amestoy told Tess that Saturday evening, three hours after Tess and Zach had exchanged their wedding vows. The older woman talked with her usual animation as she balanced an overflowing plate on her plump knees. “Did you change your mind and decide to go on a honeymoon after all? Never mind, forget it. I can see by your face that you didn’t.” She popped an olive into her mouth and gave Tess’s sleeve a pat. “You look lovely, honey. A beautiful bride—for the second time around. The dress is just right. Are you happy? I know you are. My loss is Zach’s grain....”

  Angie Iberlin appeared at Tess’s shoulder. “Mrs. Bravo, your husband wants you. In the office.”

  It took Tess a moment to realize that “Mrs. Bravo” was herself. “Oh. Certainly.” She smiled at the housekeeper. “Thank you, Angie.” She turned to Carmen, who was already hard at work on that full plate. “Excuse me.”

  Carmen waved a plump hand and dug into her thick slice of Rising Sun prime rib.

  Zach’s office was on the first floor, off the dining room. Tess hurried there, slipping inside to find him at the big cherrywood desk, talking on the phone. He signaled her over, then put the mouthpiece under his chin.

  “My folks,” he whispered.

  Tess herself had no family left to speak of. Her dad had died four years ago, and her mom had passed on just the previous December. But Zach’s parents, Elaine and Austin, were still alive and well and living in New York City. They hadn’t been able to get away on such short notice.

  “It’s nice of them to call,” she said.

  He held out the phone, his palm over the mouthpiece. “Tell them how much you wish they were here.”

  She took the phone and spoke with Zach’s mother and then with his father. Each said how much they regretted not being there and how they wanted to meet her and would try to get out for a visit sometime soon.

  “Thank you,” Tess replied. “We’d love to see you—anytime.” She said goodbye and hung up.

  The phone started ringing again the second the handset hit the cradle.

  It was one of Zach’s two sisters, the one who lived in Philadelphia. She said the same things his parents had said, to Tess first and then to Zach.

  When they hung up, he turned to her. “Let’s dance.”

  She put her hand in his and he led her out through the dining room to the great room, where the big rug had been rolled back and the furniture pushed close to the walls. The three-piece band the caterer had brought was playing “It’s Just a Matter of Time.” Zach took her in his arms and they moved out on the floor.

  A half an hour later, Zach’s other sister called. Zach and Tess trooped back into the office to be congratulated some more. The second sister lived in some place called SoHo. Tess made polite noises and listened to the very East Coast sounding voice and wondered how in the world a cattleman like Zach could have come out of such a family.

  Edna had told Tess months ago, “Zach’s daddy, Austin, only wanted one thing from life—to get out of Wyoming and find someplace civilized. Zach was born in New York City. But then Austin made the mistake of letting him come to the ranch for a visit when he was ten. And Zacharius knew the minute he set foot on the Rising Sun that ranching would be his life. He convinced his father and mother to let him come to us three years later and he has pretty much been a fixture at the ranch ever since—except for that stint at Texas A&M after Leila left him. He was an AG major, of course. Even when his grandfather and his parents made him go to college, all he wanted to do was learn about how to raise better beef.”

  “She says she might come out for a visit real soon,” Tess said when Zach hung up the phone from talking to Melinda, the sister from the place called SoHo.

  Zach made a snorting noise. “When pigs fly. Melinda considers Wyoming the north end of nowhere. None of our restaurants are interesting enough, shopping opportunities are limited—and she might break a nail. Forget it.” He pulled Tess back toward the great room, where he put his arms around her and led her out onto the floor again.

  Tess closed her eyes and let herself enjoy dancing with him. She was a little scared about the night to come, but felt sure she would be able to get through it all right. He was a considerate man, after all. They would manage it, and in the morning they would be husband and wife in every way.

  It was midnight when the last guest drove off. And another hour had passed before the caterer from Sheridan headed for the highway in her panel truck. Zach had settled up with the woman a while before. Still, out of politeness, Tess stood in the dark yard to watch the woman leave. Then she turned for the house.

  Inside, she called quietly for Zach. When he didn’t answer, she assumed he was either back in the office for some reason—or already upstairs in their bedroom.

  Their bedroom. Her cheeks grew warm at the thought and a thousand fluttery things got loose inside her stomach.

  She drew in a deep breath and headed for the stairs.

  In the upper hall, she decided to peek in on Jobeth. Pausing outside her daughter’s room, she slipped off her shoes and set them on the hall floor. Then, oh-so-quietly, she pushed open the door.

