What Price Paradise (32 page)

“Out back. He’s putting steaks on the grill. Damn, Tate. You look just like Dad.”

Tate studied him. Strange. When he’d looked in the mirror he’d only seen his grandfather. But Buddy saw his father. Maybe the two men were more alike than he’d given them credit for being. A niggle of an idea was trying to work its way though but he shook it off. Right now, he didn’t have time for anything but Abby.

“I’m starved. Go tell Joe to throw on a couple more steaks.”

“Sure.” Buddy grinned.

As soon as the teenager was through the door, Tate pulled the pad of paper across the table. Using the lead of the pencil he’d picked up along with the phone book, he lightly skimmed it across the top sheet. Instantly, the faint outline of an address began to appear. 312 Oak Ridge Court, Apartment 2a. Quickly he tore it off and stuck it in the back of the phone book. Now all he needed was the town.

* * * * *

Tate glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten in the morning and he was getting more frustrated by the minute. As he’d discovered the evening before, by the time he’d tried to call any of the doctor’s offices listed in the book, they had all closed. He’d started again at eight-thirty this morning and he was rapidly running out of options.

He hung the phone up and crossed off another listing. Only two left to go. The phone rang three times before someone answered it, but he was ready.

“Hi. My name is Tate McCullom. My wife, Abby, had an appointment with you today. I have a surprise for her, but I forgot what time her appointment is. Can you check that for me?”

“One moment.”

There was a rustle of paper then the voice came back. “I’m sorry. We don’t have an Abby McCullom scheduled today.”

“Thanks. I must have gotten the day mixed up.” He set the phone back in the cradle and stared at it. There was something wrong with this picture. Think. He had to think.

His gaze scanned the list of numbers he’d already called. Abruptly, he sat up straighter. How was Abby able to afford a doctor? Yes, she might have a job now, but not one that paid enough for medical bills like the ones she was looking at.

He hesitated. Would Abby go to a free clinic feeling like she did about taking charity? It was worth a shot. Flipping the yellow pages to the section on clinics, his finger marked the first number while he dialed.

When a brisk feminine voice answered he repeated his speech then waited, stomach tied into a knot of nerves.

“Mr. McCullom?”

“Yes?” His sweat-slick hand tightened on the receiver.

“I’m sorry, but you just missed her. Her appointment was at eight this morning. She’s been gone about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you.” Weakness washed over him as he dropped the phone in the cradle. Layton. All this time she’d been in Layton, only an hour and a half away.

So now he knew. The only problem was what to do about it. Did he dare just go over there and confront her? Insist she come back home where she belonged? What if she said no, refused to even speak to him?

Fear wiggled its way up his spine, leaving him trembling in reaction. After what he’d put her through, he wouldn’t blame her if she called the police and had him thrown out. It wasn’t a chance he was sure he could take. One thing had become glaringly clear to him. He couldn’t live without her. Didn’t even want to try.

Slowly, a plan of action began to form in his mind. One that he could implement today. He stood up so fast the chair shot across the room. There was a lot to do if he was going be ready by the time Abby got off work.

He scrawled a quick note to Buddy, then grabbed his hat and headed for the truck.

* * * * *

Abby adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder, then flicked the lights out in the store. The August heat hit her full force as she turned to lock up. She could practically feel her clothes and hair wilting as a thin film of sweat covered her. Thank heavens there were plenty of trees lining the way home. Even a short walk in this heat could incapacitate someone.

She paused to study the new display in the store window, then nodded. It looked good. And she’d done it all herself. She tilted her head to one side, her gaze running over the mannequin. On second thought, maybe the red and gold scarf would look better with the outfit.

The keys were already back in her hand when she realized what she was doing. She was putting off going back to the apartment. Again. It was an hour past her normal quitting time and still she was dawdling.

She knew what the problem was. Had known all along. The small apartment was empty. As empty as her life had been before Tate. Even the thought of him stirred the ever-present ache into a stab of agony.

Resolutely, she pushed the pain back down, her lips firming with determination. Nothing was like it had been before Tate, especially not her. Her apartment was like a mansion compared to the shack she’d lived in before and her refrigerator was full of food. She had a good job, one that allowed her to take care of herself. Her back straightened and her chin lifted. She wasn’t the town whore anymore. She was Abby McCullom, high school graduate and soon-to-be mother. She had a right to be proud.

“Abby!”

She glanced around at the sound of her name and smiled at the tiny old man waving from across the street. “Hello, Mr. Harmon. How are you this evening?”

“Burning up,” he called back. “My air conditioning went out again today. Looks like I’m going to have to spring for a new unit after all.”

“Maybe you can patch it together enough to last until it cools off some.”

“Could be. I wanted to let you know that special caffeine-free tea you wanted came in today.”

“Great!” She crossed the street and followed him into the store. He reached under the counter and brought out a box.

“Green tea, huh? Don’t believe I’ve ever had anyone ask for it until you did.”

“It’s supposed to be good for you.” She smiled at him.

“I’ll take your word for it. Got a few more boxes of it here when you’re ready for them.”

“Thank you.” She pulled out a few bills and handed them to him, waiting while he made change. “Could you give me a few dollars’ worth of quarters, Mr. Harmon?”

“I think I can spare them.” He counted the money out into her hand. “Have a good evening, Abby.”

“You, too.” She pocketed the money on her way out the door. Tomorrow she was going to call Tate. It wasn’t going to be easy hearing his voice, but she had to do it. The baby was as much his as it was hers and, in spite of everything, she knew he loved it. He had a right to know what was going on.

