by Lori Wick
He realized suddenly that he had been staring at her a little too long. He forced his gaze around the room and again felt surprise. Having Angel greet him in a cotton gown with her hair around her shoulders was hard enough to take in, but her house was another story all together. It was remarkably homey. Preston thought he could have laid money on the fact that it would be elegant like the Silver Bell, but nothing could be further from the truth. There were simple lace curtains on the windows, and the little endtables had doilies on them like ones he might have found at his grandma’s house. There were pillows on the chairs and sofa, ruffled edges and all.
“Coffee, Preston?” Angel stood at his elbow and asked. He pulled his eyes from the room to focus on the woman who occupied much of his thoughts.
“Thank you.” He knew he sounded stiff, but years of covering his feelings did not dissolve in a week.
“Sugar?” Angel asked, and he looked on in amazement when she blushed.
Angel gave a nervous glance. “I guess I don’t know if you like anything in your coffee or not.”
“Just black, thank you.” This time he managed to sound a little less formal.
Watching them from across the room, Rebecca wondered at the interchange. Just as Rebecca had become more bold in the past week, Angel had become more tender. However, Rebecca never thought to see her flustered or blushing. She glanced at Dan, who warned her with his eyes to stay quiet.
“I’d better get changed for work,” Angel said suddenly, fully expecting Preston to say he was going on ahead of her. He surprised her.
“I’ll wait for you, Angel. You go ahead, Dan, and if anyone is looking for me, tell them I’ll be right along.”
“All right, Preston. Thank you for supper, Rebecca. You’ve learned a lot in a few weeks.”
Rebecca smiled at him. “I think all the credit can be given to my instructor.”
Dan smiled as well, kissed her cheek, and a few seconds later went on his way. Rebecca turned. She was alone with Preston. She took a seat across from him, thinking comfortably how easy it was for a woman when she didn’t care whether or not she attracted a man.
“I forgot to ask you, Preston,” she began. “Do you own the Silver Bell or just manage it?”
“I own it,” he told her kindly. “I didn’t start it, but I own it.”
“How did you come to own it?”
“In a poker game,” he said easily, and Rebecca felt her jaw drop.
Preston laughed. “I think I’ve surprised you.”
“You have,” she admitted. “I didn’t think that kind of thing really happened; I mean, you hear about it, but it seems too fabulous to be real.”
Preston was still smiling. “It’s not quite as glamorous as it sounds. The Bell was little more than a soup kitchen when I won it. It was called the Silver Spur, but I thought the name Silver Bell had more class. I added the bar and stage.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I know so little about business. Are some times of the year busier than others?”
“Absolutely. When it’s cold, and no one wants to search in the snow for gold or silver, things are much busier.”
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 ir
ritated. 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 that 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 the 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 either.
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.
“Two boys!” Dr. Creamer’s voice was jovial. “Twin boys, Rebecca. You’re going to have your hands full!”
Rebecca managed a smile as her second son was passed into her arms. She had been so tired, but a jolt of excitement passed through her as she held him. Suddenly she felt like she could take on the world. Angel placed her first son in the crook of her arm.
“They’re so tiny,” Rebecca said with half a sob. “I ca
n’t believe how small they are.”
Both babies had been crying, but now one, the second to be born, stopped abruptly.
“It’s all right,” Rebecca crooned to the first baby, everyone else in the room forgotten. She noticed that her quiet son was staring at her.
“Hello there,” she whispered, and laughed breathlessly. “You’re here,” she said in wonder. “You’re finally here.” Again she gave a soft, incredulous laugh, and the first baby stopped crying as well.
“Do you feel better?” Rebecca asked softly, her head turned into his face. His tiny brow was creased in evident concentration, and Rebecca laughed in delight. She startled both babies in the process, and after a few minutes they began to howl again. Angel laughed as well and Rebecca turned, only just realizing she’d been there all along.
“I did it,” she told the older woman, a smile stretching the corners of her mouth. Angel felt something clench around her heart. She hadn’t seen such a look of joy and hope on Rebecca’s face in many weeks.
“You did it,” she agreed softly, clearing her throat. She wanted to say more, but her emotions were too close to the surface. These babies were so tiny, so vulnerable. It was easy to see how the cemetery could be filled with little graves. How did ones so small and helpless make it to adulthood?
Dr. Creamer interrupted her thoughts, and Angel’s attention came back to the moment. Both babies were now crying in full voice, but Angel listened carefully as he explained to Rebecca how to care for them in the hours and days to come.
“They’re both hungry, Rebecca. Nursing won’t be comfortable at first, but the sooner you start to feed them the better. Come for me, Angel, if there’s any problem.”
With that he was gone, and Rebecca, still flat on her back, was left to Angel’s care. Angel propped her up immediately, jostling the wailing infants in the process, and then helped Rebecca start nursing. It was a long process. Angel, bent over the bed, thought she would never be able to straighten her back again before the babies settled in and began to suck, but it was infinitely satisfying to have everything go quiet and to watch their little mouths work.