On Love's Own Terms (13 page)

She stiffened with hurt. “You assumed I was sleeping around and retaliated by doing the same?”

“I assumed you were probably making love with someone, yes. And maybe, subconsciously, I
was
retaliating. Dumb but true,” he rasped. “Whenever I pictured you with another man—”

“At least you didn’t have a tangible image to contend with,” she countered softly. “How do you think I felt after seeing you with that redhead at the Hickory?” She struggled out of his embrace. “How do you think I feel right this minute, knowing your latest ex-lover is working thirty stories above us?”

“Angry, and justifiably so.” He tipped his head to one side, his gaze glittering hopefully. “Forgiving?”

She glanced away, nibbling on her lower lip. Forgiving? Like her, wasn’t he only human? Hadn’t he, too, done what he thought necessary in order to survive? They’d gone overboard in opposite directions after their divorce. Trying to forget and failing miserably. She looked at him and whispered, “Yes.”

They reached out, linking hands, and he led her to his car.

“A Corvette!” She laughed and settled into the low-slung seat on the passenger side. “Talk about going from the ridiculous to the sublime.”

“It’s got some
wow power,”
he admitted with a grin, fastening his safety belt and gesturing for her to follow his example. “I rarely drive it, but I promised Dave and Darlene that they could borrow it after the reception. They’re spending Saturday night in the bridal suite at the Peachtree here in Atlanta, then catching a plane Sunday morning for Nassau.”

Bonnie froze. She was scheduled to leave Sunday, too. Bending her head, she fumbled with her seatbelt.

Luke laid his hands over hers, stilling her clumsy fingers. “We’re going to work something out before you go—I swear it.”

“How?” She shook her head disbelievingly. “I don’t have a free day through June, and July is shaping up almost the same way.”

“Damn.” He scowled. “If I’m awarded the contract on the shopping center bid that I submitted yesterday—and it’s practically a cinch that I will be—we’d break ground in August.”

“See?” she insisted dejectedly.

He hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “I’ll withdraw the bid, you’ll refuse any parties, and August is ours to spend how and where we choose.” He shrugged when she sighed. “Look, if we want to be together, we have to make some professional concessions. Design our own future, so to speak.”

She frowned. “But a jet-set relationship—”

“Marriage,” he corrected firmly. “I won’t settle for anything less.”

“Don’t you think you’re rushing things?” she asked weakly, repeating her earlier argument.

“No,” he refuted. “I’m just obviously more willing to rack my brain for a solution and make the necessary sacrifices—”

“That’s not true,” she protested. The old doubts darted about inside her and she felt helpless to combat the attack. “If I honestly believed—”

“You don’t trust me,” he accused flatly.

Her gaze clung to him, silently pleading for empathy. So many adjustments and so little time!

“I guess I can’t really blame you.” Luke’s mouth slanted in a self-mocking smile as he inserted the key into the ignition. “Hell, everybody knows that a skunk can’t change its stripes. Right?”

Bonnie started to deny that and explain her hesitation more fully, but the roaring motor drowned out her words. Expecting a wild ride to the grocery store she braced herself against the plush leather seat, yet he handled the sports car as carefully as a Sunday driver.

Inside the supermarket he pushed the cart while she squeezed, sniffed and snapped before selecting the finest produce and fruit. His attitude proved a pleasant surprise since shopping had been his least favorite chore during their marriage. He even knew the butcher by name, which helped considerably when she rejected the briskets already displayed and requested special cuts.

Although she considered the preparation of food an art and could easily spend as many hours in the grocery aisles as collectors did in galleries, she stuck strictly to her list so as not to strain his endurance.

At the cash register, the cute blond clerk checked Luke out more thoroughly than she did the contents of the cart. Bonnie corrected the errors she caught, bit back the reprimand she was longing to make and scrawled her name on the traveler’s checks she took from her purse. That he neither encouraged the clerk’s flirtations nor responded to them did nothing to tame the green-eyed monster stirring inside her.

Bonnie realized that her unfounded reaction smacked of paranoia. Luke didn’t exist exclusively to please her. He was a person entitled to his independence, not a possession. In her heart, though, she was still terrified. A healthy relationship required mutual trust. And since time hadn’t remedied her fears, she had to wonder whether her condition was incurable where Luke was concerned. If so, any commitment she made now would be less than sound in a future crisis.

