- Home
- Cheryl St. John
Marry Me...Again Page 6
Marry Me...Again Read online
Page 6
At the ranch, he parked and stood gazing toward the eerie haze in the dark sky where the fires still burned. His stomach churned. If he’d eaten any supper, he would have thrown it up.
Dev was so absorbed, he didn’t hear Ash coming up beside him until he spoke. “Just came back from there to catch some sleep. It doesn’t look good. They’ve called in volunteers from all over.”
Ash was one of Rumor’s volunteer firemen, so of course he’d be in the thick of things. Dev changed the focus of his thinking to ask, “So what’s happening?”
“Did you read tonight’s edition of the Rumor Mill?”
“Nope.”
“Seems that Guy Cantrell is suspected of murdering his wife and her lover up there.” The cowboy offered him a can of beer.
“Thanks.” Dev popped the top and took a long swallow. “The gas station guy was her lover?”
“They have a witness who claims he knew the two were having an affair. Investigators found evidence near the bodies. Pieces of a shirt, a ripped piece of what looks like a canvas backpack, some broken glass and footprints.”
“Sounds like one of those crime investigator shows.”
“Yeah, and since the mayor married Chelsea Kearns, we have our very own forensics expert right here in Rumor. Evidence makes it look like Guy probably caught ’em together.”
“And this teacher is missing, right? You’d think he’d stick around and clear his name,” Dev commented.
“Sometimes saying you’re innocent doesn’t get you very far,” Ash commented.
Dev glanced at him. Ash was on parole for a crime he claimed to have been set up for. He’d done five years in prison and was about as cynical as a man could get about not only the system, but life in general. “Must be a terrible feeling to know no one believes you.”
Ash shrugged. “You live with it.”
Dev had to admire Ash for coming back to Montana to make a life for himself and make amends with his sister. His determination to prove himself came through in everything he did.
“It’s none of my business,” Ash said, “but I can’t help wondering what you’re doing staying at the ranch again.”
Dev leaned against the fender of his truck and crossed his ankles. Heat radiated from the engine, but didn’t warm the numb coldness inside. “I’m a screwup,” he said. “I missed a birthday party. And I said some really stupid things. For her it’s deeper than that. She’s—” He choked on the words and started over. “Brynna’s sorry she married me.”
“Doesn’t sound like anything you can’t fix.”
“Believe me, I would if I knew how.”
“What got you together in the first place?”
“Mind-blowing sex.”
Ash chuckled. “I was gonna suggest you try whatever it was you did to win her over, but if it was sex, that’s probably out of the question since you’re not sleeping there.”
“She’s not exactly receptive right now.”
“Well, if sex came first, maybe you need to try a little romance now.”
Dev studied the hired hand, thinking over his suggestion. “Maybe you’re right.”
Brynna threw herself into her work with the same determination she’d always relied upon. The demanding job at the hospital and her volunteer work at the clinic eased the pain of her loss and didn’t allow her time to think about Devlin. In theory anyway. That’s the way it would have been if fate hadn’t conspired against her at every turn.
One of her patients, Susannah Kingsley, had a morning appointment that Tuesday, and Brynna greeted her warmly and asked a few questions before examining her.
Several years prior, Susannah had experienced a tubal pregnancy, which had required the removal of an ovary and a fallopian tube. When she’d first come to Brynna after her marriage, seeking help in getting pregnant, Brynna had discovered an abnormality on her remaining fallopian tube. The young woman had been devastated, and Brynna had been skeptical that surgery would correct her infertility.
But after Susannah was dressed, Brynna let herself into the exam room and sat on a stool across from her. This was one of the most rewarding parts of her job. “Susannah, you’re pregnant.”
The young woman’s blue eyes filled with tears of joy, and she smiled the smile Brynna lived for: that of a mother seeing her child for the first time; the smile of a woman discovering she was expecting a much-wanted baby.
