There was no malice in Sue Anne’s voice, but the reminder irked him just the same. Under the best of circumstances Travis hated driving a cab. When things went wrong, that hatred bubbled into irrational fury. “It’s not my fault this cheapskate town can’t fix potholes.”
“You don’t have to hit ’em doing sixty.”
“Time is money, right, sis?”
“Not when it’s your time and my money.” Papers crinkled, as if Sue Anne was shuffling call-out sheets. “Oh, by the way, you don’t have to spend any more nights crouched in front of Peggy’s house. They caught the rapist.”
Travis stiffened. “When?”
“Just before dawn, trying to crawl into some woman’s window over on the west side of town. Her dog wasn’t none too happy about it, either. By the time the cops got there, his pants were shredded and the rotten louse was begging to be arrested.”
“Good. They ought to skin the perverted SOB and nail his hide to the wall.” Travis shifted, licked his lips. “Uh, how did you know about last night? Me being at Peggy’s, that is.”
“Hmm? Oh, she mentioned it when she dropped by to return my casserole dish.”
“She dropped by?”
“Uh-huh, on her way back from the laundromat. Oh, and she also brought three of the fattest strawberry-rhubarb pies I ever saw. When Jimmy lays eyes on ‘em, he’s going to think he’s died and gone to heaven. And they’re home-baked, if you can believe it. Peggy says baking calms her nerves, although it beats me where she found time—”
“How?” Travis blurted.
“The usual way, I imagine. First you buy strawberries and rhubarb at the market, then you roll out a crust—”
“I mean, how did she get there, what with those little babies and all?”
A patient sigh filtered through the phone. “In her car, Travis. Believe it or not, the woman actually knows how to drive. Shocking, isn’t it? Next thing you know, they’ll be letting her kind vote.”
The vision of Peggy and the twins tooling around in the old rattletrap parked by her curb made Travis cringe. “She oughtn’t be out so soon.”
After a long moment, Sue Anne said simply, “She’s alone, Travis. She doesn’t have much choice.”
* * *
“Smile, sweetums. Don’t you want your daddy to see how pretty you are?” Peggy aimed the camera, pausing as T.J. cracked a massive yawn. A moment later, he turned unfocused eyes toward her, and she snapped the picture just as Virginia whipped a tiny fist in front of her face.
Sighing, Peggy set the camera down and straightened her daughter’s red gingham dress, which matched her brother’s tiny shirt. The babies, cuddled side by side on a blanket-draped pillow propped on the sofa, looked like perfect little dolls, adorably irresistible. Once Clyde saw how beautiful his children were, Peggy had no doubt that he’d come to his senses and become part of their lives.
Not that Peggy needed her ex-husband—she’d spent a lifetime convincing herself that she didn’t need anyone—but her babies were another matter. They needed their father. More important, they needed to grow up secure in the knowledge that their father cared about them. There was nothing more hurtful, more traumatic to a child than parental abandonment. Peggy could certainly attest to that, and was determined that her beloved babies not suffer the same feelings of guilt and shame that had haunted her own childhood.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Peggy simply wouldn’t allow it.
She moved to the right of the sofa, changing angles as she focused the inexpensive camera that she’d carried on a three-year odyssey across the U.S. “Look at Mommy, Ginny. Oh, sweetheart, don’t go to sleep. Just one more picture, okay? For Daddy.”
A throat cleared behind her.
Startled, Peggy nearly dropped the camera as she spun around and saw Travis standing just outside the front door, which had been left open to encourage a hint of breeze into the sweltering room.
Travis shifted awkwardly, then tipped his hat with one hand while holding the other out of sight behind his back. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Pressing a palm over her racing heart, Peggy straightened and laid the camera on a lamp table. “I think I’m getting used to it. You seem to have a penchant for appearing at the most unexpected times. And the most opportune,” she added with a smile. “The twins are all duded up for their first photo shoot. I was hoping someone would drop by so I could show them off.”
