Texas rich (20 page)

Seth's eyes went to Agnes, who answered his silent question with a shrug. He stole another look at Billie. The little gal looked terrible. Moss was in for a shock when he got home. Seth disliked pregnancies. A woman changed and became an awkward, ungainly, puffy individual, a caricature of herself. Billie's appearance annoyed him, just the way Jessica's had annoyed him when she'd carried his children. But he was tolerant—or rather, he was forcing himself to be tolerant. After all, this young lady was carrying his future grandson.

{132}

"Three more days and your son will be home," Agnes said brightly as she cut into a succulent sausage. Billie's head went up and her eyes narrowed. His son? Moss was her husband. Agnes took note of Billie's look. "We have to do something about your appearance," she said. "Why don't we go into town and get your hair done and perhaps pick up a new dress? One that isn't so.. .so..."

"So like a tent, Mother? I need the room, or haven't you noticed how much weight I've put on? I'm afraid there aren't too many styles that will fit me."

"You can try," Seth said coolly. There it was. Agnes's backup. She was to go into town. Seth excused himself, and when he returned he laid a check next to Billie's plate. She looked down at it and winced. A thousand dollars to get her hair done and a new dress. "Buy yourself some pretties," Seth said. His tone clearly stated that he thought she needed something. Regardless of how she felt, she knew she had to go to town. Seth tolerated no excuses. Agnes smiled benignly. Seth was so good to them.

The entire day was just one long trial of misery for Billie. At the hairdresser's she'd sat with her shoeless feet propped up while lotions and the heat-wave machine were applied to her hair. Between bouts of nausea she kept reminding the beautician that she wanted a soft curl, no frizz! Twice she'd had to retch into a wastepaper basket while the clamps and wires were still attached to her head, making it impossible for her to bend over. In the end, her hair looked as though she'd stuck her fmger into a live light socket and she nearly sobbed when she was told it would relax within a few weeks. It was cut too short, it was permed too curly, and she thought she resembled a bowling pin when she hazarded a look in a full-length mirror. Thankfully, after the setting and an eternity under the dryer, the effect was not quite so bad.

When Agnes saw Billie's haircut and permanent wave she had to refrain from gasping her shock. "Did you choose that particular style from a magazine, Billie?" she asked offhandedly. Suddenly, Agnes felt very old, hardly a strong-spirited active woman of forty-three. A forty-three-year-old woman couldn't possibly have a woman of forty for her child. And that was exactly how Billie looked, old and worn. Even her pink-and-gold complexion had faded into something resembling jaundice. For the first time Agnes was truly alarmed

{133}

for her daughter's health. "Billie, what did Dr. Ward say the last time you saw him? I've tried not to be an interfering mother, but..."

"Lately, Mother, you've hardly been interfering. Not interested is closer to the truth. Eh". Ward said I should have my teeth checked. Pregnancies are hard on women's teeth. Lord." She managed a grudging laugh. "My teeth are the only part of me that don't hurt! Can we go back to Sunbridge now?"

"Absolutely not. First we're going to have lunch. Seth took me to the PaJadian once and their food is wholesome and simple. Next we're going shopping for some new dresses for you. Now that I've finally gotten you away from the house, we're going to accomplish what we've set out to do. Honestly, Billie, you're getting to be a drudge, just like Jessica."

Billie shot Agnes a warning glance but was feeling too ill to pursue a defense of her mother-in-law. "Whatever we're going to do, let's do it quickly. My feet are swollen and my shoes are pinching and I just want to go home."

Back at Sunbridge, Billie inunediately went to her room. All she wanted was to take her shoes off and have a nice warm bath. She sat on the edge of her bed looking down at her swollen feet with clinical interest. And to think she'd been a double-A narrow only months ago. Would things ever be the same again?

After her bath, Billie went to see how Jessica was feeling, and spent the time before dinner reading the daily paper to her mother-in-law. Jessica's headaches had been too severe to allow her to use her eyes for either reading or working on the baby sweater she was knitting.

"You'd better run along and dress for dinner, Billie. You look so tired. I think the day in town was too much for you. Tell me what you bought. Was Seth generous with his check?"