  Across the room in the single bed, beneath the window that looked out on the side yard, Jobeth slept. She lay curled in a ball, her lips curved in a contented smile—despite the fact that she’d kicked the covers away and had to be just a little bit chilly. Careful not to disturb her slumber, Tess pulled up the blankets and tucked Jobeth in.

  Jobeth snuggled down and muttered something that was almost a word, “Mmnph...” But she didn’t open her eyes.

  Very lightly, Tess smoothed the feathery bangs from Jobeth’s forehead and brushed a kiss there. Then, for a few precious moments more, she stood staring down at her daughter, enjoying that wonderful feeling of lightness that sometimes came over her when she looked at Jobeth. She found herself thinking, Ah, yes. So many mistakes. But this one thing, my daughter. This one thing, I’m doing right...

  Finally, when Tess knew she could no longer postpone the short walk down the hall to the master bedroom, she turned and tiptoed out the way she had come. Pausing only to scoop up
her shoes from the floor, she went to join her new husband.

  He wasn’t there.

  She felt a moment of sheer relief. His absence meant she could put off what would happen just a little while longer. But then she started wondering where he might be. And then she understood.

  He was being thoughtful, giving her a few minutes alone, to prepare herself, before he joined her. With those pesky fluttery things kicking up a ruckus in her stomach again, she began unbuttoning her buttons and slipping out of her beautiful lavender dress.

  A few moments later, feeling totally naked though she still wore her slip and all her underwear, she padded to the closet to hang up the dress and collect her waiting nightwear. She was already reaching for a hanger before her mind actually registered what her eyes had seen. Zach’s side was bare.

  Chapter Four

  Moving automatically, Tess hung up her dress. Then, still in her slip, she left the big closet and strode to the double bureau. Slowly, one at a time, she pulled open each drawer on Zach’s side.

  Every one of them was empty.

  Tess stood staring down at all that emptiness and wondered what in the world was going on.

  With a small cry of dismay, she shoved a drawer shut. Then, quickly, in succession, she closed the other ones.

  It didn’t help. She could still see all that emptiness in her mind.

  Numbly she turned and walked to the bed. Once there, she clutched one of the posts for a minute, and then she dropped to a sitting position on the quilted maroon counterpane.

  Several moments passed, during which she sat hunched over, rubbing her bare arms, confused...and afraid.

  Zach did not plan to sleep in the same room with her. Some time after Wednesday night—when he might or might not have seen a thoughtless look she had turned Cash’s way—he had decided, without bothering to mention it to her, that he would move to another room.

  He must be very angry with her.

  But he hadn’t seemed angry. He’d been kind and attentive all afternoon and evening. He’d danced with her several times. And they had laughed together often. She remembered clearly how easily he had joked with her, about his family, about his sister from SoHo, who wouldn’t come to visit because she might break a nail.

  Could he have only pretended to be kind and to joke? Could this be some cruel revenge? Had he seen the look she’d given Cash, correctly read its meaning—and decided to show her exactly what he thought of a woman who could love one man and still agree to wed another?

  She shook her head. She couldn’t believe that of Zach. He wasn’t a vengeful man. If he’d seen by her face that she loved Cash, he’d have confronted her. Or simply called off the marriage.

  But whatever he might have done, he wouldn’t do something so cruel as this, removing his things from the room they were supposed to have shared—and letting her find out she’d sleep alone when she went to don her wedding negligee.

  Yet he had done it.

  Tess lifted her head and straightened her shoulders.

  She had to face him, to find out what he meant by this. He might imagine that she wouldn’t dare confront him, because of her shame and guilt at the secrets in her heart.

  And to a degree, he would be right. She did feel great shame. And crushing guilt. She didn’t want to love Abby’s husband. Every day she prayed that the love she felt would fade away. But still, she did love Cash.

  And she clung tightly to her belief that no one else knew.

  Yet she had to confront Zach. If she didn’t confront him, they had no marriage. She might as well put everything back in boxes and head for Edna’s—not that Edna would take her in, once she learned why it hadn’t worked out between her and Zach.

  Determined, Tess rose to her feet. She returned to the closet and found her old blue plaid robe in one of the boxes she’d yet to unpack. She pulled it on over her slip and belted it firmly at the waist. Next, she went to the big, battered suitcase that waited by the door to the hall. It contained the rest of the clothes she’d brought from Edna’s just today. She found her house slippers and slid them on. Finally she turned to the mirror over the bureau and met her own eyes.

  She didn’t like what she saw there: worry, misery and guilt. Too much of her life had been wasted, living those emotions over and over again.

