Jessica actually giggled, which was so out of character for the feisty woman that Peggy hiked a brow. “You must be so proud,” she gushed. “I’ll bet Clyde is about to burst. Except for that red hair, T.J. looks just like him.”
At the sound of her ex-husband’s name, Peggy’s smile stiffened as if it had been thumbtacked in place. She knew, of course, that it was perfectly normal for Jessica to comment about Clyde. They’d worked together at Squaw Creek Lodge, where Clyde had been a temporary ski instructor. When he’d fallen ill on a payday, Peggy had picked up her husband’s check from Jessica, who was the lodge bookkeeper.
The two women had seen each other from time to time, and might have become friends if Peggy hadn’t withdrawn from everyone who served as a painful reminder of how she’d failed in her marriage, failed in her life. Now, however, Peggy faced an implied question that was innocently issued, yet nonetheless heartbreaking. She deliberately kept her voice light, her expression neutral. “Clyde hasn’t seen the twins yet.”
Jessica pursed her lips and laid a comforting hand on Peggy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I knew Clyde left town because the two of you had been having problems, but I assumed that with the babies and all—”
Peggy interrupted. “He’ll be back any day now.”
“Of course he will.” Jessica patted her shoulder, then withdrew her hand and gave a sage stare. “Any day now.”
“He’s working at Yosemite,” Peggy blurted, stung by the pity in her friend’s eyes.
“Really?”
“Campground counselor. It’s perfect for him, you know. All that beautiful landscape to inspire his art, and he’s quite good with people, so the entire situation is perfect, absolutely perfect.” Peggy knew she was babbling but couldn’t seem to reel in her traitorous tongue.
The job really was perfect for Clyde. It was perfect for Peggy, too, which is why they’d applied for it as a couple more than a year ago. She’d been deeply hurt to discover that he’d taken it on his own. It was like a final death blow to the plans they’d made together. And to their marriage.
Suddenly compelled to rearrange T.J.’s blanket, Peggy avoided Jessica’s empathetic gaze. “I left a message for Clyde on Sunday, telling him about the twins. It would take him a day or so to arrange for time off, of course, but he could be on his way back as we speak.”
Jessica nodded as if she actually believed that. “Maybe he had trouble getting up the mountain. Not all of the roads have been completely cleared.”
Peggy forced a smile and ignored the fact that Clyde had failed to return her call even though the town telephones were working perfectly. “The storm did leave quite a mess,” she acknowledged, sobered by sad memories. “It’s been a terrible week for Grand Springs. First the blackout, then the mayor’s heart attack—”
“Hmm…” Jessica’s gaze narrowed, and she issued a short snort of disgust. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
“What do you mean?”
Jessica’s eyes flashed blue fire. “Olivia was a friend of yours, wasn’t she?”
“I liked her, I admired her. She was very kind to me.” Peggy fought a surge of emotion and lost. Her voice quivered. “Yes, she was a friend of mine. Her death was a terrible shock. No one realized that she was ill.”
“She wasn’t ill,” Jessica stated.
“Excuse me?”
“Olivia Stuart wasn’t ill.”
“But her heart—”
“It wasn’t her heart that killed her—” Jessica swore under her breath and covered her mouth.
Peggy rocked back on her heels, then steadied herself on a display case. “What are you talking about? I was in the emergency room. I heard the staff saying that Olivia died of a massive coronary.”
The woman shrugged and glanced away, her blank eyes focused somewhere into infinity. “Yeah, well, doctors don’t know everything. They just think they do.”
Then Jessica Hanson turned, left her partially filled shopping cart in the produce aisle and walked out of the store.
* * *
“Am I late?”
“Nope, you’re right on time.” Peggy opened the screen door, allowing Travis to enter, which he did rather hesitantly. He looked positively smashing in beige brushed denims that cupped his slim hips like the proverbial glove and were set off by a polished belt buckle embossed with the icon of a bucking horse. His pearl-buttoned, western-style shirt, woven in muted earth tones, was tightly tailored to enhance an undeniably well-muscled chest, and a cream-colored suede Stetson completed the ensemble, which Peggy judged to be the cowboy equivalent of Sunday-go-to-meeting duds.