"More than generous," Billie assured her, remembering for the first time that she hadn't spent anywhere near the entire sum. The remainder must still be tucked away in Agnes's purse. Would she return it to Seth? "I bought a few dresses and tops. One I especially like is a soft sage color with long sleeves and a bias-cut bodice that buttons off to the side. I needed lingerie and a few nightgowns. But there was a dressing gown I simply couldn't resist. It's long and flowing and I thought I'd wear it when Moss arrives so he won't see how swollen my feet and legs are."

Jessica heard the anxiety in Billie's voice and sighed. "Dear

{134}

child, I think you're making too much out of your appearance. Moss is not even going to notice how you look. You're going to be the mother of his child and that's what he's going to think of. I don't want .you rihng yourself up so that you can't enjoy your husband and the Christmas holidays."

"Are you sure, Jessica? I don't want him to have regrets." Her young voice was so full of hope and despair that Jessica found it hard to speak. "I'm sure, child. Run along now and dress for dinner."

Billie leaned over to hug the older woman. "I always feel so much better when I talk to you. I'll come back after dinner. I bought you two new mystery stories." She gave the older woman another light kiss and left the room.

There were tears in Jessica's eyes when she watched Billie leave the room. Billie was a Coleman now and she would have to accept the Colemans the way they were. They couldn't be changed—she had learned that hard and bitter lesson years ago. Billie was a fighter; she had that much going for her. How and when she was going to do her fighting would be what was important. Perhaps she was wrong not to confide in the young woman she had come to love. But how could she tell Billie that Seth hadn't come near her bed after the fourth month of pregnancy? How could she tell Billie about Seth's philandering over the years without making it sound like Moss would do the same thing? A wave of pity washed over her, not for Billie or herself, but for Seth and Moss. They were the losers. In the end, when it counted, she hoped that both men would realize that fact. She blessed herself quickly for her uncharitable thought. She was a Coleman after all.

Moss stepped off the train in Austin's depot, his duffel slung carelessly over his shoulder. "Pap!"

After the two men embraced, Moss pointed to his sleeve. "Take a look, Pap. Lieutenant commander."

"Good for you, boy. You might make admiral yet. You want admiral, I'll get you admiral!"

"Hell, no. Thad's the one who's going to make admiral the way he's going. No more string-pulling, Pap. I'm doing things on my own these days. Where's Mam and Billie? Anything wrong?" he asked as an afterthought.

"Your mother isn't feeling well. Moss. You need to know that."

"Pap, if that's another of your little tricks to get me stateside,

{135}

forget it. Mam has you to look after her. Billie and Agnes can take up the slack. I've got a war to fight."

"Hrmmph! You're being overly dramatic, aren't you, son?"

"With you, Pap, everything has to be overstated before you get it through that head of yours."

"I knew you were going to say that," Seth grumbled good-naturedly. "What's important now is that you're home."

"Where's Billie?" Moss asked again.

"Back at Sunbridge. She's not up to par these days and you'll have to go easy on her. I hate to say it, but you didn't pick yourself a breeder when you picked that one. Pity we men can't try them out first. I had the same trouble with your mother. Seems like the finer bred they are, the harder time they have. Why, I've seen Mexican peasants give birth on the side of the road and go right back to work in the fields."

"What's wrong with Billie, Pap? Give it to me straight. Is the baby, okay?"

"Fine, fine, according to the doctor, anyway. But your Uttle Yankee is having a hard time of it. Sick and pukey all the time. She tries to hide it but I can see it just as plain as the nose on your face. You got any fool ideas of picking up where you left off, just cancel them. You're not going to take chances with my grandson. You get my drift, boy?"

Moss stared at his father. "Is that your way of telling me I should take my biological needs to a cathouse. Pap?"

Seth grimaced. "The navy teach you to sass your pap, boy?"

"The nut doesn't fall far from the tree. Pap. You've got a strong way of talking yourself, if I remember."

"Damn well you remember. Just be nice to that little gal. She's carrying Riley Seth Coleman."

"I see you've accepted my preference for his name, with a little addition of your own." Moss laughed at the bright gleam in his father's eye. It was clear Seth couldn't wait for the baby to be bom.

