Duncan's Bride (19 page)

Reese found her there. He had noticed that the kitchen light wasn't on when he got home, but he had taken care of the evening chores before going into the
house. The kitchen was empty, with no sign of meal preparations in progress, and the house was strangely silent. “Maddie?” When there was no answer, a worried frown creased his forehead, and he searched the downstairs, then started up the stairs. “Maddie?”

He turned on the light in the bedroom, and there she was, curled on her side on the bed. She didn't stir even when the light came on. He'd never known her to nap during the day, and he was instantly alarmed. Was she sick? She had seemed okay that morning. He was dirty from the day's work, but he didn't care about that as he sat down on the side of the bed and turned her onto her back. She felt warm under his hands, but not unusually so. He shook her, and worry sharpened his tone. “Maddie, wake up!”

Slowly her lids drifted upward, and she sighed. “Reese,” she murmured, but she couldn't keep her eyes open.

He shook her again. “Are you all right? Wake up.”

Reluctantly she roused, lifting one hand to rub her eyes. “What time is it?” Then she looked at him again as realization sank in and said, “Oh my God, dinner!”

“Dinner can wait. Are you all right?”

Her heart lurched as she stared up at him. His face was lined and grayish with fatigue, but there was worry in his eyes, not irritation. Automatically she reached up to touch his cheek, stroking her fingers over the high ridge of his cheekbone. She loved everything about this man, even his stubborn temper. She took his hand and placed it on her belly. “I'm pregnant,” she whispered. “We're having a baby.”

His pupils dilated, and he looked down at his hand on her slender body. From the time she had stopped taking the birth control pills, every time he had made love
to her he had been aware that he might impregnate her, but the reality of having her say she was pregnant was still almost a physical shock. His baby was growing under his hand, utterly protected in her flat little belly.

He slid off the bed onto his knees beside it, still dazed. “When?” he asked in a strained tone.

“The last week in October, or the first week in November.”

He unsnapped her jeans and slid the zipper down, then spread the fly open so he could touch her skin. He pushed her sweatshirt up out of the way and slowly leaned forward, first pressing a light kiss to her belly, then resting his cheek against it. Madelyn stroked his hair and wondered if the baby would have dark coloring like him or her fairness. It was such a new, wonderful consideration, their child, created from the raw passion that still burned between them. Seven more months suddenly seemed too long to wait to hold it, to see Reese's powerful hands turn gentle as he cradled his child. “Do you want a boy or a girl?” she asked, still whispering, as if normal speech might spoil the sweetness of this moment.

“Does it matter?” He rubbed his rough cheek against her belly, his eyes closing as he luxuriated in the caress.

“Not to me.”

“Or to me.” Silence grew in the room as he fully absorbed the news; then finally he lifted his head. “Are you feeling sick?”

“I was a little nauseated, but mostly I was incredibly tired. I tried, but I just couldn't keep my eyes open,” she said apologetically.

“Are you all right now?”

She thought about it, mentally taking stock of herself, then nodded. “All systems are go.”

He moved back and let her get to her feet, then caught her to him and tilted her mouth up. The expression in his eyes was intense as he gave her a hard, brief kiss. “Are you certain?”

“I'm certain.” She smiled and looped her arms around his neck, letting her weight swing from them. “You'll know if I'm feeling sick. I'll turn green and keel over.”

He cupped her bottom and held her against him as he kissed her again, and this time there was nothing brief about it. Madelyn held him tightly, her eyes closing as his familiar nearness sent warmth through her. She loved him so much it sometimes frightened her; she hoped he would remember that.

His lovemaking that night was achingly tender and incredibly prolonged. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, taking her again and again, staying inside her for a long time afterward. They finally went to sleep like that, with her leg thrown over his hip, and she thought it had never been more perfect than it was then, with Reese in her arms and his child in her womb.

A
WEEK LATER
Reese walked back to the house from the barn with a defeated expression on his face. Madelyn watched him from the kitchen window and knew she couldn't put it off any longer. She simply couldn't let him worry any longer; better to enrage him than watch the lines settle deeper in his face every day. He would sit in his office for hours every night, going over and over the books, pacing and running his hands through his hair, then trying it again, only to come up with the same figures and no hope.

She heard him come in and take off his muddy boots;
then he came into the kitchen in his sock feet. “The truck needs a new oil pump,” he said tiredly.

She twisted the hand towel she was holding. “Then buy one.” Tension was tightening her muscles, and she swallowed the faint rise of nausea.

His mouth was bitter. “Why bother? We won't be here another month anyway.”

Slowly she hung up the towel then turned to face him, leaning back against the cabinet for support. “Yes, we will.”

He thought he knew what she meant. He could call Robert—but Robert would have to be a fool to invest in the ranch now. He had put it off as long as he could, and now he didn't see anything else he could do. Madelyn was pregnant; she had her first doctor's appointment the next day, and money would be required up front. Then they were facing bills from the hospital, and he didn't have medical insurance. That had been one of the first things to go.

“I'll call Robert,” he said gently. “But don't hope too much.”

She put her shoulders back and took a deep breath. “Call Robert if you want, after I tell you what I have to tell you. You'll be in a different situation then and—” She stopped, looking at him helplessly, and began again. “I paid off the mortgage with my trust fund.”

For a moment he didn't react at all, just watched her silently, and she started to hope. Then his eyes began to chill, and she braced herself.

“What?” he asked very softly.

“I paid off the mortgage. The papers are in my underwear drawer.”

Without a word he turned and went upstairs. Madelyn followed, her heart pounding. She had faced his
anger before without turning a hair, but this was different. This was striking at the very basis of his feelings.

He jerked her underwear drawer open just as she entered the bedroom. She hadn't stuffed the papers in the bottom; they were lying right there in plain sight. He picked them up and flipped through them, noting the amount and date on the documents.

