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The thought stopped him cold. Asking the next question could throw fuel on the conflict fire, but he had to know. “Are you on the Pill?”
“No. I haven’t had any need for birth control.”
Damn. Exactly what he’d feared. “How much of a risk did we just take?”
When he felt the mattress bend, he opened his eyes to see Rachel seated on the edge of the bed, putting on a robe. “You mean could I get pregnant?”
“Yeah. Is it possible?”
She stood, faced him and cinched the sash tightly around her waist. “Now, wouldn’t that just thrill you, Matthew?”
He couldn’t ignore her sarcastic tone or cynical look. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means,” she said. “You’ve never wanted any kids.”
He worked his jeans back into place and came to his feet. “I never said that.” Even if he had thought it at one time.
She crossed the room and took a seat on the frilly blue floral chair in the corner. “Maybe you never said you didn’t want a child in so many words, but your excuses have sent the message, loud and clear. First we couldn’t have a baby until after you finished vet school. Then it was establishing the practice and building the new clinic and finally the house. After that, you ran out of excuses—”
“And you got pregnant anyway.”
“Not by your choice. Sometimes I wonder if you’re relieved that you don’t have to worry about being a father anymore.”
Her accusation hit him with the force of a left hook. If she only knew what he’d been through when she’d given birth to their son, she wouldn’t be so quick to judge. But if he revealed the truth, provided any details, she’d hate him for the decision he’d made. “Nice to know you have such a damn low opinion of me. I never wanted anything to happen to the baby, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Caleb,” she said, her frame as stiff as a two-by-four. “His name is Caleb.”
She didn’t have to remind him of that. He’d chosen the name from her list of prospects. He wanted to move past this topic before he made a few confessions that would serve no purpose now. “What happened to us was unthinkable, but we have to move on. Otherwise we’ll never get over it.”
She leveled her dark eyes on him. “Maybe you can get over it, but I never will. I carried him in my belly for seven months. I felt him kick. He was a part of me. A part of us.”
They’d covered this territory before, and each time the rift between them got a little bit wider. He’d rather focus on the step they’d taken only minutes ago. A step in the right direction. “Look, Rachel, I know we’ve got a lot more ground to cover, and if you’ll let me stay, we can talk about this again in the morning when we’ve both had a good night’s sleep.”
She rose from the chair, looking every bit the regal princess her father had insisted she was. “You’re right. I’m too tired to continue this. But you can’t stay the night.”
She could be pretty pigheaded at times—not that he’d let that deter him. “I’m your husband, dammit, and if what we did a little while ago doesn’t prove there’s still something between us, something worth fighting for, then I don’t know what does.”
“It was sex, Matthew. Sex alone does not a good marriage make.”
He released a sarcastic laugh. “I thought we were making love. But then again, maybe you don’t love me anymore.”
Her gaze momentarily faltered before she brought it back to him. “As they say, love isn’t always enough.”
“I don’t care what anyone says. We belong together.” Hell, he sounded almost desperate. Probably because he was. “What can I do to convince you of that?”
“You could start by agreeing to marriage counseling or at the very least go with me to the grief-support group on Monday nights in Trimble Oaks.”
That was asking too much. “I’m not like you, Rachel. I can’t spill my guts to anyone who’s willing to listen. You knew that when you married me. How I handle my emotions is my business and no one else’s.”
She sighed. “I realize everyone grieves differently, but you don’t seem to be dealing with your grief at all, and that includes grieving for your mother. Talking about your feelings is the only way you’ll ever come to terms with loss.”
Another sad subject he didn’t want to address. “My father talks about my mother all the time, even after eighteen years, and look where he is now. Living alone and unable to work because he’s drinking himself into an early grave.”
“Lately all signs point to you heading right down the same path, Matt.”
Overcome with searing anger, he snatched his shirt from the floor and yanked it over his head. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
He headed out of the bedroom and opened the French doors with so much force, he rattled the glass. After he stepped onto the deck, the porch light came on and he glanced behind him to find Rachel standing in the doorway, looking as frustrated as he felt. He stopped and turned to present his ultimatum. “The ball’s in your court now. As soon as you decide what you want, give me a call. Until that time comes, I won’t bother you again.”
