Seven
John Lee rolled from the bed and to his feet in one smooth move, then had to grab for the mattress when his bad knee refused to take his weight. “Mistake!” he yelled, forcing himself to a standing position. “And where, may I ask, was the mistake in us making love?”
Merideth caught her lip between her teeth at the hurt she heard in his voice. She didn’t want to hurt him. But she didn’t want him to hurt her, either. And one of them was bound to get hurt if she allowed this to continue. Better to end it now, while there was a chance they could still be friends.
She closed her eyes, gathering her emotions deeply inside herself, not wanting him to see the lie behind the performance she was about to give. When she was sure she was in control, she feigned a sigh, then rolled over and sat up, fluffing her hair.
“There was nothing wrong with your abilities,” she assured him, “if that’s what you’re concerned about.” She cocked her head and smiled coyly. “In fact, I rather enjoyed our little tryst. But in all fairness, John Lee, for us to even consider an affair is ludicrous.”
He had swelled at the word tryst, but exploded at the word ludicrous. “Ludicrous!” he roared, his face flushing an angry red. “And what is ludicrous about us having an affair?”
She drew a delicate hand to her throat and looked at him in surprise, though she was dying inside. “Why, I’d think that’s obvious.” She opened her hand, gesturing toward him. “You’re a cowboy, a man who enjoys the simple things in life, while I—” she pointed gracefully at herself “—prefer a more cosmopolitan life-style. Oil and water. We simply don’t mix.”
John Lee sucked in a furious breath. “Well, excuse me for differing with you, Miss High-and-Mighty McCloud, but I thought we mixed just fine.” He yanked his hat from the foot of the bed and rammed it on his head. “But now that you’ve brought it to my attention, I can see that you were right. We don’t mix. In fact, I wonder how I stomached kissing you at all, much less making love to you.”
Staring at the door John Lee had slammed behind him, Merideth heaved a long shuddery breath and let the mask she’d assumed drop, releasing all the emotions she’d kept locked up inside. Regret rose, clogging her throat, stinging her eyes. With her lips trembling uncontrollably, she drew a pillow across her raised knees and fisted her hands in its softness.
She wouldn’t cry, she told herself. If she did, she was afraid she’d never be able to stop.
She tried to tell herself that she’d done the right thing, that a confrontation was inevitable and that she was wise to put an end to the relationship before one of them was hurt. But for some reason, she didn’t find comfort in her reassurances. What she wanted, needed, was John Lee. She wanted to call him back, to take back the lies she’d told him. She wanted to curl up against his side again with his arm wrapped around her. She wanted to feel the comforting warmth of his body next to hers. She wanted to laugh and tease with him. She wanted to feel the pressure of his lips on hers, to experience again that dizzying loss of control.
She wanted to pretend those other women didn’t exist.
A whimper from the nursery interrupted her thoughts. Tossing aside the pillow, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and hurried across the room, pulling on her robe.
Cassie was sitting up in her crib and when she saw Merideth, she lifted her arms, her chin quivering.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” Merideth whispered as she scooped her from the crib. “How are you feeling?”
More asleep than awake, Cassie snuggled against Merideth’s neck and rubbed sleepily at her eyes. “You shouldn’t be waking up yet,” Merideth scolded gently. She laid a hand on the baby’s cheek, thinking the fever had returned and that was what had awakened her, but was relieved to find the cheek cool to her touch. She started to lay Cassie back down so she could finish her nap, but when she did, Cassie clung to Merideth, whimpering.
Knowing full well she was spoiling her, Merideth drew her back into her arms, crossed to the rocker and sat down. Pushing a bare foot against the carpet, she set the rocker in motion, needing Cassie’s comforting warmth as much as Cassie obviously needed to be held.
Burying her nose in Cassie’s soft, downy hair, she closed her eyes and smiled a watery smile. A month ago she hadn’t been able to touch Cassie, much less hold her. Her grief over the loss of her son wouldn’t allow her to. But Cassie, in her innocence, had helped heal her heart. Merideth only hoped that she’d been able to fill the void in Cassie’s life as well.
