Chapter Three
“Crazy?” He shook his head. “No. It’s the only logical thing to do. Take a look around. Dishes need washing, clothes are dirty, there’s dust an inch thick on everything. Buddy and I need someone to help out around here. Right now, I spend half my time taking care of things in the house when I should be working on the ranch and I’m barely scratching the surface.”
Abby stared at his back while he got a towel and mopped up the juice. Her stomach was roiling again, but this time morning sickness wasn’t to blame.
“To tell the truth, you’d be doing us a favor. I sure can’t afford to hire anyone.” He tossed the towel at the sink and sat back down.
“And there’s something else. That’s my baby you’re carrying. I’m going to take care of you no matter what you decide to do. If you don’t want to marry me, then I’m going to help you with your rent, food and doctor bills. It’ll put a big strain on the ranch, trying to support two households, but I’ll do it somehow. It would make things a lot easier if you lived here.”She heard him. The words even made sense. But a strange buzzing filled her head, questions spinning too fast to utter. Only one thing stood out clearly from her confused thoughts. He’d said they needed her. It wouldn’t be charity. She’d actually be helping him. And yet…
“What would your brother think?” It wasn’t what she really wanted to know but it was a place to start.
Tate shrugged. “I’ll tell him what’s going on. Buddy’s pretty smart. He’ll understand.” He looked pensive for a moment. “I think he’s missed having a woman around since Mom died. Having you here will be good for him.”
Abby took a deep breath and forced the next question out. “Aren’t you forgetting something? You’re already engaged. It might be a little difficult to carry on a courtship with a wife at home.”
He looked down at the table but not before Abby saw the flash of pain that crossed his face.
“I’m not engaged.” His voice was so low she had to strain to hear him. “But even if I were it wouldn’t matter now. She’s out of town for two weeks. As soon as she gets back I’ll tell her.”
Anger mixed with pain inside Abby, for both her and Tate. “Do you really think I’m going to let you do this? You’re in love with her. Everyone in this town knows it. So what if she called the engagement off again? She does it every other day. We both know she’ll come running right back to you. This…” She put her hand over her stomach. “This was an accident. It never should have happened. I’m not going to let you ruin your life because of it. Maybe I don’t know how yet, but I’ll manage things on my own. I always have before.”
She picked up the bag again. A drop of juice trickled down one side, leaving a dark stain in its wake. “Please, just take me home and forget this whole thing. Marry Diane like you want to.”
“No.” He leaned across the table and grabbed her wrist with one big hand. “I told you, that’s my baby, my blood. I wasn’t raised to ignore my responsibilities whether they were caused by accident or not. No matter what you do, it’ll be over with Diane as soon as I tell her. And I will tell her, Abby. I’m not going to ignore any baby of mine. So what if my life isn’t turning out exactly the way I’d planned? It’s not ruined, it’ll just be different.”
Abby twisted her arm out of his grasp and rubbed it, but apparently he wasn’t done yet.
“You can be selfish if you want, and make me spend money I can’t afford to help you, or you can make things easy on both of us and help me out at the same time.” He paused. “Do you really want the baby growing up a bastard?”
The word ripped through her, dredging up painful memories from her own childhood. Voices that taunted her before she was old enough to know what the word meant. Her eyes closed with the force of remembered pain. Was her pride worth letting her own child suffer the same torment? Especially when she’d know she could have prevented it?
A fierce surge of protectiveness swept over her. Suddenly Tate’s ruined plans didn’t matter. Nor did her pride. The only thing that mattered was the tiny life growing inside her. It had to come first, before either of them.
Abby opened her eyes and looked at him. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you.”
* * * * *
The barn door leading to the pasture was standing open when Tate got there, every stall filled with a contentedly munching horse. Dust flew into the air from the far end of the building and he could hear Buddy whistling.
Pausing only long enough to grab a curry comb and brush, he went to the stall next to Buddy’s and started working. The mare was a sorrel, one they’d had for years, and she continued eating, only the tilting of her ears indicating she was aware of his presence.
The whistling had stopped as soon as Tate appeared and for a while they worked in silence.
“Diamond’s been rolling in the mud down by the creek again,” his brother commented.
Tate nodded. “She always does when the weather starts getting hot. Cools her off.”
