The Nine-Month Marriage Page 7

And she had known that he’d demand marriage. What she hadn’t expected was to hear him speak so calmly of divorce

  She edged around him again, moving out into the middle of the room, where she turned and faced him squarely. “So you’re not talking about a real marriage at all. Just a marriage on paper. You want to set it up so that when our baby asks about it later, it will look like we cared.”

  He frowned. “That is not what I said. I said we’d try.”

  “‘Try.’” She braced her hands on her hips. “That’s a puny little word if I ever heard one.”

  “Abby, you’re fifteen years younger than I am. And you just said yourself that you never wanted to be a wife.” He held out both arms to the sides. “And look here. See any strings? No, you don’t. Because I like being single. It’s just what you said. We’re neither of us the marrying kind.” He approached her again, cautiously. “Together we probably haven’t got a snowflake’s chance in hell of making a marriage last.”

  “Well, it’s good to see you have such confidence in us.” She started to turn.

  He caught her arm. “Don’t get cute.”

  She shook him off, but stood her ground. “I am not cute.”

  “Look, I know I did wrong by you.”

  “There you go again. Acting like I wasn’t even there.”

  “But I want to do right by my child—as well as by the woman who is carrying my child.”

  “Cash, did you hear yourself? You just called me a woman. Are we making progress here?”

  His eyes glinted dangerously. “You will marry me, Abby.” He took her by the shoulders again. “Say you will.” He pulled her marginally closer. She felt his strength, his determination to do what he thought was right. His breath across her face was warm, and a little uneven. “Say yes.”

  She knew at that moment that she would say yes. She even had enough self-awareness to realize that she wanted to say yes.

  But some contrary devil inside her couldn’t just give in and go along. She had to push it a little, to find out exactly how much he counted on the option of divorce. “Did you mean that? About getting divorced if it doesn’t work out?”

  His eyes were like mirrors, giving only her own reflection back to her. “Yeah, I meant it.”

  “Then maybe we should just admit what we’re doing. From the first.”

  He blinked. “You’ve lost me.”

  “I mean, we could have an agreement between the two of us, right up front. The marriage would last until the baby comes. Or a little after. A year, say. We could be married for a year. And then, unless we change our minds and both decide we are the marrying kind, I’ll go to Reno twelve months after our wedding day—and get a divorce. And after that, we will equally share custody of our child.”

  He stared at her, his eyes wary. “Is that what you want?”

  It wasn’t, not really. In spite of the way she’d scoffed when he’d said it, she would have preferred to leave things open-ended: to simply give the marriage an honest try. But what right did she have to tie Cash down permanently if he didn’t want to be tied down? Wouldn’t he be happier if he knew he could easily be tree within a year? When she looked at it that way, her proposal didn’t seem like such a bad idea. The local scandal would be minimized, because the marriage would serve as a public statement that both the mother and the father were committed to the child they’d made. And if it didn’t last, well, people in Medicine Creek accepted divorce these days more readily than they accepted unwed mothers and illegitimate kids.

  “It could work,” Abby said.

  “I asked you if it’s what you want.” His eyes challenged her.

  Abby Heller had never been one to turn down a challenge. “Yes. It’s what I want.” Her voice sounded so sure, much more sure than she felt.

  Idly, he brushed his thumbs along the sides of her neck. “It would have to be just between us, this agreement.”

  Down inside her something heated and pooled. She tried to ignore it, tried to keep her voice matter-of-fact. “That’s what I said.”

  He went on stroking the sides of her neck—so lightly. “Fine. What ‘between us’ means to me is that no one else would know about it.”

  “Agreed.” She tried to pull away.

  He held on—so gently. “I’m not finished.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  He caressed the tip of her chin. Resolute, she neither flinched nor sighed.

  “We would also live together for the year. And for that time, it would be a real marriage.” He put both hands solidly on her shoulders again, his expression grave. “We’d give it an honest try.”

