Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (11 page)

"I take it
your husband wasn't circumcised," Jack said.

"Well...
no," Grace admitted, "which is why he insisted any sons we had would
not be."

"Have you
ever had sex with a circumcised man?" Jack asked, face rigid.

...a guy can stand up to being teased about almost
anything but his cock...

"Umm,
no," Grace admitted, realizing too late it was an affront to Jack,
implying he couldn't bring pleasure to a woman because he was circumcised.
"But this isn't about you or me. It's about our son and the pain he'd go
through during circumcision, and what he and his wife might miss in the way of
sexual pleasure later in his life."

"Look. Sex
for circumcised males isn't a problem," Jack snapped. "I haven't had
any complaints from women."

"Alright
then," Grace said. "If you insist on having it done then I'll insist
you be there to watch. As for names, if you don't want David then you
decide."

Jack looked
troubled, like their disagreement bothered him. Like maybe he really did want
them to be together on things. But after a few moments, he cocked his head, and
his brows drew together like he had an idea, and he said, "What about
Adam? That was my father's name and he was a great man. It would make my mom
happy."

Grace held
Jack's expectant gaze. Adam. She liked that idea. What's more, she liked the
name. "Why didn't you think of that in the beginning?" she asked.
"It's the perfect name."

Jack looked at
her long and hard, as if he was deliberating about something, which he
confirmed when he said, "If you give me that book I'll read it... maybe
watch the DVD."

"Thank
you," Grace replied. Before leaving, she took one last look around the
room. The urge to clean the place was even stronger. Eyeing Jack, she said,
"Could I tidy up around here?"

"Are you
considering moving in then?" Jack asked.

Grace shrugged.
"Making the place tidier might give me more incentive."

"Then I'll
get Flo to come over."

"No,"
Grace said. "I'm tired of sitting and I want to get some exercise, and I'm
fine now."

Jack sighed.
"Okay, but I will carry you back to the lodge since... I want to." He
lifted her in his arms and headed for the lodge. And Grace felt like screaming
as she wrapped her arms around his neck and settled against his chest, because
now she felt like kissing the man senseless.

At the lodge,
Grace gave Jack the booklet on circumcision and said, "I'm glad you're
willing to read this. The DVD's here." She flipped open the back cover,
displaying a pocket with a DVD.

Jack took the
book but held onto her hand, his face troubled as he toyed with her wedding
rings. "If you want to find another husband," he said, "you need
to get rid of these."

"I will
after Adam's born," Grace replied, deciding to start using his name.
"It seemed right to wear the rings Marc gave me since I was pregnant with
his baby... Well, when I
was
pregnant
with his baby. Now, I don't like being pregnant and looking like I'm not
married."

"You're
still in love with your husband," Jack said, continuing to look at the
rings.

"I'll
always love Marc," Grace replied, "but it doesn't mean I won't love
again. I loved being married, and keeping a home, and feeling loved, and
curling up with my husband in bed and making love, and I want to one day have everything
I lost."

Jack looked up
from the rings, and said in a cynical voice, "Well, if you find the man
you're looking for and he happens to be circumcised, don't tell him it makes a
difference. If you don't have an orgasm he'll wonder if he's pumping too hard,
and if you do, he'll wonder if you're faking." He dropped her hand and
started for the door.

"Jack?"
she called after him, as he was about to leave. He glanced back and waited. She
shrugged. "I don't necessarily believe everything in the survey."

Jack eyed her
steadily, and replied, "I'll keep that in mind," then walked out.

And pregnant or
not, Grace wanted to know what it would be like to make love to a circumcised
man. But not just any circumcised man. She wanted to prove to Jack he wasn't
lacking in any way, because intuition told her he'd thoroughly invalidate the
survey. And she wouldn't have to fake anything to prove her point. Multiple
times.