With a sigh, she pressed her lips to Cassie’s head, then drew back to look at her. That angelic face with its cute button nose and the eyes that were so much like John Lee’s. As Merideth watched, Cassie’s lids grew heavier and heavier until finally she closed her eyes and snuggled closer, burrowing against Merideth’s breasts, her tiny hand still fisted in Merideth’s robe. Merideth closed her hand over the fist, her heart swelling.
Oh, how she’d grown to love this precious baby.
John Lee kicked his horse into a lope and headed for the north pasture and the hill beyond that marked his ranch’s border. “‘Oil and water,’ my ass,” he muttered darkly, bringing Merideth’s words to mind. The wind whipped at his shirt and he rammed his hat a little farther down on his head to keep it from being ripped off his head.
He raced the horse across the pasture, dodging rabbit holes and the occasional scrub of mesquite, and blowing off a little steam. At the bank of a narrow gully, he squeezed his knees at the horse’s sides and leaned forward, urging his horse to take the jump. They sailed over the chasm and landed on the opposite side with a scrape of rock and a flurry of dust. Urging his horse on, he rode hard, letting the wind cool his temper and the breakneck speed soothe the dent Merideth had left in his manly pride.
At the top of the hill, he reined the horse in and swung to the ground. Leaving his horse to graze, he stepped out onto the cliff and looked down on Double-Cross land.
Below him lay the spring-fed pond and the slab of limestone where Merideth had lain sunbathing that first day he’d seen her. He hunkered down and plucked a blade of grass to twirl between his fingers, frowning as he stared at the slab of rock.
A country boy. That’s what she’d called him, using that as an example of their differences. But if she’d thought she’d offended him by calling him such, she was wrong. John Lee Carter was a country boy and damn proud of it. Even during his years in the NFL, when he’d run with some pretty high rollers and received invitations to glamorous parties and exotic locations, he’d never left his boots and hat behind, or the way of life they represented. He was proud of his heritage, comfortable with his image, and damned if he’d change for anyone, including Merideth McCloud.
Oil and water, he thought in disgust, and tossed the shredded blade of grass aside. Well, maybe they were different in some ways, but in the important ones, they fit like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. She’d realize that, too, if she ever pulled that snooty nose of hers out of the clouds long enough to give it some real thought.
He plopped down on the ground, drawing up his bad knee to rub at the ache there as he thought over the situation. Something wasn’t right, he told himself after a moment’s reflection. A woman didn’t go from cuddly and sweet to cool indifference in the blink of an eye. Something had to happen to warrant that change. Frowning, he played the entire scene back through his mind in slow motion.
They’d been sitting on the bed, all cuddled up and talking real friendly-like, he remembered, just before he’d rolled to his side and kissed her. He squinted, trying hard to recall if he’d said anything or done anything that might’ve set her off, but couldn’t think of a dadblasted thing. She’d simply pushed him away with a firm no.
He frowned again, his forehead plowing into deep furrows, and looked down at that slab of limestone as if it might hold the answer for him. His thoughts shifted to that first day he’d seen her there, remembering how lost she’d looked, how pitiful. . .and the sassiness she’d tried to hide it all behind.
Slowly, the furrows smoothed on his forehead. It was an act, he told himself. A full-fledged, Oscar-winning act. She’d wanted that kiss as badly as he had, but for some reason she was pretending that she didn’t.
But why?
He pulled off his hat and scratched his head, thinking, and his thoughts carried him back to that morning several weeks back when Muffy had called. He and Merideth had been kissing then, too, and, if John Lee wasn’t mistaken—and he considered himself a pretty good judge of such matters—on the verge of making love again, when the phone had rung, interrupting them.
That was when it all started. The coolness, the silence. And if the crisis with Cassie hadn’t happened, bringing everything to a head and forcing them to talk, he was sure he’d still be suffering that frigid silence.
He plucked another blade of grass from the ground and clamped it between his teeth. She was jealous, or at least she had been initially. And if a woman was jealous, that usually meant she was interested. If she wasn’t, what was the point of getting all puffed up and frosty?
He frowned, studying that notion from a different angle. If a woman showed signs of jealousy, that meant that more than likely she was wanting a more exclusive relationship with a man.
A shudder chased down John Lee’s spine at the thought and he pulled the blade of grass from his mouth and tossed it aside before he choked on it.
