Morning Comes Softly Page 9

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I don’t suppose there’s any of that meat loaf left over from last night, is there?”

  “Jim ate it earlier.”

  She thought she heard him swear under his breath. “It figures,” he said as he straightened and closed the door.

  “I’ve rearranged our things in your…our bedroom.” She could feel the heat invade her cheeks. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him.

  He nodded and bit down on a cold, crisp apple. The sound echoed like a sonic boom in the room. How quiet the house had become. Both boys were in their room, tired from the day’s activities. Beth Ann had been asleep from the moment her head touched the pillow.

  “I’ve got some paperwork that needs to be done,” Travis commented flatly, turning away from her.

  Mary blinked back her surprise. On their wedding night? Travis had forewarned her that he wasn’t much of a romantic, but she’d expected something more than this careless disregard for her feelings.

  “I…I’ll take a bath, then.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Good idea,” she muttered. He said it as though she’d gone six weeks without bathing. Her irritation with him lay just below the surface as it was. If they were going to make a go of this marriage, some changes needed to be made, and soon.

  Her thoughts were as turbulent as the flowing bathwater. Without thinking she added perfumed salts. Roses scented the air.

  Before Mary had left Petite, Georgeanne had given her a lovely silk nightgown. The gift had gone a long way toward mending the rift between them. Georgeanne had wept openly at the airport before Mary boarded her flight. Already Mary missed her friend’s wise counsel. Without a doubt Georgeanne would know what to do in this awkward situation with Travis. She’d be able to advise her on how to act this first night they were together.

  When she finished with her bath, Mary brushed her hair and tied the satin ribbons of the robin’s-egg-blue robe. Travis was having trouble hiding his uneasiness the same way she was, Mary decided. He wasn’t an unreasonable man. What they needed to do was sit down and talk this out.

  It was with a sense of relief that she padded out of the bathroom in her fuzzy slippers, another gift from Georgeanne, into the small den where Travis was working.

  Only he wasn’t there.

  Nor was he in the living room, or the kitchen. An inspection of the house and barn showed he wasn’t there, either. It wasn’t until she was coming in from the barn that she noticed the truck was missing.

  Travis had abandoned her on their wedding night.

  Six

  Mary was so outraged that she could hardly think. Marching into the bedroom, she slammed the door with an uncharacteristic display of temper. Apparently he was so averse to sleeping with her that he’d opted to run and hide.

  That was just dandy with her. She wasn’t all that keen on sharing his bed, either. But to leave her, with no explanation…

  The gall of the man!

  By all that was right, she should pack her bags and leave. Let him return to an empty house. It was what he deserved.

  But leaving Travis would mean abandoning Jim, Scotty, and Beth Ann, and she couldn’t bear to do that. The children had been through so much emotional trauma already, she couldn’t, wouldn’t, subject them to more.

  With few options left her, she moved across the room and turned back the bedsheets. She’d been up since five and was exhausted. If Travis opted to booze it up with his buddies on their wedding night, so be it, but she’d be damned before she’d lie in bed like a subservient wife and wait for him.

  The lovely silk gown Georgeanne had given her mortified her now. She shed it quickly, reaching instead for her sensible flannel pajamas. She stuffed the gown in the bottom drawer, feeling embarrassed and foolish for ever having donned it. It had been sheer folly to believe a mere nightgown would transform her into a desirable woman.

  If there was anything to be grateful for, it was that Travis hadn’t stayed to view her clumsy attempt.

  In her present state of mind, even as exhausted as she was, Mary knew it would be impossible for her to sleep. So she tackled the master bedroom with a gusto of unleashed energy.

  The room was all wrong. She stood in the middle, hands on her hips, and mentally rearranged the furniture. The bed was close to the hallway door, which made no sense. She much preferred to sleep beneath a window. In the hottest part of summer she’d be able to feel the cool, cleansing breeze wash over her.

  It took some doing, but she was able to push the double bed up against the wall. When she was finished, she surveyed her efforts and was pleased. She made a few other minor changes, including shuffling the contents of their dresser drawers and organizing the dresser top.

  By the time she was satisfied with her labors, it was nearly midnight. Mary refused to wait up for Travis, refused to allow him to believe his actions had disturbed her one iota.

  If anyone was to blame in this situation, it was she. She’d behaved like a romantic fool, taken leave of her senses while strolling lazily through fantasy land.

  She’d assumed that because she was married, the heavy burden of loneliness she’d carried since her brother’s and mother’s deaths would automatically diminish. But she was wrong.

  Loneliness was insidious. It knew no border or boundary, was without mercy, and couldn’t be bribed. That was what Mary had attempted to do, bargain with the deep well of pain within her by marrying a man who by his own word would never love her.

  Mary turned off the light, climbed into bed, and lay on her back, staring at the shadows that flickered about the ceiling.

  Travis had traveled this same stretch of road a hundred or more times in the last several months, sat in this same spot, and mentally reviewed what had happened the night Lee and Janice had died.

  He was missing something; he had to be, otherwise he would be able to accept the accident and get on with his life. But he couldn’t, not until everything was straight in his mind.

