Rustled (17 page)

“Okay. If you
need a tutor, we’ll get one to come out from Rawlins. What else?”

I didn’t know
how to ask the next favor, or even what I should ask for. I wanted to feel that
Janet didn’t think me a gold-digger or worse for getting pregnant. After all,
Russ had participated quite willingly, and he was responsible for the failure
in birth control. Instead of asking, I stated, “Janet thinks I’m a
gold-digger.”

“No, she
doesn’t,” Russ said firmly. “She’s been as worried as I have. I know for a fact
that she’ll accept you and the little one, and if she doesn’t, I’ll fire her.”

I gasped,
“Russ, you can’t do that. She’s your family. That’s her
home
.”

Russ grinned
at me. “Of course I wouldn’t do that. But it won’t come to that, I promise.
What else?”

“I want to
feel useful. I can’t live my life reading books, not even just until the baby
is born. And I want to meet your parents, as soon as possible. They probably
won’t like me under the circumstances, but this baby needs some decent
grandparents.”

“We’ll take
care of all of that, and they’ll love you. But, speaking of grandparents, what
do you want to do about your mother?”

“I don’t
know,” I muttered.

“Do you think
she’d go to a clinic?” he asked.

“You mean, to
dry out? Maybe. But then what would happen? She has no real skills, and I’ve
discovered how difficult it is to get even a fast-food job these days.”

“She’ll come
and live with us,” he stated confidently. I stared at him.

“You’d do that
for me?”

“Kitten, how
many times do I have to tell you that I’d do anything for you?”

“Until I
believe it, I guess.”

“Believe it.
We’ll stay here until we can make the arrangements for your mother, and then go
back to the ranch, is that okay?”

“Thank you,” I
said, breaking down again. Russ took me in his arms and just held me.

Since I had
nothing but the clothes on my back with me, Russ insisted we return to Mom
’s trailer to get my things and to tell her I’d be moving out. I
suspected the information would go in one ear and out the other, and that she
wouldn’t even notice if I just disappeared, but Russ was firm. Even if I didn’t
respect her, it was clear that I loved her. And she deserved the consideration
we would give to any other human being, including letting her know her only
child was leaving. Put that way, I had to agree.

When we
arrived, Mom was passed out, a bottle of Wild Turkey dangling dangerously from
her hand. I took it from her gently and set it down, then shook her shoulder to
wake her.

“Mom. Wake up,
hon, I need to talk to you.”

Mom’s eyes
opened, then closed again. “Who’s-at with you?”

Russ came
forward and knelt by her chair. “Mrs. Brown, I’m Russ, remember? Charity’s
friend? May I call you Elizabeth?”

Her eyes
opened again and took a brief look at him. “Call me anything you want,
handsome. What can I do for you?”

My stomach
roiled, knowing she was propositioning him, but Russ remained steady.
“Elizabeth, I’m going to take Charity with me now, okay?”

“’Kay.”

“We’ll be back
tomorrow.”

“’Kay.”

With that, he
rose and led me out, carrying the bags I had arrived with, sans most of the clothes.
I hadn’t told him what I’d done with them, but would tell him everything
tonight. I could only hope he wouldn’t be mad, but for now the relief I felt
leaving that trailer made me almost giddy.

We arrived
back at the hotel about the time my stomach started growling. Russ laughed and
remarked that I hadn’t lost my hearty appetite, which he had been afraid of
when he saw how skinny I was. I warned him that morning sickness was just an
expression, because it could hit at any time, and that I lost about half of
what I ate on a normal day, though I’d been spared the indignity today.

“What can you
eat?” he asked, concerned.

“It doesn’t
seem to matter. One day I’ll keep greasy chili down, and then next I’ll throw
up even the blandest food. We can have whatever you like.”

“Charity, have
you seen a doctor?” I noticed that he called me Charity any time he was about
to get bossy, so it didn’t surprise me when he was upset with my no answer.

