Chapter Fifteen
Tate leaned back against the rail that ran around the front porch of Joe’s house, his arms hooked backwards over the top. Buddy’s Apache yell drifted back to them as the old Ford pickup careened down the drive. “Think he’ll make it home in one piece?”
Joe was on the porch, leaning over with his forearms braced on the wood next to Tate. “He’ll slow down when he gets to the highway. He’s just excited. Don’t you remember how it felt to get your first vehicle?”
Tate shook his head. “I don’t remember ever getting that excited about anything.” He grinned. At least not until this last week. Now it was starting to feel like he stayed that way. The ranch was going to go to hell in a handbasket if he and Abby didn’t slow down a little.
Not that he was complaining. He’d never been so relaxed in his life, so totally replete. They had made love at least twice a day since Monday and, each time, Abby lost a little more of her shyness, became a little bolder. And each time, he wanted her more than he had the time before.
It was strange, in a way. Sex was something he’d never really paid much attention to before. Oh, yeah, he’d always enjoyed it when it was forthcoming, but when it wasn’t, he hadn’t spent a lot time worrying about it. There had always been more than enough to keep him busy, keep his mind off the subject. Now, no matter what he was doing or how hard he was working, he couldn’t seem to think of anything else. He’d even started making up excuses to go back to the house during the day and, when he did, they usually wound up in bed yet again.
For the first time in his life he dreaded school letting out for the summer. It was going to be hell having Buddy underfoot all the time. Tate unhooked one arm and tilted the brim of his Resistol up. He supposed he’d just have to start getting more creative with his timing.
“Damn, Hoss. You look like the cat that fell in the cream bucket. Can I assume you aren’t going to be spending our usual Friday night at Delly’s tonight?”
“Yep.” Tate’s grin widened. Why would he go to Delly’s when he’d only gone there in the first place to see— His smile faded suddenly as confusion swept over him. That couldn’t be right. Could it? He’d been engaged to Diane, in love with her. He’d had no business, no right, to even notice another woman. Sure, he’d told Abby that he’d watched her, but that had just been to build up her confidence. It was impossible. His memory was just playing tricks on him because of the last week. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind.
“Is Abby still in one piece?” Joe nudged him slightly, grinning.
His own smile returned. “Abby is great. You’ll have to come over for dinner soon. You won’t believe her cooking.”
“Just name the day. You know I never turn down a meal.”
“How about Sunday?”
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Well,” Tate straightened. “Guess I better head on back and make sure Buddy actually got there.”
Joe seemed to hesitate, then took a deep breath. “Before you leave, there’s something you need to know.”
Tate turned to look at him curiously. Joe’s hat was pulled down low over his blond hair, shading his eyes from Tate’s view.
“I don’t know if this is the right time to tell you or not, but you’re gonna find out sooner or later anyway and I figure it’ll be better coming from me. Damn, Hoss. I’d rather be tied naked to a wild bronc than have to do this.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Joe studied the ground at Tate’s feet. “Diane married Clayton Caldwell.”
It felt as though someone had taken a sledge hammer to his guts. All the air went out of him and he stood frozen in place, trying to pull his shattered thoughts back together. “When?”
“Tuesday.”
Dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. “Why is this the first time I’ve heard about it?”
“Because everyone knew how you were gonna take the news. Do you think your friends and neighbors want to do that to you?”
“Does Buddy know?”
“Yeah, he knows.”
“Shit.” Tate leaned against the rail again, using it to support his suddenly shaking body. “Why, Joe? Why would she do something like this? She doesn’t love that slimy little weasel.”
“Hell, Hoss. Who knows why she ever does any of the things she does? Revenge? Greed? Attention? Take your pick. It could be any of a thousand things. And not one of them has to make sense.”
He dropped his forehead to his arms. “What am I going to do, Joe? This all my fault. She never would have married him if it hadn’t been for me.”
Anger tinged Joe’s voice and every line of his body when he pushed away from the rail. “Unless you’re even stupider than I gave you credit for being, you aren’t going to do a damn thing. You’ve got a wife that most men would kill for. One better than ten like Diane could ever be. You’ve got a baby on the way. You aren’t responsible for what Diane does. You never have been. Why the hell can’t you open your eyes and take a good look around you, Tate?” Joe yanked his hat off and banged it against his leg in agitation. “And I’m going to tell you something else while I’m at it. You’re like a brother to me. I’ve never been jealous of you a day in my life before. But I am now. You’ve got something I’ve only dreamed about and you’re too goddamned blind to see it. You better wake up, Tate, and do it fast before you lose it all.” He spun on his heel and went into the house, slamming the door behind him.
