Morning Comes Softly

by Debbie Macomber

  “Come on,” Mary said, jogging toward the truck. “We’ve got to find him.”

  Travis experienced the same sense of urgency. The thought of Scotty wandering alone in the dark down a country road filled him with alarm.

  Mary rolled down the side window of the pickup. “Jim, we’ll be back as soon as we find Scotty. Watch Beth Ann, all right?”

  Travis watched in his side mirror as the boy nodded. Jim, generally sullen and hostile, seemed eager.

  “He might have cut across the field and got onto the road down by Patterson’s,” the boy shouted. “We used to do that sometimes.”

  “Damn fool kid,” Travis muttered as he sped out of the yard. A plume of dust exploded behind him. He was going to wallop Scotty when they found him, teach him a lesson or two. But first he was going to hug him and find out what had troubled him so deeply that he’d decided to leave.

  They’d gone about a mile when Travis saw him. Mary caught sight of him at almost the same moment.

  “There,” she cried, pointing to the small figure walking along the road’s narrow shoulder. He was wearing a jean jacket, which was inadequate against the cold and the wind. His young shoulders were hunched against the bluster. The sun had set, and the only available light came from the truck’s headlights.

  Scotty turned, and when he saw it was them, he took off running. Travis let him wear himself out, then pulled onto the side of the road a few feet in front of him.

  Mary was out of the cab even before he cut the ignition.

  “Scotty,” she pleaded, “where were you going?”

  The eight-year-old sniffled. “Away.”

  “But why?”

  Scotty rubbed the back of his hand under his nose. “Because.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question.” Travis knew he sounded gruff, and Mary sent him a scathing look that silenced him. She was right, he’d only make matters worse. It was best to let her do the talking. He was glad she’d come with him. He might be more familiar with the roads and the territory, but she was more familiar with the heart.

  “I don’t want to live with you and Uncle Travis anymore.”

  “But, Scotty, I’d miss you so much,” Mary said softly. “You’re my best helper. I need you.”

  Travis heard the tears in her voice and noticed the traces of moisture that ran unrestrained down her ashen cheeks.

  “I need you, too,” Travis ventured. “Just as much as Mary.”

  “You were yelling again,” Scotty accused. “My mom and dad never yelled like that. They loved each other. I don’t like it when you fight.”

  “I don’t like it, either,” Mary told him. “It makes me feel sick inside.”

  “Me too.”

  Travis exhaled sharply. “It’s my fault, Scotty. I’m ill tempered and unreasonable. I don’t know much about kids and even less about being a husband. So if I’ve flubbed up, all I can ask is that you give me a little slack.”

  Scotty stood stock still and studied them both. “I’ve seen movies….”

  “Yes,” Mary encouraged.

  “When two people argue they sometimes kiss and make up. Will you and Uncle Travis do that?”

  Eight

  “Here?” Travis asked, looking at Scotty. “You want me to kiss Mary here?”

  Mary bristled. The man made it sound as if he were being asked to do something repugnant.

  Scotty nodded. “Like Mom and Dad used to.”

  “Mary?” Travis eyed her speculatively. “Would you mind?”

  “Dad never asked Mom, he just kissed her,” Scotty instructed, sitting between them, looking from one to the other. “Sometimes Mom fussed a little, but then she got real quiet and put her arms around Dad’s neck.”

  “You’re right,” Travis said, grinning, and reached for Mary. But with Scotty trapped in the middle it was difficult getting close.

  “I’m moving,” Scotty said as he crawled over Mary’s lap.

  The moment the boy was out of the way, Travis had his arms around Mary. He bent his head and kissed her. It was a sweet, gentle kiss, more of a meeting of the lips than anything passionate.

  Mary blinked when it ended.

  Travis’s gaze swung to Scotty, and he arched his brows.

  “Not good enough,” Scotty said, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “I want to see a real kiss so that I know you aren’t going to fight anymore.”

  “Kissing isn’t going to insure—” Mary wasn’t allowed to finish. Travis caught her in his arms and pulled her forward, his hot, moist mouth covering hers.

  The action surprised Mary, and she gasped. He took immediate advantage of her opened mouth, and his tongue probed inside. Mary’s eyes flew open at the unexpectedness of the assault. Holding herself perfectly still, she closed her eyes. As the kiss intensified, a slow, strange heat began to warm the pit of her stomach, and she sighed and slowly raised her arms to Travis’s neck.

  Travis’s tongue continued to stroke hers, lightly at first, then playfully, enticing a timid response from her. He appeared to gain pleasure from her attempts and encouraged and rewarded her with more of the same.

  Pressed against him the way she was, her nipples began to tingle and ache in a way that embarrassed her.

  “That’s the way.” Scotty beamed from beside her. “That was real good.”

  “Yes, it was,” Travis said, looking down at Mary. The smile she offered him was timid, but she tried to tell him she’d enjoyed it, too.

  When they returned to the house, Mary wanted to talk to Travis, but it was difficult with Jim and Scotty around. She decided to wait until they could be alone, and that wasn’t until much later.

