Jodie tucked her chin to her chest and broke out in a guffaw. “I didn’t know you had a vengeful side in you.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Liz tapped a finger on her forehead. “We could have looked up the instructions on the Internet and detonated the thing in the sky.”
Had they all lost their minds? There wasn’t one thing funny about the whole situation, and yet—it started as a weak giggle, developed into laughter, and soon they were all wiping at their eyes.
“God, that felt good,” Liz said.
Someone rapped on the bedroom door and then opened it. “Pizza is here. I tossed in some napkins and there’s three bottles of root beer in the paper sack.” Miss Rosie carried the box in and set it on the dresser.
“Thank you, Miss Rosie,” Liz said. “For everything.”
“Lord, honey, I ain’t had this much fun since Woodstock.”
“You went to the real Woodstock?” Jodie asked.
“Oops, that slipped out slicker’n bacon grease on a glass doorknob. You kids enjoy this.” Miss Rosie grinned.
“I’m over the anger and the guilt about no guilt. What’s the next step?” Hannah asked.
“Depression,” Liz said.
“Well, I ain’t doin’ that one. I done been down that road and I don’t like it,” Hannah declared.
“Me, neither. I might even skip all of them and go back to enjoyin’ my life in Kentucky,” Jodie said.
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Liz said.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hannah picked up her phone and didn’t have the sudden adrenaline rush of fear that Marty would be angry about the mess in the house. When he’d shown up that morning, she’d automatically scanned the living room and fought the panic when she saw how cluttered it was. But now she didn’t give a damn. She’d come a long way in such a short time. Liz needed a project, and she was going to have a messy house by nightfall. Those quilting scraps had been shoved up in the corner of the dining room. Cutting and putting together pieces would give Liz something to do and help pass the waiting time for Jodie, too.
Liz answered on the first ring. “Please tell me you are coming down here. I am going stir-crazy.”
“Whoa.” Hannah stopped her with a word. “I was thinking more that you two would come down here and we’d do some quilting. We all need a project today. Even Jodie is getting crazy with this waiting.”
“What about Sophie?” Liz asked cautiously.
“We won’t make a big deal of it, and she has Laurel to keep her busy for the rest of the week. There’s barbecued chicken in the Crock-Pot, so we don’t even have to stop and cook at noon. We’ll just make some pulled chicken sandwiches,” Hannah said.
“You are so good at organizing things,” Liz said.
“I took a class called Living with OCD 101. I don’t recommend it. I’ll have the sewing machine up when y’all get here. You might ask Miss Rosie if she wants to join us and bring extra scissors. I only have one decent pair.”
Liz got so tickled that she snorted when she laughed. “And I bet they don’t have a sharp point.”
“Why is that funny?”
“Think about it,” Liz said, and the phone went dark.
Bella looked like a little blonde-haired toy as she crawled into the kitchen, flipped around, and sat up. She pointed at Lullaby, hidden behind a table leg, and jabbered.
“If we could understand her, that cat would be in so much trouble.” Jodie laughed. “What’s the matter? You look like you can’t remember something.”
“Oh!” Hannah suddenly smiled. “It was what Liz said about not having sharp-pointed scissors. Now I get it. I might have been tempted to stab Marty with them.”
“You did have kitchen knives, though,” Jodie said.
“Yes, I did, and the thought entered my mind many times. If I could have figured out a way without going to jail, I would have probably put a plan in motion,” Hannah said seriously. “We are going to drag that bag of quilting scraps out today and start a project to give Liz something constructive to do. You ever do any quilting?”
“Grew up going to quilting bees with my granny. Can I take whatever I make with me?”
“Sure you can. There’s tons of fabric scraps down at the hangar and over in Aunt Birdie’s storage shed, too. Aunt Birdie suggested we make throws instead of full-size quilts so we can quilt them without a frame.”
“I could just make a pretty top and take it with me on Saturday,” Jodie said. “I’m sure this fabric is a lot nicer than the scraps we get in our part of the world, which are usually just the good parts of clothing that has worn out. Do you think that would be all right?”
