Whispers of Moonlight (30 page)

"I don't want you to be such a stranger," Robert told Travis. He and Eddie had been home with Jackie for several weeks, but the young rancher had seen what a stress it was for Eddie's sister when they were at church and only shook his head.

"I can't do that to Jackie right now, Robert. I can see how hard it is for her, and my presence is only going to make things worse. I can tell that she thinks everyone is staring at her."

"Well, many of them do," Robert admitted, "but it's not in the pitying or negative way she imagines. She and Eddie came into town to shop today.
We went to lunch. I could tell she was terrified, but Eddie plans to take her every week until she's more comfortable.

"She should enjoy that once she gets used to it."

"I hope so, but now we're off the subject. Why don't you come for dinner tonight?"

Travis began to shake his head, but Robert put a hand up, his voice at its most persuasive.

"It's already after 4:30, so there's no need for you to go all the way home, and you don't have to stay long after we've eaten. I know Eddie would like tti see you."

"All right, I'll come. When are you going to head home?"

"Around 5:00, but don't wait for me. Go on to the house and keep Jackie company. She needs to get out of herself."

"All right."

The men stood. "By the way, how are things going with Lucky and the ranch?"

"I'm not any farther along with Lucky, but things at the ranch are running well. Maybe I'll have a chance to tell you about it tonight."

"All right. I'll see you at the house."

"I can't remember what color your eyes are," Jackie admitted shyly.

"Blue. Light blue."

"Do you wear a hat, Travis?"

"Yes. A black cowboy hat."

"Felt?"

"Yes. Here," he lifted it off the seat beside him. "Feel it."

He pressed the hat into Jackie's hands and watched as she studied it through her fingertips.

"What color is the band?"

"Black. Black on black. Not very exciting." His voice was kind.

"It's so soft."

"Here now." Travis rose and came to her. "Try it on. You live in Boulder now, and you have to look the part."

A small smile pulled at the corners of Jackie's mouth, and when he put the hat on her head, she asked, "How's that?"

"You look fine," Travis told her, but a small spark of pain hit his chest. A seeing person would have moved it back as it nearly covered her eyes.

"Robert just came in," Eddie announced from the doorway. "Why don't you come into the dining room and sit down?"

"Okay. May I offer you my arm, Jackie?"

"Sure." She stood and waited for him to remove the hat. Moving carefully, Travis put the hat back on the chair and men took her hand to draw it through his arm. He was just as careful as he led the way to ihe dining room, but he couldn't miss the strain on her face. He wondered what she was thinking. Travis' thoughts ran in all directions, and he was so concerned that his eyes sought Eddie's as soon as they entered the room. She only smiled kindly at him. Jackie reached for the table, and Travis forced himself to let her go. He watched anxiously as she felt her way around, but Eddie and Robert, who had now come into the room, took it in stride.

Jackie did not volunteer many words during the evening, but she did need help with certain things. Travis saw for the first time what a great job the Langleys were doing. They were patient and kind, never once showing Jackie any pity. The meal was wonderful and conversation was satisfying, but Travis left with a special appreciation for all that the banker and his wife were doing. They hadn't had time to talk about the ranch, but that was all right with Travis. He spent the rest of the evening praying for everyone under Robert Langley's roof.

25

"No, no, I won't get in!" Garrett kept up his crying for many minutes, but Angel persevered. He had managed to soak the entire kitchen and Angel i
_n
the process, but she finally had him in the tub. He repeatedly told her he would not get in the tub even after she had him in place, but at least the job w%g getting done.

"If you get soap in your eyes, don't blame me," Angel now gritted out. For a moment the howling four-year-old settled.

"I don't want a bath. Where's Wyatt?"

"I've got him locked in the closet," Angel told him without a hint of mercy as she scrubbed at his cars, and even with the cloth plugging one ear he could hear his brother's cries of outrage and his booted feet as they kicked the inside of the pantry door.

"I want my mama," Garrett began to cry.

"That makes two of us," Angel said, her voice still hard. "Now," she spoke with Garrett's head held in her hands, "you get into your pajamas and sit on the bed and wait for me. If you don't, I won't give you any supper."

Looking into Angel's outraged face, Garrett nodded obediently, but only because he knew she meant it. He and Wyatt had gone without supper just the night before.

"It's too bad you're not old enough to go to school," Angel muttered as she wrapped a piece of toweling around his small dripping frame.

