The steady beeping of the alarm came to an abrupt halt, as Paula’s hand slapped down on it. The sun was already peeping through the window to herald another warm day.  It was the first of summer, when the days start early and go very late.  Usually humid, muggy days. The air already had that feel to it.

Paula rolled over and looked at her sleeping husband.  The alarm never woke him.  That’s why it was on her side of the bed.  Waking him had been her job for the eleven years they’d been married.  Sometimes she wondered how he’d made it to work on time before she was around.  The thought made her smile.

The weekend had been too short, as usual, and Monday morning was here.  Well, maybe she’d at least wake him up in style today.  He was sleeping on his side, broad back to her, his long blond hair lingering across the pillow.

She slid close to him and snuggled up from behind.  He felt warm against her thin nightgown and she knew him well enough not to be surprised by what her hand found as she slipped it over the front of his underwear.  Maybe that’s why the alarm never woke him; his dreaming mind was otherwise occupied.

She stroked him and whispered in his ear, “Rob, it’s time to wake up…It’s 6:00, Honey…time to get up….”

He stirred and his deep voice rumbled, “I am up…Can’t you tell?”

“Um-hmm,” she stroked a little firmer as he rolled toward her onto his back. “Are you awake now?”

“Um-hmm,” he reached a strong arm around her and pulled her close, resting her head on his tanned shoulder.

She draped one of her long legs across his tall body and looked up into his deep blue eyes.  Eyes bluer than the sky, she thought. The blue seemed to intensify with the passing of years.  He had a handsome face, covered with the stubble of morning, with the slightest cleft in his chin and dimples when he smiled. In spite of his 45 years, his thick blond hair showed no signs of gray and the creases at the corners of his eyes only added to his appeal.

His blue eyes were gazing at his wife in appreciation.  Although she was four years younger, her tousled long brown hair was highlighted with gray in a few places.  Her face had a natural beauty, though, and she already had a good start on her summer tan, as well.  She had just enough Native American ancestry to possess the deep brown eyes and skin that took the sun like a gift from heaven.

She raised herself and slid on top of him, “Are you sure you don’t need some help waking up?”

Just then a loud thud echoed down the hall, followed by something similar to the sound of elephants approaching.  She eased herself back to his side with a sigh, as they both frowned.

“Guess we’re both awake now,” he muttered.

Three pajama-clad boys burst into the bedroom and piled onto the bed.  They behaved like a litter of young pups all anxious to get hold of the same toy.

“Hey,” their father scolded, “settle down, Boys, or you’ll trounce your mother.”

“Morning, Guys,” Paula smiled at her troop of sons.  Jason was the oldest, at ten, and had been born on their first anniversary. He had his father’s fair hair, but his mother’s dark eyes and complexion.  Kevin and Keith were eight year old twins, not identical, but very similar in looks.  They had dark hair and blue-green eyes and were tanned, also.

“What are you all so wound up about?” Rob asked, extricating himself from the mass and heading for the bathroom that attached to the master bedroom.

“Camp!” Jason answered loudly, following him, “Did you forget, Dad?”

From the look Rob shot toward Paula, it was evident he had.

“All week, Dear,” she reminded him, “They have Day Camp.  You’re dropping them off on your way to work and picking them up after.  You’d better go start getting ready, Boys.”

As the herd of boys exited, Rob leaned in the doorway, his six-foot frame not as lean as it once had been, but still very attractive.  His broad chest was sprinkled with just enough hair to tease its way down to the thickening fur at the waistband of his briefs. His tan stopped where his jeans should have been, evidence of working on the 100 acre farm in the sun.

“What are you going to possibly find to do around here all week long by yourself?” He teased his wife.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she slipped out of bed, “Just because the green beans are ready to pick, the cucumbers are the perfect size for pickling, the lawn needs mowing…I guess I’ll just have to find some gorgeous young hunk to have an illicit affair with, just to keep from being bored.”

Her husband grinned, “Well, while he’s here, see if you can get him to mend the north fence, will you? I need to move cattle and I’m afraid that one won’t hold them this time.”

~*~

Paula stood on the porch of the old farmhouse, gazing after the dust trail left by the blue extended cab dually. She and Rob had found this place before they were married, looking for land to build on.  He was an architect and had a design in mind for the perfect home.

They were engaged at the time and she was working as a veterinary assistant. A trip out to work cattle had brought her to this place and she had discovered it was for sale.  They had both fallen in love with the lay of the land, a mixture of pasture and woods, with ponds and a creek.

After buying the place for a song, Rob had set to work planning a complete renovation on the old house. By the time they were married, enough had been done to make it livable, and they had worked on it together, piece by piece over the years.

