Morning Comes Softly

by Debbie Macomber

  “Poor Travis,” Rob crooned.

  “Poor Travis,” Larry echoed.

  “Travis Thompson.” The door opened and Sheriff Tucker stepped into the jail area. “Mary’s here. She’s put up the money for your bail.”

  Rob’s and Larry’s laughter slowly faded. In shocked silence they watched, eyes wide and disbelieving, as Tucker brought out the keys and opened the holding cell. No sooner was Travis on the other side than Mary raced into the room and catapulted into his embrace.

  With her arms wrapped around his neck, she spread hot, branding kisses over his face. Travis tasted the salt of her tears and knew she’d been frantic with worry. He wished he could have spared her that, but there’d been no way of contacting her. With his arms wrapped around her slender waist, he half lifted her from the floor. Tenderly she brushed the hair from his face and gazed into his eyes with undisguised love.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “I am now,” she told him, and kissed him once more. She raised her head and seemed self-conscious all of a sudden. “Your friends,” she whispered, nodding toward Larry and Rob.

  Travis turned and found his partners in crime standing on the other side of the jail cell, their hands wrapped around the bars, their faces sharp with envy as they studied him from the other side of freedom.

  “Should I have gotten the money to bail them out, too?” Mary whispered.

  “No,” Travis said, grinning broadly at his friends, “they’ve already made arrangements with their attorneys. Isn’t that right, boys?” He released Mary but couldn’t bear to be separated from her, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kept her close to his side. They were ready to leave the jail area when he turned around as if he’d forgotten something and smiled to his friends. “See you later, boys.”

  “Later,” Larry muttered.

  Travis nearly laughed out loud. The way he figured, it would be a good long while before either of them consoled him about his sorry lot in life again.

  Travis couldn’t remember a time the Triple T looked more appealing. Once inside the house, he gripped Mary by the waist and dragged her back into his arms. It didn’t matter how many times he held her or how often they kissed, it wasn’t near enough to satisfy him. “It seems to me I’ve got two nights’ worth of lovin’ to make up for.”

  “Travis!”

  “Hmm. I need you, woman. You aren’t going to give me an argument now, are you?”

  “It’s broad daylight,” Mary protested, but he noted the words didn’t carry any conviction as she raised her mouth to his.

  Sweet heaven, he loved her mouth. He’d never kissed a woman as warm and loving as Mary. Certainly none who had a more powerful effect on him. He cherished her vulnerability. Her soft, wet kisses drove him wild. Without taking his lips from hers, he removed her coat. His hands brushed against her breasts and he groaned when he felt her nipples go taut.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Mary asked breathlessly.

  He nodded. “You’re going to feed me, aren’t you?”

  “You’re cold.”

  Once again he nodded. “You’re going to warm me, aren’t you?”

  “Travis!”

  “That’s my name.”

  “Take a bath and I’ll cook you some breakfast, and when you’re finished we’ll discuss making up for lost time.”

  He groaned, but he knew she was right. “You drive a hard bargain, Mary Thompson.” There wasn’t any need to rush into bed, not when they had a good portion of the day left to themselves. Besides, he must smell as bad as sheep dung.

  “I’ll take a shower,” he told her, letting her go reluctantly. “And be right back.”

  Mary nodded. They backed away from each other like war-torn lovers. “I’ll cook you breakfast,” she whispered.

  “Make it big. I’m half-starved.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  There wasn’t any need to hurry through his shower, but Travis did, jealous of every minute spent apart from his wife. He found himself singing, belting out a raunchy cowboy song he’d learned in his youth. His mood improved when he stepped out from under the hot spray to the most delectable smells wafting in from the kitchen. Sausage, eggs, pancakes, he guessed. He was hungry enough to eat a bear in one sitting.

  As soon as he’d finished his meal he was bedding his wife, he promised himself. With that in mind, it didn’t seem necessary to dress. He wrapped a towel around his waist for decency’s sake and donned his boots and hat.

  He kinda figured Mary would get a kick out of his attire.

  “Oh, Mary,” he called out in a seductive, singsong voice, before stepping out into the kitchen.

  “Travis…”

  “I’m coming, sweetcakes.” Hands on his hips, he ambled into the kitchen wearing a ten-gallon grin.

  And froze.

  “Good morning, Travis Thompson,” Clara Morgan greeted him warmly. A lazy smile coaxed the edges of her mouth. “I thought I’d drop by to be certain you were safe and sound. I can see that you are very well indeed.”

  Where warm blood had flowed through his veins seconds before, now there was stale well water. Travis’s gaze flew to Mary, hoping she could rescue him from this embarrassment. Naturally if he was going to make a fool of himself, it would be in front of his former schoolteacher. By tomorrow morning the news of him traipsing about the house wearing little more than a loincloth, hat, and boots would be all over town. With his luck the Ladies Missionary Society would make his behavior a prayer concern at their next gathering.

  “It was very kind of you to drop by, Mrs. Morgan,” Mary said, coughing in a damn poor attempt to disguise a laugh.

  “It looks like you’re no worse off for your adventure, Travis.”