She remained withdrawn during their drive to Rebel’s Ridge, and he made no attempt to distract her with small talk. Their silence was more reflective than sultry, because the issue between them was too serious to trivialize and too important to ignore.

“Hey, Luke!” Dave bustled out of the house when they’d parked in the driveway. “I promised Darlene that I’d mow the meadow today, but the tractor won’t start.” He grabbed two sacks of groceries out of the car and carried them up the porch steps. “Can you give me a hand when you’re free?”

“Sure thing.” Luke unloaded two more brown bags.

Bonnie experienced a brief twinge of worry about how Darlene would view her overnight absence, then squelched it and followed the men inside. She wasn’t ashamed of loving Luke and refused to hang her head or apologize.

“Oh, good, you bought brisket!” Darlene had already emptied two sacks and was busy unpacking a third when Bonnie entered the kitchen. “Are you going to smother it with onions and make gravy?”

“The bride had onion breath,” Luke teased. “I can already hear the gossip sizzling along the grapevine.”

“The groom has a choice—eat them with me or weep alone.” Darlene tossed Dave a Bermuda onion, then cheered boisterously when he pretended to take a big bite out of it.

The horseplay continued until Bonnie issued her ultimatum. “I’m going to run upstairs and shower. If the rest of you dear folks aren’t productively occupied when I’m through, I’ll start assigning chores.”

Silence reigned supreme when she returned to the kitchen dressed for work. She’d shampooed her hair and wound it into a gleaming topknot so it wouldn’t keep falling across her face. Her legs and arms were bare because of the shorts and sleeveless shirt she wore. Thanks to the lack of air conditioning and the full blast of the oven, the afternoon promised to be a hot one.

Efficient by nature and a whiz with the whisk, Bonnie had her chocolate cake stirred and baking in record time. When the layers were cooled, she would cover them with foil and let them season a day before frosting them with fudge and decorating the sinfully sweet concoction with spun-sugar flowers. Whistling an off-key rendition of the wedding march, she whipped up a tangy beer marinade for the briskets and a rich basil dressing for the pesto salad she planned to serve during the buffet-style reception.

Bonnie found it nothing short of amazing that she felt so energetic after her virtually sleepless night. Looking out the window, she saw Dave riding the mower around the meadow and Darlene pinning freshly washed sheets to the clothesline. She smiled, picturing Luke snoozing in the shade of a tree somewhere. Maybe when she finished in here, she’d sneak out and curl up beside him for a while.

The idea quickened both her pulse and the pace of her clean-up. She loved him. She always had and always would. But now that she’d had an opportunity to mull their situation over, she needed to share her thoughts with him.

Given their volatile temperaments, could they really live together again—even on a part-time basis? And what kind of marriage would they have, anyway? Flying back and forth across the country. Discussing personal problems and professional triumphs over the telephone. And suppose they decided eventually to have children? After her difficult experience with pregnancy, she definitely didn’t want to be alone—

“It smells heavenly in here!” Darlene came through the back door, an empty clothes basket in hand. “If you need a taste tester, I’m available.”

Bonnie slapped her sister’s fingers when they strayed too close to the cooling cake layers. “If you’re looking for something to do, dry those mixing bowls and pans in the drainer and put them away.

“Sorry, I’m busy dismantling a waist-high laundry sculpture.” Darlene opened the basement door. “By the way, do you remember Mrs. Painter, the widow down the road?”

“Of course.” Even after all these years, Bonnie still had a soft spot for the grandmotherly woman, who’d always had a stick of gum and a sympathetic ear to spare for the children in town. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, she called this morning and asked if she could drop by tomorrow around noon.”

“I hope you told her yes.”

Darlene nodded and started downstairs.

“What’s Luke up to?” Bonnie asked in a casual tone.

“He went fishing,” Darlene replied over her shoulder.

“Fishing!” Bonnie almost dropped the bowl she was drying.

Darlene stopped and turned around. “After you threatened all of us, he helped Dave start the mower, said ‘What could be more productive than catching our dinner’ and left.” She grinned. “He also reminded us that there’s a package of hot dogs in the freezer. Just in case.”

