To Wear His Ring (35 page)

Focus, she told herself. Find out about the envelope. That’s all you need to know.

“Chase is very successful,” she said. “His father has to be pleased with all he’s accomplished.” Her nose wrinkled. How pat did that sound?

Nick didn’t seem to notice that she’d turned into the mother on “Leave It To Beaver.” He shook his head. “I don’t think Lloyd has ever given Chase the thumbs-up. In college, Chase said he wanted to be an ‘in-the-mud, get-the-story journalist,’ that he wanted to report the news, not become it.”

Nettie gritted her teeth. She was caught, like a fish who’d seen the hook, but couldn’t resist the bait. “What happened?”

“The more Chase pulled, the harder Lloyd pushed. Chase was offered jobs no struggling young journalist could possibly refuse. He thought he was getting them solely on his own merit—that’s why he took his mother’s name—and he didn’t find out until later that Lloyd was pulling strings. Lloyd directed the spotlight on Chase every way he could and when an anchor position came up, he expected Chase to sit right down and say, ‘Thank you.’”

“Chase didn’t?”

Nick shook his head. “And Lloyd barely spoke to him for the next two years. Nothing Chase did was good enough.”

Two years. Holidays flashed immediately to mind. Nettie
couldn’t imagine being without one’s family by choice, or because you were trying to punish someone. She’d never, ever been alone for the holidays, and a part of her didn’t even want to ask, “What about the rest of his family?”

Nick’s shrug was eloquent. “He has a half sister who travels—he rarely sees her. His mother he sees once every couple of years when he arranges to be in the same city she’s in. Chase tells it all with a lot of humor, but it’s part of who he’s become, Nettie.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Nick clasped his hands atop the kitchen table. “Chase gets a lot of attention, but he’s a private man. I don’t enjoy betraying his confidence, but if you’re dead set on a relationship with him…” The low slash of Nick’s brow told her how he still felt about that. “You need to know that he doesn’t stay in one place because he doesn’t
want
attachments. If he ever did decide to settle down—” after a brief struggle with guilt, Nick spoke with firm conviction “—I don’t think he’d be good at it.”

This was the point, Nettie knew, at which she was supposed to remind the world once again that she was
not
in the market for settling down. But that’s not what came to mind. What came to mind was how blasted unfair it was for other people to take what they knew about you—a bunch of cheap facts—and then pigeonhole you for the rest of your life. What came to mind was that, despite everything she’d told herself, Nick was wrong about Chase.

“Chase is honest and caring, and he’s kind.” The words spilled out with equal measures of confidence and indignation. “If he decides that putting down roots is what he wants, then I say he’ll be great at it!”

Pushing away from the table, she stood. She realized she hadn’t achieved her objective this afternoon, but at the moment, she couldn’t quite recover the reason she’d thought the envelope and its contents were so bloody important. She would see Chase again, regardless.

She had to.

Nettie’s legs wobbled as she excused herself to use the bathroom. She wanted to splash some cold water on her face and collect her thoughts. Attempting to appear far more poised than she felt, she straightened her spine and moved toward the swinging
door between the kitchen and living rooms. She walked swiftly and pushed firmly, startled by a loud thud and sharp cry on the other side of the door.

Nettie poked her head through the door. “Sara!”

Behind her, Nick scraped his chair across the linoleum and repeated her exclamation.

Sara walked sheepishly through the door, a hand over her eye.

“What were you doing?”

Sara looked at her sister through her good eye and shrugged.

“She was listening at the door. Weren’t you?” Nick growled. “When did you sneak in here? With that kind of stealth, you’d make a better criminal than sheriff.”

Sara rallied under Nick’s censure. “I didn’t have to sneak. This is my house.”

“No, you didn’t have to sneak,” Nick agreed, “but you did.” He stalked forward. “What are you up to?”

Sara’s expression spoke volumes as she glanced between Nettie and Nick. “Seems to me there’s been a lot of sneaking going on around here.” She stabbed a finger between the two of them. “You’ve been seeing that reporter guy and everybody—” she glared at Nick “—knew about it but me. How do you think that makes me feel? I thought…” She faltered.

Nettie put her hands on her hips. The skin around Sara’s injured eye was starting to bruise, but she refused to let herself feel guilty or try to fix it. For once, she was putting her own life first. “You thought what?” she demanded.

Sara’s cheeks turned red. She had trouble, suddenly, meeting Nettie’s gaze and couldn’t look at Nick at all. Her hands went to the back of her uniform, where she fiddled with her belt. “I thought…uh…” Unable to defend her eavesdropping, she returned to the offensive, where she was clearly more comfortable. “You’ve been so secretive lately, I didn’t know what to think. And now that I know you’ve got yourself stuck on the pretty boy, I see I was right to be concerned.” Her freckled nose lifted an inch. “For once I agree with Nick.”

