Anita Mills (35 page)

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’d like to go there before you take me back to the hotel.”

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the padded seat, wondering how on earth a woman like Lydia had managed to pull the wool over so many men’s eyes, when she didn’t know how to love with her heart or her body. She’d just cheated herself while she was cheating them.

Tossing a rock into the water, he watched it disappear, leaving rippling circles on the surface. The boy had been a stranger, he told himself—his love for the child had been based on his blood, not Josh himself. He ought to have known Liddy would lie, he ought to have suspected the early birth of the baby, but even Sally Jamison had said he was small. At barely five pounds and only a few days premature, Josh’s arrival hadn’t seemed all that unusual. And with the war going on, he hadn’t been able to get home for months afterward. It hadn’t meant anything to him that everyone kept pointing out how much Josh looked like Lydia. With both parents having dark hair and with the mother having almost black eyes, it was to be expected that the boy would favor her more than Spence.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. Lydia had fooled him into marrying her even before she knew she carried the other man’s child; out of spite and perversity, she’d lied to him for four long years, begging him to come home, knowing she didn’t want him, knowing he couldn’t come. She’d toyed with his mind, whipsawed his emotions, and she hadn’t even cared a snap for him. She’d been giving herself to other men while he’d lain awake nights, wanting desperately to go home to her. And even now, she’d been able to reach out from her grave to deliver her final blow.

A seagull skimmed the water, then dove to fish, and the quick little splash drew his notice to the reflection of a pink haze spreading over the bay. Lifting his eyes to the dawn, he sighed. “Lord,” he said softly, “Thad Bingham believed with all his heart that everything has a purpose, so I’d like to think You brought me out here for some reason. All I know for sure is I’ve wasted a year of my life chasing a dream through hell.”

A boat’s horn blew in the distance, breaking the early morning peace, as he realized the pursuit of one futile purpose had given him more than it had taken from him. He might not have a son to call his own, but he had Laura and Jessie and a baby on the way. Lydia had done him some terrible wrongs, but without them he’d still be with her, and he would never have known the warmth, the complete love, of Laura. He would never have felt the complete, unquestioning trust of her baby.

The
war had done about as much damage to him as Lydia, leaving him with a sense of emptiness, of futility, causing him to doubt his calling. All the senseless death, the carnage too terrible for memory, the agony he could not ease, had nearly destroyed him. It had disillusioned him, and it had made him think he’d failed all those men by sending them home less than whole. It had made him think he’d lost the battle.

But unbeknownst to him at the time, Jessie’s birth had replanted the seed in his mind that he still had something to give, and then little Jimmy Daniels’s badly infected leg and Laura’s steadfast belief he’d been ordained to practice medicine had made it grow until he couldn’t ignore it. No, despite the sadness and disappointment he felt now, the trip west had been worth the price. He might have followed a false hope, but it had led him to Laura Taylor, and through her, it had redeemed him.

Standing up, he dusted off his pants and took one last look at the rising sun in the water. By now, she was probably frantic with worry, and he had to get back to her. He wanted her to know she and Jessie were enough for him.

Laura heard him unlock the door, but rather than confront him, she lay still, wondering if he’d let her tell him about Joshua, or if he’d be too hurt and angry to listen. He crossed the room silently to look into the cradle at her sleeping daughter. Watching through a veil of lashes, she saw him reach down to pull the little blanket up and tuck it in before he went into the water closet.

Not wanting to wake either of them, Spence undressed before he came out, then crept into bed. Turning over to lie against Laura’s back, he lay quietly, drawing warmth from her body. The scent of the French perfume he’d bought her the day they’d married lingered on her smooth skin and in her hair.

He realized suddenly she was too quiet, that he didn’t hear the deep, even breathing of sleep. “You’re awake, aren’t you?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

“Yes,” she said, turning over to face him. “I waited up until past midnight, then decided you were a grown man, and there wasn’t anything I could do for you until you came back. I figured you needed to do some thinking.”