  He nodded. His jaw was clenched so tight, his teeth ached. He gripped hold of the towel from behind to prevent any further risk of embarrassment.

  “I’ll be on my way, then,” Mrs. Morgan said cheerfully. “I will see you in church on Sunday, won’t I, Travis?”

  Travis frowned. This was out-and-out blackmail if ever he heard it. He wasn’t going to give in to such a blatant attempt to manipulate his freedom. He’d attended church services with Mary that first Sunday, but there wasn’t any need to overdo religion.

  “I will, won’t I?” Clara Morgan prompted once more.

  The old biddy hadn’t changed much, Travis mused darkly. He seemed to remember her being just as dictatorial during his school days. “I’ll be there,” he agreed under his breath.

  “I thought you would. Now, I’ll be on my way and leave you two to your…reunion.”

  “Thank you for getting the children off on time for me this morning,” Mary said, steering the older woman toward the back door.

  “Any time, Mary, all you need to do is ask.”

  That too was directed at Travis, for his refusal to accept help when the kids first came to live with him. Mrs. Morgan’s spirits were certainly chipper, he noted, especially when it was at his expense. She raised her hand and toddled out the door, humming gleefully to herself.

  “You might have warned me,” Travis muttered as soon as the older woman had gone.

  “I didn’t get a chance. Besides, how was I to know you were going to come traipsing out looking like…that?”

  “Go ahead and laugh.”

  “Oh, Travis, you do make such an adorable sight.”

  He growled at her. “You’re going to have to pay for that comment, my delectable wife, and pay dearly.” He purposely dropped the towel and started after her.

  Mary squealed with delight and took off at a full run. He didn’t know if it was by accident or design that they ended up in the bedroom. But he did know it was the appropriate room for what he had in mind.

  Mary was humming softly to herself as she stripped away the old wallpaper from Beth Ann’s bedroom walls. The weather was miserable, and Travis had stuck around the house since lunch. At first he’d changed the oil in the truck, but when he’d come inside fo
r coffee, he’d stayed.

  The next thing Mary knew, he was working alongside her. She welcomed his company and this rare time alone together. In addition, he was much stronger and more accustomed to working with tools, so he could strip away twice as much paper as she could.

  Apparently, however, he didn’t find the task much easier than Mary did, even if he was stronger. Every now and again he’d let lose with an angry cuss word when the paper wasn’t cooperating.

  Beth Ann was excited with the prospect of a “new” room. The boys tried to make light of it, but they were eager for Mary to do something with their room as well. Especially Scotty, who wanted wallpaper with airplanes on it.

  “Mary.”

  Travis muttered a curse, and this time she sensed a frustrated, angry note to it. He dropped his tool and swung around.

  “Travis?”

  He was clenching his thumb, holding a white handkerchief over it. Blood had already soaked through.

  “You hurt yourself.” Her concern was immediate. “What happened?”

  “I’m all right,” he said, glancing her way suspiciously as if to say he really wasn’t. “I was hoping you’d kiss it and make it all better.”

  She ignored his teasing and steered him by the elbow toward the bathroom. He seemed more eager to have her investigate his injury in their bedroom, but she guided him to her first choice. Using her hands against his shoulders, she forced him to sit against the edge of the bathtub while she cautiously removed the makeshift bandage.

  Losing patience with her, Travis gripped her about the waist and lowered her onto his lap. “I already told you it’s nothing.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” she returned tartly. Now wasn’t the time for heroics. With that much blood lost he was surely going to need medical attention.

  “You’re going to have to kiss me senseless to make up for the pain.” He edged his free hand into her blouse and cupped her breast.

  “Travis, stop that this instant.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You know what!”

  “This?” He flicked his thumb over her nipple, and traitor that her body was, she responded immediately.

  “Travis Thompson,” she muttered with mock irritation as she examined his injured thumb, “this is little more than a paper cut.”

  “I told you it wasn’t anything to worry about.” His teeth caught her earlobe and nibbled on it greedily.

  “The blood.”

  “From another cut earlier when I was working on the truck. You know what I’m thinking?”

  It was fairly obvious what he had in mind. “Travis, what’s gotten into you lately?” The man was insatiable. Mary loved having such a demanding husband, but there were limits. “The kids…”

  “How long before they’ll be home from school?”

  “Another hour.”

  “Ah,” he whispered, sounding pleased. “That’s plenty of time.”

  “But…”

  “The next time you’re in town,” he whispered, turning her head toward his and pressing his mouth hungrily to hers, “I want you to buy bras that snap in the front. Understand?”

  “But…” His thumb flecked over her taut nipple, and her breast tightened even more. “Okay,” she agreed, knowing he’d quickly overpower any objections she offered.

  The phone pealed in the distance, sounding far away. Much too far away to worry herself with. “I…should get that,” she protested.

  “Let it ring.”

  “Travis, really…it might be important.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  “Yes, but you can wait…can’t you?”

  He released her, not the least bit pleased. Mary was grinning by the time she reached the phone. It surprised her that she was able to speak clearly into the receiver.

  “Mrs. Thompson, this is Mr. Moon from the school.”

