“I’m sorry, Diane,” he whispered, brushing her hair back. “I won’t let it happen again. Clayton is going to pay for this.”
He turned, every muscle in his body tense, and left the hospital.
* * * * *
Whether from the rain or the holiday, Delly’s Tavern was almost empty of its usual crowd. Tate stopped in the entrance and let his gaze move through the semi-gloom. It only took a second to spot his target.
Clayton was sitting at the far end of the bar, a drink in front of him. His khaki pants were wrinkled, as if he’d slept in them. His white dress shirt wasn’t in much better shape. His sandy hair was mussed and, even as Tate watched, he ran a hand through it.
Rage slammed into Tate. The man’s wife was in the hospital, beaten senseless, and he was sitting here getting drunk. Paying no attention to the other men in the room, he stopped next to Clayton. His hand shot out. Grabbing Caldwell’s white collar, he yanked the man off the stool and spun him around.
“You bastard.”
Clayton blinked at him in surprise. “Well, if it isn’t my wife’s true love. What do you want, McCollum? Here to rub it in?”
“What do I want?” His fist slammed into Clayton’s jaw. Arms wind-milling, the man went down, crashing into the table behind him. “I want to show you exactly how it feels. Not any fun when you’re on the receiving end is it, Clayton? You’re so damn brave when it comes to beating on women, let’s see how you do against someone who can fight back. Now get up.”
Lifting a hand to his bleeding mouth, Clayton staggered to his feet. “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never hit a woman in my life.”
“Your wife is in the hospital because those were love taps, right?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
The blood drained from Clayton’s face and he swayed. “Diane is in the hospital? When? What happened?” He grabbed the front of Tate’s shirt and shook. “Damn it! Tell me. Is she okay?”
Tate closed his hands tightly around Clayton’s. “Are you trying to tell me that you don’t know anything about this?”
“I haven’t seen her in three days. She was supposed to be in Austin shopping.” He released Tate and visibly gathered himself. “I’m going to the hospital.”
“I’ll take you. I’m not letting you out of my sight until the police have a chance to talk to you.” He caught the reek of whiskey fumes wafting from the man. “I doubt if you’re sober enough to drive anyway.” He turned toward the door, making sure Clayton was following him.
They were silent while Tate started the truck, then Clayton glanced at him. “How is she?”
“She’ll live. When I left, she was asleep. They gave her a sedative.”
Clayton buried his face in his hands, shoulders slumped in resignation. “I tried to tell her. She wouldn’t listen to me.”
Tate turned onto the highway and looked at him sharply. “You know who did that to her?”
“Not his name or what he looks like. But she’s been coming home bruised up for weeks now. If I’d known who he was, don’t you think I’d have stopped it myself?” Anger tinged his voice. “When are you going to let her go, Tate? She doesn’t love you anymore than you do her.”
“What are you talking about? I let her go when I married Abby.”
“Did you? Then why are you the one she ran to? I’m her husband, damn it! I’m the one she’s supposed to come to. God.” He shook his head. “Do you know how long I’ve been in love with her? Do you even have a clue what it did to me all those years when she’d leave me and go right back to you?” His breath hitched. “It ate me alive. I’d sit in Delly’s and watch the two of you together and it almost killed me, knowing you didn’t love her.”
Tate’s grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles bled white. “What makes you think I didn’t love her?”
“You knew she was seeing me. How did that make you feel? You don’t even have to answer, because I know. You ignored it like it was a minor inconvenience. But I wanted to strangle you every time I saw that damned ring back on her finger.” His laugh held an edge of pain that jangled a cord of sympathy in Tate.
“I was so happy when she said she’d marry me, even knowing it was because she wanted to get even with you. I actually believed we might have a chance together. I thought it was finally over, that you realized you didn’t love her. But Diane knew better, didn’t she, Tate? That’s why she couldn’t leave you alone.”
The windshield wipers slapped away the rain that was hitting the window. “You’re right.” Tate’s voice was low. “I didn’t love her. Not like I should have. And for that I’m sorry.” He glanced at the man next to him. Clayton looked almost as bad as Diane had. Lines of defeat etched his face, aging him ten years.
“I didn’t know how you felt, Clayton. I was just trying to take care of her like I’d been doing most of her life.”
“Let her go, Tate. She doesn’t need you to take care of her anymore. She’s got me now. She deserves better than just being a habit.”
Tate stopped the truck in the hospital parking lot and put one hand on Clayton’s arm. “You’re wrong about one thing, Clayton. I have let her go. I let go the day I found out she married you. But I guess I’m guilty of not making it clearer and that’s another thing I’m sorry for. I owe both of you an apology.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “And maybe someone else, too.”
Clayton gave a curt nod and reached for the door handle. He hesitated when Tate didn’t move. “You aren’t coming in?”
“No. I think you can handle it from now on and there’s something I need to do at home.”
