Whispers of Moonlight (18 page)

Rebecca turned to look at him. "Meaning?"

"Only that you're new in town. The Bell is a respectable place, so Angel is well liked and has quite a network of friends. A man would think twice before-pushing his attention onto her, but with you there would be no one to stop him."

"But I didn't do anything to encourage him, Dan. I didn't even speak to him."

Dan shook his head. "With some men it wouldn't matter."

Rebecca looked utterly defeated. She didn't want to live in fear of going to the store. It hadn't been like that in Boulder, but then her father had been well known and respected there. In Pine Grove she was a nobody. Angel had taken her in when she was lost and alone, but outside of Dan, Angel, and no\v the owner of the general store, she didn't know a soul.

Dan silently watched the emotions pass across her face and grew more captivated by the second. He ate supper with them again and waited while Angel changed so they could walk to work together. It didn't occur to Rebecca until after Angel left that she'd been in a cloud for days. She didn't even know what Dan did at the Silver Bell.

Rebecca attacked the supper pots and pans with unusual vigor, ignoring her fatigue and the pain in the small of her back. It was time she made a place for herself in this town. Marriage or no, there was nothing in her past to draw her back to Boulder. Travis had not really wanted her anyway. Yes, it would be easier to live on the ranch and be waited on, but what had that gained her so far? Nothing. From now on, she was on her own.

The days began to meld one into another for Angel and Rebecca, and it was surprising how comfortable they became with each other after Rebecca's blow-up. Their conversations had never ranged too far into the personal, but Rebecca now allowed herself to be protected by Angel. At the same time she ventured out in ways she had never done before. She even started her own business. It was quite by accident, but it was prompted by a comment Dan made about his laundry.

"It's not my favorite job, but that's probably because I'm so picky."

"Well," Rebecca said kindly. "In your job you have to look well pressed." She had finally learned that he worked as an assistant to Preston and also served drinks and changed large bills. She had never been in the Sliver Bell, but from both Dan's and Angel's clothing, she could tell it was one of Colorado's finer restaurants.

"That's true, but I get sick of washing my shirts."

"Surely there's someone you could hire to take care of it, Dan. Maybe the woman you board from."

Dan shook his head. "No, she's not all that neat herself. I wouldn't trust her with my good shirts."

"I could do it." What had prompted Rebecca to say such a thing she didn't know, but the words were out.

Dan began to shake his head, but warming to the idea, Rebecca kept on.

"I could, Dan. I've been working for Angel three weeks now, and she says her dresses have started to look very good."

Dan eyed her. This was not what he had in mind. He did not want Rebecca working for him, he wanted her living for him. She was the sweetest woman he'd ever met, the only one who had ever made him think about settling down, but she truly wanted friendship and nothing more from him. There had been times when they'd had physical contact, an occasional bump or brush of the hand, but she now felt so at ease with him that she only smiled and moved away, His own heart had pounded, and several times he had broken out in sweat, but his nearness did not have the same effect on her.

Dan still didn't know how she'd coaxed him into taking his laundry. It must have been the appeal in those chocolate-drop eyes, but one minute he was saying no and the next minute he was agreeing. And that had been only the beginning. The night Dan had dropped off his first load of shirts. Angel had been on hand. She surveyed the situation with shrewd eyes but didn't say anything until after Dan left.

"You're doing his laundry, Becky?" she asked, using the name she had come to calling her.

"Oh, Angel." Rebecca's hand flew to her mouth. "I never thought to ask you."

"That's not it, Becky," Angel said honestly. "I just don't want you to work yourself into an early grave or cheat yourself. Is it just for Dan?"

"Right now, yes, but he told me he could spread the word."

Angel eyed her. "Are you certain you're charging enough?"

"I think so." She named an amount that made Angel's brows shoot in the air. The older woman didn't say anything, but two nights later when Dan showed up with the two waiters who worked at the Silver Bell, Rebecca told them they would have to pay extra for ironing. They didn't so much as blink an eye when they agreed and handed her their shirts. She told Dan when they were alone that his would be the original price since he was a friend, and Dan had looked very amused as he kissed her on the cheek and gone on his way.

Now two more weeks had passed, and it was finally their night off. Angel didn't work on Monday night, and Rebecca had started taking the day off as well. She had become quite proficient in the kitchen, but on Mondays she fixed a light meal and took it easy. With few dishes to occupy her this evening, Angel was teaching her to play cards.

"You've never played any card games?"

"No. I was raised by my aunt, and she didn't allow them."

"Where was this?"

"Philadelphia."

"Philadelphia? I was born there!"

"Angel! Were you really?"

"Yes. We were only passing through, but that's where the big event happened."

"Your family was traveling?"

"Yes. We had come up from the South and were headed to my aunt's home in New York, but my mother went into labor and
we never made it. We ended up settling in Pennsylvania for a time, but my father took off when he couldn't find work and never returned."

"What happened to all of you?"

"We drifted apart after that, one by one. I was raised by my older sister, who did whatever she had to do for money. We ended up traveling a lot."

Rebecca bit her lip. She had never known anyone with such an awful upbringing. Angel did not seem overly upset by it. Her voice was neutral, bored even, but Rebecca could imagine the pain.

"Do you have regrets. Angel? Do you wish it could have been different?"