“Oh my gosh!” Susannah stood and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh!” She touched her stomach next. Reverently. “Is everything okay?”
Brynna was quick to reassure her. “You’re healthy as can be, and I don’t foresee any problems.”
Susannah positively glowed. “Mei is going to be a big sister!” she said in awe.
The year before, thinking they wouldn’t have children of their own, Susannah and her husband, Russell, had adopted a baby girl from China. “Thank you, Dr. Holmes! Thank you so much!”
She gave Brynna an impulsive hug.
Brynna laughed. “Well, I may have helped a little, but you and Russell did all the work.”
“No. We couldn’t have had this baby without you. He’s going to be so happy. I’m so happy!” She picked up her purse and straightened her long red hair in the tiny mirror on the wall. “I can’t wait to tell him.”
“Congratulations, Susannah.”
Susannah’s expression changed immediately. She met Brynna’s gaze in the mirror. Her smile waned and her eyes widened. She turned and gave Brynna an apologetic look. “Oh, how thoughtless of me to carry on like that.”
Brynna knew immediately that Susannah had heard the news of Brynna’s miscarriage through the grapevine. “Not at all,” she assured her. “You have every reason to be happy. I’m very happy for you.”
“Well,” Susannah continued, obviously wanting to express her sympathy, “I’m sorry about what happened with you. I know how it is to want a baby.”
“I know you do. Thank you,” Brynna said simply.
Susannah hugged her again and swept out of the examining room.
Brynna groped for the seat of the stool and sat. Grief pressed upon her chest, making it hard to breathe, to think. She rubbed her temple, where an ache had started. This was one of those crowning moments of her career, one of the days she worked for—the reason she’d gone to medical school. But her own situation wouldn’t allow her to appreciate it as she should have.
Brynna made it through the rest of the day by tuning out her own feelings and personal life and concentrating on her patients. At midday a bouquet arrived, a dozen long-stemmed red roses with a note that read simply I love you. Brynna arranged the flowers in a vase on the admissions desk and tucked the card into a pocket in her trousers.
When her shift was over, she drove to the clinic and put in another four hours. It was nine o’clock in the evening before she admitted she was avoiding going home to an empty house. When she stopped thinking about her patients, she was reminded of the child she’d lost…of the family she wanted. At the house, she undressed, pulling the gift card from her pocket. She studied Dev’s handwriting, neat and crisp.
Her gaze moved to the unmade bed, no longer plain and uninviting; after their marriage, she and Dev had purchased a king-size bed with rich linens, a downy comforter and plump pillows, a perfect love nest.
A perfect empty love nest.
No longer able to hold back the devastating feelings of loss and disappointment and uncertainty, she staggered to the edge of the bed and let the tears fall.
Everything and every moment reminded her of the husband who hadn’t shared her dreams. And each breath reinforced the fact that she was facing a future without him.
Chapter Nine
By Friday Dev had sent flowers, chocolates, a gold bracelet and perfume. The deliveries were becoming the talk of the hospital staff, and rumors had spread through town.
That evening Dev found lights on at the house, so he parked in the drive and rang the bell.
Brynna open
ed the door, looking pale and tired. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said.
Children’s voices chirped from inside somewhere. He glanced behind her. “You have company?”
Just then John and Chandler burst around a corner and spotted him in the doorway. “Unca Dev!” Chandler shouted, barreling forward and John was right behind him.
“Hey, fellas!” Dev stepped in and Brynna closed the door behind him.
“Aunt Brynn said you was busy,” John said.
“I worked at the ranch today,” he replied, kneeling for their unreserved hugs. “What are you up to?”
“We’re havin’ a sleepover,” John supplied. “Cool, huh?”
“Play Wescue Wangers with us,” Chandler said in his determined manner and took Dev’s hand, pulling him toward the family room.
Dev and Brynna exchanged a glance, and he gave her a penitent smile. “Rescue Rangers, eh? Who are we rescuing?”
