For Momma's Sake

by Bonnie Gardner

  Darcy held her breath as she watched him scan the room and finally settle his gaze on her. Their eyes locked, and Darcy gasped for air as the crowd parted between them.

  She didn’t realize when or how, but Darcy was on her feet. She stepped forward to meet him, her Billy, but he crossed the small room in three long strides.

  Billy swept her into his arms and kissed her long, hard, and possessively. With a ragged groan, he dragged his lips away. “Thank you for being here,” he murmured loud enough for only Darcy to hear. “I feel better knowing that you were there for my mother,” he added huskily.

  “I did what I could,” Darcy said simply. Her words caught in her throat. She had done nothing. How could he be thanking her when she might have been able to save her if she’d gone into that room a few minutes sooner?

  He kissed her again, then seemed to remember that they were not alone. He stepped away, and Darcy’s arms felt empty without him there. Would he ever hold her like this again? Or was this the beginning of the end?

  Bobby and Lucy Carterette came toward them, and Darcy almost felt relief that they would dilute the powerful magnetic field around Billy, drawing her to him.

  Now was not the time to be exploring that attraction, even if her heart craved it.

  Billy had not come here for her. He had come home because his mother had died, she had to remind herself. He had come here to say his final goodbye to Nettie. He had only come to her seeking comfort.

  She had to remember that if she was going to make it through the next few days.

  * * *

  FINALLY, they were gone.

  He could breathe again.

  Bill stood on the front porch, leaning against the support post, and watched as the red taillights of the last car disappeared down the lane. He knew the family and friends had meant well, but he’d had enough of his kind and generous neighbors. What he really wanted was to be alone. With Darcy, his wife.

  He considered going out for a long run. Anything to assuage the pain, but his pain was too deep for that to help. Too open, too raw.

  He heard the screen door squeaking behind him, but he didn’t turn. He knew who it was. Darcy. She had stayed inside to deal with the remnants of the bountiful feast that his friends and neighbors had gifted them with.

  “I don’t think I’ll have to cook for a week,” Darcy said quietly as she stepped outside.

  Bill listened for the familiar creak of the porch swing as Darcy settled into her usual place, but instead he felt her small hand on his arm, and a river of warmth flowed through him. Odd how cold he felt in spite of the clinging, July heat.

  He liked Darcy’s touch. He liked the way she felt in his arms.

  “As much as I wish your mother were still here with us,” Darcy said softly, “I know she’s happy to be reunited with your father.”

  “Yeah,” Bill said thickly, his throat tight.

  “They didn’t have much time together on this earth, but now they’ll have the rest of eternity,” she whispered, her voice cracking with unrestrained emotion.

  Bill turned and, as if it had been choreographed, Darcy melted into his arms. He hadn’t had to ask her, or beg her, or pull her to him.

  She was just there. Right where he needed her. At the right time.

  “I missed you,” he breathed, not sure he’d even said it aloud. He tucked her head under his chin and held her close to his heart and felt her rapid heartbeat, like that of a frightened bird, beating against his. That should have been enough.

  But it wasn’t.

  He kissed the top of Darcy’s head, but that wasn’t enough, either. He placed two fingers under Darcy’s chin and tipped her face up to his. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted her to kiss him. And this time, not for show.

  It would all be for him.

  Only him.

  She accepted his unspoken invitation and kissed him.

  He should stop this now, Bill thought abstractly, but he couldn’t bear the thought of ending it. Of tearing himself away from her.

  He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the door.

  * * *

  BILLY STRODE PURPOSEFULLY to her room, the door outside which Darcy was certain he had stood on their wedding night, but not come in.

  The time hadn’t been right then, but now it was.

  Billy started to say something, but Darcy stopped him. She didn’t want him to take the time to think, or to give her a chance to change her mind. She wanted to do this. She wanted to love him.

  “Please, Billy,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, strange, not sounding like herself. “Don’t stop. I need you.”

  “Oh, Darcy. You don’t know how I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that,” he murmured as she drew him to her. And nothing would ever be the same.

  * * *

  THE SUN was just as insistent in Darcy’s small room as it always was in Bill’s, and he tried to shut it out. But the finger of light poked at Bill’s tired eyes until he finally forced them open.

  Morning. Too early. Too soon.

  At least, Darcy was still asleep, tucked in against his chest. He should feel like a million bucks, but he felt like a heel.

  He knew that he and Darcy had made a deal.

  Darcy could get out of it now. His mother was gone, as were Darcy’s reasons for being here. In his home, in his arms.

  He didn’t want it to end. He wanted it to last forever. They might have married for a different reason, but why couldn’t they remain so? He loved her. And after last night, he felt sure that she loved him, too.

  This small, capable woman had disproved all his good, well-thought-out reasons for not marrying. Maybe his mother hadn’t been prepared to raise five kids alone. Maybe Lougenia had been unprepared for the emotional blow her divorce had sent her, but Bill sensed that Darcy could handle anything. He loved her for that, and he couldn’t bear the thought of living without her.