“How reassuring,” Nick murmured. “I may rescind my warning.”

“I don’t want warnings,” Nettie interjected before Sara could strike back. “And I’m not interested in an opinion—from either of you.” Splitting her gaze between the people she’d known all
her life, Nettie said, “I know you think you’re trying to help. But people change. Their desires change, their beliefs change. All you know about me is what you
think
you know about me. You have no idea what I really want.”

A car pulled up in front of the house. Nick and Sara were too busy staring at Nettie to react to the sound or to the open and slam of the car door, but she crossed immediately to the window above the kitchen sink. Already, she recognized the sound of that engine, and her body reacted before her mind. Chase. Through the open window, she saw him head toward the front door. “Stay there! I’ll be right out,” Nettie called through the kitchen window.

Momentarily startled, Chase stopped, located her and then nodded. He looked different. Slightly uncertain. Less perfect, more human. Her heart responded instantly. She sent him a reassuring smile because she thought he needed it, and almost immediately his features relaxed. She didn’t even bother with her purse or to offer a word to the two people who watched her in silence.

I’m choosing, she thought, facing them once, briefly. I’m choosing me. I’m choosing Chase. Over you, over your opinions of what’s good for me. Damn the torpedoes, and if you don’t like it, lump it!

As tremulous, as thrilled as if she were sitting at the top peak of a roller coaster, Nettie flew out the back door and around the front of the house, where Chase stood waiting.

“Let’s go for a drive,” she said, as breathless as a teenage girl about to sneak off with a forbidden love.

Bemused but agreeable, Chase moved without a word to open the passenger-side door.

Nettie glanced at the kitchen window. Sara and Nick stood side by side, peering through the glass like two old biddies. Following an impulse stronger than reason, Nettie reared back, gave Chase a swift, solid kiss somewhere between his mouth and his cheek and got into the car.

Now there were three people staring at her in varying degrees of surprise.

C
lover fields waved before Chase like a verdant carpet, more brilliantly green than he would have supposed before arriving in North Dakota. Studded with wild mustard, the landscape looked like a impressionist painting, composed of an infinitude of tiny green and yellow strokes.

Chase inhaled deeply, having to remind himself that mere days ago he had envisioned the area as dry, if not barren then certainly brown and unappealing.

Days ago. He shook his head. How had so many things changed in such a brief span of time?

A few yards behind him, Nettie stood beneath a squat tree. They had spoken little on the drive here. He had something to tell her—two things—and his reluctance to begin amazed him.

Swiping at the perspiration that popped out along his upper lip, Chase endeavored to convince himself it was the heat and not his thoughts that elicited the moisture. The erratic pumping of his heart, however, told a different story.

Through experience, he had come to believe he could usually get what he wanted. He believed in the bulldogged pursuit of a
goal, but also in matching a goal to one’s capabilities. Now he had the unfamiliar feeling he was in over his head.

Moving toward Nettie, he watched the corners of her mouth turn up. With her back against the tree, she stared at the vista behind him.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” she said. “Chicago was so big and fascinating. I was never bored there, but it’s the kind of place that happens to you. Know what I mean? All you have to do is stand still and there are a million things to see or do. North Dakota is much, much subtler. You have to look with a more patient eye, interact with her, seek her beauty. Then she can be a wonderful place.”

Chase nodded, swallowed and tried to breathe through the tension gathering in his chest. “You lived in Chicago?”

“For a few years. I went to college there.”

“College,” he murmured. “Not so long ago for you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Seems like forever.”

Chase smiled. He’d never asked her age, but guessed her to be in her mid-twenties. “Yeah, you’re ancient. What did you get your degree in?”

“I don’t have one.” She shrugged, smiled as if to say
no big deal
, but she seemed awkward suddenly, her cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t graduate. You know how kids are.”

“Mm.”
Not really
, he thought, but because he saw her discomfort, he didn’t pursue it. Career had always meant everything to him and college had been a stepping-stone. It had never occurred to him to let anything get in his way. At least, not for long. Personal goals were another matter, however, largely because he’d never had any. Until now.

More perspiration beaded along his upper back and chest. He gestured toward the shaded spot where she stood. “Let’s sit down. Do you mind?”

Nettie shook her head and settled herself on a carpet of grass a short distance from the gnarled roots of the tree. Chase hesitated a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to sit beside her or face her head-on.

Irritated by the immediate surge of sick tension that threatened to destroy his stomach lining before the day was through, he sat opposite her.
Head-on. Head-on and get to the point.

Nettie toyed with the grass. Her long hair was loose, spilling
casually over her shoulders as she plucked a green blade and looked up at him. The light breeze and the shade from the tree cooled some of the heat inside Chase, eliciting a brief gratitude as he forced himself to begin.