It now looked quite different, with its two stories, new white siding, and sprawling covered porch.  The yard was about five acres, with lots of old oak trees and perennial flowers.  There was a large vegetable garden between the yard and south pasture.  The lane to the house stretched half of a mile along that pasture before reaching the dirt road.

“Woof,” an alert Dalmatian barked at her side, bringing her attention back to the present.

“What is it, Sam?” She asked, knowing he didn’t bark without good reason.

She had donned old blue jeans and a sleeveless yellow shirt, planning on picking beans before the heat really set in.  The dog at her side barked again and started toward the pasture beyond the garden. She followed to see what he was trying to show her.

There was a long large stable-style barn just inside the gate, this being the pasture where the horses were kept. Paula noticed there were only four horses up eating the grain Rob had put out before leaving.  Her own Appaloosa mare was nowhere to be seen. Dancer was not prone to miss meals, so her absence had drawn the dog’s attention.

Paula and Sam headed through the gate, calling for the missing horse as she walked.  Sam stopped and listened alertly, then ran into the wooded area at the center of the enclosure. Following as quickly as she could, Paula began to hear the call of a tired horse.

Dancer was a small mare, black with spots on her blanketed rump. She had earned her name by the little sideways dance step she did when she was excited. Paula could see that she had found a piece of barbed wire somewhere and managed to tangle it thoroughly around her front legs. One look told her that wire cutters were needed to free the horse.

“Stay with her, Sam,” Paula told the dog, and he immediately lay down close to the exhausted mare. She put her muzzle down toward him, obviously comforted by his presence.

Paula left the pair to retrieve gloves and snips, a lead rope and halter. So much for getting to the beans right away.

~*~

An hour later, Paula had the horse settled into a stall, the Dalmatian left to watch over her and keep her company. She went to the telephone and dialed the very familiar number.

“Lucy?” She knew the receptionist well, partly because she had trained her, “I’ve got a problem out here. I really need Doc to come out.”

“What’s up?” Lucy asked on the other end of the line.

“Dancer had a fight with some fencing and lost,” Paula told her. “There’s no way I can bring her in. Rob’s got the truck in town with him. How soon can he come out?”

“Well, Paula,” Lucy apologized, “Doc’s off today, but I’m sure he’d come out tomorrow. I can try to catch him early and have him stop by first thing on his way in.”

“Off?” Paula couldn’t believe it. Her old boss, Dr. Brown, never left the office unattended. “Where is he? I might call him at home and twist his arm…”

“He’s not home, Paula,” Lucy dashed her hopes again, “He had a seminar this past weekend and isn’t flying back in till tonight…But…”

“But, what?” Paula was desperate.

“Well,” Lucy knew Paula wouldn’t like what she had to offer, “We do have a new doctor, Martin…He’s covering everything while Doc’s away.”

“New?” Paula was skeptical, “New, as in ‘new to you’, or as in ‘fresh out of college’?”

The silence on the other end told Paula all she needed to know. Lucy was well aware that Paula didn’t trust vets fresh out of school. She’d had to break too many in over the years herself. They always had fancy classroom ideas that didn’t work in the real world.  However, she was running out of options.

“Well,” she asked, “Can he at least follow instructions, if I tell him what to do? She needs to be sedated and cleaned up and sutured. If it waits until tomorrow, she may lose muscle use.”

“He’s just finishing up a dog spay,” Lucy told her, “I’ll send him right out and tell him who you are.”

~*~

Paula watched the red pickup pull in front of the house. She was prepared to take charge of the situation. She knew what needed to be done…had assisted on calls like this a thousand times over. She just needed the proper drugs and instruments to do it. At least he was driving the clinic truck with the good vet-bed on it. That meant he had everything she would need.

She stepped out onto the porch and instructed, “Drive the truck out to the barn. I’ll open the gate.”

He nodded and backed the truck up to follow her. The window was down on his side and she could see enough to know she’d been right about his age. Fresh out of school. Had to be mid to late twenties. Probably didn’t have a clue what to do.

He parked the truck just inside the pasture gate and got out. He was tall and lean, in jeans and a short sleeved blue cotton shirt. At least he wasn’t in a suit and tie. He had cowboy boots on, too. That was encouraging.

His arms were tanned, so he had seen the light of day. Another good omen. His hair was dark brown and had a wave to it that reminded her of the twins’ hair. It was short and he had a closely trimmed goatee framing a pleasant smile.

As he extended a hand to her, she caught his eyes…a deep blue…almost as blue as Rob’s, “Hello, I’m Dr. Mitch Martin. You must be Paula Jackson.”

“Yes, that’s me,” she shook the strong hand, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable it felt.

