The Wife He Chose

His part in his brother’s lie made him feel sick. He’d easily believed Craig’s story about Colleen’s wishes after her sister’s death, so he’d not bothered to find out the truth for himself. He hadn’t known enough about her to question it. He’d based his opinion of her on his opinion of Sharon.

And even he had resented that Colleen had become such a frequent refuge for Sharon. It shamed him to realize that they’d left her lying in a hospital for months, severely injured and grieving her sister, with no family left to console or care for her. He and Craig had virtually abandoned her, and the remorse he felt for that pressed heavily on his conscience.

At least he’d done something to turn things around today. Finally. After he’d gotten answers from Beau, he’d explained to the boy that his daddy was wrong, the wreck had been an accident caused by someone else. And because Colleen hadn’t hurt their mother, she wasn’t at fault for the hurt to him and Amy.

As usual, he wasn’t certain he’d explained things well enough to the boy. Beau wouldn’t turn four for another few months, and though he was very bright, he was still a little boy.

He’d finally sent Beau out to play with the gentle encouragement to think about his aunt and see what he could remember about her.

After every one of Sharon’s frequent trips to San Antonio with the kids, Beau had come home full of happy stories about the things they’d done with Colleen, so the boy couldn’t have forgotten those. Those times, Cade had listened to Beau with only half an ear, more interested in the kid than in the aunt. But today changed all that. If Beau could remember, the problem would be solved.

He heard Doc Amado come down the hall outside his office. Cade turned from the patio doors, relieved to see the doctor’s calm smile, and eager to hear whatever doctor/patient privilege didn’t prohibit.

Colleen got her handbag and checkbook from the sofa, then found her cane on the table in the entry hall. By the time she stepped out of the house, her tired body felt as if she’d been beaten.

She saw the car that must belong to Dr. Amado, and carefully managed to walk to her rental. Once she opened the door and got in to put her seatbelt on, she was weary beyond belief.

Summoning strength from somewhere, she started the car and put it into gear to head down the long gravel drive to the highway. Because she was overtired, the ride to the motel seemed even more harrowing and exhausting than the trip from San Antonio, and it seemed to take forever to get there.

She was grateful when the desk clerk helped her carry her overnight case into the ground-floor motel room he’d rented to her. Once she dug out a tip and handed it over, she didn’t have enough energy to even undress. As soon as the clerk stepped into the hall and closed the door, she dragged down the coverlet and crawled painfully into bed.

Cade stood by impatiently as he waited for the desk clerk to unlock the door to Colleen’s room. They’d tried pounding on the door twice, but there’d been no response and Cade pictured one grim scenario after another.

Colleen had slipped out of the house and he hadn’t noticed until he’d gone to her room almost two hours later to look in on her. When Dr. Amado left his office to start back to town, Cade had gone out to be with the kids, never thinking Colleen wouldn’t be resting as the doctor had ordered.

The doctor had probably figured the same thing, and hadn’t realized the significance of her missing rental car. He might have assumed Cade had someone move it to the garage.

At last the door was open and the light was on. Colleen lay on the bed only partially covered, but still in her clothes. Her athletic shoes were still on her small feet, as if she’d either been too weary or too insensible to take them off. He could see from where he stood just inside the door with the clerk that she was breathing normally. He handed the clerk a large bill to both thank him and get rid of him.

“Thank you, Mr. Chalmers. You think she’s okay? Does she need an ambulance?”

“I don’t think so, Ronnie.” He glanced at the kid. “I’ll take it from here, thanks.”

The clerk got the message and left. Cade looked over at Colleen and walked to the bed.

One strip of Velcro on her shoes had pulled loose and was now stuck to the edge of the light blanket beneath the coverlet. The mussed bedding was evidence that Colleen might have been restless with pain, but too exhausted to fully wake up.

He reached down for the small sneakered foot that had got Velcroed to the blanket. He peeled open the other shoe tabs and took the shoe off. The other shoe came off just as quickly and he tossed both aside before he bent over her to straighten the covers.

It struck him that she slept like the kids, when they ran out of steam before a nap and fell instantly asleep wherever they were, still in their play clothes. The similarity made him feel tender toward her.

He remembered her look of confusion before she’d pulled out her checkbook and offered to write him a deposit check for a professional evaluation of her. She’d been as guileless as a child and clearly oblivious to his question about money. Instinct told him she hadn’t faked a second of it. He was still taken aback by that, but it fit with the way she suddenly reminded him of the kids.

Cade didn’t know how she should lie to minimize her discomfort, so he didn’t dare move her. She was now half on her left side, half on her stomach, and maybe she had some comfort in that position because she didn’t so much as twitch. Just like Beau and Amy when they were heavily asleep.

He hated to leave her alone here, but he had no right to take her back to the ranch when she desperately needed rest. His gaze caught on the car rental key next to the lamp on the bed table. He found a sheet of motel stationery in a drawer and scrawled a note that he propped up on the counter by the sink in the bathroom.

