Morning Comes Softly

by Debbie Macomber

  She hesitated and then turned back. Travis stood several feet away from her, his face tight, his eyes raw with pain.

  “I was talking to the sheriff. After my brother’s accident, I insisted he make a plaster mold of both sets of tire tracks from the scene.” He stopped long enough to rub a hand over his face as though to wipe the events of the terrible night from his mind. “The lab report came back weeks ago, and there were no distinguishing marks in the tires. I thought there might be something more to go on, but I was wrong.” The last word was uttered with despair and hopelessness. “I swore I was going to bring whoever killed Lee and Janice to justice, but I keep running into dead ends.”

  Mary didn’t know the words to say that would ease his mind. Platitudes were useless. She’d heard them herself. She yearned to offer Travis something substantial, something more.

  “Can I help?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “I need to get away, vent some steam. Will you be all right with the kids?”

  “Of course.”

  They stood looking at each other, and it was as though the first bridge of understanding had been forged between them.

  “Thank you.” His words were little more than a rough sigh.

  Travis turned away from her, heading for the barn. Mary was halfway to the house when she saw a rider approaching on horseback. Whoever it was seemed to be in an all-fired hurry. He pulled in the reins and came to a grinding halt.

  “The wolf got another calf,” the man shouted.

  Travis cursed and raced for the barn. A few minutes later he led out a handsome gelding. Mary took a moment to admire the horseflesh and watched as Travis deftly climbed into the saddle. When she noticed the rifle and saddlebags, her heart pounded with alarm.

  Then, almost in afterthought, Travis pulled back on the reins and looked to Mary.

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back. A wolf’s been terrorizing the herd. I’ve already lost three calves.”

  “Be careful,” she called after him.

  He nodded. “Don’t worry, I was born careful.” Then with a smile, he galloped out of the yard.

  Storm clouds banked like armed paratroopers on the horizon, ready for the signal to attack. Mary stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, gazing out the small window in the back door. She watched the thick gray clouds rolling in, darkening the sky and threatening her serenity.

  “Can I have another piece of pie?” Scotty asked from behind her.

  “You’ve already had one slice. That’s enough for now.” She half expected an argument and was mildly surprised when she didn’t get one.

  Scotty pulled a chair over to where she was standing and stood on the seat, looking out the window with her. “What are you watching for?”

  “I’m not sure. I was just wondering when Travis was going to be home.” It would be dark within the hour, and a storm was sure to hit soon. She could feel the heaviness in the air. The sky was filled with warning, and Travis was riding around heaven knew where, seeking out a wolf, which she knew he shouldn’t be doing. She didn’t know much about ranch life, but she did know the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service didn’t take kindly to ranchers hunting down an endangered species.

  “It’s cold outside, isn’t it?”

  Mary nodded.

  “Are you worried?”

  “No.” It was a small lie. She couldn’t help but be concerned. Knowing her anxiety would alarm the children, she moved away from the window and finished the dinner preparations, determined to appear undisturbed by Travis’s long absence.

  They ate in silence. The storm arrived just after they’d finished washing the dishes. Sheets of rain pelted against the window, and the wind howled like a wounded animal.

  Mary’s nerves were stretched taut, but she did her utmost to disguise her fears from the children. Surely Travis should have been back before now. It was dark and cold.

  At Beth Ann’s insistence, Mary read another chapter from The Secret Garden. Beth Ann and Scotty listened attentively, but Jim seemed restless. He roamed from one room to another, claimed he had homework, but if that was the case, it took him only a few minutes to complete the assignment.

  Beth Ann went to bed at eight. Scotty and Jim followed at eight-thirty.

  “Aw, Mary,” Scotty whined when she insisted he go to bed.

  “Travis will tell you all about the wolf in the morning.”

  Scotty looked as if he wanted to continue the argument, but she silenced him with a single look. She was mildly surprised by how effective the tactic was on the eight-year-old.

  For a short while Mary treasured the solitude. It was times like this that she missed Petite and her own small home, her friends, and the library.

  By nine, however, she was pacing, wringing her hands, worrying about Travis. She’d expected him home long before now. Her stomach was in knots. She would have felt better if there were someone she could phone, but there was no one, so she talked to herself, whispering reassurances that soon rang flat and unconvincing.

  The winds raged outside, howling and whistling around the house. The lights flickered and she froze, not knowing what to do. Collecting her wits, she started searching the drawers so she’d be prepared in case they lost power.

  “Travis keeps candles in the kitchen.” Jim spoke softly from behind her. “In the drawer next to the telephone.”

  Mary thanked him with a smile, so grateful he was awake that it was all she could do not to hold him and weep. “You couldn’t sleep?” she asked, hoping she sounded cool and composed. Knowing she didn’t.

  He shrugged and walked past her. He set matches, candles, and a flashlight on the table. He looked out into the night and then back to Mary. “He’s okay, don’t worry.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Travis knows how to take care of himself.”

  Restless, she circled the kitchen table. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

  Jim shook his head. “No thanks.”

  “I…I appreciate what you told me this morning about your parents’ accident,” she said, rubbing her palms together.

