To Wear His Ring (47 page)

The words were out. There for everyone to hear, and to remember. Well, it was the truth. Nettie lifted her chin. She’d said what she needed to, and she was glad. Glad and, frankly, proud of herself.

She waited for Georgiana’s response. The woman regarded her steadily and with some surprise. Finally she made her copious scribbles.

Nettie glanced at Chase, but met only the top of his head as he watched Georgiana write.

Stabbing a period on the end of a sentence, Georgiana stuffed the yellow legal pad into her oversized handbag and stood. “Thank you. You’ve both given me a great deal to think about.” Chase stood as well. “I’m not supposed to say anything one way or the other regarding a custody case, Mr. Reynolds. However, I’m going to break that rule, because,” she shrugged, “because I feel like it. I believe that you are sincere in your intent to be a good father. Your son’s grandparents, the Foster-Smiths, are equally sincere in their concern and in their desire to insure the well-being of their grandson. This case will go to court if there’s a T left uncrossed.”

“And you’ve found a T?” Chase asked.

Georgiana frowned, musing. “I’m not sure.” She included
Nettie, too, in her gaze. “Your willingness to marry for Colin’s sake—and I do think that’s what’s going on here—is admirable. But how much it secures his future happiness, I don’t know. And whether it’ll persuade the Foster-Smiths to drop the case, I rather doubt. There’s still the issue of your moving about so much, who will be at home with this child, where will his home be, etcetera. You have your work cut out for you.” She smiled the brusque no-nonsense smile that seemed typical of her.

Chase shook her hand. “I appreciate your candor.”

“And wish you could tell me to take a flying leap!” Georgiana’s laugh boomed heartily. “Unfortunately, you’ll probably be seeing me again.” She extended her hand to Nettie for a firm shake and then walked out to her car with Chase.

When he returned, Georgiana’s car was already kicking dust down the dirt path. Chase headed for the kitchen. “You want wine?”

“No.” Nettie followed him. From the refrigerator, he pulled a bottle of the cabernet that they’d opened at dinner and poured what was left of it into a goblet. “Is Colin still watering?”

“He’s winding the hose.” Chase took a swallow of wine. “I told him he could play outside until it’s dark.”

He wasn’t looking at her. Like his responses, his movements were spare.

“You’re really worried now, aren’t you?”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“I think Georgiana likes you. Respects you.” Nettie approached the center island, where he stood. “I know it didn’t go as well as we’d hoped, but as she said, you’ll be seeing her again.”

“You think that will help?”

“Don’t you?”

“Who knows?” He took another long swallow of wine and set the glass on the counter. A self-mocking curve shaped his lips. “I tend to think I’m pretty clever. I usually get what I want. But this time…” He shook his head. From his contemplation of the Italian tiles, he looked up. His expression was sober, his gaze as focused as a laser. “Why, Nettie?”

She shook her head, unsure of what he was asking.

“When Georgiana wondered if you wanted children of your
own—it occurs to me that was a yes or no question. But it wasn’t that simple for you.”

“I explained when I came back into the room—”

Chase shook his head, his narrowed eyes and uncompromising countenance as effective an interruption as if he had spoken. “Not good enough. You knew what was at stake the first time. Even if you’d said no—cleanly—it might have seemed like a normal response.” He crossed halfway toward her. “It was your hesitation, your confusion that made her doubt us.”

“I realize that.” Frustrated, Nettie spread her hands. “I made a mistake. I also fixed it.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean? Chase, I know you’re worried and upset, and, yes, you have a right to be. I didn’t play my part the way I should have. But I did try to correct it, and if you ask me, I did a pretty good job.”

“Played your part,” he muttered, jaw hardening. He nodded. “Yes, a ‘good
job
’ is exactly how I’d put it.”

Nettie put her clenched hands on her hips. “Why are you dissecting my words? Chase, you’re nitpicking, and it’s not fair. I did my best. She caught me off guard.”

“We’re all caught off guard.” Continuing around the center island, he closed the gap between them. “It occurs to me that we’ve talked plenty about my inability to commit.” His voice was soft, deceptively so. “But what about yours? Why do words like
temporary
and
brief
keep coming up, Nettie?”

