Married by High Noon Read online

  “Well, good night.”

  “Good night.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to marry me.”

  “As you said, it’s for Danny’s sake.”

  “Yeah.”

  She didn’t know why he seemed disappointed. That’s what he’d been telling her all evening.

  “I hope the bed’s comfortable.”

  “It was last night. I suppose it will be tonight, too.”

  He grinned. “I’d better go to bed. We’re beginning to sound as if we haven’t a brain between us.”

  “Would you lock the doors?” she asked.

  “We don’t need to.”

  “I know, but I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

  “Okay. But before you leave, you’re going to learn to sleep like a baby with both doors standing wide open.”

  She would never be able to sleep like a baby in this house. But it had nothing to do with unlocked doors. The danger was inside.

  Gabe looked at the clock. Six o’clock. He wondered if he’d had as much as six minutes of sound sleep. He’d spent most of the night tossing restlessly in his bed, acutely aware Dana slept only a few feet away.

  It might as well have been a thousand miles. They were separated by more than the wall. It seemed unnecessarily perverse of his physical nature—or whatever part of him he could blame it on—to keep torturing him with images of what could be if…

  There could be no if. Despite trying to give the appearance of a happily married couple, she wanted him to stay as far away from her as possible. That shouldn’t have been so hard. They were already separated in every other way.

  He had been okay until the wedding. But the reception, more specifically, the hugging and kissing they’d done to convince Mr. Dowd, had been his undoing. By the time they left the hotel, his nerves were wound so tight, he could hardly stand it. If Dana had indicated even the slightest willingness, he’d have taken her straight to his bedroom and made love to her the entire afternoon.

  Okay, it would have been sex. But it would have been sex like he’d never experienced with any another woman.

  He could still taste her kisses, had been tasting them during dinner, during the drive back from Harrisonburg, during the long hours he’d lain awake remembering, imagining, being tortured by what he knew he couldn’t have, shouldn’t want. She’d been reluctant to kiss him, but once her body betrayed her, she seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. Knowing that had provided fuel for his imagination.

  Neither of them had anticipated the heat that flared between them as they stood together, their bodies pressed against each other, smiling stupidly for dozens of flash cameras. After more than a dozen relatively peaceful bachelor years, he couldn’t understand how one woman could unhinge him so. No other woman had, and quite a few had tried.

  He had been a rotten dinner companion. His uncontrolled response to her angered him, and he’d taken it out on her. He hadn’t acted that way with other women, so it had to be Dana’s fault. Not even a cold shower had alleviated his uncomfortable condition.

  Now he’d lain awake most of the night, imagining scenes that would never happen, hearing words they’d never say, thinking of outcomes that were impossible. He needed to go to work, become involved with a new project, hit his thumb with a hammer—anything to get his mind off Dana.

  Mumbling a curse, he threw the covers aside. It didn’t take long to get dressed. He went downstairs in his stocking feet so he wouldn’t wake Dana. He’d fix his coffee and get out of the house before she woke. Maybe returning to his normal routine would help.

  He didn’t get a chance to test his theory. He’d just put the water on to boil when Dana entered the kitchen with a very wide-awake Danny on her hip.

  The shock of seeing her in his kitchen at this hour of the morning, wearing nothing but a silk bathrobe that didn’t cover much of her gorgeous legs, and a dreamy, half-asleep expression on her face, affected him like a punch in the stomach. She looked so much like the sweet little girl he remembered he could almost think she was the same person. He’d been trained his entire life to protect women, to be constantly on guard for their welfare. At this moment Dana looked exactly like the kind of woman he would want to protect, to safeguard, to cherish.

  He told himself to stop imagining things. Dana might look charmingly helpless right now, but it was an illusion. This woman could hold her own in New York. She could probably flatten Iron Springs and everybody in it if she had a mind to.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.

