He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have mattered, Abby. Everyone has choices. Sometimes we may not like them, but we still have them. My grandfather chose to ignore his responsibilities and have fun. He didn’t care what it did to his family. I’m not like him. I couldn’t be like him.” His voice was fierce, determined.
“No, you couldn’t.” She smiled at him and put her hand on the back of his head, her fingers sliding into his hair as she held his gaze. “You take care of this ranch and Buddy and both of them are thriving. And now you’re taking care of me and the baby. You do everything you’re supposed to do, Tate.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. “It scares me sometimes, Abby. I’m afraid my father was right, that I am like my grandfather. Sometimes I want to forget about all the responsibility and do things just for me. Do it because I want it, not because it’s what I need to do.”
Sadness washed over her, along with a feeling of resignation. He was thinking about Diane, of course. If he hadn’t felt like he had a responsibility to her and the baby, he could have been with the woman he really wanted right now.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she murmured. “It’s a normal human reaction.” She paused thoughtfully. “Like you said, we all have choices. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do because it’s the right choice. But occasionally we have to put ourselves first.”
And how long would it be before he did just that? Sooner or later he was going to realize that he couldn’t be happy without Diane. When he did, she had to be ready to face it and get on with her life.
The corners of his lips tilted up slightly. “I don’t think I know how.”
“Sure you do.” She forced a smile and repeated the words he’d once said to her. “For instance, if you could do anything you wanted to right now, what would it be? Other than clean the bathroom, of course.”
He threw back his head and laughed, the sound startling several birds into the air. By the time he looked back down, his expression had lightened. “If I could do anything I wanted to, I’d strip you very slowly, one piece of clothing at a time. Then I’d carry you into the water and we’d swim and make love all day long.”
Abby held out her arms. “What are you waiting for?”
* * * * *
The whine came from the back door again and Abby smiled. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.” She pushed the screen open and Dog slipped inside, his tail fanning her legs. She’d been letting him in for longer periods of time since the day she’d given him a bath. Neither Tate nor Buddy appeared to mind and the animal kept her company during the day when the two were out working.
“Who are you talking to?”
She glanced around as Tate walked into the kitchen. His mood had improved a hundred percent since last Sunday. Hers was still pretty much up in the air. She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said about choices, how there always was one, even if you didn’t like the options.
“Dog. He wanted in.”
“He wanted in because he knows you’re cleaning up the supper dishes. He thinks he’s going to get a handout.” He smiled at her. “I suspect he’s right.”
Abby paused in the act of reaching for the leftovers. “You caught me. I admit it. I’ve been feeding him. But he just looks so hungry all the time.”
“I’ve never seen a dog that didn’t. I bet he’s gained ten pounds since you’ve been here.”
She shrugged and dumped the food into Dog’s bowl. “He was too skinny anyway.”
“Only because he ran it all off chasing rabbits and armadillos.” He opened the fridge and took out a can of soda.
“What were you doing upstairs a few minutes ago? It sounded like you were moving furniture.”
Popping the top on the can, he delayed answering long enough to take a drink, then nodded. “You could say that. When Buddy outgrew the baby bed, Dad stuck it up in the attic. I brought it back down to see what kind of shape it was in.”
“And?” She dried the last dish and put it in the cabinet.
“I haven’t got it completely put together yet, but it looks pretty good. May need a new mattress. You can see what you think.”
“Think about what?” Buddy let the back door slam behind him.
“Your baby bed.” Abby smiled at him. “Tate got it down from the attic.”
“Yeah? I didn’t even know we still had it.”
“Complete with your teeth prints on one side,” Tate commented. He grinned at Abby. “Even back then he tried to eat everything in sight.”
Buddy rolled his eyes. “Man, make one mistake around here and they never let you forget it. To hear him talk, I’m the only one who ever did anything stupid. Did he tell you about the scar on his butt?”
Abby’s glance met Tate’s and they both smiled. She had become well acquainted with that scar, could probably even draw it to scale. “Joe told me about it.”
“Dang. How about the time—”
“How’s Domino?” Tate intervened hurriedly.
Of all the foals born on the ranch this spring, Domino, a tiny appaloosa filly, was Abby’s favorite. But the feisty little horse had a deep fascination for the barbed wired fence. Twice now they’d had to treat cuts received in her explorations.
“She’s fine, but we should probably move her and her mother to one of the board-fenced pastures before she really hurts herself. Anyway, like I was saying,” Buddy continued. “One of Dad’s favorite stories was about the time Tate thought he’d found a new kitten. Lugged it all the way home from the creek. He was starting into the house with it when Mom saw him and screamed. Turned out that black and white kitten was a skunk. When Mom screamed, she scared it. Dad said by the time he got there all three of them were running in different directions.”
“Oh, yeah. Laugh.” Tate glared as Abby convulsed. “Do you have any idea how long it takes for that smell to wear off? Mom wouldn’t even let me in the house for two days and she scrubbed me down in every concoction her and the neighbors had ever heard about. It was a miracle I had any skin left.”
“I bet you never brought any more kittens home.” Abby wiped the laugh tears from her eyes.
