Chapter 25

Late, Late

When Winona got them to Interstate 65 South to Nashville, she set the cruise control and sat back to relax for the long leg ahead, 171 miles in fact.

"I didn't think Gayle was ever going to let us leave her house," Winona said to Raylan, who had leaned way back into his seat on the passenger side, reclined with the hat over his eyes. "I was anxious to get on the road after Willa went to sleep. If she had woken up, it would've been hard to leave her."

"I swear, I think she grew since I saw her yesterday," he mumbled.

A smile came over Winona's face. "That's sweet, Raylan, but I don't see how that's possible." After a beat of silence, she reminisced, "I sure did need that . . . in the shower tonight."

"You know how much I love it when you need it," he smiled. And then randomly, he uttered, "Shit."

"What?" she asked.

Sitting up a little, he clarified. "It just now dawned on me, I didn't use protection tonight. In the shower." Then, sounding a little defensive, he added, "Ya' surprised me."

"Uhhhhhmmmmm. Yeah. About that," she hesitated. "Raylan? . . . I'm late."

"Late?" he sat up even more. "As in late, late?"

"Uh-huh," she winced, waiting for his reaction.

"How late?" he asked.

"Two weeks, I think," she admitted. "I mean with a new baby and breast feeding and all, I really haven't been keeping good track. I'm not supposed to be able to get pregnant that easily while I'm breast feeding, but that is in no way fool proof."

As tired as Raylan was, he was wide awake now. He shifted his weight in his seat, pulled the lever up which brought his seat to an upright position, removed his hat, and lightly tossed it into the back, brim up. "There was that time, not that long ago, I got really carried away . . . and the condom broke."

"Carried away? Like I did tonight?" she smiled. "And I enjoyed every minute of it."

"As did I," he grinned back at her.

"But yeah," she nodded. "There was that time."

"Do ya' have any symptoms?" he asked, trying to remember when she was early on in her pregnancy with Willa.

"My boobs are sensitive," she said, putting her left arm protectively across them as she held onto the steering wheel with the other hand. "Like they were when I was pregnant with Willa. Oh, and I'm horny as all hell let loose." She glanced over at him. "As a matter of fact, if we weren't on our way to rescue my terminally ill father who has kidnapped his grandson, I'd pull this car over right now and have my way with you . . . again!"

Raylan raised an eyebrow. "Do say?"

"You and I enjoy a very satisfying sex life together, but don't you think this is a little unusual . . . for me?" she asked in all sincerity.

"I don't mind," he shrugged. "You won't hear me complain."

Winona suddenly fell silent.

"Is it too soon for ya' to do a pregnancy test?" he asked.

"No, I guess not," she answered. "I haven't had time to pick up a test at the drug store. Or talk to you. We've had a lot going on lately."

"That we have," he agreed.

"So? What if I am? Pregnant, again?" she asked him. "We talk about a lot of things. Like having another baby. Getting married again. Where we might live. We talk." She sighed. Her next thought, "But we don't DO anything about it," went unsaid.

Without hesitation, Raylan declared, "I love ya', Winona. I'll never love another woman like I love you. And I'd love to marry ya' again. It feels funny introducin' you as my ex, my daughter's mama, and not as my wife. That's not the way I feel about ya'."

"It just seems like it's too soon after Willa to be pregnant," she confessed.

"You were worried about havin' Willa, and look how that turned out," he smiled. "You wouldn't trade that baby for the world."

She smiled. "No, I would not."

"Are ya' still wantin' to have your way with me?" he asked with a grin on his face.

"It's awfully tempting," she said. "But I think I can wait."

"Have it your way," Raylan said. He slid down in the seat, grabbed the hat from the backseat, and once again covered his face.

Winona drove on, a little over the speed limit, a plan forming in her mind.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Rachel and Anna walked over to a Thai restaurant, just two blocks over from the Courthouse. It was such a nice, warm night, they decided they to walk, as they had been sitting for far too long at the office.

"What's good here?" Anna asked as they entered the small establishment

"The Pad Thai is good . . . Raylan's favorite," Rachel answered, flashing a wave to the owner who was on the other side of the dining room. "Mine is the Drunken Noodle." Rachel helped herself by reaching over the counter and handed Anna a menu. "Are you a rice or a noodle girl?"

Without missing a beat, Anna answered, "Noodle."

Rachel pointed out the page that listed all the noodle dishes.

