Morning Comes Softly

by Debbie Macomber

  “Oh, no.”

  “We have her arm packed in ice for now. How long will it take you to come for her?”

  “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Thank you for calling.” Numbness set in as Mary hung up. Her head was whirling so badly that for a moment she remained immobile.

  Beth Ann was in pain with a possible broken arm. Her baby. Mary grabbed her coat and purse and was all the way into the yard before she realized Travis had the truck. There were three other vehicles scattered about the place, all in a state of disrepair. An old Chevy that didn’t have an engine was rusting alongside the barn. Plus two other vehicles, one without tires, another without doors. Travis had said something about fixing one of the cars up for her, but unless she specifically told him she needed the truck for errands and the like, he generally took it himself.

  Mary scrambled toward the house, but paused at the foot of the porch steps before whirling around and racing toward the barn.

  It was high time she became acquainted with Mad Max.

  Travis was mending fences. The wolf had gotten another calf and he’d spent the better part of the morning battling his frustration. No rancher could continue to sustain these kinds of losses. Something had to be done. And soon. The beast had attacked cattle on two neighboring ranches as well, but their hands were tied behind their backs. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service still had a tracker hunting down the wolf, but apparently the animal had outwitted him as he had just about everyone else.

  In a manner of speaking, Travis was mending fences with Mary as well. They’d come a long way in a few short days. What had started out as a problem over the way he’d handled Jim had been settled most satisfactorily. He smiled to himself, lifting the last post from the truck bed.

  She was right about the way he’d handled the situation with Jim. When he thought about it, he could see her side of the matter. He’d been wrong to withhold the boy’s dinner, wrong, too, not to have discussed how to deal with the problem with Mary. It was an understandable mistake, since he wasn’t in the habit of discussing his decisions. Nor was he accustomed to having a wife, but he was learning.

  “You’re looking mighty chipper,” Jake Roth, his hired hand, said as he lifted the last fence post from the truck bed. “I can’t ever remember you whistling much before.”

  Travis stopped. He didn’t realize he’d been whistling.

  “It seems to me married life agrees with you.”

  Travis shrugged. “It has its moments.”

  Jack laughed. “So I’ve heard. Personally I wouldn’t want a woman messing up my life. Too damned demanding. They’re always wanting something.”

  Travis’s thoughts had run along those same lines when he’d first considered looking for a wife. He’d dreaded what marriage would do to him. A woman would be an intrusion, and by heaven he’d been right.

  He couldn’t very well claim that Mary hadn’t been an imposition. Hell, she’d turned him inside out, upside down and every which way. What he hadn’t understood was the balance she’d brought into his life. There was no getting around the fact she was a woman. One hell of a woman.

  She’d tackled the house the way an offensive fullback goes after the quarterback in football. Why she’d scrubbed down every room until even the windowsills shined. Only a day or so ago she’d gone into town and brought back paint chips and sample materials. As best he figured she’d have the entire house redecorated by Christmas.

  What she brought into his life was something Travis hadn’t figured. Stability. The weight of his responsibilities had shifted. His burden had lightened substantially. There were drawbacks. She had a tendency to move furniture around in the middle of the night, but he could live with her small idiosyncrasies. She also cooked, cleaned and organized. She offered the children something Travis felt at a loss to provide. A mother’s tenderness. The most incredible part of the arrangement was that he hadn’t been left without rewards himself.

  To think he’d found this extraordinary wife through a want ad. It flabbergasted him. What astonished him even more was how he’d been disappointed when he first saw her. Long legs. That was all he’d wanted. That seemed laughable to him now. He wanted Mary, his Mary, and he didn’t give a double damn what her legs looked like.

  “Someone’s coming,” Jake announced, looking toward the west. He was leaning against the shovel handle, his feet crossed. “A rider.”

  Travis glanced in the same direction and hesitated. If he didn’t know better he’d say it was Mad Max. The figure was riding hell-bent for leather too.