Sam appeared, barking and growling at the stranger. He considered Paula his private property and willingly guarded her with his life. He was a well-trained, intelligent animal, a considerable asset on a large farm such as this.

“It’s OK, Sam,” she said, and he immediately stopped barking and sat down, “He’s here to see Dancer.”

“So, you’re the Paula I keep hearing about,” he opened the vet-bed and started gathering supplies.

“What did Lucy tell you?” Paula watched what he chose and was pleased so far.

“Oh, not just Lucy,” he shrugged, “Been hearing about you from clients and Doc, too. Not to mention your name’s on every official manual and document in the clinic.”

“Well,” Paula laughed, “I did work there for fifteen years. People got to know me pretty well.”

“Is she in the barn?” He asked, ready to go to work.

“Yes, but I’ll bring her out here. There’s a lot on the other side of the barn that works well. You’ll need more light than the barn gives. Besides, she doesn’t like close quarters.”

“Sounds fine,” he glanced at the lot she indicated and headed that way.

“She hates men,” Paula warned, “so Doc always just hands me the syringe and lets me sedate her. I never have any problems with her.”

“Well,” he nodded, “Bring her out and let’s have a look.”

Paula went into the barn and came back out leading the beautiful horse. Her legs were already starting to swell and she walked slowly. Sam followed along dutifully.

“Oh,” Dr. Martin spoke softly, “what a beauty. Hey, Girl, will you let me have a look at those legs?”

“Watch out…” Paula warned as he walked up slowly and knelt down to look at the front legs.

The horse stood quietly, astounding Paula. Rob was the only man she had ever known that Dancer would tolerate, unless she was heavily sedated. He had a special way with horses. He’d been raised with them and knew how to handle them instinctively. Their boys were proving to have the same gift.

The doctor stood up and stroked the mare’s neck. Her ears twitched as he spoke softly to her. So softly, that only Dancer could hear him.

He reached into his bag and drew up a syringe of sedative, “I think she’ll let me do this. She’s done quite a number on those legs, hasn’t she?”

“Yes, she has,” Paula agreed, watching him easily hit the neck vein and deposit the contents of the syringe.

“Do you have a bottle of equine penicillin on hand?” He asked, “She’ll need injections every day for a while to keep from getting an infection.”

“Yes,” Paula nodded, “In fact, I’ve already given her an injection.”

He shot her a glance, then grinned, “I should’ve known that, right? You’ve obviously already cleaned her up a bit, too. I think we’ll need to freshen those edges of skin, though, before I suture them. Do you agree?”

She was starting to like this guy, “Yes, I do. What do you think about that deep cut? Did she tear a muscle?”

“Well,” he shook his head, “It’s hard to tell, with all the swelling, but she doesn’t walk like it. I think we’ll suppose not, instead of fishing around in there and maybe doing more damage.”

“You’re pretty good with horses,” Paula observed, as he started to work on the legs, “I think she likes you.”

“I grew up with horses,” he explained, “Wanted to get a job in Kentucky working on Thoroughbreds. Maybe I still will some day.”

“What happened?” Paula quizzed.

“Those jobs are few and far between,” he explained, “They don’t want vets fresh out of college.”

She smiled, laughing at herself a bit, “Well, if you need a reference, I’ll be the first in line.”

“Thanks,” he flashed her a smile, eyes dancing, that made a tremor run down her spine, “So what about you? Why did you leave the clinic?”

“I got married,” she answered, watching his strong hands perform the delicate task. Nice hands, she thought.

“What?” He was watching what he was doing now, “He wouldn’t let you keep your job?”

“This may come as a shock,” Paula remarked wryly, “but not all women want to work. I wanted to stay home and be a wife and mother. It was my choice.”

“I see,” he looked up again, glancing at her, up and down, “Well, the clinic’s loss was obviously his gain.”

“I think that was a compliment,” Paula reflected, “so I’ll say thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered, “and it was meant to be a compliment. How long ago did you quit?”

“Well, I quit a week before our wedding,” she recalled, “and we just celebrated our eleventh anniversary.”

“Wait a minute,” he stopped and shook his head, “Eleven years ago? And you worked there for fifteen years? Not possible. You’re not old enough.”

She smiled, “Thanks, again, but I’m afraid I am. I started working there in high school, after school cleaning cages and mopping floors. You were probably still in diapers then.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” he went back to work.

“I bet I am,” she argued, “I’m 41.”

He stopped again, “You sure don’t look it…Not even close.”

“Boy,” she teased, “You must really want a referral!”

