Never Again Good-Bye (14 page)

But after turning out the light, Wes withdrew to the couch, and she closed her eyes again. Laney tried not to think how appealing he looked with his hair damp from the shower. But there was no way to block out that fresh scent of soap that wafted over the air …

W
es lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, willing his senses to ignore the apricot scent that teased him whenever she was near.

Viciously, he turned over on his side and wadded his pillow under his head, wishing he’d never come up with the noble idea of sleeping on this couch.

He ground his teeth and buried his face in the pillow. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Twelve

F
or the first time in many months, the smell of coffee woke Wes. Slowly he opened his eyes and stretched as much as he could on the narrow couch. He glanced across at the bed and saw that Laney had gotten up and made it up behind her. She had probably hurried out, he thought, to avoid the intimacy of morning.

Sliding his feet to the floor, Wes sat on the edge of the couch, a little disappointed. He could hear her puttering in the kitchen, and he wondered if she’d slept at all. Had she been too nervous, too tense, too self-conscious to lie there until he woke?

He got up and folded his blankets, hiding the evidence of where he’d slept from Amy. When he stepped into the bathroom, he breathed in the sweet scent of apricots drifting on the steam from Laney’s shower. The feminine fragrance reminded him how much he had missed having a woman in his house.

Going back into the bedroom, he pulled open a drawer and grabbed a shirt. It was then that his eyes fell on the check lying on the dresser next to his wallet.

He picked it up, every muscle in his body going rigid. Laney had written him a check for a phenomenal amount of money—enough to pay off Patrice’s hospital debts and bail out his home and business. It should have felt like an answered prayer, but instead, it reminded him that their marriage was a business arrangement. Cursing himself for having no choice but to use it, he crammed it into his billfold.

It was his fault her gesture had been so coldly impersonal, he told himself as he got dressed. After all, he was the one who had balked when she’d suggested a joint checking account. He couldn’t stand the idea of living off her inheritance when he had nothing of his own to put into the pot. As soon as his business was on its feet, he would pay her back, and he’d never live on her father’s money again.

Quickly he dressed, then sat down on the edge of the bed, not ready to face her with the mixed feelings whirling through his heart. Should he thank her or pretend the check hadn’t been written?

He looked down at the bed beneath him and ran his hand along the bedspread. She had lain here so still last night, almost as if she held her breath, waiting for him to fall asleep. Some part of him had longed to touch her … to reassure her … but he hadn’t dared. It had been one of the loneliest nights of his life. And this was probably the loneliest morning.

He rubbed his hands roughly over his face then dropped them as his eyes fell on Patrice’s picture. He wondered how Laney had felt waking to it this morning. Did it make her feel out of place, in the way? He picked it up and once again tried to put it in the table drawer. But something about that act seemed like a betrayal. He couldn’t do it.

He set the picture back, exactly where it had been before, and tried to remember Patrice as she had been at her best, laughing with him and exchanging wisecracks. The house had always been so full of laughter. But the memory was fading, just as Amy had said. Now, as he looked at Patrice’s picture, it was Laney’s scent he smelled. As he remembered how Patrice had cared for him, it was Laney’s work in the kitchen he heard. As he thought of how he’d loved Patrice, it was Laney he longed to touch.

It was wrong, he told himself. All wrong.

He heard the sound of a small knock on the door, and he said, “Come in.”

The door opened, and Amy peered in. “Hi, Daddy.” Her cheeks were sleepy-red, her eyes were just-opened, and she stood in her baby-doll gown with her teddy crushed against her. “Something smells good.”

“Laney’s cooking breakfast,” he said.

She stood there for a moment, looking at him with as much confusion about this change in their family as he felt. “Wanna come?” she asked.

Slapping on his smile, he said, “I sure do. I’m starved.”

Taking hands, they both went into the kitchen with quiet apprehension.

Laney had the table set and was putting a platter of French toast at the center of the table. “Good morning,” she said, her face lighting up at the sight of her daughter. “You hungry?”

Amy nodded and pulled out a chair.

“Let me just get the syrup, and we’ll be all set,” Laney said.

“I’ll help,” Wes said, and followed her.

Laney gave him a puzzled look. She reached for the syrup, then awkwardly handed it to him.

It was sticky, but he didn’t notice. He looked down at it and seemed to study it as he tried to find the words. “Uh … I saw the check. It was too much.”

“You’ll need extra until you get on your feet. Really, I want you to have it.”

He looked up at her, at the bright, clear, dark eyes that were so stunning at this hour of morning. “Look, I’m going to pay you back. As soon as I get that contract for the amusement park … if I get it … I’ll pay back every penny. With interest.”

“I don’t need it back. It was a gift. Amy’s inheritance. It meant the world to me to be able to do it. I’ve never had anything I could give before.”

He stiffened. “I’m still paying it back.”

She wilted and took the syrup from him, then handed him a wet towel for his hands. “Wes, how can I make you understand? I’ve never been able to do anything for her. Or for you, and all these years, you’ve taken care of my child. Besides, that was the deal. I got what I wanted, and you got what you needed.”

“What I
need
is to provide for my family, Laney. It’s what I do. I also always try to pay my debts, if it’s at all in my power.”

“But we’re married, Wes. If we get a joint account, it’ll all be yours, anyway. What difference will it make?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “I told you, we’re not getting a joint account. I’m not ready for that.”