“First pictures, huh? Bet they look real cute.” He hoisted up on his boot toes, trying to peer over the sofa back. Since that was impossible from his vantage point just outside the front door, Peggy invited him in. The screen creaked open. Travis took a couple of hesitant steps into the room, just far enough to peek down and see the gingham-garbed infants. His eyes lit up, but all he said was “Wow.”
Peggy proudly smoothed Virginia’s dress and used her thumb to brush back an errant strand of T.J.’s soft red hair. “Pretty spiffy, hmm? The outfits were a gift from my friends at city hall. They gave me a shower right before I left on maternity leave.”
“They look—” Travis paused while his Adam’s apple gave a nervous jerk “—real fine.”
The poignant glow in Travis’s eyes did strange things to Peggy’s heart. It was an expression of reverence, of wonder, of almost paternal pride. A lump of pure sadness wedged in her throat, because in her dreams, that expression of blatant admiration had always been in the eyes of the twins’ father. She’d imagined Clyde gazing down at his beautiful children, bonding with them, declaring his determination to be a real father to them, to be an integral part of their lives.
Peggy had no choice but to believe that dream would come true some day. The alternative was too devastating to consider.
Travis suddenly laughed as T.J. stared up and emitted a bubbly gurgle. “Hey, I think he knows who I am.”
He was clearly so thrilled by the prospect that Peggy didn’t have the heart to inform him that his tiny namesake’s eyes couldn’t yet focus beyond the distinctive blur of bright colors and moving objects. “Of course he does. After all, you’re the first person he saw on his way into the world.”
That seemed to please Travis immensely. “Yeah, I guess so.”
As he leaned forward for a better look, Peggy spotted a white bag clutched behind his back. “What’s that?”
“Hmm?” He straightened as he followed her gaze. “Oh, a peace offering.” His shoulders rotated in a sheepish shrug, then he held out the bag, exposing the logo of her favorite takeout chicken establishment. “I figured that you probably didn’t get much sleep last night, what with the, uh, excitement and all—”
“You mean having the police in my front yard at three in the morning?”
He squirmed, scratched his ear and avoided her playful grin. “Yes’m. I, well, I thought maybe you’d be too tuckered to cook.”
“I’m always too tuckered to cook real food, but I love to bake.” She snatched the bag he offered, her mouth watering as she peeked inside. “Umm, biscuits, potato salad, all the fixings. Oh, gracious, this is just too wonderful. My stomach is applauding.”
“I know. I can hear it.” His smile broadened. “There’s enough for two, in case you’re in the mood for company.”
Peggy didn’t respond. She was already in the kitchen pulling plates out of the cupboard.
* * *
An hour later, Peggy pushed away crumpled bags and empty boxes, leaned back in her chair and massaged her stomach. “I’m stuffed to the gills.”
Travis glanced up from the drumstick he was devouring, swallowed and washed the final bite down with a half glass of milk. “You sure you’ve had enough? There’s a wing left.”
She eyed the tiny morsel, poised between them like a crispy raffle prize. “If I take one more bite, I’ll pop.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” Travis snagged the final piece, disposed of it quickly, then wiped his greasy fingers with a paper towel. He regarded her, transfixed by her sated smile
and surprised by the sharp arousal it evoked. Lowering his gaze, he laid the crumpled towel beside his plate. “I was fixing to bring some of your pie back for dessert, only Jimmy and Ted got there first. Danny was pretty riled, on account of getting home too late for a taste.”
He peeked up in time to see her amber brow quirk adorably. “Now, you’re not going to tell me that two people ate three pies in one sitting.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you.” Travis leaned back, smiled. “But I’ve got the empty pie plates in my truck. Sis washed them up and asked me to bring them by. I was supposed to tell you they were real good, too. ‘Course, I wouldn’t rightly know, because those greedy hounds didn’t leave so much as a crumb.”
“Oh, they were good, all right. I bake a mean pie, if I do say so myself. My mama taught me.” She cocked her head, giving Travis a sparkly little smile that made his gut tighten some. “But I wouldn’t want you to take my word for it. If you were to come by around dinnertime tomorrow, I just might have another one cooling on the stove.”