“There she is,” he got back to his feet, “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to keep her up till I take out the sutures. Keep up the penicillin injections and I may try to stop by tomorrow just to take a peek at her. Call me if you think there’s a problem.”

“You’ll send me a bill?” Paula asked, “Thanks for coming out so quick.”

“I’ll have Lucy take care of it,” he nodded, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Paula.”

“You too, Dr. Martin,” she smiled.

“Mitch,” he told her, “Please, call me Mitch.”

~*~

Paula was sitting on the front porch, snapping green beans, when Rob and the boys returned. Sam jumped up and ran to greet them, as they tumbled out like a sack of potatoes.

They were all talking at once, telling her about their first day at camp. It was a rare treat for them, since she had been homeschooling them from preschool age. Rob stood patiently, watching them hug and kiss their mother, smiling at the sight.  He looked strikingly handsome, in his dark dress slacks and sports jacket, over the white polo shirt. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, like he had worn it since his college years.

“Do I get a turn?” He finally stepped up toward her, arms wide.

“You bet,” she hugged him and gave him a passionate kiss.

“I thought you’d be done with the beans by now,” he picked up the big pan for her and followed her to the kitchen.

“Long story,” she said, “Condensed version: Dancer got tangled in barbed wire and I had to get the vet out.”

“She OK?” He sat the beans down, “Go clean up for dinner, Boys.”

“She’ll have to stay up for a few days,” Paula told him, starting to work on supper.

“So,” Rob took his jacket off and hung it on a coat rack nearby, “how’s Doc?”

“Out of town,” Paula frowned, “But Lucy sent out the newby they have now and he did a pretty good job. Name’s Martin. Dancer actually let him handle her.”

“She was probably just exhausted,” he suggested, unwilling to consider the possibility that someone other than himself could have the right touch.

“Maybe,” Paula smiled, reading his thoughts, “Anyway, I don’t know where the wire came from, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to check the fences in the south pasture.”

“OK,” he started setting the table, “the boys and I will saddle up and check them after dinner.”

~*~

Dark was fast approaching when they rode back up to the barn, all looking hot and tired. They had discovered a tree that had split and taken out part of the fence. Somehow, the horse had managed to get halfway to the barn, while tangled in the wire that had come from the downed fence.

“Showers, Boys,” Paula told them as they drug in, “then straight to bed. You have another early day tomorrow.”

They went silently, too tired to complain.  Rob’s work shirt was torn in several places and she could see skinned knuckles and wire cuts on the bare part of his forearms.

“Come here, Baby,” she took his hands, “Let me have a look at those.”

“I’m OK,” he shrugged, “But I definitely need a shower.”

She made sure the boys were getting themselves ready for bed, then shut lights off while Rob showered. By the time he emerged, looking somewhat refreshed, the boys were tucked in, she was in her gown, and the covers were turned down on their bed.

“Feel better?” She asked.

“Some,” he nodded, “But I guess I’m getting old…I can already feel my back and shoulders getting sore.”

“Oh, you’re not old,” she led him to the bed and indicated for him to lie down, “Just aged to perfection. Now let me give you a back rub.”

He stretched out on his stomach obediently, “After that, will you give me a front rub?”

“Gladly, Baby,” she purred in his ear as she massaged his shoulders.

He closed his eyes and began snoring within moments. Paula smiled down at her tired husband and reached over to turn off the light.

She sat next to him silently, watching him sleep and a tear came to her eye as she remembered how they had met. It had been love at first sight for her, and that love had only grown deeper and stronger over the years.

She was 25 at the time, still living on her parents’ farm, and working for Dr. Brown.  They had been called out to old Mr. Jackson’s place to draw brucellosis tests on his cattle. She had known him all her life; he and her father were good friends.

She had also gotten acquainted with his grandson, Terry, who had come down from the St. Louis area to live with him. Terry was in his 30’s and divorced, so when his grandmother died, he had come to help out on the farm.

When she and Doc had driven up that day, they were greeted by Terry and a handsome blond man that had taken her breath away. He was introduced as Terry’s younger brother, visiting from St. Louis. Paula had made her mind up then and there that she would one day marry Rob Jackson.

After months of a long distance relationship, him driving down on weekends, Rob had found a job at an architectural firm in nearby Springfield. He had moved down to live with his brother and grandfather to be nearer to Paula. Terry had warned her against his brother, calling him the wild one of the family, but Paula had proved to be the one woman who could tame him. Five years later, they had been married.

She was 30 years old by then, and he was the first man she had ever loved. When she had told him she was still a virgin, he had insisted she stay that way until their wedding night.

Here they were, eleven years and three boys later, still proving all the critics wrong. Never once having rocky spells like most marriages. They were best friends and still, when not interrupted by the boys or life’s other emergencies, very passionate lovers. She couldn’t imagine life without Rob and their sons. They were her whole world.