***

While Jack was
doing ranch work, the following day, and Maureen was with Susan looking after
Ricky, Grace went to tidy up Jack's house. Thinking about how she wanted to
arrange things, and imagining Jack's face when he walked in, energized her, and
when she left the lodge, she left carrying a small bucket and a sponge and a
bottle of disinfectant from the bathroom.

To her
surprise, at Jack's house she discovered he had cleaning supplies, including a
vacuum cleaner, though from the looks of the place it hadn't been used in
months. Behind a door that opened into the living room was a bank of stairs
that led to a big attic with a steep roof. A wide dormer with several windows
in it stretched across the back. Although there were three bedrooms downstairs,
she could imagine the attic being made into either a big room for several boys,
or several smaller bedrooms for boys and girls...

Realizing where
her thoughts had strayed, she descended the stairs and shut the door and
concentrated on cleaning Jack's house. In the hallway off the living room, she
located a closet where she found more cleaning supplies, along with several
boxes against the back wall, one labeled
clothes
for thrift
, the other two labeled,
household
for thrift
. Moving the box with clothes aside, she dragged the boxes with
the household items into the hallway to go through later.

She decided to
start in Jack's room. As she was stripping his bed she thought about the
women's survey and felt a little frisson of sexual awakening as the idea of
proving the survey wrong teased her, along with a desire to know if there
really was a difference. If so, would it matter if Jack wasn't as satisfying as
Marc had been? It came to her that if she married Jack, would he always wonder,
when they made love, if she were comparing him to Marc? That troubled her more
than she cared to know, so she focused on her reason for being in Jack's
bedroom.

But as she bundled
up the bed linens to put in the washer, she spotted a book on the bed stand.
Picking it up, she saw that it was a book on postpartum depression and realized
Jack was concerned about Susan. She too was concerned about Susan, who could
self-abort the baby by any number of methods, and postpartum depression would
no longer be an issue.

Wanting to put
out of her mind thoughts of Susan killing Marc's baby, she set the book aside,
bundled the first load of dirty clothes into the washer, then started clearing
the sink and counters and table, and every available surface that could hold a
cup, mug or dish, and filled the dishwasher. Finding a stash of paper bags, she
gathered outdated magazines and bagged them, along with all the old newspapers
scattered about in disheveled piles. What stood out most about Jack's place was
it was stripped of all décor. No homey touches. No pictures on the walls.

...
a place to hang my hat
...

Too true, Grace
thought, and decided she'd change it into a place for Jack to hang his hat, and
sit by the fire with her in the evening, or at a kitchen table cleared of
clutter, and come to know the warmth and love a real home embraced. The term,
a woman's touch
, had never been clearer.
There were no signs of any woman in Jack's house. Or in his life.

While she
cleaned, Grace was amazed at her level of energy, and in less than three hours,
she had the place in reasonable order. She'd also opened the boxes for the
thrift shop and found bowls, and candle holders, and flower vases, and a
figurine of two swans with their necks and heads forming the shape of a heart.
She placed it on the mantel beside the clock, which she'd wound, and was
ticking away. Then she placed the candle holders on the dining room table on
each side of an attractive Italian-style compote.

Weary, but
happy with what she'd accomplished, she went to Jack's bedroom and lay on the
bed for a few minutes. Sinking her head into his pillow, now covered with a
clean pillow case, she closed her eyes, intending to take a little short nap...

Sometime later Grace
awakened when she felt the mattress slant and a hand on her shoulder. "You
okay?" Jack asked.

She glanced up
at Jack and saw a dark look on his face. "You look mad," she said.

"Not mad.
Pissed."

"Same
thing. Why? You said I could tidy things up."

"You
didn't tidy things. You cleaned the whole damn house."

"I wanted
it nice."

"I told
you I'd get it cleaned."

Grace pulled
herself up to sit against the pillows. "Okay, what's really pissing you
off? Is it that you like living in a pig sty, or maybe you miss having dishes
with lab cultures in them."

"Why did
you drag all the stuff out the box in the closet?" Jack asked.