The smile he gave her was wry. “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve always had this thing for kittens.” He finished the soda and tossed the empty can in the trash. “Ready to go look at the bed?”
“Sure.”
“Hey,” Buddy halted them. “Fourth of July celebration is next week. We going?”
“We usually do.” Tate looked at her. “It’s up to you. Everyone from around here generally puts their food together and we have one big picnic.”
“It sounds like fun. Before, I always just watched the fireworks from my porch.”
He gave her a quick kiss. “This time, we can watch them together.”
“Yep, you and about two thousand other people. Should be nice and cozy.”
Tate glanced at his brother. “Can I assume you and Amy Fletcher are going to be cozied up on your own blanket about that time?”
“Yeah.” Buddy’s tone was disgusted. “Me, her and her parents. Real romantic. If I even try to hold her hand, Mr. Fletcher glares at me for an hour.”
“Probably with good reason.” Tate grinned at him, then steered Abby through the door. “Remember, he was sixteen once upon a time, too. He knows exactly what you’re thinking.”
Abby laughed as Buddy’s low-voiced “damn” followed them. “That was mean. Now he’s going to be a nervous wreck every time he’s around the man.”
“Good. He deserves it for telling that skunk story.” He pushed the nursery door open and stood back to let her go in first.
Tate had been right. The room was turning into a wonderful nursery. The large windows let in lots of light and the new paint glowed with the colors of the sunset. The border he’d put around the top of the walls depicted the alphabet, each letter a different pastel shade. Among the letters, tiny animals played with blocks, balls and other toys.
An old wooden rocking chair already sat in one corner. Tate had painted it the same shade as the walls and Abby had made tie-on cushions for it that matched the border. The only other item of furniture in the room was the crib Tate had just brought down. The headboard and footboard were both solid wood, the top of each making a gentle curve. Only the sides were railed.
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s perfect.” Abby ran a hand over the wood. “And dusty.”
“Well, it’s going to need a couple coats of paint anyway. And maybe we could stencil some kind of design on the headboard.”
“That’s a good idea.” She smiled in spite of the wave of sadness that rolled her. “This is going to be the most beautiful room a baby could ever have.”
He was studying her intently. “Abby, is something wrong?”
“Of course not. What could be wrong?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “It’s just that for the last few days you seem to be drifting off a lot, like you’re thinking about something real hard. You know, if there’s a problem you can talk about it with me?”
“I know.” She crossed to him and put her arms around his waist. “I guess I’ve been thinking about the baby. Sometimes I can almost see it, Tate. A little boy with black hair and blue eyes who looks just like you.” But even in her daydreams, she never saw the baby in this nursery. Even as her waistline expanded, the image of the three of them together as a family was fading. Abby fought desperately to keep the tears from her eyes as his hand spread over her stomach.
“You know what I see? A tiny little girl with huge brown eyes and dimples that can light up the world.”
But what did his vision of the future include? Was it the three of them or did a fourth presence stand between them? One that never quite went away.
When Tate had brought her here and married her, he’d implied they had no choice, but he was wrong. There had been a choice. By taking the course of action they had, that choice had only been delayed. And sooner or later he was going to be forced to make it. Her or Diane. His responsibility or what he really wanted.
And he wasn’t the only one who had a choice to make. She did too. When the time came, would she make him live up to his responsibility? She knew she could do it. She could stay here with him and the baby forever. Loving him, knowing he didn’t love her. Or she could let him go.
There was a sudden flutter where his hand rested on her stomach, then a more pronounced surge of movement. Abby lifted her startled gaze to Tate’s.
Awe shone from his eyes. “I felt it,” he whispered. “The baby moved.”
This time the tears spilled from her eyes and she didn’t even try to slow them. No matter what happened, she had his child. And she had this moment in time to savor forever.
His arms folded around her and he buried his face in her hair. “Our baby. A real live little person. And we made it together.” He lifted her chin and kissed the tears from her cheeks. His eyes were misted over. “Thank you, Abby. No one has ever given me a gift as great as this one before.”
A new spate of tears fell from her eyes at his words. Dear God, how would she ever find the strength to let him go when she loved him so much?
Chapter Twenty-One
“Think it’s going to rain? I’d hate for the picnic to be ruined.” Abby uncovered the bowls Tate had deposited on the long table before he’d gone to join a group of men hovering nearby.
Hank stood with her hands on her broad hips, lips pursed as she surveyed the fluffy white clouds piling up on the horizon. “Yep, I’d bet on it. Before this day is over it’s gonna become a real toad choker.”
Mae skirted the woman’s mountainous bulk, shaking her head as she helped Abby with the food. “You say the same thing every Fourth, Hank. Don’t pay her any mind, Abby. If it rains at all, it won’t be until tonight.”
“I guess rain would be good for the drought, wouldn’t it?”
“Sugar, it’d have to rain steady for a couple of months to make a dent in this drought. Might give us a little relief from the heat, though.”
