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Authors: Deborah Smith
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with Carl Ryder, with never any hint that she’d ever come back. “Is anything wrong?”
“Samantha still isn’t talking. Frannie asked me to loan her the money for more tests. I’m arranging them with the medical center at the university. The best specialists I can find. Those army doctors are cheap quacks. There are no retarded children in my family. Samantha isn’t going to be the first.” Alexandra hesitated, frowning. “Who knows what the child had bred into her from Carl Ryder’s people?”
“Don’t talk about her as if she ought to be dropped from the breeding registry, dear. She’s not a horse.”
“People are no different from horses. If you breed carelessly, you get weak traits.” Alexandra glanced at their son, then looked away quickly. “Put him down, William. He’s not a baby. He’s six years old, and you’re encouraging him to whine at the drop of a hat.”
William set their son down slowly, ruffled his pale red hair, and told him to go wash up for dinner. When the boy was safely out of earshot, William straightened and looked at her with the hangdog resignation she’d come to despise. “He needs brothers and sisters to look after. If I pamper him, it’s because he’s an only child.”
“If you wanted a whole brood of chicks, you should have had my uterus checked for cysts before you married me.” She clapped her hands. “Now let’s talk about Frannie. She’ll arrive here in two weeks. We’ll have a dinner to introduce her to Ginger and the gang, and I want to do some redecorating in the two upstairs bedrooms with the shared bath. I’ll move the double bed out of the small room and replace it with a child-size one. Something gorgeous—with a canopy. I’ll buy a pretty little toy chest and fill it with dolls and picture books.”
He advanced toward her, fists clenched. “You changed the subject. You won’t discuss our own shortage of children, but you gleefully make plans for your sister’s child.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. We’ve said it all before. You want more children in the house? Fine. We’ll have Frannie’s little girl.”
“You talk as if you expect to keep her.”
“I do.” Alexandra took a wary step back from him as he halted close to her. She smelled the bourbon that was on his breath constantly. “Her,
and
Frannie,” Alexandra explained. “I’m going to do my level best to persuade my sister not to go back to Carl. I’ve always suspected that Frannie regrets marrying him but is too proud to say so. If I give her some tactful encouragement, she’ll probably jump at a chance to put the marriage behind her.”
William snatched her by one arm. “I won’t have you conniving to break up Frannie’s marriage and meddle in the upbringing of her little girl. See to the problems in your own household, woman, and if you want a daughter, produce one of your own!”
“I can’t have another child! Stop trying to humiliate me!”
He jerked her arm. “Can’t, or won’t?”
“Let go of me! Tim might be watching from a window!”
“Then let’s get some of your precious privacy.” Alexandra gasped at this sudden and unexpected violence. He nearly dragged her across the lawn to a hidden spot behind tall boxwood hedges, then swung her to face him. “Stop lying to me.” he said. He shook her so hard her head snapped back. “By God, I’ve kept quiet because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings—I didn’t want to make you think I’m blaming you for your inability to become pregnant again. But I know the truth. I talked to your doctor. You don’t have any goddamned cyst.”
“You went behind my back!”
“You’re my wife. I deserve to hear the truth.”
“I can’t give you more children, and all you can do is humiliate me about that fact by investigating my medical records!”
He shook her again. “Why can’t we have more children? That’s all I want to know. I had tests too. I know there’s nothing wrong with me.” His
“Samantha still isn’t talking. Frannie asked me to loan her the money for more tests. I’m arranging them with the medical center at the university. The best specialists I can find. Those army doctors are cheap quacks. There are no retarded children in my family. Samantha isn’t going to be the first.” Alexandra hesitated, frowning. “Who knows what the child had bred into her from Carl Ryder’s people?”
“Don’t talk about her as if she ought to be dropped from the breeding registry, dear. She’s not a horse.”
“People are no different from horses. If you breed carelessly, you get weak traits.” Alexandra glanced at their son, then looked away quickly. “Put him down, William. He’s not a baby. He’s six years old, and you’re encouraging him to whine at the drop of a hat.”
William set their son down slowly, ruffled his pale red hair, and told him to go wash up for dinner. When the boy was safely out of earshot, William straightened and looked at her with the hangdog resignation she’d come to despise. “He needs brothers and sisters to look after. If I pamper him, it’s because he’s an only child.”
“If you wanted a whole brood of chicks, you should have had my uterus checked for cysts before you married me.” She clapped her hands. “Now let’s talk about Frannie. She’ll arrive here in two weeks. We’ll have a dinner to introduce her to Ginger and the gang, and I want to do some redecorating in the two upstairs bedrooms with the shared bath. I’ll move the double bed out of the small room and replace it with a child-size one. Something gorgeous—with a canopy. I’ll buy a pretty little toy chest and fill it with dolls and picture books.”
He advanced toward her, fists clenched. “You changed the subject. You won’t discuss our own shortage of children, but you gleefully make plans for your sister’s child.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. We’ve said it all before. You want more children in the house? Fine. We’ll have Frannie’s little girl.”
“You talk as if you expect to keep her.”
“I do.” Alexandra took a wary step back from him as he halted close to her. She smelled the bourbon that was on his breath constantly. “Her,
and
Frannie,” Alexandra explained. “I’m going to do my level best to persuade my sister not to go back to Carl. I’ve always suspected that Frannie regrets marrying him but is too proud to say so. If I give her some tactful encouragement, she’ll probably jump at a chance to put the marriage behind her.”
William snatched her by one arm. “I won’t have you conniving to break up Frannie’s marriage and meddle in the upbringing of her little girl. See to the problems in your own household, woman, and if you want a daughter, produce one of your own!”
“I can’t have another child! Stop trying to humiliate me!”
He jerked her arm. “Can’t, or won’t?”
“Let go of me! Tim might be watching from a window!”
“Then let’s get some of your precious privacy.” Alexandra gasped at this sudden and unexpected violence. He nearly dragged her across the lawn to a hidden spot behind tall boxwood hedges, then swung her to face him. “Stop lying to me.” he said. He shook her so hard her head snapped back. “By God, I’ve kept quiet because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings—I didn’t want to make you think I’m blaming you for your inability to become pregnant again. But I know the truth. I talked to your doctor. You don’t have any goddamned cyst.”
“You went behind my back!”
“You’re my wife. I deserve to hear the truth.”
“I can’t give you more children, and all you can do is humiliate me about that fact by investigating my medical records!”
He shook her again. “Why can’t we have more children? That’s all I want to know. I had tests too. I know there’s nothing wrong with me.” His
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