ROYAL'S CHILD

by Sharon Sala

  Royal slumped. He knew his brothers were right. Already the sounds of Maddie's panic were subsiding. But that didn't help him. He needed to see her—to reassure her that all would be right in her world. He stood in the doorway, staring long and hard down the ward until one of the nurses began ushering him out.

  "For God's sake, let me see her," he begged. "You heard her. She's scared to death, and with good reason. She went to sleep in her own home, in her own bed, and she wakes up in this place attached to needles and tubes and machines, and I'm nowhere in sight. At least let me assure her that I'm not far away."

  Maddie's plaintive cries wrapped around them. The nurse hesitated.

  "Wait here," she said and pivoted.

  Royal held his breath. The need to see his daughter was making him sick. He had never been able to bear hearing her cry. Knowing she must be frightened half out of her mind made him crazy. His fingers curled into fists as he watched the nurses in conversation by Maddie's bed.

  And then one of them turned and motioned for him to come forward. His heart lifted. Within seconds he was standing at Maddie's side.

  "Hey, baby girl, Daddy's here," he said. "Don't cry."

  Maddie's wails dissolved into soft, gulping sobs. Careful not to disturb her IV, he leaned forward and gathered her into a hug.

  "I want to go home," Maddie sobbed.

  "And I want you there, sweetheart," Royal said softly. "But you got sick. Do you remember?"

  Tears were streaming down her face as her head rolled from side to side.

  "I don't remember anything but the lady," Maddie said.

  Royal frowned. "What lady, baby?"

  "The one who was sitting on my bed."

  Royal spun toward the nurses. The head nurse smiled and shook her head.

  "She must have been hallucinating. We don't sit on patients' beds."

  Maddie sniffed as Royal wiped tears from her face. "Not them," she said. "The pretty lady in the blue dress. The one who's sending me an angel."

  Royal frowned. Even now, knowing that Maddie seemed over the worst, the talk of angels made him nervous.

  "You were dreaming, baby. Sometimes when people get sick they have real crazy dreams."

  Tears welled. "It wasn't a dream."

  "Another minute, Mr. Justice, and then I'll ask you to leave. Even if your daughter is better, the other patients in here are not."

  Royal nodded.

  "Don't go," Maddie begged.

  "I won't be far," Royal said. "See those doors?"

  Maddie turned her head, nodding as her chin continued to quiver.

  "Guess who's out there?"

  Maddie clutched her father's hand even tighter.

  "Uncle Roman and Aunt Holly and Uncle Ryder and Aunt Casey."

  Maddie's eyes widened at the mention of her favorite people, especially Roman. "I want to see my uncle Roman."

  "And you will, baby, you will. Just as soon as the doctor lets me, I'll take you home. But you're going to have to take it easy for a couple of days. You've been a pretty sick little girl, okay?"

  "Okay," she muttered, and her eyelids began to droop.

  "Mr. Justice, please."

  Royal nodded. The nurse was out of patience, and he was out of time.

  "Close your eyes and take a nap, baby. I'll be back in an hour, okay?"

  But Maddie's eyes were already closed. The medicine and her lingering weakness were taking their toll. Royal kissed her forehead and gave her cheek a last, lingering touch. By the time he got into the waiting area, there was a smile on his face.

  Ryder stood up. "How is she?"

  Royal nodded. "Better. The fever broke. I think the worst is over."

  There was a general all-around hug between the Justice family, which lightened the mood considerably. But it was Roman who introduced some reality into the situation, reminding them that Maddie had a ways to go before being cured. His voice was quiet and filled with regret as he caught Royal by the arm.

  "You know that bite is likely to leave a hell of a scar."

  Royal nodded.

  Holly frowned. "A scar? Surely a spider bite doesn't scar."

  "This spider's bite does," Roman said.

  Royal nodded. "It's a bitch, and that's for sure. Not only is it deadly, but the pain will be pretty severe and the flesh around the bite will probably rot away. But I don't give a good damn how it looks when it's over, because she will still be alive."