  It took another second or two to realize the rider was the woman who’d so recently occupied his thoughts. Travis tossed aside the shovel and started racing toward her. He wasn’t a man who tasted panic often, but he did so now. The woman was crazy to come racing across the range like this. From the looks of it, she was about to break her tomfool neck.

  Mad Max came to an abrupt halt.

  “Are you trying to kill yourself?” Travis shouted furiously.

  Mary ignored him and practically leaped off the horse. “It’s Beth Ann,” she whispered, unable to get her breath. “She’s fallen in the school yard…possible broken arm. No way…to get into town.”

  “Jake,” Travis said urgently, turning to his hand. “Take care of the horse.”

  “Right away,” Jake promised.

  Travis was halfway to the truck before he realized Mary hadn’t moved. Apparently her legs had lost the ability to move, so with his arm around her waist, he lifted her, carried her to his vehicle and helped her inside. Before another minute passed they were on their way.

  Travis noted that Mary’s breathing was deep and labored as he shot across the range land. Although he did his best to avoid the ruts, it was impossible. His petite wife was tossed about the cab of the truck like a Ping-Pong ball.

  “Hold on,” he shouted irritably.

  “I am,” she snapped back.

  Travis was relieved to hear the sass was back in her voice.

  “Mr. Moon said she was in pain.”

  “Did you call Doc Anderson?”

  “No, I didn’t think.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s been treating the kids for years. He’ll take Beth Ann right in.”

  “Just hurry,” Mary shouted.

  He tried slowing down.

  “Hurry,” she cried again.

  “But you’re—”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “If you weighed a little more it’d help,” he complained.

  The highway was in sight and Travis heaved a sigh of relief. He cast a worried glance at Mary and saw that she was holding on for all she was worth. Not that it did a damn bit of good.

  They both sighed with relief when Travis reached the highway. With any luck they’d be at the school within minutes.

  Each one of those minutes seemed to take a month of Travis’s life. Although he tried to appear calm for Mary’s sake, he was anything but. Years ago, he’d forgotten how many now, he’d broken his own arm. The memory of the pain remained with him even now and the thought of Beth Ann enduring that kind of agony sent chills down his spine.

  He pulled into the school yard and parked in the bus zone. Mary was out of the truck before he’d cut the ignition. She waited for him at the double doors and they entered the building together.

  The receptionist took them directly to the nurse’s office. Beth Ann was huddled in a chair against the corner, her face red and streaked with tears. She was holding her arm protectively against her side, clinging to a dripping ice bag.

  She looked up when Mary and Travis entered the room and shuddered with soft, vibrating sobs. “I fell.”

  “It’s all right, sweetheart,” Travis said, gently picking her up with both arms. “You’re going to be all right now.”

  “It hurts real bad.”

  “I know.”

  “Mary, open the door for me,” Travis instructed. He turned around to find his wife signing some papers. She finished and h
urriedly did as he requested, racing ahead to the front doors of the school and then to the truck. She leaped inside and Travis gently placed Beth Ann in her arms. He might have been mistaken but it seemed to him that the five-year-old sighed as she nestled into Mary’s comforting arms. Funny, that was the way he felt when Mary held him too.

  Travis drove far more sensibly to Doc Anderson’s office.

  Doc saw her immediately. Mary went with Beth Ann into the X-ray room while Travis paced the outer office. A row of patients followed his movements and after a moment, he explained. “Beth Ann broke her arm.”

  He heard the five-year-old scream and stopped abruptly. Not another second passed before he slammed through the door, nearly knocking Doc Anderson’s nurse down as he came tearing into the inner office.

  “What happened?”

  Mary met him in the hallway, her features ashen. “Doc had to move her arm for the X ray.”

  “Is she all right?”

  Mary nodded, but not before Travis noticed the tears in her eyes.

  Mary and Travis stayed with Beth Ann while Doc developed the film. Beth Ann sat on Mary’s lap, her head resting on Mary’s shoulder.

