Текст книги "The Reluctunt father"

Автор книги: Diana Palmer

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

Chapter 10

But Meredith’s job did interfere with their marriage. Her autographing session was the first indication of it. Blake and Sarah had gone to the bookstore Saturday to watch, and Blake had been fascinated by the number of people who’d come to have her sign their books. Dressed in a very sexy green-and-white ensemble, with a big white hat to match, Meredith looked very much the successful, urbane author. And she was suddenly speaking a language he didn’t understand. Her instant rapport with people fascinated and disturbed him. He didn’t get along well with people, and he certainly didn’t seek them out. If she was really as gregarious as she seemed and started to expect to throw lavish parties and have weekend guests, things were going to get sticky pretty fast.

As it happened, she wasn’t a party girl. But she did have to do a lot of traveling in connection with the release of her latest book.

Blake went through the ceiling when she announced her third out-of-state trip in less than three weeks.

“I won’t have it,” he said coldly, bracing her in the study.

“You won’t have it?” Meredith replied with equal hauteur. “You told me when we married that you didn’t mind if I worked.”

“And I don’t, but this isn’t working. It’s jet-setting,” he argued. “My God, you’re never here! Amie’s spending most of her time baby-sitting Sarah because you’re forever getting on some damned airplane!”

“I know,” Meredith said miserably. “And I’m sorry. But I made this commitment to promote the book before I married you. You of all people wouldn’t want me to go back on my word.”

“Wouldn’t I?” he demanded, and he looked like the old Blake, all bristling masculinity and outraged pride. “Stay home, Meredith.”

“Or what?” she challenged, refusing to be ordered about like a child of Sarah’s age. “What did you have in mind, tying me to a tree out in the backyard? Or moving to your club in town? You can’t, you know, you don’t have a club in town.”

“I could use one,” he muttered darkly. “Okay, honey. If you want the job that much, go do it. But until you come to grips with the fact that this is a marriage, not a limited social engagement, I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

“Go ahead,” she said recklessly. “I don’t care. I won’t be here!”

“Isn’t that the gospel truth,” he said, glaring at her.

She turned on her heel and went to pack.

From then on, everything went downhill between them. She felt an occasional twinge of guilt as Blake reverted to his old, cold self. He was polite to her, but nothing more. He didn’t touch her or talk to her. He acted as if she were a houseguest and treated her accordingly. It was a nightmarish change from the first days of their marriage, when every night had been a new and exciting adventure, when their closeness in bed had fostered an even deeper closeness the rest of the time. She’d been sure that he was halfway in love with her. And then her traveling had started to irritate him. Now he was like a stranger, and Meredith tossed and turned in the big bed every night, all alone. In the back of her mind, the knowledge that she had failed to conceive ate away at her confidence. As the days went on, Blake was becoming colder and colder.

Only with Sarah was he different. That was amusing, and Meredith laughed at the spectacle of Blake being followed relentlessly every step he took by Sarah Jane. She was right behind him all weekend, watching him talk to the men, sitting with him while he did the books, riding with him when he went out over the fields in the pickup truck to see about fences and cattle and feed. Sarah Jane was his shadow, and he smiled tolerantly at her attempts to imitate his long strides and his habit of ramming his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels when he talked. Sarah was sublimely happy. Meredith was sublimely miserable.

She tried once to talk to Blake, to make him understand that it wouldn’t always be this way. But he walked off even as she began.

“Put it in your memoirs, Mrs. Donavan,” he said with a mocking smile. “Your readers might find it interesting.”

In other words, he didn’t. Meredith choked back tears and went to her computer to work on her next book. It was taking much longer than she’d expected, and the tense emotional climate in the house wasn’t helping things along. It was hard to feel romantic enough to write a love scene when her own husband refused to touch her or spend five minutes in a room with her when eating wasn’t involved, or watching the news on television.

“You’re losing weight,” Bess commented one day at lunch when Meredith had escaped to her house to avoid the cold silence at home.

“I’m not surprised.” Meredith sighed. “It’s an ordeal to eat over there. Blake glares at me or ignores me, depending on his mood. I tried to explain that it wasn’t going to be like this every time a book came out, but he refuses to listen.”

“Maybe he’s afraid to listen,” Bess said sagely. “Blake’s been alone a long time, and he doesn’t really trust women. Maybe he’s trying to withdraw before he gets in over his head. In which case—” she grinned “—it could be a good omen. What if he’s falling in love with you and trying to fight it? Wouldn’t he act just that way?”

“No normal man would,” Meredith grumbled.

