Can't Stop Believing (HARMONY) (16 page)

“I wouldn’t have been believed. It would have been my word against his, and Bryce has this way of telling lies that suckers everyone in. After that night he was the long-suffering husband and I was the wild spoiled brat who had totaled yet another car.”

Cord remembered reading about the wreck. Even the local paper had run it more as a “see what the Britain girl has done now” story than a news report. They’d even reported the injuries suffered by the passenger, her husband.

“That where you got the little scar just over your left eyebrow?”

Surprise pulled her out of her depression. “You noticed that.”

“I notice everything about you, Babe.”

He’d managed to make her smile. “Apparently you do, except that I hate being called Babe.”

When he pulled up to his place and cut the engine, he thought his farm looked abandoned. With the farm equipment and the trailer gone, the house and barn looked even more run down. Tumbleweeds were caught along the fence line and one of the chairs had blown off the porch. Far to the right he could see the first crop breaking the soil by a few inches. Thanks to the Boxed B’s huge tractors, they’d plowed and planted in days instead of weeks. Cord had even bought mobile irrigation units, almost guaranteeing a good crop. When their marriage ended, he’d haul the irrigation system over to her place.

Glancing down at her finger, he saw the thin band of gold. She was still wearing it, so today wouldn’t be the last day. After a month, he’d thought they were working well together, but now he wasn’t so sure. After all, he had made love to her just before dawn without them even talking it over first.

She hadn’t exactly invited him to make love to her, but she hadn’t objected. He’d thought she enjoyed it as much as he had. She’d come home in the middle of the day and pulled him away from work, saying she needed to talk. A note left on a car didn’t seem that urgent. Something else was bothering her.

Maybe he’d stepped over that invisible trip wire he’d been looking for since they walked out of the courthouse . . . maybe he’d tripped the switch that was about to blow up everything.

“So, I finally heard what Ora Mae had been trying to tell me. That woman would drive to heaven in a wheelbarrow to get her point across.”

“What did she tell you?” He’d dropped out of the conversation at some point. He had enough frightening things in his past. The housekeeper wouldn’t have to make something up. Whatever it was, he knew he’d found the real problem that had made her drive across half the ranch to find him.

Nevada huffed as if she’d been asked to say everything again. “She told me that you’re not comfortable in the house. She says you go around opening drapes and turning on lights. She says every door you walk through, you leave open, and you’re forever roaming through the kitchen looking for something to eat.”

Cord relaxed. She was complaining about his habits. He could fix that. “I like light and fresh air. I like being able to eat whenever I’m hungry, but if it bothers you I can change.” He could learn to live in the cavelike rooms with their thick drapes and closed windows. He could eat on a timetable; he had in prison.

“It doesn’t bother me.” Now, after he gave in, she sounded angry. “If you want light and air, we can work on that. I told Ora Mae to leave a basket of fruit and snacks out on the counter and clean the wine cooler out and stock it with individual milks you can take with you or whatever kind of drinks you like. Since our marriage I seem to have given up the habit of wine with dinner anyway.”

Now he was confused. She was giving in. He climbed out of the Jeep and ran the few feet to the overhang at the side of his parents’ home. “What are we talking about, Nevada?”

She followed him to the corner of the porch and sat down, propping her boots up on the steps. “We’re talking about making you happy, you idiot, so stop making a big deal of it and tell Ora Mae what you want her to do. She’ll stock up on whatever you like. We’ll turn off the air conditioner and keep the windows open as long as the wind is under forty. W—”

He knelt to her level on the thick grass that had always grown on the shady side of the porch. “One more time. What are we talking about, Nevada? This isn’t about me turning on lights or what I want to drink. You didn’t drive out to talk about Ora Mae’s worries, did you? What are we really talking about here? Say what you want to say, Babe,” he asked again, and then waited.

For a while she didn’t look at him, and he just listened to the rain playing on the tin porch roof of the old house. He’d grown up in this quiet farmhouse where no one talked out their problems. He didn’t want it to be like that between him and Nevada. He’d rather face trouble head on than wonder what was bothering her.

