Randall Wedding

by Judy Christenberry

  “Oh, my. She must be really weak.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know how long she was sick before I found them.”

  “How’s Angel?”

  “As beautiful as ever. She recognizes my voice now.” He regretted adding that information.

  “Uh, yes, babies do that quickly. So her mother’s name is Isabella? That sounds Italian.”

  “That’s what Jon said.”

  “I wonder if she was coming here to visit someone? We have a few Italian families around here.”

  “Probably not, Mom. I think she would’ve told me at once. But I’ll admit she’s not thinking too clearly. She fell asleep while I was explaining our family to her.”

  Janie laughed. “No wonder. There’s so many of us.”

  “I know. But she’d heard our name before.”

  “Well, that happens with Pete and Toby and even Rich.”

  It bothered Russ how much he was pleased to be able to tell his mother that she’d never heard of anyone connected with the rodeo. “No, she hadn’t heard of them. She’s from New York, you know. At least, her license plates say New York.”

  “Oh. Then I wonder how—”

  “I don’t know, Mom. I’ll try to ask her the next time she wakes up. But I’ve got to go get the kitchen cleaned up right now. Before Angel’s next meal.”

  “Of course, son. Oh, the snow is supposed to end tomorrow. We’ll get in to see how you’re doing as soon as we can.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but there’s no hurry.”

  When he hung up the phone, he stood there, his hand on the receiver, wishing everyone would quit telling him about the end of the blizzard. As if that was a good thing.

  Chapter Three

  When he moved to the kitchen to clean it up, he first took two steaks out of the freezer. A little steak and some vegetables would be good for Isabella. He’d cook them after Angel’s six-o’clock feeding.

  He checked on Isabella several times before Angel finally sounded the alarm. He listened for Isabella to ask to feed her baby again, but he heard nothing. He gathered the baby against his chest and put the bottle in her mouth and all noise ceased. He cooed to her, entertaining her while she ate. Entertaining himself. He warned himself not to depend on Angel’s being around. After all, the snowstorm was supposed to end tomorrow.

  But he doubted Isabella would have the strength by then to move on. After all, four bites of an omelette had knocked her out. It was strange that she hadn’t even stirred when Angel woke up. Suddenly he panicked. Still holding Angel, he jumped up from the couch and hurried to the bedroom door.

  But Isabella was fine. She was curled under the covers, sound asleep and seemingly at peace. He backed away before Angel’s greedy guzzling of her bottle could bother her mother. Was Isabella going to sleep through dinner, too?

  He’d looked forward to eating with Isabella. How pathetic. He was looking forward to dinner with a woman just this side of a coma. Yeah, he was going to have to change his lifestyle. Get out more. He didn’t need to consider dating or anything like that. He had no intention of dating. But he could hang out with his family.

  It was just that he was curious about Isabella and Angel. He wanted to know they would be all right. That they had someone to turn to.

  She probably had a truckload of relatives anxious to know what had happened to her. Especially if her car and her coat indicated her level of income. A runaway wouldn’t leave in her full-length mink coat and the Cadillac. That was a silly idea.

  He had Angel changed and back down asleep before he heard anything from the bedroom. A thump. He hurried to the door and saw nothing. Including no one in the bed. He turned to the bathroom, but the door was open and the room was empty. He turned back to the bed and saw Isabella sprawled out on the floor beside it.

  “Isabella! What happened?”

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered.

  He lifted her from the floor and helped her to the bathroom. Once he got her inside, he stood her against the sink.

  “Can you manage on your own?”

  “Yes.”

  He wasn’t sure it was wise to leave her there alone, but he didn’t want to embarrass her. He’d already seen more of her than he wanted her to know.

  He hovered outside the door, waiting for her to call him.

  “Russ?”

  He barely heard her. Had the omelet made her worse?

  He opened the door and found her where he’d left her. “Did you take care of business?”

  She nodded. He scooped her up into his arms and maneuvered her through the door. When he got her back to the bed, he followed her down to the side of the bed. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

  She shook her head.

  “But you seem more out of it than before,” he said, really worried.

  “Sleepy,” she muttered.

  He pulled the cover over her shoulders. “But I was going to cook you dinner. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Sleepy,” she repeated.

  He left the room and grabbed the phone to call Jon again. Tori answered this time.

  “Hi, Russ. Is everything all right?”

  “I don’t know, Tori. She never really got awake. I found her on the floor because she fell trying to get to the bathroom. I got her in there and left her alone for a few minutes. Then she called me and wanted to go back to bed. All she’d say was she was sleepy. I was going to cook her supper, but she’s gone back to sleep. Does that sound normal?”

  His cousin repeated the facts to Jon, her husband. He took the phone. “Does she seem to be sleeping okay?”

  “Yeah, her breathing is even. Actually, she seems to be sleeping more deeply.”

  “Probably she didn’t get any good sleep until you got more food down her. I bet the next time she wakes up, she’ll be hungry. Don’t worry, Russ.”

  “Whatever you say, Jon.” He knew he didn’t sound satisfied with Jon’s words, but he couldn’t help worrying.

  “If you get worried later, give us a call. No matter what the time.”

