The Farmer's Wife Read online

  “Of course.”

  For her it had been exciting to hide and sneak. She’d been such a child.

  However, she could also recall never wanting to let him go, clinging, getting a lump in her throat every time they said goodbye and waiting for the day they could make love in a bed and then sleep in each other’s arms all night long. But that day had never come.

  “No hiding anymore,” he murmured. “No sneaking tonight. Be with me. Touch me. Please?”

  The day that had never come was suddenly here. Needing to be free of every restriction, real and imagined, Kim reached up and removed the band from her hair, ran her fingers through the braid, let the tresses flow freely down her back.

  He smiled as if he understood her need. Knowing Brian, he did. “I’ve wanted you here, in this bed, for so long. I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and you’ll be gone.”

  “I’m real, Brian.” She crossed the room, reached out and ran her fingers over his hard, smooth chest. “See?”

  “Take off your clothes.”

  She snatched her hand back. “What?”

  “I can’t. And . . . I’ve never seen you without them.” Her cheeks heated. Furtive couplings in cars, barns, corners. What had they been thinking?

  That they were in love and they had to have each other or die.

  She did as he asked, unbuttoning her blouse, letting it slide to the floor. His eyes heated from silver back to blue again. He crossed his casts over his chest and continued to watch as every stitch of her clothing joined the blouse.

  Her embarrassment faded. She wanted him to look at her. She wanted him to see. She wanted them to have everything they’d never had before.

  His gaze traveled from her head to her feet, leaving heat in its wake. Steam along chilled skin, feathery touches in the night, both mist and magic. He said nothing, merely stood, hooked his thumbs in his sweatpants and dropped them to the floor.

  She had never seen all of him, either. Brian was a beautiful man—tall and firm, with ridges in all the right places, hard, yet somehow soft. Enticing, but dangerous, too.

  Her skin tingled with the desire to press her body against all that long, strong muscle. When he beckoned, she joined him on the bed where he’d had so many youthful dreams.

  His fingertips stroked her face; he tried to touch her hair and got it snagged at a rough spot on the cast. His curse destroyed a bit of the romance, but nothing could destroy the need she had to be with him.

  “Hush. She untangled her hair, pressed her fingers to his lips. “Lie back.”

  He did what she asked. When she straddled him his eyes widened; when she took his hands and held them firmly to the mattress on each side of his head he raised a brow, but he didn’t argue. What man would?

  She kissed him everywhere she had ever wanted to, until the languid tension in his body had peaked to quivering need. Then she lifted her mouth a fraction and breathed, “Don’t touch.”

  His lips curved in acquiescence as he brought them back to hers. Freely she took—his mouth, his skin, his soul. Freely he gave—his kiss, his body, his heart.

  She never let him touch her at all. She took care of everything. Still, he consumed her; he surrounded and filled her, and the power of that made her weak.

  Weak enough to let him touch the emptiness, to make the pain go away in a moment of such wonder and unity she was left shaking and stunned.

  “Stay,” he whispered. “Marry me.”

  And the temptation was so great she knew the time had come for her to go.

  Because she was weak, Kim remained with him all night. She touched him every way that she wanted, let him touch her every way that he’d dreamed.

  Each time he tried to talk, she distracted him. It wasn’t difficult. They were both starved for the fulfillment they’d only found with each other.

  She was terrified by her need to stay, by the depth of her desire to be his wife. But marriage meant truth, and she could not give him that, along with the children he deserved.

  She was a liar and a coward, but that was no news to her.

  However, it would be news to Brian, and she couldn’t bear to see his face if he ever learned what she had done.

  Brian awoke to the warmth of the sun on his face and the cool of an empty bed at his back. And he didn’t suspect a thing.

  Not even when Precious jumped onto the bed and deposited a mouse on his chest. The frightened rodent stared into Brian’s eyes, trapped between human and feline.

  Memories flickered. He’d seen that look before, and it hadn’t been in the eyes of a mouse.

  Brian shook off the odd thought and grabbed Precious by the scruff of the neck. Her affronted squall brought her little present out of its trance, and the animal leaped to the floor and scurried out the door.

  Brian waited for a bang and a shriek from downstairs. When none came, he frowned. “Where’s Mommy, Precious?”

  A trickle of unease began at the base of his spine. Why was Precious bringing mice to him if Kim was around? He let the kitten go and got up.

  After retrieving his sweatpants, he yanked them on and strolled across the hall. His shirt still lay on the floor near the window, so he scooped it up and put that on, too. The silence was starting to bug him.

  Since Kim had left her clothes in the spare bedroom, though she slept up here, the emptiness of his parents’ room wasn’t the problem. But something was.

  He went downstairs. His steps picked up speed as each room proved empty. He burst into the spare bedroom and knew immediately that she was gone. But how gone was she?

  A quick search revealed the truth—no clothes, no suitcase, no Kim. He sat heavily on the bed. Precious dropped the same mouse on his foot. Absently he grabbed the kitten and held on while he flipped the mouse off and let it escape one more time. Then he held Kim’s cat, which now appeared to be his, and let his mind whirl.

  No note. No goodbye. Why was he surprised? This was Kim. Had he really expected her to stay?