“I’m here,” Liz yelled right after she knocked on the door and let herself inside the house. “Are you sure about this, Hannah? I’m not completely healed up.”
Hannah raised her voice. “In the dining room. We’re about to dump the scraps on the floor. And I’m sure.”
Liz headed for the refrigerator. “I want a beer, and I don’t care if it’s early in the morning.” She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a long-neck bottle. “I’ve been thirsty for one of these for two days.”
“Where’s Aunt Birdie? I thought she might come with you,” Jodie said.
“She said that she and Miss Rosie were going to drive into town to grocery shop since—oh, my sweet Lord! Look at all that pretty stuff,” Liz said.
“Let’s make quilt tops for Jodie to take home to Kentucky this week. We’ll always be able to make throws for our own use,” Hannah said. “And I’ve given this a lot of thought, Liz. Sophie is going to see abused women coming and going.”
“Don’t shield her but don’t make her afraid,” Jodie said. “That’s my advice. Just treat it without a lot of emotion.”
“Okay, then.” Liz set the beer on the cabinet and moved to her place at the table. “I can sit right there and cut the pieces. Jodie can pick out the way she wants them to go together and you can sew them up on the machine. I bet we could top out two a day if we just do a simple patchwork.”
“Oh, my goodness!” Jodie clamped a hand over her mouth. “Y’all would do that for me?”
“Honey, I’d try to run a marathon even in the shape I’m in to have something to do other than read books or watch television,” Liz said. “I keep worrying that Wyatt will change his mind about it all and refuse to give me a divorce.”
“Aunt Liz!” Sophie ran into the room and wrapped her arms around Liz’s neck. “I haven’t seen you in a long time. What happened to your face?”
“I had an accident, but I’m going to be all right.”
Sophie kissed her gently on the stitches and both bruised cheeks. “There, that will make it all better. Do we need to go out on the porch and sing the twinkle song?”
“I think I’ll be all right.” Liz smiled.
“Okay, but if you change your mind, you just call me or else come in my room and we will sing. Can me and Laurel have a cookie, Mama? And can we take it to my room? We’re playin’ McDonald’s with our Barbie dolls.”
Hannah handed each of them two cookies. “One for y’all to eat now and one to pretend to buy later.”
They chased off to the bedroom, giggles following in their wake. Liz inhaled and smiled, and Hannah nodded. Words weren’t needed. They had gotten past upsetting Sophie, and now Liz could come and go as she wanted. Hannah picked up the bag from the corner and dumped out an array of gorgeous fabric scraps, ranging in size from a few inches to half a yard, onto the table.
“Hey, where is everyone?” Darcy yelled from the front door. “I was out here with one of my loan officers looking at a piece of property, and my lunch hour is in fifteen minutes, so I stuck around.” She scooped Bella up in her arms. “I want a dozen just like this precious little girl.”
Bella cooed and reached for the bright colors, so Darcy set her right in the middle of them.
“That would make the most beautiful picture for Cal’s baby campaign,” Liz
said.
“Oh, no!” Jodie threw up both palms. “Her face cannot be on anything or my ex will come looking for her.”
“I’m so sorry,” Darcy said with a surprising blush.
“I bet you’ll be so glad to be back in Kentucky, where you feel safe,” Liz said, smoothing things over.
“Yes, I will,” Jodie said. “Why don’t we do a six-inch patchwork? It goes together pretty fast. That sound good to you, Hannah?”
Liz picked up a piece of bright-turquoise fabric. “My granny used to make them with diagonal colored pieces, and they were so pretty. I’ll help cut squares and stack them up and then I’ll figure out the way they’ll go together to get the diagonal stripes from the bottom up.”
“Granny is going to love this,” Jodie said.
“We can all cut squares until we use up what’s here, and then we’ll start sewing,” Hannah said.