  “Okay, thanks. Hopefully I won’t have to bother you.”

  Russ went back into the bedroom. He stared down at Isabella, watching her breathe. Then he walked out to the living room and looked at Angel. They were both sleeping fine. Maybe if he watched Monday Night Football he could forget the warmth and beauty of the two females. But he knew Angel had already claimed his heart. What worried him even more was that Isabella had that effect on him, too. He couldn’t feel anything for her! Could he?

  WHEN SHE WOKE UP Isabella had no idea where she was. She realized she must have been ill, because she was very shaky. What had woken her up?

  It had to be Angel, of course. But had she stopped crying? That didn’t sound like Angel. She usually screamed continuously until she got her bottle. They’d been in a hotel. Was that where—? She heard a man’s voice.

  She struggled from the big bed and managed to get as far as the door, leaning against the wall for support. She silently opened the door and stared into the next room.

  There was her child, wrapped in a blanket and snuggled against a man’s bare chest, taking her bottle. Isabella watched as the man moved around the room, as if slowly waltzing with Angel. He was wearing loose sweatpants, hanging low on his hips—and nothing else.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, but her voice came out faint and weak.

  “Isabella! You’re up!”

  “You know me?”

  He gave her a strange look. “We introduced ourselves last night. Don’t you remember?”

  “No. Where am I?”

  He moved closer and she almost fell over. “I think you’d better get back in bed. Angel and I will come in there and we’ll talk while she finishes her bottle.” He bent over and got a clean nightgown and diaper before coming toward her.

  She stumbled back to bed, already exhausted by the brief exchange. As she pulled the cover up, she realized she had nothing on her legs. She was only wearing a pajama top an
d panties. Her panties, someone else’s top.

  The man sat on the foot of the bed, still feeding the baby. “I picked the two of you up three days ago on the road south of Rawhide. A blizzard was starting and I was trying to make it back to Rawhide. Your car was off the road in the ditch.”

  She didn’t remember any of this. Three days ago?

  “You opened my passenger door before I could get out and shoved in Angel in her carrier. Then you started loading your suitcases and boxes. I climbed out and helped you. Then I got you in the truck and myself behind the wheel. When I looked at you, I realized you were running a high fever.

  “We got back here and I brought you both up here and started taking care of you.” He stood and went over to the curtains. He pulled them open and showed her a white nothingness. He pulled the curtain closed again. “Helps keep the cold out.”

  “You mean the snow is as high as the second story?”

  “No. But with a storm, we get a lot of wind. Until it blows itself into North Dakota, there’s more snow in the air than there is on the ground. Travel is impossible.”

  “Oh. So we’re in Rawhide?”

  “Yeah. Where were you heading?”

  “Rawhide.”

  He stared at her as if she’d said something strange. “You were?”

  “Yes. Is there something wrong with that? Don’t you get visitors in Rawhide?” She shifted under the covers, feeling uneasy suddenly.

  “Yeah, sure. Were you visiting someone?”

  “Yes, my aunt.”

  “Oh, that explains it. But Angel is too young to be traveling. And you need to watch the weather closely in Wyoming.”

  “Thanks for the warning!” she snapped angrily, but she was so weak her eyes filled with tears.

  “Hey, no need to cry. I saved you.”

  “I’m sure we would’ve been all right,” she said with a sniff.

  He stared at her. “No. You would’ve frozen to death.”

  His raw statement made everything worse. “Give me my baby!”

  “Why? She needs to be changed so she can go back to sleep.”

  “I know that! I can take care of her!”

  “Can you? You can barely stand. You certainly can’t carry her around, and you’ve been very sick. I don’t think you should push it.”

  She gave up, though she didn’t think it was her nature. But he was right. She didn’t have any strength. She turned over and buried her face in a soft pillow. “Go away!”

  She heard him stand and walk away. When she looked up she was alone again, the door closed. Wearily, she pushed her hair back from her face and tried to think about her next step. But it seemed too hard to make a decision. Gradually her lashes lowered over her eyes.

  AFTER A SLEEPY Angel was settled back down in her carrier, Russ silently opened the door of his bedroom and discovered Isabella had gone back to sleep.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. Last night she’d seemed sweet and cooperative. This morning she was difficult…except that she was too weak. He really needed to feed her again, but he was thinking they both might benefit from another couple of hours’ sleep. This was Angel’s six-o’clock feeding.

  He returned to the air mattress he used when he went camping. It was better than the floor. He was too old to sleep on the floor. Okay, he wasn’t ancient, only in his early thirties, but he felt older.

  He lay down, thinking of his king-size bed in the next room. He had a second bedroom, but he’d made it into an office. There was no bed there. One thing about taking care of Angel, though. He didn’t have to worry about falling to sleep.

  That was true this morning, too.

  AROUND EIGHT, Russ pulled on jeans and a sweater, using the spare bathroom. Then he headed for the kitchen. He first put on a pot of coffee. Then he put oatmeal on to cook. He fried bacon and added buttered toast. When it was all ready, he went to the bedroom door and opened it.

  “Isabella, I’m serving breakfast in five minutes. Want to visit the bathroom beforehand?”