Calm demeanor or no, Nettie sensed the anger and frustration within him. Surprisingly, it chased away her guilt, leaving
her
frustrated and angry in turn. There was an implied judgment in this cross-examination, and she didn’t like it. He had no idea how much courage it had taken to help him with this custody case to begin with.

“We never discussed permanent,” she reminded him. “Right from the start we said there would be an end to this.”

“
You
said—”

“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “If you recall, you warned me that you weren’t a stick-around kind of guy.”

“And you said that was all right with you.”

“It is.”

“Why?” Holding her shoulders, seemingly unaware that he
was even doing so, Chase searched her face. “Why is it all right for a man to walk in and out of your life? It’s obvious that family means everything to you. I’ve read your books. I’ve watched you with Colin. You love kids. You were born to have a family of your own. Colin loves—”

“Stop. Will you please stop!” She tossed up her hands and shook her head. “No, look, you’ve been “committed” all of what, two weeks? All of a sudden you think that makes you the world authority on family dynamics? Or on what other people need?” Nettie watched her verbal attack fall on Chase like a series of blows, but she felt desperate, desperate to stop him before he finished his sentence, and desperate to end this conversation before he somehow convinced her he was right. It wasn’t only her heart at stake, it was her sanity. “I will not let you make me feel guilty for turning out to be exactly who I said I was. I told you I don’t want a long-term relationship. I told you I can’t give it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t know me!”

“Then tell me.” Chase’s grasp tightened on her shoulders. “Dammit! Tell me why I can make you laugh, and I can make you smile. And I can make your eyes flash when we make love, but I can’t make you want forever.”

A volcano was ready to erupt in Nettie’s chest. “Is that what’s bothering you? You can’t understand how a woman can say no now that you’ve decided to play family man?” She shook her head. “Well, maybe the idea of family is all novel and appealing to you, but I have been there, and I’ve done that, and I don’t ever, ever,
ever
want to do it again!”

Stunned momentarily, Chase shook his head as if to clear it. “What do you mean, you—”

“No!” Nettie twisted away from him. Eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall, she held his gaze. “You were fun…we were fun together. But that’s all. Leave it at that.” Her voice fell to a whisper as harsh as a desert wind. “I wanted to help you with Colin. Don’t try to turn this into anything else. Please. I can’t…I don’t love you.”

The moment, the very instant the words fell from her lips, Nettie realized the lie she had just told. Like a bolt of lightning, truth shot through her chest—hot and sharp and unmistakable:
She loved Chase Reynolds, she loved his son. Once more life was offering her the chance to need two people fully and completely, with so much of her heart that to lose them would be to lose the part of her that pumped blood, the part that enabled her to breathe.

She hoped God would forgive her for returning the gift, but it didn’t fit. Not anymore. There simply wasn’t enough of her heart left to break off another piece.

Chase watched her for a long, silent moment. He dug in his pocket, pulled out a small silver box and set it on the counter beside them. “I don’t love you, either.” He opened the box. Nestled inside the silver cardboard was another box, this one velvet black. “I didn’t buy this for you.” Without ever taking his eyes off her, he flipped up the lid. A round diamond set in platinum almost as white as the stone and flanked by two trillioncut sapphires sparkled at Nettie as if it were trying to speak. “I haven’t felt like a kid at Christmas every time I imagined you opening this box, and I’m not
angry as hell
right now that something—or someone—in your past means more to you than I ever could.” A smile so grim and utterly devoid of humor that it was chilling twisted Chase’s lips. “There. We’re even now. We’ve both lied.”

Leaving the ring where it was, tucked in a box rather than on the finger for which it had originally been intended, Chase walked from the room, the air of finality as clear as the diamond he had purchased for his intended.

T
wo days later, Chase was in New York, involved in what promised to be all-day meetings. Both he and the director of his TV station hoped the caucuses would result in a new career direction, one that would keep him at the station and in the states, or more accurately, in one state—New York. Chase hoped, also, to locate a more kid-friendly apartment. Lilah had agreed to watch Colin while he was away.

