Shelter Me Home(39)

"Wait," Erin said. "This isn't how this is supposed to go. Dodge is mine, not yours."

"He's more than a game piece, Erin," Farrah whispered as the first  threads of defeat stretched for her heart. If she gave in, Dodge would  be safe. Aanon could have his son and be free to live his life. He could  keep the homestead and give it to Dodge when he was old enough to run  it. She closed her eyes and absorbed the visions of Aanon teaching him  how to run cattle and fix fencing. They could have it all if she made  this sacrifice.

"I want you to sign a contract and hire a lawyer before we board the plane," Farrah said in a strangled voice.

"Done."

"No!" Aanon said. "This isn't done. I don't want this. Farrah," he said,  pleading. "Don't leave. Don't go back with him. Stay here with me.  We'll find another way."

"What other way? She'll take you to court before you're ready." She  dragged her eyes to Dodge where fear pooled in the little boy's eyes,  and she couldn't stand it. "I can't stay here and risk him being taken  from you. This place is amazing, Aanon. If I stayed and you sold it, it  would be the greatest tragedy. One I'd never forgive myself for."  Siren's sounded in the distance and Farrah inhaled a burning breath.  "It's what I want. It'll be better if my child knows her father, and she  can't know him from here."

Because they were lies, the words created little embers in the pit of  her stomach. Her child would be just fine not knowing Miles. She'd  always be shamed and hidden, the secret daughter of a powerful man's  mistress. Farrah would have to make up for Miles's inadequacies.

The cabin grew quiet, and she left before she drowned in the sorrow of Aanon's gaze.

An hour later, after the reports were filled out and the sheriff  satisfied, she loaded up her suitcase into Miles's rental car and bit  her lips against the tears that filled her eyes. She smiled at Dodge and  waved as Miles pulled away. Aanon knelt by Luna, holding her pink  collar so she wouldn't follow, and she barked uncontrollably as they  passed. It was Aanon's face that would haunt her all her days, though.  She'd never seen him cry, but a tear had slipped his cheek just before  she turned away.

Winter trees, bare of their leaves, and evergreens passed, and she tried  to remember every one. It was the last time she would see this road.

Thickly, she said, "I won't ever be yours to keep. All I want from you  is what you promised. Pay for Aanon's lawyer and get him custody of his  child. Other than that, I don't want anything, just like I told you  before. I don't want an apartment or for you to pay my bills. I'm  nobody's secret."

"How do you plan on raising a child with no money?"

"I'll work and provide for us, just like I was going to do here." Her  imaginings wavered like a mirage and disappeared entirely. She wouldn't  be raising the baby in Cooper Landing alongside the people she'd grown  to love. At the new absence of her dreams, her chest hurt, as if someone  were standing atop it. A sob burst from her throat, and warm tears fell  from her damp eyelashes as she doubled over from the pain of her loss.

"Hey, it's not so bad," Miles said. "It's just a place, Farrah. You can do better than living on some hippie commune."

"You're wrong," she said, gasping for air. "There's no better place.  That back there? That piece of land was my only chance at happiness.  Real happiness-the kind people search their whole lives for." Oh, what  was the point in explaining it to someone who was incapable of  satisfaction?

In town, she begged him to stop at Briney's. The man had given her a job  when she so desperately needed one and had offered her trust at running  his bar. She couldn't just leave without saying goodbye, and when she  returned to the SUV with the fancy tires and rental plates, she wiped  her eyes and told Miles she was ready. He wouldn't see any more of her  tears. They didn't mean anything to him, so he wasn't invited to share  that part of her life anymore.                       
       
           



       

No one would be allowed to share her worry ever again.





Chapter Nineteen


Three Months Later



The walls of Farrah's one bedroom apartment were bare and boring. Beige  colored every surface, but she couldn't bring herself to decorate or  paint. It didn't feel like home, so what was the point?