"Miss Marshal!" The owner came running. "You want to sit or take-out?"

"I'm in a hurry, as usual, Mr. Aken," Rachel was honest. "Can you get us served pretty fast if we eat here?"

"Yes," he answered and led them to a nearby two-top. "Just don't order the duck."

"No chance of that," Rachel said as both ladies took a seat. The duck dishes were the priciest on the menu.

"You want your usual, Miss Marshal?"

"Yes, with chicken," she answered. "And just water to drink."

He looked at Anna. "And for you, Miss?"

Concerned about the time, Anna asked, "Is the Tom Ka still fresh? Or do you make it to order?"

"I make the Tom Ka this evening. It still fresh," he convincingly said.

"Great! I'll have that and some salad rolls with chicken." Thinking of Adam, she added, "And could I have a Pad Thai with tofu 'To Go'?"

"How spicy you want Pad Thai?" Mr. Aken asked.

"Medium spicy," she answered, handing her menu to him. "And water is fine for me, too" she nodded.

Once the owner walked away from earshot, Rachel leaned in. "Your Adam sounds like the answer to a LEO's prayer. He cooks for you, travels. He's understanding about your job. Has great taste in jewelry." Rachel was only half teasing when she asked, "Does he have a brother?"

Anna chuckled. "No, I'm afraid not. He has four sisters."

Changing the subject a little, Rachel asked, "So, how is it going with you and Raylan?"

Anna chose her words carefully. "I really like him. He's . . . different."

"That, he is," Rachel agreed. "If I'm being too nosy, tell me to hush, but . . . How are he and Winona getting along these days?"

"Great," Anna answered, thinking the question was a little odd. But she had also gathered, from the short time she'd spent with the Lexington marshals, Raylan was the constant target of playful ridicule from his colleagues. His life was pretty much an open book. "Raylan shared with me that, while Winona may be the love of his life, she's left him . . . more than once. They both say they're making a go of it this time, for Willa's sake." She took a sip of her water. "He said she has a problem with his job. Is that it or is there more? And like you said, if I'm being too nosy, just tell me to hush, too."

"All I know is that Winona has a nice, stabilizing effect on him when they are getting along," Rachel offered.

"And when they're not?"

"Well," Rachel was reflective. "He drinks too much, and then . . . there's the ladies. Raylan is full of Southern charm and swagger. The ladies sure like him, that's for sure. After Winona left him this last time, he had a couple of flings that didn't turn out too well," Rachel shared, then thought perhaps she had shared too much.

Anna sensed it and immediately put Rachel at ease. "Winona talked to Adam about the bartender, Lindsey."

"Yeah," Rachel shook her head. "He sure missed the mark with her and her criminal associations. For someone who has such good people instincts, he's blind when it comes to the ladies."

Anna pushed a little more and asked, "So, what is it exactly about Raylan's job that Winona doesn't like?

"When he first came to our office, Raylan wasn't good when it came to wearing his vest, calling for help. Following rules. He's better at the first two . . . now."

"He strikes me as kind of a lone wolf type," Anna nodded, drawing from her profiling background.

"He doesn't like anyone telling him what to do, that's for sure. Not without a damn good reason," Rachel nodded. "But he's a great guy. He's done right by me on the job. Except for the ladies, he really does have incredible instincts when it comes to people. Uncanny. I've learned a lot from him."

"Yeah," Anna shook her head. "I see that."

Shifting in her seat, Rachel added, "Then, there's Harlan."

Anna moved forward, "Winona certainly has no love lost when it comes to Harlan."

"She has reason." Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Raylan's been whipped, framed, impersonated, shot at more than once, drugged, strung up in the trees, and then, beaten like a piñata."

Genuinely surprised, Anna asked, "All that happened in Harlan?"

"Yeah." Then, Rachel shuddered. "That impoverished, backwoods place gives me the heebie-jeebies. It's the land of clans, moonshine stills, oxy, and 100 year feuds. Those ignorant redneck hillbillies shoot people of color like you and me after dark, just for sport."

Anna took in a deep breath. The picture of Harlan that Rachel painted gave her a deeper insight into why she might have been put up for adoption.

Mr. Aken returned with their meals. Shifting their conversation to lighter, small talk, the two women were famished and quickly ate their food. In less than ten minutes, Rachel asked that the rest of her entrée be boxed up so that she could take it home. They paid the nominal bill with cash, left the restaurant with bagged food in hand, and walked back to the courthouse parking lot to Rachel's car. They left, on their way to Louisville.