Exclusive? He swallowed hard. As in him having to give up all his other women? Another shudder shook him and he broke out in a cold sweat. Dragging off his hat, he swiped his arm along his forehead, then slowly settled the hat back on his head.
One woman, he thought, and pressed a hand against his chest, sure that the air was getting thicker, because he was having a hard time drawing a breath.
He couldn’t imagine being stuck with one woman the rest of his life, not when there were so many out there. Tall ones and short ones. Curvy ones and slim ones. Redheads and blondes. All of ‘em just ripe for the pickin’.
Without meaning to, he let his thoughts drift to Merideth and that long mane of blond hair of hers that he liked tangling his hands in. And those eyes. A clear sparkling blue when she was smiling, but when she was aroused, they changed, darkening and heating to almost indigo. She had a body made for lovin’, what with those luscious, sweet-tasting breasts, that tiny waist, and hips that a man could grab ahold of. And that sulky mouth of hers, all moist and pouty, just begging to be kissed. . .well, hell, a man didn’t stand a chance when confronted with all that womanliness!
He groaned and stretched out his leg, rubbing at his knee. But maybe she wasn’t jealous, he told himself. After all, it was Merideth he was dealing with. The woman had more moods than ought to be legal and switched ’em so fast a man could get plumb dizzy just trying to keep up. Maybe this was just one of her moods and she was stuck in it a little longer than normal.
He sighed, weary from thinking about it all, and plucked another piece of grass and stuck it between his teeth. So what was he going to do about the situation? he asked himself. Was he going to let her go on pretending she wasn’t attracted to him, or was he going to force the issue?
John Lee snatched the blade of grass from his mouth and hopped to his feet. Damned if he was going to let her go on playacting with him! If she didn’t want an affair, then by God, she could come right out and say so—and explain her reasons for not wanting to, while she was at it. There wasn’t any sense in him sitting around, trying to second-guess her. Who could outguess a woman like Merideth McCloud? And if her answer was still no. . .well, John Lee could be pretty persuasive when the situation warranted it.
Crossing to his horse, he gathered up his reins and swung up into the saddle, feeling rather pleased with himself.
Life was a whole lot like a football game, he reflected philosophically as he headed his horse for home. A game with opposing players, each with a goal in mind. A person either played the game offensively or defensively, and personally John Lee had always fancied the offensive attack. Pushing toward a goal, trying to outsmart the opposition and gain a little yardage. He knew from experience that throwing a pass, going for the big play, or pushing through a tough defensive line was a whole lot more fun then having to dig in and try and hold a position on the field.
And that’s where he’d gone wrong. He hadn’t approached this situation with Merideth offensively. He’d been too busy defending. But things were about to change. He chuckled. Yesirree. A little quarterback sneak might be appropriate about now, and if that didn’t work, well, there was always the Hail Mary.
Merideth stuffed the last of the wet towels into the dryer and closed the door, then leaned to set the timer. Shoving back a silk sleeve, she reached for the stack of dirty clothes and began to sort out the whites from the colored fabrics and drop them into the washing machine.
While she was in the midst of sorting the clothes, Mrs. Baker walked in, lugging the ironing board. “What do you think you’re doing?” she fussed as she hung the ironing board on its rack. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”
Merideth bit back a smile at the concern in the woman’s voice. “I’m not sick, Mrs. Baker.”
The housekeeper pursed her lips, but Merideth could see the worry in her eyes, and was touched by it.
“And who said you were?” she groused gently. She waved a hand, shooing Merideth away. “Now get on with you. Laundry’s my job. Cassie’s yours.”
“But she’s asleep,” Merideth complained, tired of being in bed.
“And you should be, too. Doctor’s orders. Now scoot! Or John Lee’ll have my hide.”
Knowing it would do no good to argue, Merideth turned for the kitchen. Whether she wanted it or not, it seemed she would get the rest the doctor insisted she needed. Little did he know, though, that her exhaustion wasn’t a result of overwork, but due to a lack of sleep, and that was all John Lee’s fault.
Sighing, she passed through the kitchen, headed for her room. The phone rang, and she called to Mrs. Baker, “I’ll get it!” then mumbled, “Unless of course you think I’m too weak to pick up the phone.”
