Whispers of Moonlight (35 page)

"Travis," Rebecca said softly, "this is my friend, Angel Flanagan. Angel, this is Travis Buchanan."

"It's nice to meet you," Travis told her, but Angel only stared at him.

"I'm going to run down to the general store, Rebecca, and see if they sell trunks or luggage. I'll be back as soon as I can." With a long look at her, he was gone.

"Your husband?" Angel whispered.

"My husband."

"Get those glasses off! We'll pull your hair back from your face and let it hang down your back. I've got that nice blue dress that hangs just a little off the shoulder. Have you got any figure left under all the material?"

"Stop it, Angel."

"No. You stop it. You are
not
going to let that man get away. Now give me those glasses, or I'll
wrestle them off of you."

"I'm leaving." Rebecca stopped Angel's tirade with two words.

"When?"

"Today or tomorrow. He's packing us up right now."

"You and the boys?"

"Yes."

Angel sat down across the table from Rebecca. "Tell me what's happened."

"I wrote to him. When you said you didn't want the boys, I got scared. I wrote to him, and he must have come as soon as he got the letter."

Angel was silent for a full minute before saying, "That doesn't sound like a man who married you for your ranch."

Rebecca sighed. "No, it doesn't, does it."

"Was he always that gorgeous?" Angel couldn't resist asking, and a small smile turned up the edges of Rebecca's mouth for the first time since Travis had arrived.

"Yes, he was."

Angel grinned at her. "You might as well take the glasses off, Becky."

"Why."
 

"Because I can tell by the way he looks at you that they're not working."

Rebecca's hand went unconsciously to the neckline of her dress, but Angel only laughed, making the prodigal wife more determined than ever to be repulsive to her mate.

The hours that followed were like something out of a dream for Rebecca. She
found herself packing and sorting alongside her husband. Angel had gone home,
cleaned up, and men come back to help. This did more for Rebecca's state of mind
than anything else, since seeing Angel reminded her that if something had ever happened, the boys would be on their own.

"We'll need all the quilts off your beds. It feels colder today than it was yesterday, and we'll need them all to stay warm."

Rebecca had only nodded. It was laughable really. She had been her own woman for so many years, and now she was acting like a mute and doing everything Travis instructed- On top of that, Angel was right. The Silver Bell hostess looked good in a gunnysack, and when she'd come back in a simple dress to assist them, she looked lovely. But Travis had eyes for Rebecca alone. Mrs. Travis Buchanan had made it clear that she didn't need a husband, but she hadn't come right out and said hands off.

At one point during the packing she faltered on the stairs, and his hands had been there, catching her around the waist to steady her. Another time he stopped to tell her something and reached without thought to brush a few loose strands of hair from her forehead. Rebecca's mind was in a complete muddle.

There was, however, light in the midst of this darkness: She had never seen the boys so well behaved. Travis would give them jobs, and they would run to obey. He would ask them questions, and they would answer without two dozen of their own. At one point they began to quarrel, and Travis quietly said, "Break it, boys." Rebecca had watched in amazement as her sons stepped apart.

At any rate, the time to leave was upon her before she was ready. All Rebecca had done for years was work, so there were few friends to say good-bye to her. There was no sign of Dan, Dahlia, and their little Joey, but that evening Preston came with Angel to give them a basket of food and a short send-off. Rebecca was glad they didn't prolong it, but Angel's final words to her were much too unsettling.

"I'll miss you; you know that," Angel said sincerely. "We'll keep an eye on your things, and we won't rent the house. If you don't come back in the spring for your stuff, we'll send it on. And who knows, maybe Preston and I will visit."

"I would like that. The ranch house has plenty of room."

Angel looked her in the eye. "Don't reject a man who clearly wants to lay the world at your feet."

"I don't know how you can know that."

Angel shook her head. "You're not able to view this objectively. Believe me, he would come running if you only bent your finger—not to mention how good he is with the boys."

"He is good with them. I've appreciated that."

Angel wanted to ask her how she could have left this man in the first place but refrained. She knew full well that it took two. When they hugged, however, she whispered, "Take down the wall, Becky. Let Travis love you."

She and Preston left on that note, but Rebecca couldn't get the words from her mind.

"No, Travis, no," Rebecca protested, but he lifted her gently. She had fallen asleep beside him on the wagon seat and was still not fully awake. "It's all right. I'm putting you here beside the boys."

Rebecca had no idea what he was talking about—she only wanted to get away—but then she felt the softness of
the quilts and the warmth of her sons' bodies and no longer cared who had her.

They were only an hour outside of Boulder. It had been a long, cold journey, and Travis could not stand to see her droop in the seat any longer. The boys had spent their birthday
huddled under the blankets. They had run into flurries along the way, but no
heavy snow. With home just up the trail, Travis knew the only thing that would
keep him from finishing the trip this evening was a whiteout. He asked God to
hold the snow, and hold it He did. Home had never looked so fine. Travis pulled
the wagon up to the kitchen door and startled Lavena when he stepped inside.