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, then, “I better get back to bed.”

  Mary nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You going to be all right?”

  “Me?” She laughed. “Of course.”

  “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”

  “Not at all.” That was only semitrue. She wasn’t so concerned about losing power, not when her husband of three days was riding the range in the middle of a rainstorm in the dead of the coldest, darkest night she’d ever seen.

  “Good night,” she said as brightly as her fears would allow.

  “’Night, Mary.”

  Jim hadn’t been in bed more than fifteen minutes when the lights flickered once more. A second later the house went pitch black. Mary fumbled in the darkness until she found the flashlight Jim had set out for her.

  Not knowing what else to do, she made her way into the living room, sat on Travis’s recliner, and wrapped a hand-sewn quilt that had been her grandmother’s around her legs. Every five minutes or less, she turned the light on her watch.

  The slightest sound coming from the yard was enough to propel her from the chair and send her stumbling through the dark. She waved the light through the glass, but the yard was empty.

  Her heart sank and she bit into her bottom lip. Please God, she prayed, bring him safely home soon.

  Cold rain ran in rivulets down his back. Travis was soaked to the skin as he led Mad Max into the barn. The electricity was out and he flipped the switch generator, wondering why Mary hadn’t done so earlier. He fed Mad Max an extra portion of grain and made sure he had plenty of fresh, clean water before racing through the rain toward the house.

  Mary was standing in the middle of the kitchen, and when she saw him she vaulted into his arms.

  “Travis,” she sobbed, hugging him with surprising strength, “thank God you’re
home. I was so worried. I thought…I didn’t know what to think.”

  He felt her warmth all the way through his heavy jacket. He gathered her in his arms, lifting her from the floor and holding her against him as he breathed in her warm, womanly scent.

  It was unclear who started kissing whom, not that it mattered to Travis. Mary couldn’t be any more pleased to see him than he was to be with her. He’d spent one of the most miserable evenings of his life. He was wet, cold, and hungry.

  “I should be furious with you.” She sobbed, bracketing his jaw with her hands.

  Travis wove his free hand into her hair, pressing her softness against him. The kiss was brutal, and he sent his tongue deep inside her mouth, ending it only when it became necessary for them to breathe.

  “I thought—”

  “I know, I’m fine, don’t worry,” he interrupted, his mouth fiercely moving back to hers, unable to get enough of her. Until now they’d been flirting with the physical side of their relationship. A few kisses now and again had been the extent of their experimentation. Travis was finished playing games. He realized that if they didn’t stop soon, he was liable to do something stupid and frighten her.

  He tore his mouth from hers, twisted his head away from her, and inhaled deeply. “A man could get accustomed to being welcomed home this way.”

  Mary laughed softly. “I was afraid.” She seemed embarrassed, then recovered quickly. “I imagine you’re starved.”

  He was, but food wasn’t the only thing on his mind. Damn, he felt like he was sixteen all over again.

  “I’ll get your dinner,” she said, her cheeks a bright shade of pink as she turned away from him.

  “Let me take a shower first.” He was close to having hypothermia as it was, and it had dulled his wits. Surprisingly, though, it seemed to have heightened his senses. No woman had ever felt as good in his arms. No woman had looked more becoming. Travis didn’t dwell on his thoughts. He was too cold and miserable.

  Standing under the stinging spray from the shower, he let the warm jets revive him. Two of his men, plus Rob Bradley, another rancher, had tracked the wolf most of the day. The tracker sent by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service hadn’t had any luck, and Travis strongly suspected the animal had rabies, which lent their search urgency. They’d followed the wolf farther than Travis would have normally traveled under these conditions. When the storm arrived, pummeling them in the downpour, they’d decided to call it quits and return home. The night, complicated by the storm, made for dangerous riding. Several times Travis thought about Mary and the children. He wished there were some way to contact them. When he was the coldest, he remembered her standing in the kitchen that morning, all flustered and uncertain when Scotty had announced Travis should kiss her. He recalled the way her gaze had drifted toward him during the church service and how she’d smiled so sweetly at him. She’d been almost pretty.

  Mary at the house with the kids had dominated his thoughts, along with their discussion from the night before and the promises they’d made to each other. Rob had offered to let him spend the night at his spread, but Travis had declined, eager to get back to the ranch.

  When he saw the house was dark he’d assumed she’d gone to bed and was swamped with disappointment. Nothing could have surprised or pleased him more than to have her rush into his arms the instant he walked in the door. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told her a man could grow accustomed to being missed this badly. He wasn’t used to being fussed over, but having Mary care felt good.

  Once he’d finished with his shower, Travis dressed and headed for the kitchen, following his nose. The last time he’d had anything to eat had been that morning at breakfast, and he was famished.

  Mary brought him a plate piled high with mashed potatoes, thick slices of roast beef, both swimming in gravy, along with corn, warm biscuits, and a thick slice of pecan pie. He dug into the meal as though he hadn’t eaten in a week, which was very much how he felt.

  Her biscuits were even better than they’d been the night before, and he swore he’d never tasted better pie. Travis maintained Mary would put Martha out of business if she ever chose to open her own restaurant.