She shot a glance at the pay phone outside Mr. Harmon’s store, one hand resting on the prominent mound of her stomach. Maybe she should do it now and get it over with. Her steps hesitated then picked up again. No, tomorrow was soon enough. Mrs. Cooper ran the store on Saturday’s so she’d have more time, wouldn’t have to rush through the call. She suspected that Tate was going to have a lot of questions. Questions she wasn’t sure she had the answers to yet.

Joe had told her that Tate wasn’t doing so great since she’d left, but she wasn’t sure she believed him. Tate wasn’t the type to fall apart. Especially not over a woman he’d been forced to marry in the first place. But the baby was a different story. It must have really hurt him, not knowing if he’d ever see his child.

Guilt clenched her stomach into a knot. She hadn’t meant to put him through that. He must know she’d never try to keep him away from their child.

Her reverie was broken when a large yellow dog bounded from between two houses, barking furiously in his pursuit of a gray cat.

“Digger!”

At her voice, the dog came to a sliding stop, an expression of canine chagrin on his furry face. Tail waving, he whined and slunk to her side.

“You know better than to chase Vincent, now don’t you?” She ruffled his furry ears. “Remember what happened to your nose the last time you caught up with him?” She gave the dog a final pat. “Go find Zeke, Digger.” He spun and ran back in the direction he’d come from, apparently going to find his young master.

She watched him go, a sigh on her lips. There was so much she missed. Buddy and Dog. Her garden. The horses. Even the chickens. But most of all, she missed Tate. Missed seeing him, talking to him, being held in his strong arms. There wasn’t a night that went by when she didn’t dream he was there with her. It made waking up alone a miserable experience and, more than once, her face had been wet with the tears she wouldn’t allow herself to shed during the day.

Stooping carefully to move a toy some child had left on her sidewalk, she fished in her purse for her keys. As soon as she pushed the door open a blast of cold air hit her and she frowned. She was positive she’d turned the air conditioner up this morning, just as she always did. It cost too much to run it when no one was there.

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her then came to an abrupt halt. A huge purple bear sat on her coffee table, a vase of yellow roses in his arms, their sweet aroma permeating the whole apartment. The box of tea slipped from her numb fingers and landed on the floor with a soft thunk.

“I hope you like them.” The voice, low and male, came from her right and she spun to face him, shivers of excitement shaking her right down to her toes.

“Tate.”

His name was the only word she was able to choke out. This had to be another dream, one she’d wake up from any second now. But he looked real. He was standing in the opening of her small kitchen, hands in his front pockets. His shoulders almost touched the door frame on either side.

“When I told the landlady I was your husband, she let me in.” He didn’t move any closer, just stood there, his gaze devouring her.

He was thinner, Abby noticed. And he’d changed in other ways as well. His hair was longer for one thing, showing signs of a curl where it met his collar. And his face. The last time she’d seen him it had still held traces of boyishness. It was gone. What confronted her now was the face of a man. A man who had gone through hell and back.

It was a face that could stop her heart from beating, freeze the air in her lungs. God, how she loved him. And how hard it was going to be to keep from showing it when all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and forget the rest of the world existed.

“You look good, Abby.”

“Thank you.” She forced herself to put her purse on the end table, then stooped to pick up the tea she’d dropped. “I guess Joe finally told you where I was.”

“No, he wouldn’t tell me a thing. I found you by calling every doctor’s office in the area.” He took a step farther into the living room.

“I see.” She moved by him into the kitchen, the scent of his aftershave making her dizzy with longing. “I’m afraid I don’t have any coffee. I don’t drink it because of the baby. Would you like some tea?”

“Tea will be fine.” He’d turned to follow her movement. “Joe told me you got your diploma. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” She forced a smile, but it felt stiff, unnatural. As soon as the water was on to heat, she looked at him again. “You didn’t have to drive all the way over here. I was going to call you tomorrow.”

“Why?”

She couldn’t miss the surge of hope that lit his crystal-blue eyes and pain had her gripping the edge of the countertop. “I thought you had the right to know about the baby.”

The flare of hope died as quickly as it had come, replaced with anxiety. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” This time her smile was real. “Everything is fine. The doctors at the clinic are wonderful. They did an ultrasound this morning. That’s why I was going to call you. The baby is healthy. They said he’s a little big, but I guess that’s to be expected. You aren’t exactly small yourself. Looks like he’s going to take after you.”

“He?” Tate removed his hands from his pockets. “It’s a boy?”

She nodded. “There’s no doubt about it. Looks like Buddy is going to owe Joe some money.” She scooped the tea leaves into the pot and poured the boiling water over them.

“Abby, we have to talk. I mean really talk this time.” He stepped toward her.

The kitchen was small enough that it put him much too close. She backed up, not trusting herself so near him. “I suppose you’re right.” She hesitated. “I was going to heat up some stew for supper. There’s plenty if you want to stay.”

He nodded. “I’d like that.”

Taking a pan out, she set it on the stove, then opened the fridge and removed a large container, dumping the contents into the pan. “It will only take a few minutes to heat.”

She got out the silverware then stretched to reach the bowls in the top cabinet. When she turned around, he was right behind her. Their gazes met as his hand closed over hers on the dishes. Time stopped. Her heart missed a beat then made up for the error by pounding at double its normal speed.

“I’ll set the table.” His tone was husky, his gaze never wavering from hers.

She averted her eyes, carefully sliding her hand from beneath his before nodding assent.

“I’ve missed you, Abby.”

It took her two tries to pick up the spoon. Hand shaking, she turned away from him and gave the stew a stir.

“Did you miss me at all?”