Over Nikolaus' shoulder, he met Rain Shadow's shimmering gaze. He reached her in a second, pulling her and Slade into his embrace. The four of them hugged one another in consolation, comfort and love.
Thank you, Lord, Anton breathed, but his relief was marred by the disturbing remembrance of his father. Lord, let Pa be all right.
Chapter Sixteen
"Pa! Pa, wait up!" Nikolaus raced beside his father, stumbling against his thigh and panting. "You made me run my breath off!"
"I did, huh?" Anton steadied his son and resumed his walk. "D'juh get your chores done?"
"Yep." Nikolaus plucked a stick from the ground and flung it in typical little-boy fashion. "There's new kittens in the barn."
"Uh-huh."
Nikolaus studied his father's preoccupied expression and fell into step at his side, futilely attempting to match his much longer strides. Beneath their boots, the meadow grass squished, sodden from the early spring thaw. "You miss them, too, don't you?"
"What?"
Nikolaus gave an exasperated huff. "Pa, you don't pay me no mind when I talk."
Anton halted his step and faced his son, those last words sinking in. Hang it, what was he doing?
He'd been in a constant state of denial for the past two months since-a shadow passed over his heart-ever since she'd left.
Eyes as blue as the soon-to-be clematis by the back porch stared at him. He reached out and ran a hand through Nikolaus' wind-ruffled hair, slid his palm to the baby-soft cheek. He loved this boy more than life itself, yet he'd been so absorbed in avoiding his own inner turmoil that he'd ignored him. He'd neglected his most precious gift from God. With an unbearable ache weighting his heart, he fell to his knees on the spongy sod and pulled his son against his chest.
"I'm sorry, Nikolaus." Anton kissed his ear and laid his cheek against his silken hair. "I'm so sorry."
Sturdy little arms wrapped forgivingly around Anton's neck. "It's okay." Father and child remained that way for several emotion-filled minutes. "I know you're lonesome, Pa. Me, too. I wish they never had to go back to the show. I wish they could have stayed here and been our family like before."
The thick ache in Anton's chest stretched thin and hung slack like pulled taffy. What had he been thinking of to allow his son to become attached to Slade? From the beginning, he'd known what an enormous mistake that friendship would be. She'd never meant to stay. Never intended for their farm to be anything more than a place for Slade to recover. Hadn't wanted to stay in the first place. It had all been his doing.
He'd brought Slade home. He'd convinced her of the wisdom of leaving him here. He'd coaxed her to dances, dared her to make herself useful and eventually talked her into marrying him. Marrying him.
He still couldn't erase the memory of her face the night he'd made his final blunder, the night she'd told him of her plans to leave
"There's no reason to stay. Slade and I are safe now. Your father is getting around as good as new after his bump on the head. The longer we allow this to go on, the more difficult it will be for the boys to say goodbye."
The boys, it had been then. The boys, it had always been. Not a word about her-about them. A horse might as well have kicked him in the chest. "What about Christmas?" he'd blurted.
She paused in folding a shirt and stared at him.
He glanced up from the tiny watch parts on the tabletop. It was getting harder and harder to tell himself not to care.
"Christmas?" she asked.
Abruptly, he returned his attention to the timepiece. He had his pride, after all. "We all assumed you and Slade would be with us for the holidays. The boys have been working on their gifts. You can wait until after, can't you?"
Silence.
From the corner of his eye he saw her rest one slender hand on the scarred table. He remembered what the two of them had done on this table and felt himself stir. He hadn't touched her since the night they'd lain on the cold winter ground and taken comfort in one another's arms.
Apparently, she remembered, too, because her next word had a throaty quality. "Anton."
He looked up.
She was beautiful. Eyes as dark and all-consuming as a moonless midnight, hair soft and fragrant and curling ever so gently around her perfect face. Her glistening lips quivered just enough to arrest his attention. They were kissable lips, lips that made a man imagine all kinds of things. His thoughts shocked him, and self-directed anger knotted his stomach.
What the devil was he thinking about her day and night for? He'd taken this path once before, and he wasn't about to set off on another hell ride into lunacy over a woman. Okay, so she set his blood on fire and thrummed every last lick of good sense from his brain-
He tugged his gaze from her face and stared at her hand on the table. He'd planned on scratching the itch and having it over once and for all. Satisfy this mindless craving and have it behind him, hadn't that been the plan? Her departure shouldn't tie him in knots because he'd seen it coming all along. Why couldn't he just say goodbye?
"I haven't known quite how to ask you this." She set aside a small pile of clean clothing and perched on the chair to his left. He had to face her or miss her words. "What will happen now that-that the terms of our-arrangement-are changed?"
Her flawless honey-hued skin darkened in a deep blush.
"What do you mean?" Anton asked, deliberately forcing her to say the words.
"Will you still have our marriage annulled?" Her skin flamed, but she faced him determinedly.
Slowly, Anton removed his spectacles. "That arrangement was broken, wasn't it?" he asked, hating himself.
"Couldn't you..." Her voice trailed off.
Why was he making this more difficult for her? He stared back. "Lie?"
Her gaze skittered away, but he waited, forcing its return. "What other choice do we have?"
"We could go to the lawyer. That'd be expensive and take a lot of time." He placed his spectacles on the table. Maybe if he just bought a little more time. "Or we could stay married."
Her expression was one of pure bafflement. "Why?"
"Have you considered the possibility that you might be pregnant?"
Her lips parted, but no words came out. The high color in her face only minutes before drained. "I did think of that, Anton. I'm raising one child by myself. I could care for another just as well." Her chin lifted defiantly. "It's not what I'd want, of course, but it probably isn't going to happen anyway."
"How long until we know for sure?" he asked.
"Two weeks, I'd say." He could tell she wanted to say more, but she held his gaze silently.
There. Two weeks. Two weeks, and she'd have no reason to stay. Some sick gut reaction spoke through him. "There's another matter." He leaned back in his chair. "Those papers you signed when you married me made Slade my son-legally. I don't take that lightly."
Her face paled even more. "You wouldn't." She stood, angrily. "You wouldn't try to take my son from me."
Anton's heart pounded like man possessed. Don't hurt her, you idiot. "Of course not. Sit down." He waited until she obeyed. "I married you to protect Slade because I care about him."
"You don't have to tell me why you married me."
"Will you listen? The arrangement was made for Slade. I cared about him enough to take that responsibility. I still care about him. I want to-to see him-to be a part of his life." Was that it? Was that all?
A deep sadness welled within the depths of her lovely eyes. "Anton, how can that be?"
"He could stay here as long as he wants."
"No. He goes with me.' '
"Then bring him back."
"When? How?"
"Anytime. Between shows. Next winter again. You know how much he likes it here."
"You wouldn't do anything to take him from me, would you?" Her voice held a hurt he'd never heard before, knew he never wanted to hear again, and he loathed himself for putting there. What was wrong with him?
"I'm cantankerous, darlin', but I'm not cruel." Neither missed the endearment. "Stay for Christmas. And then come back. We'll talk then about what to do." He should just let her go. He'd had one wife he didn't know how to talk to or please. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. Besides it was unfair of him. He'd manipulated Rain Shadow. Capitalized on her love for her son
But he'd wrung the promise from her. She'd stayed until after the first of the year.