  Sharing her feelings with Travis proved difficult because Mary wasn’t sure what she should say. Her thoughts were heavy as she prepared for bed that night.

  She pulled back the sheets and climbed inside the bed, which creaked as it accepted her weight. Travis, fresh from the shower, followed; reaching for the switch, he turned off the light. The room was bathed in dark stillness. They both lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling, each waiting expectantly, it seemed, for the other to speak.

  “Travis, I—”

  “Mary, listen—”

  They spoke simultaneously, and then the words got tangled as each insisted the other go first.

  “All right,” Mary conceded, although she’d rather he be the first one to speak his mind. “There are several things you should know. First off, I’m afraid my lack of experience in the mothering department is causing problems. Jim and Scotty got involved in a scuffle this morning, and I was utterly useless. Beth Ann broke them up.” It hurt to admit her failure. “I don’t appear to be doing all that much better in the wife department, either.”

  He was silent for a moment. “It isn’t you, Mary, it’s me. I behaved like a jealous fool this evening. Larry was saying all the things I should have, telling you what a good cook you are and how nice the house looked. I felt like a heel and took everything out on you.”

  “I feel like such a failure.”

  “You?” he said with a sarcastic laugh. “Scotty’s the one giving me instructions on how to be a decent husband.”

  Travis stretched out his arm and brought Mary to his side. She accepted his comfort because she needed it so badly. He was warm and safe, and she sighed when he kissed the crown of her head.

  “I like kissing you,” he admitted.

  “I like it when you kiss me, too.” She smiled because he made it sound as if he were surprised by how good it was between them.

  After a while Mary yawned, exhausted from the day’s activities. When she rolled onto her side, Travis moved with her, cuddling her spoon fashion, his hand tucked around her stomach. His touch soothed her, and she was drifting off to sleep when he whispered something.

  “Hmm?” she asked groggily.

  “I was just saying that I’m going to do my damnedest to be a better husband.”

  Mary smiled to herself. “I’m going to try har
der, too.”

  “Uncle Travis is going to church with us,” Beth Ann whispered as Mary hurriedly stirred a bowl of pancake batter the following morning. “He’s got his suit on and everything.”

  “Morning,” Travis grumbled as he stepped into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  Mary felt Scotty’s gaze resting on the two of them. “Dad always kissed Mom in the morning.”

  “Is that a fact?” Travis asked with a devilish smile.

  “Yup, every morning. First thing. I used to hide my eyes ’cause it got mushy sometimes.”

  Mary cursed herself for blushing. Apparently Scotty had appointed himself keeper of the marriage. The boy seemed determined that she and Travis behave like other married couples.

  Travis removed the spatula from Mary’s unresisting fingers and set it aside. Slowly her gaze followed the course of his hands. Placing his index finger under her chin, he raised her mouth to his and kissed her soundly. Mary’s knees went weak and her hand crept up his chest and closed around his suit lapels.

  “That’s real good,” Scotty praised.

  When Travis finally lifted his mouth from hers, he smiled at her. “It was good,” he whispered.

  Mary trembled and nodded.

  “I think my brother may have stumbled onto something,” he said, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and headed toward the table.

  Mary hummed softly to herself as she reached for the spatula and resumed her task. Beth Ann was right. Travis was wearing the dark suit he’d worn for the wedding, with the starched white shirt and string tie. He’d shaved, too, and wetted down his hair. He caught her look and grinned once more. Mary couldn’t keep from blushing, but she managed to smile back at him, too.

  “I thought it would be a good idea if I attended services with you and the kids,” he announced.

  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Travis,” she said, delivering a second plate of pancakes to the table. Apparently he’d meant what he’d said the night before and was doing his best to be a good husband and father.

  “You’re going to church?” Jim asked Travis, a forkful of pancake halfway to his mouth.

  “I thought I would. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “You’ve never gone with us before,” Jim continued. “Why now?”

  “Because I want to,” Travis muttered, spearing a hot pancake with his fork and delivering it to his plate. He lathered it with butter and poured warm syrup over the top.

  He was determined to do his best, and so was she. Over the course of their meal, she caught him watching her, as though he were seeing her for the first time, really seeing her, only now he was less weary. He seemed ready to deal with the reality of who and what she was, the same way she’d had to do with him.

  They were married, for better or worse, and sooner or later they’d consummate their union. Her inexperience intimidated him, she realized. He’d wait, Mary reasoned, for some sign from her, some signal that would tell him she was ready for the physical side of their relationship.

  If that was the case, what exactly was she supposed to do? She’d never attempted to lure a man until now and felt grossly inadequate. She tried to remember what it had been like in high school with her friends. Georgeanne had been crazy over Benny from the time she was a sophomore. The pair seemed to gravitate toward each other and had married a few weeks after graduation. Her other friends had known intuitively how to attract a man. A pretty dress, a smile, and a charming, submissive disposition had been all that seemed necessary. At the time, Mary had thought it rather foolish and certainly beneath her dignity. Furthermore, she was certain she’d never care for a man who could be so easily manipulated.

  Now she wished she’d paid more attention.