When she finally did look up, her beautiful eyes were swimming in tears. “Why’d you make love to me like that, Cord?”

Of all the things he thought might be on her mind, bothering her, making her nervous and angry, their dawn loving had finally made it to the top of the list.

He cupped the side of her face and brushed a tear away with his thumb. “Like what? Did I do something wrong?” He wanted to scream that he could change, he could get it right next time, only in his life there were very few second chances and maybe she wasn’t willing to give him one.

Her hand covered his, pressing his palm against her cheek. “I didn’t expect it, not knowing the kind of man you are. I didn’t expect you to be so tender.” She gulped down a sob. “No one’s ever made love to me like that. Like I was special, like I was made of fine china.”

He stood and looked down at her, wondering how any man could touch her in any other way. The thought that someone had made his gut knot.

She straightened, lifting her chin. “We agreed to be honest, so here goes. I’ve had more lovers than I can count. I gave it away to half a dozen on my sixteenth birthday just to show my dad that I could party even if he forgot to say
happy birthday
to me. I’ve had one-night stands where I couldn’t remember the guy’s name in the morning. I had three husbands, one who thought that wild sex was an every-night rodeo and one who used it to dominate and control. If I didn’t want to, he’d torture me insisting on it and, if I agreed too easily, he’d say that I was a tramp and deserved to be treated like one.”

She held to her pride, and he saw all her invisible scars for the first time.

“I’ve had sex in the back of pickups and penthouse suites, coatrooms and bathroom bars, but I’ve never, ever had what you offered this morning.”

He circled his arms around her and pulled her gently against his chest. “What do you want?”

She pressed her forehead against his chest. “I want that kind of loving again, but I don’t want to have to ask or beg for it. I don’t want it to be part of the negotiation between us. I don’t want it to be a game between you and me. Not this. I need to know that this one thing is real between us.”

He turned her head up and kissed her before whispering, “I’ve never done it in a pickup or a penthouse, or a bathroom bar. In fact, except for a few awkward times before I left for prison, I’ve never made love at all, so I guess if you put us together we average out to about even.”

“But how?”

He laughed. “I dreamed of making love a lot, and always when I did, I dreamed that it was with you.”

She pulled away. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “That’s why it came so easy last night. I’d practiced in my mind a thousand times.”

He kissed her again, this time with passion. When he finally broke the kiss, his hands still moved over her. “Making love to you was never part of any game. Whenever you want to again, just touch me. There will be no negotiating or bargaining.” He kissed her ear. “Or holding back. Any time. Any place.”

“Now,” she whispered, then laughed when he stumbled backward into the rain.

She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight, not caring that big cold raindrops splattered around her. Her first kiss was almost shy.

He moved his hands over her bottom and lifted her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Moving toward the house, they were lost to everything around but each other. Without a word, he kicked in the door, climbed the narrow stairs, and walked into his old room. The storm made it seem like night, and the rain blocked out all the world.

Pulling the dust cover off the bed, he lowered with her still in his arms. “I want to take that dress off you real slow. Any objections?”

He tugged the tie free at the back of her neck. “Then, I’m going to take my time learning every curve of you, Babe, all over again.”

She giggled as if it were her first time to be truly loved.

Within minutes their clothes were piled on the dusty floor, but neither noticed. They were too wrapped in each other. As the storm pounded the little farmhouse, passion flowed between them in long kisses and easy strokes. In the shadowy light he watched her face, loving knowing how much he made her feel . . . loving knowing what his touch did to her.

In his dreams he’d hadn’t heard the way she sighed softly when she was happy and how she cried out when lost in passion. Now, every sound she made washed over him in sweet melody. Loving her was as easy as breathing, and he never wanted to stop. Even when he was exhausted and she lay sleeping on his shoulder, he couldn’t keep from touching her.