Aware of the turbulent and apparently permanent parting between her sister and Chase, Lilah had mercifully chosen to stay at the cottage rather than bring the little boy to the house, but on the afternoon of the second day, she got a call from her agent, alerting her to a plum movie audition back in Los Angeles.

“I booked a plane ticket for the day after next,” she told Nettie in a rapid spate of enthusiasm. “I need a manicure and a pedicure before I leave, because there won’t be time after I get home. And where am I going to find a decent hairdresser around here who can take me on short notice? I have got to do something about this.” She pointed to the top of her head, the bright light in Nettie’s second-floor studio illuminating traitorous ash-brown roots that had to be eliminated.

Drying a paintbrush on a rag, Nettie tried to dredge up some empathy for her sister’s plight. “Are you going to leave before Chase gets back?”

“Not if he flies in tomorrow night, like he said he would. But if he’s delayed…” She shrugged. “Look, I know you’re uncomfortable with this, but Colin really enjoys himself over here, and I can’t miss this audition, Nettie. I’ve had a little dry spell, lately. I need the work.”

“I know. I don’t mind watching him.” But Chase had asked Lilah, not her. He was still furious with her. And he had good reason.

It was dead-on accurate to say that fear was the devil that made her want to end their relationship. But Nettie figured that was her business and her right. What depressed her was that she’d promised to help him with his custody case, and she’d blown it. Fear again. It had made her drop the ball after she’d given her word to help.

“Look,” Lilah said, misinterpreting the troubled look on her sister’s face. “Let’s just deal with today…and my dark roots. I’ll be home in a few hours, and I’m sure Chase’ll be back before I have to fly out of here, so you won’t even have to see him if that’s what you want. Although I still—”

“It’s what he wants, too, Lilah.” Chase had made it clear that even the engagement of convenience was over. Georgiana had not been overly impressed by it, anyway.

“—think that you’re nuts.” Lilah spoke over her sister’s comment and then narrowed her eyes. “Fine, so you’re both nuts. A perfect match.” Scooping her oversized purse up off the floor where she’d dropped it, she flung the bag over her shoulder. “Did Nadine Ritchie ever open a beauty salon in Anamoose, like she kept saying she would?”

“Yes. It’s on Main Street. You can’t miss it.”

“Good. I hope she’s not still p.o.’d about my going to the junior prom with Denny Kelter.”

“She is.”

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Still a twit, but she knows hair. As long as she doesn’t deliberately dye me purple I should be okay.” She blew Nettie a quick kiss. “I’ll see you in a while. I brought Colin’s bike over. He wanted to ride it. I told him he could go as far as the Seaforths’ place and back.” Heading down
the upstairs hallway, she spoke while walking backwards. “I think he’s hoping you’ll read him one of your stories later.” She smiled. “He thinks they’re about him, you know.” Fluttering her fingers, she headed down the stairs.

Lilah disappeared and Nettie sighed.
Nice parting shot, sis.

Dropping the brush into a can of other clean brushes, she looked at the lone picture left on her bookshelf. Tucker grinned back at her. Wiping her hands and tossing the rag onto her desk, she moved to stand before the photo, running a fingertip along the pewter frame.

“Happy birthday, my big little boy.” Softly she tapped the train engineer’s hat they’d given Tuck for his birthday. Even at three he’d been thrilled with the striped cap that looked just like the one in his favorite storybook. Along with the hat, Nettie had found a beautiful miniature train, the first of what she had expected to be a growing collection for her locomotive-loving son. Tucker had played with the toy every day, rarely allowing it out of his sight and showing it to anyone who had the patience to affect an interest. He’d had it with him in the car that awful iceladen day.

Nettie replaced the photo. Next to it on the shelf was the plaster mask of Tucker.

As carefully as if she were handling Limoges, Nettie picked up the heavy mask. Brian had crafted it to look like Tucker was smiling. “Number one in a series,” he’d promised as she’d withdrawn the mask from a gift box he’d wrapped for her birthday. She’d loved it then; she loved it now. Gently, she turned the mask over. Tucker Ecklund, Brian had written into the plaster. Thirty Months.