  Something happened inside her, a little burst of joy. Because he did want to try. He wanted a real marriage, for as long as it lasted. She did her best to look sure of herself—and to stop thinking about his idle caresses, caresses that he probably didn’t even realize aroused her. “Yes, all right. An honest try. But in a year, unless we both change our minds, it’s over.”

  He frowned, dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped back. “Would you want it in writing?”

  She smiled, a businesslike smile. “I’ll take your word—if you’ll take mine.”

  He nodded. “Good enough.” He held out his hand.

  They shook to seal the bargain as outside lightning flashed, thunder boomed and the first drops of rain began to fall.

  They made sure Edna was resting comfortably when they told her that Cash was the father of Abby’s baby and that they were getting married right away.

  But Edna surprised them both. After a few agonizing seconds where she stared in openmouthed disbelief from her daughter to Cash and then back to her daughter again, she smiled.

  A slow smile. “Well.” She went on smiling. “This isn’t so bad after all—now, is it?”

  Abby didn’t like that smile at all. “What do you mean, it’s not so bad?”

  “Well, now, Abigail, we all know how you are.”

  “Oh. And how is that?”

  “Headstrong, to put it mildly. Headstrong and rash.”

  “So?”

  “So at least you were headstrong and rash with the right man.”

  Abby couldn’t come up with a scathing enough reply for that one.

  Edna went one better. “And you need a man strong enough to master you.”

  Abby groaned. “Master me?” She thought she heard Cash chuckle, but when she shot him a glance, his face was perfectly serious. She turned her attention to Edna again. “I do not believe you said that.”

  Edna huffed a little. “You did ask.”

  “And I regret asking, believe me.”

  “Also, Cash will take care of you.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Edna wasn’t listening. “And we’ll all be a family,” she said. “At last. In the real, true sense. Cash’s children will be my grandchildren. Nate and Zach will be their uncles.”

  She held out her hand—toward Cash, Abby realized. He stepped forward, still looking appropriately grave, and took that outstretched hand.

  “Oh, Cash, I’m so happy. This is wonderful. I’m just…overwhelmed with joy.”

  Chapter Six

  Two weeks later, on July 22, Cash and Abby were married in the neat little white-trimmed brick church where each of them had been baptized as children. Abby wore the dress in which Vivian Sellerby had wed Johnny Bravo thirty-eight years before, a stunning creation of silk and seed pearls, with a basque waist and lace sleeves that came to pearl-embroidered points on the tops of her hands. The dress was a pretty good fit, except for the waist, which had to be let out at the last minute to allow for the weight that Abby had finally started to put on.

  The church was full. Of course the whole town had been talking; no one had ever thought there was that kind of relationship between Cash and Abby. In the days after the word got out, Abby had been congratulated frequently on her upcoming marriage. To her, some of those congratulations seemed a little forced, especially from the other single
women in town. Though Cash had never come close to proposing to any of them, more than one had dared to dream that someday she would be his chosen bride.

  They held the reception at Cash’s house. Cash had hired a caterer from Sheridan, a small woman with a big ability to put a great party together in a hurry. She had the rugs rolled back in the living room and had hired a four-piece band. She’d put tubs of bright flowers everywhere, decorated the banisters with white silk roses that looked like the real thing and prepared a feast that included Rising Sun beef, lobster on ice and game birds stuffed with corn bread and chestnuts. The cake had four tiers and raspberry sauce between the layers.

  Abby danced the first dance with Cash’s father. Johnny Bravo had arrived the day before from some small South American country where he’d been enjoying retirement for the past few years. He looked like an older version of Cash: tan, fit and heartbreaker-handsome—and not a day over fifty, though his actual age was sixty-six. He’d brought along his new wife, his fourth. Her name was Allegra. Allegra spoke with a faint accent, one Abby couldn’t place. She had platinum-blond hair and eyes the tropical green of a parrot’s wing. She resembled the pop singer Madonna. A very young Madonna. If Allegra was over twenty-five, Abby would eat her wedding veil.