  Yes, dammit. He loved her; she loved him. What was so insulting about asking her to marry him that every single time he did it, she disappeared?

  Lost, aching, furious, he walked in circles. He didn’t know what to do. Should he stay or should he go? Chase her down or let her be?

  The sound of a car door had him sprinting for the front of the house, foolish hope lighting his heart until he ran smack into Dean on the porch. Precious squalled and leaped from his arms, her back claws screeching along his cast like a buzz saw.

  “So the princess ran off again.”

  “How did you know?”

  “She called Mom and Dad from the airport this time.”

  Airport? It wasn’t until the dizziness washed over him that he’d realized he’d continued to hope she’d only run as far as her mother.

  “I take it from your face she didn’t bother to tell you.”

  Brian didn’t answer and Dean nodded smugly.

  “She lasted longer than I thought. But I knew she couldn’t hack it.” Dean peered into Brian’s face. “You didn’t do anything stupid like fall in love with her again, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s something.”

  “I didn’t have to fall—I was there all along.”

  Dean cursed. “Are you crazy? How can you love someone who walked out on you? She thinks she’s too good for you.” Dean swept his arm out to indicate the farm. “Too good for this.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Did you forget that she left you behind without a goodbye? Twice? Bright lights, big city, anywhere but here.”

  “That’s not what happened.”

  “She was a selfish, spoiled brat. That hasn’t changed.”

  Brian couldn’t lie anymore. “It wasn’t Kim’s fault. If anyone was selfish it was me.”

  Dean snorted. “You keep saying that, but you don’t have to protect her anymore. I didn’t believe you then, and I don’t believe you now.”

  “I got her pr
egnant, Dean.”

  Silence fell over the early morning. Ba came around the corner of the house, took one look at the two of them staring at each other and scuttled in the other direction. Precious was right behind her.

  Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Run that by me again.”

  “I promised I wouldn’t tell. Never. No one.” He shrugged. “Still, I should have told you. Especially when you got so angry at her. But I was selfish. I wanted you to be angry along with me. So if you want to hate someone, hate me, Dean. I deserve it.”

  “You deserve something, that’s for sure.” Dean rubbed his forehead in a gesture that was so like Kim Brian ached even more. “You let me believe she walked out and crushed you for no reason but selfishness.” He frowned and glared at Brian suspiciously. “If Kimmy was pregnant, where’s the baby?”

  “Remember when we ran away?”

  “How could I forget? I thought my dad was going to blow a fuse.”

  Brian winced. His parents had been hurt that he’d run off, hurt even more when he’d refused to share why. They had died never knowing the truth, and maybe that was for the best. There was no changing what had happened, no matter how much he might want to.

  “We were going to get married,” he continued, “but Kim lost—”

  He stopped as he recalled her words. Their baby had not been misplaced; she had died, and they had buried her without a name in a place far away from here. Brian’s eyes burned, but he fought the weakness. He would tell Dean the truth, and then maybe he’d feel better—though he doubted it.

  “The baby died,” he continued. “We came back. Kim was . . . different—quiet, sad, not herself at all. I thought she should talk about it, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t even look at me anymore.”

  Brian paused, remembering how much that had hurt, how confused and lost and uncertain he had been. He’d wanted desperately to reach her, to help her, but he hadn’t known how. They had both been so young, so foolish and, despite having each other, completely alone.

  “One night I came to your house and I begged her to marry me anyway. What difference did it make? I loved her—she loved me. We’d have another baby. The next day she was gone.” He laughed without humor. “How can the same thing happen to the same guy twice?”

  “You got her pregnant twice?”

  “No,” he answered.

  “You’re sure?”

  “As sure as I can be. I’ve gotta find her.”

  “You’re going to run after her like a puppy?”

  “No. I’m going to run after her like a man.”

  “Girlie man,” Dean muttered. “I knew this would happen. I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her.”

  “If you’re so damn smart, tell me why she ran again.”

  Dean hesitated, then shrugged. “You trapped her.”

  “Me?”

  “With love, with sex, with a baby. She’s got to want to stay, man, and I don’t think she ever will. She’s not cut out for this place, this life, and she knows it.”

  Suddenly Brian remembered the expression in the mouse’s eyes that morning and exactly where he’d seen it before. Kim had looked like that all those years ago when he’d confronted her and begged her to marry him.

  Trapped.

  She’d looked like that last night, too, when he’d whispered, Stay. Marry me.

  Dean was right. He couldn’t make her stay here. He couldn’t follow her there. All he could do was hope.

  Brian sat down heavily on the top porch step.

  But he had no hope left.

  Dean climbed into his truck, then leaned out through the open window. “Brian? When you get those casts off your hands, I will beat the shit out of you.” He started the truck. “Pain in the ass Kim may be, but she’s still my little sister.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Everyone was asleep when she sneaked from her room, shimmied down the drainpipe and went into his arms. The night was dark and steamy with summer rain.

  Running across the green grass, they slid a little in the mud of the lane that led up to the main road, then tumbled into his car.

  They couldn’t afford to be caught tonight. Not that they’d ever been caught before. That was what had brought them to this. If you didn’t count love and youth and passion.