All of the lights were turned off except for one lonely bulb that  illuminated the kitchen as she waited. Worrying the hem of her coat, she  shifted her weight and wished for the tenth time that day that she  could see her feet.

Oleanna. That's what she'd write on the birth certificate when she  finally got to lay eyes on her precious daughter. She'd found it in a  Norwegian name book and thought it beautiful, perfect. If she couldn't  have a life with Aanon, she'd honor his kindness by gifting her child  with a name like his.

The cell phone she gripped trilled, and she accepted the call. It was  Miles. Besides a few acquaintances she sometimes met up with for lunch,  he was the only one who had the number.

"I'm downstairs," he said.

"I'll be right there."

The building was old and didn't have a working elevator, so she made her  way carefully down three flights of stairs. Miles tapped his foot  impatiently as he waited at the bottom.

"How much longer," he asked, staring at her belly.

"I'm full term next week, so then Oleanna could come at any time."

"I still think we need to talk about her name."

"You talk, I'll listen," she said, gifting him with a very fuck you expression.

"Mmm," he said as he offered his arm to escort her to the car he had waiting out front. "You look huge."

This night was already starting to exhaust her. "I think you meant fantastic. You look fantastic, Farrah."

"I mean … " He backtracked. "I'm just not used to you looking so … round.  You don't look bad, just … bigger. They say with the first baby, you'll  lose the weight easy, though."

"Stop. Miles, I've gained eighteen pounds, not a hundred. The doctor has  been encouraging me to gain more. Can we stop talking about my weight?"

"Fine," he muttered. "What do you want to talk about?"

She inhaled the city smog and pursed her lips. "You know."

"Oh, no." He opened the car door for her and helped her in. "If I tell  you about the court hearing too soon, you'll shut down on me just like  every other time I mentioned him. I don't want to have another  uncomfortable dinner. Just be patient."

She sighed miserably as she buckled the safety belt. Her entire life  revolved around patience. Be patient with the customers at her job at  the phone bank. Be patient with the pregnancy jokes and whistles from  chortling passersby. Patiently wait for Oleanna to arrive. But the worst  of all was waiting for news of Aanon. It was her only lifeline to the  man she loved. She wouldn't torture him with phone calls or letters. She  was stuck in New York, and she'd never ask him to leave Cooper Landing  to inhabit a place neither one of them belonged. The city was an iron  cage for creatures like Aanon.

But she had this. Miles took her out to dinner once a month and filled  her in on what Aanon's lawyer told him about his custody hearings. She'd  counted down the days since last month.

The car ride into the heart of the city was quiet, heavily so. Miles  didn't force conversation or try to hold her hand. That wasn't their  relationship anymore. No feelings lingered between them. They were  friends, and that only out of necessity. If there wasn't a baby between  them, she doubted he'd even wave if he passed her on the street.

It was the beginning of March, and rain drops dotted the window, casting  tiny prisms as the city lights passed. If she squinted, she could see  miniature replicas of shops in the watery globes as they drove by.

She smiled at the valet and followed Miles inside. When they were seated, he asked, "How's work?"

To soothe her impatience, she sipped water and then gave him an empty  smile. "Wanda got fired for boning the boss and telling his wife about  it. Ricky got promoted in her place. I was promised a raise if I return  after my maternity leave, and Rhonda has foot fungus. She told me over  lunch yesterday." The discussion still made her want to gag.

By the look on Miles's face, he had similar feelings. He inhaled deeply and mirrored her vacant smile. "Fantastic."

Well, he'd asked.

She ordered grilled chicken and creamed spinach, and she forewarned him  she was going to inhale a desert and to not make snide comments. It  wouldn't help. He'd do it anyway, but at least she'd warned him so she  couldn't be held responsible for verbally filleting him while they  waited for the valet to bring the car around. It was becoming tradition,  and it was clear Miles didn't really learn from past transgressions.  That he simply didn't care was more likely.