Warrior in Her Bed (11 page)

Instinctively Annie put a hand over her tummy. It hadn't occurred to her that a man might not try to disappear from his child's life if given the opportunity to be a part of it. The idea of marriage popped into her head of its own volition. Annie had a hard time pushing it aside.

Good Lord, how many times had she counseled others not to jump into marriage simply for the sake of a child? Aside from the fact that the divorce statistics were overwhelming, she didn't want to force any man into marrying her just because she was pregnant. She would be far happier raising a child by herself than trapping Johnny into marriage against his free will. Figuring her own sense of pride and personal dignity into the equation made trapping Johnny even more distasteful.

That wasn't to say that if he knew about the baby,
he would either abandon it or instantly propose on bended knee. There was the distinct possibility he would insist upon raising his child in his native culture. What if he decided to fight her for custody?

In Indian tradition, children are everything.

The mere thought of another court battle was more than Annie could bear. Making up an excuse to cut him off, she hung up the phone before Johnny had a chance to probe any deeper into the reasons for her distracted responses to his end of the conversation. Cradling her aching head in her hands, she addressed the pups that had already come to regard her as their mother. Since her debacle in court, it was the closest Annie thought she would ever come to motherhood.

“Boys,” she told them solemnly, “it looks like we might just be having a baby.”

Just saying the words out loud made her feel better. Whether one chose to blame it on stupidity or destiny, Annie intended to do everything in her power to bring this baby into the world safely. She was also determined to be the best mother ever—with or without a father in the picture. Her future might be cloudy, but one thing was certain. No one on earth was taking this child from her.

J
ohnny felt Annie pulling away from him when they had last spoken on the phone, but it wasn't until he got back home that he realized just how far she had truly retreated emotionally. Weary when he had talked to her after enduring a day of speakers who had little genuine interest in the participants other than in the registration money they had paid for the privilege of listening and taking notes for hours on end, Johnny did his best to rationalize away the feeling that something was wrong. He couldn't think of anything particularly awful that he had done to alienate Annie from him. Had he paid more attention to that nagging voice in the back of his head, the likelihood was that he wouldn't have been so completely blindsided when he returned home.

As it was, he went blithely ahead planning a bright future with all the gullibility of a lamb being led to
the slaughter. Over the past few days Johnny had worked hard to add an extra counseling position in his current grant proposal. He was primarily motivated by how desperately the population that his school serviced truly needed such a position. And while it was true that he had someone very specific in mind to fill that position, he wanted to check with Annie first to see if she was even interested in staying on in a full-time capacity. After all she had been through, he wouldn't blame her if she chose to avoid anything to do with the counseling field for the rest of her life. As much as he wanted to respect her wishes, Johnny knew that would be a damned shame. From the interactions he'd witnessed, the woman had a rare and wonderful gift.

He could hardly wait to tell her so, too—face to face. Perhaps the title of resident medicine woman would hold more appeal for her than being referred to as an official counselor. Not much of a phone person, Johnny liked to gauge a person's reaction by facial expressions and body language as well as by their words. Without that very feedback, it had been far too easy to attribute the chill he felt the last time he had spoken to Annie to the hope that she was as lonely without him as he was without her.

Idiot!

How could he be so stupid not once but twice in the same lifetime? he thought, remembering the Dear John letter. He had, in fact, proven so dim-witted that after spending the better part of the week trying to ensure Annie a permanent position at Dream Catchers he had actually found himself window-shopping at an upscale jewelry store for diamond rings. And when he was supposed to be focusing on some highly
acclaimed conference speaker during the day, his mind would wander to the kind of house he wanted to build Annie on the banks of the Wind River itself.

Structurally it would be a far cry from the hovel in which his grandmother had raised Ester and him, but Johnny hoped to fill it with the same sense of family devotion that she had. He fancied A-frame styles that followed traditional tepee lines with lots of windows and opportunities for Annie to make use of her stained-glass skills. Incorporating all the modern conveniences, he imagined decorating primarily with native artwork and artifacts. It gave him great pleasure to pass the time integrating their separate unique cultures into a dream home that reflected both their personalities. It pleased him even more to imagine the sound of children filling the rafters with raucous laughter.