"I'm almost five," the dark-haired twin told her defensively, his chin jutting forward at an aggressive angle.

"Not until November, and that's nearly two months away. Now get upstairs and do as I told you." Angel glared at him until he was out the door and then went to wrestle an insulted Wyatt from the closet. She was twice as wet when she was finished with the second boy, but both were subdued during dinner and at bedtime.

"It's still light out," Wyatt complained as Angel finally ushered them into the bed they shared, the bed that had been hers for so many years. "We don't go to sleep till it's dark."

"You will tonight," Angel told them, but she said it without heat.

"When will we see Mama?" Garrett asked. Angel finished adjusting the covers and sat down against the footboard. The boys sat in front of their pillows,
not identical in looks, but clearly brothers. One was as light as the other was dark. Had Angel but known it, Garrett had his father's dark hair and light blue eyes, while Wyatt was blond and brown-eyed like his mother.

"I don't know yet," she told them honestly, without giving any details. "Preston is going to come in a little while and stay with you, and then I'll go and visit your mother at Dr. Creamer's."

"Why can't Gary and I go too?" Wyatt asked.

"Because your mother is still too sick. She can't hold you or take care of you, and you might catch what she has and get sick too. I'll tell you what," Angel said as she stood. "If you'll go right to sleep, I'll tell you first thing in the morning how she's doing."

They were clearly not happy with this, but both lay back on the pillows. She leaned over them, pulling the covers high, and kissed both their foreheads.

"Go to sleep now and dream nice things."

"Is Preston bringing his stick?" Garrett's voice wobbled as he asked.

"Yes, but he won't need it if you stay in bed."

Both boys nodded and watched as she pulled the shade on the room's single window. The room darkened slightly, but not so much that Angel couldn't
see their faces. They looked like they could worry themselves ill, but sleep was rushing in too fast. Angel left with a small shake of her head. Never had she known anyone like them.

"I've never known anyone like her," Dr. Creamer commented as he and Angel left Rebecca's sickroom. "As if two boys weren't enough, she takes on laundry for half the town. Did you
see her arm? Skin stretched over bone."

"I know." Angel's voice sounded resigned. "She's bound and determined that those boys won't go without a thing."

"The only thing those boys need is a crack to the backside," the doctor said grimly.

"Well, Preston has seen to that a few times, and they're doing fairly well. But they're too much for Becky."

"Only because she won't discipline them. How are you holding up?"

"I'm all right. Getting tired. It's no wonder that she got sick, and I'm only taking care of the boys. I don't know how she does it all."

"Clearly,
she doesn't," the doctor spoke bluntly. "Although I think she's out of the worst of it. For a time I thought we might lose her."

Even having heard this before, Angel was visibly shaken at the thought of Rebecca's death.

"Why don't you head back. Angel." His tone was compassionate. "It will be some time before she's up and around. Go on now; Preston will be looking for you."

Angel did as he bade. She was holding up well as she went back down the street but nearly crying when Preston met her at the door.

"She's not—" he said in fear.

"No," Angel told him huskily. "I'm just upset at the idea of it. Doc says the worst is over, but she'll not be on her feet anytime soon."

"Come on," Preston urged her, and they sat close on the davenport.

Angel's eyes went to the stairs. "Any noise from up there?"

"No, I've checked on them twice. They're both out cold."

"Good," she said softly and let Preston pull her close. She lay against him with her head on his shoulder. The feel and scent of his clean shirt relaxed her in a moment.

"How was she exactly?" he asked at last.

"Resting comfortably, but so thin and pale, Preston. It hurt to look at her."

Angel fell silent for a time. Preston was only too glad to hold her, although he knew he needed to get back to the Bell. His eyes roamed the room and came to rest on the small, round table that stood at the side of the davenport. With two fingers he lifted a pair of thin spectacles and brought them out for Angel's inspection. She sat up with a disgusted snort.

"Aren't those the most ridiculous things you've ever seen!"

"Weren't they yours?"

"Yes, but I don't know where I got them; they have only regular glass in them. Becky latched onto them when she was at the house a few weeks ago. As if it isn't enough to scrape her hair back like a peeled grape and wear ugly, shapeless clothes, she now adds those dreadful spectacles to her ensemble."

"I still don't understand. Angel. What's the point?"

"She can't stand to be attractive, Preston. It terrifies her. Every time one of her customers shows the least bit of interest, she
Does something else to make herself repulsive."