Cherokee Baby Part 24

"Have you?" she challenged.

"Yes." How could she ask him something like that? Didn't she see the changes in him? The difference she and the baby had made? "I have a lover again. I have you."

"You won't take your clothes off in front of me. You won't reveal who you are."

With a vile curse, he got to his feet, fighting the urge to punch a wall, the way he used to do when he was a kid. "This is about my leg? About your morbid curiosity to see it?"

Her voice quavered. "There's nothing morbid about my interest in you."

He flexed his fingers, letting the anger go. "You're getting emotional over me, I understand that. I'm getting emotional over you, too. But we're better off leaving things as they are. For G.o.d's sake, just let me keep my clothes on."

"Why?"

"Because I need to feel whole around you." He'd treated her badly at his door last night, but her unexpected visit had startled him, embarra.s.sed him,made him feel like a cripple.

And he hated that feeling more than anything.

"You are a whole man, Bobby."

Nice words, he thought. Easy sentiment for someone who wasn't attaching a prosthetic limb to a stump every morning. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not. d.a.m.n it, I'm not." A defensive light flashed in her eyes, as bright as a diamond, as powerful as flawless stone. "But you never talk about yourself. You never share anything with me."

What was he supposed to confide in her about? The accident? The crushed metal and shattered bones?

The blood? The mutilated skin? "If I was in the market for a support group, I'd go to one."

"So that's it? That's all I get? A man who'll sleep with me, but won't open his heart?"

"My heart?" The d.a.m.ned thing was pounding now, beating a painful rhythm. "I thought the issue was my leg. And my ring." He held up his hand, wished he could remove the gold circle from hisfinger, forget the shame connected to it.

"You don't get it, do you?"

He dropped his hand. "Get what? What is it that I'm not getting, Julianne?"

"That I'm in love with you."

The moment her words. .h.i.t the air, silence ricocheted.

Fear blasted Bobby like a fist, a set of bra.s.s knuckles to the belly. "That wasn't supposed to happen.

You weren't supposed to change the rules."

"I didn't do it on purpose." She gripped the handle on her cup."I swear, I didn't."

Were the rules changing for him, too? Was the need inside him love? The desperation to touch her? To

hold her?

G.o.d help him, but he wanted to hold her now. Right now, in the midst of the chaos between them.

Bobby looked at her, saw her looking back at him.

"I can't marry you," he said suddenly. He couldn't handle the complication, the ache, the confusion that

came with being a husband, with having to protect a wife. "But I would if I could."

Because he loved her. The way she loved him. What point was there in denying it? In pretending that he didn't know the difference between l.u.s.t and love?

He'd started living again because of her, enjoying simple pleasures, laughing with true mirth, looking

forward to waking up each day.

But he still couldn't marry her.

"I love you, too," he said quickly, playing it down, letting her know love wasn't the key to happiness. If

anything, it made mattersworse, more complicated for both of them. "But the way I feel about you doesn't change anything. I still need my privacy."

"What kind of love is that? Keeping your partner from getting too close?"

"The only kind I have to offer."

Her eyes watered, but she blinked away the obvious emotion. He blinked his away, too.

Stalemate, he thought, remaining true to his convictions, his need to protect himself, to keep his shame and discomfort hidden.

Julianne rose to refill her cup, to give herself a moment to think, a moment to stay strong.

How could she remain inTexas? How could she face each day knowing that she would never be Bobby's wife? That his idea of love conflicted with hers?

On the other hand, how could she leave? Tackle each day without seeing him? Touching him? Holding

him?

"I don't know what to do," she blurted, almost spilling her milk.

Bobby remained near the desk, his expression guarded. "What do you mean?"

She turned. "I have to make a decision. Come to terms with all of this."

Panic flashed in his eyes. "You're thinking about going back toPennsylvania, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Now? Afterwe both just admitted that we love each other? What kind of logic is that?"

The love he'd offered wasn't enough. Those words meant nothing without compromise, without sacrifice,

without commitment. "This is my life we're taking about. My future."

"It's my life, too."

She came forward, placed her cup on the desk. "Yes, but you're expecting me to live by your rules.

Rules that don't work for me."

"d.a.m.n it." Frustration edged his voice. "A week ago you said you could handle being my lover. I laid my cards on the table and you looked me right in the eye and said you could handle it." "I know. But that was before I realized I was falling in love with you." "Love is overrated," he countered, twisting the gold band on his finger. "Women make too d.a.m.n much of it."

How could he say that? How could he shove her feelings aside? "Before I agreed to move here, I laidmy cards on the table. I told you that if things didn't work out, I wanted the option to go home." "And now you're cashing in on that option?" "I don't know. Maybe." She lifted her milk, took a small sip,willed herself not to cry. He didn't understand how much she needed a commitment from him. "What about the baby?" "We'll work something out." "From across the country?" "No matter what happens, I won't shut you out of the baby's life. I'm not trying to punish you." But she couldn't punish herself, either. Stay in a situation that pained her. "G.o.d, this hurts." He shoved his left hand into his pocket, as if hiding his ring. "How can you do this?

How can you even consider it?" "Because I love you. And I need for you to love me the same way." "I do. d.a.m.n it. I do." "No, you don't." And she feared he never would. He dug his hand deeper into his pocket, burying the ring even farther. "You're judging me. You're a.s.suming what I feel for you isn't real." Real or not, he didn't covet the same dream as Julianne. He wasn't willing to sacrifice his pride for love, for the kind of intimacy that revealed his soul or unmasked his heart. "What happens now?" he asked, stepping back, putting yet another distance between them.

"I need some time to think," she told him, already mourning the loss, the closeness they never really had.

Bobby gave her two days and the clock-ticking, hour-lagging time nearly killed him. He couldn't sleep; he couldn't eat; he couldn't work without thinking about her, without hoping and praying she would choose to stay.

At9:00 p.m.he knocked on her door and Julianne answered right away. She looked tired, pale and vulnerable. But even so, she'd wrapped herself in flowers, in a nightgown with a soft, floral print.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

Julianne released an audible breath and he knew she'd decided to go back toPennsylvania. To leave him.

He could see it on her face, in the shadows beneath her eyes.

He stood tall, guarding his emotions; afraid the pain of losing her would unman him.

She gestured to the living room.

He entered her house and they remained silent.

Finally he lifted his hand. His finger bore a mark in the shape of his ring, where his skin had tanned

around it. But regardless, the gold band was gone.

She blinked, did a double take. "You removed it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I love you. And it doesn't make any sense to wear a ring another woman gave me."

She took his hand, held it in hers. "Does this mean you'll talk aboutSharonnow? About the significance of

the ring? About why you wore it all those years?"

"No. It just means that I love you." She released his hand. "You have too many secrets, Bobby. Too many issues you're not willing to share." Hurt, he squared his shoulders, fought the emptiness in his chest. "This is easy for you, isn't it? Walking away when life get tough."

"Easy?" Her Irish temper flared. "This is the hardest thing I've ever done. But, d.a.m.n it, I need more from you." "More than me removing a ring?" "Yes."

He cursed beneath his breath. Why couldn't it be enough? "I want to get pastSharon," Julianne said. "I want to see her picture, to hear you say her name withoutmaking her seem like a ghost between us." Sharonwasn't a ghost. She was his cross to bear, his shame, his remorse. "I wasn't a good husband. My wife deserved better than what she got from me."

Stunned, Julianne stared at him. "Oh, dear G.o.d. Did you cheat on her, Bobby? Did you?"

"No."