As an orphan, Johnny had missed out on years of father-son bonding that other boys took for granted. Though his grandmother had done her best to pass on the tribal ways and raise him to be a good man, she had been too old to play ball with him or take him fishing and hunting. She certainly never discussed the birds and the bees with him. Her only advice had been a stern “Just don't get anyone pregnant and shame the family.”

In spite of the rumors that surrounded him over the years, Johnny had obeyed her. The possibility of having children with Annie cracked his heart open like an egg. Given the horrors he had witnessed in war, a “normal” life seemed as elusive to him as sleep without those awful recurring nightmares. Long ago he had given up on ever finding anyone who could truly accept him for himself and see him for
the man he was—neither 100 percent sinner nor saint but rather as someone doing his best to exorcise his demons.

Without overtly trying to change him, Annie was smoothing his rough edges as surely as she taught her pupils how to grind down the edges of a piece of jagged glass. Johnny supposed she would just as unobtrusively help him tone down any military disciplining he might be tempted to foist upon their children, too. From what she shared about the heartache she had suffered in losing two babies herself, he imaged she would be thrilled about the idea of having a family of their own. What might appear to be a typical and easily attainable dream to others had always seemed out of reach for Johnny. Now that it was within his grasp, he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, I'm in love with the most wonderful woman in the world!

In love!

The man who swore he would never utter those words found himself wanting everyone to know just how upside-down crazy in love he was. Perhaps, he thought wryly to himself, it would be better if he told Annie herself first. He practiced several approaches with Smokey on the long ride home. Cocking his head to one side, the dog gave his master a sympathetic ear. In retrospect it was easy for Johnny to see that what he had felt for the young girl who had broken his heart so many years ago had been merely infatuation on his part. It had been born less of true love than of a need to shake off his rebel label and settle down into the kind of traditional lifestyle that he hoped would make him feel less vulnerable and less an outsider. That his fiancée had treated his feel
ings so frivolously was clearly a sign of how lucky he had been to escape a lifetime of being tied to her. Johnny couldn't believe he had ever given that fickle young woman the power to make him swear off love forever.

It was a good thing that the Great Spirit looked mercifully upon all His children, even the most pig-headed ones.

No matter what he accomplished professionally, Johnny understood that Annie's love would ultimately prove to be his saving grace. Having given so freely of herself without demanding so much as reciprocal lip service in return, Annie deserved to hear him utter those three sweet little words on bended knee. He was impatient to start planning a future together. A future based not on lust alone, but rather upon a deep sense of devotion and commitment as rare as white diamonds. Singing along with the song playing on the radio, Johnny's sense of elation was nothing short of contagious. Smokey added his unique harmony and kept the beat with the wagging of his tail.

Life had never held more promise.

 

The minute he pulled into the driveway, Johnny sensed that something was wrong. His first clue was that Annie didn't come rushing out of the house to greet him, as was her habit. His second was finding his bags packed and waiting for him inside the front door.

“What the hell's going on here?” he demanded to know.

Kicking his shaving kit out of the way, he tried restarting his heart by seeking some logical reason
for Annie's behavior. He willed himself not to jump to any foregone conclusions. Perhaps the house was being fumigated, necessitating the need to vacate the premises for the night. Perhaps the toilet had over-flowed, and Annie was angry that he hadn't been there when she needed him. Perhaps while he was away, Ester had been over stirring up more trouble between them.

Perhaps she had gotten tired of waiting around for him to tell her that he loved her. Perhaps she had simply fallen out of love with him in his absence.

The fact that there wasn't another Dear John letter pinned to his bags was a positive sign. Stepping into the room, he spied Annie rocking silently in the big blue overstuffed chair that had become his favorite. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her face was ghastly pale, and she made no attempt to hide the fact that she had been crying. One look at the telltale mascara smudges under her eyes and he was beside her in an instant.

“What's wrong?” he asked, concern pouring out of him.

Squatting down before her, Johnny took both of her hands into his own. Gently he tried massaging some warmth back into them. As always when they made physical contact, a shock traveled between them. Annie attempted to pull away from him, but Johnny held on tight. He wasn't about to let go until he got to the bottom of whatever was troubling her.

Onto his intentions, Annie was determined to keep her eyes averted from his. It was as if she feared he held magical powers of discernment that would allow him to look inside her soul through the windows of her eyes.

