All of Me (23 page)

And so he did.

Thirty minutes later, they lay together, letting their ragged breathing return to normal. Evie rested her head on his chest.
“Have you done a vision quest about our baby?”

Ridley hesitated, not wanting to get into this, but Evie was having none of his silence. She raised up on one elbow and looked
down at him. “Rid?”

He sighed and put a hand over his eyes. “No.”

“Why not?”

He cleared his throat and reached over to idly stroke her bare breast with the back of his finger, hoping to distract her,
but she had the focus of a border collie herding sheep.

“Well?”

“I’m afraid of what I might see.”

“Or not see.” Her voice was serious.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“I want to go on a vision quest,” she said.

Oh crap, what had he gotten himself into? “It’s not that simple, Evie. You’ve got to believe in it for a vision quest to give
you the guidance you’re looking for. And it’s not like magic. It doesn’t make you psychic or foretell the future. You just
see images, have dreams that guide you to make decisions.”

“You sent Tuck on a vision quest without any hesitation.”

“That was different. Tuck was desperate. And he had an open mind.”

Evie sat up. “I’m desperate to know if we’re going to have any children.”

“Evie, we’re gonna have kids, one way or another.”

“What does that mean?”

“If we have to adopt, we will.”

“I want my own kids,” she whispered. “Our kids. I want to know what it feels like to be pregnant.”

“Come on, you know you’d love an adopted child just as much as you’d love a biological one. You’ve got so much love to give,
Evie.”

“You’re right, but still, I want to try. I want the full experience.”

Ridley blew out his breath. “That’s another reason I don’t want you to go on a vision quest. I don’t know if you could handle
it if you didn’t get the message you’re searching for, and I can’t bear seeing you hurt.”

“I’m hurting now.”

“I know.”

“You’re being stubborn about this.”

“Maybe, but this is my spiritual practice, and you have to respect that. It’s not a parlor trick.” Glaring, he sat up. “You
have to respect it.”

“I can, I will, I promise, if you’ll just go on a vision quest with me,” she pleaded.

He hated to deny her, but it wasn’t that simple. If she didn’t see anything, she’d be disappointed. If she saw something that
told her they couldn’t have their own kids, she’d be crushed. He had to be the bad guy here, for her peace of mind. “I’m sorry,
Evie. The answer is no.”

“No?” Her voice quavered, full of tears. Damn those hormones that could change her mood so quickly.

“That’s right,” he said as calmly as he could. His inclination was to give in, but he had to stand his ground. “No.”

“I’m not sure I can be around you right now.”

“I accept your anger. It’s healthy.”

“Good, you can accept it on the couch.” She shoved a pillow at him. He knew she was just reacting to her fears, but still
a man had only so much patience. “Go sleep on the couch. And you can sleep there until you agree to guide me on a vision quest.”

Ridley jerked back the covers, stormed to his feet, and jammed the pillow under his arm. “Fine, but I’ve got to tell you that
banishing me to the couch is certainly not the way to get the babies you want.”

He slammed the bedroom door behind him and heard her burst into tears.

It was in his nature to go back inside, wrap his arms around her, tell her that he was sorry and that he’d do what she wanted.
But on this matter, he knew he couldn’t give in.

Not just for his sake, but for Evie’s as well.

A
ll right, all right, she was going to stop thinking about Tuck. Right here, right now. No more fantasies about him or that
kiss.

Determinedly, Jillian sucked in her breath, dropped her purse into the bottom drawer of Sutter’s antique desk, and plunked
down into the rolling leather chair. She reached up to run her fingertips over her lips, trying to recapture the feel of Tuck’s
mouth on hers from the night before.

Great, you can’t go two minutes without thinking about him.

Hell, she’d lain awake all night thinking about him.

Stop thinking about him. Now!

Right, right. Head in the game. Purposefully, she straightened the stack of papers in the in-box that didn’t need straightening,
looked up, and spied the ladder she’d moved to the corner yesterday while cleaning up the mess from Tuck’s fall through the
ceiling.

Immediately, she thought of Tuck and how he’d looked standing on that ladder.

Stop it.