  “You look beautiful,” Johnny told Abby as she whirled in his arms. He seemed a little misty-eyed, and a little sad, too. Abby wondered if it bothered him that she had chosen to wear Vivian’s wedding gown.

  Everyone said that Vivian had been the great love of Johnny Bravo’s life. She had died giving birth to their second child, a girl. The baby hadn’t made it, either. People said Johnny had never gotten over the loss, and that his relationships with all the other women who came after were only pitiful attempts to get through the rest of his life without the woman he loved.

  Abby wanted him to understand why she’d chosen the dress. “I always admired this dress, from the pictures of you and Vivian. And Mom remembered that it was up in the attic at the ranch. I guess it just seemed like a good idea to wear it today.”

  Johnny gave her a big smile. “There’s no need to explain. Viv would have been honored that you chose that dress. And I am honored, too.”

  “Well, I’m glad, then.”

  When the dance ended, Cash came to claim her. Before he did, Johnny whispered in her ear, “My son’s a lucky devil. You be happy, you hear?”

  She whispered back, “I will.”

  Another tune started up. Cash took her in his arms. For a moment, they simply danced. Smiling, Abby closed her eyes and leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder. She felt all shimmery. For the past two weeks, she’d been getting used to the idea that Cash would be her husband. It really hadn’t been that difficult an adjustment after all.

  “You seem happy,” he said.

  His voice was soft and teasing in her ear. She liked the sound of it. She also liked the feel of his arms, guiding her in the dance.

  She cuddled a little closer to him. “It was a nice wedding. And this is a nice party.”

  “But are you happy? Right now, at this minute?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Well, good. I want you to be happy.”

  They danced some more. Abby went on thinking about how right it felt, to dance with Cash. But that shouldn’t have surprised her. He had taught her to dance, after all, in the great room of the ranch house. He could dance to anything. From Glenn Miller to Billy Ray Cyrus, the fox trot to the achy-breaky. The first time he showed her how to waltz, she had stood on his feet as he glided her around the floor; she had felt as if she were floating on air.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What do you mean, what?”

  “That dreamy look, that’s what.”

  “Just thinking. Remembering.”

  “Remembering what?”

  “Me standing on your feet, learning to dance.”

  He chuckled. “You learned fast.”

  “I’m a bright girl.”

  He pulled her close again and they finished out the dance. After that, he spoke to the boys in the band. They played a slow, stately number. Cash went to Edna and held out his hand. She rose and allowed her new son-in-law to squire her out onto the floor.

  Abby danced with Zach and then with Nate, who had come all the way from Los Angeles for this event. As usual, Nate’s black hair grew over his collar. Abby smoothed it a little, thinking how handsome and dangerous and semidisreputable he looked. Nate had always had a reputation as a bad boy. But Abby had grown up with him. She knew he wasn’t nearly as bad as he liked everyone to think.

  “If I’d known Cash would snap you up, I would have made a play myself,” Nate said teasingly.

  “Well, it’s too late now.”

  “You let me know if he gives you any grief.”

  She faked a look of surprise. “Cash? Give me grief?”

  He grunted. “He’s a lucky son of a gun.”

  “His father said that, too. Apparently, I’m a real prize. I hate housekeeping and I can’t cook. But there’s something wonderful about me anyway.”

  Nate lifted an eyebrow at her and she realized from his expression that he’d guessed there was a child on the way. Well, what could she expect? After all, she was beginning to show. And she imagined a lot of people must have noticed—and remarked on it when they thought she wouldn’t hear. And surely by the time she bore a full-term baby just six months after her wedding day anyone who could count would have figured it out.

  She grinned defiantly up at Nate.

  Nate tossed back his head and laughed out loud. But when he looked down at her again, his dark eyes had grown serious. “You mean the world to him. And I know that scares him. Don’t let it scare you off.”

