The Comforts of Home (24 page)

She put her arm around his waist, steadying him. In a few minutes Foster would come with the chair and make him sit, but Jeremiah was tough; he pushed his time on his feet as far as he could every day.

Tonight, he let her help him a little as he continued to stare at Noah. “You know, during the war, I saw men who acted like your fel er has this past week.”

“He’s not my fel er, he’s my friend,” she corrected. “But that’s not important. What do you mean?”

Jeremiah just watched for a while, then said his thoughts. “He’s mighty brave, don’t you think?”

“Foolishly so. There aren’t many who’d climb on a bul one time much less several times a week. He’s had so many cuts and broken bones he carries a medical folder with him, just to save the emergency rooms time.”

“Does he talk about going back?”

She nodded. “Constantly.”

“Does he talk about when?”

She paused, surprised by the question. “No,” she final y said. “He doesn’t. Foster says he’s healing fine, so it shouldn’t be too long.” She frowned. “Though he stil says his back keeps him awake even if the doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong. For Noah, rodeoing was always his dream. Now it’s his life. Maybe that’s why he seems so sad. He can’t wait to go back to it.”

Jeremiah patted her shoulder. “When I was in the war I saw men brave like Noah. They were always up, always helping others make it, always ready for the fight. Then, one day, one battle, they snapped. For some of those soldiers their wounds weren’t al that bad, but one day they just couldn’t go back into battle. Maybe they saw the end.”

“What happened?”

“Some went home. Some got talked back into staying in the fight. They ran into battle just like before, yel ing and fighting their hearts out.”

“What happened? They became heroes?”

“A few. Most became dead. I think if you see your end and don’t change your fate because of honor, or fear, or maybe just because you can’t see another road, you might as wel run al -out toward it.”

Reagan gulped down a sob. “What can we do?” Jeremiah shook his head. “I think that’s why he wanted to come here. To figure it out. To find another answer. He’s got a lot of pressure to go back on the road. Living up to his father’s reputation, having the whole town thinking he’s living their dream, knowing he might never get the money to have that ranch he’s always planned if he doesn’t ride.” Reagan knew her uncle was right as she watched Noah cuddling his broken arm and staring out into the night . . .

into nothing.

“If he weren’t brave and proud, it wouldn’t be such a choice.”

Reagan turned her face into her uncle’s worn flannel shirt and silently cried. “You’re wrong about him leaving.

You’re wrong.” She whispered the words, wanting to make them true. “He wants to go, he just doesn’t know when. He’s not afraid.”

He patted her shoulder. “I hope so, child. Lord, I hope so, but for some, young or old, when the death drum sounds there ain’t nothing to do but march to the beat.”

MARCH 11

DENVER DIDN’T MAKE IT BACK TO HARMONY FOR

ALMOST two weeks. He felt like he’d flown around the world and back. Part of his delay was work, but most, he admitted to himself, came because he didn’t like the possibility that his grand affair with Claire might be over. If her family al knew, it was only a matter of time before someone let it slip. He wasn’t sure what she’d do, but he had a feeling whatever happened wouldn’t be good.

Claire liked being a person of mystery. It was both part of the image as an artist and part of her personality.

She’d left one message on his phone about being tied up for a while. Saralynn was going through another surgery, minor this time, and Claire wanted to stay in rehab with her.

Denver talked to Gabe and was told the family held out little hope that Saralynn would ever walk on her own. They’d been through this a dozen times. New doctors, new hope, and never more than slight improvements. Claire was the only one who never gave up, and Saralynn . . . wel , for Saralynn, it was just a way of life. She never complained.

For the first time Denver realized that he wanted to be with Claire and Saralynn during this time. He wanted to hold Claire’s hand and make Saralynn laugh. Only he hadn’t been invited. Gabe checked in every few days, keeping him up on how Liz was coming along with the pregnancy and letting Denver know that Claire and Saralynn were back home.

A little after nine on Thursday morning, Denver cal ed Gabe as he drove from the airport to Harmony.

“I’m inbound,” Denver said simply when Gabe picked up the phone.

“Glad to hear you’re back. Liz went with her mother for a doctor checkup and then they planned to eat lunch over at Winter’s Inn.” Gabe sounded frustrated. “So I’m home worrying about her.”

Denver laughed. “Do you ever let her out of your sight?”

“No,” Gabe admitted. “Not if I can help it. She’s threatening to file charges on me for stalking. I tel you, some days it’s hel being married to a lawyer.”

“I’ve got to pick up some groceries.” Denver laughed at how pitiful Gabe sounded. “How about meeting me in an hour at Buffalo’s? We’l have some wings and beer and I’l catch up with what’s been going on in town.”

“Sure,” Gabe said. “That’s the one place in this town I know I won’t run into my wife or mother-in-law. Buffalo’s sounds a great deal better than the B&B.” He laughed. “Any other day I wouldn’t be too sure Martha Q wouldn’t be at Buffalo’s. Years ago she was the queen of that bar. They say she picked up more drunk cowboys there than the bouncer. Word was once they sobered up and didn’t run fast, she married them.”

“Surely not sweet little old Martha Q?” Denver used his best southern drawl.

“You haven’t been around here long.”

