Authors: Bobbie O'Keefe
“That would be prudent. You’re salivating.”
For supper that evening, Reed cooked steaks on the
propane grill, along with corn on the cob still in their husks. They continued
to share dinner, the main meal of the day, with the Lone Tree group—at least
Reed did—but they’d grown into the habit of quiet suppers on their own. The
salad was ready and the table was set, leaving Lainie free to sit in the shade
and watch Reed watch the steaks. Today’s shirt was a vivid red and dark-blue
print that darkened his eyes, and he very nicely filled out those jeans.
He glanced idly at her a few times, then gave her a
direct look. “What?”
“Too bad there’s not a lawn around here you could go
mow.”
His brows drew together. “Huh?”
At the same time that Lainie was enjoying the cool
fall air, she was also very much aware that time was passing. Sitting alone in
the office one afternoon, she tipped her desk chair back and stared at the wall
with impatience that bordered on annoyance. She disliked brooding even more
than indecision, and too often of late she’d been guilty of both.
The pleasant fall weather would soon be gone, winter
would take its place, and if she wanted to stick around she needed to outfit
herself for the cold. She should be heading for home, not even thinking about
shopping, yet she delayed, knowing how difficult it would be to sever ties with
Reed. She could’ve kicked herself for allowing the relationship to form in the
first place. She’d known better, done it anyway, and now they’d both pay the
price.
Once she got to California, Lainie planned to write
and explain herself to Miles. Neither she nor he would be obligated to the
other and she could wait and see what happened. That was a coward’s way out,
but far safer than a confrontation; she’d thought it through every which way
and couldn’t see a way around what most likely would become a major clash.
Miles didn’t forgive mistakes nor did he accept a change of heart in others, as
evidenced by the scene she’d witnessed with Willis. Since family transgressions
were more personal, they’d be dealt with even more severely.
He’d need time to come to grips with the death of
his daughter, to sort through the last twenty-five years as well as these past
months, and to accept the fact that he had a grandchild. If he exploded, Lainie
didn’t trust herself to meekly accept whatever he wanted to throw at her.
They’d each need distance.
Second-guessing herself at this stage was a waste of
time, yet she couldn’t help doing it. But even if she could go back to when her
mother had died and she’d first found the letter, she doubted she’d do anything
differently. The fact remained she’d wanted to know who Miles Auburn was before
inviting him into her life.
The phone rang, breaking into her reverie.
“Lone Tree Ranch. Lainie speaking.”
“Hi,” Jackie said. “I’m thinkin’ I need a break and
was also thinking you need a decent coat to get through winter.”
“Well, yeah. Funny, I was just thinking—”
“Next week I’m taking Monday and Tuesday off. How
about we head for one of the big towns with all kinds of department stores,
check out the hotels until one strikes our fancy, then rent ourselves a room
and stash a bottle of wine in it? We can hit the stores, get you outfitted for
winter, and then stay up half the night and gab.”
Stay till spring? As long as she was in this far, go
for a full year?
Lainie leaned back, crossed her legs and cradled the
phone at her ear. “I’d love to.”
The next week, she and Jackie hit every mall in
Farber, and shopped for more than a winter wardrobe. If she was going to stay
through Christmas, Lainie wanted to be prepared.
She got fancy cowboy scarves for the men and found a
señorita-style blouse in vivid orange for Rosalie. It’d be beautiful on her
with her dark hair and eyes. For Jackie, Lainie already knew what she wanted.
In the Western Emporium she’d seen an embroidered vest that was perfect. She also
knew what she wanted for Nelly, and could put that together at any time. Miles
was a problem, however. She had no idea what to get for him, and found nothing
in the bigger town with all its stores that interested her either.
Buying for Reed was like buying for herself. His
pillows were lumpy and shapeless, and she for one didn’t want to put up with
them any longer. She found two fluffy feather pillows, had them boxed and
wrapped, and then she was through.