  He lay still with her nestled in his arms and watched Darcy sleep. He listened to her breathe and wondered what the day would bring.

  They were in for another long day just like yesterday. Only today, the action would shift to the funeral home, and he wasn’t sure whether that would be easier to take. No matter what the location, it wasn’t going to be easy.

  It was never easy to say goodbye to someone you loved.

  He looked again at Darcy, so beautiful, and closed his eyes as a shard of pain splintered his heart. He didn’t want to have to say goodbye to her, too.

  Dare he hope he wouldn’t have to?

  * * *

  THEY’D SURVIVED the funeral, and if they could only make it through this last gathering of family and friends, the worst would be over. Darcy sighed as another mourner arrived with yet another covered dish of who knew what. She smiled and murmured her thanks and found a space on the overloaded dining-room table.

  “Do you think they’ll ever leave?” Billy whispered into her ear as his hand found the curve of her waist.

  A warm shiver worked its way through her and Darcy smiled. “It’s wonderful that your mother had so many friends, but I’m ready for all this to end,” she said under her breath. She smiled again, this one genuine, as someone else came in—empty-handed.

  “Isn’t it odd that they never hang around for the cleanup?” Billy muttered dryly as Earline came in from the kitchen with a huge stack of paper plates and napkins.

  Darcy pretended to be shocked at Earline’s burden. “Mrs. Scarborough would be scandalized,” Darcy murmured. “Paper plates instead of the good china.”

  “I heard that,” Earline said. “As it happens, Mrs. S. brought them. Now if we could just get all these good folks fed, we could send them on their way.”

  “Amen to that,” Billy said
and squeezed Darcy up against him in a half hug.

  Darcy had come to enjoy these intimate moments, and they had come more frequently since they’d made their marriage more like a real one. But she had to remind herself, it wasn’t permanent.

  In times of grief at the death of a loved one, it was a natural instinct to want to reaffirm life, to defy death. And what was more life-affirming than to show love?

  Too bad it wasn’t real.

  If only Billy would say something, anything, to show that he loved her, she’d stay with him with no reservations. Of course, he had to invite her to stay.

  If he loved her as she did him, they’d have something to build a future on. A life. All he had to do was tell her in three little words.

  They’d slept together as man and wife for the past two nights. In the eyes of the law, they were married. In her heart, they were married, but she still didn’t know what was going on inside Billy’s head. Or his heart.

  She breathed a long, weary sigh.

  Earline nudged her. “Come on. The sooner we serve dinner, the quicker they’ll go.”

  Darcy fell into step beside Billy’s older sister. She wasn’t sure she wanted to rush everyone out because then she and Billy would be alone. If she were alone with Billy, she’d be face to face with her questions.

  And one she was terrified that Billy wouldn’t ask.

  * * *

  BILL SQUEEZED Darcy’s hand as they stood on the porch and waved goodbye to Earline and Edd and the kids. They had stayed long enough to help with the mess, and Earline and Lougenia had relieved them of a good portion of the leftovers. Still, once Billy went back to Florida tomorrow, Darcy would probably end up tossing most of it out.

  Once the minivan was out of sight, Bill drew in a long breath and turned to Darcy. They needed to talk.

  He exhaled and drew her toward the swing and beckoned for Darcy to sit down. She arched an eyebrow, but said nothing as he seated himself beside her.

  “We have to talk,” he said, and wished he hadn’t been so blunt. Darcy stiffened, and her breath caught in her throat.

  Bill didn’t know whether that was a good sign or not, but he had to go on. He inhaled, then let it out slow. “I know we agreed that we were only getting married for Momma,” he said slowly. “But things have changed.”

  Darcy opened her mouth to say something, but Bill stopped her with a finger to her lips. “Let me finish. We got ourselves in a little deeper than we’d intended. But we are good together. I don’t want it to end.” He swallowed and moistened his lips and waited for Darcy to respond.

  She gasped and lifted her hand to her mouth. Her fingers trembled. She looked at him, her brown eyes bright and wide. Had she been expecting something else?

  A real proposal?

  Bill slid to the floor, setting the swing into wild motion as he went. He put a hand out to stop it, then positioned himself on one knee. He took Darcy’s hand, the one on which he’d placed his mother’s ring. “Darcy, I want you for real.”

  She looked at him, her eyes wide, for a long time. Then she blinked. “I—I don’t know,” she murmured. “I wasn’t prepared for this. I need to think.” Then she yanked her hand out of his grasp and ran inside.

  Bill looked after her and tried to understand. It wasn’t exactly hearts and flowers, but he’d said it from his heart. What had he done wrong? Why had she run away?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  DARCY SLAMMED THE DOOR SHUT and flung herself down on the bed covered in silly pink chenille. She wanted to cry, but she clenched the soft fabric in her hands and balled it up in her fists instead. She wanted to scream, to pound something, to hurt Billy as much as he had her.

  Men were so…stupid.