Travis was looking good, all right, and he smelled even better. His scent was earthy, with a hint of spice and a dash of musk. It was masculine, powerful, and so intensely alluring that she found herself inhaling deeply enough that her head spun.
She licked her lips, took a step back, then emptied her lungs all at once. It took a moment for her to realize that there was something a bit peculiar about his stance. She cocked her head, regarding him. “What are you holding behind your back?”
A dimple creased his freshly shaved cheek, sending an odd tingle down Peggy’s spine. “It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.” Travis pivoted sideways as she tried to peek behind him. “Close your eyes.”
“No way. The last time a male told me to close my eyes, I found myself kissing his pet hound.” She sidestepped, craned her neck and muttered as he twisted around to block her view. “I spent the rest of the evening scrubbing dog germs off my mouth and vowing vengeance.”
“And did you get it? Vengeance, that is.”
“Hmm? Oh, yes. I told his mother where he hid his nudie magazines.” Peggy smiled sweetly. “We were both twelve at the time.”
“Ah.” Travis whipped sideways as she made a grab for his arm. “Well, I promise there are no hound dogs behind my back.”
“I don’t care if you have six bishops and the pope back there. I’m not closing my eyes.”
He sighed. “Spoilsport.”
“I’ve been called worse.” Peggy gasped as he extended two colorful, flat boxes. “Why, they’re crib mobiles! How wonderful!”
“When you wind them up, they spin around and play music. Do you like them?”
“Oh, they’re great. Look, little airplanes for T.J. and bright butterflies for Virginia. How perfect. Thank you so much.” She pressed the boxes to her chest, then eyed his other arm, which was still hidden behind his back. For some strange reason, she was suddenly as excited as a kid on Christmas. “You’ve got something else, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” Travis said with a smug grin. “Close your eyes.”
“No.”
“In that case, I’d better put this back in the truck—”
“Wait.” She snagged his arm as he took a step backward. “Oh, all right, but I’m warning you, if anything cold and wet hits my face, you’re a dead man.” She gave him her best narrowed stare, then shut her eyes and tapped an impatient foot. “Well? I’m waiting.”
“Uh-huh. Just another second or two…okay. Now you can look.”
Peggy opened her eyes and stared in shock at a huge gift box complete with gold ribbon and a massive, fluffy bow. “Ohmigosh, what is that?”
“Open it and find out.” He slipped the mobiles out of her hands, then extended the large box. “Go on, now. It’s not going to unwrap itself.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Travis was beaming. “You can’t say anything until you know what it is.”
Peggy held the gift reverently, too moved to speak. She licked her lips and, to her horror, heard herself giggle in delight a moment before she ripped off the ribbon and opened the box. As she parted the crisp tissue, her breath rushed out all at once. It was an exquisite, lace-trimmed robe, in a rich royal blue velour. “Oh.”
Travis watched anxiously. “It might be a little big. The salescle
rk said that robes should fit kind of loose and such, but you can take it back if it doesn’t suit you.”
“It’s exquisite.” Peggy stroked the soft fabric lovingly. “I’ve never had anything so beautiful.” She looked up in awe, almost in shock. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I thought you might, you know, find some use for it.” He shrugged, fidgeted with the mobile boxes and angled a nervous glance. “It’s not too personal, is it? Sue Anne said she thought it’d be okay—”
“It’s perfect.” Peggy turned to dab moisture from her eyes, touched to the core by his thoughtfulness. “I love it, Travis. Thank you.”
His shoulders instantly relaxed. “Great. Let’s eat.”
* * *
Two hours later, Peggy was wiping down the kitchen counters, relieved that dinner had gone well and her pot roast hadn’t been dry. Travis, who’d insisted on helping with the dishes, had made a beeline for the twins’ room the moment he heard a telltale squeak indicating that at least one of the babies was awake. Peggy had been glad of the reprieve and a few isolated moments to gather her thoughts.