* * * * *
It felt like a two ton weight that he hadn’t even known was there had been lifted from his shoulders. Tate’s mouth curved into a smile as he drove home. He was an idiot, no doubt about it. He’d put himself through hell over Diane, his guilt affecting everything he’d done. And all for nothing. Clayton was right. She didn’t need him, she had a husband who loved her.
His laughter rang inside the truck. God, he felt good. He couldn’t wait to get home to Abby. There was so much he needed to tell her, so much to make up for. And starting now, he was going to spend the rest of his life doing just that.
If he could have ordered a wife specially made to suit his wants and needs, he couldn’t have found anyone better than Abby. She’d taken to life on the ranch like a squirrel to a pecan tree. She cooked better than anyone he knew and kept the house spotless. She didn’t have a conceited bone in her body. What it all came down to was that Abby cared. About him, about Buddy, about her friends.
And the way they made love. A tingle raced over him. Their bodies were a perfect fit, like they’d been designed for each other. One look from those big brown eyes was all it took for him to be ready. When he touched her, it almost drove him out of his mind.
His foot came down harder on the accelerator. He needed to hold her, feel her warm body curled up against his. He glanced at the clock on the dash, shocked that it was so late. She’d probably be in bed asleep by now, but that was okay. He’d just slip in beside her and hold her the rest of the night. In the morning, after they made love, they could talk.
The truck went up on two wheels, he took the turn onto the driveway so fast. Stifling the urge to yell with happiness, he stopped in front of the house.
Slowly, his smile faded. Every light in the house was on. If Buddy had gone to bed and left them on, he was going to catch it in the morning. Or maybe Abby had decided to wait up for him after all. His smile returned. That had to be it.
He climbed out of the truck and went up the steps, his smile widening at the sight of Abby’s sandals sitting to one side of the door. He’d clean the mud off them in the morning and surprise her.
As soon as he pushed the door open, he came to an abrupt stop. Buddy was sitting on the couch, his face buried in his hands. Every line of his body was a picture of misery. Tate’s mouth went dry, his heart slamming into his ribs.
&nbs
p; “Buddy?”
His brother raised his head, but for a moment, Tate had the impression he wasn’t seeing him. His eyes were rimmed in red, his face pasty white.
“Buddy, what’s wrong?”
Suddenly, the teenager focused on him. “Wrong?”
Tate took a step backwards at the anger radiating from his brother’s voice.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong! She’s gone.” Tears were streaming down Buddy’s face. “Did you hear me, you bastard? She’s gone and it’s all your fault!”
Ice ran through his veins and he shook uncontrollably. “Abby?” The word came out a whispered moan of anguish. “No!” He bolted for the stairs, desperate to reach the bedroom.
“It won’t do you any good to look.” Buddy’s voice followed him. “She’s gone and she’s not coming back.”
He didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it. Not until he stood in the bedroom, staring into the closet that seemed so empty with only his clothes in it. The only sign that she’d ever been there were the wet clothes piled on the floor.
“Oh, God, Abby. What have I done?”
Agony ripped though him, blinding in its intensity. He lost track of time as he stood frozen in place. Thoughts spun through his mind like a child’s top, but only one continued to surface time after time. He’d lost her.
There had to be a way through this disaster. There had to be. If he could only think straight, if his head didn’t hurt so badly, maybe he could figure out what it was.
Find her. He clutched at the idea. If he could find her, he could convince her to come back. She needed him. She needed someone to take care of her.
Spinning, he ran back down the stairs and confronted his brother. “Where is she?”
Buddy’s anger had given way to defeat, his body slumped back on the couch. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me where she was going.”
Tate clenched his teeth to keep from screaming. “How long has she been gone?”
“Hours. She only came back long enough to get her things, then she left.” The teenager leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees. “You know why she left? She said you’d made your choice and you chose Diane. And then she told me to take care of you.” His voice broke on the last sentence and his head lowered.
Fighting back the pain that threatened to rip him in half was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Eyes closed, he sucked in deep breaths of air until he knew he could speak again.
“Buddy, I have to know how she left. Did she call a cab?”
“No. She left with Joe.”
A tiny thread of hope lit inside. Joe would know where she was. He would make sure she was okay. Abby wasn’t alone. Someone was taking care of her. And if she were at Joe’s he could talk to her, convince her to come back.
The door slammed against the wall as he went through it, then bounced back as he leaped down the steps. His foot hit something just as he reached the truck. He glanced down at the sodden remains of purple fur and his heart broke into a million pieces.
Gently, he picked it up and tried to wipe away the mud that coated its fur. “I’m sorry, Abby,” he whispered. “God, I’m so sorry.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Buddy yanked the door open and dragged Joe inside. “God, I’m glad you’re here. You have to do something. I can’t stand this much longer.”
“Where is he?”
“Same place he’s spent every spare minute since Abby left. Either the bedroom, the nursery or down at the creek.”
“Fishing? That’s a good sign.”
Buddy shook his head. “He doesn’t fish. Hasn’t touched the gear in a month. And he’s barely eating enough to stay alive.”
“What about the ranch?”