“I haven’t had
the money.” His mouth set in a straight line, he uttered a noise that sounded
very much like ‘harrumph’ and told me we would correct that first thing, as
soon as we were back at the ranch.

“Russ, I’m
sorry that there isn’t any insurance to cover this. You know, it’s a
pre-existing condition, ” I explained.

“Charity, sit
down.” The command left no room for protest, so I promptly sat, looking at him
expectantly.

“You know I’m
wealthy, right?” he started.

I nodded, but
said, “But I also know that cattle ranches are in trouble all over the US,
especially privately-owned ones, as opposed to corporations. I’m not stupid,
just uneducated, remember? I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Russ was
shaking his head. “Honey, the ranch is a hobby, it isn’t how I make my living.”
I barely had time to absorb the idea of keeping three women and two dozen men
on the payroll for a hobby when he went on. “You know about the internet, don’t
you? I mean, I know you can’t have used it much, but you understand it, right?”

“I know some
about it, yes,” I answered cautiously. Where this was going was a mystery,
since we had been talking about his ranch and this came out of the blue.

“There’s a lot
of money to be made on the internet and in services for people who use the
internet. All of my businesses have something to do with it, from website
design to internet service providers and data storage, to internet marketing
and sales.”

“All of them?
How many are there?”

“About twenty
at last count. After I made my first fortune, I became what’s known as an angel
investor. If a business looks good, I’ll fund it for a share of the profits. I
don’t have to run them, just sit back and collect money.”

My mouth was
wide open as I stared at him. “Twenty?” I squeaked.

“At last
count,” he answered. “Kitten, I’m worth maybe a couple of billion. Don’t worry
about insurance.”

I had to close
my mouth to gulp, which became a necessity when he mentioned the number. “Did
you say
billion
? With a B? Holy fuckin’ crap!”

Russ cracked
up. “Is that all you’ve got? Just one F-bomb?” I was staring at him as if
antennae were coming up through his hair. Suddenly, many things were clear to
me. Why everyone jumped when he spoke. How he had pulled off getting here in
two and a half hours when I called him. For what reason he was so confident
that he could make anything happen. And then I was angry. I flew at him,
pounding him with my fists, as he fought to catch them and control them, a look
of bewilderment on his face.

“Hey, what the
hell?”

“You could
have told me sooner! You still don’t trust me! You jerk, why didn’t you say
something?”

Russ had the
grace to look ashamed. “Look, you’re right. I should have trusted you from the
beginning. Can we start over please? You’re not a gold-digger and I’m not a
rapist. Fair enough?”

His reference
to my mistake on the first day I was conscious after the accident brought me up
short. No, in fact, he wasn’t anything of the sort. He might want what he
wanted when he wanted it, but he had come to expect that as a perk of his
business prowess, and besides, I liked it. What I’d said to him before I even
knew him was not only a mistake, but an insulting accusation I had no reason to
make. I stopped flailing my fists at him.

“How is it
ever going to look like anything but gold-digging, when you drag a pregnant
woman with no prospects home and introduce me to your parents.”

“Kitten, they
know all about you, and they have from the beginning. I don’t keep secrets from
them.”

“Then, they
know you and I…”

“It’s
understood. I didn’t give them a blow by blow description, so to speak,” he
said, grinning. “Trust me, they’re going to love you. And they’d kick my butt
if I didn’t do right by you. Hey,” he said, changing the subject. “If I show
you how to use my Mac and do an internet search, do you think you could
research the best place for your mom while I do an errand?”

It seemed our
heart-to-heart talk was at an end, and I was curious about his computer and the
internet that had made him so fabulously wealthy. Not that I cared about that,
other than to stop worrying about how much I was costing him. I wouldn’t have
cared if he was penniless, as long as I got to have that body and the intense
passion toward me that came with it.

“Sure.” After
setting me up with a password and showing me how to ask a computer questions it
could understand, Russ left, promising to be back within the hour for dinner,
but since I was already ravenous again, he dialed room service to ask them to
bring me a snack, and I was looking forward to the fruit and yogurt smoothie he
had chosen for me.