“I did. I don’t know how far I walked, but I wound up clear down by the bay. I kept thinking how bad I felt over Josh, how much time I’d wasted looking for someone who wasn’t anything to me.”

“He still could be, Spence.”

“No. I’ve accepted it, and I’m ready to go on with my life. I’ve got you and Jessie, and if the baby gets here and you’re both fine, that’s about all that matters to me. Maybe the baby will be a boy, but if it’s not, I’ve discovered a partiality for girls, anyway. I may not have a son, but I’ve got a daughter I’m damned proud of. You don’t have to say anything or start crying—I just want you to know I’m all right.”

“Did you stop to think Ross could have been lying to you?”

“He wasn’t. I didn’t have to read any letter to know it. It just sort of added up, anyway.”

“I hate to think of a child out there with nobody to love him. He’s probably hurting a lot worse than you are.”

“Did you read Lydia’s letter?”

“Yes.”

“It just confirmed what he said, didn’t it?”

“Yes.” Snuggling against him, she added, “But she could’ve been lying about that,
too,
you know. While I hate to speak ill of the dead, I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

“No. As pretty as she was, it was all on the surface. But I’ll say this about her; then I don’t want to talk about it any more—she sure knew how to use her looks to her advantage.”

Tracing his bare arm with her fingers, she said, “You know, strange as it seems, I almost feel sorry for him.”

“You would—you’ve got a soft heart. Look, I’d rather not waste any more time on either of them.” Responding to her touch, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into his embrace. “I just want to forget them and think about you.”

“As despicable as he is, he loved her, you know.”

Rather than repeat himself, he kissed her, stifling conversation. “When did you feed Jessie?” he murmured as his hands found the ribbon at the neck of her gown.

“Midnight.”

“Think if we’re quiet about it, she’ll sleep a little longer?”

“Probably. Spence—?”

“If it’s about anything but us, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to lose myself in you, and stay there forever.”

“As much as I’d like that, it’s pretty impossible,” she murmured, helping him with the buttons. “I just wonder—”

“You’re pretty talky this morning, aren’t you?”

“I’ve just got something on my mind, that’s all,” As his hand worked her gown up, her breath caught, and she felt that familiar wave of desire flood her body. “But it can wait a while,” she managed to whisper. “Right now, there’s nothing I’d rather do than this.”

“Just don’t wake the baby,” he reminded her. “I don’t want her thinking we’re killing each other.”

Settling under him, she reached for his neck and parted her lips for his kiss. “Mrs. Hardin, do you have any idea how good you are?” he asked huskily.

Smiling seductively, she said softly, “I’d rather you showed instead of told me. I won’t need a lot of time this morning, Spence. I’m downright ready.”

As he began kissing her in earnest, her last rational thought was that the other matter wasn’t going to be easy. Then he found the dampness between her thighs, and she tried to remember not to moan as she gave herself over to him.

If he hadn’t loved her, he would’ve put up more of a fight about going to church on a weekday. It was a quaint old church she’d discovered, she told him, one where the old Spanish dons had worshipped, and he ought to see it. It didn’t make much sense to his Baptist mind for him to sit through a Catholic Mass neither of them understood, but she’d asked him to humor her, and he would.

“It looks pretty deserted to me,” he observed as the driver halted the pair of horses. “They must turn out more on Sunday.”

“We’re early. I thought we could walk around the grounds first. There’s a lovely garden, a school, a convent—things like that—it’s really quite remarkable. There’s a goodly number of Catholics in California because the Spanish brought missionaries with them.”

“You sound like a damned guidebook—I hope you know that.”

“I just want you to see it, that’s all.”

“Thad Bingham would turn over in his grave if he knew I was here,” he muttered.

“I thought he was a man of God.”

“He was.”

“Then he surely wouldn’t feel like that. If it hadn’t been for monks copying scripture back in the Dark Ages, none of us would have the Bible, including us Baptists. Besides, whether I accept the religion or not, I know the nuns do a lot of good in this world.”