When she grinned at Jackie over the top of the big
box, Jackie grinned back, laden by her own bags and boxes.
“You’re a good influence on me, girl. I won’t be
running myself ragged on Christmas Eve again this year like I usually do.” Then
Jackie’s smile turned into a frown as her gaze swept the store’s counters and
displays. “There an exit anywhere around here?”
Lainie pointed at the escalator.
“Yeah, that oughta do it.”
They ate prime rib in the hotel’s dining room, along
with baked potatoes slathered in butter, and they shared their first bottle of
Zinfandel. Another one was stashed in their room, and once upstairs they made a
real slumber party out of it: painting fingernails and toenails, sipping wine,
and sharing secrets and giggling fits. As the wine loosened their tongues,
Lainie considered revealing her relationship to Miles. She came close, very
close, to confiding in Jackie as they sat on the edges of the twin beds, facing
each other.
Then she noticed her friend’s mood had sobered.
Jackie appeared to be staring at the window, but she
seemed so preoccupied that Lainie doubted she actually saw it. Then, probably
becoming aware of Lainie’s attention, Jackie met her gaze. “I told you about
Carl Henry?”
So that was it. Lainie nodded.
Jackie lowered her gaze, appearing
uncharacteristically tentative. She smoothed wrinkles in her pajamas. “My first
time,” she said softly, “was supposed to be special. I decided when I was just
a little girl that it was going to be on my wedding night, and not until then.”
Lainie felt her eyes widen. “You’re married?”
“Not many people know it. But, yes, I married him.”
She looked up, her expression going pained. “I never used his name. After he
went to prison I legally changed my name back to Cooper. But divorce was...is
different.” Her voice dropped an octave, and again she lowered her gaze to her
knees. “He’d be served papers and I’m afraid to do that. My folks say...well,
you heard my daddy. They want me to be free of him, but...”
It appeared to Lainie that Jackie had aged ten years
in the last two minutes.
Jackie sighed heavily, and then went on in a
monotone. “We eloped the day after my eighteenth birthday. It seemed so
romantic then, but it didn’t take long for me to see how selfish it was to do
that. I wanted our first night to be in a fancy hotel, in a room with a window
overlooking the city and the lights.”
She was silent for so long then that Lainie prompted
her. “What happened?”
“Well, I got my fancy room and a window with a
view.” Jackie’s expression hardened, but in a brittle way, as if it could
shatter.
“What happened?” Lainie repeated, voice gentle.
“It wasn’t lovemaking,” she whispered. “Not by any
definition. It was rape.”
“Oh, hell.” Lainie closed her eyes.
“It wasn’t that I wasn’t willing, at least not at
first. I think he was so mean and rough because he wanted me to try to stop it,
try to stop him. That was the way he wanted it.” Her hand trembled when she
reached for her glass. “I’ve wondered since, over and over again, why he
married me. Why he led me on for so long, not showing his true self. Maybe
because I was so easy to fool. I was so stupid. Stupid and naive.”
She sipped wine, using both hands to hold the glass.
“He has family, or at least he did. His dad died just before I met him, and
then his mom moved away. I felt so sorry for him. Seemed like he’d lost both
his parents at the same time.”
She grew quiet, shuddered, then said, “I’m scared of
him, Lainie. He won’t pay attention to divorce; it’d only make him madder. He’s
in prison, will be for a couple more years, but he’ll get out eventually and...and
I’m afraid of him.”
“He didn’t break you, Jackie. What some people can
do to others staggers the mind, but you got past what he did. You’ve got
gumption and heart. He didn’t take that away.”
“It was just three weeks—and he was away a lot of that
time, I thank my lucky stars—before he was arrested and convicted and was gone
from my life.” Again she shuddered. “For a while.”
Lainie drained her wine glass and set it down with a
snap. She feared that pain and fear such as what Jackie had lived through could
follow one throughout one’s life. “I surely hope he’s not the only sexual
partner you’ll ever know,” she said under her breath.