She gently leaned over and kissed his cheek, pulled the covers up, and tucked in next to him to sleep. Morning and all its chores would come soon enough.

~*~

Paula was just finishing the pickles the next afternoon, when she heard Sam barking on the front porch. She looked out to see Dr. Martin driving up, honking.

Almost unconsciously, she glanced in the mirror on the living room wall to check her appearance.  Her hair was pulled back, a few strands falling loosely around her face. She was wearing a rather tight red tank top and cut-off shorts. Too late to change now.

He waited for her to appear before getting out of his truck. Sam was close enough to make him wary. As soon as he emerged, though, Sam stopped barking and wagged his tail.

“It’s OK,” Paula told him, “Sam knows you now. You come to check Dancer?”

“How’s she doing?” He nodded, petting Sam.

“Pretty well,” Paula led the way toward the barn, “Come see for yourself. You must be on your way home for the day.”

“Yeah,” he said, “I have to pass this way, so I thought I’d check her.”

Dancer whinnied when he walked up, but didn’t even flinch as he examined her. He definitely had a gift with horses.

“You didn’t tell me where you’re from?” Paula was just making conversation.

“Up around St. Louis,” he told her, “But I went to vet school in Columbia, of course.”

“Of course, “ she nodded, “My husband is from the St. Louis area, too. A little place called Wentzville.”

“Ah, yes,” he nodded, “You ‘wince’ when you go through it.”

“That’s the one,” she’d heard it a dozen times, “He and his brother came down here to help out their grandfather before he died. His brother is Terry Jackson. Have you met him yet?”

“No,” he shook his head, “but I’ve only been here for a month.”

“Speaking of my husband,” she headed toward the barn door, “I think I hear his truck.”

“She looks good,” he followed her, “I’ll get out of your hair now. Mind if I stop by again tomorrow?”

“Not at all,” she closed the gate behind them, “Come meet my husband and our boys before you leave.”

They were pouring out of the truck in their usual fashion, when they caught sight of the stranger. They all stopped dead in their tracks, staring at him.

“Hi, Guys,” Paula greeted, “This is Dr. Mitch Martin. He came by to check on Dancer.”

They all stood frozen, cautiously eyeing Mitch, then looking back and forth between him and their father. Paula looked at Mitch, then at Rob. She shuddered when she realized what her perceptive sons had noticed.

“Rob,” she went on, “this is Dr. Martin. You two could be brothers.”

Rob and Mitch looked at each other, the resemblance was striking. Same height, same build, same facial structure, same eyes…No wonder Paula had found herself attracted to the young doctor. He was a younger brunette version of her husband. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?

Rob laughed and reached out to shake hands, “My brother looks nothing like me!”

“True,” Paula agreed, and then thought, but your sons do.

“Mitch,” Paula pointed to the boys, “This is Jason, Kevin and Keith.”

“Glad to meet you,” he acknowledged. “I’ll be on my way, now. I have my own horses to attend to.”

After making the hug and kiss round with all her boys and Rob, they headed inside. Paula was looking at Rob, silently calculating in her mind.

“What?” He finally asked.

“It’s possible,” she stated.

“Possible?” he scrunched his brows. “What’s possible?”

“Nothing,” she kissed him, “Never mind, Dear. Let the boys set the table tonight. I could use your help with supper…I’m kind of behind now.”

~*~

Paula’s head was resting on Rob’s shoulder, his arm around her, darkness surrounding them in their bedroom. His deep, slow breaths reflected his level of contentment and relaxation. She, on the other hand, had invisible wheels turning in her mind.

“How old were you,” she asked quietly, “When you left Wentzville to go to UMR?”

He tilted his head to look toward her, “Eighteen, why?”

“Then you lived in Rolla for how long?” She kept questioning.

“Five years, why?” He was waking back up.

“Just curious,” she answered vaguely.

“I must be losing my touch,” he mused.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I just made mad passionate love to my wife,” he teased, “and that made her start asking questions about when I went to college. Surely I can inspire better thoughts than that!”

She laughed softly and kissed his chest playfully, “No, Dear, you’re definitely not losing your touch. I’m just thinking out loud. Did I mention to you that we have the place to ourselves Friday night?”

“Now, that’s what I call a better thought,” he caressed her hair, “How did you manage that?”

“The Nelsons,” she explained, “You know the homeschool family that

does the Boy Scouts? Their boys are in Day Camp this week too, so they offered to pick ours up Friday and have them over for the night.”

“Bless them,” he smiled, “We’ll have to return the favor before the summer’s out.”

