Her Ideal Man (9 page)

Read Her Ideal Man Online

Authors: Ruth Wind

BOOK: Her Ideal Man
8.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
The Jeep was parked right where she'd left it, a few feet away from what had been an avalanche. A bulldozer was still working on the lower levels, but a path through the tons of earth and snow and tree branches had been cleared.
Tyler whistled softly. “You're damned lucky you didn't get caught in that.”
“Tell me about it.” She scowled. “I'm not sure I'm crazy about driving through that little tunnel, either. Is it safe, do you think?”
“You'll be fine. That's what all-terrain vehicles are all about.”
She pushed the door open. “Okay, then.”
“Anna.”
A sword of anticipation and worry went through her chest. She looked back.
Tyler looked at her very soberly, his pale eyes full of emotion. “I—” He shook his head. He reached out and touched her cheek, very gently, with the backs of his fingers. She saw him swallow. “Drive carefully.”
“Tell your mother I'll see her tomorrow at work,” she said, and got out, closing the door gently behind her. As if this were all perfectly normal, she lifted a hand in a casual farewell and climbed into her own truck. It started immediately, and Anna left it running while she cleared the windows of snow and shoved nearly a foot of snow off the hood.
Then there was nothing to do but climb in, and drive down the mountain. It didn't seem to take very long, and when they reached the main byway through town, Anna felt one more clutch of sorrow as Tyler turned one way and she turned another.
It was done.
 
 
Louise Forrest was dispensing chocolate chip cookies to her grandsons, Curtis and Cody, when Tyler arrived. In a fine fury, by the look of him as he stormed up the driveway. Smiling secretly, she put the cookies away and composed her face before he reached the door. “Curtis, baby, your daddy is here.”
“Oh, boy!” The child jumped down and ran toward the door, hurtling into his father's arms the instant he walked in. “Daddy! I mithed you! Do you got my bear?”
Tyler growled. “I'm a bear,” he said, and chomped playfully at the boy's shoulder. “Will I do?”
“No, my real bear!”
“Well, no, I didn't bring it, Curtis. I thought you were coming home with me. Aren't you?”
Curtis looked over his shoulder. “Gramma. You were thuppothed to tell him.”
Tyler looked at Louise guardedly. “What?”
“Tamara and Lance have to go to Denver, and I told them I'd keep Cody for the weekend. Curtis wants to stay and camp in the basement. Remember how you boys used to love that?”
A dark flicker crossed Tyler's face, and she could see that he wanted the boy home with him. “I don't know—”
“Oh, Tyler Forrest, where is your sense of childhood? Honestly, neither one of these boys has a playmate, and they get lonely.”
“Yeah, Daddy,” Curtis said guilelessly, putting his hands on his father's face.
“Me, too,” Tyler said.
“But you can't be lonely now,” Curtis said. “Miss Anna came to play with you through the whole blizzard.”
Louise stifled a guffaw at that, but not quickly enough. Hot color rushed into Tyler's face, and seeing it, Louise wanted to run into the privacy of the kitchen to do a little victory dance.
She restrained herself as Tyler put Curtis down. “You can stay, but you boys go on and let me talk to your grandma for a minute.”
“Yippee!” they cried, and ran off to the bedroom.
Louise met her son's eyes. The stain of his anger or embarrassment—or likely both—highlighted the finely crafted planes of his cheekbones, and she thought with a motherly sense of satisfaction that he was a very handsome man. All three of her boys were good-looking, of course, but where Lance was rakish and Jake dangerous, there was an air of romanticism about Tyler. “Come on in the kitchen,” she said, taking the opening move. “I've got some dishes to wash right quick.”
“Mother.”
The word was autocratic. She raised her brows. “Yes?”
“What were you thinking?”
“About what?”