Jackie’s gaze skittered away, then her head turned
away as well. Lainie leaned to her side to see her friend’s expression. She
could swear her face had changed color. “Jackie?”
“I do declare, girl. I’m blushing and you’re not.
How’d that happen?”
Lainie’s heart lifted. She settled back. “Well,
good. Willis? I couldn’t be happier for you. And as far as the blush goes,
you’re doing that to yourself.”
“Reckon so. Same as you always do.”
Jackie’s glass was empty. She filled it halfway and
looked questioningly at Lainie, who shook her head. She was going to have a
headache tomorrow as it was.
“Yes, Willis.” Jackie’s sigh held shy and gentle
reminiscence. “Almost a year ago now.”
Lainie had seen the man through Miles’s eyes, who’d
had no respect for his professionalism. But seeing him through Jackie’s eyes
warmed her heart.
“We saw each other off and on,” Jackie went on. “But
not really steady like, for a long time. We didn’t mean for it to happen. It
wasn’t supposed to happen.” She looked around the room, seemingly at every
object in the room. “I liked being with him...he didn’t push...I felt safe...then,
when, well...you know.”
Lainie smiled at this embarrassed, little-girl side
of Jackie Lyn.
“I learned...” As her voice again trailed away,
Jackie’s eyes found Lainie’s. “He was gentle. He was kind. He cared about me
and I found out that there is a beautiful side to it. I was scared to death to
let him touch me, but, when, well...it was good.”
“But you broke it off,” Lainie said softly.
“I had to.” Jackie sat up straighter. “Even if I
wasn’t married to Carl Henry, I know what he’s capable of. And it wasn’t fair
to Willis. I had to break it off.” Her gaze rested on the walnut nightstand
between the beds. Silence fell between them, and then when Jackie next looked
up, her expression was clearer. And when she said, “Enough about me,” her voice
was lighter, as if she’d shoved the past back behind her again where it
belonged. “You got any special dreams? Little girl dreams or grown up ones?”
Because Jackie needed a lighter subject, Lainie just
smiled at the question. But then, as a thought struck her, she said, feeling a
little wistful, “Well, yeah. Maybe I do. In California, at least where I grew
up, all you can see are utility poles, electrical wires, phone wires and cable
and what have you. So much so it seemed like there was no sky left. Out here,
on the ranch and in the country, all there is, is sky. And, since Reed and I...well...I
can’t help thinking about camping out, sleeping under the stars, looking up at
that gorgeous sky and making love in the moonlight. I can’t think of anything
more beautiful and romantic.”
“If you’d told Reed about this wish of yours, I
kinda think your dream would’ve done been fulfilled,” Jackie said dryly. “I
tell you, girl, sometimes I worry about your smarts.”
“But I’ve never gone camping.” Lainie felt
disconcerted, as if she’d been presented with a jackhammer and told to build a
bridge. “I don’t know how.”
“Don’t you think maybe he does?”
“Oh. Well, yes, of course he does.” Lainie laughed
at herself—well, of course he did. If she wanted to spend the night in a
sleeping bag, camping out under the Texas moon, all she had to do was ask Reed.
And it would happen.
The day after she returned from Farber, Lainie sat
at her desk, hand guiding the cursor across the monitor screen, thinking she
was alone until someone planted a kiss on the back of her neck. She almost
jumped off the chair.
“Oh, for...Reed Smith, you scared me out of a year!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to go camping?”
She thought about the particulars of this piece of
information for about three seconds—and how many people it must have gone
through before getting to Reed—and then she cradled her head in her arms atop
the desk.
“I’ll kill her.” Her voice was muffled. “So help me,
I will.”
He laughed and smoothed her hair.
“I hope she went straight to you,” she mumbled, and
then looked up. “Or maybe you shouldn’t tell me. Maybe I don’t really want to
know.”
He chuckled, but didn’t elaborate.