“Bobby did. So did King, according to Elissa. Men are really strange creatures when their emotions get stirred up.” She cocked her blond head and stared at Meredith. “You might put on your sexiest negligee and give him hell.”

“There’s a thought. But he’d probably toss me out the window if I dared.”

“You underestimate yourself.”

“All the same, it’s his heart I want to reach. I can’t really do that in bed,” Meredith said with sad eyes. “He’s always wanted me. But I want more. I’m greedy. I want him to love me.”

“Give it time. He’ll come around eventually.”

“Meanwhile I’m miserable,” Meredith said. “At least he and Sarah are getting along like a house on fire. They’re inseparable.”

“Camouflage,” Bess said. “He’s using her to keep you at bay.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“You greenhorn.” Bess sighed. “I wish I could make you listen.”

“Me, too.” Meredith got up. “I’ve got to go. I have to fly to Boston for a signing in the morning. And I haven’t told Blake yet.” She grimaced. “He’s been in an explosive mood for two weeks. This will sure light the fuse, I’m afraid.”

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded. “It’s the very last trip, but I did promise, and the bookseller is a friend of mine. I can’t let her down.”

Bess searched Meredith’s face. “Better Blake than her?” she asked quietly. “It seems to me, from an objective standpoint, that you’re running as hard from this relationship as he is. Do you really have to make these trips, or are you doing it to spite him, to prove your independence?”

“I can’t let him own me,” Meredith said stubbornly.

“Good for you. But a man like that isn’t going to be owned, either. You’re going to have to compromise if you want to keep him.”

Meredith felt herself going pale. “What do you mean, if I want to keep him?”

“Just that you could drive him away. He isn’t like other men. He’s been kicked around too much already. His pride won’t take much more abuse. You see these trips as simple tours,” she explained. “Blake sees that you prefer your work to him.”

Meredith felt sick. “No. He couldn’t think…”

“I did with Bobby,” Bess said simply. “I was sure that he would walk over my dying body to get to the office. I very nearly left him because of it. I couldn’t bear being second best.” Her eyes narrowed. “Neither can Blake. So look out.”

“I’ve been blind,” Meredith groaned. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I thought it was important not to be led around like a dumb animal, so I was fighting for my independence.” She closed her eyes. “I never dreamed he’d think I considered him less important than writing.”

“If you want some expert advice, tell him while there’s still time,” Bess suggested.

Meredith hugged the blond-haired woman. “Thanks,” she said huskily. “I love him so much, you know, and it was like a dream come true when he married me. Maybe I was afraid to let myself be happy with him, afraid of being hurt, of losing him again. I guess I just lost my perspective.”

“Blake probably lost his for the same reason. Get over there and fight for what you have.”

“Ever thought about joining the army?” Meredith murmured on her way out the door. “You’d make a dandy drill sergeant.”

“The marines offered, but then I found out they expected me to take showers with the men.” Bess grinned. “Bobby would never approve of that!”

Meredith laughed and waved as she got into her car and sped back up to the house. Bless Bess for making things so clear. It was going to be all right now. She’d tell Blake the real reason she’d insisted on the tours, and it would smooth over the tension.

She got out of the car and ran into the house, but there was no sound. Odd. She was sure Sarah had been playing in the living room.

She wandered into the kitchen, but there was no one there except Amie.

“Where is everybody?” Meredith asked, excitement shining in her eyes as she savored speaking to Blake.

Amie looked at her worriedly. “Surely Blake told you, Merry,” she said hesitantly.

Meredith blinked. “Told me what?”

“Why, that he was taking Sarah to the Bahamas for a few days,” Amie said, dropping the bombshell.

Meredith knew her face was like rice paper, but she managed to smile. “Oh. Yes. Of course. It slipped my mind.”

“You’re crying!” Amie put down her dishcloth and hugged Meredith. “Poor little thing,” she mumbled, patting the weeping woman. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

Meredith reached into her pocket for a tissue and wiped her red eyes. “I’ve given him a hard time lately,” she said. “It’s no more than I deserve.” She took a deep breath. “I have to fly to Boston in the morning, but when I come back, that’s the end of my traveling. I won’t go on tour again. Not ever.”

Amie searched her white face. “Don’t do that,” she said unexpectedly.

“What?”

“Don’t do it. If you let him get the upper hand now, if you ever let him start ordering your life, you’ll never be your own person again,” she said simply. “He’s a good man in many ways, but he has a domineering streak a mile wide. If you let him, he’ll tell you how to breathe. I know you want peace with him, but don’t sacrifice your freedom for it.”