  Before Abby could think of what to say to that, they danced past Meggie May Kane, whose father owned a smaller ranch bordering Rising Sun land. Abby saw the swift, hot look that passed between Nate and Meggie.

  Years ago, Nate and Meggie had been friends. But not anymore. Now they went out of their way to avoid each other whenever Nate came to town. Abby thought it was too bad. She had seen with her own eyes how strongly they were drawn to each other. That had been years ago, when they were both nineteen and Abby was just a little girl, crouching in the bushes, spying on her elders.

  The dance ended. Barnaby Cotes, a local shop owner, was waiting for a dance with the bride. As he stepped in, Nate turned and walked away.

  A little while later, the band took a break. Abby wandered over to the bar, where Tess DeMarley assisted the bartender by serving the punch and soft drinks.

  Tess had come to town just last week, after Cash had called her and explained that Abby’s mother needed a housemate. Tess would get food and board and a small salary for looking after Edna, taking care of the house and cooking the meals. And there was a gift shop in town that would hire her if she wanted more work as Edna’s health improved.

  Abby had never thought Edna would go for it. She couldn’t see her mother letting any stranger—especially one with a child—move into her beloved house. But Tess DeMarley was gentle and soft-spoken, a great cook and a fine housekeeper. Edna had taken one look at her and known she’d found the daughter that Abby should have been. So Edna was as happy as a bee in clover. She even got along with Tess’s quiet, self-possessed daughter, Jobeth.

  Abby liked Tess, too. Who could help but like her? She had a sort of ingrained dignity and goodness about her. Yet she wasn’t self-righteous in the least. She’d had a tough life, living with that reckless Josh DeMarley all those years. And now she was a widow, starting all over again.

  “Punch?” Tess asked.

  “I’d love some.”

  Tess dipped up some punch and handed Abby a cup.

  Abby took a long, grateful drink. “I haven’t seen you dance once.”

  Tess looked down modestly. “I’ve been busy helping out.”

  Just then, Zach wandered by. Abby reached out and grabbed him. “I want you to dance with Tess. Now.”


  Tess looked all flustered. “Oh, no. Really….”

  “I’d be pleased to,” Zach said, and held out his hand.

  “Go on,” Abby instructed. “It’s my wedding. And I’ll mind the punch bowl. Don’t you worry about a thing.” She watched, smiling fatuously, as tall, quiet Zach danced off with pretty, reserved Tess. She thought they made a nice couple. Who could say? Maybe she and Cash would start a trend, a rash of Bravo weddings. Zach would marry Tess. And Nate would finally get together with Meggie May Kane.

  She told Cash about her matchmaking fantasies later, after midnight, when the guests had all gone and the little dynamo of a caterer had packed everything up and driven away. Cash grinned when she told him. But then he shook his head. “Nate’s favorite song is ‘Don’t Fence Me In.’ And you know Meggie May—she’ll never leave the Double-K. It’s got fences all around it. And as for Zach…” He let silence finish the sentence.

  Abby took his meaning. Zach had married his high-school sweetheart, Leila Wickerston, a week after graduation. The marriage lasted three years. When Leila walked out, she took their only child with her. “It’s been years since Leila left him. He might try again.”

  Cash only grunted. He went over to the bar, clear now of all the party paraphernalia, and poured himself two fingers of Jack Daniels. He sipped, leaning against the bar, regarding her over the rim of his glass.

  She regarded him right back.

  A long, slow moment went by before he seemed to shake himself. “It’s late,” he said. “I’ll bet you’re tired.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not tired. Not at all.” She felt like the heroine of My Fair Lady—she wanted to dance all night.

  Or make love.

  She smiled to herself. It was true. She wanted to make love with Cash again. She’d had two weeks to deal with the idea. Like the idea of being his wife, it hadn’t been that hard to get used to.

  She was sitting on the couch, still in her wedding gown, though she’d long ago dispensed with the veil. She stood. “I don’t know what’s the matter with this dress.”

  He sipped some more. “There’s not a damn thing wrong with that dress.”