Cade took a last look at Colleen and decided she was sleeping naturally. Since she seemed to be all right, he couldn’t justify lingering. He had to get back to the kids so Esmerelda could go to a family wedding shower. The nanny wouldn’t be home tonight until long after the kids’ bedtime.

And though he was aware he’d trespassed on Colleen’s privacy, it made him uneasy to leave her. At least he’d solved the problem of her starting for San Antonio in the morning before he could get back here to talk to her. And that didn’t make him uneasy at all.

Muscle spasms brought Colleen awake that next morning. The battle was always to get out of bed and walk off the pain before the spasms worsened. If not for the pain, she might have lain in bed hours longer because waking up meant she had to face another hard, disappointing day.

Remembering what had happened with little Beau made this day stretch impossibly long before her. How many more difficult, joyless days could she face? So far they’d been a test of endurance as she’d slowly worked toward her goal.

But now the goal that had drawn her on when she was most discouraged and hurting, had been lost. She had to find a way to move forward without it, to fix something else in her mind that held the promise of home or belonging.

The world was a lonely, unloving place. She was a lonely woman with no one to love and no purpose beyond herself. Surely there was some way to connect, someone or some cause to pour herself into. But she was no good to anyone like this and it might be a long time before she was recovered enough to have anything of value to offer others.

Perhaps she’d take a few college classes in the fall. The trucking company whose driver was responsible for the crash had made a very substantial settlement offer to avoid going to court. She hadn’t accepted it yet, since she wanted to be certain it was enough to cover ongoing medical care. And she wasn’t yet certain of the level of permanent disability she’d have to cope with, or whether she’d need more education to do another job.

She’d worked as a bookkeeper, but so far, she hadn’t been released to go back to the office. And she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to do the job now. Recovering her math skills had been frustratingly slow because of her head injury. She couldn’t even reconcile her checkbook yet and sometimes she despaired of ever again making consistent sense of complicated math calculations.

It made her worry that she’d fail the college courses. Her confidence was shaky and she was still too fragile to face the challenge of retraining for a new job or learning something new.

Colleen leaned heavily on her cane and braced her weaker right hand against the wall, then along the desk and armoire as she walked painfully up and down the room to stop the spasms and reclaim some semblance of supple movement before she tried to undress and take a shower.

When she at last was able to walk into the bathroom, she caught sight of the note propped up beside the sink.

She instantly recognized the handwriting she’d never seen before only because it so clearly indicated the forceful personality of the man who’d written it.

I’ll return your keys at breakfast. Cade.

The peculiar sensation that went through her sent a tingle over her skin. Cade Chalmers had been in her room and she’d never known it. He’d come after her and taken something of hers hostage to enforce his will.

Colleen stared at the note. The sheer novelty of Cade’s minor pursuit was dangerous for someone like her. She’d moved in and out of the lives of most of the people around her all her life and was accustomed to the indifference of those who neither objected to her presence nor seemed particularly bothered by her absence. She was not a woman who tried to be noticed, either by her entrances or her exits or in her daily life, and she was too unremarkable to believe that would ever change, though she sometimes fantasized that it might.

Sharon had attracted all the attention there was to be had for the James sisters, and lackluster Colleen had existed at the edge of her sister’s beauty and sparkling personality without a single resentment or second thought.

Not that she hadn’t wished that, just once, someone would notice her and single her out for the attention Sharon received as naturally as air and sunshine.

Cade’s intention to keep her from leaving and this note were hardly a fulfillment of that silly, secret wish, but it was a nice surprise to have a small taste of what it might be like.

Suddenly annoyed with herself, Colleen set the note aside. It was more likely that she’d angered him by slipping away from the ranch. He was too domineering and probably too controlling to tolerate a nobody like her sidestepping his wishes.

And nothing could have happened to explain or resolve Beau’s feelings toward her this soon. It was even possible that Cade would have her investigated for child abuse. His taking her car keys had to be the result of his decision to either start the wheels in motion for that or to officially issue a stern edict to her in person that would forever forbid her access to Beau and Amy.

Suddenly so disheartened and depressed that she could barely move, Colleen had to force herself to shower and dress to prepare for a new disaster.

CHAPTER THREE

CADE knocked briskly on the motel room door and waited. When Colleen opened it, she looked flustered and not ready for company. She’d showered and dressed and put on a touch of makeup, but her rapidly drying hair was proof she hadn’t tamed it yet. As he’d suspected, without some kind of hair goo, her hair stood straight out all over her head just like Beau’s and Amy’s had as babies before it got long enough to lie flat.

Obviously, a night’s sleep had done her good. She looked fresher than she had yesterday, though there was still a pained weariness about her and he couldn’t have missed the anxiety in her eyes.

She didn’t greet him and he said nothing to her, but she stepped back and he walked into the room. He could feel her uncertainty, her wariness, and he got the impression that she was terrified of being further hurt and traumatized.

“H-how are Beau and Amy?”