Stunned into immobility, Tate could only stare at the house in shock, wondering what had just happened. Joe was jealous of him? For being forced to marry a woman he didn’t love? He turned and walked to his truck, climbing under the wheel in a daze of confusion. It made no sense. None at all, unless…
Could Joe be in love with Abby? As he started the truck and headed down the driveway, Tate’s mind replayed every single time he’d seen them together. Now that he thought about it, Joe had danced with her more than he had at the party. At least twice. And it had looked as though he was teasing her. Abby had been laughing, anyway.
Not only that, but every time Joe had been to the ranch during the last two weeks he’d stopped in to chat with Abby. Tate’s teeth suddenly ground together. Why was it just now occurring to him that Joe was a damn good-looking man? Any woman would be attracted to his charm and that “good ol’ boy” act of his. Hell, Joe was better educated than any other ten people put together. Yet he’d seen it work before, and with women a lot more world-wise than Abby.
But Joe had never seemed to want anything permanent before. He’d just been in it for the fun, a “love ‘em and leave ‘em” kind of guy.
What if he’d been wrong about Joe all these years? What if Joe had only been looking for something special? Something he’d now found in Abby. A tiny spark of anger lit in Tate’s middle.
How could Joe do this to him? Especially now. Joe had known the news about Diane would tear him in half. All he needed added on to that was worry about his wife and his best friend.
Tate cursed softly. What the hell was wrong with him? Joe would never encroach on his territory, even if he were in love with Abby. He knew that. Didn’t he?
* * * * *
Abby stood on the front porch, anxiously watching for Tate’s truck. What was taking him so long? Buddy had been back for twenty minutes. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she saw the familiar blue truck coming toward her.
By the time he pulled up next to the house she was at the truck door almost hopping up and down. In her hurry to have him exit, she barely noted his grim expression.
“I’m so glad you’re back! I thought I was going to have to call Joe. It’s Sugar Baby. There’s something wrong with her. I went to the barn right after you left, looking for Dog, and she’s acting funny. Buddy’s with her now.”
He gave a curt nod and headed for the barn. Abby followed him, half-running to keep up. “Do you think she may be in labor?”
“That would be my guess.”
“Will she be okay?” She couldn’t keep the worry out of her voice. For some reason she found herself identifying with the beautiful bay mare more than she did the others.
“Should be. She’s had a couple of colts before with no problem.”
Buddy looked up as they entered the barn. He was leaning on the stall door calmly, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “She’s in labor.” He tilted his head at Sugar Baby.
“How far along?”
He arched an eyebrow at Tate. “Like I’m supposed to know? You’re the expert around here. No way am I sticking my hand in there.” He shuddered.
Abby couldn’t decide if he was serious or not until Tate started rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Her stomach flopped. Surely he wasn’t going to… Apparently, he was.
She watched as he washed all the way up his arms, then applied a rusty brown liquid to his right one. He stepped into the stall and moved around behind the mare.
“Hold her head, Buddy. She’s not going to be real happy about this.”
Buddy grabbed hold of the mare’s halter. “Okay, I got her.”
Tate vanished from Abby’s view briefly, then his head reappeared. Suddenly, Sugar Baby’s head jerked up, her eyes rolling back until the whites showed. Buddy was almost yanked off his feet as the mare squealed.
‘Not happy’ was an understatement as far as Abby was concerned. And she didn’t blame the mare a bit. She wasn’t feeling too great herself right now and all she’d had to do was watch.
Tate stepped back into view and moved to the mare’s head, talking to her in a low soothing voice. She continued to shift restlessly, but Abby could see her visibly calm.
“Well?”
“She’s getting there.” Tate glanced at Buddy before washing his hands again. “Probably been in labor most of the day, but it could still be a few hours yet.”
Abby couldn’t stand it another minute. “Shouldn’t I go call a vet?”
Buddy and Tate both turned around to look at her. “What for?” Tate looked surprised that she’d even thought of it. “He’d only have to stand around and wait with the rest of us. And chances are, we won’t even need him. Sugar knows what to do.”
“Well, isn’t there something I can do?”
He studied her for a second. “We could use some coffee. It may be a long night.”