For just a moment, she held the mask close to her heart. It was her most precious keepsake, the only
thing
she could say she truly treasured, a memento of a life measured in months. On the emptiest of afternoons, she could glance at the mask and the expression Brian had captured so well and be instantly transported to the giggle-laced days and cuddle-filled nights of Tuck’s babyhood. Just that quickly Nettie could recall all the dear pedestrian dreams she had held for her family. She had never wanted the moon, only a growing collection of sweetly average tomorrows.

Setting the mask back on its stand, Nettie wished briefly that
she could resume painting. Working on Tucker’s birthday had become a habit, a way to keep from feeling or thinking too much. But Colin was outside, riding his bike, and Lilah was puttering down the driveway in their ancient car, which meant it was time for Nettie to take over.

The first couple of hours’ baby-sitting went pretty well, Nettie thought. Colin rode his bike into town while she followed on foot. The sky had gone unseasonably overcast, but the weather was still hot, so they stopped for a cool drink and a snack at the bakery. On the way home, they watched Ina Petty’s schnauzer piddle on Lois Johnson’s pink plastic flamingo and fed bits of Colin’s doughnut to two flickertail squirrels that grabbed the food and chased each other up an American elm.

When they returned to the house, Colin asked if they could go to Nettie’s studio to pick out a book to read.

“I like your books,” he said as he stomped up the stairs ahead of her.

“Thanks, buddy.” She laughed at the huge, roundhouse-style steps he took, clearly playing out some mini-adventure in his mind.

“You choose,” she said, leading him to the bookshelf while she went to collect the paint-splotched rags she had used that morning. “My last book was set on a deserted island. Kind of like ‘Gilligan’s Island.’ My sisters and I watched that show all the time when we were kids. We used to make up skits and take turns playing all the characters. Have you ever seen that show? I think they still play it on classic TV.”

Nettie turned to see Colin standing on tiptoe, reaching for the life mask of Tucker, a look of pure fascination on his face.

“Oh, Colin, don’t!” In a knee-jerk reaction, she rushed to him. “Don’t play with that, honey!” She stayed his hand. “It’s not a toy.”

Colin stepped back in confusion. “What is it?”

“It’s called a life mask.”

Interest lit Colin’s eyes. “A mask? Like the kind you wear on Halloween?”

“No, not like that.” Mentally fatigued, Nettie wondered if suggesting a nap would land like a lead balloon. Sighing, she searched for an impersonal explanation. “This isn’t the kind of
mask you play with. It’s a keepsake. Something you put up just to look at. Like collecting baseball cards.”

“You can play with baseball cards.”

“Right. Well, there are some things you keep, but don’t play with.”

“Why?”

“Because some things would break too easily if you played with them.”

He looked at the mask. “Is it expensive?”

“No. But it’s very special to me.” Hoping he was ready for a change in topic, she pulled three books off the shelf, two of hers and one by an author from South Dakota, someone whose work was particularly imaginative. With any luck, Colin’s interest would be engaged, and she could take a little breather. Beneath fatigue, Nettie felt a mounting restlessness.

“Here,” she said, handing Colin the books. “Let’s go downstairs and read.”

He wriggled close to her on the couch, asking first that she read to him and then choosing to read aloud on his own. Constant motion made his thin body feel warm; the skin on his arms was child-soft, as it would be for a few more years. Focusing on the printed words as Colin read, Nettie couldn’t help but notice how good it felt to sit like this at the end of a long day.

Abruptly, in the middle of a page, Colin interrupted himself to announce, “My dad says we’re moving to New York soon.”

“R…really.” So Chase had decided definitely then? Colin’s legs fidgeted a little against Nettie’s. “You’ll like New York, I’m sure,” she said, forcing an enthusiasm she didn’t feel. “Have you ever been there?”

“No. They got the Statue…the Statue…” Colin frowned. “A statue of a really big lady.”

“The Statue of Liberty.” Nettie smiled. “You’ll like seeing that, I bet.”

Colin shrugged. “I like it here,” he said in voice that was small and hopeful. “How come we can’t stay here?”

Taking a deep breath, praying for words that would soothe a child who had said too many goodbyes in his life already, Nettie put an arm around his shoulders. “Your dad needs to live in the city, because that’s where his job is. He wants to take care of you really, really well, and to do that he has to work.”