“He’s doing what has to be done, but not much more. It’s like he just doesn’t care about anything. We’ve got to snap him out of it. I don’t ever want to go through anything like that first week again. He was practically breaking down doors all over town trying to find her.”
Joe sighed. “I know. He wouldn’t believe me when I told him she’d left Cooper Creek. But maybe what I’ve got to tell him today will do the trick.”
Buddy perked up. “You talked to Abby?”
“Better than that. I saw her yesterday.”
“She’s okay?”
“She’s fine. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I need to talk to Tate.”
“He’s up there today.” Buddy pointed toward the stairs.
Joe took them two at a time, but paused halfway down the hall. The sound of squeaking came from the direction of the nursery and he pushed the door open without knocking.
Tate was sitting in the rocking chair. He didn’t even look up when Joe came in. His gaze was fixed on the scraggly bear in his lap. In spite of obvious efforts to clean it up, it was still a pretty sorry sight. The mud was gone, but its purple fur was matted and clumped together.
Joe leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, studying his best friend. He’d lost weight, his face all sharp angles and planes now. At least what he could see of it. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks. A heavy beard covered the bottom half of his face. His hair was longer than Joe had ever seen it, curling down over his collar and falling into his eyes in the front.
“Hoss, you are about the sorriest sight I ever did see. You in the running for the world’s ugliest hermit?”
Tate’s gaze shifted to him then back down to the bear. “What are you doing here? If Buddy called you, you can just turn around and leave.”
Joe pushed away from the door. “Sure. I thought you might be interested to hear some news about Abby, but I guess I was wrong. See you later.”
“Wait!” Tate lurched to feet. “You talked to her? Where is she? Is she okay?”
Joe held up one hand. “Slow down. Why don’t we go downstairs and get a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you everything.”
“You’ll tell me now, damn it.”
“Fine.” He walked to the window and perched one hip on the sill. “I didn’t just talk to her. I went to visit her.”
Tate’s hands clenched and released the bear spasmodically. “How does she look? Is she eating? Is the baby okay?”
“She looked great. Gained quite a bit of weight in the last month, so I guess the baby is fine, too.” He looked down at the toe of his boot then back at Tate. “She got her diploma about a week after she left. Made the highest scores of the whole class. Didn’t take her long to find a job after that. She’s working in a little dress shop, practically running the place for the owner.”
“Where is she living?”
“She’s got a small apartment not far from where she works. It’s not real fancy, but it’s kind of cozy.”
Tate took a step toward him, his eyes pleading. “Joe, you have to tell me where she is. I can’t take this anymore.”
“You know I can’t do that. I gave her my word.” He hesitated. “I told her you were looking for her.”
“What did she say?”
Joe shrugged. “Not much. But she misses you. She made me tell her everything that was going on at the ranch. She seems sad, even when she smiles. And she wasn’t real happy to hear about the way you’ve been acting lately.”
“I have to see her.”
“Not right now, you don’t. Have you taken a good look in the mirror lately, Tate? You’d probably give her a heart attack. And knowing Abby, she’ll blame herself. She’s been through enough. Don’t add that to it. Take a little time, get yourself back in some kind of decent shape.”
“What good will that do, when I can’t find her?”
Joe pursed his lips and looked thoughtfully out the window. “Maybe you just haven’t tried hard enough. I suspect if you really started thinking straight, you might just come up with a way to find her.” He stood up and stared at Tate intently. “Not that many small towns around here.”
He headed out the door then paused. “It might interest you to know, Abby mentioned she
had a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Well, I think I’m gonna get that cup of coffee. I’ll be downstairs.”
* * * * *
The doctor. Tate stared at the bear then tossed it onto the rocking chair. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Joe was right. It was time to get a grip, time to take control of his life. And now he had a place to start. He might even see her tomorrow if he was lucky. But he was going to find Abby if it took another month.
Hope blossomed in his chest as he strode from the room, a plan of action forming in his mind. First a shave and shower, then something to eat. His stomach rumbled at the thought of food and he realized he was starved. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.
He slammed the bathroom door behind him then stared in shock at his reflection in the mirror. If anything, Joe had understated the way he looked. No wonder Buddy had been running him nuts. He looked half dead. His eyes were deep pits in his face, the beard only making them worse.
Pulling open a drawer, he took out his shaving equipment and set to work. He couldn’t do much about the weight loss right now, but he could get rid of the beard. Hair fell rapidly into the sink as he started to work with the scissors.
Abby. Excitement surged through him until his hands shook. Mouth dry, heart slamming into his throat, he leaned his forehead against the mirror. He was going to find her, see her again. Touch her, after he’d come so close to giving up hope.
Straightening, he lathered his face and dragged the razor over the stubble. The face that emerged was no longer his. His cheeks were sunken enough to make his chin seem squarer than normal and the cheek bones were more prominent without the extra padding of flesh.
The face looking back at him was his grandfather’s. Younger, maybe, but still the face he remembered. A shiver ran over him. He couldn’t think about it now. He had to concentrate on Abby and the baby.