Denver didn’t argue. Two or three days home at a time was usual y al he got. This time he had until Monday. “Do you think Claire knows I’m home?” Somehow it felt good to be able to talk about her directly with Gabe.

“Sure. I mentioned it to Liz this morning and she’l tel her mother, who, of course, wil say something in front of Claire.” Gabe laughed. “I swear, Lieutenant, only women should be in the CIA. They got a network you wouldn’t believe. To give one example, Aunt Pat found out that Noah McAl en was hiding out over at the Truman place because he didn’t want his sister to know he got hurt again. Pat didn’t tel Alex because she knew the McAl ens were on the first real vacation they’d had in years and Alex was bound to cal and tel them. So Aunt Pat climbs in the cart when that nurse, Foster Garrison, comes over to the ranch house to start Saralynn’s exercises. She rides over to old Truman’s farm and says she’s there to help.”

“That was nice of her.” Denver was barely fol owing the story. Aunt Pat was a Matheson, and the Matheson ranch bordered the Truman farm.

“You don’t get it.” Gabe said. “Aunt Pat sent Jeremiah a Dear John letter in WWI and he hasn’t spoken to her since.

But Pat said it was her duty because Noah’s sister is a Matheson now, so she had to cross onto Truman land.

They’re like warring family. Old Aunt Pat crossed into hostile territory.”

“And . . .”

Gabe waited a moment, then said, “She hasn’t been back home and that was three days ago.”

Denver laughed. “Wel , either the old man kil ed her, or they’re shacking up. Do you think you could stop gossiping long enough to meet me for a beer?”

“I’d better. My brain is turning to oatmeal. I’ve been around too many women too long. I love my wife, but I miss those quiet days with just me, the dog, and a security system that kept everyone off my land.”

“Any idea if the twins are boys or girls?”

“Liz made the doctor swear not to tel us. She wants it to be a surprise, but I’m tel ing you if it’s girls I have a feeling I’l be re-enlisting about the time they learn to talk. With al the Matheson women around, I already feel like I’m sleeping in the enemy camp.”

Denver hung up, bought his groceries, then drove to Buffalo’s Bar. He’d just taken his first swal ow of beer when a tal woman dressed total y in white walked in. She was so out of place al three people in the bar stopped what they were doing and watched her cross the floor.

He tried not to move, but he couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across his face.

When she was a foot in front of him, she stopped, took his beer, and gulped half of it down without saying a word.

“Morning, Claire.” Denver tried to keep his voice low.

“Do you come here often?”

“I do when your car is parked out front.”

“Want to join me and your brother-in-law for lunch?”

“No. I’l be at your place in ten minutes. If you’re not there, I’l be gone in eleven.” She sat the bottle down and walked back out.

Denver threw a twenty toward the bartender. “You know Gabe Leary?”

“I know him.”

“Wel , I’m buying him a beer and wings when he comes in.”

“Who do I say it’s from?”

Denver grinned. “Tel him it’s from his friend who just went over to the enemy.”

He drove eighty al the way down Lone Oak Road.

When he reached his house, Claire was stepping out of her car. She’d parked at his front door so anyone driving down Lone Oak Road would notice her car.

She leaned against the hood of her car waiting for him.

When he reached her, he took her hand in his and tugged her toward the front door. “About time you came,” he said, more to himself than to her.

He pul ed her in front of him, pressing her back against the door frame as he unlocked his home and reached in to flip off the alarm. With one arm tightly around her waist, he lifted her inside and into his arms.

His hands slid beneath her white coat and moved across the silk of her blouse as he kissed her with al the bottled-up need he’d been saving for far too long.

As always, she hesitated, tried to pul away, break free.

But she’d come to him this time, and Denver wasn’t interested in playing games. As always, when he finished one long kiss, she’d melted into him.

He pul ed away and looked down at the one woman in the world he couldn’t seem to turn away from. “How long do you have?” he asked.

“Until I pick Saralynn up from school.”

“Good.” He smiled down at her. “I’m starving. I’l open a can of soup and we’l have lunch. I want to talk to you and then show you the house, one room at a time.” She tugged off her coat. “What do I do while you’re cooking?”

He smiled. “Take off your clothes.”

She pouted, and he knew she’d never be a woman who took orders. He walked outside, hardly noticing the cloudy day as he grabbed the bags of groceries. They needed to talk, to make plans. From the public display she’d made in Buffalo’s Bar, he guessed she was open to the idea of them becoming a couple. He liked the idea too.

When he walked back inside and closed the door, Claire wasn’t there. In the shadowy house, he didn’t see her for a moment, and then he saw her tal , slim silhouette against the long windows of the living room. With the low brooding clouds behind her and the earth tones of her surroundings, she looked more like a painting than a woman.

She was beautiful. And she was nude.

Denver forgot al about the soup and the tour of the house.

MARCH 12

BLUE MOON DINER

THE NEXT MORNING, DENVER WAITED IN THE

BLUE MOON Diner for Claire. A heavy March rain had kept many of the regulars away. He half expected her to stand him up. Yesterday they’d spent the afternoon making love and hadn’t said anything that needed to be said between them. He thought of how little he knew about her, and he couldn’t remember a single question she’d ever asked him.