  At least she’d opened her eyes. She stared at him, blinking several times.

  Then she nodded and began shoving back the cover. Until she reached her bare legs. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “That top comes almost to your knees. Come on. If we don’t hurry, the bacon will burn.” He noticed interest in her eyes when he mentioned bacon. That was a good sign. He helped her to the bathroom.

  When he had her back in bed, he went to the kitchen and loaded the tray with their breakfasts and came back. He walked around the bed and piled the pillows behind her so she was almost sitting up. Then he slid the tray closer.

  “Help yourself,” he said, picking up the bowl with the most oatmeal. She picked up her own bowl, but she stared at him.

  “I like my oatmeal with a little sugar,” he said, sprinkling it on his cereal, “and then I add raisins. Does that suit you?”

  She nodded and he added sugar and raisins for her.

  “Want some milk to cool it off?”

  She nodded again. He poured some for her. “Can you stir it up yourself?”

  She nodded. Good thing he didn’t expect a lot of conversation.

  “Eat a piece of bacon and a bite of toast while it cools,” he ordered. He figured if he gave her a choice, she’d refuse everything. She followed his lead. In fact, she ate half a piece of toast. Then he started eating the oatmeal and she followed suit.

  Fifteen minutes later, the tray was pretty much emptied. He’d eaten most of it, but she’d done a pretty good job. “Feel better?”

  She nodded again.

  “Are you ever going to speak again?”

  “Thank you for breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, who were you coming to visit? They’ll be worried about you.”

  “No. She didn’t know I was coming.”

  “Then whoever you left will be worried. Tell me who to call and I’ll let them know you’re all right.”

  She said nothing.

  “What’s going on here? Why aren’t you talking?”

  “Because there’s no one I want to tell.”

  “You came from New York?”

  “How did you know that?” she asked, stiffening.

  He smiled as he shook his head. She was a suspicious woman. “I saw your license plate.”

  “Oh.”

  He’d told Jon he didn’t think she was a runaway, but now he wondered. “Are you hiding from someone?”

  “What if I am? I’m an adult.”

  “I don’t think that’s an adult way to handle things.”

  “Well, I think it is. I’m too weak right now to fight. When I’m strong again, I’ll handle everything.”

  She was already tiring, and he wanted more information before she went back to sleep. “Who is Angel’s father?”

  “Timothy Walker, my…my husband.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s dead.”

  Russ knew the elation that filled him was wrong. And it didn’t mean he could keep Angel, but at least for now, he was the only man in her short life. “When did he die?”

  “Six months ago.”

  “Angel looks about a month old. So you went through the pregnancy by yourself?”

  She nodded, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Not quite the truth, he guessed, but she closed her eyes.

  “I’m too tired to talk anymore.”

  “Okay. We’ll try again at lunchtime.”

  She didn’t answer. He picked up the tray, but he stared down at her for a moment. The food was helping her. She was going to regain her strength quickly.

  But the mystery wasn’t solved. And he intended to solve it before he let Isabella and Angel go away.

  HE HANDLED Angel’s ten-o’clock feeding as usual, except that he talked to her and played with her for about half an hour before he let her go back to sleep.

  “Like mother, like daughter, little Angel. I can’t keep either one of you awake.” With a grin, he tucked t
he baby into her carrier. Then he took a quick look out the window. The wind seemed to be abating a little. He decided he’d better straighten up the living room before his mother arrived. And Tori and Jon. In fact, there might be a crowd before supper.

  He wished he knew who Isabella was planning on visiting. No one he knew had mentioned relatives in New York. Nor had they had any visits from relatives from there. Was she all alone in New York? He didn’t think so. The way she’d avoided his gaze when she said she’d had the baby alone made him think someone was around. And she was running from whoever that was.

  He checked on Isabella. She was still sleeping, her face almost as innocent and young as Angel’s.

  He fixed himself a sandwich and turned on the television. He had a satellite dish and got the latest in weather. His family had been right. The snow was supposed to taper off this afternoon. Come to think of it, he didn’t hear any wind now. He stepped to the window and opened the drapes.

  It was a winter wonderland. There was the occasional little gust that stirred up snow crystals, but most of the snow had settled on the ground. He crossed to his front door, which looked down on Main Street, and saw several individuals outside, clearing off the sidewalks. He waved and went back inside.

  Then he heard steps on the outside stairs. He opened the door just as Jon and Tori reached it.

  “May we come in?” Tori asked, not waiting for an answer. She ducked under his arm and darted into the warmth.

  “Hi, Jon.” Russ said. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here. I think we’re doing all right.”

  “No, no trouble. Except I tried to leave Tori at home with the baby. But Rosa will take care of him.” Rosa was their housekeeper.

  “Oh, Jon, come look. She’s beautiful. Look at those curls!” Tori exclaimed.

  Jon joined his wife at Angel’s carrier. “Is she all right? Do I need to check her?”

  “I don’t think so. I think she’s about a month old and she’s eating every four hours. She has incredibly healthy lungs,” Russ said.

  “I know. So does Jonny. If anything, they get louder. Jonny is almost nine months old,” Tori informed him. “I thought you might not know since you’ve avoided all the babies.”