  Mary’s heart skipped into overdrive. “Beth Ann…”

  “None of the children are hurt. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  He was apologetic, but not overly so, Mary noted. “There’s a problem with one of the children?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” the school principal continued. “We’re going to need you or your husband to come down to the school. Jim was caught stealing.”

  “Jim wouldn’t do that,” she flared angrily.

  “I’m afraid the teacher found him with her purse. He doesn’t deny it.”

  Mary placed her hand over her eyes to blot out the image of Jim’s look that morning. He’d been sullen and angry. He’d done a poor job of his chores, but Mary had covered for him when Travis had asked. It had been wrong, she knew it even as she was making excuses for him, but it’d seemed a small price to pay to keep the peace.

  “What’s wrong?” Travis asked when she slowly set the receiver back into the cradle.

  Mary didn’t turn around, needing time to collect her thoughts. “It was the school.”

  “Jim?”

  She nodded. “Mr. Moon is suspending him.”

  “What’s he done?”

  Mary kept her gaze lowered and shook her head.

  “Tell me!” he demanded. Moments earlier he’d been whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and in the space of a few moments he was shouting at her.

  “He was caught taking money from a teacher’s purse.”

  Travis’s calm acceptance surprised her. “Is the school calling in the police?”

  “He…he didn’t say. I don’t think so.”

  “Pity. Time in juvenile hall might teach Jim a good lesson.”

  The tension between Travis and Lee’s oldest hadn’t lessened, and this latest incident was sure to cause even more problems. “You’re talking about a twelve-year-old boy,” Mary felt obliged to remind him.

  “I’m talking about a thief,” Travis snapped. He headed toward the door, grabbed his coat and hat.

  “Where are you going?”

  Travis shot her a disgusted look. “Where else? The school.”

  “I’m going with you.” She reached for her own coat and purse, pleased that Travis didn’t argue with her.

  Nineteen

  Logan slipped into the booth at Martha’s and waited. Tilly watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was patiently waiting for her to deliver a menu and a glass of water with the warm, eager smile she usually gave him.

  Not anymore.

  The decision to break off the relationship with Logan had been one of the most painful of her life. She wasn’t going back on her word now. Second thoughts were too damn costly.

  It was too much to hope that Logan would calmly accept her word. He insisted he wasn’t responsible for the accident that killed the Thompsons. Because she so desperately wanted to believe him, Tilly had wavered. That had been her first mistake, but she was determined not to make more. He’d phoned twice, but she’d let the answering machine screen her calls. Logan must have figured it out because he’d stopped phoning. Tilly should have known he wouldn’t make this easy.

  She tucked the menu under her arm and delivered a glass of water to his table. She pulled the small green pad from her apron pocket. “What can I get for you?”

  “Hi, Tilly.”

  “Would you like me to list the specials?”

  “Can we talk?” he asked.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m working.”

  “I don’t mean now. Later, when you’re free.”

  “No thanks.”

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” Logan asked tightly, displaying the first bit of impatience. “Apparently the fact I love you and have for months doesn’t count for a damn thing.”

  “Pumpkin pie’s the special of the month. Martha ordered pumpkin-flavored ice cream as well. Do you want to give it a try?”

  “I’d like to try strangling you. I don’t know when anyone’s frustrated me more.”

  Tilly felt the blood drain from her face.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Damn it, T
illy, you’ve got me so tied up in knots I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  His face was tight with pain. She couldn’t look at him and not hurt. His eyes pleaded with her, telling her he was miserable. She was miserable, too, but more than that she was afraid she was throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  “I don’t know what I can say or do to convince you of the truth.” There was a tortured quality to his voice that tugged at her resolve.

  She didn’t dare listen for fear he’d change her mind. She started to turn away, but Logan caught her arm and held her there. “Hear me out. This one last time, that’s all I ask. Will you do that for me?”

  Unable to speak, she nodded.

  “I don’t blame you for thinking I’m the one responsible. I probably would have reached the same conclusion. I’ll say it again, just one last time. I had nothing to do with the accident that killed Lee and Janice Thompson. Frankly, I don’t blame you for not believing me. I’m not sure I would either in like circumstances.”

  This was much harder than Tilly had expected it would be.

  “I love you, Tilly, I have from almost the first. I wish I’d done things differently. In the beginning you wouldn’t even date me, remember? Then you assumed I was attracted to you for one thing and one thing only. Dear God, when I think back…” He paused and rubbed his hands over his eyes, then shook his head as if to dislodge the memory. “When I arrived in Grandview, I was an emotional wreck. You know, the divorce and all…and, well, the whole thing was like a festering boil.

  “Then I met you. You were so warm and generous. Not once did you ask anything of me. I couldn’t get over it. I’d never met a woman who didn’t expect something from me. At first I found it refreshing. It seemed too good to be true.”

  It had felt that way for Tilly, too. She’d been scared and battle weary when she’d first met Logan. They’d needed each other, and that was what had drawn them together.

  “The sex…dear sweet heaven, I’ve never known it could be so good. By the time the divorce was final, Kathe had stripped away my pride, my self-esteem, and my manhood. When I met you, I’d given up the idea of ever being able…you know, to please a woman in bed.”