Biting back a smile, she cradled the receiver between shoulder and ear as she uncuffed the sleeve on her robe and smoothed it down her arm. “Carter residence.”
“Hello, darling. How are you?”
Her smile melted at the sound of the familiar male voice. She dropped her hand from her sleeve to grip the phone against her ear, her stomach knotting. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Mandy. Though she seemed a bit hesitant to tell me. You aren’t still angry with me are you, darling?”
“Angry?” she repeated, her fingers convulsing on the receiver. “For what, Marcus? For being an insensitive jerk?”
“Now, Merideth,” he warned, “you know how much I detest emotional scenes.”
She sucked in a furious breath. Oh, she knew all right She could imagine him sitting in his sterile apartment, dressed impeccably as always, his tie knotted perfectly and not a hair out of place. A crystal goblet of wine would be on the beveled glass table at his right and beneath it a marble coaster. Even now he was probably reaching for the glass, centering it perfectly over the circle of marble. Nothing out of order, nothing out of place. She wondered how she’d stood it.
“Yes, you’re right of course,” she said, fighting for calm. “I’d forgotten.” But she couldn’t resist adding, “And I’m sure that’s why you refused to come to the hospital when you were called.”
“Your sisters were with you. You didn’t need me there as well.”
She pressed a fist against her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the memory of that awful day, the terror, the pain, and having to suffer through it all alone for seven hours until Sam and Mandy had arrived. “No, you’re right,” she said, knowing what he said was true. “I didn’t need you.” She inhaled deeply, pressing her fingers against her lips. “But you might have at least come for your son’s sake. He needed you.”
“For Chrissake, Merideth,” he said in disgust. “You lost the baby. It wasn’t even fully formed.”
All the fury, all the resentment that she’d suppressed, boiled up inside Merideth. “It,” she screamed in a voice that had Mrs. Baker running into the kitchen to see what was the matter, “was a baby boy. A fully developed baby boy, with ten little fingers and ten little toes. He was your son! Our son!”
“Thankfully, we were spared that,” he replied in a voice devoid of emotion. “You know I never wanted children, nor did you, as I recall.”
Tears welled, blinding her, but they were for the son she’d lost, not for herself. “You’re wrong, Marcus. I wanted him. I loved him.”
He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “I can see that the automobile accident has left you more emotionally scarred than I’d thought. I’d called to discuss a business matter, but perhaps I should postpone the conversation until another time, when you’ve had a chance to recover fully.”
She took a shuddery breath. “Don’t bother.” With that Merideth slammed the receiver back on its base, then covered her face with her hands. She felt an arm go around her and turned into it, burying her face against Mrs. Baker’s shoulder. Deep, heaving, wracking sobs ripped through her.
“There, there,” Mrs. Baker soothed. “Have a good cry, if it’ll make you feel better.” And Merideth did cry, emptying her body, her soul of every emotion she’d suppressed for the last two months. All the grief over the baby she’d lost, the anger, the resentment toward Marcus and his refusal to acknowledge the child they had created together. The loss of the career that she’d worked so hard for. The mess she’d made of her life. When there was nothing left inside, a shudder passed through her, leaving her trembling.
Mrs. Baker took a step back, but kept an arm firmly around Merideth’s shoulder. “Come on,” she urged gently, guiding Merideth toward the kitchen door. “Let’s get you back into bed.”
Merideth awakened slowly, feeling as if her face had been dipped in starch. She felt hollow inside, empty, as if someone had drilled a hole and drained the life from her body. She pressed a hand to her cheek, trying to remember.
Then it all came back to her. The call from Marcus. Mrs. Baker holding her while she cried. The dear woman tucking her into bed, with Merideth arguing that she couldn’t possibly sleep. But obviously she had.
She had to get up now, she told herself, though the urge to bury her head under the pillow was strong. Mrs. Baker would want to go home and Cassie would need feeding and a bath. Lifting a hand that seemed to be weighted with lead, she pushed back her hair and blinked open her eyes.
John Lee sat opposite her, watching her. He sat so still, his expression so serious that she was sure something terrible had happened.