I also hadn’t
forgotten that we still had to talk about the RALDS girls. I wanted to know
what Russ had decided, and what had happened in my absence.

§

True to his
word, Russ was back within the hour, looking as if he had pulled off a good
prank. I didn
’t trust that look, but in the spirit of
starting over, I suppressed my urge to pry it out of him. He’d either tell me
in his own good time, or it was none of my business. How was that for trust?

I had sold all
my dresses except the green silk one that he loved with my unruly red hair; but,
like everything else that had been kept at my mom’s place, it smelled horribly
of smoke. Russ called for a valet and sent it out to be cleaned, along with my
other clothes to the laundry. It made me a virtual prisoner in the room, with
nothing to wear but the fluffy robe the hotel provided.

 Then he
announced we were staying in for dinner, and ordered for both of us. I was a
bit surprised to hear him order champagne, knowing I couldn’t drink it, but
again I didn’t ask. If he wanted some champagne, even the whole damn bottle,
who was I to complain? I had never seen him drunk, and believed that I never
would. He was too controlled to allow that, passionate as he was about other
things. I tingled as I anticipated the night ahead. With the urgency taken care
of earlier, I was hoping for a long, tender interlude in his arms.

While he had
been gone, I had looked up every alcohol rehab center I could find west of the
Mississippi River, and though I hated to put Mom in the same state as my dad,
the one I liked the most was a holistic treatment center in Arizona. I
suspected that Mom had issues underlying the alcohol abuse, that she would have
to address before she could successfully stay sober.

Russ read the
information on the website carefully, and agreed with my decision. He told me I
had done a great job, which I took to mean congratulations on not making price
a criteria. It was going to cost a small fortune to keep her there for any
length of time, but he had convinced me that it was of no importance to him. Though
it was a Saturday, he was able to reach the office and talk at length with
someone who promised to send an escort to take her there on the following
Tuesday. I hoped Russ wouldn’t be bored with St. Louis for the time we’d have
to be there until Mom’s little man in a white coat came for her.

We were
relaxing in the living room portion of the suite when a knock on the door
signaled that our dinner had arrived. Russ opened the door to two waiters, who
rolled in carts containing several covered dishes, an ice bucket with the
bottle of champagne and a huge bouquet of red roses. They went away smiling,
whether at the romantic gesture or the tip Russ gave them, I couldn’t say. Russ
brought me the bouquet and laid it in my arms. “These aren’t as lovely as you,
Kitten, but I hope you like them.”

I had never in
my life received flowers, nor did I know anyone who had. But I knew what red
roses meant, it was in all the romance books I’d read as a teen. “Oh, Russ, I
love them! And I love you, too.”

Looking around
for somewhere I could give them a drink of water, I spotted an empty vase on
one of the room service carts. Russ had thought of everything. He helped me
fill the vase and carefully settle the flowers in, then set it on my bedside
table in the bedroom. Our lovemaking that night would be accompanied by the
fragrance of two dozen red roses.

When he came
back into the living room, Russ had me sit at the table and brought dish after
dish for me to inspect and choose from. There was a succulent pork chop, served
with mashed sweet potatoes and chunky fresh-made applesauce; chicken breasts
resting on a bed of wild rice with a creamy sauce on top, a dish of asparagus,
swimming in a buttery, lemony hollandaise; and medium-rare prime rib with
garlic mashed potatoes and gravy.

I was
literally paralyzed with indecision, until Russ cut a few bites of each meat
and placed them along with a bit of their respective accompaniments on my plate.
Then it was just a matter of eating it all. And hopefully holding it down. I
managed at least a bite of each selection before I felt I’d burst if I had
more. Russ polished off the prime rib and part of the pork chop. I was ashamed
that there was as much food left as we had eaten, when people like my mom were
making do with dry dog food sometimes.