As he drifted to sleep, he dreamed of loving her and woke to find her still in his arms.

When they finally got dressed and started home, the rain had stopped and the sun was setting. He turned the Jeep toward his old barn. “Want to go for a ride in my grandfather’s old plane?”

She looked worried.

“I’m a safe pilot.” He laughed. “I swear.”

She slipped her hand in his and nodded, making him feel like he could almost fly without the plane. She was trusting him, something it seemed like he’d had very little of in his life.

They flew over their land with the wind blowing in their faces. They watched the sunset and night move over the fields. The smell of spring brushed past them, making the night seem newborn.

When he set the plane down, she climbed out and into his arms.

“Can we do it again?”

“Babe, we can do everything again, and again, and again.”

Nevada laughed free and unguarded.

They talked of nothing when they pushed the plane back into the barn, then held hands as they walked to the Jeep.

He drove slowly, not wanting the world to catch up to them again. Twice, he stopped in the center of the road to pull her close and kiss her.

“I already want you again,” he whispered, and loved the way she laughed as she moved her fingers into his hair.

When she finished kissing him, she pulled away and added, “We’d better get home fast. Maybe we should have flown the plane home.”

He saw her need for him in her blue eyes and felt like his heart might explode.

The ranch house was dark when they finally made it home, and he noticed she turned on every light as she walked through to the kitchen. Then, like starving children, they collected everything that looked edible and camped out in the breakfast nook. They talked of nothing and ate ice cream over cereal topped with chocolate sauce.

He felt like he’d gone to prison before he’d finished growing. He never remembered allowing himself to act silly, but tonight the air seemed enchanted. They fought over every cherry he pulled from the jar. She tickled him, then giggled when he refused to tickle her back. Though he wanted to hold her tight against him, he kept his embrace light, easy for her to move in and out.

When they crawled into bed, they settled in the middle, making love one more time as if both knew eventually this day had to end. After she fell asleep on his chest, Cord lay awake thinking that if he had only one day of heaven coming to him in this lifetime, this one day was enough.

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” he whispered, wondering if he’d ever say the words to her when she was awake. Nevada didn’t believe in forever.

She didn’t believe in love.

He knew the seven months of married life they had left wouldn’t be long enough, but he’d take the time and do all he could to become the one person in her life that she couldn’t do without.

He’d become the habit she couldn’t break. Even if she never said the words, she’d love him, and when their time was over, she’d remain in his bed. She’d sleep with him through the first frost.

“Sleep, Babe,” he whispered as he bumped his chin against her forehead.

She moaned and wiggled closer to him for warmth.

He moved his hand down her back, pressing her against him. “I’m going to make love to you again at dawn.”

“Promise,” she mumbled, more asleep than awake. “It’d be a great start to the day.”

“Promise,” he answered, knowing that Nevada already loved him and didn’t even know it. “Tomorrow and every morning,” he added, smiling.

A
PRIL
5

T
HE
DOCTORS
WARNED
R
ONNY
THAT
M
ARTY
W
INSLOW
would have good days and bad, but the good days were always too short and the bad days were growing worse. Sometimes he didn’t wake for more than an hour, and when he did, he didn’t seem to see the world.

His brother and cousins who had been waiting for him to die seemed content to stay away and let Mr. Carleon and Ronny handle the work of the last few days. With the nurses on eight-hour shifts around the clock and the doctor coming every day, there was still plenty of work to keep both Mr. Carleon and Ronny rushing.

Mr. Carleon read to him from adventure books he knew Marty loved, and Beau would still play for him in the evenings. A hundred times Ronny checked and swore Marty was less with them than he had been the day before. The machines were working, counting off breaths and heartbeats, but he seemed to be leaving an inch at a time.

Ronny found her escape in long walks when she knew he was resting well. Time lost all meaning. She would move like a ghost through the town in the early morning and again when the moon was high. People she sometimes passed were no more alive than the mannequins in the windows of the stores on Main.

