Authors: Fern Michaels
Tags: #Coleman family (Fictitious characters), #Family
"I didn't even see that bastard come at me. He came out of nowhere. I had a bad feeling about that cloud cover. I could smell that slant-eyed son of a bitch."
"It was a little busy up there."
"The others get back okay?"
"Everyone's okay. Listen, fella, I've gotta get back to the wardroom. Try to sleep. You leave the Big E tomorrow at oh five hundred. Go to sleep and dream about them." Thad pointed to the photo over the bunk.
"Who put that there?"
"Your buddy, John Cuomo. He's always flying your wing tip, isn't he? He'd thought it'd cheer you up."
"Sure," Moss said tonelessly. He closed his eyes dutifully, but it wasn't Billie's pretty face he saw. It was the zero, coming out of the clouds at him. Over and over he played the scene in his head. He couldn't have handled it any other way. Now he was going to be in dry dock for a while. But not for the duration, by God. His bunk on the Big E would be waiting for him.
Seth Coleman hung up the phone, hands shaking, face drawn. Agnes waited, knowing that the message was about Moss. Her mind spun as she looked around the living room. She couldn't give all this up. There was no way she was going to give all this up! She forced herself to a calmness she didn't feel. Her voice was pitched low and full of concern. "What's wrong?"
"Those yellow sons of bitches got Moss." Agnes's heart thumped painfully in her chest. "They busted up his shoulder. Moss is being transferred to a San Diego hospital. We're going, Aggie. All of us. Tell Billie. Even the babies. The nurse and nanny, too."
Agnes heaved a silent sigh of relief. Alive, The man was too damn arrogant to die. Thank the good Lord.
"Do you know what I wish, Aggie?"
"What?"
"I'd like to blast the lily-livered yellow weasels right off the face of this earth. One of these days some smartass in Washington is finally going to say enough is enough and blow them to smithereens. They could have killed my boy, Agnes. He came that close."
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"It's not going to last forever, Seth. Try looking on the bright side of things. You're going to see Moss soon. I think it's wonderful that we can all go to welcome him back to the States. Billie will be so pleased."
"How's her health?" Seth asked bluntly.
"Good. Why do you ask?"
"Because I have a feeling if the girl doesn't get herself pregnant now, she might not get another chance. It's that simple, Aggie. I want a grandson. And it damn well better be a boy this time around. You're the girl's mother. If I were you, I'd make sure she understands she might not get another chance to give Moss a son. Plain and clear, Aggie. Don't talk around it. If you aren't up to it, I'll do it."
"Seth! I'll handle it. This is woman talk. I know you're upset right now. Let things be. I take it you're going to make all the arrangements."
"I always do. We'll rent a big house with lots of bedrooms and lots of privacy. Why the hell did it have to be Moss? Why couldn't it have been one of the others, like that Kingsley?" Seth said viciously.
"Seth! You should be ashamed of yourself. How would you like it if one of their parents said the same thing about your son?"
"I'd expect it. I'm no hypocrite, Aggie. If it has to be them or Moss, I want it to be them. Not Moss. Never my son."
Billie dialed the operator and rattled off Amelia's number. Her anger rose to volcanic proportions when she thought of how Seth had insisted Amelia didn't need to know about Moss being wounded. "Save your time, little gal, and my money and forget it," he'd said in his usual voice, as loud as a freight train pulling into the Philadelphia yard. His unruly gray eyebrows had shot up when she'd picked up the receiver in defiance and then he'd stomped back into his study and slammed the door shut. But this was one time she couldn't care less about Seth's disapproval. Amelia had a right to know and a furtive phone call from the upstairs hall would not do, not this time.
"We'll ring you back, ma'am, when we get your call through. Will the wire be free? It may be a while."
"I'll be here and the wire will be kept free." Billie replaced the heavy black receiver and stood looking at it for a moment.
Billie settled herself in the living room, trying to focus on the fashion magazines she had carried down from her room for
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just this puqjose. The minutes hung in the air; the quiet of the house accented the ticking of the clock on the mantel.