  Doc came into the room a few minutes later, carrying the film with him. “Well, young lady,” the white-haired doctor said, holding the black sheet up to the light. “It looks like we’re going to have to cast up that arm. Look here.” He used the end of his pencil to outline Beth Ann’s small bones and reveal the crack.

  Travis squinted, but he didn’t see anything.

  “Where did I break it?” Beth Ann asked softly.

  Doc brought the picture down to the five-year-old’s level. “Here. See?”

  Travis did then, but if Doc hadn’t pointed it out he would have missed the infinitesimally small line. “It’s not a bad break,” Doc said, apparently for their peace of mind. “Painful, but within six weeks, it’ll be healed, good as new.”

  “I have to wear the cast that long?”

  “I’m afraid so, but you can have all your friends sign it. What color do you want? I can have Frieda make us up a pretty pink one.”

  “I like blue better,” Beth Ann whispered, sniffling. She used her good hand to wipe her nose.

  They moved into the casting room where Frieda, the nurse Travis had nearly mowed down, was busy soaking plaster strips. Mary continued to hold Beth Ann in her lap.

  “It would be better if she sat up on the table,” Doc said in passing as he brought out a roll of thick cotton.

  “No,” Beth Ann sobbed, clinging to Mary with her good arm. “I want Mary.”

  Doc hesitated. “Fine, Pumpkin, we want to make you as comfortable as possible.”

  Travis was grateful the older man was so understanding. But then he’d been dealing with injured children for a long time. Travis watched the process with a good deal of interest. Doc’s able hands efficiently wrapped Beth Ann’s forearm in the plaster strips. He chatted amicably, but was unable to draw Beth Ann into conversation. She continued to cling to Mary, who whispered soothingly to the youngster.

  By the time they stopped off at the pharmacy for a prescription and drove back to the house, Travis felt as if he’d put in a twenty-hour day. After taking the pain medication, Beth Ann went down for a nap.

  “Is she asleep?” Travis asked when Mary reappeared.

  She nodded, walked to his side and slipped her arms around his waist. For several moments they did nothing but hold each other. Travis drank in her warmth, grateful once more for Mary’s presence in his life. He didn’t know how he would have survived this day without her. If she hadn’t been at the house to answer the call, Beth Ann would have been forced to sit in the nurse’s office until he’d come back to the house. Heaven only knew how long that would have been.

  Pressing her hands against the side of his face, Mary directed his mouth down to hers. His body flared awake at her touch.

  When they broke apart, Travis was breathless and weak. “What was that for?”

  “To thank you.”

  “For what?

  “I haven’t got that figured out yet. I…I just wanted to kiss you.”

  Amazed, Travis stared at her, not knowing what to say. “I’ve got to get back to Jake.”

  She nodded. “I’ve got plenty to do myself.” Without another word, she sat back down at the table, in front of the sewing machine, and reached for one of his shirts.

  Mary rolled onto her back and sighed. Although she was exhausted, both mentally and physically, she couldn’t sleep. Travis seemed to be having the same problem.

  “You awake?” he whispered into the dark.

  “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

  He chuckled softly. “It’s been one hell of a day, hasn’t it?”

  “I could do without another like this for a good long while.”

  “Me too,” he agreed. He hesitated and reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Beth Ann’s broken arm was bad enough, but I swear you frightened me ten times worse.”

  “Me?”

  “Riding Mad Max like a wild man across the open range like that. You might have been killed.”

  “I was perfectly safe.”

  “Who taught you to ride like that? You certainly aren’t a novice to the saddle.”

  “I’ve been riding from the time I was a girl. A good many southern women do, you know.” It was difficult keeping the smile out of her voice.

  Travis was silent for a moment. “You might have said something.”

  “You might have asked.”

  “Is there anything else I should know about you that I don’t? Do you fly planes and jet ski too?”

  She laughed at his bemusement. “No.”

  “How’d you know where to find me?”