His reputed silver tongue felt more like brass.

“I have no idea how to start,” he admitted, trying candor on for size.

Nettie exhaled. “Sounds ominous already.”

“I hope not. I hope…” Dragging a hand over his cheeks and jaw, Chase shook his head.
Oh, man.
He looked at her, telling himself he would replace the trepidation he saw with something better.
He hoped.

“About this morning…I acted like an idiot, and I’m sorry.”

She frowned. “When?”

“When?”

“Yes. Do you mean when we kissed or when you left?” Clearly embarrassed by her own question, she nonetheless held her ground. “Because if you’re talking about the kiss,” she shook her head, lips thinning to a firm line while her eyes filled with fire, “don’t you dare. I thought it was wonderful!” Her mouth rounded to a surprised
O
as a thought struck. “You didn’t think it was wonderful?” Pressing fingertips to her forehead, she cringed. “I knew it! I kiss like a fish!”

“What?”

She tossed the blade of grass and flapped her hand in a gesture of surrender. “I know. I’m just…not that…Ohhh! I wanted to appear sophisticated, so I haven’t said anything, but the truth is I’m not very experienced. Sexually speaking.”

Chase endeavored to appear far more surprised than he felt, and a whole lot less pleased. “I never would have guessed.”

She started to say something else, but stopped, shifting gears. “Really?”

He nodded. “Where does the fish come in?”

“Well.” She raised both hands this time, letting them slap against her jeans-clad thighs. “I’ve never kissed me, so I’m only guessing, but if you’re sorry—”

“Hold on, I’m not sorry we kissed. I’m not sorry about anything we did. It was great. I’m only sorry I ran out on you.”

“You’re not? You are? It was?”

“Hell, no! And, yes. Of course. Nettie,” he reached for her
hand, but told himself he’d never get through this if he was actually touching her, so he pulled back to rake his fingers through his hair. “Kissing you was one of the sweetest experiences of my life. Don’t make a face,” he laughed when her smile fell on the word
sweet.
Matter-of-factly he told her, “I’ve been pretty short on sweet experiences. Nobody,” he leaned forward to caress her with his eyes, which felt far safer than any other manner of touch, “but
nobody
would ever accuse you of kissing like a fish.”

She leaned forward, too, her smile nearly killing him with its innocence and its pleasure. “I’m glad.”

“Nettie.” He cleared his throat, determined to stay on course. “I’m usually a man of my word, but this time I’m going to break it. When we agreed to a fling…” Feeling his jaw tighten even as he said the word, Chase slowly shook his head. “That was a bad idea.”

Nettie’s brows dipped. He could see her swallow. “Was it?”

Chase began to smile. “Oh, yeah. Very bad. I think we should renegotiate.”

He loved the way surprise entered her expression, the way it evolved slowly but surely to expectation. “Will I need a lawyer?” she asked.

“Nah.” Grinning now, so entranced by her reaction that the cannonball of tension in his chest began to melt, Chase said, “We can work it out ourselves, keep it simple. Keep it,” he took a breath, watching her closely, “open-ended. What do you think?”

It was the only time he’d said anything remotely like that to a woman. The words had barely hit the air before his heart began to carom like a pinball against his ribs. Quickly, silently, ferociously he fought every doubt that clawed at him. Not a one of them had to do with her, anyway. They were all about him.

Her expression became a dance of emotion, and the one he sought was the last to come: pleasure. Unfortunately fear followed swiftly behind.

Okay, he could handle that. He was scared, too.

Nettie’s insides tingled like a blanket filled with static electricity. She had not anticipated this moment. How could she? He was supposed to be leaving. She hadn’t even imagined his wanting to be with her beyond his stay here.

Liar.
She’d started imagining it when Nick was telling her who Chase was.

Liar, liar.
She’d been imagining it since he’d thrown the first stone at her window. Fantasies had flown in and out of her mind since she’d stood barefoot and blissful with him on her side lawn. Simple fantasies…

Like dancing in the city—she wasn’t even sure which city—but somewhere that glittered, somewhere the night was as bright as the day.

And Chase laughing with her as they rode bikes down to Ernie’s for the last of the summer’s chokecherry pie.

And then she’d imagined the two of them ensconced in the oldest cliché in the book: lying on a rug before a crackling fire, with winter howling outside…They hadn’t even been in Kalamoose in that scenario. She’d pictured a penthouse overlooking sparkling lights.

It was ridiculous. She couldn’t do those things, hadn’t been to the city in years and never danced anymore.

Then again, before Chase had come to town, she hadn’t driven a car in years, either. She hadn’t stood up for herself so thoroughly or spent hours laughing, not thinking about anything serious at all.

Before Chase had come to town, she’d been asleep. Now the prince who had kissed her awake didn’t want the fairytale to end. Not yet, anyway.