"I've been looking for you for two days," she grumbled. "I gave up because it was giving me a sideache."

"It took a whole day to pack up their stuff."

This gave her pause. "Their stuff? Who have you got with you?"

Travis stared at her. "Rebecca and I have twin boys."

It was the first time Travis had ever seen Lavena speechless.

"Rebecca wants her own room, and I want the boys across from her."

Lavena only stood there.

"Get on it, Lavena. Make sure things are ready."

His voice had been mild, but Lavena lit out of the kitchen as though her skirt was on fire. Travis went back out the door. The sky was darkening fast, but Travis could see movement under the blankets. He lifted both boys at the same time and carried
them to the kitchen swathed in blankets. Garrett was still sleeping when Travis put them side by side in Lavena's rocking chair, but Wyatt was looking at him.

"Just sit tight, buddy," Travis said close to his face. "We're home now."

Travis went immediately for Rebecca, who woke when the blanket lifted and she felt a rush of cold air.

"The boys!" She looked anxiously into Travis' face.

"Already inside," he told her, and continued carrying her to the door.

He set her on her feet and steadied her with hands to her arms.

"Mama?" Wyatt called to her softly. Rebecca went to the chair.

"I'm right here, Wyatt. Are you cold?"

"I don't think so."

"Do you want them to eat or just head to bed?" Travis came close to ask.

"I'm sleepy," Wyatt said now. His voice held a distinct wobble.

"Okay, honey, we'll get you into a nice warm bed."

Travis did not wait to be asked, but moved Rebecca gently out of the way and lifted his sons again. He moved confidently through the house, his boots making a deep, thudding sound whenever they left carpets and hit the hardwood floors. As Rebecca trailed him, she was reminded how much a stranger she was here. Things were familiar, certainly, but she had left this home. Not until this very moment did she think about how it would feel to walk through it again. She knew it would be especially hard when she passed her father's bedroom. She had not even given herself time to mourn him before she ran.

At the top of the stairs Travis had gone to the left. She followed him past her father's room, without looking in, to the end of the hall. If Travis had gone left again
they'd have been in her room, but he turned right to the room across the hall from hers. Here they found Lavena, who had pulled the covers back just enough to use a bed warmer. Travis laid the boys on the bed. Garrett roused enough to use the bedpan, but Wyatt was asleep again when his father laid him down.

Travis might not know anything about raising children, but that didn't stop his next action. When the boys were down to their underdrawers, Travis's hand gently checked their limbs. All hands, feet, fingers and toes were warm to the touch. His large, work-roughened hands w
ent to their cars and cheeks as well. Rebecca looked on, her throat growing tight as she watched his tenderness.

Travis stood back when Rebecca bent to kiss them and then followed her from the room. He began to shut the door, but Rebecca asked him to leave it open. He followed her into her own room. Lavena had disappeared down the hall, but they found she had left a lantern lit.

"I might just sleep in there." Rebecca swiftly turned before her eyes could take in much of the room. "I want to hear them if they cry in the night."

Travis nodded. "I can understand that, but you can rest easy, Rebecca. I'm a light sleeper. If you do sleep through, I'll hear them if they cry."

"I still might sleep in there, Travis, since you're all the way down at the other end of the hall."

"I'm in the master bedroom now."

Rebecca turned away from him, but not before he saw the flash of anger in her face. With a hand to her arm, Travis brought her right back. She did nothing to disguise the fact that she believed her husband to be completely out of line. Travis bent and spoke quietly into her face.

"You and your father have been gone for almost six years, Rebecca. How long was I supposed to wait to make this my home?"

It was all said without heat. His face was open, his eyes searching hers. Rebecca's anger drained away just that swiftly. "I'm sorry, Travis. You're right. There's no reason for me to criticize you."

"It's a bigger room, Rebecca. If you'd rather be in there, I'll move."

Don't reject a man who clearly wants to lay the world at your feet.

"No," Rebecca spoke as she pushed Angel's words away. "But thank you anyway, Travis."

Travis continued to look down into her eyes, his voice even softer. "Will you be all right?"

"Yes," she told him, but they both knew she'd answered automatically.

Travis stood studying her for a few moments longer before saying, "I'll leave you to your rest then. Oh," Travis turned back. "It's not very late. Did you want something to eat?"

"I think I just need sleep."

"All right. Good night, Rebecca."

"Good night."

Not until Travis moved out the door, leaving it open on his way, did Rebecca have the courage to look at the room. Her eyes swept over the familiar layout. Nothing had been moved, nothing had been changed, and suddenly Rebecca didn't want to see it. She didn't want to think about her life when she lived in this room or be reminded that she had been taken from Pine Grove, and her independence, to a place where she was not in charge. The lantern was on the desk, and Rebecca moved swiftly toward it, intent on turning it low when something caught her eye. At the edge of her crystal ink well was a folded sheet of paper. Rebecca recognized the stationery immediately and reached for one corner edge. It had obviously been crushed, but someone had made it as smooth as possible before folding it.