His eyes narrowed. “Don't play that game with me. I watched you set up Jake, and watched him take that fall, and you may have been right to do it, because I see my brother is a much happier man.” His mouth hardened. “But don't you dare try matchmaking me again, do you understand?”
Louise sobered at the genuine anger in his voice. “Tyler, I wasn't trying to matchmake you, just trying to help you see that your world doesn't have to be so isolated.”
He looked down, and she had a sense of a struggle coming from him, as hot and wild as she could have hoped for, but she also sensed that she might have been wrong this time. His jaw went hard after a moment, and his eyes were hard crystal points when he raised his gaze. “Mama, she's a nice girl, but that's a heart that could be shattered into a million pieces. Is that what you want?”
Louise thought of the exuberant young woman who had brought so much zest into her life in the past few months. “No, son,” she said quietly, and sank down into a chair. “That isn't what I want at all.”
“Then stay out of it.” His control wavered; and Louise saw a bright, hot pain flash in his eyes before he cloaked himself again in stoicism. “Just mind your own business.”
“I'm sorry, Tyler,” she said sincerely.
He sighed, then relented and kissed her head. “I know. I'll see you Monday, I guess.”
Before he could go, however, Louise had to ask. “Is she okay?”
He looked away, and on the flesh of his neck, Louise saw what his collar had hidden until now, the dark bruising made only in passion. “I don't honestly know,” he said in a soft voice.
Pretending she had seen nothing, Louise nodded. “She's a lot stronger than she looks, kiddo. Trust me.”
She watched as he made his way back to his truck, feeling a curious mixture of hope and worry at the uncommon disturbance surrounding her son. He'd genuinely loved his wife, and if Louise had always thought Kara a bit too shallow and controlling to be a good wife to Tyler, it had only been her own opinion and hadn't changed the way he'd felt about her. His grief had been acute and deep, and Louise had always suspected. that it was only for Curtis that Tyler hadn't given up and followed the woman to the grave.
Thank God.
But his loneliness had begun to eat at her the past year. He likely didn't even know it showed, the way he watched his brothers with their wives, the way he sat off by himself at gatherings. She thought of him, all alone at night, so far from female companionship, and felt sad for him.
Anna had never admitted her crush on Tyler, but Louise wasn't blind. The girl's eyes shone like diamonds when her son appeared. And Louise had not missed the restlessness Ty showed when Anna was around. He couldn't sit still. He paced and prowled and growled like some cornered forest creature, and Louise had thought it was a very good thing. He was attracted to the vibrance of the exuberant Anna.
Biting her lip, Louise wondered if she'd been wrong. Anna would pay the price for this matchmaking attempt, not Louise. Louise had only wanted to give Tyler a chance, to let him find out he was still really alive, but she hadn't stopped to imagine what the consequences of failing would be.
For Anna. Louise had not thought enough about poor Anna.
Chapter 9
W
inter in the mountains was long, and as much as she enjoyed it, by the end of January, Anna was beginning to weary of it. They would not see real spring until almost May, and the thought depressed her. Worse than the snows and the long, gloomy nights were the falsely bright January days that brought skiers to town in droves, crowding restaurants and the streets and even the grocery store, where Anna had to wait in line for what seemed like hours even when she ran in for a gallon of milk.
She supposed it was self-defense that made her so sleepy. Like a bear, she would just hibernate the rest of the season. For a week now, she'd been slow to awaken, lost in a thick dream world where flowers bobbed on the high slopes and the skiers had mercifully departed until next season.
 