He left the kitchen, and she stood there for a moment, trying hard not to cry. She had to go in there and face Amy like the happy little bride. If it killed her, she would do it. Wes hadn’t meant to hurt her, she told herself. But he had no idea how much it had meant to her to give what she had to the man who had raised her child. He couldn’t possibly understand that the gift had been from her heart—not something she would hold over his head.

Only time could prove that to him, she thought. But she had time. Time to change his mind about the money … and time to change his feelings about her.

N
othing changed in their relationship over the days that followed. Amy remained polite but quiet. Laney remained warm but distant. And Wes didn’t get much sleep.

Sunday morning, they got up with every intention of going to church together, despite Laney’s fears that she wouldn’t be well received by the congregation who knew she was the woman who had sued for joint custody of Amy. She knew they’d all be suspicious of the quick wedding.

But she determined to show them just what a nice family they all made. She had bought Amy a new dress for the occasion, and Amy, grouchier than usual, had fidgeted while Laney tried to French braid her hair. When Laney was halfway finished, Amy began to whine. “I don’t like it,” she said. “It hurts. It’s pulled too tight.”

“I can loosen it,” Laney said. “Here, let me—”

But Amy began to pull it loose herself, destroying the look. “I don’t want to wear it like this. I want to wear it down.”

Looking a little disgruntled, Laney pulled out the braid and brushed Amy’s hair. “That better?” she asked.

“No,” Amy pouted. “I want it pulled back. With a bow.”

Laney gathered it at her neck to make a ponytail, but Amy jerked away. “Not like that!”

When Amy had begun to cry, Wes intervened. “Come on, short stuff. You’re giving the lady a hard time.”

“She doesn’t know how to fix my hair, Daddy!” Amy whined. “You do it.”

Dejected and blinking back her tears, Laney handed him the bow she had bought to go with the dress. “It’s OK, Wes,” she said. “I need to go get ready anyway.”

He nodded and watched her leave, wishing he knew what to say to take that look of absolute rejection off of her face. “You should really go easier on her, kiddo,” he told his daughter. “She was just trying to make you look pretty.”

“I don’t want her to make me look pretty,” she grumbled. “I hate that dress she bought me.”

“Well, you’re going to wear it.” He lowered his voice and made Amy look at him. “Honey, Laney’s a little nervous this morning. She’s not used to going to church. We have to make her understand how much Jesus loves her and wants her there. Now, if we get her all upset and more nervous before we go, she may not ever have the chance to get to know Jesus. So will you try not to be a pain?”

Amy thought that over for a moment, then sighed. “But Daddy, that dress.”

“It’s beautiful, Amy, and it makes you look like a princess.”

“It’s stupid. I hate all those ruffles. My friends will make fun of me.”

“No, they won’t. They’ll all beg their moms for dresses just like it.”

He finished her hair and turned her around. The bow was a little crooked, as usual, and he tried to adjust it. “Laney could do a much better job at this.” He smiled at her, tipping his head. “Do you realize you look just like her?”

Amy didn’t quite know how to take that. So she shrugged.

“That’s a compliment,” he whispered. “Laney’s beautiful. And so are you.”

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Modeling scouts will probably interrupt the service to take your picture. Movie directors will run into the sanctuary from the street, after hearing about the seven-year-old beauty who sits inside. And I’ll bet Prince Wills will make a special trip from England to come and check you out himself.”

Amy giggled. “Oh, Daddy.”

“Really,” he said. “Now go put the dress on. And step into it, so you don’t mess up your hair.”

She started back to her bedroom then thoughtfully turned around. “Daddy? Maybe I will let Laney do my hair again.”

“Good move, sweetheart. If you’re going for the total look, you definitely need Laney.”

W
es hadn’t known what to expect when they walked into the church as a family, but he hadn’t exactly expected the cold stares aimed at his new wife. Some of his friends, the ones who had not gotten the news off of the grapevine, didn’t know about the wedding and looked hurt that he had not told them and startled that the woman he’d married was the barracuda who had taken him to court for his daughter.

He had tried to avoid introducing her to Eugenia Stairs, the church’s most active busybody, but she had made a beeline for them the minute she spotted them.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” the woman spouted off to him. “You’re
not
married, are you?”

Wes touched the small of Laney’s back and smiled. “Eugenia, this is my wife, Laney. Laney, I’d like you to meet—”

“Wes,” the woman cut in, ignoring Laney completely. “I wish you’d called me before you did this. Maybe I could have talked you out of it—

Wes glanced at Laney. She was taking it all gracefully, though her expression looked as fragile as a porcelain doll’s. “Eugenia, why on earth would you want to talk me out of it?”

“Because it’s so obvious, Wes.”

Wes set his arm around Laney and guided her around Eugenia. “Excuse me, Eugenia, but we’re going to find a seat now.”

“Well, is she going to join the church?”

Wes turned back. “She isn’t deaf, Eugenia. She hears very well. You don’t have to talk as if she isn’t here. And as for her joining the church—” He glanced at Laney and saw her staring at the floor. Suddenly he felt very protective of her. She was breakable, and he didn’t want to see these people hurt her anymore. “The fact is, Eugenia, that she’d have to be crazy to join a congregation that has been so incredibly rude to her. In fact, if it continues, we’ll probably all find a new church.”

“Oh, Wes! We certainly didn’t mean to be rude. If I’ve offended you, I apologize!”

“Don’t tell me,” Wes bit out. “My wife is the one you were rude to.”

For the first time, Eugenia looked directly at Laney and lifted her chin high. “I’m terribly sorry,” she said in a clipped voice. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you. Everyone is welcome in our church.”

Laney swallowed and tried to smile. “Thank you.”