  Casey slipped her hand in the bend of Royal's elbow and hugged him close to her. Her voice was sweet and low, filled with the accent of her native Mississippi.

  "We will say prayers."

  Royal was blinking back tears as he looked around the small waiting area.

  "Thanks," he said gruffly.

  "For what?" they all said.

  "For being here," Royal answered.

  "Where else would we be?" Roman said. "We're family. We're all we've got."

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  « ^ »

  Within days of the spider incident, the entire house had been fumigated, and Royal had hired two cleaning women from town to put the house to rights. He'd watched them with a wary eye, making sure that every insect and spider they swept up was dead. Maddie's room smelled of lemon-scented disinfectant and furniture polish. Her favorite teddy bear was on her pillow, awaiting her arrival. As soon as he got his baby girl back, his world would be on track.

  He stood in the doorway to her room, remembering the day she'd been born. It had been a mixture of heaven and hell. Watching his daughter claim life and watching his young wife die. His emotions had run the gamut. But he'd survived, and so had Maddie.

  Now, as difficult as it was for him to accept, she was growing up. This fall she would start kindergarten. That meant half a day of school. For years he had chosen to ignore the fact that the routine he'd adopted was no longer going to work. He wouldn't be able to yank Maddie out of her bed, toss her into the pickup with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and take her to work with him. There would be no more fixing fence with her unceasing chatter in the background or hauling hay with her sitting by his side. Soon, her days would no longer be all his. Somehow, he was going to have to find a way to adjust.

  Twice during his trips to the hospital, Roman had brought up the subject of a permanent housekeeper, and each time Royal had balked. He'd had a housekeeper when Maddie was a baby. She'd lasted through Maddie's third birthday and then moved away. The separation had been traumatic for them all. Royal had vowed not to put Maddie through such loss again. Over time they'd fallen into a routine that had suited them both. Just the thought of finding someone new to intrude into their world was an all-around pain-in-the-ass notion. Sharing space with anyone except his daughter, no matter how good and kind she might be, wasn't something Royal Justice did easily.

  He glanced at his watch. It was almost seven. Holly had been at the hospital with Maddie more than three hours. They'd moved Maddie into a regular room, and she had not been left alone. Someone from the Justice family was with her at all times during the day, but it was Royal who stayed every night. His steps were light as he grabbed his keys on the way out the door. Tomorrow he was bringing her home.

  * * *

  Angel Rojas sat on the side of her bed, counting her meager stash of money. Rent on her apartment was due, and even though she knew truth was on her side, there would be no justice for her in this town. Not with Fat Louie's angry influence. She flopped onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling in quiet despair.

  "Why do I keep getting myself in these messes?"

  No one bothered to answer, because no one was there.

  It was getting dark. One set of people were in the act of shutting themselves in behind closed doors while others were coming to life. And while the night called to some, there was nothing within it that called to Angel. She'd seen it all and committed a few more sins than she liked to admit, but turning tricks had never been an option.

  She closed her eyes
and rolled onto her side, then took a deep breath, making her mind relax. She was tired and heartsick and needed to rest. Today had been rough, but in the words of her heroine, Scarlett O'Hara, tomorrow was another day.

  By sunrise she had made a decision. It had taken years for her to accumulate what constituted her worldly possessions, and parting with them was going to be painful. But she'd learned long ago not to dwell on a bad situation, and this was definitely one of her worst. If she had to leave town to survive, then she would do it. But there was no way she could take her things, too.

  There was a living room suite bought at a yard sale. A bed and dresser that didn't match, and a table and three chairs she'd inherited from the previous resident of the apartment. Her entire wardrobe would fit in one small closet. The only thing she owned that she deemed of great value was a bookcase full of books she had spent years accumulating. She didn't own a car, she didn't have a credit card, and she didn't know where she was going. She gazed longingly around the small rooms, painfully realizing that this was no longer her home. Then she clenched her jaw, picked up the sign she'd made and walked outside. With a grunt, she stuck it in the lawn near the curb.

