Heartache Falls Part 11

Seated at a table for one at the Blue Spruce Sandwich Shop, Ali picked at her dinner salad, almost too tired to eat. After three days of hard work, the painting was completed. Next time I'll let the contractors do it.

Guilt over spending so much on kitchen appliances had caused her to look for opportunities to save money elsewhere. The paint job looked good-thanks to help from friends-but she'd never guessed the work itself would tax her so much. Her lack of gym time during the past year was showing.

The shop's front door opened, and Ali saw Sarah Reese walk in carrying a cardboard box. Sarah made the desserts served at the Blue Spruce, and Ali knew from experience that they were delicious. "Thank goodness," she said, waving toward the empty refrigerated display case. "I was beginning to worry."

"Me, too," Sarah responded as she set down the box and began to fill the case's s.p.a.ce with cake, pies, and brownies. "Today has been one of those ugly days. Mom had a particularly difficult time today."

"I'm sorry, Sarah. Do you have time to join me? I'm buying."

Sarah considered a second, then said, "I believe I do. Iced tea, please."

As Ali gestured to her waitress to bring another gla.s.s of tea, Sarah finished unloading the desserts, dropped off her invoice in the owner's office, then joined Ali at her table. "How's the painting coming?"

"It's finally done. Thanks so much for your help. I didn't know what I was getting myself into."

"It was fun." Sarah waved the protest away, then turned serious. "It was fun. I'm glad to help you any way I can, Ali. The Cavanaugh coins have been a life-saver for me."

Now it was Ali's turn to give a dismissive gesture. The coins to which she referred had been in a box of items Ali's father had received from the Eternity Springs side of the Cavanaugh family, and they'd been worth a fair amount of money. Once Ali had learned Sarah's big secret-the true ident.i.ty of Lori's father-and realized that Lori had as rightful a claim to those coins as her own children and a much greater need, Ali had offered them to Sarah. Prideful, Sarah had resisted taking them at first, but the realities of college tuition eventually made her cave. "Family takes care of family. Or at least they should."

Sarah frowned at her. "Is that supposed to be a subtle message of some sort, Timberlake? Has my daughter been bending your ear about her father?"

"Some," Ali admitted.

"She wants to find him," Sarah said with a sigh. "We're in the middle of a huge argument about it. She wants to use the coin money to hire an investigator to find Cam and take out loans to help pay for her tuition. I refuse to do that. I've worked like a dog for these past nineteen years to support her and put money aside so that she wouldn't have to go into debt to get an education. If she does get into vet school, we'll need every penny we've squeezed out of those nickels and dollars you gave us."

Sarah's Cam was Cam Murphy, the great-something-grandson of two of Eternity Springs's founders, Daniel Murphy and Harry Cavanaugh, who was Ali's ancestor. Cam had been Eternity Springs's troublemaker, the bad boy whose relationship with good girl Sarah Reese remained secret to this day. Sent to juvenile detention for injuring someone in a fight, he'd never returned to Eternity Springs after his release. Sarah had blamed her pregnancy on a fling with a summer tourist, and except for Lori and a few close friends, the people of Eternity still believed the lie. Nic had told Ali that Sarah had never gotten over him.

"You know," she ventured, "it might not be that expensive to track him down. The Internet has made-"

"No," Sarah snapped. "To quote one of Gabe Callahan's favorite sayings, 'That way there be dragons.' "

Trying one more time, Ali said, "High school sweethearts can have powerful connections. First love and all."

Sarah deflected by asking, "Did you have a high school sweetheart?"

"Nope. Mac was my first love."

"Powerful connections," Sarah repeated, giving Ali a significant look. "You haven't talked about him, Ali, or what's going on with you. Nic and Sage would be amazed to hear me say this, but I won't pry. I will listen if you want to talk."

Ali stared moodily into her gla.s.s. "Thanks, but no. I don't even know what to say."

"Fair enough. Just remember, I'm here if you need me."

"Thanks, Sarah."