She kept her phone close, knowing that Mr. Carleon would call her if anything changed, but sometimes she feared she wouldn’t hear it because she didn’t hear anything. The world, her world, was growing silent.

Cord McDowell dropped by on Thursday morning, just to see if she needed anything. He was a quiet man trying to be kind, and she knew being sociable didn’t come any easier for him than it did for her. On impulse, Ronny invited him in. Marty was awake and might enjoy the company.

Cord didn’t seem to know how to make small talk. When Marty asked him about the ranching business, he told him some of the problems he was having trying to run a ranch after spending most of his adult years in prison.

To Ronny’s surprise, Cord and Marty talked with a kind of honesty that few people bother to use. No frills or stories just to entertain. Marty’s mind seemed to sharpen. He knew nothing of ranching, but he knew business. Like a man working a puzzle, Marty asked the right questions, drawing Cord down logical roads.

“If you’ll bring your books over,” Marty finally said, “I’ll take a look at them. I stayed in college long enough to get a minor in everything and a major in fun.”

“I don’t want to be a bother, but thank you for the offer.” Cord smiled at Ronny, and she knew he saw what she saw in Marty, not the frail man in the bed, but a bright mind with little tolerance for fools.

“It’s no bother,” Marty said. “You’ve given me something to think about besides dying. I’m asking more for my sanity than your need.”

“I have to come to town tomorrow. Would that be too soon for you to start answering a few questions? I swear I can’t make heads or tails of the books, and I don’t know how to figure out exactly what the profit margin is on the cattle. I’d interview for a bookkeeper, but I don’t even know what questions to ask.”

“Sure.” Marty sounded excited. “If I can’t figure it out, Ronny might be able to help.”

Cord picked up his hat and backed out of the room. She knew without asking that having people be kind to him was still too new for the man to take it for granted. She kissed Marty on the cheek and followed Cord out.

“Thanks for coming. Your visit did him a world of good.”

Cord looked embarrassed. “He’s a good man. I wish I knew half of what he does.”

“He is a good man and you’ll learn fast with his help. I think I loved him from the first, even when he was angry and yelling at me. One thing I love about him is that he never stops growing.”

Cord reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “This is my cell number. If you need me just call.”

She looked at the note. “It’s an easy number to remember. With the two sets of thirteen, it’s like a double bad luck number.”

“Yeah, that’s probably what my wife thought when she picked up the phone.”

“I’ll bet she searched for an easy one to remember.”

Cord agreed. “You’re probably right, because she calls me several times a day.” As if on cue, his phone rang.

Cord pulled it from his pocket. “Hello.” He paused for a moment. “Yes, I’m in town. I’ll pick you up.” He closed the phone and smiled. “She wants to have lunch. Like I have time for lunch.”

“You’re going, aren’t you?”

“Of course. I’ll make time. She’s meeting me at the diner. Lied and told me she couldn’t wait to try the daily special.”

Ronny smiled as he walked away. He didn’t have to say a word. She knew Cord McDowell was in love.

The next night, Ronny pulled on her black coat and walked along the dried-up creek that crossed through the heart of town. She forced herself to listen to the crunch of leaves and twigs beneath her feet. She was fighting to stay positive, but she knew deep inside she was already grieving what would never be.

Marty had enjoyed a good day. They’d talked and watched the dawn together, and then he’d slept most of the morning. Cord, as he had promised, showed up around one with a pie his housekeeper had made and a folder full of accounts. They all ate a slice of pie while he showed Marty the mess he’d made of keeping books. Marty talked in “big picture” terms of running a business, teaching gently, while Ronny pored over the books. After all her boring finance and bookkeeping classes, she finally saw reason in the lessons.

While Marty slept the afternoon away, she worked on Cord’s books, loving having something to fill her mind as she sat next to Marty, watching over him.

