All of My Love (7 page)

“Me either,” tsked the woman with her. “They made a fool out of poor Paul.”

“Francine, it’s none of our business,” one of the men said. “We’re here for a nice dinner.”

“I agree,” said the other man. “Some marriages just don’t last for one reason or another.”

“Not if the woman sleeps with—”

“That’s enough!” Paul snapped and advanced on the gossiping women. He was so angry he was shaking. He recognized the women. Both were notorious gossips.

The well-dressed women gasped and swung around, then looked anywhere except at Paul as if they didn’t know if they wanted to run or shrink in embarrassment.

“Paul—” one of the men began.

One hard look from Paul silenced him.

“What right do you have to be so sanctimonious and then dare dine at our restaurant?” He stepped closer. “Or did you conveniently forget this is a family-owned hotel? Stella will always be a part of this establishment.”

“Paul.” Stella caught his arm. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not,” he said without looking at her. “Francine and Doris, you are no longer welcome on our property tonight or ever again. I’m giving your names to the staff with strict orders if you come here again to call security to escort you off.”

“No, you can’t,” Francine pleaded.

“Please don’t,” Doris begged.

“You should have thought of that before.” Paul spoke to the men. “James, David, you’re welcome anytime.”

Paul turned his back on the crying women and took Stella’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“Please, Paul,” pleaded Francine, the woman who had spoken first. “Our daughter’s wedding reception is scheduled here in June.”

“And you’ll have to explain to her why you won’t be here.” Paul tried to get Stella moving, but it was useless. He glanced from the concern in her face to the crying women. “They wouldn’t give you another chance.”

“I’m not them,” Stella said quietly.

The truth of her statement hit him. She’d never been petty, jealous, or gossipy, as the other women obviously were. He’d gone fishing and played cards with their husbands. As far as he knew, Stella had never called the women friends.

“As Paul said, I still have a voice in the running of Casa de Serenidad. I fondly remember Faith’s wedding and her beautiful reception here.” Stella’s gaze met Francine’s. “However, as executive manager of Casa de Serenidad, Faith has the last word and she dotes on her father.”

Francine cried harder.

“She also loves her mother and if I recall, has always spoken fondly of Jessica,” Stella went on to say. “Francine, you’re welcome here, and so are you, Doris.”

“Thank you,” the two women chorused.

James extended his hand to Paul and Stella. “Please accept my apology. Thank you, Stella, for being so gracious.” He looked at his wife. “If I ever hear you say one word about Stella or gossip about anyone else again, I’ll tell Jessica exactly what happened here tonight. Come on, we’re going home. I’ve lost my appetite.” Head downcast, Francine hurried after him.

David looked at his wife. “Doris?”

“Please accept my apology,” she said tightly.

“Stella might, but after embarrassing me one time too many, I’m not sure I can.” David extended his hand to Paul. “Good seeing you again. I still own the barbershop and like to fish. Call me if you have a chance.”

The handshake was firm. “I will.”

“Good night.” David glanced at his wife. “It will be a long time before I take you out to dinner again.”

“David, we go out to dinner at least once a wee—” she began, but her husband walked away. Head tucked, she quickly went after him.

“I’ll say good night,” Stella said.

“Why?” He said one succinct word.

“Because what I did was wrong,” she said. “They don’t know the details, so they assume the worst.”

Paul had as well. He’d almost gone crazy at the thought of her sleeping with another man while they were married. He wasn’t much saner once she’d married the snake.

“Thank you for walking me back, and for speaking up for me.” Her smile trembled. “I didn’t expect either.”

She walked away. He was pleased to see her back straight, her head up. “Don’t forget your gear tomorrow.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, a big smile on her face. “I won’t. Thanks again.”

Paul smiled after her, then he frowned and headed for his room. He needed to speak with Ruth. The idea that women were gossiping about Stella, and she apparently knew it and came back to Santa Fe anyway, made his heart clench for her.

CHAPTER SIX

Thankfully he had Ruth’s cell and home phone numbers. She answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ruth. It’s Paul,” he greeted, pacing in front of the kava fireplace in his hotel suite. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but something just happened and I needed to speak with you about it.”