“Cassie?” she whispered hoarsely, her first thought going to the baby.
“She’s fine. Mrs. Baker is feeding her dinner. She thought you needed the rest.”
Closing her eyes, Merideth released a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart.”
“You were long overdue.”
Merideth opened her eyes to look at him, at that strong handsome face, those deep blue eyes, remembering the hurt, the anger that she’d seen there last. But now she found only compassion. Even as she identified it, he reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Gratefully, almost desperately, she twined her fingers around his.
“Mrs. Baker told me about the phone call,” he told her. “Or at least as much as she heard of it.”
Tears budded again, which surprised Merideth. She was sure that she’d cried them all out.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.
“There’s really nothing to tell. Marcus is an insensitive ass, but I already knew that.”
“I take it that Marcus was the father of your son?”
Emotion clotted her throat and Merideth could only nod.
Feeling her pain as if it were his own, John Lee squeezed her hand between his. He hated asking and dreaded even more hearing her answer, but he had to know. “Do you still love him?”
“No. I never did.”
Relief washed through him, though he wondered why her negative response was so important to him. “Then why the tears?”
“I’m not crying for me,” she said, trying her best to stem the flow of emotion. “I’m crying for my baby.” She picked up the comer of the sheet and dabbed at her cheeks. “Oh, John Lee,” she cried. “Can you imagine how awful it must be to never feel loved?”
He cocked his head and frowned.
Knowing she wasn’t making any sense, but wanting desperately for him to understand, Merideth tried her best to explain. “Marcus didn’t want the baby. He rejected him, both physically and emotionally. He wouldn’t even come to the hospital after he’d learned what happened.” She pressed the sheet against her lips, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “And I did that to my son. I gave him an insensitive, coldhearted father, a man who couldn’t love him.”
John Lee moved to sit beside her and pressed their joined hands against his thigh. “Merideth,” he soothed, “you aren’t responsible for Marcus’s emotions, only your own. And you loved your baby, didn’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered, clutching the sheet to her heart. “I loved him so much.”
“And he felt that love, I’m sure, all through the months you carried him.”
Hearing John Lee say that comforted Merideth in a way that nothing had before. She’d been unconscious when her son was born, unable to hold him or welcome him into the world, no matter how brief his stay there. She’d wanted him to know he was loved, and had carried a tremendous guilt that she hadn’t been able to give him that assurance.
“He was born almost five months premature and lived less than one hour. I never got to hold him,” she murmured sadly, tipping her face up to look at him. “That’s why it was so hard for me to hold Cassie at first.”
That she’d suffered was obvious. That she’d done so alone, pulled at John Lee’s heart. He wanted desperately to say something that would erase all the painful memories, that would bring the light back into her eyes, but could think of nothing.
With no words left to offer, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Instead of pulling away as he’d feared she might, rejecting him as she had earlier that day, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, and laid a hand on his chest. Pressing his head against hers, he covered her hand with his and drew her closer, offering her the only thing he had to give. . .his comfort.
“We lived together for almost two years,” Merideth murmured softly, needing, after holding it inside for so long, to tell John Lee everything. “He was the producer of the show. A handsome man, powerful, but cold.” She paused, shivering. “I didn’t realize how cold.
“When I discovered I was pregnant, he was furious, and demanded that I have an abortion. I refused and we argued, each hurling accusations at the other. He threatened to cancel my contract, to ruin my career, but I didn’t believe he’d do it. I thought the threat was just his way of getting rid of me.
“So I moved out and into a hotel, telling him that I intended to keep the baby, and whether he chose to have a part in the child’s life or not was up to him. The weeks that followed were a nightmare.” She shuddered, remembering, and John Lee tightened his arm around her.
“I only saw him at the studio, but he made my life a living hell. He found fault with everything I did. My delivery was off, my makeup wrong, my hair too stiff. He had the director call for script changes, changing my lines, cutting me out of more and more scenes as my pregnancy began to show.”
She inhaled deeply, her hand clutching John Lee’s shirt. “Finally, I’d had enough. I went to his office to confront him, but his secretary refused to let me in. I was determined to have it out with him once and for all, so I stormed past her. When I burst into his office, he was sitting behind his desk, casually sipping a glass of wine. It was as if he was expecting me, as if he’d planned everything to lead up to that point.