  All she had needed to hear was that Billy loved her. Three little words.

  He’d almost had her, then he’d ruined it all by not saying enough.

  Darcy’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. She would not cry. Weak women did that, and she was not weak. She could deal with this.

  She knew what to do. She wouldn’t give Billy his answer now. She’d wait to see.

  But she had plenty of time. Billy would be leaving tomorrow, and he wouldn’t be home again for weeks.

  By then, maybe, she’d know the answer to her question: did he love her?

  * * *

  WOMEN WERE HARD to figure out, Bill thought as he headed to Florida and the remaining two weeks of the NCO Academy course.

  He’d have given anything to stay in Mattison and try to work it out with Darcy, but he had to get back. And Darcy had barely spoken to him since he’d asked her to remain his wife.

  What had he done wrong?

  Had she truly meant it when she’d told him weeks ago that she had wanted to make her way herself and not depend on someone else for everything?

  Why?

  Bill clenched the steering wheel and wished he could squeeze it in two.

  Then he relaxed.

  At least she had given in and agreed to think about what he’d said. She said she’d tell him when he returned.

  He’d promised not to press her, and he meant to keep his word. In fact, he’d already made up his mind not to call her at all until the class was over. He’d miss hearing her sweet voice over the phone, but maybe she’d miss him, too. Maybe if he played hard to get, she’d come running.

  The dry summer scenery whizzed by as he drove, every mile taking him farther away from Darcy.

  Bill only hoped that absence truly did make the heart grow fonder. Darcy’s heart, not his. He already knew how much he loved her.

  He just wasn’t sure she loved him back.

  * * *

  DARCY SAT in the porch swing, an album filled with fading photos and yellowed newspaper clippings in her lap. She wished that Nettie were still there to tell her about the pictures, the people who populated the book, but they’d never gotten around to it.

  She turned another page and sighed.

  A week had passed since Billy’d left. She had returned to work, and her days were busy enough to keep her from thinking about Billy. Every night she busied herself sorting through Nettie’s belongings, preparing them for…what? Billy?

  Billy had been uncharacteristically silent since his return to Florida, and that worried her. He hadn’t called once, and Darcy missed their nightly chats. She missed the sound of his voice.

  Darcy tried to rationalize that he was busy and that his schedule hadn’t permitted the time for him to call, but she knew it wasn’t true. He was making a point.

  She had hurt him by not trying to explain why she’d turned him down, but she hadn’t tried, and now she missed him.

  She just hoped he missed her, too.

  Darcy knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she loved him. She had already decided that if he asked her again to remain married to him, she would accept. How important were those three little words, anyway?

  They were only words.

  How could mere words stand up against a living, breathing man? In her arms. In her heart. Why should she miss hearing those little words when she had Billy?

  Why hadn’t she said yes?

  She closed the album and went inside to bed. Not to the bed she’d slept in for almost a month, but the other bed across the room. She’d never be able to sleep in her old bed again. It felt too big, too empty, and she felt too alone.

  * * *

  BILL SAT with the rest of his class in a roped-off section of folding chairs and waited until he was called to accept his certificate of completion. He looked around to see wives, husbands and parents in another section of chairs and wondered how many of the other men had no one to share this day. He wondered if he was the only one who was alone.

 
The commandant called his name, and Bill stepped forward to accept the blue plastic folder that contained the proof of completion. He shook the man’s hand, saluted, pivoted smartly, and returned to his seat. It was easy to know what to do when there were rules and procedures. What wasn’t so easy was trying to figure out life.

  The rules for life weren’t in any reg book he knew about.

  What should he do about Darcy?

  He’d halfway hoped that she’d be so bothered by the silent treatment that she’d call him. But she hadn’t.

  How many times had he gone to the pay phone in the hall and reached for it? And how many times had he walked away?

  Why had he retreated?

  Why couldn’t he have taken the offensive? Combat controllers were tough. They took charge. Why was he letting a woman tie him in knots?

  “…Dismissed!”

  Bill pulled himself out of his thoughts as his classmates tossed their hats in the air in celebration, caught them, and en masse surged toward their waiting loved ones.

  He looked around. He was the only one still standing in the seats. The only one alone.

  But, he vowed, he could do something about that. Not this time, of course, but next time, he would have someone waiting for him, too. If he didn’t, it wouldn’t be because he hadn’t tried.

  He loved Darcy, and he was going to make sure she knew it.

  He took one last look at the men and women being congratulated by their loved ones, then he turned and headed in the opposite direction. He had to clear quarters and then he was free.

  Free to do everything he could think of to convince Darcy that he was the man for her.

  He had no intention of ever being alone again.

  He passed by a newspaper stand on the way out of the academy billets and a headline caught his eye. Missing Woman’s Car Found in Abandoned Car Lot: Foul Play Suspected!

  But the headline wasn’t what had him digging in his pocket for some quarters. It was the small head shot that accompanied the article.

  It was a dead ringer for Darcy. The woman he’d married.