“Not me.” Darcy shook her head. “If it’s all right with Jodie, I’m taking Bella down to the hangar. She can use some fresh air, and I want to see Cal. And Miss Rosie sent her cutter so one of you can use it. She says that it’ll make things go twice as fast and the squares will be perfect. She did send an extra set of scissors, so someone can cut threads as you sew things together, Hannah. It’s in the brown bag over there by the door. I dropped it when I saw Bella.”
“You can’t take her outside. It’s too dangerous,” Hannah said. “First rule in the safe house book.”
Darcy clamped her hand over her mouth. “I forgot about that. Then I’ll run down to the hangar and be back in five with a report on how things are going.”
Jodie smoothed a piece of hot-pink material. “Would any or all of you like to relocate to Kentucky? I’m going to miss you so much. This has been such a wonderful place to get my bearings before my brother comes. Sophie called it right when she said the name of the house was Lullaby Sky. It makes us feel like we’re being rocked to sleep out in the backyard with the stars and moon smiling down on us. It takes away the turmoil from our hearts.”
“That’s so sweet,” Hannah said.
More and more, she was convinced that she was doing the right thing and Lullaby Sky was a wonderful name for her house. Patchwork House fit the shelter, because it was the place where women could patch their lives back together, but Hannah’s safe house was where they could come and find tranquillity.
“See y’all later. And she’s right, Hannah. I don’t know if it’s the house or if it’s you, but I always feel good here.” Darcy disappeared from the room.
Hannah knew how to operate the cutting tool, since it was so much like the paper cutter she used at school when she helped the kindergarten teacher. After the first couple of cuts, she figured out that the fabric should be ironed to get the squares cut perfectly, so Jodie took on that job. Liz stacked and counted them, pinning a sticky note on the top of each pile as they finished with a color.
A cross-eyed monkey could be trained to do the work, and Hannah’s mind wandered as she made the cuts. Liz and Jodie were talking about letting go of the anger and moving on to the next phase of their lives. Hannah still had a burst of pure old rage every time she thought about those cameras, bugs, and the tracking device on her old cell.
But then when she thought about that kiss she and Travis had shared, everything disappeared but joy. Comfort and joy, like the Christmas carol, she thought. Why couldn’t fate have put me and Travis together in the beginning?
“You are arguing with yourself, and you know what Jerry Clower says about that?” Liz poked her on the upper arm.
“I cut my teeth on Jerry Clower and on Patsy Cline and Dolly Parton music. Granny still listens to the old classic country music, as well as the Kentucky bluegrass stuff,” Jodie said. “And I know that story that Jerry used to tell. If you’re arguing with yourself, you’re fixin’ to mess up.”
“Aunt Birdie and Miss Rosie love his humor, so we all sat through it,” Liz said. “Why don’t we cut out and label today and start sewing tomorrow?”
“Hey, ladies.” Travis rapped on the door and came in without waiting. “I’ve got to run into Gainesville. Need anything?”
“Three spools of white thread,” Hannah answered.
“Okay, anything else? Want to go with me, Hannah?” he asked.
Lord, yes, she wanted to go with him. She would love to spend time in the cab of his truck alone with him on the ride down to Gainesville and back. To see just how wild those sparks would get in tight quarters. But she couldn’t leave Sophie like that, or leave her girls in the middle of a project.
She shook her head. “We’ve got a pretty good assembly line going here. If you’re getting the thread at Walmart, you could pick up a quart of potato salad and one of that pasta salad that Sophie likes. Oh, and a package of hamburger buns for our pulled chicken. You and Cal can eat with us, since Aunt Birdie and Miss Rosie are out of pocket today.”
“Will do. Thread, two kinds of salad, and buns. I’ll see y’all at noon,” Travis said.
He’d barely cleared out of the house when Hannah felt two sets of eyes boring into her heart and soul. “What?” she asked.
“There were vibes,” Liz said.
“I could almost see them,” Jodie chimed in.