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
“Good.” She sighed, pushed away from the table and cocked an ear toward the nursery, where the twins were snuggled in their crib for a nap. “Still quiet,” she murmured, turning a quick glance toward the clock. “If I’m lucky, I’ll get the kitchen cleaned up before they remember it’s dinnertime.”
Travis snagged a plate out of her hand. “You rest up. I can wash dishes.”
She widened her eyes, seeming genuinely surprised that he’d offer to rinse a couple of plates. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’d be my pleasure.”
“Well…” She blinked a couple of times, then her shoulders relaxed. “All right, then. Thank you.”
It only took a few minutes to toss away the take-out wrappers and tidy the kitchen.
After Travis finished placing the washed plates in the drainer, he followed Peggy into the living room and stood there, shifting from foot to foot, knowing he should leave but oddly reluctant to do so.
After a moment, Peggy flashed a nervous smile and twisted her fingers together. “Thanks again for dinner. It was wonderful.”
Travis shrugged as he settled his gaze on a stack of books and shoe boxes piled on the floor in the corner of the living room. “You must really like to read,” he blurted stupidly, then covered the idiotic comment by striding over to lift the top book in the pile and flip through it, feigning interest. “Rocky Mountain Majesty,” he read, then glanced down at the next book in the stack. “Highways of the Heartland?”
She crossed her arms and aimed a bland smile at what he now realized was a pile of travel guidebooks. “I grew up in an old section of Cleveland, where my entire world was a fifth-floor view of squalid brick buildings and ugly pavement. When my mother showed me pictures of lush Alabama forests and meadows where she’d played as a girl, I couldn’t believe there were places so beautiful. I made up my mind that someday I’d see everything for myself.”
“And did you? See everything, that is.”
She crossed her arms to shield her heart. “Clyde and I spent a lot of time traveling, if that’s what you mean. I loved seeing new places, and he loved painting what we saw, so things worked out well for both of us.”
“Clyde’s your husband?”
“Not anymore.”
Since Peggy clearly wasn’t going to elaborate, Travis replaced the book on the stack and noticed the lid was ajar on one of the shoe boxes. It was filled with photographs. “Are those pictures of your trips?” he asked, hoping she’d respond to the hint and invite him to examine them.
Peggy turned away without reply, wiping her palms on her thighs. “I’m going to check on the twins. They should be awake by now.”
Travis waited until she’d reached the hallway door. “You’re going to send him the pictures you just took of the babies, aren’t you.”
She stiffened, steadying herself on the jamb.
Travis sighed. “I don’t mean to pry, Peggy—”
“Then, please don’t.”
“But I can’t quite figure why a man would settle for pictures of his own kids when he ought to be with them.” Travis saw her jaw twitch, knew he’d hit a nerve. He took no pleasure in that, and was in fact deeply distressed by it, but couldn’t seem to stop himself from asking the one question he instinctively understood that she wouldn’t want to answer. “I know this man isn’t your husband anymore, but that doesn’t make him any less a daddy. Why isn’t he here, Peggy? Why isn’t he with his babies?”
Her knuckles whitened against the doorjamb. She stared straight ahead, into the hallway. “I don’t want to discuss this with you.”
Every nuance of her body language was warning him off, and Travis knew it. But he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t keep from pressing forward, pushing himself into something that logic insisted was none of his business while his heart insisted otherwise. “A man has a right to be with his children. I’m betting you agree with that, or you wouldn’t be so anxious to send pictures. Unless, of course, you’re just being mean-spirited, showing the poor sot what he lost by leaving you.”
She spun around, her lips white, her cheeks flushed with indignation. “How dare you imply that I’d do something so vile?”
Travis’s heart sank. “It’s true, then. The rotten louse walked out on you.”
Her eyes brightened, shifted away. “It wasn’t like that. Clyde cared about me. He just…he just wasn’t ready for children, that’s all.”
Oddly enough, Travis could relate to that. The responsibility, the loss of freedom. Hell, the thought of having children made his own palms sweat. What he couldn’t understand, and what he’d never understand, is how any man could abandon a woman like Peggy. She was every man’s fantasy rolled up in an incredibly beautiful package of sweetness and spirit, of generosity and courage, with eyes bright as a frisky colt’s and a smile that could melt stone.
