Eyes of Silver, Eyes of Gold (36 page)

The next day Cord sat perfectly still in one of the hard, straight-backed chairs in the small room outside Craig’s examining room. The doctor had been in when they arrived and no one else was about. Cord had been waiting for some time now, and the cold stone in his stomach was getting larger and colder by the minute.

When the outside door opened, he moved only his eyes. Rachel Miles Ross stood in the doorway, frozen with surprise and no little fear. Cord knew Rachel and Anne had been best friends since they were little girls and that Rachel and her family had provided Anne considerable comfort through hard times. He also knew Randal Ross was a selfish bastard who had forbidden his wife to so much as nod to Anne on the street. Although Rachel was alone, without even one of her growing young brood to tell tales, he wondered if she had the courage to ignore Randal’s orders.

She did. She walked into the room and sat in a chair as far from Cord as she could get, then cleared her throat nervously. “Is there anything wrong? Is Anne all right?”

“Fine.” Totally inexperienced with the kind of delicacy the situation called for, Cord couldn’t have explained the purpose of their visit to Rachel if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to.

They sat in silence until Craig stuck his head through the door to the treatment room. “Why, hello, Rachel, we’ll be through here and I can see you in just a minute. I’ve got that cough medicine for Jimmy all ready for you. Cord, why don’t you come on in. Anne thinks it would be easier if you heard this too instead of her trying to repeat it.”

Anne was sitting in another uncomfortable looking chair, pink faced. Just what exactly did a doctor examine to decide if a woman was pregnant, Cord suddenly wondered.

Craig was beaming at him, looking very pleased. “Anne’s exactly right. About three and a half months we estimate.” He chuckled with what looked like genuine pleasure. “I’m surprised you’re willing to come see me about it though. Last year I was sure you were going to die, and this year I’d still have bet against your becoming a father. I seem to make a habit of underestimating you.”

Cord said nothing, wondered if Craig knew about the sneering remarks about steers and geldings that had been made in his hearing in places like the feed store until one day Ed Bentley had crossed the line and mentioned Anne’s name. Cord had left Bentley on his back in a lot of pain with a wet stain spreading across the front of his trousers and left every townsman present that day with no doubt that mentioning Anne’s name was crossing a line better not crossed. Even so, putting up with that because Craig and his wife had big mouths didn’t make Cord feel like responding in kind to Craig’s light treatment of the subject.

Craig ignored Cord’s attitude and launched into detailed instructions on what he considered proper prenatal care. Pregnant women shouldn’t coddle themselves he said. He emphasized proper diet, plenty of non-stressful exercise and outlined a few dos and don’ts. When he began delicately indicating continued marital relations were possible with certain qualifications, Anne’s color, which had faded, rose again, and Cord was suddenly sure he was blushing himself. He clenched his jaw. Surely his skin was too dark for it to show.

When the doctor finally wound down and asked if they had any questions, Cord asked flatly, “Anne going to get to tell people this herself, or will it be all over town before we leave here?”

Craig’s smile and joking manner disappeared. “All I can tell you is that if it’s all over town from here, you can comfort yourself at my hanging. I’ll have murdered my wife, you see.” After a pause, he added, “I really am sorry. So is my wife. Nothing like that will ever happen again. You have my word.” He extended his hand. “And congratulations, I’m glad I was wrong.”

Cord relented and took the outstretched hand. “Doesn’t make much difference now, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t.” The doctor escorted them to the door, and said with no little understanding, “Rachel, why don’t you just come in when you’re ready.”

Seeing the two women standing looking at each other so tentatively, Cord muttered, “I’ll wait outside,” and disappeared.

Anne had often wished she could spend just a few minutes with Rachel again. Now here she was, and no words were necessary. She met Rachel in the middle of the room, and they fell into each other’s arms, hugging hard.

“Oh, Anne, I can’t tell you how much I’ve worried about you, how often I’ve prayed for you. Daddy says you’re all right, but that man is so frightening. Tell me truly, are you really all right?”

“Really all right,” Anne said. “In fact I never knew life could be so good. That frightening man is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Rachel straightened and searched Anne’s face. “Daddy says - is it true? Are you in love with him?”

“Any right-minded woman would love him after about five minutes. He is so good. Sometimes I wake up in the night, afraid, and I realize what I’m afraid of is what could have happened and didn’t. Whoever would think I’d get so lucky?”

“Lucky? Oh, Anne.” Rachel shook her head, almost laughing. “You do look good. Daddy might even be right. He says you glow.”

Before Anne could answer, she heard the sound of the door opening. Turning away from her friend before they could be seen together, she forced a neutral expression on her face and walked out as soon as the young mother entering had her three children all inside. If only she could have had a little more time with Rachel. If only.

* * *

Chapter 35

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE VISIT
to Craig dawned gray and with the threat of rain. Cord would have refused to make a trip to town except that Anne really wanted to go. She wanted tell her mother about the baby. She wanted to tell everyone and wouldn’t listen to anything he had to say on the subject.

“You’re not happy about it, so you don’t think anyone else will be,” she said, and after that refused to discuss it.

Even so, he thought he had convinced her to talk to her mother first and then Martha. Maybe the two older women could control the families’ initial reactions, or at least keep Anne from hearing the worst of it.

However, when Leona Wells showed up in Martha’s kitchen an hour earlier than usual with Rob right behind her looking as sullen as ever, Cord watched his worst fears play out.

Martha was gracious, and Leona apologetic. “I’m so sorry to be imposing like this. Please forgive me, but I couldn’t catch Anne at the church and I need to talk to her.”