“You are both crazy. We’re all getting out of bad stuff, so how can you even think about . . .” She couldn’t say the words relationships or love.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Hannah closed her eyes, but she couldn’t sleep. She beat on her pillow and drew the sheet up over her shoulders, but that didn’t work. She tried counting backward from one hundred but all she saw was stacks of quilting squares. Finally, she threw back the covers and crawled out of bed to pace from one side of the room to the other. Jodie would leave on Saturday morning, and Travis would have no reason to be in the house. She’d miss Jodie but was glad that Travis had planned something to keep Sophie from being sad. Not even Lullaby would be able to keep her occupied after she had had a little girl to play with 24-7.
Pulling back the curtains and looking out over the backyard, she sighed loud enough that the moon and stars probably heard her. She finally pulled on a pair of jean shorts and tiptoed from her bedroom and out onto the front porch, where she sat down on the steps and looked up at the sky. Tonight it wasn’t a lullaby sky at all. Tonight there were as many questions in her heart as there were stars and she had no idea if there were even answers to be had.
“You couldn’t sleep, either?” Travis asked as he made his way from the screen door to sit beside her. He handed her a cold beer, and she took a long sip.
“I worry and try to analyze everything to death,” she answered. “It doesn’t make for a peaceful night’s rest sometimes.”
“We need to talk,” he said.
“It was just a kiss. It doesn’t have to be more than that. We are two adults.” She sipped her beer again, more to shut herself up than to actually drink.
“That’s not what we need to talk about,” he said. “But FYI, it was more to me than just a kiss. I’ve waited more than twenty years to kiss you, and it was a big deal to me.”
“Why did you wait so long?”
“Look at me. I’m just a lanky old carpenter with glasses and a horse face. You are movie-star beautiful, and you deserve something a hell of a lot better than me,” he said.
She laid a hand on his knee. “I’ve never saw you like that.”
“How do you see me now?” He turned to face her.
“I see strength. Your face has angles that a sculptor would die to be able to create. In or out of your glasses, I see soulful eyes that would melt a woman’s heart. And I know you have a heart of gold, Travis, so don’t ever talk about my friend like that again.” She smiled.
“Is that all I am? A friend?”
“Do you want to be more?” She held her breath and hoped that she knew the answer.
“I have for years and years.”
She reached for his hand and laced her small fingers in his big, cal
lused ones. “I need some time.”
“I’m more than willing to wait, as long as you’ll tell me if someone else comes along.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle.
“I promise I will, but I don’t think you have a thing to worry about,” she said breathlessly.
“We should talk about another thing.” Travis chose his next words carefully and slowly. “You ever read anything by Teresa Walters?”
“Just everything she’s ever written. She may be my favorite romantic suspense author. I absolutely love her. On one of the rare occasions when I was in Dallas with Marty, I got to go to one of her book signings. You can find that book in the old antique secretary in the living room. I didn’t even read it but bought another one at Walmart so I wouldn’t break the back binding on the signed one. Why would you ask that?”
He squeezed her hand. “Because I am Teresa Walters.”
Hannah’s mind did a couple of quick spins trying to figure out what he’d just said. He couldn’t be Teresa, because she had bright-red hair, blue eyes, and a round face, and she was short, like Hannah. There was no way he could be her even in drag. So why would he say that?
“When my first book hit it so big eight years ago, my agent wanted me to do all that promo work, and I just couldn’t. I’m not cut out for that kind of stuff, so we hired a model and she signs books, smiles pretty, and is the face on the back of my books,” Travis said.
“You write romance?” Hannah gasped.
He dropped her hand and wrapped both of his around his beer bottle. “I knew it would make a difference. You’ll never look at me the same now, but I couldn’t keep the secret from you any longer.”
“No, I won’t look at you the same. Now I’ll be looking at you in total awe, Travis. My God, you are amazing,” she said.
He whipped around to stare at her. “You are the inspiration for Harley O’Rourke.”
“No way! She’s fearless.” Hannah could feel her eyes getting wider and wider.
The Lullaby Sky Page 20