Later, while she walked back to Angel's Rest, Ali brooded about first loves. First love. Mac.

She was lonely tonight. She missed him. She missed them together.

When her cell rang and she saw Stephen's name, a warmth of love rushed through her. "h.e.l.lo, honey."

"Hey, Mom. Do you have a minute?"

"For you, anytime."

Five minutes later, she wished she'd left her cell phone at the Bristlecone. Stephen conferenced in his sister and the two of them explained that Chase had filled them in about seeing her painting yesterday. "With a bare-chested man!" Caitlin wailed.

Ali's children proceeded to explain that she was naive, vulnerable, and, to quote her eldest child, off her flippin' rocker. For crying out loud. Keeping tight control of her motions, Ali sought a calm tone as she said, "Zach Turner is my friend, Stephen. I'm allowed to have friends, even if they are male."

"But you have to be careful, Mom," Caitlin cautioned. "You're up there running around with cougars. You might just become one!"

"Excuse me?"

"A cougar. That's what they call older women who chase after younger men. Cougars on the prowl."

Ali lowered the phone from her ear and stared at it for a few seconds before saying, "For heaven's sake, Caitlin. Please."

"Mom, we know you're not up in the mountains chasing the sheriff," Stephen said, verbally stepping between mother and daughter. "It's just that if you're not careful, you might find yourself in a situation where you make poor decisions you'll come to regret."

Is it role reversal time or what?

"Thank you for your concern, but you need not worry. Thanks for calling, you two. I need to run. Goodnight."

She hung up without giving them the chance to say much more than good-bye. She continued her walk back to the carriage house trying not to obsess about the call from her kids. She wasn't aware that she'd begun to angrily kick at a stone until she ran across Sage's sister, Rose, on the grounds of the estate and Rose asked, "Ali? What's the matter?"

Ali stopped and looked up, filled with misery and heartache. "Ah, Rose. It's such a mess."

"The remodel going poorly? I'd heard you'd had some delays. My sister said she had a devil of a time getting work done when she remodeled her art gallery."

"Not the remodel," Ali corrected. "That's going fine. It's my life that's a mess."

"Oh, dear." Rose clicked her tongue and switched into comfort mode. "You look like a woman who needs a bit of girl talk." She looped her arm through Ali's. "Come upstairs and tell me about it."

Rose was a former army doctor and now the resident physician at Angel's Rest. After undergoing a hysterectomy as part of treatment for endometrial cancer, she had separated from the service and come to Eternity Springs to reconcile with Sage, from whom she'd been estranged. She'd fallen in love with both the town and the Angel's Rest suite she'd rented. Last winter, when the doctor Celeste had hired for the healing center decided he didn't like the mountains in winter after all, Rose accepted Celeste's offer of a job and the suite and became a permanent resident of Eternity Springs.

Now, as she led Ali up to her Angel's Rest apartment, Rose said, "I'll put the kettle on for tea, or I have wine."

"Don't go to any trouble."

"No trouble. Celeste often drops by this time of the evening and we have a nightcap together. Which would you prefer?"

"Do you have any chocolate? That's what I really need."

"I have an emergency stash of M&Ms. Will that do?"

Ali gave her a grateful smile. "Bless you."

Rose gestured for Ali to have a seat, and then she pulled a big bag of dark chocolate M&Ms from the back of her pantry. She poured the candies into a big ceramic bowl, then made an executive decision and opened a bottle of cabernet. Setting the bowl and a gla.s.s in front of Ali, she said, "Talk to me."

Ali rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I've hurt my family, and I hate that. Maybe I should just go home."

"Why don't you start at the beginning?"

After a moment's hesitation, Ali nodded. She talked about her husband, their separation, and how she'd decided she was done with the arctic winter of her marriage. She spoke of her guilt for having caused her children pain, and finished by saying, "I'm a bad mother. A bad wife."

"Why do you say that? Why does any of this make you a bad wife and mother?"