  “You didn’t,” she said, smothering a yawn. “Danny did. He usually sleeps longer, but I guess the break in routine has thrown him off schedule.”

  “Want me to fix him some breakfast?”

  “I’ve got his cereal.”

  “Want eggs,” Danny announced.

  “I’ve got your favorite cereal,” Dana said. “It’ll be ready in a minute.”

  “Want eggs,” Danny repeated.

  Dana didn’t appear to be pleased with his choice, but she didn’t argue. “Apparently he prefers eggs to cereal,” she said to Gabe.

  “It’s no trouble. How about you?”

  “All right, and some bacon, too.”

  “Sure your metabolism won’t go into shock?”

  She laughed. “Grandmother used to feed me eggs and sausage every morning. I guess my metabolism can survive for another day.”

  “I’ll do the eggs and bacon if you’ll do the rest. There’s butter and jam in the refrigerator and—”

  “Don’t tell me. I might as well get used to finding things by myself. You won’t want to cook breakfast for us every morning.”

  The idea appealed to him, even though he hadn’t eaten breakfast in years. “It’s no more trouble to cook for three than for one.”

  “I’ll clean up.”

  He liked that. He hated doing dishes. Even with a dishwasher, they sometimes piled up in the sink.

  “I don’t like Danny sitting on that stack of phone books,” Dana said. “He could fall.”

  “No problem. I’ll make him a high chair.” He’d never made one, but he looked forward to it.

  By the time Dana got the table set and he served the food, he’d spent more time than he did on an entire meal when by himself. But the time had passed quickly and pleasantly. He enjoyed having someone in the kitchen with him. Danny’s chatter served to brighten his morning rather than irritate him.

  “Is he always this cheerful in the morning?” he asked.

  “Always. Sometimes Mattie and I would draw straws to see who’d get up with him.”

  That didn’t sound like his sister. “I’m surprised Mattie could sleep through somebody else taking care of her child.”

  Dana chuckled. “Neither of us could. We’d both end up in the kitchen, our eyelids propped open, mumbling incoherently to each other.”

  He’d like to have seen that. The thought of waking up and finding her sleeping next to him caused the fire to ignite in his loins. He served the last of the eggs and sat down before his condition could become obvious.

  Dana was annoyed when Gabe fed Danny from his own plate.

  “I can feed him,” she said.

  “I figured as much. But since I’m going to be doing it alone in a few weeks, I might as well get some practice.”

  The reminder that she would soon have to leave Danny probably accounted for the abrupt dip in her mood, but the phrase would pop up in their conversation many times during the next weeks. It would be easier if she got used to it now.

  Still, he felt sorry for her. When she first arrived, he’d thought of her as Danny’s custodian. Since then he’d had plenty of opportunity to see that Dana loved Danny almost as much as she would have loved her own child. It wouldn’t be easy to leave him. Gabe would do what he could to make the separation easier—encourage her to call, let her visit as often as she wanted—but separation was inevitable. He couldn’t imagine her forsaking New York to be near Danny, not even for the summer. />
  “I’ve decided to put Danny in day care.”

  Dana’s announcement caught him completely off guard. It also made him angry. He would soon be in sole charge of Danny, not Dana. He should be the one to make that decision.

  “Why would you do that?” he asked, trying to keep his tone conversational.

  “I suppose I should have discussed it with you,” she said, looking slightly abashed.

  That was as close to an apology as he imagined Dana would come. “We’re about to discuss it,” he said. “Now tell me why you think this is a good idea.”

  Dana flashed a brief smile. “Very diplomatically put. I think we ought to do it for two reasons. First, Danny needs to learn to play with other children, to relate to people his own age. There’s no such thing as privacy or keeping to yourself in this town. That will take some getting used to.”

  “Is that why you never came back, too many people sticking their noses into your business?”

  “We’re not discussing me.”

