Robin Lee Hatcher - [Coming to America 02] by Patterns of Love

Author:Patterns of Love
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

What have I done?

Clad once again in his long underwear and socks, Dirk sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his thighs while he cradled his head in his hands. It was five o’clock in the morning, and he’d been awake for hours. Behind him, he could hear Inga’s soft, steady breathing.

She’d been lovely, perfect, wonderful in every way. Too wonderful.

Their marriage was to have been a temporary situation. Just until the girls were old enough to take care of themselves. Now…last night…

Dirk hadn’t wanted a real marriage. He’d wanted to be able to leave one day without guilt. He was so tired of feeling guilty! He’d wanted to shuck the heavy chains of responsibility that bound him to this miserable farm, to his brother’s life instead of his own. Once the girls were old enough, he’d wanted to walk away without a backward glance and live the way he’d always planned on living. He could have done that if he’d been able to give Inga an annulment, but now…

She decided this for herself, he argued silently.

Inga had understood the bargain they made. She’d agreed this was a temporary marriage. She’d known there was no love between them. So what was he worried about? She’d said she wouldn’t be sorry because of it.

She was innocent. She didn’t know. You did.

Quickly, he rose from the bed and finished dressing, then went downstairs where he stoked the kitchen stove and put coffee on to boil.

They would have to talk about this, about what had happened last night. It had changed things, as he’d known it would, and they were going to have to come to terms with those changes. Maybe it would be better if she returned to her father’s house now. Maybe she should get that annulment right away. Only how would he manage without her? His situation, his need for help with the children and with the household chores, hadn’t changed because they’d shared a bed.

He should have had more self-control, he chided himself. He never should have let last night happen.

He frowned. Did it have to make such a big difference? There had been no guilt when he’d left Clara’s horse farm in Kentucky. There’d been no remorse when he’d ridden away from the small town in Montana where Pearl lived and worked.

Suddenly it was clear to him why this time, this woman, was different from before. Because he could learn to care for her too much. Care for her as he’d never cared for another woman. Because caring for her—for his wife—would tie him down in a way he didn’t want to be tied down, a way he refused to be tied down.

“Mmm. I smell coffee.”

He turned toward the kitchen doorway, and there Inga stood. Her wheat-colored hair, becomingly disheveled, fell loose over her shoulders. Her eyes looked sleepy, dreamy. Her mouth was bowed in a tentative smile.

“It’ll be ready in a minute or two,” he told her.

“I did not hear you get up.” A blush pinkened her cheeks.

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