She turned on her laptop and slid another glance at the ladder. She could smell Tuck’s scent in the room. Outdoorsy and masculine,
mingling with the musty smell of old house and water-damaged Sheetrock.

It’s just your imagination. You can’t smell him.

All at once, the taste of him filled her mouth, and Jillian just
yearned
for him
.
His kiss had been such a heady combination of need and restraint, of tenderness and demand.

Knock it off. Get to work.

All right, all right. She cracked her knuckles, took a deep breath, and focused her attention on the computer screen.

But she knew the ladder was still there. Standing like a forgotten solider. A constant reminder of the man she was struggling
to forget.

“Dammit,” she muttered, pushing back her chair.

Jillian headed for the ladder with the intention of stuffing it into the adjoining supply room, but before she reached it,
the office door opened and a beautiful young blonde stepped over the threshold.

“Hi,” she said. “You must be Jillian Samuels, the new lawyer everyone in town is buzzing about.”

“I haven’t taken the Colorado bar yet, but, yes, I suppose I am.”

The woman stepped across the room, her hand extended. “Lily Massey.”

“Ah,” Jillian said, shaking her hand. “Bill’s fiancée.”

She beamed. “I am.”

“What can I do for you, Lily?” Jillian asked. “Or did you just stop by to say hi?” She hadn’t been in town long, but she’d
quickly learned people liked to pop in to get a good look at her and satisfy their curiosity. Or size her up before making
their bets in the guess-when-she’s-gonna-leave-town pool.

“I need to speak to you about my prenuptial agreement.”

A real client. Good, good.

“Have a seat,” she invited with a wave at the chair positioned in front of Sutter’s desk.

Lily glanced up and eyed the hole in the ceiling. “What happened?”

“Long story.”

Lily kept staring upward. “Are we safe?”

That was a loaded question. As a lawyer, she knew safety was an illusion. At any moment, you could step off the curb in front
of a Tom Thumb delivery truck and get run down. You could fall through the attic and break your neck. You could drop dead
of a brain tumor in the middle of Starbucks. And yet, she was certain that was not the answer Lily Massey was looking for.

“As long as we don’t go into the attic.” Jillian sat in the rolling leather desk chair, and Lily tentatively eased down across
from her. “So you want to draw up a prenup?”

“No,” she said. “I want you to tear it up.”

“Excuse me?”

Sighing, Lily leaned back against the chair. “My father made me get one. I’m from L.A. Everyone gets a prenup. Dad insisted
when he came up for our engagement party. He thinks he’s protecting me but …” She trailed off.

“But?”

“He doesn’t understand.”

“As a lawyer, I’m afraid I have to side with your father. Do you have significant assets?”

“I’ve got a small trust fund, yes. But Bill has money of his own. He’s been saving for the right woman to come along.”

“That’s all very romantic but not terribly practical. This country’s divorce rate is fifty percent.”

“You’re from a big city, too, aren’t you?” Lily asked.

“Houston.”

“You’ve never lived in a place like Salvation.”

“That’s true.”

“You don’t understand either. About small towns and people with integrity. When they give you their word, it’s law.”

“People in small towns don’t have a lock on integrity. Proportionally, there’s just as much greed and corruption in Salvation
as there is in L.A.”

Lily shook her head. “No, there’s not. You’ll see if you stay long enough. This is a special place. The people in it are special
too.”

Okay, so Lily was a bit delusional. She didn’t seem to know the first thing about human nature.

“I’m guessing Bill is hassling you about the prenup?” Jillian ventured.

“No,” she said. “Exactly the opposite. He cheerfully signed it.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Bill didn’t ask me to sign one.”

“Why not?”

“He says what’s his is mine. Don’t you see?” Lily asked. “My prenup ruins everything.”

Jillian leaned forward. “How so?”

“A prenuptial agreement says I expect the marriage to fail. I don’t.”

“It’s just a legal document to protect you, worst-case scenario.”

“I don’t live my life that way.” Lily shifted, crossing her legs at the knees. “Preparing for the worst and hoping for the
best. I believe that if you prepare for the worst, then that’s what you’re going to get.”