  He shouldn’t have asked that question, but he’d always wondered. He thought she liked Iron Springs, that it gave her the feeling of family and belonging her own parents were too busy to provide. He must have been wrong. She hadn’t set foot in the place in fourteen years.

  “What’s your second reason?”

  “Danny want down.”

  She looked at Gabe, a question in her eyes.

  “Let him get down. He can’t hurt anything.”

  “It’s clear you know nothing about children,” Dana said. “They’ve been known to destroy reinforced concrete. You can get down,” Dana said to Danny, “but don’t touch anything. If you see something you want, come ask me.”

  “You can play with anything you want in your room,” Gabe said.

  But Danny wasn’t ready to venture that far from Dana. He went out into the hall, disappeared into the den, but he kept coming out into the hall to make sure Dana was still close by.

  “My second reason,” Dana continued, “is he needs to get used to whoever will take care of him when I leave…go back to New York. You and your mother both work.”

  “Mother is thinking of cutting back.”

  “He seems to be getting along famously with Elton,” Dana said, “but he’ll be back in school soon. Danny needs to learn to get along on his own.”

  “You could put it off until fall.”

  “I want to make sure he’s settled and happy before I leave. The sooner we start, the sooner I’ll find out if there’re going to be any problems.”

  “Naomi says the other kids like him.”

  “I still think we ought to start now.”

  She hadn’t eaten a bite since she started talking about leaving, just pushed her eggs about the plate, cut her bacon into smaller and smaller bits until it looked as though it had been through a meat grinder. He wished he could have sent her back to New York yesterday. The more he understood the hurt this separation would cause, the worse he felt about it.

  “You realize that no matter what explanation you make, this will start speculation.”

  “I know.”

  “You won’t like some of the things people will say.”

  “I know that, too. That’s why I want you to go with me. They might think I’m putting him in day care to get rid of him. They wouldn’t believe that of you.”

  “Oh, yes, they would.”

  “Well they won’t believe it for long, not after they see the way you spoil him. You really have to watch that. He looks so innocent you want to give him anything he wants, but you can’t. He can wrap you around his little finger in no time.”

  Gabe laughed. “How did you escape his snare?”

  “Mattie said he’d have it rough when he grew up. No matter how modern we Americans think we are, people still don’t let a child forget his birth. She didn’t want Danny to grow up expecting things to come easily.”

  “Then Danny is in the right place. People here won’t let him get too big for his britches, but they’ll all be in his corner if he ever needs them.”

  “That’s about the only reason I can stand to leave him.”

  Gabe heard the catch in her voice, saw moisture glisten in her eyes.

  “I’d better make myself decent to be seen in public.” Dana got up from the table quickly, turned away so he couldn’t see her tears. “Leave the dishes. I’ll clean up when I get back.”

  Gabe got up and took his plate to the sink. No matter what he said to himself, he couldn’t help feeling guilty for causing Dana so much unhappiness. He racked his brain for a way around it, or to make it easier. He was so deep in thought he didn’t realize he’d cleaned up the whole kitchen until Dana came back downstairs.

  “Want down,” Danny said.

  “All right, little fella,” Gabe said. He stood to lift Danny from the high chair he’d made that day. “I put a box of toys in the den. Now you don’t have to go all the way upstairs.”

  “I was going to ask if you minded if I brought some of his things downstairs,” Dana said.

  She’d been surprised when Gabe came home with the high chair. He said it hadn’t taken much time to make, but it looked too ornate to have been made in a couple of hours. Besides, the time had been taken from his usual work. From what Mattie had said, nothing ever kept Gabe from his work. Dana considered the high chair a good sign Gabe wouldn’t get so wrapped up in his work he’d neglect Danny.

  “You can put his toys anywhere you want,” Gabe said. “I put them in his room because it seemed the most logical place.”

  “It was, but he likes to be near us.”

  “You mean he likes to be near you. He checks on you every few minutes.”

  Gabe couldn’t hide his disappointment that Danny hadn’t accepted him as an equal part of his world.