  There would be no serenity for him until the answers clicked into place, until he was convinced he understood the events that had led to the tragedy. With nowhere else to go, he returned again and again to the accident scene. For the hundredth time he analyzed the events of that night, searched every avenue of explanation, a clue that would fill in the blanks. But there was nothing.

  That was the way it had started this evening. Only it wasn’t the accident that plagued his mind now. It was Mary and the children. Never before had he felt the weight of his responsibilities more.

  Not only had he taken on the care and well-being of Lee’s family, but now he had a wife to deal with. He knew nothing of being a husband. Absolutely nothing. Mary was a stranger to him. He was grateful for her willingness to marry him, but he didn’t love her. She harbored no feelings for him, either. Yet they were bound together by vows he was determined to live up to no matter what price was required of him. He had little else to offer her.

  Until they stood before Pastor Kennedy, Travis had looked upon this marriage as a business transaction. It wasn’t until they were home and the children were down for the night that the enormity of what they’d done hit him. He was expected to be a husband now. Even the word felt clumsy in his mind.

  A husband. A role he felt completely unsuited to fill. He was expected to be tender and kind, considerate and understanding. He was a rancher, not some bleeping Romeo. He’d seen the look in Mary’s eyes and known what she expected.

  Travis rarely tasted fear. Death held no terror for him. The only one who would have grieved at his demise was his brother. So he’d lived a footloose lifestyle and enjoyed the reputation of being something of a hellion. Those days were gone forever. He was a husband. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to do.

  He sat in the truck for nearly an hour, staring into the cloudless night. The moon was a crescent shape in the sky, and the stars sparkled in abundant array.

  He felt crippled with dou
bts and expectations. Mary was gentle and warm and exactly what the children needed. But what about his needs? What about his wants? He’d married an old maid. Everything about Mary reeked of it. From the tidy way she wore her mousy brown hair to her sensible black shoes. He’d done his damnedest to make this day special for her, and then when it really mattered, when it was just the two of them, he’d panicked and failed her. Failed himself. Travis was a lot of things, but he’d never thought of himself as a coward until now.

  He exhaled sharply, climbed from the cab of his battered truck, walked the path down the side of the steep, root-tangled hill, and sat on a bolder that jutted out from the side of the incline. He didn’t want to think about Mary. Instead of berating his inadequacies as a husband, he should be counting his blessings.

  Mary was wonderful with the children. Beth Ann and Scotty had taken to her immediately, and now even Jim was coming around. She’d brought stability and order to all their lives. Collectively, the four of them had heaved a sigh of relief at her arrival. She cooked, she cleaned, she organized. When it came to domestic chores she was perfect. Two days following her arrival, Beth Ann had slept through the entire night for the first time since she’d moved in. Nor had she wet the bed.

  Mary was exactly what the children needed. He’d chosen well in that department, and as for all his inadequacies, Mary had known what she was getting into. He’d known, too.

  Long legs, that was all he’d asked for, and what did he get? Minnie Mouse.

  He didn’t know what she was expecting of him for their wedding night. Hell, he hadn’t known what to expect himself. One thing was sure, she was terrified he was going to demand his husbandly rights. He’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in her look. He’d made it plain it was what he expected.

  Something else was equally plain. If he’d asked, she would have gritted her teeth and given it to him.

  He had to return to the ranch and to Mary because there wasn’t any place else for him to go. Heaven help him. His disappearing act hadn’t built any bridges, of that much he was sure.

  He leaped off the boulder and climbed the steep hill to where the truck was parked. Might as well face the music now and be done with it, he decided.

  When he pulled into the yard several minutes later, Travis was relieved to find the house dark and silent. If his luck held, he could slip in undetected. Apparently Mary was asleep. Good. He was exhausted himself and in no mood to talk.

  It took a moment once he was inside the house for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. He took off his jacket, set his hat on the post, and slipped out of his boots. The less noise he made, the better.

  The bedroom door was closed, and taking care to be as quiet as possible, he turned the knob. The room was pitch black. All the better. Gingerly he stepped inside and closed the door.

  The only sound he heard was Mary’s soft, rhythmic breathing. As silently as possible he stripped off his shirt and pants and tiptoed to his side of the bed.

  It was the sound of a loud bang and immediate cursing that woke Mary. Startled, she bolted upright in bed and reached for the lamp switch on the nightstand.

  Travis was sitting on the floor in his underclothes.

  “Damn it all to hell, woman, you moved the bed! What were you trying to do, kill me?”

  Mary blinked, unsure of what had happened. Then she remembered, and a slow, angry resentment festered within her. “If you hadn’t come sneaking in like a thief, you would’ve seen that yourself.”

  “A thief!” he exploded, righting himself awkwardly. She was satisfied to note that he was rubbing his bruised posterior with both hands. He made for an interesting sight standing there in his briefs and T-shirt, wearing socks. If she hadn’t been so furious with him, she might have laughed.

  Travis continued to glare at her. “What kind of woman rearranges furniture in the middle of the night?”

