“Like I’d intentionally do such a thing.” Did he think she was an idiot?
“You’re too damn stubborn for your own good.”
Margaret opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. It wasn’t outrage she saw in Matt’s eyes, but love and concern. He’d been gone a week, seven days in which she’d had time to consider her options. Time to decide what was important. Time to consider her future and that of her child.
“Be angry if you want,” he said again, “but you can’t do everything by yourself. You need me.”
“The hell I do!” Her response was automatic, her voice sharp.
“Okay, you don’t need me,” he countered just as sharply. “I’m the one who needs you. Hear me out and if you want me to leave afterward, I will.”
“All right.”
He sat on a bale across from her. “I’ve been with quite a few women over the years. I’m not proud of this, and I don’t think it comes as any surprise.”
She’d known the kind of man he was when she married him, but she hadn’t understood exactly what that meant. She hadn’t realized that he couldn’t completely escape his history—as Sheryl had proven.
“You married me because I had something to offer that those other women didn’t—my land and the cattle,” she threw out angrily. “And because I believed in you, or so you’ve said.”
“Yes,” he said, equally angry. “But dammit, Margaret, there’s more. You got to me. You’re the finest cattlewoman I know. The finest rancher, period. No one’s better at managing a herd than you, and I respect that. You’re attractive and you’re smart and you have character. Okay, so you’re no beauty queen. I’m not interested in pretty, shallow girls—they’re a dime a dozen. But there’s only one you.”
The intensity of his words, his eyes, told her he spoke with sincerity.
“There’s something else you should know. Every other woman I’ve ever loved, I’ve loved from below the waist, if you know what I mean. But I love you with every part of me—my heart, my mind, my body.”
“Oh, Matt,” she whispered and slid off the bale of hay onto her knees. He knelt, too, facing her.
He reached for her and she all but fell into his arms. His mouth sought hers and they kissed with the desperation of two people who’d experienced despair…and renewal.
Their kisses were deep and long. The new calf mewled softly and his mother nuzzled her offspring while Margaret clung to her husband. When they broke apart, there were tears on her cheeks. Matt kissed them away, his tenderness profound. He’d said exactly what she’d been longing to hear.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be back,” she whispered brokenly.
“I wasn’t, either, but I couldn’t give up on us. I thought, I hoped, that if I went away for a few days, it’d give us both time to think.”
“I did think,” Margaret told him. “In fact, that’s all I’ve been doing. Now it’s time we talked.”
They checked on the cow and her calf, then washed up in the barn and headed toward the house.
Sadie met them at the back entrance, holding open the screen door. “I’ve got iced tea and chocolate chip cookies waiting for you on the front porch.”
The thoughtful gesture pleased Margaret. “I don’t know what you did to win her over, but Sadie’s certainly in your camp.”
“You honestly don’t?” He grinned. “All I ever did to win Sadie was show her how much I love you.”
With their arms around each other, they walked through the house and to the front porch, settling in the two wicker chairs that rested there. Her father often used to sit in this very spot and Margaret liked to think he was with them now.
“I do love you,” Matt told her again, “and our baby.”
“I know,” she said simply.
“If we reconcile, I feel I should warn you that it isn’t going to be easy with Sheryl.” He gave her a pained look. “My lawyer and I tried to talk sense into her, but it did no good.”
“She wants to raise your daughter herself?”
He nodded. “I suggested adoption, but she made it very clear that she intends to eke every penny out of me that she possibly can. The child is a means of holding on to me—and punishing me. For leaving her, and I think, for loving you.” Matt reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. “She assumed I’d divorce you and marry her. She figured the pregnancy would be the incentive—and she figured you for a source of cash.” He threw back his head, eyes closed. “Not once did I even consider such a plan. I swear it.”
She pressed her hand to his jaw. “I believe you.”
He opened his eyes, looked her full in the face. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but some day I’ll make all of this up to you. Maybe I can’t but I intend to try. God knows I don’t deserve a second chance, but I’m asking for one, anyway.”
They were in each other’s arms again. Margaret found it almost impossible to keep her hands off him. They hadn’t slept together in months, not since she’d learned of Sheryl’s pregnancy. He’d been the one to initiate her into the physical aspect of love, and in the process had created a need in her that only he could fill.
“We have a lot to overcome, but I love you, Matt. As long as you’re one hundred percent committed to me and our marriage, we have a chance.”
“One hundred percent.”
They kissed until Margaret heard Sadie clearing her throat behind them.
“Yes, Sadie?” she asked, her voice a mere rasp.
Matt continued to kiss the side of her neck, his hands on her shoulders, his lips moist and eager.
“Mr. Eilers has a phone call.”
“Mr. Eilers?” Matt repeated, sounding amused that Sadie would be so formal.
“Gage Sinclair has a question for you.”
“I’ll be right back,” Matt told his wife.
He left and Sadie folded her arms. “Well? Are you two back together?”
Margaret nodded.
“Good.” Her smile was brief but undeniably genuine. “This time don’t be so quick to give up.”