  “What do you suggest I do to change that?” Gabe asked.

  “Be around him as much as possible, do things with him. He needs to get used to you, to know you’re safe.”

  “You can’t mean he thinks I’d hurt him!”

  “No, but you’re really big. Maybe a little frightening. He needs to learn not to be afraid of your size.”

  “He won’t learn that always going to you.”

  “I can’t push him away. That wouldn’t work either.”

  She hoped they weren’t about to argue. The entire day had been comfortable, reassuring. She would hate to have it end on a sour note.

  They’d fixed dinner together. He’d grilled pork chops and fixed mashed potatoes. She’d fixed a salad, steamed some beans, and unmolded the gelatin dessert she’d fixed that afternoon. She had little experience in the kitchen and certainly couldn’t cook as well as he could, but she didn’t want him thinking she had spent her life eating in restaurants. She didn’t want him taking Danny to fast-food joints. If he had to live at the end of the earth, he ought to have decent, home-cooked meals as compensation.

  “You have to do things with him,” Dana explained. “Feeding him is a good place to start. So is putting him in and out of his high chair, playing with the train. It may not seem like much, but it’s important.”

  Dinner had passed off well. Gabe had asked about her day, she asked about his, and both acted as though they were interested in the answers. She would have liked to know more about what he did.

  But they talked mostly about Danny. And listened to him talk about day care. Dana gave Gabe high marks for enduring the child’s endless chatter. Adults who weren’t used to children generally didn’t have much tolerance for them, but Gabe displayed no impatience with Danny. He seemed perfectly willing to concentrate his entire attention on Danny and ignore her completely.

  Gabe got up from the table and carried his dishes to the sink. “We’d better start cleaning up.”

  She’d looked forward to talking to him a little more. She’d spent the morning by herself and the afternoon with Danny. As much as she loved the child, she was starved for adult company.

  “You scrape, and I’ll p
ut then in the dishwasher,” Gabe said.

  No matter how quickly she did her part of the job, his hand was always out, ready for the next pot or plate or glass.

  “We’ve got all night,” she said when his impatience began to grate on her nerves.

  “No, we don’t. I have exactly one hour before Danny goes to bed to play with him so he can get used to me.”

  She wondered if he would manage to save a few minutes for her. She knew this marriage was nothing more than a business arrangement, but since he was the only person she knew, she had to talk to him or watch one of the three TV channels they could get in the valley. Gabe said he never watched TV, so he didn’t have a satellite dish.

  “Done,” Gabe said as he closed the dishwasher and put it on.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Dana asked, just about the time he disappeared through the doorway.

  “Sure,” came his voice floating out from the den.

  She took coffee beans from the freezer and measured three tablespoons into the grinder. The rasping sound of the blades as they ground the beans into tiny pieces exactly suited her mood. She’d make Gabe’s coffee and take it to him. But he would pay her some attention. She refused to be upstaged by a two-year-old, even one as precious as Danny.

  But as she waited for the water to boil, the noises from the den suddenly changed in volume and intensity. By the time the coffee was ready, it sounded as if World War III were taking place on the other side of the kitchen wall.

  When she reached the den, she found Gabe and Danny in the middle of a fierce battle. Danny’s soldiers attacked Gabe’s soldiers to the accompaniment of loud explosions and impacts of crashing plastic. She’d never imagined a man could make so many realistic noises with his mouth, nor that Gabe would be the one doing it. Danny’s efforts to imitate him sounded like tiny soprano squeaks to Gabe’s rumbling baritone.

  Why did men always have to play games of violence? She supposed that question would be asked only by a woman who’d been brought up by a succession of women and educated by women. Not that she expected Gabe and Danny to play with dolls, but Danny had blocks, puzzles, picture books and dozens of animals. If he really needed to work off some energy, he could have gotten out the peg board and hammer Mattie bought him just before she died.