Meredith felt torn. Bess had said give in, Amie was saying don’t. She didn’t know what to do anymore. Who was right? And what should she do?

Her heart shattered, she went upstairs to pack. What had begun as a beautiful marriage had turned sour. It was partly her fault, but Blake was as much to blame. She wondered if he was able to admit fault. Somehow she didn’t think so.

Boston was lovely. She did her autographing and stayed an extra day to enjoy the historic places and spend a little time in the local library. But her heart was broken. Blake had gone away without her, without even asking if she wanted to go with him. She didn’t know if she even wanted to go home again.

She did go home again, of course—to an empty house. She and Amie ate together and Meredith worked on her newest book because there was nothing else to do. And all the while she wondered what Blake and Sarah were doing. Most of all, she wondered if his eye was wandering to a more domestic kind of woman, one who would be content to stay at home and have his babies.

She stopped writing and sat with her head in her hands, daydreaming about having Blake’s child. Even though they hadn’t taken precautions she hadn’t conceived. In a way that was a shame. A baby might have helped bring them together. On the other hand, if Blake decided to leave her, it would be better for both of them if there were no blood ties.

Leave her. She closed her eyes. If Blake should leave her… She couldn’t bear even to think of it. She loved him so, missed him so. Tears ran down her cheeks, blinding her. If only he could love her back….

* * *

Blake, meanwhile, was riding around New Providence in a jitney with Sarah at his side, smiling as she enthused over the beautiful flowers and the unbelievable colors of the ocean and the whiteness of the sand. If Meredith had been with them, it would truly have been paradise.

His eyes darkened at the thought. Meredith. He hadn’t really given her a chance, he supposed. Her traveling made him mad and he’d pushed her out of his life because she refused to stop. In a way he was glad she had the spirit to stand up to him. But in another, he felt miserable because she was telling him he was nothing compared to her career. It hurt far more than Nina’s betrayal. Because he hadn’t loved Nina. And he…cared…for Meredith.

He couldn’t bear to think about her. He’d come down here with Sarah to hurt her. Probably she was in tears when Amie told her they had gone. His face hardened. She was going to take a long time to forgive him for that slap in the face. He was sorry he’d done it. He’d been hurting and wanted to strike back, but now it all seemed so petty and unnecessary. Being cruel wasn’t going to win Meredith back. He sighed. He didn’t quite have the hang of marriage yet. But he was going to work at learning how when he got back. He had to. He couldn’t bear to lose Meredith. These past few cold weeks had made his life hell, especially at night. He missed her soft body, her quiet breathing next to him. He missed her laughter and the lazy talks they’d had late at night. He missed a lot. He only hoped he hadn’t left things too late.

“Sarah,” he said, “how would you like to go home tomorrow?”

“I’d like that, Daddy,” she said. “I miss Merry something awful!”

“Yes, so do I,” he murmured under his breath.

* * *

Meredith was sitting at the computer with her reading glasses on when she heard the front door open.

“Merry!” Sarah Jane cried, and flung herself at Meredith to hug her convulsively. “Merry, why didn’t you come with us? We had such fun, but it was lonely without you!”

“It was lonely without you, too, baby.” Meredith sighed, hugging Sarah close.

She heard Blake’s step in the hall, and her heart ran away. Her body quivered. She didn’t look up because she didn’t dare. He’d hurt her enough. She wasn’t giving him any more openings.

“Hello, Meredith,” he said quietly.

She lifted cool gray eyes to his. “Hello, Blake. I hope you had a pleasant time.”

He shifted. He had a faint sunburn, but he looked almost gaunt. She realized that he’d honed down a little, too, during their cold war, and guilt made her throat constrict.

“It was all right,” he said coolly. “How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve had a ball,” she said nervously, hiding her lack of confidence from him. She smiled at Sarah. “I went to autograph in Boston and researched a new book while I was there.”

Blake’s expression closed up. He’d imagined her sitting home crying, and she’d been in Boston working on another damned book. He turned on his heel without another word and left her sitting there.

“And I’m going to have a party and everything, Merry, ’cause Daddy said so!” Sarah was chattering excitedly. She looked pretty. Her hair was neatly combed and she had on a soft, lightweight cotton dress with red and beige patterns on it, obviously bought for her in the Bahamas. Blake had even put a bow in her hair.

“A party?” Meredith echoed. She hadn’t been listening, because the cold look on Blake’s face had hit her hard. She’d put her foot in it again by raving about her trip.

“My birthday, Merry!” Sarah said with forced patience.

“That’s right,” Meredith said. “It’s coming up.”