The doctor had confirmed her suspicions. She was indeed pregnant. Held hostage by a jumble of hormones and fears, Annie stopped rocking and gave Johnny her full attention. Straight away the articulate speech that she had painstakingly practiced over and over in her mind failed her. She bit her lower lip between her teeth to keep it from trembling.

“Nothing's wrong. It's just that this isn't working out,” was all she could manage in a hoarse whisper.

The hollow sound emanating from the bottom of Johnny's throat fell short of bitter laughter. In a cardboard box across the room, Big and Bad stirred in their sleep. The blanket that made their soft bed was the same one he had used to spread upon the ground when he had taken Annie picnicking at the old mission. He was bombarded by images of kissing her beneath the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches of an old cottonwood tree that bore his initials in its trunk.

What could have possibly happened in the short time between then and now to make her forsake him so?

She might just as well have doubled him over with a two-by-four as attempt to brush him off with such a trite old line.

“By
this,
I take it you really mean
me,
” he sneered.

Still refusing to make eye contact, Annie focused her attention on the big work-scarred hands that still held on to hers. They were hands she had come to love. Hands that had touched every inch of her body. And her soul.

“No, I mean
me,
” she tried to assure him with a brave, wobbly smile. “Johnny, you haven't done
anything wrong. You were the one who made it perfectly clear from the outset that this wasn't going to be a long-term relationship, that—”

Johnny cut her off. “And what if I've changed my mind?”

Annie looked confused. This wasn't at all how she anticipated him responding. Rumor had it that Johnny Lonebear was a love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of guy. He was supposed to shrug off their relationship as easily as an old shirt that no longer fit. That he resisted her efforts to treat their relationship lightly gave her good reason to pause.

If only he had alluded to such a change of heart before everything had become so horribly complicated!

Now that a baby was involved, Annie simply could not risk involving him in her future. She was determined Johnny would never know anything about the baby whose heart was beating beneath her own. For as much as she truly loved him, she knew that she was not emotionally up to fighting a legal battle based on his strong cultural beliefs that might well result in the loss of full or even partial custody of her son or daughter. The mere thought of another infant being ripped from her arms eviscerated Annie.

And strengthened her resolve.

Telling herself that she was actually doing Johnny a favor, she was tempted to point out how grateful he should be in not having yet another child who resembled him running around claiming him as a father. If Johnny would simply step aside and let her get on with her life without creating any fuss, she would gladly spare him the humiliation of a DNA test and the strain of eighteen years of court-ordered
financial support. Annie cringed to think of the women who appeared on those tawdry talk shows with the intention of genetically linking some poor fellow to their babies. When the tests proved otherwise, invariably the accused man would burst into cheers of relief and jubilation—along with every other man in the studio audience who joined in calling the woman the kinds of words that had to be bleeped out by the television censor.

Having been the recipient of such malicious name calling herself when she had been a vulnerable pregnant teenager, Annie wasn't about to put herself through that again. What was the point in subjecting herself to such brutal denunciations?

Or in sullying Johnny's good name for that matter?

Even if he claimed not to care about jeopardizing his standing in the community by cohabiting with a single white woman, especially one whose paycheck he signed, Annie most certainly did. The last thing she wanted to do was destroy a good man's life by coming between him and the things he loved the most: his family and the school he had helped to build. Those who resented their relationship in the first place were not likely to treat the scandal of impregnating a faculty member lightly.

It did not take any great leap in logic to see how keeping this baby a secret truly was in Johnny's best interest.

Annie told herself that she was not being selfish, that in all actuality her intentions were noble.

Assuming a sophisticated mantle that fit her as well as a tent, she told him, “Just because you may have changed your mind doesn't mean I have. Summer's almost over, and it's time to admit that this
little fling has run its course. It's been fun, but now it's time for both of us to move on with our lives.”

Johnny would have like nothing better than to stuff a rag in her mouth to keep any more such insipid remarks from tumbling out. They belittled the depth of his feelings and fed a rage burning inside of him that threatened to explode into a conflagration so intense that nothing would be left standing in its wake. Swearing, he jumped to his feet. In battle, rage had served him well. He was afraid it could be just as destructive in love. He had never laid hands on a woman before, but right now he was tempted to shake the truth out of this one. Johnny avoided that temptation by shoving his hands deep in his jean pockets.