And there was the vulnerability, the telltale quiver of her defiant chin that expressed more eloquently than words how deeply wounded she’d been by her husband’s betrayal, a betrayal that Travis had been only too willing to throw in her face. He sucked a quick breath, hooked his thumbs in his belt to keep from reaching out for her. “I’m sorry. Sue Anne always says my habit of poking my nose into other people’s business will get me shot someday.”
She lifted her chin even higher. “Sue Anne is right. Fortunately for you, I’m unarmed.”
“Yes’m.” He felt as if someone had tied a weight to his heart and dumped it into his stomach. “I suppose you’d like me to go now.”
“Yes.”
Defeated, Travis issued a curt nod and retrieved his hat from its resting place atop the antiquated television that sat in the corner on a shaky, foldout TV tray. He tugged on the Stetson and paused at the front door. “G’night, Peggy.”
“Good night, Travis.” She waited until he opened the screen before adding, “Is six-thirty too late?”
“Ma’am?”
“For dinner tomorrow. I can make it earlier if you’d prefer.”
“No, ma’am, six-thirty is just fine.”
She issued a brusque nod, then disappeared into the hallway, but not before Travis saw the slightest trace of a smile tug the corner of her pretty mouth. He’d just been given a reprieve, a second chance. He planned to make the most of it.
Chapter Seven
“Jessica, is that you?” Peggy pushed her shopping cart to the edge of the aisle, then waved at the slender blonde hovering in the produce aisle and glowering at a melon as if wishing it dead. “Over here.”
At the sound of her name, Jessica Hanson scowled, visibly annoyed by the interruption. When she spotted Peggy, she relaxed, even managed a surprised smile. After tossing a wary glance over her shoulder, she made her way toward the aisle where Peggy was waiting. “I barely recognized you. You look so different.”
Peggy could have said the same of Jessica, whose trademark blond ponytail had been scis
sored into a pseudo-gamin cut that was less than flattering. “So do you. You, ah, have a new hairstyle.”
The woman issued a pained sigh as she flicked her fingers through her feathery do. “Yeah. Looks like it was buzzed with a weed whacker, doesn’t it?”
Actually, it did. “Of course not. It’s quite, um, chic.”
“Always the diplomat, hmm? Oh, well. It’ll grow.” She shrugged as if to wave the entire matter away with a flick of the wrist and changed the subject with a wicked grin. “You’re certainly looking svelte, at least in comparison to the last time I saw you.”
“Which was when I resembled a penguin that had swallowed a watermelon, right?” Peggy stepped aside, proudly revealing the red-haired infants nested in plastic carriers that took up most of the shopping cart. “Meet the watermelons.”
“Oh, Peggy, they’re, uh…”
“Red and wrinkly?” Peggy shrugged at Jessica’s knowing chuckle. “I’ve been told that they’ll look less like little primates as they grow.”
“It takes a while for baby cuteness to take hold,” Jessica agreed. The pleasure in her blue eyes quickly dimmed in a cloud of guilt. She bit her lip, her gaze jittering away. “I heard that you’d had the babies. I’ve been meaning to call—”
“It’s okay,” Peggy assured her. “I’ve been pretty busy myself.”
Jessica shrugged as she shifted slightly. Her eyes snapped with the same peculiar anger she’d displayed with the hapless melons, along with something else that Peggy couldn’t quite identify. It could have been a touch of fear, but before Peggy could hone in, the expression faded as Jessica focused on the twins. “How old are they?”
“Let’s see, today is Wednesday, so that makes them exactly four days—” Peggy glanced at her watch “—one hour and thirty-three minutes old.”
“Goodness, no wonder they’re so tiny. You haven’t had a chance to fatten them up.” She reached out, hesitated. “May I touch them?”
“Of course. That’s Virginia,” Peggy said as the young woman stroked a tentative finger over the baby’s soft scalp. “And this rumple-faced little slug is T.J.” At the sound of his name, T.J. issued a fortuitous burp. Peggy rolled her eyes and feigned a sigh. “As you can see, he’s all male.”
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