Fishing! Bonnie couldn’t argue with his logic because she hadn’t planned a thing for dinner, but the rest of the afternoon stretched out long and lonely ahead of her. It didn’t take two people to operate the washing machine, and Darlene had already swept the carpet and dusted what little furniture remained in the house. Dave was done with the meadow and noisily mowing the yard.

Maybe she’d give Sueanne a call. She’d never seen her house or met her children. And she really did need to talk with someone.

Sueanne answered on the eleventh ring, her voice breathless and her words rushed. “Oh, I’d love to visit with you, but I’ve got a doctor’s appointment and I’m running late.” She laughed wryly. “Jon, my oldest, decided to fingerpaint with raw eggs on the kitchen floor. And Vicki added coffee grounds for color.”

The phone on Sueanne’s end clattered loudly then as she dropped it. Bonnie heard two swats, immediately followed by a chorus of wails. The miniature monsters were getting their just desserts from the sound of it. A few seconds later, the sound of crooning hushed the anguished cries of childhood.

“Sorry about that,” Sueanne said contritely into the receiver. “I spanked them for picking the three tulips that the dog hadn’t trampled. Then they told me they’d brought me flowers because I’m the ‘bestest’ mommy in the whole world.” She sighed, sounding positively exhausted. “I can’t win for losing today. Thank heavens Tom is bringing pizza home for dinner. With my luck, anything I cooked would probably turn to cinders before it reached the table.”

“I’ll let you go, then.” Whether in sympathy for her friend or from lack of sleep, Bonnie suddenly felt weary to the bone. “Will I see you at the wedding on Saturday?”

“If I can get organized, you’ll see me tonight at the softball game.” A thump and a yelp in the background prompted a hasty good-bye from Sueanne.

Bonnie hung up and yawned. For such a small town, people sure stayed busy. She sealed the cake layers with foil and set them on a pantry shelf, done for the day. In the silence, she could almost hear the echo of her own heartbeat. She watched from the kitchen window as Darlene and Dave strolled hand-in-hand across the newly mowed meadow, walking toward the waterfall. The clothes hanging on the line swayed in a soft breeze, drying naturally.

Her sister had a fiancé; her friend had a husband and children; nearly all of her New York acquaintances had similar relationships. She sighed, feeling terribly alone. Everybody had somebody, it seemed.

Too tired to think, she turned and started upstairs. A nap might improve her gloomy outlook. Unaccustomed to sleeping during the day, she found it difficult at first to relax. Gradually, though, she drifted off.
Her dreams were filled with pint-sized versions of Luke, a planeload of them, all flying away from her. Tears trickled from beneath her closed lids, falling on her pillow.

* * * *

The sun’s last rays slanted warmly through the window when Bonnie left her bedroom, and the sweet smell of cornbread beckoned from the kitchen.

“Damn! You spoiled our surprise.” Despite her grumbling, Darlene smiled as she turned a nicely browned loaf of pone out of the pan and onto a wire rack. “We wanted to have the table set and the food hot before we woke you.”

“Look at that nice mess of catfish that Luke caught.” Dave finished folding the paper napkins and started sliding them under the silverware arranged beside the dinner plates. “I just hope he left some for the rest of us who enjoy wetting a line.”

“By the time you’re through honeymooning, little brother,” Luke scoffed, “those fingerlings I threw back will be keeper size.” His hair waved damply from a shower, and his cheeks were ruddy. He winked broadly when Bonnie joined him at the counter. “Do you want to bet those babies will be full-fledged granddaddies by then?”

“What kind of odds are you giving?” she teased, her voice husky from sleep.

“For you?” He looked into her eyes, and everything else vanished from her sight. “Only the best.”

Bonnie tore her gaze away and watched him take the filets from the cornmeal batter and drop them, crackling, into the hot electric skillet. She couldn’t concentrate standing this close to him, so she moved a step away. “How can I help?”

“By staying out of our way,” Darlene answered firmly. She poured sun tea from a pitcher into a glass full of ice, stirred some freshly cut mint into it, then ordered sternly, “Sit down and drink this.”

“But I feel like a three-toed sloth just sitting here,” Bonnie protested. “At least let me put the pans to soak or—”