“Yeah, but it’s heck getting the mud out of her coat.”
“Maybe you should just hose her down first.” He hesitated then cleared his throat. He’d told Abby that Buddy would understand. He could only pray it had been the truth. “The person you heard upstairs this morning is Abby Grayson. We’re getting married Monday as soon as we can get the license from the courthouse in Austin.”
The curry comb came to an abrupt halt and Buddy’s head appeared over Diamond’s back. “Abby Grayson?” His face reflected his shock. “You’re marrying Abby Grayson?”
“You know her?”
“Not exactly. I mean, I’ve seen her around town, but we’ve never met.” His tone was decidedly uneasy now. “It’s just that I’ve heard some of the guys at school talking about her.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear.”
Buddy’s curry comb started moving again. “I don’t. But sometimes it’s hard not to. She’s pregnant, isn’t she? That’s what all the throwing up was about.”
“Yes.” Tate gave up all pretense of grooming the mare and leaned against the side of the stall. “And before you ask, it’s mine.”
“How do you know?”
He looked down at the serrated metal edges of the tool he was still holding. “Because I’m the only one she’s ever slept with. She was a virgin, Buddy. I know this is all happening kind of fast, but I’d appreciate it if you could at least try to treat her decent. She doesn’t have anyone else.”
The only sound in the barn was the swishing of tails and the occasional stomp of a hoof. From somewhere near the door a horse snorted.
“When is she moving in?”
“I thought we’d run into town this afternoon and pick up her things. She’ll be staying in Mom’s and Dad’s room.”
“Need any help?”
It felt as if a giant fist was squeezing his heart and it took him a second to answer. “Sure. I can always use an extra hand.”
Buddy nodded thoughtfully. “You know, it might be kind of nice to have a baby around the house.” He glanced at Tate again. “I just hope to hell it looks like her, ‘cause I’d hate to have a niece as ugly as you are.”
Tate grinned and leaned over the stall partition to cram his brother’s hat down around his ears. “Since we look just alike, doesn’t say much for you, does it? Besides, it may be a boy.”
“Either way, at least you’ll have somebody else to boss around. Maybe I’ll get a break.”
“Don’t count on it. Have you done your homework yet?”
“Oh, for gosh sakes, Tate. It’s Saturday. I’ve got all day tomorrow to get it done.”
“Just make sure you do. There are only three weeks of school left this year and I don’t want to see any failing grades when you bring that report card home.”
“You won’t. I always make good grades.”
Tate went back to grooming the mare. “Buddy? How would you like to be my best man?”
“Sure, but I thought I already was.”
The curry comb sailed over the stall and Buddy dodged, laughing.
Tate smiled. “Come on. Lets get done here and then we can go to the house so you can meet Abby.”
* * * * *
Abby sat at the kitchen table and watched Tate through the back door as far as she could see him. Her husband. He was going to be her husband. She rolled the word over in her mind, wondering if it sounded this strange to everyone. “Hus-band.” The syllables sounded even worse when she said them out loud. She lifted one hand to her forehead. She must have a fever. Things like this didn’t happen to her.
Getting married was something she’d never thought about. But then, she hadn’t thought about having a baby either. Every day had been such a struggle to survive that she didn’t think about much past getting her diploma. Until last week that had been her only goal.
She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to do this. Her gaze swept the room. A real house, with decent furniture, a stove that actually had four working burners, and even a fireplace. And she got to live in it. At least for a while.
He hadn’t said how long this was supposed to last. Maybe after the baby was born he’d get a divorce and get on with his life. That gave her about nine months, assuming he’d give her time to recover from the birth. By then she could finish her studies and get her G.E.D.
And in the meantime, she’d have a job. She wouldn’t have to worry about her next meal, or stay terrified that something would happen to the baby without medical attention. He was going to take care of that. Her glance landed on the dirty dishes and she jumped to her feet, the paper bag that had been in her lap falling unnoticed to the floor.
Emptying the sink took only a moment. She found the stopper and detergent in the cabinet beneath it, and a clean cloth in a drawer to one side. Soon, the draining board was full of sparkling glasses.
The floor next, she decided, but she needed a broom. There was a door near the one that led outside and she pulled on the porcelain knob to open it. Her eyes widened. It was a pantry and it was stocked full of food from top to bottom. More food than she’d ever seen in any place except the grocery store.