Margaret laughed. “I won’t.”
Seventeen
“Bob, what’s taking you so long?” Merrily called out from the back storeroom. Her husband had worked frantically doing spring cleaning and repairs. Merrily had joined him, working equally long hours.
“Coming,” he shouted brusquely from somewhere in the kitchen.
She sighed, waiting impatiently for him to move the fifty-pound flour sack so she could continue cleaning the shelves. The more involved she became in this physical labor, the better she understood why Bob had worked himself to a frazzle those first few weeks after receiving word about Axel. It did help; it distracted her and left her tired enough to sleep. And she found the resulting cleanliness and order deeply gratifying.
Now, a month since the judge’s decision, Merrily was feeling a kind of contentment. The tears didn’t come as readily or as often. Instead of focusing on her loss, which seemed overwhelming, she took an inventory of her blessings. At the top of her list was Robert Carr, her husband. He wasn’t the best-looking man she’d ever seen—in fact, it would be a stretch to call him handsome—but he was everything she wanted in a husband. No one had ever loved her the way he did.
“All right, all right,” he muttered, walking into the storeroom, a little breathless. “What do you want?”
“Hey, don’t snap at me, Buffalo Man.”
“I didn’t snap. I happen to be busy.”
“And I’m not?” She rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to move that flour myself?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Bob lifted the sack as though it weighed no more than a shoe box and plopped it down where she wanted. Merrily thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, then reached inside the soapy bucket for her cleaning rag.
“I’ve been thinking,” she began as he picked up a second bag, this time of sugar.
“About what?” he grunted.
/>
“Us,” she said calmly. She waited until she had his full attention, then drew herself up straight and looked him in the eye. “Tell me, is there any reason we couldn’t have a baby of our own?”
The fifty-pound bag of sugar dropped to the floor with a solid thump. It was a wonder the sack didn’t burst wide open.
“What did you just say?” Bob asked.
Merrily frowned. “You heard me! I asked your opinion on us having a baby.”
Bob stared at her, mouth gaping slightly.
“Is the idea that wild?” She wasn’t accustomed to seeing her husband speechless.
Bob sank onto the sugar sack, shaking his head as though completely overwhelmed. He glanced up at her. “I…I suppose we could try.”
Merrily wasn’t pleased with his response. She’d assumed he’d welcome the suggestion. Be excited. Eager. Happy. But he was none of that. Whirling around, she resumed her task, attempting to hide her disappointment.
“What’s wrong?”
Snorting softly, she ran the wet rag along the empty shelf. “You might have shown a little enthusiasm.”
Once more he seemed at a loss. He shrugged his shoulders.
“I thought…you’d like the idea,” she muttered, uncertain of her own feelings now. Bob had taken the news about Axel as hard as she had, perhaps harder. While the child was with them, Bob had loved and cared for him, had considered him their son. He seemed such a natural father, she’d expected him to jump instantly at the possibility of having a baby.
“I do like the idea,” Bob insisted.
“Well, I sure couldn’t tell.”
He continued to stare at her. “It just takes some getting used to, is all.”
She didn’t reply. What was there to say?
“You honestly want a baby?” he asked.
“Would I have suggested it if I didn’t?”
“I…guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
Merrily forced herself to look past her disappointment at his lukewarm response. Clearly she’d taken her husband by surprise, but she sensed that something else was troubling him.
“You’d better tell me what’s wrong,” she said.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, far too quickly. “If you’re finished with me here, I’ve got my own work to do.”
“Fine, be that way.” It was hard not to let her hurt feelings show, but she managed by turning her back to him and scrubbed the shelf with enough vigor to remove half the paint.
“Dammit, Merrily, if you want a baby, then we’ll have a baby.”
“I want you to want a baby, too,” she snapped back.
“I do!” he bellowed.
“Everything you’ve said and done tells me otherwise.”
He started pacing, his movements brisk and erratic. “I’m afraid.”
His words stunned her, and she turned to face him. “You’re afraid? Of what?”
Bob was sitting now, and he gestured weakly as he spoke. “What if something happened? You could miscarry. There’s a risk with any pregnancy…And babies are so vulnerable. What about illness? Or accidents? We lost Axel and dammit, Merrily, I don’t know if I could bear to lose another child. I can’t deal with that kind of pain again.”
“I couldn’t bear it, either,” she agreed, reaching for his hands and clasping them between her own. “No one will take our baby away from us. We were good parents to Axel—no one faulted us there. We’ll be good parents to our own child, too.” Her voice tearful, she whispered, “The risk is just part of life. You have to take all the precautions you can, and then…then you have to trust.”
“You know what I think?” Bob asked. He stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. “I think you’re the bravest woman I know. If you’re willing to do this, then, what the hell, so am I.”
“I’m throwing out my birth control pills today.” She smiled widely, the tears gone.
Holding her close, Bob threw back his head and laughed. “You do that, sweetheart, and leave the rest to me.”