Suddenly Nettie had no desire to deny the sheer gladness that bubbled inside her.

“Are you planning to stay in town, then?” she asked Chase, amazed when she caught herself thinking, If he says he has to leave and wants me to meet him somewhere, I will. I don’t know how, yet, but I’ll do it!

She braced herself, almost exhilarated, as she waited for him to say,
I’m flying to Bora Bora in the morning. The envelope I received held instructions regarding my next assignment. Ever been to Bora Bora?

Instead he arched a brow. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

Shamelessly relishing the power he’d just handed her, Nettie affected a frown. “Hmm. Well, if you need an answer now, let me think…”

Glorious male pride sparked a flash of protest in Chase’s eyes. Impulsively, she sprang to her knees and flung out her arms, catching him round the neck. “Yes. The answer is yes!” She grinned, basking in the surprise and the relief she saw in his answering smile.

Chase clasped her upper arms and pressed her into the grass. “Tease,” he growled, letting the rebuke linger as he took the kiss she offered.

He kissed her in a kind of lover’s Morse code: long-shortshort-very long, each kiss a comment. She could drive him mad with a look, and he loved it. His lips told her so.

With her eyes closed she smiled like a cat full of cream, and Chase knew, he knew in that moment, that he wanted to tell her everything. Here, at last, was a woman he felt he
could
tell. Not just about Colin—his
son
—but about how damn humiliatingly terrified he had been when he’d opened that envelope.

For almost three weeks he hadn’t known how he would feel or what he would do if the paternity tests proved he had a sevenyear-old son. He’d thought that, quite possibly, he might want to run. Not from the financial responsibility, certainly, but from the emotional commitment. What did he know about emotional commitment? He wasn’t sure he could define the term, except to say it was the opposite of everything he knew.

Gently, with a touch he hadn’t realized he possessed, he traced an invisible
I
over Nettie’s face, across her forehead, down the bridge of her nose and along her lips. Her skin was milky and translucent, but between her brows he saw two small worry lines. She was gentle. She was strong. She was authentic. There didn’t seem to be a harsh or critical bone in her body. To her and only to her, could he imagine confessing the truth he hated admitting even to himself: He was thirty-four years old, and he didn’t think he’d ever loved anyone.

At the farmhouse he had sat on the edge of his bed in Nick’s guest room, the door locked, and he’d stared hard at the sheet of paper stating definitively that there was a child in the world with Chase’s blood coursing through his veins. Amazingly, Chase hadn’t wanted to run—thank God—but he hadn’t felt anything a human being might term love, either. He’d felt clammy and cold and so inadequate it had made him nauseous. Then he’d thought of Nettie and without trying, his muscles had relaxed.
Her smile had filled his mind and suddenly his body had warmed.

He’d sat there alone, his thoughts disordered, and finally it had come to him that he was shaking not because he wanted to run away from something, but because he wanted to move toward it.

He had a son. And, for the first time, a woman in his life he would rather spend his time talking to than trying to charm.

Moving so that his shadow fell across Nettie’s face, he plucked a blade of tall grass and traced the path his fingers had taken. The feathery touch tickled, and she opened her eyes.

“Keep them closed,” he whispered, moving the blade of grass tenderly over her skin. “I have something else to tell you. I should have told you before, but I was…” Sighing, he settled onto his elbow. “I’ve been pretty confused, Nettie Owens, and I don’t like being confused.”

To Nettie, the last line sounded more like a growl than a spoken statement. She suspected this conversation ought to be pursued with eyes open, but decided this was one of those Men-Are-from-Mars moments and let him have his way.

Keeping her eyes closed and her tone neutral, she asked, “What’s confusing you?”

After a brief pause, through which she remained carefully still, he responded, “The difference between what I want and what I thought I wanted. Ever been there?”

Nettie laughed. “Been there? I own property on that block.”

Even with her eyes closed, she could feel his smile and the slow wag of his head. “I’m a new resident. Career hasn’t been my top priority, Nettie, it’s been my only priority. The whole idea of kids, the white picket fence route—that left me pretty cold.” The blade of grass had stopped its patterning. “I have a sister who’s been married three times, and she just turned thirty. She’s on a world cruise right now with Husband Number Three’s money. I never did meet the guy. I think his name is Chuck.”

Resting his arm along his side, Chase let his gaze drift to the tree as he continued.

“I haven’t done much better in terms of relationships. The only difference is I haven’t tried as hard. I figured I’d concentrate on what I was good at and told myself there was a certain
honor in sparing the world another screwed-up family. But as it turns out…”

Here, he thought, comes the hard part. Feelings he had no idea how to define poured into his voice when he said, “As it turns out, I’m going to get a crack at raising a family, after all.”