In a fit of patriotic pride, Hank had fashioned herself an outfit of red, white and blue. It looked like at least four large flags had given their lives for that dress. When she walked in front of the flag-draped bandstand, she was so well camouflaged that she virtually disappeared. Abby grinned as she watched the woman dab at her sweaty forehead with a hanky.
“Here comes Ida and that girl of hers.” Mae gestured toward the parking lot. “I heard that middle boy of yours was courting Claire, Hank.”
“’Bout time one of ‘em was courting somebody,” Hank growled. “At the rate they’re going I’ll be dead two years before I have any grandkids.”
“Well, look at the bright side.” Mae turned back to the table. “You can always spoil Abby’s and Tate’s. It’s gonna need a grandma.”
Hank’s round face brightened. “I think you’ve got something there, Mae.” She pulled Abby closer. “Let me have another look at you.” Nodding her head wisely she surveyed Abby’s stomach. “Just what I thought. You’re carrying high. That means it’s a girl.”
“Really?” Abby peered down at her front.
“No, it don’t,” Mae argued. “That means it’s a boy.”
“Bull puckey. I ought to know. I had three boys. Spread out behind with all of them.”
“And still going,” Mae mumbled.
Hastily, Abby intervened. “Doctor Spanos is going to do another ultrasound during my next appointment. We’ll know for sure then.”
“I’m not sure I trust those things.” Ida had arrived just in time to hear the last comment. “You remember that Davis girl from over near Two Forks, Mae? They told her she was gonna have a boy. Her and her man painted everything blue, bought a bunch of boy stuff, and then danged if she didn’t have the prettiest little girl you ever saw. Had to bring her home from the hospital in coveralls and a ball cap.”
Abby moved a little way down the table, letting the chatter of the women flow over her. Hank was right. The heat seemed even more stifling today than usual. The humidity was so high that it was like trying to breathe underwater. Even the shade of the trees provided only minimal relief.
She took the clip from her hair, ran her fingers through it, then twisted it back up and re-fastened the clip. It didn’t help a lot, but at least it got the loose strands off her neck.
Her gaze wandered around the park. It was filling up rapidly as the lunch hour approached. A country western band had drawn most of the teenagers to the bandstand, and she saw Buddy and Amy Fletcher standing together listening. Apparently Mr. Fletcher wasn’t near because he was holding the girl’s hand. Abby smiled then glanced toward the group of men, searching for Tate.
It only took a second to find him. He stood with his back against the trunk of a tree, knee bent as he propped one booted foot up beside him. He was nodding at something one of the men was saying, but he was looking at her.
When their gazes met, he winked and Abby’s heart did a rapid back flip. It still felt like this whole thing had been a dream. How could a man like him want someone like her? But he did. Even now she could see it in his eyes, in spite of the fact that they’d made love that morning. If he only loved her half as much as he wanted her, life would be perfect.
“Well, I think that about does it,” Hank said from beside her. “Dinner!”
The loud bellow aimed in the general direction of the men almost made Abby jump out of her skin. Carefully, she stepped out of the way of the small stampede Hank’s yell had precipitated.
“You look like you’re about to pass out from this heat.”
She looked up as Tate took her arm. “I’ll be fine.”
He shook his head. “Why don’t you go spread the blanket out under a tree and sit down? I’ll bring you something to eat.” He brushed a strand of sweat-damp hair away from her face. “Go on. I’ll only be a minute.”
“Okay.” She smiled at him and picked up the blank
et they had brought. As soon as it was spread, she sank down on it with a sigh of relief and kicked off her sandals. She had to admit, it did feel good to sit down.
“Here we go.” Tate sat down beside her and handed her one of the plates heaped with food.
“Thanks.” She dug in and they ate in silence for a few minutes. “Hank thinks it’s going to rain today.”
Tate paused long enough to glance at the sky. “Storm is more like it, but it won’t be until later tonight.”
Abby looked at him curiously. “How do you all know this?”
He grinned at her. “Well, Hank would probably tell you she knows because her knee hurts when it’s going to rain. Tom Jenkins would say it’s because the frogs are croaking louder or the flies are biting. But the truth is, it’s just common sense and a lifetime of watching the weather. When you have heat like this combined with a lot of humidity, something has to give.” He pointed to the clouds with his fork. “Those are cumulonimbus clouds. They’re anvil shaped and stretch for miles into the air. Those are the ones you get lightning, thunder, hail and sometimes even tornadoes from.”
“Tornadoes?” She looked anxiously at the clouds.
“Don’t worry. Those don’t look that bad. Probably just get some wind and rain.”
“If you say so.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “I say so. Feel up to taking a walk through the midway later? Maybe I can win you a bear at one of the games.”
“I’d love to, but I suspect it would be easier to just buy a bear.” She grinned at him.
“Have a little faith in your husband, woman,” he growled at her.
“Why should she?” Joe plopped down on the blanket with them. “She probably knows you can’t hit the broad side of a barn. Don’t worry, Abby. I’ll be happy to win that bear for you.”
Tate arched an eyebrow at him. “Want to put your money where your mouth is?”
Abby groaned. “Will you two cut it out? I don’t care if you win a bear or not.” Both men ignored her words.
“Ten bucks says I win and you don’t.”