One morning she overslept, never even stirring when the alarm went off. Only heaven knew how long she would have drifted in that sunny, narcotically spring-scented world if the phone had not awakened her.
“Anna?” It was Louise, and for a long, long minute, Anna couldn't seem to drag herself close enough to the real world to even speak. She nodded, blinking, then realized Louise couldn't see her.
“Honey, did I wake you up? Do you know what time it is?”
She looked at the clock. As if splashed with water, she sat straight up, remembering that it was Saturday, and in exactly one hour and forty-five minutes a special living-history presentation would begin at the museum. Anna had about twenty stops to make between now and then.
“I'm up,” she said. “I'm sorry, I overslept. I'll be by in twenty minutes for the baked goods. Are they ready?”
“Do you want me to have someone else come fetch them? Or I can take them down in about an hour, if that would be easier. The last bit of peanut brittle is almost done, but I can't leave it.”
Anna tossed her hair out of her eyes. “No,” she said. “I'll just jump, in the shower and be there in a minute.”
“Are you all right?”
Anna laughed bemusedly. “I feel great, except I sleep like a hibernating bear.”
“You'll feel better when spring comes.” Louise paused. “You aren't going to run off on me like all the rest of them, are you? You will get used to the winter here in time.”
Anna smiled. “I have no intention of going anywhere, Louise. I signed a contract for three years, and I won't leave you. I'll get used to it—or at least learn to live with it.”
“You will. We all get the blues this time of year. Trust me, if an old Texan girl could get used to it, it'll be a piece of cake for a New Yorker.”
“I will, Louise. Don't worry. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.”
She raced through her shower, and left her hair to do its wild curl bit on her shoulders, without bothering with a barrette. She didn't have to be dressed professionally, since she would change into a costume when she arrived at the museum, and it was a good thing, since nothing fit. Her appetite had also increased—as if she really were going into hibernation, she was ravenous all day long. She hadn't checked the actual gain on a scale, but by the fit of her clothes, she'd put on about ten pounds in a couple of months. At this rate, she'd be as
big
as a bear by spring. She scowled and resolved to pay attention to what she put in her mouth from now on.
Naturally, because she was running so late this morning, the one bra that was still relatively comfortable broke a strap when she put it on, and she had to squeeze herself into another one that she hated, not only for the strangling fit, but also for a weird thread problem that always irritated her skin. Her good jeans were in the laundry, and she had to toss through the drawers looking for another pair that would still button.
At least her red sweater was clean, and it loaned her enough color that she could get away without makeup, which saved another ten minutes. Scrambling through the cupboards, she found half a sleeve of pecan sandies and two apples. The fridge was even worse—a chunk of cheese and a bottle of lemonade.
She'd start paying attention to her diet tomorrow, she thought, and grabbed everything and tossed it all into a canvas bag. Taking the list of errands from the bulletin board on the wall, she hit the Jeep at a run, her boots squeaking on the frozen snow in her yard.
In spite of the irritating need to rush, once she got outside, her spirits soared. It was a crisp, cold day, the sky blazing with bright morning sunlight that made of the mountains an elegant blue-and-white tapestry strung across the horizon.
She ate as she drove, gobbling most of the cookies and all the cheese and the lemonade between trips to the bank, the cleaners and the house of an elderly docent who had made three costumes for the volunteers. She ate one of the apples on the way up the hill to Louise's palatial home.
As she parked, she caught sight of Tyler's blue pickup, and her heart sank. She'd managed very nicely to avoid him over the past couple of months, but in a town this small, and especially considering that he was the son of a good friend of hers, there was no avoiding him forever. She'd known that, but it still made her feel oddly queasy to think of actually seeing him again.
Steeling herself, she got out of the Jeep. Curtis, blond and getting lanky, appeared on the front porch. “Miss Anna!” he cried, and tumbled down the steps to fling himself into her arms.
His happiness touched her, and Anna knelt to his level to grab him and give him a big hug. “Good morning, Curtis! Did you come to town for the living history?”
“Yep. I got a raccoon hat and everything.”
She chuckled. “Well, if you come by where I'm working, I'll let you chum butter. You want?”
“Sure!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Anna saw Tyler come out of the house. Instantly, her stomach tightened, and her heart flipped. He looked so good, straight and tall and beautiful in the morning light, his mage's eyes so clear and deep and unreadable. For the most fleeting of seconds, she thought she glimpsed the same upset and hunger in his eyes that she felt, but then her stomach roiled violently.
Urgently.
“Excuse me,” she said, almost dropping Curtis. She raced by Tyler and into the house, and barely made it to the bathroom before losing the entire contents of her stomach in a quick, violent rush.
“Jeez, girl,” she said to herself. “Could you be any more dramatic?” She bent over the sink to rinse her mouth and face, touching her forehead to see if she might have picked up a flu bug or something. Nothing but cool flesh. And the truth was, her stomach felt fine now. Too much junk food.
She straightened, using her wet hands to tame a few wild black curls back into place. And for the first time in days, she really
saw
herself. The red sweater made her skin practically glow, even without makeup, and her eyes were as clear and bright as a child's. All that sleep had made her look about five years younger than she was and the extra weight didn't disagree with her.
In fact—she yanked at the neckline of the simple scoop neck of the sweater, scowling at the surprising amount of curvy flesh spilling over the neckline—she looked amazingly voluptuous. She scowled, trying to cover the tops of her breasts decently. She was going to look like the town prostitute in her costume, with its square neckline.
It must be the wretched, uncomfortable bra that had rearranged her curves like this, because heaven knew she'd never, ever had cleavage. Not in all her life—
Knowledge fell on her.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, staring at her vivid coloring, the lushness of breasts, the red of her lips. With a hand that suddenly trembled, she touched her breasts, then her belly, thinking back.
There was a joke in her family that the women never grew real breasts until they had a baby who needed them. They were all skinny and rather slimly built until they had children. Anna had seen her sisters go from girls to voluptuous women, one after the other.
And more than that, they had all been dazzling. Her father joked that he'd made Anna's mother pregnant so often because she was so extraordinarily beautiful when she carried a child. One of Anna's cousins, pregnant at sixteen out of wedlock, had been able to hide everything about her condition except that extraordinary Madonna glow.
“Oh, my God,” she said again. It was impossible, but it was a fact.
“Anna!” Tyler knocked on the door, hard. “Are you all right?”
She closed her eyes and took a breath, then yanked open the door. “I'm fine,” she said, tossing her hair from her face to look up at him. “Just pregnant.”
 