  Moving Sale—Apartment Three

  By five o'clock, she was sitting on the floor of an empty apartment and counting her money. Almost two hundred dollars to add to what she'd taken from Fat Louie, and she still didn't have five hundred dollars to begin a new life. Her hands were shaking as she folded her money and staffed it in the bottom of her purse, then dropped the purse between her legs and closed her eyes.

  "Please, God," she whispered. "Show me the way. All I want is a home."

  That night she slept on the floor, and by daylight she was gone.

  Later, someone remarked to Fat Louie that he thought he'd seen Louie's waitress hitchhiking west out of town.

  Louie tongued his unlit cigar to the other side of his mouth, all the while cursing good riddance to the crazy bitch.

  Meanwhile, Angel Rojas was doing what she knew how to do best—putting the past behind her and moving on.

  * * *

  "Maddie, want to come see the new kittens?" Royal asked.

  "I guess," Maddie said, sliding off the sofa and dragging her feet as she followed him out the door.

  Royal frowned. Ever since her return from the hospital, Maddie had been moping around the ranch like a calf that had lost its mother. Nothing seemed to interest her. Offers to let her cat, Flea Bit, into the house to play had fallen flat, and visits from her uncle Roman had failed to excite her. The doctors had quoted statistics, assuring Royal that some depression was normal after a hospital stay and that it would pass. But Royal didn't like statistics, and he wanted whatever was wrong with Maddie to be gone.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, as they strolled toward the barn. He glanced at the angry red spot on her leg. Although it was healing nicely, it was far from well. "Is your leg hurting, baby? Want Daddy to carry you?"

  "No," she said, and kicked up a cloud of dust without pausing.

  Royal's frown deepened as he tried to find a topic that might excite her.

  "Dumpling has a calico kitten with one blue eye and one brown eye, what do you think about that?" he asked.

  Maddie paused and looked up. "Does that mean she sees blue with one eye and brown with the other?"

  Royal grinned, scooped her off her feet and set her on his shoulders, careful to miss the sore part of her leg.

  "No, it does not, and you know it," he said, chuckling as they started toward the barn. "What color are my eyes?" he asked.

  "They're blue," Maddie answered. "Just like mine."

  "Right. And when you look, is everything blue?"

  "No," she said, and he heard her giggle. The sound was music to his ears.

  "Then there's your answer."

  He heard her sigh and felt her hands gripping the crown of his Stetson. Carrying her like this was hell on the shape of a good hat, but he'd willingly sacrifice a truckload of hats just to get back the girl she'd been.

  They entered the shade of the barn. He set her in the midst of the hay where a mother cat was busy grooming her two-week-old litter. Royal shook his head in dismay as he counted the kittens. Five more to add to the growing number already in residence on his ranch. And then he shrugged. A working ranch could not have too many cats. As long as they stayed in the barns and sheds where the mice and rats might be, they were fine.

  But there was Flea Bit, the cat who, thanks to Roman's interference, had taken up residence in the house. That damned ball of fur was underfoot every time he took a step. Then he looked at Maddie, squatting in the midst of the hay, tenderly stroking the new babies while muttering her sweet talk to the old mother cat. His heart tugged. He hoped to hell Maddie didn't ask to bring any of these cats to the house. There wasn't enough spit left in him to tell her no about anything. He squatted beside her, and when he tuned in on what she was saying, his frown deepened.

  "I'm sorry I didn't come see you sooner," Maddie said, stroking the old cat's head in short, gentle strokes. "I got sick." She leaned closer, as if telling the cat a secret. "I saw a lady," she said softly. "She promised me angels." Her lower lip drooped. "But the angel didn't come."

  Ah, Royal thought. The reason for her depression.

  He dropped to one knee, cupping the back of his daughter's head.

  "Maddie, look at me."

  Maddie continued to stroke the cat's head as if her father was nowhere in sight.

  "Madeline Michelle, I'm talking to you," Royal said softly.

  When Maddie looked up, there was a stubborn, like-father-like-daughter thrust to her chin.