The room was rich with the scent of spices and apples and she inhaled deeply. For people who didn’t cook, they sure kept a lot of food on hand.
The smell of apples was coming from an open bag on the middle shelf. Her mouth watered at the sight of the crisp green skins. Surely they wouldn’t miss just one? She picked the smallest in the sack and held it to her nose an instant before sinking her teeth into it. The flavor was tart and sweet at the same time and juice dribbled down her chin.
She was just about to take another bite when the back door flew open. It hit the pantry door, slamming it shut and leaving Abby in total darkness. Panicked, she crammed the apple to the back of the shelf.
“Abby?”
It was Tate’s voice and she cracked the door open, peering out through the slit. He was looking into the living room, a younger version of Tate standing right behind him. She pushed the door open all the way, heat flushing her face. They both turned as the pantry door squeaked.
Tate’s gaze ran over her. “I see you found the pantry. Sorry it’s not full. We can stop at the grocery store while we’re in town.”
Was he joking? There was enough food in there to last her a year. “I was just looking for a broom.” She almost stammered the words in her embarrassment.
“It’s in the utility room. And there’s a freezer on the back porch full of meat.” His gaze shifted to the clean dishes then back to her. “I didn’t mean you had to start working right now.”
She gave a tiny shrug, well aware of the boy staring at her from Tate’s side.
“Abby, this is my brother, Buddy. Buddy, this is Abby.”
“Hi.” He grinned at her. “Now that we’ve gotten the amenities out of the way, can you cook?”
In spite of her nervousness, Abby couldn’t stop herself from responding to him. “Yes.”
“Thank God,” he staggered dramatically. “We’re saved.”
Tate rolled his eyes. “You’ll find out real fast that Buddy’s main concern in life is his stomach. He’s going to help us get you moved in. Do you know how many boxes you’ll need?”
“Not many. Mostly, it’s just my clothes.”
He nodded. “Ready to go?”
She had to try one more time. “Are you sure about this?”
His blue eyes met hers steadily. “I’m sure.”
“Then I guess I’m ready.”
* * * * *
Abby sat with elbows tucked into her sides, hands clasped in her lap and feet planted firmly together, but she still felt squashed between the two males in the cab of the pickup. Both were totally relaxed as they talked over her head about ranch work. She listened with half an ear and tried to make herself even smaller.
It wasn’t working. On either side of her, a long male leg pressed against hers. Buddy’s she could kind of ignore. Tate’s was a different matter all together. Every time he changed speeds she could feel the flex of muscles that tightened the denim of his jeans.
She studied as much of him as she could see without turning her head. The foot on the accelerator was encased in a scruffy black boot that looked like it had seen better days. A bit of mud clung to the outside of the sole. The hem of his jeans flared a little where they brushed the top of the leather, and then narrowed where they hugged his calf snugly just below his knee.
His thighs looked rock-hard and she wondered if there would be any give in them if she were to poke him with a finger. The thought brought an instant surge of heat to her face. She’d had one chance to find out, but as much as she’d wanted to, she’d been too scared to do it. There wasn’t likely to be another opportunity. He’d made it clear this morning that she was going to stay in the room she’d slept in last night, even after they were married.
Not that she minded. He was a stranger to her, in spite of what had happened between them. And while the kissing had been okay, what followed had been very painful. At least, it had for a little while. It was just starting to feel kind of nice when suddenly it was all over with. She wasn’t naive enough to believe it would be like that every time—she even knew why it had hurt—but the idea still made her uncomfortable. Touching him made her uncomfortable, set her stomach to roiling again. Gently, she tried to ease her leg away from him. It didn’t help. His hip was still pressed against hers.
With a tiny sigh Abby concentrated on where they were. Tate had decided to stop at the grocery store first so they could pick up some empty boxes along with the food. And hadn’t that been an experience? She’d followed them around the store, virtually in shock as they randomly tossed items into the basket with no thought to the price. At the checkout counter, she’d cringed when the total came to almost a hundred dollars, but Tate hadn’t batted an eye. He’d just paid it and they’d loaded it into the truck under the watchful eyes of the cashier. From her expression, Abby had no doubt the girl was itching to spread the news that Tate McCullom had been grocery shopping with the town whore.