  “That was easy. I overheard you talking to Jake this morning. I wasn’t exactly sure where you were, but I know which way east is. All I had to do was keep the fence line in view. I knew that sooner or later I’d find you.”

  Travis muttered something under his breath. It sounded almost like a compliment, as if he were impressed with her deductive powers.

  “I made a call after dinner.”

  Mary had noticed him on the phone earlier, but hadn’t thought much about it. “To whom?”

  “Slim Jenkins. He sells used cars. I can’t afford a new one just now, but I can’t have you trapped at the house either. Besides, we need a vehicle everyone can ride in safely.”

  Rolling onto her stomach, Mary looked down into her husband’s handsome face. She hadn’t thought of him as handsome when they first met, but she did now. She loved every sun-kissed crease and line, especially the ones that fanned out from his eyes.

  “I’ve made arrangements for us to go in and talk to Slim tomorrow afternoon. Is that all right with you?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  He reached up and wove his fingers into her hair and brought her mouth down to his. Their kiss was leisurely and deep. His lips were soft beneath hers. When they finished, Travis released a long, uneven sigh.

  Mary smiled to herself. “What was that all about?”

  His hands cupped her breasts. “I can’t get over how randy you make me feel.”

  “Randy?”

  He chuckled and rubbed his thumbs across her nipples which puckered responsively. “It means, my innocent wife, that you turn me on.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes,” Travis answered with more than a trace of amusement. “You do.”

  She curled her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to the pounding pulse at its base.

  Travis’s hands caught her hips and shifted her closer to him. Her gown had slipped up over her thighs. When the bare skin of her hip met his, he hesitated. “Mary, you don’t have anything on underneath this gown, do you?”

  “Nope,” she said with the same inflection she’d heard him use countless times. “I thought it’d save time.”

  His long legs tangled with hers as he brought her mouth down to his. They kiss
ed again with renewed vigor. Travis’s hand was at her breast and Mary sighed with the immediate spark of pleasure that he was capable of igniting with the slightest touch.

  The knock at their door went unnoticed at first. Certainly Travis didn’t hear it. Mary jerked her mouth from him.

  “Who is it?”

  “Beth Ann,” came the muted reply. “I couldn’t sleep. My arm hurts.”

  “Come in, sweetheart,” Mary said, righting her nightgown.

  The door opened and Beth Ann stepped into the darkness. “Sometimes when I was sick Mommy and Daddy let me sleep with them.”

  Mary looked to Travis who was frowning fiercely. Disregarding his warning, she scooted over until there was a wide space between her and her husband, then patted the bed.

  “Come on, sweetheart, you can sleep with us for tonight.”

  Beth Ann hurried forward, crawling onto the mattress at the foot of the bed.

  “But only tonight,” Travis warned.

  “Okay,” the five-year-old agreed with a sigh as she settled in between them.

  Thirteen

  “I want to go on the hammer,” Scotty said excitedly from the backseat of the station wagon as they rode into town for the Harvest Moon Festival. The three children were too excited to sit still and bounced around the backseat like popcorn kernels in hot oil.

  Amused, Mary glanced toward Travis. “We’ll see.”

  “You’d probably throw up again,” Jim muttered just loudly enough to rile his younger brother. Mary strongly suspected Jim felt obligated to tease Scotty now and again just to keep in practice.

  “I won’t either,” Scotty cried. “I like scary rides.”

  “You’re a sissy and you know it.”

  “Enough,” Travis snapped.

  “Scotty’s afraid of the hammer,” Jim jeered in a singsong voice.

  “Am not.”

  “Ask him what happened last year.”

  “It wasn’t my fault I got sick,” Scotty shouted in outrage, half flinging himself over the backseat.

  “Enough,” Travis said more forcefully this time.

  Mary sighed when the tentative peace was restored. She eased the strap loose across her front and shifted position so she could look to the children without being strangled by the seat belt. They’d purchased the car a few days earlier, and she wondered how they’d managed without it this long.