  "What?" she muttered.

  "You don't need to worry about angels anymore, okay?"

  Her face fell. "But Daddy, the lady promised."

  Royal tipped her chin so she was staring at him eye to eye.

  "Maddie, there was no lady on your bed and there isn't going to be an angel coming. Angels don't live with people, they live in heaven, remember?"

  She nodded, but he could tell she wasn't buying his explanation.

  "What you saw … what you thought you saw, that was all part of your illness. Do you understand?"

  Her lower lip protruded. "I saw a lady," she said shortly, and turned away, pretending great interest in the kitten with one blue eye and one brown eye. She lifted it into her lap, carefully judging its odd markings with a practiced eye and then abruptly announced, "I'm going to name him Marbles."

  In spite of the fact that his talk had gone nowhere, he had to grin. "Why Marbles?"

  "’Cause his eyes are the color of the marbles in the bottom of Uncle Roman's fish tank."

  Royal rocked on his heels and grinned. "Marbles it is," he said softly. "How about the other four? Don't they need names, too?"

  Maddie looked them over carefully, then shook her head. "No, only this one."

  "Why?" Roman asked.

  She looked at him, as if surprised by the stupidity of his question.

  "Because Marbles is a people cat, not a mouse cat."

  Royal rolled his eyes. "Oh, no, you don't," he said lightly, and put the kitten with the mother before setting Maddie on his shoulders for the trip to the house. "We're not making a house pet out of another cat, and that's final."

  There was a marked silence between father and daughter. They were halfway to the house when Maddie leaned close to Royal's ear.

  "Daddy."

  "What, baby?"

  "Do you think Flea Bit will sleep with Marbles?"

  "If we're lucky, no," he muttered.

  "What did you say?" Maddie asked.

  "I said, it's hard to know," he answered, and said a mental prayer for forgiveness for the small white lie.

  * * *

  Tommy Boy Watson was looking for whores. At the age of thirty-seven, he was old enough to indulge his baser instincts if he so chose, but it wasn't the sex he was after. Since the death of his father, Claude, the extermination of whores had become h
is quest. He'd watched his old man go from being a successful trucker to an invalid, fighting the ravages of AIDS. The irony of Claude Watson's disease came from the fact that he didn't even know who'd given it to him or how many he'd passed it to before he became ill. He'd been a notorious womanizer, often taking advantage of the prostitutes hanging around the parking lots of truck stops and rest stops along the nation's highways. After Claude had been diagnosed, it had taken a month shy of three years for him to die, and he'd died blaming the lot lizards and not himself.

  At four inches over five feet tall, Tommy Boy was almost a foot shorter and one hundred pounds lighter than his father had been. His biggest disappointment in life had been his size. He'd compensated with attitude. He'd done the job well. Tommy Boy Watson wasn't just tough, he was mean. And since his father's demise, a little crazy, as well. His pale green eyes seemed innocuous until you looked beneath his smile. Pure evil dwelled there. He wore a long, unkempt beard and tied his thin and graying hair into a ponytail. He favored baseball caps and kept all his keys on a heavy silver chain hooked to a belt loop. He was fond of the clink the links made as they rubbed against the rivets in his jeans.

  Six weeks ago, he'd stood at his father's grave with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a switchblade in the other and made a vow to get rid of every whore to cross his path. In his mind, it was the least he could do to avenge Claude's death. No other decent man should suffer the way his father had suffered. He'd been on the road since then, leaving the mutilated bodies of fallen women in his wake.

  Last night he'd crossed the state line into Texas. It was the first time he'd been this far south. He didn't know whether he liked it, and it didn't really matter. He hadn't come for his health.

  His gaze was sharp as he watched the people coming and going from the truck stop parking lot. There were plenty of women, but so far, none looked as if they were surfing for business.

  Today it was hotter than normal, even for Texas, even for the middle of May, but it gave him cool satisfaction to know that he'd left the state of Oklahoma with one less hooker than it had had the day before.