“Yes,” she raised up and kissed him, “Now it’s late…we need to get some sleep.”

~*~

Paula was just finishing her sandwich for lunch when the vet truck pulled in. Sam barked, but ran up to it in a friendly greeting this time. She hurried out to meet the doctor.

“Didn’t expect you so early,” she called, “Want some lunch? I can fix you a sandwich.”

This time when he flashed her a smile, she could see Rob’s resemblance clearly, “No, thanks. I was just out on a call down the road, so I thought I’d stop in now. How’s Dancer?”

“She’s barely limping today,” Paula informed, as they walked the now familiar path, “I think we were right about the muscle. She seems like it’s going to be fine.”

“Hey, Dancer,” he cooed to the mare, like she belonged to him. She gave him a soft friendly snort, happy to see her newfound friend. “Let’s have a look at those legs, Sweet Girl.”

“So,” Paula started fishing for information, “You said you grew up in St. Louis?”

“Thereabouts,” he answered, somewhat absently, “We moved several times.”

“Your folks still live there, then?” She wondered.

“Well, they did…” he stammered around, “I mean, I guess…I considered them my folks…”

“What do you mean?” She tried not to sound too curious.

“Well,” he explained, rising to leave, “I was adopted. My adoptive parents both died in a car wreck about a year ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she started having an eerie feeling she might be on to something, “I have a pair of adopted cousins. She went on a long, unfruitful search for her real mother a while back. He never was interested.”

“I think the ‘search for the real mother’ is usually a girl thing,” he shrugged, “All I know is that my real mother was very young and that’s why she gave me up. She thought I’d be better off with a family. I’d say she was probably right.”

“Well,” Paula followed him to his truck, “That sounds like a healthy attitude. So, do you think it’s safe to stop the penicillin now?”

“I’d say so,” he agreed, “The swelling’s gone and she’s feeling good. I’ll stop in on Friday and check before the weekend.”

“OK, thanks,” Paula waved, as he got into his truck.

She watched him drive away. Too many coincidences. Something she didn’t believe in. But how could she prove it? Right now all she had was the duck rule—walks like a duck, sounds like a duck, must be a duck. She briefly considered talking to Terry, but thought better of it. That would be going behind Rob’s back. She couldn’t do that to her husband. Hmmm. She’d have to contemplate this for a while.

~*~

Dancer was back to herself on Thursday, doing the sidestep she was famous for, wanting out of her stall. Paula decided to turn her out in the small lot and left Sam to keep her company.

She headed into the small town nearby to pick up a few things for the approaching weekend. It was very rare for she and Rob to get time alone, and she intended to make the most of it.

“Party this weekend?” Judy, the cashier, asked, looking at the wine coolers, whipped topping, chocolate syrup and maraschino cherries.

“Sort of,” Paula laughed, “Night without the kids!”

Judy raised her eyebrows and laughed, “Well, that husband of yours is definitely a bowl of ice cream, but I’d take him without the toppings!”

Paula winked as she put the sacks in the cart to leave, “I do, regularly!”

“Enjoy, Hon!” Judy called after her.

Paula couldn’t keep from smiling as she put the groceries in her Jeep. She had long known that all the women in town drooled over her husband. Not only was he handsome and charming, but he had a reputation for being a devoted husband and father. A vanishing commodity these days.

She wondered how long it would be before news of Mitch got around. Good-looking, single and employed. He’d have women flocking to him before long.

Mitch…how was she going to find out if her hunch was correct? He obviously didn’t know, himself. Rob seemed unaware, as well. Too bad she didn’t have a friend working in a crime lab. She could take in hair samples and compare DNA…Oh, well, that stuff only happened in the movies.

~*~

There was thunder rumbling and lightning flashing as Rob walked into the bedroom. Paula already had her gown on and the bed turned down. He was still in old jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut out. A sight that could still make her knees go weak.

“Are the boys finally in bed?” She asked, crossing to him and beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“I think so,” he stood there, hands on his hips, smiling down at his wife, “They packed enough to stay for two weeks, instead of one night.”

“Oooh,” she purred, sliding his shirt off over his bronze shoulders, “Wouldn’t that be nice, two weeks?”

He chuckled as she undid his fly, “If we had two weeks alone together, we’d probably end up in the hospital.”

Just then, a clap of thunder sounded so close, it made Paula jump and squeal, and he instinctively grabbed her shoulders. They started laughing like school kids and he reached over to turn off the lights.

“If you’re afraid of thunder,” he teased, “what about the dark?”

