She'd been so brave about the fall. Annie knew it must have hurt. Then at supper and all evening she'd been so funny and bright and cheerful. She was an incredible kid. Before dinner, in the kitchen, while Robert was upstairs taking a bath, she'd told Annie what Tom had said about riding Pilgrim. She was buzzing with excitement, had it all worked out how she was going to surprise her dad. Joe was going to take him off to see Bronty's foal and then bring him back at just the right moment to find her on Pilgrim. Annie was not without qualms about it and nor, she guessed, would Robert be. But if Tom thought it safe, it would be.
'He seems like a real nice fellow,' Robert had said, helping himself to another piece of salmon, which surprisingly tasted alright.
'He's been very kind to us,' Annie said, as blandly as she could. There was a short silence and her words seemed to hang there as if for inspection. Mercifully, Grace started to talk about some of the things she'd seen Tom do this week with Pilgrim.
Annie leaned over now and kissed her daughter softly on the cheek. From some far-off place, Grace murmured a response.
Robert was already in bed. He was naked. As she came in and started to undress he put down his book and watched her, waiting for her. It was a signal he'd used for years and in the past she'd often enjoyed undressing before him, even been aroused by it. Now though, she found his silent gaze unsettling, almost unbearable. She'd known, of course, he would expect to make love tonight, after so long apart. All evening she had dreaded it.
She took off her dress and laid it on the chair and felt suddenly so acutely aware of his eyes on her and the intensity of the silence that she stepped over to the window and parted the blind to look out.
'The rain's stopped.'
'It stopped about half an hour ago.'
'Oh.'
She looked down toward the ranch house. Though she'd never been in Tom's room, she knew the window and could see the light was on. Oh God, she thought, why can't it be you? Why can't it be us? The thought filled her with a kind of yearning surge so near to desperation that she quickly had to shut the blind and turn away. She hurriedly took off her bra and panties and reached for the big T-shirt she normally wore to sleep in.
'Don't put it on,' Robert said softly. She turned to look at him and he smiled. 'Come here.'
He held out his arms to her and she swallowed and did her best to smile back, praying he couldn't read what she feared was in her eyes. She put the T-shirt down and walked to the bed, feeling shockingly exposed in her nakedness. She sat on the bed beside him and couldn't help the shiver of her skin as he slipped one hand around the back of her neck and the other to her left breast.
'Are you cold?'
'Only a little.'
He gently pulled her head down to him and kissed her, in the way he always kissed her. And she tried, with every atom she could muster, to blank her mind of all comparison and lose herself in the familiar contours of his mouth and its familiar taste and smell and the familiar cradling of his hand on her breast.
She closed her eyes but could not subdue the welling sense of betrayal. She had betrayed this good and loving man not so much by what she'd done with Tom but by what she longed to do. More powerfully however, and even though she told herself how foolish it was, she felt she was betraying Tom by what she was doing now.
Robert opened the sheets and shifted to let her in beside him. She saw the familiar pattern of russet hair on his stomach and the engorged pink sway of his erection. It slid hard against her thigh as she laid herself down beside him and found his mouth again.
'Oh, God, Annie, I've missed you.'
'I've missed you too.'
'Have you?'
'Shh. Of course I have.'
She felt the flat of his hand travel down her side and over her hip to her belly and knew he would stroke between her legs and would find how unaroused she was. Just as his fingers reached the rim of her hair, she slipped away a little down the bed.
'Let me do this first,' she said. And she eased herself over between his legs and took him in her mouth. It was a long time, years even, since she'd done it and the thrill of it made him take a sudden shuddering breath.
'Oh Annie. I don't know if I can take this.'
'It doesn't matter. I want to.'
What wanton liars love makes of us, she thought. What dark and tangled paths it has us tread. And as he came, she knew with a flooding sad certainty that whatever happened they would never be the same again and that this guilty act was secretly her parting gift.
Later, when the light was off, he came inside her. So dark was the night they could not see each other's eyes. And, thus protected, Annie at last was stirred. She turned herself loose to the liquid rhythm of their coupling and found beyond its sorrow some brief oblivion.
Chapter Thirty
Robert drove Grace down to the barn after breakfast. The rain had cleared and cooled the air and the sky was a faultless wide curve of blue. He'd already noticed Grace was quieter this morning, more serious, and he asked her on the way down if she was okay.
'Dad, you've got to stop asking me that. I'm fine. Please.'
I'm sorry.'
She smiled and patted his arm and he left it at that. She'd called Joe before they left and by the time they got there he'd already fetched Gonzo from the paddock. He gave them a big grin as they got out of the Lariat.
'Good morning, young man,' Robert said.
'Morning Mr Maclean.'
'It's Robert, please.'
'Okay sir.'
They led Gonzo into the barn. Robert saw that Grace seemed to be walking with more of a limp than yesterday. Once she even seemed to lose her balance and had to reach for the gate of a stall to steady herself. He stood to watch them saddle Gonzo, asking Joe all about him, how old the pony was, how many hands, whether paints had a special kind of temperament. Joe gave full and courteous answers. Grace didn't say a word. Robert could see in the gathering of her brow that something was troubling her. He guessed from Joe's glances at her that he saw it too, though both knew better than to ask.
They led Gonzo out the back of the barn and into the arena. Grace prepared to mount.
'No hat?' Robert asked.
'You mean no hard hat?'
'Well, yes.'
'No, Dad. No hat.'
Robert shrugged and smiled. 'You know best.'
Grace narrowed her eyes at him. Joe looked from one of them to the other and grinned. Then Grace gathered the reins and, with Joe's shoulder for support, put her left foot in the stirrup. As she took the weight on her prosthetic leg, something seemed to give and Robert saw her wince.
'Shit,' she said.
'What is it?'
'Nothing. It's okay.'
With a grunt of effort she swung the leg over the cantle and sat in the saddle. Even before she'd settled he could see something was wrong. And then he saw her face screw up and realized she was crying.
'Gracie, what is it?'
She shook her head. He thought at first she was in pain, but when at last she spoke it was clear they were tears of anger.
'It's no damn good.' The words were almost spat. 'It's not going to work.'
It took Robert the rest of the day to get hold of Wendy Auerbach. The clinic had an answering machine with an emergency number which, curiously, seemed permanently busy. Maybe every other prosthetic in New York had cracked in sympathy or through some lurking defect whose time had suddenly come. When at last he got through, a weekend duty nurse said she was sorry but it wasn't clinic policy to give out home numbers. If however it really was as urgent as Robert said, which by her tone she seemed to doubt, she would try to contact Dr Auerbach on his behalf. An hour later the nurse called back. Dr Auerbach was out and wouldn't be home till late afternoon.