Four hours later the call came through. Billie picked up the receiver on the second ring. The operator's voice was clear, but Amelia's sounded scratchy and very far away. Billie pressed the phone tightly to her ear and spoke directly into the mouthpiece in a loud voice.
"I can barely hear you, Billie. What's wrong? Did something happen to Pap?"
Billie heard the anxiety in Amelia's voice, the concern for Seth. Her eyes went to the study door and then slid away. "No. He's fine! It's Moss, Amelia. He's got himself a shoulder wound. I thought you should know. We have every reason to believe he'll be fine. I wanted you to know."
"Is there anything I can do? Do you need me? Tell me the truth."
"It's just as I said. A wound. I'm fine, Amelia. Everyone is fine. How are you?"
"As good as can be expected. Have you gotten any mail from me?"
"Not recently."
"I wrote you a letter about the court case. It was a killer, Billie. A night didn't go by that I didn't cry myself to sleep. In the end, I had to flash the Coleman name and money. I hated to do it, but when it looked like I might lose, I brought it out. I had to prove to the courts I didn't need Rand's inheritance. Fortunately, his uncles couldn't prove the same. And of course they sliced me to pieces when they attacked my past and reputation. Whoever said the past is forever a part of the future must have been involved in a custody battle."
"Did you win, Amelia? That's what I want to know."
"Yes, thank the Lx)rd, but it was a fight every step of the way. You'd be proud, Billie. I didn't lose my temper once, not in front of the judges, anyway. I behaved like the lady my mother brought me up to be. In the clothes you designed for me I was the picture of confidence even though inside I was dying. I did everything you said; I followed every shred of advice you gave me. I'll never be able to thank you, Billie. Left to my own devices, I would have gone off half-cocked and blown the whole thing."
"I'm so happy for you, Amelia. I prayed it would work out for you."
"It was your positive attitude and confidence that helped
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me, Billie. When I think of that awful abortion and all I went through, I couldn't let those greedy vermin get Rand. I just couldn't. As Moss would say, it's a whole new ball game. I have to be a mother now and that means I must behave like one. A good one, do you know what I mean, Billie?"
"You can do it, Amelia. How's Rand?"
"Poor little tyke, he doesn't know half of what was going on, thank goodness. He's well. Really fme. That child loves me, Bilhe. Really loves me. When I think how close I came to losing him... Rand's uncles would have stopped at nothing and that would have included creating a doubt that my pregnancy was a direct result of my promiscuousness. Not that I ever was. At least not since I met Rand's father. It's been a hard thing to carry, Billie; you know what I'm talking about. But I couldn't have saved Rand if I hadn't done what I did. That boy means all to me, Billie, and he just thinks I'm his whole world."
There was such awe and emotion in the tinny voice coming over the wire that Billie was moved to tears. "Of course he loves you, Amelia. You're his mother!"
"I think we're about to be cut off, Billie," Amelia said hastily after a series of sharp clicks and static. "Give my love to Moss when you write. Take care of yourself and give Susan a squeeze for me. A letter is on the way. Write back."
The connection was broken before Billie could say good-bye.
Billie was pouring herself a glass of sherry to celebrate Amelia's victory when Seth came up behind her. "I heard the phone ring. What did the tramp have to say?"
"Tramp?"
"Amelia."
"Oh, you mean your daughter. Not much, Seth."
"You talked for a long time."
"Actually, Seth, I was doing more listening than talking."
"What did she tell you to tell me? What'd she say about Moss?"
"She told me to give Moss her love. Excuse me, Seth. I want to check the children."
Billie climbed the stairs, holding her back stiff and erect to hide the trembling she was feeling. She'd held her own there for a few minutes, anyway, and she owed Amelia that brief defense. Thank God things had gone well for her. Always it had been in the back of Billie's mind that Ameha might have
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sacrificed her own child for nothing. Now she would enjoy waiting for Amelia's letter, knowing it would have only good news. Good for you, Amelia. Good for you.
Amelia's letter arrived three days later, just before the Coleman entourage left Sunbridge for the Austin train station to begin their trip to San Diego and Moss. Seth and Agnes rode in the limousine while Billie, the children and the nurse rode in a separate car.