“I’ll go make some right now.” Abby turned and sped from the barn. Taking the back steps in one leap, she slammed through the door into the kitchen and skidded to a stop in front of the coffeemaker. It might be easier if she took the coffeemaker back to the barn with her. Then she wouldn’t have to run back and forth all night to make more.
Unplugging the appliance, she tucked it under her arm, gathered up some mugs and grabbed the coffee, a grin turning up the corners of her mouth. She was actually going to get to see Sugar have her baby. Excitement coursed through her as she ran back toward the barn.
Just as she reached the door, Tate’s voice, tight and low with anger hit her.
“You’re my brother, Buddy. How the hell could you not tell me?”
Buddy’s face was set in stubborn lines. “Because it shouldn’t matter to you anymore if Diane gets married.” He threw his hands up in the air as Abby stood frozen. “What could you have done if I had told you? By the time I found out it was already over with.”
The coffee can slid from Abby’s numb fingers and clattered to the floor.
Both of them spun to stare at her and she heard a low curse escape from Tate’s lips.
Buddy glared at him. “I hope you’re happy,” he hissed at his brother. “I’m going to the house. Right now I don’t want to even look at you.”
Abby took a deep breath and picked up the coffee just as Buddy paused on his way out. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Abby.”
His voice was pitched for her ears alone and she gave him a wan smile. “It’s okay. Really.” She continued into the barn, put the coffeemaker on a barrel and plugged it in, refusing to look at Tate while she set the mugs out. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Silence reigned in the barn while she got the water and prepared the coffee. When it started brewing, she sat down on a bale of hay, her gaze fixed on the mare. “How is she?”
Tate finally moved. “The same.” He took off his hat and hung it on a nail at the end of the stall before sitting down next to her. With his elbows propped on his knees, he ran a hand through his hair.
“Abby, I’m sorry.”
“Why? I would have heard about it sooner or later.”
“I know that. It’s just that I didn’t want you to—”
“You didn’t want me to know it upset you?” she interrupted. Abby shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay, Tate. You have every reason to be upset.” And she had no reason at all for the crushing pain in her chest. Even after the last wonderful week, how had she dared let herself forget for even one minute that he’d married her because he thought he had to?
Tate was rubbing his face tiredly. “I just wish I knew what the hell I was upset about,” he muttered in answer to her last statement. He dropped his hands. “I admit, finding out about Diane was a shock. But Buddy was right. What she does is none of my business anymore. Even if I’d known what she was planning, I wouldn’t have tried to stop her.”
Abby forced herself not to flinch when he reached for her hand.
“Abby,” he shook his head and started again. “I think we’ve managed to get a good start on making this marriage work during the last week. Don’t let this ruin it for us.”
Abby opened her hand and turned it to grip his. “I won’t, Tate. Will you?” For a moment the silence deepened again and her heart almost stopped beating.
“No.” His answer was so quiet she had to strain to hear it. “I won’t.”
Blessed relief flowed through her. She still had time and, maybe with Diane safely married she wouldn’t have to leave at all. Her life had changed so drastically in the last few weeks that most of the time she was sure it was all a dream. She kept expecting to wake up and find herself back in that tiny shack, alone and broke and scared half to death. And it would be so much worse now than it had before. Now, she would know exactly what she was missing.
She glanced sideways at Tate. He was staring at their joined hands intently, almost as if it were the first time he’d ever seen them. His hair, rumpled from the hat he’d removed, tumbled down onto his forehead, obscuring his eyebrows. His chin and jaw were covered with dark stubble, his mouth set in a tight line. He looked worried, Abby decided. About Diane?
She couldn’t stop the tiny sigh that escaped her lips. It had been foolish to let her guard down, but she couldn’t seem to help it. The closer they got, the more she seemed to lose control of her feelings. It was getting harder every day to hide her love for him. But somehow, she had to.
Abby suddenly realized that he’d looked up, was studying her face almost as intently as he had their hands.
“I invited Joe to dinner Sunday.”
She nodded, still involved with her own thoughts.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
Her gaze met his, puzzled. “Why would I mind? I’ll be cooking anyway. One more doesn’t matter.” She pulled her hand away from his and went to the coffeemaker. Pouring a cup, she brought it back and handed it to him.
He took it, then sat it on the bale next to him. To Abby’s surprise, he tugged her down onto his lap, his arms around her waist. For a split second she fought the urge to lean into him, then gave up and rested her head on his chest.