"To make
the place look like a home," Grace cried. "The box said it was for
the thrift shop, so what difference does it make? You want to bring our baby
here, and you want me here for... for... I really don't know why. But you're
the most impossible man I've ever met. And if you'll get off the bed I want to
go home."

"To your
place?" Jack asked, alarmed.

"No,"
Grace snapped. "Though I have no idea why I'm staying here. Just walk me
back to the lodge. I'm tired." She started to get up, but felt a little
lightheaded.

"You can
barely stand," Jack said. "I'll carry you back."

Grace glared at
him. "Don't bother!" she said, stubbornly. "I can walk."

"Like hell
you can." Jack picked her up and carried her out the house, while Grace
wrapped her arms around his neck and held on to him, trying to ignore his warm
breath on her face, and the muscular arms cradling her, and the fact that she
both loved and hated this man. But if he expected her to
ever
clean so much as a cobweb in his house, he'd have to beg her
forgiveness, and tell her he was sorry, and make an effort to appreciate what
she'd done for him during the course of an entire afternoon!

In her bedroom,
Jack lowered her to the bed, and said, "I'll have Flo put all the stuff
back in the box so I can get rid of it."

"Fine!"
Making Jack's house into a home was an impossible task, Grace decided, and
vowed to eclipse all thoughts of... anything. "I'll try to step over the
mess when I come. If I come."

"The house
is fine," Jack said. "I just don't want it cluttered with a lot of
junk."

"I get the
picture," Grace replied. "Now please just go."

"We'll
talk tomorrow," Jack said.

"I don't
think so," Grace replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to finish
my nap." She punched the pillow and plopped her head on it and shut her
eyes to block the sight of Jack because she knew now he wasn't a man she wanted
on a permanent basis. Far from it. But it didn't stop her from wanting him in
her bed when the time was right...

Later that
afternoon Grace started to leave her room, but hearing Jack and his mother
talking quietly in the great room, she decided to wait until Jack left before
spending time with his mother. She was about to close the door when she heard
Maureen calling Jack down in muted tones. Listening from the hallway, she heard
Maureen say in a hushed tone, "You owe Grace an apology. Your house looked
livable for the first time in years. Grace must have worked hours, and in her
condition. As for all the things she dragged out of the boxes... you can be sure
she was doing it for you. And you did ask her to stay in your house until the
baby comes."

"To stay
in my house, not drag out the past and display it all over the place."

"Then get
rid of the stuff," Maureen said, her voice agitated. "You need to put
your bitterness aside and let the past go. It can't be changed and it's eating
away at you. But because of a mix-up at a fertility clinic you've been given a
chance to start a new family. Your unborn son is a gift, Jack. But he comes
with a mother."

"I know.
That's why I'm moving Grace here," Jack said.

"You
think
you're moving her here because you
made up your mind you would," Maureen replied. "But Grace has no
intention of moving out of her house."

"She's
already changing her mind," Jack said. "That's why she cleaned the
house."

"And if
she doesn't?" Maureen asked. "Do you plan to let her walk out of your
life?"

"She
can't," Jack replied. "I'm petitioning the court for joint
custody."

"Or, you
could do right by her and marry her. You'd have your son, and you'd have a
woman who cares for both of you. She's a lovely woman and she's ready to move
on with her life, but she won't sit around waiting for you to come to your
senses. The problem is, you want your son but not his mother because you think it
will keep your son safe and fix the past, but it doesn't work that way. You've
made a shrine out there behind your house and you can't seem to get beyond it.
But right here, in this house, you have a future with your unborn son and his
mother. Don't throw it away."

"I'll do
what it takes to keep my son here," Jack said, "but it won't include
marriage." He left the house, and a few minutes later, Grace heard his
truck start up.

That iron fence
behind Jack's house—that shrine, as his mother called it—held the secret to
Jack's bitterness, and Grace felt a compelling need to know what it was. After
hearing footsteps in the hallway, and the door to Maureen's bedroom suite close,
Grace slipped into a jacket and crept out of her room and left the lodge.