Denim and Lace (14 page)

“And got into an argument.”

“Yes. She did argue back at least. She's not the same pliable little Bess she used to be, and she's got some spunk now. But I pushed her over the edge,” he said bitterly. “I just want her to get well.” His hands tightened around the hot cup. “You can't imagine what it did to me when I saw the other car fly around the corner and knew it was going to hit her.” His eyes closed with a shudder as it all came flooding back. “Then I had to stand there and wait while the ambulance and rescue units got to her. My God, I almost went crazy. I couldn't get her out, and she was unconscious and badly hurt.” He lifted the cup and took a small sip. “I thought I'd lost her.”

“She's going to be all right.” Elise smiled. “And you know she isn't blaming you, because she called for you after she came out of the coma.”

“I can't be sure that it wasn't because of the drugs,” he replied. “But even if she doesn't blame me, I blame myself, don't you see? Gussie's right. Bess is too gentle for a man like me. I can't help the way I am. It will take a strong woman to live with me.”

“I loved your father, Cade,” Elise replied, reading his thoughts. “He was a hard man, and he hurt me sometimes with his temper and his...one affair, just before he died,” she said, with a haunted look in her eyes. “But I loved him, and in his way he loved me. It wasn't a modern relationship by any means, because Coleman never changed diapers or gave bottles or offered to help with the housework.” She laughed softly. “I couldn't have imagined him doing those things. But he took care of me and you boys, he provided for us, and I wouldn't change one single thing about my life.”

“What worked then won't work today,” he said simply. “And I can't risk browbeating Bess that way.”

“If she loves you, and you care about her, why don't you let those things work themselves out?”

“It isn't that easy.” He drank the rest of his coffee. “She's a debutante. She's used to wealth and society and a different kind of life than I could give her. Ryker can give her everything she wants.”

“Are you sure?” Elise asked seriously. “Because Bess doesn't seem mercenary to me.”

“Her mother is,” Cade returned. “And you, of all people, know what Gussie is. She hasn't let go of Bess. She may never let go. Bess looked crushed when I told her to take Gussie back. I didn't know she'd thrown her out in the first place.” He sighed at his mother's shocked expression. “You knew I didn't want Gussie on Lariat.”

“Yes, I knew. But she hadn't anyplace to stay. She said she couldn't go back to Bess, although I didn't tell you that.” Elise toyed with her napkin. “Gussie isn't a bad woman, Cade,” she said, braving his temper. “She's what life has made her. I don't hold any grudges for what happened. It hurt very badly at the time, but Coleman is dead, and vendettas are a waste of emotional energy. Gussie and I were good friends before your father died. Besides that, Cade, we're churchgoing people. That means I have to believe in forgiveness. It's much more your war than mine now, dear.”

He glared at her. “How can you stick up for her?”

She looked up. “I'm human enough to resent her part in Coleman's death,” she replied. “But neither of us ever asked her side of it. We simply blamed her on circumstantial evidence.”

“It was cut-and-dried—”

“No.” She put her hand over his. “We loved Coleman. We reacted to his death in a normal way. One day I want to hear Gussie's side of it. You can't live on hate, Cade.”

“I'm not trying to live on it. I just don't want Gussie around.”

“Well, there isn't much choice right now, is there? Bess can't stay in that apartment by herself, and Gussie will be less help than no one at all. She'll have a catering firm around to fix meals, and Bess will have a relapse when she sees the bills,” she added with a twinkle in her dark eyes.

Cade laughed in spite of himself. “I guess so. You want to take them both back to Lariat, don't you?”

Elise smiled. “I like taking care of people. I wanted to be a nurse, but my father wouldn't hear of it. Back then ladies didn't work, you see,” she whispered conspiratorially, “and certainly not in jobs that involved bathing men.”

Cade's own eyes twinkled. “I can see my father letting you bathe him,” he murmured, tongue in cheek.