“I’m not disputing it. I just never knew you were quite so broadminded, but I guess there’s probably some other things about you I don’t know yet either.”

“Probably a lot of them.” She’d always disliked devious people, and she hated being one. No matter how she did this, she had a pretty fair notion he was going to be angry. “That’s the convent over there,” she told him, pointing. “And that other building is where the nuns work with the children.”

Following her direction, he could see the black-robed woman standing before several rows of dark-skinned kids, lining them up to march them somewhere. “They don’t look old enough to be in school. That looks more like some sort of nursery.”

She drew a deep breath, then looked up at him. “It’s an orphanage, Spence. Ross Donnelly brought Joshua here and left him. The only truth he told the nun in charge was that Josh wasn’t an orphan. He said the child had been abandoned and had nobody to care for him. He told her that no one wanted him, but that is a lie.” She could see his face darken, and she knew she was in for a fight. “I want him, Spence.”

“No! I’ll do a lot of things for you, but not that!” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned and walked away, his anger evident in every step.

“Spence, listen to me!” she cried, hurrying to catch up with him, “He’s already lost his mother! Do you want him to grow up without a father, too?”

“He’s not mine!” he shouted at her.

“He could be! You don’t know that she didn’t lie about that just to get herself another man!”

“He had to have slept with her, Laura!”

“So? Does that make it a certainty that that little boy in there is his? She gave herself to you, too!” Lowering her voice, she tried to reason with him. “But whether he has one drop of your blood or not, he’s got your name. They’ve got him listed as Joshua Hardin in their records here.”

“Laura,” he said hoarsely, “don’t ask me to do this, because I can’t.”

“If you could just see him, it’d touch your heart. Please, Spence—that’s all I’m asking. You don’t even have to tell him who you are.”

“I’m nothing to him! Don’t you understand?—I’m nothing to that kid!”

“All right, maybe you aren’t In that case, I’d like to adopt him.”

“What?
Have you lost your mind?”

“I think he’s yours, but if he isn’t, we can make him yours, anyway. Spence, he’s got black hair like yours. Anybody who looked at him would think he belonged to you.”

Lydia had dark hair.”

“And so do you. So what if it’s not quite as black as yours—it’s real dark. You’ve just got to see him— you’ve just got to.”

“No!”

“Looking can’t hurt anything,” she persisted.

“The hell it won’t! It’d be just like looking at her, and I’m damned if I want to! A man doesn’t want to be reminded he was a fool—can’t you understand that?”

“No, I can’t. I know you were married to her, and I know you must’ve wanted her, and I know she was a beautiful woman who had you first, Spence. And I know everybody says he looks just like her. If I used your logic, I wouldn’t want to look at him either, just because I’d be reminded she’d lain in your arms first, she’d been the one you whispered all those passionate words to first, but—”

“Then you ought to understand. I don’t ever want to see her again.”

“She’s in the ground back at McPherson. You’re not looking at her—you’re looking at Joshua Hardin. You’re looking at a little boy who’s got your name. If I can stand to do it, you can, too.” When he turned away again, she caught his arm, holding him there. “Every morning, you hold Jessie and hug and kiss her, Spence. Doesn’t it bother you that she looks like my first husband? When you look at her, do you see me lying underneath him doing to him what I do to you? If you do, you sure are good at keeping it to yourself, because I could swear you love her as much as if you’d planted her in my body,”

“Laura—”

“I can’t help it, Spence. He’s a handsome little boy, and he’s going to grow up in this orphanage. He’s going to grow up with black-robed nuns taking care of him instead of a mother. But worst of all, he’s going to know his name’s Hardin and he isn’t an orphan. Don’t you think he’s going to wonder what he did that was so awful his daddy didn’t want him?”

“You’re not being fair!”

“If I can love him, you can, too,” she said evenly. “Adopt him in your heart, and he’ll be yours.”