What they didn't know is that they did not leave Lexington alone.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

When Raylan stirred about an hour later, Winona reached over and poked him. "Ready to drive for a while?"

He sat up, stretching. "Sure. You hungry?" He pointed out a row of the usual fast-food restaurants. "We could grab a bite and switch drivers."

"Sounds good."

Later, with a full stomach and Raylan behind the wheel, Winona allowed herself to drift off. When she woke, they were nearing the Tennessee state line. She looked around, peering into the darkness. "Is this Goodlettesville?" She asked Raylan for his phone and punched in some information. "The turn-off onto TN-155 isn't far from here."

There it is," she said, on the lookout for US-41A North. Upon finding it, she said, "Now, you're going to make a series of quick turns. Turn left on Eatons Creek Road. Then, right onto Gray's Point Road. Then, left on Marrowbone Lake Road."

Raylan made every turn.

"The last one is left on Lake Road. It's the first cabin on the right," she read from the text on his phone.

Finally, they arrived at their destination.

Raylan stretched and let out a yawn. It was after midnight, but the full moon lit up the clearing where the cabin sat and reflected off the strip of lake water visible from the driveway. The 'cabin' was a lot bigger than he'd had it pictured. "How many bedrooms does this place have anyways?"

"Six, if I'm remembering right. Gayle and I used to sleep in the loft." Winona pointed to the peak of the cabin. "It's tiny, but there's a huge window that looks out onto the lake." She opened the car door and stepped out, inhaling deeply. "I'd forgotten how much I loved this place."

"Pete said he'd leave a key under the mat for us," he said, walking toward the wrap-around porch. He felt under the heavy mat by the front door and came up with the key. Opening the door he let out a low whistle. The interior of the cabin was as impressive as the outside. The door opened into a great room with two enormous windows looking out onto the moonlit lake. A stone fireplace stood against one wall, the other wall opened into a well-appointed kitchen. "Pete must do pretty well for himself," Raylan observed.

Winona tossed her purse on the leather couch. "The cabin and the dealership were his father's," she said. "He started out with one Ford dealership and branched out. Now, he sells Hondas and Mercedes, too. He has four or five dealerships in the Nashville area."

"He's gotta be a millionaire."

"Probably." She shrugged. "He doesn't act like one. I remember him wearing jeans most of the time."

"Well, this is Nashville," Raylan observed.

"Yeah," she nodded. "He's sold cars to a bunch of country music stars. He has a big picture here somewhere of him and his daddy with Garth Brooks."

"Next, you'll be tellin' me the story of how Pete sold a car to Kenny Chesney."

"Don't be silly," she bantered. "If Pete had known Kenny Chesney, I wouldn't be standing here now . . . with you."

She walked over to the window and looked out, and Raylan came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her neck.

"I want to check on Daddy and Davis," she said, turning to face him.

"And then?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"And then . . . we'll see," she teased.

She left him there in the spacious room while she tiptoed down the hall and peeked into the first bedroom. It had been turned into a study, much larger than she remembered. When she returned to the hall, she thought maybe it was two bedrooms that had been turned into the one study.

The next room she peaked into was a weight room, and she flipped on the light switch. There was a treadmill, a top-of-the-line Bowflex machine, and a ballet bar with a floor-to-ceiling mirrored wall. The fourth room she checked remained a bedroom with two sets of bunk beds set on separate walls. She then headed for the master bedroom, the last door down. She quietly opened it to find the silhouette of her dad in the king-size bed, softly snoring with little Davis snuggled up next him. Both were sound to sleep.

Winona stood there for a moment, watching her father's chest rise and fall. He seemed to be breathing just fine, taking nice, even breaths. She remembered as a child always being able to sleep so soundly in this place. She credited it to the fresh air. Satisfied they were both all right, she carefully closed the door and made her way back down the hall.

"They're out," she whispered, taking Raylan by the hand. "Follow me." She led him to the other side of the room, to a staircase. At the top of the stairs, they were standing in the loft, overlooking the great room below.

"It's just the same," she said. The room was large and airy, with yet another window to the lake, plus the view of the living area below. The moonlight reflected off the water and into the great room and loft and cascaded down from the skylight. A built-in bed sat against one wall, covered with a hand-stitched quilt. Several pillows were stacked at the head. Winona turned and took his hand, pulling him toward it.