  “What kind of man disappears without a word?” she fired back.

  “Ah,” he said, wagging his finger at her. “So that’s it. You were looking to punish me?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “It was a simple matter of turning on the light, which you opted not to do.”

  “I was being considerate.”

  “Considerate,” she echoed as if the word were a source of amusement. “Right. In that case, so was I.”

  He muttered something she couldn’t hear, but from the snatches she did catch, it was better she not know what he’d said. Travis marched across the room, limping slightly, and sat on the edge of the mattress. Mary lay back down and turned onto her right side so that her back was to him. Anger boiled within her, and she took out her frustration on the pillow, punching it several times as if to stuff the down farther into its case.

  “I don’t want you moving anything again without talking to me first,” he demanded.

  Mary had never thought herself sarcastic, but it seemed her husband brought out the very worst in her. She laughed.

  “I mean it.”

  She laughed again, louder this time.

  Travis peeled back the covers with enough force to lift them away from her shoulders. Mary sat up and reached for the blanket, jerking it back. Travis yanked it toward him, and for one wild moment the two were immersed in a furious tug-of-war.

  “Do you mind!” she said, pulling with all her might.

  He released his grip, the blanket went slack, and Mary nearly toppled onto the floor. She took a moment to compose herself, then calmly reached for the light switch. The bedroom was bathed in a blanket of darkness, but the tension between them crackled like static electricity.

  Crowded as close to the edge of the mattress as possible, Mary shut her eyes, determined to ignore Travis. She’d die before she’d give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her.

  “Damn fool woman,” Travis grumbled, flipping himself onto his left side.

  Mary didn’t need to roll over to know he was positioned on the very edge of the mattress, the same way she was. The space between them was like a mine field, ready to explode with the least provocation.

  “Damn fool man,” she said after a moment of silence.

  “Woman,” he stated louder.

  Mary ignored him, but her chest burned with righteous indignation. Her temper was frayed, to say nothing of her nerves, and she was still so angry she didn’t know if she could bear to be in the same room with him and not explode.

  Mary wasn’t aware any silence could be this loud. It was so uncomfortable that she knew she’d never sleep. Before another minute passed she’d turned from her side onto her back, then rolled onto her stomach before returning to her side once more.

  “Damn it, can’t you hold still?”

  “I’m trying to sleep.”

  “So am I, but you’re making it damned impossible.”

  “I was sound asleep before you came crashing into the room,” she felt obliged to remind him.

  While they were arguing they’d both apparently let loose of their holds on the bed. The mattress sagged badly in the middle, and before Mary was aware of it, they were facing each other, their upper bodies pressed together.

  All of a sudden her throat went dry. Even in the dark, she felt Travis’s gaze burn into hers. They were so close she could feel his heart beat, so close she could smell the scent of the spicy rum after-shave he’d put on that morning before the wedding ceremony. So close his breath fanned her face.

  “I know why you left,” she whispered through her pain, “but it wasn’t necessary to mock me.”

  “Mary—”

  “I know I’m no raving beauty, but—”

  “Mary, stop.” He cupped her shoulders. “That wasn’t it, I swear it wasn’t.”

  “Then why?”

  A sigh rumbled through his chest. “I…I wish I knew. Suffice it to say—”

  “You don’t need to tell me.” Her voice lost its urgency and echoed her pain. “You don’t want me…that way.”

  “That’
s not it at all. I was afraid if we went to bed together that my…needs would frighten you. I’m making a mess of this.” He rubbed a hand down his face.

  “I’m not a prude.”

  “But you’re a virgin, and—”

  “How do you know?” she flared, embarrassed and furious to be having so intimate a conversation. She resented him implying that he’d left her because he knew how inexperienced she was, how inept.

  “Mary, you have to understand, a man has ways of—”

  “Oh!” Furious once more, she backed away from him.

  “I’m not saying that’s bad, you being a virgin,” he said quickly, in an effort to make amends, “it’s just that, well, damn it all to hell, it makes it more difficult, you not knowing about men and all.”

  “You make me sound like a child. Do you honestly believe I’m so naive I don’t know what happens between a man and a woman?”

  “I said nothing of the sort. Quit twisting everything I say into an insult. I’m doing my damnedest to do right by you.”

  Some of the steam escaped her fury. She, too, was working toward that end. “I’m doing my damnedest,” she whispered, “to do right by you, too.”

  Travis relaxed, and so did Mary. “Then we’re both working toward the same end.”

  He was on his back now, and so was she. They stared at the ceiling as if there were something for them to read, something that would tell them how to make matters right. Her fingers gripped hold of the sheet, poising it beneath her chin.

  Travis rolled his head toward her. “I was thinking,” he began.

  “Yes,” Mary said eagerly, turning her head to face him.

  “Maybe we should start easy like, getting to know one another first, get comfortable with each other.”

  “All right.” Some of the terrible tension eased from her. She’d feared he was going to suggest they both go to sleep. But Mary knew, and apparently so did Travis, that neither of them was going to rest until this matter was settled.

  “Could I hold you?”