She glanced up at his face, wondering if he’d been as embarrassed as she had. Not so much for herself—she was used to it after all—but for him. His left elbow was propped on the open truck window, his right hand on the steering wheel. He looked down at her, his blue eyes meeting hers briefly, then back to the road, slowing as he turned onto her street. If he felt anything at all about the situation, she couldn’t tell it from looking at him. His rough, chiseled features maintained the same stoic appearance they had from the start.
Nervously, she unclasped her hands and wiped her sweat dampened palms on her knees as the truck came to a halt and both Buddy and Tate climbed out. Indecision as to which way to go hit her, but Tate was holding his door open, waiting. She slid under the steering wheel and stepped out, feeling tiny and delicate next to him.
The door closed behind her. “Sure you won’t need more boxes than this?”
Abby glanced at the stack in the back of the truck. “No, that’s plenty.” More than plenty. She didn’t think she could fill half of what they had.
Buddy grabbed an armload of boxes from one side of the truck and Tate lifted more from the other, leaving Abby with nothing to do but follow them inside.
“What goes from the kitchen?” Buddy had paused in the door.
“Just the dishes.” And not many of those, she thought. Only the ones she’d kept after her mother died.
The teenager nodded. “I’ll start in there.”
Tate was still standing in the middle of the living room, looking around.
“None of this belongs to me, so it can stay here.” She tugged a box out his hand. “I’ll go pack my clothes.”
She hadn’t realized he’d followed her until he dropped the rest of the boxes on the floor. Silently, she opened drawers and put the contents into a box. It didn’t take long to empty them.
“Are the bed linens yours?”
“Yes.” She’d bought them at a rummage sale a year ago. The pink flowers on the sheets were faded, but the material was still serviceable. They were the only set she had.
She moved to the closet, keeping one eye on Tate. He had folded the chenille bedspread and the blanket, and put them in a box. The pillow followed, then he reached down and pulled the top sheet off. Suddenly he froze, his gaze fastened on the bed.
Abby took a step away from the closet to see what had captured his attention. When she did, it felt as though every drop of blood drained from her body. She had tried to get the stain out, she really had. As soon as he’d left that night, she’d yanked the sheets off the bed and scrubbed at the spot of blood until her fingers hurt. But in spite of her efforts, a faint brown outline remained.
Even if she could have thought of something to say, she didn’t have time. Tate raised his eyes and stared at her, an unidentifiable emotion in their crystal depths.
He turned away abruptly, stooping to pick up the box she’d already filled.
“I’ll take this one to the truck.” His voice sounded choked and harsh and Abby cringed inside. As soon as he was out of the room, she grabbed the sheets and crammed them to the bottom of another box.
* * * * *
What was wrong with him? Tate tossed the box of clothing into the back then leaned against the truck. Had he gone crazy?
He’d known what the stain was the instant he’d seen it. If he’d really thought about it, he might even have expected it to be there. What he hadn’t expected was the barrage of images it had set off in his mind. Actually, they were more impressions than images. The feel of silky smooth skin under his hands. The softness of her hair. The clean smell of soap. The way her lips had moved under his, so damn innocent, so sweet.
He groaned and dropped his forehead onto the cool metal in front of him. When the sensations had swept over him in the bedroom, his erection had been instantaneous and painful.
God. He was crazy. It was Diane he wanted, not some stranger he’d slept with one time. It had to be the virgin thing, he decided. Some primitive, testosterone-crazed part of him seemed to take control every time he thought about it. And he’d been thinking about it a lot. Every night for the last six weeks to be exact. Always with the same reaction he’d just had.
He’d never taken a woman’s virginity before so he had no idea if the emotion was unique or not, no basis for comparison. He’d never even really thought about it. Lord knows, Diane had been no virgin. Deep down, he doubted she ever had been. It hadn’t mattered. She more than made up in skill what she’d lacked in innocence. And yet there was something about Abby that drew him, something he couldn’t fight—
“Hey, I thought I was helping, not doing it all.”
Tate raised his head and looked at his brother. “I was just checking the tire. Thought it might be a little low.”
Buddy walked around the truck and glanced down. “Looks fine to me. Come on, Abby is almost done.”
Tate looked toward the house with trepidation, then nodded. “Right behind you.”