"Just with my mother," she admitted. "She died an awful death. I'll never forget it."

Rebecca did not press her. Angel's voice had changed with the mention of her mother; there was no disguising the hurt.

"Why don't I see if the coffee is still hot?"

"Oh, that sounds good. Have we got any of that cake left?"

"Yes," Rebecca told her and rose. "We've only had one piece each. Dan might have had two."

"Well, you wouldn't know it by you, Becky," Angel said with a good-natured laugh. "For all the hard work you do, you're starting to look like you ate the whole cake. It's all right in your stomach." Angel felt herself go cold as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

"I
am
putting on weight," Rebecca said with exasperation, her back to Angel. "It must be the potatoes. I've never worked so hard in my life, but my dresses are all getting tight. It doesn't seem fair."

Rebecca moved to the table bearing two steaming mugs. She put them both down before she looked into Angel's pale face.

"What's the matter?"

"Becky," she began softly. "When you ran—" She had to clear her throat and start again. "When you ran and came here, were you running from a man?"

Rebecca's face showed confusion and a little hurt. She opened her mouth and shut it again.

"Becky," Angel went on, her voice still quiet. "All the weight you're gaining is in your waist. Is there any chance—"

Angel cut off when Rebecca began to grope for the chair. She watched as she sat down hard, her face a mask of shock. She kept shaking her head and opening her mouth, but no words came out. The reality hit Angel like a blow. Fury exploded inside her that a man would play games with mis innocent girl, She stood like an enraged warrior.

"They're all the same!" she spat. "Men can be disgusting, I tell you. Enlighten me, Becky." Her voice was now dripping with sarcasm. "Tell me about this wonderful specimen of manhood who came into your world, got you with child, and then left—or did he throw you out?"

She began to pace now. "If he were here right now, I'd have it out with him. Of all the low down, sick actions! I am disgusted by men who leave a trail of fatherless children and wounded mothers."

"Angel."

"I mean it, Becky, if he were here I'd be tempted to shoot him on the spot. Here you
are working yourself to death, and he's probably off having the time of his miserable life!"

"Angel." Rebecca spoke the second time and finally got through. Angel turned and immediately looked contrite. Rebecca had never seen her so out of control, but now Angel's eyes were filled with compassion.

"Listen to me carry on. I'm sorry, Becky. I was just so surprised. No wonder you left. Actually," she reasoned, "he probably sent you away."

"No, I left," Rebecca told her quietly, and Angel finally stopped talking all together. "I was the one to go, and he did marry me, but I ran anyway."

Angel Flanagan, who had seen all and heard all, was utterly speechless. Rebecca was married. Her sweet, innocent housekeeper was a wife. It just couldn't be. She remembered the way Rebecca stumbled over her name the night they'd met, but until now she'd given it no thought. She was not a woman to pry, but her speechlessness was deserting her fast. She had to have answers.

"I want to ask you some questions, Becky, but I don't want to intrude."

Rebecca felt a numbness settling over her. "It doesn't matter."

She sounded so lifeless that Angel became alarmed. She knew she would have to keep her emotion out of it.

"When was all this, Becky?" Her voice became businesslike.

"In February. My father was dying. He wanted me taken care of, so he insisted I marry his foreman."

Angel licked her lips. "And did you live as husband and wife?"

"Well, yes, I mean, I think so."

"Did you share a bed?"

Rebecca nodded. "For three nights."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No," Rebecca whispered, the memory surfacing swiftly. "He was wonderful, but then my father died."

Angel's eyes closed in pain, but for just an instant. "I think I can guess why you ran, but I'm not exactly sure."

"It was the ranch," Rebecca told her. "I found out that the ranch was the only reason he married
me."

Angel nodded, but this was not what she thought at all. A man who had treated her tenderly, but married her only for the ranch? It didn't really make much sense. And the baby. It had all been such a short time ago.
Did the father know there
was a child?
Impossible, Angel decided. Becky had only just realized herself.
But would the man care? Had he looked for Becky or just let her go?
These and many other questions swarmed through Angel's mind, but before long her thoughts zeroed in on one thing: the child.

"Becky, when was all this, I mean, the exact date?"

"I was married on February 15." The numbness was still there, and she felt chilled, but she answered automatically.

"And you spent your wedding night together?" "Yes."

"Is there a chance you were pregnant before this?"

Rebecca shook her head, the soft waves of her hair bouncing against her cheeks and shoulders.

"This is only April 3," Angel contemplated aloud. "You're awfully big for just six weeks."

"Maybe I'm not really—"

She cut off when Angel shook her head.

"Look at yourself, Becky," the older woman returned gently. "It can't be anything
else. Your arms and shoulders are thinner, but your breasts and waistline are fuller. Haven't you missed your monthly time?"

"I have, but I didn't give any thought to it. What am I going to do?"

"What are you going to do?" Angel repeated in surprise. "You're going to have a baby, that's what you're going to do."

Rebecca didn't cry, but she looked utterly defeated. She could feel Angel's eyes on her but didn't look up. How long would it be before her pregnancy would be obvious to everyone? What pride she had been guilty of. She was going to show this town what she was made of, but now she was only going to look like an unwed mother. And Travis. He hadn't wanted to share the ranch with her, but what about their baby? Did he have the right to know? What was she to do about him?