Whispers of Moonlight (21 page)

BOOK: Whispers of Moonlight
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Rebecca had the impression that this was a subject he loved, and she would have elaborated, but both of them heard Angel coming down the stairs. Preston stood. Angel stopped for an instant and looked at him, then ducked her head. She was at her most glamorous. Her hair was piled high, bright purple feathers sprouted from the fat curls atop her head, and her face was made up to perfection. Her dress was gold satin, elegant in its simplicity, and a perfect foil for the gold highlights of her hair. For the first time Rebecca wondered how old Angel might be. She was one of those women who looked good right out of bed, and even without the makeup. Rebecca could only guess at her age.

"Well, Becky," the older woman turned, seeming relieved for a place to look. "I guess we're off. Thank you for supper."

"You're welcome. Have a good evening, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Rebecca," Preston added. "I'll have to have you over to the Bell sometime and show you a little of my own hospitality."

"I'll plan on that, Preston. Thank you." Even as she said this, Rebecca thought that it wouldn't be long before her shape prevented her from going anywhere at all. She tried not to let it depress her.

As always, thoughts of her shape brought on thoughts of the baby. It was becoming clear to her that she hadn't truly accepted the reality of her pregnancy. When it would sink in, she didn't know, but it was the last thing she wanted to dwell on at present.

Boulder

Travis looked at the calendar on the desk, his eyes staring at the date until they burned. His wife was 20 years old today. He had no idea where she was. He had no clue as to whether or not she was even alive, but this was May 15, Rebecca's birthday.

How many towns had he searched? How many people had he asked? He had even gone so far as to put a personal ad in the
Denver Daily News.
It read simply:

Please come home, Reba. —T.

He knew there was little hope, but the disappointment he felt when he heard nothing told him he had wanted to hear something.

A deep sigh left him feeling tired and without expectations. With both Rebecca
and Andrew gone, Travis grew restless in the study. It was a beautiful room, but
the date on the calendar seemed to haunt him. He moved out the door to pace in
the living room until he grew hungry, but the sight of the food Lavena set before him made him feel sick.

An hour later he still sat alone at the dinner table. He had made Lucky Harwell his foreman. Lucky still bunked with the men, but he ate inside. However, the younger man had a date tonight. Travis couldn't remember the girl's name, but Lucky had been more serious with her than any of the others.

Lavena chose that moment to bustle into the room. She caught him staring across the
table at nothing.

"There isn't going to be anything left of you! You pick at breakfast, and you pick at lunch! Now
eat, Travis!" With that she stormed from the room, but Travis still did not reach for his fork.

Where is my wife? I think I would know if she were dead. She can't stay away forever, but it already feels like an eternity. Where is my wife?
Despair threatened to overwhelm him, and for the first time in many months Travis tried to pray.

Pine Grove

It had taken Dan a good deal of time to believe that Rebecca was expecting, but there was no doubting the evidence now. Summer and fall had come and gone. With the calendar turning to November, it was obvious that Rebecca was well and truly in a family way. The doctor had talked like it might be twins. Angel did not believe it. Rebecca, Angel reasoned, was a small woman, and she didn't hesitate in telling Dan her opinion.

"And," she went on to him. "Rebecca told me her husband is a large man."

"Angel," Dan replied patiently, "he'd have to be a giant to have a baby that large."

Angel shook her head as if he hadn't spoken. "Becky's frame is very tiny. Look at her wrists."

"How many women have you known who had babies?"

"Not many, but—" Angel began quietly, but Dan cut her off.

"The doctor even thinks it might be twins."

"It's
not
twins," she replied adamantly.

"But what if it is. Angel?" Dan tried to reason with her.

"It won't be."

Dan fell silent. Why did Angel have such a problem with twins? He wanted to pursue the matter further, but Preston came in and found them talking in his office.

"Well, now, you called a meeting in my office but didn't bother to tell me."

Neither Dan nor Angel commented. Preston wasn't upset; he was even smiling a little.

"We're discussing Rebecca," Dan told him.

"She's due any time, isn't she?"

"Yes. The doctor told Dan it might be twins, but it's not."

Both men stared at Angel until she became irritated. Knowing his presence would only make things worse, Dan excused himself to head back to the dining room. Angel had still not said anything, but she turned for the door as well. Preston beat her to it, and by the time she tried the knob, he'd come up and put his hand against the top. Angel turned to lean against it, her eyes angry and defensive. Preston was as calm as usual.

"Strip off the veneer, Angel," he said quietly. "What's really going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. She's not having twins, and that's all there is to it."

"Do you hear yourself?" he asked her, his voice still soft. Their relationship was on more personal terms than ever, but there were still walls between them. "She could be having twins. Angel. You can deny it forever, but it won't change the facts."

She couldn't look at him. He was standing very close; she could feel the warmth from his body. It was tempting to lay her head on his chest and sob, but Angel reminded herself she didn't have those types of needs. Why that was hard to believe right now, she didn't examine too closely.

"Angel." Preston's voice came again, and this time she looked at him. "Talk to me."

She looked into his eyes, and as he'd commanded, the surface paint fell away. Her gaze shifted from him once again, and her voice grew flat and hopeless.