Leona turned to Anne, “It’s such a relief to see you. Rachel came to see me yesterday and told me she saw you at the doctor’s. I’ve been frantic that one of those horses hurt you or you were seriously ill. A two-hour trip just to see the doctor…. Rachel asked Dr. Craig why you were there, and he not only wouldn’t tell her, she said she’s never known him to be so rude. She was almost in tears telling me about it.”

“I’m fine, Mother,” Anne said. “You can see for yourself. I’m not hurt and I’m fine. After dinner we can have a talk.”

By now Martha had extra places set at the table and Leona and Rob sitting on either side of Anne. “You two go on into the parlor and talk now,” she said. “Judith and I don’t need help here. I’m glad it’s not serious, but I know myself how mothers worry.”

Anne hesitated for a moment, gave Cord a defiant look, and smiled at Martha and at her mother. “I’m going to find out about that myself soon. We’re going to have a baby.”

Leona gasped and lost color. Martha froze with a plate in her hand. As the awkward silence stretched out, Anne’s smile slowly faded.

Then Rob jumped to his feet, white-faced and hoarse with fury. “So just living out there with that devil telling everybody you’re better off now than you were when you lived a decent life with decent people wasn’t revenge enough for you? You had to stay there and let him fill you with his filthy, savage seed until it took. Have you ever considered for a minute the one you’re punishing the most is yourself? How are you going to feel with some dark mongrel sucking at your breast, sister dearest? Just how are you going to feel then?”

Cord was slowed by the effort to control a killing rage. His hand actually closed around the knife in his boot before he jerked it away, and he was only halfway to his feet, still unsure what he was going to do, when Anne hit her brother. The slap had all the strength earned with months of hard work behind it. The crack resounded through the kitchen, and Rob staggered back, knocking over his chair, the bright red imprint of her hand outlined on his livid face.

Anne leaned toward him, shaking, low-voiced with fury. “You think about this, brother, dear, that filthy savage at my breast makes me scream with joy. I’m sure I’ll like his child there just fine.”

She turned then and fled into the cold rain, not even closing the door behind her. Cord moved towards the door wooden with the effort at control, picked up their coats and rain slickers and went after her.

She was at the back of the barn, facing the wall, and for the first time when he touched her, she shrugged him off. “Go away.”

“Anne, Annie.”

He heard the break in his own voice, knew she heard it too when she turned and threw herself at him. Her fingers were digging into his back, and he held her just as hard, buried his face in her hair. She was shaking but not crying.

“Damn them. Damn you.”

“Ssh. Ssh.” The lump in his throat was so painful he couldn’t have said anything even if he knew what to say.

When Martha’s voice echoed through the barn, Cord pulled away from Anne, then cursed himself for doing it. Anne was facing the wall again as Martha came into sight.

“Your mother and brother are gone, Anne, and I told your brother he’s no longer welcome in my house. Now suppose you come back in. You’re soaked to the skin and shouldn’t be going home wet and cold and hungry.”

Anne’s voice was barely a whisper. “I can’t, Martha. I’m too ashamed. People don’t talk like that.”

Martha went to her and put an arm around her shaking shoulders. “I’ve been provoked into saying some pretty extraordinary things myself over the years. And no one has ever come close to being as offensive as your brother. It will be much easier to come in now than next week, you know.”

Anne hunched over further toward the wall, shaking her head. Cord finally managed words. “Annie, please.”

Anne stopped resisting then and let Martha wrap a slicker around her shoulders and lead her back to the house.

The extra places set for Rob and Leona had disappeared as if they never were. Martha guided Anne back to her chair and began to bustle about. The people in the room were so quiet every sound of cutlery, dishes, or a cleared throat was magnified.

Cord watched only Anne, who stared at her hands in her lap and huddled miserably in her chair.

It was Luke, usually insensitive and irreverent, who broke the spell. He got up, walked around behind her and with hands on both her shoulders leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Your brother’s a fool, Anne. He deserved everything he got. Congratulations about the baby.”

Pete was right behind him, also bestowing a peck on the cheek. “Yes, congratulations. If you’d like us to go knock his head in for you, just say.”

Her voice sounded like a little girl’s. “Thank you, Luke. Thank you, Pete. No, it’s all right.”

Cord saw a tear land with a splash on the back of one hand and wanted to carry her out of there, hold her and never let go, but she was soaked - cold, distraught, and wet - taking her home like that was asking for trouble. Anne glanced up, and what no amount of kindness from Martha, Luke, or Pete could accomplish the anguish in his eyes did.

She lifted her chin, straightened her spine, and forced a watery smile. “I’m fine, really.”

It wasn’t fine, but they got through the meal somehow.

When dinner was over, Martha placed a chair near the stove for Anne and fussed over her there. She also made it clear she wanted the men out of her kitchen. Unsure what else to do, Cord followed his brothers to the parlor, walked over to a window and stared out at the bleak, wet day. Coming to town today had been a mistake in every way; it would be a miserable trip home in the rain. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Ephraim, he supposed. Another hand offered a small black cigar. Frank, not Ephraim. They stood there, smoking silently, side by side, watching the rain jump in the puddles in the yard, drip off the eaves, splash on the glass.

Finally, Frank spoke, “How do you feel about it?”

“Not good. She’s been hurt enough.”

“I didn’t mean that really. How do you feel about a baby?”

Cord shrugged. “Doesn’t seem real. Just words. I’ve never had much to do with one.”

It wasn’t an accusation but a simple statement of a fact Frank knew. Judith’s obsessive fear had kept Cord from ever getting near any of her children when they were small, and her hysterical behavior after Beth’s birth was what had driven him out of the main ranch for good.

“You know I’d have changed that if I could.”

Cord made no answer. Nevertheless, Frank stayed there behind him, his silent presence a comfort of sorts.

Still, he was glad to hear Anne’s voice, “I’m dry now. Can we go home please.”

He helped her into her coat and slicker and they left without another word.