Travis had been different tonight. Rather, her reaction to him had been different. She’d been intensely aware of him, not just as a person but as a male-type person. That had taken her by surprise, because she couldn’t recall the last time she’d actually been so attracted to a member of the opposite sex. Even when she’d met Clyde, who’d followed her out of the college lecture hall and brazenly introduced himself as the man she was going to marry, Peggy had been basically unmoved by his physical attributes.
Clyde Saxon was good-looking, of course, in a toothy, all-American kind of way. Eventually, her body had issued a positive reaction, but that had evolved slowly, over a period of weeks. Truthfully, she hadn’t found herself thinking of Clyde in a sexual way until she’d realized that she was falling in love with him.
Certainly she wasn’t in love with Travis Stockwell. Good heavens, she barely knew him. Yet her body reacted as if it knew him. In a sense it did, because in the sweetness of slumber, Peggy and Travis knew each other intimately. No reality she’d ever experienced could match the wild passion of those incredibly vivid dreams that left her shaken, restless, filled with strange longings.
A shout from the nursery startled her. “Peggy!”
She dropped the sponge, spun around.
“Peggy, come quick— Oof!”
A dull thud had her sprinting through the living room. She skidded down the hallway, saw Travis sprawled on the nursery floor, one leg dangling over the upturned diaper pail. “Travis, my God—”
He swiveled around and kicked the pail with his foot. “Danged thing tripped me.”
Peggy was already by the cribs, anxiously checking the babies. They seemed fine. By the time she looked back over her shoulder, Travis was on his feet, dusting his pants. “What on earth happened?”
He swung the pail up with one hand and pushed it back into place. “Ginny grinned at me.”
“She what?”
“She grinned.” Eyes glowing with excitement, his Texas twang took over. “I was tickling her belly and such, like you do with young’uns, when she just whacked them li’l arms and gave me the fattest grin I ever did see! I was running to get you when this here varmint—” he shot a scowl at the pail “—got in my way.”
Peggy puffed her cheeks, blew out a breath and gazed down at the bright-eyed infant, who appeared to be staring at the colorful mobile Travis had installed at the head of her crib. “I hate to burst your bubble, Travis, but she probably just needs to be burped.”
Travis frowned. “You saying I don’t know a grin when I see one?”
“At this age, a grin and a grimace look pretty much the same.” Peggy turned toward T.J., who was now awake and expressing extreme displeasure at the disturbance. She rubbed his tummy, murmuring softly. “Sh, sweetums, the excitement’s all over. You can go back to sleep now.”
He let out a cantankerous wail, startling his sister, who also began to fuss.
Travis was immediately on the case, leaning over the crib to awkwardly stroke a gentle fingertip over the baby’s tiny shoulder. “Hey there, darling, your mama didn’t mean no disrespect. All you got to do is grin again, just to prove you can.” Virginia hiccuped, blinked, then fell silent. “That’s my girl. Come on, now, squinch up those little cheeks and give us a big old smile.”
Peggy cuddled T.J. against her shoulder and peered into Virginia’s crib. The infant’s forehead was furrowed, her wispy brows pleated into a definite frown. “Sorry, cowboy, but that doesn’t look like a smile to me.”
Travis shot Peggy a withering look. “She’s thinking it over, that’s all.”
“Ah.” Peggy shifted T.J., rubbing his warm little back with her palm. “Well, while we’re waiting for this monumental decision, why don’t you try burping her, just to humor me.”
Blinking, Travis glanced down into the crib. “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds kind of disgusting.”
“Only if she spits curdled milk on that pretty shirt of yours. Use that towel hanging on the crib slats.”
He dutifully picked up the towel, stared at it as if he’d never seen one before. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Lay it over your shoulder,” Peggy explained patiently. “Then pick her up and pat her back, like this.” When she used T.J. to demonstrate the suggested technique, Travis went absolutely white.
“Oh, no, I’m not gonna do that. No way, uh-uh.” He tossed the towel as if it had burned him, then backed up so quickly he almost tripped over the diaper pail again. “I’d probably break her or something.”
