Cherokee Baby Part 23

She ate from the same spoon. "It's wonderful." And to her, it tasted of him. OfTexasnights and wishful dreams.

Together, they finished her dessert and he leaned in and brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss. "Do you want to dance?"

"I'd love to."

The music was softer now, a slow country ballad. He took her in his arms and she realized he wasn't hiding their romance.

But why would he? Everyone at the ranch knew about the baby. Everyone, she supposed, except Lloyd, who probably couldn't recall being told.

She caught sight of the old cowboy standing in a corner, watching her and Bobby with a scowl on his face.

Maria walked over to Lloyd and took his hand, guiding him outside. Julianne closed her eyes and fought the fear creeping back into her soul. The urge to weep once again.

Chapter 12.

Julianne stood at a fence rail, trying to shake the melancholy from the night before. After the dance Bobby had dropped her off at the cabin, given her a pa.s.sionate kiss and told her he'd see her sometime today.

It had been a perfectly confusing date, with a confusing man.

And after the way he'd behaved, the way he'd twisted her emotions, she had a right to be upset.

Bobby simply wasn't letting her into his heart.

With a sigh, she gazed at the horses in pasture. A pretty palomino nibbled playfully on the coat of a gray,

and a chestnut appeared to be handing down a pecking order, letting the herd know he was in charge.

"Ma'am," a voice said from behind her.

She turned to find Lloyd studying her the way she'd been studying the horses, a.n.a.lyzing her with watery

blue eyes.

"I saw you at the dance," he said.

"I saw you, too. You were with Maria."

Lloyd squinted. His face was tanned and weathered, as hard as sun-baked leather. "Are you really

having Bobby's baby?"

She gulped the air in her throat. "Yes."

"Maria claimed youwas , but I didn't believe her. We argued about it."

"I'm sorry," was all Julianne could think to say.

He s.h.i.+fted his stance, bending one bony knee. "Maria keeps telling me that I forget things, mix up my years and such. Maybe I'm gettin' senile."

"We're all forgetful now and then," she said, hoping to comfort him. Apparently he didn't understand the magnitude of his disorder.

"Maria says Bobby's wife is dead. Is that true?" Julianne nodded. "Sharondied three years ago." "I don't recall her dying. I just don't." He frowned, changed his posture again, bending the other knee. "I remember whenher and Bobby got married. I was at theweddin '."

"You were?"

"Yes, ma'am. They had themselves a traditional Cherokee ceremony." He made a pained face. "I can't believe that little gal is gone."

She closed her eyes, opened them a few seconds later. "I didn't know her."

"No, I suppose you didn't." Lloyd sighed. "Are you and Bobby married now?"

Her heart b.u.mped her chest. "No."

"Then how come Bobby wears aweddin ' band?"

Her legs went weak; her eyes began to water. Somehow she'd known Bobby's ring was the reason Lloyd had been keepingSharonalive.

Was that Bobby's way of keeping her alive, too?

She inhaled a breath, willed her tears not to fall. "I guess he can't bear to remove it."

"Yet he's having a baby with you?"

"Yes."

"I don't like to stick my nose in other people's business. But Bobby should know better. He ought to marry the woman carrying his child. He ain't like his dead brother. He ain't a h.e.l.lion."

No, he was a proper, responsible man, Julianne thought. But that didn't automatically bind him to her.

Would he remove his ring if she asked him to? Discuss his dead wife? The accident that had left him widowed?

She blinked, felt the sting of unshed team. Would he undress in front of her? Trust her enough to be his partner in every way?

"I'll talk to Bobby," she told Lloyd, knowing she didn't have a choice. She couldn't go on day after day, month after month, hoping the man she loved would bare his soul.

The old cowboy stepped forward. "I'm sorry if I made you sad."

"I was sad already," she admitted. Living in denial, pretending everything was all right one moment and battling her emotions the next.

"Bobby took a group into the hills, but he should be back soon. Why don't you wait for him in his office?

Get yourself a gla.s.s of milk."

"Thank you. Maybe I will."

He gave her a paternal nod and they parted company. But as she started toward the barn, he stopped her.

"Ma'am?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"What should I do with all those pinecones?"

She looked athim, saw the distress in his eyes. He was rational today, but tomorrow he might slip into a state of confusion. "I don't know."

"Can I bring them to your place?"

G.o.d help her. She couldn't take over forSharon, not like that. She wanted to be Bobby's future, not a replica from his past. "Why don't you scatter them in the hills? As a memorial forSharon."

"All right." He smiled a little, content with the idea. "Now go on and get yer milk."

Once again, Julianne started toward the barn. A cool breeze blew her hair across her face. Summer had ended and fall was in the air. Soon, she suspected, the hills would be alive with autumn leaves and burnished sunsets. WasTexashers to keep?she wondered. Could she stay here and wait for Bobby to love her the way she loved him? To trust her? To marry her? Or would that be like waiting for a miracle? A dream that wasn't meant to be. * * *

Thirty minutes later Bobby headed for his office,then stopped in the open doorway.

Julianne sat at his desk, focused on the coffee cup in front of her, as if the liquid inside wielded the power to tell fortunes. She was drinking tea, he a.s.sumed. Doctored with cream and sugar.

He watched her, knowing she was unaware of his presence. He liked catching her during quiet, reflective moments, and wondered if she knew how important she'd become to him. How special.

He went to bed every night thinking about her, antic.i.p.ating the next moment they would spend together. The next smile, the next touch, the next stolen kiss.

Of course, last night had been difficult. After she'd showed up at his place, catching him off guard, he'd struggled to keep the date going, to not feel like a cripple. But he'd gotten through it. He'd survived. She glanced up and his heart went crazy, striking his chest. A physical reaction he couldn't seem to control, a boyish backlash that made him feel young and stupid.

She didn't smile, but he wasn't smiling, either. He was too busy trying to calm his rebellious heart.

"I've been waiting for you," she said.

He moved forward, reminding himself that he was a man, not a moonstruck kid. "Were you reading tea

leaves in the meantime?"

She s.h.i.+fted her cup. "It's milk."

"Oh." The day after they'd made love, he'd bought her favorite tea and stocked the cupboards with it.

But milk was a good choice, healthy for the baby. He'd have to remember to replenish the supply. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long. I had a tour today."

"I know. You guided a group into the hills."

He brushed at his clothes, at the trail dust that lingered. Was this conversation strained? Or was it his imagination? "You seem preoccupied, Julianne."

"I'm afraid, Bobby."

"Of what?" Concerned, he took a chair.

"Of what I need from you. Of things I don't think you're willing to give me."

Nerves tightened, coiling like an unfriendly snake. "Things? Youmean, emotional stuff?"

"Yes."

Restless, she twisted her hair, twining it like the anxiety in his gut. He leaned forward, frowned, saw her

frown, too.

Was she going to fill him in? Or would she let him sit here andsuffer, waiting and wondering?

"Why do you still wear your wedding ring, Bobby?"

The room crashed in on him. He could almost hear books falling from the shelves, gla.s.s shattering from

the windows, cutting his skin, making him bleed.

"I just do." Explaining why was impossible. Admitting to Julianne that he and Sharon had argued over the ring just days before she'd died, just days before he'd killedher, wasn't something he could manage.

"You're still in love with her," she said.

No, that wasn't true. He was guilty about his wife. Sickened by what he'd done. "I died the day she

died, but I've started living again. I've gone on."