“And we have to have a party,” Sarah said. “Dani can come, and you and Daddy, and we can have cake.”

“And ice cream,” Meredith said, smiling at the child’s obvious excitement. “We might even have balloons and a clown. Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes!”

“When are we having the party?” Meredith asked.

“Next Saturday,” Sarah said.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do.” She took off her reading glasses and Sarah picked them up and tried to look through them, making a face when everything was blurry.

Mrs. Jackson fixed the birthday cake with a favorite cartoon character of Sarah’s on the top and Meredith arranged for a local clown to come to the party to entertain the children. She invited Dani and some of Dani’s friends, anticipating bedlam. Maybe if they ate in the kitchen, it would be less messy.

“Why should they eat in the kitchen?” Blake asked icily when Meredith got up her nerve the day of the party to approach him about it. “They’re children, not animals. They can eat in the dining room.”

Meredith curtsied and smiled. “Yes, my lord,” she said. “Anything you say, sir.”

“That isn’t funny,” he said. He stalked out of the room and Meredith stuck out her tongue at him.

“Reverting to childhood?” Mrs. Jackson asked with a gleam in her eye as she opened the hutch to get out plates and glasses, since the party was less than two hours away.

“I guess so. He infuriates me!” She sighed. “He says we have to have it in here. Doesn’t he know that cake and ice cream are terrible on carpet?”

“Not yet,” Amie said with her tongue in her cheek. “But he will.”

Meredith smiled conspiratorially at her. “Yes, he certainly will.”

They had the party in the dining room. There were seven four-year-olds. In the middle of the cake and ice cream, they had a food fight. By the time Meredith and Elissa, who’d volunteered to help out, got them stopped, the room looked like a child’s attempt at camouflage. There was ice cream on the carpet, the hutch, the tablecloth, and even tiny splatters on Blake’s elegant crystal chandelier. Waterford crystal, too, Meredith mused as she studied the chocolate spots there. The chairs were smeared with vanilla cake and white frosting, and underfoot there was enough cake to feed several hungry mice.

“Isn’t this fun, Merry?” Sarah Jane exclaimed with a chocolate ring around her mouth and frosting in her hair.

“Yes, darling,” Meredith agreed wholeheartedly. “It’s fun, indeed. I can hardly wait until your daddy gets here.”

Just as she said that, Sarah Jane’s daddy walked in the door and stopped as if he’d been hit in the knee with a bat. His lower lip fell a fraction of an inch and he stared at the table and children as if he’d never seen either before.

He lifted a finger and turned to Meredith to say something.

“Isn’t it just such fun?” Meredith asked brightly. “We had a food fight. And then we had chocolate warfare. I’m afraid your chandelier became a casualty, but, then, you’ll have such fun hosing it down….”

Blake’s face was getting redder by the instant. He glared at Meredith and went straight through to the kitchen.

Seconds later, Meredith could hear his deep, slow voice giving Amie hell on the half-shell, and then the back door slammed hard enough to shake the room.

Elissa’s twinkling blue eyes met Meredith’s gray ones. “My, my, and he insisted on the dining room? Where do you think he’s gone?”

“To get a hose, I expect,” Meredith commented, and then broke into laughter.

“I wouldn’t laugh too loud,” Elissa cautioned as she helped mop Dani’s face.

The clown arrived just after the children were tidied, and he kept them occupied in the living room with Elissa while Meredith and Amie began the monumental task of cleaning the dining room.

Meredith was on the floor with a wet sponge and carpet cleaner when Blake came in, followed by two rugged looking men wearing uniforms. Without a word, he tugged Meredith up by the arm, took the sponge from her hand, tossed it to one of the men and guided her into the living room.

He left her there without a word. Belatedly she realized that he’d gone to get some cleaning men to take care of the mess. Oddly, it made her want to cry. His thoughtfulness had surprised her. Or maybe it was his conscience. Either way, she thought, it had been kind of him to do that for Amie and her.

Seconds later, Amie was pulled into the living room. She stared at Meredith and shrugged. Then she smiled and sat down to enjoy the clown with the children.

It was, Sarah Jane said after the guests had gone, the best party in the whole world.

“I made five new friends, Merry,” she told Meredith gaily. “And they liked me!”

“Most everyone likes you, darling,” Meredith said, kneeling to hug her. Her white-and-pink dress was liberally stained with chocolate and candy, but that’s what parties were for, Meredith told herself. “Especially me,” she added with a big kiss.

Sarah Jane hugged her tight. “I love you, Merry.” She sighed. “I just wish…”

“Wish what, pet?”