Tyler stared down at her, fighting waves of furious desire. When she stepped out of her truck wearing that red sweater, her black hair loose and tumbling around her face, he'd been assailed by a vision of storming across the yard, and taking her there on the hood of the car, right there, right now. It appalled him. He didn't feel like this about women.
Not even Kara.
He hated her for it. Hated the surge of bone-deep yearning he felt now, looking at her up close, close to that devourable mouth, the sparkling black eyes, the smell of her hair and her flesh that made him remember all kinds of things he was trying to forget. He stared down at her blankly, until the words finally penetrated. “What?”
She pushed by him. “You heard me. I think maybe that doctor of yours didn't do such a great job.”
“What?” He grabbed her arm, having trouble working his mind around to what those words meant. “You're pregnant?”
She sighed. “I'm as surprised as you are. I haven't had a test, but I can tell you it's for sure.”
“Wait. You mean it's
mine?”
“Tyler, I'm late. I have to go.” She pulled away. “We'll talk later.”
“Damn it, Anna, talk to me. This is impossible.”
“Not impossible. It happens, you know.” She backed away. “I'm sorry, I have to go right now.”
She rushed out, leaving Tyler staring after her in stunned bewilderment.
His mother rushed past him. “Anna, don't forget the brittle!” she cried, carrying the neatly wrapped plate. She gave it to Anna, who took it and bolted.
Louise came back through the hallway, wiping her hands on her apron. He could tell by her expression that she'd heard the whole exchange, but she didn't say a word, only looked at him.
“Is that possible?” he finally asked.
“That she's pregnant?”
“No, that it's mine.” He couldn't work his mind around the revelation. “I had a vasectomy. I thought—”
Louise narrowed her eyes. The cornflower-blue irises glinted dangerously. “If you're telling me you slept with her and she's pregnant and you're not sure if it's yours, then you'd better get yourself to a doctor and have them run one of those tests to check your sperm count. Because if you didn't do it, it's an immaculate conception, and while I think she's a fine woman, I don't think she's quite ready for sainthood.”
Tyler flushed, in anger and confusion and embarrassment. A man didn't talk about things like this with his mother, for Pete's sake. “I didn't mean I doubted her. I just didn't know that it could happen.”
“You had a vasectomy, son?”
He nodded.
“When Kara got pregnant, I suppose.” She sighed and put her hand on his arm. “I'm sorry. I wish you'd told me. It would have made things make a lot more sense.”
“What things, Mama?” He turned away. “Kara's desperation to have Curtis, maybe?”
“Your guilt,” she said simply. “Come on in here and sit down. Let's have a cup of tea and talk for just a minute.”
“No.” The word came out harshly. He took a breath. “It's not you. I just need to think about this.” He shook his head. “Do you see what happens when you butt in where you don't belong, Mama? Will you please stay out of other people's lives?”
That hurt her. Tyler saw the shine of tears in her eyes before she turned away, lifting her chin. “I was wrong,” she said. “I'm sorry.” She looked at him. “If there's anything I can do to help put things right, just say the word.”
“Ah, damn.” The wounded expression in her eyes made him bend down and hug her close. “What am I going to do?”
She squeezed him tight and pulled back to press a kiss to his cheek. “You'll work it out, son. I have faith in you.”
“Can Curtis go with you to the museum for a little while? I need to do a couple of things. I can pick him up in a hour, two at the most.”
“Sure. You know where the booth is. I'll be there all afternoon.”
“Thanks.”
From a corner of the dining room where they stood, Curtis piped up, “Miss Anna's going to have a baby?”

Other books

Wakening the Crow by Stephen Gregory
The Lost by Caridad Pineiro
Life Drawing by Robin Black
Morgan’s Run by Mccullough, Colleen
Black Skies by Leo J. Maloney
Csardas by Pearson, Diane
Conquering Sabrina by Arabella Kingsley