Jillian didn’t expect Lily’s comment to affect her like it did, but suddenly she experienced a yawning hollowness in the pit
of her stomach. That’s what she’d done her entire life. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best—that is, until she moved
to Salvation. She hadn’t prepared for anything. She’d broken her pattern and look where it had gotten her. Living in a house
that in all likelihood she was going to lose, living with a man who made her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

“Instead of destroying your prenup, why not just get Bill to draw one up of his own so you’ll be on equal footing?”

Lily twirled the large marquis-cut diamond on the ring finger of her left hand. “He says he has faith in us, that he knows
we’re destined to be together. He’s not afraid. He loves and trusts me.”

“That’s all well and good, but what’s going to protect you if this marriage doesn’t work out?”

“My faith will protect me. Faith in our love.”

“You’re basing this on emotions. Be practical. Think of your future,” Jillian lobbied.

“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?” Lily tilted her head. “I’m in this marriage for better or worse, for richer for poorer,
in sickness and in health. Bill is the love of my life. Now, if you don’t mind, would you please get the prenup? I’d like
you to witness its destruction.”

“If that’s what you want.” Jillian got up and headed for the file cabinet she’d spent the past week organizing.

“I’d also like you to attend our wedding so you can see for yourself that what Bill and I have is the real deal. It’s on Christmas
Eve at Thunder Mountain Lodge. The whole town’s invited.”

She’s so naïve
. “That’s very kind of you, Lily.”

“So you’ll come? You will still be in Salvation by Christmas?”

Was this a challenge? Or was she just taking it that way? Why not go to the wedding? It wasn’t like she had plans for Christmas
Eve.

“We’re doing it up big,” Lily enticed. “A grand celebration for a big love.”

“Sure, why not,” Jillian accepted, her fingers walking through the files under the M, not really sure why she did.

“That’s great. And, Jillian?”

“Yes?” She looked up, Lily’s prenuptial agreement in her hand.

The young woman’s smile was brilliant. “I hope someday you find
your
true love.”

“I’
M IN A PICKLE
, Aim, and I don’t know how to get out of it,” Tuck spoke out loud to his dead wife. “I need your advice on what to do about
Jillian.”

Dead silence.

Normally when he talked to Aimee, he experienced a comforting peace wrap around him. He knew it was probably all in his mind,
but nevertheless, when he talked, he imagined she was listening, and that made him feel better.

Not today.

Today he felt emptier than he had since he’d fallen into the lake on the anniversary of her death. It was a rotten sensation,
and he wanted to run away from it, but there was nowhere to go, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was held captive
by the cast on his right leg. He couldn’t run from his hobbled mind.

“Aimee?” he tested.

Nothing.

His chest ached. Restlessly, he shifted on the couch. “Are you gone?” he whispered.

From his pallet in the corner beside the fireplace, Mutt lifted his head and gave him an expectant look.

“It’s okay, Muttster, go back to sleep.”

The dog lowered his head, and Tuck tasted something salty on the back of his tongue. He swallowed, blinked, picked up the
remote control, and flipped through the television channels in search of a diversion but found none. He couldn’t concentrate
on mindless daytime TV prattle.

“I’m sorry, Aim. I didn’t mean to kiss her. But you’ve been gone for so long, and I’m so lonely and I miss what we had so
much. I want that again. You were right when you told me that I’d want it again, but I didn’t believe you. I don’t want to
want another woman. But I do.”

Dammit. The salty taste was back in his mouth again. He clenched his jaw and swiped at his eyes with his sleeve.

“Aimee?” he murmured, reaching desperately for something he knew was long gone.

Mutt whined.

“When you’re right, dog, you’re right. There’s no one here but me and you. I gotta let go. I know, I know … but seriously,
how the hell does a guy do that? And what woman’s gonna want me with all my emotional baggage?”

Mutt barked.

A knock sounded on the door.

Tuck blinked, scrubbed at his eyes, and took a deep breath, struggling to tamp down his emotions and hoping whoever was at
the front door would just go away. After the fifth knock, he heard the door handle jiggle open.

“Tuck, you in here?” Ridley called from the doorway.