“He could work here. He could be a sheriff, like Sara,” Colin obviously thought he’d hit on the perfect solution, “Or…somethin’…like Nick. Then we wouldn’t have to move! I like coming here. You smell good and Sara knows how to shoot guns and Lilah says she’s goin’ to be in a movie someday, and I can go see it for free. And I like helpin’ you paint books ‘n’ plant the flowers. If I go, who’ll water the flowers?”

Oh, Colin, Colin, she thought, don’t do this. Not now, not today. I don’t want to cry until after you’ve gone.

Taking the book from which he’d been reading, Nettie set it on her own lap and focused on the pictures, turning pages slowly, calming her breathing before she replied. “I’ll water them.” But she knew that from now on visiting the cottage would elicit a host of memories that could do little more than add to the longing in her soul.

“You can ride in cars that are underground in New York,” he said, brightening a bit before remembering, “Sara said she’d teach me to slingshoot.”

Tough as Sara was, or pretended to be, Nettie knew her sister had fallen for Colin hook, line and sinker. She even referred to him now as “Little Deputy.”

“Maybe there’ll be time before you go.”

Colin shrugged. Silently, he sat for a moment, looking at his knees.

Nettie’s eyes blurred. Images of a dozen future events in Colin’s life tried to crowd her mind. And she was there in every vision…she and Chase.

“I love being with you, too,” she said, even as she tried to press the yearning aside. Concentrate on the reality. Concentrate on the reality and try to minimize the pain. “But New York is such an exciting place. After you’ve been there awhile, you’ll know so many people and you’ll have so much to do, why, I bet you won’t have time to think about us much at all!” Cheerful words. Empty words. True for him, probably, over time, but a bald lie for her.

She would think about Colin every day and when she did, she would picture Chase. She would remember what the first stirrings of desire had felt like, how her body had awakened again under his gaze and his touch, and how, despite her best efforts, love had awakened again, too.

Nettie realized that in the off-guard moments when she remembered and pictured him and felt him, she would feel her loneliness afresh, but it would be a pain she could handle. The knowledge that Chase and Colin were alive and well somewhere would help her handle it. And someday…maybe soon…Chase would marry and have more babies and then Nettie would stop thinking about him altogether…well, mostly. There would be no more use of dreaming once he moved on. The only pain she’d have to deal with then would be the one she’d already grown used to: emptiness.

The top of Colin’s head invited her to press a soft kiss in his bountiful hair. She kept the touch light and doubted he’d even felt it.

“Looks like it’s getting kind of rainy out,” she murmured, searching for a diversion. “Want to make cookies with me?” Leaning in, she indulged herself by holding him close in a hug. “When Lilah comes back, we’ll have a snack ready for her. She’ll probably be hungry after gallivanting around all afternoon.”

“What’s gavel…gavlan…”

“Gallivanting. It means running around.”

Colin nodded. “I’m always hungry after gavlanting.”

“Let’s do it then,” Nettie said, imbuing her voice with enthusiasm. “What kind of cookies?”

He thought about it a moment. “Chocolate chip. ‘Cause she’s a girl and girls don’t get as hungry as boys, but even if you’re not hungry, you can eat chocolate chip cookies!”

Nettie laughed. “I believe you’re right.” Relinquishing her hold on him, she handed Colin the books they’d been reading. “Here. You take those back upstairs, and I’ll get all the ingredients out for the cookies.”

“Okay.” He scooted off the couch.

Outside, the gray sky had begun to sprinkle warm summer rain and echoing in the distance came a muted rumble of thunder. Listening to the storm, Nettie moved to the kitchen to concentrate on the blessedly mundane task of baking.

Butter and eggs from the fridge…Flour and baking soda and brown sugar from the cupboard…She’d stashed a bag of chocolate chips in here somewhere, so Sara couldn’t find and empty
them into the Cocoa Puffs box, but where…? Ah! Perfect. A whole bag…

Setting out a mixing bowl and cookie sheet, Nettie pulled a stepladder up to the counter so Colin could reach. It had surprised her somewhat over the past couple of weeks to discover how much Colin enjoyed helping her in the kitchen.