With that, he strode back down the path leading to the gate, only managing a few steps before Rachel called his name. He almost kept going, but die-hard habits brought him around to face her again. “What?”
She lowered her eyes. “I already know what I want.”
Her somber tone told him he might not want to hear it. “Then tell me, Rachel, because I swear to God, I don’t know anymore.”
Finally she brought her attention back to him, her dark eyes again filled with tears. “I want a divorce.”
Those were fightin’ words, and he wasn’t ready to wave that white flag just yet. “Well, princess, here’s a first. You just might not get what you want.”
CHAPTER THREE
“ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY SURE you want to do this?”
Rachel regarded Savannah from across the mahogany desk, on the verge of saying no and leaving the law office immediately. But her inability to resolve her marital problems kept her planted in the chair. “I’m not sure about much of anything these days. I only know I have to do something.”
Savannah leaned forward, her hands laced together atop the desk, looking every inch the serious, successful attorney. “Does Matt even know you’re contemplating a divorce?”
“I told him I wanted a divorce two weeks ago,” she said. “He came by the night we all got together at the pond, shortly after you and Jess dropped me off.”
“And his response was?”
“He said that I might not get what I want. But I haven’t heard a word from him since, so maybe he’s accepted it.” And that made her incredibly sad. She’d expected an ongoing battle, more effort to win her over. Perhaps he didn’t see any reason to fight. Perhaps he was right.
Savannah straightened a few files and set them aside. “First of all, I can’t represent you in a divorce.”
Not the news Rachel wanted to hear. “I thought you decided to practice general law, not just corporate law, when you moved here from Chicago.”
“I did, and I am, and that unfortunately includes the occasional divorce. But you and Matt are my friends, and if I represented you, I’d be taking sides. I won’t do that.”
Savannah’s loyalty didn’t exactly surprise Rachel. It did disappoint her. “What if Matt agrees to the divorce and it’s only a matter of filing the appropriate paperwork?”
“That would depend on whether you and Matt can equitably divide your assets on your own. That’s going to be impossible if he isn’t on board with it.”
The assets wouldn’t be a problem, at least as far as she was concerned. “I don’t plan to ask him for much of anything. He can have the house and the clinic. I have my own money.”
“Have you thought about calling him and discussing this?” Savannah asked. “Better still, you should consider meeting with him face-to-face.”
The last time they were face-to-face, they’d ended up body-to-body. She couldn’t let Matt sweep her off her feet and back into bed again. “The thought of seeing him is too painful. We keep going around and around and we never seem to get anywhere.”
“Do you still love him, Rachel?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitating. “But that can’t be all there is to it. I wish it could be.”
Savannah sighed. “I’m getting married in less than a month and I’m watching the most solid couple I know fall apart. If your marriage isn’t going to last, I wonder if the rest of us stand a chance.”
She reached across the desk and patted Savannah’s hand. “If you and Sam didn’t fall out of love after being apart well over a decade, then you’re meant to be together.”
“I hope you’re right.”
So did Rachel. “And I hope you’ll agree to my next request.”
Savannah narrowed her eyes. “Something tells me I might not care for it.”
Probably not, but she had to ask. “Would you at least file the papers and have Matt served? Maybe then he’ll realize I’m serious.”
Savannah frowned. “Are you using this as some sort of a wake-up call?”
“I suppose you could say that. If he’s not willing to work on our marriage after he has the proof in hand, then I’ll go ahead with the divorce.”
“Let me just caution you, Rachel. When you bandy about the word divorce, it’s always going to be hanging out there. You can’t take it back, even if you and Matt decide to reconcile.”
A chance she would have to take. Matt might be too stubborn and had too much pride to agree to her terms for reconciliation. He didn’t believe he had a drinking problem, nixed counseling altogether and he couldn’t commit to having another child. “I realize this is extreme, but he hasn’t given me much choice.”
“I still can’t represent you,” Savannah said after a brief pause. “But I will agree to file the preliminary documents, as long as you are absolutely positive this is the right thing to do.”
Right, maybe not. Necessary, definitely. “I’m as sure as I can be. It’s do-or-die time for Matt.”
Savannah removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “All right. As soon as I have the paperwork finished, I’ll call you in to sign the forms. I should have everything completed by this afternoon, and I’ll have them served to Matt on Friday.”