Elise colored delicately, even at her age, and lowered her eyes. “You probably won't believe this, but I never once saw your father completely undressed. Our generation wasn't as laid-back—is that the word?—as yours.”

“Laid-back is something city men are,” he said dryly. “I'm bristling with old-fashioned ideas myself. But Robert and Gary are definitely laid-back. I suppose Gary told you that he wants to move in with Jennifer before they marry.”

Elise grimaced. “I know. I don't approve.”

“Neither do I, but short of locking him in the smokehouse, I don't see how we can stop him. He's twenty-five.”

She nodded. “Well, they're engaged, and very much in love, and they're getting married.” She shrugged. “The world has changed.”

“Not in ways I like,” he said. “But I guess it was inevitable. Back in the roaring twenties everybody thought the younger generation was going straight to hell, with booze and loose morals and women smoking and swearing, didn't they?” He chuckled. “Then came the thirties and forties, and it was back to early-Victorian attitudes.”

“Indeed it was,” his mother said, smiling reminiscently. “I remember trying on a pair of slacks just a few years before you were born, and Coleman had a fit! He made me take them back, because it wasn't decent for a woman to wear pants.”

He glanced at her neat beige pantsuit. “He'd roll over in his grave now.”

“Oh, I did finally wear him down,” she asserted. “In his old age he was much more tolerant of new attitudes.” Her eyes stared off into space. “I do miss him so terribly, Cade.”

“Enough of that. You'll cry, and everyone will think it's my fault.”

She pulled herself back and laughed. “As if you'd care.”

“I care about you,” he said gently, and smiled. “Even if you only hear that once or twice every ten years.”

“Actions speak louder than words, don't they say?” She touched his hand gently. “You've taken great care of me, my darling. I hope you haven't decided to stay a bachelor, because you have the strength to be a very happy family man. You should marry and have children.”

He stared at the graceful, wrinkled hand holding his and gave it a squeeze. “Maybe when I can get us a little further out of debt, I'll be able to think about it.”

“Don't wait too long,” Elise cautioned.

He nodded, but he was preoccupied and brooding. He only hoped that Bess hadn't been delirious when she'd said that he was her world. He didn't know if they could surmount the obstacles in their way, but more and more he wanted to try.

* * *

B
ESS
DRIFTED
IN
and out of consciousness for the next two days. Cade had to leave her side long enough to put his brother Robert in charge of Lariat while he was away and delegate a meeting to Gary, but he came back prepared to stay the duration. Gussie, amazingly, had stayed, too, and so had Elise. Cade got two rooms at a nearby motel for himself and his mother, within walking distance of the hospital.

On the third day after the wreck, Bess had been moved into a semiprivate room, where she lay propped up in bed worrying about her insurance while Cade sprawled lazily in a chair beside the bed and watched her.

“I've got coverage,” she said, “but I think it only pays 80 percent. What will I do?”

“What the rest of us do,” he mused. “Pay it off on the installment plan. You surely don't think that I pay cash for cattle when I buy them?”

“Well, yes, I did,” she confessed. Her poor bruised face was still swollen, and she was having some pain in her side from the bruised ribs. The stitches in her abdomen bothered her, but she hadn't yet asked the reason for them. Apparently some internal damage had been done, but she hadn't been lucid enough to ask the doctor what was wrong.

Cade looked drawn and worn-out. She found it surprising that he was still around when she was obviously recovering all right. It was difficult to talk to him, because mostly he sat and scowled at the nurses and aides who came and went in the room and looked unapproachable. The argument they'd had before the accident was fresh in Bess's mind, and she imagined it was fresh in Cade's, as well. He was a responsible man. Guilt would be eating him, because he'd think he had caused her to drive recklessly and get into the wreck.

“You and Gussie are coming back to Lariat with us,” he said out of the blue. “Mother figured that Gussie would hire professional caterers to prepare meals for you and bankrupt you in a week.”

Bess sighed wearily, and she didn't smile. “Most likely she would.” Her drowsy eyes lifted to his. “But I don't want to impose on you,” she added quietly. “You've got enough people to look after without being landed with us. And I know how you feel about Gussie.” Her eyes lowered. “And about me.”