“I don’t know,” she pulled him into bed, “The Boogie Man might get me in the dark…”

“Um-hmmm,” he started kissing her, “he just might…”

~*~

The rain had stopped the next morning, but the barn lot was a muddy mess. Paula debated, but after checking Dancer, decided it was safe to put her in the lot anyway. The cuts were healing nicely and they were all high enough that mud shouldn’t be an issue.

She was just coming from the barn when Mitch’s truck pulled up. He hopped out and greeted the Dalmatian, who ran up to him eagerly now.

“You’re here early,” Paula remarked. “Come on out and have a look.”

“I had a call to make on the way in this morning,” he explained, “So I thought I’d go ahead and run by.”

~*~

After looking at Dancer’s legs, he turned around to talk to Paula, “She looks really good…I’m guessing you can take the sutures out yourself…end of next week…”

Just then, Dancer, who had chosen to like Dr. Martin, decided he wasn’t paying enough attention to her. She used the full force of her nose, planted squarely between his shoulder blades, to send him sailing headfirst into the mud.

“Oh, Dancer!” Paula scolded, then reaching to help him up, “Are you OK, Mitch?”

He climbed to his feet, covered in mud from head to toe. Trying to no avail to wipe it from his eyes and face.

“I’m not hurt,” he conceded, “If that’s what you mean.”

Paula couldn’t keep from laughing at the sight, “She likes you!”

“Maybe it would be better if she hated me,” he started laughing too.

“Come with me,” Paula led him to the house, “I think you’d better take a shower…”

She took him in through the back door, where the laundry room was with a tile floor. She automatically lifted the lid of the washer and started water. She glanced up at the rack on the wall and grabbed an old looking robe.

“Here,” she took it down, “Strip in here and throw your clothes in the washer. Put this robe on and then come upstairs. I’m sure Rob has some old jeans and a shirt that’ll fit you. I’ll go see what I can find.”

She left him to do as he was told and headed to the master bedroom. Mitch and Rob were definitely the same height, although Mitch was thinner. She went to the back of the walk-in closet and started looking through the old stuff. Somewhere she knew Rob still had a stack of jeans that no longer fit, but he kept just in case he turned 30 again.

“Where’s the shower?” Mitch called, coming up the stairs.

“In here,” Paula jumped up from the pile of clothes she was sorting through.

He entered the bedroom, clad in Rob’s old flannel robe, mud still all over his face and in his hair. She pointed to the bathroom, grinning at the sight.

“Right in there,” she said, “Soap and shampoo in the shower. Fresh towels in the cabinet. I’ll lay some clothes out here on the bed for you.”

“Thanks,” he nodded, disappearing into the bathroom.

Paula finally found the jeans she was looking for and grabbed a shirt as she came out of the closet. She was just laying them on the bed when Mitch emerged from the bathroom, clean and naked as a jaybird.

“Jeez!” She exclaimed, “I gave you a robe!”

“Oops!” He laughed, blushing slightly, but obviously not too embarrassed, “Sorry.”

When he turned to retrieve the robe, Paula couldn’t prevent noticing the last piece of confirmation she needed. She must have gasped at the sight, because he turned back around and gave her a questioning glance.

“What the…?” They both spun around to see Rob standing in the doorway, a dozen roses in one hand and his mouth hanging open.

A look of sheer horror flooded Mitch’s face, as he realized Rob might shoot first and ask questions later. Paula, knowing her husband as she did, tossed the clothes at Mitch and launched an attempt to explain.

“Rob, it’s not what it looks like…”

His face red with anger, eyes full of pain, Rob threw the roses at her, turned on his heels and stormed out.

“Put the clothes on,” she ordered to Mitch, heading after her husband, “Rob, wait!”

He was already down the stairs and out the front door before she caught up with him. His long legs were capable of covering a great deal of distance quickly when he so chose, and she was running to keep up. She grabbed his arm and he swung around, still fuming.

“Please, Rob,” she spoke as calmly as she could manage, taking both of his hands in hers, “You know me better than this…Calm down and let me explain. Take a deep breath and just listen for a minute.”

He drew in a deep breath and as his anger started subsiding, she saw a tear escape one eye, “You better start talking.”

“Oh, Honey,” she reached up and wiped the tear away, like she would have done with one of her sons, “I’m so sorry…I know how that looked…But I swear, it was all perfectly innocent. He just came by to check Dancer, and she’s back to her old self now, so she tossed him in the mud—face first!”

She saw his mouth twitch, fighting back a smile at the thought. She also saw Mitch approaching out of the corner of her eye.

“I told him he could take a shower here to clean up,” she continued, “And I found some of your old clothes for him to put on…”

“She gave me a robe,” Mitch piped in, “I just didn’t put it on because I thought she’d already left the room. I am SO sorry, Sir.”

