Do you take this rebel - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,71
was still not the home she had envisioned. It was bright and airy. Her kitchen was amazing. The fireplaces turned even the spacious rooms into cozy refuges from the increasingly bitter weather of fall. They had already had one blizzard, and another was predicted before the end of the week. The snow was deep at the higher elevations, but here in Winding River it had melted rapidly, leaving mud and gloom in its wake. It was only the beginning of November, and already she was dreading being closed up indoors with a man who retreated into moody silences more nights than not.
But Cole, despite the fact that he was reluctantly sharing her bed, still kept a part of himself distant. They made love—sometimes sweet, tender love, sometimes wild, passionate love—but there was little joy in it.
Still, Cassie couldn’t deny herself the one form of communication that Cole allowed. Nor could she regret what had happened because of it. They were going to have a baby. She’d planned to tell him when he got back from his business trip, though she had no idea how he would take the news.
Once in a long while she caught a glimmer of the old Cole, the man who had shared everything with her, the man who had trusted her with his most private thoughts. Other times it was like living with a stranger. Which, she wondered, would surface when she made her announcement?
A lot depended on that, because slowly but surely their current circumstances were draining the life out of her. She had to do something to fix it, but she was out of ideas. It wasn’t possible to force someone to forgive, much less forget. Time, the great healer, wasn’t working. And a baby couldn’t be expected to save a faltering marriage.
Cole’s father was no help at all. He reserved most of his snide comments for the times when the two of them were alone. Cassie usually managed to let them roll off her back. Fighting with Frank Davis was a waste of energy, at least over something as inconsequential as a few pointed remarks.
His attempts to turn Jake against her were something else entirely. She wasn’t sure when she’d first realized that was what he was doing, but lately he’d stepped up the campaign.
Today Frank dropped Jake off at the end of the drive after a riding lesson at the Double D. Jake came into the kitchen with a sullen expression, uttered no greeting at all and started to walk straight past her. The show of belligerence, more and more frequent after he’d been with his grandfather, was the final straw.
“Hey, what’s with the long face?” Cassie asked.
His reply was mumbled. He kept right on walking.
“Jake Collins, get back here.”
He faced her with a dark look. “I’m not a Collins. I’m a Davis. Someday I’m going to own Grandpa’s ranch.”
He said it as if he expected her to challenge the claim. “I imagine that’s true, if it turns out to be what you want. As for whether you’re a Collins or a Davis, you were born with my name. If you’d like to think about legally changing that to Davis, I’ll speak to your father.”
Having Cole legally acknowledge Jake as his son was something they should have discussed, she realized. In fact, she was somewhat surprised that Cole hadn’t insisted on it. Obviously, his failure to do so was grating on his father’s nerves. Frank had clearly started planting the seeds in Jake’s head to get the ball rolling. Right or wrong, he was manipulating her son, just as he’d tried to do with Cole for years. She didn’t like it.
Jake stared at her, clearly surprised by her offer. “You will?”
“Of course.”
“Grandpa said you wouldn’t. He said you were probably trying to keep me from being a Davis.”
Cassie barely resisted the urge to tell Jake precisely what she thought of his grandfather. “That’s not true,” she said instead, keeping her tone mild. “To be honest, your father and I simply haven’t talked about it, but we will. I promise.”
Jake studied her intently for a long moment, his expression troubled. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Are you and Dad gonna get a divorce?”
Cassie was stunned by the question. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Grandpa said you probably would and then I would live with Dad.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Her temper shot into the stratosphere. If Frank had been around, she might very well have clobbered him over the head with a cast-iron