“Is everyone all right?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“Physically, yes.” He explained about him and Stella overhearing Francine and Doris gossip about her. “I don’t think this was the first time she’s been subjected to that kind of talk.”

“Sadly, it probably isn’t,” Ruth told him. “Unfortunately, there will always be people who judge others, but never take a good look at themselves.”

He had to ask. “Why did you remain her friend?”

“Because she is my friend and, despite what happened between you and Stella, your children never stopped loving her,” Ruth said. “That said a lot about her character and the kind of mother she was.”

“It didn’t stop other people,” he said, his anger escalating.

“It’s not my place to judge. I have too much going on in my own life to gossip. I might interfere in my children’s lives and a few others, but it’s out of a deep love and respect for them,” she said. “Stella loves her family.”

Her family. Not just her children. Ruth had included
him.

“Paul, she took a wrong turn, recognized it, and is trying to get back to where her heart and her soul will be at peace once again.”

With him. He stopped pacing. “I—”

“Paul, you’re a good man. You were a good role model for Brandon, who didn’t have a father. I felt comfortable with him being at your home so much, sleeping over, going fishing and hunting with you and your boys. He always returned home happy,” Ruth said quietly. “Now, he has Faith and they’re blissfully ecstatic. You and Stella’s love gave him his heart’s desire. I’d like to see both of you find the contentment and love you found only with each other.”

Paul rubbed the back of his neck. No wonder her children were so strong, independent, and successful. Their mother didn’t pull her punches. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Who says?” Ruth quickly came back. “Strong people with the guidance of God and the Master of Breath shape their own destiny, shape their own lives. They don’t let life shape them. You took a hard knock, so did I when I lost Vincent. Nothing would have kept us apart if the choice hadn’t been taken from us. You have another chance. I’d give anything if that were possible for me.”

Paul’s throat felt tight. Ruth didn’t have to bare her soul to him. She’d done so to help him and give him a swift kick and a strong dose of reality. “Vincent must have been a wonderful man.”

“He was. Luke reminds me of Vincent so much. I’m blessed to have the children.”

Paul heard what she didn’t say, because he’d felt the same thing. You loved your children, but they didn’t make up for the loss of a spouse or replace a spouse. “Good night, Ruth, and thanks.”

“Thank me by talking, really talking, to Stella tomorrow,” she told him. “You might be surprised by what you learn.”

“I just might do that. Good night.”

“Good night, Paul.”

Paul ended the call and just stood there. He’d blamed and judged as well. Maybe it was time to ask the tough questions and face what would surely be the even tougher answers.

*   *   *

For the first time in months, Stella slept peacefully. The second the alarm clock went off, she was out of bed and headed to the shower. She wasn’t sure what the day with Paul would be like, but she wasn’t afraid anymore. He’d stood up for her last night when he didn’t have to. She just hoped and prayed they could build on that as they worked to finish by Mother’s Day.

She swallowed as a long-forgotten memory slipped into her mind. After Duncan was born, no matter what other gift Paul might give her for Mother’s Day, that night she’d always find a single red rose and a box of gourmet chocolates on her pillow. This year she’d settle for not seeing scorn on his face or hearing it in his voice.

Less than thirty-five minutes later after a quick breakfast, Stella parked her rental behind Paul’s truck and got out. She opened the trunk and reached for the hard-shell ice chest.

“I’ll get that.”

She jumped, then smiled as Paul quickly reached her. “Good morning. Thank you.” He must have been watching for her. “Henri prepared lunch for us.”

Paul picked up the ice chest. “Don’t forget your gear.”

Stella patted her large handbag. “It’s all in here. I’m wearing hard-sole shoes. I’m ready to help.”

He stared at her for a few seconds then started back up the walkway. Stella followed. She knew that pensive look. He was thinking about something. She couldn’t tell if it was about them or something else. In the past, he’d liked to work things out on his own.

She followed him back inside and removed her gear from her purse. She frowned. It was too quiet. Her goggles on top of her head, her mask around her neck, she went to the kitchen. Paul leaned against the shell of the counter. “You got a lot done.”