"My mother died having twins. She was enormous with them. My father had left us, so it was just my sister and me. My mother tried to deliver for days and finally gave up and bled to death. The babies died inside her."

Preston closed his eyes. He had not known. He never even suspected. He thought Angel must have come from a background as rocky as his own, but it had never been his place to ask. Angel looked exhausted, as if the weight of the world had fallen on her shoulders. Gazing intently at her profile, Preston spoke to her kindly, but with conviction.

"How old were you?"

"I think I was eight." She still did not look at him.

"I can see how that would scar you for life, Angel, but
it doesn't mean that what happened to your mother will happen to Rebecca. There is no reason for you to think that history is going to repeat itself- Rebecca will not be alone as your mother was. She'll probably be fine."

"Probably," Angel repeated dully.

Preston caught her jaw and forced her to look at him. He spoke when she met his eyes.

"I'd be a fool if I tried to promise you anything else. Angel, but for Rebecca's sake you've got to put your fears away."

Nothing he could have said would have carried more weight. Rebecca had not asked for this. Angel had made Rebecca her responsibility. Even if she was terrified inside, she must put on a brave front for the expectant mother. In truth, she'd known all along mat the doctor was right. Rebecca would have twins; she felt it in her bones. She wasn't happy about it, but she would have to rise to the occasion as she had done all her life.

It took her a second to realize that Preston still held her jaw. Up to this point, physical contact between them had been nonexistent. Before she could stop herself, she stiffened. Preston noticed immediately and dropped his hand. Angel wanted to cry out when the shutters dropped back over his eyes and he stepped away.

"I guess you'd better get back out front," Preston said as he moved to his desk.

"Yes, I'll do that. Are you coming?"

"Not right now." He was already seated at the desk and didn't even look up. "Tell Dan to make sure the show starts on time."

Angel left, but she felt as if she'd just let something infinitely precious slip through her hands and shatter on the floor.

17

Rebecca very kindly timed her first contraction for the next Monday the women had off. It was early in the day, and because the pain startled her, Rebecca sat down as soon as she could get to a chair. Dan had told her the day before that he had plans and would not be around, and Angel was still asleep. Rebecca sat and wondered how long she would be alone. Not that she was afraid. She had become quite independent of late, and as uncomfortable as she'd become in the last few weeks, she was rather pragmatic about the whole thing.

There was, she knew, a certain amount of detachment involved. She didn't really know the little people inside of her, and only once had she let herself dwell on the fact that they might be boys who would look just like their father. The thought brought on tears that lasted far into me night and gave her a raging headache that lingered into the next morning. From that point forward she became more disinterested than ever. Now that the birth was seemingly upon her, she had only pain on her mind.

Angel came down at her usual time, and even before she reached the first floor she knew something was amiss. Typically she could smell the coffee brewing and the start of lunch. The small house was also too quiet. Since the stairway emptied into the living room, she got no further than the last step before she found Rebecca on the sofa.

"Has it started?" Angel asked with more calm than she felt. She approached swiftly.

"I think so. I only just lay down, but the pains have been coming since early this morning."

Angel felt sweat break out on her entire body. She forced herself to sound calm.

"Will you be all right while I run upstairs and get dressed?"

Rebecca smiled. "I've been alone so far. Angel." She looked up to see the strain in the older woman's eyes.

"I'll be fine," she said kindly, and was glad the next pain didn't hit until Angel had rushed from the room. It was obvious to her that Angel had never been involved in a birth before. She almost laughed at herself:
She
had never been involved cither.

As the hours progressed, the clock slowed to a snail's pace. Angel thought she would go mad. It was close to midnight before Rebecca felt the need to push, and it was a good thing Dr. Creamer was on hand, because Angel was nearly catatonic by then. She couldn't have assisted if she had wanted to. She sat on a chair in the hall and listened to Rebecca pant, thinking she could scream for her. She refrained from such an act, but still felt unable to move or help in any way. It seemed like years passed, and even after the first tiny little wail broke the air, it took several seconds before she could respond.

"A boy," she heard the doctor tell Rebecca. Angel finally stood and moved into the room like a woman in a trance.

"There's another one there all right," the doctor was saying, "Just hold on, Rebecca. Fresh pains will start soon enough. Here, Angel." He turned to her. "Take this little one so my hands
are free. I should have brought my nurse," he mumbled softly, placing the newly wrapped infant in Angel's hands.

She looked down at the baby and then glanced up to see Rebecca watching her with half-closed eyes. Angel had never seen the younger girl's face like that. As apathetic as she had become in the last weeks, Rebecca now looked beyond caring. Angel's mother had been like that too. Angel went to her side.

"Look at him, Becky. Your little boy."

"I'm so tired, Angel," she said softly, her eyes not focusing on anything. "I don't want any more pains. Angel. I'm too tired for more pain."

"It'll be okay, Becky." She forced herself into false heartiness. "Just a little more pushing, and you'll have another baby. I'll help you with everything. Maybe it will be a girl this time, or a brother for this little guy."

Rebecca tried to focus on her friend, and Angel talked on in a soft voice until the next pain hit. It wasn't more than three minutes, and only five more after that before another wail hit the air.

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