Raylan faked a yawn. "Yeah," he said. "I'm tired, too. We'd better get some shut-eye."

"Tired, huh?" Her nimble fingers made short work of his button and zipper and her hand snaked into his boxers. His reaction was instantaneous, and she smiled. "You don't seem all that tired, to me."

"I s'pose I could stay awake long enough for ya' to have your way with me," he teased and flashed her a willing grin.

Winona helped him ease down to the bed, onto his back. Once he was prone, she tugged his boots and socks off and then, went in straight for his belt buckle. Raylan reached down to help her ease his jeans past his hips, where they soon joined his socks and boots on the floor. He sat up and pulled his jacket and shirt over his head and then, watched Winona tease him as she kicked off her shoes and took off her clothes, bra, and panties. She pulled a clip out of her hair, causing her sun-kissed tresses to fall to her shoulders and over one side of her face. Her skin and eyes gleamed in the moonlight. She joined him on the bed, crouching over him on all fours.

Raylan reached up, moving her hair to one side and cupped her face in his hand. His touch was strong yet warm and tender, and she turned her head and kissed the inside of his wrist.

"You're beautiful," he said, keeping his voice down. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Keep talking," she purred, feeling the heat generating between them.

His gaze moved from her face, to her neck, and down to her breasts. "Absolutely beautiful," he repeated. When he reached up take her full breasts in his hands, she gently reminded him, "Take it easy, Cowboy."

He sat up and, rather than devour her as he normally would, he gently took one breast in his mouth, and then the other, teasing her nipples with the tip of his tongue until they became erect. She reached down to find him in the same state, and she playfully stroked him with her fingers. His breathing became heavier as his desire grew. She broke from him and backed away, down his body, and he watched as her mouth skillfully worked its magic. He leaned back, amazed at how well this woman knew his body and how it ticked. She did, indeed, have her way with him. He held back the inevitable as long as he could, until he could hold no more . . . and he stifled his pleasure moans at the moment of release.

Breathing heavily, he tugged at her shoulders, lifting her up and into his arms. Raising himself up on his side, he eased Winona onto hers, and he reached down and dipped a finger inside, finding she was primed. He turned her on her back and sensually kissed his way down her body to the epicenter of her pleasure, skillfully reciprocating by having his way with her. She found herself slowly writhing against him, encouraging him to take her over the edge. Her fingers plunged into his hair as her entire body shook in its own, exquisite release.

He held her until her shaking subsided and his breathing returned to normal. Not wanting to move, eventually they did and crawled underneath the cozy quilt. Raylan spooned her from behind, his arms around her, his hand resting on her abdomen.

He spoke softly in her ear. "So, if you are pregnant again . . ."

She turned to face him. "That's a big 'if' Raylan," Winona said, but her eyes were worried.

The smile left his face, replaced with a look of concern. "Hey." He stroked her hair back from her face. "It'll be okay."

"One unexpected baby is one thing," she sighed. "But two? I wanted our second baby to be planned."

"Oh," he grinned at her. "You were thinkin' about us havin' a second baby?"

She shrugged, blushing. "Well, a couple of months ago, when I was up to my ears in dirty diapers and spit-up, and you were nowhere to be seen I wasn't."

He blew out a breath and flopped over onto his back. "Why do ya' always do that?"

"What?" She leaned up on one elbow, looking down at him.

"When I know I screwed up, ya' always have ta' remind me."

She chewed her lip. "I'm sorry." She slid down, laying her head on his chest, and he slung an arm around her. "You're a good father, Raylan. That's what got me to thinking about another baby. Eventually. Not now."

"Our timin's always been a little off," he agreed, fighting to hold back a yawn. "But we're managin' to make this work with Willa, and we'll make it work with another little one if need be." He tilted his head to study her face. "Okay?"

"Okay." She managed a small smile. "Maybe this one will be a boy."

"A boy would be nice," Raylan mumbled. Exhaustion was getting the better of him. "Even up the teams."

She took his arm and brought it in, closer around her. "We're getting to be a little too old to have the baseball team. I know I am."

Raylan fell quiet. She looked up and saw he was drifting off to sleep, Winona's eyes took another look around the room that held such childhood memories for her. Lying there with the man she loved, with one baby and perhaps another one on the way, she would never again look at this room in the same way.

(To be continued . . .)