  “This was excellent,” he said when he finished. He pushed back the chair and pressed his hands to his stomach, sighing his full appreciation. Larry Martin wasn’t the only one who could dish out compliments, especially ones as well earned as this.

  Mary flushed with pleasure, less shy than usual. He guessed it was because she was in her element in the kitchen. Somehow she appeared softer, more feminine, than he could remember. He found himself studying her as she carried his plate to the sink and poured him a fresh cup of coffee. He stood close to her, leaning his hip against the counter while she rinsed off his dirty dishes.

  Soft blue light danced in her eyes as she chatted with him, telling him about the children and how much better their day had gone than on Saturday. It was a good thing she didn’t ask him to repeat what she’d said because Travis paid far more attention to her than to the words she spoke. One soft brown curl had escaped the tie at her nape and flirted with him, until he reached out and tucked it around her ear.

  Mary froze and Travis stepped back, surprised that he would feel comfortable enough to touch her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “You didn’t,” she assured him softly.

  He continued to watch her, wondering what had changed. He’d viewed her as a mousy frump when she’d stepped out of the jetway from Louisiana, and now he found her captivating. Her sweater had seemed bland and bulky earlier, and even that was different. He noticed the way it outlined her breasts, the way the fabric moved over her nipples as she worked.

  Her sweater wasn’t the only thing that made an impact on him. He was looking at her like a woman instead of his housekeeper. By heaven, he was looking at her like a wife. The realization struck him mute for a moment. He actually found Mary lovely. Not because she was beautiful, but because she cared for him, worried about him, was there waiting for him.

  Travis didn’t want their time together to end, but he wasn’t sure how they should continue. He didn’t want to rush her into the physical aspect of their relationship, but he discovered to his chagrin that he was looking forward to it.

  “I’d like to hold you,” he found himself saying. He didn’t need Scotty to encourage him this time.

  Shyly she moved away from the sink and toward him. He edged toward her and brought her into his arms as if this were where she belonged. His cheek was pressed to hers, and he closed his eyes. Neither spoke. He held her until her warmth, her scent, cinnamon and something else, some flower, he guessed, became too much for him to resist. Turning his head ever so slightly, afraid of destroying the mood, he nuzzled her ear with his nose, then her neck. She sighed softly as though she found as much comfort in their embrace as he did.

  He wanted to make love to her. There wasn’t any use lying to himself about it, but the time wasn’t right, although he would have liked it to be. Using restraint, he kissed her cheek, her ear, and her hair before finding her mouth. He experienced that deep, almost painful sense of waiting and wanting. She trembled, and he knew she too was deeply affected by their kisses.

  “Can I touch you?” he asked her next.

  “If you want.”

  Travis held his breath and carefully eased his hand under her sweater. She bit into her lower lip when he pressed his hand to the silky-smooth skin of her abdomen, but she didn’t impede his progress. Gradually, moving slowly, he traced his fingers upward until he reached and covered her breast.

  Her fullness filled his palm, and when he rotated his thumb over her nipple it rose hard and proud to greet him, to welcome his touch.

  “Mary.” He groaned her name and pressed his forehead to hers. “You feel so damn good in my arms.”

  “I’m plain and small and—”

  “No,” he said brusquely, and slid his hand from beneath her sweater. “I won’t have you saying
that about yourself.” He lifted his head from hers and pressed his palm against her cheek, directing her gaze toward his.

  Their eyes met and locked hungrily, and he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply. Bracing his feet slightly apart, he rotated his hands up and down her back to press her softness intimately against him.

  He wanted her physically so much that his body throbbed with the need. For a wild moment it demanded all his strength to resist her.

  “Thank you for the wonderful dinner,” he said, releasing her when he felt confident he could do so.

  “Would you want to go to bed now?” she asked, looking up at him shyly.

  Nine

  “Bed,” Travis repeated.

  “You must be exhausted,” Mary explained, unable to understand why he found it such an odd question. She finished her tasks in the kitchen and walked toward the hallway, pausing in the doorway and looking back at him.

  Travis stood with his arms dangling lifelessly at his sides, seeming to be at a complete loss for words. “I might stay up a while.”

  She blinked, surprised and disappointed. She’d enjoyed their kisses and even having him touch her breasts, but he looked now as if he were in pain. “I assumed you’d be exhausted.”

  “I am.” He paused and studied her, his dark eyes intense. “Do you want me to come to bed now?” he asked her.

  Mary hesitated, not knowing what to say.

  “You don’t seem to understand what happened just now,” he said. He stopped abruptly, his gaze skirting past hers. “You…turned me on.”

  “Touching me did that?” Pride lifted her spirits. Her less than voluptuous body had stirred a man. The high she experienced was incredible. “I didn’t know I could do that,” she whispered.

  “Do you or don’t you want me to come to bed with you?” Travis asked once more with less than sterling patience.

  Mary hesitated. “What exactly are you asking me, Travis?”

  He walked toward her and lifted his hand as though to touch her face. Apparently he changed his mind because he lowered it to his side. “If I come to bed with you now,” he explained, “we might end up making love.”