“I think we should talk,” he said.

Her heart thumped in her chest. This could be the beginning or the end for them. “All right.”

He pushed away from the cabinet, glanced around. “You can sit on the cooler.”

“Thank you, but I’m too nervous to sit,” she answered and received a startled look from him. “I want to be honest with you, Paul. I threw away my life with you for an illusion of love and happiness. By the time I realized it, it was too late.”

“Why?”

“Why did I believe him?” she asked.

“Why did you leave me?” he barked, his dark eyes blazing with fury and pain. “What did he give you that I couldn’t?”

Her hands clenched. Her eyes closed. She didn’t want to hurt him.

“Tell me!”

Her eyes snapped open. They’d never begin to heal until everything was out in the open. “You were always busy with running the hotel. We never seemed to have any time for ourselves. You barely noticed me anymore. I was afraid of losing you and decided to make you jealous so you’d pay more attention to me, talk to me the way you used to.” She swallowed. “It got out of control somehow as we drifted further apart and you shut me out more.”

“I was busy trying to keep the hotel profitable.” He shoved his hand over his head. “Grandfather always said how easy it was for a McBride male to make money. It wasn’t that way for me. I didn’t want to fail you or the generations before me. I didn’t want you to know how scared I was that I’d be the first McBride male to fail.”

“Paul.” She went to him. “I’m sorry you couldn’t confide in me. Even sorrier that I didn’t lock us in a room and tell you how miserable and lonely I was. I ran away from our problems instead of facing them. I failed us.”

“I did, too,” he admitted. “I have to share the blame. I ought to have remembered how we always worked together, shared everything. I should have never put the hotel above our marriage.”

“And I should have been more sensitive, instead I started thinking you didn’t care.” She moved away from him. “I listened to Trevor saying the only reason you wanted me was to work, and later because another man did, that if you loved me, you’d be as attentive as he was. He’d proven his love and devotion by not pushing for us to be intimate until after we were married because he wanted to spend a lifetime with me.”

“The conniving bastard,” Paul spat. “I was lost without you.”

“The same way I was without you.” Stella faced Paul. “The marriage never felt right. I really tried, but I didn’t fit in with his friends or their lifestyles. Trevor liked to tell his friends that he had to marry me to get me into bed. He thought it was funny. I cringed each time he told it.” She shook her head.

“He was a different man in New York than he was here. In Santa Fe he appeared to be his own man, but there he was always worried about what other people thought, always trying to make sure he remained on the A-list, that he threw the best parties, had the best wine cellar. Frankly, I was surprised the marriage lasted as long as it did,” Stella conceded.

“You tossed away everything for that?”

She looked Paul straight into his eyes, saw the pain, hoped he saw hers. “Yes, for a cheap illusion of happiness when I had the real thing with you all along—if I had been strong enough to fight for it.”

“What’s to keep you from running after another illusion?” Paul asked.

“You,” she answered simply. “Me. I hurt you in too many ways to imagine. I can only ask your forgiveness and tell you that my feet are planted firmly on the ground. I know who I am and what I want.”

“Do you?” he taunted. “Sometimes you acted as if you’d shatter when I said something to you.”

“Because I was ashamed,” she confessed. “I still am, but I finally realized with a little help from a friend, that you have the right to say what you feel, to see how I feel, to know that I not only messed up your life, I messed up mine as well.”

“Ruth.”

“Yes. So if you need to vent, I’m not promising I won’t react, but I can promise you I won’t run away.” She looked around the kitchen. “If there was ever a place where we could try and heal from my mistakes, it’s here.”

“I made mistakes, too,” he told her, then added, “I should tell you, I don’t know if I can forget.”

She trembled. “I think forgetting would be difficult for either of us. I’m hoping we can work past the anger. We’re actually talking. That’s a big step for both of us.”

He nodded and pulled on his gloves. “I guess we better get to work.”

She motioned toward the sledgehammer in his hand. “Why didn’t you rent a machine to get the tile up?”