“I wish my daddy loved you,” she said, and her big green eyes looked sadly at Meredith.

Meredith hadn’t realized until then how perceptive Sarah was. Her face lost its glow. She forced a smile. “It’s hard to explain about grown-ups, Sarah,” she said finally. “Your daddy and I have disagreed about some things, that’s all.”

“Why not tell her the truth?” Blake demanded coldly from the doorway. “Why not tell her that your writing comes before she does, and before I do, and that you just don’t care enough to stay home?”

“That’s not true!” Meredith got to her feet, her eyes flashing. “You won’t even listen to my side of it, Blake!”

“Why bother?” He laughed mockingly. “Your side isn’t worth hearing.”

“And yours is?”

Neither of them noticed Sarah Jane’s soft gasp, or the sudden paleness of her little face. Neither of them saw the tears gather in her green eyes and start to flow down her cheeks. Neither of them knew the traumatic effect the argument was having on her, bringing back memories of fights between her mother and stepfather and the violence that had highlighted most of her young life.

She sobbed silently and suddenly turned and slipped from the room, hurrying up the staircase.

“Your pride is going to destroy our marriage,” Meredith raged at Blake. “You just can’t stand the idea of letting me work, or giving me any freedom at all. You want me to stay home and look after Sarah and have babies—”

“Writers don’t have babies,” he said curtly. “It’s too demeaning and limiting.”

She felt her face go pale. “I never said that, Blake,” she said. “I haven’t done anything to prevent a baby.” She lowered her eyes to the carpet and hoped the glitter of her tears wouldn’t show. “I just can’t…can’t seem to get pregnant.”

His breath sighed out roughly. He hadn’t meant to say such a cruel thing. It was cruel, too, judging by the look on her face. She seemed to really want a child, and that warmed him.

He moved forward a little, his hand going out to touch her hair. “I didn’t mean that,” he said awkwardly.

She looked up. There were tears in her eyes. “Blake,” she whispered achingly, and lifted her arms.

He cursed his own vulnerability even as he reached for her, lifting her hard against him, holding her close. “Don’t cry, little one,” he said against her ear as she sobbed out the frustration and loneliness and fear of the past few weeks against his broad shoulder.

“There’s something…something wrong with me,” she wailed.

“No, there isn’t.” He nuzzled his cheek against hers. “Unless you count a husband with an overdose of pride. You’re right. It was just feeling second best, that’s all. You can’t stay home all the time.”

“I promised I’d go on tour,” she said huskily. “I didn’t want to. But then, when I kept not getting pregnant, I hated having so much time to sit and worry about it.” Her arms tightened around his neck. “I wanted to give you a son….”

His arms contracted. He’d never considered that as a reason for her wandering. He’d never dreamed she wanted a child so much.

“We’ve been married only a few weeks,” he whispered at her ear. “And the past several, I’ve been sleeping in another room.” He smiled faintly in spite of himself. “It takes a man and a woman to make babies. You can’t do it by yourself.”

She laughed softly, and he felt warm all over at the sound, because she hadn’t laughed in a long time.

“If you want to get pregnant, Mrs. Donavan, you’ll have to have a little help.”

She drew in a breath and looked into his soft green eyes. “Could you do that for me?” she whispered playfully. “I mean, I know it would be a sacrifice and all, but I’d be sooo grateful.”

He laughed, too. The joy came back into his life again. She was beautiful, he thought, studying her face. And he cared so damned much. His eyes darkened and the smile faded. Cared. No. It was more. Far more than that. He… loved.

“Kiss me,” he said, bending to her soft mouth. “It’s been so long, honey. So long!”

His mouth covered hers hungrily, and she felt her body melting into him, aching for his touch, for the crush of his mouth on her soft lips. She moaned, and his kiss became suddenly ardent and demanding.

“Merry?” Mrs. Jackson called suddenly from the hall.

Blake and Meredith broke apart with breathless reluctance, but there was a strange note in Amie’s usually calm voice.

Meredith moved to the closed door and opened it. “Amie, what is it?” she asked, wondering at the closed door, because it had been open when Sarah was in the room with them—”Where’s Sarah!” Meredith asked suddenly.

Blake felt himself pale when he remembered the argument. Sarah Jane had heard.

Amie grimaced. “I don’t know where she is. I can’t find her,” she said. “She isn’t in her room. And it’s raining outside.”

It was thundering, too. And it was almost dark. Meredith and Blake didn’t waste time on words. They rushed down the hall and out the back door, forgoing rain gear in their haste to find the child they’d unknowingly sent running out into the stormy night.