  For nearly all of the rough years of her marriage to Josh, worry had dogged her. She worried that the landlord would catch her on the stairs and demand the rent today—or else. She worried that Josh would drink away his paycheck before he brought it home. Worried that he would quit his job before he ever got a paycheck. And once he’d quit, she worried that he’d never work again. Josh’s dreams had always been so much bigger than anything he ever actually managed to accomplish. And it depressed him, to have to go to work every day at some dead-end job when he wanted to be out drilling the oil well that would make him a millionaire.

  He had been a good-hearted man. But still, whenever Tess thought of him, she remembered the constant, nagging worry she had known during most of her life with him.

  She had done what she could to combat the worry. She had worked, whenever she could find something. But with Jobeth so young, it could never be more than part-time. And it was always for minimum wage. And she never had a chance to get anywhere on any job she found, because they inevitably packed up and moved on to someplace that Josh swore would be better.

  Wherever they moved, the worry went with them.

  The worry had caused the misery, the hopelessness, the growing certainty that they would never get out of the financial hole they had dug for themselves. The only bright spots had been the wonder of having a daughter like Jobeth—and the light of hope that Cash inspired, with his generosity to them.

  Three or four years ago, Tess had realized that she didn’t love her husband—and she did love Cash.

  That had brought the guilt.

  Finally, Josh had died. Roughnecking on an oil rig was dangerous work and an accident had killed him. The guilt had gone on, after Josh’s death. Because her feelings for Cash hadn’t faded.

  Still, in the good life she and Jobeth had lived with Edna, much of the worry and all of the misery had slowly melted away.

  Until tonight—when she had walked into that half-empty closet and looked in those accusing, vacant bureau drawers. Tonight, the misery and the worry had come crowding back on her, joining her guilt to make the whole world seem bleak and without hope.

  She would not live that way. In spite of the mistakes she’d made the first time around, Tess believed in marriage. She believed that a man and a woman could and should form a lasting commitment, raise children, help each other through the tough times and share the joys as well.

  But she could build a life on her own, just herself and Jobeth, if she had to. She was determined that this marriage would be different, better than the other. Or she would end it now.

  Tess turned away from the face in the mirror and headed for the door.

  The minute he saw her, standing in the arch that led to the stairway, wearing a threadbare plaid robe and a look of grim determination, Zach knew he’d handled the situation all wrong.

  She said his name, softly, hopelessly. “Zach.”

  They stared at each other for what seemed like a bleak eternity.

  “You moved your things,” she said at last, her voice breaking a little. She dragged in a breath and finished, “from the bedroom.”

  He went to the liquor cabinet, which stood against the wall opposite the windows and the sofa. There, he got out a little false courage, pausing, once he had the bottle in his hand, to hold it up toward her.

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  He shrugged, poured himself a shot and knocked it back. It burned a fortifying trail of liquid heat into his belly. He set the glass down.

  She stuck her hands into her pockets and spoke with great effort. “You never said anything about us not sharing a room. When I brought my things on Wednesday, your clothes were there.
But now, the closet and the bureau, it’s all half empty and I just don’t—”

  He put up a hand and she fell silent. “Look,” he said. “Sit down.”

  She hovered there in the arch to the central hall, biting her lip, looking at him through wounded eyes.

  He felt like some kind of heartless wife abuser. “Please, Tess. Come here and sit down.”

  She hesitated a moment more and then, at last, she padded across the giant rag rug his grandmother had braided herself forty years before. She went to the sofa, where she perched on the edge like some terrified little bird ready to take flight at the slightest hint of a threat.

  She folded her hands on her knees and then she looked at him good and long. “You changed your clothes,” she said at last. “That’s where you were, when I came in from outside a while ago.”

  “Right.” He gave a quick glance down at his Wranglers and flannel shirt, shrugging as he had when she refused the drink he’d offered. “The party’s over. I wanted to get comfortable. So what?”

  “You know what. You came back down here after I went up. Since everyone left, you’ve been purposely avoiding me, purposely going wherever I’m not.”

  He closed his eyes, ran a hand down his face. “I didn’t avoid you, Tess. Not really. I didn’t think on it much. I was restless, that’s all.”

  “You didn’t think on it much?” She looked even more wounded, if that was possible, than before.

  “Tess. Listen.”

  “I am. I’m listening. You tell me. Whatever it is, you just tell me. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good.”

  “Okay.”

  She waited.

  He made himself try to explain. “I, well, I’ve been alone for a number of years now. As a man, I mean. A single man.”

  She pressed her lips together, nodded, gave a little cough. “Okay.”

  He stumbled on. “I, well, I can see I should have thought about you, about how you would take it, when you saw I moved my things. But I didn’t. And I do apologize.”