He felt himself go stiff at the memory of the things he'd accused her of. “I suit myself as a rule, Bess,” he replied easily. “If I didn't want you there, believe me, I could find reasons to leave you in San Antonio.”

Bess grimaced. He felt sorry for her. Worse, he felt guilty. “It wasn't your fault,” she murmured. “I didn't have to run like a shell-shocked thirteen-year-old and take my temper out on the car.”

His dark eyes slid over her face. “I never meant to let it go that far. And despite the impression I might have given, I'd never have forced you,” he said.

She felt her cheeks go hot at the memory.

Cade uncrossed his legs and got up, standing at the window with his hands in his gray pants pockets. “Looking back isn't going to help the situation, Bess,” he said. “I can't take back what happened.” He turned toward her. “But I can give you a place to heal and take care of you and Gussie until you're back on your feet. I owe you that much.”

She wanted to throw his offer back in his face, but she couldn't afford to. She sighed miserably and lowered her eyes to his boots. At least he didn't know how much she still cared for him. That was her ace in the hole. “I appreciate the gesture,” she said. “And I won't embarrass you with any blatant displays of undying love.”

His breath quickened. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn't mind blatant displays, that it would be heaven to have her run after him the way she used to. But he'd hurt her too badly this time, and the differences were still there. It was too soon.

“I ran into your doctor outside in the hall,” he said to break the silence. “He said that if you keep improving, you can be discharged Friday. He'll take your stitches out before you leave, and I can run you back up here for your checkup in two weeks.”

“When can I go back to work?”

“When he releases you.”

He sounded irritable, and she imagined he felt it, too, being trapped by his own guilt into having two houseguests he hated added to his troubles.

“Maybe if I talk to Julie, she'll let me work on my assignment while I'm at your place,” she said. “I've got everything I need at the apartment. I could pay you rent for Mother and me...”

He said something harsh under his breath, then added more loudly, “Don't you ever offer me money again.”

She felt the blood draining out of her face. “Why?” she asked. “Because you think I'll get it from my rich lover?”

He stared at her without blinking. “Gussie admitted that she had exaggerated,” he said. “And I overreacted.”

“How kind of you to admit it,” she replied with more spirit than she knew she had. “But it's a day late and a dollar short. I don't owe you any explanations, so you just think what you like. And I won't go to Lariat with you. I'll stay in the apartment with Mother. That should please you,” she added with a false smile, “since the entire purpose of your visit was to make sure she left Lariat.”

He moved away from the bed, his hands in his pants pockets, his dark hair catching the overhead light and gleaming like a raven's back. “That wasn't the entire purpose of it,” he said quietly. “But this isn't the time or place to discuss what brought me there.”

“What you said about my mother...and your father,” she persisted, “was it true?”

“Ask your mother, Bess,” he said shortly. “I can only give you one side of it. And as my mother is fond of saying, there are two sides to everything. I never bothered to ask for Gussie's. I took what I saw at face value.”

“It's hard to believe. She loved my father.”

He stopped at the foot of the bed and stared at her intently for a long moment. “Are you experienced enough now to know that love and desire can exist separately?”

She glared at him. “You ought to know.”

His eyebrow arched. “I know about desire,” he mused. “Love is a different animal altogether.”

Her fingers curled into the sheet, and she looked at it instead of him. “Trust you to compare it to something with four legs,” she muttered.

“Where does Ryker fit into your life?” he asked, hoping to catch her off guard.

She lifted her eyes to his. “Jordan Ryker is none of your business. As you've gone to great pains to tell me, I'm out of your league. I'm decorative and useless and I may someday have to have my mother surgically removed from my back.”

He laughed. He didn't mean to, because it wasn't funny, but the way she put it touched something inside him, and relief and delight mingled in the deep sound that escaped his throat.

“For two cents I'd tell Gussie what you just said.”