Dance Away with Me(105)

“You’ve got a big heart, Tess Hartsong.”

Even as he said it, the uneasiness he couldn’t shake made him turn away.

*

She and Ian slept together that night, with Wren next to the bed, neither of them willing to let her out of sight. Wren didn’t awaken until a little after five. Tess pried her eyes open far enough to see that Ian had slipped away. As always.

She pulled the baby and her leaky diaper out of the sleeper and curled her to her chest. Wren didn’t seem to have suffered from yesterday’s episode, but Tess couldn’t say the same. “I’m glad you’re perky,” she told her, “because I’m a wreck.”

Wren was unusually alert that morning. After her feeding she looked at Tess as if to ask what Mom had planned for their entertainment that day. Tess dressed them both, put Wren into her sling, and stepped into a beautiful mountain morning.

She found Ian at the abandoned church. Ignoring his injured hand, he was using the lintel over the doorway to perform a series of punishing pull-ups. His T-shirt lay on the ground next to him. The man couldn’t seem to keep his clothes on.

She watched the contraction of muscles across his shoulders, the long extension in his spine. His legs stayed straight and strong as he raised and lowered himself. Judging by his sweaty back, he’d been working out for a while. She wanted to remember him like this. Rumpled and sweaty, strong and decent, in the wild where he belonged.

Wren was beginning to experiment with her voice, and she screeched. He dropped to the ground. “Ladies.”

She watched as he picked up the T-shirt and rubbed it across his damp chest. “Thank you,” she said.

“For?”

“I could have lost her yesterday.”

“We could have lost her.”

“Of course, but—”

“She’s mine, too, Tess. You keep forgetting that.”

“No, I— ”

“You keep forgetting a lot of things.” He yanked his T-shirt so roughly over his head it should have ripped.

“What put you in such a foul mood?”

“All these plans you have. These plans for yourself and for Wren.”

“I have to plan. I don’t see what—”

“Have you consulted me about any of these plans? Asked me how I feel about them? Whether I have plans of my own? Or have you just told me?”

Where had all this anger come from? “Whatever it is you’re trying to say, say it, because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He came toward her. “I never hear the word we in your plans. I only hear I.”

“There isn’t a we.”

“We’re married, Tess.” The way he said it . . . With an unhappy twist at the corner of his mouth. “That might be old hat to you, but it’s not to me.”

“We’re not really married. You know that as well as I do.”

“The state of Tennessee begs to differ.” The wind caught his hair, blowing it back from the harsh bones of his face. “Do you have any idea what last night was like for me? Wandering around the woods with no idea where she was or who had her? She’s not only yours, Tess. I’ve been with her since the second she was born. You don’t have a monopoly on her.”

He’d never talked about Wren this way, but the way he said it—his antagonism—didn’t sit well with her. “Be careful. Those are lots of big emotions.”

“So what?”

“You said you were selling the schoolhouse.”

“I said I had an offer.”

She couldn’t have this conversation now. “We can talk about it when you’ve had coffee because you’re not making sense.”

He cut in front of her. “We’ll talk about it now because no amount of coffee is going to change anything. I love you, Tess. I love you, and I love Wren.”

She stared at him. These were words she yearned to hear. Words she’d never imagined a man so averse to messy emotions would ever speak. She should have been joyous, but the joy wasn’t there. He looked like a man who’d lost everything.

She drew Wren closer to her heart. “You’ll get over it.”

“Did you really say that?”

She blinked hard. “Being in love is supposed to be a happy thing, but I’ve never seen you look more miserable.”

“I’m not miserable!”

“You’re not happy.”

“I am happy! I’m—” He dragged his hand through his hair. “It’s taking me by surprise. Not the part about loving you. I’ve loved you for a long time. But I put other names to it.”

“Like . . . ?”

“Inspiration. Admiration. Lust. But last night . . . Last night it all came crashing in on me. A crisis has a way of sorting out what’s really important.”

Her bottom lip began to tremble. She caught it between her teeth, knowing she had to do the right thing for both of them. All three of them. She spoke carefully. “Exactly how do you see us moving forward?”

“What do you mean? I see us together.”

The harsh way he tossed out the words told her everything. “What about your work?”

“What about it?”

“You’re an honorable man, Ian, but you’re not a domestic one.” She formed the words she needed to say. “Your work is who you are, and I’ve gotten in the way of that.”