Only two days away. She hadn’t expected it to be so quick. “There’s no waiting period in terms of how long we’ve been separated?”
“There’s no statutory requirement in this state that requires you to be separated at all prior to filing for divorce. And since you have been apart for a few weeks, I’m going to assume you haven’t done the deed. And if you haven’t done the deed, then there’s no reason to believe you’ll be involving a child.”
Rachel couldn’t issue a denial, nor could she look at her friend.
“Rachel? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
She shrugged. “Matt and I did have a little post-separation sex, so I suppose it’s possible I could be pregnant, but not very likely.”
Savannah’s mouth momentarily dropped open. “When did this happen?”
She felt like an errant teenage girl who’d gotten caught parking with her boyfriend. “The night I asked him for the divorce.”
“And if you are pregnant, when do you plan to tell him?” When Rachel again failed to respond, Savannah added, “You would tell him, right?”
“I don’t know what I would do.” And she truly didn’t. “But I don’t see any reason to borrow trouble right now. There probably won’t be anything to tell.”
“I have something else I want to ask you.” Savannah tapped a pen on the desk in rapid succession before putting it down. “Do you remember that night we got together at Rudy’s, not long after I came back to town?”
How could she forget? That was the night she’d made the pregnancy announcement to her friends. “I remember it well.”
“You said something that’s been bugging me for almost a year. You said you decided to get pregnant, not we decided. I’ve wondered if you took matters into your own hands.”
That secret had been a burden she’d carried for months. One burden she’d like to ease among all the others. “I might have forgotten to take a pill or two.”
“Forgotten?”
“Okay, I intentionally forgot to take them. I thought that if I let nature take its course and I got pregnant, he’d get used to the idea. I even hoped he’d be happy about it.” And she had been so very, very wrong.
“But Matt still doesn’t know it wasn’t an accident?”
“What would be the point, Savannah? It’s done. I got pregnant and I lost my baby.” Logical or not, she’d worried that losing Caleb was some sort of karmic punishment for deceiving her baby’s father.
“But Matt knows you aren’t on the Pill this time,” Savannah said.
“Yes, he knows.” His reaction was still fresh on her mind. “And that’s part of the problem when it comes to our marriage. I want another baby, and he doesn’t. In fact, I’ll never know if he really wanted Caleb.”
“Of course he wanted him, Rachel. Matt’s a good man.”
A good man who had no desire to be a father. “None of that matters now. I have to focus on the future, with or without him.”
“And you’re prepared for a future without him?”
She might never be prepared for that, even if she was capable of making it on her own. “Let’s just take it one step at a time and file the papers. I’ll decide what I’m going to do after that.”
Yet her biggest concern involved Matt and his reaction when he learned what she had done. She would simply hope for the best—and expect the very worst.
* * *
“HEY, MATT, ARE YOU in here?”
The question echoed down the barn aisle at the same time he slid the needle into the mare’s neck. Startled more by the voice than the injection, she tossed her head and sidestepped to the left, nearly throwing Matt off balance. Only years of experience and well-honed skill saved him from going down and being trampled by a skittish horse. A pregnant skittish horse. Being put out of commission was the last thing he needed. Right now, his job happened to be the only thing keeping his mind off his problems.
He managed to calm the mare enough to withdraw the needle, keeping a firm grip on the halter with his free hand in case she decided to bolt again. Fortunately the hay bag gained her attention just as his friend showed up outside the stall.
“Got a minute?” Chase asked.
The question irritated Matt to no end. Then again, everything irritated him these days. He capped the needle, opened the stall door and set the syringe down on the supply cart until he could properly dispose of it. “A minute’s about all I have. I’ve got to get out to the Bailey farm and vaccinate some heifers.”
Chase peered into the stall at the mare. “Nice little bay. Who does she belong to?”
“Sam. She’s bred to his stud and due to foal in the next few weeks.”
“I thought Sam stopped breeding that old stud a few years ago.”
He really didn’t care to get into this right now. “This one’s going to be the last in the line, and Rachel’s birthday present. If my wife ever comes home. I’m not sure that’s going to happen.”
“You could be right about that.”