"Because I made the decision to make this huge change in my life, my husband's life, and my children's lives, and I can't articulate why."

Rose shook her head. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not a bad wife and mother. I think you're brave and honest."

"Because I left my husband? Left my family?"

Rose searched for the right words to convey the idea floating through her mind. "Because you won't settle for half. Not when you've had whole."

"That's what I tried to tell myself, but now I don't know." Ali sipped her wine and sighed glumly. "If Mac had offered half, I might have gone for that. Probably lots of wives only get s.e.x four or five times a month, and I'd think intimacy would have to burn off some of the frost, don't you?"

Rose gave her a startled look. "Wait a minute. You had s.e.x ten times a month? And you've been married twenty years?"

"Yeah. We made love two or three times a week for most of our marriage." Her wistful smile melted away when she added, "Then we stopped."

"Holy cow." Rose didn't know whether to be envious or tired at the thought. She liked s.e.x and she really, really wished she had someone to like it with, but wow. Three times a week?

Rose considered this new bit of information. Based on her knowledge of the human condition, the usual reason a couple's s.e.x life went south was because one of them began an affair. Ali must have seen the question in her gaze, because she shook her head. "It wasn't an affair. I was afraid that was the deal, but I finally asked him. He said no and I believe him. Mac doesn't lie."

Rose knew the polite thing would be to move the conversation on from Ali Timberlake's s.e.x life-or lack thereof. But the woman was obviously in the mood to talk, and this was all primo info. "Okay, this is a really nosy question and it's totally none of my business, and if you want to change the subject just say so, but since we're already talking personal, I have to ask. Was it something physical?" In fact, she was wondering if he'd worn it out.

"No." Ali sighed heavily. "That I could deal with. But watching him roll out of bed sporting a morning erection broke my heart and crushed my self-confidence."

Rose scooped up a half dozen yellow M&Ms. For some reason Ali had picked around the yellow ones. "So what did trigger the, um, cessation? Did you two have a big fight?"

"No. Not out loud, anyway." Ali rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. "We just ... I don't know ... we had this anger between us. I don't even know how it started, but at some point it became a living, breathing, freezing thing that lay right between us in the bed."

She paused a moment, then added, "Before Caitlin went off to college, I slogged my way through a few months of depression. I took antidepressants and that muted my s.e.x drive. But Mac knew the deal; he said he understood." She sighed heavily. "My s.e.x drive returned after I got off the pills, but by then the anger was there. I thought that if I was away from the hurt, I'd be able to figure everything out. I think it's been working, too. With the distance, I've started to relax. I've started to think about my life and about what I want to do with the rest of it. I needed this s.p.a.ce. I still need it."

"Then don't forget the bottom line. For your children to be happy, for your husband to be happy, you need to find your way back to happiness."

From the open doorway, Celeste said, "That is excellent advice. You should listen to Rose, Ali. She's a wonderful doctor."

"I'm not a psychologist," Rose warned.

"No, but you're a friend. A good friend. That's what Ali needs around her right now. She's spent half a lifetime being there for others. It's her turn now. Her time." She joined the other two women at the table, reached out, and gave Ali's hand a comforting squeeze. "Listen to your instincts, Ali. They won't let you down."

"I hope you're right, Celeste," she said with a sigh. "I do so hope you are right."

NINE.

July "Adjourned." Mac banged his gavel, rose from the bench, and exited the courtroom through the connecting door to his chambers. Striding down the small hallway past his clerk's office, he paused at the doorway to his administrative a.s.sistant's office and asked, "Anything that can't wait until Monday?"

"No, sir."

"Excellent. In that case, I'm gone." In his own office, he unzipped his robe and hung it on the antique coat tree Ali had found for him at a small shop in Colorado Springs. Loosening his tie, he took a seat at his desk and made a couple of quick notes to himself before checking his phone for messages. Good, nothing pressing.

He entered his private bathroom, where he changed into the sport shirt, jeans, and hiking boots he'd left there that morning. Five minutes later, he was out the door and headed for the garage, dialing the neighbors' house on the way.