“Babies are tougher than they look. Just use one hand to support her head—”
“Excuse me,” he blurted, then spun around and rushed down the hall. The slam of the bathroom door was followed by a rush of running water.
Peggy sighed. After returning T.J. to his crib and tending to her daughter, she found Travis in the living room, slumped on the sofa. The television was on, but he didn’t appear to be watching it.
He angled a woeful glance at her as she entered the room. She sat beside him, regarding him thoughtfully. “Is it good?”
“Uh, is what good?”
“The movie,” she added, nodding at the screen.
“Oh, yeah.” Travis swallowed hard, wishing his hands would stop shaking. The mere suggestion that he take that fragile infant into his big, clumsy paws had evoked a flashback of the delivery, when T.J. had squirted out of his hands and danged near bounced off the cab floor.
The sad fact was that Travis had absolutely no experience with babies because, well, he’d never fancied them much. They’d always seemed so needy and delicate. The little critters weren’t good for much, not until they were old enough to straddle a horse. Until then, all babies did was eat and cry and fill their diapers. Who needed that? Travis sure didn’t.
At least, he’d never needed it before, and he sure as heck never wanted it. When his nephews were little, he’d pretty much ignored them, which had been easy enough since he’d been gone most of the time, out riding the circuit. As he recalled, he’d only shown up once or twice during their first years, so to his mind, they’d grown pretty fast. Soon as they were toddling around on their own two feet, Travis had taken a liking to them. But they’d never evoked the kind of feelings he had for Ginny and T.J.
That confused Travis, and it scared him. Because the twins weren’t the only ones for whom he had unsettled emotions.
“Travis?” Beside him, Peggy cocked her head, looking up with big green eyes so clear a man could see the reflection of his own soul.
He swallowed hard and responded with as much dignity as he could muster. “Huh?”
“I asked what the movie is about.”
It took a moment, what with the strawberry scent of that sweet hair tickling his nose, and her sitting so close that he could feel the flex of her thighs right through his jeans. “Oh. The movie. It’s about—”
he slipped a quick glance at the screen “—racing.”
Her brows puckered. She looked at the television, chuckled and shook her head. “That’s a car commercial.”
“Oh, sure. I knew that.” He shifted and stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. “The movie is, ah…” He held his breath, then exhaled all at once when John Wayne suddenly galloped across the screen wearing a cavalry uniform. “It’s a western.”
She smiled as if she hadn’t noticed his triumphant crow, or the bead of sweat gathered on his upper lip. “I love westerns.” Then she issued a sigh that wrapped around his heart like tie wire, and snuggled down until her shoulder pressed sweetly against the side of his chest.
A fission of electricity jittered along Travis’s ribs, warming his entire body with erotic heat. His fingers danced nervously along the cushions, then slipped over the edge to dangle above her shoulder. He waited for the protest. There was none, so he shifted slightly, allowing his arm to encircle her in a quiet embrace.
When she unexpectedly laid her head on his shoulder, the thrill made him giddy. He sat stiffly, afraid that any sudden move would startle her. His mind, however, was a boggle. Should he pull her closer? Try to kiss her? No, it was too soon. Maybe he should just sit tight, let her make the next move.
The next move toward what? She’d just had two babies. What in hell was wrong with him, thinking such things?
Still, she had laid her head on his shoulder and was snuggled up against him like a hungry tick on a fat dog. Even as the thought occurred to Travis, Peggy’s body melted against him, her breathing deepened.
The thrill that had so electrified his senses instantly dissipated. Peggy wasn’t the least bit interested in initiating a romantic liaison. She was sound asleep.
* * *
Peggy awoke with a jolt, her eyes darting through the early morning light. She blinked, listened and heard it again, the tiny distressed wail emanating from the twins’ room. Struggling to sit up, she plucked at the strange covering that was holding her down. It was her grandmother’s crocheted afghan, which was supposed to be neatly folded on the living room lounge chair.
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