“We’re firemans,” John told him. “We’re putting out the tree fires, like on TV.”
Dev joined the boys on the floor with the action figures and soon had a noisy rescue mission under way. She watched them for a few minutes, appreciating Dev’s easy interaction with the children, and his genuine interest in them. They had accepted him into the family and given him an honored position of favored uncle, right beside Kurt and Tuck.
Brynna picked up discarded shoes, socks and the less fascinating toys, then took a few minutes to wash the supper dishes and get an evening snack ready. When she returned to the family room, Dev had become a tiger on his hands and knees and was snarling and growling while John and Chandler shrieked and ran past her into the other room.
Still in character, Dev pursued, and, minutes later, she could hear them upstairs, running and laughing. Brynna set the room to rights, replacing sofa cushions and pillows and getting a movie ready to watch.
Laughter grew near again, feet pounded on the stairs, and the boys were back, panting. “Where’s Uncle Dev?”
“Not in here.”
They tore back out of the room.
“Be careful on those stairs!” Curiously amused, she grabbed Dev’s video camera out of the closet and followed.
Her barefoot nephews crept up the steps as quietly as a four- and a six-year-old could, and their excitement laced with hesitation made her smile as she videotaped their apprehensive search. John led the way, Chandler at his heels, as they tentatively peered into every room. Chandler made a point of turning on each wall switch and flooding the rooms with light before they entered.
Just as they were tiptoeing toward the bathroom, the door to the hall closet burst open and Dev shot out on his hands and knees, growling.
Chandler shrieked and ran toward Brynna, his blue eyes round as moons. Brynna balanced the camera, while still trying to tape and not fall over. John jumped on Dev’s back and wrestled him with an arm around Dev’s throat. Dev pretended to choke and fell on the carpeted floor.
Brynna held Chandler close and felt his little heart racing against her palm. A second later, he jumped away and joined the fray on the floor. Dev laughed so hard, his face was red, and Brynna didn’t know if the color was caused by his amusement or the choke hold John had around his neck.
She couldn’t help laughing at their antics, especially remembering the look on Chandler’s face when Dev had lunged out of that closet. She laughed until tears ran from her eyes, and she had to wipe them away to see through the viewfinder. She could probably send this footage to America’s Funniest Home Videos and win the grand prize.
Dev rolled over, both boys still glued to his shoulders. “Look there, it’s Auntie Tiger. I think she has a snack ready for us. I’m hungry, how about you?”
John jumped to his feet and darted off, with Chandler following him down the stairs. Dev stood and held out a hand to Brynna where she sat, the camera in her lap. “Come on Auntie Tiger.”
She took his hand and let him help her up before preceding him down the stairs. After assigning the boys seats around the coffee table, she gave them quartered sandwiches and slices of fruit and handed Dev a plate with a sandwich.
Chandler gulped his chocolate milk and burped. “’Scuse me.”
John laughed and Dev grinned.
Chandler burped again. “My heart just keeps burping,” he explained, one hand on the front of his T-shirt.
Dev cracked up at that, and before long, the three of them were holding a burping contest.
Brynna watched with amusement, then started their movie. “Let’s get them settled down, so they won’t be too wound up to sleep.”
Dev nodded. “Can I help put them to bed?”
She studied him briefly. “Sure.”
“How did you get so lucky?” he asked. The boys had already become engrossed in Stuart Little’s adventures. “Getting them for the night, I mean.”
“Frank and Melanie needed some time together. Alone. I offered.”
He placed the dishes and cups on a tray. “That was nice of you. They doing okay?”
“I’ll do those,” she said, reaching for the tray. “They’re working out a few things.”
“I don’t mind.” He moved the platter away from her reach and carried it toward the kitchen. She followed.
Dev rinsed the cups and put the tray away. He knew where everything went—it was his house, after all.
“I’ll sit with them if you have anything you need to do,” he offered.