  Their arrival at the church caused something of a stir. The five of them walked down the center aisle in single file. Mary had never felt more of a spectacle. Word of their rushed marriage had spread through town by now, Mary suspected, and she was the subject of blatant curiosity. She found it discomfiting to be the center of attention, but stares were less disturbing with Travis and the children at her side.

  Travis chose a pew in the middle of the church, and they filed into it. Mary went in first, followed by the three children and then Travis. She caught him looking her way once and smiled. He grinned back, and she relaxed.

  Within minutes of their appearance, the old church filled with the melodious sounds of the pipe organ, and the assembly rose to its feet. Mary helped Scotty and Beth Ann with their hymnals and joined in with the congregational singing. She noted that neither Jim nor Travis sang. Both looked as if they’d swallowed something distasteful and were wondering if they should spit it out. Mary found their attitude amusing, and her smiling eyes found Travis. Soon a grin was quivering at the edges of his mouth. Mary was gratified to notice him reach for the red hymnal himself, although she was certain he wasn’t partial to singing, especially music from the nineteenth century. Nevertheless he made a pretense of doing so in order to please her.

  Pastor Kennedy looked out over his congregation, and when his gaze landed on Mary and Travis, he smiled approvingly. The service went amazingly well. The children were a bit restless, but that was to be expected.

  As soon as the last notes of the closing hymn dimmed, Travis vaulted to his feet. He leaned across the children to whisper to Mary, “I’ll meet you and the kids outside,” then edged his way through the crowd. Mary lost sight of him as he made his way out the door, sidestepping Pastor Kennedy.

  Several people stopped to introduce themselves, including Clara Morgan, who invited Mary to a reception in her honor at the Grange. Mary was detained ten or more minutes. When she walked down the church steps, she caught sight of Travis in the parking lot.

  “Who’s Travis talking to?” she asked Jim.

  Jim’s gaze followed hers. “The sheriff.”

  Mary frowned, wandering what Travis had found so important to mention to the sheriff.

  “He’s probably asking about my mom and dad’s accident,” Jim explained. “Uncle Travis promised me he was going to find who was responsible.”

  “I thought it was an accident.”

  “They were driven off the road,” Jim said bitterly. Mary’s heart ached at the pain she heard in the youth’s voice. She placed her hand on his shoulder, but Jim shrugged it off, not wanting her comfort.

  “Uncle Travis convinced the sheriff it was vehicle…”

  “Vehicular homicide,” Mary supplied.

  Jim nodded. “My dad was a good driver. He’d never have hit that tree if he hadn’t been forced into it. Travis found a second pair of tire tracks at the scene and then farther down the highway, too. Whoever was driving the other car was all over the road that night.”

  “Oh, Jim,” Mary said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why?” he demanded sulkily. “They weren’t your parents.”

  “I lost my family, too. It doesn’t matter if you’re twelve or thirty when it happens, it still hurts.”

  He nodded, and his look was apologetic when he added, “Travis has been pressuring the sheriff about the accident. He was the one who insisted they make plaster molds of the tire tracks.”

  Mary was momentarily distracted, but she heard raised angry voices coming from the parking lot. She cringed inwardly as she heard Travis swear. It seemed the entire congregation was milling on the front lawn outside the church. They too stopped and stared.

  Travis said something more that Mary couldn’t hear, then turned away and stalked to the truck. Only then did he remember Mary and the children, and he looked around anxiously, eager to leave.

  Mary quickly steered the three children toward the truck. Travis climbed inside the cab, his face a grim line of restrained fury. He didn’t say a word as he peeled out of the parking lot.

  Beth Ann, who was sandwiched between them, held on tightly to Mary, her round eyes revealing her apprehension. Mary wrapped her arm around the little girl and brought her close to he
r side.

  “Travis…” Mary attempted conversation when they left the outskirts of town, her voice soft and nonjudgmental. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” he barked. His face remained stony, giving away nothing.

  He’d tell her later, she suspected, when there weren’t three pairs of ears listening in on the conversation. Now wasn’t the time to pressure him; she’d wait until he’d worked out his frustration.

  The ride back to the ranch took an uncomfortable twenty minutes. Once they’d pulled into the yard and parked, Travis leaped from the truck and headed for the house like a storm trooper, leaving Mary to deal with the children.

  She’d barely gotten the kids inside when Travis wordlessly marched past her again on his way out the door. Mary was amazed that anyone could change clothes so quickly. He ignored both her and the children. Vexed, she instructed the kids to get ready for lunch and followed her husband outside.

  “Travis,” she called after him, racing down the porch steps.

  He stopped and his gaze flickered to her, but for only a heartbeat.

  “What happened?” she asked again.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you so angry?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  Mary made a valiant effort to swallow the pain his words inflicted. His face was hard, his jaw set and immobile. Even his dark eyes seemed colorless.

  “I see,” she whispered, feeling disheartened and dejected. She’d been wrong to confront him so soon, especially when he wasn’t ready to talk about the incident. Turning, she headed for the house. Each step felt weighted. Just when she’d dared to hope they were making progress, something unexpected happened and she was promptly reminded she had no place in his life other than with the children.

  “Mary.” His voice was filled with regret.