After supper, they had their time together. He talked about what life would have been like if they had years and not days. After all his traveling and adventures, Marty saw paradise as living here in Harmony with her. They could open a business. They’d build a funny house with round rooms and a skylight in every ceiling. They’d invite friends in for dinner and go to the movie every Friday night no matter how bad the film. They’d make love on a blanket in the backyard and pretend they were in the Amazon.

He fell asleep holding her hand, and she sat for a long while in the darkness, lit only by lights from the machines, and cried for what might have been and never would be.

When the shift nurse took her place, Ronny pulled on her jacket and went for a walk. Days, even the good ones, were sometimes too sweet to relive. She just wanted to stretch her muscles and feel the night. She crossed the calm darkness of sleeping streets, heading in no particular direction.

As she paused to get her bearings, she heard footsteps behind her. Suddenly her numb body came awake.

Someone was following her.

With quick steps, she ran to the opening between the trees that led her out of the creek. No one was ever out at this time of night. In all the years she’d been walking, she’d never crossed paths with another so late. And this other wasn’t just walking, he was following her, for she heard his steps rushing toward her as she climbed.

When she reached the road, she darted across to the park, where shadows layered and no one would see her. The grass was slippery and damp, but she didn’t stop running until she passed behind the trees, leaning against an old cottonwood to listen.

Nothing.

Slowly, she looked around the tree. The foggy glow of a streetlight a hundred yards away showed nothing. For a long time, she stood, listening, waiting.

Nothing moved. Maybe she’d just been hearing the echo of her own steps. Maybe she’d let her imagination run away. When she’d been little, her mother had always filled her head with evil men roaming the world in search of little girls to kill.

Ronny pushed away from the tree. She wouldn’t live in fear. She wouldn’t base her life on her mother’s irrationality. She wouldn’t hide.

With sure steps she marched to the road and headed toward Buffalo’s Bar. She could just make out the outline of Beau’s ancient car. She didn’t want to retrace her path back to the duplex. Within minutes she stepped into the old bar.

It looked like it had been packed tonight. Bottles of beer were stacked on the tables along with empty red baskets that had once held wings and burgers. Even the floor was snowy with napkins and the place smelled of aging grease.

“We’re closed,” the bartender said.

“I just came to see Beau.”

“He’s—”

The bartender’s words were flooded by Border yelling from the cage. “Ronny. You need a ride home? We were just closing up.”

Ronny hurried over to the boys who were her neighbors. “I was just out walking and thought I might catch a ride. It looks like it might rain,” she lied.

Beau picked up his case. “How’s Marty? I got a new song I want him to hear.”

“He’s asleep.” They’d agreed days ago to stop giving medical reports to everyone who asked.

Border climbed out of the cage of a stage. “You want to go over to the truck stop for enchiladas?”

“I thought they fed you here?”

“Harley does, but that was ten o’clock.” Border glanced at Beau. “You coming tonight?”

“Sure,” Beau answered as he shoved his black hair out of his eyes. “If Trouble doesn’t show up.”

Border grinned and interpreted. “Trouble is this girl he knows. She comes in now and then. When she does, he drops me like I was his ugly half sister.”

Border was the only one who laughed at his own joke.

They walked out of the bar with both guys talking at once about everything that had happened that night. Border swore he had two women beg him to go home with them. Beau reminded his friend that both bar lizards had been old enough to be his mother. They talked about one woman who got so drunk she started stripping on the dance floor, and Harley had to carry her out with half the bar cheering and the other half booing.

Ronny let them convey her along, needing the time to just be normal for an hour even though she felt a twinge of guilt at not being home with Marty.

As they drove to the truck stop, she texted the nurse and learned all was quiet. Marty was sleeping calmly through the night.

They ordered three enchilada plates with rice and beans on the side. While they waited, Border showed her how one lady had danced like an upright snake, and Beau claimed another guy always danced like he was a rooster strutting around the yard.

Ronny laughed and breathed and relaxed, but Marty never left her thoughts. By the time they paid, she found herself in a hurry to get back home, and the ghost who’d followed her along the dried-up creek bed was forgotten.