Read Online Bound by Honor by Donna Clayton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Donna Clayton
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puzzle pieces slipped, one at a time, into place. And the picture wasn't pretty. Everything Gage had done last night, everything he'd said about Lily — no, about babies in general, she now realized — suddenly took on new meaning.
"Gage —" she knew a frown marred her forehead "— you were a daddy."
She'd meant to speak in an inquiring manner, but she was so certain of his response that her observation came out sounding like a statement of fact.
He nodded, his chin dipping only once, the strain on his face tightening the muscles in his jaws.
She couldn't stop herself from asking, "Are you divorced, or —"
He shook his head. The magnitude of the implication was overwhelming. "A widower?" His head bobbed.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "I — I'm just so sorry. I didn't know. I had heard something about an accident. But I had no idea that you'd lost your wife. And child. Gage, I had no idea you'd lost your family. I honestly had no idea."
She was babbling. She also couldn't help the completely normal human curiosity that was hungry for details, but she didn't dare ask insensitive questions.
"Lily's still sleeping and we don't want to wake her." Gage lifted his hand to point to the door. "Let's go into the kitchen where we can talk."
Minutes later, they had refreshed their mugs of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. The bacon sat forgotten on the stove.
"I should apologize for not offering the use of the nursery before, but —"
"It's all right," she quickly assured him. "It's obviously a very private thing. I can understand why you'd want to keep the room . . . just so. It belonged to your child. If you'd rather Lily not be in there, I can buy a crib. I planned to buy one. I'll set it up in my room. We'll be fine."
Jenna fingered the white paper napkin she 'd set her mug on, desperate for some thing to say. "It just never occurred to me that I might be disturbing Lily's sleep. I mean, the bed is plenty big for both of us. And I put pillows around her, so she'd be safe."
Going on about Lily's sleeping arrangement felt wrong after what he'd just confessed, but she'd said she was sorry and couldn't think of another way to express her regret over his situation.
"Don't beat yourself up about it. How could you know?"
Silence fell. Before the moment could become too awkward, Jenna said, "I'm serious, Gage. I can buy a crib."
He shook his head. "It took me some time to get used to the idea. But it's for the best. Lily needs a place of her own to sleep. It's silly to let the crib, the furniture, the toys just sit there when they're needed."
Again the room was still, and Jenna's unasked questions about the accident somersaulted like clowns in a circus in her mind. She did her best not to voice the questions, but it sure wasn't easy. If Gage wanted to talk, he'd talk. If he didn't, it was his right to keep his story to himself.
He'd told her plainly how he felt early on. He'd agreed to help her with her problem. He hadn't agreed to open up his life to her.
Just when it seemed that he intended to keep his private life private, he set his mug down on the table and sighed.
"It was a car accident." His gaze locked on something across the room, while his thumb smoothed the ceramic handle of his coffee mug. "Mary Lynn, my wife, was driving our sedan. I was in the passenger seat. Our daughter, Skye, was in her car seat in the back."
He paused, every muscle in his body strained. After he swallowed, he quietly continued, "It was a beautiful, sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. We weren't traveling at an excessive speed. There was absolutely no reason to suspect that our trip home from a day of shopping in Billings would turn into the worst nightmare of my life."
Jenna sat still and breathless. She knew firsthand what heartache and devastation a c ar accident could bring. A split second could forever change lives and alter the future.
"I still can't say what kind of animal it was," he said. "A mink. A weasel. A muskrat. All I
"Gage —" she knew a frown marred her forehead "— you were a daddy."
She'd meant to speak in an inquiring manner, but she was so certain of his response that her observation came out sounding like a statement of fact.
He nodded, his chin dipping only once, the strain on his face tightening the muscles in his jaws.
She couldn't stop herself from asking, "Are you divorced, or —"
He shook his head. The magnitude of the implication was overwhelming. "A widower?" His head bobbed.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "I — I'm just so sorry. I didn't know. I had heard something about an accident. But I had no idea that you'd lost your wife. And child. Gage, I had no idea you'd lost your family. I honestly had no idea."
She was babbling. She also couldn't help the completely normal human curiosity that was hungry for details, but she didn't dare ask insensitive questions.
"Lily's still sleeping and we don't want to wake her." Gage lifted his hand to point to the door. "Let's go into the kitchen where we can talk."
Minutes later, they had refreshed their mugs of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. The bacon sat forgotten on the stove.
"I should apologize for not offering the use of the nursery before, but —"
"It's all right," she quickly assured him. "It's obviously a very private thing. I can understand why you'd want to keep the room . . . just so. It belonged to your child. If you'd rather Lily not be in there, I can buy a crib. I planned to buy one. I'll set it up in my room. We'll be fine."
Jenna fingered the white paper napkin she 'd set her mug on, desperate for some thing to say. "It just never occurred to me that I might be disturbing Lily's sleep. I mean, the bed is plenty big for both of us. And I put pillows around her, so she'd be safe."
Going on about Lily's sleeping arrangement felt wrong after what he'd just confessed, but she'd said she was sorry and couldn't think of another way to express her regret over his situation.
"Don't beat yourself up about it. How could you know?"
Silence fell. Before the moment could become too awkward, Jenna said, "I'm serious, Gage. I can buy a crib."
He shook his head. "It took me some time to get used to the idea. But it's for the best. Lily needs a place of her own to sleep. It's silly to let the crib, the furniture, the toys just sit there when they're needed."
Again the room was still, and Jenna's unasked questions about the accident somersaulted like clowns in a circus in her mind. She did her best not to voice the questions, but it sure wasn't easy. If Gage wanted to talk, he'd talk. If he didn't, it was his right to keep his story to himself.
He'd told her plainly how he felt early on. He'd agreed to help her with her problem. He hadn't agreed to open up his life to her.
Just when it seemed that he intended to keep his private life private, he set his mug down on the table and sighed.
"It was a car accident." His gaze locked on something across the room, while his thumb smoothed the ceramic handle of his coffee mug. "Mary Lynn, my wife, was driving our sedan. I was in the passenger seat. Our daughter, Skye, was in her car seat in the back."
He paused, every muscle in his body strained. After he swallowed, he quietly continued, "It was a beautiful, sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. We weren't traveling at an excessive speed. There was absolutely no reason to suspect that our trip home from a day of shopping in Billings would turn into the worst nightmare of my life."
Jenna sat still and breathless. She knew firsthand what heartache and devastation a c ar accident could bring. A split second could forever change lives and alter the future.
"I still can't say what kind of animal it was," he said. "A mink. A weasel. A muskrat. All I
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