“There was an envelope on his desk and he pressed a finger against it and shoved it across the desk. Then he smiled. Not a nice smile, but an evil one.” A shiver chased down her spine as if she were seeing it again, feeling its threat. “A letter of severance was inside the envelope and a check. My career was over. Marcus had bought out my contract, ending my career on the show.
“I was furious, but I knew there was nothing I could do. As the producer, he had all the power. So I left. Marcus didn’t waste any time stripping me of everything that I’d worked for, that I had earned. When I reached the street, my limousine was gone. Knowing that he was probably watching from his office above, I hailed a taxi. It was raining and the streets were slick and clogged with traffic. We were within a block of my hotel when another car swerved into the lane in front of us.”
She pressed a hand to her brow and squeezed. “I don’t remember anything after that. Just flashes of sound, the sirens screaming. Voices at the hospital. I remember being wheeled down a corridor and through a set of doors. Then nothing.
“I was told later that they anesthetized me and did an emergency C-section. I must have come to for a moment, because I remember seeing him, my son. Just a flash, really. As if through a thick fog. I remember wanting to hold him, and begging them to please let me, but I couldn’t make them understand me. There was a tube in my throat and my hands were strapped to the table. They must have increased the anesthetic then, because I don’t remember anything after that. Nothing. Not until the next day, when I came to in the intensive care unit.”
John Lee tightened his arms around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Merideth.”
She inhaled deeply, and realized how much better she felt after talking about it, sharing it all. She squeezed his arm, grateful to him for listening, for caring enough to offer comfort. “It’s okay. Really. I’m better now.” Even as she said it, she realized it was true. And she had John Lee to thank for that. She pushed away from him, but kept her hands gripped tightly on his arms as she looked up at him.
The smile she offered was a trembly one, but seeing it made John Lee smile in return. “You’re sure?”
She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Positive. Thanks to you and Cassie.”
“There’s someone here who wants to say hello.”
Merideth and John Lee looked up to find Mrs. Baker standing in the doorway, holding Cassie.
A smile bloomed on Merideth’s face and she held out her arms. Mrs. Baker crossed to the bed and passed Cassie to her.
“There’s my beautiful little princess,” Merideth cooed, holding Cassie out in front of her. “And what have you been doing while I was sleeping?”
Laughing, Cassie kicked her chubby legs and squealed, “Murrrr.”
Merideth’s mouth dropped open. “Did you hear that?” she asked, looking up at Mrs. Baker. “She said Merideth.”
Mrs. Baker just chuckled and turned and left the room.
“John Lee,” Merideth insisted. “Did you hear her?”
“Yeah, sugar, I heard her.”
“Don’t you think she was trying to say Merideth?”
John Lee pursed his lips thoughtfully, thankful that the storm was over and Merideth was smiling again. “I don’t know. Kinda sounded like gas to me.”
“Oh, you.” Merideth poked him in the ribs with her elbow then sat Cassie down on her lap, drawing the baby’s tiny hands between her larger ones. She dipped her face close to hers. “Say it again, sweetheart. Say Merideth.”
Cassie looked up at her, her eyes wide, a drip of drool glistening on her lower lip. “Murrr,” she said again.
Laughing, Merideth scooped her up and hugged her tight against her. “She did say it!” she cried, and hugged Cassie again. “I told you she could say my name.”
John Lee chuckled. “Worst case of gas I’ve ever heard.”
Merideth frowned at him. “You’re just jealous because she learned to say my name before she did yours.”
He pulled his arm from around Merideth’s shoulders and took Cassie from her. “She can say my name. You just haven’t heard her.” Holding Cassie under her arms, he stood her up on his thighs. “Say John Lee, Cassie,” he told her. “Jo-o-ohn Le-e-e-e,” he repeated, drawing out the sounds.
She clapped her hands, chortling. “Geeee. Geeee.”
John Lee smiled proudly, cocking his head to look at Merideth. “See? What’d I tell you?”
Merideth held out her hands and Cassie reached for her. Smiling smugly, Merideth took her from him and sat her on her lap again. “Yes, but she said my name first.”