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Eventually, she put all the pictures back in the envelope, still unsure what to do about them. She could ask Farris’s advice. He knew his mother better than anyone. But somehow, India couldn’t imagine initiating that conversation. Farris’s jaw would tighten, his blue eyes would flash fire, and what then?
India wanted to know whether or not to let Dottie come across the photos at all. Would the shock of discovering the old envelope be detrimental to her health? But if Dottie knew the pictures were there in the box all along and expected to find them, how would she react if they were gone?
What a tangle. India wished fervently that she had never attempted this task without Dottie. She hadn’t been snooping. But the end result was the same. She had found out things she didn’t want to know.
And then an even worse thought occurred to India. If she went to Farris and asked for his advice, she ran the risk of giving him a piece of information that Dottie might have been hiding for more than three decades.
If Farris didn’t know his original surname, India would be handing him ammunition.
Good grief. How did something as seemingly innocent as organizing photographs turn into a potential crisis?
In the end, she tucked the envelope inside her sweater and sneaked back to her room, hoping Farris was still occupied out on the ranch. She tried to read a book she had brought with her from New York, but though it was a bestseller, it didn’t keep her attention. Too many thoughts occupied her mind.
When her phone dinged around five, signaling a text, she picked it up with trepidation. Farris’s name on the screen made her heart race...
Wear something nice for dinner. It’s just you and me. We’ll celebrate not getting eaten by a bear. :)
The text was remarkably lighthearted, coming from Farris.
What about Dottie?
She’s having a tray in her room.
Is she okay?
She’s great. Wants to watch TV. See you at six?
India smiled. I’ll be there.
What exactly did “nice” mean? When she and Farris were first married, they’d often dressed for dinner. It was fun and romantic to eat at an intimate table for two beside their apartment’s fabulous plate-glass windows overlooking the skyscrapers of New York.
But Wyoming was a far cry from New York City.
Even though India’s boxes of winter clothes had arrived, her closet was woefully incomplete. Wear something nice? She shifted hangers from side to side. Something inside her wanted to knock Farris on his ass. Show him what he had given up. She would need to go for sexy and sophisticated using what she had.
Her little black dress had seen a lot of wear over the last few years. The scooped neck, cap sleeves and slim skirt that ended at her knees were both feminine and flattering. With black kitten heels and jewelry, the outfit would definitely do.
The house was warm. She had no plans to go outside, so her choice would be suitable at a dinner pour deux.
She showered and washed her hair, blowing it out until it brushed her jaw in a silky fringe. Next, she applied eyeliner, shadow and a touch of blush. Her hazel eyes that sometimes changed color to match her clothing or her mood were dark with excitement.
By 5:45, the butterflies in her stomach had turned into an entire migration. She felt mildly nauseated and infinitely torn.
Only this morning she had told Farris unequivocally that she shouldn’t sleep with him. Was she prescient when she said shouldn’t? Maybe her subconscious was more honest than she was. If Farris was suggesting a fancy dinner, and India was wearing makeup, wasn’t that code for sex afterward?
She couldn’t decide if she was elated or terrified.
As a finishing touch, she added the necklace and earrings Farris had given her on their wedding day. The earrings were simple—though flawless—diamond studs. The necklace was an eighteen-inch platinum chain interspersed with diamond stations.
She had always loved the pieces, because they were simple enough to wear every day. Some women might sell them after a divorce or stuff them in the back of a jewelry box. India had chosen to enjoy them despite what had happened.
Would Farris remember? Would he recall how he had surprised her? They had been in bed on their first night as a married couple. Farris made love to her with driving need and wild passion. In the aftermath, when they were both naked and breathless, he had reached under his pillow and produced two navy velvet boxes.
India had cried. Farris teased her gently as he put the necklace around her throat and helped her with the earrings. Then, of course, he made love to her again, this time with aching tenderness.
Now India stood in front of the mirror, absentmindedly stroking the chain with her fingertip. The woman in the mirror looked confused...torn. She had a great life in New York. Professionally and personally, she knew who she was in New York.
But now she was letting herself get sucked back into a relationship that was a dead end. She wanted a home and family. Stability. Children.