Billie carried the letter in her purse to read during the trip. It felt thick, a lot of news, Billie thought happily. The postmark was dated more than two months before. With the war, she realized, she was lucky to have received it at all.
Leaning back into the comfort of her seat, the children quieted by the motion of the moving car, Billie slit open the envelope. She had already heard the news about the trial, but there was more:
I've moved from London to a little village in the northeast. Billingford. London is torn to hell, thanks to Hitler, and each day we were forced to stay in the city filled me with dread. The nightly air raids and sirens frightened Rand. Fresh milk and eggs and all the other things young children need were difficult to get. Now there's fresh milk. I actually milk our one and only cow each day. Rand hasn't quite gotten the knack of pulling her teats, but he tries. We have a few chickens and fresh eggs daily. Meat is scarce. Rand, bless his little heart, will eat anything as long as we sit down together to eat. We take long walks, play ball, and I'm teaching him his letters and numbers. He seems to excel in arithmetic. Billie, can you believe I'm doing all this? I never knew how to cook and I never paid any attention in school, yet here I am, solely responsible for this child. I am taking it very seriously because I came so close to losing him. I can't ever allow that to happen again. Those dastardly uncles of his are not about to give up. I know they fell back to regroup and will have another go at me as soon as they can. My adoption of Rand won't be final for at least a year and with this danm war, it could take longer.
How are things in Texas? Is Pap still riding you hard?
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You're going to have to leam to speak up and say what you mean. Don't worry about offending him; the ignorant can't be insulted.
Write and tell me about the children. They must be growing like weeds. I know Rand is. Children are wonderful. They blossom before our eyes and thrive on love and affection. We must be certain our children know how much we care for them. We must never stop telling them how we love them. If you're laughing at me, Billie, I can't help myself. I'm so overcome with all these new emotions.
I want to hear the latest news of Moss. He hardly ever writes me. How is he? Where is he? Do you know? Send him all my love when you write and tell him of my victory. Moss was always my champion and I love him dearly. How lucky the big galoot was to have found you. Tell him I said so.
I must sign off for now. I promised to play croquet with Rand and he's standing here with the clubs waiting so patiently with Sally Dearest under his arm. Take care, dear Billie.
All our love, Amelia and Rand
Billie wanted to weep. Instead, she pressed the letter to her heart. Amelia was happy. Only one indirect mention of
Seth Billie sighed. Some things in life simply could not be
changed.
The entourage arrived in San Diego on a bright, blustery day. Moss was going to be confined to the hospital for at least two more weeks. Then he would spend his thirty-day recuperation in the rented house that stood high above the bay.
In its own way, the rambling, Spanish-style house was almost as luxurious as the one Seth had rented for Billie in Hawaii. The manicured lawns were magnificent, she thought. There was a tennis court and a heated pool, certainly a plus for anyone interested in swimming and tennis. She wasn't. Moss wouldn't be, either. There were servants, of course. Billie marveled at how easily she'd accepted having her needs catered to.
After settling the children and Agnes in the big house, Seth and Billie paid a first visit to the hospital. For the first time
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Billie didn't hang back, but ran ahead of Seth to Moss's room and to his arms. His eyes met Seth's stormy gaze in silent apology.
"Billie, Pap," Moss said, "this is so wonderful! A visit from the two most important people in my life. It's so good to see you." And then he whispered against Billie's soft hair, "You feel wonderful, Mrs. Coleman."
It was what Billie needed to hear. Confident that Moss was all right and wanted her, she relinquished her position to Seth. Her eyes glowed brightly as she watched Seth's clumsy efforts to embrace his son, cumbersome cast and all.
"I hope you gave those yellow bastards what for for doing this to you," Seth growled, his grip on Moss's good shoulder fiercely tight. Moss didn't flinch.
"He came at me from my blind side from out of cloud cover. He got me before I could do a thing. They got him—my wingman saw to that. He took over when he saw I was hit. He's one hell of a guy, Pap, They don't make them any better."
Seth bridled. Of course they did. His son was the best. There would never be anyone even as good as Moss, much less better. Why did Moss always make light of his accomplishments? By God, he'd taught him better than that!
"They tell me you're okay, boy. Lucky, they said. Time to make another donation to the church."