He didn't look up. “How did you arrange it?”

“I went to Billings last week, the day you told me about the mortgage. Banks don't care who pays off loans so long as they get their money, and since I'm your wife they didn't question it.”

“Did you think presenting me with a fait accompli would change my mind?”

She wished that he would stop using that soft voice. When Reese was angry he roared, and she could handle that, but this was something new.

His head came up, and she flinched. His eyes were like green ice. “Answer me.”

She stood very still. “No, I didn't think anything would change your mind, and that's why I did it behind your back.”

“You were right. Nothing would change my mind. I'll see you in hell before you get any part of this ranch.”

“I don't want to take the ranch away from you. I've never wanted that.”

“You've played your part well, Maddie, I'll give you that. You haven't complained, you've acted like a perfect wife. You even carried it so far as to pretend you love me.”

“I do love you.” She took a step toward him, her hands outstretched. “Listen—”

Suddenly the rage in him erupted, and he threw the sheaf of papers at her. They separated and swirled
around her, then drifted to the floor. “That's what I think of your so-called ‘love,'” he said with gritted teeth. “If you think doing something you knew I couldn't bear is an expression of ‘love,' then you don't have any idea what the real thing is.”

“I didn't want you to lose the ranch—”

“So you just took care of the mortgage. Any divorce court now would consider you a co-owner, wouldn't they? They'd figure I talked you into investing your inheritance and the prenuptial agreement wouldn't mean a damn. Hell, why should you get less than April? This isn't the operation it once was, but the land is worth a hell of a lot.”

“I don't want a divorce, I haven't even thought of divorce,” she said desperately. “I wanted to keep the ranch for you. At least this way you have a chance to rebuild it, if you'll just take it!”

He said sarcastically, “Yeah, if it's worth more, you'll get more.”

“For the last time, I don't want a divorce!”

He reached out and pinched her chin, the gesture savagely playful. “You just might get one anyway, dollface, because I sure as hell don't want a wife who'd knife me in the back like that. You weren't my first choice, and I should have listened to my instincts, but you had me as hot as a sixteen-year-old after my first piece in the backseat. April was a bitch, but you're worse, Maddie, because you played along and pretended this was just what you wanted. Then you slipped the blade between my ribs so slick I never even saw it coming.”

“This
is
what I want.” She was pale, her eyes darkening.

“Well, you're not what I want. You're hot between
the sheets, but you don't have what it takes to be a ranch wife,” he said cruelly.

“Reese Duncan, if you're trying to run me off, you're doing a good job of it,” she warned shakily.

He raised his eyebrows. His tone was icily polite. “Where would you like to go? I'll give you a ride.”

“If you'll climb down off that mountain of pride you'll see how wrong you are! I don't want to take the ranch away. I want to live here and raise our children here. You and I aren't the only ones involved in this. I'm carrying your baby, and it's his heritage, too!”

His eyes went black as he remembered the baby, and his gaze swept down her slender figure. “On second thought, you aren't going anywhere. You're staying right here until that baby's born. Then I don't care what the hell
you
do, but my kid is staying with me.”

Coldness settled inside her, pushing away the hurt and anger that had been building with every word he said. Understanding could go only so far. Sympathy held out only so long. He didn't love her, and he didn't believe in her love for him, so exactly how much of a marriage did they have? One made of mirrors and moonshine, and held together by sex. She stared at him, her eyes going blank. Later there would be pain, but not now.

She said very carefully, “When you calm down you'll regret saying this.”

“The only thing I regret is marrying you.” He took her purse from the top of the dresser and opened it.

“What are you looking for?” She made no effort to grab it from him. In any test of strength against him she would be humiliated.

He held up the car keys. “These.” He dropped her purse and shoved the keys into his pocket. “Like I said,
you're not going anywhere with my kid inside you. The only moving you're doing is out of my bed. There are three other bedrooms. Pick one, and keep your butt in it.”

He stalked from the room, being very careful not to touch her. Madelyn sank down on the bed, her legs folding under her like spaghetti. She could barely breathe, and dark spots swam in front of her eyes. Cold chills made her shake.

She didn't know how long it was before her mind began to function again, but finally it did, slowly at first, then with gathering speed. She began to get angry, a calm, deep, slow-burning anger that grew until it had destroyed all the numbness.

She got up and began methodically moving her things out of Reese's bedroom and into the room where she had slept the night she had visited him. She didn't move a few token things in the hope that he would get over his temper, reconsider and tell her to stay put; she purged the bedroom of all signs of her presence. She left the mortgage papers lying where they were in the middle of the room. Let him walk over them if he didn't want to pick them up.

If he wanted war, she'd give him war.

Pride prompted her to stay in her bedroom and not speak to him; pregnancy insisted that she eat. She went downstairs and cooked a full meal in an effort to rub a little salt in his wounds. If he didn't want to eat what she had prepared, then he could either do it himself or do without.

But he came to the table when she called him and ate his usual hearty meal. As she was clearing the dishes away she said, “Don't forget the doctor's appointment in the morning.”

He didn't look at her. “I'll drive you. You aren't getting the keys back.”

“Fine.”

Then she went upstairs, showered and went to bed.

The next morning they didn't speak a word all the way to Billings. When her name was called in the doctor's office, which was filled with women in various stages of pregnancy, she got up and walked past him to follow the nurse. He turned his head, watching the graceful sway of her retreating figure. In a few months she would lose her grace and the sway would become a waddle. His hand tightened into a fist, and it was all he could do to keep from swearing aloud.
How could she have done that to him?

Madelyn was questioned, stuck, checked, probed and measured. When she had dressed she was directed into the doctor's office, and in a moment Reese joined her, followed shortly by the doctor.