"C'mon, Carlo is waiting. Let's get the hell out of here. Once we're in the car I want you to tell me everything you've been doing. All of it. And who the hell's this Kingsley fella? Not letting him get the jump on you, are you?"

Moss felt as though he were swimming against the current as he talked to his father. What the hell was going on back at the house? Billie sounded fine in her letters, all seven of them each week. Jesus, he hadn't known there were so many ways to say the same thing over and over. Not that he didn't appre-

{136}

ciate her daily letters. He did. He couldn't wait to see her. That's all he'd been thinking of for the past ten days. He had it all planned in his mind. He was going to rush her right off her feet and carry her up the wide circular stairway, and then, look out! A little bump in the middle wasn't going to make a bit of difference. There were ways to get around that.

"I've got it all planned, boy. We're going to ride the range like we used to do before you decided you wanted to fly planes. We'll roast a whole steer, have some people in so I can do a fair share of bragging, and then I'll tell you all about my new business ventures. Seven days, son, that's all we got this time around. I tried for a full two weeks but they balked. Seven was a gift."

Now. Tell him now, before he got up any more grand plans. "Pap, it isn't seven, it's four. I have to get back. I'm sorry as hell, but that's the way it is. Big things are in the wind and when they blow I want to be sure I'm there. If you're going to make a fuss, do it now. I don't want anything spoiling my leave with Billie."

"Boy, you haven't heard a word I said, have you? The little lady is in no condition to do much of anything. You're in dry dock. Get it through your head. One of these days, that hot head of yours is going to get you into a lot of real trouble. Trust me. Tell me, I don't suppose you did any Christmas shopping for the ladies, did you?"

"Pap, Christmas shopping on an aircraft carrier?" Moss laughed.

"That's what I thought. Agnes did it all. I gave the lady a blank check and she bought out the stores. You're safe on that score."

"You two getting along?" Moss grinned.

"Like pigs take to the cornfield. We understand each other," Seth said generously. "You might say we have common objectives."

"I thought you would. How's Mam get along with her?"

"Now, son, you know your mother. If anything, she's too damn good, always looking for the best in people. How d'you think she's stood me all these years?"

A wry grin spread on Moss's face. "Sometimes, Pap, I've wondered. Hear anything from Amelia? I had a letter from her when I was in Hawaii but nothing since."

"Your sister has gotten herself married," Seth announced. "This time she's really gone and done it. Found herself an RAF

{137}

pilot, a widower with a small son." He guffawed. "Imagine Amelia, harebrained and shiftless, being a mother. Glad it's not a Coleman she's raising. That little gal of yours has more sense in her little fmger than your sister has in her whole head. And she marries a limey to boot."

Moss frowned. "Why're you so hard on her, Pap? Especially since you know she'd lay down her life for you if you asked her. What's her pilot like? How old is her stepson?"

Seth waved his hand through the air to cease all questions. "If there's something you want to know, you'll have to ask your mother. The details of your sister's life always either embarrass or bore me. If nothing else, your sister could have come home, given your mother the pleasure of planning the wedding and seeing her only daughter married. Selfish as she is, she does it half a world away."

"Pap, it isn't as though it's easy getting back and forth across the Atlantic. There is a war going on."

"Then she should have waited," Seth grumbled. "But your sister never waits for anything, as you well know." He sighed. "I suppose it's for the best, after all. Your mother isn't exactly up to plarming weddings."

"What's ailing Mam?"

"Who knows? Doctors seem to think she just needs bed rest and there's something about her blood pressure. She's been in bed off and on. Mostly on, but it doesn't seem to be doing much good. Billie is good to her; I'll give her that. She spends a lot of time with your mother. They like each other."

That meant Seth didn't approve. Seth was likening Billie to Jessica and that was a definite fault in his eyes. The qualities Seth admired were strength and guts; Jessica had never had enough of those. Moss's eyes narrowed. "Why don't you like my wife. Pap? She's a wonderful girl and half the time I feel terrible about having married her. She deserves a lot better than the Colemans. We're too hard on our women. Jesus, Pap, if I find out you've made her unwelcome, I'll never forgive you."