Despite his bravado, Merrily knew that Bob still felt some uncertainty about committing himself to this project. If you could call a baby a “project.” So for the rest of the day, she formed a plan of action to lure her husband into bed. By the time she was finished with him, any lingering fears would be gone.
That night, after a lengthy shower, Bob walked into their bedroom, wrapped in his thick robe. He took one look at her and came to an abrupt standstill.
Merrily stood posed beside the bed, smiling saucily. Crooking one finger, she urged him toward her.
“What have you got on under that?” he asked, his voice husky.
“That’s for you to find out.”
“Merrily, I had a long, hard day. I’m tired….”
“I promise to make the night a whole lot more pleasant.” Untying the sash, she let the short silk robe fall open to expose her breasts and smooth, flat abdomen.
“Ah…”
“You still too tired, Buffalo Man?” she asked softly.
“I think I’ve just found a new surge of energy.”
Merrily beamed him an enticing smile and held out her hand, but he still hesitated. “Hey, Buffalo Man.” She pouted prettily. “How much of an invitation do you need, anyway?”
He chuckled as he swung her into his arms and carried her to their bed. With a gentleness that always amazed her in a man of his size, he placed her on top of the covers. “So, you want a baby, do you?” he whispered, smiling down at her.
She nodded.
“Tonight seems the perfect time to try.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
“And if it doesn’t work tonight, we’ll just have to continue doing this until we succeed.”
“Oh, I agree with that.” She slid her arms around his neck.
“I hope I don’t disappoint you…”
“Not a chance.”
“And I hope that getting you pregnant doesn’t turn out to be as easy as you think it’ll be.”
She giggled again and kissed his jaw. He captured her lips with his own and they were soon so caught up in their lovemaking that the only sounds they made were soft panting sighs.
Matt loved his wife. He’d come to recognize it in the first months of their marriage, but the intensity of his love had deepened after their reconciliation. His admiration for Margaret’s hard work and leadership grew. But just as much as he admired her ability to manage a ranch, he loved her compassion and her capacity for forgiveness.
“Did anyone ever tell you how good you look on a horse?” he called out as they rode toward the ranch after a long day moving the herd to its summer pasture. The size of the herd was more than they could handle alone and there were several ranch hands working with them for the season.
“If you’re trying to tell me I’m beautiful, just say so,” she called back.
“You’re beautiful,” he shouted. “You’re a fine rider, Margaret Eilers. You ride like you’re part of the horse.”
“Yeah, but which part?”
Matt threw back his head and roared with laughter. This was what he enjoyed most about their marriage, this banter and easy camaraderie. Margaret was more than his wife; she was his friend. The best friend he’d ever had. He’d never felt lonely until he’d nearly lost her. Never understood what brought a man home to a woman every night. Not just sex or domestic comfort. It was this—companionship. Understanding. A shared life. He couldn’t imagine living without her now. Pastor Dawson was right; he had to fight to save his marriage.
Dinner was waiting for them when they arrived at the house. Soon afterward Sadie left for the day, but not before she caught Matt’s eye and winked. It was the housekeeper’s way of letting him know she was pleased that the situation had been resolved.
Only, everything wasn’t resolved, and wouldn’t be until after Sheryl’s daughter—his daughter—was born. Matt and Margaret didn’t talk about Sheryl or her baby, but they hadn’t forgotten the other woma
n, either. Her time was drawing close and Matt expected to hear from her any day. In recent weeks, his only contact with his former lover had been through her attorney.
“Did you read that article I gave you about the new worming medication?” Margaret asked as they sat down at the table.
Matt nodded, helping himself to chicken casserole and green beans. “I did and I think it might be a good idea to give it a try.” He’d run the numbers and saw a substantial savings for them if the medication did all it claimed. He described his conclusions and Margaret listened intently. The conversation then drifted to one of the newly hired ranch hands. Margaret wasn’t pleased with his performance and said as much. Matt agreed with her complaints.
“If he can’t get more accomplished in a day, then he’s pushing his luck with me,” Margaret told him as she reached for a dinner roll.
Matt smiled. “They don’t call you a tough broad for nothing.”
Margaret slathered butter on the homemade roll. “You trying to get on my good side?”
“Aren’t I already?”
She attempted to keep back a smile and failed.
Then the phone rang, and Margaret glanced at Matt. “You want to get it?”
What she was really asking, he realized, was whether he thought it might be Sheryl. He shrugged and reluctantly started to get up.
“No, wait,” she said, stopping him. “Let the machine take it.”
He sat down again, and they both strained to hear the voice at the other end of the line.
Sure enough, it was Sheryl.
Matt’s appetite instantly vanished and his stomach cramped. His eyes met Margaret’s and he saw that she was just as tense.
“You’d better pick up, don’t you think?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ll phone her back later.”
Margaret nodded, but the mood of the evening changed. They hardly touched what remained of their dinner. Matt carried his plate to the kitchen, scraping his leftovers into the garbage, then set it in the sink. Margaret followed him and he poured them each a cup of coffee.
“Are you going to call her back?” Margaret pressed.