She shook her head. “I don’t. How about you? You didn’t have any plans for tonight?”
“I planned to come see you.”
She didn’t say anything, just leaned back against the counter and glanced out the kitchen window into the darkness.
“You got the gifts?” he asked, and nodded toward the bracelet on her wrist.
She moved her arm and studied the delicate piece of gold jewelry. “Yes. They’re all lovely, thank you. But you don’t have to give me presents.”
“You’re my wife. You won’t let me be here. You won’t let me…share things with you the way I’d like to. I just wanted you to know I care…that I’m thinking about you. That I love you.”
Brynna closed her eyes momentarily, ineffectively shutting out his words. A warm touch on her shoulder surprised her, and the sensation rippled down her spine. She opened her eyes to find him in front of her. He slid his hand to her forearm, the sensation waking nerve endings and feelings alike. “How are you? Really?” he asked, concern in his voice, his eyes.
She was so needy for comfort, for release from the grief and regret and even anger she’d bottled up inside, that his concern was like setting a match to a fuse. His gentle familiar touch opened up every wound she’d unsuccessfully tried to close, tore down defenses she’d methodically constructed and maintained for days.
The simple tactile display opened a floodgate of emotion. She wanted to tell him about Susannah. About how she felt and how much she hurt.
“Aunt Brynn, do you got any of those little fish crackers?” Chandler asked from the doorway.
Glad for the interruption, Brynna moved away from Dev’s touch. What good would it do to voice those feelings? “I think I have a bag up here,” she said, opening a cupboard. “Does John want some, too?”
She carried their crackers to them, refilled their cups and settled down to join them for the end of the movie. Devlin sat at the opposite end of the sofa, where Chandler eventually crept into his lap. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the scene: Chandler’s chubby limbs and bare feet against Dev’s long jean-clad legs; the child’s relaxed fingers on the man’s strong tanned arm; the trusting child and the ease with which Dev accommodated him.
Obviously, it wasn’t children in general that Dev had an aversion to. Did babies intimidate him? Or just the thought of being a parent and having to care for a child daily for the next eighteen or so years? With these kids he could have fun and then they went home.
When the show ended, Brynna ushered the boys upstairs and supervised thei
r change into pajamas and the brushing of teeth.
“We didn’t bring no books,” Chandler said, a furrow between his eyebrows as Brynna was tucking them into the guest room bed. “We need a bedtime story.”
“I’ll tell you one,” Dev said. “We don’t need a book for one of my stories. You just make the pictures up in your head.” He settled on the side of the mattress and began a tale.
Brynna stretched out on her stomach across the foot of the bed and watched the boys’ faces as Dev regaled them with a story about a tiger who wanted to play baseball.
He had always enjoyed her nephews, and they adored him, as much as they adored Brynna’s brothers. Seeing him with them like this, she couldn’t help but admire his exuberance and playful spirit. Maybe he would have made a wonderful father. Maybe she had misjudged him—and maybe he’d misjudged himself.
Chandler fell asleep first, followed only minutes later by his brother. Dev tucked them in and left the room while Brynna picked up clothing and turned out the light. She found him in their bedroom.
“I’m missing a watch,” he said. “I think I left it in one of these drawers.” Finding it, he turned to where she stood in the doorway.
The look on his face showed he wasn’t thinking of that watch. What did he see when he looked at her? He placed the timepiece on top of the dresser and walked toward her.
Chapter Ten
Brynna looked away, so Dev wouldn’t see the need his presence had wrenched up from the center of her being. She didn’t want to be needy. She was the strong one, the person who took care of others and herself without help.
“Brynn, I miss you,” he said gruffly. “All the things I thought meant something, don’t mean anything without you. You’re it. My foundation. I didn’t even know it until…”
He threaded his fingers into her hair and placed his other palm along her jaw, bringing them so close she could see the brown flecks in his green eyes. “This thing we have is the one thing that means something in my life. I’m scared that I can’t fix it.”