"Hi, Donna," he said when the wife answered. "Thought I'd check on Gus before I hit the road."

"He's doing fine," she a.s.sured him. "Tim just left the house to take him on another walk. Both boy and dog are in heaven."

"Great. Thanks. I won't worry about him, then. Y'all have a good weekend and I'll see you on Sunday."

"You too, Mac," she replied. "Tell Ali we said h.e.l.lo."

Mac responded with a simple good-bye. He was on his way to Eternity Springs, but he wasn't at all certain what he would do once he arrived. He had not spoken to his wife since the night of the awards dinner two months ago. Since then, all their communication had taken place by text message, email, and one voice mail she'd left on the machine at home during a time when she had to have known he'd be at work.

For a while after Chase had called to inform him about Ali's new painting partner, Mac had told himself he didn't care what his wife did up in the mountains or whom she did it with. Once when he had a free weekend, he'd driven down to Colorado Springs to play golf with a colleague. Another weekend when he could have made the trip, he'd flown to California to visit Stephen instead.

After that, events in the Sandberg trial had gone nuclear and effectively tethered Mac to Denver. It wasn't until earlier this week, when he'd come entirely too close to doing something infinitely stupid, that he'd realized the situation had to change.

It had started out innocently enough. Carla Hubbard managed the little Italian restaurant Mac pa.s.sed on his way home from the office. After Ali had left him-taking her Italian-cooking talents with her-he began stopping there for dinner once or twice a week. Carla was a lovely woman, dark and slender, with a fondness for flirtation and necklines that plunged. A couple of times when business was slow, she'd joined him at his table, and over dinner he'd learned that she, too, was separated from her spouse. The commonality created a bond of sorts between them, and to be honest, Mac had enjoyed her attention. So when he'd stopped for spaghetti Tuesday night and found her on her way to an art show opening at a local gallery, he'd accepted her invitation to accompany her.

He'd enjoyed himself. The artist was talented, the hors d'oeuvres delicious, and the company both witty and good for his ego. She'd been dressed to kill, and s.e.xual awareness had hummed between them, adding an edge of danger to the event. She'd sent out signals a blind man wouldn't miss, and when he'd driven her home-she lived within walking distance of the restaurant-and she invited him in for a drink, he'd thought of Ali and their cold bed and her shirtless sheriff and decided, What the h.e.l.l. Why not?

Inside, Carla Hubbard had poured them each a scotch, tasted the drink and purred, then licked her lips with a slow, seductive sweep of her tongue. Mac accepted her third invitation of the evening and kissed her. She was as intoxicating as the scotch, and he lost himself in the pleasure of having a woman in his arms. Of holding her against him. Of the sweet, soft melting of her body against the hardness of his.

He'd groaned low in his throat, then reached a hand up to cup her breast, and it was ... different. It was wrong.

She wasn't Ali.

In that moment, bone-deep shame replaced desire. He'd released her, stepped away, made an awkward excuse, and fled the scene of the near-crime against his family. Because, separation or not, cold, empty bed or not, he was still married. It didn't matter what Ali did or did not do with her sheriff. He would not surrender the moral high ground in this war with his wife. He refused to do anything that would make looking his children in the eyes difficult. He was not a cheat.

Though he had come d.a.m.ned close.

It was during his drive home that night that he'd made up his mind to go to Eternity Springs. This limbo he'd been living in didn't work for him. Not any longer. Ali had asked for time, and he'd given it to her. She'd asked for s.p.a.ce, and he'd let her have that, too. Now it was her turn to accommodate him. He needed answers. He needed direction.

He needed to get laid.

She needed to help him with that, one way or another.

So he'd adjusted the court schedule, and now, finally, he was on his way. With the top down and hard rock blaring from the stereo, he downshifted the Porsche, gunned the engine, and began the climb into the front range west of Denver. Antic.i.p.ation hummed in his blood, and Mac wondered how Alison would like the surprise.