“Do you like Joe?”
“Of course. He’s very nice.” Was Tate afraid she wouldn’t like his friends? “Everyone I’ve met since I’ve been here has been nice.” She put her hand on Tate’s arm, loving the feel of the hard muscles under her fingers. A smile curved her lips when those muscles flexed in reaction.
He lowered his chin to the top of her head. “You know, I’ve always wondered what women see in Joe. Seems like there’s about a dozen chasing him all the time.”
Abby shrugged lightly, concentrating on letting her fingers slid up and down his arm. “He’s good-looking, funny, charming. I guess Joe has a lot to offer a woman.”
Tate stood up so fast he almost dumped her in the floor and she would have sworn she heard his teeth grinding together.
“I need to check on Sugar again,” he mumbled.
Her attention was immediately diverted to the mare and she leaned on the stall door as Tate ran his hands down the restless horse’s side. Sugar tried to shift away from him, but he held her bridle, murmuring in that low voice.
“How is she?”
Tate kept his hand on the mare’s side. “Looks like it’s going faster than I thought it would. Contractions are coming one right after the other.”
“She’s having it now?”
He glanced at Abby over his shoulder. “Soon, anyway. Probably in the next thirty minutes.”
“How do you know so much about this? Just from experience?”
“Partially.” He left the mare and moved closer to Abby. “My undergraduate degree was in pre-veterinarian medicine. I managed to get in a year of veterinary school before I quit.”
Abby gaped at him. “You were going to be a vet?”
Tate kept his gaze on the mare. “That was the plan.”
“Why did you quit?”
“Lots of reasons.” He suddenly seemed almost as uncomfortable as the mare. “Mom died about that time and Dad needed me back here. So did Buddy.”
She could almost hear what he wasn’t saying. Diane hadn’t wanted him that far away. After all, how could she manipulate him if he weren’t around to let her? A spark of anger lit inside Abby. How could he love that woman so much when she treated him the way she did?
She stared at Tate’s profile. The man might be exceptionally smart about most things, but she was beginning to wonder if he didn’t have a purely stupid side to him, too. Either that, or he had deliberately blinded himself to what Diane was really like.
Suddenly, the mare turned in a circle and clumsily folded her front legs, lowering her body to the floor. Her neck stiffened and her whole body tensed as she pushed.
Tate moved away from the stall door, then knelt behind her.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah.” He sounded preoccupied. “Talk to her. Keep her calm.”
Abby hesitated only an instant before slipping into the stall and dropping by Sugar’s head. She stroked the satiny, sweat-covered neck softly, murmuring quiet encouragement to the mare.
“Here come its feet. The front ones, thank God.”
She twisted around to get a better view then sucked in a breath of air, awe sending chills over her. Two tiny little feet protruded from Sugar’s backside. Even as she watched, Sugar pushed again and a delicate nose appeared, followed rapidly by the rest of the head. Then, in a rush of fluid, the foal plopped wetly onto the straw, Tate supporting him.
Abby didn’t realize tears were pouring down her cheeks, was so involved watching the birth that Sugar knocked her over when the horse lurched to her feet. As the mare turned and lowered her head to the new baby, nudging it with her nose, Tate glanced at Abby.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she sniffed, wiping her cheeks.
He smiled at her. “No matter how many times you see it, it never gets old.”
“She’s so beautiful.”
“He. It’s a colt.” Tate stood and assisted the wobbly-legged baby to its feet, helping Sugar guide him to his first meal. As soon as the colt latched on, Tate moved to Abby’s side, his gaze on the tiny tail that was twitching enthusiastically. “He looks more like Cody than he does his mama, except for that white blaze down his nose.”
“Cody’s black?” Abby had yet to see the stud since Tate kept him away from the mares most of the year.
“Solid black.” He extended his hand and helped Abby rise. “I think we’ll keep this one. By the time our baby’s old enough to ride, I’ll have him trained and ready.”
Abby felt tears welling up again but forced them back. “What are you going to name him?”
He looked down at her, his blue eyes filled with a smile. “Why don’t you name him?”
“Me?” Her mind went blank.
Tate wrapped his arms around her, tugging her tightly to his body. “There’s no rush. Think about it for a while.” His lips brushed her hair. “What do you say we go to the house and let these two have some time to get acquainted?”
“Sounds like a good idea to me.” She smiled up at him.