  He kissed her and whispered, “Everything will be all right,” and for a while it was.

  They checked into a small, dark motel room. She was afraid; so was he. Something was wrong, and they didn’t know what to do.

  Then there were people everywhere. Strangers. So much noise and light. But he never left her, not for a second.

  Too soon. Too small. A girl.

  The murmurs reached her over time. Someone was crying, and that someone was her.

  She held the baby; the child didn’t breathe. She was too tiny, completely perfect, exquisitely beautiful—and she looked just like her father.

  She shoved the bundle back into the stranger’s arms, and she never saw it again.

  But the emptiness left by the loss of that child never left her.

  Kim came awake with a gasp into the silent stillness of another lonely night.

  She was shaking, sweating. The breeze through her open window was warm and smelled of the river and autumn. She ached for the scent of snow and falling leaves. What she wouldn’t give right now for a hint of manure on the east wind.

  Kim got up and padded to the bathroom, splashed her face, got a shock when she glanced into the mirror. She was as white as a Savannah ghost. Maybe she was dead and just didn’t know it—like any good ghost— she certainly didn’t feel alive, and she hadn’t since she’d gotten on that plane.

  She’d been back in Savannah for over a month. The first few weeks she’d hidden out in her apartment, not even telling Livy that she was back. She’d managed to miss her friend’s wedding this way.

  When the silence became too loud and her boredom too deep, she’d come out of her isolation and returned to the life she’d made for herself in Savannah.

  But she no longer found any joy here—not in the place, her friends or her job. Not that she hadn’t tried. She’d danced, but she couldn’t laugh. She’d drunk, but everything tasted like dirt. So she’d immersed herself in cases during the week and taken Max to the park every weekend.

  Nothing helped. Kim was miserable, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

  The dream was back, worse than before. The heat, the rain, the pain. Brian’s fear, their love, her secret.

  Kim wandered through her apartment and wished she’d brought Precious here. She’d have had to get rid of the glass. No doubt the kitten would have broken every pretty thing. But it would have been worth it not to be alone.

  She sat on her veranda and stared at the city that had given her so much pleasure for so long. Savannah was just a place now. A place without him.

  She stayed up late, staring at the shadows of old buildings, listening to the music drift from River Street, refusing to think, trying not to feel.

  As a result, she overslept, awakening to irate pounding on her door. A glimpse through the peephole revealed Livy and Max. Since they had doughnuts, she let them in.

  Max flung himself at her waist, nearly knocking her down. Before she could do anything more than run her hand over his electric-blond hair, he was off, taking the doughnuts with him.

  “Freeze!” Livy commanded. “Hand over that bag or pay the price.”

  “You already paid the price, Mom. You said it was exbetent.”

  “Exorbitant,” Livy corrected. “Come back here.”

  Max turned. His lips were painted with chocolate. Kim looked down. So was her nightshirt.

  She covered the stain with her arm so Livy wouldn’t notice. But a single glance at her friend’s eagle eyes told her she was too late.

  Kim shrugged. “What’s a little chocolate between pals?”

  Livy rolled her eyes. “Better you than me.”

  Impeccably dressed in a suit of
royal blue for her afternoon court date Livy had not yet begun to show. But the glow of her skin and the happiness in her eyes would have tipped Kim off to the secret of her pregnancy, even if Livy hadn’t told her the news the second she learned Kim had returned to town.

  Kim was thrilled for Livy, thrilled for Max, even thrilled for Garrett, who seemed to be a decent guy despite his desertion of Livy the first time around. But these days, happiness only made Kim realize how sad she was.

  Max stuffed the doughnut bag into Kim’s hand and beelined for the open veranda doors again.

  “I don’t think so, buddy!” Livy snapped.

  “Aw, Mom.” He treated Livy to his kicked-puppy face. Kim snickered and got the same glare that Max did.

  “We’re too high up, Max.”

  “I promise not to lean out too far. I promise not to nearly fall. I promise not to die. I promise not to break anything, not even myself.” He crossed his heart.

  Livy bit her lip. Max pressed the advantage. “Daddy says you have to let me be a boy.”

  “Oh, really,” Kim purred, and stared archly at her friend. “Daddy says, huh?”

  “I know, I know. You’ve been telling me that for years.” Livy threw up her hands. “Fine. But so help me, Max, if you fall off that balcony and die, I will kill you.

  “You always say that,” he mumbled.

  “Gee, I wonder why.”

  But Max had already skipped off to the veranda before his mom could change her mind.

  “You do say that all the time, you know?”

  Kim led the way into the kitchen, where they could watch Max through the floor-length window next to the breakfast nook. She poured milk for Livy, then made coffee for herself.

  “And your point would be what?” Livy asked.

  “I don’t have one.” Kim set the doughnuts on the table. “Just an observation.”

  “Well, I’m going to make an observation. You look like hell.”

  Kim glanced up from her unenthusiastic contemplation of the doughnuts. “And your point would be?”

  “Why do you look like hell, Kim? Why do you walk around in a daze? You’ve stopped going out. You’ve even given up brainless bimbo boys.”