Rob shot him a suspicious look, still unsure of his intentions. However, the sincerity in Mitch’s face dispelled his remaining anger.

“Let me guess,” Rob ventured, his normal humor returning, “Dancer got you from behind.”

Mitch nodded, a smile spreading on his face, as he glanced at Paula to see if she was as relieved as he was.

Paula, however, decided there was no time like the present to drop the bomb she’d been hauling around the better part of the week, “Listen, both of you…There’s something you’ve got to know.”

A look of concern returned to Rob’s face as he recognized her tone of voice, “There’s more?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I’ve had this growing suspicion all week and now I’m certain I was right. Rob, look at him, he looks just like you.”

“We’ve already established that,” he shrugged, “So?”

“Mitch,” she asked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-six,” he answered reluctantly.

“Do the math, Rob,” she told him. “That would have made you 19 when he was born.”

“So?” He wasn’t going to concede anything.

“So,” she prodded, “He’s from the St. Louis area.”

“Do you know how many people live in St. Louis?” He asked. “Look, Paula, I know where you’re going with this, but…”

“He’s adopted,” she stopped him with that one, “His mother was young and had to give him up.”

Mitch and Rob exchanged looks at that last remark. Reality was starting to come crashing through on both of them.

“Are you going to stand there and tell me there was NO ONE before you left for college that could possibly have not TOLD you that she was pregnant?” She posed her theory. “Maybe didn’t even know it herself, until after you were gone?”

Rob sighed, “OK, it’s possible.”

“You said you’re certain,” Mitch remarked, “Why?”

“Because of what I saw today when you came traipsing into the bedroom in your birthday suit,” she shared, “You have the same…and I mean the EXACT same…birthmark that Rob has.”

Paula was still holding Rob’s hands and she felt their grip tighten as he looked from Mitch to her and back again. The birthmark she referred to was located on the right cheek of his buttocks.

“Do you know your mother’s name?” Rob finally asked.

“No,” he shook his head, “I don’t think my folks…I mean the people who adopted me…I don’t think they knew. I just never felt the need to dig it up, you know?”

“When’s your birthday?” Rob asked.

“February,” he answered.

Rob was good at math and did the subtraction in his head quickly, “Well, I’ll tell you her name…Mary. She had hair the same color as yours, and her eyes were as blue as mine. She was sixteen and her father hated me. She wouldn’t have told anyone, including me, because he would have hunted me down and shot me.”

“Do you guys want to come inside and talk?” Paula suggested.

“I’ve got to go to work,” Mitch shook his head, which was spinning by now, “Listen, I’m sorry again about all this misunderstanding…Maybe we can get together and figure all this stuff out…”

Rob finally let go of Paula’s hands, “Yeah, we’ll have you over for dinner one night next week, OK?”

“Sounds good,” Mitch jumped into his truck, eager to leave.

Rob let out a sigh and looked down at his wife. He reached for her and pulled her into his arms, remembering why he’d come home in the middle of the day to begin with.

“Thank you for the roses,” she whispered, as he held her close, “You took the day off, huh?”

“I was going to surprise you,” he chuckled, “Guess I was the one that got surprised.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she leaned back so she could look into his eyes, “I was pretty surprised when you walked in!”

“I’m sorry I threw the roses at you,” he kissed her gently.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she caressed his face, “Even if it was unintentional, and innocent, I know it hurt. I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

“Make it up to me?” His eyes were dancing now.

“Um-hmm,” she kissed the part of his chest that was exposed by his unbuttoned polo shirt, “We have all day and all night for me to do just that.”

He pulled her closer and she could hear the emotion in his voice, “Do you know how much I love you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” she had never seen such pain in his eyes as when he had walked into the bedroom that day, “Do you know how much I love you? Need you? That I would never, could never, betray you. You’re my life, Rob. My whole world.”

He buried his face in her loose hair and she could feel his breath against her ear, “Just the thought of you…it nearly killed me to see you there with him.”

Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. All these years together, and this was the first time either of them had ever really hurt the other. They had always been so perfectly in sync.

She pulled away and looked into his eyes, almost whispering, “Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Sweetheart,” he kissed her, softly at first, then more passionately, “Let’s go in…I’ll pick up the roses and come back out and we’ll just start all over, OK?”

“Do you really think,” she asked, as they walked up the steps, arms around each other, “that once you walk into that bedroom, I’m going to let you leave?”

“Well,” he pulled the front door closed behind them, and glanced up the stairs toward their bedroom, “will you at least let me come up for air from time to time?”

“Maybe,” she started pulling his hair loose from the tie that held it back, “Maybe not…care to find out?”